The Eternally Guilty Sun: Revival

[Lemniscate]

((Decided to stop being lazy and start putting color coded thoughts. Also, warning: Long post ahead.))

 

"You didn't see anything? That must mean it didn't reach up here..."

 

Cyil quirked an eyebrow curiously, but waited for Ike to explain further. Had one of the members of the ragtag group unleashed something? If it had been magic based, she should have felt it...

 

"To make a long story short, I and the group that was with me were able to cut their numbers down enough to make them retreat. We would've just finished them ourselves, but some strange light destroyed everything remaining but us. I thought it might have come from above, but it seems like that isn't the case. At least, for this floor, anyway."

 

That was... odd. She had never heard of such an event occurring in her homeland, but maybe it was a feature of the Smash universe? If it were anyone else, she would have suspected they were lying, but this was Ike. He wasn't the type to make up wild stories. Yet, if what Ike was saying was true, then how had she not felt anything? Such an event would surely have been magic-based. Perhaps... there was another presence in the tower? It didn't seem like it intended to harm the group, but maybe it was simply toying with them. A flash of light could have been produced by a simple flash bomb planted in the correct spot, coupled with the timely disappearance of some illusions. That would have been nearly undetectable, even to someone well-attuned to ambient magic.

 

Strange...

 

I have a feeling there's more than meets the eye here.

 

She would have insisted on checking the area herself, but her energy was still drained from her transformation. Despite her best efforts to hide it, Ike still seemed to notice the slight tremble in her posture. The stumble had been bad enough, but she hoped he'd let it go. Of course, he's Ike, so he'd never do that. But it's nice to see that this Ike's still got the spirit. There were some Corrins and Robins that she'd met who had been utterly devastated by the timeline in their world, and she was glad that this Ike wasn't affected by it. Time and space seemed to have been more stable in Ike's time, especially since they didn't have to deal with the Astral Plane.

 

"The others should be coming soon. I'm sure they'll introduce themselves to you, but don't be alarmed by what they say. They've all been taken from their homes and subjected to the weather, and they've all been fighting since they arrived. They might be a little abrasive, but they're all friendly."

 

Ike gave her a meaningful look, one she understood but chose to ignore anyway.

 

"So...maybe you should sit down for awhile while we wait."

 

She smiled politely at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. If this Ike was truly the same as the one she'd known... then she knew what he wanted. But, as much as she wished to oblige and indulge in conversation longer, she knew that it would be selfish in more ways than one.

 

For my country... for Soren... even for that Robin.

 

"I'm sorry. If this were any other time, I would gladly oblige, but as of the current situation and to prevent any discomfort I may cause in your comrades, I believe it is best for me to leave." She turned and began to walk away from Ike, but paused after a moment.

 

"Suffice to say that they are not completely wrong to distrust me. There are... reasons... why it is better for me to depart."

 

 

After all, if you knew what I truly am, if you knew what I was capable of...

 

 

You wouldn't want me to stick around either.

 

Perhaps she was simply being a coward and fleeing those who would remind her of the negative effects of her bloodline. Perhaps that was all she'd ever be, but now that her focus was off the battle, she began to remember things she did not want to. Several memories crowded the forefront of her mind, but one of them stood out. As her pace picked up, the memory became more vivid in her mind, painting the scene she had witnessed that day.

 

--------

 

"Azura?"

 

"Hm? What is it?"

 

"Have you found anything yet?"

 

"No, unfortunately not."

 

"Ah, we'll just have to keep looking then."

 

It was a moonlit night, softened by the glow of the candles illuminating the worn tabletop. Textbooks and scrolls lay strewn about, some in mild degrees of organization while others were haphazardly jammed back onto bookshelves. In the past few days, she had made it her mission to decipher the ancient texts stored in the hall, and tonight was no different. Unsurprisingly, Azura was keeping her company. The stray stand of blue hair that usually fell in her face was tucked behind her ears today, mostly to prevent it from falling in her face. They were both idly scribbling down possible codes for the texts, beginning with the shortest one. It was tedious work, but the reward was the satiation of their shared curiosity.

 

She remembered the moment that it began to make sense clearly, letters and words falling into place.

 

"Wait... I think I've got it! Come look at this!"

 

Azura obliged, although in a much quieter way. She cracked a smile at the completed code and nodded gently.

 

"Well done. I think you deserve a rest after all that work."

 

A frown spread across her face as she listened to Azura, although it was more out of impatience than displeasure. She could barely contain her excitement as she began to copy down the symbols contained in the texts, inscribing the corresponding letter under each symbol.

 

"Not now! I've got to translate them all, just in case I lose the paper during an invasion. It'll be much easier to remember if they're written out as sentences instead of code."

 

It was Azura's turn to frown now, but she didn't protest. With a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

 

"Alright, but don't overexert yourself. The war's not over yet."

 

"I know... but think of the information we could lose if we happen to get raided!"

 

It was only when she looked up that she noticed Azura still standing next to her, watching her scribble furiously. She paused a moment, slightly awkwardly, before speaking in a softer tone.

 

"Oh, you don't have to stay awake with me, I'll be a while. Feel free to head back to your quarters anytime."

 

"No, I want to stay with you."

 

"Well... alright then. Just don't force yourself to stay awake for my sake."

 

After another awkward pause, she began to write again, slowly scratching out coherent sentences. She was surprised at first, but not unpleasantly so.

 

"Hey, Azura. Aren't these the lyrics to that song you like to sing?"

 

And, sure enough, the words to her song were written out, clear as day.

 

In the white light

 

a hand reaches through

 

A double edged blade

 

cuts your heart in two

 

Waking dreams fade away

 

embrace the brand new day

 

She recalled knitting her eyebrows together and quickly translating two more, only to find the same song laid out on the page.

 

Embrace the dark

 

you call a home

 

Gaze upon an empty white throne

 

A legacy of lies

 

a familiar disguise

 

Azura had fallen silent as well, perhaps in disbelief, shock, or something more.

 

A burdened heart

 

sinks into the ground

 

A veil falls away

 

without a sound

 

Not day nor night

 

wrong nor right

 

for truth and peace we fight

 

"How...?"

 

Few knew of the existence of the song, much less the exact lyrics. It was knowledge that was only handed out to Vallite royalty. The author of the text... they had to be a member of the royal family. Unless...

 

"...There may be more mystery in these pages than we expected."

 

"Hm... You could definitely say that."

 

As she deciphered more of the words, she discovered fragments of history embedded in the text.

 

Once dragons fought against each

 

other using humans as pawns

 

They empowered their pawns

 

with drops of their own blood

 

In time the dragonblooded humans

 

became royalty even as the

 

dragons descended into beasthood

 

To escape madness the dragons

 

threw off their mortal flesh and

 

became ascended spirits

 

They left the world to humanity

 

except for the few dragons who

 

chose to remain

 

By this time, hardly a word was exchanged between the two. All attention was focused on the scripts and their content, almost as if by a strange enchantment.

 

A dragon neither white nor black

 

saw his future self

 

as no more than a caged beast

 

A dragon neither white nor black

 

sang three songs of prophecy

 

so someday his soul might be released

 

"Do you think... Anankos...?"

 

"I do..."

 

The white princes and princesses are

 

born of Sumeragi and Ikona the black

 

princes and princesses are born of

 

Garon the first prince with Katerina

 

the first princess with a concubine

 

the second prince with yet another

 

the second princess with another still

 

There was a certain urgency in the air as she wrote down the last translation, perhaps out of anticipation and dread. A sense of foreboding, maybe, of questions they both feared would be left unanswered. And, undoubtedly, a sense of intimidation caused by how uncannily accurate the previous translation had been.

 

The child of light kidnapped in

 

the dark is not of nohr blood

 

nor a child of the hoshidan king

 

The child was born of

 

the white queen and silent dragon

 

Anankos is the true father

 

Her hand shook as she set the pencil down, out of denial, dread, or shock, she didn't know. There was never any question of who the last translation was referring to. Who else could be the "child of light kidnapped in the dark" anyway? If she were completely honest with herself, she had suspected something of the sort, but it didn't make the knowledge any less jarring. For now, all she could feel was a strange sense of numbness, as if her mind was still processing the information. A heavy silence filled the air as the tension grew, waiting for one of them to say something.

 

She was suddenly filled with a strange desire to throw something, to destroy, anything that would take her mind off the awful information before her. She would not accept it - she couldn't. But she knew that it was true in the depths of her mind, though she would give anything to prove it false. It made perfect sense, after all. It explained why she was the only one with red eyes in the family, why she could transform into a dragon, even why she always seemed to look younger than her real age. These effects - they were not the results of Dusk or Dawn Dragon blood, the kind that flowed in the veins of her family. Their origin was far worse.

 

With a sudden burst of anger, she stood up, slamming the table with enough force to make the textbooks jump. There was no way - she couldn't - it wasn't possible! Azura - she could unravel the meaning behind all this. Quickly, she turned to Azura, eyes filled with hope. Maybe there was something else she missed, something Azura would surely explain. But, as she looked into Azura's eyes, she saw only pain and sad acceptance, killing her hope almost as quickly as if she had spoken. In that moment, Azura looked incredibly world-weary, as if she had aged a hundred years in the few seconds that passed.

 

"Tell me - did you know?"

 

Her crimson eyes were filled with ferocity as she asked the question, contrasting with the immeasurable wisdom and grief displayed in Azura's bronze ones.

 

"Yes... but I promised not to tell you. I knew you would react like this - I didn't want to bring you pain."

 

"Who? Who did you promise?!? How did you find out?"

 

"Your mother - Mikoto - she told me before she died. She foresaw this moment."

 

"Why... why did it have to be me? Why did it have to be me who survived instead of her? Why did it have to be me who was the... the child of Anankos? WHY?"

 

She knew she was being unreasonable, that protesting was pointless and wouldn't change anything. But just as she was finally feeling at home, just as her two families began to get along... this had to happen. Couldn't she be allowed to be happy once in a while? Did the world have to turn on her every time she felt even a smidge of joy? She sunk to the ground in despair, half-sobbing and half-angry.

 

"It isn't fair..."

 

"It's not FAIR!"

 

And suddenly - just like that - something snapped, and she flew into a rage. The first thing to go was the table, reduced to nothing more than splinters by a few punches. Candles fell to the wood floor, but they were mercilessly stamped out before they even had a chance to ignite anything. Next were the bookshelves, the books inside them ripped to shreds by her increasingly draconic hands. The wooden shelves themselves were hurled across the room, where they were smashed into the wall in a frightening display of strength. Paper flew like leaves in autumn as she tore through books left and right, features morphing into something barely human. There was nothing but pure, animalistic rage in her at that moment, a savage desire to destroy.

 

She didn't pause until she had utterly decimated everything in the hall, save for Azura. Her fury had not yet abated, and the only thing that had spared Azura thus far was her complete silence.

 

"Cyil..."

 

Azura didn't get a chance to finish, as she was slammed to the wall. An invouluntary gasp of pain left her lips as claws closed around her neck, coming dangerously close to slicing her throat. There was a sudden, deathly silence in the room as she looked straight at Azura, eyes burning with an uncharacteristic bloodlust. The fear she saw in Azura's eyes that day was seared into her memory, so vivid that she could see it in her mind's eye as if it were yesterday.

 

She remembered seething, frenzied madness had clouded her mind with such intensity that the memory of it still scared her now. It was like she had lost control of her own body and succumbed to primal instincts. Never before had she felt such violent rage, save for the first time she had transformed.

 

In the end, it was the mention of Anankos that saved her.

 

"Cyil... don't give in to the dragon inside you. Don't become Anankos."

 

The realization that she was becoming exactly what she feared she would was what finally brought her back to reason. Instantly, she released Azura, features reverting to normal. As she began to fully comprehend what she'd just done, she took several steps away from Azura, almost fearfully. Her eyes fell on her hands, bewildered by how they had seemingly acted of their own accord. She was a monster now, wasn't she? And she had hurt Azura, the friend she trusted most. There was no excuse for that.

 

"Cyil? Are you okay?"

 

After all that, Azura still cared about her? Even from this distance, she could see the red scratches on the sides of Azura's neck. She didn't deserve the kindness Azura was offering, nor could she ever hope to repay it. All she could do was continue to stare incredulously at her hands, the same hands that were capable of such destruction. A movement caught her eye and she flinched backwards, retreating even farther into a corner of the hall.

 

"Don't. I'm not worthy of your forgiveness."

 

"That's not true."

 

"Yes it is! I hurt you before, now I did it again. I'm not safe to be around! I'm the whole reason this war even exists! Mother died protecting me!"

 

She didn't mean to snap, but the mental stress was breaking her down. Azura had fallen silent after her last comment, but she knew that it was temporary. Undoubtedly, Azura was giving her time to think, but she didn't want to think right now. All she wanted to do was run - away from the terrible truths that confronted her, away from herself.

 

--------

 

Her feet had taken her into the middle room, where she stood between two pillars. Two windows on either side of her offered a gloomy light and a cold breeze, neither of which she was in the mood to care about. She wanted to sink to the floor and collapse right there, but she forced her feet to mechanically walk to the windowsill and sit down. The relief was instantaneous, but the memory had left her too drained to care. Whether or not Ike had followed her, she didn't care, but she guessed that she had been walking pretty swiftly from the way her muscles ached. But even though she wasn't facing anyone, she found herself putting on a mask of neutrality out of habit.

