#i have around 11 k discarded words on this little mess

[shady-tavern]

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange. 

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked. 

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open. 

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries. 

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house. 

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed. 

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake. 

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well." 

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage. 

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them. 

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing. 

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden. 

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway. 

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out. 

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward. 

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people. 

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs. 

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

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[kujakumai]

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

--

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

--

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

[rainsonata]

Doppelgänger 1/15

Chapter 01: Another World

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none Rating: K+ Word Count: 5,624

Summary: It was like looking into a mirror. What happens when one’s reflection talks back and throws uncomfortable questions? El Search Party struggles to find entrance into the Demon Realm, but Dominator has a plan. 

AO3 Link / FF.NET Link

— [Chapter 01] [Chapter 02] [Chapter 03] [Chapter 04] [Chapter 05] [Chapter 06] [Chapter 07] [Chapter 08] [Chapter 09] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] —  

Class Notes:

Canon Path: Knight Emperor, Aether Sage, Daybreaker, Rage Hearts, Code: Esencia, Comet Crusader, Apsara, Empire Sword, Doom Bringer, Ishtar and Chevalier (Innocent), Bluhen   

Alternate Path: Rune Slayer, Oz Sorcerer, Anemos, Furious Blade, Code: Ultimate, Fatal Phantom, Devi, Flame Lord, Dominator, Timonia and Abysser (Catastrophe), Richter

Rune Master

Once the El Search Party parted away from the ruins of the ancient capital for their next destination, everything was starting to look blue. It gave the Rune Master a headache to how everything down to the soil had traces of cyan, the color of toothpaste and hurt his eyes. Due to the influence of the El, it was difficult to tell if night time came because the forest glowed regardless of what time of the day it was. He was going to lose Richter at this rate because the trees were the same shade as the priest’s hair.   

The El’s presence attracted monsters and anyone else that wanted it for personal gain, including the corrupted monsters that were once Henir’s followers. Their numbers ever-growing, it felt wrong to leave them to the El Masters despite being told it to. Running away from the enemies didn’t sit well for Rune, but half of his friends wanted to visit the demon realm. For different reasons, but at least they had a common interest, which was all that mattered because it was better than sitting around and waiting to see what the enemies next objective would be. At least until they figured out how to reach Demon Realm.   

“What is this?” Abysser asked. The demon squinted at the strange device, plated in black material similar to the Henir monsters they fought in Elrianode. Blue light flickered through the minuscule windows covering its sides and shone as his teammate tinkered with its coding. “This machine you claim to work...”

“Of course it will,” A man in white didn’t look up from his machines, his gaze glued to holographic screens that never seemed to run out of power. Legs crossed, Dominator kept his balance sitting on Dynamo and hummed as he worked. “I figured out the basis of how it functions. All we need now are new coordinates.”

“That’s great!” Rune was impressed by to how quick his friends were in utilizing the little material they had in Elrianode. Rubbing his hands together, he grinned, “See? That didn’t take long!”

“Who are you trying to convince?” A woman dressed in purple kicked her shoes for ruffled frills to shimmer under the night sky. Oz watched her breaths evaporate into the cold air and ran her hand through her hair with an exaggerated sigh, “You’re the one rushing to leave.”

Rune’s cheeks flushed to the same shade of red as his hair, glancing down and avoiding looking at Oz, who was definitely snickering over his embarrassment. What did the Oz Sorcerer know about what went through his mind? The El may have increased his powers, but being close to a powerful energy source left static in the air that made Rune self-aware of his powers and feared setting something ablaze if he wasn’t careful. He huffed and maturely stuck out his tongue at the dark mage before turning his head to look at the device in Dominator’s hand.  

“How does this work?” Flame scratched the back of her neck, “Say it again for some of us to understand.” 

“It was once connected to the Heart of Henir and will take us straight to the Demon Realm,” Dominator wasn’t fazed by the Flame Lord’s uncertainty. One could say he was beaming on the concept of potential interdimensional traveling, too eager on the new discovery to be bothered by small questions. He chuckled, “No need to thank me.”

Flame had her knuckles placed under her chin for support, a thoughtful expression on her face. Rune could see the wires turning as his sister processed the new information and accepted the explanation with a nod.  

