Carry On My Wayward Son

[Letho]

((Closed to Dissinger and Zantetsuken))

The air was getting eerie. The closer they edged towards the island on the horizon, the denser it seemed, pressuring her from all sides, as if it was opposed to her presence. Only it wasn’t the normal kind of pressure, not of the kind one would feel when venturing deep below the surface of the earth, not the kind that would cause shortness of breath and physical heaviness. No, this sensation she felt was nothing that could be felt with mundane senses; it was a pulsating presence of something powerful, something alive, some kind of invisible current that seemed to flow away from the island in all directions. This reverse magnetism seemed to push against her magic-sensitive mind, making it clear that she was unwelcome here. That they were all unwelcome here.

This sense of deflection did nothing to alleviate Lorelei’s nervousness. The teenage lass paced about the main deck of the ship like someone waiting a stage coach long overdue, lifting her head every once in a while to see almost no apparent progress in approaching the island. The fingers of her right hand snapped at regular intervals, following the rhythm struck by her footsteps and the butt end of her staff on the planks below. And with each dull thud of the staff a tongue of flame came to life at the tip of her thumb only to die out moments afterwards, making room for another. And another. And another. The northern wind played with both her gray robes and renegade locks of her mahogany hair, but she seemed to care for her attire and her ponytail not at all. The only thing occupying her mind was the Island and the reason she came to it.

Letho Ravenheart was supposed to be on the Island. And while these days Letho Ravenheart was supposed to be in many places at the same time where he’s supposed to do a whole lot of unconfirmed things, his presence on the Tempus Island was corroborated from several resources. For one, there were two other people onboard of The Wicked Wench that sought him and they too believed that the legendary swordsman was on the Island. Lorelei disliked both their presence and their interest in Letho, more so because both seemed to be goaded to this far end of the world by untrue stories. Letho Ravenheart murdering holy men, Letho Ravenheart senselessly taking lives, Letho Ravenheart losing his mind, that’s what the other two seemed to believe. The young sorceress knew those stories were lies, had to be. One as great as Lethk couldn’t have fallen that far from grace.

Lighting another flame at the tip of her finger, Lorelei let the wind snuff it out as her eyes went toward their destination once again. The Tempus Island, home of the reclusive Time Mages, was creeping closer, like a giant tortoise with a well camouflaged shell. She could already see the sharp, stony ridges and the rich flora beyond them, the treacherous capes jutting from the land and the azure bays they protected. There was almost nothing that differentiated this island from the hundreds they passed on their journey here. Nothing save that invisible hand that constantly pushed her back.

The captain of the ship, a dark-skinned Fallien man with a shiny bald head, bawled something in his native language and his crew went from lazing to anthill-busy in a matter of seconds. Up the ropes and ladders they went like human spiders, rolling up the sails as The Wicked Wench slowly started to shift course. Once the three-mast ship was parallel to the faraway island and lost most of its speed, the captain shouted once again and one of the men dropped the anchor. The Tempus Island, basked in the river of fire set alight by the setting sun, was still some two miles away.

“What’s going on?” Lorelei mumbled to herself, looking around in confusion. Since nobody answered her question (and nobody probably heard it either), she made her way up to the helm where the rugged-faced captain was issuing additional orders to her seamen. “Captain, why have we stopped? The Island is right there!” She gestured with her pale hand towards the only chunk of land visible in the endless ocean, but the Fallien man didn’t even make an effort to look towards it.

“As far as I go,” the man said with a heavy accent, wiping his skull clean of the sweat. “That island, very wrong. No closer than this. You want to go, go.” He nodded towards a group of men that worked on lowering a rowboat into the water. “Three days we wait. Four days, we leave.” Even if she wanted to discuss this – which she most certainly did – the captain gave her no chance to do so. He tied the helm down with a piece of rope and retreated in his quarters at the stern of his ship.

Ultimately, Lorelei didn’t blame the man. The Island did feel wrong, out of place somehow, its colors as bland as if it was not really alive. As if it was just a fading picture of the place you once visited. But she had to go there. She had to find Letho and find out the truth.

Sighing in surrender, the red-haired magician made her way down the short flight of stairs and towards the open space in the bulwarks where the sailors slowly lowered the rowboat on two lengths of rope. Her two companions – with whom she shared no actual company during the voyage so far – were down at the mess hall, so she swiftly made her way into the bowels of the ship. She didn’t like the looks of them, especially of the rogue with his twitchy fingers and shifty eyes and bitter grins, but they shared the cause for being here. And hence, they shared the boat.

“Well, looks like we’re in for some rowing,” Lorelei said to the not-so-evil-looking one once she tracked them down, offering a semblance of a smile before they started to make her way back to the upper deck.

[Dissinger]

(For the purposes of this thread, Seth has two major changes. He has recovered all his gear, and he is not undead.)

On the table nearby was a brown bottle, the label carried the guarantee of remembering just what most sought to forget. It was a reminder that Alcohol focused the mind solely on the one thing that mattered most to you. The bottle proudly bore the mark of Lavinya, a brew guaranteed to be bitter to the last drop. Beside the bottle sat a glass that seemed half full. With a graceful deference the hand plucked the glass from the table, and carefully brought it to thin lips, which greedily sipped at the intoxicating brew. That was, until one of the sailors reported that he'd be left in a dingy to the fate of the seas, and forced to row for shore.

A cork was pressed tightly into the glass neck of the bottle, before the glass was picked up and the liquid quickly chugged, showing no sign of affecting the figure at all. Time had been kind to Seth Dahlios, but his friends seemed to suffer in his stead. At least, that is what fate would have him believe after talking with the bastard.

That in itself was a surreal experience.

The bottle was tucked in a satchel before he stretched, feeling muscles loosen, and bones pop in response to the stretching. Feeling much more limber he moved above deck and looked out in the air. He could see the island, and immediately the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in tribute to the magic that washed over him. He had long since studied the arcane arts, and knew that even in nature; there were instincts in relation to wizardry.

The fact he was a couple miles out and feeling it, meant it was stronger than anticipated.

Moving onto the dingy he dropped his satchel giving a greeting to his other traveling companion. They had shared the boat, and been polite to each other, despite any personal misgivings the two had. It was a token to how much they had endured that neither had drawn on the other upon finding themselves heading for the same location. Seth had known the man for awhile, at least since the Rangir War, and so had the other and perhaps it was for this reason the relationship worked.

Now, their third companion had approached. If Seth were a younger man, and perhaps not attached already to a woman of beauty, perhaps he would have chased her skirt. Hell there was a time he'd have chased any skirt, but that was the pursuit of younger men. Instead he merely looked up at the girl as she spoke the obvious to his companion. Locking one of the oars in place he laughed before he spoke;

"I get the feeling you don't like me..."

The words hung in the air underlined thick with humor, as if the words were a mockery of the distress they would have otherwise carried. A gauntlet clad hand reached up to pull the cowl of his cloak up over his dark brown hair even as the wistful smile left his lips. The winds whipped about making it far too often for his tastes that his wild brown hair would whip into his eyes, causing discomfort.

He took a moment to consider his companions on this suicidal trip.

This was everything the letter had indicated. Others had been wronged, the deeds would be avenged. A soft snort left his lips at the sanctimonious tone of his employers. Had they known the true reason Seth had accepted, they surely would be hunting down the thief as well. Well, former thief. Nowadays his occupation fit psychopathic murderer more than thief, or even mage.

A soft snort left his lips as he focused on the task at hand, "Come on Saint, let’s get this over with so we can be having dinner with the lug. With luck he might even tell us what the hell he's been up to..."

[Zantetsuken]

This story will be taking place further into Karel's future, just after he gained the title Saint of Swords. As such he will be using skills that do not fit his current profile. I assume nobody has problems with this...

The ship coasted silently in the sea, the waves making little fuss against the boat. The clouds passed overhead peacefully, sailors pointing to a few familiar shapes with amusement as others slept in makeshift hammocks letting the sun bathe them. It was overall a serene lazy day.

Deeper in the bowels of the wooden vessel was a lone figure sitting upon his seat before a desk. He looked at the crumbled letter over and ever, reading the laughable excuse for coherent words smeared across the page. His eyes looked out his window and he grew restless before he sighed tossing the paper back upon the oak table with a sigh leaving his lips. He walked towards the window and looked over the calm ocean with his soft hazel eyes.

A soft knock rapped the door, and the man turned walking towards the sound. His blue coat trailed behind his feet, his hands shifting the two Dehlar blades resting on his belt. He reached for the brass knob feeling the coldness of the metal and opened his door. "Can I help you?" He asked lightly, a sad smile among his face.

"Many pardons, Blessed Saint, but I ask you in all humbleness...to uh..." The Saint smiled softly patting the man on the shoulder before resting his hand upon him.

"I may have a title, my friend, but my powers are not for blessing others weapons. Strength and will come from within, and even the most magically attuned blade is useless in the hands of someone who has never forged a path for himself. Shortcuts, sadly, don't work." The man's cheeks turned rosy red, a small blade dropping to his side that he hid behind his back.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, holy one." The Saint laughed lightly as he patted the man again.

"It's no bother," he looked the man in the eye and saw his own reflection. He could see the half hearted smile, the weak look in his own eyes. He increased the size of his smile and spoke merrily. "Hey, how about you redeem yourself now?" The man looked up with shock, his eyes lighting up in passion.

"Really?" He asked as if the words the saint spoke was some form of trickery. The holy being before him nodded twice before he lowered his hands to cross them over his chest.

"If you can answer me one question I shall forget you disturbed me altogether. You may even have earned my deepest gratitude." he let the last part trail off in a half whisper, a curious sly smile growing. The sailor's eyes shot open in excitment, nodding stupidly over and over.

"Anything, anything you want, blessed one!" The Saint lifted up a single hand to calm the little man before him.

"Okay, here it is." He waited a moment for dramatic effect, the sailor nearly dying in anticipation. Just when the sailor was about to fall over from excitement the Holy one rubbed his hand across his belly. "When's lunch?" The sailors eyes blinked multiple times, his ears perking up as he held his mouth open in wonder.

"Uh...Excuse me?" The sailor asked, barely audible in the hallway of the ship. The Saint gave him a curious look and the Sailor cracked up laughing at the question he was asked. With a lighter heart he responded. "I apologize, holy one. Lunch is ready as of now. Thank you." He said walking away.

The Holy Saint shook his head in amusement as he closed the door behind him walking in the opposite direction to the eating hall. He turned down a corridor towards two large wooden doors set next to the stairs that led upwards to the main deck. He placed his hands on the knobs and walked in.

Before him was a group of sailors in a table, all looking towards the opposite side of room at the man who drank alone. The Saint laughed at their curiosity, knowing full well who this man was. At least, what he was. His past was a mystery to the Holy Saint, and he wasn't to caring to learn who he was anyway.

He sat at a table near the man, and a cook brought him a healthy meal of salad, some fruit, and a slab of meat. As he lifted his fork to eat his first bite the third and final piece to the puzzle made an entrance, her soft greeting and not so soft news about rowing made the stranger in the corner speak up, vile amusement escaping his lips. He listened as the two spoke before the man popped a cork in his ale, sighing and getting up. He spoke to the Saint, who in return looked to his food with heavy eyes of sadness.

"And I was so looking forward to this meal..." A sigh left his lips as he heaved himself up and began to walk next to the man. The trio made their way for the rowboat and Saint sighed before climbing down the ladder.

He watched the other two companions wearily with his eyes and did one last thought pattern on them. The twitchy man with the ale was a person he did not care to learn about, but did at least some homework on. He was a theif, and a deadly mage. But he could see the darkness in the man's soul. It was terrifyingly powerful and nearly eclipsed the Saint's light. Not that much was left after Sospita Island...

The Mage was somebody he had only really talked with once. That was all at the start of the trip, and she said one name that sparked something deep within his past. Letho Ravenheart echoed in his mind over and over.

Long ago, before the title of saint or holy one, the man in the blue coat was a simple wandering myrmidon. He had met Letho on a journey that helped shaped his entire being and who he was to this day, but that was nearly eight or so years ago. Now however, the name popped up and it never was spoken in joviality or jocularity, like the man he remembered from before, but instead it was spoken of only in hushed whispers or secret gatherings.

"Are we ready?" The Saint spoke clearly, his tone determined that he would not budge an inch if any doubts or regret was left lingering. The thief nodded once, grabbing an oar. The mage nodded as well grabbing one wooden oar for herself. The Saint looked to them both and gave off a wry smile. "Than drop your oars and hold on!"

Standing tall and erect upon the shifting boat he moved towards the end and unsheathed his twin blades and held them outwards, diagonally. "Holy Blades of Saint Bartholomew!" As he ended his words golden replicas of the blades surrounded the Saint in a circle, some dipping into the waters. Placing a foot on the edge of the boats and his hands on the sides the blades began to spin rapidly, and the boat sailed off at rapid speeds. He gave one look over his shoulder, the mage unreadable, the thief looking to be enjoying the ride.

"Nice trick, just what kind of Saint are you?" The man asked. The Saint gave him a genuine smile, the first he had seen all trip from anybody and spoke with pride.

"I am Karel Raven, The Saint of Swords!" Karel's eyes narrowed as he looked to the island with determination. Just what exactly did you do old friend? I'm still not sure what has passed in that letter but I vow to get to the bottom of this...

[Letho]

It wasn’t that Lorelei didn’t like Seth Dahlios. Well, it wasn’t just that she disliked him. It was more of a matter of being downright terrified by the notorious man. Every bit of information she had ever heard about the Lavinian spoke of malevolent, dark deeds, every whispered anecdote filled with blood and death and belligerence. She probably didn’t know the half of his story and already she felt as if he could slit her throat at any given time without as much as a hint of remorse. The sorceress did her best to conceal this fear, but she was too weak, too green. With mere thirteen years under her belt, she felt like a cub thrown in a cage with a pair of old wolves. It was only a question of which one would devour her first.

Once they parted with the crew of the ship and descended to the dory, Lorelei expected her fright to reach a new pinnacle. Away from the uncouth mariners and their stark captain, she was left at the mercy of two strangers who seemingly prosecuted Letho Ravenheart for all the wrong reasons. However, once the trio was alone and down in the water, the last mile or so didn’t turn out to be half as bad as she expected. Instead of sharpening his tools of destruction and preparing himself for the rendezvous, Seth spoke of their quarry almost in a jovial tone. “He sounds like he knows Letho,” the redhead thought, risking a look at the cowled man.

She was about to risk a query as well, but by the time she summoned the courage, Karel whipped out his magical blades. And in a matter of moments, they were scudding down the fiery glass of the wavy ocean, cutting through the reflection of the sunrise at a speed of a flying bird. The shallow boat rocked and jumped, and on several occasions Lorelei was certain that it would pitch down into the deep blue sea, drowning them all. And suddenly Seth didn’t seem that threatening anymore, at least not as the endless ocean below.

“Slow... slow down,” she managed to squeeze out, her hands dropping the staff and clinging to the edge of the boat instead. “I... I cannot swim.”

Karel did as she asked – albeit with a daredevil smile on his face – but by the time they reached the shore, Lorelei’s robes and her hair were drenched by the splashing waves and her face was as pale as a piece of paper. Needless to say, she was the first one off the dinghy, her heart thumping in her chest as if it desperately wanted out for some reason. Though she didn’t see their faces – didn’t dare to look at them – the teen mage knew she looked stupid and ridiculous, a mere child meddling in grown up’s work. And for the first time since her departure from Corone she felt that she wasn’t up to the task, that she was in way over her head.

“Chin up, kid. The first time’s always the hardest,” the raggedy rogue said, his words not overly helpful, his smirk even less so. What it did do, however, was force Lorelei to regain her serenity in a hurry. Despite the fear, she reminded herself that she wasn’t just another lass with stars in her eyes, tracking down the legendary swordsman Letho Ravenheart. No, she was made of sterner stuff. Much sterner stuff.

Straightening up, the mage dropped her quarterstaff and started taking off her robes. Soaked with sea water, they clung to her petite body like a second skin made of lead, and she had to shed its cumbersome scales. It took some effort to untangle from the damp clutches of the gray robes, but once she succeeded in doing so, the relief was instantaneous. Left in a pair of loose pants made of browned leather and a short-sleeved gray tunic, she folded the robes diligently and left them on the rowboat. From the looks of it, the island was tropical in origin, and the atmosphere felt mild, if humid. Throwing her leather satchel over her shoulder, the pale-skinned girl picked up her staff and prepared for the trek.

“We should move inland, towards the center of the island,” Lorelei spoke, her eloquent voice oddly loud. Though the beach was constantly being assailed by the sloshing waves and the wind moved through the vibrant crowns of the nearby trees, every word they spoke and every move they made seemed to overrule the sounds around them. It made them all feel even more alien, as if they were kids trespassing in someone’s orchard.

“It seems that the magic is strongest there,” she added, fishing for something in her satchel. Once she found it – a faded crimson bandana – she proceeded to tie it around her head, tucking the loose locks of her mahogany hair behind it. “If Letho is looking for the Time Mages, that’s where he’ll be.”

Hunting the Time Mages probably would’ve been a better term according to the reports, but Lorelei refused to believe it. If Letho was on this island, surely he was here to seek counsel from the wizards and nothing else. All this talk about him going on a killing spree, taking innocent lives, it just didn’t add up. And in her mind, he was innocent until proven otherwise.

[Dissinger]

Immediately Seth was reaching underneath his shirt and taking a small pendant from beneath it. It looked like a bit of crystal that was hanging from his neck by a leather thong. The trinket was one he had gotten after taking part in the Adventurer’s Crown, and one that had come in handy from time to time. A soft smirk lit up his face when the pendant began to tug and strain against his neck, trying desperately to reach the center of the island. A low whistle left his lips causing the other two to look at him with a curious glint in their eyes.

"Normally, this thing leans in the direction of the strongest form of magic in the area. Sometimes it leans towards me, other times it'll lean towards a palace with wards or similar things. But that's a lean, that's it coming off my chest maybe an inch at most. No, I don't think I want to go towards that place in the dark," Seth said firmly. It wasn't that he was afraid; having died and come back had erased the fear of a permanent death. No, it was more that he was being cautious. The old Seth Dahlios would have barged into the middle of the city without a second thought.

