The Aether Chronicles: Convalesce

[Delta]

The universe consists of three known realms; Earth, Andere, and Refnir. These three realms are situated similarly to their previous listing, despite not being set in any describable direction. What is known, however, is that Andere rests in the middle of Earth and Refnir.


Andere is the manifestation of the lost souls of Earth; it's very landscapes take on the form of compiled fantasies by those who now inhabit it. Andere shifts and twists constantly and in a never-ending fashion, although distinct differences in terrain make up Andere's seven Spheres. A simple and unassuming railroad system know simply as the Soul Transit serves as the stitching that binds the Spheres together, as well as the only transportation for the spirits of Andere to move from one Sphere to another.


Earth is, well, Earth.


No human nor soul has ever been known to enter the Realm of Refnir, so no one can say for certain what the plain of existence is like. The inhabitants of Refnir are demonic beings, having a myriad of forms, ranging from humanoids to snarling beasts. Refnir and Earth are polar opposite existences, so one cannot exactly describe the other using their knowledge; to humans, Refnir would be described as a land of both darkness and fire, as advanced as Earth's Medieval time period, whilst the environment of humans would dazzle any resident of Refnir with its complex technology, culture, and nature of all different assortments.


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Throughout history, there are tales and documents of groups and organizations such as witch-hunters, exorcists, and many others that, while having varying names and skill sets, all shared the same goal; to rid their lands of supernatural and monstrous beings and entities. However, today shines light on a new organization that works to return malevolent spirits back to the afterlife, which was discovered to be known as Andere, by spiritually-gifted humans that take on the title of Shaman. The Shamans are humans that can see and interact with spirits and other creatures foretold of in nursery rhymes and fantasy tales. We shall focus on the Shaman branch located in the New England territory of the United States of America, in the bustling ocean city of Helvet Coast. Lately, spirits show signs of grim horror plaguing the lands of Andere; so for the first time in Shaman history, the Shamans will have to enter the Spirit World and purge the lands of whatever horrors endanger it. Entering Andere is done so by means of an ancient shrine located high in the wooded hills just outside of Helvet Coast, which is occupied by the Shrine Maiden known as Gwendolyn, an even more ancient being who helps guide those traveling to the Spirit World.


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Character Sheet:


Name:


Age:


Species:


Appearance:


Personality:


History:


Weapon(s):


Other:


(Primarily quirks that set your character apart. Flaws/Strengths. Weaknesses/Phobias. Y'know, stuff like that)

Just a picture I wanted to add of the different Spheres. Nee said she'd go about explaining each Sphere in a post, so power to her.


-Don't eat Eli's snacks


-Nee's word is law


 
@EliCarter


@Sabrina


Just put yo character shit here, and we'll get this show on the road!

 

[Sabrina]

Character Sheet:


Name: Gwendolyn


Age: Indeterminable


Species: Shrine Maiden


Appearance: Despite calling herself a Shrine Maiden, Gwendolyn has always been a fan of the flashy witch appearance.

Personality: Gwendolyn's mood and interests seem to vary more often and more immensely than the dark New England waters crash against the jagged rocks, which can be extremely dangerous, given the Maiden's illimitable destructive power.


History: Gwendolyn has walked the Earth since it was nothing more than fresh dirt, planting the first acorn and growing the first tree. She has taken on many different forms and names, and often portrays habits and decisions that came from the judgment of her previous reincarnations. No, she did not originally start off as a Shrine Maiden. Gwendolyn has played the role of adviser to mighty kings, powerful commander to battle-hardened legions, omniscient mystic, and many other deeds that the winds no longer whisper. More recently in history, Gwendolyn came across the revelation that she sought isolation, to be at one with herself and not deal with the needs of others. So what else would someone do besides set up a Shinto shrine high in the Northeastern coast forests of Maine? Having done so, Gwendolyn branded herself a Shrine Maiden, and then looked over the bustling city of Helvet Coast, from which the mountains of her shrine loom over. It was not long after that that Gwendolyn found a young boy, whom she guessed was no older than 8, wandering up the dilapidated stone steps that led to her dwelling. The aura about the boy polluted the chilled air with a sensation that Gwendolyn knew all too well, and it was because of that very sensation that Gwendolyn took an interest to the lad. The boy visited everyday for what Gwendolyn guessed was about 3 weeks (having been around since the dawn of Man, the entity has a much different grasp on time than mortals do) before he stopped visiting. Many years passed before the Shamans came seeking her guidance to Andere to help with the Spirit Worlds rising troubles. Gwendolyn complied with their requests and agreed to assist them, following what the humans call 'a gut feeling' that the boy would somehow be involved in these affairs, and in hopes that she could somehow reunite with her first visitor.


Weapon(s): Gwendolyn, over the eons, has acquired a plethora of powerful weapons and artifacts of legend both foretold of and forgotten. If one manages to survive the likes of Excalibur and Gungnir, Gwendolyn also possesses a multitudinous array of complex magic at her disposal.


Other: As time goes on and society advances, so too do Gwendolyn's interests. Serving many roles throughout the workplace of Helvet Coast in order to keep an eye on everything has landed the habit of video games on Gwendolyn. Because of this, she often looks at situations from the perspective of a given console title. Gwendolyn also has a habit of playing with the emotions of others for entertainment.


(I apologize that my skele is unsightly to read. I'm very lazy and frustrated that I'm having to redo this a third time over.)

 

[EliCarter]

Name: General Maxence Iblis, The Blaze of Condemnation, Flame's Wrath


Age: Physically; 17 Mentally/Emotionally; 17 In Reality; A century or two.


Species: Flame Demon inhabiting a succubus' body.


Appearance:

Spoiler

-Max is 5'3" in this form; and weighs around 121 lbs.


-Both her hair and eyes are a bright fire engine red.


Personality:


Max, a successful threat to Andere, has plagued the many fortunate lands that exist to demons and succubus alike, because of this, she has developed a very large ego, and her sense of pride is unmatched by most others her age. She carries herself with a masculine "grace", and frequently fails tests of character and vanity, though, when it boils down to it, she's never textbook "evil" or "malicious". It's pretty much just arrogance and childish behavior.


History:


Centuries before she was stuck in the weak and pitiful body she is now, General Maxence's name was known among all the demons that inhabited the Andere, in his original body, he was a he, and he was feared. With the ability to summon "hellfire" at his will and his position as leader of the flaming shades, creatures of his creation, many lands of the Andere saw their demise at his hand. Proud and willing, General Maxence set his eyes on a larger target, Azriel, self proclaimed demon king, and his large "kingdom". At first the king met Maxence's army with his own, demanding the opposing demon's head, but it was clear that Maxence's power was greater than his own. At the advice of his counsel, Azriel designed a "gift" for the great general, to plead for mercy, but the gift, a charm carved of stone, instead sealed Maxence, allowing Azriel's kingdom 1,000 years of peace.


The demon king knew that when the 1,000 years were up, Maxence would be angry, and his anger would be focused on him, and his entire kingdom, so, in order to ensure his safety, he used the body of his youngest daughter, a weak succubus, to seal the general. Confused, Max rose again, finding that she couldn't channel the power she used to have, yet, due to the combined nature of the daughter and her previous form, she wasn't as angry as she thought she'd be. For 3 years, she lived with the king, acting as a "royal guest", before she realized revenge was in order.


As she prepared to act, she found herself within the custody of the demon king's guards, unable to put up a fight with her greatly weakened body, she was captured, and exiled, and left alone to her own devices.


Weapon(s):


-Kruncher- Max's favorite battleaxe, a two-handed weapon that shifts into a whip when not in use, not that Max knows how to use a whip for combat, anyways.


-Assorted Abilities-

• Fireball: When she has drained enough energy, Max is able to launch a fireball about the size of a tennis ball at her enemies, while not much in force, it will still catch things on fire, though it is hard to gather enough energy for her to create one.
  
• Ignite Arms: A more common attack for Max, seeing as it's easier to gather enough energy to do this, the flames expand from her forearms downward, and on average she can hold this for around 5-8 minutes.
  
• Levitate: This is actually something Max does quite often, as it requires very little energy, the highest she can hover is about three feet off the ground, anything higher and she'll be working off of major energy, which is quite dangerous, seeing that she could pass out in mid-air.
  
• Life Force Drain: In order to survive, as a succubus, Max must kiss a human to feed off of them, or, in return, share her energy with them. Different people have different tastes to their energy, depending upon the succubus' tastes themselves, though, if Max doesn't feed, her energy depletes rapidly.
  

Other:


Weaknesses: Cold temperatures; If they are low enough, Max will slip into a forced hibernation like state, and if not warmed up, or removed from the situation, she could die. Weapons anointed with strong faith; while the faith doesn't have to be religious, though most of the time they are, these weapons will burn her. Purging Circles; If a purging circle is drawn around Max and invoked, she is put under a painful pressure and is rendered immobile.





Strengths: Resistance to heat; Max has little to no difficulty adapting to high temperatures, she prefers them, in fact. Increased strength; Max can lift twice her body weight above her head, unless weakened by a lack of feeding. Close Combat/Weapon Proficiency; Max is skilled in close combat and able to use most weapons, though that is not to say she is good with those weapons.


Quirks

• Max is rather embarrassed about her new found attraction to men, and, despite her vanity, her new female body.
  
• Max enjoys sleeping, and she sleeps a lot, on whatever she finds comfortable and warm, like heaters, freshly folded laundry, car hoods, sun spots, and people.
  
• Being a weak succubus, Max doesn't have the normal abilities that going along with her species, including shape shifting, wings, or the ability to "seduce and charm".
  
• Max sucks at following directions.
  
• Max enjoys sweet foods and enclosed spaces, and whatever she, at that moment, deems "interesting".
  

 

[Delta]

Name: Fenrir Adalbert Faust (goes by Faust)


Age: 17


Species: Human


Appearance:

Spoiler

Personality:


Faust is certainly an odd character, to say the least. He confides his happiness and emotions in a select few people, and gives the rest of the world the cold shoulder. Practically living alone, Faust is an incredibly independent person, and will not share his problems or struggles with anyone he knows has troubles of their own. He is a generally cold person, not in a 'I hate the human race' way, but more of a 'I don't need to interact to achieve my goals' way.


History:


There isn't much to say about Faust, really. Ever since the news came to an 8 year old Faust that his parents car swerved off the intersection and into the black Atlantic, Faust began seeing things that- obvious enough to even a small child- other people did not see. The revelation occurred when Faust went on his first stroll in his new home of Helvet Coast, following the sidewalk from his aunt's apartment complex to the outskirts of the city, and managed up a grassy hill path that he would not had normally have seen, had he not been guided by some invisible hand of certainty. Faust was sure no one had followed this trail, but he was convinced that he needed to. The boy did not look up from his untied sneakers until the dirt turned into cracked marble. What lay before him was an ancient red building-like structure that he had seen among the magazines in his aunt's office; a Shinto shrine. Faust stood in place, awestruck by the beauty of the structure, Faust stood in place until a witch stepped out of the shrine with a broom. The witch was a beautiful and young one, with long primrose hair that almost draped down to the kept-skirt she wore. Still, Faust could not bring himself to run; oddly enough, the witch did not scare him.


"Uh... can I help you?" The witch asked. It came as a surprise to Faust that she did not speak in the crackly voice that most evil witches did. She talked like a normal older girl.


"Nope." He responded, not knowing what else to say. The witch had paused, taking one last sweep of her broom before resting both hands on the end of the broom and leaning on it as she observed him with a curious glance.


"How did you get here?" She asked.


"Not sure." Faust managed. "I kinda just, y'know, ended up here"


The girl laughed, and invited him into the shrine, for what Faust was surprised to hear was an invitation to play the old Nintendo. Faust never thought witches played Nintendo, but he didn't question; power to em, he thought. All the sorrow had drained from Faust, and was replaced by the sensation of jubilation and friendship. Faust thought his aunt would be worried about him if he stayed any longer, so he bid the witch good day and promised that he would come back tomorrow. The witch followed Faust to the breaking of the treeline, and together they gazed out on all the city of Helvet Coast. Faust waved again and ran down the hill.


Before Faust was about to press the buzzer that would send an annoying noise up to his aunt, signalling his wish to enter, hewitnessed a girl his age push over the neighbor's trashcan in broad daylight, which did not bother the lad; what HAD bothered Faust, however, was as the neighbor, dressed in a light bath robe, came strolling across the short-cut grass and complained about how strong the wind was, the girl turned to Faust, and smiled with what few teeth she had on what little of her face was intact. The young one's face was half decayed, charred flesh hung from the girl's face as the golden pig-tail that wasn't burnt off did not sway in the wind that struck Faust for the first time that day. Faust, having been drained of most emotions over the recent news (as a matter of fact, it happened not but 6 hours sooner) of his parents' demise, did nothing but blink, the walking corpse had disappeared from the yard by the time his hazel eyes opened up once more. Similar occurrences began happening, but none of it bothered Faust at all. He was not even curious as to how the dead could reanimate and do the bidding of what Faust was taught was the doing of Mother Nature without anyone so much as looking at them. Months passed, filled with forest adventures and explanations of what exactly Faust was seeing supernaturally; all of which came from the witch. Any time Faust asked what the witch's name was, the witch would flash him a grin and say she forgot. Life was good, until middleschool came along and he could no longer find the invisible path on the outskirts of the city as he walked home from school; the familiar parting of trees was shrouded by wood.


Faust just wanted to carry on with his life; and he did so, up until the point he hit 9th grade, and he met a girl named Luise Lamm, who quickly became his best and closest friend. The girl was a dunce, but she had a heart of gold and the most gorgeous emerald eyes, and easily melted through Faust's cold wall he put up. What made them so close was the fact that she too saw what Faust was convinced only he could see. It wasn't long after that that Luise convinced him to join a group with her, a group claiming to also see and interact with the supernatural entities. They called themselves the Shamans, and Faust had to admit that it had a pretty nice ring to it. As a Shaman, he actually spoke to the spirits and guided them back to their world, which he soon learned was called Andere. The Shamans were thoroughly impressed with his ability to speak to the entities, having successfully helped more spirits than almost everyone else he knew in the organization that month.

It was two years later, when Faust was a Junior at Helvet Coast High, that the grim signs traveling the wind whispered their foreshadowing to him. Luise was troubled by it as well, and it seemed that their feelings were shared among the entire Helvet Coast Branch of Shamans, too. As preparations to travel to Andere reached closer and closer to being finished, Faust couldn't help but wonder (and hope) that the witch he learned so much from was somehow involved in the scheme of things.