“And this will transport all of us?” Blade asked.   

“Where is this sudden skepticism coming from?” Dominator looked up from the screens to see the mercenary gingerly tapping the surface with his Nasod arm. “Are you doubting my perfect plan?”

“Last machine,” the Furious Blade deadpanned. “Bugs.” (1)

“You remembered that?” Dominator covered his mouth, but Rune could hear the amusement in his voice. “Anyway, that’s in the past. Things will be different this time.”  

“What machine?” Rune asked. How come Blade got to tinker with Dominator’s inventions while he was pushed out for ‘messing with important data’ when he tried to break into the scientist’s lab? He leaned over to see numbers and letters running across Dominator’s screen, too quickly for anyone aside from the scientist to understand them.

“It was supposed to kill mosqui-”

“If it could transport enough monsters to fight us, it can handle a dozen of us.” Fatal Phantom said with nervous laughter. “How long will it be until it’s done setting up?”

“As soon as you all stop talking and let me work.” Dominator complained, but the effect was lost in a smile as if pleased by the sudden attention by his teammates. Scanning over the screens for last-minute adjustments, he mumbled to himself, “What else?”     

“Elsword,” a male voice called. “There you are.” 

“Ain!” Rune spun to see a blue-haired man in white robes with a somber expression. Spreading his arms in a gestural hug, he exclaimed, “I was starting to think I lost you back there with the Elrianode monsters!”

“You remembered me,” Richter blinked, as if the celestial couldn’t believe it.

“Of course I do,” Rune frowned at his friend’s statement, confused to why that surprised the priest.

Richter has been bringing up that topic more lately - memories, missions, whether or not he would be remembered. He thought after near corruption from Henir and apologizing to Timoria in Elrianode, Richter would be more at peace with himself. Quiet as ever, Richter didn’t express it, but his eyes crinkled to Rune wrapped his arms around his friend into a tight hug to let him know the redhead was there for him.   

A pair of mechanical wings came into view from Rune’s peripheral vision, drawing his attention to see Code: Ultimate with Moby and Remy. Arms to her side, the Nasod queen’s forehead was framed by a black helmet matching with the rest of her armor, wings folded in to make space for Rune to approach his teammate. Cold and stoic, her face betrayed little as the knight searched for answers to why Ultimate looked so stern.   

“Heya, Eve.” Rune chirped and let go of Richter. “Are you here to remind me about something?”

“Yes,” Ultimate said. Side eying Dominator, who was still mumbling numbers to himself, she placed a hand over Rune’s shoulder and nodded to Richter. “If you mind, we need to talk. Away from everyone.”

“Both of you?” Rune was flabbergasted when she ushered him to the side, closer to the edge of the woods where the party chose as their new resting area. His hands growing warm at thought of what could have nudged Ultimate and Richter to team up. “What is it?”

It must be serious if they confronted him on an individual basis, was it about Demon Realm? But why Ultimate too? She had no reason to be affected by demons, but it was Richter that worried Rune. The priest was surprisingly impulsive around demons as evident when he lost control in Feita and disappeared. Richter retained his composure since then, but after what happened between him and Timoria last week…   

“The El has been temporarily restored because of your interference.” Light flickered in her eyes, but Ultimate blinked and it was gone, “It’s stable for now, but there isn’t much time for us to find a new source before that it becomes unstable again. When entering the Demon Realm, it’s best that you let us take care of the demons.”    

“Huh?” Rune tilted his head to the side.

“Consult us,” Richter said. “Think before you act.” 

Rune opened his mouth in protest, “If this is because of Solace.”

“It’s because you do things without telling us first,” Ultimate snapped. “You discarded yourself without considering the consequences or how the rest of the group would respond. I won’t hesitate in fighting if you fail to reassess yourself next time.”

Spears drew out from Ultimate, long blades emerging from her back and pointing at Rune to make her point. He snapped his mouth shut at first sign of anger from the Nasod queen, grumbling as he did so, feeling Richter’s daggers drilled into the back of his head.      

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you Eve?” Rune gave her the best puppy eyes he could make, searching for hints of joking or sarcasm from Ultimate, only to see cold ones staring back.

“We have alchemists on our team to keep you alive.” Richter said, yet Rune found little reassurance in those words. 

