#He shall live far away from be but at least he's there where he belongs

[leafn0t]

I don't have much to my name except that small wish

That Ed should have some kind of connection to Frankfurt

[rabbitsrants]

PROOF THAT SHINRAN IS ONE OF THE MOST BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN ROMANCES OF ALL TIME - PART 3

if you haven't already read the posts i've linked down below, please make sure to do so before you proceed, cause they're important for context. thank you so much in advance!

CLICK HERE FOR PART 1

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER

as i've already explained in my disclaimer, my ultimate goal with this masterlist is to prove how well written shinran is - it's to demonstrate that they're unquestionably each other's half and the heart of the dcmk universe.

people often minimize the importance that shinichi and ran have in each other's lives by labeling them as boring, predictable "childhood sweethearts" which couldn't be further from the truth.

so far we've established that

1) shinichi doesn't fall for ran gradually, which is what usually happens with dcmk childhood friends, he knows right away that ran's something special.

2) even though they share the same core values, their personalities are very different, which has a positive effect on them individually: ran gets shinichi to come out of his shell and contributes to his emotional growth, while shinichi grounds ran and helps her articulate her feelings.

now it's time to analyze the part i teased in part two already:

they share a soul

god, where do i even begin? this post is probably going to be ridiculously long but it's by far the most crucial part of my analysis, so please bear with me. cause as far as i'm concerned? this is the main reason why shinichi and ran belong together.

don't get me wrong, love at first sight is a beautiful concept and i deeply appreciate the fact that shinichi and ran complement each other, however, they aren't the only dcmk duo that brings out the best in each other.

what sets them apart from other dcmk dynamics in the most meaningful way is the undeniable fact that their hearts are one and the same. but what is that even supposed to mean? let's break it down, shall we?

their intuition

this segment of the break-down deserves its own post, because there are countless instances of shinichi and ran showcasing incredible instincts, but i'll try to keep it concise for now. both shin and ran arguably have a sixth sense. that's already fascinating on its own, but what i'm really trying to home in on is that their intuition offers them great insight into other people's souls. sometimes i get the impression they carry a compass that points at people and tells them who's trustworthy and who's not.

chapter 22

chapter 892

ran has so many reasons to doubt takeshi and shinichi has so many reasons to doubt amuro, but they instinctively know they can trust them. shinichi even feels safe enough to confront amuro, which is incredible, cause my boy takes a huge risk by directly questioning his allegiance.

idk about y'all but i think that's beautiful. it reminds me of an amazing quote from a famous philosopher:

their souls are pure. which is why they're able to recognize that quality in other people and each other.

their optimism

despite all the darkness that shinichi and ran face every single day, they have a really optimistic outlook on life. ngl, their unwavering positivity makes me extremely emotional.

chapter 252

shinichi gets shot by criminals and he's slowly bleeding to death. the detective boys feel like it's their fault that shin got hurt, they blame themselves and feel hopeless. my boy is in pain, he's fighting for his life, he's probably even scared, it'd be more than understandable if he saw their point and regretted the unfortunate situation they found themselves in. but he doesn't:

he chooses to look on the bright side. even in death.

which, fortunately, gets the detective boys out of their dark way of thinking. shin helps them understand that, yes, they're on a bumpy road, but at least it's leading somewhere.

chapter 780

shinichi gets a culprit to reveal he's from the kansai region by successfully provoking him with a fake accent, but shin doesn't just piss off the culprit, he also pisses off kazuha and heiji, so kazuha begins to wonder whether people from the kansai region are narrow-minded and ran's perspective is something i did NOT see coming:

HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE THIS ADORABLE AND WISE?!

just like shinichi ran's able to offer kazuha a surprisingly positive outlook on her concerns, which genuinely makes her feel better.

there are many instances of their unshakable optimism and the effect it has on others, it's really beautiful to examine.

i recommend y'all look into it on your own, cause in this part of my masterlist i merely have the space to touch on shared traits like their great intuition and firm optimism, but now it's time to get into the biggest and most important portion of this analysis!

their idealism

i hope y'all read the disclaimer i've linked at the beginning! if you haven't, i urge you to read it before you continue with this post!

shinrans shared idealism is something i've already mentioned in part two of my masterlist, but there's so much more to say about it:

i'd argue that it's the main thing that connects them. not to shade my own children, but they value justice and human life so much, for most people, including me, it sometimes borders on stupidity.

but that's the thing, shinichi kudo and ran mouri aren't most people.

cause most dcmk characters 1) don't initially share their virtues and 2) question their admittedly heroic but also terribly reckless actions, whereas shinichi and ran support and admire each other because of it. because they're the same.

i'm about to give a few examples of shinichi and ran being the most idealistic characters in the manga and for the purpose of full context, i have to showcase the contrast between shinran's morals and the values of other characters. i appreciate and care about every single character who's brought up in the next part of my essay, so don't take this post as an invitation for hostility towards them, that's not my goal, okay? okay. let's proceed.

a) sense of justice and heroism

chapter 239-240

shinichi impulsively investigates the black organization. haibara repeatedly reminds him that he's being reckless and putting himself in danger, she even mocks his strong sense of justice and initially refuses to join his investigation because she's smart and values self preservation. haibara ends up joining him after all, but keeps urging him to drop his investigation and leave with her.

i don't blame her one bit for her approach to the situation... truth be told, her reaction makes a lot more sense to me than shinichi's 😂 but that's because i share her pragmatism.

at this point in the manga shinichi and haibara have zero support. neither the fbi, nor the cia is helping them. it's incredibly dangerous for them to go after the black organization completely alone and it's not just unsafe for them individually either, it's risky for everyone they care about. their exposure would endanger a lot of people, including agasa, ran, kogoro, the detective boys, etc...

and safety concerns aside, why would she care about justice in that situation anyway? how could she, a teen who's trapped in a child's body, possibly hold the black organization accountable without any help?

so yeah, i strongly believe that if you look at the situation logically, haibara's point of view makes a lot more sense than shinichi's and it's fair of her to choose safety over justice, especially when the latter seems so impossible achieve.

too bad that shinichi doesn't give a flying fuck about things like common sense or self preservation. he's completely driven by idealism, it's what defines him as a person, in more ways than one. the only person in the dcmk universe who accurately mirrors his righteousness is ran mouri and it expresses itself through countless parallels that completely contrast haibara's position in chapter 239-240

chapter 44

shinichi pretty much lashes out at the murderer for personal reasons which i dive into here. on top of that, he's passionately opposed to the culprit's idea of using justice as a reason for murder and guess what? ran unsurprisingly feels the same way:

chapter 313

the obvious observation here is that their speeches are remarkably alike, but what i find even more fascinating is the fact that the killers react so similarly. shinran's sense of justice is so powerful, it doesn't just guide their own actions, it even moves morally corrupt people and holds them accountable.

furthermore, the concept of personal safety is completely lost on both shinichi and ran lol.

they constantly risk their lives for other people, including haibara, who, as we already established, initially disregards heroism.

chapter 289

chapter 434

AHHHHH!!! THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME

anyway, i'm not trying to undermine the beauty and complexity of haibara's character, she's incredibly well written and i think it's important to emphasize that she's actually attempting to sacrifice herself in both of these chapters.

i actually really appreciate the fact that haibara is this complicated person with a rough background who slowly figures out her values with the help of her friends, imo it gives her layers.

i'm simply pointing out that upon her initial introduction her virtues instinctively differ from shinran's, it takes her some time to grow into the same kind of heroism that shinichi and ran display from the get-go. because they inspire her. but i'll go over that in a minute.

b) they value human life

one of shinichi's main attributes has always been his profound interest in human life. it's a quality that i never questioned until recently because i always figured it was due to his work as a detective.

but the more i think about it, the less it works as an explanation because we know a lot of detectives in the dcmk universe who don't share his interest in protecting people at all costs.

interestingly enough, there is a character who shares his passion but it's not someone who professionally deals with human life - it's just a compassionate, tenderhearted girl who instinctively wants to keep others safe no matter what.

chapter 1026

ran saves a murderer from suicide

which reminds me of shinichi attempting to do the same in another chapter:

chapter 67

he tries so hard... but unlike ran he ultimately fails.

and who's there to comfort him? who's the only person in the whole world who naturally understands his sorrow, who truly knows how valuable human life is and wants to protect it just as much as he does? ran. of course it's ran.

and it will always be ran.

having said that, analyzing shinran's idealism is beyond fascinating to me because i rarely share their virtues or courage. my values are more aligned with the rest of the dcmk universe:

chapter 153

shinichi notices that a culprit is about to kill herself and gets in the way of her plans. heiji's response resonates with me a lot.

CAUSE YEAH, what's the point of keeping someone alive against their will? isn't that infinitely crueler than just letting them die? maybe.

but shinichi and ran don't give a fuck lol. they don't stop the murderers suicide attempts because they're heartless though. it's the opposite, really.

as we already established, both shinichi and ran are optimists at heart, so they believe or least hope that people can always better themselves. i think that's the main reason why the interfere.

besides, shinichi and ran simply care too much about justice - they need culprits to be held accountable and they respect human life too much to allow suicide.

again, do i share their passionate interest in human life? LOL, hell no. i think very few people are capable of being that idealistic. most people, including me, value innocent life but shinichi and ran? they value life regardless of innocence and on top of that, they even value the lives of people who ARE ACTIVELY TRYING TO KILL THEM

chapter 773

a man is threatening to bomb the detective agency, he could kill ran, kogoro and sera within SECONDS and what does my girl ran do? yeah, she saves his life, LOL!

she's already in immense danger and she's seconds away from being saved, but she goes out of her way and puts herself even more at risk, just to save a guy who's threatening her life. WHY?!

because that's just who she is.

understandably, sera is baffled. she doesn't get it.

which makes sense, cause, again, there's only one character in the entire manga who truly understands ran and passionately agrees with her principles and that's shinichi kudo:

their idealism never wavers. it's perplexing for characters like haibra, heiji, sera and even for me as a reader. it's also extremely inspiring though. which brings me to my next point!

c) they inspire others

chapter 239

remember how haibara initially refuses to join shinichi during his investigation? guess what changes her mind...

even though haibara mocks shinichi's idealism and admittedly doesn't understand it in the beginning, it does get her thinking.

she grows up under terrible circumstances which force her to prioritize her safety over human life, but after watching shinichi for a while, she comes to the realization that she no longer has to live that way.

his unshakable idealism fascinates and encourages her, she's reminded that she has choices now and suddenly she finds herself wanting to do better.

but shinichi isn't the only person who helps her evolve in a pretty significant way:

chapter 313

ran's speech about justice and courage deeply moves haibara in the same way it affects the culprit.

her speech doesn't just give haibra the courage to finally introduce herself to ran after months of avoiding her (for reasons i'll get into in part four of my masterlist) i'd argue it also contributes to her finally facing the black organization in chapter 434

while shinichi helps haibara understand that she has choices now and urges her not to run from her fate, ran motivates haibara to be courageous and face her fate. it's actually incredible how much they help haibara, just by being themselves.

chapter 398-400

check out the blog of my wonderful friend aracaeli who recently brought attention to an extremely underrated chapter which emphasizes that ran doesn't just affect characters like haibara, she even inspires her other half shinichi, which is a remarkable accomplishment, considering their morals are generally completely aligned.

ran's idealism knows no bounds. how could it not move people? especially someone like haibara who's just starting to get familiar with the concept of friendship.

in this chapter ran's idealism inspires countless people (shinichi, haibara, the detective boys, the murderer) it says so much about her character and it's such a touching reading experience.

chapter 153

remember how heiji understandably regrets saving the murderer from suicide after seeing her devastating reaction? shinichi knows exactly what to say:

AGAIN, personally, i don't even blame heiji for his initial views. frankly, i agree with them! but it's really hard not to be affected by shinichi's powerful words. i can see how they could completely change the mindset of a passionate detective like heiji. and they do.

chapter 188

to the point that heiji's willing to risk his life because of them...

chapter 774

even sera, who can be a bit morally corrupt at times, is impressed with ran's strong virtues:

but that's to be expected, considering that shinichi and ran even had an impact on vermouth who's an established, ruthless serial killer.

i know, i already extensively talked about the new york case in part two, but it's such an important chapter for shinran that i feel the need to bring it up again, especially if it's going to continue the wonderful discourse i've been having about it with amazing bloggers like sakublogs who i urge you to check out!

chapter 353

this case is so, so special to me because it fundamentally captures the essence of shinran.

vermouth is about to take ran's life but the railing she is leaning on breaks and she's about fall to her impending doom... until ran intuitively grabs her arm and tries to save her:

you'd think that shinichi would urge ran to let go, cause that's what any rational person would do, right? but he doesn't. instead he assists ran. again, WHY?

because... they can't fucking help themselves. because THAT'S JUST WHO THEY ARE.

shinichi and ran are completely led by their intuition, optimism and idealism. nobody values justice, courage and human life the way do, it's in their bones and hearts, it's not something they grow into, it's in their nature.

their spiritual connection is their most defining quality as a couple and it's the reason why i'm convinced that shinran is gosho's best written ship and beyond that, one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time.

it's difficult to do shinran justice in condensed essays like this, but i hope i was able to illustrate their amazing personalities and offer some insight into their captivating bond.

it's why i've been closely following their story since my early childhood. they have the same effect on me they have on other dcmk characters. shinichi and ran inspire me, they touch my soul and restore my faith in people. they're not just a cute couple - they're a symbol of hope.

vermouth puts it best:

visit the shinran library for more

[what-have-i-unleashed]

8 Cadaver

DPR IAN LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!

this is gonna be interesting for sure :]

8. limbo - dpr ian

I left my heart down in the basement Where all the Ravens take their turns Picking at what's left of me

PROMPT: CADAVER

(cw: near death experience)

killer’s world is a jagged haze of familiar pain. the pit cradles him like an open grave, the damp earth pressing cold against his broken body, faintly smelling of buttercups. this isn’t the worst way to die, he supposes. his vision blurs, the edges smudged with black. from far away, he could hear unhurried footsteps – two pairs – crunching on the grass, accompanied by a whispered conversation.

“nightmare really left him like this, huh?” a familiar voice, low and raspy, with some hints of uneasiness slid into it.

“he does that,” another voice replies, almost gravelly and sprinkled with some amusement. “always leaves the trash for someone else to clean up. guess that’s us today.”

a brief silence. and then the first voice speaks up again, which now killer remembers belongs to murder. “you think he’s actually dead?”

the other voice, which must be horror, scoffs. “looks dead. smells dead. as far as i’m concerned – he’s done.”

killer wants to laugh. of course they’re here – who else would it be? he ignores the blooming pain in his chest and focuses on the conversation, letting it tether him to the moment.

“welp, we should check his body for anything useful,” horror suggests, almost too cheerfully.

“you mean loot his body?” murder echoes, clearly affronted. “he’s not some random body, horror.”

“no, of course not,” horror scoffs. a thumping sound suggests that he’s jumped into the shallow pit, walking closer to inspect killer’s body. “he’s our idiot. that means we got first dibs.” his tone turns lighter, as if teasing. “i mean… if you’re feeling sentimental, we can bury him afterwards. say some nice farewell words. give him some flowers. maybe cry a little.”

“i don’t cry.”

“sure you don’t.”

killer can feel their shadows looming over him, their murmured bicker getting louder now. his body may be a lost cause, but at least his vocal cords still work. when horror lightly taps his cheek, he can’t help but hiss.

“i… can still hear you… assholes…”

the silence is immediate, almost comical.

“shit,” horror breathes out.

right away, murder kneels besides killer, turning his head sideways. easy to assume he’s dead after all, with no apparent soul to be seen. but the black liquid from his eye sockets drip steadily, hissing when it hits the ground.

“well, well,” murder mutters, his hands shaking only imperceptibly. “seems like the corpse lived.”

“not… dead yet,” killer says, coughing. “can’t say… the same… for my patience though…”

horror snorts, but the grin on his face looks uneasy. “yeah, you look great, killer. real picture of health there.”

“not my fault… your face… is the… first thing i saw…” killer attempts a grin, but it’s a shaky one. “don’t worry… can’t die yet… who else gonna… look after you then…”

murder lets out a wet laugh. “yeah, that’s the spirit. let’s go home, shall we?”

home. that word sounds foreign to killer, but he can’t find it in himself to contradict murder for now. the other two argue with each other about how to carry him out of the pit, and killer tunes them out, just in time to suddenly find himself on horror’s back, as murder trails behind him, eyes focused on his battered body.

“thanks for… that shitty eulogy… by the way…” killer says between broken gasps of air. “if you drop me… i’m gonna haunt… your bony fuckfaces…”

“no one’s afraid of you,” murder says, a thread of relieved amusement in his voice.

“yeah,” horror chimes in. “you’d better survive this, or else.”

killer doesn’t reply to that, just closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth from horror’s body. it feels good not to be left behind for the first time in his life.

[myworld-collapsing]

just noticed cinna is the girlie i talk about the least of the 3 . . forgive me everyone . . i shall share some info i made about her just now . .

cinna is a very . . pessimistic individual to say the least .

when she first arrived at the garden, she was extremely detached and disassociated from her classmates and surroundings, and often avoided everyone at all costs possible .

the best you could at least see of her, would be her either just sitting silently under a tree, or her aimlessly trailing away to wherever .

she’s introverted and timid, negative, shy, and always anxious and stressed about something, whether it be about someone or something . this heightened a lot when she was around others . ( and still does now sometimes ) when she deems she can’t deal with something, she shuts down entirely .

she can also go on morbid rambles about disturbing topics if she feels comfortable enough with you : D !

she also has lapses of time where she can just be straight up cruel and inconsiderate of others, taking the sad reality of things and stretching it, surrounding someone with it until it swallows them up .

all of these traits mainly come from her “ home “ life . although she is the oldest of cas’s children, she was put to sale quite later then her siblings, and was left as the last one left of her father’s “ litters “ .

sonii gave her to a pet human modifier shortly after this as a gift of a new “ lab rat “ . cinna’s guardian is named guardian arcaro by the way .

arcaro is a bit like urak, but more . . uncaring for his “ pets “ ? ( who he deems as “ lab rats “ instead ) he often experiments carelessly with them, so much that it’d probably be assumed he doesn’t even know the limit of what a human can take .

cinna is deemed one of the more fortunate pets of arcaro, “ only “ having a vast amount of trauma emotionally and physically from being cruelly experimented since she was a child so far, while most of her other less fortunate siblings, ended up tortured physically for the most part before their untimely deaths .

because of this as well, she does not view herself as human, but more as a underserving burden, who should have never been born . her worldview is muddled and cold . why are we here if not only to suffer ?

this all starts to change when she meets yuna, who through time brightens her world, and gives her a reason and want to live, to keep going and become a better person . although i won’t ramble on that too much though since this post is already pretty long,

cinna does become a better person with yuna around her now ! ! she becomes much more involved with her classmates, and is overall viewed as a shy and quaint, sometimes a bit creepy but cute girl !

though, for her thoughts on cas ( which i really haven’t mentioned until now im so sorry blue i honestly thought you didn’t care 😭 ), in very short and simplified terms, she naively thought that he could save her ( when she was both younger and started being experimented on ) at first, but now honestly doesnt care for him in the slightest .

nothing like bottling up your feelings of betrayal and sadness until they’re gone ( they not they’re just lodged even deeper into you now ) am i right ?

