“The fire, baby. It will burn us both...”

[Letho]

As dubious as he was about Ira’s alleged ability to talk to the departed, Letho had to admit that the uncanny precision of her retort caught him off guard. Scarce were the ones that knew that exactly happened in that abandoned fort several months ago, where the Corone mercenaries that he came to save turned out to be slavers that killed eighty-nine locals. But before Letho had the actual information, he was caught up in the war and forced to either fight on the side of the slavers or forfeit his and Myrhia’s life. And while Ira obviously didn’t know the details of that dastardly clash, she certainly found a chink in the Marshal’s armor. His already frowned face turned deadly serious and grim.

“The dead obviously failed to fully brief you in that matter. I was tricked into that dispute and the stubbornness of your people forced me to fight at that fortress.” Letho said as he walked alongside the bitter Fallien woman that obviously hated his guts. He wasn’t about to butter her up either. “Maybe in your world of the dead everything is black and white, but in the real world everybody is not guilty as charged, regardless of how much you wanted it otherwise.”

“In my world of the dead everything is grey, stuck between the black and the white, in neither Sanctuary or Abyss, or Heaven and Hell as you may know them.” Ira retorted. “I know all about the facade they put on as Mercenaries because my people were sent in to clean up the mess. I had to watch these slavers go to Abyss, screaming all the way and not feeling a single piece of remorse. Though there was one named Col who told me what really happened and how you got dragged into it.”

“Alright, take it easy you two. There’ll be plenty of real foes to fight in the Keep.” Brye said from the other end of the passage, her stern, decisive, captain face exchanging her expression of sorrow over the loss of her leader.

“It’s true though.” Myrhia said to the captain timidly, though her voice easily reached both Ira and Letho in front. “They sent out a distress call, saying they were merchants and mercenaries. And when we came to rescue them, we were attacked and we could do nothing but defend ourselves. Letho didn’t want to kill those people.”

It was a wasted effort, the Marshal thought. Ira was too stubborn, too prejudiced, too set on the facts she knew to be swayed. She acted as if she never made a mistake in her life, holding on to her holier-then-thou behavior and refusing to acknowledge anything else. On the other hand, Brye was too focused at the task at hand, so Myrhia’s words obviously fell to deaf ears.

Luckily, they soon came to the end of their trek through the underground and unluckily for Ira, it was a dead end. Letho already had a rather snide comment on the tip of his tongue, but even as he opened his mouth to utter it, the butt end of Myrhia’s spear struck his chest, her strict face shushing him and allowing the cocky woman to consult her “spirits”. The Marshal waited patiently, still unwilling to let go of his incredulity that didn’t subside even when Ira found a way out, opening the hidden door in the wall. As if that wasn’t enough of a miracle, the woman seemed to concentrate before she moved forward, and what seemed like a set of armor grew around her body. Myrhia’s eyes were wide in awe at this magic and once the metal protection was fully formed, she even touched it with a finger gently.

“H-How did you do that?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“While you’re at it, could you grow about a dozen armed knights as well. I think we could use them.” Letho said with a sarcastic smirk before he made his way through the ajar doors. The divergence in atmosphere was instantaneous once they emerged from the tunnels. The musty, stale smell of the narrow passages was replaced with a faint touch of incense drifting through the fresh air. The high arced windows let in vast amounts of illumination, making the entire hall and all its luxurious ornaments glitter. The polished tiles below seemed so spotless that it made their mud-stained boots almost unwelcome. Bronze and gold statues of heroes of old caught in victorious poses formed a path in the middle of the lofty room. Letho took a peek over the hem of the tapestry, noticed a pair of guards patrolling the premises, then returned to the three women. He summoned Brye closer to him.

“Do you have any idea where Jya might be? Because I don’t think they caught her yet. If they did, they would be long gone.” he whispered. The woman’s eyes went out of focus for a second as she deliberated on the question.

“Either her personal quarters or the armory. Those two places are the easiest to guard. Both have only one point of entry, except her quarters are at the top of the tower, with a balcony looking over Irrakam.” Brye said, her fingers a bit impatient on the hilt of her sword. It was Letho’s time to ponder and calculate.

“The personal quarters. If they fought the invaders, they fought them room for room until they had nowhere else to retreat. You three should make your way to her personal quarters and try to rescue her.” he said, loading fresh shells into his gunblade diligently, careful not to make to clicking sound too loud.

“What about you, Letho?” Myrhia asked.

“I’ll make a big mess down here. It’s a big room, I’ll have plenty of space to maneuver and keep them busy. You three wait until they gang up on me, then make your move up the stairs.” he said, casting another quick glance at the pair of sentries.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” the redhead asked coyly.

The Marshal smiled confidently, playing the Lawmaker on his shoulder nonchalantly. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Just knocking some sense into a bunch of knaves.”

With that said, Letho stepped from behind the tapestry at a rather slow gait, ambling through room leisurely with his boots clicking loudly on the marble floor. The guards started at the sound, but by the time their eyes located the source of the sound, Letho’s gunblade roared. The first bullet struck a bronze statue of a charging rider, tearing off his head. The second bullet tore a hole in a belly of a lofty woman that held a staff decorated with various jewels. The third one turned an ornate vase into dust and jagged debris. The Marshal loaded another bullet into the barrel before stepping closer to the middle of the room. The two guards brandished their curved swords briskly. Two more came from an adjacent ball room. Three crashed through the main door. And at least half-a-dozen came running from the first floor like a herd of wild boars. Letho waited them in the center, seemingly without a worry in his mind.

[Iriah Caitrak]

That was pure madness. She couldn’t believe he was going to take on all of those guards by himself. Was his crazy or just plain suicidal? The Calerian had fought numbers like that on her own, but of Fallen, mindless killing machines that weren’t unlike the undead, they were weak and only dangerous in large numbers. Humans on the other hand were dangerous no matter how many numbers you put them in, especially the trained ones. But then, she paused as she remembered listening to the stories of the fallen Fallien warriors, the slavers and of Col. They all said that Letho had been inhumanly strong and had taken out quite a number of warriors on his own. If that was true—and she never doubted the dead—then they had nothing to worry about for him.

“Brye, do you know where the personal quarters are from here?”

Brye nodded her head, “We have to get out those main doors, the stairs leading up should be…uhh, they should be directly to the right of that.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Well, they don’t exactly hand out maps of The Keep for you to memorize.”

Ira chuckled softly, “Ready Myrhia?”

The redhead nodded. She was brandishing a spear and Ira just hoped the woman knew how to use it, though she doubted she would have come all this way if she didn’t have some kind of battle expertise.

Watching from the shadows of the tapestries as all the attackers circled around Letho, the Calerian took a deep breath and waited. Her heart wanted to beat faster within the confines of her chest but she didn’t let it. Adrenaline was already pumping through her veins in anticipation of what was to come but she couldn’t move yet, not until all the attackers had their focus solely on Letho and were in the middle of fighting him. It didn’t take long and soon the middle of the room became nothing more than a blur of arms, swords and bodies in the macabre dance of life and death.

“Let’s go!”

Keeping to the walls of the room and slinking in and out of tapestries the whole time, Ira ran, leading the others to the main door. It was easy, easier than she thought anyway. All the attackers were so focused on Letho that they never even noticed them, that was until they exited the door and found that there were three of them standing outside, backup she assumed. Well, no time for them to alert more to their presence. Quickly Ira formed two short staves, each one around three feet long and one for each hand. Quickly, she took out the nearest guard to her. He attempted to draw his sword but she cracked the staff against his arm, pinning it to his side, then hit him hard across the temple and he was out like a light. Brye—though the Calerian could tell wanted a real fight—disposed of the man quickly as needed. Metal never even got to clang against metal, these guards were totally unprepared and Brye’s sword slipped easily through a chink in armour, piercing into his chest.