"So what do you recommend then Mr. Dahlios?" The young witch replied. A hint or irritation was in her voice and his smirk expanded into a roguish grin. As expected she wanted to do just as he might have had he been younger. No, he had to keep her alive. If anything he could pretend the girl was like his daughter, who he had been forced to let grow up without him. A sort of surrogate parent ship, though the girl might just blow up at him when she realized it.

"I suggest we set up camp near the beach. That way if something happens, we can jump in the dingy and be gone before the natives are any the wiser. Maybe a few feet into the jungle here, so we can see the sea. Be a nice romantic get away from life," Seth retorted the end words dripping with sarcasm. He didn't like being called mister, it made him feel old, and while his body was still young, he disliked the notion that his soul had aged in its place. To him he was still the young Thief Extraordinaire, a title he hadn't used in years. Though in truth, he wasn't much of a thief anymore. Still that was a musing he let drift away on a sea breeze before it could depress the rogue.

"Sounds like a plan," Karel replied. Seth nodded as they moved a few feet into the jungle before they set up camp, getting a small fire set up. Logs were dragged nearby for easy access, and larger logs were brought about to form benches and seats about the place. The girl sat across the fire from Seth, with Karel forming a bit of a protective barrier between her left and Seth's right. Things seemed tense, and Seth knew there was one good way to break the ice. Immediately Seth had managed to produce the brown bottle he had been sipping from on the ship.

The pop of air escaping could be heard as the cork was tossed in his pack before he spoke, "Lavinian Ale? I mean I could drink this alone, but then I'd feel like an alcoholic, and my wife hates it when I act like one."

[Zantetsuken]

Karel watched the ale cork pop and smiled at the notion, but he looked upon his twin blades at his side and sighed. "Sadly, I do not drink. Not since the day my sister and mother died in a fire. The culprits were some drunken idiots from one of the more noble families." Karel's eyes seemed to be sunken in as he spoke of his tragedy from long ago, the flames licking his face as he poked the pit with the tip of the Serra Karla Raven.

"Heh, your loss than, Saint." Seth responded shrugging. Karel looked over to his two companions and lifted his blade up, swinging it downwards in a mighty arc. The fire exploded sending sparks into the air that landed on the sand dancing wildly before they blew away.

Karel smirked to himself, a snort of amusement leaving his nose. "Just as I thought, you can cut the tension in this group. A long time ago, Letho and I were searching for a blade in the mountains. Well, lets just say one member in the group was a little unpleasant and the tension was thick just like it is now. So why don't we just tell some stories to pass the time." Karel smiled as Seth gave him one eye of curiosity before he drank some of his ale lounging on the log kicking his legs up.

"That sounds like desperation." Seth chuckled. "Just because we are all together doesn't mean we have to like each other." Karel just gave him a friendly nod.

"True," Karel lifted his blade up again resting it on his shoulder. "But I personally hate the silent treatment. So come on guys, how about it?" Karel looked to each companion in his group. Seth looked intently at Karel before he shrugged. The Mage nodded politely, her hands still upon her staff in readiness.

"What do you want to talk about first, Karel?" the girl asked. The Saint of Swords looked upwards into the sky and sat upon his log in contemplation.

"Well, how about the first time you realized you were in love?" Karel offered. Both nodded, though Seth's was more of a tilt of his head as he checked his bottle for the level of liquid still inside. Karel took in a deep breath, his chest lifting as he spoke softly.

"Way back when I was still with my sister, there was this girl named Tina. She had the most gorgeous eyes and a very petite body. She came from the Akashima area. She had with her this thin rapier, a blade uncommon in that part of the world. When first we were introduced was on opposite sides of a dueling pad. She moved with such beautiful grace and style that I had been unable to get her out of mind. She was all I thought about and being young I thought I loved this woman.

Well anyway, long story short, Tina agreed to one date with me so long as we both dueled the following day. If I could defeat her she would go on another date and kiss me at the end. Then another duel would ensue, and if I won that duel she would go on a third date, and well...the more I won the more she would do for me. I dueled her for days upon days getting to spend more time with her. I was smitten with her, than one day the stakes were all the way. The chance to have her for one night. The pressure was intense and well, I lost." Seth chuckled at this, as did the mage and Karel smiled rubbing the back of his head.

"I wonder why she would go to such lengths?" the girl rubbed the back of her head.

"She had heard about how great I was in my classes. So she figured if she went on dates she could learn more about me and how to be a better fighter. In the end, after I lost to her, she left me and told me to grow up. I was bitter for a while to say the least. We met a few years later and I asked if she still wanted to duel for the right to have her for a night. She agreed."

"Let me guess," Seth interrupted, a dribble of ale head at his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand looking intently at Karel. "You were about to win and the rush of blood went to the wrong head." The girl made a childish grimace at the notion as the sarcasm reached her mind.

"That's gross." She said crossly.

"As a matter of fact Seth, I won." Karel said moving them along. "I defeated her in a duel and she looked up at me with these deep, uncaring eyes. She was already speaking of where she lived and when to meet but I dropped my sword in my sheath and walked away."

"Why, you into men?" Seth shifted in his seat taking another sip. Karel chuckled with him shaking his head.

"No I'm not into men." Karel looked into the fire as he spoke, his eyes moving with the flames. "I told her she needed to grow up. Making yourself strong was one thing. But giving up a piece of who you are isn't improving your resolve. Losing to her meant the weakness that caused her to lose needed to be sacrificed. So every time she lost a battle she felt the need to offer herself to the winner. The more she lost, the more she gave of herself until she won."

"That's," The teenage mage looked to the fire as well. "That's just insane. Why would she do that?"

"Sometimes," Karel said softly looking up to the sky. "Sometimes people will sacrifice who they are for something, or someone..." The moon crept from behind the clouds and shined light on the small ragtag group.

[Letho]

Though Lorelei did her best to prepare herself for just about any scenario with these two, she certainly didn’t expect for the plot to thicken in this manner. Ever since she had heard the names of these two, her mind had been stuck on prejudices that their fame had spread. And yet after mere hours spent in their close proximity, she couldn’t help but question these conclusions she had jumped to. Seth Dahlios, this boogeyman that good mothers scared their misbehaving children with, couldn’t have been that evil if he had a wife waiting for him. And Karel Raven, who was supposed to be this stuck-up, sanctimonious bastard boasting with his title, was instead turning out to be a rather decent, pragmatic man who didn’t look down at those around him.

But most importantly, despite being dispatched by organizations that wanted Letho dead or alive, neither seemed to be really ardent about getting the swordsman’s head. Instead, they both acted more like acquaintances of the man, here to do an intervention as they would if he were an alcoholic. That was an encouraging realization for Lorelei. She had set off to the island fearing that once they found Letho and they realized her true intentions, she would have to fight both the Saint and the Demon. Now, as she sat next to the fire and the night brought on their true faces, she started to feel as if they were here for the same reason. Still, the redhead wasn’t quite ready to cast away her prejudices just yet. Masks were something that people wore all the time, and she had to make sure that neither Karel nor Seth wore one before she could start to trust them.

By the time the Saint of Swords finished his yarn, the full thickness of the night’s darkness was upon them, together with more stars than Lorelei had ever seen in the sky. Whether it was just the clear weather or the stars’ glow was somehow amplified by the magical nature of the island, the dome above was a satin blanket laden with silver sawdust, each grain sparkling twice as bright as it usually should. Despite the moon still hiding its wan face, there was almost enough light to navigate the jungle around them.

Rummaging through her satchel, Lorelei was in the middle of the search for something edible when Karel’s words interrupted her. “Alright, it’s your turn.”

“I... I do not want to play,” she said, her eyes fleeting from Karel to Seth and then back to the contents of her purse. Finding the wrapping with several slices of flatbread, she took one piece out and started to nibble on it, dropping her eyes to the fire.

“Touchy subject?” Seth asked, not particularly interested. Even though on the opposite side of the fire, she could smell the bitterness of the ale he was downing. “Or you never had someone stir your blood and flush your face, kid?”

“No,” she fired, then abruptly changed her mind. “I mean, yes, but... I do not think it any of your concern, Mr Dahlios. Or yours, for that matter,” her words and gaze turned to Karel, then dropped back to the dancing flames. Her heart was racing again; it took some courage to speak thusly in the presence of those both older and stronger than her.

But even though she refused to share her story, her mind was intrigued by the topic. It traveled back in time, in the way mind usually did when one had naught to do but stare into the fire and pass the time, and took her two years in the past. She was eleven, and just like through the course of her entire life, she was living in a monastery of the Gray Order. The monks of the Order weren’t the typical, religious type; they seemed to refuse to believe in the Thayne’s or any other gods for that matter. They believed in order and discipline, put their faith into the balance of all things, glorified the unity of human mind and the body. It was a lousy environment for a girl to grow up, her days filled with training and meditation, but it was the only life she knew.

But two years ago – it was a rainy autumn day, she remembered, and the skies opened the floodgates abundantly – a traveling merchant knocked at the gates of their monastery. The man said he got lost in Concordia, he said that his wagon was stuck in the mud, that one of his horses broke its leg. He said a lot of things. Lorelei didn’t hear much of it, though. Her eyes were stuck on the man’s son, a ragtag teen several years older and almost a foot taller than her. Constantly being surrounded by old men who preached of work and discipline and little else, it wasn’t a surprise that this novelty piqued her interest. It took several days for the skies to clear up, and during that time she got to know the boy. He said his name was Garland and on the third day, after hours upon hours spent talking to Lorelei, he gave her the first and last kiss she ever got. On the fourth day, he and his father were gone and she never saw him again. But that feeling that his presence stirred up inside her, that dizziness that overtook her when he was near her, Lorelei believed that it was love.

The monks didn’t reprimand her for this, oddly enough. Instead they gave her the brief lowdown on the birds and the bees before instructing her continue to her chores. Odd bunch they were, and despite finally being outside the walls of the monastery and able to witness the marvels of the world, she missed them almost constantly. It was, after all, her home, as flawed as it was, and they were her surrogate parents, as flawed as they were.

“You still with us, Lorelei?” Karel asked, snapping her out of her recollection. There was a smile on his face again – it started to seem to the sorceress that there was always smirk on the man’s face at the very least. “I sense a story behind that silence.”

She smiled politely, modestly, conceding to being read like an open book. But even as she prepared to offer some kind of a reply, she felt a tug in her mind, as if something latched on a hook to it and yanked it to the wilderness surrounding them. And as if that wasn’t warning enough, the pendant that Seth presented earlier sprang to life as well, pulsating more rapidly. Something was on approach, and it seemed to be bursting with energy. Lorelei jumped to her feet, obviously startled, her eyes scanning the inky darkness in vain.

“No time for talking. Something... Something is out there,” she said in a whisper, the reminiscing vacated from her mind in an instant. She couldn’t see a damn thing, none of them could, their eyes not attuned to the night after staring into the flames for so long. It came as no surprise then that, when the hellhounds approached and one of them leapt towards her, all she managed to put up against it was a scream. The beast – its jaws wide open, its eyes crimson red, its body almost incorporeal – knocked her down as easy as if she was made of straw, pinning her to the ground with a terrifying growl.

[Dissinger]

He had remained serene even as he pickled his liver in alcohol. The bitter brew seemed to carry him away to the past, to his own sordid love life. Much like the girl he too couldn't help but reminisce about what he had once had, and had even today. Still he corked the bottle and set it in his pack as he shook his head, clearing the intoxicating fog. He knew he had too much to drink, and he was sure if his wife could see him she’d be yelling at him for it now.

"Probably should lay off for a bit, it’s starting to hit me, and that's not a good thing..." Seth muttered to no one in particular. He was in the middle of a stretch when the girl made her announcement. The pendant began to pulse lifting and lowering as the creature pounced into her pinning her to the ground.

The vilest string of curses left the Demon's mouth. He quickly had shifted from the kind and caring Lavinian to his more violent half. His finger looped through a lung popper before with practiced ease the knife flew through the air and went right through the beast, which flickered out of phase only to growl and look at him less than a second later. The trick might have fazed Seth when he was younger, or perhaps required him to throw another. Nowadays, he was beyond being surprised when his attacks resulted in nothing working.

Had he been sober perhaps he could identify these beasts, but the liquor had a habit of clouding the mind. The Lavinian acted the only way he knew how and jumped, pouncing towards the beast, when the beast had shifted out; his hand went immediately around the young woman's waist with a dexterity that belied his drunken stupor. Holding her close to him he heard her cry of alarm as they went for a tumble through the low vines and brush of the jungle.

"Stay down," Was Seth's order as they came to a halt, him atop her in a position that would have surely made the girl blush had the situation not been so dire. The beast had turned towards him and the red eyes had begun to glow with an inner fire, one of a predator that had witnessed another in its territory. Seth's own eyes took on an intimidating glare as he drew both knives before he held up two fingers and stepped between the girl and the beast.

The animal let out a growl as another joined it, the two seeming to pace about each other as they began to move towards the thief, they would snap at the thief, and when he didn't react they got bolder surrounding him. Finally he acted his lips working in fast succession, "Time's up!"

Black energy gave a dim light to the area as he worked his won time magicks trying to buy time for the girl to find a hiding place. The magic arced from blade to blade before he unleashed it and hit the hound squarely. A grin lit up his face, until it looked at him and barked. It shouldn't have been barking at the thief, hell it shouldn't have been moving for that matter. If anything he should be feeling nauseous. Instead the beast pounced and bowled him over. The canine went for a bite at the thief's throat, only to be fed metal gauntlets that served a poor treat for the beast. The lower fangs punctured the leather with ease while the answer to the riddle drifted to his mind, the heat of battle finally showing some clarity in the haze.

It was a creature that he had read about once, long ago when he had been a depraved man, a man worthy of the name Lavinian Demon. When he would kill casually and searched for information. The books he had read, the occult things he knew were stored in his mind began to race through the traits these things possessed. Yes and no questions were answered until his mind finally stopped spinning. The answer was pushed forth to the forefront of his brain where he finally grasped what he was fighting.

Hellhounds...

"Karel, we can't beat these things! Grab the girl and head for the dingy, if I'm not there in a few minutes run!" Seth could feel the drool of his attacker slobber onto his arms, and drip onto his chest as the beast bit again, tearing at his arm guards. He still refused to give in as he shoved at the beast and narrowed his eyes, "Take a lot more than that to kill a demon!"

Then he heard the other growl, coming from his right, and he knew he would not make it back to Liliana alive. Gritting his teeth he ventured a glance at the other dog, seeing it ready to pounce before he snarled out, "Come and get me you son of a bitch. I'll drag you to hell with me..."

[Zantetsuken]

Karel's demeanor remained calm despite the sudden action of his other two counterparts and he lifted himself from his log arching his back in a stretch. His cool calm gave the Hellhounds a moment of pause, long enough for him to draw up the Serra Karla Raven and Karla Garnet Raven from their sheaths and slash outwards. His blade cleanly went through each shadowy body causing the demon to leave this plain.

With an artful grace he bent low and charged forward, slashing at each beast causing them to vanish. With a final half twist he killed the last one, his mouth creaking into a sly grin as he looked to see Seth getting up looking around.

"I don't-" Was all Karel managed to say before a claw swiped at him from behind. His body moved forwards at the slightest graze and he turned to see the demonic wolves return to this realm. The Sword Saint dove forward with his sword, chanting as he did so causing the blade to glow with a darkened blue light. As he cut into the chest of the beast he howled with triumph. Turning he saw the beast get up, the shadows knitting the hole he made with ease.

"Saint!" The girl cried out near their encampment, her staff licking out and hitting a few of the hounds. Karel made a few swift motions to reach her and the two stood back to back as Karel kept his breaths steady and even. Seth was off to the right in his own little world, howling with pain and pleasure as he attacked as viciously as the Hellhounds.

"You have a plan, little one?" Karel asked causally. The girl let out a huff of amusement as she batted another shadowy wolf away.

"You're the holy Saint of Swords, this is your realm isn't it?" Her sass was heavier than molassess and Karel figured she did have a point. "Oh and while I'm able to think clearly, don't bother with magic." Her staff slammed onto the head of the beast causing it to creep back into the shadows, only to reform yards away from the two warriors.

"I noticed," Karel replied solemnly, his own disappointment clear in his tone. He looked over to their right flank and saw that Seth was doing a decent job of keeping the Hellhounds from over taking them. Looking to his left he saw they were far more open to attack, but the demons never charged from that angle. Karel's mind searched out for the reason as to why the dogs wouldn't take advantage.

"Karel," Seth shouted. "Stop day dreaming!" Karel looked ahead to see four of the hounds pounce forward at once. Karel dropped his blades down low and lifted upwards spinning on one heel twirling like a tornado as he did so. Three of the dogs were snuffed out like a candle but the third hit Karel square on the chest knocking him down to the earth below.

"Mother of mercy!" Karel seethed as his hand released the Serra Karla Raven gliding up to press on the back of the Karla Garnet Raven as the blade became the only medium that separated the fangs of the Hellish creature and Karel's face. He planted his feet on the belly of the beast and shot forward with them, trying to lift the beast up and over, but his attack didn't get his desired result. The wolf backed away only a few mere inches, but it was an opening that the Sword Saint had no choice but to accept. He grabbed a small log next to him and slammed it into the cranium of the shadow monster.

Flames erupted onto the beast and it howled in the universal cry of pain as it yelped and backed away into the shadows. Karel looked over to see the log he grabbed was from the fire pit, and he soon realized why his left flank was protected. "Seth! Loreli! The key is fire!" Karel cried out to his companions lifting his discarded sword from the sand. They both gave off a shout of acknowledgment and Karel ran to Seth, his blade cleaving them off the rouge.

"Thanks," He spat out in controlled rage, his eyes not the same he had before. Karel nodded but spoke quickly.

"You may not want to thank me. I have a favor. I need your ale." Karel kept his eyes out for the demon dogs as he spoke. Seth gave him a dirty look as he lifted a single dagger out of his holder.

"Kind of a stupid time to decide that you want the ale isn't it?" Karel returned the dirty look and Seth caved in. "Okay, you're the saint. It's in my bag. I'll cover you." Karel and Seth ran back to the fire and immeadietly Karel dropped to the bag in the sand. He reached into the satchel and grabbed the ale looking at the amount left. Smiling he uncorked the top and poured the liquid onto his blades.