 

How fitting. A mask to hide the monster I really am, just like my father.

 

((Here is a picture of what Anankos looks like when you fight him at first, vs. how he looks after you break his mask, just so the last line makes more sense.))

[Sugar-Free]

Without a word spoken yet, Ike knew what her answer would be.

 

 

Her response was a cool, empty smile. No real joy there to be seen--just a means of gentle appeasement without the risk of offense. For her, it seemed so easy, almost effortless, like a reflexive movement without thought--mere response. There was a loneliness to it that permeated her regal stature, making her look more statuesque than before; like her face was only a premeditated formation, carved there long before the two had ever met.

 

 

Like a mask...

 

 

"I'm sorry," she said at last, "If this were any other time, I would gladly oblige, but as of the current situation and to prevent any discomfort I may cause in your comrades, I believe it is best for me to leave."

 

Cyil turned and began to walk away, breaking the illusion. Ike immediately moved to follow, but stopped as she paused to speak again.

 

"Suffice to say that they are not completely wrong to distrust me. There are... reasons... why it is better for me to depart."

 

 

"'Distrust'? Why? I barely even kn--hey! Wait!" In his hesitation, Cyil had managed to seemingly drift out of view, and he only caught sight of her cape fluttering before disappearing around the bend of the left hallway. He groaned in confusion and made off after her. What had spurred this sudden change in her demeanor? Was it what Soren had said? What exactly had he said to her before he'd come between them? Cyil said he would likely "distrust" her...and Soren had seemed to display that, certainly. But she had come to his aid in his time of need, so he had no reason to. Right?

 

"Cyil...Cyil! Agh, where did you get off to so quick?"

 

 

And better yet, why?

 

 

After a minute or so of traversing the length of the dilapidated hallway, he made a right and went down, taking the immediate left and stopping to scope out the area. From what he could tell, the area was much of the same as the rest of the tower, but there was a scattering of wood debris at the base of another small set of steps leading to an enclosed room. He noted this area, realizing it would comfortably house the party once they made it up the steps, as well as the adjoining hallway at the other end. He didn't see Soren anywhere, so he deduced he must be in the other hall, likely tending to their things to ease his mind. For now, Ike took the steps upward, being greeted by two pillars standing upon smooth indigo marble and statues of dragons lining the walls. The smell of rain and fresh air lingered from somewhere he didn't see.

 

He was drawn to one nearest the entrance and walked over to examine it, making out the fine details of its sculpted scales and muscular body. It looked to be quadrupedal and quite ancient. Ike wondered if dragons from this area's represented land really looked like this.

 

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of metal against stone--just a soft scrape, enough to denote another's presence. He ran a hand over the dragon's muzzle before turning to the source of the sound, stepping out into the center only to find what he was looking for at last.

 

 

There sat Cyil, leaning up against the frame of a window, the overcast sky and remnant sprinkles compliments to her monochrome. The lines under her eyes and the tension in her mouth spoke leagues of the incredible exhaustion she was feeling; still, her expression stayed resolute and unchanging--the very picture of noble dissolution.

 

 

Ike could see the sadness below it. But he didn't know why.

 

 

He walked up to her, softening his expression to the best of his ability.

 

 

"You sorta ran off and left me back there. Good thing the tower's not as big as it lends itself to be." He idly shifted in place before continuing. He wanted to be serious with her, but not abrasive. It was likely she'd had more than enough of that for today. He didn't know how well she'd receive his words now that she'd made up her mind that he didn't want her around, but he at least wanted to try. He owed her that much.

 

"Cyil..." he said, his voice soft but stern, "I want you to know something. I don't know what Soren told you, but whatever it was, put it out of your mind." He walked a little closer, keeping himself at a reasonable distance so that she wouldn't feel threatened, and knelt to prevent himself from looking down on her. He kept himself relaxed, letting his arms drape over his knee and thigh as he spoke.

 

"I don't judge people based on what I'm told or what I should expect them to be. All that matters to me is what I can see firsthand myself. And from what I've seen, you've proven yourself to be someone reliable, someone who does right by her comrades. You offered your assistance to my strategist, regardless of whether or not he appreciated it, and for that, I can't thank you enough." He tilted his head, thinking back to moments prior.

 

"I know what Soren said, but his word isn't final. In the end, it's my decision on who stays and who goes, and I think you'd make an excellent addition to the group. I'm personally extending an invitation for you to reconsider leaving." He held out a hand to her, a warm smile on his face.

 

 

"So, what do you say? If it sweetens the deal any, fire comes included."

------------

 

Soren's footsteps had been fortified by his animosity, but as soon as he left Cyil's range of magic, he quickly began to feel his fatigue climbing and his connection to the spirits dwindling fast. Within moments of turning to head up the hallway, his brisk pace had slowed to a shaky walk. He was forced to lean upon his Mend for support, but even that barely sufficed to alleviate the near-crushing ache and heaviness in his limbs. Even his lungs seemed unwilling to cooperate, and he found himself gasping for breath as he came within sight of a couple of pillars standing side by side.

 

If I can reach them, then I can set my things down and---

========

 

 

Clat-tatat-tat-trrr....

 

 

 

 

His eyesight was black. It took Soren a moment to realize that his eyes were closed, leading to a spell of panic that passed thankfully quick. Once he was beholden to the soft blue of the tower's light, he immediately assessed what had just happened. He felt cold against his legs, chest and face, and the floor was level with his eyes.

 

 

I passed out.

 

 

He hadn't even felt the fall, nor did he remember even doing so. He tried to push himself back up, but found his arms and legs unwilling to comply. Determined not to be set back so easily, he raised his head and looked for his Mend, finding it having rolled away from him and sitting flush against the base of the pillar. It was too far to gather yet, but it gave him determination and a goal to focus on. Soren eventually managed to get his arms to push up underneath him, letting the bag drag beside himself as he pulled himself forward. The simple inconvenience was enough to empower him to continue, even as his body screamed for him to stop.

 

 

Once his hand wrapped around the cold metal rod, he used it as leverage to bring himself to a sitting position, holding it in place as he struggled to push the bag behind him as a prop. Now secured in his belongings as well as his placement, he slumped back and let his head fall forward. His scalp felt hot, similar to when he'd been subjected to Cyil's magical pulse, and he knew it was time to submit and let himself recover properly. With a sigh, the staff fell back to the ground, still clutched in his hand.

 

 

 

It was now that his mind seemed to clear. Soren closed his eyes and reveled in the moment of peace. It seemed like so much had happened is such a short amount of time, and though this rest was at least at his control, it didn't make him feel much better about it. Thinking back to the last hours was simultaneously intriguing and exasperating. He pieced it together, slowly, trying not to leave out any variables. Ike would be counting on him for an honest review, and provided Cyil had left, he would be the only remaining proof of her actions. A sudden pressure at the front of his head caused him to flinch in pain.

 

 

Her actions...indeed...

 

 

He raised a hand to rub away the tension. Everything had begun and ended at her. His departure from the camp, the journey to the tower, a deadly dance against an immeasurable foe...

 

...a dredging up of years-old anxieties, her immense power...a partnership that felt far too familiar for his comfort...

 

 

 

And now? A lingering, seething loathing. Like a poison. Not taking away, but instead inundating him--with thoughts, uncomfortable feelings, implications, and suspicion. Perhaps, he thought, he truly was infected by the "corruption" she'd spoken of. He'd felt the way her magic had eaten at him. Maybe he had relied too heavily on her strength. Maybe this was only the start. Maybe it wouldn't be long until he was broken down into his basic parts, addled with delusions and a pox upon his skin, reduced being little more than an animal, nothing more th--

 

 

Stop it! That's nothing but baseless conjecture. I would know if I was being "corrupted"...I feel no different than the day previous.

 

But even as he affirmed this to himself, he was quick to be reminded back to the lower level. He had never once sensed the presence of darkness that Cyil had. Knowing that, how could he claim that he would know if he was? And who was to say that this corruption, likely similar to such darkness, would be detectable? There was no telling as long as he was under this Silence. He could very well be--

 

 

NO! He pushed both hands to the sides of his head, grimacing. ...correlation and causation are not one in the same! I must endeavor to keep my mind clear...

 

He drew in a shaky breath, exhaling and repeating this process until the obsessive thoughts faded. He was absolutely useless as long as he allowed this stress to eat at him as it was. It occurred to him how out-of-place it was, seeing as he'd never once broken under strain that had trumped this tenfold, but that too was cast aside. Entertaining it changed nothing. He knew that. And as much as it pained him to accept it, he knew, too, that the bizarre circumstances of this nonsense world were pushing him to his limits. If anything, his time spend with Cyil had highlighted so much.

 

 

 

As he settled his mind, it lingered on the hazy image of the dragon. He saw a phantom image of the battle before him, remembered that feeling of exhilaration he'd felt. He remembered those two distinct versions of her: one--a shell of congeniality, undefined and lame. The other--vicarious and alive, a bright flame burning against the black. Utterly incomparable to the blue flame to which he'd become a shadow, but not so dissimilar.

 

 

 

 

Soren wondered why he cared.

-------------------

 

"W... what?"

 

 

Alex stared back blankly. There wasn't any care left inside of her to force out into disbelief at his response. She couldn't even sigh. She barely felt like breathing.

 

 

But what came next was disconnected.

 

 

Stormcatcher's eyes went wide, and he cowered as if he was being faced down by some invisible malcontent. He looked back and forth as if there was more than one, and his expression was riddled with terror.

 

 

"No... no! W-what did I do?"

 

 

Alex knew this wasn't directed at her, and because of that, she was nearly inclined to ignore it. But she felt the prickling of electricity over her skin, and she livened only enough to dodge a trigger blast of lightning directed not at her, but at the space she occupied. As she tumbled an came up on her knees, she fought the urge to draw a weapon. Even as Stormcatcher leveled his acidic gaze at her, she didn't relent to instinct. Ilyana would do her no good regardless, and Cereal Killer required two hands and time to speak the lines. As it stood, even though he sparkled with malicious arcs of Thunder, she got the impression that this, too, was disconnected.

 

 

"I have reason to. And that's all you need to know!"

 

 

His tone was just as angry as it always was with her, but she could hear something else in it. It wasn't normal apprehension.

 

 

It...was fear?

 

 

Alex didn't have the emotional capacity to worry about it now. She preferred to approach these topics with her whole self intact, and now certainly wasn't the time. Instead, she'd make up for her lack of verbal compassion with action. If Storm would act only as reason guided him, then she'd give him reason.

 

 

"Fine then," she said, dabbing the cloth with the Elixir and scanning him once over. There was a sizeable chunk taken out of Stormcatcher's side she'd missed before, but she was sure this one and the arm wound were his only ones. She ignored his hateful stare and returned to a look of determination.

 

 

"You leave me no choice, then."

 

 

She darted toward him, making way for his side. She didn't have to be accurate--just the general area would do. Elixirs were so powerful that even small drops could cure just about anything, especially mere flesh wounds, so being in the ballpark was all she was aiming for. With a slide and a prayer that he wouldn't electrocute her right there on the spot, she ducked under his belly and smacked the handkerchief onto the bloody gape. With another quick burst courtesy of Galeforce, she made for his chest and leapt, grabbing for the arm and holding the nap to it. Certain that the Elixir had taken hold, as evidenced by the flesh beginning to suture itself as such a pace it nearly devoured the cloth, she avoided his mantis arms and ran, skidding and crouching to a stop to watch for his reaction.

-----------------

 

 

The cat lunged again and again, teeth clamping down again and again just out of reach. Klepto dodge over and over even as fire singed his face--she was faltering, blood spilling out onto the ground where she toiled. A squawking titter escaped him as he saw his chance. Powering past the pain, using it as his strength, he went airborne and swatted the cat's head hard, body falling down and rolling to her back. Now, he would finally end this charade. Finally, he would have what was his. His. His. HIS.

 

 

 

He dove down at her head, beak glinting as it sought to dash it to gore against the floor.

Edited February 17, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[DuskOfTheStars]

Solar heard the condor titter just before she was smacked onto her back. Her body twisted, and she hissed - the condor swooped. Flame. Fire was hers. Fire. She yowled as the condor spproached, coming in for the kill - and then her jaws, cloaking in flame, snapped down.

 

Solar tasted blood. Heard a thud. The condor was lying limp on the ground, and her eyes followed the spine up to his head, blood and chunks of bone and flesh dripping from her mouth... was there some brain...? And then she saw the chunk torn out of his head and singed.

 

It made her almost sick.

 

Arceus. Arceus. She did this. She did - no, no, no...

 

Arceus Almighty, what did I do? What... did I do?!

 

---

 

Lightweaver could feel the tainted magic. She wasn't sure whether it was the magic in the sky, or... inside her? That couldn't be right - she was a being of Light. Her internal magic shouldn't be tainted! But yet donething fwlt wrong with some of it. Like the magic in the sky. Ugh. Did the Eevee know anything of this magic-taint, or the Torracat, or... well, anyone?