He fell to the ground dead, but Ira turned her head away from the appearance of his soul, she didn’t want to see it. The redhead had also disposed of the last one quickly and efficiently, though in a manner Ira could relate to more. It seemed she was no fond of killing either and had elected to use the but end of the spear to knock some sense into the guard, after knocking him out that is.

Sensing souls from both this room and the room Letho was in, Ira ignored it. She couldn’t do anything right now and frankly she wasn’t sure if she wanted to help these bastards. But then again, she knew in the end she would have to. No matter what they did in life they deserved to go wherever their choices deemed them worthy and she had a feeling the majority of them would be heading straight for Abyss.

Nodding her head to the others and turning right, the Calerian racing down the hallway as quietly as she could. Her boots didn’t make much noise of the polished floors and she figured if anyone else had been in the vicinity they would have heard the battle with Letho and come running to help. They were probably free of more guards until they got to the floor with Jya on it.

At the end of the hall Ira turned right again and spotted the stairs leading up to the tower and to Jya’s personal quarters. There were no guards here protecting the entrance, but then again, why would they need them? Her heart beating wildly in her chest, Ira took the stairs as fast as she could, wishing next time she came to save someone that they didn’t get themselves trapped in a tower with a million stairs leading up to their room. Perhaps the basement, or the first floor would be nice. Less travelling.

“So how do you do that?”

Ira raised a brow and glanced back at Myrhia, who’d spoken the breathless words, “Do what?”

“Form armour and weapons out of thin air.”

“The Serena Crystal.” Ira turned her arm while she spoke so Myrhia could see the crystal embedded on the underside of the armguard, “You take energy from the crystal and turn it into solid matter, the only downside is if you drop the weapon it will disappear after a second or two without living contact, which technically isn’t a downside since attacking souls won’t be able to use my own weapons against me.”

“You get attacked by souls?”

Ira really didn’t think this was the time to be answering the woman’s questions but heck; they still had a few more flights to go, so why not, “I cleanse Purgatory of Fallen, souls who have been corrupted. From what I’ve seen of Althanas, they’re not much different than the undead, only you can’t see them and you can’t hurt them. Imagine being attacked by something you can see, hear, touch or protect yourself against. Only weapons formed by the Serena Crystal can harm a Fallen,” That wasn’t entirely true, she’d watched Storm Veritas kill one with his lightning magic but that was a complication she didn’t want to get into right now.

“What do the other crystals around your neck do?”

“Another time…”

Ira slowed down as she saw the top of the stairs. Her heart was trying to burst free from the confines of her ribcage and she was sorely out of breath, so were Myrhia and Brye. Giving themselves a few minutes to recoup form that long trek, Ira slowly eased her way up the flight of stairs with Brye and Myrhia behind her. As she head crested the last step she was able to see a short hallway leading to two double doors. There was about twenty guards or more trying to break through the doors with no luck. It looked like Jya had put up some kind of magical barrier around them and they had yet to break through it, the only thing was she couldn’t keep that up forever and she’d already been doing it for quite a few hours. She was going to get weak soon.

Nodding her head to the others, Ira led the charge against the group of twenty. So intent they were on trying to break through the barrier they didn’t even realize they were under attack until the first sound of battle ensued, and even then, that was Ira dropping the closest attackers to her with a quick crack to the back of his head. Brye jumped right into the battle with a vengeance; she took down two attackers before they even had a chance to pull their swords leaving the Calerian glad she was on the same side with this woman. Brye was the only one killing the attackers though. Myrhia and Ira were both knocking them out, neither of them comfortable with the thought of killing another person. Let Jya deal out their punishment once they save her, Ira was no executioner, the people she fought would live for now. In the midst of battle she wondered at why Myrhia didn't kill them and wondered if the scrawny little woman had ever killed anyone before, but those thoughts were better left for later when her life didn't hang in the balance.


(I’ll do what we have planned in my next post; you just have fun killing those guards.)

[Letho]

“I am Letho Ravenheart, Marshal of the Corone Rangers, and you are all under arrest!” Letho’s voice resounded through the luxurious hall, bouncing off the marble columns and marvelous frescos that depicted an ancient field of battle on the left and what seemed like an angered deity spewing apocalypse on the right. Standing on a soft, emerald carpet that seemed to have various motifs weaved into it with silvery threads, he suddenly became the eye of the storm of figures. There were about a dozen of static ones, the statues of the Fallien heroes of old providing the soundless audience for the more mobile warriors that were about to clash. The soldiers that started to form a full circle around the dark knight were obviously not local, their faces too pale, their hair not nearly dry enough for somebody who lived in the sandy environment. And yet, they all wore traditional uniforms of the Keep guards, a disguise that could confuse a rather casual observer that would skim over their authoritative figure. For keen, perceptive eyes, it was clear that the plain-looking men below the studded leather armors and light helmets were Coronian.

Half of the assembly regarded the spoken words with a shift in their facial expressions, cocky confidence effaced once the name of the famous Marshal finished echoing and only the leathery sound of creaking armors could be heard. Letho was satisfied with this. Disheartening an opponent was half the victory. After all, it was the morale that usually won the day, not the numbers or the strategy. “Gentlemen, we can do this easy, or we can do it real easy.” the bulky swordsman added, his eyes fleetly jumping from one soldier to the other, his stance changing minutely with each move his foes did. To emphasize just how easy would the entire ordeal be if they decided to fight him, Letho pulled out his grand adamantine sword, holding it in his offhand.

The intimidation seemed to be working. Two more faces transformed from the self-assured visage to a rather unsettled one, the fingers on the sword hilts becoming a bit sweaty, a bit reluctant to move the blade in order to attack. He would’ve succeeded in winning this on reputation alone if the massive double front door didn’t open once again, letting in a man clad in a completely black armor that clearly distinguished itself from the rest. The guard who wore the benighted uniform was almost a giant, nearly a foot taller then Letho and wielding a double axe sopped with fresh blood. “What the fuck are you waiting for? You know the orders! No pulling back!!!”

Without further deliberation, the sentry who was obviously the captain of the bunch came charging at the Marshal, growling and holding his axe at the ready, his blonde hair greasy from the sweat and streaked with bloody crimson. Letho brought his gunblade up, took aim, then started to think and opted against firing. This man could have some valuable information and he needed some clue on what the Coalition really was. So when the man came at him, swiping the axe in a horizontal arc, the Marshal parried with the six foot Lawmaker, stopping the weapon with a sound clang of the colliding metals. His left brought the bastard sword down at the shaft of the axe, the blade hitting it with the flat side and knocking it out of the hand of the aspiring captain. The gunblade moved again, but instead of going for the kill with the edge, Letho struck the captain with the dull side of the blade, hitting his temple and conking him effectively.

After that, the lofty hall was swallowed by the mayhem that was standing on the brink ever since the Corone Marshal stepped into the room.

Inspired by the orders of their leader – or rather, in fear of them – the soliders moved almost in unison. However, the almost part was more then enough for Letho. His bestial reflexes caught every movement of the weapons, every step made, every opening in the unhinged attacks and his brain calculated the way it always did. And then he made his move. The Lawmaker made a backhanded sweep, parrying four blades that came from behind and pushing them sideways. Using the momentum of his twisted torso, Letho’s left brought the adamantine bastard sword as a follow up, cutting through a throat of one solider and cleaving off an arm of another. The green carpet went almost black as it accumulated the spilled blood. And there was plenty more to follow.