One night, Faust woke up to the cold coastal breeze numbing his cheeks. Pale moonlight poured in through the window, as Faust rolled out of bed to close the window again. Again. Faust felt a shiver run down his spine as the word echoed in his head. The boy spun on his heels, fists raised as his eyes scanned the dark room meticulously. Faust didn't open that window, and he knew it. It was about the time that he did that that he was caught off guard by feminine laughter. With a clap of hands other than Faust's, the bedroom lights flickered into full luminance. Sitting on his bed, slim legs folded and pointed hat jutted, was the witch from nine years ago. Faust didn't know what to do, standing paralyzed in place like the first time he saw her. He seemed to gain control of his body as the familiar laugh filled his ears once again.


"Hey champ, did ya miss me?" The witch grinned, dressed in the same flashy outfit she wore all those years ago.


"More than you know." He responded, failing to suppress a smirk.


"Well you'll be dealing with me a lot now." The smile left the witch's face, and was replaced by a more serious facial expression. "I can only assume you know of the signs of danger that have been dancing in the breeze lately, yes?"


"You're talking about Andere, right?"


"Yes. Unfortunately, the signs are true. Under-exaggerating, even. That's why I've come to you. The Shamans are running missions in the Spirit World as we speak, but I'm afraid that their strength alone won't be enough; that is why I come to you, boy."


Before he could say anything or ask why his strength would make any difference, he noticed that there were a bundle of clothes neatly folded in the witch's hands.


"Take these. They are the equipment of an organization your mortal textbooks choose to overlook. They will bestow power onto you that you otherwise would not possess."


Faust quickly put on the attire over his t-shirt and athletic shorts, noting how light the large coat was as he strapped the metal vambraces into place on his arms. "So, how do I look?"


"Simply marvelous. If only evil was vanquished by looks." The witch snickered.


"So now what?"


"We train."


"But where? My aunt is sleeping."


The witch smiled a grin bigger than any other he had previously seen.


"Andere, of course."


Weapon(s):


Faust chooses to fight with his body; a whirling combo of fast kicks and strong punches in fluid motion. The vambraces on his arms have the power to manipulate aether, although he is still practicing how to properly use their true power.


Other:


-Faust loves to eat. All the training he's done with the witch has worked up a permanent appetite in him; battling makes him forget his hunger for food, and replaces it with a hunger for a good fight.


-Faust has a tender heart beneath his cold exterior, and has a love for nature that would make most people question his true passion.


-Faust has a weakness for females, despite the only people he talks to being females. They make him uneasy, especially when they're lovey-dovey.

 

[EliCarter]

Fury coursed through Max in violent waves, forcing her to shiver as the pent up aggression sought different ways to escape her body. She wished she had her helm, those disgusting guards would not have an ounce of flesh upon their hands when she was done with them. She wished she could call upon her flames of condemnation once more, and roast their skin until it boiled off of their bones. And most of all she wished that these damn heels would make the satisfying CRUNCH in this damn road that a boot fit for a general would make.


Of course, she had a plan, she always did, it would be surprising for someone of her caliber to not have a plan. Now, carrying out that plan would be the difficult part, seeing as she had nothing. Nothing but the whip on her hip and the clothes on her back. It brought a sense of discomfort to her, a feeling she wasn't used to, her pride in herself always had a way of cushioning these feelings, and now they had stripped her of even that.


The cobblestone road that led out of Azriel's kingdom seemed much longer now, spanning outward and away from her, reaching outward to a length she could never walk, lined by buildings she'd never be able to enter and faces that she would never see again.


If only she had a bit more time to dwell in self-pity before a distinct pressure slammed into her from above, in fact, she didn't even remember hitting the ground. But it was easy to come to the conclusion that everything hurt and pain was not something she was used to receiving, she clenched her teeth, preparing to release the mighty roar her ancestors had used before her to indicate battle was inevitable, but all this pitiful body could produce was a squeak of discomfort. She inhaled, trying to inflate her lungs again, but the heavy object on top of her hadn't moved, and she could only suck in but so much oxygen.


"Who DARES strike the Blaze of Condemnation!? The Flame's Wrath!? The SINGLE creature that brought this city it's knees OVER and OVER again!? Sur-surely you mu-must be s-suicidal!" Max hacked, wheezing as she ran out of breath.

 

[Delta]

No dreams filled Faust's head as he slept. No wisps of imaginations drifted through for his mind to wander about and shift in a fashion that only dreams seemed to be able to do. His conscience sat in nothing but ebony, soaking in the plethora of emotions that kept his heart over the week. Fear and anticipation coiled around his soul like serpentine snakes as the truth sat unambiguously inside him. His time left on Earth was indefinite, for Faust was to be traveling to a place far, far away. What sent his head spinning was the speed at which the events unfolded themselves. It started with Lulu, which lead to his joining of The Shamans, then as if on-cue the witch, Gwendolyn, having been absent from his life for over 10 years, suddenly appears in his bedroom to transport him away for 'training' in the very place that the spirits who have plagued him for over 10 years come from. So many questions had raced around his head this week, but all them seemed to cross the same finish line; he was to enter Andere, in hopes of saving the world. Faust doubted it was as theatrical as Gwen had made it out to be, but she knew millenniums more about this stuff than he did, so he had to trust her guidance.


Faust was guided from his unconscious-contemplation, beckoned from slumber by the sensation that he was being gazed upon. His instincts did not fail him, as he opened his eyes not inches from the witch Gwendolyn's. She batted her eyelashes, and the awkwardness of the situation did not register to Faust until he wiped his eyes and realized the situation itself. Faust shot up into a sitting position, trying to form an exclamation through stuttering words.


"G-G-Gwendolyn. D-Don't stare at me while I'm sleeping!"


The witch responded with a feminine giggle and a wink.


"Not used to having girls in your bedroom, huh? Don't assume things; you're much too young for me, mortal." The witch then sprung from his bed, her heels clicking much too lightly for normal gravity on the wooden boards of his bedroom floor, continuing to examine Faust as he flung the covers off of himself and standing up to realize he had slept in the silver sweater that Gwen had given to him shortly after her arrival. Faust began to gaze out at the sun as it barely poked itself above the dark Atlantic waters, the light of the new day peeking through the autumnal trees to catch Faust right in his sleep-laden eyes. Shaking himself from the soothing trance of the gorgeous sunrise, he turned to Gwendolyn.


"Everything on my end has been taken care of. So I'm ready when you are."


Gwendolyn blinked again before tilting her head to the side. "Ready for what, exactly?" She asked obliviously.


"Uh, aren't we going to Andere?"


Gwendolyn blinked again, the severity of the statement finally registering, bringing the witch's eyes to their full amaranth brilliance.


"Oh! Andere! That's right, Faust, we're going to Andere!" She laughed off her previous oblivion. "When you're as old as I am, you tend to forget these things." It threw Faust off-guard every time she mentioned her age. She spoke in terms that a senior citizen would use, yet she looked no older than 20. Exactly the same as when he first met her.


"Did you leave the message for your aunt?"


"Yeah. She won't read it, but it's there." Faust's aunt Linda wouldn't read the note if it was plastered on the front door instead of on the kitchen table, where he left it. She was so busy with work, that the house served merely as a sleep shack, and even that was on a rare occasion.


"I understand, but it's good of you to leave it all the same." She spoke distractedly, all the while furiously frisking the many pockets of her frilly black dress. Her face lit up and she let out a quiet exclamation as she pulled out, what seemed to Faust, a thin piece of white chalk. Gwendolyn then spun on her heel and faced the mountain of dirty clothes that made up the entirety of that half of his room. Faust could read from the drop in her shoulders that she was displeased, but Gwen spoke nothing of it, dropping to her knees and tossing PE clothes and school uniforms every which way.


"Gwen! I said I'd do the laundry this we-"


"Silence, Pup!" Gwen cut him off, clearing out a large circle surrounded by wrinkled shirts. Faust refrained from speaking out again as the witch drew a large circle on his floor. Faust watched her slim shoulders rise and fall as she took in a deep breath, and within the blink of an eye, she was drawing intricate patterns and designs within the circle at a speed that made her upper body look like a blur of ebony as the circle became thicker and more complex with every given millisecond. Gwendolyn analyzed her work, and stood up with a sigh of relief, which Faust assumed meant that it was done.


Gwendolyn spun on her heel once again to face Faust with a pearly smile. Behind her, thin light in nuances of every color began to dance out of the patterns, their height ascending as more and more designs came to life. Gwendolyn somehow managed to outshine the circle as she held out her hand to Faust.


"Well, shall we be off?"


Faust inaudibly swallowed the lump in his throat, looking out one more time and wondering how much this world would change in the time that he would not spend in it. Gwendolyn cleared her throat audibly, which caused Faust's head to jerk back towards her. Hesitantly, he gave his hand to her, the smooth and pale skin dwarfed by his tanned, rough hand. Gwen jerked his arm towards her, the sudden pull catching him off guard as he flew forward. The witch stepped to the side as he came flying at the circle, not managing to catch his balance before plummeting into what was now a hole in his floor. Gwen let out an amused laugh and casually stepped off the edge, the dancing light beginning to die down as the colors began to stitch themselves together, covering the dimensional gap between Earth and Andere.


Faust let out a continuous scream as he began plummeting through clouds that enshrouded him. The wind began beating against his body and drowning out his hearing as he fell through the clouds like a lead weight. He managed to turn his body as he saw a figure approaching him out of the corner of his eye. Who else would it be but Gwendolyn, the witch that threw him into the hole? She almost came hovering at him, her composure no different from when they were in Earth.


"You're gonna get it when we hit the ground, witch!" He hollered, his body swirling next to her as she casually laid on her back.


"Get in line, Pup! But try not to speak too much, otherwise you might lose your breath and slip out of consciousness!" She yelled back. Gwendolyn pulled out a golden pocket-watch from inside her dress. "Try to get yourself together, we'll be hitting the ground any minute now!"


This caused Faust's spine to tense up, giving him enough rigidness to pivot his body facing towards the direction he could only hope was down. He looked over once more at Gwen, who was spinning the watch by its chain at a speed that began creating a wall of wind around her. A windwall began forming under him as well, managing to bring down his speed of descending.


"I'm still going too fast, Gwen!"


Gwendolyn furrowed her brow, spinning even faster, causing the force under him to decrease the speed even further.


"Still too fa- OOF" The wind was knocked out of Faust as he landed on his back. His senses were starting to come back to their normal states as he groaned. Before opening his eyes, muffled screeches seem to enter his ears. He caught 'Flame's Wrath' and something about repeated knees. It was then that Faust realized he was not laying on dirt, but on a person! He immediately sprung to his feet, turning around and scooping the figure out from under him and into his arms. What he landed on appeared to be a girl of his age, who seemed to be just as out-of-breath as he was. Faust noticed there was a whip attached at her hip, and the horns sprouting through her fire engine red hair. She was certainly attractive, despite evidently not being human.


"You don't know how sorry I am for falling on you, Miss... uh, Wrath?"


Gwendolyn came floating down on a cloud of cartoonishly-small proportions, unfolding her legs and landing with a click of her heels as the cloud made an animated 'Poof!' and dissipated out from under the witch. Gwen's eyes grew wide as she leaned over the girl. "Wow! She's pretty, Faust. Can we keep her? Please please please?!" Faust exclaimed irritably and turned the girl in his arms away from Gwen.


"Do you ever stop creeping, Gwen?! She's a person, not a pet, we can't 'keep' her!"


Gwen frowned, both in disappointment and curiosity. The witch knew she had heard both 'Blaze of Condemnation' and 'The Flame's Wrath', but she couldn't add up why those titles would be spewing from the mouth of a girl who appeared to be Faust's age. She spoke nothing of it, keeping the questions to herself as she fixed her brim hat and stood up to her usual jolly attention.


"Very well. After all, she is a person, and not a pet. So we should see if she'd tag along with us!" Gwen spoke out authoritatively, which caused Faust to roll his eyes. Faust didn't realize it, but his attire had changed upon swapping dimensions. His silver sweater had turned into a long white overcoat that cascaded almost to his wooden tabi. He looked back down at the girl in his padded arms.


"So? Will you travel with us, Miss Wrath?"

 

[EliCarter]

Max's difficulty breathing only lasted for another split second before she found herself scooped up and held firmly in a man's arms, and much to her annoyance, it was the same man who had landed on her in the first place. Well, using the word "man" would be an exaggeration, he seemed to be of age, or around...of age... with very thick eyebrows and very messy hair. Yet, despite her comments about his age, she had to remark on how impressive it was that he had lifted her so easily, despite her wearing armor... as little armor as it may be, it surely couldn't have been that easy of a feat.


And then she was shifted again, turned away from the girl who began asking if she could be taken along as a...pet? General Maxence a pet? The boy had already turned her away, however, before she could respond. Remembering her pride, and status, Max twisted until she was able to break free from the boy's grip, landing with poised grace onto her armored heels.


She took a few steps back to survey the two, bushy eye browed strong..boy, and a thin, pretty woman, with very long pink hair... and the two wanted her to travel...with them? She shouldn't, they had landed on her, and made a fool of her, in front of the people she once struck terror into. But deep down, past her prideful ego, she knew it was the best decision, she had absolutely nothing, and in this new...weaker form, it would be dangerous to travel on her own.


She looked at the both of them, setting one hand on her hip while the other ran through the length of her long red hair.


"My name is Maxence Iblis, Wrath is my title, not my surname, thank you. And despite your rather unwelcoming entrance, which would have gotten you killed under any other circumstance, mind you, I suppose I wouldn't be... opposed to travelling with you," Max sniffed, eyeing the ground, rather than making eye contact.

 

[Delta]

The sky of Andere emulated much of it's mortal counterpart. Colossal puffs of clouds died with all nuances of color drifted across the vast baby blue sky, which also had giant veins of brilliant color pulsating in every direction, stitched across what may be the top of the Spirit World. Had his mind not already been occupied, Faust may have stared up in awe at a faint lime green cloud. The sun hung high in the air, also glowing with nuances of every color. The road they stood on snaked through large farming fields, the vibrant and lush green landscape dotted with quaint brick and wood houses with fluffy thatched roofs and chimneys that released puffs of wispy smoke that dissolved into the fresh air of Andere.


When the landing pad of a girl had jumped out of his arms and stepped back, Faust's eyes fell down to his hands. They were comfortably wrapped in white bandages, which cut off at the middle joint of each finger and wrapped up to his forearms. What fascinated him was not the new clothes that had magically been put on him, but the warmth that lingered on his upper body, where he held-


"-Maxence Iblis. Wrath is my title, not my surname, thank you."


