The foundation of Aleris - Grand City and its port Hinewai Harbor - had been built close to the ocean. Throughout the years, the city had thrived and flourished by use of this ocean. Trade and life had come by the waves that surrounded the capital of Aleris and no matter if one had drifted in to visit or settle down, Grand City always had a simple and almost unexplainable harmony with its neighboring ocean. However, that peace, the one that many citizens of Grand City enjoyed and knew so well, had been shaken as of late due to storms, tidal waves and sea monsters that lurked beneath the shadowy depths of the ocean.

To say he was surprised to see Aleris' latest threat - another titanic sea beast - looming over the city would have been far from the truth. The city, proud of their recent accomplishment in rebuilding after a prior devastating attack, seemed to be the perfect target for the fates. Fear, destruction, rebuild, recover and start the circle again. Isn't that the way it was as of late? Still, as the gigantic sea beast bellowed and spewed a powerful jet of acid in the direction of the harbor, sinking ports, ships and killing thousands within seconds, something had to be done. Although the people may have been doomed to repeat this same process over again, life would fight back and Aleris as a whole would attempt to strengthen itself once more, constantly tested and tried.

But who? Whose turn was it to save the city when the gods were suddenly quiet? He - Elias Lowell, King of Aleris - had tried to call out to them for some assistance, but like many of the people screaming below him, he received no answer. He waited, perhaps only seconds, and that was far too long. Though the initial attack came upon Hinewai Harbor, he could ill afford to wait for another to come directly on the city itself. Too many had died already. Watching from one of the castle's tower observatories, Elias knew there only one thing he could do.

Elias folded his hands in front of him and closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of terror forming and building around him. He tuned out the sound of buildings falling, of people screaming and a city in well-deserved panic. He needed to concentrate, though the cost of him performing such a spell was not necessarily concentration. What started as a glowing light about his entire body, pale yellow and soft, started to grow. The light pulsated and increased in size, vibrating and humming in response to the ancient magic Elias let flow from his lips. It almost appeared as if the observatory had become some sort of lighthouse. After about a radius of twenty feet from the King of Aleris, the magic stopped completely for all of five seconds and then exploded and pushed itself outward in a flash to surround the entire city and harbor in a protective dome.

The acidic stream was pushed outward and as the shield surrounded the city, the sea monster would be pushed away as well. The shield provided not just a barrier, but outside it, flickers of lightening raced across its exterior, threatening to shock the beast should it not depart at least for some time. The pain and terror did not diminish, but for an unknown amount of time, the city was protected from the threat that badly wanted to break through.

On the top of the observatory tower the source from where this magic had flourished, collapsed onto the floor. Elias, resting his cheek against the cold stone of the floor, wished that he could lift his head to see that his city was protected. He had given his entirety to that spell and as he closed his eyes, his last thoughts were of hope. His life force faded and the spell remained, which was, an unusual magic to say the least.

And after countless years, Aleris' line of kings, finally ceased.

Damn this cursed ship, Captain Lawrence Cross (also known as Cyrus Rose) thought as they came closer and closer to Lapis Cove.

A cure for people was never simple to find. He should have known when he offered to put his life at risk to save the sick and dying. There would be death and destruction in return for finding an answer. For knowledge, in all its wonder and necessity, came at a cost. And who was to say that they would find the answer they were seeking when they got to Lapis Cove? There was no guarantee, especially not now when the ship and all of its crew, whether they were infected or not, were under the watchful and strong eye of the old man they had let on board - Brahngier Thaemana.

Lawrence watched as this mutiny went on, as his ship was seized and as a captain, he was unable to do anything about it. Like many others aboard the Jade Phoenix, he cursed and prayed silently under his breath. How curious it was that they were on a ship named after a creature of rebirth when all anyone saw around them was death. The deck was soaked and slicked with blood and the waters that surrounded them, littered with bodies, was no better. Since there was no clear sign of redemption or savior in sight, Captain Lawrence Cross had to attempt something. Despite the overwhelming evidence that they were certainly doomed and any attempt to sway that path would be promptly squashed, he had to offer a last stand and hope that in his efforts, wherever they led, would provide some openings for the rest of the crew.

Those on board had already seen that blades or guns did not work against Brahngier. Though Brahngier originally showed himself to be a weak and begging old man, he was nothing of the sort. But what about something like fire? Cyrus was not a magical person in the slightest, but he was near enough to a source of fire that he could perhaps use. As one man was ripped apart for ansking questions, Lawrence seized the distraction and reached up to grab a lantern from a hook. He pushed through the crowd of terrified crew and without second thought, threw the lantern with as much force as he could muster towards Brahngier. It hit its mark, glass broke and lantern oil spilled over the Brahngier as well as on deck. Fire from the lantern grew and tried to consume the oil soaked targets. Lawrence had no time to see if his efforts had been useless or not.

He was descended upon by the infected crew - sailors and merchants that he once knew, even though he had been in disguise on this whole mission. Lawrence, in the struggle, reached for his sword and was able to dispatch maybe one or two of the men, but their strength, unleashed and primal, was beyond him. As they began an attempt to rip him apart from limb to limb, Lawrence's blue eyes searched to the left and right of him, praying that Brahngier was burning up and that he would be promptly shipped back off to the Hell from which he came.

Then, in a last effort, Lawrence wrenched an arm free, reached for the pistol that was attached to his waist and shot himself in his temple right before he was, like the other sailor before him, ripped to unidentifiable pieces and eaten alive.

Zaur scented the fresh blood immediately when he opened the door, violence was everywhere before him. Blood splattered the halls that where clean when he entered into his ritual of summoning. What he thought had only been a few minutes must have taken a lot longer than he thought. Messing with unpracticed spells always had unexpected consequences. Praise the five powers that his mind was calmed from the raging beast that slept in his racial memory for the time being.

The unmistakable wet smack of dismembering a fresh kill echoed nearby. In the City of the Magi where he was born the great lizards that walked the land surrounding it made that sound as they killed each other in the name of survival. To know that dangerous noise was a matter of self preservation. The therianthrope warrior was truly appalled to see ten crazed humans tearing apart the remains of several corpses.

"What by the five powers do you think you are doing?" The insane humans all raised up from their bloody exploits like a pack raptors. Zaur suddenly got the impression that the predators he saw were only bateing a trap, and more remained hidden somewhere. The look in their eyes sent the sensation of being hunted thru him like a razor sharp tooth. The trained guardian drew his twin hand axes with the smooth motion of long practice. "Answer me!"

They began to form a half circle in the space of the galley where they had committed their slaughter while making guttural growls like some kind of animal the lizard Magi had never heard before. Four more foes grabbed a hold of Zaur from behind making movement impossible. Their strength far outweighed their size. The guardian struggled with all his might but couldn't budge any of his assailants. He knew he had mere seconds before he joined the pile of bodies so spells were simply not fast enough.

In a heartbeat, his skin began to harden as his body hair fell away. His muscle mass increased as he grew in size. Then his grapplers could not keep hold of him as his muzzle elongated and numerous pristine white teeth meant for ripping apart flesh sprouted. The enemy wasted no time in pouncing on his larger form that was meant for battle. A few broke their teeth on his armored hide but their physical power was still great enough for him to feel the attempts to tear his limbs off.