 

---

 

The Wind mage's words caused Stormcatcher to tense. No choice. It made him think of Windsinger. Wind... wind finishing the job started ages ago - but then he felt something smack into his wounds. The dragon hissed softly, angling his claws to strike, but stopped short when he realized the pain was disappearing. The wounds were healing.

 

He froze, wary. Did she expect something from him now? Why had she healed him? This was a good chance to finish him off for good, but she... hadn't taken it. The dragon hissed in confusion, tail twitching and thudding against the stone.

[Lemniscate]

She heard Ike before she saw him, his distinct footsteps ringing clear in the stone room. The shock of blue hair that followed was predictable, although she made no movement to face him.

 

"You sorta ran off and left me back there. Good thing the tower's not as big as it lends itself to be."

 

"I'm sorry." She whispered, too quiet for Ike to hear.

 

It was an apology meant mostly for the ghosts of her past, but she said it out loud to give it substance. Sincerity. There were too many thoughts running through her head, and she was afraid that if she simply thought her apology, some echo of the past would take it as insincere. She needed to get a grip, to sort out her thoughts into the neat little mental boxes they usually belonged in. Allowing her memories to run free would only lead to a chain reaction. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ike shift in place before moving closer and kneeling. She forced herself to focus on him instead, giving her mind something to occupy itself with while she organized her thoughts.

 

"Cyil..." He said, voice uncharacteristically soft yet stern."I want you to know something. I don't know what Soren told you, but whatever it was, put it out of your mind."

 

"I don't judge people based on what I'm told or what I should expect them to be. All that matters to me is what I can see firsthand myself. And from what I've seen, you've proven yourself to be someone reliable, someone who does right by her comrades. You offered your assistance to my strategist, regardless of whether or not he appreciated it, and for that, I can't thank you enough."

 

At this, Ike paused, and she knew he was thinking back to the sharp orders he had undoubtedly heard Soren bark.

 

"I know what Soren said, but his word isn't final. In the end, it's my decision on who stays and who goes, and I think you'd make an excellent addition to the group. I'm personally extending an invitation for you to reconsider leaving."

 

He raised a hand out to her, a warm smile gracing his features. It was such a selfless, unmarred expression that she couldn't help but smile back, although hers was tinged with sadness and regret. Ike was so different from the Robins and Corrins she met daily - he seemed amazingly untouched by his past, unlike her. If she was a leaf floating on the surface of a stream, he was a rock that parted the waters. There was this sense of unshakability around him, as if he would just stubbornly get up no matter what life threw at him. I hope he never loses that.

 

"So, what do you say? If it sweetens the deal any, fire comes included."

 

For a moment, she thought about how Soren and the Robin would react. They would be displeased, that was for sure. It would create conflict within the group, should she remain. But then she thought about Ike and the few pleasant memories she had of her past. If there was anyone she'd follow, it would be him. She was hungry and exhausted anyway, and it wouldn't hurt to stick with the group for a while until she recovered.

 

"Very well. I shall stay for now, but a fire is not necessary. However, if you happen to have any food, I will gladly consume it. I seem to have... overexerted myself in the last battle."

 

Maintaining as much dignity as her exhausted body would allow, she left her perch on the windowsill and clasped Ike's hand in a firm handshake. For barely a second, she allowed a flash of a genuine smile to break past her mask before returning to her strictly neutral facade. It was oddly satisfying to allow herself to join a ragtag group of fighters, somewhat reminiscent of the days when she had fought a war with only a handful of allies. Yes, she had made leadership mistakes back then, but this group wasn't led by her. It was led by Ike, and with him leading them, she knew they could not go wrong.

 

He's a natural leader. Smart enough to sense when people are feeling down, yet wise enough not to push them when they don't want to be pushed. I have no doubt that he can overcome any animosity that arises within the group.

 

Somehow, she knew she would enjoy getting to know this Ike as much as she had enjoyed the friendship of the Ike she had known ages ago.

Edited February 17, 2017 by Silverphoenixx

[Sugar-Free]

Stormcatcher's response to her was nothing more than his quintessential hissing and swaying. His tail beat at the ground, not unlike an angry cat. Alex would have found humor in it.

 

But now that she was certain we was going to make no sudden movements against her, she rose and let go of some of some of the rigidity she displayed. She recorked the remnants of the bottle and put it away, walking toward Stormcatcher, making her footsteps as evident as possible. She had to remember that he didn't completely see her, so she approached him much like a wild animal. It didn't matter for now--he'd made his feelings toward her apparent, and in this state she had no faith in him changing--but she hoped she'd made something of an impact on him.

 

 

Can you trust me now? Or do you insist on making me force my compassion onto you?

 

 

"Stormcatcher, I'm coming close now. I'm unarmed." She got closer and closer, feeling the atmosphere waver with his sparking. She held out her hands toward his mantis arm. She knew what a risk this was.

 

 

Not like it even matters. It's just death, after all.

 

 

"Alright...I'm going to hold your arm and guide you up the steps. Just focus on where I say to step and try not to fuss at me." She went ahead and grasped the strange pronged appendage, noting how sharp they were. A pang of reality hit her, and she felt the need to vent it again. Alex looked up at him, knowing he wouldn't look back.

 

 

"Let me bear your burden. Please."

 

 

She gave him a light tug to encourage him, but all the effort was gone. She hoped he wouldn't deny her. If he did...if he wouldn't let him do this one thing for him...she was sure she'd fall apart.

---------------------

 

A thousand particles of himself passed through the grate.

 

 

He fell to the ground at last, and once he'd gathered his senses, he reformed himself properly--the shape and color of a scarred Vaporeon, his skin smooth and perpetually damp. He would have taken the moment to celebrate the return of his power.

 

 

But now, there was so much more that called for him. A sullied presence, the smell of blood...terror and anguish. He'd hoped he'd be quicker about regaining his strength, but no--

 

 

It was too late. He'd been too slow. The body lay strewn lifeless across the sand...

 

 

And there Solar stood, blood and membrane coating her mouth and gaped teeth. He didn't watch. He reacted.

 

 

"Solar!!!"

 

He ran to her side, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do. Though it was quiet, he could hear the mania growing in the garbled mess of her speech. Blame. Disgust. Regret. Over and over, ad nauseum, she couldn't stop. She was going to break down.

 

 

I...I have to do something...

 

 

But what? He tried to go and console her, try to pull her away, but any contact was met with a hiss of steam between them. He skittered backward, too aware of the reflection of his smaller self in this larger body.

 

 

"I-I'm sorry! I...I just--I wanted...oh, Solar..."

 

 

She remained standing over Klepto, unmoving in shock. Ascension knew he had to hurry--to do what?! Something, something--she couldn't stay like this--they had to leave--but---but--h--

 

 

"Ratchet!" That was the first name to cross his tongue. Yes, yes, of course! Ratchet could touch her without fear of hurting her! And he had had no issue transporting her before...yes...that was an idea. He ran to the window opening and looked out, noting Lightweaver and nudging past her massive head. Even though the sand bit into him, he didn't care. Not now. Not when another was suffering beyond his comprehension.

 

 

"Ratchet! Ratchet! I need your help, now! Please!!!"

Edited February 18, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[padfoot]

A claw trailing a cable of light whizzed through the sandy air and nearly struck the finned fox when he poked his head from the pyramid. Ratchet zipped up from the narrow platform he was balancing on, running with the slope of the pyramid.Why stone? he asked himself has he traversed the pits of quicksand and sudden dust devils that lead up to the pyramid. His Grav-Boots would stick to metal and he would have reached the window Lightweaver was hovering near without a problem. Instead, he was forced to navigate the ever narrowing path that lead up the sides of the pyramid like a platforming fool. He only decided to forgo the path when there was a commotion in the small room above and Ascension called his name.

 

what happened and... why do you look like that? he asked the large fish...dog who he assumed was Ascension. Ratchet's voice was muffled by the O2 mask so he tapped a hidden button on his temple and the mask deconstructed from around his head. His eyes fell to Solar, standing over a very dead (and annoying) bird. The Torracat was not looking to good. She seemed to be muttering something by he couldn't hear it over the wind.

 

Ratchet swung into the opening, his small form allowing easy passage. He was expecting a fight but instead the little red and black cat finished the turkey off. He was impressed. Her control over elemental attacks was impressive. Ratchet wished he would have been quicker when Solar jumped on the dragon's back and took off. He could have used the dragon to swing himself to the pyramid. Maybe then he would have made it in time to prevent Solar from going through this. He walked over to the Torracat, "hey? You...you doing alright? he asked gently,"Great job rescuing Ascension. Thanks for filling in for me too. What do you say we get out of here? Hop on my back and I'll even give you a lift"

 

[DuskOfTheStars]

Alex approached, and Stormcatcher tensed. Sparked. The air was now permuted with energy from his sparking, and he felt a dull ache all over his body. He felt something grab his arm, and let out a hiss.

 

Bear... his burden? He didn't need help... no. He didn't. He would've made to pull himself away, but he was still confused and trying to figure out why the chance hadn't been taken. Why he was healed.

 

So the dark dragon was unprepared when the jerk came. Light, but it still pulled him forawrds a bit. He followed after the Beorc, hissing quietly. He didn't trust her... and he couldn't figure her out.

 

---

 

Solar's garbled thoughts were interrupted by Ratchet's voice.

 

I killed someone... I killed someone... this is wrong... so how is that... no, no... If no one died, then perhaps...

 

But then she heard something. To leave... get out. So much easier. She couldn't look back at the mess. She could smell ot, but she couldn't stand the smell. Perhaps it was her guilt. The Torracat moved over. It was wrong..

 

"Then let's... go." She made to jump on.

 

---

 

Lightweaver winced as the sand continued. She wanted to hiss - it was getting all over. Then a blue, finned head poked out - and called out in Ascension's voice.

 

WHAT?! How? How is that thing talking like it's Ascension? How did an imposter get in?! That's too different! One imposter... could lead to more. Imposters could mean death for us.

 

"Who are you, and why are you speaking like Ascension?" The Light dragon demanded.

Edited February 19, 2017 by Dusky_Flareon

[Felixr2]

Sorry, it will take some adjustment. I’m not used to people in my head. But I’ll take it as it comes, though I hope at least some of my thoughts are private because some would be embarrassing for you and for me.

 

If there are thoughts I'm not hearing, I can't possibly know they were even there...

 

Was that bad, what does it do to you exactly if you use them.

 

"All I can tell is that there are no sane shadowpriests." She said, not wanting to completely expose herself yet. That this kind of power was addictive and could corrupt one so much it started to influence their appearance, was something she'd rather keep for herself for now. Especially now she was reminded she might not be hearing all of Link's thoughts.

 

Hmmmmmmmmmm

 

Uhhh

 

Here......

 

If you would like a weapon I wouldn’t mind giving you a bow to use. If you would feel better using that than the magic.

 

Link reached to his back, grabbing a blue bow and handing it over to her. One thing was absolutely sure now: this boy was in no way related to the blood elves.

 

Just when this is over I would like it back. But for now I think it would have more use with you.

 

"Thank you very much."

 

Tyrande took hold of the bow and tried to use it like she always did her own. As she held the string and looked for an appropriate practice target, an arrow of light formed perfectly in place. Then her eye fell on the eye of a dragon statue that stood all alone and looked like it wouldn't get too damaged by an arrow fired with this little tension. She took aim, fired and... missed by three inches, hitting the floor instead.

 

"It's a bit different from my own bow, but I can get used to it. I will return it to you as soon as this is over."

[Sugar-Free]

CHKUNK

 

 

Ascension's head darted back inside as a loud metallic object impacted close to his head. He looked back out to see Ratchet traversing up the side of the pyramid. When he passed by him, he regarded him with a look of suspicion. Both he and Lightweaver shared the same question, and he looked down at himself and back to them.

 

 

"Oh...I suppose I never explained this. I'll explain it better once we get back to the atrium. For now, suffice it to say that I have the power to change form based on my needs. I'm admittedly limited by frequency and factors such as magic poisons, but I'm still the same Ascension underneath." He pointed that last bit mostly at Lightweaver, who seemed to be eyeing him with a greater incredulity than Ratchet, who had left to gather Solar from the center. Surely she wouldn't have such an issue accepting that, would she? After what they'd accomplish, a bit of body-morphing wouldn't get between them, would it?

 

 

Well...on second thought, I see how that may be an issue...

 

 

He glanced behind to see Ratchet situating Solar on his back. Ascension looked to Lightweaver again. The sand below would be dangerous for him to traverse in this state, but he felt the need to hold it longer in case he needed it. After all, as selfish as it was right now, the return of his power was glorious.

 

 

"Would you be willing to carry me back to where the star was dropped? It would be in my best interest to avoid the sand as I am. I would appreciate your help tenfold if you could. We should make haste, as well--Solar has taken some very deep wounds, and I'd like to treat her for them as soon as possible. Stars' know she's done so much..."

 

 

He waited for an answer, but he couldn't help but feel something was...different about Lightweaver. Due to the overwhelming presence of solar energy, it was hard to tell,but it was almost as if...

 

 

That...isn't possible...is it?

-----------------

 

 

A sigh left Alex's lips.

 

 

Thank you. For once, just...thank you.

