Jade….

As the portal closed behind the boy he ran away from the soldiers, he didn’t know any of them and he couldn’t be certain of what their reaction to him would be. He shouldered between the legs of on lookers his tattered brown cloak getting pulled off in the process. He almost turned back for it but he could hear the soldiers behind him, coming.

His body ached, the extensive use of magic three times today had left him drained and exhausted. Somehow he managed to make it two streets before his legs began to give out. He glanced back with his bright green eyes seeing that for the moment he had lost his pursuers. He ducks into a spice shop and leans against the wall behind the curtain.

A tall, thin man stands next to an old merchant; his body is bronzed and lean, with three tattooed slash marks down the right cheek. His head was entirely hairless and a scimitar was angled across the front of his waist. The merchant was a grandioso man with a bald skull but a long flowing white beard. Hard brown eyes stare at the boy and he stands slowly.
“Oh the run my friend?” The merchant steeples his fingers, his robes were of a flowing lavender and teal. His fingers were covered in various rings that clanked when he moved them. “I can help you.”

Zafiro turned away from the door and eyed the man and his guard suspiciously, the merchant nodded his head and grinned showing off a couple of gold-crowned teeth and other teeth just plain out missing. The bronzed guard moved with such agility that before he could react Zafiro was firmly in his grasp.

He tried to summon the strength to fight back but nothing came to him, his body was entirely spent. The man clamped a hand that smelled of tangerines over his mouth and carried him roughly through another curtain. A wagon with iron bars in the window sits in an alley in the back with the front of two large horses. The bronzed guard yanks open the door and roughly throws him in his head colliding with the other side roughly causing him to black out.

He wakes as the wagon shakes and rumbles down a narrow street, he rubs his head and looks at the faces of other children in the wagon with him, most were younger and gave him terrified looks. He lifts his head slowly, pain pounding through his skull from where he’d hit his head. Rubbing his head he pulls himself up slowly. He looks out the barred windows at the square where Soul and he had started to follow the Almeddans.

So much had happened in such a short time and his seemingly infallible mentor had left him within a day of the event. He didn’t even know if he’d ever see the arraki again, the orphanage was looking pretty nice right now. Where was he being taken, along with the other children? He presses his cheek against the bar peering forward as best he can, the robes of the merchant hang over the side just enough that he can see it. They were heading the opposite direction of where Soul and him had gone just days prior.

He sat down slowly, defeated, his body still ached and what could he hope to do with no magic to fuel his gems? He had felt so strong helping open the portal and now his lack of strength weighed on him like a stone. Maybe he shouldn’t have run from the Almeddans.

The wagon comes suddenly to a halt and shouting is heard from the front. Zafiro pulls himself up slowly to peer out the window.

In front of the Wagon..

What remained of the Almeddans had positioned themselves at all the exits out of the city, both in a show of power now that the Magistrate had fallen and in an effort to stop the boy that could make portals from leaving.

“You have no right to stop me!” The merchant was shouting, his flabs shaking in anger under his robes.

The six Almeddan soldiers stand in a semi-circle around the front of the cart eyeing both the merchant and his bronzed guard who had dismounted the front of the wagon. “By order of Magistrate Japshoot we are in the right to search everyone and everything leaving the city. Now open the wagon or we will do it by force.”

The merchant huffed and blustered and lowered himself heavily from the seat. “This is a waste of time, I merely have saffron and sage heading toward Joi. A particular artist named Merkus Bolivio loves to add them to his paints and give his art a fragrant smell.”

He holds a key ring in one hand and moves to the door of the wagon with the Almeddans moving to watch, the lead stepping forward to inspect the contents, “I am sure he does, but this is still a matter of security.” The merchant huffs and unlocks the bolt opening the door.

“Well take a look.” The fat man says, pulling back a sleeve on his right arm revealing an amulet of some kind. As the guard takes a step forward the merchant swings his left hand to catch his bare arm just as a small hand wraps around his own right hand.

The guard glances at the Merchant who in surprise at seeing the guard still standing looks down at the hand on his wrist, the amulet, gold with inlaid gems, cracks on his wrist and his eyes look up into the angry blue eyes of Zafiro. The boy smacks him in the forehead.

The merchant stares dumbfounded at the boy moments before a portal begins to open inside his skull tearing it inside out and leaving the fat body headless. The four other guards strike down the unarmored merchant guard as he draws his scimitar.

Zafiro stares at the Almeddan leader who shakes off the hand of the dead body grasping onto his arm, “There are children here who need help, help them and I will come with you.”

Near the grove of trees….

Syvern watches as pieces of skull and brain come out of nowhere in a spray just a hundred feet to his side. He tilts his head in curiosity before turning his attention back to his current objective. He came upon the clearing at almost the same time as winter began to creep into the small area and an army charged forth, an army that had seemingly defeated his golems.

He grounds his teeth in thought, one cracking at the pressure before beginning to slowly heal as acidic blood drips from his lips sliding down his armor without harm. His eyes look onto his other, the creature that had left him to wander the plains of existence as a spirit for a hundred years. The army was charging the group, and his brother was struggling with a chain of spirits that threatened to tear Obstinata from his body.

Syvern hefts his mace and smashes a bettle that wanders too close the fluid of the insect spraying his armor. His eyes roam back to the group, the skeleton in chains, the Goddess bleeding from her prison of chains. The other Goddess having assaulted the leader of the ritual who was unconscious to the side. An army advancing on a legion of insects and his copy to wipe them from the face of Aleris.

That is my right, he snarls in thought bounding across the clearing in his heavily armored form, right for Soul, the arraki locking dark crimson eyes on him. Syvern smashes indiscriminately upon Almeddan and beetle alike with his mace coming upon Soul in a few bounds of his long armored legs. An armored hand lifts to the struggling arraki and places firmly upon his shoulder, this time the magic would not falter.