He shouted in his deep gravely voice with anger that was lost on the monstrous humans surrounding him. "I am not prey!" A few words in his native tongue followed which turned his body into an temporary electrical generator. The eight foes that held him fast suddenly suffered enough voltage to cause instant heart failure. Zaur roared in pain as his body suffered severe burns from his own spell effect. If he were in his human skin he would not have survived the trauma. He had to remain in his war form for an entire day or risk sudden death.

Six opponents remained unfazed by watching their fellows drop dead with a few words. Truly these humans were beyond sanity as they rushed forward seeing the opening left by the failure of the others. Zaur wielded his axes with brutal efficiency destroying the remaining enemies. The shifter was breathing heavily surveying the red splashed boards as he looked for other attackers. Then the gun shot rang above and protective instinct reminded him that he left Rahne and the others on deck. Zaur was burned and bruised, but a guardian's duty was never done. He moved as quickly as possible cutting his way to the surface praying silently that there were still lives left to save.

All The Power, All The Abilities And Traits That Came With Being What He Was And Yet He Still Felt Like A Spectator In His Own Life. First To Meet Up With Sharay, A Woman And A Friend He Cared For More Than He Let On. It Had Been A Difficult Time For Him And The Land He Agreed To Protect So To See Her Was A Welcome Reprieve. She Was Familiar And Familiar Was Comforting. Then She Kissed Him Without Any Notice Or Expectation. Instantly He Wanted To Lose Himself In It -- He Wanted Not To Think Or Remember, Even If Only For A Little While. Then The Voice Came From The Pendant Around His Neck Disrupting The Moment. The Goddess Eased From Him And Before He Could Breathe A Word She Was Vanishing From Sight.

For A Time He Stood There Silently, Eying The Space Where The Goddess' Portal Had Been. The Frustration Played Across His Features, But After A Minute Or So Of Being Still As A Statue He Touched His Right Hand To The Pendant And Spoke.

"This is Valorius. I will be there shortly."

The Elites As Well As The Protectorate Had Certain Terms And Expressions Used When There Was A Threat. To Say Anything Outside Of Such Terms Meant That Whatever The Issue Was, It Was Not An Aggressive One. He Assumed It Was Probably Thieves Again Trying To Steal Supplies From The Camp Again Or Other Such Issue. Either Way He Had A Duty To See To And Nothing, No Matter How Badly He Wanted To Dismiss The Call, Would Keep Him From The Duty He Had Promised To Do. His Word Was All He Had Left.

He Made Way For The Nearest Rift Gate Which Would Take Him To The Camp When Again His Pendant Took On A Crimson Glow. Another Voice Came Through, Difficult To Make Out From The Backing Sounds Of Screaming And Chaos

"This is second section! Drybrush is under ATTACK! There are multiple sources! The entire city is RED LINED! We need support IMMEDIATELY!"

A True Threat Report, It Instantly Forced Away All The Introspection And Frustration Bringing The Bel Telal Back And Pushing The Angry Young Man Aside. His Head Turned Left And Right Until The Energy Signature Of Drybrush Became More Distinct. How Had He Been So Careless? Lost In His Own Mind He Hadn't Even Noticed What Was Happening In The Distance. Touching His Hand Again To The Pendant He Walked With Purpose In The Direction Of The City. Had The Mass Of Sick In Al'Sir Made Its Way To Drybrush? How Had They Moved So Fast? His Tone Was Much More Methodical When He Spoke That Second Time.

"This is Valorius. Second section, report detail! What is happening there?...

Nothing. No Response.

"Second section! Report! What is your status?!

Again For A Lingering While There Was No Response, Then The Pendant Slowly Began To Brighten. The Sound Of Anarchy Came Through First. Muffled Voices, Shouting, The Echo Of Potential Explosions. Finally A Voice Came Through The Chaos.

"Commander! This is Tirov! The city is COLLAPSING sir! It started fast and now buildings are just FALLING INTO the sand! There's salt water EVERYWHERE and people are being taken! We have an uncounted number of hostiles! They are so damn fast! The walls around the city have us boxed in sir! We need SUPPORT! We NEED..."

Tirov's Voice Went Silent As Did All Other Sounds. Valorius Tried In Vain To Get Another Response But There Was None. The Pendants Worked Through A Form Of Blood Magic. If The Wearer Had Their Blood In It The Stone Would Respond To Their Touch And Contact Anyone Whom The Wearer Thought Of (Assuming Said Person Had A Pendant As Well). Either Tirov Could No Longer Touch The Pendant Or Focus Enough To Think Of A Contact. So The Next Time Valorius' Hand Gripped The Stone He Thought Of The ENTIRE Protectorate, Elites And Non-Elites Alike. Stalking In The Direction Of Drybrush His Gloved Left Hand Gripped His Keffiyeh To Raise Over His Face And He Gave One Final Command To Every Single Being Who Carried A The Same Pendant.

"All available guard this is the Bel Telal. Drybrush is red lined! Repeat, Drybrush is Red LINED! All hands report to the capital for immediate purge! Al`Sir was the first and last to fall. We will NOT lose the CITY!"

Taking His Hand Away He Fitted His Neck-Scarf Over His Nose And Was About To Race For The Continental Capital When A Sudden Discharge Of Energy Came From Far North, Across The Sea. It Was A Concentrated Release That Was More Than Enough To Capture Valorius Attention. Energy Had A Signature, Positive And Negative, And What He Felt Was Very Positive. Someone Had Used Magic -- But Who And Exactly Where Was Unknown. The Prince Wasn't Close Enough Have Those Details. Whatever The Source Was It Faded Away But The Energy Itself Remained. A Last Stand Perhaps? Whoever Or Wherever It Came From Was No Longer Present Which Meant They Either Disappeared Or Fell. Valorius' Eyes Steeled As He Knew He Didn't Have Time To Be Curious.

"We will not fade."

It Was The Last Words He Spoke Before His Right Hand Came To Grip The Top Of His Hat, And Then The Sound Of Air Being Cut Through As He Concentrated A Significant Amount Of Energy To His Legs And Throughout His Body Before Disappearing In A Superhuman Sprint Towards The Closest Rift That Would Take Him To Drybrush.


==============================================


Back Within The Protectorate Camp All Pendants Ignited As The Bel Telal's Voice Was Heard. They Had All Heard Tirov's Plea, And Now They Were Being Called To Action. There Were No Questions, No Looks Of Confusion. Even Mariska And Her Attempting To Leave Had Been Put Aside For An Order Given By The Commander. It All Happened Fast And Flawless As If Such A Thing Had Been Done And Practiced Enough To Be Routine. Soldiers Making Way For The Armory, Weapons Being Distributed Without Any Need To Ask What A Soldier's Specialty Was. Armor And Combat Dress Were Always Worn By The Elites But Those Soldiers Who Were Off Patrol Could Be Seen Racing And Dressing At The Same Time. The Camp Was Alive With Movement While Alice Looked To Mariska. The Woman's Once Uncertain And Worried Face Became Much More Stern As She Grabbed The Shroud Of Her Coat, The Coat All Elites Wore, And Brought It Over Her Head.