 

 

After that, she didn't really care what he was thinking. She guided him to the steps and started making their way upward, occasionally pulling him toward or pushing him away from her to direct his footfalls. The chitinous cold of his claw gave her no comfort, and there was nothing there to suggest any sort of thankfulness on his part. She didn't expect it, but she was reminded of how different he was to the approachable-by-comparison lot that she'd come to know. In a way, she was thankful for it. There wasn't any way to get close to Stormcatcher. For that, she was thankful.

 

 

 

It wasn't long before they started catching up to Tyrande and Link, the former of which seemed to be speaking to herself. She was distantly taken aback by it--she'd figured out of everyone, she'd be the least prone to oddities. Still, Alex ignored it. She didn't care. It wasn't important. She had been set to a task, and that was what mattered. She'd rattle on about the eccentricities of her cohorts once that became something she was capable of.

 

 

"Hey, you all. Try not to prittle around too long. Ike's waiting on us."

 

With that, she squeezed Stormcatcher by them, the doorway to the next floor brightening far up the staircase.

-----------------------

 

"Very well. I shall stay for now, but a fire is not necessary. However, if you happen to have any food, I will gladly consume it. I seem to have... overexerted myself in the last battle."

 

 

Cyil rose from her seat upon the sill, her hand meeting his in a sure, trusting grasp. Though he nearly missed it, her inexpressive mien lightened with a smile, but only for a moment. Ike couldn't guess at what she must have been thinking, but somehow, he knew she must have meant it this time. It had been...almost accidental, not purposeful, easing up from somewhere genuine deep within. Actual happiness. If anything, Ike knew to appreciate it for what it was worth. Such smiles were rare enough to hold close to his heart, and though this wasn't from the expected source, he would do the same for Cyil. He stood and released her hand, being mindful not to unduly sway her lest she fall.

 

 

"Food?" He tried to think of what all was packed with his and Soren's things. Certainly he'd have some dried meat and a few more fruits on hand. It wasn't much, certainly not enough for everyone without divvying it up to minuscule portions, but it was all he could offer. Cyil didn't seem like the ungrateful type so far at least.

 

 

"I should be able to manage that. If you'll give me a sec, I'm gonna run and check on Soren and grab a flint while I'm at it. I don't know about you, but I think it's a bit chilly in here, what with the windows and everything." He turned to go, looking back at her before leaving. He felt like it went without saying, but...

 

 

"Oh, and could you do me a favor and take a break while I'm gone? Looking at you is making me tired."

 

 

...something told him she was a little more than just a little stubborn. Not that he wasn't used to that.

 

 

"If you see a dragon and a group of people, tell them to do the same. I'll be back in awhile."

 

 

He headed down the short flight of steps and made for the right hallway.

=============

 

(placeholder)

Edited February 20, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[padfoot]

Ratchet situated Solar on this back. He wished she was metal, then the mag-drive in his belt would secure her to his suit. Ratchet walked back towards Ascension and Lightweaver, catching what he was explaining. Ratchet looked the Vaporeon over and shrugged "Oh....cool. That will defiantly come in handy if all you guys can spit elements like Solar" he said with a thumbs up.

[Acornia]

Link stopped his steps to watch as Tyrande looked the bow over before glancing around. She must have been looking for something to test the bow on, having found it link laughed when the shot she fired at a odd statue missed by a little ways.

 

Hahahahahahahah

 

 

I have faith in you skills. Although I hope they improve or else you’ll be in trouble.

 

Link turned back and continued up the stairs, wincing in pain every now and then from walking on the foot that the dog thing had used as a chew toy.

 

 

Glancing back he smiled at her, he hadn’t intended to be rude but he found her lack of aim funny.

 

 

"It's a bit different from my own bow, but I can get used to it. I will return it to you as soon as this is over."

 

Oh I have no doubt about that. Specially if we end up in another fight. You’ll get used to that bow real quick.

 

The light patting of feet and clicking of claws on stone alerted link that Alex must have gotten storm moving. And they were catching up to Tyrande and link.

 

"Hey, you all. Try not to prittle around too long. Ike's waiting on us."

Yes not like we didn’t know that. But hey, your with us so we can all be late together.

 

Sure enough as Alex passed them the tip of the stairs came visible. Relief warmed him as he climbed the last couple of steps. Huffing slightly he glanced around. The area seemed to trail off into halls on the right and left. Both halls looked equally in inviting, and shared dark stones and dim lighting.

 

Well which way, I vote we go left. I hate when I go right, usually I get into trouble by Zelda or something.

 

Link took off down the left excited a little with the prospect of resting. But he still had some questions, and time to ask.

Hey Tyrande, why do you think we were brought here?

 

[DuskOfTheStars]

Solar's claws dug in as she gripped Ratchet's body. Her wounds were rather sore, and the sandstorm unnerved her. A haze of regret clouded her mind, and she wasn't capable of words for now. Just silence.

 

---

 

Lightweaver narrowed her eyes slightly. "Your eyes. If you're really Ascension, then how did your eyes change colour?"

 

After all, Shadowbinder isn't even here... and you don't look like a shadow elemental despite the eye colour. Not discounting the fact you are implicitly claiming to transform without an external stimulus, when all transformations I know of require such.

 

The golden dragon heard his next request. Hmm. He seemed to know what Ascension did... perhaps. But she wanted an answer to her question before taking him to where Kklepto had confronted them.

 

---

 

Stormcatcher could feel Alex pulling him up. He would've jerked away if it weren't for the fact that they were ascending stairs... and he did not want to fall. That would be painful, and make him look weak.

 

He could hear someone talking to themself, and then Alex called out. The dark grey dragon was tempted to hiss at someone, but kept his jaws shut. He didn't think they weren't going to shove him off the stairs.

 

The stairs were long. Or at least it felt like they had been ascending for a long time. He couldn't tell how close they were to the end.

Edited February 20, 2017 by Dusky_Flareon

[Sugar-Free]

Ike wasted no time in making his way around the bend of the hall. He’d been able to stave off his concerns long enough to assist Cyil, but now that he was alone, he was growing ever aware of Soren’s prolonged absence. As strange as it was to consider in hindsight, and as much as it had become something of a running examination over the years, Soren rarely ever parted from Ike’s side for long. He’d expected him to rejoin him by now, even if he wasn’t too happy with the situation prior, and the fact that he hadn’t was starting to bother him. It became an instant priority to find him, overshadowing all else.

 

Luckily, Ike didn’t have far to look. As he came down the hall, he could see the grey and green of his sleeve obscuring the length of a staff just beside a set of pillars. It was unmistakably Soren, and he seemed to have simply sat down where it was both convenient and removed from any interaction. That was fine, but something about the way his hand held limply to the rod concerned him. Soren was very particular about keeping his few possessions close to him, and he rarely left them unsecured. His heartbeat picked up at the myriad possibilities.

 

When he came around to his front, Soren was sitting up against the twin pillars, his head dropped to his chest and slouched over as if unconscious. It took a great deal of effort to keep the panic out of his voice.

 

 

“Soren?”

 

 

Soren’s head snapped up, eyes wild for a moment before his expression settled back to soft neutrality.

 

 

“Oh...Ike.”

 

 

Ike stepped up to him and took his place beside him on the floor, being mindful of the staff. Soren put it to his opposite side and moved aside enough to accommodate him. Judging by the sluggishness of his movements, he could tell he must be worn out beyond what he was displaying, so he decided to let him speak when he was ready. Just knowing he was okay was good enough for him, and for awhile, the two sat quietly together, listening to the hollow ever-present hum and echo of the ancient stone halls.

 

 

 

“....Ike?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

 

He heard him breath in, releasing a long, heavy sigh. Ike looked at his face, picking up on the minute traces of tension and remorse in his expression. He closed his eyes and those features deepened, aging his face beyond his years.

 

 

“.....I’m sorry.”

 

 

“For what?”

 

 

Soren ran a hand up his face, stopping to cup his forehead in his palm.

 

 

“For how I handled that. I did so very poorly.”

 

 

Was he talking about Cyil? That surprised him. It must have bothered him more than he let on, he thought, but he didn’t try to intervene. Soren continued.

 

 

“I tried to control a situation that didn’t concern me. I made decisions when it wasn’t my place. And...” His eyes tightened, “...I was curt with you when you didn’t deserve such. I’m so sorry...”

 

 

“Really? I never noticed.” And he hadn’t. Sure, he’d realized he was angry, but it never felt like it was being directed at him. Soren rarely ever expressed displeasure expressly at Ike, and never as a result of malcontent —more often, it was something underlying and external from him that affected Soren’s emotions. There was only one time he could think of that Soren had been combative with him, and even then, it had been—ironically—out of fear of harming their friendship. Likewise, he knew this was likely another case of Soren beating himself up over nothing. To comfort him, he threaded an arm behind his neck and rested it around his shoulders.

 

 

“I think you’re just worrying yourself to death for no reason. Don’t worry about me. I know you don’t mean it.” The muscles in his back and arms gradually relaxed, and Soren lay his hand aside and looked up at him. The worry was still evident, but the severity was completely gone. Ike thumbed over the soft fabric of Soren’s robe to reassure him.

 

 

“As for Cyil? Well, you do stand as my Staff Officer. If had been there before you, I still would’ve asked for your advice. Don’t I always?”

 

 

And there it was, that ever-elusive expression—Soren’s lips turned upward slightly, his eyes relaxing into upward-bowed crescents, accompanied by a hiss of bemusement.

 

 

“Yes...and I will always be here, guiding you.”

 

 

Though it was understated, it was positively radiant, and though he’d been fortunate to be its sole witness, the sight of it tugged at Ike’s affections again and again. It was a shame no one else would ever see him like this, that they would be perpetually greeted by a cold artifice in its place. It had been commonly asserted that, had Soren been kinder to them, he would have attracted quite a few suitors over the course of the two wars, and Ike didn’t doubt that—he could be surprisingly charming when it benefitted him. But such endeavors for two men in their positions would draw unwanted attention, and Soren loathed publicity as much as he seemed to loathe people all together.

 

As it stood, he seemed wholly disinterested in relationships anyway. Though he was often approached with gifts in tow, he remained dismissive of both women and men, and eventually employed something of a personal guard to keep them as far away from him as possible.

 

Besides...as much as he rooted for Soren’s personal development, and even though he would have fully supported Soren and his lover...he couldn’t help but be selfishly relieved that he’d never wed. Ike liked Soren the way he was, and he was so acclimated to his presence that, should he leave, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do without him.

 

 

 

Ike was brought back to reality by the sudden shift of endearment to seriousness in Soren’s expression.

 

“I take it without saying that you chose to allow her to stay?”

 

“I did. She has done a lot for us so far, probably beyond what I’ve seen, even. Having another dragon on our side is a hard opportunity to pass up, too.”

 

Soren seemed to consider something before replying.

 

“I understand that, Ike, but...I just...” He turned his head forward, his gaze drifting to some unknown space that Ike could not see. The distaste he had shown toward her was evident again. He wanted to know.

 

“...do you want to talk about it?”

 

His eyes focused, flicking back up to Ike’s. He sat up and rested his head on the pillar, eyeing the ceiling.

 

“No. It’s fine.” He rolled his head to look at Ike again, “I trust your appraisal. Though I lack any faith in her, if you’ve found her satisfactory, I won’t complain.”

 

Soren let the topic drop, and so, Ike complied. If it was serious, he would know about it sooner or later, he was sure. For now, he slid away from Soren’s side and tugged the bag from behind him, rummaging through it for something to give Cyil. As it turned out, he had less than he remembered. The stand-out among them was the remaining avocado, but since it was Soren’s, he only lifted it long enough to check and make sure it was still edible. He went to place it back—

 

“Give it to her.”

 

He looked up.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Yes. Let that be my apology to her.”

 

In response, Ike pressed the back of his hand to Soren’s forehead, confused.

 

“You’re not sick, are you?” He did feel a little warm, and his face was noticeably flushed, but Soren’s demeanor didn’t change. He paused and diverted his eyes for only a moment before speaking.

 

“I don’t hate her.”

 

He looked down at the green fruit before looking back to Soren. That was unusually forthcoming of him, and astonishingly thoughtful, in a way. For Soren to offer something of his own to another was unheard of. To offer something that he liked and found valuable...without ever directly saying so, Soren had made evident his feelings toward the woman. He cautiously held it to him and rose onto his feet, still crouched on the ground. That reminded him of something, something that had seemingly slipped Soren’s mind.

 

“Alright. I can do that, then. Before I go, why don’t you tell me a little about her?”

 

Soren affirmed and motioned for him to push the bag back over to him. After a moment, he pulled out a leather-bound notebook and flipped to a page written in Heron. Ike sat back and listened to him describe their departure to the tower, the ensuing fight and the transformation. He was quick to raise concerns over her martial abilities, and was acidic in regards to her tendency to hide things. Ike took it all in, keeping silent in consideration, but he, too, had noticed the latter. As for the former, she did seem to carry herself with a sense of nobility that lent itself to royalty, but that wasn’t any of his business. Cyil had come off as respectable, and he wouldn’t paint her with the same brush as other nobility...if, indeed, that was what she was. It did interest him to know she, too, had acted as a commander at some point. Perhaps they had more in common than they realized?