"Hey, hey, HEY!" Seth cried out in alarm. "That isn't the way you drink Karel!" Karel ignored the rouge's whimpering as he continued on. Karel noticed a shadow hound preparing to pounce upon the woman and Karel tilted the pouring liquid into his mouth taking a cheekful in and then spitting it out over the flames. Naturally, as he expected it would, the flames erupted in the direction the ale flew and the Hellhound retreated for a moment. Taking his chance Karel dipped both blades into the fire, using the few moments to toss Seth his ale. Deftly the rouge caught it, catching onto the idea as he drank the liquid and spat it back upon the blades.

"Such a waste..." The Lavinian Demon whispered in sadness. Karel lifted both blades upwards into the air, his mind racing at the heat his hands felt but ignoring the pain as he ran forward. He swung his blades around his body in a whirlwind of destruction, an artful show of fire and grace as Karel's body moved like a dancer with a fiery baton. The Hellhounds made a swift retreat back into the forest, but it wasn't over. Karel's swords were held out before him and he looked back to Seth, who's daggers were still aflame, but in a mere matter of moments Karel knew exactly what Seth was thinking.

We can't keep this up for much longer. Karel nodded to Seth, hoping that the rouge understood what he meant by the gesture. Slowly Karel began to pull backwards as did Seth who grabbed Loreli as they walked towards the dinghy. Just as they were about to flee the Hellhounds attacked again, and in far greater number as they leapt forward. Karel's blades were shoved down into the throats of two of the beasts, but the others no longer cared as they slammed into the Sword Saint knocking him to the earth. The blades fell to the earth, and sand was kicked onto the blades dousing out the flames. As they ran after Seth one or two stopped to put out the fire in the camp and Karel cursed loudly as felt his face getting bitten at.

"Dammit, if anyone has a favor that god owes them, now is a good time to ask!"

[Letho]

Standing alone in the darkness, with one feeble hand clutching to her useless staff while the other fended off the beasts with a quenching fires of a log, Lorelei felt that her end has come.

She didn’t expect this excursion to end this way, didn’t even consider the possibility of losing her life on this quest for Letho Ravenheart. It had all seemed like a fable in the making when she started her path, the good kind with villains failing and heroes emerging triumphant, but it was clear to her now that there would be no happy ending here. Her companions, the mighty Saint of Swords and the ill-famed Demon of Lavinia, were unable to stop these infernal hounds. What chance did she have, a silly little girl with paltry wizardry skills and a dream of reunification?

She swung the log again in a wide defensive arc, and the movement nearly snuffed out the flames at the far end of the smoldering stick. The immaterial monsters that surrounded her responded with a growl, but refused to be intimidated further. They too seemed to realize that there was but a tongue of flame separating Lorelei from her inevitable fate. Her eyes sought out her companions, silently asking for some assistance, but the two were preoccupied with fighting for their own existence. It seemed that they would all meet their end here, on a non-descript beach at the far side of the world. Dropping the now useless log whose flames seemed to run their course, she brought her staff up in a defensive position with her left. More as a reflex than a last ditch effort, the terrified mage conjured a fireball in the palm of her left, the magical sphere pulsating in rhythm with her pounding heart. She was as ready as she was going to be to go down in flames.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The voice, dry and silent, was like a dagger in the night, stabbing at her perception from behind. The startle it gave the girl nearly cut her off at the knees, her attention shaken in such a manner that the crackling fireball in her hand disappeared in an instant. Still, even with the disappearance of the magical illumination, she was able to notice the contour of a man that stepped from behind her and in between her and the growling beasts. A tall man he was, but bellow his pitch black clothes seemed to be a scrawny musculature, further diminished by his hunched posture. He walked like a man with a pack filled with bricks, leaning onto his staff heavily. The red eyes of every hellhound in the area immediately turned towards him, almost as if they were drawn.

“These things, they feed on magic,” he explained, his raspy voice barely more than a whisper. Standing in the middle of a clearing, the robed figure was serene, as if it didn’t notice the multitude of growling jaws and burning eyes around him. And even as they came charging at him, he didn’t seem to move. Instead, his body seemingly phased out of existence, reappearing moments after the hounds finished their run and biting naught but air. Lifting his left hand up, the mysterious stranger created a transparent, faint sphere. “Away with you!” he bellowed, and even as he did so, the ball in his hand grew exponentially in all directions, exploding outwards without as much as a sound. And even as its outer edges touched the hellish creatures, they turned to black vapor with a whining wail.

And then all was silent.

“Who... Who are you?” Lorelei blundered, her heartbeat still so fast and her knees still so weak that she felt like she would melt into a puddle. But once her mind processed everything that had happened and returned to a somewhat rational state, her eloquence returned as well. “You are one of the Time Mages.”

“You can call me Amaranth,” the aged man responded. Though she couldn’t see past the shadow of his hood – couldn’t see past the line of first trees for that matter – Lorelei could feel his eyes upon her. They seemed to be studying her for several seconds before they turned to the other two. Both Karel and Seth were back on their feet by then, dusting off and checking their equipment, none too happy about the course of the battle but content with its conclusion.

“And now you three are going to tell me exactly what you’re doing here,” Amaranth said once all were gathered around the extinguished fire, taking a seat on with a wheeze and a cough. Sitting cross-legged, with a staff across his lap, the cowled stranger was little more than a vague outline in the darkness of the night. And even when Lorelei restarted the fire with a snap of her fingers, the light seemed somehow dimmer around the man, barely able to penetrate the shadow of his hood. He waited patiently, unmoving, his audible breathing the only sign he’s still alive.

[Dissinger]

One second he and Karel were back to back, with him sending a rather scathing remark about what he had told the saint to do, and the next they were safe. His eyes narrowed as he saw the magic in the air and whipped his head to the ancient man, even now talking with the young mage. She seemed shaken up, yet Seth knew that they weren't out of danger yet.

Besides the fact that his pendant was jerking strongly towards the man, there was the fact the man was an unknown. His eyes widened only slightly when he could almost feel the power radiating from him. It was strange, the raw energy this man produced. It felt like the euphoria of taking a new spell, of reaching into the infinite depths of possibility and plucking the one bit of magic that would save his hide. It was intoxicating, and even Seth couldn't remember how he came to be sitting around the fire; such was the effect the man was having on him.

He wanted to tear the man apart, to find the source of this intoxicating power and devour it, consume it and increase his own tenfold. He wanted to destroy this man in a bid for more power than he could fathom. Yet he knew with a casual glance, he would get one step, perhaps two, before he would be destroyed for his arrogance. The Hex Magi remained quiet before the man spoke forth his eyes scanning over the battered batch of adventurers. Seth eyed his arms that had taken the brunt of hell hound chewing.

As expected his arms were bloody on the underside, the leather having been punctured through like cotton. He'd need to get them fixed, and more importantly, pull the bits of leather out of his skin. It wasn't something he relished doing, but he had come to try and move on from battle without magic, only relying on it in near lethal situations. It was part of Seth's desire to break his addiction to quick power.

His eyes finally rose after a disgusted sigh to the man before he spoke, "You're the time mage, so I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'm going to say you already know what we're after, and further you know all the half truths and lies we're going to spout out."

"An unfair assessment, I deal with Time, not Divination," The man replied curtly.

Seth smirked before he spoke, "Who's to say you didn't have this very fight happen time and again, till you got it right? Still, assuming you're telling the truth and that's not the truth, I suppose I can speak for all of us in saying we're looking for Letho Ravenheart. Have you seen him? He's late for dinner..."

Amaranth seemed to whip the belligerent Lavinian with a glare before he spoke curtly, "I should hope that is merely your sense of humor and not you insulting me Revanian. Lest you wish to further my ire at you disrupting our home, I do so hate to be insulted."

"Lavinian," Seth replied firmly.

"Ah yes, that's right, Reven is merely a bloated corpse with a nest of-"

"As you warned me against insults, I warn you now old man. Even if you destroy me, you'll pay if you finish that sentence," Seth replied tersely.

The man let a soft chuckle escape his lips. The sound was strange given the somber mood before he spoke, "If I told you Letho was here, you would press on. Why do you desire him? Is it vengeance..." with those words he glanced upon Karel his eyes studying the man up and down slowly. "...or perhaps misguided love?" At this his eyes looked upon the girl, even she seemed to shrink from his gaze. "Or is it to repay a debt?" The man looked at Seth before the Lavinian smirked the grin taking the place of the fire that had lit up his eyes during the heat of battle.

"And here you said you aren't good at Divination," Seth retorted. "Still, our business with him is just that, our business. I wouldn't expect someone who just met us to understand the reasons. We need to see the man, and I'm more than certain that killing him isn't on any of our agendas. Besides I couldn't imagine killing the man, he's like ragweed in the fields, better to let him be than spread the damn seeds everywhere and cause a mess."

Seth felt the man's eyes upon him for the longest time before he looked upon Karel and Lorelei. He then spoke his voice still holding that tone of authority, "What of you two, are your desires the same as his? Do you walk into the Lion's den with no thought or care, only to see a man the world thinks gone?" Seth opened his mouth to speak before the man held up a hand, "You have talked enough for them, now it is time for their story to be told. You should know this better than anyone Seth Dahlios, Lavinian Demon."

[Zantetsuken]

Karel's eyes looked upon the time mage with careful consideration, his thoughts private on the matter. His fingers nudged the paper in his pocket as he casually rubbed the edges. The words were brought to the fore of his mind and he couldn't get past the inclination that this man, Amaranth, was the one who wrote him this letter.

Karel studied the face of his savior, seeing a trace line of a gray beard and the line and crease of a nose, but as for eyes and other useful identifying traits Amaranth was deft at hiding. Karel pondered until he heard himself being addressed. He studied the teenager to see if she would talk first, but her mind was in a daze at the sudden appearance of the man. Clearing his throat Karel poked the fire with a piece of timber before letting it go, looking into the hood of the man before him.

"Why I was sent here, what I am doing here? Two sides of the same double edged sword. I am here because I was called upon, and I am here because I felt needed. We all have a stake in this, but for the betterment of everyone it was wise we did not disclose that information." Karel took out the letter he received and handed it over to the mage. Amaranth grabbed it gingerly, looking at it carefully before handing it back.

"So then you came for clarity I take it?" Karel nodded placing the paper back into his pocket.

"My station was only recently obtained, and yet you called me by name. My master, Kai Atari, told me to be mindful of things around me and not disregard those who have need of my aid. So I decided to come. Interesting enough the closer I get to my mission, the more interesting it turns out to be." Karel's eyes narrowed looking deep under the hood of Amaranth. He studied the eyes carefully trying to decide what to do, but the man made no hostile move or any indication of tipping his hand.

"It is true," Amaranth admitted holding one hand up in defeat. "The order did summon you, Saint of Swords, to this island to aid us against something that has been on a rampage. And I do appreciate you making all haste to arrive, but for now there are things that fall under a need to know basis. Sadly, this is one of those things." Karel huffed in mock anger, his mouth turning to a simple smile.

"Well, that does it for me then. Until you cough up more, I'm content to just sit and wait." Amaranth nodded solemnly looking at the Saint of Swords. "I made a promise to help you guys and I stand by my promise."

"Well met," he replied sagely turning to the young sorceress. "And what of you, little one?"

[Letho]

When it came her turn to speak, Lorelei remained silent for several moments, pondering on what to say. A part of her – a prudent, calculating part – wanted to play it safe and reveal as little as possible both to Amaranth and her two companions. Despite their actions and their words, they were strangers, hiding their own agendas and reasons for being here. They wouldn’t understand why she was there, couldn’t. Or could they? Another part of the young mage wanted so badly to believe them, wanted to believe anybody just so she wasn’t alone in this belief in Letho the way he used to be and not the way people said he was now. Karel and Seth seemed to fit the bill, both stating that they were not on Tempus Island to kill the legendary swordsman, but could she trust them?

“I... I am here to clear his name. Letho’s name,” she explained, her voice uncertain. She studied the faces of those around here, fearing the worse, fearing they would mock her for being green and ridiculous and harebrained, but she found nothing but gloomy expressions. This didn’t particularly encourage the girl, but didn’t dissuade her either, so she added: “I know Letho could never do all those things they accuse him of. And I can prove it.”

This seemed to catch Amaranths interest. “Oh, is that so? And what irrefutable evidence you have to do that?” he asked, a challenging undertone in his voice. If Karel or Seth spoke such a thing, she probably would’ve shied away from elaborating; they were both so intimidating that you had to respect them. But Amaranth was different. For some reason, she felt the need to respond to his instigations.

She reached for her satchel and produced and rolled up parchment. It was a worn, fading thing, this piece of paper, the words barely visible in the dancing light of the fire, but it didn’t matter. She knew the words by heart by now. “I have a letter here, written by Letho himself. It will make you realize just what kind of a man he really is.”


My Daughter

If you are reading this, then I must apologize, for it means that neither I nor your mother is able to tell you in person what you need to know. These words must serve as a bland replacement, I’m afraid, and hopefully they will give you some idea of what kind of folk your parents had been.

My origins rest far to the west, in the land of Savion, but that is a tale I shall not endeavor to tell now, for it bears no significance. Suffice to say, you have noble roots, my dear daughter, origins which I had abandoned a long time ago. I disembarked upon the shores of Scara Brae, a wreck of a man with bloody history and no future, finding work as a hired sword. During one of those missions I met your mother. She was a slave to a violent master, sold into such a life at an early age by none other than her own father. I am unashamed to admit that I was stricken by her charm from the moment I met her, from the moment I met Myrhianna Bastillien. She was a woman of great beauty, both within and without, beauty that I am certain you inherited as well. And her heart... Ah, she had a heart as big as a world. Never had I met such a truly benevolent person!

I freed her from her shackles and from that moment on we could not be separated. We traveled across most of the known lands of Althanas, journeyed from Berevar in the north to Fallien in the south until we finally settled in the land of Corone. We had our ups and downs, hit a few bumps on the too short road we shared, and even when war engulfed our home, we stayed true to each other. It was during the Corone Civil War that you were conceived. I still remember the day Myrhia told me the news. Gods, I never experienced such mixture of emotions in my life. I was joyous, without a doubt, but also afraid how the uncertainty of the world around us would affect you. Unfortunately, it did so in the worse way possible.

There is no good way to say this, and I am lousy with words, so I will just write it down and be done with it. Your mother is dead, dead but not lost. She died giving birth to you, my daughter. I am not saying this to make you feel guilty. I am saying this so you can understand why I could not be at your side all these years. Ever since that terrible day the gods tore Myrhia away from me I am on a quest to bring her back. I will not rest, will not give up, will not stop until I find a way to bring her back to life. Because all those years ago, while I was floating like a piece of jetsam through the streets of Scara Brae, she bestowed upon me a second life. And I cannot rest until I find a way to do the same for her. For this I will not apologize, because this drive is stronger than my will to deny it.

As for my absence from your life, there is no apology known to man that could right that wrong. I only hope... No, I know you will live on to have a happy life, a life that I alone could never offer you. If you have but a fraction of me inside of you, you will be as resilient as an oak and you will endure, and if you have but a fraction of your mother inside of you, you will amicable enough to befriend good folk that would make you forget about the darkness of your past. It should be enough for you to live your own life and never look back.

In conclusion, if you are still reading these words, I thank you for doing so, thus allowing me to explain my reasons. Unfortunately, it also means I had failed my mission, because I instructed the monks to deliver this letter only in the case of my demise. Despite that, I send you all my love, from wherever I am.




Sincerely yours

Letho Ravenheart
After a moment of silence, a moment when nothing could be heard and even the crackling flames seemed slow and lazy, Lorelei rolled up the parchment with diligence, storing it back in her satchel. “So, you see,” she said, her tone a bit lighter when compared to what it had been while she’d been reading Letho’s grim letter. “The man who wrote that letter could never do all those horrible things.”

Amaranth moved, or rather his head did, and though nobody could see his expression, there was a sinister grin on his bearded face. “That man who wrote that letter... I do not think he is around anymore, lass. But what do I know, right? I am just an old man,” the dark wizard said, his speech interrupted by a series of coughs. Once he got them under control, he continued. “And how did you get a hold of that letter?”

“That is simple,” Lorelei said, confidence painted across her face. “I am Letho's daughter.”

[Dissinger]

The second he heard the girl's admission his head snapped right to facing the young mage. Her gaze remained on the old man, yet Seth's Grey eyes pierced deeply into her skin, almost tearing her apart as he scrutinized her. Slowly he put the pieces together, slowly realizing what he had missed. Of course he felt a strong urge to protect the girl, had he actually been thinking, and not drinking to relax, he would have realized that she reminded him so much of Myhria he could have sworn she had a twin. Yet there too was the stern stare, the serious eyes of Letho Ravenheart. They were eyes that warned that no action would go unnoticed.

Eyes that Seth wish he could have seen once more.

As he slowly lowered his gaze once more to the fire he let out a soft sigh before he spoke up, "That's one of two..."

The girl looked at him almost incredulously before she spoke, "Mr. Dahlios-"

"Kid, you can call me Seth. You've got every right to, because if it wasn't for your Dad, I wouldn't even be here. As far as my debt goes, I'm still a long ways from reaching even with that bastard," He replied looking at her. He then fished into his pack and sighed, producing a letter.

"What is that?" She said softly, a bit of shyness in her voice.

"A letter from a disturbing source..." He replied looking at the mage. He hated airing his friend’s dirty laundry out in public, but he knew he had to eventually. Better here where he could contain the story than elsewhere.

"Before you let her read it, we must be going. It shall soon be dawn," Amaranth said rising up. Seth frowned at the man, before the mage answered the unasked question, "The dawn comes shortly, and surely you can palaver on the road back to the city as well as here."

He nodded, not questioning the answer. If the time mages could control time, they could merely freeze themselves in time when it came to sleeping, and then restart. If that was the case, their only enemy was the night itself. They probably had fast forwarded time around the island so that it would be day almost instantaneously. Moving to follow after the man he handed the letter to Lorelei Ravenheart.

The jungle moved the scratch at them as traveled across the unseen path that Amaranth had them walking on. The sounds of insects chirping and moving about in the underbrush surrounded them, hiding the soft steps of the night’s predators. It put Seth ill at ease when they were so noisy. It meant that they would have to take extra precautions against ambush.