Faust looked up from his hands, balling them up to let the comforting warmth linger in his palms for as long as possible. Maybe he could convince Max to let him hold her again, in a non-creepy fashion.


"-der any other circumstance, mind you, I suppose I wouldn't be... opposed to traveling with you."


Faust had not taken the time to realize that his fleshy safety cushion was more or less wearing an armored bikini, and he had to bring a hand to his face, pinching his nose to keep his nosebleed from cascading onto the gravel path beneath them. The boy turned in the opposite direction, looking up at the faint lime green cloud, which failed in keeping his mind off of the heat coming from his cheeks. He turned to Gwendolyn, who was off in her own world. Faust noticed how different the witch seemed in that moment; her expression was gentle and benign, with no signs of the quirky and perverse woman he spent every day with. She was clenching her right fist and then extending her thin fingers open, causing a plethora of brilliantly-colored butterflies to cascade out from her hand and off in every direction as she continued to stare at the palm of her hand almost blissfully. The sight was truly amazing to behold.


"So Gwen, where are we? And what exactly are we doing?" Faust asked nasally, his nose still pinched with his fingers.

 

[Sabrina]

They tickled as they formed in Gwendolyn's palm, the orbs did. That's how they started, at least. She gazed up at the familiar sky, in all of its vibrant glory, with the colored clouds that she adored so much. The faint breeze that played with her amaranth hair, undulating the lush harlequin grass that surrounded the newly-formed trio. The bliss of nature caused strands of aether to dance around in her palm, snaking through every line in the shrine maiden's hand before coming together in tiny orbs that shook with new life. It was not Gwen's place to deny Andere her spawn, so she extended her fingers slowly, the wings fluttering and tickling her hand, when out flapped a myriad of beautiful butterflies. She then spun on her heel, a gesture that was swiftly becoming a trademark for the maiden, facing the two youngsters she would be dragging along for adventure and things of that nature, for a quest that would soar over both of their heads and smack the rainbow sun itself.


"So Gwen, where are we? And what exactly are we doing?" Faust asked with his bloody nose, which made Gwen want to smack him.


The presumed-witch walked over and moved the boy's hand from his nose, grabbing a silky handkerchief from her pocket and wiping the fresh blood from his nose. The lad had no tolerance for women. Rafnir's sake, she couldn't even walk around his dwellings in a simple bathrobe without him attempting to defy gravity safely out his window, with a nosebleed, nonetheless. Gwendolyn wondered if she wore such a well-guarded outfit for the sake of keeping Fenrir Faust from having a heart attack and exude blood loss equivalent to a week's worth of bloody noses.


Gwendolyn cleared her throat and extended her right index finger, swishing her finger in front of her, seemingly drawing in the air. After a few awkward seconds, the figure she drew lit up into a bright square, with a smaller slanted hexagon inside, and borders extending from each corner of the hexagon until they reached the box with which they were contained. She then placed her finger on the line that stretched from the top of the hexagonal star to the upper left corner for her and the upper right for her companions, the corner highlighting itself to the maiden's touch.


"We are currently in Ewigen Wald, on the border of Wald and the Capital of Andere, Ordnung, near the Spirit Tracks. We have to make our way towards the outskirts of Ordnung, where we shall visit an old friend of mine that can find you a suitable weapon, Faust. Said friend may have something that the Iblis mistress may find of interest, as well." She turned to Maxence and winked. Gwendolyn then brought her hands together excitedly and spun on her heel, facing down the length of trail that led through huts more closely connected. "Judging by the architecture of these huts, I'd say we're in the farming village of Taeh, which would roughly put us a day and six minutes stroll outside of our destination of Asdale." She looked back to the two.


"Well then, shall we be going?" Without awaiting a response from either recipient, the maiden strolled down the gravel with a slight jubilant pep in her step.


The road they traveled eventually began snaking through stalks of wheat-like vegetation that bent over the path, making a stretched canopy that blocked the light from above. The party followed the dark path until the sunlight from the entrance no longer illuminated their surroundings. Gwendolyn advised the two to stick close, for it was easy to get lost in pitch blackness. Gwen smiled at the awesome structures that Ewigen Wald sprouted from its earth. For produce to be able to reach such heights and thickness was breath-taking to the maiden. What also struck Gwen as impressive was how open Maxence appeared to be with Fenrir. Granted, Gwen was far enough in front of the two that she couldn't make out words, but there was still a lot of chatter between the two. She doubted that the Iblis mistress would stay with them for very long, so Gwendolyn worried about how attached Faust would prove to be with her. The lad had already suffered enough loss; she didn't want to see him suffer that way anymore.


When they exited the natural tunnel, the sun had already gone down, and the vibrant moon of Andere hung high, swimming in a milky sea of stars that stretched across the sky in all directions. Spore-like orbs of light in a multitude of colors hovered in the fields and on the road. The lights belonged to torchbugs, which were basically the Andere-equivalent of fireflies, the former serving as lunar bees to magically pollinate the vegetation at night. A couple skittered their way onto the thin shoulders of Gwendolyn, which threw her into a quiet giggle fit. The maiden walked with mock-authority, pretending that the bugs were decorative medals of a war general. Gwen marched the young duo the rest of the trip, the torchbugs floating away as their light as replaced with man-made contraptions of illumination. They stopped in front of a large metal gate that stood as entrance to an area walled off by high borders of similar metal. A small slider placed on the door was pulled to the side, and the trio was inspected by a pair of bright ruby goggles.


"By the Goddess, it's you, Gwendolyn!" The slider was immediately closed shut, and shouting could be heard from the other side. "Gimley! Gumley! Open the gate, you twits; Gwendolyn has returned!"


The large steel-like door groaned boisterously with strained weight as it split in half, either part receding back into the walls it served as entrance for. The maiden stepped forward, and the beckoned for her company to follow. They had now entered Asdale, the Metal Gem.


The gravel path they followed up until this point turned into dark stone brick, which led to a colossal archway founding the Spirit Tracks. Gwendolyn led them further down the road, which led to the city of Asdale itself. Asdale was built down into an immense canyon-like hole, so much of the city was on platforms or built into the earthy walls. Walkways were tight and cramped, intersecting with others to form a very complicated system that one could easily get lost following without extreme caution or cognizance. Above the canyon walls lined the broad, dark trees of the Wald Woodlands, which blocked the view of the Capital, Ordnung. Gwendolyn turned to the young duo.


"This is where we part ways for the time being. I'll come and find you two after you've spoken to the friend I spoke of, named Vilmos. Faust, take this, and look for a matching image among the shops." She handed him a tiny hexagonal star, similar to the one she drew earlier. Gwendolyn turned to Maxence.


"Keep Faust safe for me, will ya?" She winked and then giggled. The giggle died down and her face wore a more serious and foreshadowing expression.


"Keep your wits about you. Don't make eye contact with anyone other than Vilmos, don't associate with anyone other than Vilmos, don't even think about anyone other than Vilmos. I would be lying if I said that I trusted anyone other than my friend in this mineral city of profit." She took a deep breath, exhaling the grimly stern attitude she previously spoke with, giving the two a soft smile. "Don't get the wrong idea, I have faith in you two. I just can't afford to lose you. Be safe, and be with eachother. I'll find you when the time is right." And with that, she walked past them and out of sight, losing all signs of individuality in the cesspool of busy commerce of the Metal Gem.

 

[EliCarter]

The travel didn't bother Max as much as she thought it would, she had fed enough so that she didn't even have to bother with walking, simply floating along beside Faust, who she took the time to talk to. This was the perfect opportunity, however, to size up her "travelling companions".


The slim woman, who she had come to know as Gwen, seemed immensely powerful, but she couldn't seem to remember her, despite her many years being alive, unfortunately she couldn't tell if that was because she had never met the woman during her time leading her army, back in the glorious days when she was strong, an unstoppable force of destruction. Or if it was simply because this new body was continuing to override her past experiences, in the same way it had done with her powers, negating them by 3/4ths. Either way, it would be unwise to form any sort of negative bond with her, and it was likely, even if she didn't know about Gwen, that Gwen knew about her. But if she had any discrepancies with what she had done in the past, she didn't make it apparent, if she even knew.


Faust, however, seemed unspectacular, in every way, and she couldn't figure out why Gwen would bring him along. Of course, he had fallen on her, and that alone annoyed her to no end.


But she found it hard to stay angry as the scenery around her unfolded, 1,000 years of isolation made the view look even more spectacular as she took it all in. By the time the sun had set and the stars made their way into view, Max had exhausted all of the energy she had fed and stored, and was now forced to walk along the gravel path along side the other two.


She sniffed, arms crossed, "Is there going to be much more walki-" she paused, forced to pause as they reached a large gate, and through whatever means, Gwen got to open. After reaching the inside of the city, which was busy with life, she handed Faust something small and basically told the both of them that she would return when the time was right, and she left.


Max stared for a bit, assured that the flighty woman would turn around and inform them that she was joking, and then take the two to whoever they needed speak to about weapons, but with a few long strides her slim frame blended and dissappeared into the crowd.


Max's eyes widened as her nostrils flared, she turned to Faust and jabbed a finger into his chest, "Gone? She's gone! And now we're alone in this damned city? What the hell am I going to do if I can't even look at anyone!" she hissed, pulling her hands back to her sides and placing them on her hips. With a squint and an arch of her brows, she surveyed the area around her, confidence building as she forced herself to remember who she was, and what she could do.





She tossed the length of her red hair over her shoulder and smirked at Faust, lips curving devilishly as she did so, "Alright, Faust, I'll keep an eye on you... how about we go look for some weapons on our own? We don't need her to babysit us, right?"

 

[Delta]

Faust's mind kept comparing this trip to his daily walks to and from school with Lulu each and every day back in Helvet Coast, with a couple subtle differences. Andere's sun did not beat on the back of Faust's neck with its heat like Earth's did, the former seemingly blanketing him with silky smooth... something. His walking company actually walked with him, and did not hover, a capability that the boy was very jealous of, despite wearing a face of indifference. When the path straightened itself out, Faust sighed and folded his hands behind his head as he walked, closing his eyes and putting his legs in a cruise-control like trance, something he taught himself how to do in order to burden the miles he had to cover on a daily basis back home.


Faust did not come back to his senses until he smacked against an object impossibly solid, his forehead colliding with the cool metal object and falling flat on his back, groaning at the annoying sting. Gwendolyn was leaning on a large, ornately carved staff he'd seen her with on numerous occasions, wearing a face of amusement and giggling as he looked up at her.


"All my cosmos of knowledge couldn't form a rational understanding of how you manage to sleep whilst walking, Pup."


When they made it inside Asdale, and Faust got over the fact that his life and that of hundreds upon thousands of other people were supported by little more than steel stilts built into the canyon they dangled over, Gwen handed him the small pendent and disappeared. Faust waited for his head to stop spinning violently before he tried comprehending what Max was saying to him, which was remarkably in-sync with the jabbing of her finger.


Faust shifted uncomfortably as Max began smirking. "Alright, Faust, I'll keep an eye on you... how about we go look for some weapons on our own? We don't need her to babysit us, right?"


"Last time I did something other than what Gwen instructed, she turned me into a burning lump of coal and threw me onto my end-of-year History project." Faust coughed uncomfortably, the reminiscent taste of charcoal returning to his mouth. "Plus, it's rare that she becomes that serious. For being around as long as she says she's been, I reckon she's experienced some serious shit, which makes me think that she wouldn't be so cautious if it weren't one-hundred percent necessary."


It was right after he finished his sentence that a sudden burst of green flame erupted out of a nearby whole-in-the-wall shop, with cloaked figures dancing out and cackling menacingly. Faust's brow furrowed in anger, as two of the figures, silhouettes shadowed by emerald fire, turned to him.


"Somethin' wrong?" One asked.


Gwen's words came back to him. Don't make eye contact with anyone.


Faust unlocked his gaze at the figures, grabbed Max's wrist, and ran down the large metal walkway as infuriated shouts echoed behind them.


"Get em!"


The boy figured he would try his chances with the cramped alleyways of Asdale, which were almost pitch black as the buildings towered above them. Faust wondered if Max was floating, as he hardly felt any weight or resistance coming from her as he ran. Faust felt the pressure of ricocheting projectiles bounce near him as the vandals hounded their trail. Nothing seemed to slow them, as Fenrir leaped over boxes and other miscellaneous junk and took sharp turns. Suddenly, the buildings and walkways began to shift mechanically. Walls opened and closed in different areas, pieces of the walkway shuffled into elevated stairs. Faust used this moment of bizarre confusion to take one last sharp turn into a cramped alley, holding his arm up and spinning Max like a tango partner as their bodies pressed together to squeeze into the space. He tried his best to regulate his breathing, his arms on either of the female and his breath gently trailing on her neck as he began caving in to panicked debilitation. Faust was about to apologize with what little energy he had left, when suddenly the wall he had Max pinned against split in two and the duo went tumbling inside.


The boy came rolling into the room, bouncing like a heavy ball. He managed to stop his dizzying entrance, landing in an up-right sitting position as the wall they fell into closed in on itself. "Down here!" the vandals yelled right near the wall, Faust exhaling a quiet sigh of relief as the sounds of their shuffled footsteps echoed past the entrance.


Faust began to survey their new-found hiding place. The room was entirely made of metal, which could be said for most of Asdale, lit orange by a bubbling forge of what Faust assumed was lava on the other side of the room. Shelving completely wrapped around the room, occupied by minerals, crystals, and contraptions of unknown functions. Suddenly, a decent-sized man came shuffling into the room, dressed in a typical blacksmith apron and large black tophat that was adorned with goggles.


"Ah, you must be Gwendolyn's company! Pup, was it?" The voice belonged to an elderly man. "Although, she didn't mention a second visitor. Nevertheless, you're more than welcome here."


"... Vilmos?" Faust asked hesitantly.


"I am he and he is I!" The man took a deep bow, and a wrench fell out of his tophat, clattering on the floor.


Faust wondered how Vilmos knew who they were from the other room, picking up the star pendent and placing it back in the pocket of his overcoat.


"Now then," Vilmos clapped his wrinkled hands together. "it is my understanding that our mutual friend has sent you to me in hopes that I could suit you up for combat!" The man shuffled over to a nearby cabinet, searching through its contents, and letting out a wheezed exclamation as he pulled out what seemed to be a key. "Right this way, you two."


