Chapter 1: Coartez and The Frozen Forest

[Cyrus the virus]

((I love you, Google cache. Open to Raelyse, Urei and Slayer of the Rot))

Far beyond the reach of Salvar's biting winds, even farther from Alerar's highest mountain regions, there stood a tower. The tower reached to epic heights and was blacker than the darkest night. Its location was not in Corone, nor was it on any part of the Tesserar continent. It was everywhere and nowhere at once, held in a space separate from Althanas' plane of existence. This was a world of bright light, but nothing else up substance. No ground, no background, no sky or environment. There was the tower, and only the tower. Powerful enough to shake fearless men to the bone, intimidating enough to drive them away at a single glance.

Above the hundreds of flights, the Tower's top floor serves as a meeting place for the Six Commanders of the Elements, or the Adept Six, as they'd so humbly dubbed themselves. Six crude people, five men and a woman, each harnessing a great deal of powerful magic in one specific element. And at who's expense? Luc Kraus, when he was just a child, fairly young and prepubescent, but unmistakably the most powerful wizard any of them had ever seen.

The story has been told a thousand times, at least to the unlucky tavern-dwellers Luc has met, but never from a different perspective. Never from the perspective of an idiot man, whose selfish and repulsive behavior ruined the respectable reputation he once had. Never from the perspective of Coartez Menuevon, minister of ice. If Luc ever heard Coartez call himself that, he'd likely go mad with laughter -- or rage.

This top floor, which consisted of a single large room, was decorated with the tower's natural spiked interior. The walls were, like the outside, black as death itself, but flaming torches lit the inner room very well. Well enough for the Adept to see each other clearly, anyway.

"Another meeting so soon, Brash?" A gentle voice asked, breaking the long silence between them all. It was the first set of words in what would become a drawn-out conversation which would go nowhere, Coartez imagined. "We met here only two months ago, am I right?" Freesh asked again, before descending into her chair. The lone woman of the group, Freesh often assumed the role of peacekeeper.

Brash responded with the first thing that came to him. "Yes. You're right." He couldn't offer any more than that. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't he who'd decided the meeting was necessary in the first place.

There was another silence. The crackling of the lit torches was loud in the room, but nobody noticed.

Vai let out an audible sigh, one so loud that it caught the attention of all of the others in the room. "It was I who called you all here, and I'm sad to say that my attempts at keeping the mana crystals stable have failed." He brushed silver hair from his face, tossing the long strands behind his shoulders, revealing a straight face with a clean complexion and a pointed nose. Finally, they knew why they'd been summoned to the Black Tower.

Illia piped up, a rather rare occurrence. "So we can't use them, yet," he said, speaking everybody's fears.

"There's good news, though." Vai continued, ignoring Illia's declaration. "Although the crystals are unstable, I've been able to create one for each of you. I don't have the time to examine each one, so I'd ask that each of you run your own studies, while I evaluate the lightning crystal I've got."

Coartez perked up at this. He was going to get a mana crystal of his own?! Finally, he could use the magic extraction machine Vai provided him with so long ago. "Great!" He boomed, his gullet wavering disgustingly with the vibration.

Freesh eyed him and winced. He used to be so handsome, she thought, as she often did about Coartez. Of us all, he's the one who let his power go to his head. He stopped studying magic... Stopped doing anything.

"So our dream of creating an army of elemental beasts is becoming a reality?" Crowley asked, his dark hazel eyes sparkling with a kindled excitement, one that up until now, Brash would have sworn could only exist within a child.

Vai nodded. "That's right, but we're still a ways off. It's possible to use our magic extraction machines to create monsters, but I haven't quite figured out how to make them, well... obey."

The others listened intently. Though Vai had finished speaking, they knew him well enough to be able to tell that he was hiding something. Vai always saved the best for last.

[Ürei]

“It was a vampire! I know it! First it appears in a cloud of mist, and then it has white skin and sat down in shade! It’s a vampire! We havta call upon the Hunters to slay it! C’mon!”

A fat, excited, and sweating merchant bounced anxiously after his bodyguard, who seemed more in command of this situation then the rich merchant. The man had been glistening from the furious sweating that he had done since running high-tail from the woods, making his disposition even worse then normal. The summer heat baked people of his size, causing Stil –his bodyguard, of course- to watch him with disgust. They were walking at a brisk pace that was evidently painful for the jelly-rolled man to keep, heading towards the local Bounty Agency. Their hopes were to find a Bounty on this ‘pale figure that manifested from mist in the middle of a Sakura Cherry Tree Grove’. Stil, of course, didn’t believe the obese merchant’s telling of events, as she often found the man to exaggerate extremely when he was wrong or being doubted. However, she also knew that the merchant never formed stories from nothing, and always had some truth lying buried beneath cr ap.

Turning, Stil held out a single finger to the merchant, asking him politely to wait outside while she went in and discussed the situation. After wiping his brow, the merchant nodded and sat down on a bench to pant heavily. Stifling a laugh at his lack of endurance, she strode into the musky atmosphere that floated like a miasma in the Bounty Agency. Upon walking in, her near-naked form got quite a few stairs from the Bounty Hunters in the room. Though they were a majority of men, even the women eyed her perfect form. All she wore, currently, was something resembling a bikini, and there were no signs of weapons anywhere on her unblemished body. Unblemished that is, except for two small scars on her back, between her shoulder blades. The scars are perfectly parallel, and run down her back vertically. Her long blond hair was pushed behind a long ear -that was often mistaken for Elven- on one side. Approaching the counter, tended by a female secretary, Stil placed one hand on the bar and began the conversation politely.

“My employer says that he spotted a Vampiric Denizen in the Sakura Cherry Tree Grove a few miles outside of town. This Vampiric Denizen wore all white, and appeared from mist. A distinct feature was that he had fiery auburn hair, and ‘blood red’ eyes. I did not see this creature myself, but wish to see if there is anything on file that resembles him. If you have a picture that resembles my description, I will show it to my employer and we can leave it to your Agents. If not, I am afraid I must dispatch it myself.”

Everyone in that parlor knew that if she dispatched it herself, there would be nothing left of the body to be turned in for a bounty. A few men in the room, who had the misfortune of seeing her kill, shuddered audibly. The lady behind the counter was lucky to have not seen it, but had heard stories of the white light that seemed to remove anything it touched from existence itself. Staring at Stil for a while, the secretary Agent finally looked down and glanced through the library of books that contained bounties in it. They were sectioned off into creature types, and then alphabetized. She was searching through the ‘V’s currently for ‘Vampiric’. They had found out quickly that a lot of creatures fell into the Vampiric category, but were not actually Vampires. Vampiric, being, a creature that is immortal, sucks blood, and is quite a nuisance for the living folk. Finally finding the volume, he bent down and pulled the thick tome from the shelf. Most of these tomes held more then half of their volume in empty pages, but this one was filled out almost to the brim. The weight of the enchanted lead ink they used slowly made the volumes incredibly heavy, and thus they were bound with mythril enchanted to be flexible.