The young girl however held a small flame in her hand as she looked over the letter, her small mouth slowly forming the words that she read, even as no sound passed her lips. She was deep in concentration at the words that flowed forth.


To the Lavinian Demon,

We have heard of your reputation, and further of your opposition to a common enemy. It is our hope that in sending this letter to you, you will heed our call to arms and seek justice on our behalf. Should this letter fail to reach you, know there will be others of lesser skill in pursuit of him. Our hope truly rests on you bringing this vile man down, and restore a bit of peace to our Order.

It has been many years since Antioch had fallen to the Order of Flesh. Imagine our surprise when Letho Ravenheart, the Coronian Ranger General himself, stepped into our doors to learn our ways. He stood within our hallowed halls, made the necessary sacrifices, and through our magicks sought to reverse Death's hold on a loved one. As you may well know, Necromancy has no rule over the living, only the dead.

He stole knowledge and siphoned power from our impressive library while he studied under us. It was by some miracle the day he decided to betray us, was when our master Morian Fleshbane was not present. Tearing through the tower he destroyed his former allies without thought or reason. He has sullied the Order to its core, and he has destroyed all he stood for.

I see no greater justice, than a man known for betrayal destroy a man who was known for his Loyalty. I know your hatred towards him will surely manifest great strength. Even with our augmented spells still active within him, you can strip him of all he has gained. We entreat you Lavinian Demon, to begin a fresh hunt against the only man capable of giving you a challenge. Destroy Letho Ravenheart, and in doing so restore our wounded pride. Surely a Lavinian such as yourself can understand matters of pride?


Sincerely yours,
Aleric Lim-dul

"So you are here to kill him! I knew you weren't-" Lorelei was already moving forward to attack Seth before he gave her a glare that chilled her to her core. His eyes had taken on an almost lifeless quality; just shy of stepping over the boundaries she had seen them not five minutes ago. While Seth was not known for his violence towards women, the girl didn't know that. He was making full use of his violent reputation to keep her subdued.

"Whatever anger I had at your father, died with me in Revan. I trusted him with the lives of my wife and child, and he came through. That is the debt I carry, and that is why I'm here. I had no clue why he was fooling around with Fleshbane's order, and frankly I don't care enough to chastise him over it. He did the right thing when he killed those men," Seth responded slowly, "So you tell me kid, which is more likely. That I'm here to end a grudge with him, or I'm here to warn him he pissed of a lot of bad people?"

"This letter-"

"That letter was written by people who had no clue I owed Letho so much. Now that I know Myrhia is gone, I doubt I could stop at the warning. They both were put at risk because of actions I took. They both saved my wife and kid, and until I see your mom back on this side, I refuse to rest," He replied pointing a gauntlet clad, bloody finger at her, "If anyone fully understood what was going on between Letho and Myhria its me, and that's only because I had a similar relationship with my wife."

[Zantetsuken]

Karel watched the scene unfold like a pop up book, the mage leading them away from the beach shore. She had no qualms revealing who she was, and Karel nearly spit the water in his mouth out when the news hit him. Letho's daughter? Karel thought to himself. My old, dear friend, what has happened between us?

Karel looked at the descendant of Letho, her tiny frame and weak appearance so starkly contrasted when compared with the heroic girth of his best friend. It was so surreal to be with her walking side by side like he imagined they would back on his own home of Black Isle. He was flushed with questions to ask, but instead bit his tongue back from making such silly comments. It was painfully obvious that she was under a lot of duress from the events going on, and her eager girl like antics made more sense now. She had no clue who her father really was.

It was so very long ago when Karel has asked Letho to join him in taking down a corporate giant in Scara Brae, a baker who illegally held a monopoly in the town square, but that was more of a cover for far worse things. Letho had saved the woman from those times, and Karel met her once on his homeland of Black Isle. Karel was going through many changes at that time, and he never was able to get closer with those two, instead dealing with his father.

That was a regret Karel now held deeply in his chest. His friend, his best friend who had been with him through some of his hardest battles, was currently off doing a deed no sane man should do alone. It killed the Saint of Swords to hear about a man he respected so highly in this light. His friend had even neglected his own daughter, and was currently becoming a monster. Time wounds all heals... Karel though dully, making a mockery of the common saying.

The girl and Seth had spat for a moment, yelling and arguing about if the Lavinian Demon was going to kill Letho or not, but in the end Seth stated his argument, and as far as Karel could tell Seth wasn't going to go off the handle. It was sudden and caught even the Saint of Swords off guard when the tip of a staff knocked him in the chest, and two beady eyes of concern were set deep into his eyes.

"Careful, little one." Karel said sternly. "Would your father, Letho, appreciate you pointing weapons at his friends?" He smiled softly, his finger tipping away the point. The young Mage whipped the staff back and placed it under Karel's chin. "Seriously, this is not what I call a good idea." Karel's tone was more dead set and serious, his smile fading as his eyes looked down upon her like a scolding father. She began to tremble before the staff lowered down to his chest again.

"Why are you here, really honestly here?" the daughter of Letho asked. Karel eyed her suspiciously, taking a moment to glance at Seth. The demon shrugged wiping his nose with his thumb continuing to walk without them.

"My story and Letho's story have intertwined to make a fine braid in the strands of fate, little one."

"Lorelei!" She countered fiercely, her face full of stubbornness. Karel couldn't help but smile. There was more of Letho in her than he first thought. Karel began to walk, slower than his usual pace so they could have a private moment. Amaranth seemed to lean back, ever so slightly to hear what Karel had to say, but Seth just kept walking all the same.

"You have a lot of fire," Karel began.

"I swear if you say 'Just like your father' than I will hit you in the jaw with my staff." Karel laughed lifting his hands up to calm her down.

"I was actually going to say a lot of fire, just like I did back when Letho and I first met. I too owe a great deal to your father, and as far as being here, well..." Karel thumbed the edges of his letter, debating on whether to bring it out or not, and then decided on an action.

Slowly he took out the paper, and handed it over to the woman. She looked down upon it, and read the words loudly to herself.


To Karel Hector Raven, The Saint of Swords

Well met, good sir, on the acquisition of your newest title. How I do wish that these were better reasons, but I shall be brief, blunt, and to the point. Your friend Letho Ravenheart is no more. The man you once knew to be a kind and gentle soul, has sadly left this plain and in his wake remains a hollow, empty shell of a man, no, a monster of a man is all that remains.

You see, it wasn't long ago your old friend has dabbled in the necromantic arts, searching for a way to revive the dead for a fools errand. While our order, the Church of Draconus, had tried peaceably to calm him down, he instead attacked our fortress headquarters in Thaynes and fought with our esteemed champion Dario Viper, the Sunspear. It was a clash of what some would have deemed worthy foes, but Letho was no longer the proud warrior he once was, and fought using demonic magicks and underhanded tactics.

With the battle won in his favor, he went on a killing spree, murdering many of our high priests in a bloody cull to satisfy his anger and rage. However, that blood would not sate him for long. He has made his way over to a particular island, a home of the Time Mages, and he seeks them for more power.

I understand the difficulty in understanding, as well accepting, this grave news. But I would not have asked any other man in the entire world to be able to stop this man on path of destruction. You are the Saint of Swords, a man with no equal to the blade, and as Letho's friend we feel its two fold that you be the one to stop him.

Karel, we know Letho is your friend, but in the end we must ask you of this. If you turned into a monster Karel Raven, would you not want Letho to put you out of your self misery to save what you have left of your good name?

We await you on the Island indicated on this map.

Thank you blessed Saint.

Lorelei looked upon Karel with confused eyes. "I...I don't understand." She asked. "Earlier you had said," Karel lifted a warning hand, his voice talking even and clear.

"I said I would wait and see. I never once declared my allegiance to the Church or their cause. Letho Ravenheart is my friend, and I vow to figure out what the hell happened to my friend." Amaranth began to chuckle as he heard Karel's bold statement. The sword saint and Lorelei both looked up to him, and he said in a very calm voice, his finger pointing to each in turn.

"You all three think that Letho is under some spell, or he is possessed by some demon. These actions he performed are not part of the Letho you remembered. But I do have to ask," His gaze turned to Seth.

"Are you so sure Letho is as a prideful as you remebered demon? You have been dead for quite a while..." his gaze turned to Karel.

"A friendship goes a long way Karel, but the best of friends can make the coldest of enemies. What would happen if he turned into a monster?" his gaze finished on Lorelei.

"As for you. Can you believe full mind body and soul in a father you never met? Time has a way of changing things, and non of you three," his tone grew sterner like a scolding teacher as his wisdom spoke though and hit home. "None of you were there for Letho's atrocities. You didn't have first hand accounts of the devastation he has brought about." The group all in turn were shocked by these words, Amarant speaking harshly, but wisely.

Time did have a way changing things, but Karel was already confident in his course set out before him. If Letho was indeed a monster, he already came to one conclusion. "Letho Ravenheart, the man I befriended in Scara Brae, should turn out to no longer be a man of respect and dignity, but instead a man of cruelty and heinous acts, than on our friendship I shall draw up my blade and strike him down to preserve the memory of a man I call friend." Amaranth's hood fluttered in the wind as Karel looked to him with eyes of determination.

"I'll do that, or I'll die trying."

[Letho]

Instead of a usual, lazy daybreak in the east, the dawn broke almost violently over the Island of Tempus. The sun defeated the horizon in less than a minute, rising unnaturally fast before grinding to a halt just above the distant sea. The coloration changed in a matter of minutes, the dark blues and sinister blacks of the night exterminated by the first beams of sunlight. The sky, minutes ago dark and speckled with stars, changed as if somebody kept diluting the black ink until only a thin layer of it remained in the purples and azures of the dawn. The forest around them should’ve reenergized as well, but the bird chirps in the trees and the small game in the underbrush seemed slow to awaken. Perhaps they too weren’t well adjusted to the acceleration of time. It made the trek of the unlikely foursome hauntingly loud, as if they were walking through a graveyard.

Despite the shortness of the night, so much had happened in those short hours that Lorelei still couldn’t wrap her head around half of it. Hellhounds attacking their camp, Amaranth intervening, Seth and Karel revealing their stories, letters that spoke of deeds that simply couldn’t be true, it was simply far too much in such a short span. She wanted to slow down, pull on the reins and ponder on it all for a while, but there was no time for reprieve. Even before the untimely daybreak they were on the move, pushing through the tropical foliage as they followed the aged Time Mage. It was a rather dull walk through the forest, all of them seemingly caught in their own world of thoughts, trying to do what little reasoning could be done on the matter. But the truth was, there was only one man that could answer all their questions.

“Those were all interesting stories,” Amaranth spoke up after what seemed like an age of silence. The hooded man, despite his apparent decrepit state, moved at a fast pace, the ferns and vines on their path not hindering his advance. “Incomplete though they might be. I shall tell you another shortly.”

Before anyone got a chance to seek elaboration on his cryptic talk, the stringy wizard shouldered past a curtain made of fat fern leaves, stepping into the clearing beyond. Before him a vast flatland stretched, a grassy plateau bathed in the vibrant morning light, seemingly stretching to the sea on the far end. Upon further inspection, however, once they emerged from below the tree crowns and her eyes adjusted to the sheer amount of light, Lorelei realized that, while surrounded by forest on three sides, the fourth one ended with a precipice. At the edge of it, arranged in an orderly, symmetrical fashion, was a complex of buildings made of black stone, mostly what seemed like one-storey buildings and short towers. Only when she shielded her eyes from the stabbing rays of the eastern sun did she realize that the black stone was black because of the burn marks, and that the short towers were short because they were half-collapsed.

“This was the academy of the Time Mages,” Amaranth began again as he started to walk towards the burnt buildings, not waiting to see whether the rest were following his pace. His voice was tired, silent, his breath wheezing as if he had lung cancer. “This was one of the places Letho struck after disembarking upon these shores. He wanted... No, no, he demanded to be taught temporal magicks. When asked why, he said that he needed to turn back the course of time in order to change something in the past. What a deluded fool.”

The walk across the field continued, the scorched aftermath before them gifting them with a whiff of smoldering wood and burnt flesh. “You see, such a feat cannot be done. Time is like a river: you can accelerate it, turn it, shape it, even stop it. But you cannot reverse its flow. Letho refused to accept this undeniable truth. Unsurprising really. Desperate men always believe in something that cannot be done, especially if it is their last hope.”

The closer they got, the more of the gruesome detail they could see. No woodwork seemed to remain on the buildings before them, the flammable material devoured by flames, leaving charcoaled stone husks and piles of ash. The towers, once lean and tall and proud, were slanted and broken like shattered spear tips, as if they were struck at the base by an immense force. The narrow walkways and the finely cut grass through which they led were littered with craters and burn marks. And in the middle of the entire complex, in what might’ve been a square once, was what looked like remains of a bonfire. Once they reached the first houses on the outskirts of the complex, Lorelei could see that it was actually a remnant of a pyre, and that the charcoaled sticks within it were actually human bones. Amaranth brought them to a halt in front of it.

“He was like a tidal wave,” the old man said, his eyes focused on the pile of bones. “Unstoppable, invincible, relentless. He did not care that there were women and children in the academy, did not care that they did not have the answer to his problem. In fact, he hated them for it, attacking with vehemence of a possessed man. Magicks seemed to have no effect on him. He swatted away everything they hurled at him and walked through the flames unharmed. Not even halting time could stop him.”

The old man’s speech was interrupted by an attack of dry coughs, making him lurch over his staff and shiver beneath his robes. He almost seemed ready to drop to his knees when the coughing stopped and he regained his composure. “He left some alive,” Amaranth continued, one hand on his staff while the other made sure his hood was in place. His tone was flat and emotionless, almost uncaring. “But it was only to further interrogate them. He tortured most of them, a skill he learned while still back in Savion, and when they failed to provide him with what he coveted, he added their bodies to the pyre.”

“Is this something your friend would do?” he finally asked, lashing out with his piercing eyes at Seth and Karel before turning them towards Lorelei. “Is this something your hero would do?”

When there was no reply for a couple of seconds, he turned his back to the three. “We rest here,” Amaranth said, walking away towards the precipice.

[Dissinger]

"And so another demon is born into the world..."

The words hung in the air as Seth looked upon the carnage. Even in the vaunted year of slaughter he had never destroyed a village. His death toll surely would have reached that of a few smaller ones, but not the total destruction of a people who would never be seen again. It chilled him to his core to see such a thing, even as the demons within his own heart stirred and jeered him for the lack of resolve to top such atrocities.

His companions seemed to be in a daze, even as Seth moved to the bonfire. The sounds of bones crushing beneath his heel sickened him more, but he had to know. Moving into the center of the once grand pyre he closed his eyes and gently reached his hand down. Feeling the ground that should have been as cold as the morning air revealed the truth. The pyre was only recently snuffed out, the center of the bonfire, where the fire had blazed its hottest, was still warm from the voracious flames.

Immediately Ebony was pulled from its sheath as he spoke out, "Old man, you said he let a few live, then slowly added them to the pyre. This pyre is still a few hours since its death..."

The Time Mage was silent.

Seth rose from the ashes, blade in his hand as he slowly walked towards the old man. His hand never wavering even as his voice did raw with emotion, the first genuine look into the thief's heart, "Letho and I were cut from the same cloth. Taught we could do no wrong, and that if we applied ourselves we could do anything. We were told that Destiny was the chains of fools and that sheer determination alone could shatter those chains. That only those who wished to live in obscurity would relish their chains and accept their fate."

Still, the mage was silent.

"That was our greatest fault. We were told that we were above the concerns of a world, and that our actions paved our destiny. My legacy was destroyed by my actions several years ago when I murdered my parents in cold blood," The admission jerked a pause in the thief's tread as he came closer to the aged man. His gauntlet squeaked as he tightened the grip on Ebony, he had tears he had a heart and it had taken someone nearly ruining her life on his behalf to help him find it. He had wandered numb and alone trying to figure out how to get himself killed, when she swept him up.

But there was no Liliana for Letho, not anymore.

Fighting back the tide of emotions that sought to overwhelm him he stood a few feet from the old man. His eyes squeezed tightly shut before he spoke softly, tossing the words so that they were the old man's alone;

"I had always hoped that one day Letho would prove me wrong about my suspicions. That Letho would break the shackles of gold we willingly put around our wrists, when we decided to destroy the world about us. Shackles of gold they may be, their luster and beauty attractive. But shackles they were, and shackles they remain, firmly fixed to us in a destiny carved in bodies."

If the old man got the words, he made no sign of it. Yet Seth spoke his last words in a growling whisper, sent once more so only Amaranth could hear them, "If Letho wiped out the Time Mages, why do you still remain?"

[Zantetsuken]

Karel looked at the ravaged town and smelled the fuming pyres, and the hint of death still lingered in the air. Karel's hands instinctively went to hilts of his swords and he watched the area with careful eyes. Seth went on about something he had done, admitting to crimes he committed, but Karel agreed, destruction such as this was a very rare breed of insanity.

"Letho," Karel whispered. "Please don't tell me you have become him..." Karel thought his greatest rival, the vile Vladimir Sigma, and shuddered thinking of how his friend could be anything like that man. His eyes watched Lorelei walk forward, a sort of destructive power washing over her as she looked upon the carnage. How could you Letho? How could you make your own flesh and blood witness this when you barely were there for your daughter's childhood... Karel felt his ire rise as he stepped next to the girl, his left hand touching her shoulder.

"Nobody should have to see, or be a part of, a slaughter like this," Karel apologized to her. "It's sad to think that human nature could bring any man to acts like this..." Lorelei remained neutral, her face still in awe of the destruction.

"I," She tried to speak, but couldn't at the present time. She shrugged Karel's shoulder off and gave him a warning look. "I'm fine. This isn't enough to shake me." Karel looked to her, and then sighed heavily as he placed another hand on her shoulder.

"If you are telling me you are unaffected by destruction such as this, than Lorelei you are treading down a very narrow and twisted road. I expected the daughter of Letho to have remorse in her heart, but I guess once again the Ravenheart family has proven me wrong." He let his hand slide, and felt Lorelei grab it, her eyes pleading to him.