"I would ask you to stay behind but..."

Alice Knew The Woman, Knew Her Character. She Said Nothing More About The Matter And Proceeded To Move To The Back Of The Tent. Grabbing A Spare Elite Battle Jacket (A Shin Length Coat Made Of A Thin Black Material That Was Heavier In Weight Than It Appeared, The Interior Was Lined With Shimmering Threads That Looked To Be Made Of Some Metallic Fiber) She Tossed It To The Now Acting Padishah.

"You remember us, Mariska. What the shroud means to us. I know you will bring pride to it...as Tyler did."

No Further Words Were Spoken As Alice Headed Out Of The Tent And Saw The Elites Having Already Massed Together. While Other Soldiers Readied And Prepared To Make Way, The Elites Simply Awaited Their 2nd In Command. When The Woman Exited With Mariska By Her Side A Sea Of Shroud Covered Eyes Looked Briefly In Her Direction. There Was No Malice Or Doubt Felt. If She Wore The Shroud She Was Every Bit As One Of Them As Alice Was. Valorius' Had Already Given The Order Thus There Was No Need For Another, Alice Simply Turned And Headed For The Rift Gate That Stood In The Camp. Like A Choreographed Gathering The Elites All Fell Into An Immediate Procession With Both Alice And Mariska At The Head. The Gate Would Lead To The Interior Gate Of Drybrush Just Inside The Wall That Surrounded The City. It Would Exit Roughly 150 Yards From The City Itself With A Multi-Story Wall Behind It. As They Came Ever Closer And The Gate Surged To Crackling, Magical Life Alice Called Out Without Turning Back.

"Elites! Combat procedure! When through the gate there will be no defensive lines! Our objective is a full purge of Drybrush. All hostiles are to be removed and all non-combatants are to be taken from the conflict! No matter what, we do NOT surrender the city! From the first!!!..."

From Behind Them A Chorus Of Voices Shouted As One "TO THE LAST!!"

The Sound Of Metal On Metal Came As Blades Loaded On Slides Fell From The Sleeves Of Each Battle Jacket. They Were Built Into The Sleeves Of The Battle Jacket And Fell When A Trigger In The Wrists Was Pulled (Which Explained The Additional Weight Of The Coat). 24 Inches In Length With A Fine Edge On Both Sides They Were The Primary Offensive Weapon Of The Elites. Mariska's Coat Carried Them As Well And Alice Didn't Feel The Woman Needed Any Explanation On How They Worked. At The Last Moment Before They Stepped Through, Mariska Would Hear A Whisper From Alice So Faint That It Might Have Gone Unheard.

"I am glad you are with us."

She’d been pacing a hole in the ground since the moment Alice had sent word to Valorius that there was an urgent matter at camp that needed his attention. A summons he was taking his sweet time responding to, a fact that only served to ratchet up the anxiety the impending encounter was already causing her. Every time a member of the Elite Guard entered the tent and recognized her their eyes shot to Alice who would simply nod, as if to say she knew and it was being handled. Word was spreading through the camp; it must have, because suddenly more and more of the Elite guard had a reason to be in that tent.

Mordant and Arthur did not move from her side, particularly Mordant. They were loyal to her and she knew they would do whatever she asked of them, but expecting them to fight off the Elite’s so she could use the rift gates without Alice stopping her would only result in their deaths. Even so, she was on the verge of informing Alice she was going to see to her duties and Valorius could come find her when he managed to find the time but just as her lips parted the pendants every Elite soldier wore lit up and a cracked voice began shouting a warning.

Drybrush was falling.

All around her the Elite’s snapped to attention, the novelty of seeing their commanders presumed dead lover back in the living flesh was forgotten. It was no less the case for her. All her nerves only facing Valorius again were forgotten in an instant and any observing her would see the change instantly, the way her shoulders straightened, her head rising, her entire body taking on a demeanor of command. Feeling Alice’s eyes upon her she glanced to the woman just as she begin to state she would ask Mariska to stay behind, but…it was the “but” that had a soft smirk touching to her lips. Alice new better than to ask such a thing. Until further notice she was the Padishah of Heruin and, though new to the job, she would do her best to defend it. Even if she wasn’t off to the best start.

All around her the Elite’s were preparing, the hoods of their shrouds lowering to conceal their faces. And then Alice approached with yet another of the unique shrouded coats in hand. For a split second she considered refusing the jacket, knowing that it was something special for the Elite soldiers, and it was for that reason that she ultimately took the coat from Alice’s fingers and began shrugging into it. To have it offered was a high honor indeed and she would not shun the gesture when she was about to be fighting, and possibly dying, at their sides.

She emerged from the command tent at Alice’s side, Mordant and Arthur falling in with the other Elite’s behind her as they moved as one towards the rift gate that would transport them to the besieged Drybrush. As they neared it the gate flared to life and Alice began shouting orders to the horde of Elite’s at their back. Though she had never joined their ranks she had trained with them, with Valorius, occasionally during their time together and she knew just what they were capable of. She could not have asked for a better group of fighters to have at her back. If there was any hope for Drybrush it would be because they were there.

Stopping before the gate she paused long enough to reach up and lower the shroud of the coat, concealing her features. Not only would she no doubt appreciate the protection the special material provided but it would also hide her identity as well. Yes, she would have to face Valorius, but in the midst of a fight was not the time to drop this particular bomb on him. Something Alice had no doubt considered when she’d offered the shroud to Mariska. At the last minute before stepping through she heard Alice’s whispered words stating she was glad that Mariska was with them. Dark eyes glanced to the woman though her face was no longer visible and from behind the mask she would hear a soft reply.

”So am I.”

Then they were moving into the portal, the familiar drawing sensation tugging at her as the magic that allowed such travel to be possible pulsed around them. When they emerged from the rift gate it was only to step into what could only be described as Hell on Earth. Or rather, Hell on Heruin. It was instant chaos. As Alice had stated there were no defensive lines, no definitive place to enter the fray. All around them was death and destruction.

The sight of the carnage did nothing to stop her from plunging into the mass of combatants at Alice’s side, however. Though the shroud held a blade that she was well familiar with it was her own sword she drew from the scabbard at her hip as she moved into the fight with the preternatural speed she had gained from touching Mordant earlier in the day. She could only pray that it held throughout the battle.

The ground was littered with the dead and dying, the terrified screams of the innocent citizens of Heruin mingling with the sounds of combat. She could do nothing for the dead but she could still fight to save those who yet lived. A terrified woman stumbled into her, clutching at her arms before Mariska could push her towards the gate behind them, shouting at her through the shroud to run for it, to get to safety. That was all she could say to the woman before shoving her behind her towards he gate before she was forced to turn and face the diseased creatures that were chasing her.