It was naive to believe what Rune did would be dropped in a matter of weeks, but it stung that the more stoic of his friends showed strong emotions. Richter’s disappointment was like a sharp blade through his chest, feeling guilty if the celestial had nothing to say and mouthed an incohesive phrase in an unfamiliar tongue.

Uh oh… The priest must be furious if he was swearing in another language.

“What are you guys doing?” Anemos appeared between them. Pulling Rune away from Ultimate, who still had her weapons out, the elf groaned. “We’re about to depart and you three are fighting?”

Withdrawing her spears, Ultimate lowered her head. “I apologize. I won’t let this happen again.”

Rubbed his temples, Rune interjected. “It’s nothing. Tell Add we’ll be ready in a bit.”

Unconvinced, Anemos had her hands on her hips. “Just don’t lose your heads over petty fights.”

“I’ll make sure Elsword is safe,” Richter promised the elf.

What happened to the threats on keeping him alive, speared or not by Ultimate? Sparks emitted from Rune’s fingertips at the earliest signs of annoyance, a newfound emotion as of lately. He could take care of himself fine! It was clear that his friends were worried for his safety, but he didn’t need to be coddled like a child. Maybe it was a bit of pride on his part, but it served as an aching reminder to how far he had to grow if he wanted to be taken seriously.

Rune sighed. Nothing will be accomplished if he didn’t keep pushing forward like he always did. No use in dwelling over small things like pride. It wasn’t his style. Guilt surfaced once he recognized the sadness in Ultimate’s features.         

“I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people,” she uttered. “That’s why I’m upset.” 

That snapped Rune out of his trance and looked at Ultimate in distraught. He had known her for years since they have met in Altera, but this was the closest thing she had come to admitting her emotions out in the open. Confusion hazed his mind as he swallowed down the guilt.

“Now I do,” Rune admitted. “That’s why I’m trying to make up for everything.”

“You don’t need to change,” Richter said. “Stay the way you are.”

Looking at the two, Rune smiled. Their words held weight, but their expressions and body language told another story. Tense from his impulsive decisions, yet they stayed because they trusted him and fussed over him. He had underestimated how much his friends valued him. How he be blind?

A pair of purple cat ears poked from the side of a small bush. Rune blinked and turned his head again, but there was nothing. His paranoia told him it was another corrupted monster, but sneaking around was out of character. Rune sighed and rested his chest over the base of his sword. 

“Thanks, guys.” Rune said with a smile, “Let’s get going before everyone wonders where we went.”

 Comet Crusader

Cannon laid down by his side, Crusader leaned over and wiped the edges clean with a cloth until it shone. Black soot and ashes smeared over his hands and some fell on his white armor. It was a routine for the guardian of Hamel, one that required diligence to make sure he reached all the corners and sides of the cannon. The destroyer was easily taller than him, but creating and testing new functions to stay up to date with their fighting situation kept Crusader on his toes.

“Chung?”

He looked up to see a man glancing over at him with concern. Wearing a collared shirt with long sleeves cuffed at the end, Cavalier’s hair was tied into a thin ponytail trailing behind the half-demon. Balancing on one hand was a blue tray with a tea kettle and pristine teacups in a neat stack of twos or threes. If Cavalier hasn’t spoken up, Crusader wouldn’t have heard the butler approach him. 

“Did you get any sleep?” Cavalier frowned, “You look exhausted.”

Wiping his brow, Crusader laughed. “Hardly. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Setting the tea tray onto the grass, Cavalier offered him a cup. “Would you care to join me for tea then?”

Crusader nodded.

Using the tea tray for a flat surface, Cavalier held the tea kettle up and carefully poured a cup to offer to Crusader before pouring one for himself. The butler followed the younger male as he grabbed the sugar bowl to drop a couple of sugar cubes into his tea. White clouds turned into mist inside his cup as Crusader stirred the contents with a spoon. Its aromatic smell invited him to take a sip.   

It wasn’t the first time he had Lanox tea. Apsara’s herbal teas had a sharp and bitter taste that reminded him of the earth on summer mornings, but Cavalier’s had a clean yet sweet taste at first sip. He let the light and spicy aftertaste linger on the tip of his tongue as the butler spoke.