“Jiku siltrin dal errdegahr illing.” He speaks underneath the helm and watches the arraki scream in pain.

Inside the grove…

The arraki fought against the force of the chain threatening to pull Obstinata from his being and in turn destroy his body. Soul had died long ago; Obstinata had been his escape and had remade his body. The sword was the only thing keeping his physical body intact. An arraki was born with natural immunities to one’s own acidic blood but in creating a false arraki shell that immunity didn’t come with the package.

He watched, helplessly, as Meristali slit the throat of the Goddess of Death and Winter and was attacked by Sharay, the Goddess of Death and Chaos who had just recently attacked the realm itself. The temperature dropped as winter began to grow from nothing as Elysia bled. The cold had no ill effects on the arraki and he watched beetles freeze and grow stronger.

He frowned and closed his hand firmly around the hilt of Obstinata, the ancient blade, six feet long with a dark crimson color and marked with ancient runes. The skull that made up the crossguard had its mouth wide open the nearly invisible chain up souls attached at this very point. His attention turned as an army emerged descending upon the group with savagery in their eyes.

His senses bring his eyes to Syvern as his copy crosses the clearing in his heavy plate armor. The mace smashes beetles and Almeddans that are unlucky to get his path, the lost prince wielding it with immortal strength that crushed armor and exoskeleton with ease. In a matter of moments Syvern’s seven foot frame, mirroring the size of Souls own stood next to the arraki.

The instant his arm touched Souls flesh pain shot through the arrakis body and he fell to his knees. His skin began to peel disintegrate, bone burning to dust as his acidic blood ran rampant upon his own flesh. Zafiro wasn’t there this time to absorb the dark magic, and the spell was placed more forcibly this time. His hair fall from his head as his skull became pockmarked with holes of bubbling crimson as the blood burned him away.

The gauntlet was the last thing after mere moments; its metal was inlaid with markings that prevented its erosion, it still grasped to the hilt of Obstinata floating for a second unmoving in air before the blade is jerked forward by the tension it had created on the chains of souls. It flung around the room the long blade driving into the ground spraying up snow and slashing through beetles. It does a full orbit around the bleeding form of Elysia to drive its point through Syvern.

The lost prince stares down at the blade sticking through both sides of his plate armor and then grabs at his skull as Soul enters his mind, his mace falling into the snow. The arraki and the lost prince fought within the confines of Syverns head.

Not again. Syvern growled and lashed out in his mind and body knocking an Almeddan about to slash at him away. Obstinata still struggles with the chain but searches its soul trap desperately for the original Corpsirian, it he could destroy the spirit then the chain would break and they would be free.

The lost prince lifted his mace with his right hand while his left wraps around the point of the blade. Soul tears in his mind and the left hand wrenches away from the blade and the mace swings wildly. The hulking armored form swung left and right almost comically as the two entities struggled for control of the mind and body.

We need to survive. Soul snarls as his copy struggles again his control. I will not leave you without a body. Syvern forces back in and his hand pushed heavily on the tip of the blade trying to force the weapon out of his body. Soul feels his control began to slip; Obstinata was acting as a channel of his spirit into the lost prince’s body as the blade was slowly pushed out his connection waned.

Obstinata struggling with both the chain and now Souls weight upon its control, but it could feel the Corpirian close within its confines. There. The Corpirian, aware of the fate coming, fought back, but within the soul trap Obstinata was all. The Corpirian screamed as the dark magic wrapped its form and broke it into energy.

The chain snapped at the mouth of Obstinata and Syverns form stumbled back suddenly. The blade of Obstinata glows a menacing red for a moment before dulling. The lost prince’s figure rights itself to block the blow from an Almeddan. The massive armored begin with a sword through his chest and a mace in his hand seemed to be a strange sight indeed but Aleris didn’t seem to be a stranger to such things.

The helm was flung off and one dark blue eye and one crimson eye narrow smashing a beetle into pulp with a stomp. The arraki and lost prince smirked as one their minds blending together. He swung his mace at a beetle which puts up a magical barrier between it and the weapon before clamping its mandibles on his armor as others crawl up his back and legs. One latched onto the back of his neck, screeching and falling back as acidic blood poured over its face. The being stretches his arms out and electricity sparks from the tip of Obstinata and rolls across his armor blowing off the dozens of insects trying to seek purchase under his armor, half are killed the other half resist the effects.

We need to help the Almeddans.

What do you think I am trying to do fool?

Meristali's actions were predictable at best and so when the Spider Birvuo slit her throat, it could not have worked out any better. Elysia said nothing as blood drained from the open wound on her throat; even if she had wanted to, she would not have been able to. Elysia did not protest to Sharay's sudden appearance or the magic that was cast from the false goddess' hands to hurt the spider woman. Instead, Elysia kept her dark eyes locked with Meristali as she fell against a tree, her body layered with blood and burns.

As Elysia would finally fall to her knees, the essence of the Goddess of Winter began to fill the small grove. Snow fell from the vortex in the sky and ice covered the ground, branching off from Elysia and running across the ground. Some bugs, the spiders mostly, that had chosen to drink her blood and feast on her essence were instantly frozen and destroyed from the inside. The beetles appeared to be temporarily immune to the effects of Elysia's blood, which did not concern Aleris' Goddess of Winter for the time being. Even as the beetles grew stronger and began to attack, their rebellion and instinct to protect and serve Meristali would eventually all be for naught.

There grew a point where Elysia was dimly aware of what was going on as far as soul and Obstinata was concerned. Eventually, the loss of blood caught up to Elysia, a large pool of blood around her crumpled form. When her eyelids closed and her body grew lifeless, the chains that rendered her prison became useless. They snapped both from the effort of her death and from the work of Obstinata. The spirits (minus Soul) that had helped to bind Elysia cried out in protest but vanished all at once. In the end, Elysia's form laid a bloody mess on the floor of the grove, though it was clear right before her body disintegrated and broke off into thousands of crystalized frozen shards that there had been a confident smile on her face.