Placing the gigantic tome on the table, the Secretary finally showed the reason for why she was hired for such an important job. Opening the cover of the book only, she placed both hands high above the book and closed her eyes. Soon a draft that had not been present a moment before swept through the room and began turning the pages; first one by one, then faster until they were spinning by at incredible speeds. The Bounty Hunters in the room did not even glance in their direction, for they had become accustomed to the witch’s method of finding bounties by description alone. Finally, the book slammed close and the witch secretary pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose in a very geekish manner. With a shy glance up, she shrugged and hefted the big book, putting it away.

“I guess it is a new creature, and hasn’t been cataloged yet. If you don’t manage to kill it…well…you know the routine.”

Stil nodded to the young girl, then turned and left with the same calm stride she had entered with. Without a page in hand, the fat man knew that he would have to stay in time for a while. He wasn’t allowed to come on the hunting trips she did. With a deep sigh, his eyes wandered off and lingered on the nearby tavern. Spotting the longing expression plastered on the exhausted man’s face, Stil nodded to him, affirming that he would be safe there. After he had safely crossed the street, she turned and whistled loudly; the call responded to shortly by a tremendous roar, then the sound of loud footsteps. Moments later, an enormous tiger bounded from a nearby roof, leaping through the air with powerful grace. Dust and dirt spread out in all directions like a tidal wave when it hit the cobblestone street, then walked slowly to its master to nuzzle her shoulder. Whispering in the tiger’s ear, she mounted the giant white beast bareback and crouched down against it in preparation for the incredibly fast ride. Stil was a skilled rider, and could stay mounted on almost any beast, but Ebry moved at incredible speeds and a single mistake could dismount her in a second. Best not to take unnecessary risks. Tapping on her ear, she whispered a command to the tiger in a strange tongue, then it set off, a white blur running down the street and into the forest.

- - - - - - - - - -

It had been millions of years, yes, maybe more, since I had seen such beauty as what I lay amidst at this moment. A soft showering of water fell on three sides of me, whispering soft songs to me in a tongue that few could speak. The Aquacious was not a tongue that mortals could take on easily, unless aided by third party tampering, nor could many hear it. Most mortals, however, if they listened carefully, could hear a few words or symbolisms of words from the movement of water, yet that limited their ability to hear water to only the moving type. I, however, lay still and silent on a long stone in the middle of a rather large lake, surrounded by a horseshoe waterfall that stretched high above the valley. In the back, hidden from any but the most prying eyes, was a cavernous passage that lead into the cove and exited near Radasanth. Being undisturbed yet by any mortals other then the most forgiving creatures of nature proved that this place was not common ground. The beauty of it, however, surpassed understanding of why any living creature would not linger here.

For, on the far side of the lake, past the rocks that enclosed the water, was a grove of Sakura Cherry Trees that was perfect in its magnificence. With the falling water sprinkling their soft white petals with a consistent soft spring of water, those cherry trees were incredibly healthy. With a smile, I had laid down on the granite, unknowing of what events transpired in the nearby village; the very place that I had avoided in fear of discovery. Since my awakening, none have yet discovered that secret, though it was not closely guarded. My avoidance of living folk, the kind that would be either scared or confused of my existence, had proved keeping a secret quite easy and painless.

Of course, I was also unaware that such avoidance would very soon end.

As I watched the white petals fall in seeming slow motion, an enormous white tiger was mounting the side cove that held the waterfall’s source. Distracted as I was, I did not see the pair until the rider had dismounted and called down to me, using a name that I did not recognize. It had sounded, however, something close to ‘Wampyr’. Curious as to why anybody would call me such an odd name, I turned my eyes up to the cliff edge to stare at an interestingly curved-ridden lady wearing very little clothing. She stood next to the before-mentioned white tiger, whose back reached her shoulders, and she was not short. After a moment, since I did not bother answering, her face contorted into anger and she called out again, this time in a more understandable language.

“Vempeer, you have cursed this beautiful place with your presence. In protection of my charge, I must destroy you, being as you are of the Darkness. It is nothing personal, but I hate your kind and what they have done. Speak now the words that will be your deathbed.”

Unsure of exactly why she considered me ‘dark’ or any of the other things she accused me of, I put my hands behind my head to support myself so that my neck wouldn’t creak before remembering that it couldn’t creak anymore. Shrugging inwardly at the mortal habit, I thought for a second about what to say, making careful notice that the water no longer babbled its lovely songs. Nature knew this creature, as I did not. Turning to the water, my mind sprung forth an idea, and I spoke carefully into the pond, Who is this Lady? What should I do?. After a moment, a face formed in the water, staring at me in horror, and spoke only one word hastily, ridden with panic and fear.

Run!

Blinking twice before my senses came to, I looked up at the girl and realized the water, also, didn’t know my nature. Unsure that running would solve anything, I stayed, but only more surprise came to me.

“Creature of the Night, though you walk at day, you should heed Nature’s advice. You can speak the tongue of the lakes, and if you can speak it I should assume you could also hear it. Studying such a language must of taken most of your lifetime as an Undead, and now is your time to reap its award. If you do run, and never let me see you again, then I might spare your existence for now. However, the next time I see you, I will not be so kind.”

Confused by this development, and what my actions might provoke, my mouth finally opened to speak her language.

“Why should I run?”

This, however, only angered her tremendously.

“You arrogant bastard! Fine! I gave you a chance, now you die!”

Light surrounded her in a nimbus, then spread to encompass her body in a golden aura. From this aura, the light solidified in multiple places, becoming plates of armor that floated, stationary, over sections of her body. Within moments, she was dressed to kill, and my doubt that she had intention to harm me was also solidified, but in a much less dramatic manner. Then, in the palm of one hand, a massive broadsword formed, made of the same gold light but becoming a solid silver blade decorated with golden runes that I did not recognize. Her armor was also embellished, and could not possibly have been crafted by any mortal hand, for not a single piece of it touched her skin. She hefted the blade in one hand, though it seemed like any human would have trouble doing so two handed, and pat the tiger on the head. Obviously fearful of being hurt in the process, the tiger obeyed her gesture and leapt from the cliff, disappearing from my sight. The aura faded, leaving behind only a shimmer that radiated from her silver and gold armor. Shaking her hair out from behind the one ear, a golden tiara formed there, holding it back. She was battle-ready.

Without taking time to converse more, she leapt from the cliff, floating for a moment, then freefalling down in a swan dive, blade at the ready. Thinking this a good time to run, I got on my feet and leapt from my stone, diving into the water only seconds before she landed where I stood. As she landed, the blade she wielded was driven deep into that stone, sending such a powerful force that it blasted the water around the stone outwards violently. A circular wave spread out, deep enough to reveal the grimy bottom of the lake, and slammed against the rock sides of the cove. The opposite shore was soaked, and I stood there staring in mute amazement at the fact that she had almost drained the enormous lake of all its contents. Mortals did not have such power, and it was final proof that she was not, in fact mortal.

