Intervention

[Amber Eyes]

Beneath her feet lay everything, the lush grasslands of Raiaera, dotted constantly by forests. The still mostly untamed coves of the Island of Scara Brae seemed to call to her. Salvar's tundra shined brightly as the sunlight glisened upon the snow. An airship momentarily blocked out a large part of the distant land of Alerar, pointing out the drastic differences between there and the near-empty desert of Fallien. The sun behind her was still shining brightly though half of the continents were beginning to become covered in darkness, it was time for rest in the halls of Ixian Castle. The men and women would be sleeping peacefully soon, greatful to their 'savior' for sparing more innocent lives. They would never know just how close the knights had come to throwing the entire world off its axis, to gaining control of the largest and most powerful continent. The mystic sighed, thinking of all that was lost and trying to hold back the tears that threatened to sprout each time she called to memory Sei's announcement in Ixian Castle.

Footsteps echoed through the starlit air surrounding her and Kyla wondered what in the void of nothingness sent back the sounds. There was little question of whom was interrupting her contemplation, the monks wouldn't let just anyone into the room when a fight wasn't requested. As the man approached the girl forced herself to stare straight in front of her, as though the mountains of Corone were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. A hand placed itself lightly on the mystic's shoulder and she reached her own up to grasp it. Such a move of love could overtake nearly anything, but it also left a mystic vulnerable. With a quick twist Kyla pulled the man around herself, sending him flying off the metal platform that was her vantage point. She turned her back and took several steps towards the center of the space as she waited for the tell-tale sounds of wings hitting air.

[Silence Sei]

He could still recall the voices of dissent amongst his advisors. He could feel their angry eyes upon him as he made the executive decision to withdraw his troops. The Ixian Knights had been so close to victory. It would have been just another week or so, and Radasanth would have been theirs; the war would have not become this game of cat-and-mouse now being played between himself and the Corone Empire.

The Viceroys were gone, escaped to different parts of the world to sit on new ivory towers. It was so often like the rich to leave the peasantry with the dust of what remained. It was for this reason that Sei volunteered almost every able body left from the Corone War to focus on rebuilding what had been lost. Due to the strong friendship the Viceroys had somehow garnered with a ragtag team of drunken mercenaries, the Mystic was forced to show his more humane side, and help Corone in any way he could.

The Nine Generals (or what was left of them anyways) seemed to disagree with the tactical withdraw of his troops from Radasanth. However, the move seemed to gain the Ixian Knights into more favor with the public. After all, the general who stops his fighting before he destroys everything is the same general that people will flock to in times of crisis. Not many could share the strategical vision of the Mystic, and that was why he was here now, in the citadel.

Of course, Kyla’s ‘attack’, if one could call it that, took the mute by surprise. One second he was trying to console the angry girl, assure her that Corone would be under their control in a matter of days. The next, he was falling off the edge of the platform hurling down towards Althanas.

Luckily, instinct took over, and two giant butterfly wings sprouted from the back of the warrior almost instantaneously. He caught the wind just right upon his descent, and glided his way back up to the platform, his wings beating slowly to keep his body aloft. It seemed as though Kyla was in no mood for consolation.

“Why can’t you see that what we were doing was hurting Corone too?! The Phoenix Ascendant did not win, Kyla! They simply had the blessing of those in the upper echelons of Radasanth’s democracy! They’re nothing! They will be forgotten in weeks if you just don’t let your emotions get the better of you!” As the mute spoke, he reached towards his hips, where a three-sectioned staff laid tucked safely in his pants. He watched the reaction of his relative as he began to draw a weapon.