The sound of singing metal announced the unsheathing of her sword, its sharpened end finding a home in the chest of the first creature to reach her. No time to stop and think about what was happening, or who or what she was killing, as there were more to kill almost immediately. The shining blade of the Vereticus Sword was soon darkened with blood and gore as she cut and slashed her way through the infected hordes, her black eyes fixed on the sink pools several feet ahead and the creatures that would appear from them only to carry off unsuspecting innocents. That was her destination and she cut down ruthlessly anything that stood in her way.

She’d lost track of Alice long ago, the female leader becoming just another soldier in the melee, her coat and shroud rendering her anonymous as was the coats intention. She had no time to worry about where Alice was or how she fared but, in spite of the fight raging around her, she still kept an eye out for the figure she had been waiting a long time to see. There was no time to flat out search for him, but she kept hoping she would catch a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye. Perhaps it was this that allowed her to see the attack coming from her right just outside of her normal line of sight. A faint “snick” was heard as the spring loaded blade concealed within the arm of the coat was deployed and raised to counter the attack, the knife cutting cleanly through the throat of what once was a man before it had a chance to grab hold of her.

Finally the way to the sinkhole nearest her was clear and her dark eyes turned to fix on it just as one of the sea creatures crawled forth from its depths in search of another victim. Not bloody likely she thought as she broke into a dead run heading straight for the taller being. Though she was fast, faster than the average human, she was still slower than a vampire would have, should have, been. It was starting to fade, her last “dose” of preternatural strength slowly draining from her. It didn’t matter though, she had to stand, had to fight, even if it was only with a human’s strength and, as she began to bear down on the large sea creature heading for a screaming woman she only prayed she had enough left to get the job done.

He had the woman nearly in his grasp but at the last minute she was able to throw herself between them, physically blocking the creature’s attempts at abduction, the sleeve blade rising to slice at the hand that tried to grab her. The creature lost several fingers as a result but it wasn’t enough to slow him down. In fact, it just made him angry. He attacked and she was just able to defend but she could feel herself weakening. Her right foot lashed out in a front kick designed to give her some space from her opponent. Moving quickly she snatched the glove off of her right hand to reveal the intricate gray celtic knot work etched into her skin, dark eyes glancing around as if seeking a source of power. For the briefest of moments she considered touching the creature trying to kill her but common sense stayed her hand.

But there was no one else so when the creature attacked she fought with all her flagging strength, a burst of anger giving her a rush of energy. She had come this far to see him, was so close to her goal, she wasn’t about to be denied by this sodding goldfish! Somehow she would find a way to survive until the end.

She always did.

Emotional responses were always the most easy to predict. A ship taken, a crew lost, the safety of those who remained an uncertain thing, what was a good captain to do? To be quite honest it had taken longer than Brahngier expected for Captain Cross to play his hand. A shout, a lantern thrown, and then fire. All consuming fire.

There were no screams from the new 'captain' of the ship, just his person immediately being engulfed. Being who he was and existing as long as he had meant there had been oh so many attempts made on his life. Fire was one of the most popular next to the blade, and while it did not burn his flesh as Cross may have hoped the sensation, the feeling of being burned alive was something he most certainly felt. Such a gift it was, to be nearly beyond death yet to still feel every twinge of pain that came with it. It took several moments for the aggression and anger Cross used to throw the lantern to turn the flames into power. Those who saw an opportunity to escape began to leap over the rail of the ship only to be met by whatever was waiting in the water below. Bodies of those who tried to escape could be seen coming to bob on the surface as the ship continued its forward course. The attempts to flee did not last long.

Despite the agony of being set ablaze, Brahn moved towards where Cross had been circled and descended upon. He watched behind the fire as the Captain struck down one, then another, fighting til the last moment. Slowly the fires appeared to be drawn down into the powerful frame they raged on, all clothing burned away leaving only a nude yet unharmed form. If the fire had done anything, with the sudden tension and depth seen in every muscle along his physique it appeared they only made him stronger. For a fleeting moment his eyes met the Captain's and Brahngier paused. Even as Cross reached out for a pistol he made no effort to stop him.

Then the trigger was pulled.

As the body fell to the deck the remaining crew looked horrified while the infected began to grab at the lifeless body. However, Brahngier let out a vicious yell that caused the sickened crew members to quickly back away and once more take their motionless, almost mindless stances. He moved to where Cross' body lay and looked down upon it with an expression that bordered on regret. Reaching down with 1 powerful hand he took the dead man by the front of his shirt and lifted him from the deck with the ease one might raise a child. From there he moved to the wheel of the ship with the body held upright in his hand, and placed the body standing with its lifeless arms rested against the wheel to hold it upright. He took care in positioning the corpse, not caring as blood and tissue fell upon his skin while he did so. Once he was satisfied with the placement he used his right hand to bring the former Captain's eyelids down and spoke softly; "Such a will deserved a better end. Embrace the freedom, and know my envy is with you."

A short time later...

Lapis Cove was a short distance away and with it drawing ever closer the true extend of what had befallen the island came into focus. Bodies in varied states of decay swayed back and forth with the tide while ships that had been far too damaged to sail were seen bumping into one another at the dock, or even wrecked on the shore itself. Smoke from various points further inward on the island revealed many fires, the smoke ranging from night black to cloud white showing that while some still burned, others were nearly burned completely out.

Seeing such a sight it was normally the time a villain would boast. Perhaps make some comment of superiority or just a simple approval of a job well done. If anything his face (for those who might have been able to see it) showed something akin to displeasure, dissatisfaction. Perhaps even a touch of sorrow in the eyes. The Jade Phoenix had been slowing ever since the island came in to view, and now it was pulled along at a crawl so as to not strike the shore too harshly. The state of the island was nearly identical to when he'd left, the only difference being that there were now more bodies waiting to be claimed by the sea. It wasn't until Deanna's screams came that he even moved, and when he glanced over his shoulder to find where the anguish was coming from he could smell the scent of scalded flesh.

Immediately he turned from the bow and began to make his way toward her. Whatever he had planned on doing was not to be known as suddenly he stopped and his head turned quickly to the right. Perhaps others would feel it or perhaps not, but he did. The sacrifice. It was a power that shadowed most others and it was something he had many years to know by sensation alone. The willful forfeit of life to save the life of another was as opposite to the nature of true war as peace itself. His eyes stayed on the horizon to the east as he felt a life dwindling, a light fading. For the briefest second his features began to shift and it looked as though a smile may come, but it was then that the ship lurched forward slightly.

They had made it to Lapis Cove.

By that time he had found new attire, a pair of faded old shipmans slacks and a rag tied upon his head to keep his lengthened hair from moving about his face. He had no issue with nudity, clothed or unclothed it made no difference. The cultures of this world though showed most wore clothing and it was always in his nature to adapt to the land he found himself in, but his assimilation of such social normalcy ended there. He was among them but he was not one of them, nor would he ever be. To be quite honest he could not really remember his own world clearly anymore. It was lost among an endless number of lands and people, cultures and battles. All that was clear was the drive, the need to do what it was in his nature to do. Whatever life he might have had was given away long ago in the name of a much higher purpose. A purpose that he was once more to fulfill.