With the speed of Eiga, she ripped the blade from the stone, and then leapt from her rock, clearing the wide lake in one leap and swinging again, with more accuracy. Dodging to the side, I was barely missed by the powerfully imbued weapon, and rolled to my feet again, afraid that she might have the power to destroy me in her ignorance if she found out what I was. Persistent as she was, my fear was that she would in fact eventually catch me. With speed that I could not match in Aina, she sliced again and again, coming closer with each swing. Finally, I leapt back and was stopped short by hitting a Sakura. Grunting from the blow, I fell to my butt, my back resting against the tree. Taking the moment in stride, she leapt forward and stabbed the blade deep into my chest, locking me in place there. I could not, unfortunately, pass through inanimate objects in Aina and would not be able to escape unless I moved into Eiga. Doing so would reveal my identity, and most likely only anger her more. However, instead of acting further, she stared at my form that was still moving, yet pinned to the tree, and not bleeding. It was most likely not what she expected.

“Well, it seems that I was right. You are a Vimper, for not a drop of blood falls from your wound. As it seems, you are also quite old, and powerful enough to not be killed by a simple sword blast. No worries, however, I can end this abruptly for both of us.”

With all intent to do so, I considered moving into Eiga now, but still hesitated. Reaching above her head with one hand, she closer her eyes and the aura glowed with renewed intensity. Above that open palm, the golden light began to concentrate, being sucked into a pinprick dot. The golden light snaked around her, swirling into that spot only to make it grow larger and brighter by the moment. The power that flowed from that energy frightened me as nothing in this new world had done before. Even if I escaped into Eiga, this creature would have the ability to chase me down and find me no matter where I went. Billions of years alive, and even more as my current form, and my end to come in the will of a single ignorant hunter; the irony was hilarious, but I dared not laugh.

I could do nothing…but wait for the end.

[Raelyse]

In the bursting metropolis of Radasanth, everyone rushes. Warriors and adventurers rush because they want to pass through to get to the next big enemy that they need to defeat, only slowing down to purchase overpriced, useless "adventuring tools" from the merchants that live here. The residents rush because they must service the merchants so that they can maximize the exploitation of the adventurers that pass through the town. Those that do not have any relation or relationship with any of the above parties run one of the seemingly unlimited bars and pubs that populate the area and they too, must rush.

So that is why when, among the dashing feet and blurred figures on any and every street, a slow moving figure becomes easily spotted among the crowd. It is a rare sight and as you cast your eyes, from wherever you stand to a dashing crowd, seemingly orbiting around a lone, stationary figure, that one person instantly stands out among the crowd. As you begin to focus on that, you begin to notice his features, realizing as you continue to analyze that he seems to be one of those people that is born to stand out in a crowd.

With a healthy, muscular six foot frame and long silver hair billowing down from his head, he cut an impressive figure among the crowd. The clothes were sophisticated and easily stood out from the torn rags or loose fitting, comfortable fitting that the people around him donned. While others did not even think of purchasing new shoes to cover their feet, this one had leather covering his that were polished from right to left, from back to front. Everything about him seemed to be perfect. And when his face rose to reveal his handsome features, it did not seem like that theory would be disproved today. In his right hand he wielded an elegant jet black cane, which he slowly tapped on the ground as he moved slowly through the bustling crowd.

His face moved from right to left, examining the people which moved past him. The amusing thing that was the more he moved, the bigger the smirk on his face seemed to be. It was one of patronization, one almost of amusement as he seemed to be able to examine every single rushing figure as they moved past him, amusing him to no end. Whatever it was about these people that amused him, it seemed to have no end.

[Slayer of the Rot]

The buildings down here were all the same; painted an ugly light brown and in a state of disrepair, junk was strewn through the tall grass entangling the yards of homes, and the people milled about at all hours of the day, shuffling off heartlessly to fourteen hour shifts in the cold, dark factories the city had built on the edges of the slums. Down here, you all wore the clothes given to you so generously by the government, plain white shirts and blue slacks with cheap leather shoes, or if you were unfortunate to be born a women down here, a plain cotton dress. Why was it so unfortunate enough to be a woman down here? The authorities turn a blind eye to this place. The rates of rape and murder are up, women often being taken in broad daylight in their own homes. Down here, everyone smelled like failure and broken dreams, and if you didn't see the neighbors the next morning, maybe they were fortunate enough to have gone on to whatever waits for us beyond this life.

Here was where the sun didn't often shine into every bulding, and Dan Lagh'ratham liked that. As long as he kept down here and killed down here, the CAF forgot about him, no matter the pleas for help. Because every face down here was exactly alike in the eyes of The Assembly and the Barons and the Ministry. The bodies kept washing up in the canals in every state of mudrer, mangled, sliced, shot, whatever your preference, and still the soldiers simply said that despite intensive searches, Dan Lagh'ratham remained elusive and on the loose. While that was largely a lie, a few close packs of soldiers came through once in a while, hidden in robes, randomly searching through houses. They knew that Dan Lagh'ratham wouldn't be happy until he burned down the entire city and everyone in it and pissed on the ashes and rubble. Maybe one day, hoped the people down here, Letho Ravenheart and his Rangers would ride into the slums and take the demon's head. Such a thought was popular (though not likely), and during thier very short breaks in the factories, the workers would often argue and gamble what little money they had on the issue.

Down here, the only thing keeping you company was fear. Fear that you'd be kidnapped and sold into slavery, fear that some one may buckle under the pressure and murder your family in the night, fear that your wife wasn't safe at home while you worked your twelve hour shift, fear that Dan Lagh'ratham would come and take away everything you had left to your name.

That fear wasn't helped by the fact that the monstter walked the streets every day, in blatant disregard to any bounties on his head, or any gaurds coming through. They knew better than to call the soldiers on him, or try to take him in themselves for the money. In his left hand and his right hand rested the power to destroy with a cold hearted efficency. A man who can kill almost two thousand people in the span of only ten, maybe eleven hours, you simply sigh spinelessly and stare at your shoes as he walks by, thankful that he doesn't simple kill you right then and there.

It was all a desolate existence, but sometimes, there was a glimmer of light through all the trash. Dan Lagh'ratham's presence had brought a few minorly wealthy people down here, to a two story bulding with a worn and slightly sagging boxing ring in the bottom. Here, a man could fight against the demon, and if he lasted a minute against him, he could take away his prize; the current pot stood at one thousand gold. Such money clouded the minds of the dirt poor. It gave you delusions of grandeur and hope and dreams of taking care of your swelling family. With six or eight kids and a wife who cries herself to sleep everynight because she knows deep down she'll never be as beautiful as the women at the noble's balls, never shine with their diamonds and sapphires, a man will do anything.

