Progenies Immortalis (Closed)

[The Black Waltz Project]

A soft hum filled the air as the fan rumbled into life blowing a gentle breeze over the open space. A chorus of cries awed at once as every person relaxed in their chair a bit easier.

Turning to face them at the front of the classroom was a tall man with short spiked hair wearing a professors jacket that ran all the way up to his chin. It was skin tight except the top where it fanned out at his neck, his pants a jet black of fine silken quality. They lapped over dusty black books, which set a different tone to the professional appearance of his demeanor. He carried an air of authority, but a gentleness saw through it and the classroom looked to their teacher with a respectful eye.

"Glad we worked out that problem," he joked smiling to them all. "Greetings one and all, I am professor Wilfred Waltz and you are all taking advanced magic and applied sciences. If this seems a bit wrong to you than maybe now would be a good time to get up and walk out."

A hand rose up. He motioned to the sheepish young girl in the seat. "This isn't the one o one class?" she felt the class looking down upon her. Wilfred was pleased to note nobody made grief of her embarrassing situation.

"No child, this is not the introductory class. That begins with Professor Harvard at four o'clock. I am sorry for wasting your time." She gathered her bags quickly and excused herself. After the scene cleared he looked to the other students.

"So how many of you actually remember anything from their introductory class?" He asked looking to each one just above their eyes. A few raised their hands. Unsurprisingly they were all in the front row. He lifted his hand in a motion for them all to stand.

"Back row, please stand up and escort yourselves to the front." He looked back tot he confused students in the front row. "You will go to the back." The students filed around each other, passing by and squeezing where they could fit. As they all settled he looked to his classroom again and smiled.

"Good, glad we fixed this problem. In my classroom I make those who don't wish to be here sit in the front, and those that do sit in the back. My theory is no matter where you sit, if you want to learn you will. But place the bad apples at the top of the pile and they will be discarded quickly."

Wilfred went to his large oak desk and opened a drawer grabbing a stack of papers. He passed them out to the front row, who passed the stack behind them as they received their papers. He took one copy for himself and sat on the stool in front of his dry erase board.

"Okay, you all have seen a syllabus before, sign it and date it, then pass it back up at the end of class. Time to begin the lessons." he lifted over and picked up a large volume of knowledge. "Open your books to page fifteen." The sound of books snapping open for the first time filled his ears as the slick sound of paper slid across each other.

"Can anybody tell me when Magic in this world first began?" A student in the front row raised his hand. Wilfred motioned to him.

"Since time began." he said.

"Exactly," he rose out of his stool and moved to the dry board. He picked up a pen and began writing down dates and times. "Who can tell me the significance of these dates?" It took a moment before someone answered, a back row student with blond hair rose her hand.

"The demon wars began." Wilfred nodded. "This is also about the time mankind began to apply magic in a more forceful way to combat the demons."

"Correct. Many magical arts were refined and perfected during that period of time. It was also when smithing and science became more applied as well to make up for the lack of wizards. Can anyone name an invention of that era?"

"Airships!"

"Steam powered boats."

"Synthesizing!" Answers flooded in and Wilfred nodded to each one.

"Yes, as you can see where Magic starts, science ends. We create an ease for ourselves with magic, then we invent something to do it for us. Hand and hand magic and science walk."

"Yes but isn't magic just that? Magic?" A girl asked. She had red hair that reminded Wilfred of a phoenix's fiery tail of legend. "I mean, science isn't just limited to the creation of things magic can do. It's also advanced us in ways magic cannot. Medicine is just the tip of the ice berg for this."

"You wouldn't be wrong for thinking so. Yes, science is just as inquisitive as magic, more so in today's era of time than in the old days. This class isn't about that however, so please refrain from creating debates. If you wish to argue this with me, join the debate team." The class laughed as she slid back into her seat.

"Alright, let's name something that only applied science has created. Just to make our troublemaker feel vindicated." He mused.

"Uh, war ships?" a student asked in the corner of the front row. Wilfred pointed to him.

"Bingo!" he smiled. "War ships are just science in action. We saw water, we wanted to know what was across said water, so we built rafts. Rafts became boats. Boats eventually met other boats. Trade was created. People had items that other cultures wanted, but had nothing to trade for. So they modified their boats to destroy trade boats. Bigger boats were created to scare of the little ones. War ships were created to sink them all." Wilfred drew a picture of a small line that spiked, then flat lined, before spiking again.

"Each and every time someone creates something somebody feels obligated to do it better. Any examples from history?" The class remained quiet. "Try looking on page thirty." The sound of papers being rummaged through filled the air.

"Holy crap!" Somebody shouted in the back of the class.

"Take it you found the picture of the Machiavelli." Wilfred mused. "Um...you with the pretty red hair, please read the small paragraph aloud for us all." The red head stood up looking to her book.

"The nation of Black Archipeligo had been raided for decades by a group of dark elven pirates from Revan. In order to defend their lands and keep peace, they created a massive battle barge known as the Machiavelli. This was the first and last recorded war ship designated in the 'Titan' class of today's standards in military organization."

"Does anybody here recall what happened to the Machiavelli?" Wilfred inquired. The red head rose her hand.

"Sunk in one hit." The boys in the classroom all gasped in shock. Some cries of disbelief rose up from around her.

"Speculations as well as a few eye witness accounts did state that the Machiavelli was seen defending the Black Archipelago from a raid of thousands of dragons. It was reported that one giant dragon, known as a sky dragon which in modern mythology was twice the length of the Machiavelli, blasted the ship with a powerful blast."

"As if." the blond stated dryly. Wilfred lifted his eyes in challenge. "Well, not to be rude or anything...but...come on. A sky dragon? Those things never existed. They are like tales of Cassandra Remi or the Slayer of the Rot. They just never existed. Stories were told of their times to frighten mankind into behaving. It worked once out of every ten tellings."

"Cassandra Remi has proof of being alive." The red head breathed. "They have inside the Coronian museum of natural history her weapon of choice, the Butcher's Bill."

"Please, don't tell me your going to believe that garbage." The blond rolled her eyes. "I can go dig up a sword, give it to the museum and say, hey this belonged to some guy in history, the last Saint of Swords!" she looked back to her teacher. "Which by the way, I think is bogus crap as well."

"What, the Butcher's Bill or the title Saint of Swords?" The red head looked to Wilfred with dark eyes.

"But proof of those legends do exist. Ebony and Ivory are both daggers that still radiate magic. The legend of Seth Dahlios is very real. How hard is to believe these other legends are real?" The Red head continued on.

"It's as hard for some to swallow the reality of legends as it is for me to believe I just wasted my entire first lesson listening to you two squabble." Wilfred smiled kindly to both. The red head just huffed out in anger as the blond looked to Wilfred apologetically. "Look, before you go I want all of you to listen to one thing:

Legends can come and go. There story will change from multiple tellings, but in the end you have to honestly believe that there was once a time when these things could very well be real. There was a time before Vladimir Sigma created the Knights of Apocalypse Enterprises, before the Temptress strip club down the road, before you all were an afterthought on your father's pre-pubescent knuckles. Some are still very alive today."

"Sure..." The blond said.

"I know they are..." The red head whispered to herself.

"They are alive because we have people like me who are paid a great deal of money to teach you about them in the hopes you kids won't make the same mistakes our ancestors have made."

"I doubt that." The blond chided. "We have evolved from that time period. We have cars, phones, houses that are fully furnished. We have movies and TV. We have everything they never had."

"Don't forget that." Wilfred said darkly. The classroom remained quiet.

"What do you mean?" the blond asked.

"Don't forget that you have everything they didn't. Many, many people died to give you what you have today." Wilfred whispered. "You kids live in a time where the life of mankind isn't up to the gods. Lazarus, Mordechi, Sintyre, Tiamet, Cassandra Remi, Demons and Saints of Swords, golems, hex magi, blood magi, pirates and ruthless kings! You never had to grow up with that."

Wilfred sighed. "You never lived in times where people sacrificed their own flesh and blood to stop mad men in insane rituals. How many of you heard of the Black Golem?"

"The story of how one family gave up their entire lineage so that they could create a golem to stop master humonculi Kycoo?" the red head stated in excited facts.

"Yes," Wilfred stood up. "Those stories may or may not be true, but the sacrifice back then seems to be the same in almost every story. The traitor generals, the destruction of black isle, the eradication of N'Jal. You live in such peaceful times. Imagine if only a fraction of those stories still existed today? What if Seth Dahlios still stalked the shadows?"

"Then you bring a flashlight." Somebody joked. The classroom laughed and Wilfred joined them.

"Enough about this talk. This class is about magic and science, not legends and their stories. Sorry for being side tracked. Has anyone applied yet to the DMV for their magical aptitude test? I'm paid three extra dollars for every student I catch who hasn't yet." The classroom laughed as a few hands jokingly raised in the air.

"Dismissed." He said lightly. The classroom stood and left, but the red head remained. He looked to her and saw she wore a very skimpy mini skirt and a tight shirt tied at the bottom below her breasts. "Next time wear some clothing, please."

"I worship the old times." She said lightly. "I believe the stories are true. I think that people have forgotten to much how easy they really have it."

Wilfred looked to her confusedly. "Excuse me?" he leaned forward as he walked over to her. She stood up and met him half way.

"I think that the old ways need to come back. I know some others who think like I do. I see in your eyes professor how it pains you to see the ignorance of the kids these days." Wilfred lifted his hands, pulled the girls knot out and lowered it over her belly.

"And I think your kind are ignorant to the dangers such times pose. You work at the Temptress with lady Mizami?" She nodded as she moved back to her desk grabbing her books. "Stripping at your age?"

"You can change the topic all you want." she mused. "Why is class cancelled tonight?" Wilfred shrugged.

"I have friends I am visiting. Goodbye." Wilfred said leaving his class and walking out into the world. He could hear the chaos of noise, the horns and the street lights flicked all around him. He sighed as he moved forward, lifting a cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling down the numbers. "Jared, Sarah, Seth...now I hit the green button?" he fiddled with the phone and saw the little receiver jingling on the screen.

He placed the phone to his ear. "What?" a harsh voice said on the other end.

"Manners, Seth. It's Wilfred."

"Oh...sorry you woke me." he took in a deep breath. "What the hell you want anyway?" Wilfred smiled to the world.

"To see you and Liliana. If that's okay that is." Seth groaned and the sound of a woman groaning was barely audible. Seth talked to the woman and then got on the phone.

"She said if this was anyone else I was supposed to castrate them, but since its you she says she would be delighted, bring pumpkin pie. Can you also get some non-store brand Lavinian ale?" He heard a loud slap on the other end. "What? I can have things too!" he shouted. Wilfred moved the phone away from his ear as they argued.

"I'll bring both." Wilfred said happily.

"Ok, seven our time." he mumbled. Before Wilfred could respond the phone disconnected. He placed it back in his pocket and looked to the sky.

He would never admit it, but he did miss the old days.

[KOA]

A black limousine rolled to a stop before a large structure in the center of the Corone market street. A cascade of smaller motorcycles flooded by as two black SUVS rolled behind the lead cars with men and woman dressed in formal black attire. The driver of the limo exited the vehicle and walked sharply in military fashion towards the passenger door on the curb side, opening the door.

A pair of slender legs swiveled out as crimson high heels struck the pavement. Following up the nude hose revealed a short red matching business skirt with a black vlince blouse. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail and hung down her left shoulder as she smiled.

Cameras and microphones began to swarm around her and she waved to each in turn, looking at the civilians on the street happily and shaking hands. Many of the black formal suit wearing members strode up next to her forming a protective ring as she walked up to a podium in front of the building. She looked out to see the masses and the media looking back to her with expectant eyes.

Clearing her throat she began. "Welcome everyone," She said looking to each member of the crowd sincerely. "I thank you all from the bottom of my heart to come join us for the opening of this new establishment. Dozens of other foundations have been created across the globe in Salvar, Fallien, and even projects have taken hold in the roots of the rebuilt Black Archipelago and Lavinya."

"Progress like this can only have been achieved by the generous donations of you, the city. Not to mention the vision of a man who began this company long ago. Vladimir Sigma once said, 'If I can't give it all, I may as well give what I can.' Words like that are scarce to come about these days. Words of peace, of togetherness. His vision to unite this world has slowly been becoming more and more a reality."

"In the same vision of our founder, Knights of Apocalypse Enterprises has continued to prosper through thick and thin to bring about the end times. Times of an end to war, and an end to violence. So it is with great pleasure I present this building behind me. Your new educational and learning arts center."

She stepped away from the podium, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the ribbon holding the doors closed. She turned to the lord of the region, shook his hand, and then continued to smile to the cameras shaking the foreman's hand as well as some counsel committee members.

She smiled and waved, shaking more hands with people on the street as they began to filter into the newly constructed building to see what all the fuss was about. When she reached the limo she found the door open. She sat upon the khaki leather and closed her eyes as the door shut.

"How did I do?" she mused.

A man wearing a fine tailored white suit with snow white hair and piercing golden eyes shifted in his side of the limo raising a glass of wine. "Terrible." he said honestly as he lifted his lips in a cruel grin. "I don't think I ever said 'If I can't give it all, I may as well give what I can.' In fact, I said the exact opposite." He sighed looking up at the building.

"This costs the company a lot of money, Vladimir." She said lifting her hand up to the side of her chair and lifting a can out. With a pop it opened and she lifted the liquid to her lips drinking. After the swig she took a deep cleansing breath. "Profits this year will not make the council happy."

"When in the hell did I ever care about those idiots?" he laughed in mockery of the notion his council was threatening. "I didn't fear the council over one and a half thousand years ago, I sure as hell don't fear it now." he looked to the bottom of his glass. "I don't fear much of anything anymore..."

"That gets me every time you bring it up..." she sighed.

"What?"

"That your immortal..." she whispered excitedly. "The legend of Vladimir Sigma is real, and breaths before me."

"I was never this nice before." he admitted. "You like the legend, you like somehting that no longer is here today."

"I guess even if we live forever we still die in a way." she looked to the window. Vladimir looked at her crossly as he motioned for her to elaborate. She smiled at her employer sweetly.

"Well I just mean," she said struggling for the right words. "You are immortal, yet the old you is no where as close to the current you. The anger, the hate, the resentment died long ago. All that's left is a man who remembers his pain everyday and it focuses him into being a better person. So few are lucky to have such enlightenment."

"I hardly count this as a blessing." Vladimir scoffed at her as he adjusted in his seat to be more relaxed. He ran a hand through his hair. The rest of trip was rather quiet as the two kept to themselves. When the limo screeched to a halt and passed down a garage entrance Vladimir awoke from his thoughts.

Knight of Apocalypse Enterprises was one of the larger buildings in the Corone area. It had three sky scraper buildings with bold faced letters of K. O. A. draped across it, with multiple bridge networks to walk from one building to the next. It was marveled as ostentatious in the world of business, but Vladimir had liked that little insult to his company.

He let Melinda leave first as he followed behind her. They walked along the cement parking structure, a small entourage of body guards walking with them as they reached a small elevator. When they entered the elevator alone and the door shut Melinda let out a huge breath and leaned on Vladimir.

"I am so tired." She blurted. Vladimir pushed her off him.

"Well, don't try to do everything at once. You can't have it all," Vladimir said sagely. "You work as the figurehead of this company, then go out with me to hunt down the touched of Lazarus and Mordechi, and then after all of that you hit a strip club to seduce one of the girls." Vladimir rolled his eyes. "Which by the way, I owe Lady Mizami a great deal of money for."

"I like a private audience..." she whispered.

"Keep your low profile on your sexual life to your own personal money, not mine." he said crossly.

“Well, I wouldn’t go out every night if someone would just ask me out!” She stressed looking into Vladimir’s back. In response all she received was a small ding, two opened elevator doors, and Vladimir walking forwards without her. Sighing Melinda gathered herself and chased after him.

The hallway they were in was adorned with murals of the end times, pictures nearly three thousand years old that Vladimir had carefully had exported from his castle home in the Horogen mountains, the place the original Knights of Apocalypse kept their main fortress. Times had changed in the world, and the story of how Vladimir destroyed his entire old order with his own hands still seemed so epic, yet true when she looked at the last Knight of Apocalypse.

Vladimir pushed open a set of double doors holding the right side for Melinda to squeak through as he grumbled about her immaturity. She smiled as she passed him, patting him on the cheek as she made way for the bar. The room was huge by current standards. It was at least thirty feet long and twenty feet high. It was furnished only with a large leather black couch, a ratty desk, a TV on a small stand, a very well stocked bar area.

The most important piece of the room were the left and right walls that were adorned with dozens of weapons; each one ancient and old. Vladimir pulled a chair out from behind the desk and sat as he began to look over a newspaper on the top of a pile of papers. Melinda wandered to the walls again and gazed at them, thinking of each story he had told her in particular to the owner. All along the wall were different swords, daggers, and a few unique items with a gold plaque underneath each. The plaque held the name of the blade, if it had one, and the warriors name who wielded it.

"You added some swords to your wall." Melinda said walking to the right half of the room gazing upon the walls. "What's Tenacity?" she lifted her finger to touch the blade.

"It belonged to some idiot named Regal Burnswidth. Story of his sword goes that Lazarus the artificer made that his experiment in creating the Masamune. It failed, but he tossed it to Regal's town just to see what could be done with it. Inside is the bound essence of a demon."

Melinda's fingers quickly retracted.

"What of the saber next to it? It's very nice." Vladimir sighed as his eyes began to fog over. Melinda smiled into her cup, taking a sip of her scotch. She loved to hear the stories he told of her of his friend’s and adventures with Karel Raven.

"That saber belonged to probably one of the few men I actually respected in the past, Troy Priam. He and Regal had traveled together when Troy had lost his way. Both of them had covered each other‘s back and what not. Their friendship got each other killed but back in those days the term death was just another word for revolving door. I liked Troy, because he gave Karel no end of grief. We both would sit up for hours mocking Karel, and all the Saint of Swords could do was sit and take it. Great times." Vladimir began looking trough the papers on his desk as the life returned in his eyes. “Anyway, Troy and Regal both served as town guards for a peaceful little town called Irrenes. Far as I know they both died very happy.”

"So why on the Raven's side?" she looked at the massive wall. When she referred to the Raven’s side she meant the two walls. One side was all about Vladimir’s greatest rival and closest friend, Karel Raven and the people he influenced in life. The other side was Vladimir’s side, where he placed his families and those lives he influenced. As each wall was littered in swords both men had influenced a lot of lives, but ninety percent of those lives were never for the best.

Vladimir looked to her with a warning glance that she was beginning to get annoying. She casually shrugged him off, taking another sip looking at the saber in more detail, imagining some noble knight holding it in his hands while some other warrior held the serrated katana behind him, a wild look of battle lust on his face.

“Troy Priam had a sister,” Vladimir smiled despite himself. “Her name was Rebecca, care to guess which Rebecca?” Melinda thought about it for a moment and she recalled the one woman Vladimir talked about as frequently as his beloved wife, Serra.

“Karel’s wife?” She said a little astonished. “Small world. So that makes Troy his brother in law.” Vladimir nodded once. “And your brother as well.”

“I wouldn’t remind Troy of that. He really didn’t like the idea of those two getting together.” Vladimir said off handedly.

“Oh, why’s that Vlad?” Vladimir dropped the paper he was holding and gave her a dead serious look. Sually these looks ended the trip down memory lane, but was always emphasized by one pain that Vladimir or his brother in law Karel had visited upon the world.

“Karel Raven was the man who killed Troy the first time. Used some obscene move to make all of Troy’s blood explode out his veins. In front of Rebecca as well…Karel was always a fool.” Vladimir went back to his papers, lifting them up so Melinda couldn’t’ see his face.

She took another sip of her scotch and let the taste ease it’s way down her chest. She enjoyed the warmth it gave her and she walked over to Vladimir’s desk sitting on the edge.

“So what about Regal’s blade? Why on Karel’s side?”

Vladimir looked up again from his papers. "Regal Burnswidth called himself the Demon of Swords. He wanted an epic fight with the Saint of Swords in a titanic clash of good versus evil. Moron never got his wish as far as I knew, last I heard was of some Akashima man ending his desires to be the Saint of Swords atop a sky dragon."

"God these stories sound so wild...and yet..." she hugged her arms as she grinned. "So real." She walked over to the other side of the wall and looked upon the wall of swords for any new entries. As she stopped in fornt of a few she sighed to herself getting lost in her own imagination.

Never in her wildest dreams had Melinda thought she would be traveling the world with immortals, hunting down gods and freeing humanity from their chains of oppression. During her times as a squire in the order she had the very rare opportunity to fight alongside Vladimir when they were hunting down Marduk the Black.

As she was near him she began to listen to him mutter about how annoying she was. Her curious personality pushed him to open up and Vladimir began to explain his story to her. Ever since then he had her come visit him in this very office where he talked about the good old days. She was positive that he appointed her head of his company because he wanted a friend nearby, though the great Vladimir Sigma would never, ever admit that. Though she knew it was just a dream, she had grown fond feelings for Vladimir as well as some of the other immortals.

"Any more reports of those touched?" Melinda said sitting upon the couch. Vladimir shook his head. He stopped when he found a clipped newspaper article mixed in with his reports. His eyes scanned the sheet left to right and his golden orbs grew in size with each word he read. He put the clip down and reached for his phone on his desk, hitting the speed dial.

"Temptress Gentleman's Club." A voice said sweetly on the other line.

"Lady Mizami, and tell her it's her favorite customer." There was a pause on the phone.

"Lady Mizami tells you that she will happily talk to you when you pay her the fees for shutting her club down for a private audience." There was a hint of amusement in those words. Vladimir slammed his fist on his table as he closed his eyes tightly.

"Tell that shade crawler I already did pay her when she robbed me of my bullets!" Vladimir seethed. The phone remained silent. The shuffling sound of a phone changing hands filled his ear when a husky, seductive voice began to talk.

"I swear to you Vlad, I have no clue what you’re talking about."

"We may be on a phone, Sarah, but wipe that stupid grin off your face and get serious." Sarah Mizami laughed wildly on the other end. The two of them had known each other before they teamed up to hunt gods. They never really liked each other then, and Vladimir was reminded each day why he didn’t get together with her to chat and drink. The fact she was a vampire didn’t exactly make him feel comfortable either.

"No really, I don't have the bullets. Besides I thought your company gave up military research and all that media stunt garbage." Vladimir sighed.

"And you are telling me you believe that? My how you've fallen." Sarah just sighed in a bored fashion.

"I don't have anyone to keep me company anymore. Jared keeps wandering off in his mad hunts." Vladimir looked at the clip again.

"Read today's paper?" he asked moving the conversation away from Jared. She usually got rather short tempered when it came to that name. Sarah grunted.

"I don't have time for that luxury. I have my girls read it for me." Vladimir looked closer at the paper article.

"You didn't read the obituaries then." Sarah's breath suddenly stopped as she snapped and ordered for a paper to one of her strippers.

"Who died? Wilfred? Taka? Seth?" her tone was filled with worry and Vladimir let that sink in for a moment, enjoying her un-comfort before he replied.

"No, it's Jensen." he said after a moment. Something broke on the other end.

"What the hell do you mean Jensen's dead?" Vladimir looked to the paper closer.

"Jensen, no known last name, was found dead in an abandoned warehouse by the Coronian docks. A solitary note was strapped to his chest, written in perfect script of an older dialect of trade speak. Upon the note read: Dear friend's, you never visit anymore and I got lonely missing what we had. Goodbye cruel world, you never liked me anyway. He was found with one gunshot to the head."

Despite himself, both Sarah and Vladimir laughed at the last line.

"Drama queen." Sarah muttered. "It's obviously a note meant for us. Just, what is he saying?" Vladimir continued to chuckle.

"It's an old Knights trick. Remember the man was the Champion of Famine back in the day." Vladimir took one last look at the paper. "In short, he's saying he needs to see us, badly, and that something that belongs to us is no longer in his possession. I control everything that I used to own, so it must refer to either Jared's daggers or your so called 'girls.' Question is, when can we meet to go talk to him?" Sarah sighed heavily.

"Let me get back to you. Holidays are busy times for us. More work, more stress, you get the idea." Vladimir nodded dropping the phone on the receiver.

Melinda looked to him intently, her hands already removing her blouse as she walked over to a wall. She touched a plaque underneath three daggers and a small drawer opened next to her.

"What's the mission?"

"You really get all hot and bothered when Jensen is concerned." Melinda's face turned red. Vladimir took his shirt off walking over to his mother's sword pressing the plaque. A hidden closet opened up.

Walking inside he looked to each flak suit, deciding upon a lighter design. He changed quickly clasping a belt over his chest. He loaded up the bandoleer, an ancient leather six shooter holder, filling it with all types of moon clips. He went back out to his wall of weapons, pressing the plaque shutting the wall door. He lifted his hand and pressed the plaque with the name Jezebel Raynes. A small drawer popped open in front of him and he pulled out two six shooter handguns. He rolled the barrel and clicked them into place.

He looked over to see Melinda dressed in full light armor. She held a shotgun on her back and looked up at the wall of swords lifting up the three daggers and placing them along her strap across her left breast.

"You better make sure those don't get lost." Vladimir warned. "Those are Serras father's." Melinda nodded. She walked over to the one blade above all others and bowed lightly to it.

"Thank you, for letting me borrow your weapons." she said lifting up and turning to Vladimir. "I got an SUV waiting for us downstairs."

"Good." Vladimir said. "Let's go." he walked quickly stopping before the door and lifted one old, tattery cloak. He placed it around his neck and tied it off. When he walked it flowed behind him like a cape.

"The last Knight of Apocalypse." Melinda whispered behind him. "What a nostalgic little whore..." she grinned.

[Dissinger]

Time had changed many things about this world. It was the ultimate predator, waiting before it slowly drained away the vitality of those who sought to free themselves from it's grasp. At one point, the aged god had likened it to a river, and in many ways that was still true. Time was ever flowing; those who sought to stem its tide only succeeded in being washed away. It would erode stone, turning even the mightiest mountain into a molehill. It would wash away everything, allowing some who had earned a lifetime or damnation to seek redemption, should they have wanted it.

Seth had long learned not to care what others thought.

It had been lifetimes ago that the onetime Lavinian Demon had wandered the world, like a child, seeking the acceptance of his peers. Seth had failed to learn that other people only sought to destroy what they couldn't understand, and Seth had been one of those things. It would never matter how much he had tried to erase his past, the world remembered, like it did all its butchers. To this day, the Lavinian Demon was a dark stain upon the history of the remade Lavinya.

Still time had been kind to the god in a way; he had been able to eek a living out on a farm, completely cut off from the outside world, thoroughly convinced it was the better thing to do. He had pulled on clothing that was more modern, only in acknowledgment that he was in newer times. Often he preferred his old clothes, but going into town wearing such things made for more awkward and an experience than usual. He was busy checking on the cows when the wards he had put up about the ranch screamed in his head about a visitor.

"Bout damn time you showed up Wilfred, you better have the good stuff..." Seth muttered under his breath. Picking up the cattle prod he hefted it over a shoulder before he headed back towards the farm. Liliana would most likely have a pot of coffee on for the wizard, it was after all almost his bedtime. Living on the other side of the world had its perks at times, making such visitations short was both a blessing and a curse, which is why Seth approached them like anything else in his life, with a healthy dose of jaded sarcasm.

The wizard was already looking about the area as Seth waved a hand, stopping his wards from attacking the intruders. It was the standard greeting, and he wasn't sure if the Magus had even picked up on its true meaning, as he waved at the one time Hex Magi and held up two bags, one clinked with a couple of bottles, while the other was filled with square like boxes. He then spoke, "I decided I'd go all out on the sacrifices today, rather than incur your deific vengeance."

"You know us Deities, so long as you kiss our ass to make up for pissing us off we don't give two shits...though Virgins shouldn't have gone out of-"

A boot flew through the air, sailing with all the grace and beauty of the hand that launched it. As it hit him in the side of the head, the Lavinian stumbled a step not even registering the pain of being hit so much as the shock of what had occurred. Looking down he saw the all too familiar boot of his wife, settling upon the ground in a cloud of dust. A low chuckle left his lips before he heard it, "Don't even start that line of thought mister. You have a wife, what would you even do with a virgin?"

"I don't know, isn't that half the fun?" Seth said looking up his avatar, and partner for life. They had been together so long they just knew what the other needed, unspoken words and questions, the fights and the prods. It was never meant in any negative way, hadn't in centuries, merely to remind the other that they had someone with them, and they were stuck with that person.

Liliana still looked much as she had when she had pulled his soul from the Abyss. Her straight brown hair fell to about halfway down her back. Her attire for the morning comprised of a flowery skirt and a cotton button down shirt, set in a plaid pattern. The shirt hung over the skirt obscuring a portion of it, and while the top button was left loose, there was no scandalous showing of flesh. Seduction and lust were something for people who didn't count their age in millennia. Her feet were in slippers, and sitting on the ground next to her was a sole boot, the twin to the offend garment that had struck the deity.

"Morning Mrs. Dahlios, it’s a pleasure as always to see you up and about," Wilfred said, changing topics with a casualness that belied his teaching profession. Perhaps he had something important to say, because he seemed to have an agitated air about him. Seth made note of it, but didn't say anything. He figured he'd get it soon enough, and confronting Wilfred on it was a sure sign to get him to clam up. The Golem had a bit of a tick where he liked to reveal things in due time.

Moving inside with the Golem Seth tossed Liliana's boot next to its twin before he sat at the table. Liliana sat next to him and rested a gentle hand on his should, reminding him they had things to discuss later. Wilfred however dumped the two bags in front of them and spoke hurriedly, "I may not have much time to talk today, it seems there have been a few interesting things occurring as of late."

"Interesting as in war? Or interesting as in Immortal news?" Seth asked, cutting to the quick. Since Wilfred was beginning, he figured he could pry, after all the Golem had basically created a class like atmosphere for the God and his avatar.

"A little bit of both if you could believe it," Wilfred said as he sighed. Pulling a paper clipping he tossed it onto the table where Seth snatched it up looking up it.

"Wilfred, what does theft have to do with anything? It just says a few minor artifacts were stolen," Seth replied handing the article to Liliana, who looked it over before she gasped. Seth looked back and raised an eyebrow before she slapped his shoulder in a chiding manner.

"I can't believe you forgot to check the Museum name. Read it again Seth," Liliana said, thrusting it back into his hand.

"Right it said these items were taken from the Museum of Arts and History in Radasanth..." He stopped before he frowned and read it again. Finally something clicked before he looked at Wilfred, "Do you know what was taken?"

"Ebony and Ivory are still proudly on display, their sister daggers aren't," Wilfred replied coolly. He then leaned forward, "You owe it to her Seth, as much as you hate to get involved in her life, you owe it to her. For all the works she put into making sure you didn't have to get involved when that damn cult tried to resurrect you as a Traitor General. I could name even more incidents when she looked out for your interest, solely because she didn't want you leaving this place..."

Seth set it down before he looked into the bag. Sure enough Wilfred had bought the official Lavinian Ale, straight from his old hometown. Shaking his head softly he looked at the pie, noting it looked almost freshly made as well. This was a bribe, and he had just made his plea. He looked up at Wilfred before he spoke, "Will, look I would love to-"

"But, this is a world were the gods are beneath man. You can't get involved because humanity made the decision it didn't need you anymore, and you don't want to push them into making that choice again. Yes Seth, I've heard your arguments, and while I agree you shouldn't get involved often, this is a case where even Sarah may be unaware of the situation. As it is, she's already getting caught up in things regarding the Remi bloodline..."

"That bitch is active again?" Seth asked his eyes narrowing. Liliana placed a restraining hand on his shoulder before she pulled him back. Seth hadn't even realized the aggressive pose he had taken in defending his choice of non-involvement.

"We'll find the daggers. But why didn't you ask Jared to help in this? Surely he'd do anything to get back on Sarah's good side, especially after the divorce several years ago..." Liliana began, only to stop when Wilfred held up a hand.

"That divorce wasn't as ugly as you'd think, mainly because Jared wasn't around to contest it. He's gone underground ever since Vladimir decided to kill him as a Touched. Only reason Vlad hasn't sought you is because he can't kill you any more than you him. No one knows where Jared is, and he's gotten very good at hiding his tracks. I tried calling his cell phone, only to get one of the girls at the Temptress. She told me Jared had given it to Sarah and when Jared's stuff was being packed up, she gave it to the girl in case Jared decided to report in. So, if you know where he is, tell me and I can hand this off to him," Wilfred spread his hands, showing no meaningful threat to the deities.

Seth groaned before he rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably, "Even when he's not around he managed to annoy the loving crap out of me. Guess this is his way of getting me back to cursing him like I did..."

"You did do it rather hastily. I guess its small favor to know he was the Catalyst and you had to anyways..." Liliana replied rubbing his shoulders she then looked at Wilfred before she spoke, "We can't go to Radasanth, the second we do, Sarah's going to know something is up and find out why. Are there any clues we can seek outside the city? I'd rather hold off on a family reunion until we can get everything under wraps."

"All I have is the newspaper clippings, I can call you when I get back to town and visit the museum again. I had a couple of students checking for extra credit, but I don't want to involve them beyond curiosity," Wilfred said before shaking his head, "It had to be some kind of inside job too, not every day someone steals two daggers and various other junk from a museum."

[Lavinian Pride]

Downtown was known for a lot of things. Some said it was the seedier side of Radasanth. Perhaps it was a holdover from the old times where people could disappear and never return. It was known however that crime was at a higher rate in the area, and therefore a reason why rent was so dirt cheap. There was also a notorious club that functioned in the downtown area, one that preyed upon the curiosity of its viewers, luring them in with a sensuality that was unearthly.

The place was well kept, perhaps better than its neighboring buildings. It held neon lights that were constantly on, despite the high bills that would surely come of their maintenance and replacement. It showed a sultry form relaxing, head tilted back, seeming to let out a laugh. Across from the body was a single word, “Temptress” emblazoned for all to read, and leaving no imagination to what went on in this den of sexuality.

However, deep inside, where no light could shine, several women were clustered around the desk of another, and the tension could be cut by a knife.

The phone hit the cradle making a distinct clatter as the newspaper was tossed upon the desk. The room seemed eerily silent, a pregnant silence that seemed to hold too many possibilities. Possibilities that could get someone hurt or killed, especially since they were paid to prevent exactly what happened. Various girls stood in the office waiting desperately for some sign everything would be alright, or whether they should start running.

A slender hand rose to brown hair, gently sweeping back a few loose bangs to behind the ear. It was a futile gesture, for almost immediately a few loose strands freed themselves from their prison and hung before the brown eyes of the woman. Her lips were pressed into a thin line that seemed to speak volumes of the emotional state she was in. SHe was dressed in a formal suit jacket and skirt combo that didn't suggest so much as hint at her curvy nature.

When she spoke, her tone was pleasant, which scared the girls even more, that tone had been the end of more than a few girls’ careers, "So, who was in charge of reading the gods be damned papers this morning? Or for this week for that matter?"

One of the girls stepped forward before she said softly, perhaps cowed by the siren, "It was mine Lady Mizami, I'm-"

"I'm not interested in sycophancy, just shut up and take your lumps like the others have," Sarah snapped, a brown eye drilling deeply into the eyes of the poor girl. She seemed almost dazed at the sheer power she felt radiating from the woman, and if the rumors were true, there was more power lurking within, yearning to be free. She then continued with a growl, "It seems that no one told you how important it is I'm kept abreast of current events. So let me explain it to you slowly, let it pickle into your head, before you read the rest of the damn paper and tell me what else I should know about. Are we clear?"

"As crystal Lady Mizami," The girl said, before folding her hands in front of her, in an obviously submissive act.

"I am too busy running the night club and my clan in order to read the paper every morning. Now, I pay one of you girls to, instead of baring it all for crowds and money, instead read the paper and tell me if anything related to a few places or names shows up. Does anyone even remember those names, or do I have to write it out in crayon so you have pretty colors to look at and remember them by?"

The girls remained silent. None of them seemed too keen on raising her ire anymore, and no one wanted to be the target of humiliation in this tirade. However the girl singled out finally spoke, "Your friends and the museums, maybe a couple of other places..."

The room was silent.

"A couple of other places you say, enlighten me. I just want to see if your manager put enough effort into training you, or whether you just lucked out and got the easy job..." Sarah continued her ire rising.

"L-l-like Lavinya, or Otaria, maybe even Fallien?" The girl was near tears at the rather scathing treatment.

Sarah sighed before she rubbed her temples and spoke clearly, "Go take your lunch, I'll have to talk to your manager, it’s obviously not your fault." A hand dismissed the girl who rushed out of the room quickly, unsure as to why she was being let go. The remaining women knew the real answer. Sarah was human despite being a Vampire, and she mothered her girls as much as she could. They were also pretty certain Sarah would chastise the poor girl’s manager, and then let it drop.

She had lost a lot of her fire since Jared had left.

"Would anyone care to explain to me how much I pay you girls to keep your eyes on the world around you, rather than on the customer's wallets?" Sarah said, the fatigue creeping into her voice. It was getting to be late, and Sarah needed to sleep. Despite being a vampire she often worked during the day working under the guise of one of the myriad of female owners of the shop. Each was a carefully cultivated disguise of the elder Vampire.

"Enough to put us through the local college if we felt like attending it, and still keep up with rent and bills..." One of the girls offered.

"That's right, so when I tell you to read the god damned papers and tell me when shit like Jensen getting killed happens, you do it. Even if you feel it’s trivial or not. Anyone remember the last fiasco that someone trivialized?"

A shudder crept through the room as everyone recalled the conniption the vampiric vixen went through when she had found out someone hadn't told her, her brother's daggers were stolen. They had only checked to see if Sarah's daggers had been taken, figuring she wouldn't like to know the state of her brother's daggers, only to find quite the opposite. They had to renovate the Temptress after that particular tantrum.

"Good, so I don't need to remind you what happened? Please girls; you are my eyes and ears out in the world. I cannot go out there and I have to be active at my weakest times. I wish I could be out there doing it on my own, but without Jared here to run shop during the day, I can't do that. There's far too much going on for me to trust everything to you girls. That's my job, and why I'm in charge. Are we clear girls?"

A chorus of "yes" replies rang through the room before she lifted the paper and eyed it. Finally she dropped it on the table before she spoke, "So, with that done, lets get to business. Vladimir obvious was a bit upset that I stole bullets..."

The girls waited for the question.

"Did I really order that?"

One of the girls stepped forward and nodded, "Yeah, you did. Perhaps you were drunk on a bit of Absinthe, but you decided you wanted to poke a little fun at Vladimir. They're currently in the basement with the guns that never get used. I think you're stockpiling for a war, anything we should know about Mistress?"

"No, I think you pretty much summed it up. Without Jared around to keep me entertained I guess I'm slipping. When is their next shipment?"

"In about a month's time..." The woman replied looking through a few papers.

"Good, I want it in the basement. Let’s try giving the order sober and see how that ends up..."

[KOA]

“So tell me more about Irrenes.” Melinda said casually as Vladimir rolled his eyes sitting at the red light. He turned to her, letting her know her questions bothered him, and then looked back to the road. When the light turned green he pushed on the gas and the car moved down the main road of Corone towards the docks.

Back in his day Vladimir had traveled this unpaved path by foot passing merchants and fighting off bandits. Where once there were just trees and bushes now there was pawn shops, restaurants and a few gas stations. Times had changed the island nation, but with the progression of time comes the marching of change. It was inevitable he guessed. If they no longer had to worry about the gods they race of mankind would worry about something else.

“Haven’t I already told you everything,” he said off handedly. “Twice?” he added. Melinda gave him a sour look but he ignored her. He just wanted to get this meeting over with and go back home.

“Not everything,” Melinda said in a chastising way as she looked out the window. “Still promised to tell me about that giant axe and halberd on the back of your wall underneath Serra’s blade.” Vladimir sighed as he hit another red light. So far he had hit every last one and his nerves were getting grated upon.

“Honestly I don’t know too much,” he admitted chewing his lower lip to kill some time as he thought back to the people who carried them. “The axe belonged to a man named Paul Donovan, one of the Six Heroes of Emprea I was told. One of those crazy berserkers you see in the movies. All brawn and very little brains. Yet like most bears he as a gentle as a lamb.” Melinda laughed as he grinned despite himself.

“The halberd belongs to his wife, another Hero of Emprea by the name Viola Conda. She’s a tough one she is. Gave Rebecca hell on an almost constant basis. She had and her husband both ran the Blacksmith.”

“She pretty?” Melinda asked.

“I’m not one to judge woman,” Vladimir said looking at his GPS to determine he was on the right road. “That was Sheex’s thing. She dressed like a man a lot. Very tomboyish in her demeanor and attitude. Hardly wore makeup. If she actually put on a dress and dolled up, something she hates doing by the way, she could pass for a seven.”

“So why is her blade dull? I notice you sharpened everyone’s blade again but Seed’s and Viola’s. Why is that?”

“You are getting nosy again.” He said flatly. Melinda sighed.

“Well there is nothing to do! So I may as well get to know the people who influenced your life the most!” She said raising her tone to defend herself. Vladimir grudgingly admitted as he nodded to her.

“I guess so,” he took a moment as he turned down the last street nearing the docks. Without to long he began to smell the salty air of the sea and he exhaled in pleasure. The sea was always a calming thing for Vladimir. “Just so we are clear, most of those people didn’t influence my life. I just fondly remember them. Viola and Paul are two cases of that. I never got to know them really well. Viola didn’t like me because Seed didn’t like me, and Paul never talked much to me unless it was with Regal.”

“So Paul a burly guy?”

“Yes with a chisled face like a god,” Vladimir sassed. “Shut up already about how they look. Paul was a brute of a man and he hung out with Regal. That alone should tell you the type of man Paul Donovan is.”

“Adventurous and fearless.” Melinda whispered under her breath. “Likes a strong woman, so Viola must be strong as well. Yea, not a looker, but I bet she’s one of those stoic types!” she chimed snapping her fingers. “Okay, I think I figured out how they looked.” Vladimir just gave her a confused look.

“I want to know all about them, every nauseating detail so when I visit them in my dreams I can say hello.” she said matter-of-factly. Vladimir just let out a snort of amusement.

“Whatever, crazy lady.”

The SUV rolled to a stop over the gravel, making a soft crunching noise as the lights turned off. The night had come to the docks and most of the overheads were already shot out or disabled. This particular docks had stopped being used in turn for more conventional ports closer to the cities.

Jensen was a unique immortal. Eccentric as they came and literally a happily insane man that was the protector of the artifacts. Each immortal made a pact nearly five hundred years ago to seal their powers so that when they performed an action it wouldn't destroy half the world. Jensen, an aloof man at the time, had vowed to protect them all and keep tabs on where the items were at all times. If at anytime he lost track of one, he would alert the other immortals it pertained to.

He also was a royal pain in the ass.

No matter how ruthless, how thorough, or how powerful a ritual or weapon was, Jensen was cursed to never die. This curse was gifted to him by the four horseman until there were only exactly two members of the Knight's of Apocalypse left. Many had thought when Vladimir destroyed his order over two millenniums ago he killed Jensen with it, but that truth was one solitary member of the Apocalypse had survived. Her name was Liliana Ambria, now known as Liliana Dahlios. If her or Vladimir were to die, Jensen would lose his curse.

Jensen's curse had been one that drove him so close to the brink of the edge that had he not been trained as a Knight of Apocalypse he surely would have lost his mind. To keep his sanity he stopped being concerned with concepts such as friendship and camaraderie. This was a result from when he returned from every killing field the only survivor, carrying a wagon of his dead comrades behind him.

Infernos, tactical bombs, recycling machines, being squashed, being beheaded, being chopped into thousands of pieces never seemed to work to end his life. Jensen always returned alive and well.

Only one theory had yet to be tested, and that was to put him up against the blade of Angel Slayer, a weapon with the ability to slay a god.

The only person who Jensen had shown any true compassion for in his disillusioned life was a boy named Jared from Lavinya. He had observed his life from a far, never interfering until a critical moment when Jared had obtained the same curse that Jensen had. His role was of the master, teaching his pupil the ways of his new life and the potential it created.

Jensen eventually grew bored and convinced Jared to try and destroy the world.

Vladimir looked around the docks carefully for any sign of movement before he motioned to Melinda to exit in short order. Jensen wasn't dead, he couldn't be. That only meant he was somewhere in this cesspool watching and biding his time.

He made battle sign for Melinda to cover him at seven paces behind in a sweep pattern as he moved carefully forward. Though his order was long ago torn asunder by his own hands, Vladimir never forgot his teachings. In this new age and time he had taught his new Knights of Apocalypse how to fight like the warriors of old. Though few in number, only five hundred or so trained warriors, they were easily a match for five times that.

Melinda had been that promising star that occurred so rarely. She held the title of Inner Circle member, and her duties were two fold in being a figure head of the company Vladimir created to hide his operations and fund his search for those touched by the fallen gods. She was also the only person with enough personality that he could stand to be around. His mind was old and he found it hard to talk to anybody these days, there minds unable to comprehend his words at times.

I'm getting old. Vladimir thought dully as he looked into an empty warehouse. Hair died white, stinking ratty cloak from the old days, and a chair possibly covered in mold as my throne...yep, definitely getting old. He motioned for the all clear sign as he turned.

Before he could draw up his revolver he felt two hands grip his ears and force his face forward as a mouth enveloped his lips. Confusion and revulsion filled his eyes. After a moment he felt the embrace and pushed the assailant away with one hand, pumping six bullets into their chest with the other.

"By god, Vlad!" Melinda shouted as she ran to the assailants side. "You unloaded on poor Jensen!" In a forming pool of blood lay a scrawny, athletically built pretty boy. He had Raven black hair, pale skin, and just enough meat on his bone to pass for normal. Melinda dropped to his side gripping his hand.

"It's his own damn fault!" Vladimir's mouth was spitting continuously to try and forget that horrible moment. "Bastard will come back to life any moment anyway."

As if on cue Jensen's gem black eyes sparkled into life as he smiled like a Cheshire cat. He looked to CEO of Knight of Apocalypse enterprises like they were lovers, biting his thumb seductively. Vladimir repulsed the thought as he sighed irritably growling angrily.

"What the hell happened, Jensen? What is missing, Jared's daggers missing?" Jensen rose up holding Melinda's hand in his own, locking fingers bringing her close to him as he leaned his head lazily on her shoulder.

"Neeeeooope." Jensen yawned. Vladimir felt his temple pulsing in rhythm with his rage. "Girl's." he put one arm around Melinda's waist as he ushered her forward. Vladimir followed.

"That was a message meant for Sarah by the way." Jensen said offhandedly as he began to nuzzle Melinda's neck softly. Vladimir's hand gripped Jensen's black hair and he tugged seperating the two.

"Sorry darling! My boy toy's a little rough!" Melinda giggled as Vladimir pulled his pistol out and aimed it at Jensen's heart. "Come on Vladimir, get original!" The dark knight grinned devilishly as he lowered it to Jensen's crotch. "Ah, original!" he smiled lifting both hands up in mock defeat. He was pushed aside as Vladimir looked the place over.

"How did it happen?" Melinda said moving them along. She knew from personal experience that Vladimir could only stand Jensen in small doses. Sarah Mizami could stand even less. One of the quirks that Jensen eventually grew out of was his thrill of terrorizing small children. Kid Dahlios, Sarah's own, was one such child.

"Inside job." Jensen stretched his arms as he walked through the empty warehouse. He lifted a solitary remote in his hand and clicked a button.

A soft rumbling shook Vladimir as two holes in the ground opened up, a crane lifting up two boxes. There was a solitary label attached to the boxes marked in red. Vladimir sneered in contempt.

"Remi..." he breathed. The goddess of blessed torture and terror, Cassandra Remi. Her death was not easy, cost him personally, and damn neared killed Taka if not for Liliana's fast acting and Wilfred's magic. The woman was slain, her memory had preserved. It was Wilfred's and Sarah's job to monitor those touched by her. Thankfully, that was few and far between and amounted to only misguided fools.

"You sound like she killed you...oh wait, she had a field day with me!" Jensen snarled. Rarely did the man every get upset about anything, but Cassandra Remi had found such a way. She tortured Jensen in ways he didn't know he could be.

"I take it then you left me the note to pick all this up?" Vladimir said thumbing his SUV.

"I don't want her trash here." Jensen walked back with a few papers. "Sign for em and get rid of em."

"What about a museum?" Vladimir said pushing the papers away. "I don't want her ill work either. Besides, this is Sarah's or Wilfred's domain."

"I don't want her garbage either!" A femine voice spoke in the darkness like a ray of light. All three turned in surprise, Vladimir lifting his guns, Melinda placing a hand on her daggers, and Jensen lifting his pen like a bastard sword. He also grinned like a lunatic.