The Temple of Spring...

Aurora's oak tree began to shudder in response as the Goddess of Spring stood vigilantly by. The current behavior of the tree was not normal, but Aurora would know what the tree's sudden movement meant. The tree began to transform; it stretched out and the middle of its trunk began to open up as if a door. Darkness was seen in the hallow of that tree and for a moment it was quiet until the form of Elysia spilled forth from the trunk of the tree, as if the oak had given birth to the Goddess of Winter. Elysia's form, unharmed and nude, was thrust from the tree and to the mossy floor of the temple. Frigid water spilled to the ground around Elysia and then dripped from the opening of the oak tree that slowly began to close again once more.

Elysia pushed herself up on her knees and moved to a sitting position. She did not stand just yet, but did turn her obsidian colored eyes up towards Aurora. As Aurora was still very much alive in Aleris, Elysia never had any intention of dying, a little fact that Meristali did not understand or grasp. For as long as her sister remained, so would Elysia.

Life cannot exist without death and likewise, death cannot exist without life.

"You are quite the blessing to see, my dear sister," Elysia said and then a soft smile did turn Elysia's lips upwards. "Meristali's beetles have drunk my blood. You know what this means, yes? It will not be long before her own children turn against her. Before they belong to Aleris... before they belong to you. My gift to you, Aurora."


Inside the grove...

Though Elysia had "perished" to the eyes of others, to those who had an open eye to the magic that was rampant in the grove, it was clear some part of Elysia had lingered on. The fluttering of snow from the vortex stayed and the ice that had frosted over the ground was reminder of the Goddess of Winter's presence. So even if she was no longer present in the grove, a few might have questioned whether or not Elysia was still alive.

In any case, she had finished what she had come to the grove for. Elysia had put a dent in Meristali's plan. With the Almeddan and Alerian forces that had arrived at the minutes of Elysia's death, it was just a matter of time before hopefully the Spider Birvuo was finished off.

Jade City:

Oh yes, the mocking and curious eyes of a pirate were indeed upon the rather massive man before her, who seemed to be digging a hole in the ground with his pacing. How long would it take a man of Aco's size to wear down such a hole to be tripping over himself, she wondered. He didn't look half bad dressed in his armor, though such thoughts were kept to herself. Especially since they were around his well-armed comrades. His impatience had led to him scowling again.

Damn that orphan boy for vanishing, but she well knew magic drained folks if they used a lot of it, and for a boy so young to be able to weild so much, it was something which had her thinking when she had the time. Most of the time was spent trying to keeping Aco's attention off her boobs! But damn it all, her efforts failed, cause she was pretty sure -every- damned soldier who could see her had their eyes on her chest.

"No one seems to know, and if there are people looking for him, I'm sure he'll be found." she mused, trying to calm the big brute. Like she's been trying for the last half hour. Ugh...he was such a Drama King! Moving from the tree she was leaning against, she approached him and laid a hand on his forearm, peering up into his eyes, her own a resplendent hue of sapphire. "Aco, pacing and ranting won't bring him here any sooner. Quit'cher'bitching and pacing and ...."

Whatever else she might've said was cut off when another of the Almeddans approached. His announcement of the boy being found caused a brow to lift and then she gave Aco a side-ways glance. "See...told ya." And then the Almeddan male screwed up. Majorly.

-Wench-. She'd heard that loud and clear, and there were a few witnesses. She could feel them watching, expecting her to retaliate. In this midst of soldiers who saw weakness as great cowardice, she supposed she ought to indeed show her own strength. Prove to them she wouldn't put up with any of them disrespecting her, even if they didn't know her well yet.

So what, big deal, they were all wearing armor. That meant little to her. She eyed the man who had dared to call her wench and before he could blink more than twice or move away, Aco would see her fingers curling into fists if he were paying attention and through raving. Before either Aco or the other Almeddan realized what she was up too, her eyes narrowed dangerously. A piercing gaze was given to the dumb ass Almeddan while she saw onlookers from the corner of her eyes.

Helm or not....all anyone heard was ...

*SMACK...SMACK..*

She'd slapped him twice!

"Call me -wench- again, you cross-grained, rot-gut breath, cutlass flapping, barnacled bottom-feeding, sludge-sucking, sea slug munching, poop-deck prancing, goat humper! I'll knock your teeth down your gullet so ya shit 'em out the next time ya find yourself in the crap-house!"

Smirking, she eyed the man, hoping his cheeks were rather sore. "Now..you'll afford me the courtesy a -woman- deserves, shit-for-brains, or its my boot up yer arse."

Damnit...now her hand was -sore-.

Little did this lot know she's died before. While it wasn't fun..it had happened..in another realm when she was younger.

Hopefully this idiot who had called her a wench wouldn't end up hating her. One could hope, right?

-------

At some point during the day, she had acquired some fresh clothing from the quartermaster, cause what she'd been wearing had seen better days. She couldn't go all over the place in rags barely covering her, could she? Her feet were still blistered and sore from the state her boots had been in, and she'd thrown them away for the new quarter-boots she sported now. The clothes fit surprisingly well, and even if they were Almeddan wares, it was better than nothing, right? Course if she started streaking through a battlefield, all eyes would be on her and no one would fight. The fighting would start over her, and it'd be a mad frenzy!

Hey....one could dream right?

----------------

At long last it was seeming they would be heading off and now that Zafiro had been found, she wondered if he'd have the energy to pull off another portal, though somehow she doubted it. Moving back to Aco, she hoped she wouldn't get a bitching from slapping his comrade. Pulling him aside, where his comrades wouldn't overhear their discussion while they headed to wherever they were going, she bade him to bend an ear.