"I didn't," she stammered. "That is to say..." her eyes looked to her feet for support and Karel squeezed the hand letting it go.

"I know kid, this is not exactly the heart warming family reunion for you now is it?" He winked to her and looked out over the land. "Just remember, kiddo, Letho's strength and virtue hides within you. Keep it and hold onto it like a jealous lover. It's those qualities we see so few these days...It's easy for someone strong like Seth and I to come here, and pretend to be ignorant, but someone as gentle and warming as you, this shows how much strength you have inside you." Karel let the words sink in as he took a few steps away from her and walked over to Seth.

He watched the deductions going on and Karel felt a twinge of truth behind what Seth was saying. The rouge made a very valid point, but at the current moment the only thing keeping them all alive right at the time was Amarath, and Karel wasn't about to let him get cut to ribbons, that is, even if Seth could. Karel wasn't even sure he would be able to take on Amaranth in the current situation, not even if the Lavinian Demon had his back. In this place where time had no meaning, it was Amaranth who would play king maker.

Karel lowered his hand and grabbed the wrist of Seth, twisting it up like he would to a small bratty child. "My my have we all gotten hostile in the whee hours of the morning. Forgive Seth here, he just didn't get his beauty rest," Karel turned his gaze to Seth and winked. "Which as we all know he needs very, very badly." Seth broke the hold and sneered at Karel, pointing again at Amaranth.

"My question is still valid, and I want an answer." The rouge said plainly. Karel lifted his finger tapping the crystal around Seth's neck that was fracturing as it pointed to Amaranth.

"Memory serves me right, Seth, that trinket of yours points to whoever has the most magical power in this area. And it's not pointing to you, me, or even the ground or sky. It's pointing to Amaranth. So let's just all play nice and give the old fart a break." Karel dropped his finger and turned to Amaranth.

"The guy has given us a fair explanation so far on everything else, I know he'll give us a good one for that." Karel's tone hinted at Amaranth, giving him the silent ultimatum. "He knows our patience isn't as boundless as time itself..." he warned.

[Letho]

Sitting on a boulder with his back to the destroyed Academy, Amaranth seemed completely untouched by the arguing that went on between the three. Even when the sound of unsheathed metal could be heard and Seth made his deadly approach, his eyes were transfixed on some spot at the sun-basked horizon, as if the occurrences of the world around him had no effect on him. He heard their words, their questions, felt their wills battling with the revelation he had given them, and found himself numb towards their predicament. But then again, these days he found himself numb to a whole lot of things. Annihilation has a bad habit of doing that to a man.

“There is more to the story, is there not?” Lorelei joined the protests. Amaranth had to suppress a chuckle; the three sounded to him like children asking their parent to finish the bedtime story. “What else do you know about Letho, wizard?”

For several long-lasting seconds no response whatsoever, nothing to reveal that the ancient mage even heeded their words. And when the tension in the air seemed to reach a critical point where one of the three was bound to lash out with more than words, the raspy voice spoke again. And every word it spoke seemed saturated by malice.

“What I know you cannot even dream to fathom,” Amaranth spoke, still as calm as if he was one with the stone beneath him. Even though he kept his back to them still, Lorelei could feel as if there was a set of eyes at the back of his head and that they were looking down on her, pressuring her like an invisible current. “I know that Letho Ravenheart was not the loving, caring husband you believe him to be. I know that he was a soldier, the bloody mud of the battlefield his true home, and there was nothing that could change that. He was born and bred to fight, lived of the sword and by the sword.”

His words seemed to silence everything, the sole intruding sound in an otherwise dead land. Not even the wind seemed to dare to defy his voice. “And I know he was a coward. Because it is so easy to be a soldier, so easy to be just a swordhand, so easy to obey some order or other. Peacetime, now there was something he did not know how to handle, no soldier does, I guess. That was perhaps why, even when she told him she was pregnant, he did not abandon that futile war for Corone. He told himself he was making a safer world for his family, that there would be time afterwards. A convenient lie.”

“How... how do you know this?” Lorelei’s voice was so silent it was almost a whisper. It was still enough to make Amaranth pick up his staff and rise with a sigh, straightening his bowed back.

“I know that he first sought help from the clergy. I know how bitter the bite of the winter was that year and how fiercely he whipped the horses as he sped towards Radasanth and the Cathedral of Draconus. I know how lifeless and empty her corpse was and how desperately he clung to it.” Amaranth’s voice, rough and calm, seemed to be growing in power with every word spoken despite its volume remaining the same. It almost seemed that his figure too grew somehow, as if his presence, his aura was being amplified by the contents of his monologue. His back-of-the-head eyes were now turned towards Karel. “And I know how the fools rejected his request, how they claimed that her soul was trapped in the Underworld, how they told him that his beloved was not only dead but condemned to an eternity of suffering. She, who never in her life spoke a harsh word, never harmed anyone, never spread anything but benevolence. I know of the rage he unleashed, of beast awakened, of fire and blood, and of the first steps on a new path. The good and the pure failed. The darkness was all that remained.”

“You are... But it cannot be,” Lorelei murmured. Amaranth turned with agonizing slowness, his dead brown eyes falling on Seth next.

“I know of his time amongst the necromancers and his study of the dark arts. I know of the steady corruption that spread within him like a disease, claiming one part of him at a time. The necromancers helped this process, of course, seeing an opportunity to create a powerful hound that would follow their commands. I know of the promises they made, telling him that with the proper training he could release her soul from the darkness.” Amaranth’s free hand moved a little bit and a small amulet appeared from the sleeve of his robe. The jagged blood-red crystal at the end of the silver chain pulsated with such power that it made the grass thread bend to its rhythm. “I know of the amulet they gave him, a powerful little thing that tapped into his endless might and transformed it into dark magick. And I know of the point in time when the student surpassed their masters and saw through their empty words.”

“You are him, are you not?” Lorelei’s lips shivered as she spoke those words, as did her hands that clung to her staff, the girl suddenly feeling the need to defend herself from this man before her. She could feel the vile aura around him, pressuring them all like a giant anvil, and the sheer power of that aura nearly made her sick to her stomach.

“No,” the old man growled, pulling down the cowl of his robe. The face it revealed was gaunt and unshaved, a face made of old leather that should’ve belonged to a man twice Letho’s age. His gray hair was unkempt and long, falling in straight, greasy locks to his shoulders. And his eyes... They were the thing that terrified her the most. Looking into those eyes was like looking at the death of all things. “Letho Ravenheart died years ago. I am what he left behind, what remained after all the benevolence was snuffed out. Your father... your friend, you will not find him here.”

Tears welled up in the eyes of Letho’s daughter, tears of fear and disappointment, tears borne of dreams being crushed in one swift blow. She came here with such naïve ideas, such childish intentions and she found them destroyed by the one man she sought all her life. Instead of a loving, wayward father she found a vile shell of a man that contained none of the kindness she felt in the words of his letter to her. It was unfair. It was life. It was a lesson in growing up in one single morning.

“Why... Why did you save us? Back in the forest, why did you save us?” she asked, sniffling and doing her best to knuckle tears out of the corners of her eyes.

“Did I?” Amaranth asked, a smirk stretching over those sickly visible cheekbones. The amulet in his gauntleted hand gave out a jolt and a pair of dimensional tears appeared next to him with a crackle, opening a portal for a pair of hellhounds. The infernal beasts stood calmly at his side, their eyes unfocused and blank. “I merely called the beasts off. Curiosity got the better of me, I guess. I wanted to see what my old friends are doing here. I wanted to see what you are doing here, my daughter.”

“You... You are NOT my father! You-you monster!!” she spat at him, but her attempts at toughness only made the old man chuckle. It was a sinister, mocking chuckle, the kind that revealed Letho’s true nature. He was no longer the just, considerate lawman of Corone. He was a beast that cared for others not at all.

“Precisely,” he responded. “And now that you three know this, what shall you do?” His free hand went to the clasp that held the robes together and tore it off, allowing the worn cloth to fall from his bony figure. It revealed the dragonscale armor below, or rather the ruined remnants of it. Once a magnificent cuirass made of burgundy scales, the armor was torn and in dire need of repair, seemingly clinging to Letho’s body by will alone. Scorch and cut marks covered its surface, some even wide enough to show the pale flesh below. When Letho’s hand moved again, it took the canvas covering from the tip of his staff, revealing the silver spear tip covered in intricate runes. “I would suggest you leave. There is nothing for you here anymore.”

[Dissinger]

"Lorelai, run, head straight for the ship, and don't stop until you are on deck," Seth replied. Ebony was held lightly in his right hand, even as he looked deeply into Letho's eyes, eyes he had sworn he would never see again. They were dangerous eyes, lifeless eyes that held no care for the world about him. Not since Serenti had he seen those eyes, and they had been sacrificed on the altar of forgiveness, so he could get Myrhia back. Even Seth understood how quickly one could revert, if the reason to remain strong was denied. Ivory was pulled cleanly from its sheath while he glared down the man, his emotions draining away as he felt a rage kindle in his chest.

"Had I known what I sowed, when you took my demons upon yourself, perhaps I would have let you kill me back in Corone. Had I fathomed just what depths of depravity you would plumb, I would have never let you take on my burden. ‘Cause now I see it’s consumed you wholly. What happened to the man Myrhia loved? What the hell happened to the man who saved my wife and kid?"

Karel seemed to move, almost to hedge in before Seth moved up to the man, his steps deliberate. A finger was pointed in the man's face before she spoke, "What the hell happened to the man who force fed me honor and justice until I couldn't stand it anymore? If that asshole is dead, then I'm going to rip that body apart and look for the corpse, because I won't accept that, I refuse to accept that!"

The words hung in the air as he looked defiantly into those eyes. The eyes of perhaps his greatest ally in the battle he waged daily for his very soul. They had never been friends, even after he had come back from the dead he had not seen fit to go forth and tell Ravenheart. He figured they were even, and Letho would never have need of the Thief again. Seth did it out of respect for the couple, and hoped never to sully their doorstep.

Then the letter came.

Seth had a nagging feeling that the letter was wholly truthful. He had at first ignored the letter, given it to Liliana and told her to burn it. She had read it of course, and they talked about it. He had tried as hard as he could to rationalize not going, but that doubt, that kernel or truth he knew resided in the letter, was persistent. Finally he talked it over with her, and they agreed he should go. She had been insistent from the get go, telling him Letho needed him now, just as Seth had needed Letho years prior. It had just taken him a few days to agree with her. Saying goodbye to his wife and daughter, he left for Antioch, and from there picked up the clues of Letho’s passing.

Now he knew the truth, and he was furious.

The hounds growled, and Seth stared into their eyes, a fire within them that was unmatched by any other. It held every bit of malice he had ever contained within them as a Hex Magi, but still there was life. This was no man who had given into his demons, he was the demon, and those that gnawed at his heart had been wiped out in the tide of fury that marked his resurrection. The hounds even seemed put off by the look he gave them, before those eyes looked firmly into those dead ones.

"You got five seconds to back down Ravenheart, and then I'm going to paint the walls in your blood searching for where you hid yourself."

[Zantetsuken]

While the threats of Seth gave the man before him time to back down, Karel gave him no such compulsion. It was a manner of moments when the Sword Saint charged forward, steel katana held high overhead as it swung downwards in a vicious vertical assault. Letho eyed the attack, lifting up one single gauntlet hand to catch the blade.

Karel let out a wry smile, as he brought the sword back down in a feint, switching to a horizontal attack. The blade dipped into Letho's flesh shallowly, blood trailing down the tip of the blade draining towards the hilt. Karel and Letho's eyes managed to lock for a fleeting moment, before Letho howled in rage grasping one hand around the blade, and throwing a wild punch with the other. The blow was far too fast even for the sword saint, and his jaw shifted viciously to the right as the punch went through.

Karel released his grip on the Karla Garnet Raven, his hand already reaching into his fighter's coat pulling out a single solitary dagger, the words Hector Michael Raven etched into the hilt. With a deft move Karel released the weapon forward, the dagger flying high as it hit Letho in the shoulder that was coming at him.

Another growl of irritation escaped Letho's mouth, and he ripped the dagger out discarding it to the side as if it was nothing more than a mild irritant, his hand casting the sword to the other side. The two friend's locked eyes yet again, and Karel felt all his hatred swell up.

"What has become of you, old friend!?!" Karel screamed, venom etched in every word he spoke. "What madness has over taken the soul that has been by my side countless times before?!?!" Karel felt tears of rage fall down the side of his face, and he pulled out the Serra Karla Raven.

"Don't you ever listen, Karel?" Letho bellowed back, his own rage matching Karel's. "I told you that man has died a long time ago." Karel felt his choler rise, and not just him as Seth now ran into the fight as well.

The Saint and the Demon crossed paths in an 'x' pattern, confusing Letho as too which threat to assess first, but it was the Lavinian that struck home first. Twin daggers danced in a whirling dervish of spite and malice, Letho's hands moving in time to the rhythm of the mayhem as sparks flew off the gauntlets and blades. Seth did a powerful lunge, and that over extension allowed Letho to grab his arm and rotate with the momentum, launching Seth at Karel like a crooked arrow.

Using all his skill Karel leapt over Seth, and as if reading Karel's mind the demon stood erect so Karel's feet could use his back for a spring board, launching himself at the former glory of Letho. The Serra Karla Raven whistled against the air, and Letho was shocked, but not unprepared for the strike.

With a flash of bright light another, larger, broader blade blocked the blow, and it was a mix of athletic agility by Karel, and strength by Letho to hold him in the air, huddled over pushing all his weight onto the blade. The two locked eyes for a third time, and Karel could swear he saw a pleading, desperate look, but it was gone in a moment of rage as Letho used all his might to toss him off his spear.

Karel rolled with the landing, skidding a few feet back next to Seth, who stalked up next to Karel placing one hand under Karel's arm helping him up. Karel knew the hidden words that weren't spoken, and it was clear they had to both team against the man before them if they would stand any chance.

"Letho," Karel murmured. "You sick, deluded fool. When will the dirt that has clouded your vision be wiped away?!" Karel pointed his sword at Letho's chest, and he spoke with icy vindication as he did his best to control his rage. "Ask yourself this, Letho Ravenheart. Would this be the wishes of Myrhianna? Would she approve of the wretch you allowed yourself to become?!?!"

[Letho]

At the sound of her name, the languid look in Letho’s eyes was eradicated in an instant, making way for the red flames of malevolence. And even as that internal inferno awoke, the amulet in his left exploded, sending out tendrils of ink-black energy that enveloped his decrepit body. Such was the power of the dark magick that pulsated outwards from his body that every beat of Letho’s black heart sent out a ripple through the nature around him, bending backwards everything from blades of grass underfoot to the tree branches in the distance. And at the epicenter of these disturbance the shattered remnants of Letho Ravenheart unleashed the madness contained within.

“YOU SANCTIMONIOUS SON OF A WHORE!!!” he bawled at the Saint of Swords. And by the time the air carried the last of his curse to Karel’s ears, Letho’s body was turned into naught but blur and shimmer, only to regain its corporeal form several paces from his old friend. The usage of time magicks allowed him to catch Karel unprepared, extending his spear straight for the heart of his foe without hesitation. By reflex and instinct alone, the swordsaint managed to duck just enough for the silvery tip to perforate his shoulder instead of his chest. Still, such was the might behind the strike that it pinned Karel to the crumbling stone wall of one of the ruined buildings around them. At the far end of the weapon that dug into his flesh, staring at him like a rabid wolf in search of living flesh, Letho Ravenheart released a bit more of his madness.

“Her wishes?! HER WISHES?!” he spat at the man, twisting the spear and widening the wound, making Karel scream out in pain. By then Seth was already on the move, silent and deadly as the Thief Extraordinaire tended to be, but before he even got a chance to break the grip Letho had on his ally, Letho’s left hand moved. The amulet that dangled around its wrist game out another vibrant pulse, and a force wave swept outwards from the crazed fallen hero, shoving Seth backwards and into the ash pile left by the pyre. The fiery eyes turned their flames back to Karel. “What do you think you know about her wishes, you fool? NOTHING! Let me tell you something; I am pretty damn certain that one of them wasn’t being stuck in hell for all times. So keep you preaching to yourself, Saint.”

With Karel still hanging from the sharp end of his weapon, Letho yanked the spear out of the stone behind Karel’s back, then swung it outwards. This move finally released the Saint of Swords from the pain caused by the metal twisting in his flesh, but it also sent him rolling uncontrollably through the debris of the battlefield. He came to a stop just in time to hear Letho’s final warning. “And do not EVER speak her name again!”

By the time Seth got up from amidst the human bones and smoldering ashes and helped Karel up, Letho was already trudging forward, the pulsating sensation around him a pressure that could nearly made a grown man’s ears bleed. On the face that looked down on his friends of old there was nothing left of that famous lawman they once knew. The inferno had devoured that man, leaving only the lunacy, the malevolence, the pain.

“You should have left. You should have fled when you had the chance,” the madman’s voice rumbled, his fist clutching the scarlet ruby of the amulet that empowered him. “But you did not. You are too stubborn, too pathetic, too foolish. And now you have to pay.”

***

The foolish one from Letho’s rant, Lorelei Ravenheart, was at a complete loss. Curled up in a corner of the base of one ruined tower, the young mage clung to her staff and cursed the tears that kept pouring down her cheeks. She didn’t run away as Seth commanded, couldn’t, not now when, after all those years without him, she had finally found her father. And yet there was nothing she could do about the madness that had claimed the man. He was too powerful, too far gone; she could feel the ripples of his dark magick reverberating all around her. It felt like a throbbing infested wound and nearly made her sick to her stomach. She could hear his voice, the harsh words he spat at the only two people in the world that wanted to help him. And she could remember the look in his eyes, the careless, mocking look of pity that he had directed at her only moments ago. It made her feel like a tick that came here only to annoy him.

And she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep the faith and believe that there was a real Letho Ravenheart somewhere beyond this corrupted façade, not after all that had transpired. Not after that look. Wiping her face in the sleeve of her dusty robes, she took out the rolled parchment that contained the only remaining shred of her true father. Shutting her eyes tight, she squeezed her little fist around it as hard as she could, and then made it burst into flames.

Her father, the honorable Letho Ravenheart, was dead.