Lady Sarah Mizami stepped forward with an entourage of five woman who all held high powered rifles as they made their way into the flickering light. The owner of the Temptress smiled to Vladimir, winked to Melinda, and glared at Jensen.

"I told you to take good care of the girl's." she said darkly. "That was your part of the deal." Jensen shrugged.

"Sorry, got busy with finding this." He thumbed the two crates.

"What the hell is in them anyway?" Vladimir said turning to face the former champion of Famine. He walked over to the crate and patted it as he entered the darkness.

"Two of her most potent artifacts. Anima Revixi, and the diary of Catrina Ferman."

"Such huge crates for a necklace and a book." Sarah blurted as she walked forward.

"It's not the items, it's the foul taint." Jensen returned with a box he handed over to Sarah. She snapped it out of his hands and held it closed. "Her dark companion was repulsed by the magic in the ritual to make her a god, so her twisted ambitions embedded itself in her items in the hopes to one day be with her again."

"Touching. Fine, drop it off in my warehouse Jensen. Then call Taka and get him to come over. He's got Tenacity to look at as well." Sarah looked to the box.

"What's in here?" she asked flatly. Jensen shrugged. She looked inside and opened it finding a solitary note. Though she never spoke of it, her eyes couldn't hide it.

"Jared at long last speaks." Vladimir whispered. Sarah tossed the box to one of her girls and looked to Jensen who was slowly crawling obviously over to Melinda.

"What about the daggers? Any cult following?"

"Nope, but it had to be the excavator. He's the only one who would know of their significance. You need to get those back, Sarah." Jensen said obviously as he leapt next to Melinda and wrapped his arms around her neck from behind.

Melinda giggled as he began to ravish her with hidden attentions. Vladimir and Sarah both sighed as they turned to each other. "Good help," Sarah muttered.

"Hard to find." Vladimir finished. The two had an awkward coexistence, and the tension between them was apparent. Sarah had learned her magic from Vladimir in return her aid in destroying his order. Eventually they both agreed to disagree and they left ways on such a sour note that blood was all they new between each other. When Liliana had nearly been killed by Vladimir it was Sarah who blocked his blade. It was only after Vladimir and Sarah had saved each others life fighting the god Marduk, Tiamet's Jailer, did they start to forge an awkward friendship.

"Stop stealing my bullets." Vladimir said after a moment of silence, which was made awkward by Jensen and Melinda's moaning.

"Stop shipping them in my territory." She retorted, smiling.

"Stop confusing my territory for yours." he crossed his arms in challenge.

"Stop being stubborn."

"Stop being a bitch."

"Ouch, my feelings." Sarah mocked being stabbed. Vladimir walked closer to her and could hear the clicks as the entourage of guardians prepped their rifles. Despite Jenen's protests Melinda held her shotgun at the ready.

"Please!" Vladimir laughed with Sarah as she looked to her girls. "By the time you pull the trigger your dead."

"That goes for you too, Melinda." Vladimir wiped a tear in his eye. He rarely got to laugh anymore. "A vampire is legendary for a reason." The two walked in silence as they stepped outside.

Both looked up to the moonlight and Vladimir looked to Sarah in all seriousness. "What do you think it means? Your daggers are nothing compared to Ebony and Ivory, and they were only one case away."

"That's what I want to know too..." Sarah wondered loudly. "I have to call Wilfred. He left me a disturbing message I had to look into, it's why I was late."

"What was it?" Sarah shrugged.

"Someone is touched by Cassandra." she admitted. Vladimir felt a shudder crawl down his spine. "Don't worry, I got the easy gods to watch out for." Sarah pushed a large envelope into Vladimir's hands. He didn't have to be immortal to know what she handed him.

"Who?"

"A mage, touched by Mordechi." she walked away from him towards her limousine. "Deeply touched."

Vladimir sighed rubbing his head. He looked up to the sky.

"Remind me again, Karel, why you are allowed the peace of eternal rest and I'm cleaning up after us?" he turned back to the warehouse. "MELINDA! STOP MAKING OUT WITH JENSEN AND LETS GO!"

Within a few moments she was charging out the warehouse with Jensen at her heels, trying to rip her shirt off as she laughed moving swiftly to the SUV.

Holding his gun up levelly he fired once hitting Jensen square between the eyes. "God damn pain in the ass..." he seethed to Melinda as she sheepishly got into the driver's seat.

[Liliana Ambria]

It was an interesting experience. In the millennia that Liliana and Seth had existed on this planet, she had only seen him pretend he was unhappy about something once before. That was when he had fought with her in the ruins of his hometown, for the right to become a god. He had pretended to be sorry that he had to fight and couldn't lay down his weapons, but the truth was known to her, even as he hid it behind a mask of determination.

He lived for the thrill of the fight, and the fact she had finally gotten to his level, had excited him beyond his wildest hopes.

Now, he was grumbling about hiring on ranch hands to watch over the cattle and to watch the fields while he would be gone. He might have been serious in some minor ways, but deep down, he was excited to be doing something different. While he lived in his own secluded world, and he blamed humanity for his exile, that was only half the truth, and Liliana didn't dare question him on the other half.

Seth could have forced mankind into worshiping him, he just didn't want to.

He was never a good deity, as far as the others were concerned. As the blessed god of Balance, he acted only when the need arose, and often stayed out of things. What frustrated the gods to no end was he was often forced to correct an imbalance they had created. At first they had attacked him, even wounding him a few times, but none could match what Liliana had inflicted with Angel Slayer. The wounds of which hadn't closed until recently, when Seth pulled his last power play to lay her old master to rest.

When she joined him as his Avatar, it was perhaps her last step in figuring out who she was. She had fought it for countless centuries, seeking to destroy Seth and prevent her destiny, yet she knew she could only hasten it, never truly eliminate it. Now she stood here, watching him grumble a bit more before they began walking down the road. They continued to walk down for a bit before he shook his head.

She could feel his impatience, the energy that thrummed underneath his skin. It had been awhile since he had been able to stretch his godly muscles, and now he could once more. She knew he was going to speak soon of quickening the pace, and she would chide him, as she always did when he used his powers frivolously. He would retort, and they would turn it into a joke between them for the journey...

"Perhaps we should just go right to the Museum," Seth said finally.

Liliana playfully slapped his shoulder, "Right, use that godly power for useful purposes, like making a walk down the street faster."

"You know what I meant Angel..."

"Of course, but it doesn't make it any less childish," She gave him a smirk, showing no malice.

"Did Wilfred give us anything?"

"No, but the morning paper did. It said that there was no sign of the Archivist since the incident. He's a prime suspect in the theft. Though why Sarah's Daggers? Everyone knows Ebony and Ivory were the more powerful of the sets. Even though you can't bind your power like the others did, they were still potent artifacts..."

"There are a couple of differences, mine didn't kill a god. Also mine can't be wielded by anyone, Sarah's can..."

"What about Jared's then, surely his are stronger?"

"Deceptively so. They don't cause fatal wounds unless he turns off the enchantments. Even then Jensen doesn't know how it works, only Jared does, and he's obviously not talking. Makes me restless knowing that if he didn't hold back so much he would be stronger than I was as a mortal..."

Liliana nodded solemnly before she sighed, "Well lets think logically, when someone wants to be lost, they run to one place on this forsaken globe..."

"Otaria, you know, it’s funny how the city of traitors has become the final haven for madness in this world. People used to avoid that place, now it’s a bigger commerce hub than Lavinya ever was," Seth shook his head before he said softly, "Funny to think my grave is there..."

"There are a lot of things there Seth, get over it. I doubt there's a place on this planet that doesn't hold some significance to you. Now, shall we?"

"I thought that was childish abuse of power?"

She shoved him with another playful smirk, "Yeah, well I'm tired of walking, and I don't feel like using my divine spark for that, why don't you oh master..."

"Hey now, enough with the foreplay. What would the kids think?"

[Lavinian Pride]

The limo was making its way through the streets, even as Sarah looked at the box. She had set it on the leather cushions of the car, and engaged in idle talk with the other women in the car, but always her gaze returned to the box. Eventually it got to the point the girls asked her about it, and she replied flippantly that it was just a message, and that she had gotten it loud and clear. The women didn't push it, mainly because what Vladimir had said still rang in their ears.

Jared Cesarino made Sarah a volatile puzzle.

She was often straightforward and maintained a bit of an arrogant air about herself. The elder vampiress after all had been running the Temptress for millennia, even moving the club from its original home in Otaria. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was use a strip club for a front. The young women under her care were never for want of anything. Even those that were there merely to work as strippers found her as a mother protecting them from the lecherous patrons. They were never ordered to do anything, they volunteered for it.

When Jared was thrown into the mix, Sarah was allowed more freedom and spontaneity. This made it almost impossible to predict her mood and more importantly, her ticks. The fact that the box was from Jared meant something, and they weren't sure what. It seemed as if a bit of the Old Sarah had been injected, and until she worked it out of her system, they could only watch and wait. She seemed inside herself as she opened the box and looked upon it once more before she closed it and sighed.

"When was that deal supposed to go down?" Sarah finally asked, returning to business.

"Deal? You mean the drug deal we knew was a trap? Tonight," The leader of these girls, Aislinn, was an older woman, in her mid twenties. Brown hair fell in curls about her, and she wore an outfit much like Sarah, giving her a professional look, and hinting at the beauty that lay beneath her clothing. It had been years since the general public had seen it, and nowadays she was too busy for even a private audience, let alone a boyfriend.

Aislinn had been rescued by Sarah when her abusive boyfriend had come into the Temptress one day to tell off his girlfriend's manager. He had gotten into Sarah's office, and even managed to yell for a good five minutes. The other girls left the room quickly to avoid the storm they could see brewing, and even Jared had been worried about what was going on in the office. Wisely however, he kept them out of it, if only to protect them from Sarah's dangerous temper. Sarah finally acted, and when she did, the man had left the club, quietly and never returned.

No one knew what Sarah had done, but it was obvious to anyone who had seen it she had put the fear of the gods into him. He had left immediately and quickly, and had nearly jumped when one of the girls approached him before he got out of the club. Sarah didn't say a word about it, and much to Aislinn's relief had said there would be no discussion of what had occurred. They had seen a small bruise on Sarah's cheek that had healed within a few hours, and with that, the man was forgotten.

Aislinn had talked to Sarah only a few times about it, only getting the same answer. Her boyfriend hadn't even called her, merely had made himself scarce to the point of avoiding her at all costs. Aislinn was at first crushed, but Sarah had made it a point to keep her busy and with the Vampire, preventing her from falling into a deep depression. Now, she could barely remember his name, let alone what she had seen in him. Aislinn was perhaps the one that knew the most about Sarah, only because the Vampire had groomed the girl into a sort of Lieutenant following that incident.

This was one of those times however, that she could not tell the others anything.

Sarah nodded before she knocked on the pane of glass between her and the driver. The man quickly lowered the window before he looked at the rear view mirror at her questioningly, "Yes Mi'Lady?"

"Head for pier twenty-seven on the wharf, I have a job to do over there," Sarah said impatiently. The man nodded and quickly rolled the window back up. It was for obvious reasons, what he didn't know he couldn't tell, and Sarah wasn't keen on informing him. The girls just looked at their leader, questioning her sanity for going into something they had known for months was a trap. She merely looked upon them before she said simply, "You won't accompany me here. I won't be needing your services this time..."
"Lady Mizami, that's suicide. You need us if you want any hope of coming out of there unhurt!" Aislinn countered before the car rounded a corner, giving a few of the girls a shock as they leaned and almost fell over each other in their seats.

"You won't accompany on this one Aislinn. I know you seek to protect me in exchange for what I did for you, but on this one, I refuse your services," Sarah replied firmly even as she lifted one of the cushions pulling out a small duffel bag. The other girls raised eyebrows and looked to Aislinn, waiting to take a clue from her.

"You aren't going to negotiate are you?" Aislinn asked. The bag was unzipped revealing some clothing that looked more appropriate for athletic wear than business. Aislinn recognized the outfit, having seen it a few times before. Sarah rarely needed clothes that flexible, but when she did, it was a bad sign.

"I need to blow off some steam," Sarah replied coolly, even as she began to unbutton her jack and take it off. Looking at the other girls she said, "I don't mind you watching, just stay in the limo. The driver is used to this by now; the first sign of trouble should see you out of here." She slipped on the pair of gym shorts under her skirt and sighed looking down. She then looked at the girls before she shook her head, "Sorry for this bout of immodesty, I can't wear a normal bra going in there..."

"What did he say?" Aislinn asked finally. Sarah pulled the sports top over her head and covered herself modestly once more before she pulled her hair out of the sports top. She seemed to ignore the girl, and the others merely looked between the two before Sarah finally tossed the box to Aislinn. She deftly caught it and opened it before an eyebrow rose, "That's certainly a blatant statement..."

"Yes, well since we're almost there you can explain it to the other girls. Meanwhile I'm going to take care of this indiscretion, and end their shortchanging me," Sarah responded. Her heels were kicked off before socks covered her feet once more. Black boots were slipped on over them, before a sigh of relief left her lips, "I tell you, those heels should be declared torture devices. They have to be Cassandra Remi's final act of spite against the world."

Aislinn shook her head before she said, "Are you sure this is you blowing steam and not proving something to Jared? He's not even going to get the message either, so it would just be hubris for its own sake at that point."

"Aislinn, I know I pay you to be intelligent, and use that for me, but tonight I need you to play a bit dumber than you are," Sarah replied tersely. Gloves were pulled on over her slender hands, before long woolen sleeves moved to her wrist, then up to just below the elbow. The girls frowned seeing this odd sense of fashion before Sarah dug a bit deeper and grinned. Finally the sound of metal against metal could be heard softly from the pack as a belt holding twin daggers was pulled from the pack.

"I'm sorry Lady Mizami, that's not in my contract. Neither is me allowing you to slaughter a bunch of gang banging street toughs. I suppose we'll just have to make a compromise," Aislinn replied. A soft giggle escaped both girl's lips, before Sarah moved over to Aislinn and hugged her tightly. A soft kiss was planted on the girl's cheek before Sarah pulled away.

"You're like a daughter to me Aislinn, I want you to know that," Sarah replied.

"Is that why I'm stuck babysitting the girls while you go off and play immortal for a night?" Aislinn asked looking at Sarah.

"Maybe one night you'll be ready to see me at my lowest, but not tonight. Tonight is a night for the old ways, and for that to work, I can't risk what I've gained since then," Sarah replied.

"Promises, promises. Just don't get yourself killed Sarah, I don't think I could juggle these roles as well as you have," Aislinn said firmly. There was a hint of jest in those words, but also a hint of genuine care.

"Brat," Sarah replied almost immaturely before the limo came to a halt. Sarah moved to the door, which was carefully opened by the driver. Once outside the dagger belt was slung gracefully around her hips, over one and under the other in an act that accentuated them. It was the last view the girls had of their mistress before the door was slammed shut with an irreverent boot.

Sarah looked about the Wharf, which was more a ratty pier than anything else. A few warehouses lined the dockside, allowing for a place to store cargo until customs cleared it. They were surprisingly well maintained, though the low security often explained why deals such as these took place here. Any would-be security could be easily suppressed for a night with a timely bribe.

She turned to the driver before she said firmly, "I'll be setting up a camera in the warehouse, drive around the block for ten minutes or until Aislinn tells you to go home."

"Yes Mi'Lady," The driver replied before moving to the driver side door and driving off, leaving Sarah alone outside one of the warehouses.

She had work to do.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The school was busy with activity as Wilfred walked hurriedly into his classroom. Many of his students had already taken their seats, some sitting upon the desks themselves as he watched the people file into their seats one by one as people pointed out the teacher had arrived.

“Um, Mr. Waltz you do know the class syllabus for being tardy.” A wise cracking student said from the back row.

Wilfred smiled jovially. “Yes, that means no homework.” The classroom nearly erupted as the children rejoiced. “However, I wasn’t planning on giving you any tonight anyway. We are facing Savion tonight and I expect everyone to go watch the game!” The sport fanatics all cheered as they beat their desks with their fists. Wilfred laughed with them getting caught up in the team spirit.

“So let’s start today’s lesson. Page fourteen.” He turned to the white board.

“Marduk, Tiamet’s Jailor.” Wilfred said in his most serious tone. “Applied sciences and magic aside what is the significance of this deity in today’s world?”

“He needed a haircut?” someone offered. The classroom erupted in laughter. It was true, the picture in the textbook was god awful. Wilfred turned back to them smiling softly but shaking his head.

“Serious up people, we have a lot of ground to cover.” A hand rose up from a girl in the third row.

“Shaman’s use of magic is applied by using everyday items in rituals. Herbs mostly. But the rituals are also powered by the shaman’s natural affinity to magic. So in this case I would say…balance I guess.” Wilfred clapped his hands together.

“Bravo!” he shouted. “A perfect explanation of both science and magic. Chemistry and magic are like two sides of the same coin. Both accomplish great things, but put together you get great results. Any examples?”

“Penis enlargement pills?” the joker struck again, high-fiving his friends as the classroom laughed heavily. Wilfred let the environment settle down.

“In your case I would suppose it’s all you have to look forward to.” Wilfred said lazily as he turned back to the white board. If the class was laughing before, it was in tears now. The joker even laughed, bowing to Wilfred’s quick comeback.

“A real answer please!” Wilfred begged.

“Potions!”

“BINGO!” Wilfred shouted jovially moving forward to the second row walking up the aisle. He found the red head from earlier looking deeply into a book. He stopped behind her and she lowered the book into her bag. “Care to offer an example?” Wilfred said looking to her carefully.

“Twilight.” She mused to Wilfred looking him dead in the eyes. The golem looked to her with wide eyes as he took one step back. That was not something he expected to hear.

“What the hell is twilight?” somebody asked.

“It’s a deadly potion, or more bluntly, poison. It targets cells in the body of a vampire replicating them at an alarming rate, but there is a subtle little tweak. It makes the cells that are weak against sunlight and replicates them, but instead makes them weak to moonlight. The safest hour of a vampires life is in the twilight hours.”

“Again with the fantasy realm…” the blond from the first class chastised. “Another Cassandra Remi bed time story, Aerith?”

“It’s located within her books that she carried with her. It’s proof that she existed. They recently were excavated.”

“Vampires? Try again. No vampires exist in the world. Just elves and dwarves. Why don’t you stop living in a fake world and grow up.”

“Continue your ignorance. I am a believer.”

“Of what? Fairy tails mother goose?”

“Silence!” Wilfred said irritably. “One of you two has to go. I can’t keep having you disrupt class like this.” He rubbed his nose as he looked to the white board and then the clock. “Ah hell screw it. Class dismissed.” he said sighing. “Go give them hell Scorpions!” He cheered.

The class cheered as well as they left in a hurry. Only the red head stayed behind. Wilfred turned to her and his eyes were full of venom as he glared at her.

“Twilight?” he said at last.

“Yes, it’s a real poison!”

“No, it’s a theory!” Wilfred countered angrily. “Just a theory, just like the stories of her life. By the logic that creation has given you don’t you get that something like that is dangerous? What good do her teachings promote? Stab my friend in the back just to see the look on his face? Fillet the skin of a tied up individual just to hear them scream? What has gotten into you?”

“You speaking of my beliefs in Cassandra Remi?” the girl said coldly. “She fought injustice! She fought rapists, serial killers, mob bosses! She was a saint!”

“Oh that’s rich! Here’s another story for you. The Saint of Swords kills his own nephew, slaughters his sister, kills his brother in law, nearly destroys his best friends life, and spat in the face of everyone who cared for him. Should you go preaching about him next then?”

“You can’t shake my faith.” she said calmly. “I told you there are others like me, others who believe. Marduk, Tiamet’s jailor. Do you think his teachings have grown silent? How many ways can we pretend to ignore his works? Strength is the only power in this world. That’s his word, and people live it everyday without knowing it.”

“Your are blind…” Wilfred said at last. “So blind to that which is around you.” he shook his head in thought. “Do you work tonight?”

The red head raised an eyebrow. “Ya, I got a shift.” she said softly. “You coming to my show?”

“No, I’m coming to talk more about this. I have things that must be done in the mean time.”

“You’re going to have to pay for a private audience then. I’m a little popular.” Wilfred shook his head.

“I have connections, now go. We’ll talk later tonight.” The girl lifted her bag and walked forward before stopping in front of Wilfred, looking him up and down. He gave her a warning look before she lifted her finger to her lips and kissed the end of it pressing it to his face. He shied away from it, lifting his hand to stop her before pushing her away.

“See you then…” she said sweetly.

He waited until she was gone before he turned to his desk and sat down pulling out a laptop. He opened the web browser checking his mail finding something of notice from Jensen.

“There are but a handful of immortals left in this world…” he mused. “And yet…Jensen makes me want to kill myself sometimes.” He laughed at the thought of him dying. He didn’t fear death in the least, but as a golem he grew accustomed to that.

He scanned the email before he slammed his fists angrily on the desk, lifting his hand to his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. He cursed not being faster on it, but he found the number he was looking for.

“Lady Mizami’s office, this is Aislinn.” a voice said in an official tone.

“This is Wilfred Waltz.” he said quickly. “I need to speak to Lady Mizami.” There was a sudden silence before her muffled sound came over the receiver.

“She’s not in the car at this moment, Mr. Waltz. She’s in the middle of a business meeting.” Wilfred looked to the letter one last time.

“It’s important you interrupt that meeting.”

“Mr. Wilfred.” She said sternly. “I can’t…as much as I would love to…”

“Oh…” Wilfred caught the hint. There was only one time Sarah would deny Wilfred her attentions, and that’s when she was brawling. “Uh…Um…I uh…well…” Wilfred felt really foolish. He was a black magos lord and only recently had he felt comfortable using these new computers. That was only to turn them on and off.

“God this is really Dark’s stuff…” he whispered thinking of his long dead brother. “I uh…Um…”

“What can we do for you Mr. Waltz,” Aislinn said softly. “Just talk.”

“I erm…uh…how do I forward an electronic mail letter?” His voice was barely above a whisper. The woman’s laughter was so loud he pushed the phone away from his ear.

“Oh dear me, that’s not funny but…” she laughed again. “There should be a little green arrow at the top of the message pointing to the right.” he found it and used the mouse (a name he had no idea who came up with it.) to click on it. “After you click on that type in Lady Mizami’s email address.”

“Oh, that’s fifty five City street!” he said proud of himself.

“No Mr. Waltz. That’s the Temptress’ street address.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You are so adorable, Mr. Waltz.” she admitted.

“You’re cute too, now what the hell am I doing with this thing?” he said forcefully to get the mail moving along.

Her address is ‘Sarah.Mizami@Temptress.org’, she will receive it on her PDA when she gets back.

“Her phone can do that!?!” Wilfred was impressed. “That’s truly incredible!”

“Personally Mr. Waltz, I find it highly embarrassing that you teach at the most prestigious college in all of Corone, in a class titled advanced Magic and Applied sciences, and yet have no clue what a phone can do these days.”

“What would be the magical equivalent that required applied science.” Wilfred said in his teaching tone.

“A communications orb, using a rune system developed by Dwarves after the Demon Wars.” she replied rapidly.

“Exactly. Get me one of those and I’ll be more than content to school you on it.” He said smiling as he hung up the phone.

[Dissinger]

When one was a god, nothing was forbidden; at least that is what the mortals thought. The truth was perhaps not so amazing, and perhaps even frustrating. A god was bound by different rules than the ones the rest of humanity played by. No longer could he forge a path, instead he was to watch how things must happen, and not act to disrupt the flow of time too much. A god that manipulated events too greatly could be erased when Time would return the favor and change events to accommodate these variances.

Seth had made a career of following time's flow. Today, he was going to disrupt it, if only a slight amount. There was no telling how this would affect the time line, and while the backlash for acting out of balance would be considerable, Seth was willing to bear it upon his shoulders. Because he had chosen to intervene in events, they had grown murky, and the sight of time he had once been afforded effortlessly, was now lost, until such time that the flow had corrected itself, adjusting for the changes he would make.

In the time that Revan had been on this planet, over half of it had been spent as a barren wasteland. The other half had seen it recover, and thrive, if only barely. The once great Vampiric Empire of Revan had diminished, and in their stead had come the Traitors. The name that had eventually encompassed the race of beings that Seth and Jared belonged to. Created by Mordechai to destroy the world, their apt title was more than just an indication of things to come.

It was a reminder of what they had done. What had once been an alliance out of necessity had turned far darker, when the leader of the Traitor’s had disappeared, and with him, the only friendly tie to the Vampiric Nation of Revan. The remaining leaders of the Traitor’s Legion had descended upon Kenth with a finality, which saw the Vampiric Council shattered once and for all. With the last obstacle to reclaiming Revan defeated, they had begun a process of reclaiming the dead lands, returning them to their former glory.

Nowadays they had adopted a lesser moniker, one that was perhaps friendlier to their neighbors. Calling themselves Otarians, they were able to hide their true identities in the mask of history. Only those that knew what had occurred in Revan could talk of what the Otarians represented, and even fewer wanted to say such things in front of actual Otarians, who were never allowed to forget.

Seth, Jared, Mordechai, the Otarians were a race of cruel people, each more sinister than the last.

So, when Seth returned to the port town of Otaria on the shores of his homeland, it was a bit of a nostalgic journey. He had settled in the wild lands of Berevar falling the social collapse and second Dark Age of Althanas. Many blamed it on religious wars, but a few were blaming it instead on the fact Man had turned its back on the Gods. Slowly temples were being closed, as money no longer escaped their coffers. Statues were no longer being kept up, and the wild would eat away, either from the seasons themselves, or Mother Nature green in claw.

With no guidance, mankind had to decide for itself the fate they wished to employ.

This however, was no joyous homecoming. He was more than certain he would regret setting foot in the city, but as he looked up at the sky, and shook his head, he was carefully ignoring those thoughts, letting them float aimlessly, until such time they would be useful, if ever. Liliana called it his pessimistic reserve and Seth couldn't think of a better name for it. With a sigh he looked about the city streets, the bustle of traffic, nearly bumper to bumper in the streets, and the constant array of bicycles that paraded down the road.

With a sigh he grumbled, "I should be getting back to the farm. I can't believe Wilfred talked me into this, the ale was almost expired too..."

Walking down the streets with him, in jeans and a t-shirt covered by a warmer jacket, Liliana clucked her tongue as a mother before she said firmly, "You owe it to her Seth. Just do what you came here to do, and you can go back to your dirt."

"Should I cheat? It would make things faster," Seth asked raising an eyebrow.

Liliana frowned. Seth didn't often ask for her advice on using what they called the divine spark. He was fueled by faith, and it was his own willpower that had seen him stubborn enough to cultivate the minimal members necessary to actually maintain his spark of divinity. Even still, he was dwarfed in power, compared to what he once wielded, and perhaps that was for the better. He didn't need to do flashy gifts of the divine; his followers understood that a stern no wasn’t ever given in malice.

Even still, use of the Spark did not guarantee it would refresh quickly. When Seth drew upon his spark, he risked being weakened to the point of near mortality, until the faith restored enough to make it safe for use again. Seth never asked for her opinion about his spark use, nor did he want it most of the time. If anything he was a bit defensive about his spark use. For him to ask meant one thing, he didn't know.

Liliana finally spoke, her voice soft, "Do as you will darling. I would however make sure you aren't drained too much. We still have to get back to the farm in a timely manner."

Seth nodded before he led her down an alleyway. Cluttered with garbage, a fire escape revealed the side of an apartment complex, long since abandoned from use. There was no one else, which meant the place was probably used by vagabonds, but they had gone elsewhere to eat, the tattered bags the remains of the garbage they had skimmed for food, even if half rotted. Graffiti spewing out words of loyalty and pride to organizations better off forgotten littered the walls.

Sighing he pressed a hand against the stones, before he closed his eyes. His hand took on a golden glow, when it stopped the spark went to work, gathering the necessary information. It wouldn't be long, as he saw the light fade slowly.

The result was dramatic.

The graffiti began slowly yet surely to shift. Letters juxtaposed against each other, before finally they spelled out words. This was what Seth had requested, yet the information given was puzzling. Seth frowned before he spat on the ground beside him and turned to Liliana, "I knew I shouldn't have let that man around my sister..."

"Seth, don't start, this could mean anything. We both know how much of a sore spot he is for you," Liliana retorted.

Behind Seth on the wall were two amalgamations of letters. They would remain there for a bit longer, before slowly fading back into their garbled messages. They however had brought with them, the ire from the depths of Seth’s heart. The deity looked back at the message before he sighed, and gestured at the wall, "I don't do cryptic bullshit like this. I'm rather straight forward. So you tell me how in the hell I'm misinterpreting things..."

Before them on the wall, was the answer to Seth's question. Who do I look for to find Sarah's daggers?


JaRed CEsarIn0

[KOA]

Vladimir stood within a circle training pad with a wooden weapon in hand, his eyes closed as he focused on his meditation. He could feel his tension softly begin to melt away as the sweat from his workout dripped down his brow. Without even realizing it his tongue snaked across his upper lip, licking the salty taste before retreating back through his lips.

He went into this room to clear his head of all thoughts, center himself and his feelings so he could approach the budget crisis with a clear mind. Instead of that though he just kept thinking back to his time with Jensen and how old he was feeling. True, two thousand years of age is a long time, but he never felt old like this before. So he trained with weapon in hand and felt a calmness, a peacefulness with his workout. When he opened his eyes helet out a loud sigh and turned.

Two creatures stood around the room looking to him with deadly intent. One was a dwarf named Hardun Helmcrafter, which caused no end of amusement for Vladimir to pick on. His short temper also made it equally fun for him to poke fun at considering his size. Next to him was a fair Elf maiden named Steena Windsong. She had the most gorgeous white hair, like newly fallen snow, and a cream colored skin that it made a peach jealous. She was also a terrible bitch of a woman and Vladimir’s only sparring partner that could keep up. She had been alive for over four centuries.

“What?” Vladimir said as he gripped his weapon tightly and began a few practice swings. Hardun waddled over to a chair and sat upon it, while Steena merely took off her shirt revealing a fair portion of her skin as she glided over to the wooden weapons resting upon a rack, picking up a thin wooden sabre. She rolled the weapon in her hands and then gently placed it back before settling upon a long dagger and short sword combination. Turning to her boss she smiled sweetly as she entered the ring.

“Hardun claimed he was bored and I haven’t had a chance to spar with anyone in at least two weeks. Melinda is still pouring over the budget for the company and muttering how you abandoned her.” Vladimir cracked a cruel grin.

“So you, being the ever faithful personal servant, told her you would go find me to help her out.” Vladimir chuckled softly. “With no intent to even drag me anywhere.”

“None what-so-ever.” Steena said as she charged him, blade swinging low as she reversed gripped the dagger to protect her exposed neck. Vladimir rolled into her with a two handed blow slamming his weapon down upon her dagger forcing her into the ground as he used all his weight in the attack. Steena’s eyes lit up as she bounced off the floor, but her natural elven agility awoke in her as she placed one hand on the ground as a base and rolled her feet into a roundhouse sweep.

Vladimir felt his center of gravity shift as he lost his footing, and in retaliation he did a horizontal swing to deflect her short sword as he tumbled on the thin mat. Rolling with his momentum he was back up to his feet using his blade in both hands to dart and weave away from Steena’s aggressive assault.

“I’m getting old.” Vladimir commented. “Budgets, cars, meetings, and now I can’t even keep up with you half the time.”

“Age is natural, Lord Sigma.” Steena said coolly as she ducked in low with a half twist, her blades sweeping across the upper thigh. Vladimir used one hand to push her body aside as he rolled away. When they were both at vertical base they paced the edge of the ring looking at each other with wary eyes.

“In our youth we have no experience, no emotions to base everyday life out of. Instead we used base, primal emotions to dictate what we felt was right. In that process we began eliminating emotions that did not fit any common pattern, growing up and evolving along the way.”

There weapons met and Vladimir’s wooden blade snapped into two. He placed his palms up in a martial defense as he used his hands to keep her blades at bay as she poured into him knowing he was weaponless. “In our youth we turn to whatever makes us strong to get us by. Using those strengths we begin to form the person we will be. Some are quiet, some out loud mouthed and boisterous. Others are cowards who couldn’t pick an emotion or strength or were cursed to have none. We learn by our strengths until we grow into adults.”

Vladimir grabbed her elbow and smoothly rolled into her, tripping her backwards and adding weight to his move by slamming his fist into her chest. She pounded onto the mat, losing air as Vladimir rolled holding her arm until he forced into an arm wrench, pulling back and then twisting. Her short sword fell to the ground as she cried out in pain allowing the Last Knight of the Apocalypse to grab a weapon and return to his feet where he began to assault her all over again. She parried his blows on her knees as she crawled backwards, trying to get to her feet but her lord was relentless in his assault.

“So the point is?” Vladimir said, panting a little bit as he kept the pressure on. Steena rolled underneath a wild swing, kicking Vladimir in the back of his knee joint felling him like a mighty tree. He face planted on the mat and rolled as Steena began to leap like a mantis, slamming her blade and tearing up the mat in order to defeat her foe.

At last she pounded him, her dagger inches from his face as he dropped his weapon and held her wrist with both hands. They both looked at each other with fierce determination, panting heavily as they held each other in a stalemate. “The point is when we grow old we no longer have the strength we once had. So naturally we take all our experience and culminate into something far grander creating a new person entirely. Many would admit that they are not the same they were four hundred years ago. Or in your case, two thousand years ago.”

“So we take this experience,” Vladimir said pushing the blade away from him as she used all her might and leverage to push it back.

“And we call it wisdom.” Steena said smiling. “This is why we revere the elders, for they have taken all their experience and turned it to wisdom.” Vladimir nodded in understanding.

Steena pushed with all her might and Vladimir used the moment to shift his head so the blade impaled the mat, He then pushed down with all his strength forcing the dagger deeper into the mat into the wooden floor beneath it as he gripped Steena’s wrist. He kneed her side, placed a boot on her hip and pushed up flinging her over his head. She attempted to twirl back onto her feet, but Vladimir wrenched her wrist and she fell upon her back. He rolled back mounting her as he pulled the dagger up and placed it under her throat.

Steena cursed to him a few elven phrases of hate and spite as she grudgingly lifted her hands in surrender. “Hmm,” Vladimir said lifting himself up. “Thanks, I needed to get that off my mind.”

“Whatever it takes to serve my lord.” she said lifting a hand up to him. Vladimir looked at the hand and laughed at the gesture as he moved to Hardun grabbing a towel, wiping his face of the sweat and tossing it into the dwarfs face as he grabbed another towel to wide his body. The dwarf glared at Vladimir as he laughed at the Halfling, turning to see Steena nip up to her feet as she pushed her lord away from the towels, grabbing one for herself, drying the sweat ff and then tossing the towel to Hardun’s face where they both left. Hardun grumbled about respect as he chased after them, stopping to turn the lights off as they made way to the elevator.

When he reached his inner sanctum he slowly waltzed looking at all the paintings as Steena fixed her shirt before entering his main office. He looked at each experience he had in painted murals and smiled before he began to remember his own personal achievements. He remembered torching an entire continent with dragons, destroying the island nation of Black Archipelago. He slaughtered his entire order for the explicit purpose of training to one day defeat Karel Raven, a man he tortured every waking day of his life, and who tortured Vladimir sobering him up to his own monstrosity over time.

Vladimir had always known deep down inside he was a vile, disgusting person. No matter what just saying he was atoning wasn’t enough. He had destroyed millions of lives for nothing more than a petty whim. He was now actively seeking to become a good person, something he knew he couldn never ever achieve. Seed, the boy from Black Isle that lived in Irrenes, was testment to how Vladimir could never truly redeem himself. He began to ponder if the experience he had could be called wisdom or foolishness.

He shook those feelings aside deciding to dwell on them another day. At the current moment he had a god to hunt and he decided to focus on that for the time being. He had the anniversary in Irrenes coming soon. He would use that time to clear his head. He looked to his watch and read the date in the bottom just above the six. Maybe that trip would be sooner rather than later.

They entered the room as a group as both Steena and Hardun waited for their lord to enter with them. There at his desk was Melinda looking over the budget for the company like a good figure head and she didn’t even look up to see the new people in the room. The dwarf made himself to the bar area, pouring himself some rough Lavinian Ale as he sipped at it gingerly. The elf woman moved behind Vladimir placing a hand on his shoulder patting him before sitting on the couch flipping through a newspaper.

“Hello, Mel.” Vladimir said in his honey-I’m-home tone. Melinda didn’t bother to look up. “Hey, had an idea. For this stupid budget why don’t we fire Garth. He’s been an ass lately, and he’s stolen company funds. The last report he gave to us was over four years ago. We fire him and the we finish the budget. He made a lot for his position anyway…”

“Garth is just a percentage of what we need. You really screwed us over with this new education hall.”

“Can we forget the damned budget, please?” Vladimir begged.

“Look Mr. Immortal!” Melinda said hotly as she looked to him. “Running a business is not an easy thing to do! Maybe back in your day it was different, assigning people to go and kill others, but in this world and time it’s different! We sign people out, we have to pay them. We build something, we have to pay for that. You build multiple projects at once cause your so damned impatient it is going to cost us! Oh, and our bullet shipment was robbed again!” She tossed a report to his feet. “Tell lady Mizami she owes me a private audience. There were hollow points in that one.” She went back to her papers.

“Well, what do you propose?”

“Kill them all!” Melinda shouted tossing the papers up into the air in furious heat. The dwarf clapped for her and Steena just rolled her eyes muttering something about humans.

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” Vladimir joked. Melinda just grinned taking a deep breath.

“Just cut our salaries by four hundred thousand each year and that takes care of the budget for this year. If we keep calm on the projects and restrict it to just what‘s in the budget, we can regain loss assets next year.” Melinda said calmly. Vladimir looked to the other two. Steena nodded in agreement, the dwarf gave Vladimir the look of you-just-kicked-my-puppy.

“Let it be done.” Vladimir said. “Now to matters that really are important.” The elf lifted her hands up saying a word of power as the lights dimmed. The dwarf sat upon the couch next to her with a bit of climbing as Vladimir leaned against his desk. Melinda pushed a tiny button underneath the desk and the central rug moved aside as a projector screen rose up from the ground.

“You know, budget cuts would be a lot better if we didn’t go all out on theatric bullshit like this.” Steena mused. They all laughed.

“Shut up!” Vladimir said ending the matter. He lifted his hand up to a dour looking mug shot of a man in his forties. “This is Amadeus Garthem. He is a cult follower of Mordechi, classified as deeply touched.”

When the immortals spoke of someone being touched it was in reference to how much divine spark they created. To be brushed meant someone just believed in the god’s existence. To be touched meant they were active in the faith of the god in question. To be deeply touched meant they were trying to resurrect the god in this world. As Seth Dahlios had explained the amount of power a god had in the world was based upon the faith he received from his followers. A god with no faithful posed no threats, but a god with many faithful was always a problem.

Mordechi and Lazarus were two gods that didn’t need much to operate much like Seth. Lazarus received most of his faith from his artifacts he left behind, and Mordechi continues to gain support in Otaria and Lavinya. In these cults the people would always preach and practice, but once in a while the faithful would find clues to resurrect their god. That was made possible when enough followers allowed the god to meddle in the affairs of the world to leave said clues.

“How far along is he?” the dwarf asked sipping more of his beverage.

“Sarah Mizami has assured me that he is only in the first year stages. As we all know a god like Mordechi requires far more time than any other god. You need to create seven deeply touched individuals to play host in the roles as the seven traitor generals. These people must also be influential, not some ho hum boring citizen. As far as cake work goes it couldn’t have been any easier.”

“So the catch is?” Steean replied.

“He’s learned Hex Magic,” Vladimir said moving the projection screen along. It showed an image of several people dying with him in the apex of it. “Found some journal of a man I met a long, long time ago. I had hoped Seth was thorough in killing this man, but alas, the bastard lives to this day.”

“Who is it?” Melinda asked, a little nervous.

“Nobody any of you would know. Only Seth would. Majora Zarro.”

“If my memory is correct, the Zarro bloodline was a failed Hex bloodline. To wild an unpredictable.” Steena said educationally. “Naturally why don’t we hire Mr. Waltz for this attack?”

“Because he and I can’t stand each other for very long, and I don’t blame him.”

“Why is that?” Melinda asked, her face alight with curiosity. She loved to hear Vladimir’s stories and he was always careful to avoid the painful ones, but this was a time he couldn’t.

“I killed his brother and sister.” Vladimir said flatly. “Spite really. Nothing more.”

“Oh…” Melinda said looking to Vlad sadly. She knew he had a dark past, but sometimes she forgot in her admiration to him.

“Well then what do you propose?” Steena said shrugging. Vladimir turned the projector to the next screen. It was a picture of Knife’s Edge in Salvar.

“That’s where he is hiding, and I want you to go with me Steena. Melinda needs to stay because of the five banquets our company is attending. Hardun you’ll be attending with her.” The dwarf nodded. He always loved banquets. Loads of free food.

“Then let us pack my lord.” Steena said getting up and walking towards the door. “I shall be ready in fifteen minutes.” Vladimir looked to her with sad eyes.

“Can’t we at least stop to eat?” Vladimir whined. “I’m hungry and want a burger.”

A ball of paper hit him in the back of the head. He turned to Melinda.

“WE JUST FIXED THE DAMN BUDGET!” she cried.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred looked to the Temptress with a fearful eye. He felt silly to even be standing within the entrance to the great hall Sarah and Jared built. Inside was a den of perverse pleasures and dark dealings, and as a golem he was immune to temptation in all its forms. Sarah had tried for years to get a rise out of Wilfred, but he never once seemed to appreciate her looks or curves, same for any other woman who had tried. No, he was above such emotions and he preferred it that way.

He still felt silly and nervous however.

At last he mustered up some courage to enter the doorways to the hall, a flock of woman lavishing him with attentions. Some of the girls looked to him and covered up instantly, knowing him as a teacher. Others just barred it all and invited him over. He kept his face firmly pointed at the ground. Had he the ability to flush his cheeks he would have done so by now.

Aislinn approached Wilfred, her smile charming though the golem couldn’t see it. She stopped in front of Wilfred and he looked to her open toe heels. “Greetings Mr. Waltz.” She said happily. “May I take you to our private rooms.”

“Please.” he begged. Aislinn took him by the shoulder and escorted him down the pathways, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as they walked.

“This really bother you that much?” Aislinn asked. Wilfred sighed.

“Yes and no. I don’t know. I share the blood of my kin inside me. Sharon would not have approved, Dark wouldn’t have a second thought blowing all his money on a girl. Me? I really don’t care. I’m not excited by women or men, or even stimulating reading. I’m just here.”

“Gets lonely doesn’t it?” She said in a knowing tone. Wilfred looked up to her with a kind smile.

“I think that’s the root of the problem. I should look into getting a dog. Maybe one of those ones I can put into a bag for easy transport.” Asilinn laughed leading him behind a VIP curtain and down some dark steps.

The inner sanctum was nothing like the grand bravado of the upstairs entertainment hall. Down here light was kept to a minimum and there wasn’t a neon light to be seen in the entire area. It was more like a den of evil, which was fine for Wilfred. Sarah was a crime lord after all. Aislinn let go of Wilfred’s arm marching over to a corner table and pouring two drinks for herself and for him. She brought it to him standing near the golem before her eyes went wide.

“That reminds me!” she blurted turning and running off towards a closed room. She returned with a large book titled Dawn of Tiberius. Wilfred smiled taking his book back. “It was a great read! The author did an excellent job creating a villain you could get behind. Kane was such a promising character and his development was well planned out. Thank you very much!” Wilfred nodded to her smiling brightly.

Aislinn was probably the only woman Wilfred could say he had a minor crush on. He had thought about her charms, something full of wit and her smile so beguiling it could calm an inferno. Her intellect was also very advanced for her age, which was a bonus for him because he loved to discuss magic and history with her. Sarah made fun of Wilfred almost daily for this, but his crush never amounted to anything more than infatuation with her brain. She could have been a fat ox for all he cared, so long as he had someone to talk to.

“Lady Mizami will be here momentarily. While Sarah has no faith in us girls to run the show we do our best. I must get back to work.” Wilfred nodded waving her off. “Thanks for the book, by the way.” she added softly rubbing his arm. Wilfred felt his blood move quickly around his heart. A curious sensation.

As he watched her leave he shrugged lifting his hand up to his chest and spoke a soft word of power. The book levitated forward towards her and he placed it before her on a table she was walking by. She stopped and picked up the book.

“Keep it my child.” Wilfred said happily. Aislinn looked like she was going to refuse, but she instead grinned devilishly clutching the book to her chest and moving onwards to her duties. With a heavy sigh Wilfred looked around the room.

“Now I’m bored.” he muttered pursing his lips. He zipped his coat up over his face to where it met with his nose. Black Magi were notorious for hiding their faces. It was a tradition that dated back to a time far before his creation. It took a collective effort of Kai Atari and Seth Dahlios to get him to take the straw hat off. In its stead he covered most of his face save his eyes. A black Magi’s eyes were their deadliest weapon. Those who looked into the golden orbs were met with a vision of their own death, screams of agony howling in their ears.

Those eyes nearly got him killed by Cassandra Remi. She wanted them for herself, but Wilfred had grown fond of the eyes he was blessed with and politely declined her. When she didn’t catch the hint he sent her packing with her knives and books of poisons using his Black Magic to scare her off. If only he knew at the time she would become a god. He sighed.

Time had been cruel to the golem. When he learned he was infested by a demon named Gul’avar he had nearly had an identity crisis that caused him his own life. He couldn’t understand the magic he had inside him nor the potential the ritual used to make him would offer. Later he learned that if his sister Sharon or brother Dark were to die there magical power and spirit would increase his own powers. Vladimir Sigma had killed his siblings, and Wilfred sighed realizing he couldn’t avenge them. Vladimir stood before him, sword in hand, a face of hatred etching his features. He remembered that day well.

‘Why didn’t you kill me? I know damn well you could have smote me from this earth in a great conflagration, a blizzard, or some other dark art to kill me. So why, why am I killing you?’ Vladimir had spoke so darkly, so confused. Wilfred looked to him and spoke weakly words that made the Last Knight of Apocalypse stop and think.

There are monsters worse than you. Wilfred thought recalling the memory. Then in Hadia when he died the power of Gul’avar kicked in a resurrected his body and soul with all its power. His new mission was to kill Mordechi, and the golem traveled through hell to find the dread magician. Along the way he met Kai Atari, the first Saint of Swords, and Seth Dahlios. They had found nothing but a dragon for their troubles and Wilfred rotted in hell for many a year.

At last Sarah Mizami had rescued him, explaining to him he had urgent business to attend to in the Salavarian roads near Knife Edge. He made to the location to find Seth Dahlios nearly killed by some Hex Magi, and if not for Wilfred’s intervention the deity of Seth never would have been known to the world.

Then there was Memnar, the most corrupt wizard he had ever known. But that, that was another story all together. All through his life he had fought, been created specifically to fight and kill those of Mordechi. He had learned of the other gods and lent his magical prowess to the other immortals. They all looked to Wilfred Waltz, the most powerful Black Mago’s lord in all history for many solutions to problems.

The truth of the matter was Wilfred talked to Liliana Dahlios for his problems. He was smart, but his brain was scattered far to easily and it was she who put the pieces together. At last Liliana refused to help Wilfred unless he did her a favor. Curious Wilfred obeyed, and he was then stuck with Sarah and Jared doing something called, ’hanging out.’ The concept was simple, but very uncomfortable. The two bickered insistently and Sarah had even tried to use Wilfred as a pawn. He then was told by Liliana to go and make peace with Vladimir. That wasn’t a fun conversation.

All she was trying to do was get Wilfred to fit in. As a golem he never understood the concepts of companionship or friendship. At last, only when Liliana beat him with a shoe, did he understand what friendship was.

It was the power to love your friends and beat them with a shoe.

While he knew it wasn’t something as silly as that, he understood the method to the madness behind the act. She cared so much for Wilfred she would beat him up just to show he wasn’t alone. He in turn picked up his own shoe and hit her with it, then turned to Seth and hit him with it. That didn’t go over well.

He smiled at those memories, feeling a warmth from them. That was friendship. And he knew deep down he had many dear friends. Those friends he made a vow to protect and die for if necessary. He didn’t value his life enough to care. He was a golem after all. But he valued his life enough to know how to protect a friend’s.

Reaffirming his convictions he waited for Sarah, ready to confront Aerith on her worship of Cassandra Remi. Maybe he would hit Sarah with a shoe for being late, he mused.

[Lavinian Pride]

"She's late."