 

“...overall, if anything, I can say she at least seems skilled in what she does. She never said so, but I assume she must have acted as a strategist at some point. She was wise enough not to charge headlong into the fray, and she was flexible and showed competency in changing tactics to meet new...mmgh...!”

 

He suddenly doubled over, his arms bracing himself on both sides. Ike tried to move to help him, but he threw up a hand to stop him. He gasped when he saw what was on his palm, something he’d managed to obscure from him this whole time—a group of red rings resembling those that composed magic circles. He’d never seen such a thing in his life, and he wondered if there was some connection between this and Soren’s sudden onset illness. He could only watch as Soren went still, suppressing grunts of pain from some invisible force that set against him.

 

It only lasted for a few seconds, and Soren sat up slowly, his eyes wide as he examined himself all over.

 

 

“Soren?”

 

 

His eyes affixed to the wall beside him, his body suddenly rigid as though preparing for an encounter. Without warning, his left hand shot out toward it, and a blade of green rent away a clean crescent of stone that fell and broke into pieces. He was so taken aback by this that he was at a loss for what to say. That didn’t matter, though—Soren looked at the hand he’d casted with, satisfied.

 

“...I see. It was a poison all along...I must exercise more caution next time, Nix.”

 

What was he talking about? Nix? Poison? Maybe this was about the panthers he’d spoken of, but he didn’t see the connection between the two events besides what was evident.

 

“Nix’s panthers...they must have carried a poison in their teeth or talons, one that was capable of Silencing magic users. The would explain why I sensed something different in Ganondorf when he was stricken. It’s incredible, really; it even goes so far to completely nullify the affected’s ability to gauge magical latency and manifestation, except when it’s so overpowering that even non-mages could sense it.” He held up the hand that was marked and inspected it with contempt.

 

“Yes, even this is an artifact of his guile. When I used the last of my reserves that had not yet been taken from me by either exhaustion or blight, I was wounded by my waning control over the Fire spirits. Were I any less adept, you would have found little more of me but limbs and viscera.” And then, as if coming upon a realization, he laughed—more of a series of suppressed hisses than true laughter-- but it was bitter and scornful and full of hatred.

 

“I doubt he’s smart enough to realize the extent to which his prey was ensnared. The advantage was his, the odds in his favor: either kill me outright, or watch me blow myself to bits...and he could accomplish neither! What a dumb, conceited beast he is!”

 

He watched him lay a hand over his face as the fit passed, the smirk on his lips denoting his disdain. While he was taken with his thoughts, Ike fished one of the Concoctions out of their pocket and took Soren’s wounded hand into his own. This caused Soren to sit upright, his brows knitted together and his mouth parted.

 

“Ike, I don’t need—“

 

“Yes, you do. Did you even hear what you just said? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Ike popped the top off the bottle with his thumb and poured the fluid out onto his palm. Soren jerked back, disregarding him, but Ike held his hand in place.

 

“Ike,” he persisted, but Ike ignored it. Instead, he simply took his other hand and began to rub over the circles, following the patterns that were traced there. As he did, the redness began to fade, and the swelling began to subside. Before long, the marks had disappeared, and he gave the skin a quick brush and looked to Soren for approval.

 

 

“There. How does that feel?”

 

 

Soren didn’t say anything at first. His attention was focused on his hand, which he freed and looked at closer to his face. He flexed his fingers and turned them out, testing the newly-healed flesh. With smaller afflictions, Concoctions could handle most, if not all the trauma, and he was glad the burn was only skin-deep. Soren eased back and tested his grip on the Mend staff, holding it at different levels and angles to feel how it set against his skin.

 

 

“It’s much better, admittedly.” He set the staff down and lay his hands across his lap. Ike went back to the satchel and replaced the Concoction, digging through it again to find his flint when Soren spoke up again.

 

 

“Thank you...for being concerned about me.”

 

 

Ike stood and smiled at him. To think that he would say it as if it were out-of-place, especially after all these years...

 

 

“Of course. How could I not?” He offered down a hand to him.

 

 

“Do you want to come with me? I’m about to get a fire going, if everything goes as planned.”

 

 

Soren shook his head.

 

 

“No, thank you. I’d rather just have this time to myself, if you don’t mind. I’m not in standing condition, anyway.”

 

 

He understood and nodded, kneeling long enough to push the bag back into its place behind Soren. He secured his items and turned to leave.

 

 

“Oh, and Ike?”

 

 

He looked back over his shoulder.

 

 

“Yeah?”

 

 

“...Be safe. If you need me, come get me. Don’t hesitate to do so.”

 

 

“I will. You worry about you. I’ll be back shortly.”

--------------------

 

 

With his mind settled about Soren, Ike made his way back to the window room, piling a load of wood in his arms as he passed. Once he found his way back to the center of the room, he dropped the broken beams and placed them in an organized pile. Thankfully, the wood was dry and incredibly flammable, so it didn't take too much struggle before he'd cultivated a spark in the shavings he'd made with his knife, and the whole thing started to catch faithfully. Once he got it to the point where it no longer needed babying, he found Cyil and took his place beside her for the time being. Just as he did for Soren, he split the fruit in half and offered it to her one at a time.

 

Now was the point when they'd finally be able to talk. He hoped his offerings to her would open her up a bit more to being spoken to. He decided to start casually.

 

 

"I hope you don't mind avocado. I'm not a fan, but Soren's crazy for them. It's not much, but he suggested that you take it as an apology."

Edited February 21, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[padfoot]

Ratchet bounced Solar on his back to get her weight in a comfortable position. Once they were both comfortable, Ratchet walked towards the window. As he grew closer, he heard the dragon continuing to question their fishy fox friend. Ratchet rolled his eyes, "Oh would you give it a rest?" He asked, getting tired of all the dragon's distrust, " How can you not see that's Ascension? Do you think a fish fox would follow us into a magic castle, travel into a dimensional painting, and squeeze into this opening? To do what? Steal all our sand?" Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, " I'll just meet you near the star. If you haven't been helped in a few minutes I'll come back for you Ascension" he said. Ratchet stepped out of the window and fired his grappler into the stone above the window. He repelled down the side of the pyramid and headed towards where they left the star.

[Sugar-Free]

Before Ascension could address Lightweaver's concern about...his eye color?...Ratchet butted in with an answer.

 

"Oh would you give it a rest? How can you not see that's Ascension? Do you think a fish fox would follow us into a magic castle, travel into a dimensional painting, and squeeze into this opening? To do what? Steal all our sand?"

 

It was harsh, but Ratchet wasn't wrong. He didn't condone the level of sarcasm--something about his lack of consistent features evidently had Lightweaver in a bind--but he'd thought simply telling her it was him would suffice. Though it was reasonable, he'd expected her to be a little bit more trustworthy with him and the others. He'd need to clear up this confusion regarding his "eye color" soon enough.

 

Ratchet, however, looked displeased, and didn't seem content with hanging around.

 

"I'll just meet you near the star. If you haven't been helped in a few minutes I'll come back for you Ascension."

 

With that, he was off with Solar in tow, rappelling down the pyramid and making off toward the pillars. Ascension studied Lightweaver's face, still seeing the doubt in her features. He sat back on his haunches and swished his tail in contemplation. There really wasn't any call for this...

 

 

"Lightweaver...this isn't the time." He looked over to the dispatched condor and back to her again.

 

"I apologize on Ratchet's behalf for his roughness, but I don't disagree. I would never mislead you. This form is one of many that my body can take. As a god and an Eevee, I am unbound to the normal properties of this world and can shape myself to suit my needs. I hope you can understand that. I promise I'll try to explain this better later, but I can't now."

 

 

He tossed his head in the direction of the star, hoping she'd understand. He then narrowed his eyes slightly at her.

 

 

"I believe we need to talk, as well. In private, once we leave the castle."

---------------

 

The two had finally ascended to the second floor. Alex looked around the room and saw a path leading left and another leading right. She considered which would be the better choice. Both seemed equally viable, but she was intrigued by the presence of water stains and the inviting scent of fire at the left entrance. Fire could always mean trouble, but it also lent itself to visions of the hearth. And if there was one thing she missed more than anything, it was home. Though...that realization only made her feel darker.

 

 

I don't have a home. Just a place to lie down.

And how kind Libra had been to give her that. It was easy for her to mistake it for otherwise, considering the prevalence of his diligence denoting every crevice of the little cottage: minute carvings along the moulding, tiny paintings hidden amongst the cupboards, light and flowers awash in every room...hints of him, reminders of him, all wrought in the semblance of things she loved. He'd always said he'd never take commissions, but this lay-space was a work of art, one made in dedication of their faulty concept of "love". She'd always told him she was entirely undeserving of it, seeing as it would all fall to tatters in the hour of darkness that was surely upon them, just as it had been all those times ago...but she'd loved the sense of simulated normalcy. It was almost enough to make her forget it was meaningless.

 

She took Stormcatcher beside her and dragged him down the hall, and after a few turns happened upon the source of the smell--there was a contained fire farther up in another room. This time, she moved back and placed her hands behind him, pushing him inside--the doorway wouldn't fit them both at once--and steering him to a spot close enough to the fire, yet far enough away that he wouldn't set himself alight. Once he was in place, she scanned the room and found Ike...accompanied by the Corrin from before. Because there had to be a Corrin here, too. Because there always had to be one, right? One that could remind her of her faults and one-up her at any turn. Right.

 

 

"I'm going now, Stormy," she said, forcing back that semblance of okay-ness. She gave him a light pat and waved, knowing full and well he probably wouldn't see it.

 

"I've got important business to attend to, so if ya don't mind, imma go now. I'm sure Tyrande and Link keep better company anyway, and you and that Corrin prolly have a lot in common by now. So! I'll see ya later. Don't follow me~"

 

Another half-hearted joke at his expense. Now that she'd fulfilled her duty, she wasn't going to stay around any longer. She didn't know where she was going to go, but it was going to be away from here. She started heading to the right hallway and considered her options.

 

 

 

I could always just...leave. There's no tournament, no Marth...there's no point in me being here...

 

She sighed as she left earshot and rubbed her hands over her face.

 

 

Ascension said this was all part of a prophecy. And the first rule of prophecies is that they usually always come true. So...if that's the case...

 

 

 

...then why was I chosen to take part in it?

 

She didn't know. When she thought about it, she could only come up with the worst answers. Something along the lines of being a sacrifice, of an obstacle to be overcome...she certainly was't a hero, she was painfully aware of as much. The more she considered it, the more she realized she didn't want the answer, for as much as other Robins had tilted the odds in their favor...she would be forever beholden to her fate. One where she was ever-undying, one where the faces of her loved ones repeated infinitely in a hundred or more iterations, one where she no longer even saw them as people...just pawns moving in perfect predictability under machinations beyond their concern or control.

 

 

Forever and ever.

 

 

Never changing.

 

 

Never knowing.

 

 

Always forgetting with the destruction of time.

 

 

Always forgetting the mistake she'd made. The one she would make again and again.

 

 

 

Coward.

Edited February 21, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[Lemniscate]

As Ike released her hand, she took note of the deliberate care with which he did so. It was almost as if she were a fragile object which would tip over and break with a single errant movement. While she would normally have been irritated by this, she was tired enough not to mind it. She liked to preserve her dignity, but she wasn't arrogant and certainly wasn't enough of a fool to insult what was intended to be a caring gesture.

 

"Food?" Ike wondered for a moment before continuing. "I should be able to manage that. If you'll give me a sec, I'm gonna run and check on Soren and grab a flint while I'm at it. I don't know about you, but I think it's a bit chilly in here, what with the windows and everything."

 

Ike turned and began to make for the halls, cape billowing as he went. Now that Ike mentioned it, she realized it was rather breezy in the room. It was easy to ignore the weather when she was so used to her draconic affinity numbing the cold, although she supposed it would be rather chilly in the room without her natural resistance. She could understand Ike's desire to build a fire, even if it was rather strange to build one inside a building. But before his cape could vanish behind the steps, Ike turned and directed one last thought to her.

 

"Oh, and could you do me a favor and take a break while I'm gone? Looking at you is making me tired. If you see a dragon and a group of people, tell them to do the same. I'll be back in awhile."

 

She nodded once, and Ike disappeared down the steps. Immediately, she lowered herself to the ground and took a seat, exhaling in relief as the ache in her muscles subsided. It was tempting to take a nap right then and there, but she still had a message to pass on and an Ike to wait for. The sound of distant footsteps was a firm reminder, so she forced herself to look alert. As she had expected, Ike soon came back up the steps carrying a bundle of firewood. He wasted no time in getting the pile of wood ablaze, though it still took a bit of time before the fire could sustain itself.

 

Once the fire no longer required his full attention, he took a seat beside her and took out a lumpy black fruit. A quick slice down the middle revealed it to be an avocado, something rather rare in her native land of Nohr. She took the halves gratefully as they were offered to her, savoring its refreshingly smooth yet grassy taste. Food that tasted so... green never ceased to amaze her, despite the fact that she could now get as many fresh fruits and vegetables as she wanted from Hoshido. She supposed a part of her had never really left the cold and dark land of Nohr, and that part of her was constantly surprised by things that should have seemed everyday to her by now.

 

Ike was quick to strike up a conversation as soon as it was convenient for them both. His tone was casual, but what he said surprised her more than the avocado itself.