[Dissinger]

Seth looked upon the menace that had become his most trusted ally. Picking up on the anger that Karel had evoked with the memory of Letho's fallen love Seth snorted derisively even as the magic pulsed through him, trying to crush him under its impressive weight. Seth wasn’t sure if this was merely a manifestation of magical power, or a spell. The effect was disconcerting, but the Lavinian had no time to ponder it, not with Letho bearing down upon them.

"Karel, don't try to argue with a lunatic. I'm sure he's glad Myrhia is dead now anyways, so she doesn't have to catch his temper tantrum," The Lavinian demon spat making it loud and clear what Seth thought of the once grand hero.

He knew the man would react violently for the jab Seth took, but he had to continue if only to throw the beast off his game. Letho focused on Seth's destruction was easily viable, after all the thief had weathered a far worse storm in the afterlife. Compared to what he was going through now, it was only a trifle of power that Seth exhausted. Letho's punishment however, was the Lavinian's acerbic wit.

"What's the matter boy? Am I too fast for you? Should I slow down so you can hurt me?" Seth taunted, even as he evaded a blow meant to take his head off. He continued the taunts as he brought his knife forward in an attempt to cut the straps, holding the ramshackle pieces of armor to his body, "Perhaps I should get a wet nurse over here to help you. You seem to be too stupid to be allowed to play with such a dangerous toy."

He continued to poke and prod at the man's pride. Even when Seth had fallen to Hex Magic, he was a beast of habit, and one habit was to destroy anything that assaulted his pride with a reckless abandon. While he and Letho were one in the same, Seth also knew that the man had an Ego as big as Seth's, if not more so. At the very least he could force Letho to focus on him, while letting Karel get in his free hits wherever he could.

Still that damnable mana kept crushing him, fatiguing and drawing his vitality with every breath. He fought against it, his will hammering at its hold upon him, so that at the very least it could not stop him from acting. Still, the damage it was doing was slowly becoming apparent as the blood flew from his body, trails of it dripping from his eyes, his ears. The pressure of being so close to the beast was getting to be too much, as even his fingers began to bleed at the nails. The deadly dance of blades and magic continued, even as he sought to sink Ebony and Ivory deep, and disrupt his magic with pain itself.

It’s that damnable amulet. I have to get that thing off him...

He began to attack from the left, striking to cut the amulet free of his embrace, as he continued to struggle against the hulking brute of a man. His life slowly trickling away, with every motion he took flinging more of his precious blood free of his body.

For a man who sought redemption, he was certain he could find it in redeeming his friend.

[Zantetsuken]

Karel’s blades landed on the ground, skidding a few feet away from Letho as the spear twirled in the air, hitting Karel with the flat end upon his head causing him to soar after them. One hand reached low, dragging across the dirt as he bounced off the tough terrain before he began to roll. Wondering if he would ever stop moving he slammed into a wall of rubble, the grout separating into dust and falling on him.

“God’s be damned.” Karel said woozily. “He’s too damned strong.” Karel slowly got up, his body aching as his feet started to a brisk jog. Soon he was back into the swing of things as he built up momentum stooping low and grabbing the hilt of his blade in hand twirling it to a more comfortable grip. The back of his hair stood on end, and years of fighting warned him of the sudden danger, and he slid on the ground lifting one hand up. A heavy hand grabbed it, using the momentum of Karel to stop his flight as the two twirled like a tornado from opposite momentum shifts.

When they both stood tall Karel lifted his sword up defensively, Seth dropping to one knee spitting blood out of his body. “Feels like the weight of the world doesn’t it?” Karel asked. Seth nodded getting back up, holding his daggers in hand.

“It’s that damnable amulet he’s got.” Seth spat the last of his life fluid and Karel noticed the cuts in his body were getting deeper and deeper. “We got to break it from him somehow.” The sword saint nodded, his breath coming out in one sigh as he looked to Letho.

“I suppose asking him to play fair would be out of the question.” Karel joked. Seth put on a grin of amusement.

“No, bastard never learned how to play fair in kiddy school.” Karel let out a snort of mirth, and the two chuckled for a moment as they regained their breaths. In reality, they weren’t laughing at the joke, but laughing to release the stress in their body. Letho’s power was incredibly high, and unless they do something about it, soon they would all be dead. Althanas had many heroes, but he was positive it would take more than that to stop his old friend now.

Karel leapt forward, sword held at the ready as the spear sang in the air, whistling as the bladed tip blocked Karel’s attack. Seth dove in next, with one high attack, and one low attack as he lunged forward. The haft of the spear hit Seth square in the chest, and he twirled around using all his strength to knock Seth into Karel.

The two stumbled over each other, neither one able to get anything going in terms of righting themselves as they landed in a pile of flesh and blades. Karel groaned as he found Seth’s body had pushed the Karla Garnet Raven into the ground all the way to the hilt. One of Seth’s daggers was also dangerously close to killing Karel, the blackened blade dug into the earth half way up the metal surface pinning Karel’s jacket in place.

“This retard bash strategy isn’t working!” Seth shouted at Karel, ripping Ebony from the ground.

“Really, because I’ve been waiting for you to come up with something better this whole time.” Karel said irritably as the two got back to a vertical base.

Karel’s eyes suddenly tracked a glint of shining, and he pulled Seth out of the way just as the spear thrust forward, nearly impaling the Lavinian demon. Seth’s battlefield awarness took a quick assessment and he grabbed the shaft of the spear, holding it in his hand and pulling. Karel grabbed the shaft as well and he pulled in a dangerous game of tug-of-war.

“PULL WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT!” Karel shouted. Letho’s eyes were full of eldritch power, his mouth grinning as he heard the words Karel spoke and it was a simple gesture of spite that he let go just as Seth and Karel pulled with all their might. The two slammed into each other, Seth hitting Karel and the spear traveled with them as they hit another wall of debris.

Seth grumbled as he got up, charging forward. “Karel, go for the other side, he’s lost his range advantage and now we can both charge in freely! Now is the only chance we got!” Seth shouted as his daggers spun his hand like a spinning top, Letho’s hands moving in a blur to avoid being cut.

But Karel never responded to the command as he looked down upon the spear that was lodged deep into his stomach.

[Letho]

Letho Ravenheart and Karel Raven went back a long way. The first time they had met – an auspicious rendezvous on the outskirts of Scara Brae – they were little more than aspiring adventurers, with nothing to their name but a crummy blade and a lousy sword technique. But they have grown, evolved, and always did so in a friendly competition, honoring the success of the other. And they have fought together, guarded each other’s back on numerous occasions, bled together and lived to tell the tale afterwards. They weren’t friends; their relationship transcended that. Though they shared no blood relation, they truly were brothers. And yet, despite this connection the two have shared for so long, Letho had only one word for his brother in arms.

“Pathetic.”

The view of Karel impaled by his spear evoked nothing but disdain in the corrupted lawman, serving as another testimony of Letho’s fall into the abyss. His wrath was like a shroud before his eyes, painting everything blood red and making him see only what he wanted to see. In his eyes, it wasn’t his brother that had fallen. It was just another foe that dared to stand in his path of retribution. By now he wasn’t even certain at who exactly this retribution was directed – the Corone Empire, the Time Mages, the whole godsforsaken world – but that was the thing about retribution. Once you got that avalanche rolling, there was no stopping until it ran its course.

Seth was coming at him again, trying to exploit the fact that Letho’s spear was sheathed in Karel’s flesh, spinning his daggers with masterful precision. But just being deadly fast couldn’t cut it anymore against Letho. Calling forth the magic channeled through his amulet once again, he did his vanishing act again, tugging on the threads of time enough to stop its course for but a second. It was enough to make him appear behind Seth without the thief’s eyes ever witnessing the motion. But what his eyes couldn’t see, his extraordinary reflexes could, and even as Letho’s body fell back into the natural flow of time, Seth’s elbow swept backwards, hitting the teleported man in the chin. Catching Letho on the back foot for probably the first time since the battle began, the rogue made full use of it, coming in with his daggers next. The black-and-white blades sang as they sliced through air and flesh, ripping apart what was left of Letho’s armor.

“Not... so...cocky...anymore... are you?” Seth squeezed in between each slash, aiming his strikes deftly around Letho’s parries. When one of the slices finally seemed poorly aimed in this tornado the thief conjured, the dark swordsman moved his left to catch it, then did the same with the subsequent right. Letho grinned. Despite his chest being slashed to bloody ribbons and pain pulsing through his body, he grinned. He didn’t expect Seth to grin in return. And when he turned his eyes to his left, he could see the reason. Though he managed to catch Seth’s arm by the wrist, the cunning bastard managed to slip his blade between strings from which his talisman dangled.

“Something caught your eye?” the smarmy scoundrel asked, and before Letho could do his time warp thing again wrung his hand free of the iron grasp just enough to slice through the strings. The burgundy jewel, free from its restrains, soared through midair and towards the precipice. But before it could roll down the long slope and disappear in the jungle below, Letho was on the move again, teleporting himself in its path and catching it at the very edge of the cliff. The enchanted ruby gave out a satisfying pulse as it returned to the hand of its owner.

“Enough! I grow tired of playing with you weaklings!” Letho exclaimed spreading the fingers of his right hand and pointing it towards Karel. With as much as a thought he recalled his spear, the weapon yanking itself out of Karel’s belly with intentional vigor before it spun and flew back into Letho’s waiting hand. Seth was on the move again, as tireless in his second life as he was stubborn in the first, but Letho stopped him in his tracks with another one of his energy outbursts. The feisty thief crossed his daggers before him, blocking the oncoming blast, but when the dark man on the other end of the battlefield sent another, it threw him down on his knees. It gave Letho the pause he needed to summon his endgame.

“This ends now,” he muttered. The black tendrils that continually seeped from the amulet in all directions now changed their course, funneling themselves into the spear in Letho’s right. The continuous pressure of dark power seemed to lessen for the duration of this process, so much so that by the end of it there seemed to be no trace of it in the air around them. The spear in Letho’s hand, however, seemed to be bursting with energy, the aura so vibrant that it seemed as if it would implode any second. The smirk was back on the too-old face of the fallen hero as he looked back at his foes. “my friends.”

The spear flew from his hands at an incredible speed, turning into a black smudge as it cut through the sunny day. But it wasn’t aimed at his enemies. Letho launched it at the sky above, the weapon moving in a straight line as if the law of gravity had no effect on it. And when it was high enough, when it was a mere dark speck at the end of a long black line that cut the sky in half, it exploded. And darkness fell upon the Tempus Island. Covering the sun above as well as most of the azure sky of the dome above, a massive portal gaped open, seemingly devouring all the colors around it and leaving only the hollow blackness. Lightning snapped and crackled at the edges of this hole in the world, like snakes made of light that still fought against the darkness. But they could do nothing to stop the oncoming rain.

Descending at the same blistering speed with which Letho’s weapon flew skywards, a shower of obsidian spears came down upon the plateau, each one as sharp and deadly as the real thing. And when they struck the soil below, everything around these shards of jet black withered and died, leaving only desolation. In the middle of this ungodly rain, Letho was the conductor, bringing down the death upon the world that had taken so much from him.

And then, when all hope seemed lost and the end seemed inevitable, a shard of light cut through the darkness he summoned.

“I will not let you do this!” a voice shouted, no longer timid and docile, but strong and determined, a voice of a warrior in the midst of battle. It came from the middle of a white dome that edged forward, soon engulfing both Karel and Seth. Every black spear that touched the edge of this sphere shattered and vanished, leaving naught but a tendril of black smoke. At the very center of this white globe, standing with her staff held high overhead and her eyes set on a corrupted husk that used to be her father, Lorelei Ravenheart dared to stand up to the annihilation from above.

“For my mother, for your friends, and for all those you hurt, father,” the girl shouted from the top of her lungs, her aura blazing and empowering her protective spell. “I shall destroy you!”

[Dissinger]

The smile was effaced from the face of the warrior; even as he saw his progeny step forward in defiance. Each step of Lorelai held within it a confidence that Seth knew hadn't been there before. Perhaps it was seeing both the most vile and most virtuous people of Althanas stand together to fight. Perhaps it was the visage of a blood drenched Seth, moving and fighting long after a normal man would have stopped. Perhaps it was the severity of the situation that saw Karel impaled upon the spear.

But Lorelai Ravenheart, daughter of Letho and Myrhia, had returned, and with her came a light that pierced the darkness.

"Useless brat! I warned you what defying me meant. Do not think for one moment that I will spare you because you are of my blood!" The words were venomous, seeping into the veins of all present and poisoning them towards the newcomer. Surely it would have sapped the will of his child, but she remained resolute, even as she held tightly onto the staff. Lorelai looked at the bubble about her, before Letho reached forward with a hand, and in a definitive gesture, increased the rain.

The young mage groaned under the renewed assault upon the sanctuary she had created. The rain pounded against the barrier, what once had been dozens turned to hundreds of obsidian spears, each one chipping away at the willpower of the young Mage. Were she to guess how much longer she could withstand such an onslaught, she could not say, only hazard two minutes at most.

Seth moved to the edge of the bubble, each step deliberate as he glared down the madman before him. Gone was the casual maneuvers, even the artistic and characteristic twirl of his blades were missing. He was no longer fighting for enjoyment or amusement, something had snapped within the thief. Letho’s determination to kill his child had awoken dark memories in the Lavinian, even as he glared down the man. He moved to the edge of the barrier, looking across the battlefield at the man he had trusted with his wife years ago.

"Wait, Seth! I'll try to push it forward, but don't go out there yet! If you do-"

"Hurry it up. I have a lesson to teach," The words were curt, no banter within them. No mischief or mirth. The steel grey eyes of Seth met with the brown eyes of his opponent, long since losing their luster of life. His rival sneered at the Lavinian who stood at the end of the bubble, waiting for the chance. He taunted Seth, daring him to step forth to his doom. The obsidian rain continued across the battlefield, scorching the earth as effectively as Revan’s charred wasteland.

The young mage looked upon the Lavinian Demon, which was covered in blood, both his and her father's, and she could tell how he earned that title. When he fought, when he gave into the blood lust inside him, he was truly like her father was now. He hid it, he tried to bury it within him, but she could see easily through the facade he passed in front of the world. He relished such fights, and he grew to covet them. This is why he hid from the world, and why the world feared him.

The weak always feared the strong, especially when the strong abused its might over the weak.

"Are you going to do it or not?" Seth snapped, even when Karel had climbed to his feet, using his sword as a makeshift crutch. The Saint looked at Seth and felt a cold shiver race down his spine. The darkness he had once felt within Seth had wholly consumed the man, fueled by hatred and loathing he thought impossible to recreate.

Lorelai looked upon the Lavinian Demon before her. This man was far from the Seth Dahlios who had joked with her on the boat. Different form the man who had given her the letter and spoke of her father as a colleague. This Seth was even different from the man who had nearly sacrificed himself on her behalf, rescuing her from the hellhounds, and later by giving her time to reach the ship.

But he had been no different then, and even with the small bits of battle, she knew Seth had tried to save Letho, rather than kill him. Lorelai didn't know if the Lavinian Demon was truly out for another kill or not, but she had made up her mind. Slamming the staff into the ground she felt beads of sweat drip down her face as she exerted her will upon the small bubble, and it pulsed out.

The Lavinian Demon was off in its growing wake almost instantly.

Letho roared in challenge as the two fought, Seth using every dirty trick in the book, even as the man sent volley after volley of dark energy at the thief. The thief fought with reckless abandon even as he brought a boot around in a kick that sent the Marshall stumbling back a step, no more, but a start. With a backhanded gesture, the Lavinian was sent flying, only to trail a hand across the ground and land on his feet, before racing back at the man.

"I should have killed you quickly, you're like a weed in a field Dahlios," Letho growled as he shot another bolt of dark energy at the thief. He caught Seth dead on, and yet the thief persisted, even as his clothing was torn from his body and burnt. Rivers of crimson blood ran down his chest, even as he fought on. By all rights the Lavinian should have been dead on his feet.

It was this maneuver that caught the larger man off guard. The momentum of the thief had not stopped one bit, and the Marshall was unprepared for the attack. In pure instinct, the old warrior lashed out at the Thief extraordinaire, only to have Seth crouch under the blow, and bring his shoulder up into his chest. The force of the blow sent Letho reeling as he stumbled back a few steps. Seth eyed his old friend before he hissed, “You won’t touch a hair on her head while I live Ravenheart. Better get used to disappointment, ‘cause life is passing you by!”

Grey energy arced about the thief as he brought his daggers forward in a flurry. The energy crackled along the blade, arcing between them, before Seth cut deeply into the Marshall. Succeeding on the strike he called forth, “Come on Raven, even I am not stupid enough to think I could take this lug down solo! Get your head in the fight!”

[Zantetsuken]

Karel lurched over, holding his stomach as blood poured out of his mouth, his face turning a sickly pale white. He fell back down to his knees, hunching over heaving as he tried to keep his vision clear. The words Seth spoke were tools for motivating them, but unlike the Lavinian demon, Karel did not have some reserve of power to ignore pain. He wasn't twisted to madness like Letho either. No, he was a mortal, and despite being the Saint of Swords he still bleeds red blood and still feels pain like any other man.

He stabbed another sword into the ground, slowly erecting himself upwards as he stumbled forward. He looked over to Seth, who slammed a orb of grey energy into Letho making the Marshall slow to a crawl. His eyes lighted up with frustration and rage, and his lips howled his anguish as he looked to Seth with the grin of a madman.

"Did you honestly think to manipulate the magicks of time against me?!?" Letho's tone was harsh, his implications were similar to as if Seth just cut himself across the wrists in suicide. As Seth's fist flew forward Letho's body blurred and reappeared next to his right, where a powerful hand gripped Seth's wrist twisting downwards. He lifted his hand upwards and chopped Seth in the chest, making him slam into the ground creating a dent and sending tiny fissures across the plains.

His burning eyes turned to Karel, a look of pure disgust on his face as he stalked over to the Saint of Swords. "Pitiful, Karel." Letho was a mere four paces away, keeping himself within striking distance as if to taunt Karel to strike, but the Sword Saint had no energy to even lift his blade.

"I know you are, old friend." Karel replied, his eyes glaring daggers into his best friend's soul. Letho only grinned in reply, cocking his head to the side.

