Welcome to Gaia! ::

The room was faintly lit, showing two figures inside this particular room of the prison in Arajudia. Kione had his summoning tome open, staring evilly towards Chama, who was looking around and realizing that he had no allies on his side. The rest of his troops were busy fending off the escaped prisoners that didn’t go after him. They didn’t even care about him because he was a burden to them. The druid’s eyes widened as dark magic formed around Kione’s hands, calling forth his minions to do his bidding.

He wasn’t about to let this get to him as he opened his flux tome, and sent dark magic out to strike down the closest minion to him. He was trembling in fear because this summoner was twisted. He had originally shown a nicer side, but this was true darkness inside a person. How someone could harbor this kind of darkness and live, Chama had no clue. He just continued to send off Fluxes towards the minions that Kione was summoning.

What Chama didn’t realize was that Kione was just using the forces he was summoning as bait. Each minion that was destroyed was slowly building up and giving him more magic to use. He had expected Chama to destroy the minions that advanced towards him. As he closed his summoning tome, he pulled out a tome of much darker power: Fenrir. He started to chant, as the power of magic flowed through his body. The grin on his face grew farther and farther, till he was at the point he truly seemed demonic in nature.

He pointed his hand towards Chama as he continued to chant the incantation, the dark magic forming a skull around Chama’s body. He looked at it, scared even though he had resistance to this. All he had was a staff and a lowly tome to defend him, and that hadn’t done him so well. As the dark magic struck his body, he let out a loud yell of gibberish, falling to his knees as his body started to light on fire, and caused him to bleed from the inside out. He tried casting another flux spell as his eyes were slowly closing, his vision fading before his eyes. By the time he raised his hand, he felt his strength was gone. It was taken by the dark power of Fenrir, and he knew this was his last moment alive.

--Belzayne

"BOYO!” A small white critter shouted from the higher floor.

At long last, Bozo had finally found Master. Never would Bozo think Master would be found in the middle of the battle, a battle where all the humie from different countries would come together to battle against one man-humie who wore weird-looking eyeglasses around his eye. Oh, what was Master doing in this battle? Seeing humie making angry faces, waving their weapons as barbarians, and making loud noises was scary enough for Bozo. In addition, the humie all battled against One-Glass Man. Didn’t Master sense that One-Glass Man was bad? This man-humie was reeking in evil and Bozo didn’t like bad things.

“Boyo!” Bozo shouted again at Master, waving Bozo’s ears as arms to get Master’s attention. However, Master didn’t hear or see Bozo. Why Master didn’t hear Bozo? Was it that loud noises that Master didn’t hear Bozo? Was it because Bozo was too far for Master to see? Bozo needed to get Master’s attention so they could get out of danger. Master’s safety was in trouble.

Bozo quickly rushed over to where Master was, but those humie were blocking Bozo’s path. Humie were running madly toward the One-Glass Man on foot. Sky-lizards and beautiful donkeys were making noises and moving around. There were big flashes of bright light and loud bang noises too. This was not safe for Bozo to reach Master.

Not wanting to become a flat pancake by those humie’s feet, Bozo jumped off the higher floor. Using Bozo’s long ears as a flying spinning top, Bozo flew over the humie’s heads. Now where was Master? Master had to be somewhere among these humie.

Before Bozo could find Master, something crashed into Bozo.

“Boyo!” Bozo cried as Bozo hit the floor. Bozo felt hurt. Bozo had a headache. What was that? What crashed into Bozo? Why was the floor shaking? Oh yeah, Bozo almost forgot that humie were still running, fighting against One-Glass Man. Bozo needed to get up and get away from humie’s feet. Bozo didn’t want to become flat pancake.

Bozo shook Bozo’s little head to rid of the headache, but later stopped. Shaking Bozo’s head made Bozo dizzier. If only the ground wasn’t shaking and the noises were gone, then Bozo would feel better.

Wait… What was that?... Was that… A laughter?

Bozo looked around. Where was that laughter coming from? Bozo didn’t see anyone laughing. Bozo saw humie and One-Glass Man screaming, yelling, and making loud noises. Sky lizards and beautiful donkeys made loud noises too. Bozo could even see Turban Man’s face up-close, who was too quiet like a mouse, making scary face and loud- Wait a minute, shouldn’t Bozo be worried about becoming pancake? In fact, how could Bozo see Turban Man’s face so close when Bozo was on the ground?

Bozo looked down to see that Bozo wasn’t on the ground, but floating in the air. Bozo let out a small cry while waving Bozo’s ears as arms. It then took Bozo a moment to realize that Bozo wasn’t using Bozo’s ears to fly. Bozo let out another cry. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. Bozo needed Bozo’s ears to fly. Then what made Bozo flying?... Could it be that Bozo was developing a new power? Maybe Bozo should test out Bozo’s new power.