 

"I hope you don't mind avocado. I'm not a fan, but Soren's crazy for them. It's not much, but he suggested that you take it as an apology."

 

Had she heard him wrong? Soren wanted to apologize to her? After all that she'd done? If anyone should be apologizing, it would be her. The fact that he didn't seem like the kind of person to apologize, much less offer something he liked only enhanced her disbelief. I guess I shouldn't have made so many assumptions... heh, I should know that better than anyone. As much as it relieved her that her presence wouldn't be completely unwelcome, it also mysteriously saddened her. She shouldn't be the one receiving apologies - she should be the one apologizing. Although she didn't know Soren well, she was absolutely certain he deserved an apology more than she did.

 

"No, it's quite alright. It isn't every day that I get to eat something so fresh. But... if I may inquire, you said Soren offered this as an apology. Did I hear that correctly? Because if anyone should be apologizing, it's me."

 

She continued to stare intently at Ike in a state of disbelief until the presence of electricity made her turn her head. A rather large and insectlike dragon greeted her, dark scales lined with bright blue... lightning? Whatever species of dragon this was, it certainly appeared less than amiable. The dragon's appearance was so startling, she nearly missed the distinctive purple robes of the Robin. She was barely there for a second - a quick pat on the dragon's shoulder and she was gone. It almost seemed as if the Robin was avoiding her, but she couldn't blame her.

 

There was so much she wanted to do - so many apologies and introductions she should be making, but she simply didn't have the energy for it. All she could manage was sitting by the fire and basking in its warmth, though even that made her drowsy.

Edited February 22, 2017 by Silverphoenixx

[DuskOfTheStars]

Lightweaver wanted to growl at Ratchet, but she knew that would only cause trouble and attempted to mask the feeling with an expression of mostly neutrality. And some doubt.

 

She wouldn't put much past others, really. When some insisted on sneaking into the Ruins either to kill the dragons they hated, or to 'borrow' valuable relics... someone tailing them to take what they were searching for wasn't too far out to the golden dragon.

 

A god. At least thas what he claimed himself to be. A god. But how had he changed from appearing as a ... neutral... affinity to another? Even the Eleven couldn't do that.

 

She didn't voice her thoughts, though. It seemed it wouldn't do much now.

 

His eyes narrowed. Lightweaver didn't visibly react to his request beyond a slight nod, noting it in her mind. What could the fox want?

 

The dragon bowed to the other, acquiescing to his request. She knew when to stop resisting for the moment... but if he tried anything, she would unleash her magic.

 

But that light. That tainted light. It clung to her and disturbed her.

 

 

---

 

Stormcatcher's feet were finally on flat ground that wasn't a stairstep. He scented... fire?

 

Alex was dragging him down the hall, and he put some resistance in now that they weren't on stairs any longer. Still, he was dragged for a distance due to being off-balance without the ability to see.

 

She then pushed him in, causing the grey dragon to stumble slightly. He recovered, and realized he was being guided to a spot near the fire. There was speaking, too. There were others in here. He guessed the spot was near the fire, given the scent of burning being stronger and the sensation of heat. When they came to a stop, he felt Alex let go.

 

And then, a moment later, Stormcatcher realized he was being touched again and tensed as Alex stated she was leaving. Then the touch was gone. He could hear the faint crackling of the fire if he strained his ears. The dragon didn't let down his guard after she was moving away, footsteps clearly audible.

 

Not now. Not when he couldn't see. Not when others were clearly here. The lightning dragon could almost swear he felt a trace of water magic...

Edited February 22, 2017 by Dusky_Flareon

[Sugar-Free]

Ike shrugged in response to Cyil's skepticism. Having his back to the wall was grating with a pauldron pushing into his shoulder, so he leaned forward and started working on making himself more comfortable by fiddling at the affixing belts.

 

 

"To tell you the truth, I don't really get it myself. I mean, you did lie to him about your transforming ability, which was a stupid move on your part. Not only that, but you've been withholding information from the two of us since we met. I won't say I don't understand his position right now." Now that the belts were freed, he slid the armor piece off and set it aside, now focusing on removing his gauntlets. No sense at stopping now that he'd started.

 

"But I understand why you did. I'm not holding that against you; I'm just talking from his perspective. The way I look at it, if it's serious enough to warrant my concern, it'll come to a head eventually. And if and when it does?" He looked up from his wrist at her, his eyes narrowing to get his point across.

 

 

"I'll make sure to deal with it."

 

 

Getting that out of the way, and similarly freeing up his right hand and removing the bandaging underneath, he turned his attention to the left. This one was slightly more difficult to fool with with the added armor, but it wasn't much. He could practically dress and undress himself in his sleep after putting up with the burden of his Vanguard armor, which was graciously returned to Begnion after it had seen its use.

 

"Whatever's got him so upset at you isn't my responsibility. I can tell it's something, but since he didn't say, I'm assuming it's not a big deal."

 

Or what he thinks isn't a big deal, he thought. Soren had a bad habit of micromanaging to the point of taking unnecessary burden onto himself. The burn and the cause of it were proof enough. He knew from their history that it was just a symptom of who he was--someone who spoke little and to few except when he needed to, someone unused to forthcoming-- and he didn't doubt his ability to handle things himself, but sometimes, he wished Soren would just let him help him.

 

"If you're curious, you could just ask him, but this squabble's between you two in the end. Not me." By now, he'd moved to the sheath and leather breastplate and undid them along with his cape. He was careful not to be hasty though, as Ragnell was as weighty as it was long, and it'd be awkward to smack Cyil upside the head with even the broadside of the blade. He arranged all the items in a half-neat arrangement, leaving only the greaves and knife sheath intact.

 

 

It occurred to him at this point that he hadn't really answered the question to the best of his ability. Not why she should apologize--why he was apologizing. That was going to be significantly harder to explain faithfully when she didn't know him outside their limited engagement. He would try though, and he hoped she'd just take his word for it. He prepared himself for the disbelief he was so used to being met with.

 

"As for the gift? Well...Soren might be moody, but he's not stupid. I think he had time to reflect on what he said and realize he was being unreasonable. He knows you're a valuable asset to the team. Besides," he leaned back and rested his arms above his head, "he told me everything that happened in between the campsite and the tower. He won't say it, but I'll go ahead and tell you he spoke highly of your combat prowess." And that was plenty reason for Ike to have his faith in Cyil reinforced. He valued Soren's opinion highly, especially in tandem with his own perceptions. He'd never led him stray even once, and he knew better than to question him on topics like this.

 

But that brought up a point for him that he couldn't help asking:

 

 

 

"Soren also told me you are, or were, a commander of an army? If you don't mind me asking, who and where did you lead?"

---------------------

 

Alex walked with her head hung low, watching the floor go by. She raised it long enough to take in the image of Soren slumped against a couple of pillars, but he didn't regard her; she chose to do the same. Saying goodbye would be useless--she'd done a good job of forcing him away from her. No time to take back all of her work. No reason.

 

 

Instead, she made for the steps and began her descent, leaving behind another reality as she did. Her gateway out was a quick dart into one of the many inner pockets of her jacket--this one significantly more padded than the others, both for identity's sake and for its protection. Her fingers only perused for a moment before feeling the cool cylindrical bottle concealed there; she held it in her palm to warm it before bringing it forth. Something about the cold glass seemingly losing the sharpness of its form as it matched her temperature both calmed and sickened her. To her, without pulling it out to see it for herself, the bottle was nothing more than that outline. Melting away into nothingness, absorbed and banished without any distinguishing between...disappearing completely until time cooled her into shape yet again...

 

It was so easy. Just grasping this bottle reminded her of how easy it truly was.

 

 

She wanted to see how it really looked. She wanted to make sure she was ready to melt away.

 

 

Upon reaching the first floor, she looked back to make sure no one was following her, then held up the bottle so that the light illuminated the core. Inside, little more than pitch and speckles against the smoky-grey glass, was a dark paste. The heat of her palm had caused some of it to go runny, causing little streaks to start forming as she tilted it, watching it go. It would take more work to get it to the consistency she wanted it at; the bottle was too small to even get her pinky finger in, so reducing it to a liquid was the only means of ingesting it. The paste form was a nuisance, but it protected her precious potion from spilling everywhere in case the bottle broke. After all, she could only ever afford the stuff once in a lifetime, and she wasn't intending on making this any harder on herself than need be.

 

She placed the bottle between her hands and began running it back and forth, steadily approaching the exit and giving it a push.

 

 

 

 

 

"Wh...are...are you...are you ****ing kidding me right now?!"

 

She laid into the stone doors as hard as she could, slamming her shoulders, her hands, her feet and ever her whole self into it. She hit and smacked and punched and kicked at the door, pleading it to open, just open, just for now, just for this! If she'd ever hoped, if there was enough of her left to manage it, it was draining out of her like a gape in her heart. She'd have rather bled to death than this. She'd have rather been burned or sliced or gnashed to death in some creature's jaws than this. She'd have rather decided to live than this.

 

"Come on!!! Please just let me have this one thing! Please!!! Please don't make me do this here!!!

 

 

But the door would not budge. She slammed her forearms into the door one more time before sliding all the way down to the floor. Her fists, pressed to the stone just to feel something, dribbled with blood from the raw lacerations.

 

"Come on...haven't I done enough...? Why can't I...why can't I just...?"

 

There was no answer. Not from the ether nor from herself. She didn't know why she couldn't. She would never stop asking herself that. But there she was sure she'd never know the answer. She slapped her hands to her face to force back the feelings she was regaining.

 

"...f-fine...who even cares, amirite? Who cares what I leave behind, yanno?...I made them not care on purpose...so they won't..."

 

 

So they wouldn't. That was why. That answer was the easiest. Even if that reason pulled hers in two different directions, she had to choose one over the other.

 

So they wouldn't. And they never would. Even when she felt, she didn't know if that was satisfactory to her. But it had to be, and it would. Now that she was going, it had to.

 

 

Alex pulled herself back to her feet and ran her sleeve across her face. When she looked down, she saw only two realities:

 

One--the bottle. Where the promise of warmth and cold was a certainty. Forever and ever. Never changing.

 

The other--the Mark of Grima, the black almost obscured with reddening cuts.

 

 

 

"This timeline's...no good..."

 

 

 

She closed her left hand. The shape disappeared.

 

 

 

"L-Libra?" She swallowed, her vision submerged in water, "...will you f...forgive me...for this?"

 

------------------------

 

Ascension realized he was holding his breath.

 

 

Lightweaver eventually nodded to him in response, lowering herself so that he could find his way without trouble. With a leap, he landed on her back, mindful of her many spines lacing down her back, and the two of them met back up with Solar and Ratchet down near the checker pillars. He didn't bother jumping down--he sprayed a jet of water at the ground in such a way that, with quick direction, Lightweaver was able to intercept the star and collect it. With it in tow, the group experienced a flash through reality, and they were flung back out through the wet-solid painting face and onto the basement floor.

 

Ascension himself tumbled off of Lightweaver in the aftermath and into the water, but was pleasantly surprised that his form had held. Not waiting for the others to collect themselves, he began speaking to them all, back still turned to check out their surroundings.

 

 

To his dismay, that sensation was still there. But Eos...

 

 

Then..it must be her, then...I was afraid of this...

 

 

"Alright...we've made it back. Let's head back up into the atrium and collect the others. We'll stop to rest and hopefully, we'll be able to head for the Star door tomorrow."

 

With that, he began to walk off. He hated being rude, but...part of him was still searching. Praying it wasn't her. That it couldn't be...

 

But if Klepto, a non-elemental could be affected...then who else could be...?

 

 

((Not a whole lot here, I know. I have to check some things before I'm comfortable with moving through the star door. Details in OOC when available))

Edited February 24, 2017 by Sugar-Free

[Lemniscate]

"To tell you the truth, I don't really get it myself. I mean, you did lie to him about your transforming ability, which was a stupid move on your part. Not only that, but you've been withholding information from the two of us since we met. I won't say I don't understand his position right now."

 

Cyil stiffened slightly at this, but didn't interrupt. She hadn't really had a choice - well, that was a lie. She could have taken her Dragonstones off and made up her mind not to transform, but if Soren had chosen to attack her when they met... it would have been risky, to say the least. Besides, they were better off not knowing more about her, especially since she'd witnessed Soren's reaction to the info she'd revealed. Risking the same hostility just to get rid of distrust would be foolish when she wasn't yet fully recovered.

 

"But I understand why you did. I'm not holding that against you; I'm just talking from his perspective. The way I look at it, if it's serious enough to warrant my concern, it'll come to a head eventually. And if and when it does?" Ike paused for effect, looking up from his armor with his eyes narrowed.

 

"I'll make sure to deal with it."

 

Now, there weren't many things that could frighten her anymore, but she couldn't help but feel a flicker of fear at his words. She didn't want to fight him - she wasn't sure she could. That hesitation would secure Ike's victory over her if they ever clashed, she was sure of that. And - if Ike was serious enough to turn his blade on her - she knew that he would spare her no mercy. She was unsettled enough to jump at his next words, although she hid it well.