Vilmos brought Max and Faust down a hallway and into a small, empty room. Faust frowned in confusion as Vilmos began tapping the key against a wall. It was just Faust's luck that the elder lost his mind whilst he was in a room with no doors. It was around this time that the room began expanding itself, all four walls pushing back and the floor expanding downward and outward. When the room stopped growing, Faust turned to Vilmos.


"Vilmos, how is it that this room was able to do that? Aren't we inside a building?"


The elder chortled in amusement. "Silly Pup, this room is suspended above the Asdalian Canyon itself! I can expand this room to whatever proportions I see fit, of course! Wondrous, isn't it?"


Faust felt his stomach grow queasy as he thought about nothing beneath the floor he now stood on. His attention was immediately snapped to an object flying towards him just outside of his peripheral vision. He held his hand out, and closed his fingers around the pommel of a sword. "Marvelous reaction time, boy!" Vilmos called out from across the gymnasium-sized room. Faust examined the sword in his hand; it was a broadsword, from what he remembered in the Scholastics piled up in the counselor's office at school. It felt rather awkward in his hand, so he held it with two.


"Good! We will be practicing with projectiles, to start. Now, Pup, take your battle stance!"


His what? Faust slid his right foot in front of his left, toes pointed towards Vilmos, while his left foot pointed to the side. Suddenly, a sphere came hurtling at the boy, jumping to the side and out of the path it took. Another one came at him, and Faust began running, jumping over and sliding under the projectiles that came at him. When Faust saw he was stuck in a corner, he awkwardly spun with the heavy blade, managing to knock the cannonball to the side, but also falling to the ground.


"Hmm... maybe we should try something lighter, yes?"


A mechanic claw of sorts came out of the wall to Faust's right, picking up the sword that had clattered to the ground and bringing it back into the wall. Seconds later, the claw came out of its sliding entrance with a smaller sword, placing it in Faust's grip. The handle was shorter, and the sword was more blade than anything.


"Now then!" On cue, the other side of the room exploded with the sound of cannon fire, and Faust continued to dodge the incoming projectiles hastily. Vilmos was beginning to piss Faust off, this 'practice' could get Faust killed! The boy turned from facing an adjacent wall he would have eventually slid his way to, and looked down the court towards Vilmos, sliding his foot once more down the long stretch, his demeanor completely shifted into something much more serious; and much more angry.

 

[Sabrina]

Streams of blue fire swam around the dark room, moving in snake-like patterns over Gwen's head. Being in the room seemingly brought all of her spirits down, and she fought back the urge to create more butterflies to cheer her up; she would never bring new life into this room. Hundreds of years in this room and it still disturbed her, so she couldn't imagine what this would do to innocent newly-born existence. The stone room had a way of sapping out any and all positive emotions. The wonderful taste of fresh Andere aether, reuniting with Fenrir, spectating him sleep walking for almost seven hours; everything. It took everything.


"Why can't you just tell me already, Gwen?" The feminine voice whined.


"There's nothing to tell, Mairwen. Everything is still on-track." Gwen said irritably, folding her arms and crossing one slender leg over the other as she sat in the usual wooden chair provided for her.


"That's not what I saaaaw~!" The voice of Mairwen cooed, producing a giggle that was laced with menace. "You have General Iblis, don't you?"


"Demons are known for bluffing, Mairwen. Even if she was the host body, General Iblis couldn't possibly form enough power to meet your desire."


Mairwen's childish voice sighed in disappointment.


"I've spent enough time with you for now, Mairwen. I'll be returning to the Pup now."


"And the General?" The voice giggled again.


Gwendolyn rose from her stool with irritation, waving away a snake of flames that swam too close to her hat. The maiden strolled to the summoning circle, her heels clicking indignantly, and stood on the inscribed stone platform. Mairwen called out behind her.


"I'll be able to leave one day, y'know. And when I do, I'll be gunning for you, Gwenny~!"


Gwendolyn couldn't hold back a grin.


"Looking forward to it, Mairwen."


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


He had felt them coming from the minute they stepped through the Northern gate. Three of them. Vilmos could not hear them, obviously, but judging by the sudden disappearance in heel-clicking, Gwendolyn had left the one she called Pup. Then when the Asdale General Goods was vandalized, he knew that the Pup's arrival would come sooner, so he began preparing the tea and searched for the Omni-room Key. It was not one body that he sensed at his wall, but two. Assuming they were youthful lovers looking for a dimly-lit alley to engage in jolly cooperation, Vilmos figured he could get a chortle out of rustling their noggins. So he commanded the wall to split, and in came tumbling the lovers. Vilmos' eyes opened wide as he felt the pendent on his floor, and he realized that he had not caught randy teenagers, but the Pup and his company! Then he brought them to the Omni-room, and he squirmed under his newly-equipped Techcoat, a long leathery trenchcoat with more than a couple aces up its sleeves. Vilmos commanded two cannons to rise from the floor, and thus he began projectile training with the Pup.


"Well, Pup, how's the new sword?" Vilmos called out.


"There's something about it that I'd like you to see, sir!" The Pup said, the tone in his voice hotter than tempered steel.


Vilmos chuckled and folded his hands behind his back. "Very well, lad. Show me what you see."


The Pup came rushing forward, and Vilmos calibrated the firing-rate of the cannons to a higher speed, the elderly man becoming shrouded in cannon smoke. A monocle slid down from the brim of his top hat, and he could clearly spectate the Pup's struggle through the thick cloud. To Vilmos' surprise, the Pup was making excellent time getting to him, effortlessly gliding through the barrage of artillery. It was surprisingly early for the main event, but Vilmos saw little choice in the matter.


As the Pup came into the cloud sword-drawn, Vilmos cast down a mace to shatter the blade. He then summoned three other arms to swirl the smoke away, his grin now visible to the boy. Four robotic arms sprouted from his back, produced from the Techcoat itself. Each claw held a weapon; an ax, a longsword, a mace, and a javelin. The sight was almost monstrous to behold.


"And now, Pup-" Vilmos called out, failing to suppress his excitement. "-we dance!"


The boy continued to excel in dodging, sidestepping the javelin lunges and weaving through the combination of sword slashes. Vilmos was caught by surprise as his sword did not come back to him. He looked down to see the Pup had taken the slash with his vambrace, the sword failing to sever the wood. The Pup took this opportunity to bring a knee flying up at him, which Vilmos was forced to take on impact. The man skittered backwards, his mechanic arms keeping him from falling to the ground. He chuckled, realizing two arms were no match for the angered child. The Pup managed to grab the sword out of his arm, but this worried Vilmos not. The boy was left to desperately blocking and back-stepping as the man took the offensive, bringing down all four arms in a whirl of slashes and stabs. The sword that the Pup took from him told Vilmos that the boy wasn't meant to wield any weapon that the old man had crafted.


Of course, Vilmos thought. Gwendolyn had requested he craft those for a purpose that had not immediately come to Vilmos' mind. The man ordered his Techcoat to cease fire, and all but one retracted into his back once more.


"Our friend asked me to make this for you, Pup. All of this weapon-testing was a waste of time, and I sorrowfully admit that the blame was a miscalculation of my error."


The man reached into the wall, feeling around for the right storage unit hidden in the walls of his metal emporium. He pulled his arm back out and present the Pup a slim box. Vilmos pulled the lid off with his own hands, and pulled out the metal vambraces. They were inscribed with runes that even Vilmos had forgotten the exact translations of, and shone even under the artificial lighting of the Omni-room.


"Put these on. Our friend made it a top priority of mine to put my best into these, and I would certainly not want to disappoint her, she once turned me into- Ah, never mind the details, I'm sure you know all about it." He chuckled heartily.


"Tell me when you have them equipped, and then we shall commence the real training. Shall your significant other be joining us?"

 

[EliCarter]

Max stood with her arms crossed, after being forced to run, instead of challenging her attackers like any honorable warrior would, and then being forced to press her body against the boy, as they hid like cowards, and then being dragged through a secret hole, while Faust continued to show copious amounts of testosterone by battling the obviously mentally disturbed man, she didn't feel like doing anything other than stand there and glare.


She knew she didn't have any chance at regaining her power, or her title, unless she stuck around with him, but her pride was taking a major blow with each passing hour, and it only increased her irritation.


"Tell me when you have them equipped, and then we shall commence the real training. Shall your significant other be joining us?"





Max's eyebrows furrowed at the statement, she cleared her throat loudly, placing her hands on her hips and giving the man an indignant scowl, a technique that would cause mortals to cower, if she was in her original form, "This boy is not my significant other, and I would appreciate it if you took the time to recognize that I will rip o-" she paused, biting back her bitter taunt, forcing on a smile that seemed as awkward and unnatural as a fish attempting an intricate ballet dance number.





"Rip a mighty big smile if I had the chance to see your work as well, especially based upon what I...erm, saw... during your display...earlier..." she hissed, lip quivering as she forced back a snarl and kept the awkward, uncomfortable, twitching smile twisted upon her mouth, "Vilmos, was it? You may call me The Fla- Max.... you can call me Max,"





She turned on her armored heels, tossing her bright hair over her shoulder and attempting a more modest stance, one less threatening and disturbing than the one she had assumed before.


(Short post is short, sorry. :c)

 

[Delta]

Faust couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Max being his 'significant other', as assumed by Vilmos. Faust looked down at his new metallic vambraces, catching his own reflection staring at him as the boy contemplated on the idea. If she were his 'significant other', that would mean he'd have all day to embrace the wondrous warmth that Max's skimpy-clad body emanated so freely. Aside from that, she wasn't incredibly hard to converse with, so long as you kept mind about what you said. Maybe we could talk more often, kinda like 'significant others'. Faust faintly smirked at himself. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Faust tore his gaze from the radiantly silver vambrace, bringing himself from his momentary daydream and back to the proposal at hand. Vilmos stood politely as he awaited the boy's answer, the protracted mechanic arms clicked and moved animatedly behind him like living appendages as they waited anxiously. Faust looked over towards Max at the sidelines, who always found a way to look intimidating, even when merely standing.


"Yeah, she'll be joining." Faust smirked in amusement. "Isn't that right... darling?"


Before the ruby-haired female had time to respond, Faust extended a wrapped hand towards her, gently grappling the woman's arm and bringing her towards him. The boy immediately assumed a concentrated battle stance, one that came naturally to him. He was prepared to spring off his feet at the drop of a hat. Faust had too much railing on him to take things casually; he wanted to earn the respect of Max, who blatantly viewed him as little more than a gnat. He also wanted to find out what Gwendolyn truly had planned for him, and if it had anything to do with her dressing like a witch. None of this could be achieved if he didn't grow strong. Strong enough to smear Vilmos like a mechanical bug. Strong enough to endure Max's blazing body heat for over an hour. Strong enough to beat Gwen in arm wrestling one day. All of it. All of it required strength, and none of it would tolerate somnolent defeat.


"Go!" Faust called out, leaping forward and dashing across the large room at his opponent, who continued to stand politely yet ever-so ominously with his almost coal-black hands folded behind his back. The man began to call out as Faust drew in on him.


"Rule Number One; never alert the enemy of when you will be attacking. This will grant them time to study your moves and devise an appropriate counter accordingly!"


This irritated Faust to no end. The old geezer did not address this situation as direly serious as Faust did. This was not a study session, for crying out loud. Technically, it was, but the boy refused to see it that way. As he closed in on Vilmos, Faust jumped up, aiming a right-hook directly for Vilmos' soot-covered pale face.


"Ello, Pup!"


Faust's arm was seized by the vambrace as a mechanical appendage grappled the boy, bringing itself up in one swift gesture as it used the add-on of Faust's momentum to send the boy up and over Vilmos' head, and at the metal ground behind him. Before he was sent crashing at the ground, Faust felt a gush of searing hot air blast upon him, and he used this diversion to land on his feet, still under the grasp of the claw. Faust briefly peered around Vilmos to see Max had summoned the fireball, and it appeared she was ready to fling another one. Faust looked up to see the smile on Vilmos' face shortly before the boy was flung up into the air once more. He managed to unhook himself from the fierce grip of Vilmos' jacket, and watched from right below the ceiling as Max summoned yet another fiery ball, hurtling it at the old man. Faust spun himself to where his feet would plant themselves upon the metallic ceiling, before seizing up every ounce of strength in his calves and rocketing himself downwards upon Vilmos at incredible speed. He was countered mere inches above the man's head by another metallic arm, the force of Faust's punch visibly causing Vilmos to put effort into his next attack, which was simply to fling Faust backwards. The boy did barrelrolls as he was sent flying in the direction of Max, catching himself on all fours besides the fire-wielding woman, who was clearly exhausted. Faust continued crouching, staring down Vilmos on the other side of the room as he spoke to her and her alone.


"Those fireballs seem to be doing a number on you, but I have a plan and it'll require the biggest one you can manage." He shared the other details of his plan, breaking his gaze and looking up at her only after he was finished. "I'll apologize later."


Without awaiting a confirmation of clarification or whatever it is Miss Flame would say to him, he sprung himself forward at impressive speeds. "Now!" Faust shouted, feeling the exact moment at when the fireball was fully prepared, and anticipating the time at which he would have to jump in order to catch it at the desired altitude. He leaped upwards, angling his left arm backwards and feeling the impact of the searing compact flame slide up against his new vambrace. He twisted his entire body, forcing his entire weight into tossing the fireball directly at the center of the room's floor, which sent immense heat waves in all directions and filling the entire room with hissing obscurely thick smoke. He felt the incredible pressure shift as the ax whip of Max's came hurtling through the smoke and at Vilmos, listening to the weapon wrap around another metallic object and the clicking of tightly locked chains. Faust knew this was Vilmos' claw, which meant the time to strike was now. In order to obey Rule Number One, Faust sucked in his breath inaudibly and readied his strongest strike yet. He dashed forward silently, almost as if his large jacket was negating the audibility of any of his movements. The smoke around Vilmos was cleared, and Faust had a clear visual on the only opening in the man's defense. Staying low to the ground, Faust brought his clog to the ground and summoned all his lower strength into the force behind the pounce. Faust brought his hands together at the lower palms, the muscles in both his right and left arm tightened up as the initial impact to Vilmos' stomach landed successfully. The next step was pure instinct, and Faust knew not where he gained the knowledge to pull off this attack. The muscles rippled forward as all the momentum in Faust's pounce began cascading through his body and into his palms, forming a solid wall of pressure in his hands.