But before Bozo could try out this new power, Bozo suddenly felt Bozo’s body flew backward fast and hard. Bozo let out a terrifying scream. Bozo tried to run, but Bozo was still flying backward, unable to gain control of Bozo’s body. Then Bozo felt a sudden sharp turn and another sharp turn.

“BOYO!” Bozo cried in tear. Bozo wanted to stop flying. Bozo wanted to get back on ground. Bozo just wanted to be reunited with Mast-

CRASH!!

“Boyo…” Bozo muttered when Bozo’s body finally crashed landed back on ground hard, Bozo’s head buried in the dirt. One of Bozo’s legs was hanging up in the air, twitching from all the flying Bozo was unable to control. Now Bozo was even more hurt, had a bigger headache, and felt dirty from all the dirt. And that laughter. The laughter was more louder that Bozo could hear it through the-

!!!

Bozo struggled to pull Bozo out of the dirt. After being freed from the dirt, Bozo shook Bozo’s body to remove the dirt off of Bozo. Bozo then looked around. Bozo could see that Bozo was far away from the battle, where all the humie were continuing battled against One-Glass Man. Well at least, Bozo didn’t need to worry about becoming pancake by humie’s feet. But where was the laughter coming from?

Before Bozo could scurry off to investigate, Bozo heard laughter from behind. Suddenly, Bozo felt Bozo’s body being lifted off the ground. Oh no! It’s happening again! Bozo squirmed to get away, but was unable as Bozo struggled in the air. Quickly, Bozo was spinning in a 180-degree turn. When Bozo was stopped spinning, Bozo suddenly saw…

Two beady eyes?

Bozo moved Bozo’s head back to get a better look. Standing before Bozo and laughing was another creature. If Bozo was able to move, Bozo would see that the creature standing before Bozo was a fat and fluffy squirrel. The creature had all white fur except for that Q-like marking around that eye. From the looks of it, Mr. Fluffy Squirrel’s marking looked just like that One-Glass Man’s glasses. Not to mention, Mr. Fluffy Squirrel had the same bad aura as One-Glass Man. Could it be that Mr. Fluffy Squirrel had connection with One-Glass Man?

“Hey! Hey you! Mr. Fluffy Squirrel! Is this your working? How about putting me down?” Bozo shouted at Fluffy Squirrel. Mr. Fluffy Squirrel gently wiped the tear from its eyes while calmly ceased its laughter before replying to Bozo.

Oh so Mr. Fluffy Squirrel’s name was Valí. And Valí wasn’t a squirrel but a Felchinchilla, whatever sort of creature that was. However, Valí refused to put Bozo down. This made Bozo upset.

“Boyo! Boyo boyo boyo!”

Valí made a soft squeaking reply. Master? Fluffyball had a master too like Bozo?

“Boyo boyo boyo boyo boyo.”

“Squeak squeak squeak squeak.”

So Bozo was right. One-Glass Man was Fluffyball’s master.

“Boyo! Boyo boyo boyo boyo boyo!”

“Squeak squeak squeak squeak.”

“Boyo boyo! Boyo boyo boyo!”

“Squeak squeak squeak arf.”

Oh…. Fluffyball did not just say that. That made Bozo angry. Though unable to move closer or away from Fluffyball, Bozo moved Bozo’s head slightly to the back right and swung Bozo’s head around, letting Bozo’s ear smack against Fluffyball’s cheek as if it was a hand.

“Boyo boyo boyo!” Bozo said it with a huff.

Fluffyball stood still where it was after being smacked by Bozo. It wasn’t long until Fluffyball let out a small smile and gave a few grunt noises to Bozo. Wait? What did Fluffyball mean flying test?

“BOYO!” Bozo screamed when Bozo’s body gave a hard jerk as Bozo’s body went flying backward again. Bozo frantically screamed as Bozo continued flying wildly. Bozo didn’t like this type of flying. It made Bozo unable to move, unable to control where Bozo wanted to go, and it was moving too fast. Bozo didn’t like to fly fast. It scared Bozo.

Before Bozo could let another tearful scream, Bozo felt Bozo’s body automatically stopped. Just when Bozo thought that Fluffyball had finally had its fun, Bozo’s body suddenly shot up toward the sky. Then Bozo was stopped flying up in mid-air before Bozo was falling down fast and later flew up again. Up and down, up and down, Bozo continued going up and down at rapid speed.