The voice belonged to a man, sitting upon a pile of crates. Upon the side was the comments that the contents were fragile, as well as showing which side to place up. He himself wasn't much to look at, he was light skinned, a sign of coming from the far north. His hair was a dark brown and his eyes a cold gray, a sign of his heritage. He was an Otarian, and while some of the other guys were put off by the fact, they still signed on with him, when he finally did his betrayal.

This would be where they made their stand, and became the new lords of Radasanth.

At least, it would have been, had their victim shown up on time. Even now there were men hiding in the shadows, waiting for the sign. A natural ambush, and once the target of their hubris showed, they would all be rich. After all who would stop them, when the leader of the biggest fish in town was destroyed? Obviously she had smelled the trap, which could have been why she was late. It caused more than its share of apprehension with the plan, after all having been in the crime business as long as she had meant she knew a bad idea when she saw it.

They milled about in the dark, trying to stay alert even as they waited.


~*~

Aislinn stood in the security room watching the cameras. It had taken one of the girls in the security room a few moments to patch into the camera that had been set up. Soon after they saw all the figures, and from there knew what would happen. Sarah was often straightforward when she decided to hunt. Aislinn herself had seen only the aftermath of these bloodbaths, usually because the camera could only keep up with the men, not the vampiric assailant that would be attacking these idiots soon enough.

"May the gods have mercy on their souls. They know not what they do," Aislinn said reverently for a moment. One of the women at the station, a blond looked back at the second in command quizzically before Aislinn pointed at the screen. "These idiots think they're facing a mortal. After all vampires are so few and far between they haven't seen fit to recreate the old clans yet. They live on rumors and myth, because if anyone knew the truth, they would have been rooted out a long time ago. Nowadays Vampires are bed time stories."

"I see, so they lack the knowledge that could save their lives," The blond replied bluntly.

"So to speak, though they stepped in it double if you asked me. Sarah was in a foul mood today, even told me practically to shut up when I pointed out why she was doing this," Aislinn returned.

That got all eyes on her.


~*~

The men waited a few minutes more. Even their leader could smell their nervousness as they continued to wait in the darkness. Soon, their apprehension was answered, as the sounds of boots upon concrete rang out through the warehouse. The circle of light that marked the crates was soon breached, and the svelte form of the Lavinian Succubus stepped into it, without being daunted at all.

"Finally decided to show up?" The man shot forward, even as the woman smiled. She seemed to hide something in that smile, even as he jumped off the crates, "Well it’s good of you to come down, though no girls today? I was expecting some kind of backup for this meeting..."

"I don't need my girls today, I figure we'll talk, and get this over with," Sarah replied firmly. Her eyes lit up a bit in the lights as she strolled forward.

"I see," He frowned hearing those words, but instead moved up to the woman and shook her hand gesturing to the crates, "Got the goods right over here..."

Sarah carefully picked up a crowbar sitting on a nearby crate, before she cracked one open and moved about some of the materials inside. Reaching into the crate she shuffled it about before she pulled out several pouches. Looking at them she raised an eyebrow, "Devilweed and Shiver, that I understand, but I didn't order Mordayn Vapor. It’s too much a risk..."

"Why do you say that? I spent some time hunting it down, especially since the Red Forest is under heavy guard now. Do you know how hard to find a place that isn't under constant surveillance with the mordayn plants? I thought you'd be pleased," The man said gesturing at the small bag.

It looked like a tea bag, and for the most part that was correct. Mordayn Vapor was a powerful hallucinogen that targeted the creative sector, and the pleasurable sectors of the brain. Its potency was such that in order to receive a non-lethal dose, it had to be distilled into a tea which the vapors of had to be inhaled, rather than ingested. It was so potent in fact, that taking more than one hit in an hour was lethal. The problem came that the hallucinating subject was in desperate need to continue to dream, and often tried to do anything to get another dose. This meant that they had to be watched when on the drug, and often the first dose was tossed out almost immediately after being inhaled.

"I don't run a drug den. And I sure as hell don't need drugs that I have to watch my customers to make sure they don't kill themselves," Sarah replied stiffly tossing the drugs back into the crate before she closed the top. Turning back to the man she raised an eyebrow at him before she spoke, "Finally gave into your blood have you?"

He was now standing right behind her, pointing a gun at her head.


~*~

Aislinn looked at the screen before she let out a sigh of disgust. The others were torn between watching the action, and waiting for Aislinn to explain her odd statement. Aislinn herself shook her head before she produced a box from her coat pocket, the same box Sarah had peered into, inside the limousine. Tossing it to one of the girls she opened it before she produced a small silver chain, upon which was a golden ring.

"Jared speaks," Aislinn said definitively before she gestured at the screen. "Even now, Sarah is returning to her old ways, because she knows what that Ring means..."

"What does it mean?" The blond asked looked at it.

"Just watch the show; I'll explain it in a second. I need to figure how best to explain it to you girls. You were blessed in a way, never having to deal with the fallout of this," Aislinn said pointing at the screen.


~*~

"So, playing the big man today," Sarah replied firmly.

"Shut up, I'm sick of you and your superiority complex. We're all humans; we've all got an expiration date. You try to act all smug just because you managed to get to the top, well I got news for you. Being the princess of a crime lord doesn't mean you get to make the grunts take all the risks. That's why you aren't going to get home to your damn club, you're going to be sleeping in the harbor tonight..." The man said. The gun trembled slightly from rage as he hissed out his accusations. Each word seemed to draw more and more mirth from the woman even as she stepped forward, looking at him incredulously.

"Human? Expiration Date? You got some funny concepts there my friend. I don't think you quite understand your position. So I suggest you and your friends just put the guns away, and leave before I show you how much of a mistake you've made. Keep in mind that since you actually pulled this stunt, you have till sundown tomorrow to leave, or it will happen in a casket," Sarah replied as she moved closer.

The stance of the Otarian shifted as he held the gun in two hands and continued to point it at the woman. Her eyes held a glint in them, and he almost didn't recognize it. The fact of it was, it was the look of a predator, who had seen its prey bare it's throat, int he hopes of surviving. He wasn't sure that he liked that look, but he would be damned if he didn't try to rectify that. Pointing the gun at her he managed to sound level, even as his heart was leaping up his throat, "Don't take another step. You have nothing I haven't seen bitch!"

"Try this parlor trick," Sarah replied, before she held up her fingers and snapped.

The room went dark.


~*~

Aislinn shook her head before she said firmly, "Looks like we don't get to see anything. Keep a copy of it, just in case something interesting pops up." The girls nodded before they continued to record the events on the camera, screams pierced the night sending shivers down their spines. A few cries to gods long dead echoed through the room, sending a few shivers down the girls' backs, even as they all looked at Aislinn for the explanation she had promised.

"Jared Cesarino is a blunt man. He tends to make sure there is no way to misinterpret what he's trying to say. Mainly this is because he has no faith in humanity, then again, given his tenure on this world, I could hardly question that assumption, as everyday is just another reason to say humanity is doomed to kill itself out of sheer stupidity," Aislinn said before she waved her hand, "That's irrelevant, and not the point. The point is he makes his words heard loud and clear. He left Sarah over five years ago, and Sarah tried hard to find him, so they could get back to work. It happened after a few arguments about what Jared was doing, and finally he just disappeared one night."

The girls nodded waiting, even as the number of screams began to diminish. Every now and then a gunshot punctuated the night, letting the girls know that Sarah wasn't finished yet.

"Well, time went on and Sarah eventually gave up on Jared. She figured there was only one way to get him to come out of hiding, if he was going to be so stubborn on their argument. She filed for divorce and put it in every paper worldwide for Jared to see. Jared of course didn't respond, which is about when Sarah finally realized what she had done. These two had been together for centuries, possibly millennia, and this spat had killed their marriage faster than anything else," Aislinn explained before she shook her head.

"Jared usually gave that ring to Sarah as a good luck charm. She knew so long as she had it, Jared would come back to her and protect her from herself. I personally don't know why that particular ring, and not his wedding band, but that's just it. It was a message between Jared and Sarah that that ring would ensure his return. Jared's coming back in the near future I guess, and he's saying he'll be protecting her once he gets back."

The girls looked over their shoulder at the screen before one said, "From the looks of things, Sarah doesn't need protecting."

It was at that time the lights came back on.


~*~

Sitting atop the crates was Sarah. The bodies of every man who had been in the warehouse was littering the ground about her, sending the stench of blood into her nostrils it was an intoxicating scent to say the least. She could feel the goose bumps rise on her skin marking the frenzy of blood lust upon her.

She had likened feeding to sex, except nowadays feasting on fresh blood was an orgasmic high even sex could no longer reach.

She carefully licked her blades clean, before she dried them upon her shorts. Looking down upon the piled mass of dead flesh she heard one of the men groan, and let a sadistic smile light up her face. Moving slowly through the corpses she came upon the Otarian who had lead the bold ambush on the vampiress before he managed, "You, bitch..."

"I'd be careful of calling names. I did leave you alive when I had no reason to," Sarah replied playfully. She knelt next to him before she spoke, her voice turning to Ice, "Take a lesson from this you pathetic traitorous sack of flesh. You have until sundown tomorrow to leave this city and never return. If I ever catch wind that my elements overseas are being harassed by you, you will die a slow and painful death. If you are lucky I drain you of every last drop of blood after I kill you. Am I clear?"

The man tried desperately to nod before Sarah smiled and moved to a corpse, beginning to drink from the wounds. A sigh of pleasure left her as she began to gorge upon the bodies, finally stopping when her victim was the only one left. It was at that time she called for paramedics.

[Lavinian Ambition]

A match lit up, sending the acrid scent of burning sulfur into the air, before the match came to a small cigarette. Ironically written, very small in legible words was the words "This is slowly killing me" all the way down to the filter, which was probably only good for one, two drags on the cigarette tops. The fire quickly lit the tobacco before the match was quickly doused by an expert flick of the wrist. Dropping the match, a polished shoe ground the tip into the cement, where all hopes of turning into a fiery inferno were dashed.

The figure then proceeded to walk down the street, moving steadily towards his location. The shoes were polished, pants neatly pressed, which lead to a woven leather belt. Just above the belt was a button down dress shirt, which had a black tie that went down the front, covering the buttons in a fashion sense that seemed to flow. The man was dressed almost completely in black, which made the black jacket, made of leather, and the black fedora hat tie the entire outfit together nicely.

A hand reached up and lifted the hat from atop his head, before with a shake like a horse annoyed by flies sent crimson locks of hair falling down in a cascade. His other hand gently brushed a bit from his face, the annoyance of so many hairs assaulting his face at once drawing a hesitant sigh from him before the hat was affixed firmly.

He moved down the street, heard a sound like thunder in the sky. His gray eyes, one dead and one living looked up, almost amused before he muttered, "Storm's a brew'in, seems like someone pissed off a god..." He stopped after a few blocks and saw a beggar, sitting on a street corner. This was the same beggar that he had seen sitting upon the corner for the past month, and every time he saw the man, he struck up a conversation with him. Perhaps it was an experiment, but he couldn't seem to ignore this particular hobo.

"Is that you Jared?" The voice was scraggly, coming from the mass of thick wool blankets and clothing that hid the old man. Jared had seen his face once or twice, enough to knwo why the man hid it. No one wanted to see the mass of dirt and hair that hid his face. Jared was more than certain on the wrong day, he might have killed the man to put him out of his misery.

Then again, the last one of those days was centuries ago, when he had waged war on Seth, simply to gain the right to die.

Jared knelt next to the man before he chuckled and nodded, "I don't know how you see from under that. I guess I'll chalk it up to lesser magic and call it a day. You alright Frank?"

Frank Horrigan was the result of many bad decisions. Some decisions involved marriages, some involved drugs. The result was a man that only halfway through life, had a soul as old as Jared's. He considered it a bit of heaven, being able to speak to someone who got the concepts he was speaking of. This man understood betrayal, of seeing nothing go right, and he was certain that given enough time, the man would have achieved his goals. All he needed was one last chance, and a bit of luck.

"You know me Jared, ain't got nothing the gods didn't deem trash. Then again, considering the number of times I pissed on them, only fitting I'm the one getting used as a urinal nowadays," A rattled laughter left his lips before he coughed. Jared frowned, concerned, because Frank never got sick. That wasn't his thing, as the hobo had explained. He figured living with rats and eating garbage so long made him immune to the maladies of man. So to hear the man cough made Jared cautious.

Jared rose up before he said, "Got another meeting today. You take care of yourself Frank. Hate to see your streak come to an end..."

"Take care of nothing. Take care of yourself Jared. I don't want to have to kick your ass because you couldn't figure your head from your ass. Damn Lavinian, take care of yourself for once rather than the Misses..." The man shot back, a gloved hand extending from the pile of cloth and pointing accusingly at him.

Jared nodded before he turned to go. Even before he had halfway made the turn he stopped, feeling a tug at the base of his heart. It was minor, something trivial, yet it belied power. Frowning he looked up at the sky once more before he sighed. Reaching into his back pocket he produced a billfold and tossed it into the pile of cloth, "Weather's getting bad Frank, storm's a brewing. Go take a night in a hotel, clean yourself up. Just, get away from here for tonight. I don't think you want to be here at all..."

"Growing a conscience on me pretty boy?" Frank asked even as the billfold disappeared into the folds of cloth. It lurched and surged, slowly lifting up and moving about the man that had been hiding amidst them. The blankets had formed a sort of poncho, and the scarf that covered his face was positioned to hide the toothless maw that marked the old man.

"Bad feeling in my gut. Something big is going down today. Just get out of here, I don't think its a good thing," The red head shot back.

The man nodded before he sighed and the mass of cloth moved down the sidewalk. He stopped looking at the billfold before he said, "Pretty boy, you sure you want to give me all of this?"

"I'm not going to be in hiding much longer, and I don't have a need for money once I'm out. If anyone asks, tell them Jared Cesarino told them to accept the damn money or I'd put them so far in debt they'd need a shovel to dig through to the other side of Althanas to get back out," Jared replied looking back at the man.

The man was gone, leaving Jared at the entrance to the old building. It had been an office space, but when a fire had torn out half the guts, and the Revanian government redrew the zones in the city, the building had basically been condemned. Nowadays it was only good for two things, a hiding place, and tax write off.

Luckily for this place, it served as both.

Purchased long ago by a nameless investor, the building had slowly been worked on, until it had been brought up to at least a passing spec. Even then, the building was still theoretically under construction, but what the government didn't know, was the real use of the building. It was no office space, it was a church.

A Church of Blessed Torture

Such places often hid in plain sight. Cassandra Remi, the mortal who ascended to godhood leaving behind her darkest desires, had often talked of using places of convenience. The fact this office space was near the dirtier side of town made it clear these were purist Cassandrans. That was to say, they hunted only the damned, for their screams were the best. Jared knew a lot about the woman, and the more he learned, the more he needed a shower afterward.

The fact he had been infiltrating this church for over a year meant he had put his pacifistic views to the test. He had somehow managed to be appointed the bouncer of the temple, taking care of unruly members who sought to use their gifts upon each other, or worse yet the clergy. Of course, they only knew him as Jared, because last names were hard to come by in this religion. When everyone was a serial killer, it made it difficult to trust anyone else. Give out too much info, was like spilling blood in a shark tank.

The results were about as grisly too.

Moving through the building, Jared heard the soft clink as the sound of metal upon metal could be heard. He sighed feeling down to the small of his back, where two pistols had been carefully placed. In a crisscross the holsters usually kept the metal from touching, and he had worked hard to keep such firearms incognito. When playing bouncer it helped to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Making sure they wouldn't touch again he moved down the hallway where a group of "workers" were talking about mundane things.

When they saw him they immediately moved out of his way.

"Brother Jared, have you heard?" One of them asked. A young man his eyes held a wild look. He constantly looked on the verge of collapse from lack of sleep, yet he persisted always. Jared doubted that was the case, but his eyes held a crazed look of bare comprehension. His hair was a ratty as anything else, and given time Jared was sure any conversation he gave up was grisly or morbid.

"Nope, why don't you fill me in," Jared replied even as he moved to the door.

"We got them! They're finally ours, and with them, the final obstacle between us and rebirth is complete! Imagine it; the world shall tremble before our mistress, as it should be!"

Jared froze before he looked over his shoulders at the man, "They're already here? Who authorized the magic use?"

"Father Bernard did! It seems he was most eager to get the weapons that killed the Blessed Torturer post haste. Still, the ritual can be completed now, since the last piece of her essence has undoubtedly been freed!"

Jared froze before he opened the door, "That's certainly good news, far faster than I anticipated. Thank you my friend, I shall talk to Father Bernard and figure out where my place in the grand scheme of things is."

Before any of the men present could open their mouths he was through the door and it was slammed behind him. His footsteps echoed down the concrete hallways, since carpeting only held blood, which attracted insects. It was easier to use a hose to clean the hallways, than to clean the carpets every week. The more Jared moved through here the more he wished he could just torch the place. Yet the events that happened today were the last piece in the intricate puzzle that had been the entire reason he came here.

He could only hope he could reach the Father in time, because he was more than certain, he was in for a reunion. The storm and the feeling in his gut only made more sense when considered with the newest facts. Deific vengeance was charging the air, and if Jared wasn't fast enough, everything he was working for would be lost.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred looked up as a door slammed open before him. Dressed in a sporting outfit and tightly pointed ponytail was Sarah Mizami, dark mistress of the Temptress and crime lord of the Coronian region. Sarah had met Wilfred nearly two thousand years ago when she helped defend Wilfred and his siblings from harm as they traveled to Fallien. In return for her services Wilfred opened her eyes to the magic she employs today, her deadly Shadow Magic. Though not to the levels as Vladimir Sigma had them, she was a fearful opponent.

She walked over to the golem with open arms, embracing him and rubbing his back as she sighed lustfully. Wilfred took a whiff of her hair and his own eyes began to glow red as the scent nearly placed him into a trance. Male Black Magi were known for Blood Trances, which always enhanced their spells power. He pushed her back and saw her smile to him, brightly.

“Wipe that grin off your face. I won’t sleep with you.” Wilfred said lightly.

“Oh come off it, Wil,” Sarah waved her hand over her face. “Jared’s coming back anyway. I don’t need a plaything.” Wilfred nodded to her stepping forward.

“A plaything, oh?” He inquired. Sarah grinned darkly as she turned to him, but then her face retorted into terror as she lifted a hand to her mouth.

“Oh my,” she said in a whisper. “I’m sorry Wilfred. I forgot your touchy about that phrase.” He continued to look her in the eyes as she lowered her head in shame. “Really, I am.” Sarah continued lifting her head.

“Drop it.” He said smiling. “And we shall move forward past this little slip up.” He said in his teaching tone. Walking forward he opened a door causing Aislinne to trip forwards into the room with several other girls. “Now that we are all here we can begin. By the way, I’ve been waiting quite a while so I would really like to get this going.” Sheepishly they all filed in and took their places upon the couch or chairs. Sarah sat on the arm rest to a leather throne, Aislinne sitting next to her and smiling to Wilfred. After everyone was comfortable he removed a small notebook from his pocket.

“Is there going to be a pop quiz on this?” Sarah sassed.

“Yes.” Wilfred replied.

“Oh shucks, should have studied.” she grinned. Wilfred turned to Aislinne who chuckled. He smiled to her and shook his head making the woman laugh more. He loved her laugh, like bunnies hopping in a field, he mused. Of course, he had never seen anything like that but that’s just how peaceful she made him feel. Maybe he would ask her out tonight.

“Can you do me a favor and ask the dancer Aerith to join us, she’s a side project I wish to discuss with you Sarah.” Sarah nodded once as Aislinne lifted her sleeve and talked into it. “Excellent. Let us begin. Sarah, your daggers are-” The vampiress lifted a single hand to stop him.

“Stolen, I know. Vladimir gave me the heads up.” She turned to one of her girls nodding towards a bottle of wine. The girl obeyed the silent command pouring her a fresh glass and handing it to the vixen who sipped it gingerly. “I have a detachment of my girls to go get them found.”

“Don’t bother.” Wilfred blurted. Sarah looked to him casually before she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He grew red around the cheeks as if she had just caught his hand in the cookie jar.

“WILFRED!” She screamed tossing the glass to the side as it shattered.

“Seth was in desperate need of a walk and he owed you anyways!”

“I don’t want my brother giving me ANY kind of help!” she chided angrily. Sarah was usually very calm, but all the girls knew she didn’t like her brother one bit. A small seize hostility was all they could do to stand each other. Wilfred gave her a long sigh.

“You know, if I can look the man who killed my brother and sister in the face and say, ‘It’s all forgiven‘, I’d at LEAST think you could co-exist with him.”

“No offense Wilfred, but not everyone has a loving family.” she retorted darkly. “It’s bad enough Liliana pushes her nose where it doesn’t belong, but you as well? Don’t change Wilfred, I like you the way you are now.”

“Alone and unfulfilled?” He countered with his teacher’s tone. A tone he reserved for when a student got too ahead of themselves and forgotten their place. When he used it the intended purpose was to make the student stop their train of thought and think about what they were about to imply.

Sarah stopped her thoughts and then sighed in frustration. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she seethed.

“Then what did you mean?” He replied taking a step forward opening his arms in silent challenge. Now the student was supposed to lose their bearings, unable to come up with a retort.

“I…I…I don’t…That is to say…” Sarah tripped on her own words. Wilfred smiled under his coat flap.

“Thought so, Lady Mizami. Maybe you would be better prepared if you weren’t so brash. Seth has everything under control, the matter is closed.” He turned his back to her and moved to a table lifting a glass and drinking from it. When he turned around he found Sarah standing before him looking him dead in the eyes.

“Don’t ever pull that crap in front of my girls again.” She whispered. “I know I get ahead of myself sometimes but my reputation is not a child’s toy to be taken away and given back when you feel like it. I’m not one of your students.” Wilfred gave her a serious look, letting her know he wasn’t afraid of her threat, but he did lower his gaze moments later.

“My intent was not to belittle your image, but your ego.” He said at last. Sarah lowered her gaze to her feet and sighed rubbing her nose before looking up to him.

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“You are right, Lady Mizami,” Wilfred said loudly. “It was wrong of me to assume things like that, I apologize, I hadn’t known.” It was his way of accepting Sarah’s apology. Now the girls looked to Sarah again, and she winked to Wilfred before turning back with a scowl on her face.

“Whatever,” Sarah said waving it away as if it was nothing. “Don’t mention it again.” Wilfred tried to suppress his mirth. The girls looked to their Lady with awe, standing up to Wilfred was not easy for people to do. It was the natural unease he created by just being a black mage.

“Where the hell is Aerith!” Sarah ordered sitting back next to Aislinne. “None of my girls make their lady wait!” she said it more as a threat to those around her than a fact. Aislinne lifted her sleeve again and spoke into it before touching her ear.

“My lady, it seems Aerith has…called in sick.” Wilfred’s eyes widened.

“What’s wrong Wilfred?” Sarah asked cautiously. Wilfred was not someone easy to spook or scare. TO see his eyes opened like that only meant something was amiss.

“Aerith I suspect is touched by Cassandra Remi. She mentioned in a class that the old ways needed to come back and she knew people who believed what she believed. They tried to conscript me into their ranks but I had to go see Seth and Lilianna. I meant to inquire more later, but the girl didn’t attend class all to often. She knows a great deal about the histories of immortals and gods, to a creepy detail.”

“What evidence do you have of that? My girls are thoroughly screened for taint or religious corruption. You are implying that we missed something.” Wilfred stepped forward opening his little book of notes.

“No offense but I think you did.” he found the page and read from it before looking to her intently. “She described in detail the effects of Twilight. A poison that is meant to kill vampires in moonlight as well as sunlight. So my question to you is why would she use that poison as an example?”

“Because she knows…” Sarah said in a half whisper. “Dammit!” Sarah stood up furiously reaching for the notebook and reading it. “She knew a great deal about the Black Waltz Project, the history of Black Isle’s destruction, dammit it seems she knows something about all the immortals!”

“Individually she seems educated, but together she seems enlightened. Aerith told me she was working tonight, made sure I knew all about her schedule. She practically invited me into this place.” Wilfred lowered his face into his coat so only his hair was visible.

“Aislinne!” Sarah ordered. Before she could make a move Aislinne was already writing down information onto a note bad while ordering another girl to get a car ready. “Good girl!” she cooed patting her on the shoulder. “Kinda happy I didn’t change out of my outfit now.” Wilfred lifted his head out.

“Curses!” He seethed as his ire grew. “She tricked me into coming here.”

“She would of known I had a meeting tonight, I increase security for the girls whenever I am out of the club…One look at the schedule and she would have noticed.” Sarah felt her own ire rise as they walked quickly to the front door.

“I already activated the GPS to give you the fastest route to her dorm room. We will follow behind you two blocks.” Aislinne said very calmly as she walked meeting their pace. “We are ready whenever you call us.” Wilfred felt the cold air wash over his face as he stopped at the curb. Within seconds a small 4X4 jeep rolled to a screeching stop in front of Sarah and Wilfred as the driver stepped out and ran back to get into another set of awaiting jeeps. Sarah climbed into the car and Wilfred buckled himself holding onto the railing as Sarah peeled out of her parking lot.

“She knew of twilight, so she knew I’m a vampire. She described your history so she knows you’re a golem. In depth knowledge…Wilfred this all points to a serious thing.” Sarah said over the wind.

“I know, I’ll call Jensen.” Wilfred said lifting his phone up. He thumbed down to his name and hit the call button lifting it to his ear.

“WILLIE!” Jensen screamed on the other end. “Gods be praised, you never call me!” the sound of something shuffling as well as a moaning sound of pleasure erupted from the phone.

“Heh, screwing Melinda again.” Sarah muttered shaking her head.

“I erm…uh…erm…I…uh…” Sarah turned a corner sharply and Wilfred nearly lost control of the phone. Irritated Sarah grabbed the phone.

“Jensen, Sarah.”

“Hiya baby! How’s the new Kid?” Sarah growled low. It was common knowledge that Jensen back in his day had a morbid crush on Sarah’s child, Kid. He had stalked her, played mind games, and even threatened to seduce the child only to get Sarah out and exposed. For this, Sarah never fully trusted Jensen.

“Take your dick out of Melinda and pay attention you jerk!” she ordered. Jensen hollered in laughter as she rolled her eyes.

“But Vlad is out of town and I get to sleep in the lap of luxury. There’s still plenty of room on this bed for two more cute young ladies, say you and Aislinne?” Sarah felt like breaking the phone in her hand but before she could Wilfred took the phone.

“Listen to me!” Wilfred said seriously. “We have a serious issue we need you to alert the others to.”

“Okay, for you Willy, I will.” The sound of a girl’s protests was in the background. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“We have a very serious problem. It seems someone is deeply touched by Cassandra Remi.”

[Lavinian Ambition]

He ran down the hallways, hitting door after door, only to tear them open. Each scab was left open to bleed as he made his way to the sanctuary. Few cultists were in the building tonight, which was both a blessing and a curse, Jared's timetable had been moved up almost a full week, and the fact that he could almost predict Seth's appearance in the next hour meant he had to get to the high priest of this particular sect.

That was, until he opened the doors, and saw the blood.

It covered the walls, bodies thrown about as a child tosses away a toy it was bored of. The toys were left crumpled, in a sick game that only an immortal would play. A few groaned, the last vestiges of their energy fading, as their divine spark was diminished, draining their Blessed Lady of what pitiful energy they had given. They weren’t arrayed in anything resembling a pose that indicated torture. No, this was no blood orgy for the church…

…this was a massacre.

The room was absolutely quite, leaving no imagination for how swift the act had occurred. Jared was more than certain they were praying their supplications to Cassandra, when the attacker came in and began the slaughter. The body count alone told of magic, or supernatural ability, perhaps both. He could see trails of blood where bodies were flung back, or dragged to their current positions. Not a person was left standing in the battle’s wake.

Except for one man, who was standing in the center of the room, holding Father Bernard by his throat.

The High Priest of the Blessed Torturer looked at him and managed hoarsely to command him, "Please, Brother Jared, do something! This man has assaulted the temple!"

A sigh left Jared's lips before he drew his guns. He moved casually up before he managed, rather irritated, "You know, I manage to enter a place without slaughtering everyone I encounter, makes me wonder why you can't." A casual twirl saw them come to a halt with him gripping tightly and pointing the both of them at the intruder of the sanctum.

A sound of mirth left the man's lips before he shook his head, revealing the steel grey eyes of the Demi-god. He looked over his shoulder at Jared before he managed, "Fancy meeting you here. So, when did you decide to fight for the other team?"

A low growl left Jared's lips before he said tightly, "You of all people have no right to judge me Seth. Or should I say Selios? I forget which you decided to be for this massacre..."

"Funny," Seth replied before he tossed the priest at Jared. The red headed Lavinian cursed as he braced himself to catch the high priest, who was screaming in terror. The collision knocked over the lesser immortal, before with a groan he saw one of the guns spiral off into the blood stained darkness. It was at that time Seth continued his sermon, "I think I have every right to judge. You're perhaps the biggest hypocrite I've seen Jared. You don't get your way; you try to destroy the world. You get your way; you leave my sister and join the very entity you tried to destroy. For that alone, I should purge you with the rest of this cult..."

Shoving the priest off Jared stumbled to his feet growling. He pointed the gun at Bernard, much to the priest's dismay before Jared hissed, "At this range, it’s hard to make even a rubber bullet non-lethal, I don't suggest you run." He then looked at Seth through his dead eye, refusing to let Seth see how annoyed with the situation Jared was, "As for you asshole..." Jared then loosened the top button of his shirt and pulled his tie loose, giving him a bit of freedom to keep cool and fight, "I don't get why you pull a stunt like this. Are you still trying to redeem a name already universally regarded as the boogie man of Althanas? Are you that desperate to be accepted? That's a pretty big ass to kiss, even for you..."

Seth glowered at Jared before he snapped his fingers. The priest below his feet gurgled before his head jerked to the side. The result was a snap that saw the life fade from the man's eyes. Jared knelt beside him and checked his pulse before Seth replied, "Oops, looks like I played too rough with him...I meant to slap you..."

The Lavinian Firebrand slowly rose from the corpse, before he pulled a clip out of his coat. Carefully pulling back on the top of the gun he released the clip latch, and saw the clip of rubber bullets slide into his other hand. Carefully putting that clip into a pocket he slid the fresher clip into the gun before he slammed the chamber shut, pushing the first bullet of the clip into it. Seth continued to watch with interest, even as Jared carefully shrugged, seeing the trench coat slide down off his shoulders. In a practiced maneuver Jared tossed the gun up and took off the coat, tossing it aside, before he caught it.

"What are you going to do, pacify me to death? We both know you don't have the balls to attack me with lethal force Jared, and even if you did, you couldn't kill me," Seth finally shouted out. Jared continued to prepare by tilting his head one way, using his hand to push his head just a bit farther and feeling the stress in his neck release with each pop of the vertebrae there. He then did it with the other side before he carefully twirled the gun one last time, and brought it to a halt pointed right at the deity.

"I always wondered what would happen if I fired these at a god, guess it’s the Day of the Open Hand come early. I get to find out..." Jared mused aloud, almost to himself. Seth quirked an eyebrow before Jared carefully squeezed the trigger in a calculated motion. His aim was only a bit low, such that the jerk of the squeeze brought the bullet right on target, the center of Seth's chest. The deity seemed put off by the sudden violence from the Lavinian, and moved to shield himself with his hand, before a blur of motion appeared before him.

Soon an explosion ripped through the area, as the bullet collided and the two parts of the concoction mixed by the cap in the tip of the bullet breaking. The fire burnt through the area, and for a moment it seemed nothing laid in the wake of the explosion. Before the slender form of a woman in her thirties, bearing her sword in a defensive posture in front of Seth could be seen. Her face held a look of restrained fury, and possibly even outrage. After all, she of all people knew Jared wasn’t the type to play around with lethal toys.

"It’s so nice of you to join the party Liliana. Should have known I couldn't take on ass hat without you sticking your nose in it..." Jared muttered almost sarcastically.

[KOA]

The Jet soared over the nation of Salvar, the cold climate still taking its toll upon Knife’s Edge. In history the city of Knife’s Edge was used as a bastion to hold off the demon hordes from overwhelming those who opposed them. Becoming a killing field it was soon recognized that the nation state of Knife’s Edge was the most impregnable fortress on all of Althanas. No army could stand before their walls and survive. War Machines litter the borders to the city as a separate wall section was designed to be the outer defense with all the newest technology to keep up the tradition of helping the nation repel others.

The jet screamed to a halt along the pavement as Vladimir awoke from his slumber. Steena still had her head set on talking to the communications tower about where to park the jet. He shifted around cracking his back and neck before yawning loudly stretching his arms out to the heavens. A perk of owning the biggest empire in the world was the clearance to enter many of the nations without in depth security checks. He grinned wildly looking at the lethal weapons along the walls of the airport, like teeth in a hungry lions mouth.

“Those are our MK. II’s aren’t they?” Vladimir pondered loudly.

“Yes they are.” Steena said not bothering to look. “They ordered Fifteen of the new Wo Dao MK. III’s for the outer walls in the north.” Vladimir was pleased. It was common knowledge that the Knight’s of Apocalypse Enterprises owned a military research and development company that they closed four years ago. What was not so commonly known was that they still were open and still selling weapons to the highest bidders. Knife’s Edge was his best buyer.

The two exited the aircraft and stepped out into the cold where a car was waiting for them. As they got in Vladimir looked to his watch and sighed deeply. Steena looked to him and checked her own watch.

“You’ve been quiet all trip.” Steena said lightly.

“I have a lot to think about.” Vladimir countered.

“About what? Clearly not the budget.” she joked. Vladimir smiled. Steena lifted a hand to her chin rubbing it softly before she pointed to him. “You going to ask Melinda out?” she inquired. Vladimir gave her a stark look as he snorted in mirth.

“Yeah right. She’s a cute girl, looks a lot like Serra, but my heart only belonged to her.” Vladimir relaxed his pose looking out to the edges of the mountains they were driving by. He looked to his watch again sighing deeper. Steena looked to him, the gentleness in his eyes. Normally he was always agitated, upset and cranky. Yet today, today was a softer Vladimir. Less hostile. She knew why immediately.

“It’s the anniversary isn’t it?” She mentioned lightly. Vladimir nodded. “We have business to attend to first.” she warned.

“Can you handle it?” Vladimir said weakly. Steena’s eyes narrowed darkly.

“No, Vladimir. This is your promise to him to keep, not mine.” Vladimir sighed deeply again. Steena lifted herself up from her seat and sat next to Vladimir. “Why, why the hell does it bother you so much? You made a huge stink about stopping gods and destroying them then you don’t want to do the work yourself.”

“It’s the other promise I made. To…to his friend.” Vladimir said looking down upon his hands.

“You immortals and your gods be damned promises.” She looked to her watch. They stood staring at each other for a few oments before she sighed. “It will take time to mobilize the Knights. You can get yourself a drink, BUT BE QUICK about it.” Vladimir looked up to her with a big smile.

“Thanks, I really mean that.” Steena became wide eyed.

“Very uncharacteristic of you, Mr. Sigma.” Vladimir lowered his smile into a vile grin. “Ah, much more pleasant.” they laughed as Steena took out her phone making a quick phone call to their department in this region.

Vladimir lowered his hands behind his head as he thought about where he was about to go and the thought made him smile wider.

“Always so soft this time of year. I swear if I don’t let you go you’ll be useless anyway. Driver, please stop the car.” The car rolled to a stop and Vladimir lifted himself up and out.

“Be back here in exactly two hours.” He said calmly fixing his scarf.

“I’m doing this only because the cave is nearby.” She warned.

“I won’t tell anyone you have a heart Steena.” She laughed at that as the car sped off. Vladimir lifted his coat up and wrapped his arms across his chest as he walked forwards. He walked through the forest, a small clearing untouched by the tirade of battle all the way deeply near a small canyon pass. Many caves like this existed around Althanas, small networks for Barrows and tombs. Yet some of them had more practical uses. Most were hidden entrances long sealed away to the demon realm of Hadia, which is the way most the demons prefer it. But some were portals, teleportation system to travel from one place in Althanas to another.

This particular one Vladimir was heading to was special. It was the only portal that could connect to a small little town. This little town was home to many wonderful people, people Vladimir swore to protect. This town also was special because it didn’t exist in Althanas persay. It existed in a time loop, a perfect bubble surrounding only the town. The inhabitants in the town didn’t know that by simply living there they were in a sense living forever, even though it was the past. Vladimir could walk into this town and visit the old world of Althanas, without cars, computers, and guns. Without gods being hunted, back to a time when he walked the world as a traveler.

For this reason alone he didn’t tell the other immortals about it save one, Wilfred. The golem never made use of the portal however. But about this time each year Vladimir made himself a promise to a gentleman by the name Sheex Deltin, to come back once in a while, remember an old friend, and more importantly, remember he is human.

The runes along the cave wall were faded and old, but Vladimir could still feel the strength of the magic emanating from them. He looked at the portal and with a hesitant hand he lifted up a small cup. “I could really use a drink.” He muttered walking through the portal.

The world’s cold air was replaced by a comfortable breeze, a cool fall day. He removed the scarf and let it flow out from his finger tips as he opened his jacket. Taking a few steps forward he exited a small patch of forest and stood there smiling.

Before him was not a civilization of industry, but a peaceful, small quiet town with white picket fences and happy faces. In the center of the town was a huge inn with a restaurant and a bar added onto it. He saw a familiar face walking with his friend in a patrol as the two guards kept the peace in the tiny town called Irenes. Vladimir stepped forward into the town, feeling the old air, the clean air, of the old world wash up into his nostrils. It was intoxicating compared to the industry he was used to, but he let it slide.

Like he told nobody of the portal, he told none in the portal of the outside world of the future. This was needed to prevent people from knowing anything about their future, which could be damaging thus changing the course of history. Vladimir made great pains to make sure that never happened. The only soul who knew of the special powers in this place was Sheex, which was the name of the tavern.

Walking into the bar he removed his coat hanging it up and sitting on the bar. It was mostly empty, save a few patrons resting weary feet as a charming young woman played a piano in the corner. She had a score of other instruments near her and the smile she held was the most heart wrenching smile he had ever seen. It was so innocent, so happy, so…perfect.

“She’s married, bud.” A voice said stently from across him. He recognized it immediately and smiled deeply to himself.

“So am I, bud.” Vladimir taunted. “Can’t stop me from looking, however.”

“No, it can’t, but if your mind wanders towards her it’s your funeral pal. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Vladimir turned giving Sheex and wry grin. The wanderer looked to the man before him and sighed deeply. “Oh gods it’s you.” he spat. Vladimir chuckled at that.

“Come on, Mr. Deltin, I must have a little fun before everyone shows up to tell me I can’t.”

“Well if your idea of fun isn’t causing others pain and misery maybe we would allow it.” Vladimir shrugged.

“It’s not to everyone’s tastes.” he said as Sheex grabbed an empty shot glass and poured him a drink. “What is this?”

“I call it the Saint of Swords! You see Regal and Troy had trained my son to fight, and with so many different sword styles I became inspired to try it. It’s got the brutality of rum, the grace of vodka, and a tad bit of Scotch for age.”

Vladimir looked to the drink and gave it a quick sniff. It smelled terrible. None the less he lifted it up and shot it down. When he slammed the glass back on the table he felt his heart wrench and chest go on fire. He tried to open his mouth but the drink reached deep inside him and held him at sword point. Eventually he was able to break free from the hold and cough violently disturbing the Piano player’s music.

Weakly and with tears in eye he looked to her. “Sorry Nami, keep playing please.” he coughed a bit more as she continued on while Sheex was leaning against the back counter, pointing to the last knight of apocalypse and laughing wildly.

“HAH! The legend of Sheex Deltin continues! Slayed me the Last Knight of Apocalypse without even batting an eye!” He turned to a fair looking woman with red hair and deep emreald green eyes. “Hey honey, what do you think?”

“I think this deserves a special treat for you tonight! Maybe a little dress up for my hero!” She called back laughing. Sheex jumped in the air lifting his fist high.

“HELL YEAH!” he shouted landing on the ground. Vladimir just shook his head as he watched Leila walk forward, her hand coming to a stop at her hips.

“Well what do we have here? More gutter trash from the streets?” She tsked her tongue. “Sheex darling, maybe we should call Regal to dispose of him.” Vladimir lifted his head up smiling to her.

“Ah but Leila, he can’t stop me. No mere mortal can hope to stand up against an immortal.” Sheex laughed.

“Guy could. Kid has gotten so strong. I bet he could take you and Karel on if he was still with us.” Vladimir turned his head in interest to Sheex. “To bad Guy would never do it. Unlike the previous Saint of Swords, my son actually avoids fights.” Vladimir nodded to himself at the comment.

“Already off to a great start. Look, speaking of Karel…” Vladimir said weakly scratching his head.

“I figured that’s why you came. I already sent Guy to get Rebecca for you.” Vladimir nodded to Leila’s words looking at the empty glass. “It means a lot to her that you come, even though your busy.” Vladimir waved a hand to her.

“Think nothing of it. Karel and I have…an interesting history. I can’t stay long I’m afraid, the second she is here I must be going.” The door to the tavern opened a beautiful brown haired woman entered gliding towards the bar. She was dressed in a simple traveler’s outfit, brown vlince pants, black silk shirt with a matching black jacket that ran down her back like a cape. She looked to Vladimir and her ocean blue eyes had a hint of warmth and sadness to them.

“It’s that time, huh?” Rebecca Priam said lightly. Vladimir nodded. “Then let’s get going.”

[Lavinian Pride]

The jeep streaked down the streets of Radasanth. Occasionally Wilfred would hang onto the handlebar for dear life as he could swear Sarah was trying to kill him with the speed and grace she moved the vehicle. She wove through traffic as effortlessly as she casually flicked a few stray strands of hair from her face. Even as the college loomed in the forefront he couldn't help but finally speak, "Perhaps we should go a bit slower?"

"Not going to happen will. She could be torturing someone right now and we gave her a two hour head start," Sarah replied. Her emotions were still running wild, but she tried hard to keep it behind a stoic mask. There was the elation of Jared's imminent return, the joy of no more lonely nights, the rage at having been fooled by Aerith, and the guilt of having it done so easily. Even as the jeep slid to a halt in the parking space outside the girl's dorms, Sarah was already putting the car in neutral and locking in the parking brake. The abrupt jolt of the stopped inertia sent Wilfred almost headfirst into the dashboard, were it not for a timely placed hand on his chest.

"Let's hope this speed was worth it then," Wilfred said, even as he stepped out of the jeep. He was half tempted to kiss the ground no longer going to take for granted his ability to walk about it. However, he held on even as he finally spied the license plate hanging on the front and back of the car.

Fyrbrnd

Frowning he looked over at Sarah, "Isn't this Jared's jeep?"

"He won't be back yet, and even if he was he would understand," Sarah quipped before moving to the back of the jeep. Two more girls got out, even as the other jeep finally got into position. Parking next to Sarah's Aislinn and the other three women got out. The younger woman was already on the phone and talking before she sighed and handed the phone to Sarah.

"School board doesn't want to believe there's a serial killer on their campus. Care to explain to them how stupid they are?" Aislinn said, letting a bit of frustration show on her features.

Sarah grumbled before she snatched the phone from Aislinn's hand and spoke, "This is Lady Sarah Mizami. Perhaps I can help you understand what the hell is going on."

"We know full well what you're proposing. And while we may have magic and religious majors here, there is nothing wrong with the presence of a Cassandran priest in our dorms. Saying a few prayers to the God of Torture means nothing, it’s only if they perform the rites," A male voice said firmly.

"I'm going to go slowly, let the words pickle themselves in your mind, and speak in small ones. So you're sure to understand. Cassandra is a threat no matter who worships her. Yeah, saying a prayer every now and then is one thing, but this woman was showing advanced signs of worship. You know, the type that would target other students and sacrifice them in a few hours of ritual torture. This woman infiltrated one of my friend's classes and displayed knowledge of the old ways above and beyond a casual interest, or even a modest hobby. She infiltrated my club and just got the only two who could identify her as a threat, tied up with themselves for two hours," Sarah replied as she moved across the school grounds heading straight for the dorm rooms. Wilfred accompanied her even as the girls followed, unsure of what exactly to do. Aislinn merely kept them up to pace and assured them their tasks would be known soon enough.

"So what are you saying? One of my students is being tortured right now?" The man said incredulously.

"If we're lucky they're still alive. More likely? Dead. You better pray to whoever you believe in that it's not the latter. A god gets faith based on the rituals performed in their name. If this woman did perform a ritual, she might do it correct, in which case the amount of faith that god gains, would be enough to hint at how to get her back to affecting this world. I did not spend eight centuries burying that information, just to have some snot nosed twat ruin it for me now. Now, you're going to start a campus wide search using the police, while I check her room, because if we don't catch her, she WILL kill again and again until that hint pops up," Sarah responded and before the man could object the phone was snapped shut and tossed back to Aislinn.

"Stirring speech as always M'lady," Aislinn quipped.

"No sass now Aislinn, I'm not in the mood..." Sarah snapped. The other girls looked at Aislinn who remained stoic. Even as they walked down Sarah seemed tenser than she had after receiving the box. They hit the elevator, and moved in as a group, finally Sarah spoke, "I wish Jared was back already, he'd have had that guy preforming a nice song and dance routine by the time I had hung up. He'd also know what to do about the scene if the ritual was preformed."

"I don't think he'll be back anytime soon M'lady, but if its worth anything I was trained by Jared moderately to be support for him at the scene of a ritual," Aislinn offered.

"That's right, before he left he was going to make you a team lead so he could have more free time," Sarah mused. Times were different then, very different. They had felt their jobs and lives were getting in the way of alone time, and so Jared and Sarah were looking into ways to free it up. Jared was beginning to step off their investigation team slowly yet surely, and Sarah was trying to be better about letting the girls run the club themselves. It was part of the curse of Immortality, as a creature of lust Sarah had appetites that Jared fulfilled, and Jared being stuck eternally at the ripe age of 23 wasn't exactly unwilling to do so either, his libido locked in.

She shook her head to clear her musings before she sighed. Aislinn then raised an eyebrow, "Wishful thinking again?"

"Yeah, let’s just hope that it comes true. Alright, if things turn to worst case scenario, I'll let you take the lead on this one..." Sarah ordered before she leaned against the back of the elevator.

The doors opened and immediately Sarah felt the goosebumps on her skin, even before she registered the scent. She looked at Wilfred who seemed in a state of agitation. They looked at each other for a few seconds before they said in unison, "She killed."

It didn't take long for the other girls to smell the blood.

[Liliana Ambria]

"What in the seven seals of Sintyre are you DOING Jared?" Liliana finally managed, even that seemed thick and forced from his lips. The Lavinian in questions was merely pointing the gun at Liliana, keeping her locked in place. She couldn't fathom why he would fire an explosive bullet at Seth, let alone what he was trying to accomplish. This wasn't like Jared at all, and if time had changed him this much, perhaps it was time to let him die.

"I'm trying to protect the mortals from the big bad demi-god. You know, like said Demi-god was supposed to be doing against the Gods of the Seraphs?" Jared returned. Seth shifted irritably behind Liliana, and she was sure he was going to say something.

So she cut him off instead, "What the hell are you talking about Cesarino? These cultists stole Sarah's daggers and were causing an imbalance."

Jared finally stumbled back a step, laughing hysterically even as he tripped over the corpse of the Cassandran high priest. His laughter echoed eerily through the room even as he continued to laugh, finally he recovered gripping his stomach from the sheer exertion. When he managed to recover he spoke, "Are you kidding me? This cult was a threat? You really need to work on your ability to sense Faith Liliana. These guys couldn't light a deistic light bulb, let alone fuel Cassandra. They were a lip service cult, just a bunch of gang bangers and killers who though that they could worship Cassandra. I'd liken it to a trade show than any real religion..."

"Then why are you here?" Seth finally managed. Liliana could hear the semblance of control in his words again, even as she stood a bit looser, the tip of Angel Slayer set only a sparse inch from the floor. Even then, she held her arm taut ready to raise and deflect another explosive bullet from the insane Lavinian. Jared was acting even crazier than usual, and perhaps the stress of being one of the seven seals of the apocalypse was getting to him. It jerked Liliana's heart a little to see someone she had thought sane slowly sliding into destruction.

"I'm hunting the Saint of Killers," Jared finally replied. As he got up he moved through the room, finally locating his other gun. Switching the clips back out, he waited for the obvious question.

"So, where is he?" Seth asked finally.

"Don't know, and you killed the only guy who met them. Thanks Seth, at least when I rampage through a place, I leave the guys alive for interrogation later," Jared quipped.