 

"Whatever's got him so upset at you isn't my responsibility. I can tell it's something, but since he didn't say, I'm assuming it's not a big deal. If you're curious, you could just ask him, but this squabble's between you two in the end."

 

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Ike mentioned that it wasn't a big deal. Soren hadn't mentioned what she'd said either, so she was safe for now. Ironically, she had Soren's distant personality to thank for that. If he had been a bit more open or aggressive, then he would surely have informed Ike. Then, Ike would have asked questions, and she didn't have the energy to answer them now. Her reluctance to answer would have made her seem more suspicious and would likely have led to increased hostility. Ike had paused for a second to arrange his armor and weapon, but she sensed that he wasn't yet done talking. Silently, she hoped he would move on to a different subject, a wish that was soon granted.

 

"As for the gift? Well...Soren might be moody, but he's not stupid. I think he had time to reflect on what he said and realize he was being unreasonable. He knows you're a valuable asset to the team. Besides," Ike leaned back, reclining against his arms, "he told me everything that happened in between the campsite and the tower. He won't say it, but I'll go ahead and tell you he spoke highly of your combat prowess."

 

This information didn't surprise her as much as the apology did, but it still changed her perception of Soren. He obviously wasn't one to compliment others, but the fact that he saw it as important enough to mention to Ike was enough of a compliment for her.

 

"Soren also told me you are, or were, a commander of an army? If you don't mind me asking, who and where did you lead?"

 

The question was the logical successor to the statement before it, but she reflexively put her guard up. Her war wouldn't mean anything beyond a slew of names to this Ike, and most of the memories it brought up were bitter ones. Especially... that one. She didn't want to relive it again, not when she had just shut it up where she couldn't be reminded of it. It cut too close to her origins anyway, and she wanted to avoid that right now. Her mind was made up before she even spoke, even before she opened her mouth. But before she could form the words she summoned forth almost automatically, she remembered Ike words from seconds earlier.

 

Not only that, but you've been withholding information from the two of us since we met.

 

The words died on her tongue as she reconsidered. After all that she chose not to tell them, they deserved to know a little about her. Even if it was just a bunch of names interspaced with meaningless deaths, they had earned the right to know. She wouldn't hide behind her perfected facade this time. Not when she had to repay the trust Ike had bestowed upon her. I refuse to let my cowardice characterize me. Yes, indeed, that was what it was. It was fear of remembering - fear of being forced to relive the moments she hated most, the ones she wished that she would forget but knew she couldn't. She resolved to tell Ike honestly and without half truths, to defy her fear for a moment, even if she knew it would return later.

 

"Yes, that is true." Here, Cyil paused for second. This was truly the point of no return. Once she continued, she wouldn't be able to retreat under her carefully prepared responses anymore.

 

She took a deep breath, then let it out.

 

Tell it like it was. Don't think about the details.

 

"I led only a small handful of allies at first, but that number quickly grew. We - I - had to fight against my family. It was for their own sake, because there was a much greater threat to us all. That threat was Anankos, the Silent Dragon."

 

My father.

 

"He was one of the First Dragons, gone mad with age and turned against humanity. He sought to destroy us all, but he was slain with the same sword I carry now, the Omega Yato." She pointed to the sword still held in its sheath, chainsaw blades whirring and spitting flames.

 

"Legends say it only chooses those who are worthy, and those who will save the world." At that, she had to scoff quietly at herself. "Save the world, huh? Sometimes I wonder if it chose wrong. After all, I'm the child of Anankos... what's to say I won't go insane and destroy the world?"

 

She whispered the last part to herself, making sure Ike wasn't able to hear her. Carefully, she unsheathed the Yato and laid it flat on her palm. The four central slots emitted a faint red glow, one for each of her siblings that wielded a legendary weapon. First - Rajinto, the Lightning Katana. She wondered if her brother Ryoma's son, Shiro, was wielding it now. Second - Fujin Yumi, the Divine Bow. Takumi was definitely still using it now, despite his son's archery prowess. He wouldn't ever admit to being too old for a fight, not even if she threatened to cut off that pineapple hairstyle of his. The thought made her smile to herself as the Yato glowed brighter, almost as if sensing her thoughts.

 

Next was Xander's sword, Siegfried. Sometimes, she wondered if Xander had named his son Siegbert on purpose - he would one day wield the blade, and their names would match. Last, but certainly not least was Brynhildr, expertly wielded by her genius brother Leo. Out of all of them, he was the most likely to have passed his weapon to his son - after a long lecture, of course. Forrest's gentle demeanor and pastel clothing contrasted sharply with Brynhildr's dark cover, but the innate elegance of it suited him. With a faint bittersweet smile, she gave the Yato one last quick inspection before resheathing it and gazing into the fire.

 

"Anyway, that's that. I hope that answered your question. If you like, you can pass this info on to Soren, since he deserves to know something about me."

 

((New character reveal to be added or revealed in the next post~!))

[DuskOfTheStars]

Stormcatcher listened to the conversation. It sounded like Ike was talking to someone.

 

Silent... Dragon? He wondered what this Silent Dragon was... and why it was called Silent. Why was it silent, if that was what it had been named after?

 

But that didn't concern him. It didn't. He turned his mind away from those thoughts. What did concern him was the fact the water magic seemed to be in the direction of the conversation. The grey dragon sparked again, and let out a hiss directed towards where he thought it came from.

 

He was seriously considering attempting to leave. Water snd wind..

Wind and water.

 

He could feel them if they were a natural affiliation. An alignment. But if it was learned snd not inborn... he could tell when it was one of them, but not which.

 

A mark of those dragons. The thought caused him to snarl again in anger. But there was something else beneath, something the dragon wouldn't admit.

 

He didn't need any help leaving. He didn't want help.

 

----

 

The golden dragon got up off the ground, wincing. She was larger, and had fallen hard enough that her chest and neck were sore.

 

Lightweaver let out a soft hiss when she realized the taint was still on her. No, in her. There went any faint chance of it being simply residual energy from that sky clinging on...

 

It was almost like what she thought being Shade-touched was like - feeling something in you. Something that shouldn't be there. Only instead of consuming darkness and void, it was tainted firey light.

 

The others had touched down hard, and Solar was bleeding. Lightweaver could smell the blood and see it coming from gashes.

 

She flicked her ears. The golden dragon had no healing magic, and she wasn't sure if anyone here had bindings for the gashes or healing magic.

Edited February 25, 2017 by Dusky_Flareon

[Lemniscate]

((Changed Aine's color to mediumblue from royalblue because it was too similar to Alex's color.))

 

"Hm, I wonder... since Breidablik summoned me, what will happen if I shoot it at myself? There aren't any orbs in it right now, so..."

 

Aine stood in the middle of a circle of ruins, looking down the barrel of a gun-shaped relic. It was slightly chilly in the twilight breeze, but her robe blocked most of it. She had chosen this time to go outside because she knew that everyone else would be eating dinner, therefore leaving her unsupervised and free to try an experiment she'd been planning for weeks. Sure, it wasn't exactly the safest thing to try, but she couldn't bear her curiosity any longer. Maybe if she could go back to her world, she could quickly charge her phone and grab the latest internet news before heading back. No one would notice, and she'd finally satiate her thirst for technology. This universe was cool and all, but severely lacking in electronics.

 

"Aine! What are you doing out here?"

 

She started, squeaking, before scrambling to hide behind a toppled rock. How had Anna found out she was missing? She swore the commander of the Order of Heroes watched her like a hawk, though she couldn't blame her. Her ability to summon heroes was rare, and to lose her would be to lose the war against Embla. It almost made her feel bad for trying such a dangerous experiment, but she was sure nothing would happen. She'd fired the empty Breidablik plenty of times before, and it hadn't done anything. Her internet fantasy was just wishful thinking, although there was always a small chance...

 

"Aine? I'm coming over, don't try to hide from me!"

 

She jumped again, before steadying her grip on the Breidablik. It felt odd to point a gun at her face, especially when they were such lethal weapons in her homeworld, but she knew the Breidablik didn't possess lethal force. All it did was summon heroes, and even then it needed orbs loaded inside of it. Nothing bad would happen... right? She gulped and shifted her weight, palms sweating profusely. With a slightly nervous smile, she steeled her nerves and pulled the trigger harder than necessary. There was a flash of light, not unlike that of summoning a hero, then nothing.

 

 

"What was that? Aine, are you okay?"

 

 

But when Anna rounded the rock, there was nothing there.

 

 

 

Just empty space, and a faint flicker, almost as if Aine had become a ghost.

 

--------

 

 

"Wha - waugh! Oof!"

 

The white light faded, leaving her momentarily blinded. She stumbled, thrown off balance, before tripping and falling onto hard stone. Wait... this stone was gray, not sandy beige like the rocks in the summoning ruins. It felt damp and cold, plus it smelled! Ew! Immediately, she pushed herself to a standing position, dusting off her white-and-gold robes. Already, she felt a bruise forming on the knee she had fallen on, although she ignored it in favor of scanning her surroundings. She was standing in a corner, brick wall to her right and engraved pillars to her left. There wasn't anyone she could see inside the building, but the gloomy atmosphere gave her chills.

 

"In movies, something bad always pops out of creepy buildings like these... But I've got a dagger! I'm safe!"

 

She fumbled around for her dagger, momentarily panicking when she didn't feel it anywhere. But then her foot hit a piece of metal and she looked down, finding her dagger on the ground. For a moment, she simply stared at it in exasperation before bending down and picking it up. It was a lot less scary now that she had a weapon, albeit one she was semi-ineffective at using. No matter, a weak weapon was better than no weapon at all! Suddenly, she heard footsteps from her left, followed by a female voice she didn't recognize.

 

"Wh...are...are you...are you ****ing kidding me right now?!"

 

Again, she jumped, before gripping her dagger tighter. Maybe she could sneak up on whatever else was in the building with her and stab it before it attacked? That is, if it was dangerous. It could very well be another person trapped inside the building, in much the same predicament as her. There was only one way to find out. Slowly, she inched past a pillar engraved with dragons and headed towards the voice, noiselessly descending a flight of stairs as she did so. No screaming if it - maybe it's a her? It sounds like a girl... anyway! No screaming if she talks again! No jumping! Be stealthy!

 

"Come on!!! Please just let me have this one thing! Please!!! Please don't make me do this here!!!"

 

Whatever was speaking didn't sound so threatening... but maybe it was a trap. She still had another flight and a half of steps to go before she could see the source of the voice, but so far so good. This is putting my hide and seek skills to good use... no Aine, focus! This isn't the time to be distracted! She shook the hair out of her face before continuing, keeping her breathing even despite her excitement. If she started breathing noisily, the voice would know in no time that she was here! And she was so close too! Once she started down the last flight of stairs, she would be able to see the source of the voice!

 

"...f-fine...who even cares, amirite? Who cares what I leave behind, yanno?...I made them not care on purpose...so they won't..."

 

By this time, she was more concerned for the voice than for herself. Whoever or whatever was speaking didn't sound so mentally secure, and definitely didn't seem like a monster trying to lure her into a trap. She was inching along the floor now, millimeters from the edge of the stairs. One last step - and she could see the source of the voice. It was - Robin??? But this one had brown hair, unlike the ones she had summmoned. She was holding something in her hand and crying, whispering something she couldn't hear. Whatever she was holding, it didn't look like she was going to do anything good with it.

 

"Hey hey, stop! Whatever you're doing, don't do it! Unless it's something good, but... ah! That's not the point!"

 

She rushed down the last flight of stairs, feet practically flying over the stone as she took them two by two. It was a bit of a struggle to make sure she didn't trip, but she was more worried about the Robin. Up close, she could see red streaked across the large double door in front of her and splattered on the ground. Blood - from what? Giving the Robin a quick glance, she soon located the bleeding cuts on her hands. Ah - what to do now? She didn't know much about first aid, but she figured she should help clean the blood. There was no water, so she couldn't wash it off, but at least she could wipe it with her sash. The red would stain, but it didn't matter.

 

"Let me see your hands, please. They're cut, and you wouldn't want an infection in them."

 

With a quick tug, she loosened the sash on her left hip and gathered it up in her hands. The Robin was visibly older than her, but it didn't stop her from looking authoritative. She figured the Robin wasn't really in the fighting mood anyway, so she grabbed one of her hands that wasn't holding an object and gently wiped the blood off. Her sash was quickly turning crimson, although the cuts themselves weren't as bad as she'd expected. That was good, because she didn't really know how to treat serious injuries. Anything other than blood also tended to make her a bit uncomfortable, although she had gotten used to seeing more gory injuries after being in the Order of Heroes.

 

"What're you doing all alone in a damp, smelly, stone building anyway? I guess you could ask me the same question, but I get the feeling that you've been here longer than me."

 

She chatted as she worked, although she wasn't sure if the Robin even wanted to talk. It was worth a try, right?

Edited February 25, 2017 by Silverphoenixx

[Thaelasan]

The horse flew in first, taking flight to avoid landing, though gravity seemed weird here. She struggled to keep herself airborne for a moment.

Then Owain and Severa fell, landing on Caeldori's back safely as she flew up to grab them both. She whinnied happily.

"Good job, girl. Good job!" Severa commented, patting the horse's mane. "Well done~!"

Owain gave her a glance.