“Boyo!” Bozo cried at Fluffyball as Bozo was flying up for the umpteenth time. Bozo struggled very hard to gain some control, but Bozo was unable to stop it. Bozo didn’t like it. This was not fun. This was very rude of what Fluffyball was doing, tormenting Bozo in this endless bully.

Just when Bozo thought Bozo would be flying up again as Bozo continued to fall, Bozo suddenly crashed into the ground. Bozo gave a weak moan as Bozo’s leg gave a slight twitch. Despite that Bozo’s body was hurt and Bozo had a very bad headache, Bozo was happy that Bozo was no longer flying. However, Bozo had a feeling that Fluffyball was not done.

As Bozo struggled to get back on Bozo's feet, Bozo heard Fluffyball speaking to Bozo. What's this? Bozo was no match against Fluffyball? Okay, so Bozo didn't know how powerful this Fluffyball was. Bozo had never met Fluffyball before, so it was unknown what sort of power Fluffyball had except making Bozo flying. What Bozo knew was that Fluffyball was a very bad squirrel. Bozo needed to get away from Fluffyball and find Bozo's Master. Bozo hated fighting and Bozo didn't want to-

Wait. Fluffyball was continued talking? What did Fluffyball say? ... What? ... No... No, Fluffyball wouldn't... Oh Fluffyball wouldn't dare. That made Bozo upset.

Not happy from what Fluffyball commented, Bozo quickly charged at it, not caring that Bozo was feeling hurt and weak from being crashed and having headaches. And although Bozo knew well that Bozo didn't know what power Fluffyball had, Bozo refused to let the fat squirrel hurt Bozo's Master. That ball of fluff needed to be stopped.

But as Bozo was about to headbutt, Fluffyball moved aside, letting Bozo running passed it. Before Bozo could stop, a big rock suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Bozo tried to stop, but it was too late. Bozo crashed into the rock, letting out a cry of pain as Bozo slid down to the ground. Bozo now had the biggest headache and pain that Bozo ever felt. This made Bozo wanted to cry. Bozo wished someone was there to kiss Bozo's boo-boo away.

Suddenly, Bozo felt a shadow looming over Bozo. Bozo looked up to see Fluffyball standing, its beady eyes gleamed with sinister. If Bozo's body wasn't aching with pain, Bozo would be shaking in fear, unknowing what Fluffyball would do to Bozo.

Just when Bozo thought Fluffyball was about to do something, a loud booming voice was heard. So loud it made Bozo wanted to roll Bozo's ears up to muzzle the noise. Where was that voice coming from? What was that voice talking about? Why did that voice sound so scary?

Curious of where that voice came from, Bozo looked behind Fluffyball. From what Bozo saw, Bozo saw that the One-Glass Man was struggling, having difficulties to fight against the humie. The humie were still continued battling, raising their weapons and charging at One-Glass Man. At the opposite side of the battle, Bozo saw a tall woman humie with feathers. Was tall woman humie a bird-woman just like Birdman? No, that humie had no wings like Birdman. But whatever that Feather-humie was, that humie was giving out a bright light and Bozo saw that some of the humie were glowing with the same bright light color.

Why were the humie glow like candle light? Was it that Feather-humie who did it? Did the humie know they were glowing? Was the Feather-humie a friend of One-Glass Man? No, the humie had the same light as Feather-humie, so maybe Feather-humie was against One-Glass Man. Maybe Feather-humie was a good humie just like some of the humie Bozo made friends with.

Just then Bozo heard squeaks. What was this? Fluffyball was going to help One-Glass Man to destroy the humie? But Master was with the humie, meaning Fluffyball was going to kill Master. Bozo couldn’t let that happened. Not after finally finding Master for so long.

Bozo struggled to get up as Fluffyball scurried off to meet Fluffyball’s master. Bozo had to stop Fluffyball from meeting its master. Bozo’s master would be in danger if bozo let Fluffyball help.

Determined not to let it happened, Bozo rushed after the ball of fluff. Bozo’s body was screaming in pain from running, but Bozo couldn’t stop. Bozo didn’t want to be along without Master. Who would feed Bozo if Master was not around?

Unbeknownst to Bozo, the same light that Feather-humie had began to glow around Bozo. Although Bozo didn’t notice there was light illuminated Bozo, Bozo felt something strange. For some odd reasons, Bozo felt like Bozo had lots of energy, not even tired one bit. Bozo’s body was no longer aching with pain. And Bozo’s headache was gone. What had happened? Why Bozo felt rejuvenated? But whatever it was, Bozo had no time to investigate. Bozo needed to stop Fluffyball.