Liliana turned to Seth and placed a restraining hand on the deity. She could feel his ire rising at Jared's baiting taunts, and she knew that was what Jared wanted to see. Seth and Jared never got along, not since Seth destroyed Lavinya and forced Jared to pick up the shattered remains and take them to safety. Jared's sister had been a casualty of that fight, and Jared placed her blood directly on the Lavinian Demon's hands.

But the mention of the Saint of Killers was something else entirely. The Cassandran priests had very little use for titles, but they had one held in reverence. The Saint of Killers was Cassandra's tentative link to the world, the only priest whose rituals would actually strengthen the god. Atop this, they were afforded Cassandra's memories and knack for torture, allowing them to reap the maximum faith possible. It was said the Saint of Killers could hold a person in a state of absolute pain for days perhaps even weeks, letting their song of pain join the great hymn, the Requiem of Insanity.

Jared hunting that bastard made more sense than anything else. If he was infiltrating Cassandran cults, he certainly had a good idea of what they were doing. Jared however could see Liliana process this, even as Seth seemed to frown, waiting for Liliana's judgment on the situation. Finally the red head spoke up, "There are exactly seventy three cults to the blessed torturer. Of them only ten are faithful enough to produce a Saint of Killers, and of those ten, only one has. I was hoping the network between cults could get me an idea of who it was, since getting anything out of a Cassandran is like dragging Seth to a family function. This guy however, supposedly knew the Saint of Killers, and was trying to build another cult for them to reap faith from. Too bad you beat the Saint to the punch, they were going to be killed after they performed the ritual to release Cassandra's spark from Sarah's daggers..."

"Wait, what?" Seth asked frowning.

"It was simple; the dregs of society have connections and ties. They use those ties to get the daggers, in the hope for a chance to kill again. The high priest gets them to produce the daggers from the museum in Radasanth, and then offers them to the Saint of Killers, since they produce the best musical accompaniment for the Requiem. Cassandra gets closer to being freed, and at the same time gets to listen to the song for quite some time-"

"Giving her more than enough divine spark to reveal how to pull her back now that she's free," Liliana finished.

"Even though you're nosy, I can't name another person who knows more about religion than you," Jared replied before he holstered his guns. Moving towards the altar he slipped behind it, causing Liliana and Seth to frown. Liliana knew Jared was only taking a pot shot at her to annoy Seth, and let the comment slide. Jared actually confided more to Liliana than anyone else, including his problems with Sarah and being forced into the role he seemed to be performing flawlessly.

Jared however was at work as he felt about the wall before he grinned, "Stupid cultists, can't even hide a door properly..." Seth moved forward the help Jared only to get a restraining hand from Liliana. He frowned looking at the Avatar before she leaned forward and spoke;

"He's already on edge, don't help, and just let him calm down. He needs this right now."

Seth grumbled something about what Jared needed before the Firebrand finally found the latch and opened the room. He moved casually through the door before he clucked his tongue in revulsion, "No wonder Bernard wasn't trusted with the big cults, he was too material..."

The room was ornately decorated, possibly with the money from hundreds of tortured victims. The bed was posh and covered with satin sheets, the floor a deep shag rug left to keep it warm. There was a fireplace cleverly installed to possibly vent to a smokestack. All in all it was rather posh, but ultimately not in keeping with the Cassandran faith. Sitting in the corner, was the prize however, where a small safe was locked and left.

Liliana and Seth moved into the room before they looked at each other. Had either of them caught a priest pulling this crap of their faith, they would have been set in balance quickly, possibly by living the other way for at least an equal time. Even still Liliana spoke up, hiding her revulsion at the posh circumstances, "You want help with the safe, or do you have it?"

Jared crossed his arms as he began to think about what he wanted before he shook his head and spoke up, "Yeah, go ahead, I don't have the tools to crack a safe today. Not since I put my stuff in lockup a couple of years ago..."

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred shuddered in ecstasy as he smelled the blood in his nostrils. Sarah took a few steps forward in front of her girls, looking around as she opened her mouth slightly letting her fangs get a piece of the smell. Wilfred remained on the same spot, trying his best to let the trance take him.

“Sarah…” Wilfred said shakily. “Sarah I smell a lot of blood…” he spoke out in one breath like a passionate lover. The vampiress turned cautiously to Wilfred as he lifted behind his head and pulled out a small hood lifting it up and over his face. Nothing save his golden orbs could be seen behind the hood, a tinge of red masking in the corners.

“You should stay in the elevator, Wilfred. I will call you if I need you.” Wilfred nodded as Aislinne looked to Wilfred. The golem only lifted his hand to her cheek, gently pushing her gaze away from his face.

“A blood trance is not a time to look a Black Mage in the eyes.” he spoke seductively, pushing her away with the fondest touch. Aislinne obeyed the golem as the girls moved out, lifting up pistols and rifles as they knocked on dorm rooms. “Nobody should be in tonight, this was the Scorpions big game against the Savion Rangers.” Wilfred felt his hand lift up to the elevator door control, but he flexed it back instinctively chuckling to himself.

“Why don’t you go downstairs and wait for Jared,” Sarah said calmly. “Go get fresh air.” Wilfred looked to her and lowered his eyes into a glare. As an immortal, she was immune to the effects of his deadly eyes, but she still got a creepy vibe from him. Without lifting a finger the elevator doors slammed shut, wind howling as the trolley moved him back to the first floor.

The doors opened and Wilfred nearly passed out as he dropped to his knees from pleasure. Without the scent of blood in the air he started to feel his mind tingle a bit as he watched carefully the lines of reality solidify back into sharp taste. He softly took a breath of fresh air before he lifted his hood back down and stood up.

“Whoa, you look like shit.” Jensen said from the front of the dorms. In his arms was Melinda, half dressed as she looked to Wilfred with a curious eye.

“Blood trances have that effect on Black Magi. Don’t worry, I still have enough resolve to fight the effects off quickly.” Jensen shrugged indifferently.

“Not like I care, but maybe for the little one’s sake. Melinda, be a sweetheart and buy me a soda.”

“Give me a dollar.” she said calmly.

“Like I carry money!” Jensen howled in mirth as he slapped her on the butt and pushed her away, gliding towards Wilfred. She gave him a dark look before moving towards the vending machines. The golem kept his eyes on the eccentric immortal as he stopped an arms throw away from the construct.

“Now, I may not be as bright as I used to be, but if memory serves me right the more power a black magi has, the more blood is needed to induce the trance. As a Black Magos Lord, you would need a serious cache of blood to even feel a tingly fart sensation. You looked like you took a ride courtesy Sarah‘s wonder drugs back there.”

“Lot of blood.” Wilfred said academically. “Why are you here anyway. Didn’t we just call you?”

“The Knight’s of Apocalypse have many fortresses. I just happened to be at the one closest to the college. Remember, I was once a champion of the horsemen. Tracking you two immortals is like stabbing a dead fish in a barrel. Smelly, and easy as hell to do.”

“Of course, how silly of me to ask.” Wilfred sassed. Jensen twirled on his feet and leaned his back against the golem, looking up into his eyes and smiling wildly.

“I love your spunk. We should spar one day. I’ll get a whole field of cows to bleed out their anus for you so you can go all out and shit. It’d be a blast.”

“It wouldn’t be a contest.” Wilfred said flatly. Jensen gave him a curious look.

“That so?” he whispered. The mage looked down upon the immortal, challenging him with his eyes. “Shit your creepy!” he said backing away sliding one arm around Melinda’s waist and pushing himself against her back, smelling her hair as one hand grabbed the soda and the other lifted to her chest.

“Behave yourself!” Melinda shouted trying to push his hand away.

“Willy was being mean to me!” Jensen pouted. “I need to hide myself in your bosom to keep me safe!” He twirled her on the spot and dived into her breasts. Her knee lifted up into his crotch and the immortal went down like a stack of bricks, whimpering in pain as the soda fell to the floor. His tongue darted out, licking it off the carpet making Melinda grunt in disgust.

“Have you called Vladimir yet?” Wilfred said stepping up to the head of the Knight’s.

“He’s…indisposed of Steena said.” Melinda looked to Wilfred with a careful eye. “Mentioned something about an anniversary he had to attend.”

“Oh,” Wilfred said looking out to the moon. “That makes sense. The time of year is right.” Melinda stepped forward sheepishly as she looked out the window next to the golem. He turned his eyes to see her, a look of expectance on her face. “I’m guessing you don’t know what that means.”

“I was hoping you would tell me.” Melinda admitted. He shook his head before looking backup.

“Vladimir Sigma and Karel Raven are two names associated with death and destruction. For those two, merely destroying their own lives wasn’t enough. They destroyed the lives of many people, my own included. Yet despite the atrocities they committed to each other they both somehow, someway found a way to stand side by side to atone together for their sins.

They were the first of all of us to start killing gods, openly defying them to say. Lazarus, the Deific Artificer, was responsible for the crimes both men committed. They agreed that together they needed to defeat him, and prevent the contest they had from ever happening again.”

“So what happened?” Melinda asked.

“Karel died.” Wilfred said sadly. “He sacrificed his life so that Vladimir may live. This is about the time he died, so Vladimir goes to see Karel’s grave and remember him.” Melinda looked up to the stars and then with a large sigh she moved into Wilfred.

“He never told me that. He never tells me anything.” Wilfred gave her a kind smile.

“Vladimir has his own demons like the rest of us, but unlike the other immortals he feels that just saying thew ords, ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough. He makes it his life to change the wrongs that he committed in the past.”

“That has to be like, four thousand or so years ago!” Melinda said heatedly. “Why the hell does he keep beating himself up for it all time? I’m sure by now the people would see he’s tried his best to change and forgive him.”

“They forgave him already.” Wilfred said offhandedly. “He still feels the need to atone.” Wilfred lifted one hand up to his chin. He gave her an aprraising eye as he thought of a better way for her to understand.

“Would you feel bad if you killed someone’s puppy by accident?” Melinda gave him a wide eyed look.

“Of course!”

“How would you atone?”

“Well…I’d…I’d apologize and…ok this is making a lot more sense now that I think about it.” Wilfred smiled to her as he chuckled. “He killed a lot of people, hurt many lives, but it’s not healthy for him to keep acting this way.”

“Normally, I’d agree. Vladimir would need an outlet to be able to keep his mind sane unlike our idiot friend Jensen.”

“I heard that Willy!” the immortal grunted as he began to soak the soda out of the carpet. Melinda groaned as she shook her head, muttering about the conflict she was having knowing full well not long ago she was being intimate with this man.

“So then…this outlet for him is going to a grave site and he magically feels all better?” Melinda gave him a dark look. “I’m in charge of his company for a reason. Not much slips by me. What’s the catch you aren’t telling me.”

“Something that you don’t need to know.” Wilfred said ending the matter as he stepped forward. Dozens of police sirens were blaring in the parking lot as troops and forensics teams began to move into the building.

Wilfred sighed deeply, hearing the elevator door open as Sarah and Aislinne stepped out, there cadre of woman behind them. He turned to the vampiress noticing she had changed back into her business outfit. She gave him a snarl of greeting.

“Stupid cops, don’t know how to arrive at a crime scene on time, but show up just when I’m about to start the process.” she rubbed her nose looking to the cops. “Do you have the papers Aislinne?” she snapped. A crumbled up yellowing paper was placed into her palm. She gripped it and looked to it.

“Such an ancient artifact in your hands. Could be one of Lazarus’ twelve items!” Wilfred joked. Sarah sighed as she glared at the golem.

“Stow it, golem.” she said heatedly. “Why the hell is this in my hand?” She turned to Aisilinne who shrugged. “Gods be damned, it’s expired! If one of those pigs see it we lose the crime scene to their filthy hands!”

“A problem, Lady Mizami?” the sergeant said with a cortet of other ranking officers.

“Ah, officer dumb ass!” She sang stepping forward. Aislinne lifted her head in a high pitched sigh rolling her eyes and slapping her head. “Come to sit around and wait while I work on the crime scene?”

“Show me your papers,” the sergeant said, much more angrily. She lifted the paper and he snatched it up taking a quiuck glance at a few things. “Expired.” he said darkly.

“A clerical error, call your office.” she said stepping up to him. He turned to a fellow officer, who in turn picked up his radio and began to talk to the disptacher.

“Going to take a minute, while you wait why don’t you ladies sit down and behave.” Sarah didn’t budge and the cop gave her a nasty look. Feeling the tension Wilfred stepped up behind Sarah, looking the cop dead in the eyes.

“I’m sure if we all just wait, we can be far, far happier.” Wilfred mentioned calmly. The cop met his gaze, seeing his golden eyes and just before he was about to say something he felt his jaw loosen and his start to grow wider. He looked the Black Mage in the eye and only when Wilfred turned his head did he find the power to turn his head away.

“That’s illegal!” The cop shouted. “Whatever the hell you just did.” he pointed an accusing finger to Wilfred.

“Care to explain what it is I did that was wrong?” Wilfred offered his hands for him to cuff him. “I’ll happily comply with the law as a citizen.” He waited a moment as he glared to the two immortals, then turned to his fellow officer. He whispered a few words, then grinned happily.

“Sit this one out girls!” he whistled for his men to move forward. “Your paperwork hasn’t been renewed in five years.” Sarah immediately turned to Aislinne. She sheepishly looked back, unsure what to say.

“But, but…” Sarah protested, unsure what to say.

“As a teacher of this school I must ask you gentlemen to please stand down.”

“Stow it, your power on this campus ended when we got word of a homicide, this is police jurisdiction, only one person can stop these men from entering that room upstairs.”

Wilfred met his gaze and lowered his head in challenge. “And who would that be?” The cop smiled a vile set of teeth.

“Why that would be me.” he said smugly.

[Lavinian Ambition]

The safe was opened and already Jared had set about tearing its contents apart. Sarah's dagger belt had been easy enough to obtain, after all Jared could recognize the thing on sight. It was already sitting on the bed and beside it a small file that to Seth and Liliana seemed to be a mad jumble of newspaper articles. Now the red head was looking deeper in the safe before he sighed shaking his head. Brushing his hands off on his pants he sighed before he looked back at the bed, "Hard to believe, but he was thorough, didn't keep anything unnecessary other than those two things..."

"What do you mean?" Seth asked.

"Those daggers are a hot commodity. Bernard was a lot of things, stupid wasn't one of them. He had to know that the owner's would come for them as soon as they found out they were missing. What I do have however, is at least the newspaper clippings of some of the more secretive cult movements. This actually answers a few questions, but raises a hell of a lot more," Jared said before he picked the items up. The belt was slung across his shoulder in a practiced movement even as the folder was held in a vice like grip. "Now to go home, see you guys around."

Seth grabbed Jared by the collar of his coat and yanked hard, pulling the lesser immortal close to the deity, "Not so fast bucko, there's still a lot more you have to answer for, the divorce with my sister being at the top of the list, buddy."

"I'm divorced?" Jared asked. A frown crossed his face even as he roughly pulled out of Seth's grip. The hand was kept in a loose fist before he said rather angrily, "I'm not in the mood for jokes Seth, even if it is your wishful thinking..."

Liliana moved between the two, stopping another potential fight before she said softly, "Sarah filed over three years ago. It was in the papers Jared..."

The brim on his hat hid his face from the two of them before he spoke, his voice quiet, "I haven't seen a paper since I left the Temptress. Haven't had time nor the money to really. What was the reason?"

"Oh I don't know, perhaps abandonment?!" Seth shouted at Jared. Liliana immediately moved a hand to Seth's lips before she hissed for him to quiet.

Jared didn't take that very well...

"Oh, I abandoned her? Who really abandoned Sarah? Certainly wasn't me asshole. You're the one who killed her parents and probably would have killed her too had it not been for fickle fate having her go out to do the shopping that day. Who the hell left her with two dead parent's as a gift anyways? Great way to say, 'Hey sis I love you! Here have two dead parents, from me with love!'"

Liliana looked down as she felt the rage rolling off Seth in waves. While Seth had tried to move on from his past, there was one sore wound that constantly plagued him. The death of his parent's and the abandonment of Sarah was it. He always felt guilty about it, and Jared knew it. He also knew Liliana wouldn't dare intervene now, because she was the one who forced Seth to do it. It was perhaps the only thing she couldn't atone for under Seth, each time it was brought up was another reminder of how fucked up Liliana and Seth's relationship had been.

Seth remained there quietly, staring into the grey eyes of Jared before he spoke sternly, his voice carrying a deadly tone to it, "You want to die so badly. You want to just get this life over with, that you can't even see the good things in your life anymore Jared. If you want to play the martyr do it on someone else's time. I'm not going to play pity party for you anymore. You have a responsibility to this world, and to my sister, and if I find you abandon either of those responsibilities again, I will make the last few millennium seem like a cakewalk. Are we clear Cesarino?"

"As crystal Dahlios. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a boat to catch back to Radasanth," Jared said turning to go. He almost made it to the door before he noticed the change in locations. He was now left abruptly outside in front of a large club. A sigh left his lips as he entered without a single pause, already knowing where he had been dropped off. Seth had done him at least a small favor, even if he didn't like the guy. He heard the loud thrum of music as cheers erupted from men and women alike. It was a roaring night at this particular club, and when he entered the woman at the door gave him a plastic smile.

"Welcome to the Temptress can I help you?" The girl faltered for a second, before she saw the face of the man she had greeted. Immediately she fished into her pocket and produced a small cell phone, and pushed it forward to the Lavinian Firebrand, who took it casually.

"Rachel right? I know it’s been awhile but-" Jared was cut off by the girl when she immediately shouted for one of the other girls to come over. Jared recognized the woman vaguely from before his leave, but he couldn't remember the name. Even as he looked at her he could feel something in the air, electricity that was more than just a wayward son returning home.

"Mr. Cesarino, it's good to have you back, Sarah was just calling saying she needed the equipment, and I have no clue what she's talking about," The woman replied before she motioned Jared to follow. Immediately Jared was feeling a pit in his stomach as he moved through the room. Finally he was in the offices where the girl showed him a small notepad filled with a list of stuff.

He scanned the list before he cursed and immediately opened up his cell phone, "Is Dobbs still the Police Commissioner?"

"I think so; I haven't kept up on politics. I haven't heard the commissioner stand down at least. I know Sarah would have yelled at us for missing something like that, or even for catching it," The woman replied.

"Look, Rebecca, I don't need a lengthy explanation filled with excuses or clarification, just a simple yes or no will do," Jared replied tersely.

"I'm not Rebecca, she quit five years ago, I'm Rose."

Jared let out a sigh of frustration before he hissed, "Okay, Rebecca, I don't care just take me to lock up one, and pray I keep reception in that place. Did we ever get that cell antennae installed on the roof?"

"I think Lady Mizami had it done, said the income was a good thing," Rose replied as she moved down to the basement with him a sigh of defeat escaping her lips. There was no way Jared would use her actual name right now. Jared thumbed through his contacts before he finally found the right number. Hitting the send button he placed it to his ear and prayed, very hard.

"Police Commissioner's office, how may I direct your call?" The voice was a male, probably slightly overweight. Jared felt his heart sink slightly; the previous secretary had been a woman.

"Is Dobbs in? This is Jared Cesarino and I need to talk with her post stat," Jared managed. He was putting a lot of info out into the open; he only hoped he got something in return.

"Give me one second, I was told to forward all calls to her cell," The man replied before a click hit the line. Jared heard the phone ring a few more times before a rather tired voice came over the phone line, “Hello? Whoever this is had better have a damn good reason for calling me this late at night..." Jared was still moving deeper underground as he heard a slight amount of static, not a good sign.

"Dobbs? This is Jared," Jared said firmly before he let the words sink in and continued, "I need a favor. I'll even open up the plate to your choice of repayment."

"Sounds like a big favor, what are we talking about?"

"I need you to reinstate my privatized police operations permit effective immediately, or at least grant me a temp one till tomorrow when I can come in and fill out the paperwork..."

"You always knew how to charm a girl. Wine her, dines her, and then ask her to do something that could cost her her job..."

"I know Dobbs, but someone forgot to keep renewing my old permit and it's five years expired. Sarah's throwing a shit fit because we have a touched ritual scene and the forensics teams about to contaminate the fuck out of it," Jared said firmly.

"Which one?"

"Which do you think? Sarah only throws shit fits about ones she cares about," Jared retorted.

"I'll make sure when they radio in you're given a temp pass pending the completion of the forms tomorrow. I want you here personally Cesarino, no more hiding behind one of the girls. Also, temp passes require police escort around the scene to ensure no tampering with evidence, so you're going to have a cop dirtying the scene a little. I can't do anything about that, its police regs," The woman replied. A sigh left her lips and he could almost swear he heard a glass going to her lips.

"Fair deal. Now, what do I have to do for this favor?" Jared asked.

"We'll talk tomorrow when you show up to do the paper work. Oh, one last thing," Dobbs said even as she was about to hang up.

Static was coming in a bit thicker, and luckily the line held. Jared only needed a few more seconds, and so he stopped, much to Rose's chagrin. Jared frowned as he waited silently for her to finish. Finally he felt his already thin patience wear down and h broke, "What is it?"

"Tell your girls to stop starting gang wars in my streets. I barely got the last one squelched," The commissioner replied. Jared cringed before he gave her a reply he'd look into it. Flipping his phone shut he shook his head while Rose continued to move forward, fishing out her ring of keys.

"That sounded like fun."

"How much farther I don't remember Lockup being in the center of the earth..." Jared snapped. The girl rose an eyebrow at the offhanded comment before she unlocked the door.

The room was dry, which was a good start. Backpacks lined one wall, with several shelves littered with various equipment. Immediately Jared went to work like nothing had happened and he had been here in the last five years. Equipment was jockeyed and placed carefully in a backpack before it was zipped up. Slinging it over a shoulder he looked up at Rose, "Alright, get my jeep ready, I want it purring when I hit the garage..."

Rose stiffened hearing the order before Jared frowned. She nervously played with her hair before Jared's face darkened.

"What happened?"

"Sarah took it with Wilfred to the dorms..."

Jared clenched his hand into a tight fist about the strap of the backpack before he moved down the hallway. His pace was fast, even as he clenched his jaw tightly. Was there anything else that could go wrong today? Perhaps he would find out that he was now on Althanas' top ten deadliest criminals, with a kill on sight order placed upon him. Moving to the garage he immediately saw a familiar keychain and grabbed it, snatching it viciously off the hook.

"Are those the key to-?"

"Yep," Jared replied.

"I can't let you do that sir. That's her personal bike; she'd kill me for letting you do that!"

"Fair is fair, she stole my ride, I get hers," Jared returned.

"But sir!"

"Sarah may accept buts, I don't. Learn not to use them around me," Jared said sternly. He had moved down the parking lot a ways, until he hit the motor pool of the Temptress. A few jeeps remained, and a solitary bike. The license plate said it all;

Succbus

Slinging one leg over the seat, he turned it on, revving up the motors and drawing the stares of a few other girls. Casually he plucked his helmet from the nearby wall, ignoring the protests of the mortal woman before him. Usually he had ridden passenger on this bike, but on occasion he rode it, and wasn't bad at it either. At least, that was his opinion. Sarah kept swearing off ever letting him ride the damn thing again.

Rose moved in front of the bike in a daring move stretching her arms. Jared revved the motor to warm up the bike before she shouted over the engine, "I can't let you do this Sir! It would be my neck!"

"It's okay Rebecca, you tried, and you’ll be safe." Jared replied as he tossed his hat onto the peg his helmet had occupied. The helmet was pulled over his head, before he revved it up again and moved the bike towards Rose. She jumped at the audacity, and as he revved again she finally moved out of the way, avoiding any chance at becoming a speed bump.

Racing through the town Jared let the nagging words of Seth and Liliana fade. He only hoped it was a misunderstanding, and not real. He hadn't argued and worked with Sarah for three centuries just to have all the work undone over a simple spat over how actively they should have hunted Cassandran Priests.

[Lavinian Pride]

"Look, you can't just go in there! That place was the site of a ritual, and if your forensics team goes in before we get a chance to do our thing, we'll be lucky if we can even tell how much faith it generated, let alone which god..." Sarah began. Aislinn placed a restraining hand on her shoulder as the Sergeant grinned maliciously.

"Oh, little crime lord out of her depth? I suggest you go back to your strip club, leave the detective work to the big boys," The man said, getting in Sarah's face. It darkened quite a bit as Aislinn had to pull Sarah away before she bit the man's face off. The Succubus was losing patience fast, and after calling for the equipment only ten minutes ago, she expected some sign that it was on the way, a phone call or something.

The forensics team was pulling out the last of their supplies before they'd ruin any hopes of tracing Aerith down and figuring out who she worshiped. While it was possible to be touched by a god, it was also possible to be touched by a god they didn't worship and they knew precious little about Aerith, besides the fact she knew all about them. Sarah had the feeling she had let a lion in her chicken coop, and the danger to her girls put her on edge.

She didn't like it when her girls got hurt, or when they were endangered. Hiring Aerith was both, and while Jared wasn't around to share the blame on, she couldn't help but figure had he been there, Aerith would have been exposed. Perhaps it was the stress of taking everything on her shoulders, especially after her heavy handed tactics had gotten more than a few girls to quit from under her.

Her phone began to vibrate, even as she heard the cop laugh.

Frowning she hit the receive button before she snapped, "Is it coming? That was slower than when Jared was around..."

"I'm so sorry Lady Mizami! I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me. He just harassed me and called me Rebecca!" Rose calling meant something had happened at the club. The fact that she mentioned a distinct he, meant a man had done something.

And Sarah was across town.

"Well where is the bastard?"

"He's coming to you with the supplies! But, he, he took your bike!" Rose wailed. Sarah now understood the hysterics she was employing. The girl had tried to stop whoever was bringing the supplies from taking her bike. The fact this man who was doing it was brash enough to risk the castration she promised any man who touched the thing meant he had to be cocky, or blissfully ignorant.

"Who is this 'he'?" Sarah finally asked, knowing the answer before she had even finished the question.

"J-j-jared!" The girl managed. At that point Sarah heard the revving of her motorcycle and cringed. Shaking her head she said a quick goodbye hanging up even as the fire red helmet came over the hill, the bike racing between the police barriers. She recognized the backpack as being one of the ones used for the field reconnaissance at ritual sites. The clothing while dark did fit his loose fitting style. For a moment she could have sworn she heard her heart beat.

She should have been angry, but after seeing him for the first time in years, she almost wanted to pull him into a side room and give him a real welcome back.

The police immediately moved up to the man waving frantically, even as the forensics team began to move towards the dorms. The helmet was removed before she heard his voice speak, the tone not inviting much room for argument, "You move those boxes another foot and I'll have your jobs with breakfast."

The smug officer from before waltzed up to Jared and pulled out his handcuffs. He then let out a shit eating grin as he said, "Well boys, we got breaking and entering, interfering with an investigation, and defiance of an officer. Let’s see what he does next. With luck he might get up to another felony!"

"That you Jacobs?" Jared asked as he powered down the motorcycle. Sarah wanted to move, really she did, but watching Jared in action was a rarity.

"Yes, Sergeant Jacobs to you, citizen. Give me a good reason not to take you down town for questioning," The man said as he crossed his arms.

"Commissioner Dobbs would fire you for police brutality, again," Jared replied bluntly before he pointed at the man's radio, "Check the database, we have a permit..."

"No, you don't, paperwork hasn't been filed in five years. You're too little too late big boy. Now turn around so I can cuff you. I'll be sure to read your rights nice and slowly, use small words so you understand it..."

"Check the temporary files. You'd be surprised what you can find," Jared replied, grinning with a bit of the Lavinian pride that Sarah missed around the workplace.

The sergeant radioed in the request, only to be given back immediately a file number. He glared at Jared before he said, "Fair enough, but I go with you. Make sure you don't tamper with or destroy evidence."

"I hope you brought a barf bucket," Jared replied getting off the bike. He moved down the street and into the dorms without losing pace. Sarah moved hurriedly to catch up even as the girls began to set up the traditional perimeter. Aislinn was handed the backpack before Jared asked, "Still remember the steps?"

"I think so; you might have to hold my hand through it..." Aislinn said even as they hit the elevator. Sarah remained resolutely silent, watching Jared to see what was up.

"I would but I think my wife might take offense to that..." Jared finally retorted as the doors slammed shut. The officer snorted in derision before Jared gave him a stern look, shutting him up.

Sarah wasn't sure what to make of that choice of words. Did Jared not know? Was he merely playing dumb hoping she'd go out and drop the divorce? He was as unreadable as ever, a true chaotic agent in her perfectly defined life. Perhaps that's what frustrated her, he turned her world upside down, merely by walking through the door.

It's also what lead to their eventual marriage.

When the Elevator came to a halt, she felt the goose bumps once more, before Jared shook his head sighing, "I smell it everyday for five fucking years, and it still makes me cringe every-time..."

The officer frowned at Jared before he said, "Smell what?" At that point the doors opened and the stench reached them fully. Aislinn was used to the scent having only just left it, but the officer felt his stomach lurch at the offending odor. Moving down the carpeted hallway he moved stiffly, in the signs of a rebelling stomach. Sarah felt a bit vindicated by the fact he was already squeamish. Having seen the massacre sight she knew he couldn't take much more.

The dorm room was covered in blood, decorating the walls and the ceiling as well as the floor, painting the room in a crimson red. The officer seemed dazed as he looked at the scene, the body laid bare upon a bed, barely recognizable as a woman. Seeing the man so put off she pointed at a nearby door, "Bathrooms there..."

While he was rushing into it Jared ignored his retching to reach into the backpack. Pulling out some small poles he began, "Aislinn boot up the computer, and hand me the microphone. I'll need to record notes this time, Sarah could you help me set up the spark detectors?"

The "spark detectors" were the best kept secret of Sarah and Jared. Having close ties to the local university and a deity, they were able to quantify the faith a god uses to fuel his divine powers. Once that was accomplished, it was a simple task to measure the imprint of faith in an area. When a ritual was done, it would leave a ghost image of the faith reaped from such an event. The Spark Detectors told how much spark was generated, so a god could function.

Sarah moved to a corner and placed the first one, even as Jared moved opposite. AIslinn had set the laptop on her lap, and was sitting on a chair she had pulled in from outside the room. Immediately she began typing away as a concert pianist, moving through programs and files with a practiced ease. She tossed Jared the microphone, which he clipped to his ear and placed the mouthpiece close to his mouth.

"July 27th 1947 PD, Victim looks to be human female roughly 5 feet six inches tall. Cause of death is bleeding out, with indications of torture evident. Skin has been flayed in some areas, and any attractive feature has been gouged out of the woman. Scraps of cloth on the floor suggest victim was tied down then stripped. Time of death is unknown as the air conditioning of the room is blasting cooling the body prematurely, and the clean atmosphere has not allowed insects to arrive at the death scene yet," Jared said firmly before he clenched his hand into a fist. Aislinn quickly shut off the recording as he looked over at Sarah.

"This isn't some wannabe honey, she's the real deal. What info do you have on her?"

"She worked at the Temptress," Sarah replied softly before she shook her head. Despite having fed only hours ago she could feel a yearning to lick the room clean. Moving out into the hallway she said firmly, "I have to go. I can't keep my composure in here; I'm liable to do something stupid. Let me know if you need extra hands..."

She also didn't want to deal with the emotions of deciding how to treat Jared. As a friend? A lover? Husband? She didn't know, and she hoped some fresh air could shed some light on the situation, even as she let Jared go to work. She looked at Jared only briefly before she spoke up, "Jared, welcome home..."

Jared looked at Sarah with a softer look than his usual gruff appearance before he said, "Thank you Sarah. I'll catch you at the club tonight..."

Sarah sighed before she nodded and headed downstairs.

[KOA]

The streets of Knife’s Edge was a hustle of activity, the people moving like ants in the crowded winding roads while cars blared their horns to move onwards towards their meaningless destinations. People walked with heads down, the better to avoid confrontations to deter them further. Beggars lined the roads, some with signs asking for help to feed their families, others praying to gods that would never listen.

Steena looked at the dossier in her SUV as it traveled rather slowly through the intersections of the road. With her in the car was four other military brother and sisters, Knight’s hand trained by Vladimir and herself. They were the few called inner circle, the few who could be trusted with taking down those deeply touched. She passed out copies of the target’s face as she instinctively looked to her left to see Vladimir’s bored expression. Instead she saw only one of the knights looking intently at the mission before them.

“Why isn’t lord Vladimir with us on this?” One of the women asked. She had auburn colored hair and red eyes, a unique trait of one of the Blood Magi families. It was critical she was on board for this mission, as Blood Magi were the natural anathema to Hex Magic with their rituals in blood instead of souls. She was a newcomer, and thus her insolence of asking such a stupid question would pass just this once.

“Lord Sigma has other, more important issues to handle. If he feels that we can do this without him, then by the horseman we shall.” Steena said ending the manner. The driver turned his head a fraction of an inch.

“Contact with target in five minutes,” he said coolly. Steena nodded as she checked her gear. Her rapier was ready to go, along with her pistol and two extra clips. The rest of her team loaded up rifles and shotguns, clasping helmets and making sure their vests were on tightly.

Steena looked out the front window, observing the street and her target was easily spotted in the crowd. He was shaven now, his head more like a military crew cut. He seemed to lose a lot of the bulk his profile described him as having, but that same magical energy seemed to be emanating from him. The vehicle rolled to a stop along the sidewalk.

Her team nodded to her signaling they were ready.

“He’s spooked!” The driver shouted as the clutch changed back into drive with a crunching sound. The car screeched as the rubber tires burned along the ground, scaring off people nearby as the SUV was off in chase.

Amadeus was running for dear life as he pushed people out of his way, darting down an alley and out of sight. Steena slapped her head as she gritted her teeth. You owe me big time for this, Vladimir. She thought miserably as the car screeched to a halt, the door being kicked open as her team ran after the prey.

~*~*~*~

“How you been?” Rebecca asked lightly. Vladimir shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

“Life hunting gods can be a tiring task. My horizons have grown a little since Karel and I went after Lazarus. I’m currently after his brother, Mordechi as well.” he watched as a group of children ran across the street, chasing after a ball. He smiled lightly at the scene. “How’s your son?”

“He’s a handful as always, but doing very well.” She said smiling. “Getting great marks in his studies, but his martial trainings are left to be desired. Go figure, the son of the Saint of Swords hates them. Thinks they aren’t cool.” she mocked as she smiled. Vladimir grinned at that.

They turned down the road, following the path as Vladimir took in all the simplicity of the town. Tree’s lined the road leaving behind brownish leaves as fall took it’s toll on the ancient oaks leaving a pile at the base of each tree. As the kids ran down the street two men walked before them, stopping the kids long enough to play for a moment before they kicked the ball for the kids to enjoy running after it. As they turned to face Vladimir and Rebecca they froze.

“Is that…” one began. He wore a gray jacket and had dusty white hair, a sheathed katana strapped to his black denim pants. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild and carefree. Though Vladimir knew this man from long ago, much of the animalistic spark this man once possessed was gone.

“No, he’s smiling, can’t be him.” the other continued. He had brown hair and deep piercing blue eyes, eyes that once long ago held nothing but sadness in them. Now, though they still harbored regrets, they were filled with determination to live each day to the fullest. He wore a brown travelers outfit, a cape that fluttered in the breeze, and a badge of office signaling to all that he was the Capitan of the Town Guard while a sabre dangled off his belt.

“Regal,” he said to the gray swordsman. “Troy,” he said to the captain with a respectful nod. “It’s great to see you both well.”

“Yep, we are as well as can be, which only means one thing.” Regal said happily. His face dropped a bit of the excitement. “I’m bored as shit.” Vladimir snorted his amusement at Regal’s simple mind.

“Will you be staying for dinner?” Troy asked as the two men wandered closer to the Rebecca and Vladimir. “If you are I’ll have to let my wife, Noel, know.”

At first glance the wife of Troy Priam was a greene yed blond haired, scrawny, boobless, tomboyish lookalike. She had a perky, boring personality and whined constantly. When she whined, it wasn’t a bawling cry, but a pitiful sagging feeling that could only bring a sigh to a person’s lips when they heard it. She did have one redeeming quality, one quality that more than made up for all her failures. She was a goddess of food, and could cook the most delicious meals in all of Althanas. Period.

“That…really makes me sad I have to turn it down.” Vladimir admitted. “I’m in the middle of hunting down someone however, I stopped only for the anniversary.” Troy and Regal both nodded.

“Well that’s a shame, roasted duck!” Regal boasted. “I’m so gonna devour it!” Troy gave Regal a dark look.

“You do mean share it, right?” Troy gave him a warning eye, which put the gray swordsman into his place. “Rebecca, don’t take to long, we will be waiting for you and Seed.” Troy said to his sister. She nodded to him, giving him a tight hug as they all met. Troy began to whisper into her ear, and she only sniffled in response, nodding to him.

“I got lunch with Nami,” Regal said loudly to Troy as he walked forward. In one practiced motion he took his sheath out of his belt and placed it on Troy’s as he walked towards Sheex’s bar. “See ya later Vlad! Next time visit for more than five minutes!” Regal shouted, despite the fact Vladimir was only an arm’s length away from the knight.

“Goodbye, Regal. Tell your Nami she’s got insane bravery for marrying an idiot like you.” Vladimir mumbled. He watched the gray swordsman leave before turning to see Troy standing before him with his arm held out.

Troy and Vladimir were at best, respectful to each other. They didn’t really care for each other more than they had to, but when Karel was placed into the picture they both started to form a close brotherhood like one would find in a military barracks between soldiers. This friendship only grew the more they found ways to make Karel’s life miserable, reminding the Saint of Swords how human he really was.

Vladimir gripped his hand tightly, nodding to the man before he walked off, attending to his duties as town guard. Rebecca turned to Vladimir wiping a tear from her eye.

“Shall we?” She said hiding her pain as she held her hand out for him. He took the hand, gripping it tightly as they continued to walk. “Troy’s always worried I’m just going to cause myself more pain by going.” she said haphazardly.

“Is this that woman’s trick to getting men to talk to her about her problems?” Vladimir said coldly.

“Why do you have to always be such a jerk?” She snapped wrenching her hand from his and slapping him across the chest playfully. Vladimir gave her a coy smile before she laughed lightly walking forward with him again.

“You know he is right. Every year you make the same stupid promise, I won’t cry.” He pitched his voice to mock her. “And every year you come home with more tears than the last.” Rebecca shrugged to him, flicking hair out of her eye.

“It’s perfectly natural for me to miss my husband.” Vladimir nodded in agreement to that. “Have you…have you moved on?” She asked carefully. Vladimir shook his head. “Why not?” she inquired.

“Because I don’t need to. I am happy with my memories of Serra.” Rebecca sighed as she sagged on his arm. “Look, I’m not you, Rebecca Raven, I am able to be happy without the need of another. I’m not trying to be a jerk, knowing you found Seed to fill a void, but for me, I don’t feel that void.”

They walked in silence. Vladimir let his memories wander as he thought about Karel and Rebecca, before suddenly he felt two slender arms hug him tightly. He looked down to see Rebecca smiling up at him, brightly.

“You looked like you needed that.” She said casually walking onwards from him.

He watched her walking away, feeling the warmth from that hug linger inside him even though she let it go. So like Serra’s… Vladimir thought.

~*~*~*~

“Shit, Red Knight reporting that I lost him.” a voice cackled over the radio. Steena ran as fast as her lithe legs could, keeping her breath even as her natural agility of being an elf kicked in. She easily darted over fallen trash, drunken hobos, and the occasional fire escape ladder. Her eyes kept scanning the area for the next obstacle as she jumped up, grabbed a sign post and split her legs to jump over an elderly couple without missing her stride when she landed.

“Who’s still got visual?” Steena said effortlessly.

“Blue Knight and Black Knight.” a voice responded in her ear. She lifted her hand up and turned a corner with the aid of a lamppost. She was back on the busy street chasing through the crowd as her eyes searched for signs of Amadeus.

“CRAP! Black Knight reporting tango lost!” The muffled sound of people being trampled filled her ear and she reached to her waist cutting off his communications to her headset. “Blue Knight status update!”

“Tango in sight.” the voice said calmly as his breath was audible in her ear. She turned down another alley and she sprinted, using all her agility to leap, jump, cartwheel, and flip over obstacles. She felt a small bead of sweat start to fall down her face. I’m out of shape. she thought as she pushed herself forward.

“Crossing J Street alleyway now, Blue Knight.” she said in one breath.

“Tango crossing your path. Hustle White Knight if you want to grab him!” he said as his breaths started to sound pained. Amadeus was apparently a very good at running if he could lose four knights and tire out the other remaining two.

Steena bolted forward, pushing herself past her limits as she slid her body out of the alley and turning on the spot lifting up her pistol to eye level. Amadeus saw the weapon and screamed like a girl as he covered his face and barreled forward.

“NO I DON’T WANNA GO BACK!” Amadeus shouted as he flailed his body about. Steena cursed as she lowered the weapon and braced for his bulk. The tow forces collided and Steena felt her body lift up into the air as her eyes winced in pain. She bounced upon the wet stone and rolled into the trash boxes left outside the back of a shop and she woozily looked up to see Amadeus tripping on his feet using his hands to keep him standing upright.

Before he could get away Blue Knight ran forward and tackled him to the ground. He used his training to subdue the target, placing a gun against his head. All resistance by Amadeus was quickly ended as he lifted his hands up into the air.

Steena groggily got up as she radioed in her coordinates to the rest of the team, her backside aching as she rubbed herself tenderly. As she approached Amadeus he lifted up his hands and gave her a dark look. Before he could even mutter a word she had her Rapier drawn on his nose.

“I wouldn’t bother trying any of that Hex magic.” She warned. Amadeus’ eyes went wide, a look of confusion on his face. She knew from her training and years of experience that this look was not a fake one, and something suddenly began to nag in her mind.

“Hex Magic? I haven’t used that shit in years! I swear I’m clean!” he motioned to his pocket. “I’m within my parole rights. I have followed the law to the letter. No more cult stuff! I worship Selios now!” he was starting to get into hysterics and Steena rolled her eyes as she bent over and lifted her hand into his pants.

She found a piece of paper and pulled it out, unfolding it and reading it carefully. “This…this is five years old…”

“Ya, I know.” Amadeus said. “I don’t do any cult stuff anymore! I swear to god, that isn’t me anymore!”

“But…” she instinctively reached for the dossier in her backpack. She took it out and read over the information, slower and carefully. Something wasn’t adding up. She took out her cell phone and dialed up her companion, Hardun. It rang for a few moments before his gruff voice answered.

“Time zones, lass. Go learn them and call me back when it’s morning my time.” he was about to hang up, but Steena’s voice cut deeply through the phone.

“Listen idiot, get Omega turned on and check the records on Amadeus and reference them with the scandisk we were given by Lady Mizami. Now.” The dwarf protested the entire time, but he slowly got up, and got to work.

Amadeus looked to her with fear as the Knight upon him kept him down, he gave his leader a confused look, and she signaled for him to keep Amadeus treated as hostile. He returned his hold on him. At last Hardun came back on the phone, his voice a little more accepting to the situation at hand.

“Uh…lass…these files have been tampered with…”

[Lavinian Ambition]

Jared sighed, looking upon the scene a bit more as he finished setting up the final two poles of the spark detector. His face held a look of intense concentration before Aislinn spoke up, knocking him out of his focus, "You know, you try to act suave, but you're running from something, aren't you?"

"That's our Aislinn, the Temptress' resident Psychologist..." Jared returned sarcastically. The officer had finally managed to climb out of the bathroom, where he saw the scene once more with a look of utter revulsion.

"What kind of sick fuck would do this sort of shit?" The officer asked. Jared only gave him a look of feigned surprise before he went back to Aislinn, and reached down to her lap to tap the key that would start the process.

"Do try to keep up darling, I'd like to get some sleep before finishing the permit work tomorrow..."

Aislinn shook her head before she sighed, "Right Mr. Cesarino. My apologies..."

"No, don't ignore me, you know something about this! I need to know, for the investigation!" The Officer said he reached a hand out to grab Jared by the collar, only to watch it get swatted away with an ease that was unnatural. Immediately he found himself regretting it as he saw the hand come up, in a fist and stop just shy of his nose.

"If you are going to assault me, make your first shot count. I will not be held responsible for my reactions to your childish antics Sergeant," Jared looked at the police officer through his dead eye, sending shivers down the man's spine. He turned away to not look into it before he muttered something about the crazy people running about tonight. He then looked down at Aislinn, "Now, what is the reading?"

"Off the charts, but you knew that didn't you?" Aislinn said once more.

"I had hoped I was wrong, but from the way the bloods over the walls..." He left it hanging, letting the officer know he was about to say something important with a sideways glance, "I'm willing to bet whoever did this tortured the girl by using her blood as paint. It's, effective, when you see yourself slowly dying, and watch the inventive ways they get more paint out of you, so to speak..." Jared replied.

"You don't think it was Aerith?" Aislinn asked. The guard seemed to perk up as he pulled out his notepad. Jared spoke frankly, letting the man jot down the name and the ideas;

"No, this is far too formal. Look at the amount of faith reaped. Aerith is too young to have that kind of information from the cults. They don't trust younger killers like that. You're talking someone who's been in the cult perhaps twenty, thirty years to get that kind of knowledge. We're looking at someone so deeply indoctrinated; they've subverted their will with their god's. You're looking at a fanatic that would be Cassandra's peer at that point."

Aislinn nodded as she hit the transfer button, sending the information to the Knights of Apocalypse enterprises. She then shut down the computer and placed it in the backpack. Getting up she helped Jared move the poles back into it. The officer looked puzzled before he spoke up, "That's it? That's all you needed?"

"Amazing the amount of red tape we have to waltz through to get it when you think about it. Perhaps you should talk to your commissioner about it, especially since the 'sick fuck' as you so eloquently put it is running around Radasanth. You want to make some good notes? Write this down, the Cassandran high priest, code worded the Saint of Killers is running around here, and that 'sick fuck' isn't going to stop till they get what they want," Jared said, pointing at his pad.

"What do we do about that? It's not like we have anything to go on! Give us a lead!" The officer was off his game, and in being so was actually doing his job Jared noticed. It was amusing to see that he was only a bully till things got freaky. Perhaps that one quality made him a better officer than most.

"You have all the info on the incident we have. So get your forensic info and be done with it..." Jared replied. He moved out into the hallway before he pulled out another cigarette and lit up. Even the acrid scent of burnt tobacco was preferable to the scent of congealed blood on the walls. He moved his jacket off his shoulders and hung it from a finger while he smoked, waiting for the cigarette to be done before he went downstairs.

"You know, there is one thing I've been meaning to talk to you about Jared. For when you got back of course..." Aislinn finally said as she took the cigarette from his lips and took a drag, before handing it back. Cesarino smirked at the audacious act, but he knew better than to chastise him for it. Aislinn was their adopted daughter of sorts, having been taken care of since the incident in the club. She knew of daddy's vices, and in exchange for not telling mommy about them, she got to partake occasionally.

Jared took the cigarette before he took another drag his eyes looking at her curiously, "And that is?"

She seemed to wait till Jared seemed to be inhaling before she finally asked, "Who are Krystal and Serenity?"

Jared felt a hiccup in his lungs as his chest seized instinctively at the mention of those names. A fit of coughs left his lips as smoke escaped anyway it could. His eyes held a hint of sadness at their mention before they hardened again, hiding the briefest hint of humanity he had left. Finally under control he glared down at Aislinn, who remained impassive as she looked upon him.

"Who told you about them?"

"No one, I just finally got around to learning Trade Speak, at least how to read it. Wilfred seemed keen on teaching me. When I got a good enough grasp, I just took an old photo of your guns and showed it to Wilfred. He asked me why I was showing it to him, and I said it was because you said the guns had Guilt and Grief inscribed on them," Aislinn began. Jared was still coughing intermittently before he gestured for her to go on. She had gone that far, might as well finish the damned story.

"Well, Wilfred said that the guns did say that, in a more symbolic way. When I pressed him he refused to budge, said it wasn't his story. What he did do, was taught me how to correctly translate them, since you were using the Lavinian dialect. Apparently that dialect was a bit more flowery and made the words harder to read. That's how I came up with the words Serenity and Krystal. When I showed them to Sarah, she said their story was yours and not hers to tell," Aislinn concluded.

"Amiya's tits... Well, it’s nice to see my privacy was kept intact while I was gone," Jared finally said, his voice hoarse from the coughing fit. Taking a smaller drag on the cigarette he dropped it to the carpet before he rubbed it out and exhaled slowly. "Too bad you aren't going to learn that one..."