Instead of making a move out of the circle as every sound tactician would, the Marshal didn’t make a run for safer grounds. Instead, he ducked below the blades that once again came from behind, sweeping the ground with his extended leg. What the sweep of his leg didn’t knock over, his gunblade follow up did as the tawny blade followed in a horizontal arc that sliced at the knees of the advancing men. Two men lost their legs right there, the third one getting away with a shattered knee cap as he limped away with his leg barely attached and spurting one jet of thick crimson after the other. Those that didn’t have their throats slithered screamed, those that did gurgled and coughed wetly as they collapsed around Letho.

They scattered a little bit now, stunned by the nimbleness of the Marshal and that was their biggest mistake of the day. The veteran brain that saw many a battle did its calculation again, giving each man a tag with a number in sequence from one to ten. The first came from the flank, swinging his blade in an ogre-like overhead attack, making Letho sidestep and slash through his gut with his offhand. The second tried a swift jab from behind, but the clicking of the boots on the polished tiles revealed his intention, making the Marshal spin spryly and away from the strike before the Lawmaker decapitated the man. The third stumbled over a fallen corpse and impaled himself on his own blade, sparing Letho the effort. The fourth tried to do some damage from the distance, throwing his short sword at his would-be executor who parried the projectile cleanly with his gunblade, then lined up the muzzle and covered the expensive fresco with the man’s entrails. The fifth, sixth and seventh grew a brain and tried to move in sync, but all they really did was line up for the slaying. The Marshal parried the left man with his right weapon, the right man with his left and then firing a roundhouse kick that snapped the middle man’s neck, creating an empty spot through which Letho advanced, slashing sideways with both of his blades, cutting the two men in half at the waist. The eighth and ninth came from both flanks, both firing a pair of thrusts. The dark knight dropped both of his blades, taking a quick step backwards and snatching the wrists of both men with both of his hands only to lead them to each other’s gut. The tenth made a run for his life. Letho’s foot maneuvered below the Lawmaker that lay in a crimson pool blow, jerked the massive weapon up to the Marshal’s arm, allowing him to take aim and gun down the guard before he reached the door.

It was done. The Great Hall once again sunk into silence and Letho smirked unctuously. He was made for this.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Things were looking good. The attackers were trained and knew how to fight but Brye, Myrhia and Ira knew how to fight better and it was quickly becoming apparent who was going to win this match even greatly outnumbered. The more that came at the three the more they knocked down but that wasn’t to say they were coming away unharmed. By the time they’d taken out seven of the guards leaving thirteen, Ira was bleeding from a wound in her upper arm and her thigh. Neither were very serious, just annoying stings every time she moved. Brye was fairing a little better having a bit more armour to cover her but she was bleeding too and Myrhia had quite a few scraps on her as well but the fiery little redhead didn’t look like she was about to slow down.

Ira ducked down under the swing of some faceless guards attack, planting her hands on the ground she kicked out at his legs sending him sprawling onto his back. Then with another quick movement she cracked him upside the head with her staff. His eyes went blank then closed as he went off to la-la land. A much better place than where the Jya was probably going to send him after they got her out of this sticky situation.

As Ira stood up from taking out that guard another one came at her from behind, making a quick attack for her back. His blade bit into flesh then hit armour and could go no further. Growling, Ira whipped around and struck the man hard in the wrist hearing the crack of the fragile bones within. Then she hit him once, twice, three times across the face before finally hitting him in the temple and knocking him out. Coward couldn’t even attack her from the front he had to do so from behind. She couldn’t tell how serious the wound was, she’d have to ignore it for now and hope for the best. It would be nothing more than a nuisance, unless of course she bled to death or passed out. Then it would be a serious problem but that was not something she could deal with right now, especially when she was about to engage another attacker.

Blocking his sword with both of her staves, Ira feigned his strength being greater than hers to bring him in closer to her body so she could land a knee into his gut. The man coughed and doubled over, so she landed another one and felt the strength in his arms slacken. Pushing his sword away she brought both of her staves down on either side of his head, knocking him right out.
“Ira!”

The Calerian turned and glanced at the other woman who was engaged with fighting three of the attackers at once. Following the warrior’s line of sight, Ira saw what she was looking at and cursed, then realized Myrhia was close by.

“Myrhia!”

Moving as fast as her feet could carry her, Ira ran over to Myrhia. Halfway there an explosion rocked through the small hallway, sending Ira flying back against the nearest wall, cracking her back and head against the stone. Everything went black, she never even felt herself hit the ground.

* * * * * *

Consciousness was a slow thing to regain. Every part of her body was hurting and she couldn’t remember why. Her ears were ringing and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to open her eyes and see just what was going on around her. If only she could remember why she felt like shit and why her head was throbbing so much. Cracking her eyes open slowly, the first thing Ira noticed was the pieces of stone, large and small littering the floor. It took her abused brain a minute to realize where she was and what she’d been doing and just why there was broken stone everywhere. Once that happened she sprang up into a sitting position only to nearly pass out again with the rush of blood leaving her head. Clucking at the sides of her temples, Ira looked around her. There were bodies all over the floor; apparently blowing up the wall into Jya’s room hadn’t been a good idea for anyone.

Stumbling to her feet, Ira looked around for Myrhia and Brye then realized there was a gaping hole into Jya’s quarters and that Brye was fighting two guards in a last ditch effort to protect Jya. But Ira couldn’t see Jya or Myrhia. Shaking the fuzziness from her head, Ira formed the two short staves in her hands again. She could barely think straight and was about to run into battle but what other option did she have? Brye looked like she was in no better condition and was hanging on by a thin thread, she had to do something. Running over, Ira blocked a blade that was going for Brye’s open back. The attacker grinned at her but Ira did not return the facial movement, instead she went straight for his gut, the butt end of her weapon punching against the leather. The man stumbled a bit and Ira took the opportunity to knock the sword from his head and crack him in the face and then in the temple.

Brye did not fair so well. Turing around to help the woman, Ira was just in time to see her block one attack only to have the man pulled out a small dagger and plunge it straight through a space in her leather armour and into her stomach. The woman stumbled back, a look of both surprise and pain on her face. The attacker on the other hand seemed quite happy with his accomplishment. But while he was distracted with Brye, Ira knocked some sense into him, or out of him, either way it didn’t matter. Catching the woman as she went down, Ira gently eased her to the floor. She didn’t know how bad the wound would be but the colour was already leaving Brye’s face.

“Forget it, save Jya, I don’t know what happened to her after the explosion.”

Though she didn’t want to leave Brye, Ira nodded her head and walked into the large expanse that was Jya’s person quarters. A bed, some dressers, an overturned table, and four unconscious Priestesses. She didn’t think they were dead but they looked injured, no attackers and no Jya. That was when she noticed the balcony close to where the explosion had rocked through the wall. It looked like it had suffered quite some damage as well. Running over to it Ira found Jya hanging on for her life at one end and Myrhia at the other.

“Save the girl!”

Myrhia looked like she couldn’t hold on anymore and just to emphasize that point one of her hands slid off the stone only to be quickly replaced. Caught in the middle of wanting to save them both and save Jya above all else, she was her country’s leader for crying out loud; Ira didn’t really know what to do. But she didn’t get long to ponder the question because Jya let go of the stone floor and Ira quickly ran over to Myrhia, sliding down onto her stomach as she went she grabbed Myrhia’s wrist just as the tiny woman lost her grip. Using what little strength she had left Ira began to hoist Myrhia up. She didn’t weigh much but there wasn’t much strength left in Ira after fighting off numerous attackers, being stabbed in the back and then being thrown against a wall, hard. It took her about a minute but eventually she got Myrhia up onto the stable ledge of the balcony. The tiny woman hugged Ira, crying. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ira lightly hugged her back.