When Bozo finally caught up to Fluffyball, Bozo pounced. Bozo used Bozo’s ears to wrap around Fluffyball as Bozo used Bozo’s teeth to hang onto Fluffyball’s fur. Suddenly, Bozo felt the bucking and hopping from Fluffyball, trying to get Bozo off of it. Bozo clung on tightly as much as possible. Bozo had no idea of how to stop Fluffyball, but Bozo was able to distract Fluffyball from meeting its master.

Fluffyball continued to buck and roll, trying to get rid of Bozo, but Bozo refused to let go. Bozo’s ears were wrapping Fluffyball tightly, but Bozo’s ears were not long enough to wrap fully around Fluffyball. Bozo was starting to get dizzy. It was as if Bozo had landed in the salad bowl and being tossed around when the humie added salad dressing in it. In fact, why wasn’t Fluffyball using its magic? Bozo knew that Fluffyball had power. Was it because Bozo was hanging onto Fluffyball? Maybe that was the reason. But whatever the reason was, Bozo need to stop Fluffyball or else Bozo would be completely dizzy from the bucking and rolling.

“Will you please stop?!” Bozo shouted at Fluffyball as Bozo pulled Bozo’s head back. Then Bozo slammed Bozo’s head against Fluffyball’s head. Suddenly, Bozo felt the bucking stopped as well as being dropped lower.

Ow. Bozo’s head. Bozo’s head was hurt. Bozo was getting a headache. Bozo was-

Bozo was okay? In fact, Bozo’s head wasn’t even aching at all. Before Bozo could check Bozo’s body to see if Bozo was okay, the illuminated light disappeared. Bozo saw that Bozo’s body was alright. A few ruff fur patches from being rolled around, but Bozo was okay. But what about Fluffyball?

Bozo looked down to see that Fluffyball was not moving. Bozo poked Fluffyball with Bozo’s small paw.

Hey Fluffyball.

Poke.

Fluffyball?

Poke.

Are you playing mean jokes on me?

Poke poke.

Fluffyball?

Bozo looked down for a closer inspection. Bozo saw that Fluffyball had a bump on its forehead. Did Bozo make that? Bozo knew Bozo made a headbutt, but Bozo didn’t expect the headbutt to be that hard. However, Fluffyball was breathing. It seemed Bozo had knocked Fluffyball out cold. Was Bozo really that strong to defeat Fluffyball? Bozo knew Bozo was not powerful against Fluffyball, but Bozo was able to defeat it. Maybe Bozo was powerful enough and didn’t know about that.

Suddenly Bozo heard a shout. Bozo looked up to see who shouted it. It was Master. Master was shouting something as he ran toward One-Glass Man. The other humie followed. Master and the humie were still fighting against One-Glass Man. One-Glass Man was shouting Fluffyball’s name. Was One-Glass Man waiting for Fluffyball to come?

Well, Master and the humie wouldn’t need to worry. Bozo had defeated Fluffyball. Now One-Glass Man couldn’t destroy Master. However, One-Glass Man was still fighting. Maybe Bozo should go and help Master.

Feeling more confident and determine to help Master, Bozo charged forward. The humie were running, but Bozo somehow managed to dodge humie’s feet. As Bozo got closer to One-Glass Man, Bozo leaped forward and opened Bozo’s mouth to-

"Mommy!" A voice cried out.

The little girl jumped up and down, trying to get her mother's attention. "Mommy! Mommy! Look what I found!"

The little girl pointed something at the bottom of the tree stump. When the mother came and looked where her daughter was pointing, there was Bozo sleeping.

"Aw.... Isn't that adorable." The mother commented while smiled.

"Mommy, can I keep it? It's so cute!" The little girl asked.

"No, dear. That creature is a wild animal. We can't keep wild animal, especially when it's sleeping. Now come along dear, we have some shopping to do." The mother answered as she took her daughter's hand.

"Aw.... But Mommy, I want to keep it!" The girl pouted as she walked alongside her mother.

As the humie walked away, Bozo let out a sleepy “Boyo,” dreaming of how Bozo was becoming a hero.

--Jisen Meizuki

The room that Loch stepped inside was silent, but it was not a peaceful silence that he heard. It was the sort of calm that only came before a storm. It was the kind of quiet that only happened before something big was about to go down. Even the sound of his slow, cautious footfalls against the wooden floor seemed to be quieter than they should be. There was something that just wasn’t right here, but the gray-winged heron couldn’t exactly put his finger on it.

Maybe it was the fact that this was once a city hall back in the glory days of Arajudia, a place that once bustled with the sounds of everyday business. There was none of that to be found here. It was only a long, deserted, empty and desolate building that was half of its former glory without its residents. There weren’t even any of the invaders’ troops here, either! They all must have been too scared to come here for some reason.