"So they are names, can you at least tell me who is who?" Aislinn asked. Jared knew she was on thin ice with pushing the issue. Further because it was one of the few topics Jared stonewalled the girl on. He would talk about any of his other exploits all day, even when he tried to destroy the world in a fit of childish rage. He explained his eye and the cursed magic that coursed through his veins. He explained why Seth was a god, and what it meant to Jared in the long run. He even talked about Sarah's first adopted daughter Kid. What he refused to do, was talk of those two.

However he decided to relent this much, and no farther, "Serenity is my grief, and Krystal was my guilt. That's the last I'll say on this matter, especially in front of interlopers." It was at this time the elevator came up bearing the forensics team. Jared moved into the elevator stiffly, with Aislinn in tow, who was studying Jared for quite a few moments.

Finally a hand rested on his shoulder as she said, "Look, I'm sorry for prying. I just, want to know about you two. You have perhaps the wildest of the immortal's histories next to Vladimir. I mean you were the Eighth, and you nearly made up a new Council of Seven. I'm surprised Vladimir even lets you live with accomplishments like that..."

"He doesn't get a choice, remember, Selios cursed me to see the world end. I die and come back within a day's time, if they make it hard for me to, like dumping me into the ocean, I'll come back in Lavinya. Still frustrates me that he won't change it to the temptress when Lavinya isn't my home anymore..."

"But Lavinya is back-"

"Aislinn, your only warning, don't speak about that town as if you knew it. There was so many factors that made Lavinya what it is, that you cannot fathom the cultural differences between the Lavinians, and the people who claim to be today..."

The hand left his shoulder, even as she felt a cold shudder of fear race up her spine. For a moment she could have sworn she saw the Jared Sarah warned her of. This was the Jared that would destroy the world one day; the Catalyst for which he took one of his many nicknames. She only looked away even as the elevator dumped them on the first floor. He pushed off the wall in a practiced maneuver, flinging his jacket about such that he slid into it without any preamble. Finally he tilted his head this way and that, freeing some tension in his neck before he spoke, "And with that, smile for the audience, we got fans..."

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred watched the elevator turn open as Jared and Aislinne walked out of the trolley with a small grin on their face like a joke exchanged between them. Sarah looked up from her seat, releasing Wilfred’s arm that she was leaning on as she pampered up and stood looking to him with a soft smile. He returned it and Wilfred felt something inside his heart soften. A curious emotion he would look into later.

The two starred at each other in an awkward stance, before they swooned into each other’s arms, holding each other tightly. Jared whispered into her ear as she closed her eyes tightly running her hand through his red hair.

He hadn’t even noticed that Aislinne was standing next to him, clutching the bag tightly with a warm smile on her face. He turned to her, and with little thought lifted a hand up to her shoulder and rubbed her gently. She looked to him, a little confused, before she laughed softly and leaned into him for support.

“They look so happy…she’s been so lonely without him around.” Aislinne whispered.

“I couldn’t tell from the number of advances she placed on me.” Wilfred felt his free arm lift and something lean against him.

“’It’s just…so cute!” Jensen cooed. “Like if you took a puppy and a kitten, and they both cuddled up against each other near a fireplace!” Wilfred didn’t know why, but he felt annoyed at Jensen for interrupting his alone time with Aislinne.

“Do you have to make everything so damned awkward you fool?” Aislinne said angrily as she glared at the immortal. Jensen gave her a wink before he twirled Wilfred away from her, dipping him low causing the golem to feel more agitated.

“Ah, but I am Jensen, and you know that no matter how foolish I act, your heart calls out for me!”

“One time, you mother fucker, one time and I REGRET IT!” Aislinne shouted. Wilfred felt another stab near his heart. He made a mental note to check a doctor to see if this was normal. Sarah and Jared turned to face the trio with dirty looks before Jared’s eyes narrowed a bit more on Jensen.

“THE PRODGIAL SON RETURNS!” Jensen shouted, dropping the golem on his back running over with arms held wide open to embrace Jared.

“Get away from me you clown!” Jared warned pulling out his pistol. Aislinne cursed foully to Jensen as she ran over to Wilfred, who felt very silly at the moment.

“Onto discussions that really matter!” Wilfred said in his most demanding teaching tone. The group all remained quiet, Jensen not moving a muscle as he balanced himself on one foot. “Jared, I’m happy to see you returned, and I do wish it was under more pleasant circumstances, but I must ask that you hold off your happy reunion. As from what I can hypothesize from the smell of the scene a great deal of faith was amassed for the goddess of blessed torture.”

“Correct,” Jared said getting to business. “From what we were able to obtain it was enough faith to awaken a god’s conscious through the void. I can only imagine it’s a Saint of Killers.” The golem pushed himself up with Aislinne’s help, and after thanking her he looked to Jared before he began to pace softly across the floor.

“Are you suggesting the Saint of Killers is Aerith?” Wilfred asked. Jared shook his head holstering his gun.

“No, this isn’t kiddy shit, but full blown copycat. Cassandran Serial Killers who emulate her don’t even reap that much faith, mostly because she doesn’t seem to touch them at all. But a Saint of Killers has to be someone special, someone who shares her taste for violence before they can be touched.” he moved his chin to his chest in thought. “I think this Aerith girl was just a pair of eyes, someone to find a suitable offering to the goddess. Father Bernard mentioned that he spoke with the Saint of Killers, but he seemed to come back from such an encounter paler than a ghost.”

“Doubtful a tiny child like her could be touched then.” Sarah said adding her two cents. “Yet the child did know a lot about all the gods and immortals. So she must be at least a part of the cult that the Saint of Killers belongs to.”

“Agreed.” Wilfred said as he took out a small dry erase pen and walked towards the windows. He noticed Melinda was sitting on one of the couches, deep in thought . “Child, it will do you no good to think about Vladimir at this point. Please put all those thoughts aside, as we could use an inner circle Knight’s expertise on the subject at hand.”

And just like that the head of Knight’s of Apocalypse enterprises blinked a few times before awakening and nodding her head for Wilfred to go on. He made a mental note to comfort her later. He approached the glass and began to write down dates and times, along with some information regarding them. The group of immortals and girls all sat along the dorm room couches and chairs, Jared and Sarah sharing one seat as she sat in his lap.

“Aerith was first seen in my class this fall semester, but I tracked her records. She took an insane amount of history classes as well as magical art classes and science classes. Her counselor told me she was trying to go into police forensics in magic and minor in history.”

“Boring.” Jensen said flatly. “Tell us something important.”

“Ya know what, Jensen? Shut the hell up.” Melinda said darkly as she glared to the man.

“Uh oh, honeymoons over.” Jensen chided. “Guess you and Aislinne can make the I slept with Jensen and regret it club.” both girls glared darkly at him, only making him laugh with glee. Wilfred softly walked forward looking Jensen in the eyes.

“Jeeze Willy, Jeeze! Not the eyes! They creep me out!” He feigned being frightened as Wilfred rolled his eyes turning back to the window where he wrote a few more notes.

“I asked Aislinne to bring me the files on her, and she did along with other useful information. All the classic serial killer signs are in her background. Abused as a child, bullied in school. Her taste for history was seen as her escape.” Wilfred rolled the marker over the window, making a squeak noise as he circled the word Temptress. “At about the age of sixteen she lied about her age to get a job, which you, Sarah, gave her…this would be…”

“Three years ago…a month after Sarah had placed the divorce in the paper.” Aislinne whispered. Despite how lightly she breathed it, the entire room heard it. The mood in the room suddenly shifted. Sarah felt her butt hit the carpet hard as Jared’s face looked to her with shock, a look of pain in his features like she stabbed him deeply.

“You…you really did it?” He muttered to her. Sarah looked up to him with tear filled eyes.

“I…I had to get your attention. Something, someway to let you know I needed you!” Sarah said exasperated as she crawled to him, grabbing his hand.

“I told you to wait!” he said angrily. Sarah’s tears began to run down her face.

“You can’t expect me to wait forever for NOTHING!” She shouted. “Not a sign, not a letter, not even a damned crumbled receipt from a burger joint to let me know you breathed and still cared for me!”

“I was undercover! I can’t exactly stop my investigation to write my wife a letter in a den of SERIAL KILLERS!” he shouted back. Sarah got back to her feet as she glared to him.

“No matter what you told me you would be there when I needed you the most!” She said darkly. “So I told you I needed you, and you abandoned me!” She seethed. Jared stood up with her, matching her gaze as the two glared at each other.

Wilfred stepped forward, standing between them as he softly pushed Sarah aside. “This is all trivial nonsense.” the golem said. “Jared still loves you Sarah,” he said looking to the vampiress. His eyes returned to the Lavinian. “And Sarah still loves you Jared.” he said like a parent scolding two children. “Does anything else matter?”

“No…” Jared said looking down to his feet. “It doesn’t. Maybe I was too consumed in my work to realize how much you missed me. I‘m sorry to make you wait.” He looked back to Sarah and smiled.

“Disaster averted.” Wilfred said triumphantly as he returned to the window. “So the point is, while Sarah was preoccupied with other things, Aerith flew in under the radar to be the eyes and ears of the Saint of Killers, so what we need to do is look for her. While we search, maybe we can get the Knight’s to look into her past and see if we can find any spots that may lead to us to the Saint.”

“This has been a long day.” Sarah said tugging on Jared’s hand to bring him over to her. “It’s just been one long, stupid day. I don’t think I can handle anymore at this time. Please, Melinda, let us know if you and Vladimir find anything on her.”

“Will do, Lady Mizami.” Melinda said getting up and walking next to Aislinne. “God, that was awkward.” she muttered.

“Tell me about it.” Aislinne joked.

“You haven’t seen awkward yet!” Jensen said slyly as he ran forward. Wilfred gave him a dark look as the immortal stepped on the couch, hopped over it, and turned to look at Sarah.

“So does this mean our whirlwind romance is over?” Jensen said sadly. “No more fuck buddy sessions when you feed on blood and need a good dicking?” Sarah’s eyes opened wide in hatred as her fists curled into talons ready to swipe his face off. “I’m not just some useless toy you can cast aside, Sarah, I have feelings to you know!”

“Shut. Up.” Sarah seethed.

“No, Sarah, I refuse to think our romance was just a one night stand…or two nights…possibly three…” Jensen thought about it. “No four times. Four times. For sure. Defiantly five time we bumped pelvises.”

“What is this clown babbling about?” Jared said in a forced calm.

“Well Jared, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much the mommy does things like sleep with other guys to make the daddy jealous when he doesn’t pay enough attention to her! This is called regret.”

Jared turned to look Sarah deeply in the eyes, and she looked back with a longing look of regret. He lifted his hand to Jensen in spite. “You slept with…THAT?” He shouted losing his cool.

“She didn’t just sleep, she let me fuck her brains out.” Jensen began to thrust his hips against the side of a couch. He even slapped it in mockery of what he had done. “Doggy, Anal, tit jobs, blowjobs, oh man we had a RIOT!” Jensen sang as he had his way with the couch. “She screamed and hollered, and I was all like ’YEEEAAAHHH BITCH’!” Jensen stopped his thrusts as he looked to Sarah, who was bawling in front of Jared who had pulled out his guns on the immortal. “Overall I’d rate her six outta ten. Aislinne’s tits bounced way better and Melinda gets better thrust.” Jensen waved his hand winking to Jared.

Two gunshots went off and Jensen’s body exploded backwards, his face a bloody mess as Jared stood over him, looking down upon his broken form. He lowered the weapon to his face again, but he seethed his frustrations as he lowered the weapons and ran a hand through his hair, gripping it tightly before turning to Sarah.

“Give me my keys.”

“Jared, please…” Sarah begged. Jared moved over to her, pushing her hand aside as he ripped the carabineer off her waist and stormed away. The group of immortals and girls all looked to Sarah as she sobbed into her own hand, Aislinne moving forward timidly as she gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault…” she repeated over and over. Aislinne only rubbed her back gently as she sobbed into her sleeve whispering into her ear. Wilfred looked to Melinda who looked back with a confused look.

“I, should probably go…” Melinda said walking towards the exit.

“Wilfred…” Sarah muttered in her sobs. “Can…can you do me a favor? Take one of my girls and go find Jared?” She looked right at him and her eyes were begging the golem. “He’ll…He’ll talk to you. I just know he will…Please. I just want to make sure he’s okay…” Wilfred looked to her, very confused, unsure what to say. His eyes wandered to Aislinne’s, who had tears forming in her orbs. She gave him the silent message, adding her own pleading to Sarah’s.

“Uh…okay.” Wilfred said walking out the door pointing to one of Sarah’s workers. “I’ll go.”

He stepped over Jensen’s corpse on the way to the car, his mind deep in thought the entire time. Human’s are so strange…

[Dissinger]

The Temptress had long since shut down shop, to the point that the janitor was going through cleaning up the spilled drinks and occasional bodily fluid. At roughly three in the morning it seemed the shop was in its normal routine, or at least it would be, if it wasn't for Seth and Liliana sitting at a table, waiting patiently for the others to arrive. Seth had a glass of real Lavinian Ale, from Sarah's private bottle. This much he was allowed with great reluctance by Sarah.

Liliana made do with a small fruity juice cocktail that served to take her mind off the depressing news they had to bear. Seth could see her gears turning within her head, always heralding a tactful statement, made with the proper reverence of a herald. He almost envied her ability to speak eloquently, especially when he himself was rather crass. Especially since Jared was likely among those returning, and he had a fist to shove down the Lavinian's throat.

He had barely restrained himself when he had yelled at Jared about what had occurred between the Dahlios siblings. While Jared was one of the few qualified to talk about it, it didn't make the jabs less painful when he did so. It was a game, and the fact Jared had an instant win button in 'Piss off the deity' was a bad thing. It meant Seth wasn't as over his past as he liked to pretend. Looking across at his wife he finally spoke, "I was hard on him, wasn't I?"

Liliana looked up at him with a mild curiosity before she spoke, "Of all the times to ask, you choose now?"

"I mean, he's trying, I know that. I mean I knew what he would do before he did it, and I knew that blowing up at him would only drive him further from her. Hell what’s going on right now is going to drive the wedge between them far more than anything I did, but I can't help but feel I should have just stayed quiet and banished him here without a word..." Seth said as he sipped his drink. A sigh left his lips before he hunched over the glass, relishing the bitter taste of the powerful alcohol.

"So you're admitting you still have a temper, when a god shouldn't. At least, your viewpoint of a god..." Liliana replied.

He looked into those eyes and sighed, "Yeah, I guess that's it, isn't it? Not really sorry I did it, just sorry I got caught acting human...Which I used to pride myself on..."

"Well when Sarah comes in, I'll comfort him while you give Wilfred the news. I'm sure we'll be able to go back to our demi plane and wait for the next big disaster to strike the Pantheon. Then again since N'jal its been too quiet anyways..." Seth let the words linger in the air a bit more. Only a handful of gods were truly active in the world anymore, and Seth knew it was mostly his fault. As mankind began to shift away from the dark ages, Seth had systematically destroyed any god who sought to reestablish the status quo.

The fact the Pantheon was beginning to stir again, meant that someone had just reaped faith, and the others were getting worried. The Pantheon was a huge game of tug of war, with everyone pulling on each other. When one god got stronger, the others were forced to pull them back in line. This was usually done by their established minions eradicating cults of their foes. The system worked when faith was only gained on a smaller scale, because such events could be compensated for by the other gods.

When it was a huge reaping, that's when the true problems began.

Two or three gods should have been enough to pull any other one back in line. A huge reaping of faith could cause it to be one against all. Such alliances were always a pain in the ass to coordinate, and seldom held together as it were. Other gods would undoubtedly try to ally with the big god in the house, hoping to get some of that faith for themselves.

And then Seth would be forced to reestablish balance, by draining faith from everyone to near loss of divinity. Every time taxed the god, and he still hadn't recovered enough to hit the reset button of equality. If this god made a power play now, by the time Seth reaped enough faith, they could have defended against his deicidal work. Further, they could target his worshipers, getting them killed in accidents and preventing the necessary faith all together.

Then the war of the gods would begin anew, and the age of Man would come to a decisive end, as gods would manifest on the plane once more. No immortal other than those who were tied to a god knew of what was occurring, but Seth knew the Pantheon was about to send its troubleshooter into the heart of the matter. The fact they had to call upon the death god Enma-o was insulting enough. To know his minion would be free of judging the dead for mortals knew how long, was something Seth didn't want to think about.

The doors opened and without much fanfare the girls moved through the club. Some girls were gathering gear to go home for the night, others preparing to continue their shift on site. Wilfred was conspicuously absent from the groups entering, as was Jared. Liliana looked at Seth with worried eyes, but Seth only shook his head firmly. Liliana would be needed soon enough. Sarah's appearance in the doorway was rather unstable, as she moved through the room almost mechanically.

Her orders seemed half hearted and barked, the girls only followed out of pure pity and sympathy than any real respect. Seth could tell that what had occurred at the college had destroyed the foundation Sarah had built up about her, in a decisive blow by the Champion of Famine. Jensen had truly outdone himself on that one, as the girl seemed hardly capable of thought let alone movement. Seth kicked his foot against the seat of a chair shoving it back a couple of feet, before Sarah sat heavily in the chair.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to not come back unless it's important," Sarah said, still in her stupor. Even her rage at Seth's presence seemed forced. She looked at Seth with haunted eyes that tore at his heart. He had never been much of a big brother to Sarah, not like Jared had been for Serenity, but occasionally the brotherly instincts kicked in.

"You want me to kick in Jensen's head for you? Would that make you happy?" Seth asked.

"You knew?!" Sarah said as Seth saw the tears begin to well up in her eyes. Liliana carefully moved her chair beside Sarah's before she wrapped her arms warmly about the Vampiress. Sarah nearly crumbled but held on before she said softly, "Why are you here Seth? It can't be because of what just happened. Even, I'm not that stupid..."

"You aren't stupid Sarah," Liliana soothed as she sighed before she said; "Steena Windsong from the Knights contacted us a few hours ago. She wanted confirmation on some information we could provide, and sure enough what they had didn't match our, well lets just say it didn't match."

Sarah looked at the two of them before she said softly, "What information?"

"Amadeus Gartham ring a bell?" Seth asked. Sarah immediately buried her face in Liliana's chest as she bawled understanding what had occurred. She clung to the woman and continued to cry while Liliana stroked her hair reassuringly.

"I-I-I should have checked up on it! I thought it was suspect. Aislinn had no clue where the file came from either, just that it had shown up on her desk. She's not qualified to go over that stuff that was J-J-"

"It's okay sweetie, I know you tried, we're here to help shore up your intelligence so it doesn't happen again," Liliana whispered. She cut Sarah off before she could name the true source of her despair. Meanwhile Seth could feel the rage rolling off the woman, who seemed to be ready to tear the head off the Champion of Famine for his latest indiscretion. Seth only shook his head firmly before he got up with his drink moving towards Aislinn who seemed similarly shaken.

"I take it he got in everyone's heads?" Seth asked.

"I don't know why that man lives! He just makes me so...." She let out a growl of frustration before she slapped her hand on the bar. Seth remained unmoved by the act as she steadied her breath and looked at the deity. Finally she confessed, "It was just, he didn't have to ruin Jared and Sarah's big reunion. They could have swept it under the rug and that was that. Instead he went out of his way to torment Sarah and Jared, like he had some kind of vendetta-"

"He does," Seth replied bluntly.

"What?"

"He does have a vendetta, you have to understand, Jensen doesn't foster the same ideals you do. The other Immortals, they abandoned parts of their humanity as time went on, because it only served to drive them crazy. Jensen gave up on others, and essentially sees us all as toys to play with. When he doesn't get to play with us as he pleases, he makes little games out of frustrating our carefully planned happiness. Be you mortal or immortal, meeting Jensen is enough to make him have a vendetta against you," Seth explained.

Aislinn sighed before she looked at Seth, "So what brings the god to our humble home?"

"I need to ask you about the file on Amadeus Gartham, how did it get to you?" Seth asked.

"Anonymous tip, I didn't think much of it and sent the file to Sarah for review. Why? Something happen?" Aislinn asked, curious at the God's demeanor. It was so down to earth that she couldn't see him as a deity, let along the one of blessed balance.

"It was basically a packet of carefully contrived lies. Just credible enough to pass muster, but fake when looked at in depth. It turns out that the Knights just spent a lot of money on a fool's errand to chase down one of my faithful. This isn't the only prayer I got from my faithful about being hunted either," Seth said conspiratorially. He looked around before he said, "Any information about how you got that information would be great. We need to track down the person setting up my people before they start getting killed..."

"I wish I could, it was just left on my desk. non of the girls said they put it there either. I found it a bit odd, but its not my call to make. That's Sarah's call," Aislinn said before she looked at her Mistress, who was hugging Liliana still. "I take it she didn't look too deeply, after her outburst..."

"Batting a thousand kiddo. Thanks for the information, I'll let you know if we get anything on our end..." Seth said as he moved back to the table and took another sip of his ale. Looking at the glass he shook his head before he pushed it over to Sarah, "Here, you need it more than I do..."

[KOA]

Rebecca and Vladimir were nearing the edge of town by the towered steeple that watched over the area like a dutiful Shepard. Vladimir had no clue who was worshipped inside of that building, and made it a point to never bother. His nagging curiosity always begged him to just stop and ask, but he did everything within his power to make these trips based solely for himself and Rebecca rather than for work.

“Almost there…” Rebecca whispered, her hand squeezing Vladimir’s tightly in anticipation. “I wish Seed was here.”

“You can’t expect him to be,” Vladimir said calmly. “I did rape his homeland and he watched Karel do nothing about it.” He gave himself a smug smile despite the pain in his heart. “On his list of people Seed would rather forget, Karel and I rank the highest. Since Karel is dead and I’m immortal, he can’t go looking for revenge either. Not that he would pose much a threat to either of us.”

“Well, at least he forgave Karel.” she added. “Took damn near a whole year, but he realized after Guy and him sparred that sometimes in life things are different than the foggy glasses we wear seem to be. He still hates you, and I can’t really do anything about that.”

“I have that effect on people,” Vladimir moved forward, looking up to the iron gates. “Here we are.” he looked to the runic script on the gates, reading the graveyard’s name. Not to many people were buried in this part of town, mostly because Irrenes tried to remain a relatively spook free place. Yet there were people who were important enough to be placed within the town limits instead of the barrows down the way not too far off the road.

Karel’s death fighting a deity was just barely enough to enter the town graveyard.

Rebecca took a deep breath before she nodded and Vladimir opened the gates with a loud creaking noise. As they moved forward they noticed two people walking towards them, one standing tall and proud, the other hunched over who’s face was hidden behind a hood. Vladimir looked up to them and smiled softly.

“Well met, Guy.” Vladimir said respectfully as he offered his hand out.

Guy Deltin, the current Saint of Swords, was dressed in simple clothing with an old sword tucked away at his side. He had a very easy going air around him, and his eyes hid much intelligence. He was a good kid by Vladimir’s standards and the weapon he wielded belonged to Karel once; The Serra Karla Raven. Guy became famous throughout the land, doing deeds to bring back honor and prestige to the title Saint of Swords, but what always got Vladimir was what the kid learned in those travels. Something Karel could never learn until about a year before he died. He was also the only person in this town Vladimir truly feared with a blade.

His friend next to him lifted up one hand, his coat stretched over his hand hiding it. Vladimir new this was Guy’s friend, Thor, who was a Neko. The cat person was welcomed in Irrenes when Guy introduced him, and he stayed whenever Guy did. The story of Thor goes that he was a princess’ royal bodyguard, and that Guy and Thor sparred, at long last Guy finding a challenger that could keep up. This brotherhood made them fast friends, both sharing a lot of the same view on life.

Vladimir shook the Neko’s hand as the two moved to Rebecca, Guy giving her a big hug as Thor shook her hand. After they said their hello’s the two men looked back to Vladimir.

“How goes your fight with the gods?” Guy asked. Vladimir sighed heavily. “That good huh?” they all laughed.

“On of them seems to be getting uppity, but don’t you worry. I’m the last Knight of Apocalypse, I can take him down.”

“Like how dad told me he took you down with his drink?” Guy’s lips pursed into a grin, making Vladimir roll his eyes as he felt the vile taste return to his lips. “So I heard the anniversary was coming up, and Thor and I paid our respects. Make sure you don’t spend too much time, Rebecca.”

“Why is everyone so worried about me being late?” Rebecca lowered her gaze to the Saint of Swords. He lifted up his hands in defense as he smiled to her.

“We know you, and we all know you’ll cry. So we just want you to be in and out. Staying for dinner, Vladimir?”

“Sadly no.” he really hated turning down Noel’s food.

“Suit yourselves, goodbye then.” He shook Vladimir’s hand one last time before moving, Thor doing the same as his tail came undone in the back hitting Vladimir in the face. He swatted it away as the Neko apologized, making Rebecca laugh softly.

“You got lucky today. It’s rare you get to see so many before you have to leave.”

“Yet I still didn’t see them all. Some are better off for it I guess.” He moved forwards with her.

They walked up the paths of the cemetery for minutes, looking at the trees and a few unique gravestones. When they reached the top corner of a hill they both stopped. Rebecca clenched Vladimir’s hand very tightly, and he remained resolute in his stance to move forward.

“I won’t cry.” Rebecca said forcefully.

“Yes you will.” Vladimir said to her as they moved forward.

The grave marker of Karel Raven, blessed Saint of Swords, was a simple one. On the left side was Karel Hector Raven, his name made of flowery script hand done by one of the townspeople who knew Rebecca well. The right side was a plaque with a note that was written by Troy in a dialect nobody save him would know. Rebecca inquired about it, and when she read it she never spoke about it.

“Hello, Karel.” Vladimir said starting things off as he knelt on one knee before the stone. “You best be doing your end of the bargain.”

Rebecca placed her hand on Vladimir’s shoulders as she stood over him, instinctively rubbing his soreness away as she looked to the gravestone. “You know, you have it so easy. You get to sleep and be comfortable, while I have to chase down Mordechi now. Ya, we expanded our horizons since the last time I came. Not just Lazarus. Oh, Wilfred says hello. You remember him, right? He’s the golem that saved your ass in Salvar when the Sword Demon damn near killed you.”

Something wet hit his hand and he glanced to see the salty tear that fell from the heavens. “There’s going to be a big feast tonight, and since your lounging about with your sister in the afterlife you have to skip out on Noel’s cooking. I know the afterlife won’t having as good as that woman’s cooking so you miss out on that at least.”

Rebecca laughed softly before she lowered herself, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she began to softly sob. “You’re an ass for making her cry, Karel.” Vladimir whispered.

“I miss you, my love.” Rebecca said choking back her tears. “Your son is doing great. He hates swords, though. Must be strange to hear that, but well…he follows his own path. Seed is taking very good care of me.” She smiled sweetly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, he forgave you. I told you I would change his mind on you. Well…Guy did it more than me…” she forced herself to laugh.

Vladimir stood up with her, and he turned looking her in the eyes. Her ocean blue eyes were fogged over and he lifted one hand up to her and gently ran it through her hair.

“I promise I won’t tell…” he said softly. Rebecca slammed her face into his chest, crying deeply as she held him tightly. He remained there, running a hand through her hair as he whispered to her about how Karel would be proud of her moving forward, how proud he would be for her living and raising their son alone. How proud the former Saint of Swords would be just to know she still smiled.

“Just, hold me for a bit…” she whispered up to him. “I still have things I want to say.” she asked of him. Vladimir nodded once as she returned to his chest, whispering into his body as she trembled. They remained like that for an hour before she at last ran one hand down to Vladimir’s and started to pull him away.

“Goodbye, my love.” she whispered.

“Goodbye, Karel.” Vladimir said just as soft. The two walked down the path again as she sniffled, fixing her face as she walked solemnly forwards. She gripped his hand tightly until they hit the gate where she let go and looked up to Vladimir.

“I told you that you would cry.” He sassed smiling brightly down to her. She returned the gesture, playfully slapping him across the chest as she turned walking towards Sheex’s bar.

“Goodbye, Vladimir. Same time next year?” she asked lazily looking over her shoulder.

“It’s a deal.” he said walking towards the mountains and out of town. “Send my goodbyes to the townsfolk.” she nodded as they parted ways. He walked in silence the entire time, thinking back to his journeys with Karel and he smiled at a few parts, chuckling to himself at the one time he and Karel had to survive a rather awkward situation, and he became dour again when he remembered the swordsman’s sacrifice to save his life.

He hadn’t realized he moved through the portal and was back in the real world until he took in a deep breath, smelling the ozone of pollution and industry. He shook his head as he walked forward, saying a word of power shutting the portal down.

Before he had a chance to think he noticed his phone was ringing on the rock he left it at. He picked up his gear and looked to notice he had fourteen new messages and thirty missed calls. Only one text message was left for him, and he glanced at it before he slammed the phone shut.

He walked out of the cave and down the narrow pathway he memorized as he returned to the road, seeing the awaiting Jet parked on the ground. The amount of money he probably had to pay for the right to do that was extraordinary. He noticed Steena looking down upon him from the ladder with concern as she waved the pilot to start the engines. He ran forward and up the ladder as they pulled it shut, the SUV’s speeding off back towards the Knight’s base in this region as the jet screamed off into the air.

Vladimir rolled his belongings towards the back as he lazily sat down, kicking one leg over the table as Steena sat across from him.

“That stupid look on your face means you haven’t checked a single message, have you?” Steena sighed as Vladimir gave her one of his trademark grins. “Idiot, we leave you messages for a reason. Amadeus’ information was wrong. He’s been on parole for a few years now, worshipping Selios.”

“So we got bad intel. It happens Steena.” Vladimir said lazily as he poured himself a scotch on the rocks. He sipped at it, feeling the bitterness sooth him for a fraction before he spit it out back into the cup. It wasn’t like what Sheex carried.

“Well then maybe this will return you back to the land of the living you moron!” She tossed a few papers at the last Knight of Apocalypse, her hand reaching out and grabbing his scotch and downing it one gulp before she reached to pour more. “Sarah and Wilfred and Jared all royally screwed up! The Saint of Killers reaped a killing in faith and now the pantheon of gods is unbalanced according to Seth and Lilliana. Not to mention the entire work Jared put into being undercover was blown out the window.”

“How so?” Vladimir inquired as he spread the papers over the table reading them all carefully as his golden eyes scanned each page.

“Seth killed the only eye witness to the Saint of Killers.”

“Aerith is suspected of having contact, use Omega to track her down.”

“Do you think I’m in an idiot?” Steena said harshly. “I already did that. Now get your head in the game and start thinking two steps ahead like I know you can.”

“What the hell stick crawled up your ass?” Vlad said glaring to her intently. She sighed as she ran a hand down her hair. She took a moment before she gave him a look that made his own glare cool off. She was worried, and the elf seldom worried.

“The gods and immortals were all tricked. A thousand goose chases just went off so that the Saint of Killers would get the faith needed to reap faith like wheat to a scythe.”

“Sources?” Vladimir continued as he turned a page getting back to work.

“Logically? Nothing. My gut feeling?” Steena peered over the lid of her cup pointing to him. “Sarah’s daggers were a trick to lure the god’s out of hiding to go retrieve them while they planted false evidence in the Temptress, using that to get us to go barking up the wrong tree while they all stand dumbly around a corpse.”

“So you’re theorizing that the Saint of Killers is actually going to make one more kill?”

“No, I am positive they already have. The college campus was just a polite cough to let him know he’s aware of the immortals.” Steena downed her drink. “That scares the shit out of me that someone, even someone deeply touched by a god, can trick all of us.” Vladimir nodded as he rotated in his chair away from her.

“Thank you, Steena. Go tell the captain to make post haste to the airport, and have a chopper waiting. I want Melinda in my office waiting for me when I get there with all the phone lines ready for a mass conference. I need to talk to the other generals about this to mobilize all the knights.”

“What are you thinking?” Steena inquired standing up to carry out her orders.

“A god is about to be reborn.”

~*~*~

The helicopter waiting took off and took Vladimir back to the triple towers of the Knight’s of Apocalypse, seventy storey tall buildings, all linked together through a network of bridges with large letters K. O. A. written on the top. They landed the chopper down upon the middle building.

Vladimir hadn’t talked the rest of the trip, just looking down upon the paperwork he had and making several notes as he circled times, dates, and made long detailed instructions as he thought out the battle plan he was going to invoke. He walked down the lonely hallway leading to his office, Steena in tow with him keeping silent to her own thoughts as they opened the door.

He looked forward and noticed a man in a fighter’s coat standing before his wall of swords, a mask covering his features save his eyes that were keenly entranced upon Tenacity. He looked upon him and within two seconds he realized what it meant for this man to be inside his office. He noticed Melinda looking to the new comer with a curious eye, unsure what to do as the dwarf remained by her side as a bodyguard.

Unable to contain his emotions Vladimir tossed all his papers towards the trash, his fist flying out and slamming into the door cracking the wood. One word summed up his feelings on the matter.

“SHIT!”

[Tainted Bushido]

"Is that all you can say after seeing me for the first time in centuries?" The figure said. His hand reached up to the mask over his face before it carefully took it off setting it on the desk. His white hair flowed freely over his shoulders, and while he much preferred the clothing of his homeland, he was dressed in a business suit underneath the jacket. The shoes on his feet pinched slightly, adding to his irritability, if only slightly.

Not that anyone would know the difference.

The last true Knight of the Apocalypse looked upon the warrior once more before he shouted again, "SON OF A BITCH!"

"A bit more flavorful, but I think we have room yet to grow," The warrior replied. The hilts of twin blades peeked out of his coat, revealing part of the reason Vladimir was so irate. The coat was blessed in the fact the built in parts of the leather in the coat would always be at the hips, to allow for the scabbards, or as the warrior heavily insisted sayas, to protrude, while not creating an uncomfortable fit for the coat. He continued to look back at the blades on the wall, as the other knights got a good view of his face.

His face was half covered in an inky blackness, to the point that it fully surrounded an eye. That particular eye was a milky white, but seemed fully functional otherwise. The tendrils of darkness continued underneath his suit, potentially going as far as along his body, though no one could ever know. Gloves were on his hands, leather as well, but well built to the point they clung to the hands much as a second skin. The other warriors in the room could guess that the warrior didn't feel hampered by them at all with his movements being so casual.

"FUCK!"

"Ah, finally we reach the crux of the matter, eloquently put Vladimir," The warrior said before he finally turned to face the knight. Valdimir seemed to seethe at seeing the man, to the point Steena shifted her stance ever so slightly. The newcomer didn't even bother to look at her, but she saw a subtle shift in his muscles, to the point she was more than certain he was combat ready already. "I wouldn't try it; your friend here realized the futility of it only moments ago. You wouldn't get your pistol from its holster."

"Stand down Steena, there are few people that match his speed, and of them, only one or two are still alive," Vlad said harshly. He glared daggers at the warrior before he spoke once more, his tone a bit more neutral, "Who fucked up?"

"Business as always, I like that," The warrior replied, before he looked at the others in the room finally he took a graceful bow, "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I merely wished to do introductions all at once; I am Atari Taka, Herald of Enma-o God of Death."

"Taka, stop dawdling, I know you're getting your kicks out of seeing me squirm, so who fucked up!?" Vlad spat.

"No one person, but three as were the case. Cassandra made a power play in the Pantheon. It seems that you chose who to send after her, poorly," Taka replied a hint of amusement in his voice.

"That was never my department, that was Wilfred, Sarah, and Jared's job," Vlad retorted, "I only had Lazarus and Mordechai."

Taka smirked at the mention of the latter two before he spoke frankly, "So you took the easier ones, and tossed the more active ones aside? I should think in that case you would support Sarah and Jared, who don't have the discipline you have, nor the resources."

The room held its breath at the stark accusation. Vladimir himself seemed to grin at it before he replied, "I kept my promises, Mordechai and Lazarus are no where near strong enough to assault the Pantheon."

"Once again, this was everyone's job. Cassandra managed to hide from the world for years before she ascended to godhood. No single group of mortals and immortals should have been in charge of her. In fact I'd go so far as to say she abused you all, sending you every which way in case you were going to support each other," Taka said bluntly.

"How so?" Vladimir said his ire rising with the accusations.

"Well, there was the fact she had one of her priests infiltrate the Temptress. Right there she had advantage, as she knew Jared was gone, Sarah was under the pressure of fully controlling her criminal empire, and that Wilfred simply didn't have the clout Jared had in taking over the club. With Jared out of the puzzle, Cassandra was allowed to move freely, or do you remember what happened when you removed her mortal aspect from this world?"

"How can I? We could have used that asshole, but instead he was off being hurt over Sarah and him having a fight," Vlad hissed.

"That was no coincidence, Jared is an important part of their operation, and yet he continues to disappear from it. At least when you take a task I can be sure it gets done, Cesarino on the other hand..."

"Point taken, fine, what do we do?"

"Well first of all, we need to call the Progenies Immortalis," Taka replied firmly, "Then we need to redraw the map so to speak. We were working with faulty information from the start. I'll be showing you what exactly happened. With the deaths that happened recently Cassandra reaped so much faith that she is close to regaining her mortal aspect. Once she does we have no clue what would happen next. Cassandra, while brutally efficient, is a wild card in the Pantheon. She supports things one moment, to withdraw that support later. She has been playing the pantheon for fools for years, and slowly been building up her cults."

Vlad cursed before he looked at Melinda, "Call the other immortals, every last one of them, have them escorted to this room, and don't let anything get in the way. We need the meeting to go off tonight, no exceptions."

[Lavinian Ambition]

"You going to take that swing, or can I get back to my drink?"

"Fuck you!"

The sound of a fist upon flesh resounded through the bar as a young man, in his early twenties threw a punch at Jared. The fist hit him square in the cheek, turning the Lavinian's head before he grinned, something feral hidden there. He brought a hand up and backhanded the boy, who quickly pirouetted and fell to the floor, unconscious. A sigh left his lips before he muttered, "Horrible fighter, wouldn't last a day in the real world..."

"That's it, that's the second fight you've caused in here. Once I can write off as ruffled feathers, but now I know you're looking for it, out!" The bartender pointed for the door, and Jared sighed, grabbing his drink and finishing it quickly, before dropping a few bills on the counter, "Beers too sweet anyways..."

As he walked outside he saw Wilfred standing there, looking at him. While the golden eyes were not at their full power Jared didn't even venture to meet their gaze. He merely walked pass the Golem, who began to follow behind him. They remained like that for a few minutes before Jared finally snapped, "Hoping I'll snap out of it and come to my senses? Good luck with that one."

"At least don't start a fight at this bar, alright Jared? You don't need the high profile anymore..."Wilfred began.

"Yes, gods forbid should I affect things anymore. I'm just to be a good little boy who sits in mother's lap while the rest of the world continues to skull fuck me with a rusty knife. Thanks Will I'll keep that under advisement."

"You know that's not what I said," Wilfred said firmly.

"But isn't that the name of the game nowadays?" Jared hissed. He gestured to the world around him before he said, "We're supposed to be some of the strongest people on this planet, but we aren't allowed to show the people that strength. We aren't even allowed to fart without permission, lest Seth come down on us and make us suffer for daring to actually live! I'm sick of all the rules, all the expectations. I'm sick of it Wilfred!"

"So this isn't about Sarah's indiscretions?"

Jared slumped against the wall as he groaned thinking about it again. He sighed before he pushed off the wall and continued walking down the street. The alcohol was flooded in his system, and now he was just trying to find another bottle to drain. His eye lost a bit of their fire at the mention of Sarah before he shook his head, trying to avoid that particular subject.

However the alcohol wasn't letting him leave it alone.

Entering the next bar the hustle and bustle was evident as TV's blared out the latest sports game. Jared was never one for professional sports, and so he moved to a section of the bar quieter, probably reserved for those who didn't have a vested interest in the game. The tender looked up at the two of them before he asked, "What you want? I'll try to make it quick..."

"Give me three Endtimes," Jared said firmly.

The tender raised an eyebrow before he said, "Three? That's a lot of alcohol..."

"I don't want to feel it till morning..." Jared replied.

"That'll do it. What about you golden eyes?" The tender replied looking up at Wilfred.

"Black Magos Lord," The Golem replied.

The tender frowned, "That got any other name?"

"Nope."

"Look, I've heard of a White Mage, which is light rum and coke, a Black Mage which is dark rum and coke, but what in the hell is a Black Magus Lord?"

"Coke," Wilfred replied bluntly.

The tender just stared at him before he shook his head muttering about weirdos before he said, "Alright, three Endtimes and a Black Magus Lord coming up..." Jared dropped a card on the counter, which the tender greedily put into the carousel for check out later. He then set about making the drinks before he slid a shot down to Jared.

"You should forgive her you know," Wilfred finally said.

"I could forgive her fucking anyone else but Jensen. I mean its Jensen, what in the bluest fuck was she thinking?" Jared said running a hand through his hair. The feeling was heightened by his intoxicated state to the point he almost did so again, for the sheer fun of it.

"So you aren't angry at Sarah?"

"Oh, I am. I mean..." Jared sighed as he watched the second shot slide in front of him. He shook his head before he said, "I just don't know anymore Wilfred. What good am I for her? I don't think she needs me, and I sure as hell don't need her..."

"For the love of the gods Jared, would you listen to yourself? I've listened to you do this song and dance for a thousand years Jared, a thousand. I think I know enough about Sarah, that I could have had sex with her. That's right, I could have had sex with your wife. I'm sick of you complaining about the relationship, when you have one of the best out of all of us. You bitch and moan and complain, but what good does it do other than underline you weren't happy to begin with Jared?" Wilfred said finally as he sipped his soda. Shaking his head he growled lowly before he said, "I mean, come on man, you have Sarah Dahlios as a dedicated Lover, who could top that?"

"Jensen apparently," Jared retorted.

"It's about that, isn't it? I get it, you don't think Jensen should have been anywhere around Sarah. She was desperate Jared. She didn't know who to turn to, and so she decided to do something she knew would upset you. It just, didn't have the effect she wanted, and so she got more drastic when she realized it wasn't working," Wilfred tried to explain.

"Are you trying to justify Sarah cheating on me Wilfred?" Jared replied. He then gripped one of the three shots and downed it quickly. He let out a wet cough but nodded feeling the alcohol grip him tightly and smack him around a bit. This is what he wanted, nothing like the beers he had tried earlier. He should have known better than drinking contemporary beer. Even the stouts of some brands were nothing compared to the olden days. Now there were rules, regulations that said how much alcohol could be in them.

Gods, how he hated modern society.

"Look Jared, I'm not trying to say what she did was right or wrong, merely explain it to you. You have to decide whether she's worth chasing after again or not. But let me ask you this, were you happy with her?"

Jared’s expression softened, before he downed the second shot. He shook his head to clear a bit of the fog that had enveloped it. He had enjoyed it, and as time went on he was certain he had made the right choice, he just...

"I just, never felt like we were a true family. Then there's this whole Cassandra problem, with her getting faith out from under our very noses. And look, nobody cares, no body is going to give a rat's ass if they die tomorrow. They live for the here and now!"

"You can't blame yourself for the world's problems Jared. The world created them without your royal permission, and even though you can clearly see the cause, you aren't allowed to fix them. That's everyone else's job," Wilfred said sternly.

"Heh, funny that, the world has a job, and its fucking that up too..." Jared replied before the third shot hit. He grinned sloppily as he felt the alcohol rush through his system, and he was more than certain he was heavily drunk. To put a fine point on it, he was hammered, possibly at the edge of poisoning himself. While he would have loved to go over the edge, he remained there even as the tender came back. Jared shook his head when asked for more drinks, and the tender quickly rang him up. The card was slipped back into a wallet as he clumped against the bar, feeling incredibly tired suddenly.

It was around that time that Wilfred saw his cellphone ringing, and cautiously answered. His eyes widened when he heard the words on the other end, before he reported their position. Soon he finished his drink and said to Jared, "Come on, we need to get onto the sidewalk."

"Fuck it," Jared replied firmly.

"No, we need to go, now!" Wilfred insisted. Jared looked up at him groggily before the black mage carefully slung one of Jared's arms over his shoulder and walked him out. They stood on the widewalk, before a limousine pulled up outside. Wilfred pushed Jared inside, who flopped onto the seat.

"What the fucks going on? Sarah need me?" Jared slurred. His eyes held a hint of confusion.

"No, a Progenies Immortalis was called..." Wilfred said.


~*~

Progenies Immortalis was one of the few events that all the immortals, regardless of status or task, were required to attend. When one was called it was usually to fix a royal screw up, or respond to an overwhelming threat. When the order was given, people responded immediately, and made way to the location. Sometimes it was the Temptress, others it was the Dahlios family farm, but today, was Vladimir's private sanctum.

A circular table had been set up, such that everyone could be easily seated about it. The circle was for the obvious reason that these people were contemporaries, peers to each other. While that was done in theory, the reality seldom proved this to be the case. Made clearly evident when Sarah, who had finally managed to pull herself together, saw the drunken Jared dropped into the seat next to her. She could smell the stench of Alcohol pervading him, and let a soft sigh escape her lips.

Taka was seated over by Seth and Liliana, who weren't dressed at all for the occasion, still in normal clothing. Not that attire mattered much in these meetings. Vlad was at another section of the table, with Jensen next to him who seemed to have a malicious gleam in his eyes as he spied the drunken Jared sitting at the table. Wilfred sat between the two, to prevent Jared being abused by the Champion of Famine during the meeting. Aislinn and Melinda sat on the sidelines, down by Vladimir's desk, watching the gathering with apprehension.

With the eight of them sitting down, Vladimir looked at Taka who stood up casually, "I'm glad we could be assembled this quickly. It gives me hope we can fix the situation before it gets out of hand. Even though I do question the state of some of us at this table-"

"Fuck off Taka," Jared snapped; leaning forward on the table, "I can hold my alcohol. Don't worry about that, just worry about your own ass."

"That's precisely the problem, everyone was so wrapped up in their own petty problems, that instead of focusing on their tasks, they weren't getting done. That's exactly why Cassandra is on the verge of resurrection; we need to figure out what we can do to stop it, and how we can prevent her from taking advantage of us, again. Though I should hope you could be professional enough to accept that you failed-"

"Taka, please, we've had enough browbeating about how we messed up, can we move on?" Sarah said, before Jared could reply. She could see the anger between the two brewing. Back when Cassandra had her mortal aspect removed from Althanas, she had caused a fight between Sarah and Jared. Taking advantage of it, she had orchestrated one of her high priests to take advantage of Jared after the argument, isolating him from the others. When the time came to fight Cassandra, she had one less immortal to deal with, which caused many problems when she nearly overwhelmed the group that mustered against her.

After the fight Taka had made his anger at Jared known, one of the few displays of emotion the samurai had ever shown someone.

And Jared made his known when he punch Taka out, the samurai never expecting the Lavinian to hit him when roused to anger. That one sucker punch had caused the Herald of Enma-o to take every chance to point out that Jared wasn't trustworthy. Combined with Jared's guilt on being the eighth true Traitor General, the hostility made tensions between the two palpable. Added with the arrogance Taka got away with for stopping Marduk single handedly, and it led to two egos going at it. The eternal dick measuring causing even the Lavinian Succubus to get annoyed at it, and she was sure more than a couple of other seats at the table were relieved to see her cut it off at the pass.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The immortals had bickered for hours it seemed. The night time had drolled on stubbornly as Steena Windsong entered with a cart of food before retiring for the night. She had happened upon Vladimir and Sarah nearly ripping each other’s face off as the Succubus and him nearly went to blows over her stealing his bullet shipments. Jared the entire time remained heatedly arguing with Taka about who was in charge of what and who did this or that while Seth drained bottle after bottle of Lavinain ale.

Aislinen and Melinda watched the evnts with wide eyes and confused expressions. This was nothing like they expected of the immortals. They were expecting a military like baord meeting, with both of them being called upon to do some menial tasks to aid them. It was downright awkward for them to sit upon the couch, listening as Jared was going into gross details about what exactly Taka good do with his mask and his anus.

This continued into the night as Lilinna and Wilfred tried to establish a peace of sorts. This of course, was just a waste of time.

The golem had rolled his eyes for what had to been the thirteenth time in the past hour and a half. The only thing the so called council of immortality had managed to accomplish was agree that Taka and Jared were not allowed to speak to each other, Jensen wasn’t allowed to speak at all, and Lavinian Ale was needed in excess quantities.

He rubbed his eyes a bit before he stood up walking over to the little cart of drinks and food left for the immortals, Vladimir arguing with Seth about who’s fault it was for Cassandra even becoming a god in the first place. This blame eventually shifted to Taka, for he claimed to know what was going on but did nothing about it, which then spurred Jared to speak in slurred statements of hate and spite. Sarah sighed forty times, Liliana rubbed her temples and Jensen was asleep in the crook of his arms.