“Do you think she’s dead?” Myrhia asked, “I didn’t want for her to choose me over herself, I didn’t, but she just let go.”

Doing the one thing she didn’t want to, Ira extended her senses and searched for the signature of a soul. The only problem was there were a number of them in the chamber behind her and in some place floors beneath her, which she guessed was the room Letho had been battling in. But she didn’t sense any soul on the outside of the building, which didn’t mean anything.

“I don’t think so…” She couldn’t be certain but she trusted her instincts and right now they were saying Jya was not dead, “C’mon…”

Slowly Ira stood up, bringing the shaking Myrhia to her feet with her. She lent heavily against her, favouring one leg and when Ira glanced down she could see why. There was a long gash on her thigh and what even looked like pieces of stone stuck deep in the wound. Probably from the explosion. Keeping her afoot, Ira took the two of them back over to where she’d left Brye leaning against a wall.

“Brye, I—Brye?”

Ira let go of Myrhia and walked over to Brye, then fell down on one knee in front of the woman. Lifting a hand she brought it up to Brye’s face and closed the woman’s lifeless eyes.

“So what’s it like on the other side?”

Ira stood up and looked over at the soul of Brye, casually leaning against the wall, “I don’t know, never been there myself.” They both smiled at one another.

“I guess this is goodbye then.”

“For now, you’ll see me again someday, I don’t plan on living forever.” Ira reached out and rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Though she looked translucent to a Calerian she had some substance. From behind her she heard Myrhia gasp, her eyes wide as she stared at the soul Brye as if she could see her.

“B-Brye.”

Ira raised a brow, “You can see her?”

“W-When you touched her…yes.”

Ira let go of Brye and watched as Myrhia shook her head then she placed her hand back on Brye’s shoulder and Myrhia nodded, still wide-eyed, slack jawed and disbelieving. So that explained a lot of things.

“Tell Eagis I say hi.”

Brye nodded and smiled then disappeared in a flash of light leaving a black and red butterfly there for a second before that too disappeared.

“C’mon Myrhia, let’s go find your husband and see what happened to Jya…”

Myrhia nodded her head still staring at the space that Brye’s soul had occupied. Wrapping her an arm under Myrhia’s arm and around her back she helped support the woman as they made their way down the long flight of stairs. She definitely wanted the next person she saved to be trapped on the first floor, not the top room of some tower.

[Letho]

Letho wasted no time on mourning the dead or deliberating on the sense of guilt for their demise. They were all warriors and all except the last yellowbellied grunt died in a manner appropriate for their profession. It was a proud death, dare he say a good death even though Myrhia always strictly reprimanded him by saying that there is nothing good about death. The Marshal neither agreed nor disagreed. Death was an essential part of life, it awaited each and every person in due time and the only choice you ultimately had was either to meet it on your feet or on your knees. So while he didn’t hate the soldiers that were now nothing but cadavers whose bodily fluids oozed onto the expensive tiling, he didn’t feel bad about sending them to meet their maker. He respected them for the courage and that was why there was nothing but a solemn expression on his face once nothing else moved on the hall floor.

Holstering both of his weapons – still coated with blood of the fallen – in the proper sheaths on his back, Letho strode under the empty gaze of the statues and towards the flight of stairs that led to the upper levels. However, even as he reached what seemed like midway on the winding stairs that led towards the peak of the tower, a tremendous boom descended from above, reverberating though the empty, stone halls of the Jya’s Keep. “Myrhia.” was the only thought that flashed through his mind, inciting him to get up double time. But even as he set his foot on the marble step, there was such a strong pull in his mind that he actually felt that the gravity was shifting and ushering him in a different direction. On top of that, he felt a presence in his head, as if suddenly there was another train of thought there, another being that had a pair of arms that tugged him away from the stairs and a voice that whispered.

“Second door on the left. Get to the balcony, Letho Ravenheart.” the voice said, serene and soft, almost a whisper of a lover. The Marshal brushed it away with a shake of his head. Whatever witchcraft somebody was attempting, it wasn’t going to work... “The balcony, Marshal. NOW!” the female entity in his mind said, this time more sternly, amplifying the force that pulled him towards the mentioned door. Once again he tried to defy it, but the voice in his head started to whisper in an incomprehensible tongue, soothing words that assured him of the benevolence of the owner. Letho nodded his head in compliance, scudding towards the door and exiting onto the balcony.

The first thing he could see was an assortment of stone debris spread over the balcony. Beyond the banister, the city of Irrakam unfolded like a painting, several charcoaled sites that remained from the yesterday’s fires clearly visible from such an elevated position. But the bulky swordsman wasn’t admiring the view. His eyes followed the lean tower to the very top where a pair of figures hung dangerously from the ledge. The left one he couldn’t recognize but given the opulence of her clothes that fluttered in the mild wind, he could assume it was one of Jya’s priestess. But on the right was somebody much more important to Letho, a scrawny little female dressed in a scarlet skirt and a shirt of matching color. The Marshal’s brow furrowed even deeper. If either of them fell, he could catch them, but if both fell he would have to choose. And he was pretty sure he would make the same choice as he did in the fires.

Fortunately for him, he was never given a chance to opt for either of the two. The unknown woman on the left lost her grip on the jagged ledge that was over fifty feet above Letho, her body freefalling with a clear intention to splatter itself in the middle of the scattered rubble. The Marshal had just enough time to get himself in the proper position and outstretch his arms before the woman landed in his grasp. Despite his remarkable strength, the impact was still surprising and forceful, making him drop to one knee, but his arms amortized the impact efficiently, stopping the woman before she touched the ground.

“Well, that was definitely a nice...” Jya tried to say, her breathing still rather quick from the exertion and the shocking descent. But Letho cut her short, pushing her up to her feet rather rudely and with no consideration to her title.

“Yeah, don’t mention it, lady. Are you going to be alright?” he said, obviously paying little heed to the sizzling, raven-haired woman that he just saved, his eyes once again fleeing to the balcony above. Myrhia seemed to be struggling for a while longer, but then a hand pulled her back over the ledge. “I need to go.”

“Myrhia will be alright, Marshal Ravenheart.” the black-haired woman said cordially, offering a mild smile as she dusted off her clothes. Letho, surprised by the fact that she knew his name, shot her with a keen glance.

“How do you know that? Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Ishtael D’alruniun, The Jya.” she replied, her smile still on as her penetrating azure eyes studied her formidable savior. “And I thank you for your intervention.”

“My lady.” Letho said, bowing his head but not taking a knee for the Queen of Fallien. He was a son of a king with royal blood flowing through his veins. He was her peer and peers didn’t kneel in front of each other. “My apologies. I didn’t know.” and then, after his mind processed the tone of her voice, he added. “It was you, just now, telling me to get out on the balcony.”

“Indeed. You are a tough one to sway, Letho Ravenheart. But I assure you, Myrhianna and Ira are alive. In fact, I think they’re coming down right now. Come on, let’s meet them.” Jya said, leading the way back in. Letho scurried in order to take point.

“My lady, there might be more intruders abound.” he said, but the voluptuous woman merely smirked and continued through the door.

“I can’t sense any. Alikam took care of the infidels at the gates. All of this is my fault. My priestesses and I were so focused on studying a batch of magic scrolls that I didn’t sense the ruse.” she continued, her tone doleful and sincerely compassionate. “Their identity and intentions are still unclear to me. Perhaps you could shed some light on that.”

Letho probably would, but they were inside now and descending down the stairs came something that was more important then politics and secret organizations. “I left their captain alive down in the Great Hall.” he said, suddenly uninterested in the conversation as he moved away from Jya. “Maybe we can get some information out of him. Now, if you would excuse me, my lady.”

