A Tower somewhere in the mists above the Depthless Canyon. Two days earlier.

Elenore stood scowling down at her former childhood friend. "Patrick I wanted you to find my Son. Why did you bring this 'Person' here instead?"

Perched on the balcony's handrail, a ten-foot bird with brown and green scales instead of feathers cocked its beaked head sideways in confusion before speaking in a barely discernable Andorian. The Wyvern spoke with a lot of clicking a whistling, but Elenore had gotten used to this over the years as she got to know this strange being, along with several of its kind. "Mistress I flew toward the nasty water as you asked. I stopped in a nasty water place to hunt when I smelled your scent on this, two-legger." Patrick the Wyvern cocked its head to the other side, studying the woman on the sofa. "Is this not your nestling?"

Now it was Elenore's turn to cock her head to one side in imitation of Patrick. "My scent is on this Two-legg... this woman?" Elenore had to stop herself from falling into Patrick's way of speaking. Not that easy when his kind is all she has spoken to in nearly two decades. A thought suddenly struck her. Wait, Brea is naked, so if my scent is on her, she has recently come into contact with Theodore. I have to wait for her to wake up and ask her then. Not like she can leave the tower anyway.

Turning back to Patrick, Elenore gave him a beautiful smile. "Thank you Patrick; wait there I have something for you and your nest mate." Elenore dashed through a door, returning minutes later with a package tied in a large cloth that she hung over Patrick's head, letting it dangle in front of his chest. "Some cookies I baked this morning I hope you both enjoy them."

Patrick glanced forlornly at the unwieldy package but didn't refuse the gift. Turning one last time toward the two-legger, he brought. Patrick wrinkled his face in disgust. "You need teach nestling to clean itself properly. Smell worse then nasty mud water." He then turned and hopped off the balcony spreading his wings to catch an updraft. Moments later, Elenore watched as Patrick soared far into the distance.

Bending over Brea, Elenore gave a small sniff. Jerking back, nearly falling over the small sofa placed near the Massive double doors leading out onto the balcony. "Uhg, gross Brea, did you forget how to bathe when you joined up with Greg's faction?"

Shaking her head in disgust once more, Elenore snapped her fingers, and two semi-translucent blobs appeared next to her. "Pick her up and bring her along to the bath, please." The two strange creatures bobbed once, then two appendages grew from them, and they lifted Brea easily and carried her behind Elenore. Elenore guided the pair down a set of circular stone stairs, passing a room with shelves filled with books and a writing desk strewn with papers and quills.

Next, they passed a room filled with cabinets, a cooking station with what looked like a homemade brick oven from Earth's renaissance era. A table covered in flour with dirty dishes covering the entire room. Elenore narrowed her eyes at the scene. before turning to one of the blobs. "Where is Sarah?" The blob made two shoulders, shrugged them, then continued down the stairs to the large room with a massive bath taking up nearly half the room.

Following the pair into the steamy room, she told them to dump Brea in the shallow end. The moment Brea's body touched the water, Elenore could hear the sound of sizzling, and steam rose in a cloud around her body.

Nobody paid Brea any mind. However, as Elenore continued to observe one blob, eyes narrowed. "Ah, ha, Sarah, why are you imitating Steve? -Gasp- Did you trick him into doing you're chores again? You did, didn't you? Oh, that poor boy." The blob in question crossed its noodle arms over its round body and turned around. "There is definitely no rule saying the cook must clean up their own messes. You made that up to get out of cleaning the kitchen again."

Blob Sarah spun around, waving a noodle arm in a lecturing manner toward Elenore. "I do not make an exaggerated mess when I bake, all cooks make a mess when they cook, that's part of the process."

Throwing up her arms, the Sarah blob vanished with a small pop. Close by. The other blob turned to Elenore rubbing its belly. "Of course I saved you some cookies what kind of Mother do you take me for? But Tommy, you must first finish all of your chores before eating them." Elenore said this last part while poking a finger partially into his round belly, making the blob jiggle. The Tommy blob bobbed twice then vanished like the other one.

As if only now remembering Brea, Elenore turned to the now catatonic woman floating on the surface of the water, staring blankly at the mist-covered ceiling above. Only now, instead of black voids, her eyes showed a green nearly gemlike clarity. Even Brea's fingernails looked like perfectly manicured nails done at a salon only that morning. "Tch, I was hoping to get some answers from her before her past crimes came back to her. Oh well."