"Release!" Faust shouted, and let loose the built up pressure in his hands like a cannon, releasing a sonic boom of pure momentum into the chest of Vilmos, obliterating all cloth covering up the weird backpack of his, and catching itself on a solid black chestplate that consisted of four large straps wrapping over his shoulders and under his arms which came together in a large plate at the center of his chest, sending the old man and his appendages spiraling backwards and slamming against the metallic wall, crumbling into a pile of ebony-black metal. Faust was exhausted by the overwhelming force of the attack he mysteriously pulled out of his hat, or his vambraces. He heaved stressed air out of his mouth for a moment, looking back at Max, who appeared as though she was about to crumble like Vilmos. Faust did not know where all this stamina was coming from, but he had no troubles regulating his breath and dashing forward, catching the fiery female before she could collapse against solid metal. He couldn't help but crack a smile as the warmth he came to fancy pressed against his chest as the host was cradled in his arms. Faust began to walk them towards the pile of Vilmos, continuing to cradle the warm woman as he sat down in front of the man, waiting for him to wake up. He wanted to talk to Vilmos before they left to find Gwen.


It seemed as though an eternity had passed before Vilmos stirred from his pile, his crumbled mechanic arms pushing him gently against the wall and up into a sitting position, leaving the boy to wonder if the arms had moved on their own accord, or if it were the old man who commanded them to do so, even in their damaged state. Faust did not mind waiting; he was honored for all that Vilmos had done for him, so he owed him all the time in the world, be it this one or Earth. His face was scratched up, and his glasses were severely bent, even his battle-hyped smile was exhausted into a fatigued smirk. The mechanical appendages slumped once more before Vilmos spoke.


"That technique... I have not witnessed its execution since the first wielder of those vambraces. It would seem... that more than just better defense was passed on... to you. The name for that technique is-" Vilmos wheezed, plumes of smoke and soot puffed about as he did so. "Well, it matters not. Surely you will deem a more suitable name for it, as it belongs to you and you alone now." He waved his hand weakly at them in a shooing fashion. "Leave me now, Pup. I have much repair work to do; and you have a certain mistress to catch, do you not?" Faust knew he was right, but he didn't want to leave Vilmos in the fashion that he was.


"I'll come visit you again, Vilmos. As a proper guest, and not a stumbling intruder." Faust looked down at the gal cradled in his arms. "We both will."


"Very good. Now scram, for you are impeding on progress!"


Faust smiled, nodding his head and walking both him and Max towards the exit. The boy looked back at Vilmos one last time before leaving. The elderly man looked up at a mechanical arm, which snaked its way up from the ground. "The Pup certainly did well, didn't he?" The old man smiled as he softly stroked the side of the appendage with his slim and charred hand.


Faust managed their way through the winding tunnels of metal, up into the room where they stumbled in, and back out into the open city of Asdale. The first rays of dawn began to seep through the cracks of the ebony night sky, which meant they had fought for all hours of the night. The boy had almost completely forgotten about the vandal attack on the store, which was the only reason they had found Vilmos in such a timely fashion, the billowing smoke having died down in the time the two had spent in Vilmos' lair. It was not in vain, however. He felt as though he were a changed man, hopefully winning atleast a shred of respect or recognition from his fiery companion, as well as obtaining the means of making himself useful to the group. Faust couldn't even imagine how long it would take for the two of them to find Gwendolyn in this vast city of suspended metals.


"Pup!"


... Not quite as long as he had originally presumed.

 

[EliCarter]

Max struggled to maintain an outwardly calm appearance while she simultaneously struggled to breathe normally, she had so much energy sucked out of her that she couldn't even manage a vicious protest to Faust's man-handling of her. She damned this weak, soft, fleshy body, she longed for her true form, her massive height, her rippling muscles, her very presence that struck fear into the hearts of men.


"I can walk by myself you kn-...mnnn..." she whimpered, clutching her head. Even the act of speaking strained this small body, and it only took her a moment to figure out what was wrong with her. The familiar pang in her stomach, her complete and utter weakness... she was hungry, she needed to feed.





"Pup!"





She slowly turned her head to stare at Gwen, licking her lips hungrily while surveying the woman's lithe form and beauty... but she was too far away. Any attempt at reaching her would involve her passing out, and landing flat on her face on the floor. And despite all the humiliation the Flame of Condemnation had felt this day, she was not going to allow eating dirt to be one of them.


She whimpered as another pain wrenched her stomach, shifting in Faust's arms ever so slightly before staring up at him. He had done a good job against the old man, in fact, if he was one of her soldiers, she would have promoted him on the spot. Of course, she wasn't going to let him know that... but he was rather close... close enough for her to reach. Her eyes pinpointed his lips, and she focused in on them... they were right there, and soft looking...


Her mind immediately rejected the idea, but her body's aching proved to be too much for her self control. She leaned upwards and locked her lips with his, almost groaning as the intense flavor of his energy hit her. Relief flooded through her in hot waves as she managed to gain strength through the intense kiss, it's distinct flavor caused her to shudder in delight, and coaxed her to feed further. Max, now able to move her limbs comfortable, promptly shifted in his arms so that she could cup his face, escalating the kiss further until she finally felt full. She drew her mouth from his, and with new found grace and vigor, removed herself from his grip, dropping downward only to hover a few inches above the ground. She plastered a bored expression onto her face, tossing her hair over one shoulder as her other hand made it's way to her hip.





"Don't get any ideas, boy, I only did that because I was in desperate need for a feed. And, unfortunately, you were the closest thing I could get my mouth on," she mused, staring at the claw gloved armor on her hands, as if she was inspecting her nails, "Of course, if Ms. Gwen would like to volunteer the next time I get peckish, I wouldn't object," she purred, throwing a rather masculine sultry grin in Gwen's direction.





Max suddenly jolted into an upward position, her eyes widening in mid-nail/claw inspection, she whirled on Faust, pointing a finger at him, "Oh! And are you going to explain what that whole fiasco was in there!? And why we ran from those thugs in the first place? Maxence Iblis doesn't run from anyone, and anyone who thinks they'll harass me without suffering the consequences is in for a heinous surprise," she spat, throwing her arms upward and sending a plume of flames down their length, her small body shuddering as a dark chuckle made it's way through her wicked smile.


Satisfied with her performance, she crossed her arms and contently floated in place, her hair flickering about her like the flames she had just spawned. She turned to look at Gwen, the annoyed glare she attempted looking more like a pout on her new face, "Why do I have a feeling you're behind the whole "training the Pup" situation that just took place?"





She blinked again, turning to look at Faust, now, "I'm also awaiting my apology, and the next time you call me 'darling', I'll torch off your eyebrows,"

 

[Sabrina]

Asdale, the bestirring wealth-hungry Metal Gem, was always a personal favorite of Gwendolyn's. The suspended city seemed to be the only place in all of Andere where the shrine maiden could roam the stannic walkways in the same fashion as everyone else. The desire for personal monetary gain, as well as the struggle for basic necessities, blinded the people from realizing they shared the same streets as Gwendolyn, guardian and heroine. In a sense, she was greatful of the mortal sins that carried on into Asdale from Earth. With a rejuvenated pep in her step, she lightly skipped down the barren pathway, the clicking of her stiletto heels reverberating off the sleeping buildings as she casually worked her way towards the Workshop.


Her two youthful companions stumbled out laboriously onto the main walkway at almost exactly the same time Vilmos said they would be. Asdale's Secret Gem and close friend of Gwendolyn spoke eminently of the Pup's growth from the time Vilmos first met him; the shrine maiden having tasked Vilmos with building a human carnival in the wondrous Omni-Room to conceal from the seven year old Fenrir that he had been taken into another dimension so his friend and future wife (as proclaimed by Faust himself) could deliver a pair of armguards she discovered on one of her journeys for the best blacksmith in all of Andere to work his magic on; a magic not even Gwendolyn herself could attempt to fathom. The history of the ornate vambraces, from what Vilmos had told her, was a very tragic one, and one that she would keep from Fenrir for as long as she possibly could. Gwendolyn explained that the boy she brought with her to the Omni-Room with her that day was to be the future wielder of the unique armor. Vilmos glanced over at the boy, who was sitting upon the artificial wolf seat on the 'merry-go-round', with sharp eyes of both excitement and confusion, beyond his generations of knowledge as to why it was specifically this pup who would inherit such a powerful Artifact. Gwendolyn knew exactly what emotions swam on the surface of his eyes, and failed to conceal an amused smile.


"You'll see one day, my friend."


Their business concluded with that cryptic message- no, with that cryptic promise- and the shrine maiden called out for her young friend, who had not ceased to stare at the false creature with eyes that not even Gwendolyn could translate. The boy became more and more interesting with each passing day, she noticed.


"We'll be going now, Faust. Can I have a hug?" She called out playfully.


Faust's gaze of the wolf lasted only seconds longer before the attention was snapped and he came bustling over to her, spreading his arms wide and embracing Gwendolyn excitedly. The boy truly adored embracing the shrine maiden, and she would be lying if she said she loathed it. Gwendolyn seized the opportunity to open up a silky sliver into the Aether of Andere, transporting them back to her shrine on Earth in a fraction of a second. The technique was a form of magic that was taught to her long ago when she first began her journeys in Andere, an arte which also gave off an oddly comforting radiation of warmth.


Coming back from her momentary flashback, Gwen snickered internally. She wondered if Faust still remembered the promise he made to her all those years ago, back when they first became companions at the footsteps of her shrine. The promise always managed to give her stomach butterflies that not even her most complex forms of arcane arte could summon.


"I'll marry you, Gwen! You seem like a nice witch, so I won't let you live alone anymore! Then we could play video games for as long as we wanted, and I could come along on those vacations you always take. Maybe even the carnival again!" Then Faust grinned up at her, radiating a brilliant glimmer of jubilant youth. Gwendolyn never forgot that smile, which lit the passages in the deepest and darkest of dungeons, and ultimately led her back to that concealed shrine on the top of a hill long abandoned each and every time she departed for worlds unknown.


However, looking at the two younglings now, Gwen highly doubted the boy was reminiscing on his youth. Whether it was because he was about to collapse from fatigue, or that he was cradling a very lightly-clothed and very attractive female in his arms, Gwen cared not; the fact that he managed to outsmart one of the brightest minds in all of Wald in a heavily-one sided environment by means of cooperation with someone he'd only just met, a someone who may be the host body for one of the most terrifying Rafniran Generals in Andere history, meant that Faust was coming along better than anyone in Gwendolyn's network could have possibly anticipated.


"Pup!" Gwen called out, tapping an old wooden staff she happened to be holding at the time on the metal beneath their feet to fetch the attention of her comrades. About as soon as she did that, Gwen spun on her heel, realizing she had not remembered under what constellation their next route proceeded. The shrine maiden bit her lip out of frustration, as the navigation pinpointing was proving more difficult than usual. When she found the correct alignment, the Sigil of Signus, spinning once more to face Faust and Maxence, who was now miraculously standing on her feet. The girl mentioned something about 'Ms. Gwen volunteering' and 'pecking', so Gwendolyn assumed the hostess was referring to bird-feeding.


"Huh? Oh- uh, yeah, just remind me to grab bread crusts." Gwen spoke in absent-mindedness, wondering if the Sigil was truly the route they needed to take to reach their last stop on Pup's first trip to Andere. She did, however, manage to catch the rest of Maxence's interrogation to Faust. Gwendolyn was in the middle of transcribing the omens of the early dawn constellations into the large glass ball nestled atop the wooden staff, so her answers to Maxence's questions were brief and distracted in tone.


"It's a good thing he ran. Any form of hostility would have alerted the Court of Asdale, and the last thing we require is more delays and attention. Also, you of all people should be cautious about alerting the attention of powerful forces. You're in quite the bind, after all; aren't you, Maxence?" Gwendolyn lightly chuckled, before her face returned to its concentrated expression.


"I'm guilty to the charges of Vilmos training. However, I was not expecting Vilmos to use his masterpiece, the 'Techcoat', albeit for defensive purposes. I'm proud of both of you; you'll be sparring me next." Gwendolyn looked up once more, winking and giggling. "Well, maybe not quite yet. If you two keep growing at the rate you currently are, however, the time may come sooner than one might think." The inscribing process was complete, so Gwendolyn spun her staff in patterns like a baton at seemingly-impossible speeds before shoving its entirety into the contents of a satchel she held at her side. Zipping the small bag shut, she smoothed her dress with her thin hands and looked up at the group.


"Our next destination is deep in the forest beyond Asdale; a location I think Faust will find most interesting. Now then, shall we be off?"


With that, the shrine maiden ushered the two with her, along the complex pathways and under towering constructs for what seemed an eternity, until finally they reached the edge of the city. Gwendolyn looked back at the amazing sight with a smile, tapping her ebony heel onto the very last strip of Asdale metal, in a cryptic pattern that was almost like Morse Code. The message would reach its target, and its target only. With that, the feet of the company stopped echoing on thick steel, and began to thud on the forest's dirt path, which was weathered and beaten into a sturdy trail. The sunlight which dappled through the vibrant green canopy danced majestic patterns on top of them as they started their trek to a destination Gwen did not spoil.

 

[Delta]

Faust did his absolute best to refrain himself from limping as the trio began walking along the sun-splotched trail. Gwendolyn had been walking in front of him, resting her hands on either ends of her scribing staff as it sat level with her shoulders. It was the witch to whom he did not want to discover his impairment, for he did not want her deeming him unfit to trek further in the Spirit World. Faust was determined to grow stronger, so he could carry the team on his shoulders, for once. The last thing Faust wanted to be was the helpless human being protected by magic women, even though Gwendolyn wouldn't care in the slightest. Maxence Iblis, however, was a different story; the boy figured Miss Iblis wouldn't even so much as blink if she was the only means of keeping his limbs from slowly being severed, if the situation presented itself. He made a note to attempt conversation with Maxence once again relatively soon, if the time ever came that he felt as though he wasn't on the verge of blacking out and collapsing on the solid earth beneath their feet. Faust was no detective, but he was willing to wager lunch money on the mysterious technique being the culprit of his feeble condition.


The boy couldn't help but ceaselessly wonder how it came to be that he pulled off that attack on Vilmos. He could understand a simple parry out of instinct, but to forcefully summon a barrier of wind out of his body was on a whole 'nother level, he figured. His mind began racing at the speculative speed of forceful palm wind.


What if he was always able to do that? Will it always lead to throbbing lethargic aftermath? Could he make his palms shoot laserbeams?