( also to add to the angst she does view her younger self as a “ stupid and immature little girl . “ )

( yuna belongs to @starry-skiez, and cas belongs to @bluemoonscape ! by the way blue, thoughts on my depressed little cinnamonroll : 3 ? )

[primamchorus]

Holidays of Eos :: Fabula Finis et Nova

Another year has come and gone, and it is a time of reflection of the year's story one has walked for themselves. Usually, at any rate. Instead of looking behind, the Crown Prince takes it upon himself to ask those in line to be his royal council once the 114th ascends their aspirations for the new year.

Word Count: 5,354

FFXV: Reimagined Table of Contents

Next ->

M.E. 754, December 31st

Live music from a small orchestra filled the ballroom with largely upbeat strings that allowed for those who wanted to dance to do so. This was a rather fancy event, after all. Lingering decorations from Frostbearer's Blessing not even a week prior had been repurposed into decorations to help bring in the new year. A trifling task, it seemed, for the crew in charge of setting up or changing the festive decor.

"Stuffy…" Noctis quietly groaned, tugging at the tie at his neck to loosen it. His hair was still his signature bedhead of a mess, only slightly put together in the front.

"And yet you refuse to take time to head outside for some fresh air," Ignis said, his hands at rest behind his back. He glanced in the prince’s direction. "Surely you would at least care to watch the fireworks happening here in the next hour?"

"Too cold outside," Noctis replied with a huff.

Ignis resisted the urge to bring his index finger and thumb to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation for the response. Instead, he exhaled slowly through his nose and counted to three in his mind. "Perhaps there is some compromise, then?"

"Prim around?"

"You will not abuse her control over magic to keep you warm," Ignis scolded. He pointed his gaze forward, looking out toward those in attendance to the Fabula Nova gala. He then added, "Nor shall you abuse mine."

Noctis tutted, folding his arms over his chest semi-indignantly.

"You could always lose the jacket," came the voice of Gladiolus. The Shield had been standing close by, sipping away at a flute of champagne.

"And then what?" The indignation was clear in Noctis' tone. "Nowhere to put it."

"Then stay uncomfortable." Gladio shrugged, rolling the flute in his hand before downing the rest of the champagne within.

"Anyone see Prompto?" Noctis ignored Gladio's 'suggestion'.

"With the twins, last I recalled seeing him." Ignis adjusted his posture.

"And where are they?"

Ignis swept an arm to the side, looking in that direction. He had motioned toward the exit that led to the rest of the rooftop belonging to the Caelum Via. Beyond the windows, the white hair of both Primam and Tandem was unmistakable. Not far from them was Prompto's golden hair, nearly just as striking as the twins' own. Especially in comparison to the rest of the noble families.

"Traitor…" Noctis spat, half joking. Was he referring to the twins? Maybe he was referring to Prompto? Perhaps he was referring to all of them. After all, all three of them had been at his side at school, the four of them nigh inseparable.

"Still got us," Gladiolus chuckled, throwing an arm around Noctis' shoulders. He had placed the emptied flute down on a nearby table, and he used his now free hand to ruffle Noctis' hair.

"Cut it out!" Noctis ducked down and brought a hand up to shove away Gladio's arms. He then brought his hands up to straighten out his bangs. Another huff left him once he tided himself, and he then returned his arms to their folded position over his chest. Looking back out the windows, he watched as it looked like Primam brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed — even Tandem looked like he was enjoying himself while Prompto talked with a big smile on his face.

"They look like they're having fun at least…" Noctis commented.

"You could go out there with them if you weren't being such a wuss about how cold it'll be when you go outside," Gladio teased. A smirk had settled upon his lips, and his hands were placed upon his hips. "Unless you're more worried about interrupting."

"As if…" Noctis scoffed. He adjusted his suit, a slight furrow forming between his brow. Still, part of him was a little annoyed — perhaps with himself, perhaps with the other three — that they were not all together as the events pressed on. Shrugging at himself after a moment, Noctis let out a sigh, doing his best to make sure it was not too obvious there was some annoyance there. "There's still plenty of time tonight to catch up with everyone else, I guess."

"A sound idea. The other nobles of the 114th should be glad to have their prince and future king approach them," Ignis concurred, bringing a hand up to adjust his glasses briefly. He had also said this to make somewhat of a point to Noctis. As it stood, Noctis had spent much of his youth and years going to public school in the company of his two future Arms, and the commoner friend they had made. Many of the other nobles sometimes wondered if their prince would ever spare such time for them on many occasions… Mollis most of all, if Ignis remembered correctly.

By the time Ignis thought to tell Noctis, the prince had already started in the direction of a woman. The woman in question was a member of House Vox — the current Head of House and Ears of the King: Vera Vox. She was, as ever, well put together; not a hair was out of place as her obsidian locks were pinned back into an elegant bun that was nestled low at the base of her head. Her dress was fetching; blue that faded into white, its skirt gradually flaring into ruffles. A giant smile was spread upon her face as she interacted with guests to the gala, though her bright green eyes flashed in the prince's direction before he fully approached.

"Noctis!" Vera placed a hand upon one of the women's own and excused herself before she grabbed her dress and hiked it up slightly to hurry toward Noctis. The display left the other women giggling among themselves as they watched Vera meet with the prince.

The more casual greeting was appreciated than anyone calling Noctis 'Highness' or 'Prince Noctis', however. Not that he had a mind to speak up on this fact. Not tonight, at any rate.

"I didn't mean to pull you away from your company…" Noctis remarked. His eyes flicked in the direction of the women, now whispering among themselves — gossiping, no doubt. He returned his attention to his father's Ears. "Just wanted to see how you were doing for the night, and…I suppose ask about if you have anything in mind you wanted to wish for when Fabula Nova strikes?"

Vera brought a gloved hand to her chin, thinking about the question. "My wish for Fabula Nova?" Her expression became somewhat sheepish as she cast her gaze to the side. "I mean…it would be nice if Aestus could come back home. But wishing for someone else's Fabula Nova isn't really in the spirit, is it…? So I suppose my Fabula Nova this next year would be to simply maintain everything as he would — to really grow into my role as Ears of the King with the groundwork he's laid out before me."

There was a moment where Noctis considered anything his father might have said about Vera. If nothing was said, usually that was good news for the most part. It, at the very least, meant that the king had no qualms with the staff and nobles that served him. Plus, from Noctis' own experiences with Vera, she was always good about her duties — smart, even if she sometimes seemed to be in a different world altogether at times. Living up to Aestus' more serious and driven composure that allowed him to meet his tasks with unflagging composure might have been a tall order.

"I'm sure Aestus would at least be proud of everything you've accomplished so far," Noctis replied, doing his best to have been reassuring. "I know I appreciate everything you've done for my dad and me. You and Ignis really make a good team."

"Aw, thanks, Noct!" Vera cooed, coming over and in for a hug. The gesture made Noctis bite back a noise of surprise that got lost in his throat, though he awkwardly hugged her back in turn. "Just know that if you ever need anything from House Vox, I will always be available. After all, my Ears for the king."

"Not king yet."

Vera reached over with both her gloved hands and pressed them against Noctis' cheeks. "'Yet'. Even still, my service is ever yours when it's needed."

Unlike with Gladio, Noctis tolerated Vera's hands upon his cheeks, even if his brow furrowed ever slightly once more. When she let go of him, he watched as she took a step back.

"I assume you're making the rounds." Vera's eyes flicked in Ignis' direction momentarily. The future Hand and Shield were still standing close to one another a good several yards away.

So she had heard their brief discussion — even from all the way over here. Why would that have been surprising? She was probably listening to more than she let on right now with the help of some magic.

Clearing her throat, Vera smiled pleasantly at Noctis and gave a low, elegant curtsy to him. "I shall take your time no longer, Highness. May your Fabula Nova be accomplished this upcoming year."

"… Yeah," Noctis replied. "You, too."

Turning, Noctis scanned the dance hall, a silent sigh falling from his nostrils. He was caught off guard when he felt his hand taken up. Someone had taken advantage of his blind spot and was gently pulling him to join them on the dance floor. Noctis had half a mind to pull away, though when his eyes met Mollis', he hesitated.

Mollis had always been one of the sweetest members of the 114th whenever they had the opportunity to spend time together. Even now, her expression was bright — damn near bright as Prompto's usually was. Disappointing that face would have made Noctis feel bad…if only because he knew the brunt of disappointment would come from the other members of the 114th generation if they found out Mollis had been made any modicum of sad.

"Dance with me, Noct!" Mollis urged, shaking his hand gently to emphasize her request.

"I…don't dance—" Noctis hesitated on his response.

Mollis was a little more casual about how she dressed. She was still dressed nice, certainly…but she definitely had something much more her speed. A long-sleeve white dress with a collar that went up to her neck, its skirt falling just slightly below her knees. There was a sash at her midsection to give more texture and interest to the dress, but overall, it was rather plain.

"Mm, you are looking a little flush…" Mollis observed, letting go of Noctis' hand to scrutinize him. "You didn't show up sick, did you? Should have seen Ros if you are."

"Save me the lecture; I'm not sick…" Again, Noctis found hesitation in wanting to pursue the conversation fully. Not because there was discomfort in speaking to Mollis, nor was there anything he had against her. Speaking was just hard sometimes.

Clearing his throat, he finally asked nearly the same thing he asked Vera: "Do you know what you're wishing for when Fabula Nova hits?"

Mollis' expression brightened again. "Of course! My Fabula Nova is to keep the beauty of everything and everyone I love shining!"

Noctis' brow quirked, and the curl of his lip could not be helped. Amusement had found its way onto his face. What did Mollis even mean by that?

He supposed it mattered little if he understood it, ultimately… What mattered was that Mollis understood what she was wishing for and striving toward. That really was all that mattered when it came to one's wish for Fabula Nova.

Mollis took up Noctis' hand again, shaking him a little more insistently — just a little. She made no comment, just looked at him with a smile. He supposed the Crown Prince should have taken the dance floor…but he really did not want to do so. He always felt like dance lessons went poorly. Mollis surely would have been a better fit for someone like Ignis or Ros than Noctis himself.

Noctis expelled a sigh of defeat and followed Mollis out onto the dance floor. He could feel the jubilation in Mollis as she very nearly skipped out, pulling him along with her. He humored her, if anything, following more her lead rather than leading in the dance himself.

She was a good sport about everything at least… Moments where Noctis seemed to have stumbled or at least missed a dance beat were gently laughed off as Mollis improvised steps to keep their dance going as smoothly as possible. At the very least it seemed like some of Noctis' dance lessons paid off…

Something, however, caught Noctis' eye in the middle of their dance that he halted both he and Mollis for.

"Sorry…" Noctis uttered, letting go of Mollis. Before he turned to leave, he quickly said, "I hope your Fabula Nova wish comes true."

"And to you, too!" Mollis chirped. She waved at him before she turned around and quickly went to find someone else to come and dance with her.

Noctis quickly maneuvered his way through some of the other guests and visitors that were taking up the floor. He made meager attempts at soft apologies to some of the people he ended up disturbing. However, he finally made it to Cor, who looked as if he was ready to leave alongside a woman — his sister, Cera — and a girl who looked to have been in her tweens and ready to have fallen asleep. That must have been Cor's niece, Aura.

"Cor!" Noctis called out, halting all who were of the Leonis family. Cor and Cera turned to face him, whereas the sleepy-looking Aura stuck close to her mother, eyes somewhat pointed downward at the floor. Noctis slowed his gait to a stop before them and glanced between them all. "Leaving already?"

"Just Aura and I," Cera replied, bringing a hand around Aura's shoulders to keep her upright and from wobbling too much from being tired.

"I was going to walk them to the chaperoned vehicle," Cor added. He seemed ever mindful and protective over his family — what of it he had left. However, the Valor addressed Noctis fully: "Is there anything I might do for you, Highness?"

"N-Nah…" Noctis started, bringing a hand up in a half-shrug motion. "I just wanted to see you off before you headed out, that's all. That, and wish you all a good Fabula Nova, or whatever."

"You'll be able to see more of me over the course of the night…" Cor replied. He looked back toward his sister before looking back at Noctis. With a slight bow, Cor then went on to say, "If that will be all for now, Highness, I'd like to see Cera and Aura both safely down to the valet."

"Yeah, of course. Have a good night," Noctis said in response, waving toward Cera and Aura. "Get home safe."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Cera replied. She gently shook Aura and got both of them turned around. Before they started walking to leave, Cera wished Noctis a good rest of the evening. Noctis waved them off, watching after them for a time before he sighed and then looked back around the event.

Really, anyone who was someone was at the event. There were plenty of CEOs and even other celebrities at the event, not that Noctis has a mind to interact with some of them. CEOs were often attempting to make deals or talk business with Regis. Only sometimes, Noctis would get approached — something about having a younger, 'fresher' take on marketing or advertising. Sometimes it would be to run ideas past him; would someone his age be interested in such things. Glowing reviews and endorsement from the prince, of all people, would have been a good look, or something…

Who had time for such things, honestly?

"Peeled yourself off the wall?" The voice was almost unmistakable. Almost. Had it not carried a blasé kind of deadpan tone to it, Noctis could have easily mistook the voice for Vera's. Of course, the tone and inflection made it clearer that it was the voice of Lyra, the third born to House Vox.

Looking to the side, Noctis was only expecting Lyra, though the presence of Ros had nearly surprised him. Both of them were dressed nicely — which was more of a surprise when it came to Lyra than Ros. At least Ros, as far as Noctis knew of his cousin, was always generally well put together. Lyra's green and white dress that fell nearly down to the floor did well to complement Ros' own white suit with red accents. If anything, it at least made it look like they coordinated their attire.

… Did they?

Clearing his throat slightly, Noctis replied in kind: "I see you've done the same. Both of you."

"Ros wouldn't let me stay a pretty little vine against the wall," Lyra said, rolling her eyes. "But perhaps my Fabula Nova wish of being able to stay a wallflower this upcoming year will come true. It's not a particularly hard task to achieve."

Lyra paused, tapping the tip of a folded fan against her chin. "Well… It wouldn't be hard if I didn't have someone annoying me to…'branch' out…"

Noctis was vaguely aware of the bond that Lyra and Ros had. As far as he knew, the two were perhaps some of the closest of the 114th besides himself with the Arms, Hand, and Shield. So while it may have seemed like there was some animosity there, Noctis understood that most of that just maybe stemmed from his perception of Lyra's (and even Ros') delivery when speaking.

"There are better places to be or sleep than my office in the Viridis Medical Center," Ros mentioned.

"And here I was thinking you enjoyed my company." Lyra let out an exaggerated sigh. She then looked at Noctis and reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Fabula Finis, Noct. Was the year everything you hoped it'd be?"

"Can't complain… You?"

"I have plenty of petty complaints," Lyra revealed with a slight shrug to her shoulders.

"Do you remember them all?" Noctis scoffed with some level of amusement at the idea of remembering a myriad of tiny things that built up over time.

"Oh, sure… Like how I didn't get to sleep in for a good number of days. How Vera took my mascara and then didn't get me a new one. Can't forget how Ros took it upon himself to lock me out of his office every few weeks." Lyra extended the folding fan and waved it at herself intermittently. It seemed she was getting a little toasty herself. "Did you also know I went down into the Vox estate kitchen yesterday, and there was a rotting orange in the fruit bowl? No one thought to replace it or at least toss it out?"

She was right. They were petty complaints. But Noctis was sure, at this point, that Lyra made a habit of making mountains out of mole hills. Whether or not they were genuine complaints was something else altogether.

At least he could relate with not being allowed to sleep in.

"Well…any of those inconveniences you wanna address for Fabula Nova, then?" Noctis asked. He noticed the strained sigh that fell from Ros when his name was mentioned.

"Oh, I solved one of them already. I'm not going to say which…" Lyra smirked to herself. "But, I do suppose one of the things I could do is keep my makeup in my room versus the shared bathroom."

"I already noticed when one of my keys went missing and then miraculously came back by the end of the day when I wasn't working in the medical center…" Ros sighed. He ran a hand through his brown locks. "If having an extra key to my office is something that brings you some modicum of comfort, fine, whatever… It's not like anything truly important is kept in there at any rate…"

"You two are unbearable together," Noctis said with a groan to his voice. A part of him was a tiny bit jealous that both Ros and Lyra seemed to have a pretty amicable relationship that allowed them to bicker and tease each other relentlessly. It was hard to imagine that either of them would have tolerated each other's company otherwise. Both of them were prickly and unpleasant in their own ways from time to time — Ros less so than Lyra.

Shaking his head, Noctis then asked the question: "So, do you guys at least have your wish for Fabula Nova figured out? Besides wanting to stay a wallflower for Lyra, that is…"

Lyra looked at Ros, who only seemed to shrug in response to her somewhat expectant look. She then huffed and went on to say, "I have no prospects… I'm simply content to just go with the flow. Seems to me that's what life wants me to do anyway…so why fight it?"

Reaching over, Lyra then pat Ros on the shoulder. "Your turn."

Flicking his eyes toward her, Ros bit back another sigh. Bringing his hands to rest within his pockets, he shrugged slightly with the momentary bob of his head as he considered his overall response. "I don't necessarily have anything planned out myself. Ideally, I'd like to devote more time into making sure my healing magic is in top form for the year. Granted, wishing for that means, in a way, hoping more people to use such abilities on come through the medical center's doors. Double-edged sword, unfortunately."