“And they probably should be scared.” Loch thought, furrowing his brow as he continued his slow advance forward. “There’s no use worrying about it though. I was the one who volunteered to scout ahead. Annis and Horatio can hold their own, and so can I.”

Loch’s halted his footsteps. The heron let his fingers slip instinctively onto his trusty Thoron tome. Somehow, he felt like he would be opening its pages soon. The heron came to a tall, dark chair, and he could definitely see that the chair was occupied. There was just a lone figure’s shadow cast from the light of a crackling fireplace. Loch couldn’t see his face, or much less anything else. Before he could speak a word, of a spell or otherwise, the figure rose up.

Mordache’s Commander Vernon turned around, not looking happy at all. His green eyes pierced forward, glaring upon this intruder with disdain. “If you’ve truly come this far, you must be stupid, bird-brains,” said the man, taking a staff from the end table that was right beside his chair. “I’m one of the Baroness’s finest, so don’t get your hopes up about making it out of here alive.”

“Hm, we’ll see if you can put your spells where your mouth is,” responded Loch coldly, flipping his Thoron tome open. “I could care less about your Baroness, or whether you’re her ‘favorite’ on and off the battlefield, Mordachean.”

“You imbecile!” Vern hissed, taking a tome out from the holster that rested at his side, flipping it open to one of the spell’s pages. “I’ll teach you to insult me!” Holding out his spell-casting hand, the Mordachean cast his magic toward the invader. “Valaura!” he called.

With a few flaps of his wings, Loch soared into the air just in time to avoid being hit by his enemy’s spell. One hit of that, and he would have been poisoned by its corrupt aura. Now that he was in the air though, he had the advantage for now, and had to act quickly. Holding out his own spell-casting hand, he took the offensive. “Thoron!” Loch called, sending a rain of thunder bolts down upon his foe.

The lightning bolts struck down, one by one like a shower of electricity. Vern side-stepped a few of them, but felt a jolt from two as they struck him. For only a moment, he was stunned, but he gripped on to his tome and recovered from the blow quickly, thanks to his naturally high resistance. “Try that again, fool.” He said coldly, flipping the page of Valaura’s tome. His eyes traveled his opponent’s flight pattern, hoping to trap him.

“There!” Vern exclaimed, letting off another cast of the poisonous aura.

Loch’s wing beats grew a little bit faster to avoid Vern’s spell. This second one seemed more focused, and had only missed him by a hair. “So now he’s serious,” the heron thought, trying to fly in more erratic patterns to throw off the Mordachean’s aim. He flew quicker and quicker to avoid the corrupt light tome’s purple blasts of venom, keeping his eyes out for an opening.

That was when Loch noticed something. His rival was so intent on taking the offensive, that he had left his defense wide open. Holding the spell in his hand, Loch soared behind him, casting Thoron once more. The heron wasted no time to see if his preferred weapon was effective, switching quickly to his Elwind tome that he always kept on hand. This green tome he had was lighter and easier to aim with, and it took him no time to cast it at all.

Vern didn’t take the brunt of the Thoron, managing to leap back and avoid the bolts altogether. Did that flying fool really think that the same trick would work twice on him? Just as he was about to cast Valaura again on his opponent (and hit this time), Vern felt the mighty gust of the heron’s Elwind push him back into one of the bookcases that were inside of the room. Vern heard the structure wobble, and managed to get on his feet, running away just in time to see the tower of literature come crashing down from he would have been standing.

“You’re becoming a nuisance!” Vern shouted, grabbing a staff that lay upon the desk that was rightfully his after he conquered this place. “I’d like a bit of silence from you.”

Holding up the staff, the Mordachean commander cast its wicked spell. At his calling, a large, violet triangular prism barrier surrounded the heron he targeted. He grinned when it encased him. There would be no escaping this prison. Vern was certain that he was completely helpless against this spell.

A loud snap sounded, and any of Loch's attempts to resist the spell of silence turned out to be fruitless. The heron tried to open his mouth to curse, but no sound came out. At this rate, he couldn't even retaliate, not with magic anyway. He quickly flew from where he was stopped in place, doing all he knew how in order to throw off his enemy's aim.

"Yes, fly away, little bird. But I'm sure your wings can't carry you forever." Vern said, lowering the silence staff for now, once again opening his tome up. "This time, I won't be missing! He doesn't have an anima spell to resist my light!" thought the Mordachean confidently.

"Valaura." Vern once again cast.

If it were anyone else right now, they probably would have been terrified. Loch, however, was merely focusing on how to stay alive. His powers were gone, but it was only temporary, and he still had flight on his side. Maybe he couldn't run forever, but he wasn't planning on it. The gray-winged heron soared even higher to avoid the poison spell, but now he was just below the ceiling. There would be no going higher.