Faust's velocious train of thought was brought to a sudden halt as dazzling sunlight briefly blinded him. He squinted his eyes to keep the harsh sunshine from burning his pupils. The boy indignantly wondered how such concentrated rays of light managed to penetrate the thick canopy of temperate leaves and aim directly for his eyes, when he shifted his arms and the painful sunbeam dissipated in an instant. Faust gazed down upon his new vambraces, which flashed the harsh sunlight for a second, almost as if it were demonstrating the evidence of his internal investigation.


Maybe the new armguards have something to do with my technique. I wonder if they hold other cool powers? He thought to himself as his eyes trailed the intricate patterns engraving the vambraces.


"Single file line, kiddies." Gwen called out behind her at the two of them.


Faust looked up to see what it was Gwendolyn was talking about, when his eyes gazed upon the witch standing at the footsteps of a large wooden tavern-like building nestled alongside the dirt path, sunlight causing the thatch roof to grow a brilliant gold. He dropped his arms to his sides, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his overcoat as he let Max walk in front of him.


"Ladies first, Miss Iblis." He said, attempting a smile as he began wondering what was inside the building.


They entered what indeed was a tavern, with armored persons of all shapes and sizes carrying out various tasks or boisterously bragging tales of adventure over freakishly-large tin mugs. They were different from the average individual Faust had seen in Andere. They actually looked like humanoid people from Earth, whereas the farmers of Taeh and the bustlers of Asdale looked like masked spirits and mildly-transparent shades of all subtle hues.


"Check in for us, Pup. I'll be back in a second."


Gwendolyn entered a nearby hallway before Faust could ask why it was he who had to 'check in' for them, so he sighed and approached the large oak desk located near the entrance. The desk supported columns of papers that almost touched the ceiling, yet he saw no attendant.


"Uh... hello?"


An irritated grunt greeted him, as he leaned over the desk to find someone was in fact present. An almost impossibly-small elderly woman sat in the chair like a toddler in Gwen's largest cauldron, not even bothering to look up at Faust as she continued jotting things at lightning speeds with an ink pen brandishing a feather nearly as large as her.


"Maiden, or Streik?"


Faust didn't know what the granny meant by her question, so he shuffled uncomfortably and cleared his throat audibly.


"Lemme guess, you're with the blasted Pirates, aren't you? Your own bars weren't enough, so you have to come here trashing the new Hall, huh? Well I'll tell you wha-" The woman indignantly took her glasses off, as she prepared to chew out a presumed-pirate, when she gazed up at Faust. "Oh!" She reached forward, placing her spectacles back on her beak-like nose as she stood up on her chair to observe Faust.


"No... no. You don't look like a Pirate to me. What faction are you with, boy?"


Faust still didn't fully understand what she meant by 'faction', but his best guess was the pretend-group Lulu inducted him into.


"I'm with the Shamans, ma'am."


"So you're one of those from somewhere other than New Wahrheit or Andere, right?" she snorted. "Your lot are even worse than the Pirates, incompe-"


"Granny Took, that will be enough harassment for our guest." A feminine voice of obvious authority called out. "I recall a certain file of papers I asked for on my desk. I'm going to assume that your leisurely chatter indicates those are finished, hm?"


Faust looked up as the Took woman grumbled under her breath about the lack of respect for the elderly. He matched the voice to a relatively-youthful looking blonde gal clad in stereotypical gallant knight armor, who was making her way toward him. The female knight held out an iron gloved-hand to Faust. "Arabella Lamm, of the Wald branch of Shamans. You are Faust, yes?" Faust nodded, holding out his hand, which was shaken by the knight with a masculine firmness. It was then that a familiar face leaned out from behind the broad shoulders of Arabella Lamm.


"Looks like you're making friends already, Pup!"


Faust laughed nervously, which was cut off as a sudden thought hit him like a super sonic baseball.


"Wait, did you say 'Shamans'? "


Arabella nodded, which caused her armor to rattle slightly. "You are of the Earth sectre, Helvet Coast branch, are you not?"


"I am, or at least I think I am; but I figured my friend was just making things up, admittedly."


The female knight chortled politely. "We are certainly nonfictional, Faust, as hard as that may be to fathom, what with being located in what I'm sure you can relate to story tales back on Earth, no?"


She was absolutely correct. Part of Faust assumed this was all just an uncannily-realistic dream; the rainbow sky, his kick-ass wind attack, and the gorgeous fire-wielding Maxence. His head was spinning this entire trip, excruciating wind palm headaches or not.


"Gwendolyn here notified me that she was nominated to enroll both yourself and Maxence Iblis-" Arabella held up a hand to Max in a gesture of brief greeting, failing in concealing an underlining expression of grimness for even speaking the name "-in our Shaman Cadet program here." The woman continued before Max or Faust had time to respond. "I can't express how happy I am to have two humans from Earth joining our ranks. I have connections in the Helvet Coast branch, so I know I can trust people such as yourselves. I also understand that you lot are returning to Earth shortly, but Gwendolyn assured me that you two would have time to join me on a morning hunting trip. You have 15 minutes to get ready, and we'll meet outside by the main road. See you then, Cadets."


Arabella walked off in an aura of business, leaving Faust to squint at Gwendolyn. He didn't want to go hunting, he wanted to go home. That being said, he could neither go against the commands of Gwen or Arabella; the latter exuded authority as well as intimidation strong enough to keep Faust from speaking out of place. Looking for positives, he turned to Maxence.


"Well, I s'pose we better get ready, huh?"


He turned once more to face Gwendolyn, but the witch was not located where she was previously standing. Faust couldn't help but let out an audible sigh as he stuffed his hands back in his pockets.

 

[EliCarter]

Max stared at Faust, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed in a deadly fashion, her ears were still ringing in disbelief at what was just suggested.


She.


Maxence Iblis.


Apart of a Shaman Cadet program? It was an insult, a complete and utter insult! This playing nice was taxing her patience, eating away at it like flies swarming rotten flesh. Was it worth it? Would she be able to draw upon the power she once had if she went through with this? It was terrifying to think about, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was scared, and vulnerable to these stranger's will. She blanched, narrowing her eyebrows further in a desperate attempt to turn that fear into fury, admitting defeat, even through her facial expressions was a weakness she absolutely refused to stoop to.


Max smirked, her pouty lips taking on a vicious sneer as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, all the heat that previously burned in her eyes simmering down to a cool smolder, "I suppose so,"


"But I am pretty much prepared, as I am,"

 

[Delta]

The uncomfortable sensation ebbed through her body with a throbbing grip on her shoulder, her skin's sensitivity heightened painfully against the snug leather under her new armor. It was a gift, given to her by Peon as an honorable symbol of her newly-appointed title as Sub-Chief. Lamm found it incredibly superfluous for her to be granted brand new defensive equipment, but very rarely could she turn down the insistence of Peon, her assistant at the Guild Hall. The chestplate often suffocated her breasts, her joints restricted from full practical use, and the suit appeared tight in all regions. She most certainly appreciated the effort her subordinate put into his services, but not even the most charitable and expensive of armors could hope to match the perfect fit and defensive capabilities of the armor her Master gifted to her, all those years ago...


"Sub-Chief!" A meek voice interrupted Arabella from drifting off into a daydream of more favorable days.


"Huh? Oh, Peon. You know how I feel about you addressing me so formally." Arabella responded sternly, which caused Peon to slump his slender shoulders poignantly.


"I'm sincerely sorry, Miss Lamm. I wouldn't bother you if I didn't have the most urgent of reasons." He thrust a scroll of rough parchment into the gloved hands of Arabella, who was more interested in the clamant tone of Peon's voice over the contents of a simple scroll than the aggravating fact that Peon still refused to call the Sub-Chief by her first name.


"It has to do with the alterations in coordinated patrol routes for today."


"Alterations? What's the meaning of this?"


"W-Well you see, Miss Lamm, Skulkers have been active in the woods outside of Asdale, so we have reasons to suspect they're still in the area."


Arabella unrolled the parchment, which revealed the local forest surrounding the Guild Hall, along with its few trails that led travelers and caravans to and from Asdale, ebbing outside the edges of the map, Lamm knowing that they led through the neighboring villages and eventually the lapidarian realm of Ewigen Stein. Branching off the main road some direction South was a highlighted trail that Lamm could not recall seeing prior. She trailed a gloved finger along the highlighted route, wondering if a glimpse of memory would pop up and recognize the new path, but no such cognizant flashback sparked in the mind of the curious Sub-Chief.


Arabella surreptitiously glanced over at Peon, who had not noticed the gaze of his superior. Peon was fidgeting with the giant tunic that draped down the boy's small frame like an elderly night gown, as if extremely nervous about the outcome of his report. At least, that's what Arabella made of the situation. She also took that brief moment to realize just how shiny the cyan locks of Peon's disheveled hair were.


"Thank you, Peon. I'll be joining the Cadets now. Dismissed." She held up a hand in a dismissive gesture, which Peon gave back to the Sub-Chief, apparently relieved that Arabella did not inquire further. Realizing the time, Lamm broke her casual saunter into a brisk speed walk as she would be late to the appointed time of meeting otherwise, her armor clinking lightly as she made her way out the gargantuan Hall doors. Peon giggled bemusedly before attending his other duties as the Sub-Chief's loyal lap dog.


The sudden presence of the Sub-Chief startled Faust, who was comfortably snoozing in an upright position, hands crossed behind his head as he let the sun dapple through the large trees and onto his face, gently swaying with the light breeze that danced through the vibrant green leaves of the Wald Forest. Faust couldn't recall ever being in such a tranquil environment, save the serene silence of Gwen's shrine. Faust couldn't help but keep his mind on the curiosity of Gwen's location.


Earlier, he had spun around a pair of feminine shoulders draped with long pink hair very similar to Gwendolyn's, but he was greeted with the tip of a knife to his throat, and the gaze of amaranth eyes so devoid of emotion that they felt more dangerous than the weapon pointed to his neck, which he hadn't seen drawn in the quick instance he spun the obvious stranger.


"I wouldn't recommend doing that." She commented plainly, as if the woman casually spoke in threats all the time. Faust noted how cute her voice would sound if it wasn't cloaked in danger.


"I-I'm sorry, ma'am. You looked very much like a friend of mine." He spoke tightly, trying to breath in a fashion that didn't force his throat on the deadly object. Faust sighed with relief as the knife was lowered, although he didn't see it sheathed into any pouch or pocket. Only gone in the blink of an eye.


"Hm. You look much like a friend of mine, admittedly." The stranger responded thoughtfully, examining Faust intently with her gorgeous eyes, the boy feeling himself becoming entranced momentarily before the woman cut off eye contact with the blink of long eyelashes. She shrugged indifferently. "Odd."


The woman turned and walked away, her long pink hair flowing elegantly as it followed behind her, into a corridor and out of sight. Faust turned behind around as he heard the boisterous snort of Grandma Took's beak-for-nose.


"I would be careful if I were you, Outsider. That was the Warden of Schnee Palast you just laid your hands on. Act up like that to her again, and I reckon the families of anyone who has ever laid eyes upon you will be killed in an instant; you, however, wouldn't get such mercy." Faust gulped as Granny Took cackled, the lad pictured those gorgeous amaranth eyes reflecting his own bloodied body. He blinked as Maxence confirmed she was prepared for whatever Cadet work lie ahead of them, dispelling the torturous images from his mind and fighting back the urge to tightly hug his fiery companion.


Faust sighed the flashback away, returning the raised hand gesture that was given to him by an approaching Arabella Lamm, outside the Guild Hall and onto the main road. Arabella herself felt an odd sense of nostalgia when she looked at the cloaked boy, as if she had met him prior. Nevertheless, she couldn't shake the slight pleasure she gained by being in the boy's presence, killing off the chance of slipping a small smile as she frowned at them.


"I've got quite the adventure for us, Cadets. Our scouts drew out a different patrol route for us, so I'm just as new as you to what lies ahead of us. All things considered, I doubt we'll find anything of interest." She looked ahead, shielding her eyes with a steel gauntlet as she looked down the path. "We've got quite the walk ahead of us, so we best get moving whilst the sun still exhibits all its colors."


The two trailed behind Lamm, and the group had fallen into a peaceful trance of silence as they made their way along the hard dirt path. The forest was almost completely hushed, save the dancing of the silky wind and the vast rustling of leaves, rivaling the intense sonancy of the rolling waves along Helvet Coast. It was a lengthy duration before the patrol parties silence was broken.


"It's always nice to know the ones you raise arms alongside. So, tell me a little about yourselves, Cadets. We'll start with you, Sandals." Arabella chuckled jovially as she directed the attention to Faust, who laughed nervously. He explained his simple life; grew up without parents, living with an aunt that was never home. A vague and broad generalization of his encounter with Gwendolyn, and the friend who introduced him to the Shamans, Lulu. Faust concluded with an awkward cough, hoping his explanation would suffice, and that his companions wouldn't be completely disappointed. He knew that it was Max's turn, and he would be lying if he told himself that he wasn't completely interested in the history of the girl he kicked ass alongside, and also made out with. Faust shook his head, trying to keep his face from becoming hot as his mind brought up the latter half. Whatever Max had to say, he was interested.

 

[EliCarter]

Max listened half-heartedly to Faust's origins, curling a long strand of red-hair around an armored finger as she floated along beside the duo. What she did hear, she was interested by, but appearing disinterested would keep the balance in her favor and discourage the 'growing attached' situation that came along when two people traveled together.


Suddenly, the spotlight was on her. They expected her to tell them about herself. Honestly, she could think of nothing she wanted to do less, but something told her she wasn't getting out of it.


"Ah... uh..." she cleared her throat, tapping her fingers along her armored hips, "There's nothing to really tell, I'm a normal guy, who grew up in a normal house, with normal parents, and now I'm... on my own. And then I met this boy right here, and now I'm with you all. Any questions?" she asked, raising a brow, "No? Okay, moving on, why don't you tell us about yourself... ma'am," she murmured, almost forcing herself to give the woman the respect that she rarely gave anyone. Hopefully, her very broad and very... blank background would be open enough for speculation, and blunt enough to suggest that she didn't really want to talk about her origins.