"We make it through this..I'll treat you to some well-deserved downtime. If your intending to have me around for a while that is, which by all those lusty looks ya keep giving me, I think that's what you've had in mind all along since ya laid eyes on m'rack." Knowing he had his own duties to perform, she couldn't expect him to be by her side through the whole battle, and she'd prove to these lunkheads she could hold her own.

"The boy might be too tired to rip open a portal, even if he can draw energy from any number of mages. If he were to perish, it seems to me this army couldn't move anywhere save on foot and by horse. I don't see any of the locals ready to be guiding no army through their lands of giving up their horses and mounts. And we wouldn't get to our destination very quick walking or riding." she began. "I hope you have enough mages to open another portal..else I might be having to try." Whatever she meant by that, she knew it might garner his attention.

She had plenty to tell him, but she didn't want to overload his mind with it all in one go. She didn't want to reveal all her secrets in one great fell swoop either and send him running mad either. While she'd originally intended to learn all she could of this army, she hadn't expected to find one man who had taken some interest in her.

"And don't you go worrying about me, you do what your supposed too, and I'll help wherever I can. You just fight when its time, and once its over, we'll find each other on the field, savvy?" Last thing she needed was him worrying over her and getting hurt or dead, and the last thing he needed was her in his way. So while the Phoenix and the Evincan plodded along to what lay ahead, she smiled and followed him to where his friend was leading them.

Thru the roar of battle words were often exchanged. However, understanding what is spoken was something else. Wish's sudden appearance on the battlefield was a surprise. Madrin thought she was long gone from the dangers here. It seems fate often had a cruel sense of humor. He saw her mouth move but, could only hear the last word. The Lord commander didn't think it was the best time to call him a bastard. Madrin could guess the origin of her anger, since he had tested her patience on more than one occasion about resting when injured. When he finished driving the point of his sword thru a large beetle's gapping maw as it tried to pierce him with its' sharp mandibles. Madrin sent the nearest tree to the fey which happened to be a fifteen foot tall oak. It was given orders to protect Wish for as long as it was able.

Madrin had to spend a great deal of willpower choking off the dark rage trying to fill his being. Normally he would allow it to have sway but, the trees were directly linked to his thoughts. If he foolishly unleashed his curse they would harm his allies. With their lack of understanding his wrath everything would seem an enemy except him. He would never allow such a dangerous scenario. This meant he was unable to ignore pain or push his muscles beyond his normal limitations. Also, the blasted limp reduced his speed by half. Madrin wasn't weak by any means but, his strength didn't equal more muscular men. He was built more for agility and stamina. However, eighteen years of fanatical training had turned him into a very sharp weapon.

The spawn of the Spider Birvuo and her insect lover found out this fact as he cut into them. Madrin was flanked by Grand city fighters and mages within a protective circle of mobile trees. Where the sentinels of the woods struck foes became pulp. Mages were directing blast of elemental force causing damage of all sorts. The line of fighters struck the first wave of foes with the clash of metal on natural weapons. Madrin received Aurora's temporary gift, bestowing control of all things naturally born at this time.

The military leader shouted orders to break thru, as he spotted Elysia's form spilling divine blood on the land, bringing an early winter. While the dark woman with power that reminded him of Shray's attacked the spider woman, and Soul mentally struggled with himself. Whoever dared to harm Elysia in pursuit of power, was going to be executed by his hand if they still breathed. Even the gods, with all their power deserved justice! However, he arrived too late to save her. The smile before her body disappeared confused him but, he had little time to grieve. Thieves drank of the red blood that spilled on the snow. "By the gods you will not have you fill only death." The rapidly growing beetles were lifted in the massive limbs of several oaks and flung to the other side of the clearing. Madrin thought quickly and summoned the hardest substance he could think of within the earth. A pillar of diamond lifted the remains of the lady of winter from the soiled ground, taking what blood remained with her. The hard support went up thirty feet into the sky and encapsulated her remnants in an airtight fortification. Nothing else would take from Elysia what rightfully was hers, without a great deal of effort.

While distracted a particularly crafty insect demigod pierced his torso with its' single horn. Pain so much pain, an old friend by far. He severed the horn with a downward slash from his sword a few inches from his stomach. "Heh..., is that the best you got your aim is terrible. My heart and lungs are several inches higher you stupid bastard." Madrin's sword was driven thru the top of its' head pinning the creature to the ground briefly before the blade was withdrawn. The Lord Commander of Eiler went to his knees breathing heavily as his lifeblood flowed out in a steady stream. He touched the ground with his hands. "Not yet my work isn't done. I need more time." The pointed end of the horn only poked out of his back about an inch. It seems his reflexes reduced the impact enough that his insides weren't spilling out as long as he kept the intrusive natural spear in place. How he wished he could use his battle rage to ignore the severe sting. However, such a thing would be no better than killing everyone himself. Clay came at his call thanks to Aurora's present. Madrin packed the wound with it while shielded by trees. The horn wasn't going anywhere for now. He stood drawing the last of his sword's magic to give him energy to fight on. The question was how much longer was the battle going to continue, and would he live to the end?

In Jade City:

Several Almeddans gathered around Zafiro. Approaching them was Acothaein and Nari, accompanied by another Evincan soldier, the latter staring at Nari with a mixture of adoration and fear as he rubbed the side of his face. Acothaein was congratulating Nari's boldness as they neared the group, orange eyes sparkling with pride. He'd already agreed to her terms, with clear hesitation, when she asked him not to try and protect her. Like that would happen!

"Tougher'n most Evincans, she is. And that slap hurt, din't it!? Oh, you should've seen when she almost set me on fire! Haha! She's a feisty one." Acothaein beamed towards Nari, his grin widening. In spite of his bold appearance, the gears were grinding inside that thick skull of his. He wondered if they'd make it through the battle to come. He wondered why she was willing to enter a certainly unpleasant war, a war that she had nothing to do with. He wondered if he would be able to stop himself from trying to protect her, when the time came. He wondered if Zafiro would even be able to get them there in time. "I wonder what yer like in the sack."