"Could always see about expanding your efforts toward injured animals if you come across any…" Noctis replied. He had a soft spot for animals ever since he had come back from Tenebrae and getting to hang out with Umbra and Pryna. More now that they were his means of communication with Lunafreya.

"That is an idea, I suppose. Hm…" Ros hummed in thought to the suggestion. "We'll see what happens, then."

"Hope it works out." Noctis adjusted his jacket and looked back toward the exit of the rooftop hall. It was hard to tell who was outside at this point with all the other bodies still in the room. He wondered if the trio of the Chorus twins and Prompto were still out there, goofing off — having fun without him.

Noctis forced himself to look back at Ros and Lyra. He lifted a hand in preparation to excuse himself. "You two take care."

Were any of the 114th other people, Noctis may have found it within himself to leave without saying a word. Of course…he had done just that with Ignis and Gladiolus. Though it felt different with those two. It felt safer to ask forgiveness than permission in a lot of ways. Besides, he knew he could return to them and chat like no time had passed for the most part. The other members of the 114th? Well…sometimes they just felt like distant cousins — and that was nothing to say of Ros who actually was his cousin.

Briskly making his way through the hall, Noctis mentally prepared himself for exiting out onto the rest of the roof. Cold greeted him with that icy embrace, and it was enough to make Noctis scrunch his face briefly as he pulled his suit jacket a little more snugly against himself to savor the lingering warmth of it.

Thankfully for Noctis, it seemed Primam, Prompto, and Tandem were all still in the same place he saw them prior.

Prompto was the first to notice from his peripheral vision. He turned his head away from speaking with the twins and lifted a hand in greeting. "Noct! Hey! Finally decided to come on out and see us, huh?"

"What can I say? Couldn't have you three having too much fun without me." A smirk found its way onto Noctis' lips. He gave a halfhearted wave in greeting to his school troupe the moment all of them had their eyes on him. They really looked a far cry from how they normally did, dressed all fancy for the gala.

It would have been hard to believe that Primam was comfortable — her blue and silver dress left her collar and shoulders bare — though Noctis had been aware that Primam's unusual manifestation of magic dulled her senses to the shifts in temperature. It was a troublesome circumstance, especially since she was not immune to extreme temperatures, merely resistant to the influence. However, Noctis did not dare comment on it. He was sure her brother or even Prompto expressed some form of worry already. And an event like this? She probably heard enough from those she interacted with.

Tandem and Prompto looked to have been dressed sharp themselves, and unlike Primam, looked warmer at a distance. Though with the way Prompto's ears had that rosy hue to them, perhaps he was a little colder than he was willing to admit. Regardless, Tandem's dark green suit with black accents contrasted against the black suit Prompto had that had red accents. The one other thing that Noctis noticed was the small coeurl pin that adorned one of Tandem's lapels.

"A few more minutes before Fabula Finis becomes Fabula Nova," Tandem commented. When Noctis looked at him, he noticed that Tandem's gaze had gone out toward one of the taller buildings in the distance. It had the time on it, and like every year before this one, it started the countdown to Fabula Nova when ten seconds were left.

"That time already?" Noctis held back his surprise. From the time Ignis said that there was an hour left til now…it just felt like time had gone by so fast.

"I'm just glad you're not sleeping through it again this year," Primam said with a gentle giggle. Her laughter clouded into steam in the chilled air.

"Sleep through it once and you never hear the end of it…" Noctis shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. He supposed he had gotten his hopes up after no one else seemed to have brought it up. Really, it had just been a matter of time.

"Oh, it'll come up again. For a different event. Like when you took a nap and nearly slept through our birthday celebration," Tandem teased with a grin.

"Or how about the time he slept through Founder's Day? We were all supposed to go out and check out all the stalls together!" Prompto chimed in.

Tutting sharply, Noctis looked between the three of them in minor disbelief. All three of them? Really?

"Keep it up, and I'll schedule a nap for every important date to you guys," Noctis replied in half-jest.

"You won't need a schedule knowing you," Prompto replied with a chuckle.

"Tch, whatever…" Noctis folded his arms over his chest and pointed his gaze away from them. He had no witty retort to shoot back with. Though, the question may as well have been asked; Noctis had already asked everyone else: "You guys figure out what your Fabula Nova wish is already? And don't tell me it's to help 'keep me awake'."

Primam brought a hand to her mouth, hiding her giggling. Prompto shrugged with that amused grin of his, while Tandem shook his head in equal amusement.

"I want to take more pictures this year. I feel like I spent so much time training with Mollie and Cor this year that I just didn't have enough time to snap some photos…" Prompto replied first and in earnest. His expression mellowed out into something a little more pensive. He took a moment to then dig into his jacket pocket and pulled out the familiar red digital camera. Turning it on with a smile, he held it up. "Speaking of — let's commemorate tonight! C'mon, everyone say 'Fabula Finis!'"

Prompto turned the camera so the lens was facing them. Leaning back, his posture was an open invitation, and Primam was the first to near and lean over, pointing a smile in the camera's direction. Tandem grabbed Noctis and dragged him in, grinning as Noctis protested. Once free from Tandem's grasp, Noctis also pointed his attention toward the camera, a closed-lipped smile.

Prompto held up his free hand, counting down with his fingers along with his words: "Three. Two. One—"

"Fabula Finis!" The chorus came more from Prompto, Primam, and Tandem more than it did Noctis, who remained having his close-lipped smile throughout the process.

Standing back up properly, Prompto took a look at the photo along with everyone else. Everyone at least looked good in the photo.

"Oh, a good first shot, eh?" Tandem commented. "Usually need to take two or three before all of us seem to cooperate with one another."

"A decent — if small — omen for the new year, I'd say." Primam gently nudged Prompto's shoulder with her own.

"Yeah!" Prompto chirped happily. He turned off the camera for now, though kept it out. Just in case. With the picture out of the way, he went on to bring Noctis' question back: "With that distraction done with, what did you guys have in mind for your Fabula Nova wishes?"

"Not off the hook, eh?" Primam hummed in thought.

"While she thinks of that, I actually just want to get some decent things made this year at the forge," Tandem said. It had been no secret that Tandem had been an apprentice with the royal smiths — a good alternative for him to help turn any frustration he had from whatever the Chorus training regimen had him do into something more productive.

"I suppose I was hoping that I could get accepted into LCU once this school year is well and truly over." Primam drew her hands together, looking off to the side.

Noctis noticed the slight shiver. As he had already observed prior: resilient, not immune.

Nearing Prompto, Noctis nudged the back of his knee, making him buckle with a slight yelp.

"Hey man! What the hell!?" Prompto hissed, holding his camera close.

Hooking his arm around Prompto's neck and shoulders and bringing him in close, Noctis lowered his voice. "Give your jacket to Prim, dumb ass…"

"I-I don't know, man…I feel like she'd get mad at me. She's already been shushing me and Tandem up about it…" Prompto replied, equally quiet. "Besides…does she even get cold? She keeps saying she can't feel it…"

"Just give her your jacket," Noctis said, tutting as he did so. Getting into it was too taxing to think about right now.

"Hi, hello. I'm right here. I can hear you," Primam said, leaning down to be eye level with both of them. Tandem could be heard snickering behind her. She then straightened her posture and then reluctantly held out her hand. "If it will make everyone quiet down about it, I'll take your jacket. Either of yours."

Removing his arm from Prompto, Noctis shoved him forward gently, a smirk returning to his face. Meanwhile, Prompto sputtered over himself before he shrugged the garment off and handed it over to Primam.

"Thank you, Prompto…" Primam said, getting the garment fitted on.

"Yeah, of course. Any time." Prompto rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand and then looked at Noctis. "Well, now that that's out of the way. You're not quite off the hook yourself, now are you? What are you hoping to achieve for Fabula Nova, Noct?"

"Me?" Noctis furrowed his brow slightly. No one else had asked him. He had a thought in mind, but it really was not something of a big, nor important feeling thing. "Well, I guess I ha—"

"Ten!"

Noctis had been interrupted by the excited chant from the people around as everyone's attention had gone to the countdown.

With each change in numbers, another chant. All the way til it reached 'one'.

As soon as the timer hit 00:00, cheering erupted before the whistle and cracks of fireworks popping into the night sky filled the air.

"Fabula Nova!"

[thelampisaflashlight]

What The Garden Grows

[A short drabble wherein Dew speaks with a strange woman in the woods.] Below the cut.

She sets the mug down in front of the man, placing it so the handle faces away from him, and Dew has to fight the urge to adjust it.

He stares at the golden ring around the rim of the mug instead, admiring the delicate shine.

The cup she holds is simpler.

Off white with a single, thin, tan line wrapped around the body.

It reminds him of the sort of dishware you'd find at a twenty-four hour diner where the waitress' name is Pam and she calls you "Hun" in an endearingly rough smoker's voice, in fact...

"My grandmother liked to take souvenirs back from the restaurants she visited." she explains, answering his unasked question.

"Sticky fingers?" he chuckles.

"Like a bird sitting in pine sap."

Dew gives a small smile before picking up his mug and sipping his coffee.

"You have questions." she says, pulling her chair out, the old wood creaking as she makes herself comfortable, "Ask."

Without hesitation, "Who are you?"

"I'm Bea." she replies, "Beatrix Milne, and so you don't have to ask, I'm a gardener."

"At the abbey?" he states, seeking clarity, and the woman nods, "How come I've never seen you before?"

"How often do you come out this far?"

"Touché." he swirls his coffee a little, watching the little bit of unmixed cream make trails, "I suppose you know Mountain then?"

"We've worked together before, yes." she confirms, "...I would consider him a friend... a good friend."

Dew hums, gesturing to the building itself, "What is this place?"

"I think the official name is 'The Cottage'... It's part of an old homestead that belonged to a fellow named Lars a very, very long time ago."

"Mountain's old house then." Dew looks around at the woodwork, ancient, but still standing tall, "He told me about this place a long time ago... Just never knew where it was."

"Then you know the story."

A pause as Dew traces his finger around the rim of his cup.

"...I do."

"You're trying to understand why he did it, aren't you?" Bea guesses, and Dew runs a hand through his hair.

"I know why he did it, I just don't know how." he says, "Do you?"

Bea slides him a plate of pastries, homemade, and Dew carefully takes a bite of one.

Apple.

"Everyone here has secrets, child of Bothynus." she smiles, "Sometimes it is better to live without knowing."

"Ignorance is bliss then, is it?"

"So it seems."

Dew looks at the flecks of thin bread upon his fingers, "...What are you?"

Bea breaks one of the pastries in half, dunking it in her coffee, "Human."

"You're a very odd human." Dew remarks, "Is that an American thing?"

She laughs, "Maybe. Who can say?"

"Why did you come here, Bea?" Dew asks after a moment, "What called you to this place?"

"Family." she says, "A promise."

"You have family here?"

"Not anymore, not in the physical sense at least."

"I was worried for a moment," he whispers, "that you might be one of the old bastard's secret children."

Bea takes a small bite of her treat, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I don't know who my father is, but I doubt he was anyone important."

"And your mother?"

"Troubled in life, hopefully at peace in death." she folds her hands upon the tabletop, "You can relate."

Dew sits back in his chair, "See, that's what makes me wonder if you really are human. You know too much."

"I could know more." she offers her hands to him, and he finds himself setting his own upon her palms, "What do you want to see?"

"You already know."

"You have to say it." she tells him gently.

"...I want to see Aether." he admits.

"I make no promises." she says, locking eyes with him.

"I expect none."

"Let us gaze into the deep then, together, shall we?"

[poetrybysita]

WISH UPON THE BRIGHTEST STAR (A CHRISTMAS ELEGY)

It’s the magic season so it’s time to be jolly

There’s no shame in merriment and folly

Time for hot chocolate near the fireplace

Time for us to gaze into the wide space

To make a wish for some old man up there

And hear the bells jingle in case you care

Joy to the world and deck those halls

Adorn that tree and embellish those walls

Carols now echo through shopping malls

Kindling delight in the joyless souls

Mariah’s belting notes now fill the silence

What’s a good present, give me guidance

I look at celebrations with people smiling

I hear the giggles and the glasses clinking

Joy fills the air while the bells are jingling

Snowflakes fall while kids are chuckling

I look at the mother with the glass of wine

Clad with finesse, she looks just fine

Still no one knows what’s on her mind

Cheer in her doleful eyes you shan’t find

She forsook her dream to become a bride

For to be a good doctor she once longed

But not when to her man she belonged

I look to the husband in the suit and tie

The tie around his stiff neck strains

All that fancy outfit constrains

His spirits for he is in great pains

Like the gallows rope so taut and tense

To marry his true love was his dream

His heart would glimmer and gleam

When thinking of a girl he loved as a teen

But that love he himself forsook

When vows to his current wife he took

The hand of the daughter of his boss

Obtained by him but with a great loss

I look to the girl, in a gown of red

Huge ribbon up between her hair locks

She’s fully adorned in a frivolous frock

To the window, her sad eyes glancing

In which starry skies were gleely dancing

Mean kids at school are calling her names

For her, a kind friend never truly came

Outside, it’s for her all the same

She lives in her head and takes the blame

She wanted friends, they brought her dolls

I glance at that family of three

I glance at that tall glamorous tree

And suddenly feel relieved and free

For being alone on Christmas Day

It’s actually a price I’m ready to pay

Miserable lives, but feigning joy

Replacing bliss with a trinket and a toy

A tiny kitten outside I found

Wailing with a desperate sound

Squealing, mourning the mother she lost

Out in the cold, freezing in the frost

Emaciated, shivering, the alley she crossed

The kitten I fed then gently picked up

And put her in a colorful box

With some holes poked to get in air

I held the colorful box with care

Wrapped a ribbon with a Christmas card

A kitten who had a life so hard

A gift so delightful she shall be

For another lonely soul in need of a friend

To their suffering, now, this is the end

I held the box and knocked on the door

By the door, the box I placed below

I hid behind the trees and snow

Since I didn’t want myself to show

The girl opened the door and said “hello”

A new, eccentric box, the little girl saw

In the sky, one hundred stars glow

But one wish was granted, we all know

To the gift she walked, with steps so slow

She opened the box, saw what’s inside

Where a tiny surprise for her hides

Merrily, the tiny kitten she hugged

A friend she wanted, a friend she got

She thought it’s from Father Christmas

But it was only from me

Contentedly I strode away

At least two were happy on Christmas Day

Two joyous souls in affection embrace

Two lonely beings truly found a place

So you wish upon the brightest star

But you know, wishing won’t get you far

All I want for Christmas is actually the fall

Of capitalism and patriarchy, hear my call

All I want is that no one exploits

All I want is that no one bullies

And that people follow their hearts

Instead of traditions and rules

And that we learn from life, not schools

Father Christmas won’t grant these wishes

But I know for sure that we will!

[mikloc4]

KNIGHTS OF THE FALLEN ERA

By: Matthew and Eli

Dearest reader,

Don’t question the style of writing you are about to read.

Intro

Scene 1: In a dark forest, far away, caught between time, reality, and fantasy, there are no lights, no sound—only the stillness of the night. In the distance, a faint light flickers. The light grows larger and larger until it reveals itself as a bonfire. A cloaked man hunches close to the fire, tossing small twigs into the flames to make it burn brighter. As if addressing the unseen, he looks into the distances

CLOAKED MAN:

 (raspy) I may look like I'm mad, but I am surely all here. You’re probably wondering where you are. Well, you’re in Athrill—the land of hopes and dreams…

His voice seems to lose all expression as his face shifts from a twisted look to one of pain and torture.

CLOAKED MAN

or at least, that’s what it once was. Now, it's the land of death and despair. No hope or dreams live here anymore.

His head snaps toward the fire, his hand hovering above the flame, letting it lightly burn his skin.

CLOAKED MAN: 

There was a time when this land was beautiful, when this land was amazing. I was a young boy when that time was…, it seems so long ago. There used to be music, laughter, love— but he took it all away… the Lord of Darkness.

The Cloaked Man stands, stepping away from the fire, he puts it out. Everything is thrust back into darkness; all is quiet except for the footsteps of the cloaked man.

CLOAKED MAN:

He drained us all, and anyone who stood up to him—oh, they received the worst punishment of all. Trapped in a prison of their own creation, endlessly tortured, day in and day out.

Out of the quietness, horse hooves ride in the distance, drawing nearer and nearer, until it's like they're running right past your ear. The cloaked man takes in his surroundings, he's panicking, breathing heavily. He grabs his belongings and starts to run.

HORSEMAN 1:

(pointing) There he is! Grab him, do not let him escape!

All the horsemen begin to chase after him, riding right behind as he ducks and runs through bushes and branches, cutting himself and leaving a blood trail. The cloaked man spots a cave to his left, takes a sharp turn, and runs deep into the cave, slowly disappearing. The horsemen start running in circles, having lost him.

HORSEMAN 1:

 How could we have let him get away?!

HORSEMAN 2:

It's whatever, man. Let's head back to the castle. He's done for anyway.

The horsemen ride off slowly, disappearing into the distance. From the depths of the cave, the cloaked man appears again. He kneels, picks up a stick, mumbles an incantation, and blows on the stick. It ignites.

CLOAKED MAN:

Monsters, all of them. They do the Lord of Darkness's bidding, thinking there's no escape. Pathetic fools...

He turns his head, staring off into the distance as if he were once again looking at an unseen audience.

CLOAKED MAN:

But… It is foretold that a group of knights, of true might and true power, shall rise from the darkness and ascend to the light, to shatter the eternal reign of shadows. They shall be known as

He walks off deeper into the cave, letting the light fade away as he collapses. Now, surrounded by nothing but darkness.

CLOAKED MAN:

(coughs) they will be known as Knights of the fallen era

Scene 2: The flash of a bright light reveals a bustling city of stone, filled with a thick, moist fog flowing throughout. The citizens move idly by in a drunken gaze as the sounds of horses, chattering and metal clanging echo around. But then, someone out of the ordinary stands out amongst the crowd, wearing a cloak and brandishing a sword. He walks with his head held low; his face shielded by his helmet. An ugly looking goblin bumps into him.