 

[Sabrina]

Although she was genuinely interested in the history of the young ones she was traveling with, and it was her idea to share stories, the Sub-Chief could not give the conversation her full attention, and instead reverted to taking mental notes and giving slight nods of acknowledgement as she observed the scenery around them. After all, the three were out here for a reason. The rough dirt path led them under canopies of thick vegetation, splaying bright rays of all colors that dappled the patrol like a 'disco ball', a queer antique from Earth that the Witch had presented to Arabella one day, which hangs above the great wooden desk in her office. Sub-Chief Lamm found herself wondering if the human boy, who she had named Sandals due to the odd clogs he wore on his feet, had ever encountered a disco ball throughout the life he spoke of, which seemed simple enough, save the accompaniment of the Witch and the loss of his parents (which Lamm hoped weren't connected). She also found it odd that she had not met the one Faust had called Lulu, who was the individual responsible for inviting him to the Shaman organization, quote.


Had the Witch coerced this Lulu woman into inviting the boy, or was it through the woman that the boy had met the Witch?


Arabella doubted these questions led to anything grand and dramatic, though she couldn't help but let her mind wonder as the Sub-Chief began realizing she knew very little about the enigmatic pink-haired magician, sorceress, alchemist, adviser, and whatever else occupation the woman failed to claim; and despite her relatively-youthful appearance, Lamm figured the Witch was older than she appeared to be. Much, much older.


The young lass, who shared the same name as the Rafniran General responsible for wiping out the ancient ancestors of the Shamans, the abstemious organization written in Andere history as the Austere, defined the life of an ordinary boy. Arabella took this description as the execution of a term that Gwendolyn once explained to her as an 'Average Joe', as the young lady was very- Lamm caught the rays of sun that reflected off of what extremely little cover Maxence bore- very female.


"Normal, eh?" Arabella asked thoughtfully as she observed the girl floating above the path they were traveling down. She was going to comment further, and explain her own life story as the offspring of two noble military leaders belonging to the Vanguard, the prestigious forces carrying the banner of the Capital from the center of Andere herself, and about her learning the ways of the sword from a young age, but her attention was robbed by the ending of the path, which led the group into a circular grove secluded by high walls of jagged stone that would have Arabella under the impression that they stumbled upon ancient ruins if the woman wasn't utterly sure she knew every inch of this vast forest. She clapped her hands together, the rivets of her gauntlets clinking together as she did.


"Alright, Cadets, let's split up and search the clearing for anything unusual. I know this sounds like an pseudo-archaeological field trip for children, but I would be lying to you both if I said I was familiar and not-at-all suspicious of our current surroundings." She said gravely, though immediately perked up with a jubilant smile. "Well, let's get to it!"


(Bad post is bad and rushed due to stress. Sorry, loves.)

 

[Delta]

Something about the grove just didn't seem right to Faust. How convenient was it for them to come across an almost-perfectly symmetrical opening, filled with the occasional bushy foliage that the young man could only assume hid horrors-unseen and bordered- by gargantuan jagged rocks of light grey tone that didn't match any of the other terrain, which was mostly a sea of hazel and vibrant green. Even the trees surrounding the grove appeared extra-dismal, their leaves drained of the bright neighboring jade, depleted to a gloomy myrtle; yet- against the general moral of every horror movie and the tragic scenes of every action flick- Faust followed his comrades into the area that was caked with an aura of 'nope'.


In the instant he stepped foot off of the trail and into the grove, his heart was gripped with a sensation of dread and poignancy, and his bones suddenly felt sluggishly heavy. Although it was faint, Faust could have sworn he was hearing a low humming noise coming from within the grove, almost like a minute bellow of power from within the circle itself. The thin hairs on his arms and neck began standing up as the idea that they were standing above a hollow pit of who-knows-what chewed on his emotions. He had already stood above impending-nothingness the 'day', or atleast Faust thought it had been within a day, in the Metal Gem, and wasn't too terribly fond of that time, either. It was the Sub-Chief, Arabella Lamm, who had shaken him from his fears.


"Alright, Cadets, let's split up and search the clearing for anything unusual. I know this sounds like an pseudo-archaeological field trip for children, but I would be lying to you both if I said I was familiar and not-at-all suspicious of our current surroundings."


Faust laughed at the comparison, as hindsight had listed off numerous components of the situation that were similar to their current situations, although none of the elementary field trips he had gone on in Helvet Coast left the impression that he was about to swallowed up by the earth below his feet. It was in that instant that a sudden thought, riddled with a hint of paranoia and genuine curiosity, lodged itself into his thought process like a persistent wedge.


What if Arabella had planned leading them into a remote location, hidden from the outside world by high walls of stone? Or even worse... What if it was Gwen's idea to have the Sub-Chief kill him off? After all, Faust failed to finish running his laundry before they took off for this strange world, and he was sure that would have succeeded in angering her. What dispelled this paranoia from his usually-calm mindset was not his trust in the pink-haired woman he had grown up with, nor was it the outwardly-compassion for the betterment of others he had read from the Sub-Chief that was to train him in becoming an able-bodied fighter and member of an organization he'd thought his best friend Lulu made up; it was the humming sound.


It's low tone had turned into what seemed like a soft bellow of humor, as if reading Faust's suspicion had caused it to have a good laugh. After that, it's sound was more distinct and the boy could begin sifting through the different intensities of the vibration, pin-pointing it to a large shrub that fluffed up against a particularly-high wall of rock. His eyes trailed down the greenery along its gnarled branches, and his eyes widened as he noticed that the tree was planted into a large platform of chipped wood, almost like a cellar door, and not the usual packed dirt. He turned his head slightly, his rich eyes not daring to leave the door as he called out to the others, who were wandering around the grove in different areas.


"Uhhh, guys? I really think you need to come check this out!"


When the two had picked up the pace and made their way to him, Faust began pulling the roots out from the door, at the excited command of Arabella Lamm. With one strenuous heave, the boy ripped the shrub- and the door- out of the ground, and he cast it aside, which landed on the ground faraway with a distant boom. Faust had had more trouble with simple yardwork for his aunt back on Earth, and yet uprooting both a tree and a hinged-door was almost easy; was he getting stronger? The boy felt a brief surge of excitement course through his body, though he was quickly robbed of his pride as his eyes were lost in an infinite abyss of darkness, contained within a shaft of ancient-looking stone bricks. The Sub-Chief's face hinted a grim tone, so Faust knew he wasn't alone in his feeling of dread, although he highly doubted this would change her mind of exploring further and instead simply leading them back to the Guild for hot food and warm beds.


"Well, let's go adventuring, eh friends?"


Arabella was already submerging herself into the inky darnkess, and was out of earshot of Faust's audible sigh, though this did not prevent him from following behind her. It was like wearing heavily-tinted sunglasses in an empty movie theater, and the walls were all close together, making it inconvenient for two bodies to descend upon chipped-brick stairs side-by-side. On instinct, Faust reached his hand backwards to grab for Maxence's hand, as it was natural for him to want to keep hold of another when in a dark space to ensure no one tripped or got lost. He had not found her hand for quite some time, and he had felt numerous sensations whilst trailing for his hand; he had hoped that he merely caressed her armor accidentally- but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't convince himself that ironclad armor possessed the consistency and feel of soft plumpness. Faust held his breath in sharply, bracing for a scornful feminine bellow of rage and an extendable ax-blade through his skull.

 

[EliCarter]

Max was used to bleak, desolate, environments. But what made this patch of uninteresting land stand out, was that it was a dead space in a whole section of life. It was strange to her, it was like someone having a patch of dead skin on their arm, while the skin around it was perfectly healthy.


She was quiet, only halfheartedly participating in the inspection of the area, and she even managed to maintain her bored expression when Faust discovered his strangely placed tree, and proceeded to rip it out of the ground. Impressed, but making an attempt to hide it, she waited, her eyes widening as the sprawling dark stone lined tunnel was revealed. The actual stonework seemed extremely old, and the power it radiated made her feel sick, that feeling only intensified when she realized they intended to go down the dark path.


"Well, let's go adventuring, eh friends?"


"This is one of the most insane ideas I've ever heard, I hope you have back-up on standby, or some form of communication that will allow you to contact someone when the tendrils of Abyssus reach out and suck us into their depths," she snapped, eyes glowing furiously as she followed the group down into the bleak darkness. She had never done well with underground places.





"General, we've forced our way past their choke point, we'll be behind the walls within minutes, the keep is ours," Langston said as he threw open the flaps of Maxence's tent.


Hard ruby eyes met the soldier's inquisitive ones, and the smaller man's mouth dried as he began to wonder if his brash interruption was a mistake. He felt slightly more at easy, however, when Maxence's lips had twisted into a wicked smile, every fang making an appearance as he rose from his seat. It took him seconds to reach Langston, and even less time for him to grab his sword, his flames already beginning to spew forth from his pores and surround him in their unrelenting fury.





The familiar smell of war graced his nostrils as he shoved aside the tent's flaps. Piss, feces, blood, and dying essence, he greeted them all with a sense of giddiness, the odor of war would never cease to excite him.


Maxence wished he had taken the chance to notice that something was wrong, that his base camp should never be completely empty of all presences, despite the fact that they were seizing a keep. If he had done that, he would've been able to avoid the ground crumbling beneath his feet and the terrible fall deep into the ground, one of his wings snapping painfully as the enclosed whole took no mercy on him as gravity dragged him downward into the dark.





A warm hand grazed dangerously close to her chest and Max's breath caught in her throat, snapped from her flashback as she jerked away from his touch. Her eyes began to glow fiercely as her hair began to flicker, forcing the slight glow from these actions to illuminate the tunnel in front of her, revealing Faust in all his gropey-glory.





"You vile trash, I've wrenched men inside out for FAR less," she hissed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she pointed her small hand at him, "I'll have your he-"





A wave of exhaustion hit her, and the dim glow her hair and eyes cast vanished completely, throwing her in the dark once more. The abrupt change in lighting caused her to stumble, and she almost lost her footing, her weak limbs barely able to catch her.





Vomit, he was going to vomit. He had connected with the ground hard enough to jar his skull out of his skin, and he was feeling it in every part of his body.





A trap, it had been a trap... for all his cunning... for all his knowledge, he was stupid. Why hadn't he posted guards, why had he let his own guard down?





He winced when the first rock landed on top of him, followed by a... second one? And as they began to cover him, he realized in horror... they were burying him alive... a group of his men were... burying him. Terror seized him as the earth began to pack on top of him, his cries of anger morphed into fury, and he promised then, when he escaped, he would wreak hell on their very existence.





And he did.





She shivered as a moist stone ran along her side, almost causing her to cry out. In a frantic panic, she reached out and grabbed onto Faust's wrist, pulling herself forward to match his stride as her body quaked violently. She was rather unsettled by her own reaction, even when scared, she had never reacted so... wimpishly. She forced her quaking to stop and steeled her jaw, her normal glare returning to her face as the confidence returned to her steps.





"Don't get confused, I'm just making sure you don't get lost, or rip anything else out the ground that will force Ms. Chief over here to send us any deeper into the labyrinthine depths of torture,"

 

[Sabrina]

The Sub-Chief had her doubts regarding the overall idea of venturing into the tunnel that descended into the inky void, but she could not allow this doubt to be read by the Cadets, especially not after the human boy, Faust- or Clogs- had uprooted a large bushy shrub that had wormed its gnarled roots into the bedding of an old cellar-like trapdoor. In that instant, Arabella Lamm began questioning if the boy was truly as human as he persisted, especially since his companion was- as the Sub-Chief began concluding- a being of the land of Ewigen Geist, or the Eldritch Spiritland, a Sphere of Andere inhabited by both bizarre and pulchritudinous sorcery, birthplace to many creatures and spell-weavers that fabricate the darkest corners of mythology. It was either that, or the boy was simply unable to act apprehensively or with restraint due to a belief that he was still dreaming. She had read the disbelief on his face despite what he had gone through over the past few days that she was informed by the Witch that he was present in the Spirit World. Either way, the boy had accomplished a feat that was more impressive than he was aware of, and the Sub-Chief noted that she would have to spar with the boy within the times to come.


It wasn't until she had taken the first few ironclad steps onto the stony steps that descended into the gloom before them that the anxiety began to sink into her pores, although the effect was not imminent, but instead a gradually escalating process. Her stomach began to turn slowly inside of itself at the notion of poignancy that tugged at her heart, which filled her head with crepuscular ideas of sad events, ideas that the common individual would find upsetting. But as they descended further down a hall that seemed to vary in properties, ranging from wide spaces to confined quarters, the affliction began to bite harder. The melancholy that sunk into her being proceeding the mistakes and errors of her past were resurrected from the back of her conscious, rolling in like bitter fog on the still waters of her psyche and polluting the Sub-Chief's mindset with flashbacks of her failures, the loss of comrades and the trust broken by evil cloaked with the mask of brotherhood, the blood spilled by her blades and the tearing of family bonds, all of which echoing boisterously among the deep fog like steep forlorn thunder.


She was robbed of her indignant brooding by the sudden flash of ruby-like light behind her, which Arabella noted had revealed before them a large room supported by bulky columns of cracked stone, and Lamm would have drawn her sword if she didn't register the sharp hissing tone of Maxence's voice as she lashed violent threats- or promises, if she truly was The General, a scourge of legend in Andere's history. Arabella heard that General Iblis was a male, so she had doubts that the girl really WAS the Rafnir monster, unless he miss-swung his sword and had effectively turned himself into a youthful lass. The boy seemed hurt by her words, the features of his face softening like a puppy being disciplined verbally, and soon afterwards the girl had yelled out, immediately grabbing hold of the 'wretch' who's head she demanded.


"To be young again," the Sub-Chief mumbled under her breath enviously, softly sighing as comic-relief had kept her brooding-emotions under control.


Maxence had spoken once more, but it did not register to Lamm, who's attention was robbed by a slim figure illuminated briefly before the ruby-light died out. Fear gripped at her stomach, looping knots of her insides as she quickly unsheathed her blade, bringing the broadsword forward and backing the Cadets into the narrow hallway they had begun to exit; if she were to engage in combat with a creature shrouded in darkness, the Sub-Chief figured she lessened the odds in its favor by putting themselves in a tunnel with one direction to reach potential prey- forward. As the light died out and they were immediately cloaked once more in the inky void, Arabella heard the entity move toward them, producing a sharp clicking sound of stiletto against stone that had sounded oddly familiar to her.

 

[Delta]

The sharp clicking noise registered almost instantly, filling Faust's ears and head with nostalgia, listening to the jubilant pep of heels onto stone, identical in pitch to when he was a young boy and the rhythm had greeted him for the first time on the cracked stone within the thick shroud of trees, filling his life with imagination that just felt so real; and had proven to be real about two days ago.


"Gwen!" Faust called out, failing to suppress the joy in his usually-nonchalant tone as the dreadful anxiety that bit at his heart and soul was washed away by a wave of nostalgic amaranth and childhood mentoring.