Before he could coax a response, they had come upon the wagon and the gathered group. The heavy infantry shouldered through the other Evincans to approach Zafiro, Nari close on his heels. The kid was asking for them to help the other children in the cart. A slender Accersan with angry eyes was shaking his head.

"Look, kid, they have to stay here. Us Almeddans ain't in the business of taking on orphans. We're an army, not a bunch of lonely infertile men who want us a kid to learn the family business an' take care of Shelly and Marge at home when we're off'n the city sellin' mudstones."

Scowling, Acothaein held out his massive arm and shoved the red-cloaked Accersan summoner back. It wasn't hard. Among most of these men, Acothaein seemed to be a giant. Of course, there were other heavy infantry in the Almeddan ranks, but the Accersan before him looked thinner than Acothaein's arm.

"Speak for yourself, lil' man. Last I heard, Curatio was looking for new apostles. And Jasker said to integrate." Acothaein's eyes changed hue, turning a cool brown as he studied Zafiro. "See here, boy, the Curatio House is the House of Healing. We can take 'em, and they can be trained in medicine. They get fed, nice house, an' they can leave after five years if they don't like it. Even if they ain't able to open portals, they can help people. A noble life. We don't send Curatians to battles. They wait, until the fightin's over, and save lives. What do you say? If that's alright with you, we need this gate opened as soon as damned possible. Everyone's waitin' for you, we need your help. Silenti's pissin' up a shit-storm on my people, and we need to .. umm.. bring umbrellas."

Acothaein nodded, pleased with his speech, massive arms crossing across his armored chest as he studied the young man with gems in his palms.

--

The "Crystal Grove":

With so much magic charging through the site, it was no wonder that the grove south of the Grand City was changing. Diamond pillars, rivers of ice, thick snow, and of course the screams of conflict and battle - all these beautiful but frightening elements combined into a truly chaotic scene that would leave any artist scrambling for their brush. Or their sanity.

Smoke roiled from the battlefield, and as they say, where there's smoke, there's fire.

Tempesturo's Champion would have been smiling happily as he came upon his armor, if he had a face. Instead, the skeleton seemed emotionless as it examined the armor. Thanks to the snow, it was impressively easy to find. Thick steam drifted from the ground, gathering in the boughs above to form icicles. Within ten feet of the set of armor (which had been buried under the dirt) there was no snow. Within three feet of the armor, there was no water. Tempesturo's heat blazed proudly even in the midst of this frightening cold, and it left a bulls-eye in the crystalline world to guide Blend.

Once he gathered his equipment from the earth, the champion turned around and headed for the grove once more, the blank sockets that were his eyes bursting into flame. Time for some more Chaos!!!

--

Deverance was busy whipping out sorcery, the mage becoming a pulsing form of energy and violence as waves of elemental magic churned from him in targetted attacks, attacking the grove. Brod Fallarbor was standing at his side, his eyes wide with shock and fear as he watched Deverance wield one element after another with perfect control.

The battlefield had evolved. What began as a mad rush quickly turned into a passive offense, mobile trees gathering around the Almeddan and Grand City soldiers as a first line, while the infantry attempted to dash in through the openings and kill anything that moved. The beetles had grown, no doubt in response to the precious fluids they'd consumed from Elysia. The rarest ones had become larger than a foot, their heads armed with chitinous spears and venomous jaws, their mandibles working as they furiously chanted in an insect tongue.

In the midst of these two obvious battle fronts were Sharay and Syvern. Sharay barely seemed to move as the bodies crumpled around her, convulsing in agony as bitterness flowed from the Goddess in waves. As for Syvern, it was clear no one was sure which side he was on, for the soldiers were hesitant to approach, their eyes constantly returning to the sword that jutted from his chest.

Japshoot felt like he was fighting in a dreamland. Things were happening so quickly, and it was like they'd warned before.. this place had more magic than Almedda could dream of. And here he was, swinging his silly sword, ducking as lightning charged over his head, laughing nervously as he stomped a beetle.. He was out of his league, and he knew it. But there was no way to go but forwards. Always forwards. The training, the bloodlust, and the men to his left and his right - they compelled him. Forwards. For glory, or death.

--

"We're all going to die!" Brod exclaimed for the second time. He was positioned with Deverance at the rear end of the army, defensive and relatively safe from the insects assaulting the army.

Deverance coughed, pausing as the sorcery flowing from his bejeweled fingers faded. "Silenti's droppy balls!" he exclaimed. "I can't keep this up much longer. I'll burn out." Blue eyes whipped towards Brod. "Why aren't you doing anything?! Tell those useless sprites to do something!"

"I'm.. not cut out for this.."

An idea crossed the sorcerer's mind, and he rummaged in his robes for a moment before producing a ring. "Here, and take this. No, don't put it on.. not yet. When you do, you'll get five seconds where time stops. But it only works once a year." He shrugged. "I already used it. Remember that card game..?" The mage studied the battlefield for a moment. "Why aren't they advancing?"

Among the Almeddan forces, a good half of the army had lingered behind while the Evincan and Grand City soldiers charged forwards. Brod glanced at Deverance, a concerned smile on his face. Then he put the enchanted ring on.

The very next moment, Deverance had a wound identical to the one Elysia had earned. In Almedda, they call it a bleeding smile. His neck was smiling, loud and proud, as Deverance's confused eyes whipped around, searching for the man who'd killed him. His hands clutched at his throat, crimson flowing over the gold and gemstones that adorned his fingers.