"I think this little match of ours is over." Vern stated, glaring sharply up at his winged adversary. "It will be such a joy to see you succumb to my lovely poison." he stated, now smirking. There was a bit of sadism behind his tone that suggested he'd be enjoying this all too well. Flipping the next page over, Vern held the spell in his hand, and begun to cast the words that would end this duel...

A sudden, unpredictable movement would make the Mordachean's plans go completely awry. Loch took a nose dive like a swooping swallow, moving too fast for Vern to even expect. He curled his hand into a mighty fist, swinging right in the other man's direction. The blow was so fast, Vern couldn't react. He felt the strike of Loch's punch connect to his right cheek, sending the spell-caster skidding back a couple of feet. Vern stuck his staff on the ground to stop the sliding, rubbing his stricken face with the opposite hand.

"What a dirty, underhanded move!" he snarled. In retaliation, he jabbed his staff forward, attempting to throw the heron off balance.

Loch ended up being surprised as well by the Mordachean's sudden strike back. He tried to outmaneuver the incoming staff, but found himself taking the brunt of the commander's weapon. The staff's jewel wasn't very sharp or hard though, so he recovered from the blow rather quickly. Just a bruise would be nothing to worry about. It certainly wouldn't stop him from moving, to keep Vern guessing where he was going to end up next.

Tossing his staff aside, Vern took Valaura's tome in his hands once more. He would get that bird-brained simpleton if it was the last thing he did! Although he was moving, Vern could see that Loch's overall movements had gotten slower. Was he tired already? This would make hitting him all the more easier!

"This time, I won't miss." Vern warned, lighting up the spell's runes on the page, and then casting the corrupted light from the source of whence it came.

Loch thought he had outrun the glowing, poisonous aura. He took another step though, and realized something wasn't quite right. His vision started to haze. The sounds of the intense battlefield were starting to drown out around him, and there was a numbness that traveled throughout him. "How did he strike me? I must have gotten the tail end of his spell," thought the heron, slightly nervous from this troubling development. "This is no good at all. I'll have to end this quickly, before this gets any worse."

"Is that really the best you could do? I was certainly right about one thing." Vern mocked his rival, smirking. "You were really stupid to think you could challenge me! I bet you can't even hit me anymore." He added, taunting. May be Loch would fall for it. The faster he moved, the faster the poison spread, and if he didn't move, Vern would certainly force him to. Opening his tome once more, he took the spell in his hands. "Come on, come at me." he invited.

Loch wanted to accept his adversary's invitation to come at him, but he knew that was wrong. He knew by this feeling that he had been poisoned, and it would spread the faster he moved or the more panicked he became. He had to remain calm, even in this face of danger. There was a way out of this. There always was a way out of any situation.

Placing his hand on one of the other tomes in his holster, Loch hoped to the Goddess that his magic had returned. He had a plan. It was a quick plan that might not even work if his ability to cast spells hadn't returned to him, but it was better than not having a plan at all. Opening the red tome he carried, the heron sage whispered. He heard it, the sound of his own whispering, chanting voice. He felt it, the thrill of the rush as magic flowed into his spell-casting arm, ready to be released. Now, Loch was the one grinning. It was time to set this plan of his in motion.

"Fire!" he said out loud, casting. The poison's haze on his senses made it hard to aim, but he didn't have to aim for what he wanted to do. Maybe his opponent had high resistance, but again, that wasn't a factor.
Vern side-stepped the little ball of fiery magic easily. "You might have got your magic back, but what good was that?" asked the Mordachean confidently. "Even if that hit, there would be no true harm to me! Your little thunder bolts left but scratches on me."

"I'd look around the room if I were you." Loch warned coldly.

Vern thought the notion was preposterous! He wasn't going to "look around" when it was obvious that the heron was going to launch another surprise attack on him. He reached for the staff once again, hoping this time that a permanent silence would accompany this imbecile's lack of spell casting.

In the quietness that came just before he was about to cast his spell though, Vern heard a crackling noise. He tried to brush it off. It must have just been the fireplace! When the crackling got closer and closer, he finally did take a look to his side. His eyes widened in surprise. What had once been a nice, neatly stacked corner of firewood was now a tall, blazing inferno. Flames were reaching over, threatening to swallow up the carpet that was right next to his chair next.

"Have you gone mad?! This blaze will swallow this room and everything in it!" Vern exclaimed.

"You wanted to play dirty. I just wanted to show you that I can do. By this I believe fair is fair." Loch stated casually. "I'd be running while there's still an exit. I know I'm not sticking around."