The room they were about to enter was suddenly bathed in a bright iridescent light emitted from a glowing orb produced from the outstretched palm of Gwendolyn's left hand, roughly the size of a softball, or a personal basketball that came with the lastic hoop-kit that attached to the back of one's door. One spring day, the Witch had used a form of 'basic' transmutation to expand the width of the hoop, for the sake of encouraging a ten-year-old Faust to enjoy putting dirty gym shorts and t-shirts into a laundry basket. Unfortunately, the defiance of the Law of Conservation of Mass exhibited by the expansion of the plastic hoop caused a tear between dimensions to tear through the fabric of the hoop, absorbing it and closing in on itself, violently warping the consistency and ultimately ripping Faust's door from its hinges and sending splinters of wood like shrapnel in every direction. He had, from that day forward, found a sense of content and preference in the traditional method of cleaning dirty laundry.


The boy waited a few seconds before following Arabella Lamm into the large room, hoping that Gwendolyn's flashlight-of-a-softball didn't defy another scientific or magical Law that would erase their current surrounding from the fabrication of Andere. When everything stayed intact and no one was plastic-hooped, the boy took an apprehensive step, immediately turning the steps of apprehension into quicksteps of excitement leading his outstretched-arms around the thin shoulders of Gwendolyn, who's face beamed brighter than the orb that had lifted from her palm and rested on the pointy-tip of her brimmed witch hat as she hugged her self-proclaimed apprentice.


"Hey there, Pup and Gang!" She called out in her usual peppy tone, waving a thin hand to the Sub-Chief and Max. Faust noted that she had not appeared any different in attitude or demeanor, even though he was still gripped with a sensation of impending-doom that he couldn't shake, no matter how hard he would cling to the warm embrace of the Witch.


"I know the sensation is rather bizarre, but I find it curious to find even one such as yourself down in depths like these, Witch. Curious even further is the coincidence that we would meet." Arabella spoke casually.


"Bizarre indeed," the Witch nodded, "you should know by now that I practically thrive off of dungeons much like these, Sub-Chief. Did I not mention that I was entrusting the custody of my company to you whilst I underwent research in neighboring ruins?"


"You did not," Arabella smiled amusedly.


Gwendolyn cocked her head to the side in curiosity, the orb at the end of her hat bouncing animatedly. "I didn't? ...Whoops."


The Witch shrugged and immediately perked up. "Well, I'm glad we did meet, as I would very much like to relish in the company of ye three as we approach the final chamber at the bottom of these steps."


Gwen traced her finger from the central entrance of the room, where the company of three had initially came from, and followed it along a straight path colliding with the opposite side of the hall, a perfectly symmetrical central flight of steps, though the room hosted other separate tunnels.


Since the red-haired Max had not wretched him inside out earlier, he was not apprehensive in tenderly grabbing hold of her hand as the Witch and Sub-Chief were speaking among themselves.


"I don't know about you, but I think it's pretty chilly down here," Faust whispered. "If I may be so bold, I'd like to keep you close until we leave this dungeon." The chill that bit at his skin wasn't unlike Helvet High's expensive air-conditioning, which they blasted like a freezer during the early summer months, which forced Lulu and Faust to inch their desks closer together during class to keep themselves from freezing. He suddenly thought how intimate such an act would presume with that of another, other than his quirky best friend from school. " Y-Y'know, because it's cold and stuff," he added sheepishly, hoping the sudden touch of warmth to his cheeks wouldn't be noticeable against the dim glow of Max's hair.


"C'mon, kids," Gwen called out, "we're descending once more now!"


Traveling down the stone flight of stairs wasn't as gut-wrenchingly horrendous as before, thanks to the illuminating company of the Witch, who's pink hair manipulated the orb into casting a dazzling display of primose, which danced along the myriad of cracks dug into the grey stone of the tight walls and stairs. What wasn't moss or debris almost carved pictures of alien symbols and depictions of oddities in the sides of Faust's vision as they descended. There would come times when Faust would look down at his feet and find that what wasn't immediate stone steps was nothing more than a steep drop, farther than the light of the orb could penetratingly reveal. The boy began wondering if what they were delving deeper and deeper into was actually the ancient catacombs of an older civilization, as the stairs apparently never-ended; nor did the cryptic engravings that danced wickedly along the sides of his vision, before disappearing into the inky darkness that hung unnaturally close to the back of the pack, seemingly killing off the light of Gwendolyn's palm as soon as it possibly could, as if what wasn't obnoxiously strong in intensity would be eagerly consumed by the ruins themselves, wishing to hide whatever lurked behind features-unknown for the sake of the group.


What seemed like an eternity later had led the pack to a circular room. The walls were similar to the rest of the cavern, though the moss was a sickeningly-purple hue and seemingly oozed from cracks in the grey stone, and the water that visibly dripped from spaces high above into puddles by Faust's feet did so silently, although he knew it should be producing a loud plopping echo. In the center of the room was a wide sloppy circle that Faust soon came to realize was a pit, although it looked more like a burial pit in a cemetery than the Gladiatorial-kicking spot famously portrayed in 300. The sudden twitch of apprehension on the Witche's face sparked a sudden knot in his stomach- he hadn't seen her perpetually vibrant expression take on such a frightening feature before. Faust hadn't realized for a long moment that his breath was pluming profusely in front of his face, as if he was shoveling snow in the dead of bitter winter.


Like the wet caress of a slimy tendril, a voice both ancient and cryptic whispered from everywhere within Faust's head a language that the boy did not recognize, and highly doubted was spoken in a time during the reign of Mankind. Despite never having heard anything remotely similar to this speech, Faust felt he could barely understand what the omniscient voice was saying.


"Who dares... disturb...?" The voice wheezed heavily, a sharp sound similar to the roaring of a semi-truck horn contained within the confinements of a Pringles can. Gwen stepped forward, facing the pit, and speaking to it in the same eldritch language, though much more rushed and possibly desperate. It was much harder for the boy to fathom what his close companion was guttering, and he could only make out tidbits of her speech.


"Slumbering Void... 'tis I.. of the ancient... no knowledge of your presence here... hasty departure of your sleep!"


The pit cried out indignantly, its speech sharp and furious.


"Leave?! Nay, Usurper; the General's failed tomb, my birth, shall become the birth.. of your tomb!"


The walls and ceiling began to rumble boisterously with the intensity of an ancient evil bellow quaking it, and Faust found himself suddenly running out the entrance to the burial spot, on the heels of Gwendolyn and Arabella Lamm, tightly gripping the slender wrist of Maxence, following a desperately-fast pace that he would have been worried anyone could follow, but that particular sensation of distress was suddenly wiped clean as he realized the one he was concerned for could levitate. The halls that were once so silent it had worried Faust were now echoing with the vicious whispering and demonic chatter of entities unknown, filling his ears with bribes and tales of horrific death and carnage in languages he shouldn't have been able to translate. Primal fear had begun to affect the boy's vision, warping the stony walls like the violent head-turning of one who stood in front of a carnival mirror.


"We've got company!" The Sub-Chief called out, accompanying her stern announcement with the unsheathing hum of her broadsword as they run upwards. Faust peered over the shoulders of the adults in front of him, and he noticed horrifically at just what she was referencing.


Filling one of the large rooms that they had descended through were soldiers, or the animated skeletal remains of, dressed in rotten uniforms of a civilization Faust did not recognize. They brandished rusty spears and swords, though everyone in the group knew that the dull blades would not hurt any less when piercing their jugulars. Though he was absolutely terrified, experiencing the type of doomed fear that novels or films could not dream of accurately depicting did not stop his clogged-feet from following in the aggressive strides of Arabella Lamm, which led them on a course heading directly into the frontal of the horde.


"Faust, flank from my left. Maxence-" she almost choked on the name, "to my right!"


The Sub-Chief of the Shaman Guild did not hesitate in bringing herself body-first into the fray of undead warriors, which had served as a technique of offensive-defense, to break the defense of an opponent through surprise tactics, as the mind prepares oneself for the initial swing of a blade. The frontal managed to stun the closest zombie, an armored skeleton that had dead flesh clinging to some of its body, and Lamm brought the side of her sword into the exposed spine of her enemy, which caused almost the entire body to explode into musty powder, crashing the heavy armor to the floor.


"Strike heavily; the enemy is brittle in defense!" Arabella roared. Serving as a leader in battle had gifted the Sub-Chief with the ability to think clearly and give out commands to those under her, though she doubted either the boy or the girl could fathom what she hollered; many beginners to combat suffered from tunnel-vision, and their rational senses became blocked out by the intensity of fear or anger.


Faust's knees threatened to buckle in on him as his friends fought valiantly against the evil army that sluggishly marched towards them, moldy boots echoing the warring thunder of past strife. This was nothing like dueling with Vilmos in Austere days prior; the combat was facilitated and controlled, though Faust had tapped into combative emotion ever-so-slightly. This was different. Dread washed over his body and psyche as corpses began to ooze from the dirt behind the holes in the stony ruins like ravenous spiders; some were missing arms, while others had ribs absent or chunks of skull. The eyes of these nightmares shared the common glow of an icy blue, which was tainted with the corruptive hues of red and black. Their bony fingers began to reach for him, clawing at the invaders of their eternal resting grounds, and wet fear paralyzed him, his feet heavily planted in place. When his mind had succumbed to the crashing waves of terror, and the boy was positive these ruins that he discovered- no, uncovered- would become his grave, a voice of omniscient command and valor sang out clearly like the beautiful pitch of song, filled his head and granted him clarity, dispelling the negative emotions that nearly gave him up to the undead.


"Fenrir!" Gwendolyn shouted, which was Faust's first name- and the name given to the beastly deity known as the Sun Devourer, the Wolf of Ragnarok, and the Aesir Aggressor.


The name sent ebbs of vigor through his blood, warming up his body to a temperature that caused the clinging frost to audibly hiss steam off the air around him. Brilliant light began to pulsate around his body, encasing the boy in an unruly aura of bright orange. He looked down at his hands, which were surrounded by an aggressive shade of Calypso orange, the aura extending from his fingertips and forming what looked uncannily similar to large claws. Extending from where his tailbone ended was a sticky orange auric tail, shaggy and unkept like that of a wolve's. With all sense of doom and fear wiped from his conscious, the boy was invigorated with a deep sense of calm offense, and the orange one began a relentless attack on the animated corpses that sought to end the lives of some of the first people to ever enter his. The enormous room would flash with brilliant orange light as he attacked. When he swept his hand, the aura extended into a gargantuan wall of aggressive aura, reducing those who took the incoming sweep to piles of dust. Faust was breathing heavily from his mouth and nostrils, but the sound that came from the orange shell was not his own; it was the deeply guttural panting of a hungry beast. The boy, letting the cloak control his actions, began jumping from all angles of the massive room, breaking apart columns that no longer connected to the ceiling and using it as a club to scatter the bodies of incoming enemies, which still continued to pour from every corner and staircase sluggishly, lumbering with the weight of newly-awoken motor skills. The aura seemed to attack savagely and unruly, running along walls and lunging itself at its foes. As awesome in power as its attacks were, it failed in slowing the haggard march of dead soldiers. The aura began to pulsate violently and flicker, matching the rapid beating of the host body's heart.


"Adalbert!" Gwendolyn called out Faust's middle name- and the name of one of the Chief Gods of Andere, who guides the noblest of hearts and pinpoints the tactical decisions of the bravest of strategists. Adalbert serves in the forefront of the spirit forces in their blight against the Rafnir.


Vanilla white light began to creep up and envelope the crazed orange aura, turning the bristling scarlet body into the solid plate of armor, monstrous claws subdued and replaced by strong white gauntlets. Though he had never wielded a weapon and stuck with the solid punches of his fists, Faust found himself holding a magnificent silver lance in his left hand that had to have been ten feet long, at least. In his right was a shield that stood like a wall in his arm, and Faust's eyes began scanning all angles and perspectives of the rooms, pointing out key positions from which the horde advanced. Where ever he pointed with the lance, pillars of brilliant light spilled forth, sending the enemies that surged forward crashing boisterously backwards from whence they came, sealing them off like a coating of engineers putty. Soldiers had come in from his three-o'clock, and Faust brought the shield he carried downwards at the ground, which sent up waves of light, scattering and crushing the undead that came upon him and his group. Knowing in advance that this temporary boost of magnificent power was about to reach its end, Faust slammed the shield down adjacent to the main staircase, allowing his allies unhindered retreat from the zombie hordes. As he pressed the gargantuan shield against the doorway behind him, the suit cloaked around him was no longer appropriately proportioned to the massive room, and the armor that had him stand at colossal heights was fit to his body, much like Arabella Lamm's. The spear he possessed harmlessly passed through his comrades, and he charged forward, encasing his party in the bright weapon of light, which served towards incinerating any skeletal limbs that clawed through gaps in the hall walls. The light of the Andere Sun became brighter and blinding as they rushed closer and closer.


When the party came bursting through the trapdoor and landed in the grove, Max had called out Faust's name shortly before he lost consciousness and planted face first in the soil, his body absorbed in violent spasm as the Aether essence of gods began fighting with his own. When Gwendolyn and Arabella Lamm desperately turned the boy over, his eyes were rolled into the back of his head; blood seeped from his eyes like trails of tears, gushed from his nose and mouth, and exuded from his fingertips and scars from his past that reopened.


"W-We have to get him back to the Guild!" The Sub-Chief stammered, panic ironically evident in the voice of the one who had commanded legions that she watched die time and time again.


The Witch wiped back tears as she nodded. It was even more odd for her to worry for the life of a human boy; she who had witnessed the death of gods and solar systems, the carnage of every major war in Mankind's history, and the onslaught and extinction of races that inhabited Earth long before humans. And yet, she had called upon the Aether essence that he inherited from processes unknown before and during his birth. The Witch could not say precisely, as she was not there for his birth. She had certainly felt it when he was born, although she was in a dimensional realm far from that of his birth. It had been the same way when the General, Maxence Iblis, had begun to wreak havoc unprecedented on the Spirit World. Whenever an individual of unique lineage, untapped power, and destiny was born, those of ancient abilities and status could sense it, much like a ripple. When Fenrir Adalbert Faust was conceived, she had translated the ironic descent he carried within him.


The Witch shook her head, expelling the insight from consuming her attention, and began running alongside Maxence and Arabella Lamm, who held the unconscious, bloody, and jerking body of the human boy, Faust.