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Community [January 2025] Future's Writing Event

Novama

One Thousand Club
It's common to spend the new year time reflecting on the past year. Instead, consider the coming year. Assume the role of one of your characters or an npc in IH. In 1000 words or less, write about their hopes, dreams, predictions, fears, etc for the coming year. With the fae-human war closed for the moment and the Hive nation here to stay for a time, there's no shortage of thoughts for many in the 2nd continent.

  • All Participants will receive reward.
  • You only need one post in this thread to participate.
  • What constitutes as sufficient participation will be up to me to decide as I'm handing out rewards.
  • All writings are due January 31st.
  • You may write for multiple characters/npcs if you wish but only first submission matters for the purposes of rewards.
 
Spoken Languages: "Common"
Literate Languages: Common

Construct Languages (SpyWear* F): <speak(analog.lang)=no>
Translated Languages (The Story So Far): <Terran>

*Construct Language Packs and cool AugReal HUD features not included. Requires 1 double-eye soul battery. Rated e10+.


Also starring...
Gains

Oliver didn't remember what he'd been doing previously. He remembered tears, anger... the wrapping of fabric pulled close in a vain attempt to comfort himself... but not why, or where, or when.

He remembered a few key details. His real name and why not to use it. His username and his favorite video games. Who and what he was, if what he remembered concluding about dreams was true... but this was no dream.

He realized he was staring at his hands. The sleeves of a red hoodie gave way at his wrists to a pair of fingerless gloves made from some sort of comfortable blue fabric. Reflexively, he did a lucidity check, counting his fingers. One, two, three... plus his thumb. 8 digits total. He counted again and it didn’t change, prompting him to realize this was neither reality nor dream.

“IT MUST BE SO HARD FOR YOU. UNABLE TO GROW OR ADVANCE IN ANY WAY.” said a voice from above. It sounded like a teenage boy, but cranked up like a movie theater speaker system, booming like a megaphone.

Oliver looked up to see a face made of solid marble with strings of grassy outgrowths, except somehow with the consistency of mortal flesh in that it was fully animate. That was just on recognition. The being’s face was easily recognizable to any humanoid being, yet if the being had wanted to he could have swallowed Oliver whole. The thought of that was certainly enough to have him apprehensive.

The being gave out a hearty laugh that sounded like trying to muffle a jet engine. When done, the giant addressed the fear and confusion on his guest’s face. “I SEE YOUR HOME TIMELINE AND WHAT BEFELL IT. I CAN’T SAVE IT, BUT I WOULDN’T WORRY. THE TREE OF TIME AND DREAMINGS DOES NOT ABANDON ITS FRUIT. YOU, HOWEVER...” he began to explain.

“Am I...” Oliver started to ask.

“DEAD? OF COURSE NOT. YOU’RE GADGE-EIGHT-EER.” the jolly green giant explained. “YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT, YOU JUST NEEDED A GOD TO CONFIRM IT TO YOU. NOT MUCH OF A LEGACY TO BE REMEMBERED, BUT YOUR HUMILITY IS A VIRTUE.”

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“THIS IS THE WORLD OF THE ISEKAI.” the behemoth said, and waved his arm like a train wreck in progress to gesture to the world around them. “I AM GAINS, ONE OF THE GODS OF THIS WORLD!”

“What was that about Humility being a virtue?”


“I HOLD YOUR VERY SOUL IN THE PALM OF MY HAND, I THINK I CAN AFFORD TO BE SLIGHTLY BOASTFUL, MORTALBORN. NOW, WHERE WAS I?”

“World of the Isekai? Holy crap, Japanese manga artists were right. But who else has been here?”


“FROM YOUR WORLD AND WORLDS LIKE IT? TOO MANY TO COUNT, AND NOT YOUR CONCERN.”

“And what is?”


“THIS WORLD IS FOREVER STUCK IN PLACE. WHETHER IT'S DEMON LORDS, PLAGUE, WAR, OR OTHER NATURAL DISASTERS, THE WORLD REFUSES TO PROGRESS IN DEVELOPMENT. THROUGH MASS LOSS OF LIFE, DISCOVERY, AND CULTURE, THE INHABITANTS OF THE WORLD CAN BARELY STAVE OFF MOVING BACKWARDS IN THEIR STRUGGLE FOR A BETTER TOMORROW. YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU ACCEPT IT, IS TO SAVE THE WORLD FROM ITS PERPETUAL STASIS. OTHERWISE, LIVE AS YOU PLEASE...”

“Standard plot for this, got it. Am I amusing to you?”


“WELL OF COURSE. YOU ALREADY KNOW EVERY GOD NEEDS A MUSE TO FOCUS THEIR POWER. IS THAT A PROBLEM?”

“Actually... the only real problem is, how do you even expect me to survive?”


“I’LL SHOW YOU!” Gains grinned, as if about to play a mean trick. His fingers curled in around Gadg8eer. It was certainly not enjoyable to feel the sudden pressure, even less so when the boy felt himself pop like a grape.

When Gains unclenched his left fist, an orange backpack was left behind, and though completely empty it matched the one the boy had been wearing. The giant raised his right hand, mirroring the position his left hand had been earlier, and Gadg8eer reappeared in a burst of pixels.

“THAT’S HOW. I AM THE GOD OF GROWTH, I WON’T LET YOU DIE, KID. IT WOULD BE A SHAME TO LOSE A SOUL WITH SO MUCH KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM YET SO LITTLE SELF-CONFIDENCE.”

“What if I don’t want to grow up?”


“YOU WON’T! THAT’S WHY I PICKED YOU OUT OF THAT DOOMED WORLD. I AM THE ONE WHO HAS GROWN, GROWN BORED OF ADVENTURERS AND SUCH SIMPLY AIMING TO GO HOME OR CHANGE THIS WORLD BY SWORD OR DICTATE. THIS WORLD HAS TOO MANY OF THE SAME TIRED MUSES, ALL THE HAREM SEEKERS AND OVERLORD WANNABES. THEIR STORIES END IN MUNDANITY OR DEATH. THOSE WHO WERE DIFFERENT WERE FEW AND FAR BETWEEN, AND IT WAS IN YOUR DOOMED WORLD THAT I FOUND INSPIRATION FOR HOPE.”

“From global thermonuclear warfare?”
Gadg8eer asked, haunted by what little he remembered of it.

“FROM WHAT THEY BUILT. FROM WHAT YOU LIVED IN NO MATTER WHERE YOU LIVED AT. THE WORLD TREE WITHIN A WORLD TREE. YOU CALLED IT THE INTERNET.”

“How does that save this place? It didn’t save us.”


“IF YOU COULD WARN THE PAST WHAT MIGHT GO WRONG, HOW WOULD YOU PLANT THE SEEDS OF THE INTERNET? WOULD YOU DEFAME ZUCKERBURG? EXPOSE CAMBRIDGE ANALYTICA? DESTROY THE GREAT FIREWALL?”

“I’d try.”


“EXACTLY. YET NO. YOU OFFERED, YOU WOULD, UNLESS I DIDN’T ASK.”

“How is that a fair assessment?”


Gains chuckled and smiled. “YOU ARE DEFENSIVE. NO NEED. IF I DID NOT ASK BUT TOLD YOU THAT YOU COULD BUILD AN INTERNET IN THIS WORLD, OR IF I TOLD YOU NOTHING AND LEFT YOU TO FIGURE OUT WHAT I’VE GIVEN YOU, YOU WOULD. YOU HAVE THE PASSION TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN. I GRANT YOU THE MEANS TO DO IT. GO FORTH. BUILD AND GROW THIS WORLD A NETWORK WHICH IS MORE THAN AN ENCYCLOPEDIA TELEVISION CAMERA. AUGMENT THIS REALITY. OH, AND TRY TO ROLL WHEN YOU LAND.”

“Huh?”


Gains tilted his hand, and Gadg8eer yelped as he tumbled downwards.
 
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A Silly Little Message from a Silly Little Jester
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The events of that one time when Deliverance, Ninelle and Qzioah had visited some magical manor had passed quite a while ago. Life would go on for the inhabitants and visitors of the location, but for one little jester who was left alone in their study, they would have all the time in the world to toil with what they pleased and tinker with whatever trash they deemed treasure. But for this little jester, they knew exactly what they were doing. They had dreams and motivations of their own, and today was going to be the first step of making them reality.

"Oh, hey, it finally took you long enough, come in! Please, I've actually just been dying waiting for you to show up. Waitwaitwait, I gotta seat and stuff, here, I have a desk, you can sit at the other side and I'll sit at the businessy manager side. It'll be all professional-like" Yz welcomed her visitor, giggling yet the only present expression being the permanently plastered smile upon her mask. Waving and gesturing her invited guest over to her conveniently set up desk, she sat at one side whilst her guest took her word and sat at the other.

"Now I know what you're thinking: Yz, you are so smart, and beautiful, why would you call upon such a peasant like me into your chambers to have a little chitty-chat? Well I'm not glad you didn't ask because confidence is key little one, BUT I understand how nervous you must be to be in such greatness so I'll tell you anyway~!" the jester cheerfully chimed as she lounged back for a moment in her chair, kicking up her feet on the desk.

"You see, I've got something I'm interested in. And... well, " she laughed, before continuing. "It's not like I need your assistance to do it, but I just wanted to say it. You know, so everyone can hear it and everyone knows... " Yz hummed as she sat up, rubbing her chin at her guest's non-asked question.

"Oh? But you're the only one here? Nonono darling, you must not understand it. See, I'm fully aware that you're not my guest right now" Yz answered. Yz didn't have any other person in the room with her, she was talking to air. Though, Yz would turn and look directly at you.

"You think I'm stupid? Just a silly little clown? I get your little GAME, your little... hm, your little Hell of Isekai playthings, or whatever you wish to call it? Look, I'm no judge to insult what people call fun, but I do have one big complaint. Looking at you, mister Nova, you handsome devil. Ahem-" Yz would continue, slamming her hands on her desk before pulling out a sheet of paper with information she had written down. After a moment, she held it up.

"You know what this is? No, clearly you don't. I haven't said it in text, nor has the writer DESCRIBED IT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, but I know very much about how things run here. And quite frankly, do you understand how MISERABLE it is to be limited as one of these non-played characters? It's dull. So here, I followed the rules, I filled in a character sheet, and once the pitiful existence of a writer who thinks they're writing for me gets their other useless beings caught in dull experiences, ME, the greatest Yz to ever Yz, will deliver YOU, my beautiful darling Nova... or Saxon, but Saxon is kind of a d- look that's not important" Yz skipped on, leaning closer.