A sound was heard as if something was clawing at the outside of the ship, it came from all sides until many sets of solid black eyes peeked over the railing from the outside. The sea dwellers had done as instructed and now they had come for what was owed them. They wanted their home back. A home stolen generations ago by those who lived on land. Having it returned was the only reason they, and their ancestor the Tide King had agreed to work under Brahngier's instruction. The only issue was that the man whom they agreed to follow had no desire for the world itself. His goal had never been to rule or return anything to anyone, it had been to filter the weak from the strong and to leave the world for those who were strong enough to inherit it, those who were strong enough to survive. Now that the world was being attacked on all fronts, the illness had been spreading for months, such assistance had gone as far as was possible. In short, he no longer had need of the Ocean people or their 'God'. They were now every bit as part of the grand test as those on the ship.

Brahngier looked around the ship to each pair of black eyes, then to those who were still healthy and on board the phoenix. Deanna, Wish, 'Brock', the one that carried the scent of blood and reptile who thought themselves stealthy, and the remaining crew. His eyes looked inquisitive, as if he was weighing something in his mind. Whatever he pondered over he must have reached a conclusion because he was soon speaking.

"I had hoped there would be more here to address, but, at times it is not the number present but the measure of their will to fight. Two leaders have fallen today..and in the wake of their death it is left to you, those who they served, to win back your world. Fortunately I am amongst many who have killed before so you should be more than able to handle yourselves. Those who are not..it was your decision to come aboard this ship, so you are here til the end. If you wish to take back your world, to cure the sickness, to avenge those who have fallen...you will find all you are looking for in the center of the island. A cure, a reason, salvation. As of this moment..you are all on equal ground. And as for those who have endured all the death upon this voyage...a parting gift."

Turning to regard only the creatures who peered over the outside of the ship rails, he narrowed his eyes. "They are no longer unseen. They are now in the struggle. Test their want of this world." No sooner had the words left his lips than the infected crew suddenly 'snapped to attention'. Their eyes immediately focused on the creatures outside the ship and quickly they began sprinting, diving overboard and taking the sea dwellers with them. As the infected began to fight with the ocean people, Brahngier turned to the remaining crew as he walked backwards towards the bow of the ship.

"My blood will hide you from those infected, and there is much of it still on this ship for you to use. Avoid getting any in an open wound or anywhere else that may usher it into your blood or wind up like them. I will be waiting at the center of the island. You want answers, you want to save this world and go home...I promise you that all these things will be waiting for you there.. reaching the bow and placing his hands back on it, he sighed. "There will be many obstacles in your way. The sick, the ocean dwellers, and even those looking for help can be the end of you. No matter what your objective, your purpose is to save this world. Do not forget that. The sooner this is done, the sooner you can tend to those you might care for." His eyes looked upon Deanna for a brief moment, then to her pendant before he inclined his head. "I do hope you make it. Someone...has to make it."

With that he pushed the drop ladder over the side so that those who still wished to save their world could climb down to the beach and start their journey inward. As the ladder fell so too did he purposely fall back over the side and down into the water. Wherever he may have ended up was unknown due to how he never came above the surface of the ocean. In the water there was conflict all around, the sick were fighting with those of the sea and already crewmen were pushing each other aside to climb off the ship and get away from all the death. Just beyond the beach there was a tree line with a wide path that led further inland. The shouts of infected could be heard in the distance from many different locations across Lapis Cove. But somewhere, amongst the trees, a voice called out to the ship from an unseen source;

"ANYONE ALIVE OUT THERE?! COME THIS WAY!"

THE STATE OF THE WORLD

The entirety of Aleris was now fighting a battle on 2 fronts. The infection which had already spread to every corner of the globe, and now the battle being waged between those who came from the sea and those who claimed to own the land. Each battle had its share of soldiers and heroes but there would always be those who gave all that was in them to give just to keep hope alive one more day. They would be remembered as legends.

The harbor which once brought the bounty of the sea to Grand City lay in ruin, and the creature which brought about its destruction had every intent of moving onward to the city itself. The King of the realm however had found a way to save his people, albeit at the loss of himself. The barrier he created was formed of magic but strengthened in the resold of its caster, and while the massive sea beast had size and power as its weapons, they were useless against that which defied physical law. A primal mind kept the creature attacking the barrier, over and over it collided with the magical shield until the electrical attacks that continued to strike its massive frame began to do damage. It took many blasts for harm to register, but soon there was dark blood running from over a hundred different areas of its body. Like any creature its fury was only as potent as what it was trying to achieve. It withdrew from the barrier but did not completely depart, its gigantic form swimming within the waters as if waiting for an opportunity to break through the shield.

That was until something caused it to completely disappear beneath the waves. For whatever reason the attacks ended as quickly as they began and once more the water was still. Those who survived waited in silence for a time until they believed it was safe to come out, and when they did it was not to run or to crawl over their fellow people to safety, it was to help those in need. So many battles, so many struggles, those who had lived through those past conflicts were now doing all they could to save others. Perhaps there was there was still some world left to save.

~~~~~~~~~

Far from Grand City in the desert continent of Heruin the collapse of Drybrush was under way. Perhaps more of the city would have been taken by the sands but the response of the soldiers who fought for it hadn't been expected to happen so fast. As buildings fell, and the towns people ran through the dust and chaos in an attempt to find safe haven they were thankful to see the black coated soldiers who fought for them. One by one civilians were led to the outskirts of the city while the conflict continued to rage throughout Drybrush. The massive exterior wall prevented immediate escape for the time being, and there was no way to know how long it would be before the entire city disappeared beneath the sands.

The damage was extensive and the battle raged on, but at least now the desert had a fighting chance.

However slim it might be.

~~~~~~~~~

To the north in the ice coated continent of Arthuran the struggle was no different, only the battlefield. The Lady of Bariston found herself caught in a struggle that went far beyond her, her former love, and her former hand maiden. It was not a war of domination or subjugation they were fighting, nor where they battling an enemy who wanted to rule over them. They were fighting extinction. Genocide was the only desire of their enemy, and nothing short of the complete destruction of those who lived on land would be enough.

As people armed themselves as best they could their enemy had no use for weapons. Infected citizens ran through the streets, those who sought only to kill and those who sought the most primal level of sexual gratification. Men and women were dragged away by infected, and it was the lucky ones who were killed. The others, their suffering had only just begun as they were sexually brutalized while watching their world die around them. The guards fought and the people searched for safety, but with the cold and the insanity happening all around it was difficult to wage a full on defense.

From beneath the ice the creatures birthed of the sea continued to strike and run, seeming less inclined for a direct conflict and more wanting to engage in smaller attacks to pick off stragglers or those too wounded to defend themselves.