"The power that flows through me is very potent indeed. In fact I could heal those wounds upon your body." Karel looked to Letho, and felt his ire rise at the implied insult. "Drop to your knees in supplication, Karel. Beg me for life or choose death."

Those words were all Karel needed to hear.

Karel's blood boiled as rage fueled his body now, the sword planted deep within the ground dragged upwards as it was freed, sending shards of debris into Letho's face. The Marshall growled in irritation, throwing a closed fist towards Karel as he closed the gap. He found his swing wide and Karel had easily dodged underneath it, his sword and body lifting up as he jumped upon Letho's shoulders in a deft move of acrobatics.

Punch after punch hit Letho in the jaw, causing him to stagger backwards as he couldn't get enough of a break to do anything about the sudden vicious assault. Three knuckles collided, then the hilt of the Serra Karla Raven, followed by four knuckles. Blood dripped down Letho's chest, a mixture of both Karel's and Letho's as he let loose into his old friend.

"How dare you!" Karel cried. "How dare you soil the foundations of our brotherhood! How dare you spit upon the friendship we have!" Each word was intenisfied as he slammed fist and hilt into the Savion's face, his rage blinding him as tears swelled into his eyes. "I'll kill you monster! I'll rip out your heart and tear you to shreds with my blades! I'll beat the possession right of my friend and rip whatever darkness has clung to his heart away!"

Letho continued to fall backwards, his eyes darting around as he watched the Saint of Swords turn into a raving brawler. By either stroke of luck or pure panic Letho was able to retreive a measure of control as he lifted his hands up grabbing Karel by his hips. He pushed with all his might, lifting Karel up into the air and then he slammed him down before him right onto his back.

Karel groaned in pain, unable to produce a larger cry of anguish as the air was sweapt out of his lungs. He struggled to catch his breath, but the boot of Letho slammed into his stomach right in his wound out of spite and hate as he ground his heel in the bloody mess. "I already told you!" Letho summoned all his hatred into his words. "That man is dead now!" He lifted his boot up, and was about to stomp it again when a body flew forward tackling the Marshall off of Karel.

Seth growled like predatory beast as he lashed into Letho, a hand to hand fight ensuing in the short room they had. The bodies moved as an extension of their will, but it was Letho who got the upper hand, slamming into Seth's gut with a hard knee and grabbing Seth by his shirt. He lifted him up and rotated to add momentum to his wild swing as he tossed Seth away from him with a snort of effort.

As Seth's body flew away another body flew under him, wobbly and weak as it staggered quickly along the ground. Letho was still regaining his balance, laughing at the destruction he was sowing and his eyes focused upon Lorelei as she ran forward, her barrier getting smaller and smaller as the spears rained down upon her shield. He let out a mighty backhand, but it was far to late as her body collided into his, knocking the bigger man to the ground on his side.

"Insolent wretch!" Letho spat as he rose back upwards, preparing to rip his daughter's head off as he slowly got to his feet to attack. He leapt forward, his hands open wide as he prepared to grapple her, when suddenly a circle of glowing blades surrounded her body. Letho realized he was far to late to change the strands of fate and his body landed upon one of the blades. He felt his body swirl in a circle and he went for the ride of his life, his eyes never leaving Karel's.

With a howl of defiance he slammed his fist into the air, changing the strands of time to allow him breathing room to escape. When he reappeared he felt a pair of boots hit him square in the back, the Lavinian rogue grunting behind him. He stumbled forward into a roll, coming up just before the rotating blades. A powerful hand gripped Letho by the neck, and the blades dispersed as a clatter hit the ground next to Karel. Another hand grabbed the amulet and tossed it aside like a mere trinket.

Without a word or witty comment Karel unceremoniously looked upon his old friend in disgust and closed his eyes in disappointment; the same way Letho had looked upon Karel the day he turned his back on Letho during their time on Black Isle. Without even a chance for Letho to retaliate he tossed his oldest, best friend to his left off the cliff of the surrounding area.

[Letho]

It should’ve been over. The combined might and persistence of all three should’ve been enough to end the madman’s life right then and there. But even when Letho’s body disappeared beyond the ledge of the cliff the diabolical portal above their heads remained, showering them with salvo after salvo of black spears. They kept sapping the energy out of the girl, every impact adding burden to her shoulders until she finally crumbled to her knees and her magical dome started to give way to the darkness. She couldn’t stand anymore, couldn’t even gather enough strength to open her eyes and assess the situation. Cold sweat drops came down her forehead and the length of her back, eliciting a shiver from her overstrained muscles, and all she could do is hold on to what little energy she had and pray for clear skies.

Only her prayers weren’t answered.

Rising above the edge of the precipice, his dark magic steadily levitating his body until he was in full view, Letho Ravenheart defied both gravity and death to reenter the fray. Darkness enveloped his floating figure once again, the black flame tongues lashing out like cobras all around him as he stepped back onto the plateau. And his eyes, once brown and weary, again burned with infernal hate. No more words were spoken, no taunts or threats passed between him and his old acquaintances. Lifting both of his hands in the air, Letho made it clear that he was about to bring down the sky upon them and squash them like the vermin they were.

“Destroy it!” Lorelei tried to shout, but the barrage from above drained her so much that her voice was little more than a broken whisper. Her hands clutched to her staff as tight as they could, her knuckles white with desperation. She didn’t have to open her eyes; she felt the corrupted jewel as if it was a wound in the fabric of magic, a black hole that sucked everything in. It was unsurprising that Seth was the closest to it. After all, darkness was always drawn to darkness. “The amulet! Seth, destroy it!”

By the time Letho heard her words and acknowledged their dismal meaning, it was already too late. Seth Dahlios stood above it with a sadistic grin, bringing his foot down on the discarded jewel. And before Letho managed to summon enough power to stop time again and recover his precious toy, the amulet was struck against the stone below, cracking from the initial blow. But even a crack was enough to make the fallen hero roar as the link between him and the amulet was being severed. He could feel the energy being torn from him as the enchantment started to lose its power; it was like standing in the middle of a tsunami and feeling it tearing your flesh away one piece at a time.

“NO! YOU... DON’T YOU DARE!!!” the corrupted Marshal bellowed, his hands reaching towards the jewel trapped underfoot. He tried to make a move towards Seth, but his magicks were no longer potent enough to grant him superhuman speed. All he could do was watch in dismay and Seth twisted his foot, applying more and more pressure to the chipped ruby. The flaming black aura round Letho diminished, the flames retracting from the warrior and returning to the amulet. Fighting like a living, sentient thing, the enchanted precious stone drew back on all the facets of its magic, closing the portal overhead and sucking in every single obsidian spear that was caught in between the sky and earth. The stream of magical energy was so powerful that it made the ground below tremor and crack, and the air around them buzzed like a charged lighting rod.

And then, when it finally retrieved every bit of magic it expelled upon the world, and when there was no more darkness surrounding them, and when Lorelei’s dome shone like the second sun, there was one single second of silence. And in that second of silence the daughter of the famous Letho Ravenheart opened her eyes, lavished in the tranquility of this moment, finally free of the pressure that kept pushing her down. And when she looked across the battlefield, she could finally see her father. Freed of the vile grasp of the amulet, released from the black cage that kept him trapped in the hell of his own design, the man that stood before the chasm let go of the madness that had consumed him long time ago. There was no more lunacy on his face, no misdirected wrath, no hatred towards the world around him. There was only weariness. And peace.

And then the second was up.

Like an offset of a supernova, the amulet exploded, blasting the world with temporary darkness. The concentric shock wave sent both Karel and Seth flying backwards, but Lorelei’s protection circle held against it, allowing the girl to see Letho pushed back over the precipice once again. And it was Letho who was propelled by the dark blast, she was sure of it. Even though she had never met her father prior to today, even though she never knew what his face looked like prior to the rage that overtook him, somehow she knew that the malice was drawn from him like poison from the wound. That was why, when the darkness passed and the sun fired its rays over the aftermath of the battle, she dashed towards the ledge.

“Father!” she shouted, casting her staff away and nearly stumbling over the hem of her robes. When she skidded on her hands and knees and peered over the rocky shelf, she found a tranquil set of brown eyes looking up at her from below. Letho hung from the cliff face, one hand holding to some auspicious crack in the stone, but it was pure instinct that saved him from falling. “Come on, grab my hand,” his daughter insisted, but regardless of how much he wanted to touch her, to hold her, to be at her side after all those years, he made no move to grab her pale hand. And even when she lowered herself dangerously over the ledge in order to grab one of his gauntlets, all he did was look at her with those lethargic brown eyes.

“Let me go,” he told her in a calm voice, his weight slowly pulling her down as she lost footing on the crumbling stone. “Let me go to her.”

“No!” she exclaimed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, tears of strain and tears of sorrow. “I’m not losing you! Not now.” But he was so heavy and she was so weak, so frail, so drained from the battle. “You owe me, father,” she barely managed to push through her clenched teeth as she struggled with his weight, and then added what was probably the reason for all of this, for her departure from her home and arrival here on Tempus Island. “I... I need you.”

It wasn’t the words that changed his mind. It wasn’t even the look on her eyes, that strange mixture of trepidation and determination that could break hearts. It was a tear that slipped from her eye and onto his cheek, the first warm thing he felt in years. But fate, it was a cruel mistress. Because even as his mind was changed and his hand reached for support, the rock for which he held cracked and got loose, starting them both on a downwards path to death.

[Dissinger]

Seth lay prone on the ground, feeling tired beyond expectations. His shirt and vest were tattered wrecks of their former glory; blood poured from his open wounds, and it was all he could do to stay conscious. His eyes looked forward at the scene, the revelation that Letho Ravenheart was alive and that he was begging for death. It jerked at the Lavinian's heart, who knew the tone in the once proud Marshal's voice all to well.

It was the voice of one who had given up hope.

Yet still a spark of life was in him, Seth knew it all to well. The Marshal had desired death so wholeheartedly; he had created a monster within himself and sought to destroy the world if only to empty it, and escape the madness that gnawed at his soul. Perhaps it wasn't always that way, perhaps at one time Letho Ravenheart and Seth Dahlios had been separate entities. However, the repercussions of the Savion Prince taking Seth’s demons upon him were evident each day.

A shriek pierced the air, forcing Seth's focus back to the scene before him as he saw Lorelai begin her own descent over the edge of madness. Immediately adrenaline fueled his muscles, muscles that only desired rest. Muscles that had no more to give, and yet the Lavinian's will forced them to move, even as he stumbled forward. His speed was no longer the sure footsteps of the Thief Extraordinaire, but the slovenly steps of a man pushing himself too far.

His muscles burned, and his mind screamed in torment as he pushed himself one last time. His left hand threaded through the loop of one of the last Kunai he had left on the belt, and plucked it with a practiced surety, even now showing once more his fatigue. There was no twirl, only a casual flip as he reversed his grip on the blade. Moving into a slide that would see the thief careen over the edge, he saw Lorelai's arm and grasped it with a surety that was otherworldly. Even as she held onto the large hand of her father, she could feel the Lavinian's tight grip on her wrist.

A cry of anguish pierced the air, even as the kunai stabbed deep. The sounds of a loud pop were lost amongst the screams of the Lavinian, even as the Kunai dug deep into the earth, the jolt of stopping the Marshal and his daughter's fall into death dislodged his healthy shoulder from its place in the socket. Hanging halfway off the edge, Seth Dahlios had spanned the bridge between life and death, placing the weight of both his comrades squarely upon the failing shoulders. Even as he looked down upon them however, bits of the old Seth reared their ugly head, fragments of a forgotten pride, resurfacing as he shouted, "You son of a bitch! Make up your damn mind, I'm not going to be able to save you every time you turn suicidal you lout!"

Lorelai looked up upon the batter frame of the Lavinian, even as the roguish smile, that damnable smile that had been absent in Seth's life spread across his face before he grunted, feeling the deep furrow of his weapon blackened lung popper reach closer to the edge. He had only bought them time, and not truly saved them. Still it was Seth fulfilling his deepest vow, and even though he had long since lost the list of rules he managed, "Seth's seventh rule of success...."

Lorelai looked upon him as if he had gone mad, even as a morbid chuckle escaped his lips.

"...the difference between genius and insanity is the degree of success..." He continued before he looked up on the ledge of the cliff. Hanging from the side of a cliff he steadied himself taking a big breath, before he clutched the gift of the magi. Immediately it felt like his body was awash in flames. He had no idea just how much pain he had put himself in, before it all assailed him at once. However, even through the pain he remained focused on holding onto Lorelai's arm as he looked over at his arm. They were pulled slightly up as he felt his shoulder pop back into place. A cry of pain escaped his lips, yet he still held strong, even as his grip tightened.

Finally he looked over at the downed form of Karel before he shouted, "God damnit Karel, don't you dare pass out on me! I will kick your ass if you force me to do this by myself!"

[Zantetsuken]

Karel felt the world spinning behind his closed eyes. Every bone in his body ached and he couldn't fathom how he was still standing. He heard words coming from the cliff, and he felt a wave of wind pass him twice as shouts and screams filled his ears. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down as the wound from the spear still drained his life essence one bloody drop at a time. His coat and shirt were stained in a dark red, and his fists were swollen from the direct punches to Letho's face.

He could visualize the candle in his soul fading, and slowly, the more he tried to concentrate, the more that flame started to dwindle. He felt his knees give out, and his body toppled forwards unable to hold himself anymore. He slammed into the dirt, kicking up ashes from the fires that were still raging around. He took one last shuddering breath before his body gave out.

"No Karel!" Seth shouted. "Damn the gods, Karel! Get up! GET UP!" The Lavinian shouted at the top of his lungs. "Don't you dare! Come on, get up!"

"Please! I can't hold on much longer!" The timid cry of Lorelei entered Karel's daze, and he grunted, weazing and coughing up smokey ash that he inhaled. His lungs burned in agony as his heart beat faster than a fleeing deer. His eyes opened a fraction and he carefully rotated his head towards the rogue who was leaning over the cliff edge using one hand to support himself. He tried to concentrate on them, but a glossy fog covered his vision, blurring it as another fit of coughs attacked him.

"I..." Karel tried to speak, but the energy required was to much of a strain. He started to close his eyes again as if the notion would numb the pain.

"Karel, look at me! Look at me!" Seth roared. Karel's eyes woozily opened again, and he looked to the rogue. "You got to help us out. Just a bit more and then you can rest! You can do this, Karel! Fight the pain!" Karel huffed in mirth, the idea that he could save them hilarious considering the thought he may not be able to even move.

"You are the Saint of Swords! You can do this! Please, Karel, help us!" Lorelei cried out. Karel nodded once, starting to crawl, but his body convulsed in agony and he shouted to the heavens his anguish as he curled into a ball, cradling the wound.

"Karel!" Came a stern voice. "Dig deep my friend, you can do this!" Karel's ears perked at the sound, something about the tone familiar to him. "Hurry, Karel!" He recognized that voice. He wasn't sure why or how, but it was definitely something he remembered. He groaned moving over again, using the last of his strength to crawl over.

"H-h-old on..." Karel shivered, his limbs growing cold. "I'm...coming..." He strained as he dragged himself over to Seth.

"No good, he isn't going to make it!" Seth shouted as his finger's began to loosen around the smooth rock. First it was his pinky, then his index finger. He groaned and roared and barked in challenge to keep himself holding the rock, but soon his last two fingers lost their grip. The trio of bodies started to slip and fall, and Seth ground his fingers into the dirt. With a sharp tug on his shoulders he grabbed hold of some tree root and he held for dear life.

"Hold on Seth!" Lorelei cried. Seth grunted his frustrations, but the root didn't take heed to his threats as the branch ripped out of the ground. With nothing to grab hold of his fingers dug tiny trenches into the ground as they slipped off and over the ledge. He yelped in shock as his shoulders once again snapped on him, this time his fingers grabbing hold of another set. The Lavinian Rogue looked up to see Karel's woozy eyes and stupid grin as he used one hand to grab hold of him.

"I should..." Karel said weakly. "Probably tell you I was a bit late getting here..." he laughed lightly. Seth grinned to him, but dropped his glee when Karel's body started to slide forward and over the ledge.

All four of the small group free fell, limbs flailing out. Lorelei screamed at the top of her lungs, Letho let out a loud grunt of alarm. Even Seth shouted curse after curse to the heavens as they fell, but for Karel he didn't seem to mind. He felt at peace with the world as he soared to the ground at a frightening pace.

After a moment of terror Karel lifted from behind his back the Serra Karla Raven and tapped the flat end against Seth's chest. "Light as a feather," he said to him, dropping his legs up and soaring downwards towards Lorelei. Seth's body immediately drifted upwards as if a powerful wind blew upwards, and he gently floated towards the ground like a leaf in the wind.

As Karel reached the daughter of Letho he took the flat end of his blade and tapped her leg. "Light as a feather," He whispered. She swooshed upwards, still screaming bloody murder, but now safe from the deadly drop as she drifted downwards like a feather.

Karel dove forwards towards Letho, who sailed with his back to the world looking towards Karel. The two looked to each other, and the un-seeable bonds of their friendship was emanating from them. But as powerful as their bond was, it wasn't with out tarnish.

"You have done something terrible today, old friend." Karel said in a fatherly manner. "That stubborn nature of yours only seemed to fuel your hatred for not being able to save her, and now look what it did." Letho's eyes narrowed solemnly, knowing full well he deserved Karel's harsh tone. "You set out to save the life of the woman you loved, Letho! But look at what you did!" Karel shouted now, pointing to Lorelei. "You damned near killed off the last few things you loved! You abandoned your daughter, your flesh and blood! And you spat upon our friendship; crushing it beneath your boot as if it was nothing to you!"

"I know," Letho said at last, looking up at Karel with tear brimmed eyes. "I have lost a lot of myself, Karel. I did push out of my heart what I should have brought closer when Myrhianna passed! For all of that there is nothing I can do to make up for it," he closed his eyes as he brought one hand to his chest. "Nothing will take back what I have done," he shouted back to Karel over the whistling of the wind. The trees below started to get larger by the second. "The only thing I can do is just die to atone for all the damage I have done..."