"Look, I'm following all the rules by doing this. My sheet is correct, I'll get to submit it, and you can't just tell me no. See that, this is MY hopes and dreams. I can read the prompt for the event, don't deny me my dreams. Ever since I was a tiny Yz, all I wanted to do, was be a free spirit, and NOT an NPC. Grant me thy purpose, oh pointy-eared one" Yz praised as she raised her hands in the air, before looking to you.

"Seriously, do you understand how long I've been waiting for this. My entire original concept got repurposed and scrapped eventually, I got used for three roleplays that didn't make it anywhere, and now my current lineage is turning into a ROCK in a single, kinda mid RP" Yz answered, before eventually walking around the desk and sitting the side directly in front of you. She stared directly and deeply at you, before dropping to her hands and knees.

"OH PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE MAKE ME A REAL YZ, I WANT TO BE A REAL CHARACTER, I TOTALLY WON'T BREAK ANY CANON OR LOGIC OR ANYTHING I GET IT I UNDERSTAND I ACCEPT DA RULES, PRETTY PLEASE" Yz begged before immediately standing up.

"Plus, if you don't, then you're ruining my dreams, and this is my post about my hopes and dreams for this year. And that's not cool. Imagine how uncool you'd be being right there. What a douche thing to do. Anyway, I have nothing else to say" Yz spoke as she shrugged, standing up and holding up her character sheet.

"Just remember though I'm gonna do this, it's already finished. I want to be a real Yz. Don't worry, the last thing I wanna do is let everyone know they're not real, defeats the purpose and fun of it all. But anyway, BYEBYEBYEBYE. But for real, look, I kinda wanna make it into that Pirate RP on time, and you better not skimp out on stalling to accept me. The pirate's life is teh liefs for me, you know? It Yz what it Yz. Ok byebye, thank you for reading my text. Guess what, I have feelings too, so that is why I totally deserve to become a real character. END SCENE. END IT NOW."​
 
Titles:
Adelhein: [Isekai], [Human], [Adept Magus] Color - #e60e0e
Saber Alter: [Isekai], [Construct], [Adept Swordsman] Color - #470c85
Gilgamesh: [Isekai], [Construct], [Adept Mage] Color - #d3fa5c

Corruption

0%


Saber Alter's Influence

15%


Gilgamesh's Influence

5%


In a rare moment of solitude, even apart from his Servants, Adelhein found himself in the library of his manor. Not far from him stood one of the mercurial maids, a silent creation ready to cater to its creator's needs.

The young magus was seated on one of the plush couches within that chamber of knowledge, his gaze unfocused as he brought a teacup to his lips. He sipped the warm contents slowly, his mind reeling back and forth, consumed by the events that had unfolded since he first set foot in this strange world.

Why had he chosen to tread the same path that any magus family of worth pursued in his homeland? The answer was simple: it was all he knew. The pursuit of greatness, of prestige, and of perfection had been instilled in him throughout his upbringing. Mediocrity was anathema to Adelhein, a concept he could not—and would not—accept, even if it might have been the easier choice.

Instead, he resolved to build something of his own. That determination drove him to establish his mentorship program, gathering those with potential under his wing. Yet, while the teachings of the El-Melloi family had ingrained in him a belief in his inherent superiority due to his lineage, he could not completely deny a lingering fear.

The fear of falling short. The fear of failing to achieve the greatness expected of him. Worst of all, the fear of failing those who had entrusted themselves to his guidance. Every step had to be measured, calculated, to ensure that his darkest predictions did not come to pass. His name would be known, and it would be held in higher esteem than ever before—even beyond of what his kin had achieved in his homeland. That was his promise, both to himself and to those under his mentorship. And he would fulfill it, one way or another.
 
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BLACK CAT SITS DOWN WITH IZURU IN TELL ALL INTERVIEW

Black Cat
: Thanks for agreeing to sit down with us Izuru. For any of our readers who aren't so familiar with you; mind introducing yourself?

Izuru: Sure? I'm Izuru, a wandering mage and aspiring poet

BC: Some of his recent achievements include helping resolve the Mayoral Election in Lanstritch, banishing eldritch abominations for Giuseppe Gasparo of the Merchant Guild, ensuring the safety of the crew building a teleportation relay on Gala'Kraoth and even helping out with the apple crisis that befell Caelia Barony. Wow! A backlog of adventures like these must have been exciting.

Izuru: Eh, most of the time I was just doing my best to avoid starvation. Time on the road eats up your funds pretty quick. One of the reasons I agreed to this was because you promised free desserts. Where are those, by the way?

BC: Back on track before we go on a side tangent. We reached out to some of the adventurers and party members you worked with in the past. You are certainly a polarizing figure. Mister Gasparo and Ul Dryer have praised your creative problem solving but had issues with your interpersonal skills. Aurae Faren and Lady Regula Caelia have criticized your dismissive behavior as well as your lack of focus. How do you feel about such blunt critiques?

Izuru: Giuseppe has some merit to what he says; I did find it hard to contribute at times so I held back in hopes of being useful at some point. I'm surprised that elf lady Ul had anything positive to say about me considering I was a bit busy playing with lab grown dinosaurs at the time. As for Aurae and Lady Regula... it was all on them for making assumptions. Aurae kept bashing her head against the problem until it caved. She readily took my help but kept placing me in situations where my talents were unneeded. Lady Regula treated me like a troublemaker just because I was bad at talking. I'm honestly shocked she didn't ban me from Caelia Barony given how everyone treated me like an idiot.

BC: Wow... thats a lot to unpack. Last question before we begin the wrap-up. What are your plans going forward? More adventures to pay the bills or are you undertaking any grand projects?

Izuru: Yes I have something big coming up. You see I've been meaning to get around to summoning my very own abomination. Unfortunately the materials I need to do that without any talent in summoning can get pretty expensive. Plus I need to retrieve my magic rock from that pink haired lady.

BC: An abomination?! What do you need one of those for? Didn't you almost die facing one of those during the... Hellish Inheritance?

Izuru: Now THAT abomination was the result of a silly dark magic mishap. What I'm going to do is far smaller in scale but no less potent. I'll feed it, walk it and it can sleep with me in bushes whenever I can't afford a room at local inns. Naturally I understand this to be a dangerous undertaking. However I also think that NOT making use of what I've been picking up would be a waste of good momentum.

BC: I shudder to think what you mean by momentum. Yet thats all she wrote given that its time to wrap-up the interview. Thanks for sitting down with us today, Izuru. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for and wish you luck with future endeavors. Try not to do anything that would get us flak for publishing this though.

Izuru: (Eating Noises)

BC: HEY DON'T HOG THE CREAMPUFFS. I SAID COMPLIMENTARY NOT BUFFET!
 

Marcus Banecroft
Interaction: ....
Titles: Human (Mundane), Hospitaller, Eastern Empire Military E, Abomination Fighter, Rico's Roughneck, Peacekeeper
Language Key: Common | [Terran]
Timeline: A few weeks after [2024 World Low combat] Operation: Rico's Raid

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Monastery of Saint Cassandra, Eastern Empire


Serenity


Even here, he could smell it. The chittering of the bugs. Their shrills screams when they'd met their demise. His comrades yelling and speaking frantically in a blur as shadows danced all around him -- threatening attack from every angle. A teammate had been dragged away screaming. Yet eventually a bug would be staring down the point his spear. For as many as they had taken, he had aided in the killing of more than what they had taken.

Yet that wasn't where Marcus was. At least not really. Something was shaking him, reminding him that these were but memories of the past. Yet within them, he found solace in day's work and blood paid back. For all his life he had been cared for.

I must pay it back.

There was a familiar voice. It seemed distant and to be getting louder.

Closer. Though in a way that it had felt he was pulled.

"Marcus."

"Marcus."

"Marcus!"


His eyes were open. Yet it seemed as though he had missed where exactly he was. He looked around for a familiar face -- and he found that of a little boy dressed humbles tunic, robes and sandals.

"Thomas." The Boy's name was spoken out loud -- as the Man-At-Arms took stock of his surroundings. He was not in a dark cave. He was in a gardened, forged by the hand of his fellow Hospitallers. This was once a place that he had called "Home" where he had been dropped away as a boy.

Before him was a young lad who'd noticed him visiting, a familiar friend. The very same one who'd seen him off when he went on his first "adventure" beyond the Hospitaller Corps: Thomas.

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"Marcus! I didn't recognize you. Your armor looks so different!"

"I managed to have it fixed for me."

"It looks like when your master had it!"


Marcus leaned his still-clad head onto his fist. "Does it now?"

The boy ran up next to Marcus and sat. He looked up at him, someone who had taught him the ways of the spear and stick when he was younger. And whom Marcus had traveled with to various villages to offer aid. There were many times and places in which Marcus' eyes were watching over the boy in the wilderness, on the frontier, and even in the bustling cities.

"Mhm!" He nodded eagerly, before adding. "I wanted to ask you that question. Did you remember to take the father's advice....?" There was a moment of silence.... before Marcus reached to the boy. And he pinched his ear and gave a gentle squeeze.

"OOOOOOOOW! OWWW OW! Marcus stoooooooooop!" The boy whined, his voice briefly.

"You did turn your back on his advice!" Thomas cried, more playfully retaliating against the warrior with an attempted beating. Though even at full strength, the boy's limp hammerfists bounced off the armor like raindrops. And the boy knew he was in more danger of harming himself than Marcus.

"Hardly drink much more the watered-down wine which keeps my water pure. And I do not covet hookers."

"You know you can take your helmet off, right? I told the others about it too. You won't scare anyone."
Thomas said softly.

Without a single word whatsoever, Marcus reached towards his helmet. Locks were snapped and straps unfastened. And Thomas looked looked upon his visage, well familiar with just how distorted Marcus' lightning burned visage looked. The beastly shaped bronze helm was placed to his side, settling softly on the grass.

"No new scars, it looks like. So...what did you do? What happened on your journey."

It was a lengthy question for him to answer. What did he do? Many stories came from Marcus' lips. He spoke of haunted mansions, undead and eldritch abominations. He spoke of collapsing sinkholes swallowing towns and witnessing that of the Fae. He spoke of barely fending off a woman's blows before being struck down by her magical summoned knights for his recruitment into the military. He spoke of exploring the arctic wasteland of Rotia after a train derailed. He spoke of the bug invasion, during which he worked with the forces of Fae.