“You’re committed,” Cavalier eyed the destroyer on the ground. “You should be resting.”

“Ain healed me,” Crusader grew defensive. 

“Even magic can’t heal scars.”     

Small tugs and stinging sensations strained his muscles at a moment’s movement with Crusader setting his teacup down on the tray to pause. With limited resources, potions and elixirs exclusive were weaker and took longer to heal injuries that once recovered within hours. Injuries weren’t new for him, especially with stronger enemies waiting for them at every turn, but it pained him in know he was dragging the team down for being hurt. 

Burnt marks over his chest were from Nephilim Lord. They were clean cuts, making them easier to clean and bandage every few hours, but the pain inflicted held a constant icy burn over the days he spent healing. He knew the Lord of Spirit Asylum was influenced during the attack, but bitterness lingered as an afterthought. Once again, someone or something reached their goal before they did. How much longer could they do this until the gap between them and their enemies was too much?

“I’m not angry at you,” Cavalier said with kindness. “It was a tough battle against Nephilim Lord. You’re not the only one that got hurt.”

“I know,” Crusader stared at the crimson mist hovering over their campsite. “This really is the Demon Realm… Everything here is different than what we’ve encountered before.” 

Demon Realm, or as the dark elves dubbed it as Varnimyr had contrasts. Red mist against blue trees and there were numerous moons instead of the suns Elrianode had. Eternal nights overtook the region with many of its inhabitants using their body or external means to brighten the dark forest with fluorescent light. They have found a way to flourish with limited resources. 

Crusader had found his strength in recent battles against stronger enemies the longer he fought, but was it enough to withstand future enemies? Far from the El’s influence, his powers have weakened and to his astonishment, Cavalier and Ishtar were affected as well.     

“I suppose it’s different than what we’re used to,” Cavalier agreed. “But that didn’t stop us in Elysion or Elrianode, did it? We sorted out the misunderstanding with Nephilim Lord and are closer to our goal than before.” 

Crusader wasn’t one to ponder over his friends’ histories out of respect, but with Cavalier, it was hard not to be curious, if not wary. What was a human like Cavalier doing with a former demon queen and what could have happened to have them act as one unit? Their fighting style synchronized in a way that couldn’t have been achieved without magic involved, leaving much to Crusader’s imagination to why or how.

No, that was none of his business! The El Search Party were at their most vulnerable in a place outside their comfort. Those two have stayed long enough to have plenty of opportunities to backstab them if that was their intention. He needed to have faith in the Knight Emperor’s judgment in letting Cavalier and Ishtar be a part of their group. However, no amount of loyalty in his closest friend could undo the ongoing suspicion he had on a pair of demons, even if one of them was half demon.     

“You’re right, it’s too late to have doubts after coming this far.” Crusader was apologetic. “I’m sorry for taking up your time to attend to my needs.”

Cavalier said, “I need to be here for my friends too. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I guess so,” Crusader broke into an awkward smile. “Where’s Lu?”

Taking his cup in one hand, he held it to his eye level. A unique design of intricate lines cut into the edges to form into flowers native to Lanox, it was a true work of art. He admired the effort his teammate had put into making tea in enemy territory when they should be rushing back to Elrianode to report their findings to the El Masters.

The butler sighed, “Still asleep. It’s been a long week for all of us. I won’t bother her.”

“There you are!”

Purple hair obscured his view with color matching eyes narrowed with displeasure. Cheeks puffed out and bright pink, a look of distraught as Aether Sage folded her arms inward to hug herself. The white jacket she wore slide over her shoulders and the bow on her collar was uncharacteristically uneven today. One might think the woman was hit by a hurricane by the two strands of hair standing over her roots with the rest of her hair in a mess of disarray.  

“Have you seen Elsword?” Aether asked out of breath. “He’s gone!”

Rubbing his chin, Cavalier shook his head sullenly. “He offered to help me with the chores this morning, but I saw him just an hour ago. Have you checked his tent?”  

She sighed. “I told him not to move around after that fight. Why doesn’t he ever listen?” 

“Let me go look for him,” Cavalier said. “He might be training with Raven again. Why don’t you and Chung search the surrounding areas?”

