Arc 1

Chapter 3C

Far in the north...

“Hurry. We’re almost at the standing stones!” A man with a bow the length of his body shouted as he released flame-tipped arrows into the horde of Shadowless.

A few feet in front of him were old men and women, who struggled to keep up with the pace of the others. Behind the man was a large assembly of magical beasts resembling sheep and cows, along with several comrades either wielding staffs or bows.

Storm Hunters and Flame Falcons along with fire spells like Fireball and Ignition fired off in succession, holding the advance of the Shadowless.

“Eckard. We must move, we cannot hold back against this sort of tide!” One of the great bow wielder’s subordinates begged, his hands bruised and blistered from pulling back the bowstring on his greatbow too many times.

“We will not leave the old to die! They have taken care of us since we were children, how can we abandon them so!?” Eckard shouted back. “We Shepherds have always looked after our own!”

Without waiting for a response, Eckard gripped his bow like one would a stave and charged at the horde of Shadowless. His men behind him quickly followed suit, and the horde of Shadowless was halted momentarily as they scattered.

“Storm Hunter Barrage! Release!” Eckard shouted. As one the group of archers jammed the bottom of their bows into the ground, and fired off a Storm Hunter in melee range. The results from such a brutal method of attack, so far from the ranged preference that archers are known for, easily tore to bits all the Shadowless within five meters.

“Once more!” Another barrage slammed into the Shadowless, yet where one faded into nothingness, another replaced them.

Before Eckard could holler at his men to prepare another shot, a frail hand was placed on his arm. When he turned around he saw a familiar old face.

“Uncle, please keep moving. We’ll keep them at bay!” Eckard beckoned him to move on.

“Eckard. You and your men must go. Your generation cannot fall here, and June would not forgive you if you were to leave her alone in the world.”

“But-”

“No buts.” The old man with a crooked back gave a smile that was missing teeth. The man’s hand that was clutching a cane started to glow red and tendrils of flame lashed about.

“Uncle, you-” Eckard recognized the suicidal spell that the old man was preparing to use.

“Go!” Although his strength had declined over the years, the former warrior pushed Eckard backwards as he hobbled forward. “This is the only thing I can do for the Shepherds now!”

Several other aged warriors also walked forward, their bodies surrounded by twisting flames that resembled a fiery tornado.

Eckard could only grimly acknowledge their determination, and he bit back tears as he yelled at

the warriors to retreat. Dawn was still a ways off.

“I can see them! We’re almost there!” Someone in front of the mass migration shouted.

Eckard gritted his teeth and continued to hurl arrow after arrow in the horde behind them. Even the sacrifice of the elderly had only given them about an hour’s worth of time. He was not sure whether or not they would make it without even more sacrafices.

“There’s Shadowless in front of us!” A women screamed and Eckard felt his blood run cold. Most of the warriors were concentrated at the rear, and there was nobody capable of fighting at the front of the band save for two scouts.

“Who is that floating in the air?!” One of the warriors suddenly shouted and pointed. Above their group, high in the sky was the silhouette of a human figure. Eckard had heard stories of human shaped Shadowless from his sister, June, during the incident two years ago.

In the darkness, it appeared just like the Shadowless that were attacking them from the front and back.

Without hesitation, Eckard nocked an arrow and released it at the figure above them. It whistled through the air as it approached the figure’s head with unerring accuracy.

A green light flashed and the arrow suddenly halted in midair.

Eckard watched in shock as four crystal jewels, one blue, one red, one green, and one orange gave off bright light as they appeared besides the man, illuminating the figure of Lin.

The yellow jewel shivered for a moment, and the ground began to shake. A sharp tearing sound was heard as a gigantic crevice opened up in front of Eckard and the Shadowless began to fall into the depths of who knows where. Those that had the intelligence to turn around and flee from the crevice were propelled forward by the weight of those behind them.

After nearly half the army of Shadowless had fallen into the gap of the world, the sound of waves could be heard. Behind the rest of the army, an ephemeral sea could be seen as a large tsunami rolled forward and knocked the rest in the hole. In these desolate tundras, where did such a powerful ocean wave come from?

At the same time in front of Eckard and his warriors, a powerful hurricane seemed to reach out from the swirling night sky, picking up the Shadowless like a vacuum cleaner might pick up dust. A familiar crackling sound was heard as a spiral of flame burst forth in the center of the hurricane, burning all the Shadowless caught within the circulating winds out of existence.

Three minutes later, the Shepherds looked on in both shock, fear, and awe as Lin landed onto the ground next to them, a beautiful lady appearing next to him like an illusion. Silence ruled the atmosphere as they waited for him to speak.