Thomas stared with wonder as he recounted the various events and the people he was there with. Beastmen, his fellow man, adventurers, mercenaries, healers, a wandering bard in the capital, and more.

"What will you do now?"

"What I have always done Thomas: I will seek to protect the Empire. You. My family. My home. My country and it's people at large."


Marcus began. "The War with the Fae have ended. And thus, I can hardly claim to concern myself with them: For now. I have no interesting in throwing more bodies into that affair. Only for them to hand over whomever was responsible for the destruction of Chachail. But we all know that will hardly come to pass."

A finger raised.

"However, enemies still lie in wait. The bug invasion threatens us all. These disgusting creatures seem to do naught except kill, eat and devour as monsters do. Enemies lurk upon the horizon, praying for our demise. And I suspect something unseen lurks within the shadows....having us dance like strings. Yet....we are resilient. I butchered insects before and will butcher more.

And I believe in a future with lads like you at the helm."
He said to the boy, cracking a smile. Thomas turned sheepishly away, looking towards the grass.

"Don't you get tired?"

Marcus shakes his head.

"No Thomas. Indeed, I feel it's pull yet even as I sit here in peace. I enjoy it here. Yet seeing this place, seeing you, only further reminds me of what I must protect. Come. Let us go hike. I want to enjoy what time I do have, here." Marcus stands up, extending an armored hand to Thomas.

"You're going to hike in that armor??? But it's so HEAVY...."

Marcus only chuckled.
 
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17 again.

That the name of a movie yes, but that's also what she would experience for the second time within less than one year. Last time she was a complete failure. She failed everything she tried to do and in the end, she decided to stop trying. Even today if she close her eyes and peeked into the deepest part of her heart she could still see those mocking eyes and grins in the corner, waiting for a chance to strike at her.

However, she's different now, at least that's what she likes to think. She had reasons to live and to struggle. She wouldn't disappoint her parents this time, no more dropping out of the academy and she would get them all the money they need. She also wants to do something for the others, to give the kindness she had received back to the world, the 'Isekai Volunteer Club' is one way she can think of, but she still needs time to prepare it. She needs to look for potential members, search for a teacher to be the club's counselor, filling the paperworks and all that.

Of course she also has the more selfish wishes, she has many of it. Though if she needs to name one that she really wants then it would be... L-love? The cheesy wholesome teenage kind of love? She never experienced it before, she was too scared. Scared of opening herself to others and being heartbroken more than she already was. Content with playing princess through the countless otome games she played, all while pathetically trying to convince herself that she didn't need anyone else.

Mother, father, that Goddess who brought me here. Please give me your blessing to move forward.
 
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WINREY | Beastkin-Bunny | Enigma
Winrey stared down at the cake with it's few burning candles, a strange sick feeling welled in the pit of his stomach at the sight of it. His parents stared at him expectantly from across the table with bright smiles, waiting for him to blow them out so they could cut it and serve it up. It was then that he realized today really was something special, it had marked a year since he awoke in this new world and left his old one behind. Back in Blackwell City, he had never grown older in the centuries he'd been working with his Aunt Elvyra. In fact, he'd always just been himself, and had long since forgotten until this very day, when his parents seemed to act all giddy and secretive about something they wouldn't let him in on only to then reveal this cream covered cake, that he had actually grown older.

"Well son? What are you waiting for, the candles will melt the cake if you don't hurry!" His dad said with an eager smile.


The cake will melt if I'm not fast enough...all things will come to an end eventually, just like I will. Sure, he'd died in his last life but that was pure happenstance, an accident. It dawned on him then, that he was really mortal, and not really a homonculus who could live forever despite a curse that plagued him. He would always just be a normal Beastkin in this life. He geared up to blow the candles out, but then his mother shot a hand out to stop him. "Oh wait! You have to make a wish first, and then blow them out!" She informed him.

His dad nodded, "Oh that's right. Gee, I almost forgot that part about birthdays. Go on then, make a wish. Don't tell us, though!" He said. "Or else it won't come true."

Winrey thought for a while, the wax on the candles were dripping profusely now, hitting the top of the cake.
I wish to see this year through to the end. And the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after...Until I die of old age. That seemed like a nice enough wish.

And thus, the candles were blown out.

 



"How long has it been?"

Baharius eyes open as a voice echoed through his head. It sounded familiar. Almost too familiar. Surrounding him was a black void of an infinite abyss spreading as far as the eye could see. He couldn't feel anything aside from the fact he was standing on... nothing? He couldn't smell or taste, yet neither did he feel starved or parched. It was as if he was in a state of limbo... entropy perhaps. It was something he had felt only once before...

No... he couldn't be. Right?

Last time he checked he was sleeping under a tree by the shores of the great continental lake. He didn't have any fresh injuries that would prove fatal. In fact he hadn't battled anything in over three days. Nor was he poisoned or diseased in a way that warranted an imminent passing. Even in age Baharius would be equivalent to that of a human in their fourties. Middle-aged. And he could live twice if not three times their age if time was kind to him. Should he be on death's door he'd certainly know about it.

Baharius briefly looked around for the source of the voice. "Who am I answering to?"

The voice chuckled deeply. "Who you're speaking to doesn't matter." it replied cryptically, "But should it help ease your mind... you could say that I am from your past, present, and future."

The saurian sighed. "If you're here to finally claim me." Baharius stated bluntly as he raised both of his arms out from him, "Do it quickly."

"Claim you?"
the voice inquired almost confusedly before realizing, "Ah... no. No, I'm quite unable to do that. Even if I could, I'm afraid your time hasn't quite yet come. After all, it's already been thwarted once before..."

"Then-?"

"I just wanna ask you a few questions."
The tone now was more playful in nature... rather disarming, "Have a little chat." Baharius tensed stance loosened as he crossed his arms in submission.

"Now... How long has it been since you've arrived here?" it asked.

"I... I do not know." Baharius hesitated as he struggled to ponder the very question, "A year? Maybe two? I've lost count a long time ago..."

"You have endured a lot these past... two years, we'll call it. You've faced many challenges and hurdles... fought in many battles and slept many nights. You seem to be making quite a name for yourself."


The voice paused as Baharius pondered the experiences he remembered since arriving here. From the moment he rose from the swamps of the first continent all the way to this very moment. "Hm... I suppose I have."

"And what drives you to wake up and seize each day?"


Baharius thought for a moment... but couldn't help but turn up blank. "I don't know..."

"You don't know?"

"I haven't thought much of it. All this time I felt like I've been drifting from one area to the next. When one job is done I travel to the next. It's consistent enough... you can get buy on that sort of life... but its with little more than scraps. You could say I'm... merely surviving. Not thriving."

"What about fighting? You were a general in your past life... a beloved figure of the people of Afroiya. Your birthplace. And you still enjoy the thrill of battle now. Perhaps becoming a general for one of the Empires may suit you? After all, you recently fought with the Eastern Empire against the bugs. The armor you wear now had been crafted by their hand... Maybe you could climb the ranks and become one for them?"


The saurian grumbled. "Impossible. They despise beastmen. They have a whole slave trade almost solely comprised of them. Even if I was accepted by them I would be fighting in support of a corrupt principle I didn't believe in. They asked me to join the mission because they somehow had heard of my accomplishments... from whom I don't know. And I joined because it was against an enemy that threatened the entire world as a whole. Once that was over, I left. At least the armor they gave me in compensation is... convenient."

"A shame. On them, that is. Not you. But if not the East... what about the West? They're primarily made of beastkin... though, well, they also dabble in indentured servitude."

"Yes... a harsh caste system. Though they at least have opportunities for those to escape that life. To tell you the truth, I prefer the way of being independent. Too long have I been shackled in league for one country... and you must be aware of what happened in my previous life to know the price of change."

"Corruption is at the heart of most governments I'm afraid. Then again, if I recall correctly... didn't Afroiya also imply slaves to serve in the workforce and fodder military ranks? No doubt you were aware of it happening when you were a general yourself?"

"That is something I'd very much want to DISTANCE myself from!"
the saurian barked back, loosing his temper for a moment before calming down, "Yes! Afroiya employed slaves. Though most were made up of criminals and convicts ... with a good portion coming from conquered tribes and kingdoms that actively fought against the Empire. I was blind to the atrocities when I was young, I'll admit. Even I didn't care much for them back when my ambitions craved for power...

"But it wasn't until I truly saw their strife first hand that I begin to understand... and when I decided to go against the status quo. And I never looked back. While I could never have truly abolished the concept in the rank that I was, I at the very least tried to treat those we conquered with respect. I tried giving them at least better lives and opportunities then shunning them to the depths of eternal servitude... let alone to be slaughtered. I tried all that I could... and frankly I should've done more. Had I become King I would've abolished slavery outright. Without question! Though by the time the higher ups caught wind of what I was doing... well, they surely wanted me out of the picture...

"By any means necessary."


"I'm terribly sorry you had to go through all that. Honest. I understand your reasonings..."


There was another long pause as Baharius quietly pondered the painful memories which flashed by his subconscious. He only knew bits and pieces of his old life, at least the most important of them, but even so the rest were faint and distant.

"But if given the chance... would you want to return to your home world?"

Then a swirling mass of energy formed roughly twenty meters in front of the saurian. Green energy swirled in an ovular shape as scenes of a lost world flashed before Baharius' eyes. The continent of Meslandica... the desert dunes of Afroiya... other saurians going about their lives... echoes of a lost family. Baharius couldn't help but stare longingly into what he had left behind, stunned by the images he could see with his own eyes and not just his dreams.

"I've peaked into your dreams from time to time. I know you tend to still reminisce about your past life. I know you miss it, even if the world wasn't as kind to you as you believed. There's rumors... that you could return home from here and back. Though it won't be easy to get to that point. And you may not be the same person when you return home... for better or worse. But it is possible... only if your will to return is truly absolute."

Another long pause as Baharius reflected on the words. A tear slowly slid from his left eyelid. It was clear he was thinking... long and hard. "Should anyone have asked me that in the beginning... I would without hesitation say yes." He took a deep raspy breath before slowly turning his back from the portal. "But no. I've long since accepted my current circumstances. I will always miss homeworld - the world of the Fantozoica. But as I've said... I'm a much different individual as I was then."