Lowering his cup onto a tea plate, Cavalier set it down to grab a platter of pastries over to his left. Croissants, fruit tarts, and bread rolls stacked on top of one another with slices of preserved meat in between. Placing inside a small cloth bag for storage, it was enough food to last them for a few meals.  

“You don’t think he’s going to be gone for that long, do you?” Alarm rose in Aether’s voice in response to seeing what was meant to be their rations. “He’s been fine before.”

“We are in Demon Realm,” Crusader placed his hand on his destroyer for support to stand up. Quiet grunts escaped from his lips as he struggled to find his footing, leaning against his weapon. “Even with the dark elves on our side, demons are waiting for us.”

“I know that,” Aether snapped. “That idiot better not do something stupid again.”

One moon hung over his shoulder with light soaking into their path as he and Aether walked past their campsite in search for their missing teammate. Radiant colors danced off the fungi and fauna lining up the dirt road, glowing faintly in time to the chilling breeze sending shivers down his skin. An eerie silence occupied alongside their heavy footsteps with quiet sighs and breathing from either of them. With better luck, maybe Cavalier could find Knight before they had to consider researching past familiar territory.      

“Was there something you needed Elsword for?” Crusader asked.   

“I was going to check his bandages,” she said. “Ain can’t always be there for him.”  

Blinking a few times, he looked at her in confusion. “I suppose so. Did he say anything about where he went?” 

“Elsword said he needed to talk to the dark elves again,” Aether groaned. “That was this morning. He should have been back by now, but his stuff is still gone. He needs to stop acting like he’s alone in this, we’re here too!”  

“I don’t think that’s why he does things alone.”

“What do you know what about Elsword thinks?” She was hard-pressed to let Crusader back down, demanding answers and glaring at the guardian of Hamel.

Despite knowing her for years, it surprised Crusader to see the mage initiate interactions with Knight, who often buried her head into books with a sandwich in hand outside of battles. What brought on the sudden change in tune? After rescuing Knight from the El, something happened to make Aether stay close, her attention always drawn back to the redhead. Harsh words from before softened into mild comments on Knight needed to look after himself more. Her tough exterior always wavered to reveal a gentler side for her friends as evident when she approached Crusader to help. She was stubborn about showing her emotions, but she didn’t let her pride stop her from seeking help. It was something Crusader admired about the mage.      

If Knight went back to talk to the dark elves, he couldn’t be far, but the village’s location remained unknown. Unless he had gone back to talk to Edith, the dark elf elder who granted them an ear to listen to their side of the story after the El Search party was caught by their sentry guardians. Were the dark elves still there? Crusader saw the tents waiting for them in a distance. What could be on Knight’s mind to seek the dark elves first instead of his friends?

“What am I doing losing my temper with you? You’re not Elsword.” Aether rubbed her temples, “I shouldn’t have said any of that. It’s just frustrating feeling like he left us again.”

“Well, he does what he thinks is right, even if it means going through demons.” Crusader chuckled, “We’ll catch up to him.”

“Then we better hurry,” she tugged on her white gloves to tighten them with her stuff between her arms. “I don’t want to look like a fool because he did all the fighting without us.”

Striking her staff overhead, water danced across her feet from the puddles and morning dew, lifting her feet to leap as the stream turned into solid ice. Awe and wonder stole Crusader’s concentration as Aether landed on her feet and slid over the frozen path with her hair flying from behind. Thin layers of frost brushed over the ice in powdered snow, water droplets surfacing before freezing again from the cold air. Flowered patterns overlapped as Aether slid forward to form a path with magic emitting from her staff.  

Mud mixed with thin layers of ice made it difficult for Crusader to skate without losing his balance. Aether didn’t seem to notice his struggle and was already several meters ahead with her head held up high. Following after his teammate, all Crusader could do was to make sure he wouldn’t lose the mage in the fog.

  Flame Lord

“I’m back!”

Out of breath, Rune waved his arm over his head, red hair mopped over his head in disarray not unlike a bushfire. Walking from behind him were Richter and Ultimate, maintaining stoic expressions on smooth features as the first hint that they weren’t of human origin. Their walking movements had the same grace as angels. Anemos was the last to appear with her arms crossed with mild frustration from the way she bit into her inner cheek. Did something happen back there without her knowledge?     