“Erhem.” Lin coughed and cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my way. Can you point me towards the Desolate Peaks? It’s been a long time since I’ve traveled here and the scenery seems to be a bit different...”

“Uh sir.. those mountains no longer exist.” A child’s voice called out.

“See Lin. If you’ve swallowed your pride and asked instead of wandering around, then we wouldn’t have to spend a week trying to find a nonexistent mountain line.” Eir sighed. “I should not have believed you when you said you’ve been here before.”

“But I have been here before!” Lin grumbled.

“How long ago was that!?”

Eckard stared dumbfounded as the two of them bickered back in forth like an old married couple.

Holy Church of Ecclisa

“Howard. Report.”

“Yes my lady. Farrel was attacked recently while he was keeping the Justinia household under watch. During the battle, Sir Alfred intervened as well as… Galvin, the Stormcrow.”

“So he was alive after all...” Geisla’s voice was both sorrowful and bitter.

“Yes. It seems he was the ‘butler’ in the Justinia household this entire time.”

“A butler?” Geisla laughed quietly. “That’s very like him.”

“My lady, how should we deal with this information?”

“Leave him be. Although he was the former captain, his ability to evade the Harbinger Crows’ network for years since his disappearance is a testament to his skills. If he had wanted to, he could have remained as ‘Galvin the Butler’ as long as he wanted to. He’s sending a message. What happened to Farrel?”

“After he made his report to me, I sent him northwards to investigate some leads.”

“Leads..?”

Howard placed the three items Farrel gave him atop of the Lady Geisla’s desk.

“House Fanfiar is it? And this emblem… the Wuuther Warlocks are involved?”

“It is Farrel’s belief that both items were planted on the bodies to misdirect us.”

“Plausible. What is this flask filled with black fog?”

“...It appears to be a Shadowless creature, my lady. One that can survive light.”

“...” Geisla frowned and held up hand. Bright white light filled the room and if not for Galvin’s trained eyes, he would been forced to look as well. The fog condensed into the shape of a ball, and an eyeball peaked out from the darkness. The creature wiggled its body, as if enjoying a massage. Geisla stopped the spell at his action.

“This needs to be dealt with. If the Shadowless have indeed mutated and can now resist light, I fear for our citizens. What have you found out so far?”

“Although it seems to not fear light, it still seems affected by fire.” Howard reported.

“So Ecclisa has not forsaken us yet.” Geisla again held up a hand, and this time the creature within the bottle was no longer relaxed under the searing white light. Several pairs of mouths opened and tried to bite through the glass of the vial, but as the light intentisfied, it started to howl. Even though there was no sound, as the creature’s form melted, it wasn’t hard to imagine the screams of pain as it was purged by Geisla’s spell.

“The Goddess always watches over us. This is but a trial.” Howard nodded.

“Howard, I want you to select and form a unit of knights similar to the Silver Guard, but for fire magic instead. As for those with both fire and light magic, put them in another unit as well. I will leave the choices to you.”

“As you say, my lady.”

“And as the Goddess wishes. “

Night at the Justinia residence, a few days prior.

Galvin was walking around making his rounds in the morning. As he entered the lab quietly, the sight of a bag of Opalis caught his eyes.

“...Opalis?” Galvin’s eyes frowned. Due to his past, he clearly understood what the small orbs were. With nary a sound, he picked up the sack of Opalis and slipped it into his clothes.

“These things are too dangerous in a quantity like this..” Galvin sighed, glad that he had discovered it so early on. Although the Church had declared it to be nothing but a rare mineral, Galvin knew it was a living thing, similar to coral. He made a note to dig a hole and bury the things before they absorbed too much light.

On the way to the kitchen, he bumped into Silfy.

“Ah, Galvin. Have you seen Yuelei? She wasn’t in her room.”

“Have you checked the courtyard?” Galvin clearly saw Yuelei asleep in the laboratory, but tactfully said nothing that revealed his entering and leaving. “Unlike young Silfy, the young missus is rather diligent in training.”

“I’ve already checked.” Silfy deflected Galvin’s attempt to get her to train.

“Then perhaps the bathroom or the laboratory?” Galvin added.

“Ah. I haven’t checked those yet. Thank Galvin!” Silfy ran off while Galvin waved a hand. Ah, his god-daughter was indeed cute, or so Galvin thought. He had initially hoped that Yuelei would be a good influence on her, but he wasn’t so sure anymore after seeing her response.

“I suppose it runs in the family...” He mused, making a mental note to return the empty sack later on.

Whitefrost Mountains...