"Did you just use cutesy talk-"

"Where's the star?" Severa interrupted, gazing at their surroundings.

 

A myriad of traps decorated their apparent path, with spinning platforms, electric orbs, the strange, brown, armless creatures from before, and other such glorious choices for home improvement. Severa shook her head.

"I don't see any of those cannon things in here." she frowned. "So I'm not about to do ANY of this nonsense."

"Agreed." Owain nodded, as the two flew through the path, avoiding a few stray electric orbs.

 

Finally, they reached a large, green pipe at the end of the road. The pipe seemed to lead down below them, into the abyss, which Severa noted with a bit of trepidation.

"How does this guy keep building stuff without any solid ground?!" she asked, concerned.

"I don't think any of this follows any natural law!" Owain stated, impressed. "If only I could master such capabilities!"

"You aren't natural either." Severa smirked, crossing her arms. "But now what do we do? Caeldori can't fit in that."

"Then we fly down and follow it into the abyss." Owain said.

"Urgh. I hate not being able to see where I'm going." Severa responded reluctantly. She'd known the answer from the start. She'd hoped there was an alternative.

"We could always just jump off!"

"You have fun with that." Severa replied quickly and curtly, before holding out her hand for him to mount Caeldori again.

[Sugar-Free]

Something about Ike's inquiry seemed to perturb Cyil. It was hard to pin it down, but her demeanor froze momentarily only to thaw into discontent. He'd wonder why, but war had a tendency to do that to people. There was no glory in bloodshed, and some--he guessed Cyil was no different--were so affected by it that it changed them forever, deeper in the skin than the silvery scars any weapon could leave behind. Her mouth moved to form a response, hesitating for a breath, and then...

 

 

"Yes, that is true."

 

 

Ike watched her breath in, her entire form seeming to become simultaneously resolute and weary as she released it in a sort of sigh. Ike was prepared for anything she could say to him.

 

 

"I led only a small handful of allies at first, but that number quickly grew. We - I - had to fight against my family."

 

 

His face softened in solemnity. Though the details were as of yet unclear, the thought of what that entailed--your own family? But why?-- struck a chord with him. Certainly, he had witnessed his share of discontent amongst the Mercenaries upon his promotion to their commander, but from the tone of her voice, he figured this was more along the lines of a true blood dispute than a workplace disagreement. However, that only brought up more questions: Why did you have to fight them? Why couldn't they be reasoned with? What task could have come up that forced your hand against them? But this last question was to be answered soon, he realized.

 

 

"It was for their own sake, because there was a much greater threat to us all. That threat was Anankos, the Silent Dragon."

 

 

He heard it again--that sound in her voice. The one that weighted her words with so much history, so much implication beyond his reckoning. Ike knew dragons well enough, but from the way Cyil had spoken their name and title as if it were a curse, he had the inclination that this was an entirely different beast that what he'd come in contact with before. As for what that meant...he didn't know if he wanted to know. But whatever this "Anankos" was, they had impressed some fear or loathing upon her, and for that, he both respected her composure and contemplated what this great fear could truly encompass.

 

 

"He was one of the First Dragons, gone mad with age and turned against humanity. He sought to destroy us all, but he was slain with the same sword I carry now, the Omega Yato. Legends say it only chooses those who are worthy, and those who will save the world."

 

He had noticed the "blade" before. She took the Yato from its sheath and laid it out on her palm, the light of the fire in the background hardly a glimmer to the sword's brilliant arcane blaze. What he'd never gotten the chance to see before was the four strange oval markings along the flat of the blade, which glowed with a mysterious red light. It would have drawn him more, but in light of the fact that the sword infinitely spun with a bladed chain around its length, he figured it was a design element over anything else. He became curious to what the weapon would feel like in his own hands, but if it was truly a sword meant for Cyil, then it was unlikely it would see him as a suitable wielder. Besides, Ragnell was such a part of his natural flow in the heat of battle that anything less would feel...imbalancing. While the sword didn't care whose hands it entered, it was safe to say that it had become less of a weapon and more of an extension of himself, and he didn't feel bad about spiriting it away with him on his journey, if only because it kept it out of the hands of less-savory individuals who might like to use it for less-honorable endeavors.

 

 

He snorted inwardly at the thought.

 

 

You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone anymore who could even pick the thing up, let alone swing it around. He made a mental note to ask Cyil if she'd like to try.

 

"Anyway, that's that. I hope that answered your question. If you like, you can pass this info on to Soren, since he deserves to know something about me."

 

 

Ike nodded; it wasn't much, but confirming Soren's suspicions would bring him some form of assuredness. Discarding the image of the girl trying desperately to lift Ragnell in vain, his mind was brought back to the meat of their conversation. Ike tilted his head forward and examined Cyil as she sheathed the Yato, her gaze growing distant as the fire reflected in her crimson eyes.

 

 

He felt a twinge in his chest. A memory just like this. He crossed his legs loosely and leaned onto his knees, eyes narrowed against the light with a tinge of sorrow weighing them.

 

 

"...it's hard, isn't it? Being wrapped up in a bunch of nonsense you never asked to be a part of? Especially when family's involved." He picked at a flaw in the floor until a fractured piece came up. He rubbed his fingers over the tiny stone, feeling the pockets and roughness over its surface. He remembered mornings in the mess hall, hovering near the stovetop as Oscar broke eggshells and sliced vegetables, practically begging him to get the bacon going...afternoons in the outskirts of the fort, arms aching and hands blistered as his training sword smacked and rattled against his father's in quick succession...cool evening nights spend in lamplight, leaned over Soren's shoulder as he sat writing his delicate script, spinning stories of his travels to entertain him...it was in hindsight that Ike really felt how much he appreciated it, how much he missed it. The simplicity and familiarity of the Mercenaries and their lives, of home, and just how easily the ambitions of one man had nearly rent it all away. And, upon being relieved of duty once his madness had been quelled, being pulled back into it by the decree of an ancient entity that only he could overcome...

 

 

Ike wouldn't have traded the outcome for the time he'd lost. After all, there had been a score to settle between him an a certain ebony-clad knight, and he didn't shirk responsibility for prolonged involvement because of it. But...

 

 

"I know how that feels," he admitted, and replaced the stone back to the spot he'd dug it from.

--------------

 

~adding but it's so late I should not be up @.@~

[Lemniscate]

"...it's hard, isn't it? Being wrapped up in a bunch of nonsense you never asked to be a part of? Especially when family's involved."

 

She continued to stare into the flickering flames as Ike spoke, chin resting on her crossed arms. The faint noise of stone clinking drew her eyes to Ike's hand, although her head remained motionless. He had pried a small chip of stone off the floor and was currently running his thumb over the surface as if he was preoccupied. Perhaps he was reminiscing on his own past, perhaps he wasn't. She made no move to disturb him and returned her eyes to the embers, shifting her elbows into a slightly more comfortable position. It was only when he spoke again that she lifted her head up and turned to face him, stretching her arms back to support her weight.

 

"I know how that feels."

 

"Yeah..."

 

After a moment of silence, she pushed herself into a standing position, doing a few stretches to loosen her sore muscles. There was more she could say, but for now she just wanted to sleep. Ike had plenty of other company anyway, including that strange lightning dragon. It had caught her eye for a moment while she was stretching, but it didn't seem too keen on interacting so she ignored it and turned back to Ike.

 

"If you'll excuse me, I'll head off to sleep now. We can continue this conversation in the morning if you'd like."

 

Now that she had gotten that out of the way, she headed towards one of the corners of the room on the side of the smaller staircase. As she unpinned her cape, she located two chinks in the walls from which she could hang her cape and use it as a privacy curtain of sorts. Her headband came off next, freeing her hair and allowing it to fall atop her pointed ears. The armor she wore was significantly more difficult to take off, but she managed it after a bit of a struggle. All of her belongings were placed on a nearby ledge when she was finished, leaving her in nothing more than a black blouse and leggings.

 

She felt strangely exposed and vulnerable without her armor, but at least she had placed the Yato within arms reach. Anyone who tried to sneak up on her in the middle of the night would be greeted by the flaming blade of her sword, something she didn't think anyone in the group wanted to risk. Years of living under the threat of ambush had made her a light sleeper and she felt relatively certain of her ability to detect assassins. With that reassuring thought in mind, she lay on the ground and attempted to get comfortable on the hard tile. It was definitely a big difference from the comfy bunks back home, but she wasn't about to complain.

 

The dancing flames of the Yato provided a small amount of ambient light as she closed her eyes, drifting off into sleep.

[Sugar-Free]

Removing the cork proved to be difficult when she couldn’t even see it.

 

She felt at the lip of the bottle until she found it, and she bore her teeth down into the circle until they found their mark in the woody sponginess. Alex cursed her nervous ticks—she’d picked the cork down to a nub, and she was having the hardest time not chipping away at it more in her haste.

 

“Hey hey, stop! Whatever you’re doing, don’t do it!”

 

What the hell? She didn’t recognize that voice at all. It was a girl’s voice, so it was possible it was the Corrin’s…but the tone and syntax was all wrong. It certainly wasn’t Tyrande, that was for sure…and everyone else was either a dude, a dragon or Link. She found her thoughts fading as the sound of frantic footfalls descended on her, and she whipped around, her free hand preparing to reach for her weapons, any of them.

 

“Let me see your hands, please. They’re cut, and you wouldn’t want an infection in them.”

 

Before she could, her hand was taken away from her. Another decision she wouldn’t have to make for herself. She didn’t know what was happening, but she was grateful that it was.

 

As the mystery-girl pulled away her sash and began wiping at her wounds—none too professionally, but at least the touch was gentle—she took the chance to look her over. Her garb was a strange, but pleasantly coordinated palette of blue, gold and white, interlaced with patterns of interweaving designs unlike that found in her own world. Not that that bothered or shocked or even impressed her; once you’d perused the Outrealms once, things fell into the homogeny of expectation. It hit her again that she’d never seen her before, neither entering the building nor trailing behind them at any time…so that meant either she had entered after the battle or had simply poofed in. She looked unarmed besides a knife in tow, but that hardly constituted any concern on her part.

 

In the midst of her fussing—and why was she doing that anyway? They didn’t know each other! Who helps random strangers anymore?—she dropped the bottle between her legs and directed it to roll behind her heel. To cover the noise, she cried out and feigned a loss of balance when she shifted to sitting on her feet. Unfortunately, that pushed her hand forward into the fabric, agitating the skin and wrenching a genuine yelp of pain from her. The image of her torn skin stretching and pooling with blood made her shiver; her own blood didn’t sicken her, but the sight of ravaged flesh made her queasy, even if she was merely thinking about it.

 

“What’re you doing all alone in a damp, smelly, stone building anyway? I guess you could ask me the same question, but I get the feeling that you’ve been here longer than me.”

 

Alex’s pitiful sniffling had ceased for the most part by now, waning to little catches in her breathing every once in awhile, but nothing she couldn’t control. Safe in the knowledge that her secret remained, she felt a bit better about answering this stranger’s questions. She wiped her face with the sleeve of the unused hand and sniffed.

 

“Well…y’see…it’s actually a funny story. A long one, if you’re up to hearing it…”

 

She didn’t know how she wouldn’t, seeing as she was now invariably involved with this maddening plot. Keeping it from her would just be cruel, so she quickly paraphrased the last two days—only two days! It felt like an entire lifetime…--for this newcomer. It was greatly embellished, with moments of drama interspersed with sound effects and hand motions for impact, but she tried to keep as truthful to her knowledge of events to the best of her ability. She was careful to skirt around why she’d descended to this floor, but it neither mattered nor concerned her. She’d have plenty of time to convince her she was a stark-raving lunatic without the added bonus of attempted suicide.

 

And maybe then she’ll realize the mistake she’s made.

 

Being approached with such kindness melted away the indomitable shell incasing her heart, but in the light of new emotion it only made her wary. She had dared so far already by chancing love; while friendships were typically short-lived, she didn’t enjoy the never-ending cycle of sweetness and bitter that encompassed them from beginning to end. To grow close only to say goodbye wasn’t Alex’s style, and even if it wasn’t compacted with the inevitability of her situation, she would avoid it any cost when possible.

 

 

But, as selfish as it made her, that didn’t make her any less wanting of it.

 

 

"...and 'cause of that, there's a relatively good chance that the reason your here is because of space-time dimensional shenanigans, courtesy of your friendly local psychopath cat-and-fox." She shrugged like it was no big deal. And really, was it even? People like her might be reduced to fits of crazy, and they'd all bleed every once in awhile and maybe someone could die, but they were the chosen few. The chosen few never died, did they? She'd already been convinced of it: a random human from nowhere had stopped her in the nick of time. If that wasn't prophetic intervention, nothing was.

 

Now that the first hand was getting closer to being less weepy, she looked over the other, the stain obscuring most of Grima's mark. Alex licked over the symbol and wiped it on her jacket, the blood joining the rest from her nosebleed the day prior. She pointed her thumb back at her and showed off her most genuine, dazzling smile possible.

 

 

"I'm Alexandria, but just 'Alex' is fine. I'm a Grandmaster from the far-off distant land of what I like to call 'Neo-Archanea'." She feigned a scoff and brushed her hair away from her shoulders with a flick.

 

"You've..prolly never heard of it."