“I was told that this would be something special,” Aislinne whispered to Melinda.

“Normally, that’s never the case.” Wilfred whispered back as he sat down next to her. It was early in the morning, around three thirty or so the golem guessed as he looked to the position of the moon. Melinda sat on the other side of him, and both girls at once leaned into him as they nuzzled around his chest to get comfortable. The golem felt his blood tingle and figured the drinks must have been the cause.

“This is really, really pathetic.” Melinda muttered. “I mean, they have a god about to be reborn, and nobodies doing anything about it.” Wilfred sighed deeply.

“Well, this is just me, but I think everyone’s pride is currently been hung out to dry. Cassandra Remi has done an excellent job within the Pantheon to weave a web the Spider Queen N’Jal would drop her jaw at. So naturally everyone is protecting their pride from her power play. Taka showing up and making matters worse by insulting Jared and implying that the blame lies within the other immortals has only upset a drunken Jared who was upset to begin with.”

Wilfred sipped his drink. “Seth never had patience at these things. He usually grew very bored, sighing loudly to draw attention to himself and muttering the words idiot over and over and over.” He pointed to Vladimir. “For the most part, he’s been good, but Lord Sigma’s had his share of annoying qualities. When Mordechi was about to be resurrected he called the Progenies Immortalis and then blamed everyone else for not coming to help him, when he refused the help to begin with.”

“Lady Mizami mentioned she and Jared were for the most part cooperative.”

“You do know how much a crock of lies that statement was, correct?” Wilfred teased looking to the girl. She smiled.

“The second she said it I could imagine her grabbing one of the immortals by the hair and slamming his head into the desk.”

“It was a bottle of ale, and it was over Vladimir’s head.” Wilfred corrected.

“This is a joke.” Melinda said sighing deeply. Wilfred shook his head.

“Not at all. This is needed. Yes, I agree, this is all really childish, but in the end we all need this moment to argue, yell, scream, vent, curse, blaspheme and more or less get everything out of our system that’s been clouding our minds to stop us from doing our jobs.” Wilfred took another sip.

“So when does this stupid council get back on track?” Melinda said heatedly. Wilfred tapped both girls on the shoulder and they rose.

“When I feel that everyone has vented. Jared seems to be at least a little bit sober, Sarah has lost her attitude, Seth is starting to sigh again and Vladimir’s been silent for twenty minutes. Time for the council to begin…” He stepped up and walked forwards as he rose his hands up like a teacher. Liliana looked over to him and smiled sweetly, shaking her head like hew as a foolish child trying to do a silly stunt for attention. “Your attentions, please.” Wilfed said calmly. The bickering continued between Seth, Taka, and Jared. “Your attentions, please.” Wilfred said more forcefully. Seth gave him a dirty look before going back to insulting the samurai and the Lavinain. Wilfred smiled to himself before he zipped his jacket all the way up.

The clouds outside the window’s began to swirl in motion, the first to notice this Vladimir who started to call for everyone to shut up. Angered by the Last Knight of Apocalypse’s interruptions Jared threw a bottle at him. Sarah gave Jared a dirty look as her eyes glanced out the window. She too began to notice the change in weather.

“Please, your attention.” Wilfred said one final time. Taka and Jared stood up, arguing about something trivial as Seth pointed to Jared accusingly. At long last Wilfred unleashed his frustrations as the storm rolled high over the building, lightening striking the complex in the side as the rain howled with hail slamming into the windows. A small pillar of fire snaked it’s way up from Wilfred’s feet, looking upon the room with hungry eyes as he glared to the other seven immortals. Jared and Sarah both moved away from him as Taka gave him a look of apology, Seth’s eyes just alight with fire as he grinned to the golem.

When he had the rooms attention he smiled and the theatrics ceased immediately as the snake vanished from the air, the storm ended, and the hail was gone.

“Glad that I got your attentions.” He said moving along the table to his seat, his fist slamming down upon Jensen’s head as he gripped the immortals head within his fingers. He pulled back and tossed Jensen awake, who slurped his drool back into his mouth as he muttered his surprise.

“It go time?” He smacked his lips. Vladimir gave him a disgusted look before he turned back to Wilfred.

“That it is.” Wilfred said as he talked in his commanding teaching tone. “We have all vented enough, now let’s get to work. Aerith is number one suspect to identifying the Saint of Killers. She is our top priority.”

“Her last known location was in the Corone slums, running away from the college. This came from a student eye witness one of my girls happened to know.” Sarah said looking at her notes before she tapped a fingernail on her chin. “So she’s left the coop at this point. Ideally there is one place she would go.”

“Otaria.” They all said in unison.

“Lucky for us she has to spend a night in town as there is ever one flight out to Otaria from this part of Corone. Word is sent to detain her at the airport.” Vladimir said as he stood up and pulled out a clicker. He hit the tiny button and a projector fell from the roof before it displayed all of Aerith’s background information. “I had Omega do some research on her. There was one set of files she tried to have purged from all records. Luckily for all of us Omega immediately makes copies of files being destroyed via remote terminals or virus’ and stores the data for sixty years before recycling it out.”

He approached the wall and touched a folder, which the computer technology immediately opened. He pointed to a file and the paperwork filed the screen. “I had Steena go over her childhood. Little red head was more than just the victim of child abuse and all the usual sob stories. She had therapy on her dreams of killing people. Anyone think this rings a bell?”

“Cassandran filth.” Seth spat. “Usual signs of someone who has been touched by Cassandra. The question is why so young?”

“Because a Saint of Killers must operate outside mortal conventions.” Taka said taking control of the conversation. “I will say this but once, so please keep your ears open Cesarino.” The lavinian gave him a warning glance. “His knowledge on Saint of Killers has allowed me to do my own investigation and bring some useful, but highly disturbing news to everyone.” He flexed his fingers a bit before he took a sip of his water.

“The Saint of Killers is a person who is personally deeply touched by Cassandra Remi. They share her passion for deaths, for killing. They act like she would act, and thus they are incredibly hard to track down. They seem easier to find in fairy tales than in real life. Yet with Jared’s underground investigations as well as his crime scene tapes I was able to start piecing together a form of…habit so to speak that the killer is following.”

“This leaves me to believe that Aerith was planted into the game long before we were aware. Cassandra is like a cat in a window, purring intently as she watches the mortal world from the Pantheon. Many gods have vied for her aid and support, only to have her agents pull out at critical moments. As much as we have had success, about a quarter of them were thanks to her manipulations in the Pantheon.” Taka shook his head at the thought of gods combining forces.

“Yet each interruption wasn’t unfounded. She’s been studying from the heavens, watching down upon you all through mortal eyes, using her killers to learn about you, as well as those of the other cults. She takes great interest to learn all about you, and at last she found the time to strike. This girl, Aerith, represents Cassandra’s past motives of using pawns to get what she wanted. Aerith may either be unaware of what is happening, or has fallen under her spell, convinced she loves her. However, all this is irrelevant if we didn‘t have information on how Cassandra operates.”

Taka nodded to Jared, and the Lavinian seemed to sober up as he felt the conversation pass to him. “Serial Killers don’t generate the faith that will help a god‘s divine spark. Most of the kills they do are more for themselves than for a god, so the faith generated is minimal if any is generated at all. This asks the obvious question: How the hell does Cassandra Remi generate faith?” Jared looked around the table as he felt all the eyes upon him.

“The answer is a kill that matches her song; The Requiem of Insanity. A killer who sheds blood for sport, for the pleasure of it is not enough. But someone who feels the need for the kill, the thrill of the kill in torturing their foe, breaking them mind, body, spirit and soul, eventually go to a zen like state. As they kill, they begin looking and finding more and more ways to make the kills that much sweeter to them. At long last they begin to find those who scream at a certain pitch, those with terrible regrets in life that can only be brought to life by their blades.”

He rolled his hands as the information began to leak out his mouth. “The faith that is generated is not from the act, but the screams emitted. Those who scream for hours begin to call out for death, which perks Cassandra’s curiosity. They soon begin to beg for her kiss, her sweet release, which she feeds off of. So in someway, Cassandran priests do nothing more than tickle her fancy, but the Saint of Killers, someone who has been blessed with her methods, can really reap faith.”

“This is all really interesting news, fascinating…” Jensen said smugly. “It still doesn’t solve a damn problem.”

“But it does, young idiot.” Taka said matter of factly. “By figuring out how they generate faith, we can use the motives to easier track them down. If they target people with true regrets, regrets that can only be brought near the call of death, than we can start to locate people who would fit those descriptions.”

Vladimir rose from his deep thought. “Omega, cross reference the last twelve most wanted Criminals.” he said to the air, but Taka only lifted a staying hand.

“Already done. I did the check myself. And yes, it is as we all feared.” Taka dropped the dossier on the table, which may as well have been a ticking time bomb with the numbers 00:01 remaining on it.

“All these can be confirmed?” Sarah asked as her eyes went wide.

“Deities like Selios and myself can see faith even when the crime scene is gone. I have verified all twelve myself, which is why I have been so silent as of late.” he looked over to Vladimir.

“The new question is, where the hell is she going to resurrect?” Seth said as he eyed the bottom of the bottle in his hand with a sad pout.

The room remained silent as they all thought about it. Before long all eyes softly turned, slowly and causally as they looked towards the deity at the end of the table with the empty bottle. Seth looked to each of them back before he turned his face into a scowl.

“No, out of the question, not going!” He said angrily.

“What’s everyone talking about?” Aislinne whispered to Wilfred as the immortals all began to taunt him and plead with him. The golem turned back to her with a kind smile.

“He’s going to the deific library whether he likes it or not.” Wilfred grinned under his jacket.

“What the hell is a deific library?” Melinda asked.

“It’s just that.” Wilfred said academically. “A library for Deities. All the knowledge of the world, every scrap, significant or not, is stored there. Family trees can easily be seen no matter how much people tried to burn their links away. History of events big and small are recorded down and filed away. You think the gods know all and see all? Try again. They go to a library, like we humans do, and look up the person’s history and then leave divine ‘miracles’ to show they follow this person. This makes the human feel extra special and they worship the god forever.”

“So being a god is essentially…” Melinda said quietly.

“Being a human, but with more rules.” Wilfred said smartly.

[Dissinger]

"How do I get roped into these things?" Seth muttered under his breath. The pantheon of the gods was a difficult place; perhaps even trying was a better term. Going there required a large amount of faith, and once inside, it could be difficult to escape until a sufficient amount of faith was used to leave the demi-plane. For this reason alone, Seth preferred the mortal realms to the Pantheon, and for that reason, the other gods ridiculed him.

Being one of the youngest gods alive didn’t help things either.

In the grand scheme of things, Seth was considered small potatoes to the other gods. He was too small to matter, but too important to just leave alone. It created its share of tense situations, when Seth, who at times was the villain and others the hero, was forced to act in accordance with his deific portfolio, that of balance. With the added problem, that he didn’t proliferate his cults like the other gods did, and really he was by far one of the weaker gods, with perhaps Tiamet’s Jailer, Marduk, being the only one weaker.

And, with the constant jumping about the plane with Liliana, his flame had diminished not unlike a flickering candle in the wind. For this reason alone, he had Liliana go forth to strengthen the cults. A few divine acts done fairly quickly could increase a fellowship, if only bit by bit. The creation of a few more cults would increase his name, and therefore grant him some much needed faith, especially if he was to leave the Pantheon anytime soon.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” The voice held a hint of amusement in it, if only a tinge of ire. Seth turned to look upon the figure, seeing a man dressed very uncharacteristically of the rest of the pantheon. His clothing was primal, armor adorned his chest, and his hands were wrapped in clawed gauntlets. His face was covered in a visor shaped like a dragons face, and his eyes held an amused light within them. His hair was braided into locks that held a small bone or skull at the end of each one, marking his profession before he became a god.

He was also locked in a cage, punished for his hubris, and left to rot.

“I thought I smelled something. Should have known it was just your brand of failure Marduk,” Seth retorted, taking a few steps past.

A low chuckle echoed across the entry halls of the Pantheon before the Shaman spoke his voice mocking, “Says the man who could almost be my peer. So, what brings Selios, God of Balance finally back home to the Pantheon, rather than playing around on his precious farm…”

“None of your business Jailer, why don’t you worry about getting free first, before you go about harassing your betters…”

“You aren’t better, merely superiorly placed, for now…” Marduk said, a malicious grin showing behind the mask, even before he pulled it back to reveal his face. Seth looking into the face of the madman, even as he continued, “Enjoy your position Selios, relish in it. One day, this all ends, and that bitch boy Taka will be the first to feel my might. Then, I’ll start with the man who ripped my faith store out from under me, you.”

“So, you figured that out did you?”

“Hard not to, when a bitch strike from a mere Herald can fell the mortal aspect of a God in one fell swoop,” Marduk hissed.

“So glad to see my more subtle moves are appreciated, by the one they’re put upon,” Seth replied a smirk on his face. He moved beyond the cage, ignoring any further words the Shaman could say about the matter, even as he heard the cursing and railing.


~*~

Finally reaching the Library Seth was a bit wary, the political atmosphere of the Pantheon charging the air deliberately. The world seemed different when one god began to rise to prominence. In the old days it was just an everyday occurrence, but now that a god taking power could upset the decisions of mortals, it was a whole new ball game. Now, it was filled with those Gods who would appease the rising star and those that would plot its downfall.

Seth had to snort some days at the hypocrisy. Those who would normally never align with gods, suddenly found time to talk to them, in the hopes of gleaning even a modest amount of faith, before it was snatched away by another. Nowadays, Seth avoided the Pantheon to save himself from having to bear witness to these backroom deals. He had long since vowed never to do that, and because of it, he had not enjoyed the inflated amount of faith the others had, coming by his the old fashioned way.

This of course caused the other gods to ridicule him for his convictions.

Seth was musing about how the gods had destroyed their own faith, in order to become addicted to the faith of others. Perhaps mankind had seen the corruption of the Pantheon, and made their choice to malign the gods for their lack of conviction. Either way, the time had come and gone, and the Gods were found lacking, so humanity had left them behind. The Gods, desperate for the attention of the mortals of their kingdom, had done everything in their power to make them worship the foolish deities.

So Seth had stepped in.

Moving into the library he saw a few of the other gods wandering about, pulling books from the shelves to study. Seth was polite, only responding to those who threw him a greeting, being silent for those who would ignore him. He knew these gods were the ones who at least tried to reap more faith in the world. However, he also knew the two in the center, were the ones he least wanted to see, if only for what they represented.

Sitting across from each other, were two old men. Between them was what could be called a chessboard, if only done in a more three dimensional way. There were three boards between the men, and the pieces were scattered amongst them. The one side had a multitude of pieces, forming an army any general could be proud to own. The other side held fewer units, and from Seth’s experience knew this was because they were supposedly superior, only able to be captured when taken from certain angles. The game was balanced, this much Seth knew, but the rules were so convoluted that he refused to take part in it.

That was mainly because the two gods who played it with any regularity were Mordechai and Lazarus, two of the three mythic brothers.

Moving past the table he heard what little conversation stop. The two players looked upon the newcomer with a grim visage. Seth gave them a small wry grin before he spoke, “Evening gentlemen.”

“I see they let anyone in here nowadays. Shame to see the Pantheon reduced to such gutter trash,” One man said as he moved a piece on the board.

“I think we should have made a rule against those who ascend to godhood by stealing another god’s essence. Poor Sintyre, forgotten in name, and now forced to fuel those he hated with divinity…”

Seth, long since tired of such antics, moved and nudged the table, knocking over several pieces before he feigned a look of concern, “Oh, I’m so sorry gentlemen. Did I ruin your game? Here let me clean that up…”

“No, no. That is quite alright…” One of them said, shooing the lesser deity away. Seth merely laughed as he moved through the library not caring who he disturbed at that point. He moved until finally he saw the section he needed, and sighed, seeing the last man he wanted to before the doors. Bromer Seraph god of Wisdom stood before the doorway to the Deific Library, his arms crossed and a look of subtle consternation on his face.

“So, were you planning on just waltzing in here without the requisite endorsements?”

[Lavinian Ambition]

"When do you have to go in for paperwork?" Sarah asked Jared as the meeting broke up.

He sighed looking at his watch before he said softly, "I should be at the station in a few hours. I figure I get home take a nap and head out, or maybe just head out from here. I can just get it over and done with."

Sarah looked over at Vlad before she called out, "Vlad I'm using one of your meeting rooms, I figure the first one I find."

The leader of the Knights of Apocalypse frowned at the statement before he said, "Fine, but if I need to get the room cleaned, you are paying for it."

"Fair enough," Sarah said before she moved with Jared down a floor. It didn't take them long to find a meeting room that fit what she had in mind, finding a long table with many chairs. What she desired, was the couch that sat against the far wall, and much to her pleasure it was not a leather one. Instead she could see it was made of cloth, and that would suit her purposes just fine. Changing the placard to read in use she locked the doors before she spied Jared tiredly sitting upon the table.

Moving Jared over to the couch she sat him down before she sat next to him and spoke softly, "Perhaps we should talk Jared…"

Jared felt all desire to keep moving leave him as soon as she had thrown him onto the couch, his eyes burning from fatigue. Looking over at her he sighed before he said softly, "What is there to talk about? I'm a horrible husband and you're my adorable cheating wife…"

Sarah raised an eyebrow at the accusation before she reached forward and gently stroked a stray strand of hair from his face before she whispered softly, "I messed up more than you did. You only did what I asked you to, and then punished you for doing it. When we took on this life, this job, we made certain promises, do you remember them?"

He chuckled as he leaned his head back on the couch, "How can I forget? That day was perhaps one of the better days I've had. We promised to be there for each other, we promised not to let our emotions get in the way of completing the job, and we promised that no matter what, neither of us would start the apocalypse because the other died again…"

She smiled hearing that last one before she said softly, "And frankly, I let my desires get in the way of you doing your job. When I felt we weren't doing enough to go after the Saint of Killers, I yelled at you, a lot. I felt like we were avoiding our job in staying purely reactionary. I never stopped to think about the resources it would take to go on the offensive against the Cassandran cults. Instead, I put that pressure on you to get it done, now. Look where that got us? I forced you to break our first promise, and even then we got nothing but trouble for our efforts…"

He nodded tiredly before he Felt Sarah's cooler body brush up against his. Her head rested on his shoulder before he said softly, "So, Jensen eh?"

She groaned hearing the name before she whispered softly, "I thought it would piss you off enough to get you out of hiding…I regret that decision."

"You know that's your one this century right?" Jared asked a grin on his lips.

Sarah shook her head before she said, "No, I refuse to waste it on that!"

Jared laughed tiredly before he kissed her before he spoke softly, "If you decide to actually call it cheating, then I get one free screw up. Considering it was Jensen, I'm making it a large one…"

Sarah looked into Jared's eyes searching for the joke, before she sighed and nodded, "Fair enough."

"Sarah?" Jared asked opening his eyes. She looked into the confused grey orbs before she nodded, wishing him to go ahead, finally he spoke, "Do you ever get tired of hiding from all this?" He asked gesturing to the building about them, the city, perhaps even the world.

Her face softened before she gently cupped his cheek and whispered, "Jared, our place is no longer there. When the last of our direct descendants died, we lost all rights to call this world ours. We can't think like that baby." She kissed him before she whispered, "They wouldn't accept us, even if we wished."

Jared sighed hugging her close. She moved to sitting in his laps as he did so, offering the both of them a bit of comfort before he sighed, "It doesn't help that I'm feeling like that. I mean…what are we doing? They don't care and we certainly shouldn't stick our necks out for them. If they knew about who you really were they'd have staked you. How can we keep sacrificing for this world?"

"Because my love, they made a choice long ago. They chose this path, and as their guardians, it is our job to keep them upon it. We have come this far, we can't turn back now…" Sarah replied firmly. She gently rested her forehead against his, looking deep into his stormy grey eyes before she whispered, "You're tired, and your angry love. I can see it. I'm sure Aislinn would have noticed too had you spoken up more at the meeting. You need to sleep."

As Sarah pulled back he nodded yawning. She carefully slipped from his lap before she patted hers and whispered, "Rest here love; I'll wake you when it is time to leave." Jared nodded resting his head in her lap, as she gently stroked his hair lovingly. She leaned down and kissed his temple, "Sleep love."

[Lavinian Pride]

Sarah sat in the limousine waiting for the driver to take her back to her club. Already the sun had begun its ascension into the sky, and marking the time Sarah should go to sleep. However, the club had to be worked on, and it was time for her to start the process of working the schedules for the next week as it was. She sighed softly shaking her head to clear a bit of the fog. The entirety of last night was one huge headache, and she wasn't sure she wanted to feel any more pain.

Aislinn sat next to her and yawned, feeling a similar amount of fatigue. Having never been privy to the meeting of the immortal progeny she had expected it to be far more direct than it was. The fact of the matter was, in all these years being on the planet, apparently nothing had changed. They were still adventurers, and loners, and ultimately it made sense why calling such a meeting was a big deal. They just couldn't get the job done if they were fighting with each other over how to do that job.

Even between Jared and Sarah there was arguments over how to get the job done. It had led to a small rift in the staff of the Temptress, with those under Jared's care and those under Sarah's. The end result was a final argument that forced Jared to go undercover, and those under Jared's wing leaving the club one after another. With Jared's return, there was still that rift over this job, which meant their relationship hadn't healed either.

Needless to say, things had to change or the same argument would drive out Jared again and again until finally Sarah and Jared couldn't function anymore. So when Aislinn saw Sarah lulling off to sleep in the seat of the car she ventured to talk with her, knowing full well she was bringing Sarah's full attention at her crabbiest time of day, "Have you tried talking with Jared about what's going on with the marriage?"

Sarah's eyes opened before she looked at Aislinn, almost sensing whether or not the girl wanted to actually bring that up. Finally she shook her head slowly and said, "Nope, and probably won't we'll deal with this like everything else, after the problem is solved..."

Aislinn frowned as the car took a turn harsher than normal. She steadied herself with a hand before she said, "You aren't even going to talk to Jared about the divorce? So what are you going to do? Sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn't happen?"

"Is there a problem with that?" Sarah replied an eyebrow raised.

"Yes!" Aislinn finally cried out. Her hands were balled u into fists as she felt the urge to throttle her employer for the first time since Jared had taught Aislinn the important lesson of being their right hand woman. It had been impressed upon her, as Jared went out of his way just to annoy the girl, that the point of being their second in command, wasn't for them to pawn off work. The real reason she was there was to reconnect them to humanity and to yell at them when they threatened to give it up, for the sake of protecting the choice made centuries ago.

Sarah meanwhile looked at Aislinn, her disgusted look implied the girl had grown a third head. Perhaps even telling Sarah she was actually a cleverly disguised Drow assassin who had finally gotten what she needed to kill the vampire. Aislinn wasn't sure she was wholly dissatisfied with the look but pushed on, "You need to talk this out Sarah. If you just keep sweeping it under the rug, you're begging this to keep happening until Jared finally gets fed up with it!"

"Aislinn, if two millennia together hasn't given us a reason to split permanently, I doubt something as trivial as the marriage will do so," Sarah replied placing a hand over Aislinn's own. The young woman knew this was Sarah's means of saying the topic was over and there was nothing more to say about it.

"Jared's hurting Sarah, you know that better than me. He wouldn't shove you out of his lap unless you struck a blow he couldn't cover. The fact he ran off in his jeep rather than talk about it? I haven't seen him do that ever Sarah," Aislinn pressed. Sarah gave her a dangerous look, one that seemed to belie the anger at being lectured on her habits with Jared. To Aislinn's credit she didn't flinch as she met the gaze coolly.

"So this is entirely my fault?" Sarah asked her voice soft and dangerous. Aislinn sighed looking down, avoiding eye contact. Sarah was already emotional, tired and to top it off now talking about the one thing she told Aislinn not to. It only made sense she began to use frightening tactics of attacking the basis of the conversation.

"No, it’s Jensen's fault. We both know he tends to...manipulate things for his amusement. I wouldn't put it past him to try and push you to doing it so that he could torment Jared with it later," Aislinn finally said, looking up at Sarah, "And frankly, I think after the meeting at the dorms, he's shown that was exactly his reasoning. I still think you need to talk to Jared, because this isn't going to go away. Its like Jared and those names, he won’t let anyone help him get over it, because he's almost happy in his mis-"

"I think you've had enough time around the other immortals for today. I also think you're rather tired, and you're pushing boundaries you know you shouldn't be. So, I'm going to be nice and ignore the fact this conversation happened Aislinn, and for both our sakes, you will not ever bring it up again, not even to Jared. Am I clear on this matter?" Sarah replied looking into Aislinn's eyes and drilling into the woman's psyche.

Aislinn let out a sigh of defeat before she spoke softly, "Yes Mi'lady, it will not happen again."

"Good, now if you'll excuse me, I have a nap to take while this Limo takes the scenic route to my club," Sarah replied tersely.

[Requiem of Insanity]

Time was meaningless to a god. It passed slowly, painfully slowly. It ate away at the soul until it left behind only a fragment of the sanity it once held. The worst part of it all was the march of the people below. The lives of humans that never looked up to ask the gods for help.

Humanity once thought that to be a god was to become all powerful, become something great that could do anything. The truth was so ugly compared to the innocent notion. A god’s power wasn’t limitless unless the faithful believed it to be so. It was very restricted, small acts of faith to a human costs so much for a god to perform. Thus humanity lost it’s faith in the gods.

Nowadays, to be a god was the most brutal torture anyone could endure.

Sitting lazily upon a cushioned satin pillow was Cassandra Remi, goddess of Blessed Torture. She lay in front of a large glass that looked down upon the human world from a distance. This window was known within the Pantheon as The Eye of God. It was the only window to look down upon the human world when a god lost their physical manifestation. Some would think that a god could see all, hear all, be above all. The truth was that without a physical presence within the world, they could only gaze from the heavens with foggy glasses, never being able to see or hear or learn of what the world was doing.

The goddess was bored again. She purred softly to herself as she watched the clouds pass by. She traced her finger along the glass, making a soft shape of a bunny in the clouds over the Savion hills. She softly traced the outline of a sword in another cloud as it softly closed in on the bunny cloud. She smiled as she watched the two meet, decapitating the cloud.

Cassandra had become a god long ago, back when the world was still young. She had learned the ancient rites from a tablet she took from one of her choice kills back in her prime. Her lover and she decided to become gods, to make the world listen to her twisted song; the Requiem of Insanity. Seven years it took for her to get ready to ascend, and when she finally did her world was changed forever.

The ritual split her spirit in two forcing away her dark ambitions, her twisted lover. She was to live as a god without him, to no longer be able to hear his voice or feel his gentle touch. This was the ultimate form of agony she could ever experience. To not be with her lover awoken her dormant powers, fueling that which she would become. With the powers of her ritual she ascended to become the goddess of Blessed Torture. She cared not though, for she couldn’t be with her lover anymore. Godhood for Cassandra was irony. One sick joke she woke up to everyday for eternity.

She had managed to keep a physical aspect in the world, and soon she began to cultivate her cult to find a way to reunite her with her dark companion. She was close, so very close to being with him again when Selios, god of balance, tossed the Pantheon into the dark age destroying all her work and resetting the power in the house of the gods. This created a sundering of sorts. The lesser gods began to unite and go against the older gods, challenging them for the right to be part of the larger picture. Chodan, god of Savion, was one such god that was swept aside and forever lost in this sundering, destroyed by multiple lesser gods.

Cassandra had fended for herself, fighting off many gods who tried to kill her for power. Without the help of N’Jal she surely would have died. In return she killed the lesser gods trying to stop the spider queen, and her power grew again. Eventually the wars ended and the Pantheon was back to a neutral state. The lesser gods and the older gods had restored themselves back to a working order and life changed to one boring day after another.

Selios was to blame. He didn’t even stick around to see the destruction he caused.

Cassandra had never lost hope, however. She believed that one day she could make the world hear her song and be with her love again. It took a long time, but eventually she regained enough power to leave the Pantheon with a new physical manifestation. Once again she was about to reunite with her dark ambitions, but this time it was a combined effort of a group of immortals that killed her.

She really began to hate the Dahlios family. Serenity Dahlios, Seth’s daughter, had managed to kill her back when she was still a mortal. Without the love of her dark ambitions to retrieve her from the void she wouldn’t even be a mutter in some textbook. Seth himself had managed to pull the plug by restoring all the balance in the world of the gods, thus stopping her from reuniting with her love. Sarah Dahlios had even managed to kill her physical aspect, with the help of an abomination created by a botched ritual, a golem, and an immortal.

Now her days were spent lazily sitting upon her pillow, looking down upon the world as Marduk ranted and raved to her. N’Jal would visit her once so often, to remind her that she hated Cassandra for tricking her when the goddess granted N’Jal four of her most powerful cults only to have them cut down by Atari Taka, herald of Enma-O. Lazarus had visited her every now and then, the only God in the Pantheon she could stomach being around. He had always asked Cassandra to play his chess game with him, because Cassandra was one of the only few who knew the rules. She didn’t have much else to do anyway.

This was her life. Boring, repetitive, dull…she hated this torment. She hated this life. She was meant for grander things. Yet every time she tried to make a play for power Selios would go cry to the immortals on the earth and they would be there to stop her. This was soon globally seen within the Pantheon and it was becoming fast a problem. No god could single handedly regain a physical manifestation anymore. Selios would know immediately. Thus the great game of trade was created.

Gods had to follow a very strict set of rules, and the largest rule of all was when a god made a promise, they were forced to fulfill that promise. Cassandra had learned that if a god were to promise something they couldn’t honor that god lost his power to the god they broke their promise to. It never paid to lie to a god. However, you could always trick gods, as she had learned with N’Jal, without any penalties.

Shortly Cassandra began to see the way the Pantheon shifted and moved. She began to learn about the gods, how they rose, how they fell. Soon her brain began to formulate a plan on how to be with her lover again, but she was a missing a crucial component to her plan. In order for her to succeed she needed to get within the deific library and access the restricted section.

Cassandra had been spending her last thousand years trying to get inside. The deific library had a golden rule when it came to entering the restricted section of the den of knowledge: You needed the approval of three other gods before entering. As the restricted knowledge contained all the information about the gods no other god was willing to accept such a motion without a great trade.

Cassandra had tricked N’Jal into giving her access, her second nomination was from Marduk, who gave her access on the condition she did everything within her power to bring him back into the real world. Now she was left with one last god to gather, and none of them were willing to give it up.

Lazarus had come close once. They played a three hundred year long game of his demented adaptation of chess recreating the battle for the Black Archipelago. He talked the entire time about how much he hated Karel Raven and Vladimir Sigma. Other names like Troy and Rebecca popped up, but she didn’t really pay much attention. All she wanted to do was win to get him to agree. Yet one wrong move and she had wasted three thousand years.

Lazarus wasn’t to happy with her temper tantrum after that.

She appealed to Enma-O, who laughed in her face, to Tiamet, who cursed her out, to Mordechi, who asked her to give him more than she was willing too, she even appealed to Lesser gods but none of them had any concept on a fair trade. Frustrated and running low on time she realized she wasn’t going to convince the other gods and moved her perch to the Eye of God. There she lazily sat, a book titled Temen Ni Gru resting next to her stomach as she looked down upon the world.

Silently a creature entered her sanctum, his eyes cast upon her with no ill will nor excitement. Just a passive neutral etched his angelic features as he looked upon her with a soft sigh. Cassandra turned her head a fraction of an inch and looked at the angel that stood before her. He was tall for an angel, as most were deceptively small, and he had a set of brilliant golden wings. He had on a set of white robes, tightly bound around his frame with a small sword tucked away as if it was a shame to even have it. She had never seen his sword drawn, and as far as any god knew, he never once drew the blade. Not like it would do anybody any good. Angels were the lowest base in the order of the pantheon. Only demonic minions ranked lower.

She looked into his eyes, peering past his own personal pains to see a soft contentment in his soul as he peered back to her, seeing her desire to be with the one she longed for. They stood off like this for a long time before she casually sighed and drew her gaze back to the Eye of God.

“What do you want, Angel?” Cassandra said bordly. “Come to give me another pep talk about how I should do this or do that?” he remained quiet as he peered at her, the subtle rise in his chest hiding the fact he sighed before he relaxed himself against a stone pillar that stretched upwards for infinity.

“I am not, Goddess.” he said plainly. The two had never once in their entire lives addressed the other by their names. Cassandra knew the man as Angel, and the man knew her as Goddess. “I just simply came to make the same plea I do each time I visit you.” Cassandra rolled her eyes before turning to face him, leaning seductively on her side as she ran a thin finger down the spine of her book.

“That again, Angel? I told you already that you need to stop this. I will not talk to my daughter. So just give it up, already.” Cassandra said smiling. “I’m sure you have other children to attend to.” The angel stood back up from her perch and turned to walk away.

“I do, being the Patron Angel of Orphans is a never ending task,” he said neutrally. Cassandra lowered herself off her side back onto her stomach looking to him.

“Why do you waste your faith like this. Being you, Angel, I already know you have a very, very limited supply. Why waste it on those street urchins?” Cassandra mused. The angel shook his head.

“Goddess, you will never understand. I would gladly give up all of my faith if it meant that there were no more orphans.” He bowed respectfully to her, a slight head nod in her direction before he turned to leave. Cassandra watched him for a moment than with a cruel smile she shot up calling to him. He stopped but didn’t turn to look at her.

“Angel,” She said forcefully. “How many orphans have I created alone?” Cassandra said grinning from ear to ear. The man turned looking to her, his face calm despite her efforts to get a rise out of him.

“You, or your cult?” Cassandra tapped a finger under her chin.

“Just me.” she smiled. He looked up as if in thought before he looked back.

“Around two hundred or so.” Cassandra pointed to him.

“You must hate me, don’t you, Angel?”

“No,” he said softly to her, his face hiding his emotions well which irritated Cassandra. “If anything Goddess, I only pity you.” he said turning and walking away. Cassandra watched him go, her breaths ragged as she seethed in silent frustration. One day she would torture him and make him scream for her. That was a promise.

“Well what a show.” Marduk hissed from his cage far behind her. “The angel shows up, offers you to make nice, and then in spite of all your attempts you are the one who gets the finger! HA! And to top it all off, three hundred years for a waste of time with Lazarus and you’re no closer to what you want. Better hope you don’t screw me in your journey of failure.”

Cassandra yawned as she rolled onto her back looking up at the crystal ceiling. “You never stated when I had to bring you back.” she chided. She watched the soft shimmering glow of the crystals on the ceiling. “You’re more vocal than usual.” She said casually picking up Temen Ni Gru and flipping to one of her favorite parts in the book.

“Well it’s not everyday I get to see that clown Selios.” Marduk leaned against his cage, making it lean back with a groan of metal. “Be warned, he’s on to you.” Cassandra lowered her book a fraction of an inch.

“Selios is back?” She lowered her eyebrows in curiosity.

“Yeah.” Marduk replied. “You arrived about a half hour after he came through.” Cassandra thought about this development with curiosity. She shut her book and got up walking away with a malicious grin on her face.


~*~*~*~

Cassandra read her book in the library, watching Seth move around from table to table making cruel remarks to some, and a few words of polite chatter with others. While the majority of the Pantheon hated him, there were a few of the weaker gods who gained from his power play. She observed him as he walked up and down the halls, making pacts with other gods to get access to the restricted section. He had apparently forgot that little tidbit of godly information.

Selios’ position chaffed at most of the other gods. Selios was not really all that powerful when compared to the other deities. Currently the three strongest gods were Lazarus, N’Jal, and Cassandra, their faith stores far higher than the other gods. Selios was in all actuality considered weak, no stronger than any other god save Marduk. Yet as weak as he was he was the only god with a physical manifestation within the world. He was also one of the two gods who were lucky to have a herald. Selios had it all as far as the other gods went. Faith he never had to work for, a herald, and the ability to leave the Pantheon whenever he chose.

This was fast becoming his downfall, however, as he grew frustrated when Mordechi laughed at him in the face when he asked his brother for his consent to enter the restricted section. In return Selios sucker punched the traitor god, and turned storming away. Cassandra smiled to herself as she kept watching behind her book. He then went to Lazarus, spoke a few words, and Lazarus began to chuckle, but unlike Mordechi, Lazarus gave out terms to his consent.

Cassandra was impressed with Selios. He agreed to forever stay out of Lazarus’ business, and never leave clues or hints for the other immortals on earth. Selios just had to watch Lazarus, and that was it. Cassandra also knew Selios carefully did not mention his Herald was excluded in this deal.

He then spent an hour trying to get other gods to agree, yet it was Enma-O who approached Selios instead. The God of Death offered Selios access to the restricted section on the terms that Selios made it so that Taka could regain his lost honor on Jared Cesarino. Selios grinned to that, and agreed with a wolfish smile.

This was when the rest of the Pantheon banned together. When a god was just one vote away from entering a place full of knowledge on the gods including their weaknesses and so forth they all made a policy to never deal with that god. Cassandra had known her time to play her part was now.

“Hello.” She said politely to Selios as he walked by her. The deity stopped, looking to her with a snarl of contempt before walking forwards.

“Filth.” He muttered.

“Jackass.” she replied. Selios rolled his eyes. “You won’t be getting the third vote you know. The Pantheon has never allowed a god to enter the restricted section. Me included. When a god has two votes we all ban together to veto the third.” Selios stopped in his tracks, not looking to her but leaning his head ever so softly towards her.

“So how the hell do you jackasses get anything done?” He asked.

“You of all people should know that answer.” Cassandra replied looking to her nails for dirt. As the Pantheon was eternally clean, there was none. Selios shook his head.

“Right,” he muttered angrily. “Nothing ever gets done. This is the exact shit that keeps mankind from believing in you ass hats.” Cassandra could only shrug in response. He was right after all.

“Yet you happen to be in a unique position Selios. A position of power you don’t currently have.” Cassandra stood up and leaned against a book shelf. Selios thought in his head about what she was doing, and then with a groan he turned to look at her with hate filled eyes.

“I assume this means we need to trade for something.” Selios said cautiously, his stance full of aggression. It amused her at how tense the god was just to be around her. It was good to know things didn’t change.

“I would think this trade was a very simple one. We both can spare it.” She smiled her teeth brightly to him. “I just so happen to need a third god’s consent. So why don’t we approve each other?” Selios looked to her with wide eyes before he fluttered his lips making an exasperating sound.

“Pssh, yeah right. If you want in there that can’t be a good thing.” Selios folded his arms across his chest as he looked to her. “Tell me why you are going into the library and maybe I’ll let you in with me.”

“My business is my own.” Cassandra replied. “But how about I tell you what I won’t be doing?”

“Nope.”

“Then you won’t learn what it is you came to learn. I will come back into the world and be reborn and you get the knowledge of knowing you could have prevented it. To let you in is just as dangerous to me as it is to you. I can survive without going into the restricted section. I can learn my information in the real world just as easily. For me this is only a convenience.”

Selios was squirming underneath his tough demeanor. Cassandra held the key to get inside and he knew he was fast running out of time. Not only did he have to get inside that restricted section, but he also had to read over the entire life of Cassandra to find her sights of resurrection. She held him in a powerful position indeed.

“Give me the name of the Saint of Killers and let me into the restricted section, and I will let you into the restricted section as well.” Cassandra thought about his request. Her eyes narrowed in confusion for half a second, then without preamble she rushed over grabbing his hand and shook it vigorously.

“Deal!” She led him over to the restricted section, drawing the eyes of many curious gods as she knocked over Lazarus’ game with Mordechi to get by faster.

“BITCH!” Mordechi shouted. “I was just about to win!”

“Hardly, I had Prince Lucifer inside your courtyard. It was checkmate in two moves. Play again though?” Mordechi grumbled his response as they used their godly powers to let the chess set fix itself into a new game. “Same match?” Lazarus asked. Mordechi nodded. When he saw his army his eyebrows narrowed.

“Hey how come I’m always Emprea and you always get to play Carthage?” Mordechi asked.

Selios ripped his hand away finally as they approached the restricted section, Cassandra’s face was alight with excitement. The guardian of the restricted section looked to them both and when he was able to confirm their acceptance by the other gods he opened the doors. Cassandra was about to move in when Selios grabbed her by the collar. With a violent tug he pulled her back and gave her a know it all look.

“The name?” He asked forcefully.

“Oh, right. The Saint of Killers you said?” She tapped a finger under her chin before she grinned vilely. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.” Selios replied quickly.

“I don’t lie, Selios. Or surely you would feel your power growing. I may have people who do disgusting deeds in my name, but do I give them silly titles? No I do not.” She laughed. “That silly name, Saint of Killers, is some man made piece of garbage, like Saint of Swords or Eternal Wanderer.” she continued to laugh as she turned into the restricted section.

Selios cursed loudly as he followed her in, swearing up and down how he’ll enjoy watching her physical manifestation die all over again.

She left him to his own attentions as she branched off. She had no intention of learning about any of the other gods nor about the immortals in the world. Instead she walked up and down the twisted labyrinth like structure until she found what she was looking for. With a deep breath she blew dust off the top of the book and opened it with a loud creaking sound as she thumbed down the words on the contents. Sighing she tossed the book back on the shelf and grabbed another repeating the process.


~*~*~*~*~

After three days she had found what she was looking for. With a gleeful expression she began to read over a book all about Althanas’ time loops.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana had stayed with Wilfred, so as to be better prepared when Seth was finished with the Pantheon. Each day seemed an aeon to the Herald, who was forced to wait as her husband continued forward. She knew this was never Seth's forte, and even now he must have been at the edge of his patience. Book learning was never something he did freely, and his time in libraries had been solely focused on the darker aspects of Magic. With that came the knowledge of how to stop it, but ultimately it meant he had no clue how to search for anything else.

So, Liliana had helped in her own way. Drumming up followers slowly yet surely, she began to artificially pump the stores of faith by helping people. A small word here, a kind gesture there, it all helped to make things easier on those who had lost their balance in the world. When the world sought to kill and rape you to get ahead, you needed a comforting presence from time to time, to remind you why you were human in the first place. It brought about a degree of serenity that few people could say they enjoyed.

It had been a week since the disaster that saw the walls of the college dorms painted in red. Liliana herself had visited the site briefly, and it reeked of dark faith. Long had gone the scent of blood, and even while the dorm maintenance crew had tried desperately to clean it, the blood would not leave the walls, the floor, or the ceiling. It was to the point they considered just locking the room, and letting no one in it, so stubborn were the stains, and so great the psychological damage.

Currently she was sitting in Wilfred's classroom, while he was having his break period. She was merely making notes of places she could go to create more balance in the world, when she felt the tingling of connecting to Seth. Immediately she suppressed her urge to shove it away and embraced his touch, even if it was separated by a planar barrier that locked away even the mortal god. She shuddered visibly, connecting with Seth, to the point Wilfred looked up from grading papers, only to gawk as she lurched to her feet.

"Liliana, are you alright?" Wilfred asked, concerned as she shuffled to the map on the wall. It was a standard world map, that said little of the actual world, mainly a means of showing the various countries and capitals. Immediately she waved her hand, and a box of pins materialized on a nearby desk, her hand reaching in and grabbing one.

"Not much faith, must work faster...too much information, so little time," Liliana said cryptically. Her face was contorted into a look of fierce concentration, her body shifting into another posture, one that Wilfred couldn't recognize, even as her breathing became haggard and her voice held a dual tonality to it.

"Is it Seth? Is he speaking?"

"No, time for foolish questions, ask later Golem..." The voice held a bit f the hard edge that Seth used when he was impatient. Wilfred knew that this must have been Seth trying to manifest through Liliana, it wasn't working so well, so low was his store of faith. It was working well enough that he had control of his Herald, for a time. The fact it was physically taxing to both herald and god worried the golem, but he watched in resolute silence.

The first pin was stabbed deep in the heart of Revan a gasp leaving Liliana's mouth before she managed, "A servant both loyal and true, the only temptation from the darkness of her heart. The only kill done not to continue her Requiem, but to ensure its survival."

Wilfred moved with a pad and paper and immediately began to take notes, even as she reached into the box and pulled another pin. Her hand shook slightly, before Wilfred heard her whisper, "Focus love, you need to focus on the connection, or we shall not finish..." She shuddered, and began to sway, before her demeanor changed once again, the posture not unlike Seth's.

The second pin was stabbed deep into the slums of Radasanth, "A cradle of evil, both in name and in act. The birthplace of a monster, and a God."

Wilfred shook his head, seeing how straining this was for the Herald, and moved to stop her before her hand roughly shoved his away, "Do not interfere Golem, I cannot keep this up much longer, and there are three to go."

The third Pin stabbed into the eastern fringe of Carthage, somewhere where the ancient country of Emprea had once been, "Sins of the flesh, a warbling note of the Requiem, both impure and ugly. A dark wanderer escapes the bonds of family, and continues her ascent."

The fourth pin moved deep into Berevar, near where the Cathedral of Light once stood. The proximity to the Seraphs old keep was of interesting note, but otherwise Wilfred watched in silence, as Liliana visibly shuddered again, "The gateway to godhood, once thought sealed, torn asunder. Darkness torn from darkness, a mewling baby birthed into godhood."

The final pin was held in her hand, and her body visibly shook with the effort of holding it, before she stabbed it into the city of Knife's Edge. This one seemed almost painful to the herald who hissed out the final words, "The grand halls of the Symphony, a dedication to madness and torture. The final resting place of the great hymn."

She physically sagged against the wall, feeling Seth's touch began to fly away before she nodded receiving his last instructions. She remained there for awhile, before Wilfred slowly moved her to a desk, where she collapsed, tired from the exertion. Finally she managed, "Five sites, eight immortals. This isn't going to work Wilfred, we're two short..."

Wilfred nodded looking at the map before he shook his head slowly, "These places, some are easy to deduce, but others, I would need OMEGA to find their location. I don't think we could get to these places in time. How are we supposed to stop her? Its already been a week since the Saint escaped, and even now we have no clue where he or she even is!"

"Seth told me to call a Progenies, we'll use the Temptress. Get on the phone Wilfred with Vlad tell him to meet us there. He should take care of the rest, meanwhile we have to figure out how to fix this fine mess we've gotten ourselves into. Eight people isn't enough to cover all this," Liliana said tiredly. She rubbed her temples in an effort to make the headache of having Seth in her head go away. This was part of the reason Seth no longer relied too heavily on Faith. Without enough, he would be unable to preform certain acts, without heavily taxing himself. She was more than certain he was resting in the Pantheon now, trying to save his energy for one final dash to the location they would be.

Seth was weak, and the other gods knew it, Cassandra was strong, and the gods knew that too. The fact that Seth was after Cassandra would have been long telegraphed, and without Seth being able to reset the balance in the Pantheon, Cassandra would be able to keep taxing Seth, until he couldn't act anymore. Liliana knew Seth had probably made a few deals as well, limiting his actions against the gods further.

In short, Seth was fast on track to losing godhood if he didn't stop acting for a few moments.

Looking over the locations she shook her head slowly before she pointed at each in turn, "Me and Seth, shall go to Berevar. I think I know where that holy site is. Radasanth could easily be you and Vlad, Wilfred, I'm sorry that I have to put you two together, but I can't leave either of you with Jensen."

"Actually, I'm not that averse to the idea. I think we've all had our fill of Jensen in recent times," Wilfred said firmly. Liliana detected a hint of irritation in the otherwise level voice of the Golem.

"That would mean Jensen and Taka go to the fallen land of Emprea, to see where she killed her own flesh and blood. That leaves Lavinya, which I think Jared and Sarah can easily handle. Seth will get us all into position, then he has to lay low for awhile, the faith I gave him barely covers this last miracle. It would take a serious surge of faith for him to do much more..."

"It's more than we could ever ask of him, he pushes himself too hard at times, but I know he can handle it. Thank you Liliana, I don't think we could have done it without you two," Wilfred said softly.

"I can only hope so Wilfred, if we fail, Cassandra will have made a power play to destroy the Pantheon," Liliana said softly.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The golem watched out the windows to the Temptress towards the street. The first to answer the summons was Taka, who appeared before the doors the moment Wilfred and Liliana got off the bus. He greeted them with a soft bow of respect before entering. The two were down in the den working on logistics of the faith required for the next part of this plan.

Jensen had arrived next, getting kicked out of a convertible car as a woman peeled off angrily. He flipped her off, laughed wildly as he turned to the Temptress and began to rub his hands together. Wilfred met him at the door and personally escorted the immortal downstairs where Sarah and Jared both confronted him about the rules of being in their strip club. There wasn’t very many of them and each one involved Jensen staying put.

He waited as he thought over his notes, thinking of the places Cassandra could be reborn. Lavinya, Radansath, Berevar, Salvar, and a land lost in time called Emprea. Five locations, and eight immortals.
This was a bad omen for the group, because the word immortals was a very grossly overused term.