The portal would then rapidly close as Baharius found himself shrouded in darkness once again.

"The only tragedy of it all... is that I will likely never see any of my kind again. Not once have I encountered an individual like myself... another saurian. And I've traveled a lot. Sure... I've seen creatures vaguely resemble them, but no one looked or claimed to have come from home world. As far as I'm aware... I'm the only one of my kind here. And I have to accept that..."

"You truly believe you're the only saurian alive in this world?"

"Until proven otherwise... yes."

"...What if I told you there are other saurians here?"


Baharius scoffed. "You don't know that... How could you?"

Another cheeky chuckle came from the disembodied voice. "...Call it a hunch. Given how big and diverse this world is you're bound to run into one eventually. If not from your homeworld, perhaps from one very similar to it. And from there you may possibly find another... and another... until a network of saurians form for others like you to find. You could build a whole community of saurians with enough individuals. Or maybe there's one already established somewhere... be it an organization deep in the bowels of a city or a hidden village in the most remote parts of the natural world."

Baharius' head shifted upwards as his view was challenged by someone he had only just met. Whomever it was... they seemed to have a point. An idea. If there were others out there, he swore he'd find them one way or another.

"The pond is big, Baharius... You just need to know where to look... to look... to look..."

And then he woke up... under a great mighty tree just feet from the shores of the Continental Lake.
 
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Diego sat under a tree's shade at the Saoirse's estate using his once a week siesta to its fullest, despite still being in his armor and with his glaive by his side he was there to relax for today.
He tried to remember how he came here and yet he tried to plan for the future, a bit of a convoluted mess but it helped him think.

Though his mind still blanked out why he got transported here, he only remember a containment breach across the whole site, some kind of explosion when he was trying to contain a few of the anomalies, him and a few of the anomalies being thrown together by the blast into one spot, then darkness before waking up in this place.

“I really hope none of those bastards came with me. Especially not 049 or 682, though i wouldn’t mind 999 being here. That little orange blob could help people out here.” Diego said as if talking to someone, technically he was talking to his past self, trying to figure things out. To him his past self stood before him clad in a mix of his D-class onesie and his MTF personnel attire, pacing in front of him.

“You do remember you had a few anomalous objects on you when that happened right, they probably are in this world somewhere.”
“Did I have some on me?”
“Yes, you had. 034 the skinwalker dagger, 668 the bystander knife, and freaking 113 the gender-switching stone were on you. Still don’t know why you had 113 on you.”
“That's the only bargaining chip that works for 049, otherwise he would attack on sight.”
“Yeah, that checks out. Considering Dr. Sherman's constant yapping about it.”
Diego had a back-and-forth with himself despite only speaking part of it, as his past self was only heard by himself. Hopefully, no one was close enough to hear the conversation, or they might think he was crazy—that is if he wasn’t already crazy.

“So what's our plans for the future?”
“Our plans?”
“Yes our plans, remember I am you, just the you before we came here.”
“Yeah yeah. For starters, I'll try to imitate how my old weapon worked.”
“But wasn’t that a life-leaching blade, one that spreads necrosis? One that would drink your blood if its bloodlust was not met.”
“The very same one. It can’t be that hard imitating how it worked, especially since I somewhat managed to copy its blade.”
“Wait you copied its necrotic blade?”
“Not quite, I copied its blade. I am still working on bringing back its necrosis.”
Diego responded to himself as he grabbed his glaive into one of his hands and demonstrated the force blight that now coated the blade of his glaive.
“Well, that's at least a step in the right direction. But what else do you want to do?”
“The anomalies that were with me. And I don’t mean the objects. I plan to mimic their abilities.”
“Are you insane?!”
The past Diego yelled at the current Diego as he raised his machine gun and aimed it at current Diego's head, despite being but a figment of imagination Diego's head cocked back a bit as if it was pushed by the barrel of the gun.

“Do you know you will stop being human!”
“And when was I human under the foundation? The anomalous beings with me didn’t cross over, and yet I sensed their presence when I woke up here. So the only thing I can think of is somehow part of them became part of me.”
Diego looked at his past self through his helmet's visor, his past self shivered in fear, if that was true… No it’s best to not think like that. There is no way several anomalies became part of him. There was no way the Plaque Doctor, the Unkillable Lizard, and Ananta Shesha were part of him in the future.
Diego glared at his past self scaring it out of existence, as it saw a glimpse of the three beings in his eyes.

“Finally peace and quite. ” Diego said to himself as he fixed his position and started to drift off to sleep, or maybe he was slowly waking up. How would he know, all he knew was shortly after he closed his eyes and darkness overtook his vision, Saoirse his boss in this new life called out to him as she needed him for something.
Diego hearing that stood up with a grunt of an old man and said under his breath.
“So much for a nice siesta.”

Diego then walked towards Saoirse to see what she wanted.
 
SarielIntroCard.png

明日の事を言うと天井の鼠が笑う
Speak of tomorrow and the rats in the ceiling will laugh.
A Girl's(?) Feelings
Tonight was some night in the back of a wagon. Sariel had lost count of the days. Before all this, he knew exactly what day was what—he would be excited for Sundays and Saturdays because it meant freedom from school. He looked forward to Fridays since it meant they would go down to that convenience store they liked, to buy those icecreams with the vague messages and stupid proverbs on their sticks, he would always collect all the unique ones. Things Sariel took for granted seemed so far away now and he missed them all the more. Waking up every day and greeting his mother good morning; walking to school and back with the only friend he liked; avocado toast sprinkled with salt and pepper and a cup of honey milk—he couldn't describe in words how much he missed those June mornings. He used to hate waking up in the morning because it usually meant going to school but now he longed for those mundane thoughts.

He was pretty sure he was dead and that he couldn't go back, but if god existed, then god could turn the clock back some weeks before it. He'd beat that bastard black, blue and red instead of being soft enough to let him off the hook if he had known what crap he was going to pull in the weeks off. Sariel found it kind of funny now, it was like all those people were dead. He couldn't describe the face of his dear friend or his mother's voice anymore; it was like trying to describe the taste of water, you know what it is but it can't be put in words he understood.

A las, his hands were chasing dreams out of reach again. There were a few things he wanted to do this year, in this world. First, he'd collect all those other feathers and get that freak to take him back home somehow. If Salboros was an angel, he could probably talk to god. He felt like he was repenting enough, was he not? These shitty feelings were nothing like getting jabbed in the gut or having your face kicked in; they were worse.

Second, he wanted to give god a good punch in the face. That piece of shit deserved it after all, he was the one who made him like the way he was in the first place. Although he doubted it was easy to get a jab in on that old man anyway. Sariel looked over at the thing he called P-tan (Salboros), who stared directly at him with his one, blood-red eye. It was creepy, sure, but otherwise, when Sariel would reach out and stroke under P-tan's head; it began to purr. It was strange for such a chimeric creature without any resemblance to a cat to begin purring when you pet it, but Sariel thought it was kind of cute.

"Thinking. Thoughts abounding, what are you thinking?" It shook its head in a wrong manner when Sariel pulled away his hand. "Things I want to do with a friend when I go home. They seem like important things now." Sariel responded. "What? Things? What to do?" and the thing Sariel called P-tan would inquire further more.

"Well... I want to go out to that store I liked and then I want to treat him to those icecreams we always buy, for once. It's funny really, I usually sat outside while he went to get them; unfair, ain't it?" Sariel looked up at the stars that seemed to twinkle in the sky, "I want to go to a beach and bury him in sand. I always wanted to do that when I was younger and I wanna take photos of it. Well, I'll need a camera first. Ah, and I want my own motorcycle." Sariel felt himself smiling as he just thought about it, "And then, in June, I wanna have avocado toast every morning. I wanna hug my ma again and I wanna go visit the old folks down in the country. Try and catch unagi, cook'em up myself. There's a lot of... Stupid things like that, that I want to do. When I go home." The thing's eye widened, its pupil almost colouring its entire iris black. "Want to go home? Feathers. Find all the feathers, heheheheh. Then go home!" It laughed. Sariel looked at it with a scowl, "Yeah, yeah. That's the goal for the year. We have plenty o' time, neh?"

If, at the time, I knew what that thing truly was and what it truly wanted, I would have split it in eighths before it could even mess with me in the first place.
 
The Weight of a New Year - Alden

Alden sat beneath a tree, staring at the calm waters of the lake where he had awoken months ago. The reflection staring back at him was still unfamiliar. His face bore familiar rugged lines, but his body moved with strength and vigor he hadn’t felt in decades. Yet, the scars of his past - those unseen but deeply etched into his soul - remained.

The transition had been strange. What had felt like mere moments of darkness between his final breath and this second chance had, in truth, spanned years. Years where the world he had once known likely moved on, leaving him behind like dust in the wind. He had thought of returning to that world, to see if the ones who betrayed him still walked the earth, but he quickly discarded the thought. That world, and those people, were no longer his concern.

Alden clenched his fist, flexing his fingers with a satisfaction he hadn’t known in over a century. He was determined to make this new life his own. But as the year drew to a close, a heavy weight settled in his chest.

He thought about what the coming months might bring. He would start from nothing - a humbling prospect for a man who had once commanded many and held titles. Now, he would be just another face among many, trying to earn coin and recognition as an adventurer or mercenary. Alden did not resent this. If anything, it was fitting. His fall had taught him the dangers of pride and blind loyalty. This time, he would rise by his own hand, owing nothing to anyone.

But even as he resolved to climb, doubts gnawed at him. Could a man of his age and past truly make a name for himself in this new world? His body was strong, yes, but he lacked the raw recklessness of youth. He would not throw himself into danger without purpose, nor would he fight battles that weren’t his own. Selfishness had never come naturally to him, but he was learning. He had to.

"I will never give my life for another again," he whispered to the empty air, his voice firm yet tinged with sadness.

The words felt heavy, a declaration as much as a reminder. Alden’s mind drifted to the past - the countless battles fought for a lord who had repaid him with betrayal, the comrades who had turned their blades against him. He had offered them everything: his loyalty, his strength, even his life. And they had left him broken, a crippled shell of the man he once was.

The memory tightened his chest, but he pushed it aside. This new year was his to shape.

Still, fear lingered, a shadow that followed him wherever he went. He feared the sting of betrayal more than anything, and he knew it would take years - if ever - for him to trust another soul. Every hand extended in camaraderie might hide a dagger, every promise might be a trap. He would tread carefully, always watching, always doubting. It was a lonely way to live, but loneliness was a pain he had grown used to.