His record stood at sixteen knockouts, for deaths. When the necks had snapped, or their bodies had just given up from all the blunt force trauma being dealt to them, his face hadn't changed. From the outside of the ring, he could hear the terrified screams and unbelieved cries of terror from the man's family, and the soft, slow sobs of their wives as the rushed her children out before they could see the broken bodies of their father. Still, it was the same every night; they always came.

The sun was red as it sank over the horizon; a bleeding cyclop's eye, falling from the heavens at the rush of it's celestial brothers. Inside of the ugly little brown building, the men and women of down here gathered around the rails of the upper story, shouting for blood and broken bones, parting only when Dan Lagh'ratham himself entered, dressed eternally in his immaculate business suit, stone faced. He walked directly off the side of the floor of the upper story and fell right into the ring, knees bending only slightly as he landed. The overhead lights flashed on, bright and bleary, making him squint. In the middle of the dirty, yellowed canvas ring stood a table, upon which he placed his weapons; a black revolver, and six simple iron throwing knives. Like always, he kept his entire suit on, and walked towards the upper left corner of the ring, slipping his hands into his pockets and turning around to watch a pair of officials take away the table.

Their was no announcer. No need for it. The unspoken rules; one at a time, first man in gets the chance to fight with the demon, last a minute and win a hefty pot of gold. From the nameless and blurring faces of the milling crowd came a man with a strong looking body, his hair cut short, a dark shade of blonde, though whether or not it was from a lack of washing it was an issue the slayer had no interest to discuss. He climbed into the ring quickly, before anyone else could, barechested and assuming a common boxing stance in his government issue blue slacks. Without a word, the slayer stood from the post at the corner and began to walk towards his challenger, hands still in his pockets.

The show began.

[Cyrus the virus]

"The good thing is," Vai continued, "the crystals themselves can amplify our power to some degree. It seems that deep within them there is a spark, and when it's tapped by a spell caster’s power, they grant power to the user."

"You've... Created a means of making a wizard's magic more effective?" Crowley asked. "Nothing like that has ever been done, to my knowledge!"

Vai gave him a half-smile and basked in the honor shed upon him. "Not to mine, either."

"And you're the one who created such a thing?" Illia scoffed. "I don't believe it. There have been a thousand-thousand brilliant inventors in history, and none of them ever accomplished something of that caliber. Knowing you as well as I do, I find all of this very suspicious."

"Yeah, you're way too dumb for something so advanced," Coartez added, bringing the anger Vai was going to put on Illia back to him.

"Oh am I?" Vai asked, as he pulled a light blue crystal from his pocket, placed it on the table and slid it across to Coartez' pudgy, waiting fingers. "That crystal is yours, Coartez, so feel free to examine it as much as you like."

"Do you plan on giving us ours as well, Vai?" Crowley asked. "Or are you only going to reward that slob of a man with this... New development?"

Vai smiled weakly at that. "The crystals are still incomplete. There are problems with them that prevent me from just handing them out to you all, otherwise I'd just do so."

"So why give him his?" Illia countered.

Vai, rather than verbally answer the question, extended a bony finger to point at the jumbled mass of Coartez that sat at the other end of the table. One by one, the others turned to look at him, to see him lost completely in the crystal, his eyes glazed and his mouth hanging open.

"What happened to him?" Freesh asked.

"As the wizard who I created the crystal to go with, when he looks into the item, his magic and the magic of the crystal form a bond. Because of Coartez' idiot mind, it's no surprise that he's become completely enthralled in the crystal." Vai responded. They watched Coartez for a moment longer, as Vai let the surprise sink in and disappear. "If we did nothing, he would stare into it like that until his body wasted away. It pays to be intelligent."

Vai came to Coartez then, carrying a velvet pouch dangling from a silver rope. He opened it, slid the crystal inside and then closed it up tightly. Almost immediately, Coartez snapped back into reality, though he didn't clean the spit off of his mouth right away. "Huh?" He mumbled.

"Here, Coartez," Vai said gently. "Take this pouch, and don't you dare look inside, or what just happened to you will happen again. When you get back to your bunker in Corone, have Poladine run tests on it using the extraction engine or the generator I installed."

Coartez nodded weakly, but even he wasn't stupid enough to disagree, considering what just happened to him... Or what he thought had happened. He felt as if a moment in time had just skipped past him, and he didn't like it one bit. He shook his head and took the pouch by its rope and stood up, walking toward the wall. Remarkably, it opened up as he approached, and Coartez walked right through the hole into the "air" of the strange realm. He then created a gash in the very space before him, and stepped through a sea of stars to appear back in Althanas.

There was a pause among the remaining Adept, a quiet that only came when a startling revelation emerged. "Vai, this is... Stunning," Brash mentioned.

"Indeed it is," Crowley added.

Vai smiled and nodded. "Let's just see what my little experiment reveals about the crystal."

==<><>==

Coartez emerged in his bunker, a low level facility which acted as his headquarters. Poladine, his resident expert on magic and technology, was hardly surprised to see him. After all, Coartez had been using these strange dimension gates for as long as they'd known each other.

"Good meeting?" Poladine asked.

"Pah," Coartez spat. "Vai needs you to run some tests on this," he continued, handing the pouch over. "Wait until I'm gone before you do it, and give me the results once you're done."

With that, Coartez turned and opened the door to the small, confined room he had appeared in. Poladine was left slightly baffled, not knowing what tests to run or what he held, but as he revealed the crystal, he understood. "Aah, wonderful!" He exclaimed, walking quickly over to where one of the generators stood.

"We've had this generator so long, with so little to use it for. Maybe with this, we can finally begin to build!"

Poladine placed the crystal into a small slot which held it perfectly, right in the center of the machine. The crystal glimmered as if in response, but Poladine didn't notice. He flicked a switch near the bottom of the machine, and it suddenly flared to life, flashing lights and vibrating. The crystal began to glow, and everything began to work effectively. There were many smaller machines in the tiny room, and they began to react as well.

The room itself was at the very bottom of Coartez' bunker, in a large cavern that had rows of ledges with descending staircases, much like a coliseum where the stairs reached the bottom. Just in front of the machine room there was a platform, with a large orb above it. It was here that the device was supposed to create the first of the monsters, but nothing happened.

Back inside, Poladine looked closely at the crystal, which was shifting back and forth in color from dark to light blue. "What's happening with this?" He wondered, and before he could think another thought, the room erupted in blue light and Poladine simply ceased to think.

The wave of light came from the orb above the platform and encompassed all that it touched, freezing anything from the floor to a wire, and it moved fast. Coartez wasn't even out of the chamber when he felt its presence, and turned with just enough time to let out a scream of terror as the light took him.

==<('.'<)==

Luc Kraus sat at the wharf, his feet dangling over the side of the dock, just barely above the water. The sun was descending slowly below the horizon, casting an orange reflection across the water. The glare hurt Luc's eyes, but he needed to see the sunset... Just once. In recent times he'd been feeling aimless and without purpose, he needed something to bring him back to life.