The sea was their native world and to be out of the water for too long made them weak, perhaps such a thing could be used to the soldiers advantage.

~~~~~~~~~

In Bariston there was far less organization. With the Lady herself not around there was only the guardian body itself to oversee things. Handling the sickness throughout Elved took up much of the resources so that left the township itself weakened. Holes of varying size appeared all throughout the city, and it was impossible to know how many actually died before the first screams came forward. By the time the guards had a chance to react they were already out numbered by their enemy. Not only the creatures who came from below but also the infected who had been forced upward through the newly made pits.

The only thing that worked in the favor of the people was that suddenly the 2 attacking forces who had appeared to be oblivious of one another began to go after each other. The creatures with their black eyes and poisonous wrist spikes were caught off guard when the infected began to come after them with all the rage and need to kill they could muster.

It may just be the opening the people of Bariston needed. With their Lady off fighting for her life in another continent it would be up to the soldiers of Bariston alone to save their city.

Dressed and clean once more, Verial looked at himself in the mirror as he rubbed a towel over wet, raven colored hair. Behind him, bath water that was black and dirty slowly drained leaving a rim of filth behind. When he mentioned to Layla he needed to excuse himself for some much needed cleaning, that was far from a lie, though it was convenient to not be in the presence of the Lady of Bariston. His eyes caught sight of himself and the crack in the mirror, a jagged streak much like the cut along his one eyebrow - both of which Deanna had left him with - a constant reminder of her departure.

Since his collapse in the Solar earlier, Verial did not hear any additional monstrous roars from out of nowhere. He could only hope that whatever had caused him to hear such a loud shriek, was over and that Deanna was not affected. Still, there was a nagging, dull ache on the spot where Verial had given Deanna one of his scales. At times, he wished that he was able to pray to something - anything - that she was safe and that also... the child she carried with her was unharmed. It was enough to drive him nearly mad knowing that she was far away and that her safety might be jeopardized.

Although it pained him to think of Deanna and he wanted to free himself from those thoughts, his attention was unexpectedly moved to something else in the room. Thanks to his sensitive hearing, Verial heard the sound before it was too late. The water that had been previously draining in the bath, suddenly stopped and from the mirror, Verial could see the dark water was about three inches deep. He was not quite sure how it had happened, but the water then started to form and materialize. At first, Verial thought it was the shape of a man as it was about as tall as him, but as water dripped away, a fish-like creature was presented. The fact that this thing came from his bath water immediately set Verial into defensive mode, but also, the creature was brandishing talons and needle-like barbs that sprouted from beneath its wrists.

Merfolk, and pissed off at that, Verial thought for a split second before the creature lunged from the bath, springing over the edge of tub with speed and grace that Verial couldn't match. Well, almost.

The whole thing happened in a matter of seconds. Because he had been alert and aware of what was going on behind him (more so than the rest of Chaliceton), Verial had just enough time to dive out of the way and roll to a tumble to the other section of his bedroom as the merfolk crashed into the mirror, splintering the rest of it. Verial heard glass crash to the floor and the creature let out a disappointed shriek as Verial got back to his feet quickly and with a search, tried to locate his sword. He knew his chance was brief before the merfolk came after him, so he tried to flick back through his mind of where he had left it.

The desk.

Suddenly, the desk was about five feet too far away. Verial made a dash for the sword across his room and in his pursuit, the merfolk that had been in his bathroom took a dive towards Verial's back. The creature grappled Verial and clung to him. Verial could hear those barbs being branded, cutting through the air as they came back down and towards him. He had already been poisoned once by a werewolf and wasn't in the mood to have that done to him again. Close to a wall and bookshelf, Verial used the hold to his advantage and slammed his back against it repeatedly, making sure the creature felt the strength of it until it would let go. Books toppled down over them, Verial managing to avoid some books from hitting him in the struggle.

Finally, the creature released its hold, letting out what Verial hoped was a wounded cry. He did not glance behind himself to check. His priority now was to grab his sword, so he moved across the room and snatched it off his desk all before the merfolk could get up and advance once more. With blade in hand, Verial swung at the merfolk who did not expect the sudden weaponry in its third attack and sliced through the deadly barbs. Black liquid poured from holes at the creature's wrists. Verial didn't give it a second thought as his sword came up and sliced through the creature’s neck, severing its head as more dark blood pooled on the floor. Verial took a step back from the blood, not wishing to step in something so vile, especially since he was barefoot.

What was a merfolk ever doing coming out of his bath water? He would have investigated more, but in the time he had that one question, he picked up on the sound of screaming and shouting throughout the town. They were under attack. The merfolk that had wanted to kill him was now ruled out as an assassination attempt. The entire city was under siege from these creatures. Hastily, Verial grabbed socks and his boots, pulling them on as he kept a cautious eye on the merfolk corpse in his room, considering the possibility it might get up and have at him again. But this was the least of his worries when he again heard water forming and dripping to the floor from his bathroom. Three times. There were at least three other merfolk and he was not sticking around to fight such stealthy creatures on his own, not when the rest of Chaliceton was in equal peril.

Verial grabbed his sword and a pair of daggers, hooking them on his belt as he left his room, managing to shut the doors behind him thinking it might slow the merfolk down just a tiny bit. At first, there were no clear signs of a fight, but as Verial dashed down the hallway and the main stairs of the Northsea Manor, his sword ready should anything jump out at him, scenes of struggle became frequent. Below him, halfway through his descent down the stairs, Verial saw servants of the manor fleeing in terror as merfolk creatures chased them down with lethal intent. They were so fast; Verial barely had any time to respond or to help anyone.

Taking a chance, Verial leapt over the edge of the stairs, a six foot drop, and descended upon one merfolk creature that was ready to plunge a deadly barb into the back of a woman - someone Verial recognized as one of the head cooks. Verial's sword came down with his landing, splitting the creature about a good foot or so deep with the force. Verial wrenched his sword free and kicked the merfolk to the side as the frightened cook looked up, clutching the spot over her heart and breathing deeply. She opened her mouth to say something, but Verial stopped her.

"Where are Lady Sahar and Layla Victoire?"