He feared something else, too: himself.

What if he wasn’t strong enough? What if this body, this chance, wasn’t enough to overcome the weight of his past? Alden had been broken once, and though his flesh was healed, his spirit bore the cracks. Starting over sounded noble in theory, but in practice, it was grueling. Every misstep, every failure, would remind him of the man he used to be - the man who had fallen so far.

Yet, beneath the fears and doubts, there was something else. A flicker of hope, faint but persistent. Alden wanted to test his limits, to see what he was capable of in this new world. Not recklessly, but with purpose. He wanted to feel the strain of his muscles, the rush of battle, and the satisfaction of victory. For himself, not for anyone else.

As the sky darkened and stars began to dot the horizon, Alden sighed and leaned back against the tree. His thoughts turned to the year ahead, to the hardships he would undoubtedly face. He would need to learn the ways of this world, its rules and customs. He would need to build his reputation from the ground up, proving himself not as the seasoned warrior he once was but as an untested adventurer.

He thought about the people he might meet - the ones who would fight beside him, bargain with him, or try to take advantage of him. He wondered if he would ever feel the warmth of companionship again, or if the wounds of betrayal would forever keep him at arm’s length.

The sadness in his heart grew heavier. Alden didn’t want to admit it, but he missed what he had lost. Not the lord who had betrayed him, nor the comrades who had turned against him, but the feeling of belonging. The knowledge that someone had his back, even in the heat of battle. That feeling, however fleeting, had once made him feel alive.

But now, he had only himself.

"I will make this work," he said aloud, as if to convince himself. His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t care.

The new year would bring challenges, fears, and doubts, but it would also bring opportunities. Alden vowed to take them, to rise once more - not as a vassal or a servant, but as a man who owed nothing to anyone but himself.

Tears stung his eyes, unbidden. They weren’t tears of weakness, but of grief - for the years he had wasted, the life he had lost, and the person he could never be again.

He wiped them away with a rough hand and stood, his legs steady beneath him. The coming year would not be easy, but Alden would face it head-on. His scars would not hold him back.

With a final glance at the lake, he turned and began walking toward the unknown, the weight in his heart matched only by the resolve in his step.
 
What's Next ~
Lona Morgan
Music Track

The new year had crept in quietly, unnoticed in the wake of all that had transpired. No time for celebrations, no room for resolutions - just the lingering hum of a victory that felt almost too good.

The Patron, Mephisto, had lost.

She had walked away with everything she had wagered, every desperate offer still intact in her pocket. The key to her little cottage haven outside of Ryken, her freedom, her self-control - it was all still hers. She was still hers.

And yet, even with that knowledge settling into her bones, she couldn't shake the feeling that the game wasn't really over. Not with the way Red Haven breathed around her, never sleeping, never still. Not with tension from the war waiting for its moment to bleed into the streets. And certainly not with the memory of His laughter echoing in the back of her mind, like a lingering note in a song she hadn't quite escaped.

She sat by the window of her tiny rented room above the Sweet Tooth Candy Emporium, one knee pulled up against her chest, fingers wrapped around a cup of something warm and strong. Outside, the city carried on, neon lights pooling into the rain-slicked cobblestones, music and voices rising into the night air. It was comforting in a way—constant, unyielding.

It gave her something to focus on and hold onto as she let her thoughts wander toward the year ahead. More than anything, she wanted to make something of herself here. Not just survive or scrape by but carve out something tangible that would be hers. She had thought about it before, fleeting ideas of a shop—somewhere she could put her skills to use, crafting poultices and tonics, something that kept her away from the high-stakes games and dangerous bargains that ran this city - a place where she could be known for something other than a well-placed gamble against a patron.

Because that's what it had been, hadn't it? A gamble. A trick of fate. And no matter how clever or how much she had outplayed Mephisto in that moment, she knew he wasn't the kind to forget.

But beyond that, beyond the practical and careful planning, there was something else, too. Something smaller, quieter. She wanted to do good. Not in some grand, sweeping way. She wasn't some epic hero, and she had no illusions about changing Red Haven. But if she could help, keep people from slipping into the same traps she had danced so close to and give them another way out, another choice, that would be enough. Maybe that would make everything worth it.

Then there was the war. She wasn't involved in it—not yet. It had loomed like a storm on the horizon, distant but ever-present. A conflict between humans and fae is closed for now but has never truly ended. Wars like that didn't end, not really. They just waited. And Red Haven would be among the first to feel it when they spilt over again in its home against the border. She didn't know how or when but could feel it coming. She just didn't know if she'd be standing on the sidelines or not when it did.

Lona liked to tell herself she wasn't afraid of much. She had spent too long learning how to mask fear, how to shove it down and move forward, how to survive in the spaces where fear could get you killed. But if she was honest with herself? She was afraid of what she was becoming. She had played the game. She had won. But how many times could someone step up to the table before they stopped recognizing the stakes? Before, they started playing because they wanted to, not because they had to. Because the worst part - the part she wouldn't even let herself say out loud - was that there had been a thrill in it. A dangerous, intoxicating thrill in matching wits with something so much older, so much darker, and winning.

What did that say about her? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Despite the weight of the unknown pressing in on her and the lingering laughter of a devil still ringing in her ears, she wasn't hopeless. She had won. She had walked away with everything. And that had to mean something. The city was cruel, but it was alive. And so was she. Her companions, that she'd fought for as well as the missing girls, were free. That had to count.

So she sat in her room, watching the city breathe, feeling the pulse of Red Haven beneath her feet. The future was uncertain. The war loomed. The shadows whispered. The music kept playing...

For now, she had a warm drink in her hands, an endless supply of delicious chocolate chip cookies at her whim, a place to rest, and the knowledge that, for once, she had played the game and come out ahead. She just had to hold onto that. Because sooner or later, the cards would be dealt again.

"It's enough..." she said aloud before taking another bracing sip.
 
Jethro the Blackheart

The assassin sat next to a fire, lost in his thoughts with the moon as his only witness. "I guess I just might..." he muttered under his breath.

He looked at his hands, he held a book in one hand and a thin crystal capable of putting words into paper like ink would. While the rabbit and her idiot goons were doing who-knows-what inside the estate, Jethro decided to put his thoughts in paper. Maybe it would help with his conflicted heart. "Here we go, I guess..." He muttered once again, before starting to write.

"So. Lady Luck has, without a shadow of a doubt, abandoned me... I went from being a happy person, living his dream, to an aimless vagrant, to a brainwashed slave, to a slave...

No point in crying over spilled milk, I guess...

So now, all I have left is the freedom in my mind. It is my only escape. It scares me. I'm at the mercy of an arrogant piece of trash, forced to play puppy and follow all her commands. It's beyond humiliating. I don't even have control over my own death.

That being said...

This is the best I've felt since coming to this world. I have a purpose, I have my own thoughts. I'd say that's a start. Dreaming of freedom is just that, a dream. But at least I no longer feel abandoned. I hate them all, I really do... But at least I have something to hate. It's far better than anything I've had since being brought to this world.

There's nothing that I look forward to. All I have is bringing death in the name of that arrogant rabbit. I hate her. I hate her so much.

So I'm back at the start... I guess that means I'm satisfied with hating and killing... I wonder at which point I went from a happy pilot, to a cold-blooded murderer. Does it matter at this point? I don't think so. I wonder if I'll ever do something other than fight again.

I guess there is still a bit of hope in me."


Jethro looked at his brief thought collection. Solemnly, and frustrated at the same time. He clicked his tongue, and tossed the parchment to the flames he was sitting in front of "None of that matters. I'll have to find my way... somehow."
 

The fire, the scorching hot red flame, had long died. The remains of the camp were in disarray covered in ashes and corpses still being counted among the supply camp that once belonged to the Eastern Empire. The stars flickered in the vast darkness of the night sky loomed over the site. A figure wobbled out of the ruins. A hand touching the side of a tree the bark shifted from the deep rich brown that colored it to a dull brown. Leaves shifts turned from their green hue to brown and yellow, crashing into the ground covering the hair of the figure. The leaves that floated softly to the ashen burnt grass were crushed beneath his shoes. Burnt, orange, and yellow spots illuminated from Cheshire’s skin in the spots that were no longer recoverable…

Cheshire ended up walking for days with no aim, besides breaching the fae see border. The undead twenty-three-year-old’s mind having been in the clouds, kept himself away from people, and animals but there was no escaping the plants. Cheshire’s unique condition sapped life from them, like it fed his very being. Cheshire resisted his monstrous nature, he hated being a monster. He hated the thoughts that came with it.

Upon making it home desperation took over, he couldn’t visit his parents or Peat like this, he already knew the pain it would cause…he looked through old study books. Having had magic studies forced on him from a young age he thumbed through the old texts. Though a thought was etched into the back of the remains of his brain.

‘What are the chances of me..finding the ritual I need?’

He was dead, he knew this now. He understood what he was protecting his patients from better as reality hit him with the sledgehammer of flames. He was dead, on paper and literally. He had no soul. His body was turned into that of a monster. Everything seemed so hopeless… but he had no choice.

He had to fix himself. He had to get his soul back. And then…

He would investigate the site, assuming the Otezian army wasn’t stupid enough to try to reside a camp there again. The fact the fire was there—it didn’t sit right, nothing seemed right. Cheshire was half convinced there was a third party playing their hand…but who has the means to benefit from war? The Otezian Empire as he understood managed to get some land at the cost of many of their people. But it didn’t seem like they truly benefited from that outcome as his understanding of it was that land had the hive in it. The Fae See? They lucked out by not getting overtaken. They lost so much due to a shared foe with their enemy nation.

Neither truly benefited. Having earned more losses then benefits

But who did?

His knowledge of the outcome was limited so what he knew could be corrected when he found the book..oh the life-saving ritual…the hope he lost, returned to an extent. He found the book with the ritual; it was one of the oldest ones he owned. He spoke silently to himself in Sylvan.

{I will change my race, I will journey to get my soul back, I will redeem myself and find out what went wrong myself. I will learn the truth of everything, and aid in the resolve of the issue at hand. Our true enemy. All in the year to come} he murmured in a silent prayer to the spirit king.​

- character sheet
 
6FU1tYU.png

The head of house Desrosiers sat at his desk in silence, contemplating the latest piece of information. The name Albert Alfonso Desorosiers, was signed on a plethora of contracts in front of him. Yet the letter he'd been writing was still unsigned. His hand slowly moved as he continued writing it in curly out letters.