Radasanth was a better place than most to find a reason to live, what with the hustle of the people and the many places to visit, but he just didn't feel it. He was tired and lazy, had no motivation or drive. He felt incomplete, as if a part of him was gone.

And in fact, he held felt that way his whole life, ever since his powers were stolen. One of the most horrible things to do to a child is to betray his trust, to shatter it and leave him with questions and inhibitions, which is exactly what the six did to Luc's childhood. The mage let a deep sigh escape him, for he truly didn't want to relive the moment again as he had so many other times.

"No point in dwel-" he began, but was interrupted by the sudden influence of magic rushing toward him.

He jumped up quickly and looked in the direction it was coming from, past the forest. His eyes shot wide, as he had never experienced something like it before. "It's... Unbelievable."

Then the light appeared. It was only faint, but Luc knew it was coming fast. He dropped to one knee and created a barrier of wind around himself, strengthening it as much as could. A split second later, the light surrounded him, passed him, and kept on going. Luc shut his eyes and focused into the barrier, eventually driving the light away from him, but when he opened his eyes, the world had changed.

The pier at his feet was normal, brown wood, but all about him things were cold and gloomy. Just before him was a small boat which had been rocking in the waves, but now it was still. No longer did the sound of water hit his ears, as the entire sea was frozen. All of it, as far as his vision could tell, was still and cold.

He looked toward the town, where all of the buildings appeared to be the same way, every blade of grass leading up to Radasanth was coated in a sheer layer of ice, every step leading away from the wharf the same way. Fearing the worst, Luc leapt into flight and headed toward the city.

[Ürei]

“Your time is up!”

The insanely powerful women spoke, the energy attack that she was forming seeming to solidify with this comment. Her countenance was replaced by a broad grin that gave me deathly chill, if such creatures as I could be chilled anymore. Locked in place by the blade through my stomach, all I could do to escape would be a death delayed. The prophecy has died.

Or not…?

For it seems that when you have lived for as long as I, such things as Karma and Fate begin to become solid and real. Most creatures only have a few examples to base their opinions on, but I have seen a thousand times over a life saved or catastrophe adverted by sheer ‘luck’. The one with bad karma loses, and the one with good karma wins. Knowing not the exact karmic position of my executor, I could not bet my ‘luck’ on intuition alone that karma would save me from the end of my fulfillment of the prophecy, but, the prophecy itself may be the kicked that’s driven the stake home. As for whether it was a good blessing or bad, I did not know. All this was the mental contemplation that followed an event so unforeseen that I considered it a blunt kick in the face on the side of the Fates. What happened?

- Everything froze. -

As I watched her bring her hands down, a blue light invaded the hair and became a shocking pathogen to her well-being. Upon contact with her skin, the illustrious glimmer coated every fiber of her being with a sheet of ice. Frosty icicles formed from various parts of her body, and her face was locked in a form of sheer horror. Reaching out, I grabbed the hilt of the blade, then faded into Eiga. There, the scene was even more gruesome. Phantoms of every plant and living creature were locked in place here, even a raven, in mid flight, floating above the ground and transparent. Here, in my home, they were as I was; ghosts of their true grandeur. Taking one realistic step closer to the phantom of the women who was apparently not yet destined to end my existence, I faded back into life.

The one beautiful scene had been brought to an even higher tier of loveliness, and if it weren’t for my own kind consideration for the type of man that resided in this land, I would of left it as such. These creatures had a way of always adverting their destruction, and had existed for quite some time. No worries, their end would come in time, as did all things end.

Dancing around the freeze-dried remains of what was once a forest here, I searched my memory for a place where solutions may be found. With the knowledge that little could be done in my current state, I turned and reached out, touching the frozen face of the girl. Surprisingly, my hand contacted the ice and did not pass through, for she now was, in fact, inanimate. Life had been taken from her, but only half of it, and she might survive if the spell was removed. Crossing once more in Eiga, I set out at top speed across the land, spanning the wide oceans and coming to a desolate land that many avoided in Aina, and I oft found myself detesting. Lacking any semblance to beauty, or to the magnificent civilization that thrived here in when I had been among the waking, this place grieved me.

Once more bridging the gap between the realms, I approached an enormous temple. Being as it was hidden in a tall mountain range, surrounded by vast living graveyards, it was quite inaccessible to most living creatures. Residing within was an oracle whom could not be defined as alive, nor dead, but beyond both. Approaching the door, a voice echoed out from deep within.

“Enter, Samyreth.”

Expecting such from one that knows all that will happen, and many that has, I nodded and approached the self-opening doors. Without care for the ornate semblance to my own world’s likings, this building gave me no pleasure to enter. Here, I was solid, in Aina or Eiga, and that fact alone scared me. Walking across the floor, I once more heard my own footsteps, a sound that had not met my ears in eons. Standing before the figure that sat, masked and draped with a white cloth, at the head of the temple, I showed my calm respect by falling to one knee before proceeding.

“You know what I want, Ephellion.”

“Indeed I do, Samyreth. It had been a long time since you have come here to learn about this world, and a long time it will be before you do so again. You answer will be given, when you learn what you ask.”

Groaning at how he had forgotten that Ephellion only answered the right questions, I thought for a moment then spoke once more.

“Tell me how to return the forest that has been frozen to its former glory, that of a living place.”

“Destroy the fake rock.”

It wasn’t enough information, but it was the truth…just not the whole truth. A fake rock would mean something that was of earth, but made by man. That could be anything, a fortress, a house, or even a ring. “Is that all you will tell me?”

“I only answer one question, Samyreth.” Nodding to her, I turned and walked out. Upon reaching the gates, I instantly stepped into Eiga again.

This was going to take some thought...

[Raelyse]

Haste had never been one of Raelyse's most dominant character traits. In fact, it had never been something that the prince though was necessary in his life, never mind something that was implemented on a regular basis. He had always told himself that the only people that needed urgency in their lives were those that were unlucky and lazy. Unlucky because of the predicament they had been born in and lazy not to bore themselves out of it. Raelyse deserved his status as prince and nothing could ever take that away from him. As long as he lived, he would always be royalty and as a result, he would never ever need to quicken his pace for anyone.

Radasanth had always been one of his favorite places for that reason. Now that Myrusia was a distant memory, the only place that the prince could get anywhere near the kind of respect that he received in his homeland was this little town in Corone. In Alerar, Raelyse admired the wealth that he could exploit through the Dwarven mines while Raiaera's elegant elves were one of the few things that had the prince's respect. In Corone, he enjoyed the surplus of working class peasants. Excessive leisure time always ensured that Raelyse was always entertained, but one of his favorite pastimes was looking down, smirking at common people. After this boosted his ego considerably, the prince would head off and find the nearest place where he could clutch the wench with the largest bosoms and treat her to the largest room in the most luxurious inn where she would enjoy the best morning/afternoon/night of her young life. Then he'd step out of the balcony, throw his long silver hair backwards and admire himself, looking down at the townspeople before wondering how he could be the best at everything.