Letho felt a cold hand touch his. The grip wasn't to stop him from falling, it was more than that. There was a warmth in that touch that made Letho open his eyes. Before him wasn't the blessed Saint of Swords, nor the goofy sword wanderer searching for magical swords in the mountains. It wasn't the man who covered his back in the Arena where they played in the all star game with a group of half wits. His eyes looked upon the eyes of his brother, his comrade, his friend.

"The darkness cannot have you yet," Karel stated flatly in determination. "The road is long and arduous, and we'll stand and fight together from now on." Karel brought him closer, using all his might to do so embracing him. Letho gripped the hand back tightly embracing him looking to see Lorelei off in the distance, her face still streaked with tears.

"You were always a stubborn fool," Letho said to Karel, but he had no hint of hostility in his tone. "I don't know if I can make this right again, old friend." Karel looked to Letho solemnly before breaking the hold.

"All any of us ask is that you try." Karel took the hilt of his sword and slammed it into Letho's gut hard, knocking the wind out of him so he couldn't retort. "LIGHT AS A FEATHER!" And up Letho went like a bird in the wind, slowly drifting back down to earth.

Karel felt his heart warm at having his friend back, but he couldn't stop wondering just what was left in that fragile shell knowing that the travesty of the past events would mean things could never go back to being normal. When he landed on the ground he would make efforts to help his friend back to his feet and begin treading upon the righteous path again. That was his promise to the bond of brotherhood they had.

"KAREL!" at long last Seth, Lorelei's and even Letho's voice rang in his ears, and he turned to see they were far above him, much, much farther.

Karel shifted his sword around his hands. "Ah, yes I suppose there is that now isn't there." he tapped himself on the chest, "Light as a feather." And up he soared to begin his slow leisurely free fall back to the earth. He looked past the rest of his friend's right into Letho's own eyes, and he lowered his gaze to match his friend's.

I promise you, old friend. I'll do whatever it takes to bring back the righteousness in your heart.

[Letho]

The walk back to the rowboat was arduous to say the least. The quartet dragged along at a crawling pace, fighting an altogether different battle than the one they brought to a close moments ago. This time around their enemies were the bleeding wounds and the throbbing bruises and all the aching muscles that seemed just about ready to throw in the towel and call it a day. The weather didn’t treat them kindly either. As soon as they fixed themselves up as much as they could (Letho stubbornly refusing any kind of treatment) and got their trek on the way, the sun ducked behind some heavy clouds blown in by the zephyr, setting the stage up for a tropical downpour. Karel tried to make a quip about it, some lighthearted comment how he preferred this type of rain over the black one from moments before, but his joke got lost in the midst of all the muffled groans and heavy thoughts.

Seth led the way through the dripping fern leaves and moss-covered gnarly trees, hacking away with his daggers to make a path for the rest. Of the miserable four, he seemed like the only one who could still go a round or two against the monster thanks to his healing magic, but even his cryptic eyes couldn’t hide the tiredness. What was left of Letho Ravenheart followed his longtime rival, his bony hunched figure limping and stumbling every time his foot would caught a root or a stringy weed underfoot. The first couple of times this happened Lorelei jumped to his aid, but after he kept pushing her away, kept insisting that he was fine in that raspy voice of a lung cancer patient, she kept her distance. Her eyes seldom left her father, though, half fearing that he would revert to the beast from before and half pitying his decrepit state. This... thing that walked ahead of her wasn’t the famous Marshal Ravenheart from the fables, and the closer they got to the shore, the more she started to doubt that he could ever be that man again. At the end of the weary procession trudged Karel Raven, leaning heavily on his sheathed sword every other step, using his other hand to put some pressure on his sloppily bandaged wounds. The Saint of Swords looked anything but exalted by now, what with his perforated torso, his tarnished clothes and his everlasting smile lost in anguish.

Needless to say, once the clutter of the jungle started to make way for the sandy shore, the relief amongst them came in a form of a collective sigh. Finally the nightmare had reached its conclusion.

***

With some food in his stomach (he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had a hearty meal), fresh clothes on his back and the corrupt amulet destroyed, Letho wished he could say that he felt like a new man, but that wasn’t the case. The wounds were too deep, festered for so long that their poison destroyed him from the inside, and the righteous heart that once had beaten in his chest was filled with all the mischief he had caused on his quest for Myrhia’s salvation. But it wasn’t the realization of the wrongness of his deeds that weighed heavily on his shoulders; no, he was fully aware of their wrongness while committing them. It was rather their reflection that he could see in the disappointed looks of those around him. Lorelei’s were the hardest ones to bear, the sweetly kind ones stuck in the region of obfuscation, somewhere between love for her father and anger towards what he had become.

Standing on the main deck of The Wicked Wench with his back against the mainmast, he feared the footsteps behind him belonged to his daughter. But when he turned around, it was an altogether different figure that stepped out of the darkness, that of Seth Dahlios who seemed to have as much trouble sleeping as Letho did. Above them, the sky offered all of its nightly splendor, with a myriad of stars desperately competing with the silver magnificence of the crescent moon. The wind that blew in the rainy clouds was still there, but now it chased those same clouds farther down the horizon, leaving blissful freshness in its wake and filling their sails with its gentle touch.

For several seconds the pair of over-the-hill opponents just stood silently, enjoying the reprieve that the night brought. But the nagging voice in Letho’s mind soon forced the man to give voice to the question that has been bothering him ever since he saw Seth arrive to Tempus Island.

“How do you do it, Dahlios?” he asked, his voice an unwelcome intruder in the calmness of the night. “How can you bear the burden of your misdeeds?”

Leaning on the wooden bulwark and gazing into the black sea that surrounded them on all side, Seth took several seconds to formulate an answer. For a moment Letho thought that the thief didn’t plan to respond, that he got lost in whatever memories got recalled to the forefront of his mind, but after a sigh an answer came: “I died in Revan for my misdeeds, remember? And now I’m here, so you tell me how well that worked out.”

“I should have died back on that precipice,” Letho said. “I would be with her right now.”

Even though Seth still had his back to him, Letho was rather certain there was now a grin on the thief’s face now. He knew the Lavinian too well. “That’s what I thought too years ago. I’d finally see my parents, finally be able to say I’m sorry, finally right every wrong I’ve done.” When he turned around, the grin faded and the rogue only shook his head. “I never saw them once and I was barred from the afterlife because of what I’ve done.”

“I still need to go there, Dahlios. I have to free her. Her screams... They never stop. I hear them every time I close my eyes.” Though his face failed to portray his fury, the clenched fists at his sides did that all too well. “There’s no heaven or hell, the necromancers knew that much. The afterlife doesn’t deal in absolutes. But there is a dark place, a terrible pit filled with suffering and agony. And Myrhianna is trapped there.”

Another silence ensued, the flapping sails and the sea sloshing against the hull the only sounds in the night. Seth’s calculated eyes observed Letho’s, acknowledged the fury in them, but not the defiled kind from before. And that seemed to reassuring enough. “Then I’ll go with you. There’s one place I can think of that might know more of the situation than the necromancers or the clerics. If only because they catalogue magic for their petty selfish whims.”

“Sounds like that Hex magic of yours,” Letho responded. “I had looked into that as well. But Hex mages are few and far between and usually not very talkative.”

“You just have to find the rock they crawled under. They're off the coast of Revan, and I can take you to them, but if you follow me into hell, you do things my way! I won't let you fall back into what happened today, just like I'm sure you don't want me to fall back into depravity.” Seth’s voice was stringent, a voice of a father reprimanding his child for a repeated offense. But Letho wasn’t offended by it, could ill afford to be since Seth seemed like his only chance of saving Myrhia.

“Very well, Dahlios. You have my word. You lead and I shall follow.”

Seth seemed content with both the words and the tone with which they were spoken, ultimately nodding his head ever so slightly. “Then I suggest we drop your daughter off in Lavinya before we proceed. She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”

“Will she be safe there?”

“Liliana will keep her safe,” Seth assured him. “My daughter is there as well, and occasionally Sarah comes through with Kid. There should be no problems with her safety.”

The old, goody-goody two-shoes, Mr. by-the-book Letho Ravenheart probably would’ve asked about Liliana, asked what was their daughter’s name and how old was she, maybe even wondered how Sarah’s faring with that freaky adopted child of her. The current bland copy that stood in his place simply said: “Good,” and then after a bit of consideration, “I am surprised, Dahlios. I cannot say I expected to see you coming to my rescue.”

Seth chuckled, but it wasn’t a very heartily chuckle. After all that had transpired even the black humor felt vapid. “I almost didn’t come. Liliana told me to and you know how insistent she can be at times.”

“Oh, I think I know the type,” was all that Letho said.

He tried to remember Myrhia, tried to pull out some recollection of the frail little redhead who butted heads with him in such an endearing way for times beyond count. But all he could see was her cold corpse and her dead eyes gazing through him, and all he could hear was her cry that somehow transcended the physical boundaries to rise from beyond the grave and echo in his mind. And Letho knew that there were two ways this could finish: he would put a stop to her suffering or he would join her for eternity.

((SPOILS: Magic Devourer: Being violently torn from magic after channeling vast amounts of it over the years of his madness, Letho’s body became a wound in the fabric of magical energy. All types of magic (be it conjuration, evocation, illusion, enchantment or manipulation) cease to exist in his close proximity (a three foot radius). This includes positive effects of magic as well, so Letho cannot be healed or aided by magical means, but excludes his ability to transform as it is derived from his blood and not magic. For quest purposes this is a constant effect, but for battles he can summon it for three minutes before he susceptible to magic attacks again.

Also, Letho ages 13 years.

[Zantetsuken]

Karel let out a long sigh of relief as he sat upon his bed. His mind was slowly getting back to spinning at a normal rate and he was happy his heart was no longer pounding in his ears. He looked out his tiny window to the gentle waves of the ocean and felt his body resonate with the waves. Growing up on an island had allowed Karel to seek comfort in the ocean around him, and he was grateful to at last be back on a boat.

A soft rapping sound echoed from his door, and he grazed open one eye to look at the source of the noise. “Come on in, door’s unlocked.” He watched as the wooden portal opened only a smidge and the tiny shape of Lorelei softly scooted inwards. She gently shut the door and turned to Karel with a soft polite smile, but her eyes were full of questions. “What can I do for you, Miss Ravenheart?” he said lightly as he swung his feet to the side of the bed and sat upright.

She looked around his room with mild curiosity before she looked back to him with a gentle smile. “Oh, it’s really nothing.” She said in her usual timid voice. Karel shrugged and lifted his feet back up and went back to a reclining position, wincing in pain as he did so. His stomach wound had yet to heal properly.

“If it’s nothing than you’ll forgive me for resting.” she gave him a smart look, but a soft chuckle escaped her lips. This made Karel smile as he saw her joviality and he motioned for her to sit at the chair where his desk was located. She took the proffered seat and sat with her legs stuck together. “what’s on your mind, little one?” Karel said in a half whisper.

She at first didn’t respond to him, fidgeting with her fingers and toes before she looked right into his hazel eyes and spoke from the heart. “I’m terrified.” Karel looked to her and shook his head in confusion. “I have spent a long time looking for the man who is my father…and…and…” she bit her lip and looked to the window for support.

“You found something you didn’t expect.” Karel finished for her, sitting back up. He gently ran a fatherly hand down the side of her knee as he rested his elbows on his legs. “I’m going to be honest when nobody was prepared for what we saw yesterday. That beast we met wasn’t the Letho I knew. That was some abomination and good riddance that it’s gone.” Lorelei piped up touching Karel’s shoulder.

“That’s the thing! He’s still so…somebre and cold. It’s like that creature succeeded in doing what nobody else could. He he…” She shut her eyes drawing in a big breath. “He killed my father!” Karel watched her gaze as he slowly stood up. He walked over to her and opened one of the drawers to his desk.

“A long time ago your father and I did something truly amazing, Lorelei.” Karel’s tone was soft as he welcomed back the memories. Lorelei sniffled as she looked up to the sword saint. “We both climbed a tall mountain in the Scara Brae region, fighting the bitterness of winter. Taking on bandits. The two of us who had never met before stumbled upon something magical back in those times.” Karel looked down to her and tapped her on the nose, making her flinch back and smile at him. “Two dumb wandering adventurers stumbled upon a friendship. Something that not many people can say they have.”

“Didn’t you on the island renounce your friendship? I mean, he tried to kill you!” Karel let out a snort of mirth.

“Ya, that was some good times.” Karel mused. Lorelei hit him playfully making him laugh softly. “You are correct. We both said and did some terrible things to each other. But the thing about time is that with enough of it, time can heal all wounds. That raggedy old fool you call father has been through to much with me to be dead, Lorelei. Trust me on that.”

“But how can you be sure he’ll be okay? What if…what if he returns to that evil presence again.” Karel eyed her carefully. He looked at her teary eyes and he knelt down by her side and held her hand.

“What’s really bothering you, child?” Karel looked to her as he talked in a dead serious tone, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m…I’m….” She closed her eyes again. “I’m scarred that I won’t be able to be with my father. I think he’s lost to much and we won’t be able to retrieve what he’s lost. I’m worried that all I found was a shell of a man.” she bit her lip.

“Lorelei…” Karel soothed her gently. “If you don’t say it, you won’t be able to get past it.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. She shuddered as she continued to cry, before she leaned into Karel’s shoulder as she let her emotions weigh her down.

“I’m afraid he won’t love me.” She finally admitted. Karel consoled her as he ran his hand up and down her back, letting her cry into his shirt. After she slowly calmed down he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back softly.

“Letho is your father. Of course he loves you.” he gave her a small handkerchief from his desk. She took it and blew her nose gently wiping away her years. “The big lug has ostracized himself for a long time. He didn’t know how to cope with the lose of the woman he loved for so long. It’s not easy to lose those you love, Lorelei. I lost my mother and sister in the same fire when I was a teenager. But do you know what was able to pick me up off my feet?” She shook her head as she looked to him, tears brimming her face. “Love.” Karel said flatly. “If it wasn’t for the love my father and my house servants gave me I wouldn’t have been able to cope. But they all showed me love, because I had forgotten how to.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” she stammered. Karel just gave her a soft smile and a wink.

“Your father is stubborn. But if you constantly show him what love is, he’ll love you back.” Karel rose to his feet, and patted his stomach gently. “Now come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Lorelei laughed at his awkwardness, and stood hugging Karel tightly.

“Thank you, Karel.” Karel just gave her a kiss on the head and patted her on the back as he pushed her to the door. She opened it and walked out, shutting the door gently behind her, but not before giving him one last smile.

“You idiot, Letho.” Karel murmured to himself as he gathered his things to eat. “You had love this entire time and yet you tossed it all away for love you lost. Well, the road to redemption is long and perilous. But this time, old friend, I will watch your back as you take the steps on your journey.”

With that he walked out into the hall, taking the first step on his adventure with his closest friend just like the old days.

[Dissinger]

Seth stood on the docks as the cry of "land-ho" resounded over the ship. He never took his gaze from the coastline, all too familiar to the one time wanderer. It made his heart skip a beat, when out of the morning mists he saw the coastlines. His heart seemed to increase in beating before he let out a soft snort of derision. Even in old age he was getting sentimental, it was a bad thing in his opinion. He missed the old days where he was just the brash cocky know it all from Lavinya.

That too, was a sign of age.

The boat made its way along the coast, even as the City of Traitors began to loom on the horizon. At first a mere speck of brightness loomed on the horizon, before it turned into the faint outlines of a bustling port. Not that Seth cared much about the city; it was just another stop on his way home. The city itself had a bit of a reputation for disappearing people. It was part of the reason he rarely left Lavinya anymore, he just didn’t want to deal with the cutthroats out here. How long had it been since he had left? He wasn't even sure anymore.

Perhaps his fading memory was a sign of age as well...

Standing on the deck, bag over his shoulder, he thought about the journey that had brought him back here. He had returned with Letho, and his daughter. That lone was a bit of a disturbing echo of his death. The last time Letho and a red head had been with him in Reven, he had died. Atop this, he had promised to re-enter a world that he loathed with ferocity unmatched by the ages. There were few things that raised the bile from the back of his throat, but there it was garish and ugly.

He wondered if this was only another sign of his age...

When the boat finally hit the docks, he shouldered his pack with finality and stepped off, before waiting for the other two to show up. People filed off the boat slowly, some making their way to loved ones, others moving on to seek accommodations. Some would never see the light of day again; others would be sold into slavery. It was the unfortunate truth of the port. With luck they could be out of the area, and halfway to Lavinya before nightfall. Still, even as he looked up at the clear blue sky he couldn't help but sigh, before raising the hood on his cloak higher, so as to cover his features.

He had finally come to the conclusion he was afraid to say;

"I'm getting too old for this shit..."

[Taskmienster]

Carry On My Wayward Son :: Since this takes place in the future, and bunnying has been approved ahead of time, I’m not going to worry about powergaming and stuff.


Continuity 7

Setting 5

Hello, hello, hello…

I think we lost this after the first part, which said it was an island. Furthermore, I got that all in all the sun rose quickly at one point, instead of like normal. It was humid, or normal, or maybe somewhere between there.

Pacing 5.5

It seems that at times the pacing was spurred forward well, and was flowing well enough that I wanted to just stick to it and keep reading. At other times, such as the second page when you were talking about your past loves and then the letters, the pacing nearly slowed to a stop.

Dialogue 5.5

Sometimes the dialogue felt right; sometimes it felt like it was too much during fighting as well as childish, other times the dialogue felt like it was just the writer speaking something that wasn’t what the character would have said.

Action 6

Not much to say, it was well done but not overly so.

Persona 8

Unlike your setting, your persona was expressed extremely well. Though, it wasn’t done well with action and dialogue, which normally helps, but in general it was good.

Technique 6.5

Sometimes the advanced technique that was used was somewhat strange and out of place, like using metaphors that would be made in the modern world in writing that for the most part was absent of any modern phrases and narrative.

Mechanics 7

There were a couple mistakes, almost every post, including spelling or messed up word choice as well as comma usage. Also, there were tense changes that (PAT!) you all should have caught easily enough.

Clarity 6.5

Wild Card 6

Score: 63


Rewards:

Letho: 3611 exp | 277 gold

Dissinger: 3756 exp | 277 gold

Zantetsuken: 1669 exp | 277 gold

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added!

Zantetsuken is now level 3!