Any words that might have been said were quickly silenced though as a sharp barb pierced through the woman's throat. She slumped to the floor and a merfolk, whom Verial assumed was grinning, was revealed behind her. As it moved to jump over the woman and stab Verial with its other bard, Verial took one his daggers and threw it through the creature's heart. Instantly, it dropped to the floor. Collecting his dagger, Verial ran back towards the dining area where he was to meet Sahar and Layla later for dinner. It was strangely quiet down the hall and when he got there, he found the room devoid of anyone except for Edgar who was lying over the dinner table, both hands pressed over a fatal wound that was about six inches in diameter and bleeding profusely.

Verial rushed to the old butler's side and looked down at him, placing a comforting hand at Edgar's side in attempt to get him up and lead him to safety. Edgar, with what surprising strength he had left, pushed Verial away as he slumped back against the table, his breath becoming shallow and labored.

"Edgar, come on. I'm going to get you out of here."

"My Lord, this time I must... disagree with you. I would like to stay right here if you don't mind. Trying to bring me to safety is... not worth the effort at this point, though I do thank you for your... efforts. Save... Chaliceton."

"Edgar, where is Sahar and Layla? Where is Sedric?"

"The two Ladies were already gone by the time I got here... I regret though... I do not know where they were escorted to. Hopefully they are safe... Sedric... I don't know."

"You did well, Edgar. I'll find them - alive. I promise you."

"Thank you, M'Lord," Edgar said with a final breath.

With no time to tend to the deceased butler, Verial left the dining room finding the hallway in more chaos then there was before her ventured down it. Servants were taking off with bags of things, intent on getting out of Chaliceton as merfolk stalked them like prey. Verial had barely any room to get through the panicked people or fight off the merfolk as they descended. The hallway finally opened up into the main hall of Northsea Manor, unarmed people spilling out only to land into barbs and natural weaponry of the merfolk. A handful actually made it out the door. Verial managed to usher out and save what servants he could as fought off merfolk, but he found himself growing tired, trying to match what unnatural speed they had.

The cold and snow of Chaliceton hit him as he made his way out of the manor. Almost instantly he felt his damp hair freeze against his cheeks and face, but the frigid temperature was the least of his concerns. Snowfall, thick and constant, obscured anything ahead of him making the merfolk more difficult to see and catch. As Verial moved through the town though, he realized that the merfolk were not his only enemies.

Chaliceton's own were turning against the city. Soldiers and merchants became crazed, a mask of blood thirst and lust in their eyes. This was the exact same look Verial had seen in the eyes of the boy who had frozen down in the well, only the nature of the person was vastly different. He saw men, suddenly three times in his own strength, dragging battered women off into dark alleys in the midst of an attack. Verial didn't second guess himself; he ran to the nearest man and plunged his sword through his heart as he was ripping the clothes off of a screaming woman.

"Go! Get out of the city!"

She clutched what clothes she had left and ran, fleeing towards the main gate of Chaliceton. As Verial moved back towards the center of the city, fighting both merfolk and those who used to be friend, he realized there was no plausible chance of defending this city. The merfolk had been here for one reason - extinction. In fact, Verial noticed, the merfolk were rarely surfacing any longer. Those barbs, those lethal poisoned weapons, had been used to turn Chaliceton against itself. The people of Chaliceton, once hearty and wholesome folks, were no longer as such. Many of them, too many to count, had turned violent.

He had to act quicker, despite his ever growing exhaustion. Verial looked about the city and raced over to the nearest fallen soldier. Against the wall of Chaliceton the man laid in a pool of his own blood. Verial grabbed the arrows and bow that the man carried and sheathed his sword afterwards. The man must have been shooting at the merfolk from Chaliceton's wall and then fell over after he was attacked. With a bow and arrow, Verial was able to move through the city and dispatch some of his now turned enemies from a distance. He was so focused on doing this that he nearly shot Francis who had been running towards him.

"Verial! Thank the gods I've found you. Where have you been?"

"Just taking a stroll, Francis," Verial said as he lifted his bow to shoot an infected man that was coming up behind Francis. Francis flinched a bit as Verial went to retrieve the arrow from the fallen man. "Where are Sahar and Layla?"

"The last time I saw them, they were protected in the armory. What of your orders?"

"Get everyone out of the town. It's hopeless to save Chaliceton right now. The merfolk are using Chaliceton to hide and conceal themselves. We need to be outside. Get as many as you can and head a good distance away from the city," Verial said pointing to the gate. "Don't stop to kill anyone who blinks at you the wrong way. They're using our own against us." Francis nodded and was about to start when Verial called back to him. "Take them some place far from any water! There's a forest a few miles southeast of Chaliceton!"

Verial hoped with all his being as Francis ran off that the younger soldier would make it and that in his mission, he would save some of the other Chaliceton folks who had not become infected. Verial did the same as he had mentioned to Francis. Those soldiers and captains who were not infected, Verial gave them orders to take the other people and head towards the forest meeting spot. Though there was mass chaos about and it didn't seem intent on ceasing anytime soon, Verial could now see people taking flight in an organized manor out of Chaliceton's gates. Horses, sleds drawn by dogs, and people who were faster on foot left the city like it was burning down. In a way, though there was no fire visible, it was.

In his quest to save people, he saw a face through the snow that usually he would have not wanted to see. Layla. And Sedric was with her. He rushed over to them as they fought off merfolk and infected Chaliceton folk with pistols. When Layla saw him, Verial noticed a look, however brief it was, of relief wash over her face. Sedric had been injured in several places, but he did not appear to be infected. Verial was sure that the healer captain could not stand for much longer and continue to fight.

"Sedric! Layla! We need to get everyone we can southeast of here to the forest. Many are already heading that way," Verial started. "Where is Sahar?!"

Before she could even answer, Verial saw any relief on Layla's face was quickly wiped cleaned and replaced by worry. They had no idea where the desert magae was.

It Didn't Take Long To Reach The Rift Gate Which Would Bring Him To Drybrush, And Passing Through It Was As Simple As Concentrating On Where He Wanted To Go. It Only Took A Matter Of Moments, Less Time Than Was Needed Than For Him To Absorb The Full Measure Of What Waited On The Other Side. A Full Scale Assault.

The Rift Was A Short Distance From The City Of Drybrush, And From Where He Stood He Could See Columns Of Smoke Rising From Several Different Locations In The City. Screams And Shouting Came From All Directions, And The Air Was Dense With A Mixture Of Sand And Dust Brought About From The Collapsing Buildings. He Wasted No Time Moving Forward, Able To See Beyond The Normal 3 Dimensional Spectrum To The Energy Which Gave Matter Its Presence. As Typical Eyes May Use Distinct Features And Details To Spot Differences, So Too Did The Variations Of Energy Allow Him To Tell Friend From Foe, Living Thing From Non-Living Thing. And What He Saw Was Death, Death All Around.