UGLY GOBLIN: 

watch it bud

The man lifts his head up, and the ugly goblin can only see his eyes staring from his helmet—eyes of pain and suffering just staring into the ugly goblin’s soul.

UGLY GOBLIN: 

I… I'm sorry. I don't want any problems. I just… I'll be on my way.

The man lowers his head again and continues walking, but only a little bit, as it seems he has reached his destination. He lifts his head up to read the sign that reads “Grimm’s Tavern.” The man enters.

Scene 3: A cozy little dim-lit tavern, filled with a variety of creatures—humans and monsters—all look up as the man closes the door behind him. He moves forward, and when he does, everything goes back to normal. The loudness of the tavern roars above everything else as the man makes his way to a stool and takes a seat.

GRIM: 

Hello, stranger. Don’t think I’ve seen ya here before. What can I get for ya? We’ve got the finest selection of beer, and an even grander selection of food. Just let me know what ya fancy, and I’ll get it for ya, brother.

THE MAN:

You’ve only just met me, and you’re offering me alcohol and food? Your name does not suit you at all.

GRIM:

(Laughing/Yelling) I get that a lot, my friend! I reckon me parents were drunk when they named me… or maybe they just didn’t like me all that much! (Laughs even harder)

THE MAN: 

(Chuckles) Maybe. Well, Grimm, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Atreyus.

GRIM:

(Drying a glass) Well, it’s a pleasure to meet ya, but I can already tell you’re not here just to swap names and get to know me. So, what do ya need?

ATREYUS:

I’m looking for someone. You ever heard the name Elijah before?

Grim sets the glass down begins scratching his chin thinking for a long moment Atreyus looks and waits patiently for him to respond

GRIM:

I don't…

Before Grimm can say another word, he’s interrupted by an even uglier goblin—this one has one eye and a crooked smile. The goblin sets his hand on Atreyus’s shoulder and lets out a laugh.

UGLIER GOBLIN:

If you’re looking for Elijah, I’m the one you need! Me and him, we’re great buddies. I know him so well, I could take you right to him if you’d like—I could, I could

GRIM:

Shit-face, go bother someone else, will ya? Trust me, Atreyus, you don’t want anything to do with this fella. He’s bad news—always has been, always will be.

ATREYUS:

Grim, I'm grateful for your concern, but I can handle this myself. Trust me.

Grim shrugs his shoulders and walks away, pouring somebody else another drink and starting a new conversation elsewhere. Now, it’s just Atreyus and the uglier goblin.

ATREYUS:

So you know Elijah, you say? Where can I find him?

UGLIER GOBLIN

(rubbing his hand together) Yes, I can help you find him, and I know him very well. We normally sit at that table over there, discussing many things.

Atreyus looks over to the corner and notices a small table, dimly lit by a window.

ATREYUS:

Many things, huh? Well, that’s not important to me. I just need to know where he is, so tell me.

UGLIER GOBLIN:

Now, I don’t just give information away for free. There’s a price for everything—you should know that.

ATREYUS:

(sighs) I figured as much. Name your price, goblin.

UGLIER GOBLIN:

Oh, I’m sure we can think of something. I’m not an unreasonable man, but…

Atreyus squints his eyes, knowing this dirtbag is going to try to bleed him dry—either all his cash or something worse. But Atreyus won’t lose his cool; he’ll stay calm and play along.

ATREYUS:

Just name your price.

The uglier goblin runs his fingers across Atreyus’s blade, chuckling a little bit as his evil smirky, twisted smile becomes more twisted.

UGLIER GOBLIN:

That sword of yours would catch a mighty, mighty fine price. Say hand over the sword, and we’ll call it a deal. If not, I’ll just take the sword off your DEAD BODY.

The goblin holds a blade up to Atreyus’s side and laughs, continuing to laugh. Atreyus just sighs.

ATREYUS:

Are you sure you wanna do this?

UGLIER GOBLIN:

Oh, I DEFINITELY wanna do this!

Quick as lightning, Atreyus is able to move his elbow down with the force of an elephant, knocking the blade out of the uglier goblin's hand. The Uglier goblin steps back, and Atreyus quickly moves down, takes the blade from the ground, and drives it into the uglier goblin's good eye. The uglier goblin falls, backing away and screaming in pain, slamming into the wall. Atreyus walks over to him and bends down.

ATREYUS:

Now, where is he?

UGLIER GOBLIN:

 (Grabbing his eye) About 2 miles out of town, there’s a small cottage next to a river. You can’t miss it, you really can’t.

Atreyus looks back to Grim and nods his head. Grim just stares at Atreyus and nods as well.

ATREYUS:

Thanks for your help, Grim. If I ever find myself back in town, I’ll drop by.

Atreyus walks out the door and shuts it behind him. He is now back out in the streets of the bustling city. He lowers his head again and begins moving through the crowd, disappearing. But from a rooftop, someone watches him, slowly observing him, slowly tracking him.

Scene 4: It took about 30 minutes to get out of the city, and now Atreyus was surrounded by nothing but trees, with light slowly creeping through the branches. He was on a long, winding road, and from time to time, people would pass by—either in their carriages, on horseback, or walking like him—but all going in the opposite direction, never staying too long to chat. Atreyus takes a moment, stops, and sits under a tree. He lowers his head for a moment and closes his eyes.

WOMEN'S VOICE:

Atreyus… Atreyus… ATREYUS!

Atreyus snaps his head up quickly, looking around, taking in his surroundings, breathing heavily. He draws his sword as he hears something rustling from the bushes. Slowly, he creeps closer and closer, then swings— but there’s nothing there.

ATREYUS:

(Sighs) Just playing tricks on myself.

Atreyus puts away his sword and begins walking again, thinking to himself, What was he doing, chasing another ghost, another dead end for the council? Atreyus could still turn back, but when he looks up, he realizes he's already at the cottage. Atreyus walks up to the door and knocks. No answer. He knocks again. No answer. Atreyus almost steps back to kick the door down, but a voice behind him prevents that.

ELIJAH:

I’d appreciate it if you didn’t knock my door down. I’m not in the mood to go look for a new door today.

Atreyus looks back, a small, scrawny, stick-like boy emerges out of nowhere, holding nothing but a bag that seems to be filled with glass bottles and strange contraptions.

ATREYUS:

Are you... Elijah?

ELIJAH:

Sadly, yes, that would be me. Let me guess, you weren't expecting someone like me?

ATREYUS:

Actually, you fit your description.

Elijah smirks, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. 

ELIJAH:

Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to think I disappointed your expectations, but something tells me you’re not a fan. So, what do you want?

ATREYUS:

It’s not what I want—it’s what the council wants. Elijah, you’ve been convicted of committing crimes against the Council of Higher Enlightenment.

Elijah drops his bag, glancing toward the side of the house where the road lies. Atreyus tilts his head as if to say, "You’re not going to make it." But Elijah thinks otherwise. Stepping back, he suddenly bolts toward a path that, strangely, seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Without hesitation, Atreyus gives chase.

ATREYUS:

Don’t make this harder on yourself, Elijah! Come back, and I’m sure the council will show Mercey! But if you keep running, I have the authority to kill you!

Atreyus’s words seem to not work on Elijah. Atreyus stops running, and Elijah looks back to notice that Atreyus has stopped pursuing him. Thinking he’s in the clear, Elijah picks up his pace and begins to run faster and faster and faster. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he’s flung into the air, caught in a trap set but by who? Elijah doesn’t remember it being there when he was coming back. Who put that there? Elijah struggles for a moment but then stops when he hears footsteps getting closer and closer. He looks down to see Atreyus standing underneath him.

ATREYUS:

They told me you were smart, but I guess not smart enough to avoid falling into one of your own traps.

Elijah:

I... I DIDN’T SET THIS HERE.

Atreyus’s head tilts; he couldn’t tell if Elijah was lying or telling the truth. Either way, it doesn’t matter to him. He cuts down Elijah and walks over to pick him up. Elijah jumps forward, knocking Atreyus onto the floor and ripping off Atreyus’s helmet.

ATREYUS:

What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get off me!

ELIJAH:

Freeing you.

Elijah places both his hands on Atreyus's temples and mumbles an incantation. All of a sudden, Atreyus's eyes roll into the back of his head, blinding lights going off in his head, not being able to see anything. Images of war, blood, freedom, beauty, peace all flash before Atreyus's eyes. Then nothing. Atreyus sits up and is surrounded by an empty white space. Atreyus looks over and sees a young boy crying.  

ATREYUS

Hey, kid, you all right?

The boy lifts his head up, and Atreyus's eyes widen. That little boy isn’t just any little boy—it’s him. But that couldn’t be him. How is that possible? Young Atreyus locks eyes with older Atreyus.

YOUNG ATREYUS

They took everything from us. Every drop of blood, every tear shed…they’ll pay. We’ll kill them all.

Before Atreyus can say another word, he's pulled out of the trance and back in reality. Elijah still on top of him with his hands on his temples. Atreyus shoves Elijah off of him, stands up, and picks Elijah up by the collar.

ATREYUS:

what the fuck did you do to me?! what the fuck was that?! I’ll…I’ll...

Atreyus steps away from Elijah, allowing Elijah to get up on his own. Atreyus watches him for a moment, but Elijah remains silent. Without a word, Atreyus draws his sword.

ATREYUS:

I'm supposed to bring you in alive, but I'm starting to think I'll bring you in dead.

ELIJAH:

No, I don’t think you will, my friend. And I know you won’t, because I have freed your mind. The corruption of the council…they are the enemy, not me.

Atreyus thinks for a moment, still clutching his sword. He begins to falter, and he begins to lower it and lower it until the sound of a branch snapping causes Atreyus to turn around at lightning speed and draw his blade up just in time as an arrow bounces off it. An evil laughter can be heard around them, circling the forest—a sinister, evil, murderous laugh. A lengthy, cloaked figure emerges from the trees, brandishing a crossbow in one hand and throwing knives in the other. No, but not just any throwing knives. Atreyus looks closely and realizes they have explosion incantations on them. Atreyus realizes who it is.

ELIJAH:

Who is that? They seem even scarier than you.

ATREYUS:

Yeah, scarier than me is definitely how I’d describe her.

ELIJAH: 

Her?

ATREYUS:

Her name is Nora. She’s the council’s overseer, the Executioner of executioners, the blooded assassin.

NORA:

You flatter me too much, Atreyus.

She removes her cloak and begins moving closer. Atreyus steps back, and oddly enough, steps in front of Elijah.

NORA:

(Smirks) Step aside, Atreyus. The council has given new orders, they want this man dead, here and now. They said it doesn’t matter how it happens or who else gets hurt, as long as he dies. So, move.

Atreyus does not move. He holds his ground, tightening his grip on his sword. Slowly, he begins calming his breath, honing his senses, and taking in his surroundings.

ATREYUS: 

Elijah?

ELIJAH:

Yes?

ATREYUS:

This is gonna sound stupid, but... why would you do what you did? For someone who's was planning on killing you.

NORA:

 Are you just going to ignore me!? I said move, Atreyus! I’ll cut you down—I don’t care! I’ll cut you into pieces!

ELIJAH:

To be honest, I don't really know. It was like... my senses and mind were guiding me, and they told me you were a friend.

ATREYUS:

(sighs) how do I know I can trust you?

NORA:

I don't believe this! You both are deliberately ignoring me! You know what? I've had enough. I'm gonna kill both of you—no questions asked—chop you up into little pieces and feed you to my dog!

Atreyus and Elijah continue to ignore Nora.

ELIJAH:

You can’t trust me, Atreyus, and you have every right not to. But I ask—if you want to change the world, no… save the world—then you and I should work together.

Atreyus takes a moment to think. He sticks his sword into the ground, his hand steady as he reaches down to pick up his helmet, replacing it on his head before grabbing his sword once more.

ATREYUS:

Well then, I trust you.

Atreyus throws his sword at Nora. Nora dodges it and charges at him. Atreyus easily grabs her by the hand, throwing her onto the ground and slamming her onto her back. She yells in pain, but not for long, as she quickly rolls and gets back up before Atreyus can step on her skull.

NORA:

(laughing insanely) You... you are a traitor, Atreyus! And for this, you will die! And I, for one, am going to enjoy cutting you into little pieces!

ATREYUS:

A lot of talk for someone who's about to die.

Atreyus looks over to Elijah, signaling for him to hide in the bushes. This isn't a fight he needs to be involved in.

ATREYUS:

walk—away.

NORA:

No.

Both of them clash. Nora uses her daggers to strike with deadly precision, aiming for Atreyus as he swings his sword, trying to decapitate her. Back and forth they go, each hoping the other will falter so they can land a killing blow. Nora gains the upper hand with her speed, dodging Atreyus's slow and heavy attacks, a swift move, she knocks Atreyus off balance, and before he can react, she holds a dagger to his throat.

NORA:

It's over I'm going to love cutting you open and using your blood as new war paint.

She starts to move her arm to slit Atreyus’s throat, but then, from the bushes, Elijah charges in, knocking her in the head with a branch, causing her to stumble. Atreyus swiftly picks up his sword and holds it at her throat now.

ATREYUS:

 Now it’s over.

NORA:

Then do it. Add another body to your list.

Elijah walks over and places his hand on Atreyus's shoulder.

ELIJAH:

Let her go. She's not worth it. You both are in no condition to keep fighting, so in my book, we are done here.

Atreyus looks into Nora's eyes, pure hatred radiating from them, causing him to think for a moment. Why did Elijah want to spare her? Was there a reason or not? But either way, Elijah was right—the path to change isn’t paved with blood.

ATREYUS:

fine.

Atreyus stands up, brushing the dirt off his pants. He picks up his helmet and puts it back on. With one last glance at Nora, Atreyus sheathes his sword. Atreyus and Elijah both walk away, leaving Nora to herself.

NORA:

Cowards! finish your job!

Scene 4: Now, back in the bustling city, Atreyus, now accompanied by Elijah, enters Grim's tavern. As they enter and close the door, everyone stops to stare at them for just a second, and then everything goes back to how it was. Just like last time.

GRIM:

Atreyus! There ya are! I thought I’d not see you again. Thought ya might've run off after yuh little accident earlier.

ELIJAH:

Accident?

ATREYUS:

It was nothing.

Atreyus stumbles as his wounds that he received were a bit too much for him to keep walking. Elijah catches Atreyus before he can fall and helps him to a stool where Atreyus takes off his helmet. Grim, finally being able to put a face to a friend, makes him smile, but he quickly brushes off the joy so Atreyus does not notice.

GRIM:

By God, how much trouble did you go through to get your friend over here? Or is he even your friend? Let me guess—he's your prisoner.

ELIJAH:

If you had asked him that question when we came in earlier, he would’ve probably told you, yes, I was his prisoner. But now… I’m a friend.

GRIM:

I don’t think I understand that all too well, but who am I to question friendships? All that matters is ya both in one piece. So, what can I get ya?

ELIJAH:

I think two of your finest… uh, what is your best alcohol?

GRIM:

Right, two fine shots o' Dragon's Breath comin' right up, my friends.

Grim grabs two glasses and fills them with a green, acidic-looking liquid. Atreyus and Elijah take the glasses from Grim and down them in one go.

ELIJAH:

You know, I don’t think I have any cash to pay for these. I apologize, my friend. Is there a way I can…

GRIM:

Ah, don’t worry yourself over it, friend. Call it on the house this time.

ELIJAH:

How kind of you. You know, your name really doesn’t fit your personality.

GRIM:

(laughing) Yeah, I’ve heard that one a lot.

Grim looks at Atreyus and smiles.

ATREYUS: 

As much as I think now would be a great time to tend to our wounds, I don’t think we’re out of the clear quite yet.

ELIJAH:

(sighs) Your right, we should probably get going.

Elijah looks over at Grim and smiles. Atreyus looks at Elijah and wonders, what is Elijah thinking?

ELIJAH:

Grim, we’ve just met, but you’ve shown great kindness to me. Would you like to accompany us? Someone with your personality would certainly keep our spirits high on the journeys to come.

GRIM:

No, my friend, journeys aren’t for me. I belong here.

ELIJAH:

Then farewell, May our paths cross again someday.

Atreyus nods at Grim as a silent way of saying thanks for everything. Elijah and Atreyus walk out of the tavern. Grim looks down at the stool and notices Atreyus left his helmet. Grim smiles, picks it up, and places it on the top shelf behind him…

Scene 5: A couple of hours pass, Elijah and Atreyus are well out of the city, back on a winding, desolate road in the middle of a forest. As nighttime approaches, Atreyus finds a spot for them to camp. They are stopping for the night.

ATREYUS:

(starting a fire) Elijah, there's something I've been meaning to ask you.

Elijah leans back against a tree, watching the flames flicker.

ELIJAH:

 Ask away.

ATREYUS:

(sits down) why did you want me to spare Nora back there? I could have just killed her, but you didn’t want me to. why?

ELIJAH:

Think about it, Atreyus. She wasn’t the enemy; she was just doing the council’s bidding. Killing her would’ve made no difference. When I freed you, it was like you were reborn, and I didn’t want you to take a life right after being reborn.

ATREYUS:

Well, I can’t argue with that, but that brings me to my second question, wh-

ELIJAH:

Atreyus, I know.

ATREYUS:

What do you mean you know, you don’t even know what I was going to ask.

ELIJAH: 

You're going to ask about the visions you saw, aren’t you? Why there was a younger version of yourself in that empty white void. It’s simple, Atreyus. I only read your mind and revealed what was already there—that, at one point, you were suffering because of the council. In return, I showed you the truth and opened your mind.

ATREYUS:

I’m not going to act like that makes any sense, but you did me a kindness. I guess I’ve been killing and traveling so long, I forgot what it was like to be human.

ELIJAH:

Yes, that is the whole point of the Council—to make people forget what it’s like to feel human. To turn those the dark lord has wronged into his henchmen, like you, Atreyus. But now, your mind is open, and you will help me destroy the Council and the dark lord.

ATREYUS: 

Destroy the Dark Lord, Elijah? Are you crazy? Taking out the Council is one thing, but the Dark Lord? How do you expect to do that?

ELIJAH:

Calm down. Enough questions for tonight. I promise we will talk in the morning, and I will explain everything.

Before Atreyus can say anything else, Elijah lays on his side and drifts off to sleep. Atreyus grips tighter onto his sword, his mind now filled with even more questions than before. He sits there for a moment longer, but then he too slowly drifts off to sleep.