He didn’t wait for the permission to be excused, running up the stairs and towards Myrhia whose miserable, grimy face managed to break in a smile at the sight of him. He embraced her, relinquishing her from Ira’s supportive hug and just held her clothes. “I lost my spear, Letho. And I got hurt again.” she said in a timid, apologetic tone. “Ira saved me from falling.”

The Marshal didn’t respond, only held her close with the relieving sensation sweeping through his body. His worry always piqued when she was not at his side, and that went double when there was some fighting involved. But she made it through and all thanks to a rather unexpected savior. Letho looked at Ira with a grateful glance, still holding Myrhia in his embrace.

“Thank you.”

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira gave a small, sad smile as she watched Letho embrace Myrhia as if his whole world depended on her and her alone. That was it, nothing else mattered to him just her and if anything ever happened to her, well, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. It made her a little wistful, wishing she knew what could provoke such an emotion. She protected people because well, it was her job. And not only that but she just felt a need to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves, especially against the kinds of things she fought on an almost daily basis. If only she had someone like that waiting around for her and holding her as if she meant everything to them. She now understood why Letho had braved the flames to go save Myrhia; if he hadn’t and she’d died he probably wouldn’t be able to live with himself. It didn’t make the fact that she’d lost her best friend any easier to stomach; it just gave reason to a death that shouldn’t have happened.

Blushing slightly with a bit of embarrassment, Ira nodded to Letho and moved away from them.

“Ira.”

Ira turned and smiled at Jya. This was the first time she’d ever met the woman, the leader of the country she called home. She was very pretty, dark skinned like all Fallien natives, shorter than Ira, which was not surprising considering most men in Fallien were shorter if not just her height. Unless of course they came from her tribe, everyone grew tall there. She had long raven black hair, which was something Ira was not exactly used to seeing and she wore very flowing, ornate clothing that tended to cling to her curves. She was beautiful and pretty much everything she expected.

“Jya.” Ira smiled wearily at the woman, she was tired, sore, beaten and about ready to collapse somewhere and not move for about three days. Inclining her head was the only courtesy she could give the leader of her country right now, “I’d bow but I might not get up afterwards.”

A smile broke on the woman’s face and she laughed and Ira found herself genuinely smiling back. She hadn’t meant it to be funny, but being the leader of a nation most people probably stammered or got nervous around her. She was just too tired to do any of that. She wasn’t about to let it show though.

“There are three priestesses in your chamber, alive and unconscious. There are also multiple guards up there that were not killed, the body of Captain Brye is up there as well, please—”

“Do not worry, she will be dealt with in the utmost respect. But please, relax, you may not be showing it but I know you’re exhausted. And the dead are not going anywhere.”

The smile slowly left Ira’s face at that comment. The dead were supposed to go somewhere, out of this plane and into the next plane of existence, Sanctuary or Abyss, whichever was chosen for them by their actions committed in life. But it was true; some of the dead had not moved on and were still lingering around. She would have to deal with them and soon, before they were dragged into Purgatory and became a real problem. Sometimes that took days, weeks or even years. Other times it could happen in a matter of hours, that was why Calerian’s made a point to release any soul they came across, even troubled ones who didn’t want to leave. They had to, for their own sake and for the sake of others.

“I didn’t mean it…”

“It’s alright, you’re not a Calerian. Though Jya you may be, you cannot sense the dead.”

The woman smirked slightly, “That is very true. What happened to Captain Eagis?”

“He didn’t make it through the tunnels…”

“I see…” Jya nodded her head slowly, “I’m sorry to have dragged you all into this but I am very grateful for what you have done. If you hadn’t of showed up things would have gone very different and I hate to think of what might have happened.”

“Hmm…”

Receiving thanks for what she did was not something Ira was entirely used to. Working with the dead was pretty thankless, especially when they were trying to kill you all the time. They tended not to say thanks to her in any manner; they usually just tried to rip her heart out.

“Come…”

Jya began to lead the way off the staircase and Ira followed, Letho and Myrhia following behind her. The first thing Jya did was open the front door, with the help of Ira and let in Alikam and those that survived from his group. It looked like the majority of them had made it. From what she guessed it seemed as if only five were missing and they could have been sent back to their headquarters wounded.

“Jya! You’re safe!”

Alikam jogged over to Jya and fell down on one knee in front of her.

“Captain Alikam,” The man seemed startled for a moment, his entire body going stiff, but other than that he gave no indication that what she said bothered him, “On the top floor of the tower are the bodies of three unconscious priestesses, please take them to any room on the lower level and I’ll have someone attend their injuries. There are also unconscious and dead men up there, those that attacked us, I think you know what to do with them. You will find…Brye’s body as well.”

“Captain Eagis?”

Though it seemed a little cold, Ira understood Jya as a leader and that sometimes emotion was not the best thing to show, “His body is within the tunnels, I shall have my priestesses retrieve him.”

Captain Alikam rose and for a moment did nothing but look beyond Jya and at Ira. There was nothing she could say to the man and words of comfort were never forthcoming from her mouth. She just hoped her eyes betrayed how sorry she was for both of their losses. She wished she’d been able to do something to help either of them but her abilities were of no help to the living in that regard. They could not save you, they could not heal you, there really wasn’t much of anything they could do besides make her better at fighting. Alikam’s eyes left hers and he turned to the men behind him, spouting off orders in Fallien to retrieve bodies, dump those alive in the dungeons and put the priestesses somewhere safe. He gave special orders for Brye’s body to be taken back to their headquarters where it could be prepared for rites and then the eventual burning. The rites were supposed to help ease the dead into the afterlife, but Ira knew that by that time the souls were usually long gone and if not there was nothing a ritual could help them with.

With those orders being carried out, Jya led the group from the main hallway back to the large ballroom that they’d exited the tunnels into. The ground was littered with the bodies of the attackers Letho had easily disposed of and towards the centre mass of it all laid one extremely large man who was still breathing. As everyone gathered into the room, Ira watched as the man slowly began to ease his way back into reality from whatever dream world he’d found himself in. Alikam quickly ran over and restrained him before he even remembered where or who he was. It took him a moment, but Ira could see when his eyes fully focused on his surroundings and realization dawned within his mind. He struggled against Alikam and though larger than the man he was weakened and didn’t seem to be gaining any ground.

“You think you’ve won,” He spat the words at them, as if the fact that he was being held down and was now their prisoner meant nothing, "next time the Coalition will not fail! The next mission will succeed and there is nothing you can do about it!”

With a sick, twisted grin on his face, the man threw Alikam off him and before Ira could react pulled out a small dagger from around his waist and plunged it into his heart. He died instantly, his lifeless body falling to the ground with a sickening thud. His soul was ripped from the lifeless corpse. He looked from his body to Jya and then to each of them. His eyes calculating as if he were thinking that in this state he could do something. Narrowing her eyes, Ira formed her Naginata in her hand and calmly walked over to the body. Alikam gave her a confused look but she didn’t care to explain. With one quick motion the blade cut through the soul of the man, piercing into the darkness where his heart lay when he was alive. Instead of instantaneously disappearing into the light, a look of pain crept over his face as the shadows around the room began to lengthen and slowly move towards him. They dropped down from the ceiling like slime covering his body, slowly melting his ethereal skin from his bones. Ira turned her head from the sight and tried to ignore the screaming. The knowledge that he was going to Abyss made little difference to her. She wouldn’t care either way but watching someone’s soul being stripped and thrown into such a place was not something she enjoyed, no matter what they had done.