“Took you long enough,” Dominator scoffed. He tucked his bangs behind his left ear, only for it fall back and cover his eye again. “If you walk off again, we’re leaving you behind.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ultimate gave the scientist a cold glare. 

Attentive and precise in the smallest details, the care Dominator placed into a device that wasn’t of his creation impressed the Flame Lord. It reminded her of the kind of care she placed into cleaning her claymore in between battles. According to Dynamo, it has been over an hour since Dominator made adjustments to stabilize it. There was something mesmerizing in watching him work with something Flame had little understanding of.  

Half of the El Search Party grew restless from the wait and drifted away in groups of twos and threes. Phantom sat on the floor to clean his phantom shooters. Blade and Abysser recounted their supplies in preparation for the upcoming journey, a quiet discussion among themselves with Timoria giving them tips on rationing food. Devi said little, but the Haan warrior held a steady gaze when their eyes met.  

“Do we all have to hold it to activate it?” Flame asked. From what Blade had told her, an earlier invention held a similar function as to what Dominator was currently working on.  

The scientist’s brows rose, “It should work as long as we’re all touching each other while one of us holds the device.” 

“So we should hold hands,” Rune grabbed the scientist’s arm and cheered. “I’ll be your partner!”

“Don’t decide things for me without my permission!” Dominator protested.

Flame’s heart fluttered as Dynamo blinked pink (“It’s magenta!” Dominator huffed.), her skin patched with sweat not because of the sparks threatening to escape from her warm palms. They were doing it. Demon Realm was minutes away from their reach.

Entering the strange dimension demons considered to be home was something she had anticipated for years. It was a strategic decision to initiate their attack on the source of their troubles in Elrios. Yet her heart couldn’t stop racing on the idea of threading into enemy territory with limited resources. Timoria was a demon, but how useful could her knowledge be if they were going to be outnumbered? Learning the mechanics on how the place functioned, its origins, and going there was surreal for the fire knight. 

“Add, the machine.” Flame breathed. Turning her head over to the rest of their party, she cried. “Grab someone’s hand and don’t let go!”

Quick to act, Phantom searched for Dominator’s hand with his silver shooters hanging off his belt and his arm extended. Ultimate followed suit and let Timoria and Abysser hold hands with the rest of the El Search Party. Blade was with Anemos and Richter, hands hooked together to form into a chain behind them. At the end of the long line was Oz, standing her ground as the gravel around them hovered from the earth shaking. Black gloved hands grabbed Flame’s with no hesitance, a familiar grip leaving little surprise in seeing Devi next to her. 

Flashing light burned her retinas as Flame struggled to keep them open in search for red hair. Concern was as foreign of a concept as raisin cookies were to Timoria, but it was a strong emotion driving the ‘what ifs’ running through her head. Flame reached for Rune’s hand in the blind. Gravity pressed against them as static encaved the group and lifted them off their feet. Fear latched onto Flame’s subconscious with the knight struggling to not to fall over with nothing to grab onto. Her fingers slipped from Devi’s grasp and gasped.  

Everything stopped. Her weight brought her back to earth with the Flame Lord crash landing with her face first. Bleh! Demon dirt!

Her sides hurt when Flame rolled over with her elbows on the floor. She dug her hands into dry crumbled soil, a dusty brown tinted with red. She took deep breaths. The rustic foreign landscape reminded her of Lanox, but the humidity was that of Feita. Mist hovered over the blue and purple-hued grass, or was it because it was nighttime with two (no, three!) moons overhead. Demon Realm looked different than what she imagined.

Strong and steady, claymore maintained its balance as Flame drew out her weapon, a black blade bearing markings in gold writing. Flame held her guard up with her legs spread apart with claymore in one hand and fire building up in her other. Gold sparks flared up and burst into flames from her blade at the feeling to someone tapping her on the shoulder.

They were faster and twirled to disarm her, pulling claymore away and grabbing her arms, pinning the fire user and bearing tiny fangs into a wide grin.   

“Looks like Add’s plan worked.” Devi balanced claymore with her fingertips before tossing it back to its owner. “Did I surprise you?”

“I could have burned you!” Flame protested. 

Devi giggled, “Hopefully that’ll be the last time we do that.”               