"Five seconds is all it takes to kill your friend," Brod stated sadly, studying the bloodied knife in his palm. He tossed the blade towards Deverance, who fell to his knees in the snow, his face contorted in a mask of shock. Then Brod called to the lingering Almeddans. "Corpirians! NOW!"

The Corpirian mages, disguised as Almeddan soldiers, let out a fierce rallying cry as death magic flowed into the Almeddan and Grand City soldiers. They were assisted by the angry U'thos sprites, small creatures made of pure fire that dashed through the snow gleefully. Madrin Kir, Japshoot, and many loyal citizens found themselves pinned between four deadly attackers: Sharay, Syvern, the beetles, and the Corpirians.

As Meristali said.. Isn't this beautiful?

While Elias waited to hear news of what was going on with Madrin Kir, Cyrus Rose and the army of soldiers they had taken, he was outside in the streets of Grand City helping direct plans of reconstruction. The sun had finally made its way back out and the rain had ceased, allowing for a productive day of rebuilding the city. It was a little past noon when a soldier from Grand City, a messenger in particular, rode through the streets to find the city's King. The workers around Elias parted and went to do other tasks as the messenger strode forward, stopping to bow before delivering his news.

"King Elias," the man started, "I come from the ranks of Madrin Kir's army to deliver news of what is transpiring on the battle field."

"Very well. Come this way," Elias said. Together, the messenger and Elias stepped forth into a house that was half built. It was enough privacy that lingering ears would not attempt to listen to official business. "What is the word?"

The man told Elias about everything had happened - from the fight with the stone golems near Jade City to the ongoing battle with the insects and Meristali at the grove south of Grand City. There was mention of Elysia perishing, but Elias assured the man not to worry. To his own knowledge, had Elysia truly died, Elias would have felt it. Madrin Kir's wound was brought up and to this Elias frowned hoping that the Lord Commander of Eiler would pull through. The messenger asked Elias for more soldiers to help in the situation and Elias agreed to the request.

"There's a captain of mages and healers. His name is Arch Daniels. Tell him I sent you to request that an army of healers and mages make way towards the grove to assist. It seems they may have gone into this battle not quite prepared. And make haste."

"There's one more thing," the messenger said. Elias arched a brow in question. "The magister of Jade City has been killed. There's now a man working as magister. I believe his name is... Japshoot." As if in thought for a brief few moments, the man finally gave a confident nod. "Yes, that's correct. Japshoot."

"Have word sent to Jade City that the only person currently in charge of their city is me," Elias said. "I am not sure who this Japshoot is, but if he had any connection to the magister's sudden death, I don't want him to believe he's secured his position in the city so soon."

The messenger nodded and after bowing, turned from Elias to leave the partially built house. Elias walked out with him and watched as the man lifted himself onto the back of his horse and rode off through the city streets once more. As the rider disappeared through the city streets, Elias only hoped that the reinforcements he issued would make it to the grove in time before more of his most valuable soldiers and men perished.

The lost prince had struggled to expel the force of Soul from his being but when the Corpirian spirit had been destroyed and the energy had arced through his body he had felt the power that combining with his other half could bring him. His seven foot form pushed through the battlefield heavy plate armor clinking as his mace smashed into beetle after beetle. Energy he had never felt before coursed through his muscles giving his already immortal strength a boost.

-I can never repay the debt of what I did to you. But we are stronger together.-
Syvern frowned outwardly a spike of anger at what the arraki had done to him. –I forgive you, for now. It was a true learning experience and I am probably stronger because of it.- His head jerks away from the beetles at a rallying cry behind the Almeddans. The frown deepens and he bounds away from the beetles seeing the Almeddans and those of Grand City about to get pinched between two enemy forces.

He dodges between the trees, some of the Almeddans swing blades at him defensively still not knowing which side he was on. He smacks the swords away with his mace and does not counter-attack, avoiding hurting the men he is trying to protect. In moments he emerges behind them and faces the Corpirian mages and the U’thos sprites, composed of fire.

Obstinata forces energy into a barrier between himself and the death magic as the spells bounce off the field which shimmers a myriad of colors. As the blade protects him the lost prince places his hand on the ground the cold penetrating the metal soaking into his skin, it didn’t bother him but he could feel it. All of the liquid in the air and ground could be felt each snow-flake and fleck of ice seeming to illuminate itself to his mind.

“Niar orbdrin l' chathen, morfeth mina naubol.” In an instant the snow flies up compacting into foot long shafts and flinging themselves upon the sprites, not all would hit, not all would do damage but he had to stop some of them. His one crimson and one blue eye lift to stare at the mages and the seven foot form once again charges toward possible death.

One of the Corpirians lifts a hand just as he swings his five foot long mace in windmill, the weapon itself was relatively simple made of one piece of steel with curved spikes coming just from the top giving it the appearance of an upside down crown at the top. One simple spike stikes out the center at the top, it is this spike that impales the first Corpirian at the solar plexus, and the spike was nearly eight inches long punching out the mages back. The force of the blow shattered the mages ribcage basically ensuring that he would die.

The barrier flickers and a crack forms as Obstinata struggles to maintain enough energy to stop the large amount of spells coming in his direction. –We need help- Syvern grits his teeth and swings his mace at the next mage.

Soul agrees internally and reaches out toward Blend who had disappeared once the fighting started. –I might have messed up helping you but we need some over here and I think you might be better at helping than I was.-

Jade….

Zafiro stared hard at the massive man that was offering assistance for the orphans, he almost laughed at the fact another huge man who would seem a nightmare to most children was offering help. He kept his mouth in a firm line, mulling over what the man was offering and pondering what he had done to the ‘merchant’. Yes the man had seemed inherently evil but he had never killed someone before and a glance at the headless body brought dark thoughts.

He was snapped out of it suddenly by a little girl whimpering behind him, “Okay, but I’ll do to you what I did to him.” He motions to the headless body, “If you break your promise.” His young blue eyes were hard; he had always been in the leader of the orphans back in Grand City and had always been protective. These children weren’t part of that group but he still felt responsible for their well-being.