And with those words, the heron was off. Vern tried to pursue him, but the Mordachean did not have wings. He stared around at the rising, crackling flames. Quickly getting another tome from his desk, and the pouch of all his gold, the sorcerer made for the door before the fires could even touch him. To him, the heron was out of sight, but he swore he'd have his revenge on the Learanian idiot for delivering this blow of utter humiliation.

Although he took to flight, Loch's wing beats were getting slower. The poison was still taking a toll on him, dulling all of his senses. It was his luck that all the enemies outside the prison had been subdued, and there were no archers left to point arrows at him. It was silent out here, just like in the room before, but this was the peaceful silence that came after a battle was long over. Even with his dulled senses, he could hear the sounds of nature had already returned to the outside.

Although his eyesight was blurring more and more, Loch could still see a pair of familiar black wings not too far below him. Taking his landing slowly, the heron used his wings to lower ever so gently to the ground. He certainly didn't want to crash-land into Annis or the others in her group. It would cause an undue panic.
When he was completely grounded, he looked up at the astonished faces that made up the Arajudia congregation. "Before any of you ask what happened, give me a restore staff's treatment or an anti-toxin. Then we'll talk." he said frankly.

And maybe now that this fight for the occupied city was over, he could finally get a good night's rest.

--Misuki Marishima

All the world was a stage, and Sentria was Razevi’s shining beacon, catching the light of the setting sun and casting a warm red glow across the shifting sands. A world of civility and coexistence shifted to that of lawlessness and destruction, and Razevi sat back and watched it burn. There was little she could do until she had gained full power, until she could take Loki on head-on. She could attempt to fix her country’s problems now, yes, but that would do little when the lord of Chaos learned what she had done. He was just a bit of an egotist, fancied himself above her; he would relish the opportunity to knock her down for a chance she had taken, simply because her power could not match his yet, not after so long an imprisonment. No, she would have to wait, and wait she did, reclined comfortably in the throne room of the dissolved Sentrian royal family. Someone had to keep the seat warm, so why not her, she who was their goddess?

But there were those who would challenge her authority, despite that even with her handicap, she far outweighed any mortal man. And there was one in particular… Razevi considered him, his name pleasantly resting on her tongue. “The Serpent Fang…” A troubling young man, indeed. Delusions of grandeur and might under his boastful swagger and each swing of his blade, flashy and teetering on the edge of destruction, would only lead to instability. But he had diplomatic power, more men under his thumb than she thought possible for a single bandit leader, and, despite his mortal flaws, more clever than his brutish nature would imply.

Troubling, yes. Dangerous? Even more so.

Right on cue, the doors to the throne room flew open, striking the inner walls with such force as to rattle all the way down to the walls nearest her throne. Razevi did not so much as flinch, lazily lifting a hand and observing her fingernails in silence. The thundering footsteps nearing her perch did nothing to unsettle her, and only when they stopped near enough to cast a shadow over her form did Razevi lift her eyes to face he who had approached her.

“What is it, child?” she purred, liquid silver coiling around Drake’s ears. He was young, and even a man such as he was susceptible to the power she emanated, a subtle aura that surrounded her like a fine mist, drawing mortals in like a siren’s song. Yet his eyes snapped to attention; his rage fueled him, urged him forward, and his lips peeled back into an enraged snarl.

“You’ve been turning those idiots against me, haven’t you?” he demanded. His voice was concussive in the expansive, empty room, pushing through the air and against her, but Razevi did little more than blink coyly, her expression an example of utmost innocence.

“Why, child, I haven’t a clue of what you mean.” Reclining sideways in the chair, back against one arm and one leg draped over the other, crossed at the knee, she shifted politely in order to sit up properly, spine straight against the cushioned back. The winged horns on her head seemed to straighten up as she rested her left elbow on the arm of the chair and cupped her chin, staring at Drake with a smile that could melt stone. “Let’s calm down before we do something we might regret, mm?”

His expression did not falter; if anything, it seemed to grow stronger, teeth bared as he scowled. Razevi chuckled and leaned back, watching the young man with amusement in her eyes, accentuated by the light of the torches dancing in her irises. “My men. They aren’t listening to me like before! You’re doing something to them, aren’t you? It wasn’t part of our deal for you to screw me over like this!”

“I said it once already and I will only say it once more, child. I did nothing to your men.” She studied Drake in thoughtful silence for a few long seconds, enough for Drake’s face to redden with anger and a little smile to curl on her lips. “If you are so concerned, child, you—”

“Stop calling me child!” His voice rang out in the room, echoing dangerously. The scurrying of feet signaled a fleeing presence from the darker corners of the area, and the smile on Razevi’s face vanished as their steps grew inaudible. “And get the ******** off of my throne.”