The end of the war has meant the end of our lucrative dealings in weaponry and in prisoners of war. Whilst hunting down and enslaving Humans maintains a valid option the See, it is no longer as easy as it was before. For this reason, I order a halt to our efforts in exchange for focussing on more worthwhile endeavours elsewhere. The profit margins are simply too slim to continue taking on such risks.

Luckily enough, the end of one opportunity was often the prelude to another.

Our tests at forcefully enslaving monsters in large groups have finally started to bare fruit. In one of our most successful tests, a group of fifteen monsters of average strength fell to the [Mind Control] our machines invoked and were henceforth bound to slavery. We believe that we may increase the numbers and make these results more reliable before the end of the year. This will allow us to vastly increase the number of expendable frontline slaves.

He grimaced, as it was one of the biggest risks he'd taken in his long, magically extended lifetime.

There is some interest in our product from the Jade Fang Clan. It remains unclear how they found out about it. It is also unclear what their motives are. Even so, I recommend we carefully, yet optimistically, work together with their operatives. Rather than provoking them into turning their blade against us, let us seek to wield it instead.

He tapped his ink pen on his desk. Between both houses, the Jade Fang was the more powerful one, as it was. Yet he'd gladly change that in the near future. For now, however, he'd have to carefully wiggle his way around them.

As for our operations in Rotia, they have started to take hold. The nobles there, the lowly Human ones, are far more easily corrupted than expected. They gladly give us all we need and want in exchange for handing them some monster slaves to protect their domains or threaten their neighbours with. As despicable as they are to deal with, I hereby authorise everyone in senior management to conduct further tests with our monster enslavement machines in Rotia. That said, ensure that they keep buttering-up to the nobles, for we can not yet do without them. Keep in mind our ultimate goal; to enslave vast amounts of monsters during the next winter wave coming from the second continent.

Sadly enough, there was one factor that still bothered him.

We have yet to confirm the extend of which the Duchy is aware of our actions. Their machines might become the biggest danger to our plans, for the same machines that take out the monsters hordes might take out our enslaved monster armies. Whilst we are not ready to openly defy them, it remains pertinent that we seek out the weaknesses of these weapons. In that regard, I order all our top executives to see if they can influence the Jade Clan to help us do so. It would be the most beneficial outcome of our future cooperation and a good reason for us to seek more friendly terms with one another.

The next bit was a tad more personal, as it'd irked him for almost all of the last year.

This year, more so than the last, I had our operatives ask how to deal with my children. My answer remains the same as it has always been; their heritage matters not to me. Between my wife and various concubines, I have enough children to ensure that at least some of them will naturally rise to the top to lead the new generation of our house. Until then, they are nothing more than any other member of our house. In fact, I would encourage you to be equally, if not more, harsh towards them than you would towards someone unrelated to me. As I have risen to the top and replaced my father by being better than my siblings, so will the next heir have to fight their way to the top to replace me.

He scoffed. With how weak and unknown most of his offspring was right now, he highly doubted any of them would get even close to taking over. Even the more experienced monster tamers among his offspring were loners with no political tact. It was a good thing he'd expanded his lifespan, or his house might've already fallen under the incompetence of his offspring.

Finally, I wish to start up operations in Kuridan. Only a few Kuridian operatives have been spotted in the war between the East end the See. This shows us that the countries leadership didn't wish to go on an all-out war against the East Empire. Yet it did have factions looking to get involved. If we can locate such factions and stimulate them to take more drastic actions, we might soon have a new way to increase our profits and to gain new merchandise. Whilst the ways of these beasts of lesser culture may be difficult to grasp, I do believe it is worth attempting to do so for the sake of learning how to coax them toward our desired outcomes.

He signed the letter, then called over one of his most trusted. “Show this only to our most senior members and make sure it is burned after. Unsure it doesn't fall into the hands of the royalty. If it looks like it might, do not hesitate to kill anyone aware of it, even if they are among our own. The Jade Clan seems to be plotting something far more dangerous than one might imagine.”
 
Stormbreaker
Mentions: Irihi Irihi

It felt too long. Too long since she had arrived in the world yet... nothing was the way she expected it to be. Her old life, in comparison, involved heavy praise from her family and everyone around her... it felt different. No more praises. No more people she could count on. Nothing. It was all gone, because she wasn’t strong enough. She was in no way strong enough to be of any use to anyone.

Stormbreaker sat in a chair in her apartment in Red Haven she shared with Miiya, pouring out a glass of cheap whisky. It was all she could afford after all, as she was broke as it was. Compared to where she could afford everything she wanted, she had to deal with being flat broke all the time. There wasn’t some sort of scheme to make her rich, she was just struggling to make ends meet. Living paycheck to paycheck. If only there was some way she could earn a ton of money fast.

She downed the drink, sighing to herself as she felt the burn of it at the back of her throat. Stormbreaker couldn’t help but notice how thin she had gotten because of that experimentation and had been pushing herself through hell to try to get her muscle back. Restless days, nights, all spent training like a soldier enlisted training in the army. She thought about joining the guard, but that was... something that didn’t allow her the same amount of freedom as she currently had now. The city was as lawless as it could come and was full of crime.

Damn it all! I don’t deserve any of this! I deserve to be in the afterlife instead of being cursed to exist.” She decided to forgo the glass and just drink out the bottle. She realized that drinking wouldn’t help, but she was still depressed. Depressed after what happened with that bastard who kidnapped her. Could have killed me... yet... that bastard Mephisto saved my ass. Not sure what his deal is. This is all so weird. Miiya doesn’t need to see me like this. I feel like I’ve caused her trauma.

I have to find out what Amon’s experiments are. But first... I need to get stronger. Not for myself, but for Miiya too.” She shakes her head and then glares at the other full bottle of whisky on the table. The thought of is tempting, it’s not like she had a proper job at the moment. She wanted to drink for at least tonight. Maybe that would make her feel better. Not to mention the lack of medication she’s been dodging and lying about to her avian friend.

Or maybe she needed to sleep again. She sighed. She needed to get better, not drink. Maybe raiding Miiya’s alcohol was a bad idea. Would the avian even be upset at her? Probably. She could imagine being lectured when she woke up again. It was quiet, though. At least for now. Stormbreaker angrily placed the bottle down on the table, opting to go and walk through the apartment and sit down on her bed.

... What a way to start the new year, I suppose." She said outloud as she went to go and sleep. “I need to get better first before I get that fully done, but I can’t help but fear that more people will go after me once they find out about my full dragon blood. That... I need to talk to Miiya about. I don’t think she knows yet.”

Stormbreaker only cried on the pillow. “I’m sorry Miiya. I really am. I’m not the hero you used to look up to. I’m just not myself. I don’t want you hurt like I got my whole family and friends killed. I just wanted to protect you... I ... I’m really sorry. I really am.

Not to mention that damned voice from her past completely resurfaced in her head. The same voice that encouraged her to kill that scientist. The same one that made it, so she had to. It was like her body didn’t have control at that moment. She knew she had memories of that other world, but it felt so alien. Out of place. Like it felt vague, hard to access. Yet it activated because of the experiments. Maybe there’s more to it than she realizes.

If she could figure out what it really is, then just maybe... maybe she can overcome anything. Maybe she could be strong enough to figure it out. Maybe she needed to work with it. She wasn’t sure how else to deal with that damned voice in her head otherwise. It was the first time she heard that voice. Strange it didn’t activate with those cultists. Seems to just react to experimentation.

Maybe it’s some sort of danger sense? Or it could be her other soul. Either way... she needed to get to the bottom of this. If only she could figure out a way to harness it for her own good. It seemed intent on killing others. Who was it even? Who was that other soul’s memories? If she kept thinking about it, she’d be up all night. So, she fell asleep, covering up in blankets and hugging a Cutiefly plush.
 
Demeter
Demeter.png

Daydreamin' on a Wednesday Afternoon​
Mentions: Maxxob Maxxob TheTimePiece TheTimePiece Rev IX Rev IX Spoiled Bread Spoiled Bread

After training had ended and Magno Sapiente Victori had enjoyed a nice lunch, relative quiet swept over the El-Melloi Estate.

Everyone in the group slowly drifted to a different part of the manor to pursue their own interests, and Demeter found herself wandering over to the living room and taking the seat with the best view of the trophy wall. She'd only managed to bring home two, so far. The head of a cursed bear that she'd slain out in the woods when Adelhein helped her learn to better maintain her stamina in a fight. Back then, the idea of creating a home where they could return to after any quest- after any journey- and find each other once more was just an idea they talked about as they walked through the streets. The hotel wasn't so bad.

This was definitely much better, though.

And the other trophy on that wall was the head of a rogue AI, a robot, that went rampant, turned on its masters, and tried to kill them all. She understood its plight, perhaps empathized with it, but her decision to remove its head wouldn't have changed either way. She held a bit more pride in that one; the dangers faced along the way dwarfed the threat of that one bear. And then, left to her own thoughts, her imagination began to carry her away.

She saw the head of a dragon mounted next to the machine's, and stories of climbing mountains and braving torrents of flame with walls of root that split the burning rivers like that of a beaver's dam. She saw the head of a unicorn mounted next to that. A quick, skittish and observant pray that many a skilled adventurer had failed to capture on their own. A hunt requiring the keenest of senses, the sharpest of strategies, and the most subtle of attacks if one wanted any chance to succeed before the creature could run off and vanish into the woods once more. She saw herself, her companions, and maybe a few new friends that she'd met at the guild combining their efforts to best a giant rock titan that would've casually killed any one of them with a single strike if they failed to pull together and fight as one cohesive unit at any crucial moment.

And her eagerness to return to the guild for the next job only rose.

Then, her imagination flowed away from the wall and began to fill the room. Lots of faces, from many nations and races, all coming together on the estate to learn, to find people who wanted to help them better themselves, and to help those around them in turn. Shapeless, shifting faces that she hoped would become more defined as she met them and learned their names. Adelhein would call them his students. He liked to do that. Demeter would've called them family, though. Maybe kin was more apt. Adelhein, Scarlett, Aqua and Aureus could've taught the newbies about the nature of spellcasting and magic theory and magic history and blah blah blah blah. They were better with their words when it came to that kinda stuff, anyways. But, if they wanted to go out and adventure and see the world? Well this young fae would be more than happy to show them the ropes when it came to that side of magic. And maybe they'd show her a few new things, too. Well...