He steps down from the wagon, “I will get your portal but I need two mages minimum.” His four foot frame made him tiny compared to Acothaein but he showed no fear or hesitation. He still had a reserve bit of magic in his body from the amulet the merchant had enough that he could stop at least one of the Almeddans incase this happened to be a trap to capture and use the young boy.

Soul where are you? He thought his hard exterior hiding the fearful thoughts in his mind, he had felt safe for the four days he’d been with the arraki something he hadn’t felt since becoming an orphan all those years ago. He shakes his head to escape those thoughts and stare up at Acothaein, “Let’s do this, this time I am coming with you.”

Madrin was not pleased that half the Almeddan army was a pack of traitors. Did the idiots even go thru discipline checks or did they take anyone who wanted to kill. He didn't know but, they weren't inspiring faith in the Grand city soldiers. He did enjoy the fact that they were destroying their reputations all by themselves. As death magic arched towards the small army of Eiler warriors and mages an earthen barrier rose from the ground shielding them. The mages on his orders simultaneously strengthened the thirty foot tall wall that is a hundred feet long with protective magic. This effectively blocked the attacks though a few bolts of energy killed several moving trees and soldiers from both currently allied armies.

Suddenly, he heard the battle horn of his Blackwolf clan echo thru the area. Madrin smiled at that it seems they answered his call to arms as allies from Eiler. His people already knew the situation since their village is in the Hyborean Mountains. Scouts had been tracking the Almeddans since they opened the ripping gate. One hundred and fifty tribal fighters led by chief Ranisa Kir herself cut into the surprised Corporins without a shred of mercy. The clan's banner was waving high as white snow became blood red when the tribal soldiers met their foes. Those that fought with him cheered loudly as Madrin returned the earthen barrier to the ground. Now the Spider houses hammer had become soft, as their tactics reversed on them. The spirits of his warriors had changed from desperate to highly motivated. The banner was known in Grand city though he was unaware if the Almeddans knew as well.

On impulse, Madrin started humming a three hundred year old Blackwolf battle hymn that came from the original Kir clan. The melody was haunting, and those that knew it took up the sound when it reached their ears.



The words were few but, the hundreds of resonating voices made a frightening sound, that often caused fear to the unprepared. How he loved that music. Yet only his clan knew the reason behind the words, as they lent conviction to the song. The battle lines had changed however, Madrin headed towards the one who initiated the attack, an Accersan summoner wielding a bloody dagger and fire imps. His first action was throwing a silver infused dagger at the back of his enemies head.

In Jade City:

After agreeing to Zafiro's terms and conditions, the heavy infantry known as Acothaein Fallarbor led Zafiro and Nari towards the eastern wall of Jade City, where the Almeddan garrison was lingering impatiently. Glancing briefly at the others as he walked, Acothaein couldn't help but wonder what they were getting themselves into, and why these locals seemed so eager to join in. He didn't have much time to ponder such thoughts, as they came upon the Almeddan forces. The Almeddan people didn't need any directions - once they saw Zafiro, they began to gather into their various squadrons. Acothaein tilted his head towards several other heavy infantry, the massive figures towering above the other Evincan soldiers. Then he looked to Zafiro.

"Alright, kid, let's do this." Venefican mages had already gathered, more than enough for Zafiro to open the portal, and after a questioning look towards Acothaein, they began channeling their energy into the young man.

As Acothaein watched the energy build up in Zafiro's palms, he felt his unease growing. What were they going to find on the other side of that doorway? Yellow eyes locked on Nari as he spoke. "If I die today.. I'd want you to know, yer the most beautiful pirate I've ever laid eyes on." Yes, he knew she was a pirate - though she didn't do a very good job hiding it, in her proud swagger and defiant attitude. "And if I make it through this.. I'm signin' up for some anarchy and piracy myself. I'm getting too old for these wars."

There was no time for Nari to respond. Zafiro's doorway was opening, the Almeddan squadrons were assembling, and it was time for battle.

--

South of the Grand City, in the grove of trees:

Brod Fallarbor grinned, watching as the Corpirians brought chaos and death to the Almeddan armies. A part of him felt guilt, a deep seated humanity that he was unable to discard, and he glanced briefly towards the corpse of Deverance. They had been friends for years, and Brod felt a pang of remorse seeing the defeated mage, but it was necessary to slay Deverance for any chance at victory. Deverance had been a powerful sorcerer and politician, a creator and collector of artifacts and rare magicks, and so long as the mage lived there would never be a safe place for Corpirians.

Brod hadn't always been a Corpirian. The red cloak he wore wasn't a lie. He was trained as a summoner and spent many years climbing the ranks of House Accerso to become the prominent figure he was in Almedda. It wasn't until his daughter died, eight years ago, that Brod became interested in the study of death.

In Almedda, necromancy was banned outright. Anyone who practiced it was executed. As an Accersan, Brod had a unique understanding of life and death. Accersans were trained to create life, to form and engineer new creatures or to control those that already exist (like the U'thos sprites). In this regard, Accerso was only one step removed from Corpiris. The defining difference was how Corpirians manipulated souls, allowing for rebirth and immortality.. or enslavement.

He would never get his daughter back, if he followed the laws of Almedda and the rules of the Accersan House. As his obsession with death grew stronger, Brod knew eventually what he would need to do. He would need to help the House of Corporis re-establish power, so they could perform the required rituals to bring his beloved offspring back to life.

Even as the Corpirians struggled against their enemies, Brod knew this was the only way. After this battle, Corporis would be feared and respected again. Soon they would return to power as a legitimate House of Almedda. His daughter would have her second chance at a life lost.

Thinking such thoughts, Brod never even felt Madrin Kir's knife as it slammed into his skull, ending his life and all his ambitions.