End of episode one

[townsenddecades]

1317 – Day 1 – Witches’ Coven

Edith’s death isn’t the only reduction the household goes through in these three months, although the other parting, while bittersweet, at least isn’t as final. Simon has turned thirteen years old recently, and as foretold by Elea, his magical abilities have started stirring. They have always been there, but while it had been a barely noteworthy hum beneath his skin before, he can now feel it as if it were a stream’s current under his skin. He tries to call upon it and is amazed to see sparks follow the movements of his hands.

Elea has given him instructions where to find her for exactly this case, and Benedict, though reluctant to let his son go after just losing his daughter, agrees that it is likely for the best. Who knows if unrestrained magic won’t burn their house down? A fire is be the last thing they need. So, Simon sets out to go to her, alone.

It is a long, wearying journey. Simon can hardly believe that Anna and Edith once tried to do it on their own.

The thought of his lost sister shoots an arrow into his heart. She had been so interested in what Elea had told them, so happy that she had been right and that there was a witch living in these parts. And now, she won’t even see what Elea had to teach him. It isn’t right. He can only hope that whatever he’ll learn will be able to prevent another tragedy like that.

That is the road his mind travels while he walks through the dark, damp forest beyond the ruined village of Lüghaven, until he finally makes out a tower through the barrier of trees. He blinks at the sudden appearance of the building, so unexpected this far from any other dwellings. He had expected a small hut, not a residence of multiple storeys.

Elea greets him in her small garden, a smile on her face.

“I’ve felt your approach. Your magical aura has grown considerably.”

“That’s why I’m here. I can wield my magic now, but I still can’t control it. I want to learn.”

“And learn you shall. It’s been a long time since I’ve had an apprentice. My own daughter hasn’t been granted the gift of magic, sadly.”

That takes him by surprise. “You have a daughter?”

“Mariora, yes. She lives with me. You will meet her soon. But first, I want you to show me your magic.”

And so he does, until a lovely, dark haired girl around his age walks outside to tell them – her mother, really, as she starts with surprise when she sees him – that dinner is ready. Simon can’t respond at first, too busy staring at her. He doesn’t know what he expected, but a girl this beautiful wasn’t it.

She has the same striking blue eyes as her mother.

Mariora leads them inside. He starts when he sees the ruined interior of the house, even asks if taking the stairs upwards is safe, but the women simply smile. And with good reason: while the stairs look unsafe and the lower story hardly has walls and is full of debris, the upper storeys are comfortable, warm and in perfect repair.

“The damages in the lower storey are real enough”, Elea informs him, “but there is a glamour on the steps to make it seem as if they are about to collapse. Keeps people from being too inclined to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

That is reasonable enough, he supposes, although he has a lot to learn.

Mariora turns to him while her mother busies herself with putting something away. “So, you’re the apprentice my mother has promised.”

Simon smiles nervously. “I suppose I am. It still feels strange to be a witch’s apprentice.”

“Only if you haven’t grown up around magic. I only hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Simon Townsend.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Mariora, don’t frighten our new guest.” Her mother walks over with their food floating on a tray before her. “Be happy that we have company to offer us some variety.”

“Of course, Mother.”

But her words don’t leave Simon’s mind for a while.

WATCHER’S NEWS:

Lady Gwendolen Dudley has celebrated her thirteenth birthday.

Prev: 1317, Day 1, Part 1/2 <--> Next: 1317, Day 2

[ilbound]

no one at all: me, dropping a new ( mha/bnha ) verse: ................. 🧍

don't ever say i don't do nothing for y'all ( i'm doing this for exactly 2 people ) . another yappening incoming, so it'll be under a cut. it's unspoken in this post but verona, sloan, and kadai have roles in this verse SOMEWHERE ... i shall get around to expanding upon that later anywhere between 6-10 months weeks. anyways, tw for: self-mutilation, mentions of abuse & neglect, murder, etc. proceed with caution if that's not your vibe.

Some say that “the family home is where the deepest resentments grow”. Often, we never realize how true that is until there’s no undoing the damage which has already been done, collected over years spent in suffocation within these walls that held onto each miserable memory made.

In a word, the Rolavs seemed altogether normal; just another average, nothing-special, nuclear family with everything to hide. Yet you see, NAMES BURDEN WEIGHT ( at least, that’s what tradition might say ), and this one is no different. “Rolav” is a surname belonging to a long-lived clan of villains ( a criminal organization, shall we say, which operates off animalistic creed & specializes in hunting, in eluding the public perception ) . With trace roots back to SCOTLAND - a heritage boasted in their savage disposal of requested/required quarries - the family itself is oftentimes regarded as an “INVASIVE SPECIES” by other criminal families of the villain underworld ( however, are regarded with no less respect ) . The Rolavs are - or were - a prominent player, as far as powers go. However, in recent generations, the heritable Quirk most notable to the clan - “ALL-FIRE” - has become unstable, unpredictable, rendering most progeny currently with it, entirely unable to properly utilize it to its fullest potential. Which brings us to the current era, where Ceres Rolav, the standing patriarch of the family, is desperate to have a child that would carry the Quirk and manifest it IN FULL, just as it was generations ago. The issue being, there’s no guarantee that it would ( at least, not without destroying the child in the process; but, to secure the bloodline, sacrifices are necessary ) .

Per tradition, the Quirk would likely pass down to the FIRSTBORN SON who would then be raised to inherit the clan itself and assume the role of patriarch ( & to effect, he shall also inherit the name “BRAZEN HART” ) . However, Ceres’ whole world turned over when he was met with a doe ( a daughter ) rather than a buck ( a son ) . In fact, he was disappointed, concerned, even a bit angry. Despite his so-called wife’s protestations, Ceres endeavored to raise the child as planned, AS IF MALE, completely ignoring their birth gender and proceeding to groom them for their role as future patriarch irregardless.

Ceres’ regime with young Kaen was relentless. He was less and less a father and more a stringent authoritarian, impressing upon them the looming demands of their future inheritance ( & nothing less than perfection was ever acknowledged ) . Kaen’s childhood was little more than hours spent being drilled on family history, on family tradition, on family creed -- always ABOUT FAMILY & STRENGTH & HONOR IN THE GLORY OF FIRE . Very few times did their mother stand for them, did she curtail Ceres’ insatiable ire and ambition ( instead, her always-sulking, half-drunk presence made things worse ) . Though, there was one memory that sticks out to Kaen, even now, where their mother told them: “Don't be like me. Don't be like your father. Be better. DO GOOD THINGS.” Words that they didn’t understand the meaning of until many years too late.

Kaen’s peace was found in being able to go to public school, escorted away from the hidden-away estate tucked in a remote location somewhere in the mountains. And considering Ceres made strides to keep his “professional” and personal identities separate, Kaen was able to have a mostly normal school career. It was, at least, until Kaen’s Quirk manifested at age 5, bursting to life in a sudden act of altruism that nearly set several other classmates ablaze as they stood to defend another from getting picked on. Unfortunately, even when the teachers rushed in, Kaen found it INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to snuff; this, a recurring issue that was never quite solved. Several other accidental incidents of arson occurred in the months thereafter, leading to a meeting between Kaen, their parents, and the principal to discuss “options”. But truthfully, everyone already came to a simple conclusion: to remove them from the school and eventually the public entirely.

Ceres remained with Kaen and their mother for ONLY ANOTHER YEAR before something in him seemed to change the more and more he noticed Kaen’s Quirk evolving. Kaen overheard him telling their mother, “That is my son, I know, but there’s something else in him.” And no sooner had they heard this discussion than they distinctly remember the scene of him walking out the door without so much as a backward glance. Despite everything he put them through, Kaen tried to run after him, only for their mother to grip their shoulder - a little too tightly - and hold them in place, telling them that he was not someone worth chasing nor wasting their tears on.

From bad to worse, Kaen’s life from then began to spiral as their mother did not take well to Ceres outright abandoning her with a child who possessed an out-of-control Quirk. The only signs that Ceres - or even that the rest of the clan itself - still held any regard for her and Kaen were the infrequent deposits of money into her bank account, as if INSURANCE to keep them at least somewhat afloat and sustained in his absence. Otherwise, no matter how often Kaen saw their mother try to reach out to him ( & to other members of the clan ) , Ceres seemed to have fallen off the face of the country. So, it might’ve been fear that drove her to do as she did, drinking so much, ignoring Kaen’s needs, striking out at them again and again and again-- Or perhaps, it truly was her own brand of resentment ( even if misdirected ) .

In those years, trapped in that house with that woman, Kaen became very familiar with the police, having called them on numerous occasions for some sort of help ( or some sort of comfort ) . And what good it did. Nothing ever changed ( & why would it ? ) . Particularly, there was one woman that stood out: Yuna. Yuna had just joined the force, and didn’t anticipate becoming so fixed in the life of a teenager as she did, so keen on trying to “save” Kaen from, what exactly, she wasn’t sure yet, but she knew she had to. She managed to convince their mother to allow Kaen back into the public, under supervision, so they can continue a proper education, and - thankfully - to remove them from the house for at least part of the day before a more suitable solution can be recognized.

Before they know it, it’s the summer, during academic break. Summer makes their Quirk especially active ( heat begets heat, as they’ve realized when they were younger ), and even more so worsens their temper. Kaen was currently nursing a blooming welt on their ribcage from their mother’s recent tirade earlier that evening, and suddenly it all becomes quite clear: you have two options, their father’s voice echoes, you either live or die, that’s the way of things, so make your choice. And they do.

Kaen musters up their courage, compounding it with the contempt which has been building within them for years, and looks into their mirror. They’re gaunt, haggard, beaten-looking-- And there, atop their bedraggled red mane, sits a budding crest of antlers that resembles their father’s. It’s instinctive, then, this sudden surge of HATE which seethes in them, compelling them to grab those awful little horns, beginning to YANK & PULL , their body jerking disjointedly. It hurts, yes, but is this really anything in comparison to what they’ve already gone through? No. They can tolerate it, just a little more-- And with a sickening, awful CRACK , the antlers splinter in their hands, the bone breaking off and falling into their bruising palms, rivulets of blood trickling down their brows and into their eyes. Their reflection grins back at them, own teeth grown sharp and gaze burning in a way they don’t recognize. This will do.

Whatever happened next is not pretty, and most of the evidence was lost in the miles-wide inferno that ensued ( a fire which also engulfed them in the process, yet strangely did not harm them ) . But the remains of the corpse of Kaen’s mother - whatever could be recovered of the near-ashes - divulged the fact that Kaen brutalized her with MAKESHIFT WEAPONS before setting everything in the surrounding area ablaze ( that is, the detectives found the scant remains mangle-twisted around … antlers, of all things, likely wielded like knives ) .

Kaen was just 16 at the time, only an honors-level student in a small, civilian high school located in the foothills ( no-one knew, no-one had any idea that they were capable of such violence when all they did towards their peers was smile & act so kindly ) . The official reports said they had A PSYCHOTIC BREAK and once apprehended, Kaen was put on a hold to be properly evaluated, just to cover the bases. During this time, Yuna approached Kaen, noting that they seemed PARTICULARLY CALM for someone who is facing severe charges and just suffered an intense mental fallout ( in her words, “they don’t look the same anymore. whatever came out of that fire wasn’t the kid i knew.” ) . Yuna told Kaen that it would be a conflict of interest for her to have any involvement in their case, however she intends to give them a lawyer for the upcoming trial. When Kaen asked her why she’d ever do that, Yuna shrugged and said, “Some people are worth making mistakes for.”

The trial which ensued was - in no uncertain terms - the MOST performative in recent history, likely due to their bloodline ( the one they tried hard to reject & deny ) . The publicity from the case set the foundation, putting the Rolav heir into public prominence with the press eating up their image, chasing after their secrets, and hanging on their every word and action ( “the sweetest little killer”, tabloids sensationalized, “seems this is the chip off the old buck, isn’t it?” ) . At the end of a two-month deliberation, they were acquitted, if only because of the grace of their expert lawyer and their own performance in front of the judges. From there, it would be a chance at REHABILITATION. And when flocked by press at the end of it all, asked what they intended to do with their granted freedom, Kaen smiled and replied, “Everythin’. This is jus’ the beginnin’. I’m gonna … DO GOOD THINGS.” This, Kaen even still strives to achieve.

From there, Kaen is granted asylum with Yuna, living with her as the estate is closed and recovered, all effects secured until Kaen turns 18. With Yuna, Kaen is transferred to a different district, and a new high school, but doesn’t escape the newfound infamy. They do, however, finish off their general education with honors, graduating top of their class. And after, they confide in Yuna that they intend to pursue a career in film ( something that had always inspired them & comforted them when they were a child ) . Yuna supported the idea, and remained in their corner even when they began striking out on their own and touching base with agencies over the course of the next year or so.

By 20, Kaen is signed to a prolific agency and already finished filming for their first movie as a titular antagonist ( a role that, although their first, would become their most well-known & well-beloved ) . And today, at 26, Kaen has landed several other roles, 2 of which were primary billing spots in other films. Kaen had successfully rebounded, capitalizing off their perverted sense of fame from their trial to become an actor; the public adores them, aggrandizes them, and yet … FEARS THEM just the same. Now that their heritage ( & unstable quirk ) has gone public, people are more than a little wary of them, and Kaen has been vested with the mantle of, “THE UNTOUCHABLE DOE” , both for their image and for their power and influence; a character that no-one can get close to, that no-one can really be near enough to know in full.

Currently, Kaen’s overarching goal is to track down their clan - rather, their father - and challenge him for the right of the patriarchy ( as they believe it’s owed to them ) , to inevitably return their family “to the light” rather than allow them to live unnoticed in the shadows. However, Kaen truly does not intend to do harm, and does not intend to follow the role of villainy despite what their heritage may incline them to do; they’re not exactly the most moral of creatures, either ( especially not towards themself ) . How their story ends, how they wind up ultimately participating in the unfolding strife between villains and heroes, entirely depends on whom they interact with. So I’ve decided to leave that open-ended. But make no mistake, this entire story is a TRAGEDY, Kaen cannot be saved … Though they can be FREED.

Quirks ( yes, there’s technically 2 ) :

“ALL-FIRE” — Primary — In essence, this is a Quirk of highly potent immolation; All-Fire allows Kaen to set themself or others ablaze without the use of direct physical contact ( lit. actual pyromancy ) . Kaen’s flames are ATYPICAL of most fire-users, manifesting in an array of hues and colors all at once; it is extremely mesmerizing, but also, in practice, a pure-combustion that can incinerate a target to ash if not controlled or restrained properly. As mentioned, Kaen lacks control and even worse, lacks proper Quirk training. Because of this deficit in education, Kaen is UNABLE TO TRULY CONTROL All-Fire, nor have they ever been able to “turn it off” ever since it first manifested at 5. By 16, it continued to evolve and burn through their system unchecked, and for over a decade, Kaen has effectively been BURNING ALIVE . Although this sounds bad ( & it is ) , it comes with an upside: Kaen is impervious to being harmed by fire, full-stop, and is no longer hurt by their own flames ( they are, essentially, a walking inferno ) .

“HETEROMORPHISM : CERVIDAE CARNIVORA” — Secondary + Residual — A deeply foundational and biological Quirk that HIGHLY IMPACTS Kaen's functionality , even if it does not seem to blatantly appear physically as it does for the vast majority of their bloodline. It allots Kaen immense physical endurance , pain tolerance , animalistic instinct + drive ( note: not as a prey-based animal but a predator ) , and heightened sensory and strength. Kaen is a beast hiding in plain sight , even if they don't rightly act nor seem like one. CERVIDAE CARNIVORA grants Kaen deer-like traits ( making them seem outwardly doe-like or fauny ) while complimenting it with internalized carnivorous traits ( the instinct to hunt , the innate drive & fixation on things , a deeply rooted ferocity , etc. etc. ) .

A few notable weaknesses

Self-Restraint = / = Control — Kaen is notable for their demeanor ( composed, docile, calm even under duress ) . However, this is all external, and doesn’t at all match the internal strife they’re consistently combating; a struggle which tends to trigger “flare ups” in their fire, whether intentional or not. It’s never been a secret that Kaen isn’t trained or at all well-versed in how to properly utilize either of their Quirks, but because people - the press, coworkers, etc. - tend to see them be so openly placid, they tend to ASSUME Kaen has everything under control. This is not necessarily the case. Kaen may be able to better contain the range of damage when “accidents” happen, but that doesn’t stop them from inadvertently causing destruction or mishaps if they - at any point - lose their temper, or let their emotions get the better of them.

Water or Ground-based Quirks — Self-explanatory. However, Kaen also cannot swim. At all. Open water makes them nervous and shuts them down ( funnily enough, so does rainy weather ) .

Ice — Not necessarily because of a “weakness”, per-se, but because ice helps to “balance” or otherwise, literally, “chill out” their ever-burning Quirk by lowering the power threshold to a more manageable degree. Using ice on them would hopefully help to neutralize their fire. It’s why they take ice baths consistently.

Darkness — A primal fear. Don’t ask. It’s an easy win if you’ve got this sort of power.

Some other things of note for this verse:

Kaen is a known CELEBRITY , but also considered a civilian. They’re not entitled to use their Quirks at all ( unless for a role ) , and in fact were warned against it by the judges upon acquittal.

Kaen strives to change the narrative of their own lineage. Despite how people look at them, they are inordinately sweet-tempered, kind, and compassionate; they REFUSE to fall in line with the “nature” of their heritage ( & yet, there’s still an emptiness in them, a seething rage just waiting for an excuse to come forward ) .

Because Kaen’s All-Fire has remained constantly/consistently activated, they are regarded as one of the few and far-between case studies in LIMITLESS POTENTIAL , for their body has entirely transcended beyond all physical barriers to maintain an ever-evolving Quirk and it’s manifesting power for years at a time, without stopping.

Kaen has managed to stop their Quirk from incinerating people around them. However, they still give off an IMMENSE AURA of heat, of burning, of barely restrained fire that causes most to recoil and give them a wide berth. Their fire does, however, manifest inadvertently off and on in casual displays ( smoking from their mouth/nose, crackling cinders from their person, burning in their eyes, etc. ) .