Today's schedule was slated to be no different.

But the first bar the prince stepped into showed no more promise than the mob that crowded outside its premises. His feet had grown tired though and at the moment, he could scarcely think that he would have the energy to pleasure a woman, nor the energy to tolerate the poor excuses for foreplay she would throw at him. Tapping his cane loudly on the wooden bar floor as he advanced onto the counter, he could not help but stare condescendingly at every single peasant within the bar. They either went back to their drinks or looked away, hiding feelings of rage. In this middle class part of town, they seemed to fear those that dressed the way that Raelyse did. It represented wealth and power that they dared not oppose for fear of Corone's politics.

When the barkeeper cocked his head to the side and asked the prince in a short tone what he wanted, Raelyse could only smile back before replying, "One executive room, please and..." the prince allowed his eyes to wander the area, before spying a buxom blonde girl at the back of the bar washing dishes. "I'd like one of everything that you serve with..." he paused again, his head tilting slightly to indicate his target.”...her."

The bartender flinched for a second, about to open his mouth to protest against letting someone like this stare lecherously at his daughter, but before the thoughts could manifest themselves as words, his customer had already ascended the stairs, the only signs of him remaining was the sound of his cane slamming loudly on the wooden steps.

As soon as his fingers turned around the door knob, the prince of Myrusia instantly threw the cleaning lady out before throwing himself onto the bed, flinging his boots to either sides of the room. Before he knew it, the pillows sucked his head into them and his eyes closed. He had seldom felt anything more than minimum fatigue, but still he could not help but fall asleep quickly and sleep soundly. Raelyse had his usual dreams of the eventual power that he felt that he would receive in the future, coupled with being worshipped by everyone from Devon Starslayer to Leopold Stevens. He dreamt of returning to his homeland, throwing his father off the frozen throne of Myrusia before assuming control of the icy kingdom. He would rule so well that even the ice itself would melt as a sign of his greatness. In this dream though, it did not seem like that would happen, because he was freezing. As the images of Althanas' heroes of yesterday slowly became ice statues, his body threw itself awake.

Raelyse's body instantly jumped alert as he awoke, a whisker away from jumping off the bed and onto his feet. The first thing that alerted to him was a sudden surge of power. His whole body pulsed with energy. He had not felt this good, this powerful... for a long time. He held his fingers up to his face, observing as magical energy literally throbbed from his fingers. Blue sparks jumped off his fingers, landing softly on his face. His face instinctively flinched backwards, a bit surprised at the feeling.

He was cold.

[Slayer of the Rot]

Patience.

It was key to fighting the slayer, who often let his anger run away with itself. Have patience, and watch the man misstep, open himself wide for one painful and important blow. It didn't always work, especially with the advent of Adrammalech, but in situations such as these, it was best to simply wait. To bide one's time, to try and find weakness.

He stood straight, silent, with a small smile on his face as the blonde man circled him, eyes flickering over his body, trying to find a hint of how to fell the beast. There was perhaps, one other reason for the man's hesitation, that he remembered with a short, small laugh. The first man he'd killed right here in this ring (he could still see the brownish stain of his blood on the canvas), had jumped right at him. Without a second's hesitation, the slayer had broken his neck in one solid stroke of his powerful arm, turning his head completely around on it's shoulders. His body had thumped into Dan's own, then slid pitifully to the floor, the ring all but silent for his family's screams.

Still, there was something about this blonde man that made him ill at ease. It was something he couldn't wuite put his finger on, but it fell on the man's posture and movements. They were low and spoke of grace and balance, cat like almost with each of his precise steps. Hazel eyes and brown eyes locked -- and the blone man moved.

With a single bound of his lithe, light legs, the man leapt backwards onto one of the ring posts, then lunged forward in an incredible feat of agility, his boots forward, and had the slayer not seen the flash of steel flick out of the toes, he'd have let the man collide with him. Stepping to the side, he scowled as the knives passed an inch from his neck, and struck the man in his side, rewarded with the feeling of two ribs giving way. 'An assassin, eh?' The blonde man tumbled through the air, recovered, and dashed towards the slayer, who delivered another blow to the man's chest, dropping him to the ground. "I get your kind at least three times a week, cutthroats that these spineless worms hired..." Dan stomped his shoe down onto the man's back, staying steady as the blonde man squirmed beneath it. "...usually for the fact I killed someone in their families. It disgusts me, really, that they can;t work up the guts to do it themselves."

"Weaklings!" He shouted, burning hazel eyes sweeping out at the shrinking crowd, and failed to see the spike of bone erupt from the assassin's elbow in a spray of blood, punching into his leg. "Eh? Who left the door open so bees could get in?" Scowling, he lifted his foot, and the man scrambled up and away quickly as the slayer pulled the bone from his leg. "Well...you're not just any assassin, are you? These pathetic little shits wouldn't be able to afford your price even if they pooled all their gold." A grin stretched his scarred lips as the bone trembled, then shattered in his grip. "Who hired you?" But just as he figured, he received no answers, as claws burst from each knuckle in smaller splashes of gore. "Fine, you can di -- what the hell is that?"

It came first as an aching cold at the back of his skull, as from a sense long forgot, then suddenly renewed itself, stabbing at the back of his eyeballs with frigid blades. Then the light came, and his heart stopped.

He'd spent so much time around it, felt it manipulated in his few battles with Luc Kraus, the he couldn't help but taste the raw magic in it. It was a cold that went farther even than your bones, nipping at your soul with wicked little icicle teeth. It tired his muscles, his soul, his mind, and the edges of his vision began to gray. In moments, he knew that the cold was going to take him and bury him under a thousand years worth of snow, and all he'd ever see again was white.

But he fought. He pushed angrily, defiant against it. He aimed his will towards breaking free from his polar prison, refused to simply let it take him quietly into the night. He had always fought, if he'd simply been passive about everything, he'd have ended up the main course of some ghoul's palette on earth. The ice around his jaw cracked and crumbled away, and his mouth fell open, a bellow of fury erupting from his lips, a sound no human could make.

It grew violently in decible, and even as his form shook, the thick ice about his body shivering and cracking, the sad little statues of the lost people around him trembled too, as though in fear. He pushed against the winter that sought to steal away his life, fought against the urge to fall asleep forever and never close his eyes, and when his voice grew to it's apex, and the brittle windows shattered in the building, the ice broke away in chunks and sharp shards, one fist sized peice taking off the assassin's head. His form shook terribly from the cold he suspected he'd remember 'till his death, and his ears were filled with the sounds of shattering and cracking ice, as the people were broken.