“Oh? So you showed her that battle. Why did you show such an uncool side of myself?” Lumnieve grumbled as she, Lumnieve, and Drak chatted within the Frost Palace.

Well, I thought she could use a bit of motivation. Liur shrugged. Lately she has been enjoying herself too much and neglecting her training.

“Mmm, humans are like that. Let them have some joy!” Drak’s deep voice shook the ice chandeliers above them.

“Ah you got along with that girl didn’t you? Holley was it?”

“It was Holli.” Drak replied. “She did share some drake blood after all, so I suppose you can say she was my kin.”

Grandmother rather liked her as well. She was blunt and direct, but never lied and was true to her desires.

“...Didn’t she force herself on the man she liked?” Lumnieve frowned, staring at Drak.

She did. She threw herself at the man she liked and crushed all her rivals. A true daughter of the drake blood.

“Tsk, tsk. Drak, what did you teach that girl?”

“...I plead the fifth.”

“So you’re admitting it!” Lumnieve laughed.

“It was in her blood. A dragoness should be bold and unrelenting.” Drak looked away, and tried to change the conversation. “So the young phoenix Yuelei saw your memories? Is such a thing even possible?”

That was what I had assumed as well. Normally such a thing is impossible. Liur replied. It’s the first time this has happened in all my ancestors memories.

“It probably has something to do with the Frost Phoenix essence or the Snow Butterfly Sigil.” Lumnieve placed her hands on her hips and proclaimed mysteriously. “That girl is my first disciple as a Great Spirit after all. It’s only right that she is just as special to the other scions of the greats.”

“I fear for this girl’s future...” Drak mumbled.

“How rude! I just want to touch her that’s all! And maybe do that thing humans do called cuddling and bonding!”

“Didn’t you try that with Mouno? I think his fur is actually quite pleasant...” If drakes could roll their eyes, then Drak would have likely done it hundreds of times by now.

“This and that are totally different things!”

Irona Auction House, Head Office.

“Cordelia, Mister Shariah came to me with a complaint about your behavior the other day. Care to explain to me why you acted unfitting as a daughter of the Irona family?”

“Certainly father. I was escorting someone I gave a Black Card to, and he insulted him.”

“You personally gave out a black card?”

“Yes father. Two in fact, and within the same day.”

“...Two within the same day? Cordelia, our Irona family cards are not be handed out on a whim, much less a black one.”

“Truthfully father, I believe it to be a miniscule price to pay to build a good relationship.”

“With whom?”

“Apologies, but I cannot say. It was in our agreement. But knowing your intelligence network, you have an idea, no?”

“What ‘can’ you say then?”

“One of those I presented the card to is the one who bought out all the finalist items in the last Grand Auction. And the other is his disciple, and the one who brought in the painting behind you at the moment, Father.”

“...Wasn’t this painting you personally obtained?” Hermann shrugged.

“No. I was planning to auction it, but you have taken it without my knowledge, which is the reason I have come to explain the ‘circumstances.’ If you insist on keeping it, I will have no choice but to report this to my benefactor.”

“Just give the man a couple hundred coins, he wouldn’t know otherwise.” Hermann waved a hand in dismissal.

“Father, regarding the crisis about the Irona family auctioning a fake artifact...” Realizing that her stepfather would not relent, Cordelia decided to give tic for tac on his use of methods.

“What does that have to do with this matter?”

“My benefactor was the one who pointed out the item we thought to be the Cyclone Ringblade as a fake.” Cordelia leaked a small bit of information, but it was more than enough to cause tremors on the lake surface.

“The Irona Family makes no mistakes.”

“He presented the real Cyclone Ringblade, which was confirmed by Dolores, if you’d like I can call him here to confirm it.” A hint of pride and sarcasm was evident in Cordelia’s voice, obviously from being to overpower the man in front of her.

“...That won’t be necessary. Be frank with me, daughter of mine.” The word daughter was stressed and lined with sarcasm. “What is it you want to say?”

“My benefactor is someone who can pay with gold bars, and can discern the truth from the mundane. Without a doubt he knows the price of the painting beforehand, and he could pull out a legendary artifact without batting an eye. You have always deemed me a good judge of character, father, and I personally deemed that this person is an expert at least on the rank of Sword Emperor Dumeis, if not greater.” Cordelia addressed the man with the same undertone he used when calling her ‘daughter’.”

She waved at the painting behind her father’s back.

“Yet you will blatantly try to pass off a grand painting with a few hundred gold coins, trying to con such a man. Do you really want to make such a person your enemy, father?”