As they are restricted from Quirk-usage, if they ever get into a scuffle with someone, they will NOT use their Quirks to fight. Hardly at all. In fact, they will openly mock anyone who uses Quirks against them, taunting them to “fight like a real man” and hit them properly ( another lesson likely learned from their upbringing, the preference for true fisticuffs compared to power-brawls ) .

Kaen has ANIMALISTIC TRAITS thanks to the recessive biological traits from their father’s lineage; sharp teeth and nails, and of course the antlers which sit broken and ungrown atop their head ( they cover these, typically, with a news-boy knit-hat ) . These traits become more prominent the more emotional they get ( re: they look more bestial ) .

Fire is often depicted as a force of DESTRUCTION , but for Kaen it becomes a conduit of RETRIBUTION & PURIFICATION . Take that as you will.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||An Officer's Corruption part twenty-six||

Hello there dears, Peahen mom here but I'm going to add another part to this mini series. I hope you like it. I couldn't help it so have another one today.

If you wish to see how or where everything is going, you can follow up on the chapters down below.

||Chapters so far||

||Previous Chapters 1-7||((Click here))

((Previous chapters 8-13)) (Click here))

||Previous chapters 14-20)) ((Click here))

Part Twenty one ((NSFW Warning))

Part Twenty two ((NSFW Warning))

Part Twenty three

Part Twenty Four

Part Twenty five

((Your reading part Twenty Six))

||OVA Chapters 1-7|| ((Written by my amazing friend demon mun)) (Click here))

||Warning||

~Violence is seen in this drabble

~Blood is seen on this drabble

~Seduction maybe?

||Drabble Summary||

Seems some of the prisoners have gotten a bit annoyed with how the three officers here in T prison has gotten. Yuji, Kisho, Megumi, along with the Six claws heard some wanted to fight them!? How will the three take care of this Meanwhile, other activity is noticed in the other prisons today too. But lets see what happens shall we?

||Guests in Drabble||

Ira"Kali" Vin-Shia, Ink Vanguard, Kinie Ger, Joshua Star, and anyone else mention belongs to my amazing Rp partner @demon-blood-youths

Oh and the lovely horrors also belong to the side blog @lovelyxhorrors that's also run by Demon mun <3

Ashley Butterfly, Jinx Violet and others mentioned are my OC's and belong to me. Dazai Osamu is from the anime Stray dogs but is also a muse I rp as. Yuji Itadori, Megumi fushiguro, and Yuji Itadori is from Jujutsu Kaisen but is also a muse I rp as.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble as others have this warning. But like I state before, this is written for fun. So I hope you like it and my friend too. With that, I hope you Enjoy.))

~~~~~In Philly with Ethan and Willow~~~~

Both were quiet while trying to progress what just happened in the meeting. It was shocking to say the least but they didn't want to question what is going on over in New York City. Given their own prison they rule together, it was concerning. True, Aiyana has a police station in her section and Ethan has one in his own.

"Hey Ethan? Should we be worried about what happened in NYC? I mean, hearing that some of those inmates getting out.."

"I know, Willow it's...disturbing to hear but you know how Warden Kinie is. Given her status and what news we seen so far happening over there. We can get it's true." he looks to his desk but sighed, closing his eyes. "Knowing her, she means business..."

"...I guess we'll have to wait and see how this goes won't we? For now, we should be seeing that the officers from our groups are getting the inmates downstairs for lunch. Shall we check on them?" he stood up ready to leave the office but Willow remains there making him stop. "Warden Phoenix?"

"Sorry..just..thinking about something.." she mutters following him while he looks to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Is something troubling you? Is it the meeting?"

".........It's what Warden Kinie said. About how some inmates can get a second chance. It reminds me of when you helped me during my bad times. I did so many horrible things but.." she mutters remembering but Ethan knew. Years ago when it was just his squad watching over Philly before he and her met. True they had fights, her getting away but it was because of what the evil criminals did to her.

"Now now, come on. You know it was not your fault. Besides, I told you and I know this is true. You don't have to worry about it anymore. Your in a better place and living better. You were confused at the time so don't worry.." he said now holding her hand. She blinks to look then at him only to gently kiss his cheek. "??"

"T..thank you." she mutters but Ethan said nothing to smile while holding her hand.

"Now come on, we have to check on our officers and the inmates." he said as both leave the office together. Time to get to work.

~~~~~~~Meanwhile with Joshua~~~~~~~~

The inmates still remain where they were but as Hellmare and Maggie saw, none tried to get out or argued. When being under Ashley's control it was not too hard. They listen and obeyed while being here. Even new inmates that showed up this early morning was under her entranced spell.

"You know? I don't know how she does this. It's like their zombies but good ones." Maggie saw so many just being quiet or if some was not under her power they were scared not wanting to be.

"Remember Maggie, they are scared of her and her team. Given the notes we read, she is pretty dangerous. But she seems so nervous for one." she mutters thinking about it while drinking some fresh hot tea in a coffee cup. Maggie grumbles eating something but looking at the inmate she was keeping a eye on. What was his name, T-bone? Yeah, he was down there eating his food but heard Hiroshi telling him to not be so down about things. Hellmare was seeing her inmate Hiroshi eating his food but they were both behaving.

"Though..both seem to be good even without being under her control. Still weird." she grumbles eating another bite of her beagle while noticing something. "Oh, did you hear from Joshua and see if he was alright?" she asked Hellmare.

"I heard he's resting right now after checking up with Ashley. She's still in her cell. Seems she was not hungry right now. Though, I guess it could be due to him feeding her." Hellmare hums at the thought but seeing everyone eating. Even if that was true, Ashley was indeed still in her cell but she had the blanket around her while resting against the wall. Her eyes glowing in the dark from where she was.

She did eat again from Joshua but in private, knowing she wouldn't if others were watching. Though, it's only due to their pack he made with her.

~~~~Flashback to the first day she arrived with her team~~~~

"You wish to do...w...what?" she blinks looking to Joshua who was told of what she was. A demon but a succubus who had power of Inferna-Chlorokinesis/demonic plant manipulation. That and being able to help with medicine due to the plants she makes.

"Y..Yes, you heard me. I wish to ask that you make a pack with me. A deal." Joshua was quiet and yet Ashley said nothing nervous to look at him.

"B..but w..why make a p..pack with me? What do you w..want?" she was unsure what to think about this but it worried her.

"I don't want anything from you..but your help." he said that confused her more. He wanted her to help with the prison?

"I..I don't understand. Why are you a...asking an inmate for this?"

"..I know you're the baby sister to the inmate Rex oxford mills that's in Warden Kinie Ger's prison. But I also know your just as dangerous. I read you are an dangerous demon but also a...a succubus. I read your information and I..I can't let you try to eat anyone while being in my prison. The inmates might end up trying to make things worse here and most of them have already caused problems or destroying the areas here. So I'm asking you to at least hear me out." he said.

"..........."

"I wish to make a deal that you can...uhhh help me. I promise I won't do anything if your worried. Same with your team." he said.

"......." She looks down at her lap still confused but Joshua saw her still curled up shaking now. She didn't have the blanket but he was worried.

"Hey are you...okay?"

"I..I'm fine.....Just......hungry." she mutters.

"..You didn't eat anything?" he asked but as he tries to go and check on her. He saw her move back a little nervous. He didn't want to scare her only thinks. "Hey, I w..won't hurt you. I'm sorry if I scared you." he said to her.

"....Y..You didn't..." she mutters but didn't look at him. Joshua saw she really was scared but how could someone like her be dangerous too. She looked so innocent.

"...S..so this deal. W..what is it?" she asked but Joshua sits in a chair in front of her cell bed but made sure not to scare her or get too close unless asked.

"My deal is t..this: You can help me with keeping the inmates here calm. I read your able to get the most d..dangerous people under your herem and control. You can keep t..them calm without causing fighting or anything. S..so here is my deal: You help me with keeping them calm and keep them from fighting and..m...maybe help with your medicine. You seem to know what your doing with the plants you grow."

"........"

"So if you do that...I can hear what you want in return?" he said but this got Ashley to think a little while looking down at her lap. He seriously would do this for her? Given some thought, she only looks more nervous.

"..Ashley?"

"H..How do I know your not going to t..trick me to do what you w..want?" she asked that Joshua blinks but looked worried.

"I won't..I'm not that type of Warden. I wanna keep peace in my prison even after the last few riots, fights, and other destructive things happened. I just want it to be kept under control. If your able to help me, I promise I'll give you something in return."

".....A...anything in return?" she said seeing him nod. Now she was thinking to look down. "W...would be alright if I can get a n..new blanket? A warm soft one since It helps me sleep?" she said.

"Okay, I can do that. Anything else?"

"C..can I also......have something else that will help with my cravings? You know what I am so.....so...can't I have at least one prison to feed off from?"

"........I can't give you that request, miss Butterfly. I did say I don't want any of the prisoners trying to cause something else." he said seeing Ashley looking down. "But.....maybe I can still give you someone."

"...Y..You can? W..who?" she said only for Joshua to look at her.

"I'll let you feed off from me."

"!?" Wait, him!? He was going to offer himself? "Y..You? Your willing t..to do that?"

"Yes.....If you keep your word, I'll feed you whatever you need. I know you need more than human food at times so......so I'll offer myself to feed you. Is that alright?" he saw her shocked but no one would willingly do that. Knowing her power and hunger it was shocking to hear this. Looking at him, she only sees him look at her but she looks back.

"......So...d...do we have a deal?" he asked holding his hand to her gently but Ashley looks only to slowly reach out a hand to rest it on him.

"..W...we have a d..deal.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was a while back when he made that deal but as promised she kept her word. Keeping the inmates calm and since then no more fights has happened. But as promised, he would let her feed off of him but she did give him some herb teas using her demonic plants to help with his energy and give back what she took.

Looking quiet, she did get fed from him this morning but it was a lot more sweeter today. This made her lightly blush touching her lips to curl up hugging herself in the blanket he had made for her.

".........."

~~~~~Back at Prison T~~~~~~

"What the fuck do you say!?" The inmate that challenged the three ladies only got back talked by Kali who was really annoyed now. A few of the inmates were knocked out after being punched by Jinx and Ink since some tried to start a fight. And after Kali giving a sucker punch to one when he tried to grope her.

"Look, we told you a thousand times we are not going through with your stupid fighting challenge. Can't you idiots behave for once in prison!?" Kali was not in the mood for this right now seeing the leader's eye twitching annoyed.

"She's got a point though. Fighting isn't allowed on the prison yard. How about just doing some fun activities instead huh?" Jinx smiled at him.

"Yeah! I agree!" Ink smiled.

"Seriously? -_-"

"Yep!"

"You two.." Kali warns only for the inmate leader to growl thinking these women were making fun of him! He was one of the dangerous and toughest inmates here! If anything, these three women should be praising him!

Of course the Six claws saw this and seeing how this leader was speaking to her didn't sit right with them. In fact, they looked coldly at the leader wondering what the bastard will do. Even Denji was growling wanting to cut him up but Midoiriya held the other claws back.

Megumi was seeing this but saw Yuji now looking cold seeing this ape speaking to Violent like that. He crushes the can in his hand making Kisho tense.

"Easy Yuji..." Megumi warns but he was seeing him trying to calm down.

"Tch, You three are nothing you know that! Just because you proved a point here in the prison don't mean shit! What I see you three as are sluts for me! I should be the one making you three praise me for being the best in MY prison!" he laughed.

"Huh? But you don't own this prison. Warden Kinie ger does-"

"WHO CARES ABOUT THAT BITCH!! The only reason things get crazy is due to how many wild inmates come here! Don't you know that!" he said now looking to Ink but he saw her confused only to smile.

"Though, Maybe I can forgive you and your two friends if your willing to help us out with something?" he asked even daring to touch Ink's cheek. She blinks feeling him cup her cheek. This got the Six claws more angry but Midoiriya keeps them down.

"Midoriya.." Rin warns.

"...Easy now....they can handle this. You saw how they fight.....this is just going to be a show....." he said in a quiet tone but his green eyes were shooting daggers at this giant brute. How dare he touch her but he knew Yuji was even more angry now.

"So..what do you three say? Wanna rule by my side or maybe you can help me with some personal service?" he said.

"Uhhhhhh Not really. You really don't seem like my type and you can't get girls like that. Woman don't like doo doo heads like you when it comes to trying to hit on them like that. You make it sound like it's a bad thing." Ink said as the inmate tense hearing that.

"W..what!?"

A few snorts hearing that trying not to laugh as Kali sighed and Jinx giggled. He saw his group snickering but he growls at them. "Shut it you idiots!" he said seeing them hush up. "Look here you fucking whore, I will not be insulted like that so you better say sorry to me for that!"

"Yeah, she's not going to do that. Now I suggest you back off and leave her alone. Your starting to get annoying now. Or else you'll regret it." Kali said now annoyed but saw more of the inmates surrounding the three.

"Oh? And what are you three going to do? Huh?! Your just three women.....you should be under me and begging for me to make you my women! My bitches! Or better! My bed sluts! You should know better than to talk back to me!" he said.

Wait did this asshole calm them sluts!? Yuji did not like anyone insulting what was his like that. Even Denji was furious with this asshole saying that. Another didn't like that either in his cell but thanks to a little imp he heard and saw this.

"Tch, you bitches should know better. All women love to have a strong guy like me to fuck em and make them mine! So you should learn your place!" about to backhand Kali but as he tried, a hand stops him as he looks.

The cap Kali had on covered the upper part of her face but a angry glare was seen as she stopped his hand. He felt her grip his wrists while seeing her looking very pissed off. Her grip was deadly strong that he winces to be brought down to his knees like she was going to break it. What the hell!?

"Clearly you don't know shit do you? This is not a fighting ground and you should learn some respect when it comes to speaking to me and the other two officers. Unless you want me to take this hand I can by cutting it off I will..I tend to hold a pretty violent temper.." she snarled as his inmates backed up scared seeing this.

Seems he didn't know who stopped the fight that day due to being in detention. He had no idea what these three women were like. Dangerous. Deadly. And ready to strike if possible.

"D..damn you..b..bitches! Guys, do something!" he said as the inmates looks seeing Kali glare at them as a warning. Right away, a few tried to stop and get Kali to let go of him but they got kicked back hard right through the wall. Others tried to jump them but Jinx kicks and punched a few back hard.

Ink kicks some back right through the building. Others were watching in a nervous expression or some being scared. Just what was going on?!? These women were not normal!

"O.O;" The inmates slowly turns to look back seeing Officer Vanguard and Officer Violet were the ones that kicked the two but their expression were dark as their eyes were dulled scaring them.

"!?!" they sweatdrop scared seeing this. It was like a giant dragon was growling at them and a dangerous growling panther was ready to pounce. Tear them limb from limb.

Yeah, they backed up seeing this and some even wet themselves. When Kali saw the last one knocked out, she looks to the inmates.

"Now..does anyone else wish to start a fucking fight right now!? Or wanna end up like those idiots!" Kali shouted seeing the inmates now scared backing up. These three were insane!!!!

Jinx and Ink sighed but lowers their legs before looking seeing Kali look at him.

"Let me go! You made you stupid point you bitch! Just let me go!"

"Oh no, your going to be punished for this! Take this baboon inside to the isolation cell." she said seeing two officers taking him inside while the others that was his gang went off or was taken in as punishment too. The six claws and Yuji with his friends were silent seeing this. Yeah, those three were dangerous just like Kinie said.

At that same time...

"What the fuck is going on!?" The three women blinks hearing Kinie ger's voice. She just showed up but looks. "What happened!?"

"Nothing much, just one of the inmates causing a rucus!" Ink said smiling.

".......Ughhhh......you know what? Nevermind. Just...just try to keep it calm please. As for you inamtes, you have a few more minutes before heading back inside for the day!" she said seeing the inmates quiet as Kinie walks back inside.

"I wonder if she's alright. She looked upset about something." Jinx said.

"I'm sure she's alright I hope! Anyway, you guys heard that! Just a few more minutes!" Ink cheers happily with Kali facepalming shaking her head. What is with her happy attitude!? Near by, a imp was seeing this to know Rex saw.

He didn't like the fact someone tired to hit or touch Kali but he smirked knowing she can take care of herself. Even with someone so beautiful can be just as dangerous. He loved that in a woman but it tells he really wanted her to be his now. For now, seems he can't wait till their next meet up.

~~~~~~~~~Meanwhile in Northen State Penitentiary~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright everyone, time for lunch! Come out in a orderly fashion and don't try anything." Charley shouted seeing some of the inmates now leaving the cells and going about to eating some food. She along with Jason was seeing everyone in the female ward eating now. He sees Wong. Shea. Pratt. and Flowers eating quietly with the other female inmates. However, he was told that Inmate Akutagawa was still in her own cell as punishment for now. He was told she would get food as well but away from the others to stop any fights from happening.

".........."

"Do you think these maggots are going to behave this time?" Charlie asked Jason who sighed seeing the other officers holding batons in their hands.

"Don't know. Honestly, these women are pretty dangerous but could also start something resulting in another fight. Remember last year?" he said hearing Charlie sigh. Oh right, the blood accident that had some inmates killed. That was not fun to clean up.

"Don't remind me. Second, how was Akutagawa? Did you check on her?" she asked.

"I did..Still in her isolated cell but she should be eating though." He said.

"Hmmm..."

"I will be sure to check on her when I can."

~~~In Area E~~~~

"So that's what's up huh? Hmmm, I felt like more of these inmates were not as busy but hey, you guys know better right?" Matt smiled seeing one inmate knocked out with a broken bloody nose. He tried to start a riot in his area but Matt stopped it. They knew better than to start shit here. Even without sufferer the consequences. He sighed and drops the inmate when two guards goes to pick him up and drag him away leaving a blood trail from his broken nose.

"Anyone have anything to say?" he said seeing the inmates quickly looking back at their lunches eating like good boys. "Thought so." he laughed.