[Letho]

The Coalition. Every time it was just a rumor, just a name with no tangible details, just a whisper as fragile as a dandelion puff. Every time Letho started to think that the existence of this alleged organization was nothing but a pile of horseshit, something like this would happen, placing the Coalition in the middle of an aftermath. It happened in Haidia, when supposedly this mysterious name was connected to the insurrection that they supposedly funded. And it was mentioned now as the force behind the attempted assassination of Jya. All the Marshal actually did was picking up the pieces, clues and fragments of information and hearsay that led nowhere and revealed nothing. They were too careful, too cautious not to get closely involved, too calculated in this game of hide and seek in which he once again had to admit a loss. The only source of information he had stabbed himself in the heart, preferring suicide over giving some information. Letho was certain that the rest of the grunts were left in the dark, left on the need-to-know basis, because that’s how the Coalition worked. Clean, with no strings attached.

“What is this Coalition that he spoke of?” Jya asked, clearly not astonished by the suicide but genuinely intrigued by the information. Alikam drew a blank as did everybody present. Everybody except Letho.

“The information the Corone Government has on them is scarce, my lady. I would be willing to disclose it to you, but it is for your ears only.” the Marshal said, his voice stern and regal, making the Fallien queen turn abruptly and fire a slightly frowned glance towards where Letho and Myrhia stood hand in hand. Jya knew that Letho was here on official business, but the fact that he had some information on whoever was the puppeteer behind both the fires and the infiltration was surprising even for her divine wisdom.

“Very well. We will discuss this in my personal study immediately. My priestesses will take care of Myrhia and her wounds.” the black-haired ruler said, her softness giving way to business-like strictness as she led the way out of the room at a determinate gait.

***

Despite the utter shortage of data regarding the Coalition, the conversation with Jya lasted for nearly two hours during which Letho was reminded just how tedious the position of a governor of a country really was. He was a prince once and he should’ve been prepared for all the politicking and behind-the-stage games and secret alliances and whatnot, but those days seemed like they happened in another life. He exchanged information with the Fallien queen and did his best to assure her that, even though the Coalition probably had roots in Corone, it had nothing to do with the official government and its policy towards Fallien. And suddenly, instead of the simple job of a Corone Marshal, he became an ambassador, soliciting the majestic woman and assuring her that Corone law enforcement is doing everything that they could to apprehend these evildoers.

He probably did a decent job at it too since in return Jya assured him that, while the attack was a serious infraction, there would be no bad blood between Fallien and Corone... yet. However, if the Coalition continued with their terrorist acts on Fallien soil and the Corone Government did nothing to prevent or stop it, there would be some serious repercussions. This and a lot more was penned on the ten furled parchments with Jya’s personal seal that he was to hand over to The Assembly, the highest governing body of Corone.

Though the discussion was concluded with this act, the official business was not. Letho, Myrhia, Ira and Alikam were all made honorary guests on the celebration that was to take place that evening. All four were given personal quarters in the Keep along with about a dozen servants that catered to their every desire, preparing baths, bringing wads of clothes for them to try out for the night’s festivities. Letho knew that it ultimately had little to do with celebrating. Jya had to show that Fallien wasn’t shaken by this incident, that they were still strong enough to take the blow and keep on going as usual. Because as amicable as all the other nations were, there were always those that sniffed around like predators, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness. And Jya was wise enough to make it clear that Fallien was up and running as usual.

So that night the quartet of heroes that proved themselves most courageous during the entire ordeal was granted the honor to join Jya at her table, in the vast ball room of the majestic Keep. All signs of battle were diligently removed, the tainted green carpet replaced with a scarlet one, the destroyed statues removed and the remaining ones reshuffled to give out an impression that nothing was amiss. Hundreds of members of local royalty swarmed the room, all pressed and dressed and swaying in sync with the tune a large band of musicians played. Tables laden with enough food to feed a legion were set near the walls, leaving a large open space in the middle for the folk that found enough mirth to give in to dancing and celebrating the victory over the insurgents.

Jya’s table was separated from the rest, elevated several steps and twice as rich as the rest. Honeyed and seasoned meat glistened with grease on the plates made out of remarkable Fallien glass, exotic fruits and fresh vegetables decorating the main courses daintily, and finest wine circling the table with the servants that were happy to oblige and refill the cups. The suite that sat behind these delicacies failed to deviate from the opulence of the entire scene.

Jya sat in the middle, on a chair that looked like a smaller version of a throne made out of some sort of polished crystal, clad in a purple dress that cascaded down her curves, clinging to her body. To her left, Ira and Alikam were seated. To her right, Myrhia seemed utterly lost in all this grandiloquence. The redhead loved socializing with people and making new acquaintances, but her modest demeanor was just overwhelmed by all of this. So she kept shyly to herself, nibbling on the food cautiously so as not to embarrass herself by the lack of manners. Her attire was an empyrean one, a silky rosy-colored evening gown ornamented with Kiramaini glass fragments that glittered in a myriad of colors, somehow managing to make her scrawny, almost unwomanly body look genuinely gorgeous. Besides that marvelous dress, Jya gifted Myrhia with another that remained in the redhead’s quarters, a spotless, pearly-white gown. When Myrhia asked Jya why was she giving her another dress, the Fallien queen just smiled as if she knew something Myrhia didn’t.

Next to the diminutive ex-slave, Letho was sitting in all his glory. For his service to the Fallien, he was given a ceremonial full armor plate made out of Cillu glass. The swordsman was initially suspicious about the armor that seemed way too light to be efficient in combat, but he was assured that Cillu glass was as hard as mythril. The armor was consisted of an ornate breastplate made out of small glass scales, a pair of pauldrons, greaves, combat boots and a helmet – the latter two were left in his quarters for convenience sakes. Swung over his right shoulder and clasped in front of his neck with a clasp that looked like a large ruby was a cape with an image of a phoenix weaved into it by silvery threads. His entire attire was colored in a scarlet hue, an appropriate color for somebody who spilled so much blood.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Being kept in the dark was not something Ira was used to. It greatly disturbed her as well, since this Coalition had caused the death of her best friend. It was a chain of events, choices once again. If they hadn’t started the fires then Ira, Messia and Uri would never had been trapped with those other citizen’s, Letho would have never been forced to save Myrhia and Uri would never have blindly tried to stop him. Therefore, she wouldn’t be dead, Jya wouldn’t have been kidnapped and her life would have continued on normally as it always did. Her and her friends would be enjoying themselves and possibly partying the nights away like most of the younger citizen’s of Irrakam did. Those underground parties were always a blast, until some local law enforcement came and broke them up, but sometimes if they were lucky that never happened.

But because of what the Coalition did none of that had happened and things had changed drastically all within a two-day period and now she was being kept in the dark about what and who they were. She understood Letho’s position but it still irked her to the very core of her being. She knew even asking him in private would probably reveal no information to her. If he wasn’t going to allow her to hear it now why would he allow her to hear it later? After all, she was just the local girl with animosity towards him, unjustly blaming him for the death of her best friend, why should he tell her anything? He didn’t give a sand scorpion’s ass about her or her feelings. Yet, looking back to a few minutes ago when he’d held Myrhia so tightly in his arms and thanked her, actually thanked her with the stars in his eyes and a look of profound gratitude on his face it had seemed like his feelings towards her had changed. She’d probably never know for sure, after tonight Ira would most likely never see him again.

Tonight. That was something in and of itself. A feast all around to celebrate the honorary guests and what they had accomplished. A shuffle to prepared rooms, a steaming hot bath and some grooming. Though the events of the passed two days were still fresh in her mind the Calerian tried to relax and just enjoy being pampered. Priestesses were coming and going through her chambers; one in particular had spent over an hour with her tediously healing all of her wounds. By the end of her bath she’d had not a single scratch or bruise marring her skin. There weren’t even any scars and the bump on the back of her head from where she’d hit that damnable wall, gone. After that, she’d shooed all the Priestesses out of her room and told them to come back in an hour because she needed some sleep. And sleep she did for that hour, like the dead. Nothing disturbed her and when they returned to wake her with some choices of dresses she’d just wanted to roll back over and forget the world even existed. Grudgingly, she’d gotten out of the oversized and overstuffed bed to try on the dresses though.