Razevi laughed, like the tinkling of bells, all at once beautiful and chilling, down to the bone. “Your throne? You amuse me, child.”

Drake’s eyes seemed to light with the flames that surrounded them, but whereas the flickering heat offered an ethereal glow to Razevi’s bronzed skin, a playfulness to her aura that belied the danger, the light that played off of Drake’s fair skin and gold eyes only lent him a more menacing form. “Don’t ******** with me, Razevi.” The broadsword was in his hands in moments, muscles tensing below the skin. “I’m not putting up with your bullshit anymore!”

The swing of his sword was abruptly halted by a thin rapier, one hand braced against the back of the blade, the other gripping the hilt. Razevi’s lazy smile never left her face as she rose to her feet, dress elegantly falling around her as she did so. “You still have a chance, child. Drop your sword.”

When Drake’s response was to pull his sword back and abruptly sweep a kick at her calves, sending Razevi to the side, her expression darkened, the light still playing eerily off of her flame-gold eyes. “As you wish, child.” Her mouth spread into a wide grin, lips pulling back just enough to reveal hints of straight, white teeth, and then she was gone, a flash of red illuminated by the setting sun and flickering torches. Drake was barely able to deflect the swing of her rapier in time, bracing himself against the tile before swinging the broadsword in a powerful vertical arc. Razevi’s laughter echoed all around them as her sword glinted in the low light. A horizontal sweep of the long, thin weapon was met by a vertical block of Drake’s broadsword, and their weapons scraped and pressed together before Drake finally shook Razevi’s hold just enough to knock her weapon down towards the ground. A stabbing swing towards her chest lead to him piercing nothing; Razevi’s laughter rang out once more, and Drake about faced just in time to lift his broadsword, flat side out, and deflect a thrust aimed for his heart.

“Your speed has improved,” Razevi observed, and her eyes twinkled behind the mask. “Very good. Let us see if you have worked on your reflexes!” Flames engulfed her free hand, the light casting dancing shadows across her skin that molded along the gold planes of her mask. Drake awkwardly maneuvered his sword as he dove to the side to avoid the first fireball, rolling along the floor to get away from the second. A swift swing of his mighty blade sent the flame swordswoman reeling, but she was still laughing as she struck back, the blade of her sword wreathed in flame.

It was a violent dance between them, Drake pulling back and deflecting Razevi’s strikes as the ancient swordswoman dipped and weaved around him. It was as if she could fly, feet seeming to float above the ground, never landing as her body carried her forward, around, above Drake, rapier glinting in the lantern light. Even as the sun set, the heat of the day persistently stuck in the royal hall, and the sweat that beaded on Drake’s skin, a combination of desert heat and the flames so close to searing his flesh, contrasted to Razevi’s smooth, flawless form, dark skin, free of blemishes, damage, or even the salty traces of exertion. There was only her smile, black-painted lips spread wide in unabashed mirth.

Razevi’s chiming laugh seemed to wobble throughout the room, walls and floors shifting all around him – or was it just the desert heat, shifting to night, distorting his senses? – before she suddenly appeared before him, flame in her hands as if it were water, so hot as to be bright blue. Her rapier was lifted to Drake’s neck, just below his chin, and as he started to move, she angled the blade with the sharp edge to the side, point pressing just firm enough against the hollow of his throat to draw a single bead of blood.

“You’re too slow.” The flame struck him in the chest and knocked him clear across the room, with a strong crash to signal his abrupt stop. The broadsword lay unmanned nearby, and as Drake pulled himself up and out of the wreckage, coughing through the cloud of dust and rubble, Razevi walked toward him, heels clicking quietly on the marble floor. “Powerful. Daring.” She watched him get to his feet, despite the line of blood soaking through the front of his shirt, and the smile widened just slightly. “Tenacious.”

Drake had just gotten his sword back into his hands when Razevi’s hand touched upon his chin, eyes focusing on his. The bandit leader’s focus seemed to waver, the rage beginning to dissipate. “But you are unrefined. Brutish. Direct to the point of foolhardiness.” Her expression softened, and as danger seemed to lurk in the backs of her eyes, tinkling music box laughter filling the room and coiling comfortably around Drake, her lips pressed gently against his forehead before moving to his ear. “You would do well to fear, child.” Heat rippled around her feet as her fingers stroked his jaw gently. Not even the clattering of steel on stone could snap him from his reverie. “If you do not approach me with appropriate respect, and do so soon… I cannot be held responsible for what may happen.”

The hall was silent that night, with traces of her eerie laughter collecting in the corners of the halls until nothing was left but the sound of her amusement and the flickering color of flame.

--Marshmallow Kitty