"Hmmm I wonder if Akutagawa ate something or did anyone bring him his food? Might have to check and see later." he said keeping guard.

~~~~IN area A~~~~~~

Willie was standing guard but he already had to stop two idiots from trying to start a fight. And two more from flirting with Officer Shrika. He hated these pigs but they wouldn't be any better. It's something that happens from time to time in this prison but being her trusted officer and partner, he would do anything to insure things ran smoothly. Right now, she was doing roll call to insure the inmates were here before giving lunch.

True, most of them were making eye gesters seeing how hot Shrika was only to get scared seeing Willie showing a murder expression to them. They stopped as she was done. "Alright, that's everyone. You boys can enjoy your lunch. Just behave yourselves now." she said holding the clipboard.

They said nothing going to do that with her sighing smiling. "Such obedient boys don't you agree Officer Watts?" she said.

"Indeed they are miss. Though..they seem to be more like horny dogs than anything." he grumbled angry but Shrika looks to smile, petting his shoulder.

"Now now, I know but they know better. Besides, it's nothing new. If they know what's good for them and I know they will behave..if not...that just makes it more fun to punish them later." she smiled but turns to keep a eye on the inmates with Willie beside her.

~~~~~~In area F~~~~~~~~

Sid was checking up some notes on the new inmates right now but she was seeing that most were eating lunch. Even Chuya who was still in his own cell right now. She was told the three that started something were kept away from the others till being released later on this afternoon. Or till they cool their heads. She already heard Inmate Chuya was shouting and cusing wanting to get out but knowing him he just caused more issues to happen. She shook her head knowing this was going to be something for her.