Quickly—with all these women fawning over her—Ira was lost in the moment of just, well, being a woman and not a warrior. She got to admire herself in pretty little outfits with matching, sparkling Fallien glass dangling from her ears and around her neck. She laughed with the Priestesses and even for fun made a few of them try on the dresses and model for her. It had been nice, to just forget and be normal for once. But now she found herself sitting at the table, with Jya on one side of her and Alikam on the other, Alikam who couldn’t stop taking cautious glances at her from the corner of his eye. She guessed she’d picked the right outfit then. A deep red dress adorned her body, darker than blood. Strapless, the front of it cascaded down and overlaid itself, showing a fair amount of cleavage in the process. The back did the same; only it revealed her entire back, stopping just shy of her bottom. It clung to her every curve and shifted in just the right way to draw attention to them when she moved. A dangling pair of Kiramaini glass earrings brushing her jaw line and a matching necklace resting on her collarbone. There was also a long line of the glass beads dangling down her back. Normally she would love this, but it was overshadowed with what had happened to cause such a feast. At least Messia was enjoying herself, she’d been invited as Ira requested and the blue haired Calerian was enjoying all the attention she was getting, especially from the male crowd.

Ira also couldn’t stop thinking about the present that Jya had given her. Coming into her quarters when she’d been trying on dresses—this one in particular—and telling her she looked fabulous, she’d asked the Priestesses to leave.

“Ira, do you have your crystals with you?”

“Of course…but how do you know about them?”

Not many people knew about the crystals and the fact that Calerian’s drew their abilities from them, bonding with them in fact.

“I may not know a lot about Calerians but I know you use crystals in battle.”

Ira slowly nodded her head, looking from the velvet-covered box back to Jya’s face, “Which crystal?”

“Which one forms your weapons?” She asked with a smiled.

“The Serenna Crystal.” Walking away from the mirror she’d been studying herself in, Ira walked over to a corner of the room where her meagre physical armour was. Grabbing one of her armguards, she pried the crystal from the underside and walked back over to Jya. Wordlessly, Jya opened the small box she was holding and pulled back the satiny fabric and reveal another crystal that shimmered in multiple colours depending on how the light touched it.

“This is the Ad Atmika, my gift to you for what you have done.”

Ad Atmika, a crystal of the soul?

Ira looked questioningly from the crystal to Jya; unsure of this gift she was being given.

“An enchantment to the Serenna Crystal,” she began to explain, “it has to be thought activated but when it is it will allow you to attack the soul of a person instead of the flesh. The blade will pass through the body creating no harm but will cause severe pain to the inner soul and a calculated attack or enough damage will force the soul from the body, putting it in a kind of animated sleep. After a period of time the soul will return. However, too much damage and you will destroy the soul of the person and in this state you can also sever the string of fate that binds the soul to the still living body and kill the person.”

Ira looked at the crystal in surprise. So much power from such a tiny little thing and yet there was so much power housed within the crystals she already carried with her, should she really be so surprised by this? She had just never known such a thing was possible.

“Would you like the enchantment?”

Ira nodded her head, “Yes.” It was a much better alternative to killing a person amd it coule come in handy. She was not about to turn down a gift from The Jya either.

Smiling, Jya took the Serenna Crystal from Ira’s hand and fused the two of them together in a bright flash of light. When she was done the crystal in her hand had no great difference from the two used to create it. It looked like a normal clear crystal, however in the centre of it a brilliant display of colour seemed to reflect off inner facets she could not see.

“Thank you…” Ira said, gently retrieving the crystal from Jya.

“Your welcome, I know you will use it wisely.”

With that, Jya left the room and Ira stared at the crystal for a long time before the uttered the word ‘Serenmika’ and then returned to getting ready.

The sound of a glass being tapped brought Ira out of her reverie.

“I would like to draw everyone’s attention please.”

That didn’t take long as Jya stood from her ornate chair. Every person in the room became quiet and every eye turned to her, especially the eyes of those at the head table.

“As you all know, we’re here to celebrate the great deeds of those sitting with me tonight. For their bravery and selflessness in saving my Priestesses and myself and for stopping a monstrous attack on Fallien. Because of them, I am here to throw this celebration and because of them our nation is safe.” Behind Jya, unnoticed by most too caught up in her words, a Priestess came forward carrying an ornate box in her hands, “If my guests would please rise from their seats.” Jya smiled as Ira and the others pushed their chairs out and rose from the table. Opening the box, revealed four gleaming medals from within and with great care, Jya took these medals and slipped them over each of their heads and giving each of them a kiss on the cheek as well. Ira was blushing immensely by the time the whole thing was over with and they were once again seated, the noise level slowly returning and the eyes finally leaving her.

Attention was nothing she grabbed for.

An hour or so later in the evening Ira had enough of the party and as discreetly as possible crept from the grand hall. Leaving The Keep altogether, Ira made her way through the deserted streets of Irrakam. This late at night there were few people around, many being invited to the festivities and many more having simply gone to bed. Those who were out paid little attention to her, all knew of the party, so an elegantly dressed woman walking down the street was nothing too surprising, though eyes did tend to linger. Eventually, she made her way to the place that began this whole affair. The sight of the fires and the rubble under which Uri’s body was buried somewhere. It was picturesque. A quiet street, a cloudless night with too many stars to count and a barely full moon shining down upon her, illuminating the stones and creating the illusion of a blue glow upon their blackened faces. It was so calm and peaceful compared to what it had been.

[Letho]

Even though she felt awfully alien in the proximity of all the lords and ladies, Myrhia regretfully followed Letho out of the ball room once he excused himself and followed Ira’s stealthy departure. She didn’t belong there, amidst all those people that were prettier then her and had more manners then her, but she still relished in just being there, seeing them dance and whirl in the rhythm of the brads’ music. She was an ex-slave, somebody who was literally nothing until recently, and even being in the presence of something so grand, so imperial, it was a dream that she never expected to come true. So a part of her definitely wanted to stay despite feeling embarrassed for all the mistakes she made during the feast – thinking that water for washing her hands was a peculiarly clear looking soup being just one of them. But Letho made it clear that they had another thing to take care off before their return to Corone and even though she wasn’t exactly a brainiac, following Ira’s departure made it clear that it had something to do with the Calerian woman.

Still, she found some joy in the medal that dangled between her modest breasts. The golden medallion was definitely the prettiest thing she ever got from anybody that wasn’t Letho. So when the pair walked out of the Keep and into the benighted streets, Myrhia kept dropping her eyes to the medal, fingering it every once in a while. She and Letho walked almost like royalty, the willowy redhead holding to the crook of the Marshal’s arm as their glamorous attires attracted the attention of the sparse onlookers that moved through the streets. They were almost like royalty mostly because Myrhia was barefooted, her feet tapping softly on the warm cobbles. She discarded the high-heeled glittery shoes the moment they left the ballroom, the damn things nearly making her sprain an ankle thrice during the evening.