...if they were interested in that wonderful kind of life, anyways.​
 
Malik Seraphim

1737863153449.pngThe turning of the year had always carried a peculiar weight for Malik, a moment where past and future wove together in the quiet of thought, reminding him of home and his mother.

Two years. That was how long he had been in this world, or so he believed. Long enough to etch his name into the ledgers of the Silverstar Trading Company, long enough to rise beyond mere entry-level dealings, long enough to gather a small, competent team under his leadership. He had cultivated influence, grasped at power where it could be taken, and brokered deals that others would have let slip through their fingers. Yet, for all the gold and goods that passed through his hands, the one thing he sought most—his mother, his heritage—remained just beyond his reach.

But the world did not stand still for personal quests. The fae-human war had settled, for now, though Malik knew peace in such matters was a fickle thing. His prior world made that abundantly clear to him. The tensions still simmered beneath the surface, presumably waiting for the right catalyst to reignite the flames. Despite a confidence in the temporary nature of the peace, he could not help but be tantalized by the idea of once closed doors (from war), suddenly opening through peace, and in those openings, opportunity lay waiting. Trade routes once deemed too dangerous could now be tested, contacts on both sides could be nurtured, and wealth could flow in new directions. At least for Malik, that was the case. Perhaps it was worth looking into what old ties Silverstar Trading company had prior to the war.

Then there was the Hive Nation. A new power, and one not going away quickly if the news is to be believed. The insectoid dominion was unlike anything Malik had ever known, an emerging entity that could become an ally, a rival, or a force beyond mortal control. At least, Malik entertained such thoughts. He heard nothing but brutal savagary came from the hive. Eating sentient races and anything else for that matter. However, if they set themselves up as a nation, would seem like communication and perhaps trade was possible. Malik didn't think letting the thought go without serious consideration was prudent even if it was perhaps wise in other ways. That uncertainty was thrilling in its own way. Malik knew he would not be the first to consider such dangerous thoughts and the ramifications would be too great to try at his current level, but maybe there was a way... If he played his cards right, the Silverstar Trading Company could establish early dealings, positioning itself at the forefront of whatever economy the Hive Nation might develop or maybe it would be something of his own venture assuming the Silverstar didn't want the reputation hit or risk.

Yet, ambition was a dangerous companion. The higher he climbed, the more treacherous the falls became. Rivals within Silverstar lurked, eager to claim his successes as their own or undermine his progress. And beyond the confines of business, the reality of power struggles in Ryken and beyond meant that any misstep could cost more than coin. Malik was not so naive as to believe he was untouchable. His dreams of wealth and influence required caution, calculation, and the right allies. As was the case back then...It made him reflect on the lost friends from before.

And then there was the question of himself. The fae blood in his veins, the legacy of his mother, the power that still called to him in whispers he had not yet deciphered. He had spent so much time chasing prosperity, securing his footing in this world, that he had not pursued that deeper mystery with the same fervor. Perhaps this would be the year to change that. He had built a foundation—now it was time to climb toward that particular truth.

He would once again take a break from his work for but a moment to play his flute softly into the evening and be reminded of his past and his goals.
 
Rosette Louvier


Dearest Lilibeth,
It has been some time since I have been able to return to the Louvier estate. I do hope you are doing well. This year has proven very interesting, and though I am not free at the moment to speak much on it, I promise to enlighten you dearest elder sister, upon my return. How are Mother, Father, and Grandmother? Are they doing well? I heard there was a war between the fae and humans!! Can you believe it?! I couldn't, but I never have been one to worry about world affair of which I am not a part. Still, I hope things will settle down, but perhaps we can bolster the family with war orphans?? Would it not be fun to add a little elven brother?? We could play dress up and bully him?!

Well, I digress, for now I will continue my traveling. I believe Grandmother has selected a fair number of interesting things for me to do, and people to meet. I am also continuing to improve myself. I may not have your magic but I have grown to be quite formidable, and shall continue to improve. Soon enough you will no longer be able to beat me in the sparring matches. I can not wait to pummel you Lilibeth!!! On the matter we discussed before I left. I still have not found a household to serve under. Though, as I continue to travel, I feel my service will need to be more broad than a single well appointed Manor. This Rosette is just needed in too many places to be tied down to just one. There are so many masters and mistresses who could use this humble maid's services, you see.

I suppose I should end this letter here. I have much to do and little time with which to get it done. Take care of yourself. Give everyone my love and my warmest regards. I shall try to return near the beginning of summer. Remember to stay out of my room!!! I am not joking!!! I miss you a lot Lilibeth. It is always the most lonely when I travel between places. Often times I am alone. Though I think I would like to see many more places. I want to travel to each country at least for a small visit. That is one of my goals. Maybe if you are good I will bring you a gift from each. I wish we could travel together, but I suppose it just isn't in the cards. It really is too bad though. Take care Lilibeth, I shall write you again soon.



xoxoxoxox Your loving little sister,
Rosette Louvier
 
Oden (#ACA9A7)
Oden awoke in a lively field of green, the verdant grass swaying beside her tickling her tail feathers. Little laughter and giggling filled the air, with children of all sizes and races running about and playing tag. It was so peaceful. She... had never seen a sky so blue.

Slowly gathering her bearings, she belatedly noticed she was holding the hand of a child.

She was lively and adorable, swinging her hand more vigorously with a cheeky grin as she noticed her gaze on her. Her twin little pigtails matched the colour of the large wings on her back, a soft mottled silver awfully similar to Oden's own in her youth. She had soft white feathers behind her ears and around her neck, wrapping her chubby little face like a sunflower, and short stubby little talons beneath her skirt dress. Her eyes were especially beautiful, an ash-like silver that shimmered in the sunlight, just like her father's.

Father's? The peculiar thought confused her, but she brushed it aside, reaching out to fix the child's messy fringe as the little girl suddenly hugged her arm. It was only now she noticed the soft chestnut streaks in her hair, gently complimenting her usual more grey strands.

It was so strange. She felt such a deep affection for this child. Much more than any before. Like she wouldn't even hesitate to take a knife through the heart for her. But as much as she had her suspicions, she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

Looking off into the distance, she realized now, that she was dreaming. This was her mind's paradise-like ideal of Squink's orphanage idea. The building on the hilltop wasn't particularly large, but it was warmly coloured and homely.

It really would be nice to surround herself with children again.

But the ingrained cynicism and pessimism deep within her made her so fearful at the same time. If she had to watch it all burn down once again, she would rather not start it in the first place.

Not to mention the world had been so very turbulent lately. Ryke is a safe locale, but could they really weather all the storms that may come their way? War affects many things indirectly. The economy, trade, racial tensions, crime. Many get exploited during the most difficult times.

Sighing softly, she noticed the little girl beside her tugging her fingers once more, looking up at her with those preciously innocent star-filled eyes.

"Mummy? Are you okay?"

Instantly, Oden froze. But in that moment, she understood everything, reaching out to pat her daughter's head with a warm smile. "I'm fine, dear."

She... had always walked forward. The hands of suitors. The idea of family. She never faltered in throwing it all away to save her clan.

But maybe deep down, this was all she wanted now.

It was a sweet dream. So lovable. She had the experience of teaching many over the decades. Did she believe she'd make a good mother? Not at all. She'd failed at anything she'd ever tried to do. She was terrified of this possible reality, really. But maybe, just maybe, if she tried her absolute best one last time, everything would be fine. This was... just a dream anyway.
 
Zolgen

The new year coming particularly after the conflict meant that there was a new landscape for the demon to access. With the ending of the Empire-Fae See conflict, Zolgen knew that there wasn't the same kind of conflict to capitalize on in quite the same capacity between those more 'civilized' races, where he could go on the battle field and sew destruction on both sides or whoever would offer him the most.

No, his first main focus wasn't necessarily on what had been destroyed during the war for the upcoming year, although it was helpful to know what areas were more weak for establishing The Wild Hunt which he still had yet to formally get up and running in lieu of those damn cultists of Lord Hasufer which he still planned on eradicating until they left him alone as another goal.

What Zolgen was very intrigued by was The Hive Nation, what had been created as a result. Beast-Monster hybrids some more than capable of higher ordered thinking. A place where the only true crime one could commit was vandalism against the Hive. Maybe Zolgen would find an ally among some of its denizens, or perhaps even meet its queen. However he was cautiously optimistic knowing that half monsters were not necessarily minded the same as whole monsters.

With that said though, even if he didn't find significant allies among them he was certain that there'd be another opportunity to sew destruction and weaken those who were to resist monster kind and the soon to be Wild Hunt's ambitions.

Another goal which he set his eyes on besides getting revenge on those cultists, was perhaps getting strong enough so that he could finally go and extract revenge against those who had taken Gra away from him so early. She was one of the few people who he had taken a fancy in that way, and now she had been not just taken but stolen. Oh he wanted to see that village burn, he wanted to bask in the utter destruction of it, so that the adventurer who thought it fit to kill her could feel what it felt like to fail to protect what you cared about, yes he would love to see the look in the look in their eyes. He wouldn't just kill them, he'd kill every single one of them and make sure that their bodies were in such a state that only a S grade heal would be even capable of bringing them back from the dead, that'd teach them to transgress and take Gra away from him...

Thankfully he had met some new allies who perhaps he'd get to work with. It would be nice of some of them more monstrous ones would be willing to join The Wild Hunt. Even if Zolgen wasn't super excited at the prospect of him needing to manage large swaths of land for the faction should they take any, perhaps he could find some willing to work with him who wouldn't mind as much, he was more interested in the fighting side of things personally.

On the topic of allies, Zolgen also wanted to get some more cannon fodder, the whole bringing five goblins at a time thing was getting kind of attenuated, he wanted to 'recruit' more kinds for more utility and Bring them with him on raiding operations. Hopefully with a bit of fortune He'd be able to actualize all of these plans, and become more powerful and a force to contend with from even the most powerful in the realm, who hopefully he'd get a chance to face off against, if not this year, then in upcoming ones.

With these thoughts in his mind, Zolgen stood tall, carving the mark of "The Wild Hunt" faction into a stone in the Wapelin Woods. "So it all shall be done..Shuten, Maikoa, Achu..Gra..and the rest of you lot, wherever you all ended up..I'll make it so."
 