It took Flame a moment to force her temperature down to stop the heat from traveling up to her face and leaving her tongue-tied on being snuck on by Devi. Black bangs obscured one side of Devi’s face with the back of her hair was tied into a tight bun by a multitude of hairpins. The longer ends of her dress fanned out to touch the ground.    

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” Flame tucked claymore back to its strap. She strained her eyes for Oz’s iconic pointed hat or Richter’s radiant aura shining like a lighthouse between the misty terrain. Timoria and Abysser could avoid arousing trouble because they were demons, but what about the others? She held faith in her friends to stay hidden until they were reunited, but where was Rune? He wasn’t one to keep a low profile for long.

“You’re eager to fight,” Devi said with glee. She took Flame’s hand, “Your hands are getting hot.”   

“I’m not,” Flame felt sick. She needed to find Dominator and give the scientist a talk for alternative traveling methods that didn’t make her want to throw back whatever Furious Blade made for lunch. “Have you seen anyone else from our group?” 

“No.” Concern graced her pale features, “What’s putting you on the edge?”

“Nothing,” Flame clenched her fists. “Let’s find everyone and go.”

“Do you really think this will be resolved that quickly?” Devi asked with no humor in a dark chuckle. “Our poor luck won’t let that happen.”

Blue light flashed across the sky like fireworks and rained overhead. Fire whistled and burst into violent flames for all to see, trees trembled and tectonic plates shifted to loosen the soil from beneath. She struggled to keep her footing as she charged to the chaos, covering her face and coughing. The smoke and fire made it hard to breathe. Each step grew heavy as she dragged her foot over to where she heard voices. Flame didn’t check to see if Devi was behind her. 

Between a grove of trees were monsters with extra limbs and moved around mechanically, but they were too fluid and organic like to be a machine. Blue web-like veins etched through their bodies and illuminated the destruction they left behind. How did the Elrianode monsters follow them into Demon Realm?

Orange light blazed from behind, Devi throwing herself through the air and her spear pierced into a Skin Splitter. Blood blotted out from the monster through its armored skin with an inhuman screech. Mutated monsters crawled around them and hissed in response to the hot fumes created from Flame’s palms, all of them disintegrating into ashes from the contact of her fire. Runes showered over the monsters to set ablaze. 

“Sis!”

Rune’s voice rang over the chaos. Scars decorated his exposed skin with the redhead beaming.

“Elsword!” Flame cried.

Behind him was a creature that towered over most humans and had a multitude of long appendages as limbs to support its weight. Glossed armor-plated around its “shoulders” if that was what one would call them and had half a dozen eyes moving and blinking all at once. Metallic appendages shot out and curled around Rune’s arms and legs, pinning him to the ground and limiting his movement. His pupils were dilated with the beast reflecting off the lights of his eyes.

Flame raced to find a way to climb onto the monster and pull her brother out, but someone else beat her to it.

A harsh breeze picked up, two shadows in the form of Timoria and Abysser appeared to slam their bodies against the Spatio Reaper and causing it to tumble, putting out the fire hazard created by the Sieghart siblings. Silver bullets hit the creature in the chest just below from where Rune was positioned. A young man in plated armor pursued after the creature with pistols at his arsenal. Anemos and Phantom Phantom!          

“Ignis...” Fire enclaved around the red knight. “Crusher!”  

Fireballs hit the Spatio Reaper’s exterior, melting away a thin layer of its armor and dripping out an unnatural blue liquid from its pores. Attacking it did little to slow down its sluggish but persistent movements that caused the ground to shudder while Rune squirmed in its grasp.

“No!” Flame choked on blood and saliva. Her legs were heavy lifting them and forcing herself to stay upright. Smoke and fire hindered her vision. Where was it taking Rune? “Must keep going…”

Her eyelids grew heavy and everything faded to black.

 Notes:

“Bugs.” (1) - Raven was sent back in time in his webtoon “Company” Double Crow when he touched Add’s invention designed to kill mosquitoes by sending them back in time. Yes, Add invented such a thing. 

Author Notes: Please like and reblog! Leave a comment or tag your lovely thoughts! I've been so excited to write this fic and make it work to write 24+ characters interacting with each other. I had fun writing from everyone's different perspectives and hope to upload the next chapter by next month or so. Thank you @dezimaton for beta reading!