The Last Order He Had Given Was For The Protectorate To Purge Drybrush. This Mean That All Non-Civilian Presence Was To Be Eliminate By Any Means Necessary, And The Following Of His Command Was Seen In Every Amphibious And Infected Body He Passed. However, For Every 5 Or So Fallen Enemies There Was The Body Of A Non-Infected Denizen, Or One Of His Own Comrades. Every Fallen Guard Caused Anger In Him But He Knew Anger Would Have To Wait, This Was Not A Time For Revenge But Salvation. The People And Their City Had To Be Protected, That Was His First Responsibility -- Anger Could Come Later. Each Fallen Friend He Passed Caused Him To Quicken His Pace Until He Encountered His First Enemy. Only It Wasn't Some Ocean Dweller Or Sickened Citizen, It Was One Of His, An Elite.

They Came Bounding Into The Street From A Side Alley. The Black Coat They Wore Had Several Tears In It, And The Shroud Which Once Covered Their Face Had Been Torn Off Revealing The Ebony Liquid That Ran From Its Mouth And Nose. When Their Wide, Furious Eyes Met Him The Infected Guard Seemed Almost Confused As If It Didn't Know What To Make Of Him. Valorius Had Gathered Information About The Infection For The Last Few Months, And What He Knew Was That The Sickness Caused One Of 3 Reactions. Those Infected Became Driven By Either Mindless Aggression, Listless Depression, Or Sexual Frenzy. He Had Chosen The Elites Himself Based On Their Aggressive Dispositions So He Knew Which Category Of Infected Stood Before Him. Why Then Did It Not Just Attack Him?

Perhaps Because The Young Prince Was Neither Alive Nor Dead And The Former Elite Was Unable To Determine Just What It Was Standing In Front Of. The Infected Girl Came Toward Him, Chest Heaving With Deepened Breaths As If Always One Moment Away From Striking, And Yet When She Reached Him She Paused. He Could Hear The Almost Animal Like Growls Coming With Each Breath As She Stood Less Than A Foot Away. Her Eyes Roamed All Over His Face As If Trying To Figure Our If She Should Attack Or Move On.

Valorius' Right Hand Lifted Slowly And Touched To Her Face, The Tips Of His Fingers Felt The Warmth Of Her Skin Showing She Was Still Very Much Alive. She Did Not Move Or Even Seem To Notice His Hand As She Continued Looking Over His Face. As He Watched Her Eyes He Remembered When He Found Her. Abandoned By Her Family As A Child She Had Been Left To Fend For Herself In An Abandoned Homestead Back In The Empire. He Had Been Sent There Due To Reports Of Theft, Finding The Young Girl Brandishing A Sharpened Piece Of Metal To Protect What She'd Taken; Food And Bare Necessities. He Saw An Unwillingness To Surrender In Her Eyes Back Then, It Was Why He Had Chosen Her.

Now There Was Nothing. Just A Mindless Fury Where Once So Much Strength Had Been. His Thumb Began To Caress Her Cheek Just Below Her Eye And He Spoke Softly To Her.

"I'm so sorry, Lana. I'm sorry that...that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that this happened. You deserved better."

Slowly He Moved His Right Hand And Covered Her Mouth, Pinching Her Nose Shut Between His Thumb And The Crease Of His Hand As Well. He Could Feel Her Still Trying To Breathe Against His Hand But Unable To Take In Air. Still, She Made No Attempt To Stop Him.

Fight....
Please....fight.
Please.

He Pleaded Mentally, Begging For Her To Resist, To Struggle, Anything.

"FIGHT!!!!!"

She Didn't, Even As He Yelled Loud Enough For His Voice To Carry Far In All Directions. She Only Stood There, Her Attempts To Breathe Becoming More Labored. Even As She Felt Herself Dying She Did Not Resist, She Only Looked At Him With So Much Confused Rage. Then Slowly Her Eyes Fluttered And Drifted Shut. Moments After He Felt Her Struggle To Breathe Faded Away, And Her Body Slumped Forward. When He Drew His Hand Away Her Face Fell To His Chest. He Stood There For A Few Moments Before His Left Arm Raised And Wrapped Around Her, Cradling The Back Of Her Head And Running His Luminescent Fingers Down Her Hair.

Mariska..
Tyler...
Lana...
Ameerah...

Righteousness, Anger, Vengeance, They Were What He Had Felt Most Of His Life. Driven By Each At One Time Or Another He Had Done His Best To Make Use Of Them, To Protect Those In His Charge. And Now All He Felt Was Hurt, A Pain He Had Always Pushed Away Because He Had No Time For It. At That Moment He Couldn't Stop It, It Overwhelmed Him. He Saw Their Faces, All The People He Had Failed -- Those Who Had Trusted Him, Counted On Him. The Ones Who Were Supposed To Have Mattered Most. They Were Dead And Gone Because He Had Failed Them. Each One More Valuable, More Necessary Than He Was.

While Standing There With The Fallen Elite The Rumble Of Another Collapsing Building Was Heard A Moderate Distance Away, And His Eyes Slowly Turned Towards It, Glassy From Tears He Wouldn't Allow To Fall. And From His Pendant He Heard A Voice, A Female Voice,

Alice.

"Commander! They're attempting to box us in sir! We're having trouble taking the civilians out of the city! What are your orders?!"

Seconds Passed And He Said Nothing, Still Stroking Lana's Hair As He Turned To Look Upon Her Face As It Still Pressed Lifelessly To His Chest.

"COMMANDER! WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?!"

Finally He Raised His Eyes Again To Where The Building Had Been Falling. It Had To Stop. All Of It Had To Stop. Lowering Down, He Guided Lana With Him Until He Could Lay Her Softly Upon The Ground, Removing His Coat And Laying It Over Her Face To Shield Her From The Dust And Sand. Then, Finally He Touched His Right Hand To His Pendant.

"This is Valorius. All protectorate are to halt aggression. Focus all efforts on taking the civilians to the rift gate. Get them out of the city."

"But sir! The enemy is blocking our path! We can't re.."

He Cut Off Her Words Mid-Sentence.

"I will take care of the enemy, captain. Just get the civilians and the remaining guard on the other side of the gate. You are all to LEAVE Drybrush. This all ends here."

Alice Had Been Around Valorius Enough To Know His Voice, To Know When Something Wasn't Right. She Touched To Her Pendant And Spoke Several More Times But Was Not Given A Response. The Prince Stood And Walked Down The Street Stopping At Several Dead Civilians And Protectorate Members, First To Put On An Elites Coat Covered In Untainted Blood, And Again To Coat His Skin In The Blood Of A Non-Infected Civilian. As He Continued Making His Way He Concentrated Upon The Energy In His Arm, Changing The Way It Emitted To Resemble A More 'Living' Signature. With How Raw The Energy Was Such An Emission Was Like A 'Beacon' Of Life Amongst Smaller, Fainter Lights In The City. A Beacon That Every Infected Would Detect Easily. Like Moths To Flame They Would Be Drawn To It.

As For The Amphibious Enemy, Without The Aid Of The Sick, They Would Follow Where The Infected Were Going, Otherwise They Risked Being Over Run. All Across The City The Protectorate And Denizens Would Notice Their Attackers Withdrawing, The Entirety Of The Enemy Being Drawn Somewhere Deeper Into The City. The Bel Telal Knew What Had To Be Done To Prevent Further Death And To Stop The Loss Of Drybrush

It Was His Turn.

Alice Saw How Quickly The Attacks Stopped, And While She Was Not A Telepath She Was Also Not Stupid. The Sounds Of Valorius' Voice Along With The Sudden Departure Of The Enemy Told Her All She Needed To Know.

"Commander!!!..
Valorius!!!..
VALORIUS!!!!!! Do NOT do this!!"

Numerous Voices Spoke Through The Pendants. All Of Them Calling Out To Him, Pleading For Him To Rethink What He Was Doing. Then They All Silenced When His Voice Came Through One Last Time.

"This is what we are. THIS is WHO we are. All of you have sacrificed so much. All of YOU have given EVERYTHING for your duty, for the protectorate. I can ask no more. And I could not be more proud of any of you. Protect the people. Protect each other. Tous pour un, un pour tous."

The Pendant Was Pulled From His Neck And Dropped Into The Dirt As He Moved Forward, Towards The Center Of The City. The Sound Of Growling And Many Pairs Of Charging Feet Came From Every Direction As He Drew His Pistols From Their Holsters. Clicking All 4 Hammers Back He Turned His Eyes Towards A Specific Direction, A Temple Being Far On The Other Side Of The Continent.

"The chaos has to stop. But I'll give you plenty of death."