Dan drew in a sharp breath that bit at his throat, and unable to find the words, emitted another frustrated shout as his eyes went about the room. It was nothing but an arctic tomb, filled with corpses lost in a forever winter, and the slayer had never been so pissed off in his life.

[Cyrus the virus]

And so the world stopped.

For the first time in 7,000 years, when the land was first founded, not a breath was drawn in the land of Corone. Three men and a specter were all that remained of Althanas’ most multicultured continent. Luc descended in Radasanth's market road, a place nearly deafening on any given afternoon, and found it halted. His feet hit the icy ground and nearly flew out from under him, but the mage managed to recover awkwardly.

He looked around, slowly, unbelieving of what he saw. To his right was a merchant holding out a fruit to a woman, both were completely stationary and covered in a thin blue coating, glimmering like a crystal. Luc turned his face to the right, but his eyes lingered on the scene for a moment longer, checking to see if the man would move if he thought Luc was turning his attention away.

The mage looked down the road, down the rows upon rows of frozen men and women. No end of the cold, horrible statues in sight. In utter shock he looked upon a girl a few feet ahead of him, kneeling to her eye level and examining her face. He tapped on her head, and it was as hard as any steel.

Slowly Luc rose back to a standing position. Breathlessly he looked around, like a lost child, for some sign of life. "I... Don't understand," he whispered.

He fell to his knees and then onto his hands, weeping in both fright and anger. It was the end of times, the wrath of the Gods sweeping over the world, and he was the sole survivor, left to dwell in this soulless world by his lonesome. There would be no food, and he would die alone. He tried to think of the last time he’d spoken to someone, but couldn’t recall.

Luc screamed, pointed his hands toward the frozen girl and tried to melt the ice that imprisoned her, though he knew it would not work. As if he'd never had any magical prowess at all, the ice simply refused to yield. He drew the Flame Dagger of Slykrit and thought to use it, but fearing that it would simply melt the girl as well, he sheepishly put it back in its sheath.

"Is this the end, then?" He asked softly, not expecting an answer. "The world ends, and I am fortunate enough to witness it? What humor do the Gods find in this?"

A scream -- no, a roar -- echoed through the city, breaking the absolute silence that had befallen Radasanth. Regardless of how far away it was, a sound like that could not have gone unnoticed by the only living man on Corone. Something else was there.

It sounded inhuman, but it was alive. No matter what impression it made on the mage, Luc needed to investigate. He leapt up, slipped just a little, and took to the sky, flying with all speed toward the source of the sound.

The slums of Radasanth looked just like the rest of the city, and in fact, the area was oddly beautiful as it gleamed in the orange light of sunset. There was no more indication of life here than there was on market road, but Luc knew there was something. One building housed broken windows, a dead giveaway. Luc flew through one of them.

The room was dark and cold. Without the sun’s influence, this land had no warmth. Luc could barely see the ceiling in the blackened building, but he could see the ring, the centerpiece of this gathering place.

Maybe it was the man's build, or simply his way of standing, but Luc recognized him right away. The mage was at his back, slowly drifting over toward the stage that sat at the center of the room. Shards of ice littered the ground, but Luc tried not to imagine what they were from. He simply landed in the ring, behind the gladiator, looking at the man's back in awe, fear or recognition. Luc didn’t know what he felt.

Something was different between them, even though Luc hadn’t seen the Slayer since their last battle. It was something he sensed, but the mage had gone too far to turn back now. Luc didn’t speak a word, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that Dan hadn’t somehow detected him.

[Raelyse]

It was happening, it was finally happening. After twenty years, he was finally going to get what he deserved. The sensation was incredible. As Raelyse sat on the edge of the bed, watching as magical energy literally jumped off his fingers and onto the area around him, there was only one thought that rushed vigorously through his mind - he was powerful now. Nothing mattered, nothing else mattered except for the fact that he had gained immense power suddenly. Raelyse did not care how he had received such power or even what type of power it was, only that he had it. All his life he had searched for a way to gain strength and now that he had it, he could only laugh that all he needed to do was take a nap and what he wanted would be his.

Eager to observe the extents of his new found vigor, the prince instantly rose to his feet. He knew that his curse had been removed. He now stood on two feet as easily as any other person. His right leg, which had been crippled by the effect of the magical stones on his back, now functioned as if it had never been disabled at all. But it was not just his leg that was enjoying a newfound energy, his entire body was pulsing with it. Blue sparks of energy started to make their way from his body, landing in an area around him. As soon as they hit the ground, they liquefied into small pools of water before freezing instantly.

This magic was not the only thing that was jumping off the prince's body though, for excitement seemed to leak off his very face. He made his way forward, not noticing that as he walked, he left behind himself magically formed footprints, made completely out of ice. Even when he disabled the curse, either by use of his magical rings or the stones on his back, he never felt this powerful. There was always something holding him back, reminding him that he was a cripple. Not this time though... This time he felt as if he had never even known the existence of such an ability infecting itself on him. Raelyse made his way into the bathroom, eager to see whether his newfound strength had changed him.

As he was about to enter the toilet, he noticed that as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, magical energy instantly dashed via his body and through his fingertips, manifesting itself as icy imprints of the prince's digits on the doorknob. As he turned it, the entire mechanism snapped, causing the door to slowly swing open. Unlike the normal person, Raelyse, instead of demonstrating surprise, cocked his head backwards and let out a loud rancorous laugh. "So, this is what it feels like..." he said, as he raised his fist to his face, clenching it tightly. His fingers felt as if they had been immersed into snow. "So powerful that the common people's norms are too weak for me... So powerful that even I start to feel..."

As his grip tightened, the prince's smirk sagged downwards for a moment.

"... Uncomfortable."

[Slayer of the Rot]

In the dark, he crouched, knuckles to the frost encrusted canvas, breathing heavily. Down here in the dark dwelled a terrible beast, the boogeyman that mothers warned their children off to scare them straight. The problem was, this one was real, real enough to reach through the windows and steal their firstborn in the middle of the night, dragged them down here and left nothing but the gnawed bones. Not many dared to venture down into the dark, where the broken corpses lay in a place that smelled like a meat locker on a bad day, but as the winds changed and brought a frigid, turgid whipping blast, one came and braved the depths.

The eyes that turned to look at the mage, to enrapture him in the beast's primal slaughter seemed to glow a pale green, taking in the light that found it's way down. Slowly it turned, the red, foul smelling slassh dripping from it's hands and the smart business suit it wore -- and stood straight, giving Luc a terrible scowl. "Oh, it's you," Dan Lagh'ratham snarled as he brushed off errant bits of ice, reaching into his jacket to extract a pair of dark glasses. The rime crunched under his leather shoes as he moved about in the gloom, going to the little table to the one side of the room and freeing his weapons from the ice that seeked to hold them forever with one, precise, light blow. "What a surprise that you survived that...that...whatever the hell that was." His experienced hands moved over the revolver, disassembling it, allowing him to clean it free of the ice. It was back together just as fast, and a test shot into one of the remaining people ascertained the gun was fine.