“Cordelia. Watch your tone, are you trying to insult me, the head of the Irona family? Who did you think was it that took in your whore of a mother? Know your place, you child of a slave.”

“I am merely doing what I think is the best for the family. Father.”

In the Archive.

“Is this… a mirror?” Airen stared at his reflection on the polished glass. He had seen it’s like back in the Imperial Palace, owned by various noble ladies, although they were much smaller compared to the one towering over him.

“Correct. This ‘mirror’ is one of the reasons I was once called the ‘Witch of Altered Fate’.” Fieluri’s voice had a hint of pride. “It took me nearly a century to make it, but… it never fulfilled its intended purpose.”

“Eh. What does it do?”

“It looks into future possibilities and crossroads of the one that enters it. Basically, it gives you advice. Of course I built it with myself in mind, but apparently it doesn’t work for me. What a waste of a century.” Fieluri scoffed. “The future is constantly changing, so even for someone like you, what is said inside the mirror may not apply.”

“So why are you showing this to me?”

“Surely you can fathom why, at this point.” Fieluri snapped her fingers, and a force slammed into Airen from behind towards the mirror. As he reached out to brace himself, his arm slipped through the glass like liquid silver, and he felt himself sinking inside the mirror.

Images of his life seemed to flicker before him as he was suspended in a dark space lit by fragments of glittering glass. After a minute of watching himself grow older, the scene changed. Airen was now standing in the courtyard of a familiar Imperial Palace, and in front of him stood Neäir, although he seemed a bit older.

“Ah. I did not think you would appear in front of me.” Neäir smiled.

Airen opened his mouth as to speak, but no words came out.

“Now you must have a lot of questions to ask, such as ‘Where is Yuelei.’ or ‘What happened to Father?’ But I am afraid I cannot answer for you, for that is the limits of the Mirror of Fate. It’s funny, they call it a Mirror of Fate, but in reality, all it does is gauge one’s inner feelings against the events of the world as they know it by the rules of the Archive.” Neäir continued to speak as if Airen wasn’t there and was actually monologuing to himself.

“Of course. Fieluri- Fiel knew this a long time ago.”

“Now, as imposed by the mirror I can only offer you a single piece of advice, for a time for a crossroads for a decision that may happen in the future. I cannot tell you the time, nor where the crossroads are, nor what you have to decide. But I can offer you advice.”

Neäir walked over to Airen and clapped him on the shoulder.

“You can trust in Fiel. No matter sort of things she has you do, or tells you to do. She may not always be acting best interest, but she is always pursuing the most favorable outcome for both of you. That is my advice to you- no… to myself.”

Airen’s vision turned white.

Valrock Ruins. 20th Floor.

A man clad in pitch black armor raised his hand and touched the bodies of two slaves that had fallen to magical beasts. Tendrils of dark smog sifted around his arm before following his fingers and entering the corpses. In a few moments, the corpses stood up and stared soulessly at the man, dim yellow light in their eyes, then they shambled away, clawing at the walls.

The death knight had the capabilities to reanimate the dead, but his master had tasked him to enter this dungeon for a different purpose. However, try as he might, he could not locate the entrance to the next floor. As a result he had decided to create servants to cover more ground, despite their lack of intelligence.

It was then he had sensed the life forces of two- no, three people entering the third floor. His curiosity was piqued and he had stalked the three of them at a distance for a while. One of the group, the male, caught his interest for reasons unknown to him, but it quickly faded away. The death knight knew there were people camped a floor above him, but these three did not seem to be acquainted with them. His master had declared that as long as the slave traders were still valid suppliers, there was no need to attack them, and the boy in the group above was acquainted with the supplier. The death knight can detect it in their blood.

As a result of determining that the three were not acquainted with them, the death knight had sent the closest Reanimated to kill them so he can resurrect their bodies for his use. The bodies of proper adventurers had to be a rank or two above those of these sacrificial slaves.

To his surprise however, the two he sent to kill them had been defeated, but he was actually happy at the fact. The stronger they were, the better undead servants they will be.

Yet in the next moment, their presence disappeared entirely. The death knight was confused and had sent ten Reanimated to scour the area, seeing through their eyes. The three adventurers seemed to have vanished entirely, disappearing off his radar.

His prey lost, the death knight simply shrugged and continued the search.

Jourmind continued to search for the stairs to the next area.

A tiny scroll hidden in Eullina’s pack.

Airen has been strange lately.

No rather, he’s been strange almost all the time since we entered the dungeon.

For some reason he seemed absolutely familiar with all the monsters we’ve encountered. How much research did he do on his own?

I was a bit happy when he mentioned it was to secure our safety so I let it pass.