Even with Warden Osamu giggling like a school girl for the new adventures that will happen with the new inmates. What fun! Knowing this, a sweatdrop shows on the side of Sid's head feeling this was going to be something.

~~~~Meanwhile with Fin's prison~~~~~~

He was lost in his thoughts wondering what Kinie was thinking. Releasing those fallen maidens seems like a bad idea. Given they were dangerous just like Rex he was unsure on how to feel about this. The only one that can control those women were Rex and he's still in his own prison.

What would he even do? What could he do? Thinking about it, he might have to work on some plan or maybe speak to her. No, that would be risky but judging on how Winter was, she was the second in command so...maybe he can talk to her.

Standing up, he goes to leave the office to see her. Ahemd said nothing but wonders what was wrong. "Fin-"

"I need to speak to her. Ahemd, you do the same for Summer."

"Hmm? Why? Do you have a plan?"

"In a way...I'll speak to Winter first but I need to be sure she won't try to get out of here." he said but Ahemd sees him leave that the other remains quiet. What was his plan. Fin walks through the prison halls wondering what he will do but in the meantime the walk wasn't long.

He got to the prison cells again only to see that it still was quiet. He takes a slow breath but looks seeing her again. Winter was stretching while running her fingers through her hair. She only looked relaxed then Fin steps in signaling he was here. She didn't turn around only to lower her arms.

"Well, well, well.....seems I got a visitor.." she slowly turns around to look at him but he sees her eyes glowing within her cell to look at him through the cell.

".......Don't start with me Winter..." he warns only for her to giggle leaning against the cell bar doors to look at him. She was wearing a shirt with the prison pants but she only looks having some of her hair covering one eye to smile.

"Awwwww you don't wanna have fun with me today Warden? That's not nice. I was wondering when you would be back to play with me. Or did our last game scare you off..." she purred only for him to glare at her.

"Stop that! I...*sighs* Look, I came to talk........"

"Talk? Talk about what hmm? Did you miss me that much?" she asked reaching to rest one hand on his chest but he grabs her wrist to stop her.

"Just fucking listen to me. Stop with the flirting.."

"Who says I was flirting?" she teased to look up at him since she was on her knees to smile. "You seem a bit tense though Warden. Did you want me to keep you company?" she said to slowly lower her hand that he then grabs her other wrist to look down at her.

"Enough Already!" he said.

".........."

"Just.....I know you are a crazy minded female but whatever your trying to pull. I won't fall for it!" he said but she only smiled to look at him before she leans in to look at him. Their eyes meeting again.

"You say the meanest things warden Reer...I did say I would behave you just don't trust me. I can be a good girl...for a strong scary lycan like you. I say that..didn't I?" she said seeing him quiet.

"....."

"Besides, if you say that about me.." Suddenly, she leans in closer that their lips almost touched like she was going to kiss him again. "Then why visit me? You either want to talk to me.........or you want something else hmm?" she licked his bottom lip that he tenses to let her go but she was quick to pull him in close then suddenly kiss him on the lips. His eyes widen from the feeling once more of her soft lips as he feels her making out with Fin. He was trying to push her off but she had a good grip of his uniform while feeling her slip her tongue past his lips deepening the kiss.

In a moment, he breaks it to move back panting heavily while covering his lips but Winter only smiled to slowly lick her lips giggling. "D..damn it!"

"...Tasty. You really are fun to tease.." she said. "I can imagine my friend Summer having fun teasing your other officer too." she winks but looks to Fin. "But..if you want another one I could give you more..if you let me out~" she sings but Fin growls.

"ENOUGH ALREADY! Just stop it alright!" he said.

"Heh..you want me to stop.." she said but looks to him to smile. "Then make me."

Fin said nothing to close his hand in a fist then turn to leave the area. Winter sees him go again but she smiled. AT least she gave him a present to remember her by. For him, he was blushing red but trying to think.

'Damn it, I need to do something or she'll end up corrupting me. I can't be tempted! I won't!' he said walking off. In that time, Officer Jackal noticed him coming.

"Uhhh Hey Fin, good to-" He tries to talk but saw him walk by him and Officer Brooks who blinks worried.

"Fin?"

"Sorry Jaron I'm..I'm a bit busy but I'll talk to ya later!" he said waving a hand as he leaves but this confused Melinda and Jaron.

"...I wonder what that was about." she said worried.

"I Don't know..I hope he's alright though." he said seeing him leave. However, the two didn't know this with other inmates looking at them again as the other officers. They just go about keeping guard for now. As Fin gets to his office, he goes to cover his face with his hands trying to calm down. Damn her, she got another kiss again! Trying to calm his mind, he only looks to glare at his hands.

What was she trying to gain here? For now he'll just have to hope Ahemd won't fall for Summer's seduction. Or the other two who had her teammates.

[the-annotated-antichrist]

Act II, Track 06 - The Lions Roar

Song links: Spotify - YT Music - Apple - Tidal

In this broad, majestic track, we see the building master and his builders construct the temple-palace Seth has decided he wishes to reside in. It is clearly a labour of love - the builders speak of how they are "building hope for a future world", a beautiful palace with golden doors and glowing walls. This place is supposed to be an embodiment of the glorious destiny that Seth is leading humanity towards. The builders are glad that they get to participate and are doing their best.

I hear the rhythmic clanging of their hammers in the drum sound and the soaring vocals make me imagine the sheer size the building must have. The building master, by the way, is played by the same Kaj Hagstrand who already sang the role of the old president. It is not unusual for theater, musical or otherwise, that someone plays two roles, but if you're really attached to George Wyndham, then perhaps you will want to imagine that he has, somehow, found fulfillment in a new profession.

[Building master:] Towers that shall tremble not Will reach for heaven's hall And shall strike a chord within us Mighty calls that winds forgot Are the grace that's standing tall In the palace high for Caesar Seth [Builders:] Listen to the roaring voice, the sound of truth and stone When the sun comes up from another side of the moon We are building hope for a future world A temple full of stairs to a golden door where the lion's roar fills the air [Building master:] Gilded stars bid lovers wait Tomorrow they shall see what the shadows dark will bring us Glowing walls restoring faith All of which he's wisely sown And that safely he may call his own [Builders:] Listen to the roaring voice, the sound of truth and stone When the sun comes up from another side of the moon We are building hope for a future world A temple full of stairs to a golden door where the lion's roar fills the air Raising high Raising high Raising high Always Raising high - future tolling Raising high - angels calling Raising high - palace of dreams

I have noticed some contradictory information in the inlay and in interviews about BA concerning whether Seth is supposed to be "only" the leader of Europe or of the whole world. I choose to believe that it's only Europe for a variety of reasons. It would be very difficult for him to extend his rule to the whole world in such a short period of time, no matter whether he embarks on some kind of neo-colonialist venture or tries to convince the rest of the world with arguments to follow in Europe's footsteps. Vast parts of the world have adopted traditional modes of existence again - it would be very hard to contact all these scattered groups in a few months (in the Bible the Antichrist rules for less than four years), much less integrate them into Seth's system - provided they are even willing, which I would doubt. After the last millennium, there would probably be a very healthy skepticism about Europeans with visions of salvation and a better world among people on other continents. And then there's the whole religious angle of his reign, which non-Christians might have a hard time getting behind.

Why do I bring this up now? Because Seth is moving to Jerusalem, which would be at least at the very edge of his realm, provided the Eastern Mediterranean is somehow counted as belonging to Europe. There's a lot of religious symbolism involved in this move for the very Christian Europeans, but it's probably a bit impractical for the ruler to be so far away from most of his realm, especially since they probably don't have air travel unless a demon carries you on their back. It fits Seth's grandiosity though. What do supply chains and lines of communication matter when you are the divinely chosen salvation of the world? To Seth, living in a place with such huge religious importance would probably be more important than any practical considerations.

[catachan-jungle-fighter]

John Geist as a Dark Souls NPC

Introduction: "Hail and well met, watch your step around here... I've set out traps to keep the beasts and more hostile fellows away from me."

If you set off a trap on the way to meet him: "Are you alright? I heard one of my traps go off a few moments ago. If need be, I'll treat any injuries that happened."

If you are wearing Geist Clan Raiding Leathers: "Hail Brother/Sister, it's a hellish place we've come to, eh? Far from the grace of the Good Mother where our soul can go to rest."

If you are carrying Geist Clan Blades: "...How'd you get your hands on those blades? Those aren't meant for those outside of the Clan to carry, hand them over and I won't have to claim your life for wielding those."

If you are wearing Swamp Rat Clothing: "Hail Cousin, good to see a Swamp Rat out in these Forsaken lands, sit and I'll bring out some food and drink so we can have a Festival."

If you are carrying Swamp Rat weapons: "You better not have killed any Swamp Rat's for those weapons, if you found them then feel free to wield them because the Rat's would be pleased to see their blades ending more foes."

If you strike John: "By the Kind Mother, what the fuck are you doing?" (Non-Hostile at first hit)

If you continue attacking: "Well, I'll end you here and now then Mad Man."

-

John's Quest: He wants the help of the player in hunting down three traitors to the Geists, each one carrying stolen relics of the Jungle Geists in the form of high-tier weapons, each of them having been declared Exiles and unworthy of the Grace of the Mother.

The first of the Traitors is a former Master Smith who had murdered a member of the Matriarch's Circle, the woman having stolen the legendary Warhammer of their Clan before her Exile, and now has been sentenced to death for the theft of a weapon belonging to someone who helped shape the Geists into what they would become in the future.

The second of the Traitors is a former Raid Master of the Jungle Geists, who had been exiled for the action of not purging several individuals who'd gone on to kill many more souls before they were killed by a Adjutant of the Matriarch, this man having then murdered the Adjutant and stolen his Axe which was his sign of office.

The final one of the Traitors would be someone John saw as his brother, a former Clan Huntsman that had turned against what the code ordered of them and let his targets flee the justice ordered by the Matriarchs, his 'adopted' brother having taken the blades and armor of their shared father figure with him as he was exiled.

-

After the Hammer is handed over: "The Hammer of Movark... a legendary weapon among my Clan, thank you for aiding me in reclaiming this from the hands of that Exile, may she rot without returning to the Mother's Embrace."

If the Hammer wasn't handed over and you lie: "Ah... so the Exile lost/destroyed/hid (depending on your lie) the Hammer... by the Mother, that Hammer is a relic of the Founder of the Geists... I'll think of something.

/

After the Axe is handed over: "The Axe of Tears, a weapon that has ended many lives in the duty of the Matriarchs, I knew the Adjutant that once wielded this weapon before they were murdered... a good man and a better warrior."

If the Axe isn't handed over and you lie: "DAMN! These Exiles are disgraceful... I got to hope I can recover at least one thing, or else I face my first and only failure."

/

If you've lied the first two times/Pre-Battle: "I'm... I'm not too sure about this now... I've never felt doubts like this about the Will of the Matriarchs... but now I'm not sure I wish to harm my brother... my friend."

If you handed over the relics the first two times/Pre-Battle: "This Final Exile shall have to face justice, they are a fool who betrayed the Circle and deserve their end, at the very least they should be glad I'm the one handling this and not any of the others... they'd extend it for a week of just suffering."

-

You hand over the final weapons and the armor/Post-Battle (lies): "I'm going to stay here... he may have lost the Grace of the Mother, but I'm going to observe the Rites of Passing for my Brother, go on ahead I'll find you later at my camp." You see John kneel down beside the body, gently moving the bloody form and trying to make it look more presentable.

You hand over the final weapons and the armor/ Post-Battle (Truth): "Damned Fool... my duties in these lands are complete now with his death and the recovery of my Father's armor and blades, I will have to return to my Clan soon but I will prepare something for you at my Camp as a gift before I leave." You see John walk away from the body of his fallen brother, uncaring of the remains.

-

(Truth ending): You enter the camp to see John dead, a blade driven through his heart and a message besides him that reads 'I thank you for your aid in these final Rites of my Clan, we were the last members of the Geist since the Fall of the Gravehold... may these weapons aid you far more then they did my Clan, I have purged the curses from their steel so feel free to wield them as you wish'.

Arrayed around his body are the weapons and armor you helped him recover from what you now know weren't Exiles, but those that fled with what they could carry of their former home, each of them shining with a light unseen before.

(Lies Ending): You enter the Camp to see John looking devastated, the former gregarious warrior is silent and still compared to how he was filled with life before, and when you ask him what's wrong he says "I've failed in my duties... I was ordered to give the last Rites to any who fled from the Fall of the Gravehold, but I've not found any of the relics... I've failed in my duties and I've failed my Clan..." John stops speaking as he points to a chest, and upon opening it you see a shield that seems to have been shaped from the scales of some great beast.

"The Shield of the Gravehold, a Relic that I carried with me all the way to these cursed lands, far from the Mother and her embrace. It'll aid you far more then it could me, I've already removed the curse from it and added what blessings I've could to it." John says as you pull the Shield free of the chest, the broken warrior turning his back as he examines the blades and armor of his Father, sighing softly to himself as he removes the curses from them as well with ease.

"Come back to visit me and I'll have some equipment and armor ready for you, after that... I'll find something to do with myself."

-

You offer John a place to stay: John accepts it with a ease that makes you uncertain, until you notice how he had began to weep silently at the thought of being near other people who'd wish to be near him.

When you return to your Shrine, you find John engaging in a discussion with the Firekeeper, the two discussing various things about each other's faith and the way they lived before you arrived in their lives (or unlives).

John shows you the final gift he had readied for you, the armor of the man he saw as a father was polished and painted in a dark blue, along with the blades of his Father that had been sharpened to a razors edge and polished to a mirrors sheen.

You didn't offer John a place to stay: You find John outside the Final boss arena, the man covered in infected wounds and near death, but before his death he gives you something...

The Curse Breakers Gift (Amulet)

A Gift from the final member of the Jungle Geists, it was given to Mark him as a outcast among his Clan by the Matriarchs, for his very presence was enough for the Curses that hid the truth of things from those he called his Kin to begin to weaken and fade and for his touch to shatter them completely. It seems to carry some traces of his ability, making it harder for you to be cursed.

[smt4flynn]

An old incomplete emetwol fanfic that I should finish because I think the idea is fun but should probably rewrite before I do so. I don't remember if I've reposted it before.

I wrote this after beating 5.0.

She knows not what compels to her stay behind, in this grave of his own making. She doesn’t know why she still holds on to her weapon, even as the Scions express relief and freedom from the oppression that Emet-Selch lays upon them all since even before they stepped foot here. Why, then, does she hold on to her blade, pointedly ignoring G’raha Tia and his apology? She stares at where he fades away from existence, voice as deep as his utterance of his true name, begging for naught but one, minuscule request:

remember.

And how is she to?

-

They cannot convince her to retreat back to the Crystarium, where she may rest her body and ignore the screaming aches of her body. She stands atop the spiralling tower of the now silenced Amaurot, the bright sun glaring down upon her. By her side does her sword stay stabbed within the floor, shield cracked in half a good distance away.

His was not an easy fight. The truth, of all truths, is that Cyresia should have perished beneath his heel. Should have swallowed his dark as he swallowed her light, until her body is melting and oozing into an incomprehensibly violet puddle and he still retains his stolen body.

Yet she remains behind, with a grief inexplicable, a sorrow that belongs not to her, yet is hers all the same. Below, far below, where the shades cannot grieve and their words muddle from repetition, no one shall truly remember. Even to those of the Crystarium they will not know who he was, is, having only caught sight of him whenever he comes to bother the Warrior of Darkness – the Crystal Exarch’s dearest friend.

Surrounding her are his remains, the hum of his life force still beating and harsh. The white auracite is no longer its strange, off-beat shade, having taken on his deep, lavender hue with the golden tinge. If her eyes slip shut, she can almost feel his immense presence beside her, surrounding her, lips curled upwards into a condescending smirk before he is to mock her with lighter words and tired eyes. Yet when she opens her eyes, she is still atop the tower.

Unbelievably smooth and still made of the sleekest marble, with swirling, hypnotic designs reminiscent of something he must yearn for. What is it that Hythlodaeus calls him once? The Greatest Architect of their Time... or at the least, very recently, of course.

Now only these humming, thrumming violet auracite pieces are all that are left of him. Not a voice. Not a piece of art. Not even the sprawling, decaying city of Garlemald can stand as testament that he once lived. That they all once lived.

Wind blows, lifting up the pale, frayed blue cloak of her armour and swaying it amidst its unseen waves.

The shards of auracite do not move.

-

“I see you have finally returned.” Y’shtola’s voice is the first thing she hears while loitering outside of the Crystarium gates as two pairs of footfalls follow behind her, stopping a short distance away. The guards exercise wisdom as they stand far away, allowing her to stare up at the sun-lit sky, where it will slowly dip down and bring ‘bout the moon and the stars once more. No more does Hydaelyn’s essence blot out the sky like a guillotine’s blade. She does not turn to face Y’shtola and the second guest, not when the sky above demands her attention.

It is Alisaie who speaks next, her voice struggling with barely restrained curiosity. “It has been a while, friend. Mayhaps you are willing to share what it was that had you occupied so? There was naught but fading memories there, nothing that you should wallow in, at the very least.”

A sigh slips from Y’shtola’s lips when it is only silence that responds to her, an elongated quiet that stretches over them both, and Cyresia only turns to face her when she stands beside her. She glances down at the sword in her hand, scathed from the sheer rage of Hades, then cranes her neck to take note of the missing shield.

“Did you bring it with you?” she says. That catches her attention proper, Cyresia looking over to Y’shtola with glazed eyes and a blank, uncomprehending expression. “Your shield.”

A shake of the head and Y’shtola rubs at her chin thoughtfully, looking up at the sky alongside Cyresia to see what it is that captivates her so.

Never before does she consider a sun’s light to be so mild but, after all that they have suffered through, the roads taken, is it no surprise that Hydaelyn’s essence would be worse than the ever-endless, ever-burning sun?

“Did you find what you sought after?”

The sharp intake of Cyresia’s breath is all the answer she needs, yet she appreciates the way she looks over to Y’shtola with something so quiet in that gaze of hers, and lets dry lips part to speak, “no. And I doubt I ever will.”

-

Her room in the Pendants is finally no longer under the Crystal Exarch’s watch, a title that he comes to resent more and more as Cyresia looks away from his eyes and speaks conversationally about this and that with him as though he is a stranger. She claims no ignorance to the way his body tenses up or how his ears flatten, tail too stiff for movement. Perhaps she ought to try and mend the tension, apologize to him for her aloofness, yet she cannot bring herself to care. Her focus is centred, entirely however, upon the weight within her bags -

Often it does not bother her, deliberately enchanted so that it is as weightless as a single, small feather. Yet, it is the knowledge that sits upon her back, a boulder unmoving, instead of the contents of the bag itself. Glowing purple sprawls all across her desk – paperwork strewn about on the floor to make room for all those pieces, housing him.

Can an Ascian truly die? How many have they claimed to have truly killed, only to have simply stored them away? She does not know. The skittishness inside of her whispers on how even the certainty of Lahabrea’s death may be naught more than a ruse. Perhaps all of this is like an extended rest for the Ascians, sealing them away elsewhere so that they may rest their eyes and open it to return but a few years, months, weeks later.

Were Y’shtola to hear this, she will not hear the end of the her unwanted wrath. She will not hear the end of Alisaie’s tantrums and Alphinaud’s tiring attempts at negotiation, at comfort. Scrambling to find peace where he knows there will be none. Will Urianger scheme once again? Will Thancred lash out once more? Will he look at the auracite on her desk, see her contemplative stare, and decide to strangle her in anger?

What the Scions want matters not to her. To be frank, it never has. Yet, here she is. Here she is. On the whims of those she claims not to care about.

Her elbows land on her desk with loud thumps while she falls on the chair, sword clattering noisily to the floor and she grapples at her hair, forming tight clumps and dragging them enough to hurt. She grabs her pouch of job stones and throws them away after she shoves her paladin stone within, rummaging around soon later for her gear and tools so that she may repurpose the gleaming violet that stares back at her all accusatory.

Almost, very almost, she can hear Emet-Selch’s – Hades’s snide comments, can imagine him grasping at her shoulders and bends over her to peer at the auracite, at his corpse. She sees, in the corner of her eye, the way his teeth gleams bright and beautiful, well-kept and pearly whites.

“And what is this that our little hero has herself busied with?” she hears him say now that she has her tools spread hap hazardously on the desk, some on the ground, and she bows her head down, as though that will hide Cyresia away from her imaginary friend. “nosy doe. Do you not think that your friends will not notice?”

She picks up one piece of auracite between her gloved fingers, grabbing at her loupe, and ignores the humming of the ghostly Emet-Selch over her shoulder, whose breath does not tickle her skin and hands do not ruffle her hair.

The amount of aether radiating from this, his cage – still it is impressive, even when struck low and torn into pieces.

Nearly dropping the auracite in her haste, she rushes to grab at a notebook, to try and figure out what she would do to be able to fashion something out of this. Some part of her snorts, amused by the gruesomeness of this all, and for a moment it sounds exactly like his voice.

-

The first thing she tries to make is a paladin’s shield. It feels fitting that she take a being of darkness and void, of shadows and shade, and use his aether crystallized to try and make something that will benefit her, once a paragon of light. A moniker she never once asks for yet has it foisted upon her without her say, people around her a flurry of motion and movement, of pleads and demands for her to save the world.

Perhaps the irony is that she never desires to come this far, never cares before for all the Calamities before and that were to follow, having lived long enough to see them all yet remember little, whereas Hades acts on the plan he himself sets forth, he himself cares for. “You have not had reason to live before,” he whispers in her ear while she sets about attempting to melt ingots and reshape them for her needs, interrupted sometimes by ethereal, guiding hands that mould its shape into something unacceptable, “and still you do not.”

She does not have room in herself to argue against him. She turns her head and there is no one behind her. His presence hums on her palms, where her hands lay flat among her tools and materials, fingers curling into claws atop her desk before she looks down. His auracite glows at her, almost sympathetic in how it flickers lightly.

A dry laugh slips from Cyresia’s lips. How moronic she is, she thinks dully while returning to her work, refusing to shy away from the tribute imagery that her mind’s eye produces for her. Throughout it all, the auracite dims and glows intermittently, and still she hears a hum in the back of her head.

-

Returning to the Source is an entire ordeal, having to aid those who cannot, whose souls fray at the seams, and for a moment she is envious. Envious, and more than her fair share exhausted. But it is not a life as the Warrior of Light without rest being wrest away from her, even if she holds to her heart the quiet secret that she never has been Hydaelyn’s chosen.

“let them dream that you are, so that you can inspire hope? By the subject of ballads?” she closes her eyes where she lays upon the bench, hands folding on her belly while she waits. Inside of the Rising Stones, Alphinaud and the other Scions recuperate from their forced journey over to the First. Within rests G’raha Tia’s younger self, the naive and boisterous boy who demands knowledge of where he comes from, why his eye is so strange and why his memory is not his own at times.

There he rests as well, where Tataru is no doubt eager to fashion him a new attire. Her shield rests within its crystal, still yet to be revealed to the rest of the Scions, and still incomplete without its sword to be its sister. Her battered, burnt sword is all that she has for her paladin arms, though that is not to say that that is the only thing that was damaged from the backlash of a mighty foe.

Her greatsword is in desperate need of repair as well, having suffered the worst from beneath the attacks of a main claiming himself to be the new Warrior of Light. All her other weapons are in various states of disrepair from wilful neglect, though she knows she must fix them soon if she wishes to obey the pleas disguised as demands from the Scions.

Footfalls have her ears twitching. She opens her eyes just in time to catch the newly returned G’raha sitting aside her, fingers curling at the edges of the bench. He still wears his old outfit, yet to have Tataru fashion something new for him, though she knows how quickly her little lalafellin hands can work. She looks up at him with question in her eyes and he looks back at her sorrowfully, lips parting and closing repeatedly, as though he has lost his ability to use words.

“You have not been the same since your confrontations with Emet-Selch and Elidibus.” he says very gently, looking at her like she is something out of a fairy-tale. “... and Y’shtola has been noticing that there is another aetherial signature... not on you, but at the same time, on you. But near you. Somewhere.” he wrings his hands together before he looks away and up at the sky. “It is still so strange,” he hums and cracks his knuckles, “to look up at a sky that is neither of the First’s nor plagued with the Light.”

Cyresia lets her eyes slip shut. “To see the sun you abandoned, alongside the promise you made to me what felt like just yesterday.”

He blinks and looks down at her in surprise, confusion, before realization settles in. “Do you mean the promise I made of entrusting the ability to understand the technologies of Allag to our future generation?” G’raha says playfully and Cyresia cracks one eye open to give him as best an accusatory stare as she can. The smile on his face is so gentle, so light, that unease creeps into her veins and she deprives herself of sight once again. “A generation that would never come to be at the hands of Emet-Selch.”

“because of Black Rose, what a pity nothing came of that, but I do not doubt that there are more in reserves. I was always so very thorough, after all.”

“Yes,” she says, her hands still folding atop her stomach, fingers curling a little before she lets go and lets her arms fall to the side, “that it would kill me too – I wonder what Calamities would have happened in succession. The flooding of Light into this world, and then... what?” she hears G’raha shift on the bench, accompanied by some very light squeaks, and he stays quiet. “You would not say.”

“I would not relieve the trauma of it.” he says in lieu of anything else and she says naught else after. At some point, she shifts, murmurs a complaint before her breath, before she takes advantage to use G’raha as a pillow in retaliation for taking up space, and to ignore the humming at the back of her head. To focus, instead, on the way he gets flustered and embarrassed, all while she hears Emet-Selch, so close she can hear him breathe on her, hum against her skin.

-

His auracite breaks into so many pieces. So many that she fears she will lose them all, in the cracks of her heart, in the gaps left behind. She lays them out on her desk within her borrowed room in the Rising Stones, staring at how they glow and flicker, still so very alive, and she bends her head down to try and hear something from him. All she hears is the way the aether still lives, pushing against the many pieces of him left behind.

Though, of course, there is one piece missing now. Her shield leans against the table, bearing the crossed arms of Zodiark’s statue, as though in grave or giving in to a deathly rest.

She tests the door to her quarters several times, making sure it is locked and placing an enchantment upon it to be even safer. How is she to explain why she has an object of worship to their enemy in her grasp? One that has her aether writ all over it, for she puts her heart and soul into making sure it is to perfection. Someone like Y’shtola, perchance even Urianger, will be able to tell that there is another signature present. One that belongs to a man who should be dead, or at the very least, sealed away so that he may never return. She buries her face in her palms, knowing full well that she cannot get to building, crafting here.

The Scions will get curious. Asking questions about what it is that has her attention so wholly when the threat of Zenos and Fandaniel loom ever outside still. From what they have learned, they wish to bring out about the Final Days, that which doomed and ended the Amaurotines eons ago. Brought by a man with little regard to life, whose voice is as sweet as lilies even as he says naught but uncaring truths and malicious goading.

Yet, here she sits, curled over fragments of a body, and here she cries, shoulders shaking with sobs that have been denied for an eon.

-

Though she should, realistically, be worrying over the implications of an Ascian attempting to hold the great-grandson of a dead Ascian, she finds that she cannot bring herself to care. Across from her on the small round table sits Emet-Selch, elbows on the surface and face cradled by his hands. He smiles all the way to his eyes that glimmer like coal. She stares through him, fingers tapping on the round table, and she tries to ignore the half-finished sword on her desk.

“you could never let go.” he says. “you would give up that which you loved, but you could never let go of it. You would give it away.” he leans close, a hand coming to brush at her cheek. “You never could leave well-enough alone.” he guides her back to her workbench, brushes his gloved fingers across one of her tools, and smirks down at her. “no one on this world knows how to bring about the Final Days. You have all the time in the world.”

-

Thancred sees her first.

The Scions are to have a meeting with everyone involved to see what can be done about this unknown threat, especially given that said threat is currently in an assumed dormancy stage; no one knows how to bring about The Final Days, not even the one known as Fandaniel who gleefully sings he does. He would have brought it about by now, she thinks, bored. She is yet to make another weapon, fashion another accessory, anything from the remaining auracites now that she has fashioned herself a sword and shield.

There it rests upon her back, the blatant symbol of faith to he who will swallow them all, he who sings the low hum of darkness, he whose essence takes over an entire shard and turns it into a nightmare manifest. A mistake that leads to the greater calamities that will shake their foundation and rob them, where opportunities are seen immediately by the Ascians at a chance for home.

There, upon her back, is a sword far too reminiscent of Zodiark’s statues, looking like the gems and crystals within the Chrysalis, a place in which Minfillia near deliriously delivered descriptions and explanations of to the rest of the Scions.

And so, it is Thancred who sees her first. Sitting on a chair with no one else around, back facing the door while an elbow rests on her crossed knee, and the tribute to Zodiark burning bright on her back.

-

[ghastlyscribbles]

a throne is settled in the middle of the room, drawing all attention with the way it seems to attract and absorb all the light in the room. it is both the brightest and darkest object in the glorious throne room. she is all alone as she kneels in front of it. she remembers the man that belongs on this throne, she can visualise him walking in. she smells his robes as he walks past, hears the click of his heels on the tile. in her minds eye he settles on the throne. cold and regal, but slumped playfully across the throne. the light flickers off of his white crown, his dark eyes fixed on her. his voice sounds as tears slip over her cheeks- wait, no. that isn't part of the scene… was she… crying? she touches her cheek. it's wet and cold, the tears still streaming. they drip to the marble under her as she cries at the foot of his throne, so unbearably devoid of him. the ghost of cold hands wipe away her tears, the loneliness slowly washing away. she isn't alone. wait, she isn't alone? who-? she's on guard immediately, looking around with sharp eyes. the feeling of company unsettles her greatly, in a city supposedly dead. there is no one in the hall with her, as far as she can see at least. she knows very well that company does not always linger where she can see it. she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, heightening her intuition. getting up slowly she turns her face to the throne. "show yourself." they are the first words she's spoken in months, fitting that they should be spoken here. there! a flicker on the throne. an apparition fades into her sight. it almost seems… like it belongs there. regal and… cold. the sudden drop in temperature as he takes shape steals her breath, ever so reminiscent of how his physical presence would. after a few seconds she is staring into the eyes of the man she lost. the grief stabs through her much the same way the biting cold of his presence does. he is settled on his throne in the same lopsided way he was when he lived. his dark eyes are on her, but no light reflects off his white crown. she looks at him, studies him. trying to look for the subtle differences Death made in the man she loved. the way no light seems to touch him anymore, the coldness in his attention. the way instead of the pull she feels a push emanating from him. his unnatural physical coldness, complimenting his emotional coldness. he had always been beyond her reach, but Death had made him distant. he reaches out, silently beckoning her. as always she answers his call, never to respond. she stumbles over, hesitant in her beliefs. his touch is a whisper on her cheek, barely grazing her skin. but, oh. it is all she needs. she firmly grasps his cold hand, pulling him close. no words are exchanged, neither is body warmth in their deaths. bound inextricably by their feelings the Lovers reunite, spiting death. neither of them should be possible, but love defies laws. the King kisses his Knight in an Empty, Desolate, Dead city. like their souls, their bodies meet. hands desperate for confirmation of their counterparts existence. tears, cold and impossible, fall. Hands are gentle in their hold and touch. the Embrace is endless, the both of them not ready to let go. He'd never admit it, but Losing her was his nightmare. his love is rough, but all consuming. he holds her to communicate the feelings neither of them spoke, back when they were alive. She holds him in return, whispering all she should have said when blood flowed in her veins. The Lovers kneel where they stood, all those years ago. Despite neither of them having body warmth any longer, their forever will be warm. The city will never live again, and the palace will stay for the two of them to haunt. but never again will their ground be Empty. When in need of safety and an intangible warmth, travellers will find the Dead city. The King and his Knight watch over any who seek a peaceful night. all visitors shall never need for anything, for whatever period of their stay. for this is the City of The Lovers, sharing their fate in Death.

[eldoria-radio]

File 9

Good evening,.. Dear listeners. We would like to apologize for the long break, but since our usual host is… Preoccupied at the moment, we were in desperate need of someone to actually host the show. So, it's a pleasure to be here. So without further a do, welcome to another episode of “Whispers in the Aether”. 

Today I have brought you a strange document. People do strange things before their deaths. It is said that a lot of people just know before it happens, some talk about out of body experiences, or a strange kind of peace that makes the transition to the beyond easier. It doesn't appear to be the case for this one though. This letter belonged to a man who passed away young, and perhaps he knew something we couldn't, as everything surrounding this letter appears strange. So, I shall read you the file on this case.

A letter rests beneath the documents.. It is addressed to a dear loved one and said to be delivered today. Words unspoken that would never be turned into harmony now. No note shall ever fill the void they left behind, the wounds they left unmended, and the vengeance they allowed to grow. The letter reads as follows:

“Dear [/////],

As I sit down to write this letter, countless memories of our time together flood my mind. When you were around, you helped me through some of my darkest moments, and I'm beyond sorry I couldn't return the favor. Your strength and support were a beacon of light during times when I struggled to find my way.

When you left, I was beyond devastated, though I tried to move on, to no avail. The void you left behind was immense and irreplaceable. Every corner of our home, every familiar spot in our town, echoed with the absence of your laughter, your voice, your presence. I still think it's unfair how life treated you, that you had to leave us, but I do hope you're happy now. I hope that even with that short life you lived, you could find pride and peace. Your legacy won't be forgotten.

There are days when I find myself sitting in silence, just remembering the times we spent together. The world seems a little dimmer without you here, but I take solace in the belief that you are in a place far better than this. Your kindness, your spirit, your unwavering courage—they all live on in the hearts of those who knew and loved you.

May you bring wonder and joy for the rest of your life in heaven. I like to think that somewhere up there, you are smiling, watching over us, and guiding us in ways we cannot yet comprehend.

I wish I could have told you all this in person. I wish I had more time to show you just how much you meant to me, to us all. But perhaps, in some way, you already knew.

With all my love,

[/////] 

P.S. I'm writing this from a place where time and pain no longer exist. We are both now beyond the reach of this world, and while I could not stay to see through the promises I wanted to keep, know that in spirit, we are together again. I know we are reunited now, it was inevitable with the wishes we made. I simply hope you can find it in you to forgive my wrongdoings eventually. I am deeply sorry.”

This letter never found who it was addressed to. It can't, as the recipient doesn't appear to be a real person. There is no record of them ever being around in the first place, and yet the address matches that of an unsolved murder from many years ago. Regardless, the author of this note seems long gone, so… I'm not sure there's much to follow up on here. 

The murder that happened in this house years ago was a John Doe case. The family who lived there at the time wasn't home when it happened. They were questioned later, though nothing much came of it. The family consisted of just the two parents and their one adopted son, who later went on to write this note before going on to.. I'm not sure I can say that on here. Well… at least I'm not sure I'm too comfortable saying that. He's dead now, for all I'm willing to say… 

There were no records of anyone else in the house at all, and according to the family their son had never been the most social. Doing further research on the person it was addressed to, there was nothing. The name brought no results at all so.. Perhaps we're not supposed to know. 

Wow I really see how Isa can get so carried away with this. I've been rambling for a hot minute now. Alright, let's wrap this up then. Thank you so much for tuning in tonight. This was Whispers in the Aether. My name is Nishantha Silverbane, and you're listening to Eldoria Radio.