It wasn’t until she caught a glimpse of the well she fell into the day before that she realized where Ira was going and what made Letho follow the Fallien woman. The celebration sure was empyrean and people attending it sure were important. But there was one person that couldn’t attend it and a worm of guilt for this burrowed itself into the swordsman, reminding him of Uriahd that perished because of his recklessness. Whether or not he was directly responsible for her death didn’t matter. What did was that he was responsible, for her, for Ira, for all those that were captured behind those flaming walls yesterday and for Myrhia as well. And the more he mulled on it, the more he realized that there might’ve been a better way to act. If he explained why he was doing what he was doing, if he took five seconds to speak to the crowd, then maybe Uri would me alongside Messia, dancing in that hall tonight. He didn’t deserve a medal for what he did - that was the thing that pained him the most. Instead it felt like a heated brand around his neck, burning his chest and reminding him of what he did every time the metal clinked against the glass of his scarlet armor. But there was somebody who deserved to be decorated for her actions.

Eventually they reached the heap of rubble that barred entrance to the side alley beyond. Ira was already there as he expected, standing serenely and observing the stones that formed a grave for her friend. It was a haunting sight for both Letho and Myrhia, the moon above spilling silver that gave an unnatural glow to everything, the only sound the rustling of Myrhia’s dress and the minute clinking of his armor. She probably wanted to be alone and even if she didn’t, he was probably the last person she wanted as a companion in her mourning. But he couldn’t leave Fallien without finally doing what was unmistakably the right thing.

He detached himself from the redhead’s side wordlessly, approaching the violet-haired woman that looked stunning in her outfit. He didn’t speak to her, didn’t apologize for his intrusion, didn’t even look at Ira. Instead his hands moved to the smooth golden chain that held the medal around his neck, slipping it over his head before he dropped to one knee in front of the woman. The medallion, clearly depicting a warrior riding a massive bird that seemed ablaze, was gently lowered on the blackened stones below.

“I do not deserve this.” he finally spoke, the sternness of his tone cracked and wavered slightly under the boiling emotions as he got up and faced Ira. “But she does. I know words and apologies offer little consolation, but I will offer them anyways. You’re a good woman, strong woman, Ira, and so was Uri. She will find her way to the Halls of Gathering. I am sorry she walked that path before her time and that I was responsible for her death.”

Ira maybe talked to the dead and they haunted her in their spirit form, but Letho had ghosts of his own as well. They always came in the dull hours of the night, faces etched on the walls inside his head, faces and screams of those that perished by his hand. And the innocent ones were always twice as vivid, twice as loud, twice as persistent at reminding him of what transpired and shouldn’t be forgotten. Uriahd was the newest specter that would follow him around probably until the end of his days. He would always remember the bitter smoke that burned his lungs, the devouring flames that bit at his skin, the buzz of explosions in his ears and that faint scream as he leapt through the fires. And that was the way it ought to be. Life was too great of a thing for its loss to fade into oblivion.

Myrhia’s eyes welled with tears as she listened to him speak and felt the heaviness in his voice. He always knew what to say and the right way to say it in moments such as this one and it always moved her when she saw him peel away a part of his shell and display a portion of what lay beyond his gruff exterior. And when he finished, she couldn’t prevent herself from offering her own, much more emotional and unrestrained, apology and thanks. Her bare feet took her to where the pair stood and with a slight pause that was enough for a pair of tears to slide down her cheeks she threw her arms around the Calerian and hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Ira.” was the only thing she whispered as she held on to the beautiful woman. After several seconds her hands let go, but the redhead didn’t move away from the Fallien female. Instead her hands moved to her medal which she removed from her neck and donned over Ira’s. “Thank you for saving me.” she added with a coy smile, hoping that the woman wouldn’t push her aside like the last time she tired to apologize.

This would iron things out completely, both Myrhia and Letho knew that. Even if they met with Ira again, the ghost of Uriahd would loom above them, inside of them, displaying itself in their eyes, in their demeanor. But what both of them hoped for was that this could be the first step on a journey to forgiveness.

((SPOILS: Ornate full plate mail – made out of extremely tough Cillu glass, this armor was given to Letho by Jya as a gift for the services he did for the Fallien kingdom. As hard and as light as mythril, this armor looks as if it was made out of scarlet dragonscales. It is consisted of a scale mail that covers the torso, a pair of pauldrons, a pair of combat boots, greaves and a helmet.

Also, Myrhia gets a pair of silk dresses decorated by Kiramani glass, one rosy and the other pearly white.))

[Iriah Caitrak]

She heard them approach her long before she bothered to turn and look. It was a quiet night and the clinking of armour and the soft peddling of feet was something that echoes, especially in the streets of Irrakam. In truth, she’d been hoping it wasn’t them; she’d wanted it to be some random pedestrians just walking by, enjoying the scenery or even looking at the destruction that had befallen their fair city. That’s what she’d wanted it to be but since when did anyone ever care what she wanted? What she really wanted was her life long friend back and for all of this to have been some kind of nightmare, the kind she’d been prone to when she was younger. If only such things were possible though, she could imagine, she could fantasize and she could hope but in the morning when she woke up nothing would have changed. Uri would still be dead, she would still have yet to shed a single tear and they would have to return to the tribe soon, with two walking and one on her back.

Instinctively knowing it was Letho and Myrhia, Ira slowly turned and faced them. Solemn, sad expressions were gracing both of their faces. In shock more than anything else, Ira watched as Letho approached her then knelt before her, placing the medal Jya had given him on the stones for Uri. Emotions were hard to control and as she watched that small item, that small gesture that said so much about Letho she had never perceived to know or care about before she couldn’t help but feel the well of tears begin to burn in the back of her eyes. She couldn’t help it and she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stop them. They spilled down her cheeks and when Myrhia hugged her she felt that smell dam break. Small arms wrapped around her body and Ira hugged Myrhia back as if the world depended on how tightly they could hold on to each other. It felt so good to just hold someone like this and feel the cold tears fall down her face, even if they were staining Myrhia’s dress. Eventually the two of them cut off the embrace and Myrhia too gave Ira her medal, slipping it over her head. But Ira quickly stopped her and took the medal, putting it back around Myrhia’s neck.

“This is yours…” Ira smiled somewhere between gratitude, respect and sadness then wiped the tears from Myrhia’s face. She wanted to say more but the words would not form in her mind and sometimes silence said more than all the words within the world.

Brushing a lock of Myrhia’s hair from her face, Ira moved passed the small woman to Letho who was watching the whole thing with a careful and sad eye. Looking up to the man, Ira extended her hand to him, “Fallien always welcomes you, the Calerian tribe will always have a place for you and the doors of my home will always be open…for both of you.”

For a moment, Ira watched the man hesitate and she feared that after all this and coming to the realization that it was not truly Letho’s fault in what happened to Uri he might not even accept her offer of friendship and forgiveness. But her worry panned out to be nothing as Letho accepted her hand a slight smile playing across his face.

Relief washed over her as Ira stepped in closer to Letho, rising to her toes to whisper so Myrhia could not hear, “I expect to be invited to the wedding.”

Truly smiling even as tears were still fresh in her eyes making them glitter in the light of the moon, Ira stepped back from Letho and together the three of them headed back towards The Keep. Ira wanted the blissful nothingness of sleep; in the morning there was work to be gone and souls still within The Keep that had not moved on. The stones needed to be moved, her initial reason for being in Irrakam needed to be fulfilled and she needed to head back home. This adventure was over, another chapter of a book that had been told, written, signed and closed for now.


((Spoils Serenmika: Ira’s Serenna Crystal has been combined with Ad Atmika to make the Serenmika Crystal. This new form of the crystal allows for an enchantment to be called upon her weapons. When this enchantment is activated the blade will glow blue and will pass through flesh to attack the soul of the person, causing two times the pain. A calculated and direct blow to the Thread of Fate will cause the soul to be forced from the body, enough damage done to the soul and it will also be forced from the living body. If too much damage is dealt to the soul it will be destroyed.

A detailed explanation of what happens to the soul, body and what the Threads of Fate are will be given in my level up.))