When we first set up camp, he brought out food from Tel’naraa. He’s considerate at the strangest of times I swear. I talked to Rureya to explain about the food and where they came from.

Airen also volunteered to both first and last watch. I hope he isn’t pushing himself too hard for our sake.

I had wondered why Airen decided to pick a dungeon that we can clear easily. I had thought he was simply being considerate, until he revealed that ‘heritage’ magic of his. To think he’s been hiding something so useful from everyone in Tel’naraa.... It’s extremely convenient, but due to its nature I will have to make sure Airen doesn’t go down a dark path because of it. I shudder to think what would happen if he becomes a thief or smuggler, and the way he looks at even low-quality bone-dust is like a starving wolf.

We found corpses of slaves in the next few floors. I cannot help but think back to what happened to Isolde, my sister. She could have easily been any of those corpses down there, yet she suffered an even crueler fate. I was angry and wanted to attack the other party, but Airen and Rureya held me back. I am glad they are there to support me.

The next day we ran into the ‘other’ adventuring party. Instead of a party it was more of a procession. I counted at least thirty slaves, chained and bound. We decided to let Airen do the talking, when the hell did he become such a smooth talker? Even when I found out he was lying afterward, I can only shake my head at his skillful conceit. Guess there’s no choice but to reaffirm my belief to make sure Airen doesn’t go down a dark path.

Damn. Damn.. Reanimated? We were not prepared for this. Strength wise we’re stronger, but the way these things act shakes the spirit and heart. It took a lot of work to defeat them, and if there were more of them on the floor, we should retreat. It wasn’t safe, and it’s no longer safe. We should report this to the League of Adventurers and have them handle it. Yet, Airen wanted to press on. What is he thinking? Has his lack of sleep finally started to affect him? Is he pushing himself too hard?

We arrived at the end of the dungeon. Airen said that there’s more floors after this one. I don’t doubt him but we’re not prepared. That last fight had shaken us up. We both got heated up and argued, but I decided to compromise after seeing him compromise as well. Worse comes to worse, I’ll knock him out and drag him out of here with Ruri.

Just to be safe I set up more traps then usual.

Airen. You’ve changed. But I’m not going to tell you that.

You’re still an idiotic brother that runs off doing your own thing, and it’s my job as the elder to clean up after the mess… Ruri’s sleeping next to me, I should probably end this journal entry here.

A few minutes later after she nodded off.

“...This is unnecessary.” Fieluri’s voice murmured quietly as she snapped a finger, and the scroll seemed to age and fade away until it was nothing but ash.

Somewhere atop a wall in the Holy Land of Eccisla.

“Brr… it’s really cold out here today, and they're having us do double shifts through the night…” One of the sentries complained to his acquaintance. “What wouldn't I do for a drink and a warm bed.”

“I’d skip the bed if I were you. Haven't you heard? Several people have died in their sleep in the Templar Order the past few weeks. Rumors are that the cause of death is poison. Why do you think they have us patrolling so much?”

“...I haven't heard anything of the sort.”

“Course not. Course not. The new Knight Captain has been trying to keep things under wraps. I hear that his predecessor found murdered in his bed a day after his title was stripped.”

“Silenced by a Crow?”

“Perhaps, but I heard Knight Captain Utain claimed that they had no hand in it, but would ‘investigate’. If you ask me, either they did it themselves, or they know who did it but can’t deal with him or her.”

“Really now? I'm starting to regret joining the Templar Order… Probably should have reevaluated my options after the headquarters razed to the ground in a fire. Surely that was a sign from the Goddess.”

“In a fire? Is that what they tell the recruits?” The recently graduated cadet’s older companion snorted. “I was here during the attack and witnessed a single man cause the devastation. Even more surprisingly, the High Priestess let him walk away without doing anything. I’m no scholar, but I can put one and one together.”

“...I’m really starting to regret it now.”

“Its not too bad with the new Knight Captain. Just keep your head down and do as you're told. But if you're ever offered a promotion in a ‘special’ task force, by the Goddess make up any excuse to reject it.”

“I will remember that. Thanks for the warning.”

“Good, or you'll end up like those poor souls that died in their sleep. Hell, to be able to infiltrate a fortified fortress unnoticed, only the Stormcrow could do such a thing, and he’s long dead.”

As the two guards moved away, continuing on their patrol, a figure hidden in the shadows beneath the place walked out, preparing to descend from the wall. However, he decided to take one final look at the castle battlements, musing on the words he just heard.

“Well, it’s about time I did some cleaning around here. They brought it on themselves.” Galvin sighed before slipping back in the cover of night.