Vladimir was the victim of a botched ritual. Had he been revived correctly he would share Jared and Jensen’s curse. That wasn’t the case, however, and he was cursed to live forever, but should he lose his head, or his heart stops beating, or whatever other excessive means of killing him happened, the man would remain dead. He had once lost his arm in a battle with Marduk and Lilianna had been kind enough to restore it using Selio’s faith. That had been Vladimir’s wake up call.

Sarah was a vampire. Her longevity was a gift of the vampiric bloodlines, but all vampires had their share of weaknesses. Sunlight her number one adversary. She also was of the Mizami bloodline, a unique type of Vampiric blood that makes her far more vulnerable than she would ever care to admit. This was never more apparent when Vladimir had saved her from a cleansing fire of an uppity lesser god of fire.

Then there was himself. He was just a golem. He didn’t have a life span, nor vampiric powers, nor regenerative abilities. He had a very unique physiology that granted him a measure of protection from ailments in the real world. Most notably, Wilfred had a human body that functioned like any other on the outside, but that was more for looks than anything else. Yet like any other normal human being should he take a mortal blow, he would not come back.

This meant three immortals were in all actuality mortals on borrowed time. So to combat this problem the group made a decision to always send at least two immortals together at any one time. In this way they were best suited for handling any problems that may occur. For the last millennia this worked beautifully. Until today that was.

He sighed audibly, thinking about what a nuisance Cassandra Remi was becoming.

“Even the golem is bothered?” Aislinne said softly stepping up behind him with a open posture as if she was ready to do whatever he asked of her. “So startling to see everyone on edge. I came to see you so I would have someone not so stressed out to talk to, but I can clearly see this is becoming a very, very huge problem to achieve.”

“A god being born is not a time to relax. I assure you these next few hours are about to become some of the hardest in our lives.” Wilfred smiled to her. “So yes, I’m bothered. I had many papers to grade.”

Ailsinne laughed as she looked to Wilfred, smiling brightly. He felt his heart waver and he looked down upon his chest. He lifted one hand to it and felt his heart racing. “A moment of your time, if you may?” Wilfred asked curiously. Ailsinne titled her head as he lifted his hand to hers and brought it up to his chest.

“Do you feel that?” he asked.

“I do.” She replied, a little confusion in her tone as she looked to him. He lifted his other hand.

“Do you mind?” He asked first as he lowered it towards her heart. Aislinne smiled shaking her head. He lowered his hand and gingerly touched his fingers upon her heart. He frowned a bit. “Strange, your heart does not beat as fast as mine.” He removed his hand and let hers go.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her tone full of innocence. Wilfred gave her one of his teacher like looks, making her laugh again. He felt his heart waver again.

“There! I feel my heart racing again. Such a curious sensation. Does this not lead to heart attacks?” Aislinne laughed even more. He pointed to her and smiled. “Every time I see you smile I feel my heart race faster and faster. Each time you laugh it sparks my heart like I was in a blood trance.”

Aislinne looked towards him with as her face flushed red. She let out a small laugh, but her eyes hid a bit of fear in them as he looked to her. Wilfred quickly looked down. “I have upset you, made you uncomfortable. I apologize for that.”

“Why?” Aislinne asked.

“Why?” Wilfred repeated. “Um…I…er….um…that is to say….erm…Well…I…I don’t really know.” he admitted as she moved closer to him and stopped just before him, looking up to him with a kind smile.

“Don’t apologize then.” She said flatly. “You do not need to apologize for saying the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me and meant it.” She lifted one hand up to his cheek and held him there for a moment She lowered her hand running down his chest tapping his heart. She walked towards the den again as he turned softly to watch her go. He was taken aback to see Sarah giving the girl a crude smile, which Aislinne only responded to with a sharp playful slap on Sarah’s shoulder.

“So does this mean I have to get Jared to give you the speech?” the vampiress said with a joviality he didn’t expect from her. He gave her a confused look. “You know, ‘If you ever hurt her I’ll kill you’ speech all parents should give for their daughter’s boyfriend.” Sarah continued as she glided across the room taking a seat in one of the many chairs.

“I have no clue to what you mean. I am not dating her.” Wilfred said walking over and taking a seat. “I was merely expressing the way she makes me feel.”

“You sure have a fancy way to swoon a lady.” Sarah joked. “Could get Jared to take a lesson or two from you.” Wilfred rolled his eyes to her. “Oh come on, I think Aislinne likes you too!” Sarah said pushing the matter. “She’s cute, smart, sexy, what more can anyone ask for?” Wilfred once again gave her a warning look.

“Please drop this silly matter.” he said in his teaching tone.

“Don’t hide behind your teacher bullshit. I know when people are in love.”

“Love?” Wilfred aid flabbergasted. “What in the world do you mean? She barely knows me! I barely know her!”

“She’s always smiling when you’re around, you treat her well and let’s not forget the ‘Every time I see you smile I feel my heart race faster and faster‘,” She mocked him as Wilfred rubbed his nose in irritation. “Or ‘Each time you laugh it sparks my heart like I was in a blood trance.’ Very poetic.”

“You are being overly aggressive in your fun at my expense, please stop.” Wilfred said annoyed.

“I’m just saying, Wil, that I think it’s a good thing for you. So do it.”

“Am I the only one who seems to remember a goddess of blessed torture is on her way back into the real world?” Sarah smiled to him as she stood up.

“We have to be human Wilfred, or we risk becoming the monsters we seek to fight. You of all people should know that.” Sarah said smartly walking back down into her den. “You taught me that after all.”

Wilfred watched as Lady Mizami made her exit. Was he really experiencing love? He wasn’t sure. It’s been so long since he loved anything. The last two people he loved were Sharon and Dark Waltz, his siblings. Was this the same? He would have to ask Aislinne to consent to a date just to make sure if this was truly how he felt. He hoped she wouldn’t mind the experiment.

His eyes caught a glimpse of a black limo through the cracked sun blocker in the front of the Temptress. He could hear the sound of multiple feet moving outside the works as Vladimir and Melinda’s endless bickering reached his sensitive ears. He could make out the distinct sound of Hardun Helmcrafter’s heavy walk and Steena Windsong’s light, almost flawless style of movement which is legendary of elves. Before long the last of the immortals save Seth showed up, the doors opening as armed guards moved around the room quickly. Vladimir grumbled loudly to himself as he stepped forward with Melinda in tow, Steena and Hardun pushing a trolley with a large computer on it.

Wilfred lifted himself up to greet the Last Knight of Apocalypse, but in response all he received was a rude nod as he made his way downstairs. Melinda had stopped to greet him, apologizing for his behavior, but the golem merely pushed it away with his hand as he walked with them down the stairs.

He entered the den and was taken aback at the dramatic change from the last time he was in the room. A large table was set up and multiple computers were set up on smaller tables set up near by. Aislinne was ordering a group of girls around while Jared and Sarah were with Lilianna pointing to the map he had torn off his wall with the pins of the locations of Cassandra’s rebirth. Jensen was sitting in a chair, a bored look on his face. Whatever threats Jared and Sarah made to him were apparently enough to keep him behaving. Wilfred took his seat as Vladimir approached the map and grumbled at how useless it was.

Melinda turned to the trolley and hit a few buttons as the computer rumbled into life. A large projection of a world map took place on an empty wall as the immortals all sat at the table, most of the warriors and girls leaving the room save for Steena, Melinda, Aislinne, and Hardun.

“We got little time.” Vladimir said quickly as he took out a pointer and clicked on the world map enhancing it further inwards. “This is a map of a region near Radanasath. OMEGA was able to pinpoint where her house was to within in a five mile radius. Wilfred, you and I should be able to reach it by helicopter in an hour.”

“No time for that.” Liliana said standing up. “Seth is going to get us all into position, but we just need to make sure we all know where we are going.” Vladimir looked to the immortals.

“Alright then, I have jets and helicopters on stand by for extraction than. They will arrive after we finish up to take everyone to Salavar, Knife’s Edge. If all these locations prove wrong than at least we can all converge to confront her together.” Jared spoke up.

“Not going to work. We can’t give her a chance to come back into the world. A god of her faith store is powerful a foe. We just need to make sure she doesn’t come in.” Jared said.

“Well we got only eight immortals so what the hell do you propose, Jared?” Vladimir asked in a venomous tone.

“Two immortals go solo. Jensen and I. We both are capable of living after death, so it makes the most sense.”

“Uh, can the insane one speak?” Jensen said quickly.

“NO!” The room shouted. Jensen gave a pleading look to Vladimir.

“Of course, give you a chance to abandon us again, Cesarino-San.” Taka said rudely. “I will go alone.”

“If she beats anyone with faith she’ll absorb that into her own. Enma-O’s status is not very high. You’ll be dead Taka.” Jared said coldly, ignoring the insult.

“She’s just going to torture anyone who isn’t a god.” Jensen said in a dead serious tone. “She’ll just capture them, torture them, draw upon them…feed…no. I don’t mean this harmfully, but if we send someone alone, make it someone who at least can die, that way she won’t gain a reap of faith on someone who lives forever to scream for her.”

“Coward!” Vladimir snarled. “You call yourself the Champion of Famine?” Jensen lowered his gaze to Vladimir’s as the two glared daggers into each other’s eyes. Liliana lifted her hand to stop them.

“He’s right.” She said sagely. “Giving her an immortal is giving her unlimited power. She can torture anyone, and that’s how she gains faith. Those two can’t go alone.”

“That still leaves the obvious flaw of her capturing them anyway.” Aislinne said stepping forward. “Just because there are two immortals doesn’t mean she won’t overpower them.” They all thought about that obvious point.

“I’ll go alone.” Wilfred said standing up. “As a golem, she can’t inflict harm on me that will produce her song of faith. If anything, the only regret I have is that so far twelve of my students are failing my class.”

There was a soft chuckle from the group as Vladimir stepped up to him, his face was still covered in a scowl.

“She’s got your family.” he said darkly. “She’ll rip into your mind, pull out those memories of their deaths, and make you witness them over and over, then she’ll break you.” Wilfred crossed his arms across his chest.

“I’d very much like to see her try.” Wilfred said darkly. Vladimir gave him an appraising look of respect.

“I’ll go alone as well, then.” Vladimir said. “She can torture me all she wants. I live a tortured life, and she can’t do anything to me Karel Raven hasn’t already done. It’d be interesting to see what she would do.”

“No.” Sarah said darkly. “This is stupid. We need to stay together. Nobodies going alone. I say we stick to the plan Vladimir set out. No god can stand in the way of all of us together.”

“I must disagree, Mizami-San.” Taka said quickly. “A god with enough faith can easily defeat most of us without even trying.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, idiot.” Jared sneered.

“If you all wish to live a fantasy life, by all means, please test your might against a god. She will kill you and I will be the only one left alive to mourn your death.” Taka said glaring behind his mask at Jared.

“Why don’t I go?” Melinda said at last. The room remained quiet as they all turned to her. “We don’t need to fight her,” she continued gaining confidence. “Just see if the location’s the place she is being born.” She stepped forward into the light of the projector. “If we get signs of her coming, well alert you all to make haste over. I got the entire Knight’s of Apocalypse on my side. We can at least find out if she’s being born or not.”

“Stupid.” Vladimir spat. “Do you have any idea what she can do if she comes back in your area?”

“So send her to the least likely area.” Aislinne stepped up next to her. “That way her odds of finding her are slim.”

The group thought about it. It made sense. Liliana stepped forward. “Are you two sure about this?”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Dahlios, I’m an Inner Circle Knight of the Apocalypse. If I respond ‘no’ to that question I don’t deserve to even breath.”

“She’ll need someone who can determine the difference in Faith in the area.” Sarah said looking to Jared.

“She will, and we got only one person who would understand the spark meters.” Jared said looking to Aislinne.

“Yup, that’s me. So I’ll go with Melinda and the other Knight’s to Knife’s Edge. Being reborn in the biggest military city in the world is the least likely place. It’s just her main church anyway.”

Wilfred looked to them both and felt a spark of panic in his heart. He saw their determination and swallowed his doubt. “I support this action.”

“I support this as well.” Vladimir said.

“I do not.” Sarah said darkly. “They are not experienced enough to handle a god if she should be there!” she protested looking to her lover for support.

“I do.” Jared said softly.

“It’s the only way, I speak for Seth and we both agree on this.” Liliana said sadly.

“I agree to that.” Taka said quietly.

“I don’t. Mortal’s just screw up everything!” Jensen said loudly.

“The votes are in. They go.” Wilfred said ending the matter. “Where do you need to go?” Melinda looked to Vladimir. He nodded tossing her a small cell phone.

“Send them to the military base in Knife’s Edge. They will go from there.” he said to Liliana. She nodded once. In a flash they both were gone.

“Sarah and Jared, you are to both go to Lavinya, are you ready?” They both stood up and nodded. In a flash they were gone.

“Taka and Jensen, you go to the fallen land of Emprea.” They both stood as Jensen gave the samurai a wry grin.

“Keep your phone on Jensen, OMEGA is going to continue to feed you directions to the sight.” Steena said tossing him a phone. He grabbed it and in the blink of an eye they were gone.

Liliana fell to her knees as she cried out in pain. Steena and Hardun were the first to reach her as she shooed them away, tears falling down her face. Vladimir and Wilfred stepped next to her and helped her up gently.

“Seth’s faith is getting weaker?” Vladimir asked.

“Somebody’s…someone is attack our faithful…killing them…we have to hurry.” Liliana said in a forced pain. “You two, get going.” Vladimir nodded as he looked to Wilfred. The golem nodded lifting his hands behind his head and moving a dark hood over his face. He then zipped up his jacket up to his nose and waited.

In a flash they were both gone.

[KOA]

Melinda felt her stomach leap up into her throat, grab it for all it was worth, and start to choke the life out of her as she fell upon her knees with hands pressed outwards on the pavement. Ailsinne was next to her, her eyes shut tight as she like Melinda attempted to pull herself back together. Melinda at last took a shuddering breath of air as she shakily stood up.

“We weren’t expecting you so soon!” a warrior called out running towards them. Aislinne lifted herself up and looked to the walls around her.

They were in a military hanger, with long drapes of honor banners hanging from the ceiling running down along the wall. It was a commotion of noise and tension as knight’s ran all over the place to get into position. Melinda grabbed Aislinne’s hand and walked with her towards a locker room.

“I want a helicopter ready to go in less than five minutes.” Melinda ordered. “I want one Chinook with dedicated Inner Circle magi ready to launch airborne assault. Prepare a Vulture and two Bird of Preys to escort the Vulture. You have your orders, dismissed.” The warrior who ran to them quickly altered his position as he ran shouting into his radio.

When the two girls entered the room Melinda shut the door and locked it. She looked to Ailsinne with a husky smile.

“You dressed terribly for the fun.” Melinda said stripping as she approached two lockers. She ran her finger along each lock and both unlocked. “Good thing I always come prepared. Things are little different than your strip club. Only the best.”

“Finally, someone who knows how to take care of a girl…” Aislinne teased as she took off her heels and began to strip down. Melinda helped her dress into battle armor, tightening the straps along her chest and reaching for her belt. Aislinne took the belt for herself and strapped it loosely along her hip as she looked around for melee weapons.

“Back wall.” Melinda said moving forwards and unlocking the cage of weapons. Aislinne whistled loudly as she reached for two long daggers. When she turned she found Melinda struggling with her zipper on her back. With a deft hand she zipped her up. Melinda smiled to her kindly pulling out two short swords and strapping them onto the holster located on her back. Then her hand grabbed a sniper rifle and a shotgun. She tossed the shotgun to Aislinne who took it in her hand, pumped the loading chamber, and held it in her hands testing it out.

“You ever see the Knight’s mobilize before?” Melinda said off handedly. “If not your in for a treat.” When she opened the door a breeze of wind passed by them blowing their hair back. Melinda reached for her hair, tying it into a ponytail as Aislinne did the same. A large helicopter stood floating a few meters above the ground. There was a small bubble like pod upon the bottom with two high caliber auto cannons upon it. The wings were littered with various types of missiles and the cockpit area looked like it could hold fifteen people with ease.

Behind it were two smaller helicopters, both common military grade with only a single pilot in control. Melinda trotted forward and jumped, her body lifted by two knights. Aislinne did the same and her body lifted effortlessly as a single heavy shouldered knight brought her up reverently with a soft smile. She returned it as she took her seat, the chopper moving forward slowly. A fleet of hummers moved outwards into the mouth of the military wing. They fanned out into the streets making towards the road to Knife’s Edge.

“So many…” Aislinne whispered. She hadn’t realized her communication radio was on. Melinda just laughed as she carefully walked over to Aislinne.

“This is how we do things,” Melinda said with no amount of pride hiding in her voice. “When I say march, we damn well march.” The two escort choppers moved forwards as all three whirling machines shot straight up. A large Chinook moved behind them in tow, their cargo a small army of magi.

Aislinne adjusted herself in her seat as she waited.

~*~*~

“Really Vladimir, puking?” Wilfred said disgusted as he wiped the last bit of Vladimir’s lunch from his robe.

“Shut up,” Vladimir said sickly. “I’m not used to this whole faith garbage. Makes me queasy.” He softly stood up as they looked around the area. “According to OMEGA we are about…oh…doesn’t matter does it?” he thought out loud. “We’re just looking for an abandoned piece of land. Come on.”

The two immortals walked quickly as Vladimir held his Wo Dao close in hand. Wilfred had no such weapons to have at the ready, his magic the only thing he needed. They walked through the wooded terrain they were left at, their ears listening for any sounds of movement or voices.

At last Wilfred had heard something. It was the faint cry of a scream, and he motioned to Vladimir as he pointed forwards towards the west. The knight nodded once as he moved forward, Wilfred covering him as the two moved cautiously forward.

When they hit a small clearing before the edge of the forest Vladimir’s hand reached back and pushed Wilfred down.

The branches in the tree exploded as gunfire pounded forwards over their heads. Vladimir lifted his hands to his hips, pulling out one six shooter gun and checking it for it’s reliability in the coming fight. “I think we found the sight of resurrection.” He lifted up half way and let off a few rounds. Wilfred had to clasp his hands over his ears to avoid the ringing in his ear drums.

“It could be a diversion.” Wilfred said irritably. He felt something tingle in his body and years of being alive and fighting taught him to heed those feelings. With all his might he grabbed Vladimir by the collar and rolled so he covered him. A large fireball exploded on two feet from them as dirt flew up into the air showering them with debris.

“Mage.” Wilfred seethed. He stood up to one knee and looked over the horizon. He felt his body tingle again and he rolled to his right into the fiery crater. His hands lifted up and he spread his fingers out wide.

“Darkness takes you!” Wilfred shouted as black smoke began to escape his fingers creating a fog. Vladimir rose up and ran next to Wilfred’s shadowy form as he looked over the horizon. “It’s a shaman of Marduk…” Wilfred whispered angrily. “Why…Why?” he asked trying to understand what was happening.

“Figure it out later, teacher!” Vladimir said as he moved Wilfred backwards. “We got to lure them into the woods where this trick will net us better results. Can you see them?”

“No,” Wilfred admitted. He took a whiff of the air. “I smell blood.” he added.

“Great, going to trance?” Vladimir asked as he looked over his shoulder and fired off two shots. Their was a few curses as their pursuers fell back a bit.

“No, this is hardly enough blood for me to trance.” The two gave each other one look before nodding. Wilfred lifted his left hand towards a cloud in the sky. “Strike down thy foe with a bolt from your forge!” he curled his fingers upwards to the heavens in defiance as the clouds swirled overhead. A solitary blast of lightening struck the ground further out. He lifted his right hand and did the same motion, another bolt striking an area adjacent to it.

“Tiamet’s fury be upon you!” a strip of flame hurled at Wilfred from his exposed flank. The golem saw the threat and turned one hand to the side. From his palm a strip of ice flew outwards, slamming into the flames and blocking the attack. “Her wrath can’t be ignored simple mage!” A dart of fire came at the black mage, and in response he jumped to the side. His side hit a uprooted tree limb and his breath began to grow course as he lifted up to one knee.

“Why are you helping a Cassandran cult?” Wilfred shouted.

“Tiamet’s ways are strange even to one as enlightened as me. Be grateful though, you shall be cleansed in her fires.” Another large strip of fire flew forwards from his staff towards the golem. Sighing loudly he lifted one hand up and felt the heat slam into his open palm.

“Then you have lost your usefulness to me if you do not know.” Wilfred said sagely. “Now I do not have the time to explain the differences between the two of us. Let it be suffice to say that your level of power is but a mere speck in comparison to a Black Magos Lord!” He curled his fingers around the flame as he rounded on the shaman. With his other hand he lifted up a large pillar of ice that broke the shaman’s concentration ending the spell as he was raised high into the heavens.

With little thought he let out a large ball of fire that hit the base of the pillar, melting it away as it tumbled over. The shaman screamed for help as he landed face first into the top of a try, slid down a few braches before his fall was broken by a large branch that held him. His body slowly turned to the side and he fell off the branch back down upon the forest floor.

Wilfred turned back towards the clearing and saw Vladimir walk forwards with a bloody sword in hand.

“Jesus, overkill much?” Vladimir taunted as he grinned to the Black Mage.

“Perhaps, but as I said I simply do not have the time to give a lesson.”

“Hmm, if that’s what you teach I may sign up for a class…” Wilfred only rolled his eyes. Human’s and their sarcasm was always a bother.

~*~*~

“Status?” Melinda called over her radio.

“We got two unidentified air craft speeding towards us. They don’t seem to be from the Salvarian army either. They are plotted on a course towards us. Contact in two minutes. I got visual on a silhouette. Appears to be two choppers of a civilian make.”

“They have to be hostile. Nobody would be speeding towards this much activity.” Melinda thought aloud. “Okay, Birds of Prey, go out and investigate. The Vulture will cover the Chinook.” A chorus of response filled the radio frequency.

“Let’s just hope they are tourists.” Melinda muttered. Aislinne lifted her gaze to Melinda’s who looked out the large door opening. She pulled up her rifle and stepped to the side hooking herself to a pole and stepping onto one of the legs of the beast. She looked through her rifle’s scope to get a better idea.

“What do you see?” Aislinne asked. Before long she got her answer.

Two explosions loud as a gunshot was heard from the front of the Vulture. Melinda cursed jumping back in and unhooking herself as she moved quickly to the front of the copter. Aislinne unstrapped her harness and moved forward to be clued in on the situation. The front view from the Vulture showed the two Bird of Prey falling to the ground in a smoky ruin.

“Cassandran priests?” Aislinne asked out loud.

“It has to be!” Melinda lifted her hand to the master radio vox unit. “All hands prepare for maneuvers. Strap yourselves in, Knights. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” The Vulture pulled into a high climb along with the Chinook as they watched the civilian helicopters match them. “How the hell did those two take out military grade helicopters?”

“Maybe that’s why!” Aislinne pointed forward as a ball of ice and a ball of flame struck forward towards the Vulture. “We aren’t going to make it!” Aislinne said as she heard the warning sirens for impact begin to blare.

“Black Knight and White Knight, your on!” Melinda ordered. The two knights stood to attention and moved to opposite sides of the copter, their hands moving in complex patterns as they summoned magic to counter the enemies. One long strip of water hit the fire ball, and orb of pure white energy launched forwards and destroyed the sickle of ice.

“Keep it up.” Melinda ordered. “Make a straight line for the Cassandran temple.” Her pilot acknowledged her as Melinda moved back to her soldier’s. “Prepare for parachute jump in five minutes.” Her men snapped a salute and began grabbing their chutes.

“What do you think this means?” Aislinne asked.

“If I’m right, it’s just a diversion.” Melinda sat for a moment thinking. “Something to spook the immortals into coming to this location.”

“Than let’s proceed with that plan.” Aislinne said officially. The Vulture turned sharply and Aislinne grabbed Melinda to prevent herself from falling out. Several unprepared knights fell out, most without parachutes as they fell to their deaths.

“What the hell, pilot?” Melinda shouted.

“Sorry, M’am,” the pilot shouted over the radio. “Evasive maneuvers. They got three mage’s pumping spells.” The Vulture began to dive again as they moved further into the city.

“Contact the Salvarian army, tell them to aim for those two helicopters!” The pilot once again careened to the side, and several more knights fell to their deaths. Melinda felt her stomach churn as Aislinne slipped and fell to the door, lucky it didn’t break from her weight. “BY THE GODS, PILOT, WARN US!” Melinda shouted angrily. “You’re killing our men!”

Ailsinne pulled herself out and crawled towards Melinda who held her, grabbing a hook and strapping it to Aislinne. Melinda then hooked herself as she waited.

“I hope I’m right…” Melinda whispered.

[Lavinian Ambition]

They hit the streets almost immediately. Sarah had taken the jump without losing her stride, looking upon the more mortal of their pair. Her eyes held a hint of anger even as Jared was played out on the ground, a pool of vomit under him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a nonchalant gesture, even as he pulled himself to his feet. A shrug of the shoulders released a bit of the tension of having to throw up, but made the experience no less horrible.

Sarah on the other hand was fine, being undead did have a few perks in that regard.

"That one was worse than last time, a lot worse," Jared said casually, even as he checked his gear. Sarah looked at him, before she checked her gear as well. Fortunately they were in the temptress when Seth's intelligence came in, but the problem remained that she had little time to change or do much. She had her boots on and that was about it, her mini skirt was sitting a good few inches above her knees, but it still was rather tight.

"I never took you as one to hide from danger," Sarah said firmly. Jared knew immediately what she was talking about, even as they began to move through the city that had sprung up around the once dead town.

Lavinya had changed with the rebuilding. There were nods to the old pride, and so the center of the town, was really the ruins of the old town, destroyed when Nathaniel Hawthorne had unleashed a zombie plague into the sewer systems of the once proud city. The Mercenary Traitor, one of Mordechai's original seven traitors, had destroyed his source of money for the cause. In retaliation, Seth had torn every last one of them down, and laid them out by hunting them.

Now, with the ruins intact, it made it easier to search for where Cassandra had killed her erstwhile companion, the broken man known only as Kane. Jared knew enough of the story to guess at what had occurred, probably a dispute or spat after Cassandra's return. The site showed her disciples that no one was sacred, and that every last one of them was expendable, just like Kane. It was a harsh lesson from the god, but one that filtered through all the cults that Jared had infiltrated over the past few years.

However as harsh as that lesson was, how to deal with Sarah in one of her moods, was far worse.

"She's a grown woman Sarah, she can handle herself. I trained her personally-"

"She's mortal too Jared, she isn't going to come back if you fucked up and we sent her to the wrong place," Sarah said, her tone caustic.

"She isn't Kid. Sarah you don't have to mother-"

He was cut off by the backhand that sent him reeling to the ground. He knew he had hit the sore spot head on, and he was lucky she had held back enough not to kill him with that one blow. He could feel a bit of blood pool in his mouth and spat it out, hating the coppery taste of it. He wasn't sure what Sarah saw in the stuff, but then again he wasn't a Vampire.

"How dare you," She hissed, standing over him. He found himself wiping his mouth again in as many minutes, and slowly stood back up, feeling his jaw for a fracture. It wouldn't do not to respond now that he had thrown down the gauntlet.

"I get you're angry at me sending Aislinn away Sarah. She isn't our child, and you didn't adopt her. You think I don't know what you were doing when you chose her to be our liaison? You wanted to put her in as comfortable a position as possible, so you could do everything all over again. Don't think I didn't pick up on it, and Jensen-"

"Leave Jensen out of this-"

"Oh, don't get me started on what I can and cannot talk about. Of all the guys you pick for a tryst, that fuck should have never even made the list. Of all the people, why in the seven layers of hell did you choose Jensen?" Jared said pointing a finger in Sarah's face. They stopped on the street causing a few stares, not that they cared. They were roughly down the street from Old Lavinya anyways.

"Is that what you're mad about? Not the fact I cheated, but I did it with Jensen?" Sarah asked finally. People immediately moved on, almost sensing the danger coming from the loaded question. Jared raised an eyebrow at the audacity she had in asking it. Did she really want an answer to it?

"Yes," Jared replied firmly. He then turned sliding on a heel and toe and moved quickly towards the ruined districts of the city. He could hear the click of her boots behind him, every step of the way.

"Jared, stop, right now!"

"That sounds like an order, and you know how well I do with that princess," Jared retorted. Princess was Jared's way of implying Sarah was a brat at times. While she was justifiably not, her time in being the leader of the remaining Mizami vampires had cultured in her the vampiric arrogance that almost eclipsed her Lavinian Pride. Jared, called Sarah princess to warn her when she was close to losing him. The fact that he did so now, in the middle of their fight meant so much to the once living Lavinian.

Her boots stopped, the silence more than telling to Jared...

...he stopped too, tilting his head so his ear was facing her, waiting for her next words.

"This isn't about us; this is about Aislinn, Jared. Why do you trust her so much? Why did you let her go? We need her; she's too valuable to risk on this!" Sarah finally said.

Jared looked down before he said loudly, "This was her decision. Isn't that why we keep fighting? Or did I get the message wrong and really we just like pissing off gods for fun?"

Sarah froze, the look on her face one that almost retorted with the motherly answer. She wanted so badly to protect Aislinn from Cassandra, but the fact of the matter was, Aislinn had decided. When she joined Sarah as her Lieutenant she had accepted the fact that Death would come for her, long before she would die of natural causes. Enma-O was possibly even now weighing her actions, to see if she would benefit from a blessed afterlife of peace, or be sent to rot in Sintyre. The reality of her decision, and the fact she had to have known the risks were laid before her. Sarah couldn't just squash the girls right to choose, Jared was right on that aspect of their argument.

They walked in silence for a few more steps, seeing road blocks blocking all access to the Lavinian ruins by car. This much was expected, as there was some sanctity to the place. Technically Jared and Sarah owned Old Lavinya, and they had forced a law to be made in the city forbidding all advanced technology from being moved past the borders of the old city. Only Jared was allowed an exception, and that was because he was named its chief guardian.

It didn't help that for one month each year he moved through the city, making sure it was kept clean enough. The city had protested a few times to the methods he enacted in keeping the restriction in place.

What was not expected, was the gaggle of men standing at the edge, some wielding guns, other's just standing about. They seemed a rather motley crew of workers, shooing away anyone who would get to close. Jared was unafraid of them as he walked up, a look of keen interest on his face.

"Sorry, Old City is off limits tonight folks; you can come back tomorrow morning. City business going on today," The man said, seeming to measure up Jared as he moved casually within the man's personal space.

"That so? And who would you be? I'd like to see some form of business card. You certainly don't look like a government peon," He said, a dangerous smile lighting up his face.

The man was not expecting that as he looked to his companions. He then looked back at Jared before he twitched his hand slightly, nervously. Jared saw the signs and was already drawing one gun, while his hand went to the man's hand, jerking it at the wrist so the gun that was being drawn was sent to point at the ground. The sounds of gunshots filtered through the night even as Jared brushed up against the would-be assaulter, and raised his now armed hand and fired into the next guy, almost at point blank range. The pain of having a rubber bullet shoved into his chest at critical velocity knocked the man off his feet, and his mind had shut down his body, trying to recover from the trauma it had just endured.

Sarah had moved just as swiftly, using her bond with the shadows to disappear from a hail of gunfire, only to show up behind one of the men with a gun. A hand roughly grabbed the man’s head before she jerked it back, causing the man's hand to move up. Her hand grabbed the man's own, before she pointed it at his friends and opened fire, killing them. One of the men stabbed at her with a knife, only to find the reluctant puppet placed between her and the blade. Her assailant let out a cry of shock, even before she grabbed the knife out of the victim's body and sliced through his throat.

All this had occurred in less than half a minute.

Jared moved swiftly into position behind the man, locking the gun armed hand behind his back and shoved him into the concrete barricade. The man grunted in discomfort before he said firmly, "You're pathetic, can't even kill..."

"Who's more pathetic, the one who won't kill, or the idiot who can't kill a washed up Traitor?" Jared hissed in the man's ear. The man shook his head trying to break Jared's hold on him, only to be shoved again against the wall. "Start talking, it'll increase your chances for survival, though I'm sure the cops will want to talk to you anyways. I have them on speed dial..." His armed hand holstered his pistol before a cell phone appeared in his hand. The screen was flipped open and Jared skillfully brought up the number, holding the phone before the madman clearly, even as he shoved the man's cheek flush against the wall.

"I got nothing to say to you. If I die the plan goes through anyways. When the Blessed Lady returns, I'll be rewarded in the afterlife for being a devout. I'll be praised, and you wont be worth the excrement on the bottom of my shoe," The man said firmly, a deranged smile on his face.

"Funny, Cassandra doesn't have an afterlife, her devout are sent to Sintyre," Jared said, his thumb hovering over the send button, even as the light of his cell phone faded bringing darkness to the cultist's face.

A sadistic grin opened as he said, "We call it the Hunting Ground. What better way to reap faith than to make the demons themselves cry out for mercy?"

Sarah let out a gasp of shock before she looked worriedly at Jared. The Lavinian dropped the cell phone, before he grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him again into the wall, "I don't have time for your garbage. Where is the resurrection site?"

"Why don't you ask Selios? He certainly knows a thing or two about what’s going on," The man replied, his grin turning to one of pleasure at the pain Jared was inflicting on the man. He was entering euphoria, and Jared was disgusted. Throwing the man down on the ground he sent a kick into the man's stomach in rage, causing the man to gasp for air. He finally choked out, "And hunters we shall be, for thee my lady..."

Jared had no time to raise his gun to fire, before the man shot.

The cultist lay slumped on the ground, a new hole in his body at the temple. The other half of his head had been blown out from the concussive force of the pistol firing into it at point blank range. The Lavinian stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke, "...for thee. Power hath descended forth from thy hand, that we may carry out thy commands. So, shall we flow forth a river unto thee, teeming with souls shall it ever be. In the name of Kane, and Jeb, and the Darkness within."

Sarah looked at Jared waiting for some sign he was alright. The Lavinian looked down upon the dead body of the cultist. She moved slowly each step a scuffle across the concrete. A hand was placed gently on his shoulder before she ventured a question, "What happened?"

"He preformed his own last rites. He was a priest," Jared replied, "Wouldn't be surprised if he did the three cuts. When they kill they do one across the wrist, one across the neck, and a narrow one over the heart. To remind them of the cuts they shouldn't perform during their performance of the Requiem. Those cuts are saved for when the song hits its last note."

He looked over his shoulder into her eyes before he shook his head, "Let's go, we have a lot of ground to cover. The story tells that he was leaving the guild hall with Cassandra when she turned on him. They had just killed Serenity Dahlios, in reprisal for Cassandra's own. We both know how easy it is to find that place, it shouldn't be hard to figure out from there. Especially since so many of the houses burned down during the Fall."

"Jared, look at me," Sarah said softly.

"I can't," He replied.

"Jared, please, look at me," She said once more. When he looked into her eyes she saw it, what he was trying to hide. The brief glimpse he had given her had hidden it, but the truth was she knew when he was different, and looking away, no matter how nonchalantly it occurred was a warning sign to her.

The other eye was losing life fast.

[Dissinger]

"Welcome back."

Seth smirked as he saw Liliana appear before him. Her eyes scanning the area, taking in details like any warrior would. It was amazing the contradictions that ran through their little group, Liliana one of the lesser offenders, but one none the less. Being the more compassionate one, she was also one of the more ruthless, when she chose to be. She had after all been the one to convince Seth to kill his parents, and resurrected Jared only for the information on where their daughter Samantha had hidden herself away.

That was a long time ago.

However, old habits died hard, and Seth was first and foremost a schemer. As a thief he had been trained to think around corners, and figure out the advantages his enemies had. Over time, he learned to strip those advantages, and did so with relish. So, when he had researched the sites, he almost knew exclusively where Cassandra would have held the ceremony.

Then Liliana had told him to send Aislinn and Melinda right into the lair of the beast.

Part of him considered letting her in on the big secret, and part of him knew he couldn't do much to avoid it. In the end, he went with his gut, and decided to do as he was asked. In the end, he at least hoped, it would solidify the group into action. After all their bickering, they had reached a new level of childish, especially between Taka and Jared. It had been easy for him to promise Enma-o he would help Taka resolve the stain on his honor. Especially since Jared was asking for it.

However, Liliana still didn't know, and now, deep down inside, he was afraid to tell her. It was petty, not wanting to tell his wife that he had essentially sold out two friends, especially for his own petty schemes, and the more he thought about it, the guiltier he felt. Perhaps he shouldn't have sent them, or better yet, put them somewhere safe. It was too late to change his mind, he didn't have the faith to make it right anymore. So with a mental shrug he watched as she let out a soft sigh and looked at him.

"So far so good, lets move-"

"Look, uh..." Seth scratched behind his head, giving her a look that screamed guilt. Her eyes bore into his and before he could continue, she had already figured him out.

"You wouldn't..." She said softly, looking into his gray eyes. It didn't take long for her to see the truth. Her hand crossed his face in the span of a second before she spoke her voice tired, "You did, and you didn't warn them."

"It wouldn't have mattered, the only difference it would have made is who she had to reap faith from when she finally made it through. We couldn't know how far along they were, and she had a full three days head start on me from the Pantheon, there was no telling how much time had passed here," Seth replied calmly. He didn't get angry, not anymore, he just accepted that people thought he was a bastard, and moved on.

It still stung when that person was his wife.

He then rubbed his jaw slightly before he spoke, "The largest concentration of Cassandran priests is here, we just wipe it out, and it'll put a dent in her faith-"

"I can't believe you some days Seth, you got two people killed, and you just go on like nothing happened. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys here, what the hell happened to that?" Liliana screeched, hitting him in the shoulder. That one actually hurt, and he rubbed his shoulder looking at her plainly. Her anger wasn't wholly unexpected.

"Balance," Seth replied curtly. The look Liliana gave him told him enough, it was time to shut up. They'd finish here and go to the Cathedral that much was certain. Damage control she would call it, the need to know he would. He would of course disappear and let her do as she wished, it was about time to check on the farm anyways. From that point forward, Seth wouldn't be able to see the future, his vision would be mired by his involvement in the situation. From here on out, the god was blind.

It was exciting not knowing what came next.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred launched yet another fire ball over Vladimir’s shoulder, the Last Knight of Apocalypse using his weapon to hold off three men from rushing them. He had two daggers impaled upon his arms but the warrior paid them no heed as he roared out in defiance of their tenacity.

He already made a dark conclusion that Vladimir had happened to agree upon. This wasn’t the site of Cassandra’s wakening. He had already called the copter to take them to the air strip where they would jet off to Knife’s Edge. Though the knight didn’t show it, he was concerned for Melinda and Aislinne and the other immortals. None had gotten back to him via the cell phones nor the radios. The black out was making both their nerves light up on edge, so to pass the time they decided to attack the serial killers and marducian priests.

“Left Flank,” Vladimir grunted. Wilfred turned to see two shamans preparing a spell. Before they had the chance three strips of ice formed out from behind Wilfred, chasing them down as they broke off and fled into the woods.

“Mind the right,” Wilfred whispered as the Knight turned and used all his weight to thrust the weapon deep into a Cassandran follower’s gut. He disemboweled the intruder, kicking him off his blade. The two turned back to back as Wilfred lifted his hands, one burning with fire, the other shrouded in a baleful wind.

“I…” Vladimir started. There was an awkward pause in the knight’s words, and Wilfred nudged him with his elbow to get him to open up. “I don’t like this silence…” he said at last. “Something is wrong. My gut is telling me something is wrong.” Wilfred remained quiet.

“So is mine.” Wilfred said at last as the two sprung forward, lashing out and attacking the last resistance offered to them.

Wilfred’s hands clasped together and a strip of flame washed over the area in his front arc, moving his hands quickly left and right to cover the whole area. Some of the serial killers got mixed up in the flames, burning away with howls to Cassandra. Wilfred winced and made a mental note to finish them off as quickly as possible. Even when dying their screams to her would increase her faith.

He curled his fingers back ending the flame strip as he shook his hands free of the mana, conjuring up the wind into a small tornado in front of him. With a push his magic went forwards but was quickly dissipated. Wilfred’s eyes rose a fraction of an inch as he turned to see Vladimir hunched over, his body wreathing in some unknown agony as shadows kept drawing closer and closer to him. He had observed this tactic but once, but knew what it was when he tired to conjure a simple flame spell.

The Knight was a master at Shadow magic, a unique branch of black and white magic. Not only could he beck the shadows to him, but also use the magic to literally shut out other’s magic. Over his travels he had learned to absorb all the magic in an area. Powerful indeed, for Tiamet’s shaman’s couldn’t exactly cast any spells either. Yet it did have a drawback.

“Oh dear,” Wilfred sighed as he lifted a hand to grab at a Cassandran Priest’s wrist. He pushed back with all his might to stop the knife from coming, silently damning Vladimir for shutting his magic down. Had he not sealed away his powers long ago, he would be able to overcome this trick, but alas, the oath of the immortal still clung to front of his mind.

“For her, to I give thee, a golem,” The priest said in a trance. Wilfred sighed. “I shall cut his flesh for you, make him scream to you, a praise and litany! Your song shall come from his lips!”

“Really?” Wilfred said, unable to voice his words like a normal person, but rather in that teaching tone. “Cut my flesh? But a golem’s flesh is nothing more than an illusion. We do not feel the pain of a simple cut, as our nerves are very, very dulled. However, should you stab me-”
Wilfred felt his arm go on fire as he looked to see the priest’s knife deep within his flesh. He pulled back, his teeth clenching as the serrated blade pulled at his skin, blood pouring out as the priest freed his weapon from the prison.

With a sickening look he licked the blood of the golem, and spat it back out. “Disgusting,” he breathed. “it tastes like oil…” he mocked. Wilfred held his arm as it sagged to the side, his eyes looking forwards towards the two shaman’s approaching behind the priest. He glanced back to see Vladimir tied up with multiple chains from the priests, a long metal net bringing brought forth.

“You know, Mr. Sigma, if you hadn’t shut out my magic, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Wilfred said irritably.

“Hey, Professor Waltz, tell me something I don’t know!”

“One plus one equals one!” Wilfred spat. “A concept you should have learned in grade school you…you…” Wilfred lowered his gaze. “Meanie.” he whispered.

The shamans and the priest looked to Wilfred with confusion. At last the Shaman on the right looked to his companion and spoke. “Did he just call him a meanie?” the other shaman nodded.

“If you had any idea of how I hate to degrade myself to his level, you would understand that clearly.” Wilfred said lightly. Wind began to push from the south and the sound of a chopper breaking forward turned everyone’s attention. “Ah, the proverbial Calvary has arrived.” Wilfred smiled.

“Kill them!” The priest shouted in a frenzy. Before he could take his third step a bullet found purchase in his shoulder. The two shaman’s were gunned down as the helicopter did a passing run over the clearing. Wilfred ran towards Vladimir, using his body to slam into the net holding Shaman. There bodies fell upon the ground and Wilfred struggled with his one good arm turning to see Vladimir unload all chambers in his pistols at the one foe before him left standing, his blade a bloody mess as his chest was.

The chopper pulled slower over the clearing, a medium sized military personnel carrier. Four warriors repelled down the grappling hooks as they immediately went to work scouting the surrounding area. Wilfred felt something getting tied around his waist as Vladimir stepped forwards. Before the golem could say a word he felt his injured arm being patted as Vladimir clipped a metal carabineer to the newly acquired belt.

Both men were violently lifted into the air as the chopper began to climb into the sky heading to the east. He felt his body being tugged upon as several warriors pulled Wilfred up. When he touched the bottom of the helicopter floor he debated upon whether he should kiss it or not. Vladimir pulled himself into the metal beast grabbing a head set and shouting orders rather angrily as he pulled the weapons that impaled his arms out. A medic ran forward and began to tend to Wilfred’s arm.

“I hope your good at your craft.” Wilfred said in a barely controlled breath. He wasn’t used to bleeding like the other immortals. For a while he had thought he couldn’t. The medic cracked a grin at the Black Mage.

“They don’t call me Stitches without good reason you know.” he said smiling.


~*~*~

Melinda was positive at this point something was wrong. Her men were not her own, somebody infiltrated her order, and the men on the Vulture were not Knight’s of the Apocalypse. She had kept silent on the matter, but she knew the second the pilot began to twist the bird to drop soldiers out that something was amiss.

She thought about what she would do, and came to a final conclusion. Standing up she turned to her warriors.

“Begin Protocol Sigma Seven.” She ordered. Guns began to load up as the Knight’s all nodded. Melinda turned her head and sat back down quickly next to Aislinne. Before Aislinne could speak Melinda changed her channel on Aislinne’s radio and then did the same for herself.

“What’s wrong?” Aislinne asked, her body language neutral as she looked out to the see the city sky. Melinda was silently thankful Jared and Sarah both trained her well.

“Not a single person on this bird can be trusted. They are not Knight’s of Apocalypse. Protocol Sigma Seven means to take your pistol, hold it against your head, and scream Lord Sigma very loudly. It’s the Knight’s code for,” Aislinne cut her off.

“Traitors in our midst…” she breathed. “At the Temptress we say that Jared’s sick.” she said off handedly smiling to her. Melinda smiled back. Now was more crucial than ever to act naturally. Melinda looked up to see the co pilot turn and slam the cockpit door shut.

“They know I found out.” Melinda said with a sharp breath. Aislinne’s face faltered for a moment as she looked to the floor. “We get one chance at survival. Where is your shotgun?” Before Melinda could voice further she noticed Aislinne’s fingers tapping the weapon by her ankle. Aislinne gave her a wink as they both softly moved their hands to switch back to general communication.

“You know…I could have loved you.” Melinda said honestly.

“My heart is currently for someone else.” Aislinne admitted.

“The golem?” Melinda said lifting her pistol out and loading the chamber. Aislinne’s hand danced over to Melinda’s waist, where she pulled the chamber for Melinda. Melinda smiled to her as she grazed Aislinne’s thigh with her knee.

“Yeah, he’s kind of…well…” Aislinne pulled back turning in her seat revealing her pistol she hid in the back of her belt. Melinda ran one hand down her back towards the gun. “He’s the sweetest guy I ever met. He’s always saying the nicest things, tasking care of me, teaching me…he’s perfect.”

“Meh, golems don’t really get my blood going.” Melinda shrugged indifferently. “I mean, Wilfred’s the greatest guy in the world, but I find him to simple at times. TO stop and teach him something as simple as how to use a phone really turns me off.”

“I find it endearing,” Aislinne said. “He can teach me things, and I can teach him things.” Melinda laughed softly.

“Five different locations,” Melinda said. “Four that aren’t obvious,” Aislinne lowered her hand to her shotgun. “Three woman Jensen’s screwed with,”

“Two woman who will get retribution.” Aislinne said.

“And one Bird full of bullets!” Melinda shouted as both girls turned and began unloading on the traitors in the Vulture. Muzzle flashes nearly blinded Melinda as Aislinne’s hands worked in a fury of motion pumping the gun and firing. They shot every last bullet in their chambers, Melinda’s hands dropping her pistol as she pulled out the pistol from Aislinne’s back. The assembled traitors couldn’t move anywhere to avoid the slaughter, hooked into the back of the plane when the traitor pilot used evasive maneuvers to kill off the loyal Knights.

Without having to remain in hiding any longer the Vulture turned on its access and looked to the Chinook full of Magi and fired off two missiles. Unceremoniously the Chinook blew apart in a red and orange explosion, metal flying outwards in every direction as it rained down towards the streets below. With a groan the Vulture turned again on it’s access, the twin auto cannons opening up as it fired down upon the ground below. Missiles launched forward again as the Vulture nose dived towards the street level. Melinda couldn’t tell what was going on, but she could hear the confusion in her radio head set as her humvee task force was being ripped apart piecemeal.

“All Knight’s!” Melinda shouted. “We have traitors in the Vulture, count off and then begin to fire upon the Vulture.” She could hear a bit of chatter as gun shots echoed in her ears, causing Aislinne to be concerned.

“Mam, this isn’t safe anymore, The surface to air humvess are traitors! They opened fire on the street, killing loyalists left and right!” There was a loud pop sound and then static. Melinda moved towards the pilot’s door, but found it locked. She fired at the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“We are so screwed.” Melinda breathed. Everything was turning into a disaster. Her Knight’s were being killed, she was stuck in a hopeless situation. Cassandra was being born, born in the most stupid of locations for a reason. She wouldn’t go into hiding in the shadows when she’s been playing in the daylight the entire time.