--

It all came down to this moment, this battle frozen in time and burned forever into memory. Blend strode out of the forests, the sockets of his eyes burning furiously beneath the grim-faced mask of his helmet. Tempesturo's heat surrounded the Champion, embers spiraling around the skeleton as he moved forwards into the battle.

Madrin Kir had done an exceptional job at defending his men. Trees lurched around, protecting the Grand City and Almeddan soldiers with flailing branches and deadly roots, while the U'thos sprites sought to set them ablaze. Among these sprites, some were impaled on spikes of ice, the arraki Soul launching his own attacks against the spiteful demons. Meanwhile, Corpirians sent wave after wave of death magic, but found themselves assaulted with renewed vigor as Madrin Kir's reinforcements arrived, singing a haunting dirge that promised the death Corpirians so clearly desired.

Blend watched with fascination as spirits flitted through the battlefield, unseen by most of the people there. For those who could see them, like Soul and Sharay, the spirits were obviously attacking Madrin Kir's army. Their haunting screams could be heard throughout the battlefield as they struggled with the living, seeking to tear their souls from their warm bodies.

It's amazing how many things can happen in only a few moments. Even as Blend neared Soul, a portal opened up behind the attacking Corpirians and Almeddan troops began pouring out from the doorway, howling war cries as they charged into the Corpirian forces. Among them was Acothaein, Zafiro, and Nari. The former charged through the Corpirians like they were ants, swinging his over-sized sword left and right, cutting his enemies down with a cruel efficiency. His shield whipped out and crushed the skull of a Corpirian on his left, even as the pommel of his sword sent another Corpirian stumbling to the ground. A third Corpirian watched with wide eyes as his death approached in the form of that same bloodied sword, Acothaein becoming a butcher fueled with adrenaline and rage as he moved through the ranks of Corpirians. Behind him were other Evincan soldiers, and behind them were Evincan archers augmented with sorcerers.

By the time Blend had reached Soul, the Corpirians were in a state of panic, their assault fracturing before his very eyes as they were crushed by the two reinforcing armies. Blend wanted a piece of the action.

"Tempesturo, this one's for you," Blend said, his voice without humor. Fire burst from him, wrapping around Soul and Blend and spreading out in an increasingly potent wave. Everything it touched, from flesh to spirit, was consumed and turned to ash. Fire blossomed across the battlefield, a roiling explosion that briefly made the area as bright as Tempesturo's glorious sun. The light flickered out, and with it did the lives of the Corpirians.

Reinforcements from both Jade and the Grand City had arrived. For an eerie moment, the sounds of conflict stopped entirely, followed by an uneasy shuffling as all parties involved looked for their next targets. As one, the mass of beetles that had been consuming Elysia's blood lifted to the air, thin black wings folding from their backs as they buzzed towards the heights of the diamond pillar in the clearing. Here they gathered, swarming around the pinnacle to look down on the gathered armies below, chattering with each-other in their alien tongue.

Still smoldering from the attack he'd unleashed, Blend studied the insects, even as he addressed Soul. "It's nice to see you still alive, my friend. Though, I have to say, there's something different about you." He tilted his head as he motioned towards the insects. "It seems the bugs have changed their loyalties." Blend's skull shifted as he examined the clearing and Meristali's crumpled form. Almeddan soldiers were cautiously approaching her, careful to avoid Sharay. The soldiers weren't taking any chances, as one Evincan drew his sword and slid the cold blade under her jaw and into Meristali's skull. The Spider shuddered involuntarily and was still.

"It looks like this battle is over," Blend muttered. "Excuse me, I've got something that doesn't belong to me." Blend headed towards Sharay, Goddess of Death and Chaos, being careful to avoid stepping on the corpses that littered his route.

--

Near the Ripping Gate, South-West of the Hyperborean Mountains:

An overweight mage stumbled into view, panting heavily as he leaned against a tree. Another figure burst from the trees to his right, wheezing and wiping sweat from his disfigured face. The Ripping Gate was ahead - thank the gods! - and they both shared a victorious grin as they headed towards the Gate.

Whatever ordeal they'd just been through, it was obviously no walk in the park. The Evincan's cloak was nothing more than a few threads hanging from a clasp at his neck, and his scarred arms had a several new cuts and gashes to add to the long list of mutilations that marred him. The waddling mage at his side seemed like he'd just crawled out of a volcano, soot and ash and dirt smudged into every crevice and fold of his gelatinous face. The rain did little to wash away the filth, but the pair seemed unconcerned, their faces transforming into masks of joy as they neared the Ripping Gate. An Evincan outrider approached them, mounted on a black destrier.

The Evincan tilted his head in recognition. "Tarc. Kisser. Nice to see you both made it. Where've you been?"

The obese mage sighed. "Can I tell you later? I'm starving."

The Evincan shrugged. "Captain's orders. We're not to let anyone into the perimeter of the Ripping Gate without confirming their identities."

"You just said I was Tarc, didn't you?" The mage spat. "Identity solved."

Kisser scowled towards his friend, then looked at the Evincan. "After those bugs attacked the Ripping Gate, we had no choice but ter flee. A pack of those ravenous insects chased us for damn near twenty miles. I aint never seen Tarc move so quick. His legs are short, but he's got this funny way 'o running that makes up for it.. Lucky for us, we managed to fool 'em with a little sorcery and some glue, an' here we are."

The Evincan outrider cursed. "You're saying there's more o' those bugs out there?"

Kisser shrugged. "There's always more. Now, can we get some food?"

"Aye. Food's o'er there, south of the new Command Tent."

Tarc and Kisser limped away, their stomachs growling, their cracked lips peeled back in eager smiles. All in all, not a bad ending to a frightening day.

The C'udiskan God of Shadows, Mai'ka, would probably disagree.