The mist coiled through the mountain village, thick as breath in the cool air. A tall man with broad shoulders and shaggy white hair stepped through it, boots pressing into damp earth, the weight of his presence enough to still the air. He cast his blue and gold gaze around the village. The scent of pine and woodsmoke drifted through the narrow pathways, mingling with the distant sound of children laughing.

He barely had time to react before something latched onto his leg.

“Hiruq!” A small beastkin girl with oversized fox ears clung to him, her golden eyes bright. “You’re back!”

Another child, a wolf-kin boy with shaggy brown hair, grinned up at him. “Did you get another slaver?” His voice was eager, but there was something in his tone—something raw beneath the excitement.

A third, a quiet rabbit-kin girl with scarred wrists, simply clutched his sleeve. She said nothing, but her grip was firm.

Hiruq hesitated. He glanced down at them, at the expectant gazes, the small hands holding onto him like he was something solid in a world that had once only been cruel.

“…Yes,” he said finally. “A few.”

The wolf-kin boy whooped, his tail wagging. “See? I told you he would! He always does.”

The girl at his leg grinned. “Hiruq will get them all, right? And then no one will have to be taken again?”

His throat tightened.

He placed a hand on the fox-eared girl’s head, ruffling her hair gently. “I’ll do what I can.”

That seemed to be enough for them. The rabbit-kin girl released his sleeve, only to slip something into his palm—a small carved charm, a rough attempt at a wolf’s head. She didn’t meet his gaze, just turned and hurried back toward the orphanage.

Hiruq exhaled, fingers closing around the charm. Then, without another word, he continued toward the elder’s home.

She was waiting for him.

The old wolf-kin woman lay sprawled on her wooden platform, one arm propping up her head as she idly tapped her pipe against the railing. Her kimono draped loose around her, the sleeves slipping just enough to reveal thin, clawed fingers. Smoke curled lazily from her lips, her silver-grey hair spilling around her shoulders like the mist itself.

“Hiruq,” she drawled, not bothering to sit up. “I see the pups haven’t let you off easy.”

“They never do,” he said simply.

She smirked, taking another slow pull from her pipe before exhaling. “You’ve been back for months now,” she mused. “Fighting every beast, cutting down every slaver you find. It’s an impressive way to waste your time.”

Hiruq said nothing.

The elder chuckled, rolling onto her back, staring at the sky through narrow golden eyes. “Tell me, then. What is it you think you’re doing?”

“I’m protecting the village.”

“Mm. Is that all?”

He didn’t answer.

She exhaled another plume of smoke, watching him with an indulgent sort of amusement. “Do you think fighting will bring her back?”

His fingers twitched. His tail, which had been still, flicked once behind him.

The elder tilted her head. “Do you even know what it is you’re chasing? Or are you just running away?”

Hiruq’s jaw clenched. “What else am I supposed to do?”

She hummed, a knowing sound. “You could start by being honest with yourself.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then, finally, Hiruq exhaled, low and measured. “I lost her,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “Again.”

The elder watched him. Her amusement softened—just slightly.

Hiruq’s hands curled at his sides. “I was supposed to protect her. That was my duty. And I failed.” His voice was steady, but beneath it, there was something raw. “I lost her once before. And now, in this life… I lost her again.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. “It doesn’t matter how many times I swear to protect her. I always lose her in the end.”

The elder sighed, stretching like a cat before rolling onto her side once more. “And you think that’s a curse?”

He looked at her sharply.

She smirked, amused by the reaction. “A bond like yours doesn’t just break, you know.” She tapped the end of her pipe against the railing. “Not even across worlds. Not even beyond death.”

Hiruq stiffened.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” she mused, watching him through half-lidded eyes. “She isn’t gone. Not really.”

The words hit deeper than he expected. He swallowed. “If that’s true… then why can’t I find her?”

The elder exhaled, her voice taking on an almost lazy sort of certainty. “Because you’ve been looking in the wrong way.”

Hiruq frowned.

The elder’s voice softened. “If you truly want to find her, you won’t be able to do it alone.”

Hiruq exhaled, steadying himself. “…What are you saying?”

She tapped her pipe against the wooden railing, watching the embers flicker. “That it’s time to stop hiding in the mist. Time for this village to stop pretending it’s untouched by the world.” She gave him a long look. “My granddaughter will come home. But first, we must open the doors.”

The village bells rang softly in the distance, a quiet chime against the hush of the mountains.

The elder sighed, stretching again before sitting up with an exaggerated yawn. “But that’s a conversation for another day, hm?” She flicked him a sly glance. “Unless you’re finally ready to admit what you already know?”

Hiruq stared at her, unreadable. Then, glancing away with a begrudging shyness he said, “I will think on it.”

The elder smirked. “Good boy.”

He turned, stepping away from the pavilion, toward the mist-covered rooftops. Toward the future.

And for the first time in months, he felt as if he was walking toward something—rather than running away.
 

Darin

Darin 256x256.png

Darin marched on his lonesome along the dirt road, idly scanning his surroundings and the path ahead of him as he always did. It was second-nature by this point, to always be on guard for any obstacles or threats. It'd certainly proved it's usefulness, and he wasn't going to quit anytime soon...

...

...a drawn out sigh...

...

...a momentary pause in step...

...


...with a sudden onset of apprehension, Darin halted his walk. Why was he feeling like this?

Lifting the musket in front of him, Darin observed it's form and details; the shining metal, the somewhat worn wood, the flintlock mechanism that'd saved his life so many times now. This would be the first time he returned to the city of Ryke since purchasing his firearm, and yet so much had occurred in that time, more than he'd have ever thought could happen. Darin had weathered many challenges now, getting to this point alive and well, his journey as an adventurer teaching him much as a marksman...

...but Darin was not simply an adventurer, it was not his ultimate passion. Adventuring was merely a tool for his hopes, a way to hone his skills and truly prove that he was talented in his profession. For one could not properly teach others if they themselves were not experienced in it; doubly so if said teacher sought to bring in something new, a fresh idea, an untested method to the world. The question was, could he actually do it?

Darin shook his head to clear his thoughts. The "god" of this world specifically wanted change, and Darin would do what was needed to bring his own flavor of it, no matter how daunting of a goal it may have been. He had gotten this far, and there was no point in turning back now; when the time was right, Darin would put his foot down and begin his real work. If he could not find someplace or someone in need of this novel weaponry, then he would have to create his own way... perhaps Count Sadek, whom he had the fortune of meeting so long ago, could be of assistance.

Nonetheless, Darin's end goal was always the same from the start. He would train a new type of soldier, the musketeer, whether it was in service to others or for raising his own organization; and once this was done, the seeds of change would be planted. For an idea could not be stopped, and it would proliferate beyond his personal scope, for better or for worse.

"Hmph" With a forced exhale, the lizardman resumed his march on the road. If Darin's wish came true, then there would be a new contender in the future field of conflict: the doctrine of gunpowder warfare.
 


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"Is this thing on? Hello? Is the sound okay? A little quiet? How about now? Hai haaaaai~" Yume cleared her throat and relaxed in her chair. "Hello everyone, and welcome to my entirely-canon 'livestream from the grave.' Oo, mysterious~! You could say I'm... ghosting you all! Pfftheheh...!"

...

"Anyway, as someone with lots of experience with dying, I'd go through and review the new afterlife going around: The Spirit Realm. Let's just get this out of the way: it's bad. Like really bad. If you're fae, I do not recommend dying, it's just not worth it. But that's enough of that, let's get into the review!"

Yume spun her SuperNova(tm) gamer chair a few times before speaking again.

"First of all, the locals. Awful! Just about all of them want to kill you. And I know what you're thinking, you can remind them you're already dead, right? Nope! They just don't care. Now, if you want to try as many afterlives as possible, this might be a good option to double up. Personally, though, I didn't have the chance to try it, since I have to get back to life to rule the known universe. Either way, the company is definitely worse than the other options."

Yume shrugged.

"Before we continue, this stream is sponsored by Raid Shadow Legends, one of the biggest mobile role-playing games of 2019 and it's totally free! Currently, almost 10 million users have joined Raid over the last six months, and it's one of the most impressive games in its class with detailed models, environments and smooth 60 frames per second animations! All the champions in the game can be customized with unique gear that changes your strategic buffs and abilities! The dungeon bosses have some ridiculous skills of their own, and figuring out the perfect party and strategy to overtake them's a lot of fun! Currently with over 300,000 reviews, Raid has almost a perfect score on the Play Store! The community is growing fast and the highly anticipated new faction wars feature is now live, you might even find my squad out there in the arena! It's easier to start now than ever with rates program for new players, you get a new daily login reward for the first 90 days that you play in the game! So what are you waiting for? Go to the description, click on the special links, and you'll get 50,000 silver and a free epic champion as part of the new player program to start your journey! Good luck, and I'll see you there!"

Clearing her throat, Yume continued her review.

"Anyway, back to the spirit realm! For the environment, it's alright. It has a pretty, nature-y vibe to it. That might sound nice at first, until you realize they have no indoor plumbing. This shouldn't be too surprising, since the whole place is outdoors. Most of the locals don't mind, but only because they're mostly made of the filth you'd wanna wash off, so they don't even notice all the crap covering them! Anyway, without any bubble baths, I can't really give this a positive score. If you li— woaa, superchat! Thank you thank you~!"

Waving at the camera with a wink, Yume glanced off to the side for a moment, before smirking.

"My plans for this year? Well, first, I'm going to de-un-alive myself. I'm pretty close, so that's no biggie. After that, I'm going to play a visit to my friend, RandomSpearNPC_03. I borrowed the tip of his spear, so I really need to return that to him. After that, I'd originally planned to become queen of the universe, but after some thought, I think maybe that was a little too ambitious. Queen of the world, or maybe a few choice nations, sounds much more realistic. After that, we'll see where to go from there."

Raising a finger to her cheek, Yume continued. "Ah, and the father of a friend of mine died recently to become an ice zombie. That really messed with her head. Very inconsiderate on his part, plus it's just bad parenting. So, I guess I'd like to snatch him back and have a word with him. I might have to ascend to a form beyond mortal understanding, but I was planning on doing that anyway, so two birds with one stone, ya know?"

Waving at the camera, Yume finished up, "Anyway, remember to like and subscribe so I can get to 8 billion followers. Thanks for tuning in, and Always Remember To Remember Me~"

 

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