She looked to Aislinne, who’s face was covered in concern. Then without preamble she grabbed her phone. “Dammit, it’s jammed!” She tossed it aside in frustration as she fought with her neck. She ripped the necklace out with a small ring attached to it. “This is all we have left. Jared, I hope you know what you were talking about. You promised if whoever had this ring was in trouble you’d know right away. Well, this is as much trouble as I could get into.” Melinda felt the Vulture begin to descend.

They watched as clouds moved over the moon, hiding itself from them as it continued to slam downwards. She lost sight of the moon and looked to see the rows of buildings and turrets. They flew dangerously close to ground level, hovering over cars as they terrorized the civilians upon the ground. Soon they turned a corner and began to hover for a bit before landing down upon the ground.

Aislinne and Melinda held their weapons ready. The sound of metal hitting metal clinked around the back of the room before a small canister landed at their feet. With a loud crash and white flash they both were disoriented shouting and screaming. Before they could tell what was happening they felt punches and bruises upon their bodies as they were wrestled to the ground. Before long they were handcuffed by the two pilots.

Softly the world began to climb back into focus, their eyes looking ahead to see a flock of Cassandran priests rush forward with weapons in hand. Ailsinne shook her head left and right as she groggily looked forward.

Making their way through the crowd was a small spunky shouter, getting angry at the wall of bodies they had to cross. A priest shouted to make room for the Saint of Killers, and before long the congregation all stood off to the side.

Melinda and Aislinne looked upon the Saint of Killers, and with all the regret she could muster Aislinne whispered the name in a defeated tone.

“Aerith…” she said hopelessly. Aerith bowed low to them, her red hair falling over her like a curtain as she softly rose, a look of pure joy on her face as she motioned to the pilots behind the two hostages. Then the world went black.

[Lavinian Ambition]

"Jared..."

Sarah was trying to talk to him, get him to calm down. The guns fired again and again, dropping a cultist with every staccato note in a symphony of hatred and rage. The quick beat was followed by a boot connecting with the ribcage of another cultist, and a resounding crack filtering through the alleyway. It told of desperation, and frustration, of a man ready to do anything to end the fight.

"We'll talk later. Just add it to our list of problems and deal with it later. We don't have time for this..." Jared replied tersely.

"Jared, we have to make time, if you've been relying on it that means you’re close to regressing! I don't-"

"I know, you don't think that I do? This whole situation is screwed up; add in the fact that I've been playing serial killer for a year? I know that I fucked up, and there isn't much I can do to fix the gods be damned problem. You think I like been considered a ticking time bomb by my wife, hell [i]ex[i]-wife for that fact? We’ll talk about this later, after we’ve finished with this whole resurrecting god bullshit!"

"Jared calm down, when you get angry you start letting the Catalyst talk for you, and that's never a good thing!"

A few cultists littered the ground at his feet, groaning in pain, a few of the lucky ones were unconscious. The fight had luckily been bloodless, but fruitless none the less. They had failed in finding the resurrection site, and unbeknown to his significant other, the ring he had given Aislinn, was sending off claxons in his head telling him she was in trouble. He had told her to keep it safe, and he was more than certain his young protégé had.

Aislinn wasn't a warrior. Whatever trouble she had gotten into had to be bad news, as anything that required thought would quickly have been put in place. She could think on her feet faster than Jared, and adapt to a changing situation well enough, this much he had counted on. It was why Jared was pushing for her to become a team lead for researching sites of faith.

Aislinn for all her virtues couldn't fight and Sarah's admonishment over the girl's experience rang through his head.

A quick call to the police had them rushing through the streets via patrol car. This was one of the few times Jared would allow future technology into his dead city, and he hated that he had to do so. The cars came to a halt in the nearby main thoroughfare of the city, the alleys far too narrow to allow for a vehicle to get in. Soon city officials were moving through the area collecting the bodies of the cult of the Blessed Torturer. Sarah lay a hand on his shoulder before she spoke softly, "What's wrong Jared?"

"Aislinn, she's in over her head, we have to get to Salvar quickly..." Jared replied. A look of rage darkened Sarah's face, even as she stepped forward. Jared placed a solitary finger to her lips, silencing her before he spoke, his voice drained, tired, "Now is not the time for 'I told you so', save it for later."

Sarah stood there for what seemed like ages. A slight wind blowing through the area, reminding Jared how dead she was when he shivered and she didn't even register a single goose bump over the chilly breeze. Looks of pain and anger crossed her face several times and Jared wasn't sure what was going on in her head. Then, for the first time since Sarah had seen Jared come back, she gripped him a tight hug and whispered, "I pray she's safe..."

"For her sake, I wouldn't suggest praying..."

“We got a duster!” One cop shouted, as a man in a frothing rage slammed him back into the wall. Jared drew a pistol and fired, sending a rubber bullet into the cultist who sun, doing a neat pirouette before steadying himself and moving towards the Lavinian, a cry of battle upon his lips. More shots fired only resulted in an empty clip and one enraged berserker.

“Awww shit, he’s a Marducist Pain Taster….” Jared replied. Sarah looked worriedly to Jared as he disengaged himself from his wife, to intercept the charging man. The sound of flesh upon flesh could be heard, even as the man brought the Lavinian down on the ground, proceeding to pummel the man’s head and shoulders in a rain of punches that spoke volumes of his discipline, or lack thereof.

Sarah moved to enter the fray, only to be pulled forcefully back by one of the cops. Shouts of warning could be heard, even as Jared shrugged off the initial surprise of the Pain Taster ignoring his bullets and flung his guns aside, instead relying on his fists and his wits. Blows were traded, with Jared’s making the man laugh and begin reciting the litanies of battle, from Marduk’s great scriptures.

Then the sound of metal upon metal could be heard, as a knife was pulled. Guns were pointing at the two fighting, and Sarah was half tempted to tell them to fire, only to realize that Jared out of commission for so long would be a detriment to the mission. Jared was stabbing the man repeatedly with what looked like an old Dagger, one that had runes carved in it. Sarah’s eyes went wide upon seeing them, and even more so when Jared sunk one deeply into the man’s flesh, whispering softly in his ear.

The man sank to the ground dead, even as Jared stared at his hand, looking at the blood upon it with a morbid curiosity. Finally he looked at Sarah and spoke, his voice tired, “Call KOA enterprises and get us to that fucking Cathedral…”

Sarah didn’t have the heart to question that order.

[Requiem of Insanity]

“Hey!” A voice called into the void. It echoed over a great distance as Melinda’s eyes fluttered open looking upwards. “She’s awake! Just in time! She’ll be the one we sacrifice! Save the other for my blessed mother!”

Melinda looked around groggily as she took in the scene around her. She was deep within the Cathedral of the Blessed Torturer, that she could tell instantly. No windows to the outside world seemed to litter the walls save one small port hole in the ceiling that looked towards the heavens. She noticed that the walls were steeped and designed to create a chasm like effect, allowing one’s voice to echo down the halls towards the congregation outside. That or enhance something else inside the room.

Many statues were littered over the edges of the ceiling and the wall that vaulted up to add to the effect of the elaborate stonework. Some were of men screaming in agony, others were of woman tied up crying. Each told the same story; They were victims who died for Cassandra screaming her twisted song.

Footsteps echoed along the marble floor and Melinda shifted to feel her arms bound by chains. They were ancient in age, but power as well. She could feel the magic seeping from them across her skin. Aerith jumped in front of her, her feet along either side of Melinda as her hands reached for her collar forcing her to look the Saint of Killers in the eyes.

“Did you know that today you will die?” Aerith asked in a sweet voice, her tone like honey.

“Piss off.” Melinda mumbled. She narrowed her eyes in thought as she tried to move. Her body was lucid in response, a tingling sensation running down her nerves like a body part that fell asleep. She looked back to Aerith.

“Tee hee!” She giggled as her hand seductively ran down Melinda’s cheek. She tapped her lips twice before sucking on the finger. “Umbra!” She said politely. “It deadens the nerves, but still allows your body to receive pain signals. Not the way mom liked it, but hey, who’s complaining? The effects should be wearing off soon. Just in time for the concert! Come on! Come on!” Aerith urged her as she pulled Melinda up to her feet. “You get front row!”

Melinda felt her feet stubbornly move forward as she used every impulse to stop herself, but no amount of training could prevent her from getting shoved upon a stone table. She felt her arms lifted up and tied down with the same magical chains as well her feet. When she looked up she saw a Cassandran Priest muttering words of praise as he dropped tiny bits of blood onto Melinda’s face.

“Hurry up and be gone! I want time with my new playmate!” The priest bowed low and vanished into the shadows. Aerith jumped up upon the table, crawling over Melinda’s body like a tortured lover. Her hands reached down Melinda’s side and she gently pulled out a combat knife. With a flick of her wrist she snapped the belts off her stomach. Then with soft, gentle cuts she began to strip Melinda’s armor off.

“What are you doing?” Melinda asked.

“Stripping you.”

“I’d prefer to keep my clothes on.”

“I’d prefer they were off.” Aerith struggled a bit at the waist, but with a frustrated sigh she ripped the waist and Melinda’s clothes fell off to the side just like that. With a lustful sigh of pleasure her fingers went to the top of Melinda’s bra straps. “You got a very nice body…” she mentioned off handedly as she pulled tightly on the arm straps. They snapped pinching Melinda softly as she tossed the garment off to the side before crawling backwards all the way to Melinda’s knees.

“So is this part of Cassandra’s fun? Getting herself off to the victim?” Melinda spat. “Is that why she was a killer? Because she never got laid!” Aerith shrugged.

“It’s possible, but I do this part on my own. Cassandra did it while the prey was unconscious. Not much fun in the way I see it. To each their own.” Her hands reached underneath the underwear and they felt like ice making Melinda retract. Aerith giggled again as she took the knife and carefully cut the soft fabric before tossing it to the side. “Try not to choke on the biggest day of my life. The day I get to be with my mother!” Melinda gave her a rude look as she turned her head to the side. She found Aislinne sitting tied up in a chair, gagged and looking right at Melinda.

She mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry‘, which Aislinne returned with a shake of her head. How nice. She doesn't blame me, Melinda thought sadly. She smiled as the lights faded down until only the central light upon the stone slab was visible.

Is this my life? Chained naked to a stone torture rack used a pawn for a god’s pleasure? That’s what my life amounts to? Guess it wasn’t so bad, was it Mel? I hunted gods, got to meet Vladimir Sigma, slept with an immortal, and had the time of my life. No, this isn’t really all that bad. How many get to be as blessed as me? I had a lot of friends…

A howling baleful energy began to swirl behind Melinda, and she shrugged at the energies indifferently. The darkness could wait, she wanted a moment alone.

I wonder if he knows I liked him? Vladimir wasn’t really to bright. I didn’t think he was so bad. Just had a hard life…that was all…Sorry Seed, I know you won’t agree. Yet even you would understand the necessity to kill a god like Lazarus and Cassandra Remi, right? To stop these things like what’s happening to me from happening? I’m sure Seed was reasonable. Wilfred assured me he was. Wilfred doesn’t lie.

A sinister laughter filtered into Melinda’s mind, and she shuddered at the cold breath from an agent of the abyss. Yet she pushed the feeling away, using her force of will to shove the beast out of her thoughts.

I wonder if the people of Irennes would have liked me? Vladimir told me so much about them I feel like I know them all. Would have loved to meet Karel and Rebecca. Sheex and Leila most of all. They seemed fun. Little Nami, and dork face Regal as Vlad put it. Yeah, it would have been nice to go there and visit. Maybe I can visit them in the afterlife? Oh how cool would it be if the Saint of Swords was there? Nah, he’s probably with his wife. I shouldn’t bother them.

“You’re probably wondering why you are here…” a voice whispered from the shadows.

Is this what they all went through? Is this feeling of dread what they felt? I can understand it to a degree…what would Troy have called it? Parlor Tricks? Yes, this is just one elaborate parlor trick…Freakishly effective though. What would Vladimir have done?

With a devilish smile Melinda opened her eyes.

“I want a number five, extra large with a soda pop and fries, please no tomatoes as I know they aren’t real tomatoes. But then again is any of the food real per say?” A chuckle was heard off in the corner followed by a soft slap of bare feet upon the marble floor. “OH NO!” Melinda cried out in the driest sarcasm she could muster. “Seth Dahlios the boogey man is out to get me! Whatever will I do?”

The shadows began to swirl around her, laughing as one giant chorus and she had to gulp to keep her composure. She witnessed many different shapes of lions, men, dragons, all manner of vile creatures. She winced in fear, but stubbornly gulped those fears down again as she laughed back.

“Come on, Aerith, this all you got?” The darkness seemed to linger for a moment, then as one it parted like an ominous door opening as a long slender leg stepped outwards in a seductive walk. Aerith had changed, that was for sure. She wore only a loose loincloth with a front skirt that covered only the areas between her legs. She had a small strip of black cloth used as a bra and her hair was tied back in long elegant strands. Around her curvy hips was a small thin belt littered with all kinds of daggers as she took one toed step forward, her feet bare as she laughed silently to herself. Had Melinda not been terrified of this woman, she would have found her sexual appeal desirable.

“Welcome to my symphony hall…” Aerith said lightly. She had a strange change in pace to her tone. No longer was she free spirited and a demon of lust, but now a cold, efficient killer that was stalking a prey that was trapped. Melinda now saw what others could never see before. THIS, was the Saint of Killers, the little girl before was just the façade.

Melinda tried to speak, but found her mouth unable to produce sound as the shadows laughed, one stepping forward, the shape of a human. He gently lifted his hand forward, talons gripping her throat and she felt tears swell up in her eyes as the life began to leave her. Aerith stepped forward, her hand etching the lines on the stone slab.

“You have much regret, Melinda King?” Melinda couldn’t move. “Do you? I would suspect a vermin like you would. Hunting the gods, killing them and returning them to their tortured life upon their empty thrones within the pantheon.”

She gently lifted one long knife up, a blade heavily favored by Dark Elves in Reven. With the gentlest of caresses the blade ran smoothly down her side and a thin river of blood ran along the blade balancing upon the edge. Gently Aerith lifted the blade up and inspected it before flicking the droplets upon the ground.

Melinda cringed at the feeling, but kept her mouth shut. The shadowy form seemed to mock her, releasing it’s grip upon her throat before gently moving behind Aerith. Melinda looked as Aerith continued to walk around the table, her arms crossed over her chest as one hand gently tapped her chin. She stopped as she looked Melinda over.

“I don’t get it. Surely you have regrets, do you not?”

“How could I? I lived a life nobody could ever dare to dream of!” Melinda shouted to her in defiance.

“You think by a mere act of rebellion that you can hide your feelings from me? What do you think I am, some petty serial killer? A petty murderer!” She pulled out a large butcher’s knife and sized up her hip before swinging wildly. The blade cleaved deeply into her hip and blood splattered upwards into the air before landing down again. Melinda cringed and seethed her pain out, but she didn’t scream.

“I do my homework! I know for a damn fact that you regret this!” Aerith shouted as she pointed to the darkness. Slowly it twirled away like the parting of the sea and Melinda felt compelled to look. What she saw made her heart drop down and her face sag in defeat. Aislinne was looking confused and scared as the shadows enveloped her again.

Aerith jumped upon the top of the table as she pointed to the vaulted ceiling. “THIS IS YOUR REGRET MELINDA KING! BECAUSE OF YOU THE GODDESS OF BLESSED TORTURE WILL BE BORN! SELIOS IS A FOOL TO THINK HE COULD FOOL US!” The clouds parted, and the moon shown down upon the stone slab. Melinda could see the color of the moon fade to a crimson color as the droplets of blood that were spilt on her earlier began to burn with the heat of the forge. Her mouth opened but she did not scream.

Aerith jumped off the table and looked to Melinda. “No, this time you will learn and sing your regrets to my blessed mother.” Aerith took out her fillet knife and began to cut into Melinda’s flesh. Despite the pain, despite the agony, Melinda did not scream. Aerith looked to her before she shrugged her shoulders indifferently moving towards the end of the table.

She pulled out a small potato peeler and serrated knife no longer than three inches and gently placed them upon the inside of her thigh in a suggestive manner. Then with a devilish grin she crawled upon the table and bent low to Melinda’s pelvic area lowering her tools of the trade.

“You will scream for the Blessed god!”

Melinda shouted out to the heavens in agony as she felt the knife lacerate her.

“You will live for the Blessed god!”

Melinda’s face was covered in tears as her body shivered from the touch. Then she felt something wrench deep inside her, tearing her apart from the inside. Her cries reached a fevered pitch.

“You will die for the Blessed god!”

Melinda couldn’t handle it anymore. The pain became to much as she wallowed in despair and screamed her lungs out. Tears began to pool in her mouth and she coughed them back up as she cleared way for a fresh scream. Each note echoed throughout the Cathedral to the night sky sending shivers down the Cassandran Priests who could only hear the Requiem. Aislinne began to cry for Melinda, thinking the worst as the moon shed it’s light down.

Aerith leaned in close, rubbing her body up against Melinda’s body as her blades moved upwards. She began to saw away at her chest, cutting off a nipple and shaving away the chunky edges with her potato peeler. Her lips met next to Melinda’s ear and she whispered in the softest of voice,

“You will regret for the Blessed God…”

The screams reached a new pitch, a pitch that nobody gathered thought they could hear. It was a pitiful wail far louder than the agony of pain or loss. It was cutting deeper than any wound and it echoed throughout the ceiling as the shadows joined the howling wails.

A red light shined down upon the marble floor just a few feet before the table, illuminated from the moon itself as droplets of blood began to rain down inside the Cathedral. Some of the Serial killers began to turn on each other, killing them and screaming praise for Cassandra Remi while others slit their own throats, unable to handle the monsters they had become. A select few fell to the ground muttering incoherently as they gazed into the looming darkness the birth of their god.

Aislinne felt the droplets splash down her face and burn her flesh as if it was boiling water, and her eyes looked into the darkness to see what nobody else could as it softly parted away.

Melinda looked forwards past Aerith’s shoulder as she saw a flash of lightening over the sky as one terrible wail of agony that not even Melinda could match screamed down from heaven itself, and as it grew louder the glass above the room shattered falling all over the room. Then with a sickening thud sound the blood in the room began to drip together as the shadows swirled upon one spot.

Even Aerith and the dark companion near her stopped torturing her long enough to look at what was happening as Melinda’s whimpers died down.

Softly stepping out of the shadows with elegant features was the most divine beauty Melinda had ever seen. Her black hair bounced around her shoulders, covering her naked breasts as blood fell from her hair. With a soft chuckle she looked to Melinda and her gaze met with the mortal’s. She felt a terrible wave of dread wash over, and without even being touched Melinda began to scream her regret louder than ever before.

Cassandra Remi laughed with her, matching her pitch as Aerith leapt upon the table, her blade working in furious motions as she began to swipe off bits and pieces of Melinda. But no amount of cuts could get a scream equal to the regret of Melinda knowing she let Cassandra back into the world with her screams.

The goddess of blessed torture let her child continue to torture Melinda, Aerith’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she wept to see her blessed mother before her in all her divine beauty. She let the shadows swirl around her, creating some sort of robe that let the imagination wonder to her beauty as she stepped before Aislinne.

Aislinne kept her face neutral as she glared to Cassandra, not showing any fear to the goddess of blessed torture. The divine being simply smiled, a smile so warm and inviting, like a friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time. She had a beautiful set of hazel eyes and she placed the softest of hands upon Aislinne’s cheek running it down to her chin where she held her face so she looked to Cassandra.

Then all at once her smile turned disgusting and ugly, her eyes became vile and full of malicious intent as her mouth opened. Honey and slime coated each word and Aislinne nearly puked from the emotions stirring within her.

“Do you fear me child?” Cassandra asked.

At first Aislinne was going to immediately respond a defiant phrase, but then she felt a sickly cold aura fill her being. It felt like every inch of her fiber broke, every ounce of her will snap, and all her resolve crumble as the overwhelming dread washed over like a tidal wave.

She regretted coming here, she regretted being in this spot and leaving Jared and Sarah, leaving them alone without anyone to care for them. The regret of knowing they would be haunted to see their self proclaimed child die.

More than that she regretted never being able to see Wilfred again. She knew the golem for many, many years and only recently have the two started to act upon their feelings. She regretted not being able to see him for coffee, to teach him something simple in life while he taught her something ancient and wise. She had wondered how Wilfred would hold her, comfort her, kiss her. Now she would never know as she starred into those damned hazel eyes.

She regretted her life now.

“Yes.” Aislinne choked out, tears brimming her face as Cassandra drew back and laughed wildly to the moon as she grabbed the girl before her by the hair, dragging her away into a room to become Cassandra’s first playmate back in the world.

And all across Althanas a wave of dread washed over the land followed by a dark chuckle.

[KOA]

The helicopter zoomed through the Salvarian air district as Vladimir stood behind his pilots, hands held over his chest as he looked down upon the wreckage of his humvee force. Steena had been patient enough to take an entire ten minute rage from Vladimir as he couldn’t believe his order was infiltrated by so many cultists. He now brooded silently as he left Wilfred sitting in the Vulture’s cargo area with his most loyal knights, the inner circle.

The elf and Hardun were able to get to Salvar two hours after the immortals parted ways, there mission to link up at the base there and take care of logistics and intelligence. They had almost walked into a death trap if not for the timely warning by Melinda to count off all knights. The war between the two factions was short and bloody, most of Vladimir’s base laid in ruins as carefully planted explosives went off killing dozens in the cultists sudden attack. Hardun and Steena placed a few warriors in charge after the incident as they made way for the church.

The air battle that raged overhead between the vulture and the Chinook immediately violated Vladimir’s contract with the Salvarian military and it was all the influence and favors he had left to keep the massive army from marching upon his few scattered bases and arresting him. He had to talk with the General of Salvar on his headset for twenty minutes to get him to calm down enough to negotiate a terms to allow Vladimir’s base and workers to continue operating in Salvar under peaceful terms.

All these events were pushed to the back of his mind, however, as he kept thinking back to Melinda. Cassandra was reborn, and the location was now clear as day. She picked Salvar at her main church, and for it they were all now deificly screwed. The Goddess of Blessed torture was back, and he had sent Melinda right to her with no thought that this event could have actually happened.

His hand lifted to his head where he softly began to rub at his temple. He had never in his entire life been so royally had before. Sure he had moments he felt stupid and shown up, but this masterpiece of planning by Cassandra Remi out did everyone in his past. He wondered how old he really had become, his mind wondering if he was still in his youth would he have fallen for these mistakes.

We take our Experience and call it Wisdom…

He thought about Steena’s words and his only response was slamming his fist into the metal frame of the vulture, feeling the pain writhe down his knuckles as he focused on that instead of his foolishness. Vladimir Sigma did not feel very wise at the moment.

“We will be landing soon,” his pilot told him in fear of his outburst. Vladimir nodded only in response as he walked towards the back of the bird. When the door opened he saw Wilfred looking to his feet in quiet contemplation. The golem looked beat up and shaken and the closer they got to the citadel the more worried Wilfred’s face became.

It was no secret to Vladimir that the construct grew feelings of love for Aislinne, and the Black Mage had to be destroying himself from the inside out for agreeing to let the woman he loved go to the lion’s den. His golden orbs softly trailed up Vladimir’s pant leg as he looked towards Vladimir’s face. He held an expression of sorrow, pleading in his eyes for Vladimir to lie to him and tell him Aislinne was alright. All the dark knight could do was sigh and turn his back on the golem, feeling his hair he dyed white.

“The moon is red,” A knight said pointing to the harvest moon in the sky. Both immortals stole a glance at the crimson circle in night sky and a wave of dread washed over the entire helicopter. The chopper began to descend slowly towards the surface, the sound of sirens and the hustle of activity on the streets below blaring towards the heavens.

After a few minutes of agonized waiting the helicopter touched the ground. Vladimir extended his hand to Wilfred, giving the golem the support out of the bird as he ordered hismen to stay put via the headset. With sword and pitols ready he turned to the golem. With a solemn nod he lifted his hand over his head hiding his face behind his hood as the two immortals raced towards the door.

Vladimir wasn’t expecting resistance at all. Chances are Cassandra pulled out after her magic trick and was enjoying new life in the world of Althanas. According to Seth, once a deity claimed a physical manifestation all strings of fate tied to them were blurred and cut free. No god like power could shape the future anymore when more than one god was in the physical world. Had it still been just Seth, he could look into the future and get a very clear understanding how things would go.

This revelation made him falter in his steps as he thought about this in more depth. If those words ringed true, then Selios would have been able o predict Cassandra’s coming, and by going to the deific library known her location of resurrection. The more he thought on this, the more he felt a burning hatred boil within him, but he calmed himself. Selios may have a good reason for not knowing the true place of Cassandra’s rebirth. He had better have a good reason.

He pushed those thoughts aside and watched Wilfred blast the door down with his magic, pacing into the cathedral shouting Aislinne’s name, his worry clear as day. Vladimir had wanted to chastise him for his rookie behavior, but what could he do to calm the man down? He entered into the catherdral with pistols held at the ready looking around the vaulted ceiling for any stragglers foolish enough to stand in their way.

He watched Wilfred go down a dark hallway and stop abruptly as he brought a hand to his mouth. Vladimir quickly hastened over to the golem and stopped as he looked down the darkened pathway. As his eyes narrowed he saw what the golem had seen, a mutilated body on some kind of stone slab. He looked to the hair first, seeing Melinda’s soft brown locks and he placed a gentle hand on Wilfred’s shoulder. The golem looked to Vladimir with tear filled eyes.

“It’s not Aislinne, Wil,” he said softly. “It’s…” and then it hit him like a stack of bricks. The sudden realization that that mutilated body was none other than Melinda King, figurehead ruler of Knight’s of Apocalypse Enterprises, Inner Circle knight, and personal friend, something he had so few these days. He took a shuddering step backwards as he felt the shadows in the room all howl in laughter to him. He began to feel tears well up in his eyes as he looked to the body and it all built up in his chest.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Wilfred said sincerely, but despite the generosity of his kind words they did have a hint of gladness to them. Glad it wasn’t Aislinne. Vladimir swallowed his feelings in one gulp as he moved forward with Wilfred slowly in tow. The darkness continued to howl at the immortals, mocking them each step they took like dogged zealots in a frenzy.

When they approached the table Melinda’s body softly moved and Vladimir rushed to the table, taking her hand in his as he looked to her ruined face. Her lips were cut open and she bled from her nose badly as her forehead was missing soft patches of skin. Her nostrils were both cut at the tips, making a disgusting flare whenever she breathed. The killer was nice enough to leave her eyes alone.

“It’s my prince…” she breathed weakly. Vladimir smiled to her despite himself as held her hand tightly lifting a hand to her head and softly stroking her blood caked hair. Melinda’s eyes focused on Wilfred for a moment and a terrible sadness filled them. Despite that moment of regret she put on the best smile she could.

“Hi Professor Waltz…” she pointed to a door with her other hand. “I am so…”

“Shush child,” Wilfred said happily patting her arm as he moved towards the door. “What’s over there?”

Melinda kept her eyes on Wilfred’s before she looked away. “I tried…” she rasped in one breath. “I tried…” Wilfred already knew what she was saying and with the quickest of movements he cupped her face so that she was looking at his.

“I do not hold any ill feelings towards you. You tried Melinda, that is all I can ask.” he said weakly as he looked towards the door. “If you’ll excuse me…” he whispered as he bolstered himself before walking towards the door. When he opened it and peered inside he stopped for a moment, and then smiled walking in and shutting the door.

“I feel…bad…” she said looking up to Vladimir. The dark knight placed aw arning finger on his lips.

“You did your best,” Vladimir assured her. “I am proud.”

“You don’t even know what I did.” she whispered, smiling to him as she had tears swelling in her eyes.

“Knowing you, probably annoyed the shit out of them.” he laughed. He could hear graceful footsteps followed by short hobbles as Steena and Hardun made way into the room, looking at the table and flinching in disgust. Vladimir turned to them, and with an understanding nod they awaited at the entryway. He looked back to Melinda.

“I refused to scream for her,” she said proudly though her voice was faded. “I wouldn’t let them take me easily…” she coughed up blood as Vladimir held her gently in his arms. “I was a bitch until the end…” she smiled closing her eyes.

Vladimir continued to stroke her hair as he felt his anger at the situation grow and rise, but he pushed those negative feelings away as looked down upon her and smiled. She looked back to him and smiled, her eyes brimming with tears.

“One more time,” she said peacefully. “I want to hear about Irrenes one more time…” she coughed a bit as the exhaustion in her tone nearly broke her. “About everyone…don’t spare a single soul…I want to know about those people…” Vladimir looked to her with a deep look of sadness, but nodded once.

“Very well,” he said as his eyes fogged over remembering every detail of the peaceful town. “First off, there was a tavern by the name Sheex’s, which is owned by a man I owe a great deal to. You see, Sheex Deltin is the kind of soul that is good hearted, truly good hearted. Not in the paladin sort of way, but in the way every hero should be. Accidental, and full of passion to help people because it’s what THEY believe in their heart is right. He showed me without even knowing it how to take a problem and find a solution, no matter what the obstacle is and fight for it without lifting a single sword…he was a coward, and I don’t think I would ever hold another coward in higher esteem than he.

“He is married to a little red head named Leila. Fiery little girl that one is. She taught me without even knowing it how to love unconditionally and hold onto the things the matter the most. For a woman who was terrified of me she had no hesitations in lifting her crossbow on my sights and threatening to pull the trigger if she felt her family was being threatened. Her determination to protect her family far outshined anything I could ever do with my own convictions.

“They have two beautiful children: Nami and Guy. Nami loves to play music, always in her father’s bar playing a flute, an ocarina, her favorite by the by,” he nudged her elbow softly. “whatever instrument she had available. She worships her father, and loves him because Sheex Deltin saved her life from her real father. Some child abuser. While you have a charming smile, nobody can hold a candle to the smile that girl can produce.” Vladimir smiled softly thinking to her perfect smile.

“Guy is the last Saint of Swords, and the greatest of the three who held the title. Every deed that was rumored capable of the Saint of Swords was made real by Guy, who took Karel’s blade and brought back a dignity the title lacked when Karel held it. Yet, the thing that Guy learned while being the Saint of Swords is something Karel never learned, and I was blessed to learned by simply being near him. Nothing matters in the world more to him than having his mother say how proud she is of him, a father who said yes and stayed to make a family, and a sister who tells him he is the best brother in whole world.” Vladimir looked to Melinda, who was grinning despite the pain as her eyes were closed. Teas ran down her face but she opened them as she looked at Vladimir with disapproval.

“Go on!” she insisted. Vladimir chuckled as he gripped her hand tighter.

“Well, across from the bar is a place called Noel’s. Not a single place in the whole world has food better than Noel’s. I mean it. Ever since she passed the food hasn’t been the same. The amount of love she cooks with is…is just unattainable in this world anymore. Most of that love was geared towards her husband, Troy Priam.

“Troy is captain of the town guard. I have a lot of respect for that man, a man who died a long time ago but yet still found a way to live in the end. He showed me that even when life has given you no reason to continue you must instead find your own way to push yourself onwards, despite the marching of time. He was friend’s with Nami’s husband, Regal Burnswidth. That idiot was always saying the weirdest things and…” Vladimir held for a moment as a tear fell down his face. “And I find myself each day wanting to hear his idiot comments more and more. You would have loved Regal, Melinda. He’s just your type of insane mixed in with a good heart.”

Melinda’s hand squeezed his as she looked to him expectantly. He could see the life in her eyes fading fast and he could feel the agony she was hiding deep within herself. He took in a deep breath and desicded to hurry it along.

“He was friend’s with Paul Donovan, a hero of Emprea you know. He’s a wild man, like Regal, but less likely to say something randomly stupid. You see, he was in love with a woman who stabbed him. God only knows how the hell one can call that love, but he loved her anyway. His wife is Viola Conda, the main Hero of Emprea. She loved Paul back, but the two never acted on those feelings until much later. All I know is they both work at the Blacksmith, and they both love to pretend to fight. Heh…it was Viola’s best friend, Seed Vicious who introduced the two again.”

Vladimir remained quiet as he looked to his feet. Melinda lifted her hand to his elbow and touched in gingerly before she said in a raspy voice, “It’s okay, I’ll let you skip Seed. I already know a lot about him from Wilfred.” Vladimir nodded.

“The last person of importance in that little town is a woman I have grown to admire as much as my beloved Serra. She was Rebecca Raven, Karel’s beautiful wife. Now if there could be such thing as class, she was the epitome of it. And if spoiled could have a poster child, she would be that child.” Vladimir smiled.

“She…she was a curious thing. Knowing full well Karel and I hated each other she forced us to sit and have a dinner together. That was her idea of making things work between us. Well the idea was stupid, even Karel was trying to convince her otherwise. Hell her brother Troy and her best friend Sheex both tried to advise against it. Yet she demanded that the man who took her husband away for months at a time at least be able to sit and have dinner with her.

“Slowly each time I visited I got to know more and more about her. The pain I had caused her, the pain Karel had caused her. Yet she smiled despite it all, despite the pain. Spoiled brat she may be, but a fierce woman who is strong in her beliefs. I grew to respect her the most in that town, and I would do anything to make her smile.” He looked back down to Melinda and could see the pain in her face. "She taught me how to smile, despite the pain in the world you feel..." Melinda smiled to him.

“All that remains is Karel and as I told you, Karel is someone you’ll just have to meet in the afterlife.” he said softly stroking her hair again. She smiled again and nuzzled his touch. “You are in a lot of pain, aren’t you Melinda.” he stated it as a fact as his tone sobered up. She nodded once and looked to him. “I will take this away from you then, this pain.” he said in a whisper as he lifted his hand to her cheek where he gently stroked it.

After a few minutes of looking into her face he put on the best smile he could, forcing it if need be. He would be damned if Melinda’s last image of him was of hate and rage and anguish. He gently lifted his six barrel pistol up and placed it over her forehead.

“Do you…” she whispered in a fleeting tone. “Do you think that I can go to Irrenes, and meet your friend’s?” He could see the tears drip down the side of her face, and Vladimir’s tears fell down to meet hers.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” he whispered back. “Of course you are going to be with them.” she smiled at that as he looked away.

The gunshot went off and Melinda King dreamed forever more.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred looked upon the table in the room, his eyes scanning the body of Aislinne as he worried for the worst.When her fingers shifted and retracted he moved to her side swiftly, his hand inching near hers but never touching. The woman looked like a mess, her face was beyond mutilated, her body was cut in large chunks and the three different syringes sticking out various parts of her body were most defiantly poisons that the goddess of blessed torture had used to enhance Aislinne’s pain.

The golem’s face contorted into a mask of rage as he hid behind his hood. His eyes looked away from the body as he clenched his hands in digust. Cassandra Remi wasn’t a blessed god of anything, she was a damn butcher! The fact she got sick psychotic freaks to worship her made the black mage’s head swirl with anger. People like her needed to die, people like her needed to stay dead!

“Wi….lfred….” a voice called out weakly. His eyes immediately turned to see Aislinne’s orbs looking to him. They seemed glossed over and foggy and he realized the poor child had gone blind.

“Yes! It’s me!” he whispered to her. “How did you know?” Aislinne attempted a smile, but failed. She spoke again, strength filling her words but they still sounded ragged. She seemed to age considerably in the few minutes spent with Cassandra.

“You always sigh when you are around me. It’s very audible. Like someone who doesn’t want to say a bad word but can’t think of anything else to say…” Wilfred chuckled as he knelt down next to her. He eyed the syringes and debated whether to pull them out. After careful consideration he lifted his hand and removed them carefully placing them on the ground next to him.

His hand hovered near hers as he lifted his other hand to stroke her hair, but he hesitated as he swallowed the spit inside his mouth. He felt sweaty and anxious and his heart couldn’t stop beating and he had no clue why. Shaking his head he let out another sigh.

“There it is again,” she whispered, but this time she forced the smile despite the pain. Wilfred laughed, a forced nervous laugh as he looked to the woman he had fallen in love with. He wanted to storm out of the cathedral and burn it to the ground, then hunt down every last member of the cult of the blessed goddess of torture. He wanted to make them suffer the way that they made Aislinne suffer.

“I feel so terrible,” she said in a defeated tone. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t get over my regrets. She made me scream each and every one. My screams echoed and pounded in my ears. It was so terrible, Wilfred!” He looked to her, seeing the pain in her eyes and he took one gulp of his emotions before grabbing her hand.

Her skin was amazingly soft.

“Do not regret a single thing, child.” Wilfred said with passion. “Do not let her think she broke you. You have no regrets, for I saw you live a fulfilled life that no one could ever dare to even dream.” Aislinne’s fogged eyes looked to him, tears brimming her face.

“I do though,” she whispered. “I regret…many things…” she spoke in pain and Wilfred thought of what the mighty Sheex Deltin would do. He lifted himself up and wrapped his arms around her to offer her comfort, but her tears did not stop. Thinking quickly he thought what Troy Priam would do, and with a gentle finger he wiped away her tears. Still she trembled, still she cried. He racked his brain for answers, he thought to what his friends would have done, what a human would do in these situations. Then suddenly he realized what he had to do.

Forsaking everything he knew he instead did what he felt he should do, and lowered himself to her and kissed her gently on the lips. She at first hesitated in the moment, but her lips met with his. His hand still stroked her beautiful face, wiping away her tears as she calmed down. He lifted away from her, smiling to her face.

“I should have probably done that a long time ago,” he admitted. “I realize now that I have probably been a bit too dependant on what other humans would do. I tried to mimic their reactions to situations but I forgot something important. I have my own heart to follow, and it was only because of your kindness, your love, that I was able to figure that out. Why in the world should someone as blessed as you feel regret for showing a golem how to be human?”

Tears streaked her face again, but he let them flow as her body stopped trembling in fear. She gripped his hand tightly, using all her strength that was quickly fading and he gripped her hand back just as tight. He lifted his hand up to remove his hood as he looked to her without obstruction, his hand returning to stroke her hair.

“I owe everything I am to you,” he whispered softly into her ear. “The good in this world you have done far outweighs anything a stupid goddess says. What concepts of love would Cassandra Remi know? Her words are meaningless for she has no heart to speak from.” Aislinne sobbed as she nodded to him, her head nuzzling into his lap as he smiled to her.

Pain etched her features as she let out a violent spasm, her lips letting out a cry of agony as Wilfred gently removed her back to a prone position. She steadied herself as his hand never let hers go, taking in deep raspy breaths as she calmed herself down.

“I wanted,” she said in a barely an audible tone. “I wanted so badly to have that cup of coffee with you. I looked so forward to everything we could have experienced. I was looking forward to being with you. It’s so silly, but I looked forward to our future together.”

“Regret nothing,” Wilfred said sternly. “I am with you now, and nothing in the world means more to me than this moment.” he smiled to her softly. “We never needed a cup of coffee or a preordained ritual of a date to understand that I love you and you love me.” He lowered his face and nuzzled her nose with his. She cooed softly to his touch.

“I won’t.” she promised. “Not anymore. I have your love now to give me strength.” her lips parted into a smile, and a little blood escaped her mouth and nose. Wilfred wiped it away with a deft hand stroking her chin.

A loud gunshot exploded from the room next to them and Wilfred felt his heart jump. Aislinne also seemed to jump at the sudden noise, but both of them just gripped each other tighter. “I feel bad for Melinda,” Aislinne said. “She didn’t deserve this fate…she was so free spirited and loving. I envied that in her.”

“Nobody deserves this fate!” Wilfred spat angrily. Aislinne’s smile faded a fraction. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. She nuzzled with his knee again.

“You had the most beautiful eyes, Wilfred. They were what made me fall in love with you. Unlike Vladimir’s golden eyes yours were full of life, of happiness. They melted my heart so much I dreamed about them all the time.” Another violent wave of torment washed through her body as she trembled and this time Wilfred held her in both his arms, kissing the top of her head whispering how she would be okay.

He held her like that for a long moment, rocking her gently in his arms as tears fell down his face. He hadn’t recalled the last time he actually cried. It was so long ago, so very, very long ago when he cried. Only after the death of his beloved brother and sister had he cried like this. He was bound and determined to say what he couldn’t’ say to them however.

“I can take away your pain child.” Wilfred spoke softly into her ear. “I can make this torment and suffering end. Do you trust me?” She nodded as her hand lifted from his to the golem‘s chest.

“With all of my heart.” she whispered.

Wilfred stood up softly, letting his fingers feel each inch of her smooth skin. He looked into her eyes, looked into her soul as he smiled to her, then with the softest of words he uttered,

“I love you, Aislinne.”

She smiled at those words, her heart purging all the regret she had stored in there as her love for him cleansed the darkness in her soul. He began to mutter silently under his breath words of power, and she felt the very fabric of her soul begin to black out. She had heard of this once before, from Sarah and Jared. It was the Black Mago’s Lords Soul Sleep spell. Within minutes she wouldn’t feel anything or comprehend anything. Soon she would just be asleep never to awaken.

The pain and the aches vanished from legs first, then her arms and torso. Her fingers felt a little numb, then her toes before she began to lose all feeling completely. She smiled to him through the whole thing, making sure he understood just how much the golem had meant to her. As the last of her soul began to drift away her eyes cleared of the fog from Cassandra Remi’s poison and the last site she saw made her think how much she loved the black mage.

Before she drifted away forever she got to see Wilfred’s eyes one last time.

[Tainted Bushido]

"So, how many do you think are in there?"

"I'd say easily twenty or thirty. None of them Cassandran priests though…"

Taka and Jensen were outside the target area, moving with a silence that belied the maelstrom of chaos they were about to engage. They hadn't said much to each other, mainly because Jensen knew Taka was the only one who the immortal couldn't annoy. At the end of the day he had only ticked off Taka a handful of times, the most recent being within a few months of meeting the fellow Immortal. When Taka had joined the Immortal Progeny, Jensen had groaned over losing a chance to make fun of a brand new target.

Still as they stood outside in the cold air of the Carthage autumn Taka couldn't help but feel the chill of the grave in this place. So much death pervaded this area of Carthage that he couldn't help but feel the spirits begging to be put at peace. Given time, he made it a point to request the Goddess to return here, and do the deed. At the very least he owed the warriors that fell here long ago that much.

"Hey, I just noticed, your normal blade ain't on your hips. You lose it in a poker game or something?" Jensen asked, intruding on Taka's thoughts.

Taka had long ago lost the trappings of his former life. When the time had come to fulfill his destiny, for the final time, he had completed all his tasks, then promptly abandoned the trappings of his old life. He knew that to this day, a small shrine to Enma-O held the battered Saya and Katana that had felled the head priestess of N'jal. Further, the mask that had hidden the man who had defeated the Endbringer lay next to it on the rock. The cave that housed the shrine had been left untouched for years, the priests seeing to that. A blade that had been forged by death, in death, and created only more death had finally been put to rest.

The wielder had followed soon after, heading to his eternal rest to join his wife, and in doing so became the only tainted warrior to escape the clutches of Jigoku.

Of Course, Jensen only now caught up on the ancient history of the Herald. Taka then clucked his tongue before he spoke, "Shinzuken is insulted that you would mistake it for Rengoku. I merely remind it you were a fool when we first met, and that has not improved over the years."

"Oooh, Taka's growing a pair. Insulting the Jensen, whatever shall I do!?" The immortal said as he twirled about Taka. Moving in his way, Taka carefully removed Shinzuken from its spot on his belt and looked at the door. Jensen frowned before he said, "Wait, that’s Iado, you only use that against people that gotta die fast. What's the catch Taka?"

"I don't need to keep my blade out, they'll be unable to stop it from returning to the sheath. In the Marducist faith I have a name, I could translate it to you, but would rather say it in Tradespeak, it loses some flair in the common language that has taken the world over…" Taka replied a small smirk crossing his face.

"Ooh, Taka's getting feisty. My little samurai's all grown up! What do they call you? Dog that barks twice? Bitch that can't die?" Jensen said. Taka snorted softly in derision at the pathetic attempts at angering the Herald, knowing it was more to keep up appearances than anything.

"Runco of pallens," Taka replied before he gestured to the door, "Shall we?"

"Just one question, if we know the Cassandrans aren't here, why are we doing this?"

"Marduk's part of this power play, any chance to weaken his faith will be useful in the day's to come. If she gets free we can only imagine he's getting brought through after her. That is a problem I cannot allow to be left unattended."

"So, you going to go Saint of Swords on their ass?" Jensen asked, causing Taka to pause.

How did he know about that?

"You're mistaken, I was never Saint of Swords, that title belonged to Karel Raven. I would think the direct subordinate of Vladimir Sigma would be knowledgeable of the history," Taka replied.

Jensen grinned cruelly, "Alright Saint lets go beat up some bad guys!"

There were some days Taka hated the Champion of Famine.

[Lavinian Ambition]

The helicopter swooped into Salvar airspace, even as they broadcasted their transponder appropriate. Not bothering to wait for clearance they dove straight towards the Temple of Cassandra. Multiple men were upon the chopper sitting on the metal benches as they watched the doorway, left open as someone was holding onto the hand railing and looking down below. They had all heard of his temper, but this, this was far beyond the rage they had heard. Normally the Salvarian climate would chill a man to the bones…

Some of the men could have sworn they could feel the sweat pouring down their neck as the rage this man was radiating heated them.

A woman sat legs crossed in a rather alluring pose, sitting on the bench next to the man. They had spoken briefly when the chopper had descended to pick them up, only to go the entire seven hour trip in silence. Moving over the last mountain they swopped low, preparing to land outside the Cathedral. As soon as the Helicopter stopped its forward moment and was only a few feet off the ground, the man was off hitting the ground in a perfect tuck and roll before coming up. The woman soon followed after him muttering about his impatience.

They could all feel it, a storm in the air, and at its center, stood those two…


~*~

Jared as soon as he hit the ground was off storming towards the cathedral. Sarah was jogging to keep up with him, a rather impressive feat for a woman in a miniskirt, but manageable only in the fact she was wearing boots rather than her normal heels. She could see Jared reaching behind him, grabbing a clip of ammunition before he carefully switched clips. Frowning she understood why when they reached sight of the doors. Carefully aiming his gun he waited till he was in nominal range before he let off bullets in a carefully controlled pattern.

Explosions rocked the building as the doorway was torn apart, first at the hinges, then at the lock itself. The doors fell to the ground, making the Lavinian not even have to slow his stride as he moved through the area. The gun armed with explosive bullets was holstered in favor of the one armed with rubber bullets, much to Sarah's relief. The two of them made it to the antechamber without incident before they saw the other group. A small team of Knights was already locking down the area as they coordinated the growing presence of the Knight's of Apocalypse in the area.

Seeing Jared move in swiftly one of the men straightened up before he spoke, "Cassandra and all members of her cult have abandoned the building. All that are left are the survivors-"

"Where?" Jared cut the man off with a harsh look and a single word. A hand pointed towards the vestibule area and Jared was off, Sarah crying out for Jared to slow down for a moment. He moved through doors slamming them open in his wake, making it abundantly clear he was coming. Soon they came to twin chambers, Wilfred walking out of one, while Vlad exited another. Jared looked at Wilfred, and the golem slowly shook his head. The wind left Jared's sails with that innocent gesture before he asked, "Where?"

Wilfred gestured behind him as Jared rushed into the room. He froze seeing Aislinn left upon a stone slab, or rather, what remained of Aislinn. He moved over to the unmoving form of the girl his body seeming to be drawn in as Sarah moved to the edge of the room and pulled back, almost immediately being driven to a frenzy by the scent of blood in the air. She carefully fell back as Jared looked her over, and was choked to see what was left of her chest rise and fall.

"I did it again…" He said siftly as he looked over the girl. His eyes filled with pain as he carefully hugged the downed form of his Lieutenant. He then spoke softly, "I tried to give it back Ais, really I did. You weren't ready for it yet, you weren't ready to receive it. Another year, maybe two tops and…" He stopped as he carefully pulled back, feeling her blood on his hands and face. Idly he wiped it further across his face as he tried to remove it, not realizing the folly. He closed his eyes softly before he spoke, "I suppose it wouldn't be a curse if it was that easy to overcome. More of an annoyance…Alright, time to send you back to the Kharmic circle…"

Carefully he pulled another clip from his coat. This one was quickly loaded before he pulled back on the top of his handgun. He then looked upon the sleeping form of Aislinn before he said softly, "I'm sorry Ais, I wasn't strong enough this time…"

The gun went off sending a sound like thunder through the Cathedral, and somewhere, hiding in the darkness, if one strained, they could hear a dark chuckle.


~*~

Sarah stood in the room outside the two sacrificial chambers crossing her arms under her chest before she looked at Wilfred, "I'm so sorry. We didn't know-"

"Only one man did, and he didn't see fit to warn us, before he sent us on our wild goose chases…" Wilfred cut her off, the anger evident in his eyes.