The gunshot continued to echo out through the air, and it almost disturbed him. He couldn't remember a tiime before when the city of Radasanth, so fresh for the killing, had felt so hollow and empty. While it was in check, the rage that boiled his blood still burned; how dare someone do something like this, and take any glistening, bloody shine from his name? The people of Radasanth were his ground cherries to cleave, and none other. "For your sake, this had been not be your doing, Kraus. You'll be begging to be hung, burned, shot, beaten, raped, and drawn and quartered by the time my hands are done with you if it is," he growled, moving past the mage and with a single bound, found himself walking out into the streets of the slums.

Spire like towers of ice rose from the frozen bulding, making him squint even behind his glasses as the sun shined through it, that much brighter. they looked like castles better suited for the likes of Salvar, as were the subjects that were forever stopped in time, milling about in their halted lives. Though one encrusted window, he even saw a large family huddled around the table, spoons stopped halfway in motion, the yellowish soup spilling over the side. Several of them looked excited, stopped in mid sentence, perhaps telling each other some depressingly funny story of what had happened that day in their grueling shift at the mill. Dan approached one of these chilly mannequins, wrapped his hand around it's head, and shattered it, cold, gruesome chunks of gore crumbling to the ground.

"Problematic."

[Cyrus the virus]

Yes... He's different. Luc thought as Dan moved slowly, purposefully about the room, cleaning a gun and testing it. The shot made Luc shrink back from the sheer loudness. The mage had only seen a gun twice, and only seen one fired once before. Twice, now. It was truly a frightening weapon.

The mage remained silent as Dan made his threat. Despite how level the man's tone, how serious he seemed and his apparent lack of care for the people around him, encased in ice, Luc was sure it was an empty threat. They had strong history, a mutual respect for each other's power... At least that's what he believed. Dan leapt toward the window and out into the streets without even a look toward Luc, but the mage soared after him.

"I didn't do this," Luc called, following Dan from inches off the icy ground. "I'm not sure what did, but it may be possible to do something about it."

It was then that Dan reached out and crushed the head of a frozen man, spilling blood, brain and hunks of bone over the cold ground. The disgusting scene made Luc want to wretch, but instead he flew around the bulky warrior to stand before him and the road ahead.

"Stop it," he dared to say to the volatile man. "These people can be saved. When that boy is returned to the world of the living, the first thing he'll see is his father's skull shattered."

Expecting the worst, Luc floated back to make some distance between then. "I don't know what's come over you, Dan, but you won't kill another person while I'm with you. Not another frozen statue of an innocent Radasanthian. Get a hold of yourself, my friend, my brother. Come with me to the source, we can reverse this effect."

It was a long shot, he knew, considering Dan had become something that didn't appear to feel, or show any strong emotion toward killing. Luc remembered a time when Dan hesitated to kill him in a Citadel battle. Killing in the streets of the city was worlds apart from the Citadel, and spoke volumes of the changed Dan had faced.

Luc was going to find out how far these changes had reached.

==(>'.')>==

"It doesn't surprise me," the scientist Vai noted, inspecting the still form of Coartez at the top of the cavernous chamber. "I had an idea that something like this would happen, which is why I let him try it out first. The crystals still aren't stable enough to use. Dammit."

"Looks like you aren't are smart as you thought," cackled Illia, enjoying Vai's apparent failure. He was poking Coartez' head with a crooked finger. "I'm still marveled at how strong this ice is."

The two wizards, seconds after Radasanth's freezing, had come to Coartez' Corone bunker to check on how things were. Neither was too concerned with the state of the land, seeing as they had little interest in Corone at all. Even the loss of Coartez was of no consequence, he being the most ridiculous and annoying of the Adept Six.

But Vai wanted the crystal back. They had attempted to remove it from the machine, but even Illia's most powerful fire magic was unable to melt the ice. It was almost unworldly, the strength of the ice around the bunker.

"Don't mock my abilities in science, Illia. A breakthrough in the realms of magic takes time, but I'll accomplish it," Vai said calmly, before turning to the flame wizard. "We can't do anything here for now, let's get back to the Tower. With some research, perhaps I can learn a way to reverse this effect and retrieve the crystal."

"Why don't you just make another one?" Illia asked before Vai could leave.

The wizard of thunder looked upon him incredulously, with some condescension in his eye. "It took me three years to make that crystal! I'm not going to waste another chunk of my life making another when there's a perfectly good one right here."

With that, Vai cut a hole in space and stepped through the rift, which led to the strange land where the Tower was the only thing with real substance. Illia followed quickly, and the mend repaired itself a moment later, and it was as if the two had never been there.

[Raelyse]

The first thing that he did in the bathroom was to brush the shards of ice from his mirror and begin to admire the unobstructed reflection of himself in the mirror. "Strange," he snickered to himself. "I always imagined the day I became a god, I would look different." Raelyse allowed his lips to twist into a smirk... Still the same old expression that permanently decorated his face. The prince of Myrusia then proceeded to strip off his clothing, thinking that perhaps his little nap had tainted his body slightly and he needed to clean himself off. As soon as his shirt hit the floor, a sudden chill instantly swept over his entire body. Shivering, he lifted his clothing back up and slipped it over his shoulders, at least covering his body. Reaching inside the shower, he twisted the knob, awaiting the warm water that would flow out and heat his body up.

Nothing.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. First, they screw up the heating, and then they decide that a fucking prince doesn't need to shower." Raelyse decided, for now at least, that he did not want to waste his time, for all he wanted was to beautify. Invoking his powers, he decided to force the water out from inside the pipes. He searched for it, trying to feel its presence. And he did.

Just not in the way that he wanted. It was frozen. Every drop was now solid ice. "Never mind," the prince said, his lips forcing a smile. "Today's a good day, I'll just complain..."

Raelyse then tried the next of his talents, the ability to rapidly melt ice into water. "... Later," he murmured to himself. Thrusting his right hand forward, the prince began to twist it slowly, focusing his energy on the task at hand. He would do this. He knew he could.

Wait... No he couldn't.

The prince toiled and toiled, his mind never shifting from the task that he felt was so important. But no, the ice would not even come close to melting.

"Okay," the prince said between clenched teeth. "I'm angry now."

Storming out of his room without even bothering to button his shirt, his only aim in life was to give the owners of this fine establishment a piece of his mind. How was he to enjoy these new found talents if he looked like a slob?

Strangely, Raelyse felt a strange force emanating from the entrance to his room. It was almost as if there was an invisible wall in between him and it, blocking him from using it. The prince did not believe such a thing could exist though, so he shook his head slightly, blinked a few times and sure enough, found that it was nothing but his mind playing tricks on him.

So without a second thought, he pushed his way through the door, his fingers breaking the doorknob just like it had the last.

Only this time, he did not get the view that he wanted, obstructed or not.

[Letho]

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