"Steve, please make up the guest room. And stop letting yourself be pushed around by Sarah. You are the eldest so man up already." A blob popped in showed slumped drooping noodle arms, then it left right away. Satisfied, Elenore grabbed a small basket out of a nearby cabinet and set to work washing her unresponsive guest.

Elenore kept up a constant stream of chatter as she worked, reminding Brea about good times at the orphanage they grew up in. It wasn't until half an hour went by that Brea spoke in a barely heard whisper. "Ellie, I did evil things." Tears began flowing from Brea's eyes, and she wrapped her thin arms around Elenore. Same as when she first arrived alone at the orphanage and didn't understand what was happening or know anybody around.

Elenore, who had been calmly rubbing Brea's back while making unintelligible but comforting sounds suddenly held Brea at arm's length. With a quick movement, the ringing sound of a palm striking flesh resounded throughout the room. Brea stopped crying and stared dumbfounded while holding her own hand to her stinging cheek. Elenore started to go for another slap but stopped herself and drew in a deep breath. "I told you to stay away from Greg and look what has happened. Now before I lose my temper you better explain why my friend caught Theo's scent on you."

Woodhaven, Tracy.

Tracy sat on the sofa in Ezriela and Jamal's living room, staring at the parchment handed to her by Jamal, who came in from the guild earlier than usual. "You are saying that every Outworlder got a link to this status inside something called the World Chat?"

Jamal leaned back, resting his head on the back of his armchair. "Yes, luckily, the name doesn't mean anything to most of us. Hell, from everything I heard today, most people think it is some joke. I mean, look at those stats. He is only level one for crying aloud but has as much strength as an adventurer at level ten. The few that don't think it is a joke are more excited that the locals are linking with our system.

"No, the problem is not with our faction here in Woodhaven. The problem is Greg, who knows perfectly well who Theo is. Not only does Theo have a class but one of the seven Legacies of Andoon."

Placing the parchment down on the end table, Tracy began rubbing her temples. "Dare I ask how you know about the Legacies?"

Giving Tracy an amused smile, he began to speak. "My dear unlike most of my brethren; I enjoy reading history. I have spent many years digging up musty old tomes and listening to old fogie's gossip about the good ole days."

Deciding not to pursue the matter further, Tracy picked the parchment back up. "So how did he send this to everyone anyway?"

Kicking his feet up on the table set between them, Jamal gave a hearty laugh. "This happened fairly regularly when we first arrived. Most likely he was pushing buttons in his hud at random attempting to figure out what everything does. Oh, don't look at me like that; I am sixty percent sure Max has already explained his blunder by now."

There was the sound of a door opening and closing as Ezriela walked into the room carrying a tray. It only took a single disapproving glance for Jamal to remove his feet from the table. Ezriela set the tray down before passing tea to both Jamal and Tracy. Finishing, she wiped her hands on a towel and, in typical Woodelf fashion, completely ignored something as silly as personal space sat down almost in Tracy's lap. Ezriela leaned against Tracy's side and plucked the parchment from her hands, and began reading through it.

Jamal and Tracy met each other's eyes and, while doing their utmost to keep a straight face, began enjoying the fragrant tea. After a couple of minutes of silence, except for the sound of them sipping their tea, Tracy set her cup down, turning her attention to Ezriela. Tracy poked the Woodelf in the side a couple of times to get her attention, then put on a mock angry expression."What was up with you acting like you didn't recognize me in the shop the other day?"

Ezriela made a gasping sound and spoke in an exaggeratedly scandalized tone without taking her gaze from the parchment. "Do you not remember that disreputable dress you had on and the wretched young man dressed in rags? Imagine the gossip if anyone found out I knew such vagrants." However, she couldn't keep up the act, and soon all three were laughing together. "Oh sorry about that... No, I was scared I would draw attention toward his Highness Prince Theodore. It's no secret I was Queen Elenore's Lady in Waiting. I have no doubt that Our dearly despised False King, has people watching me."

Snatching the parchment back from Ezriela, Tracy glanced at it briefly before throwing it behind the couch. "I joined the army at fifteen; Became a Royal guard at twenty-five. A Mother at thirty and a Widow at fifty, thirty-five years of service with nothing to show for it, I think it is time for a change. When the Prince gets back from his adventure in the mines, I shall ask to be released from my duties."

Both Jamal and Ezriela stared in shock at the sudden change from Tracy. Jamal came to his senses first. "If you are sure about this, I could use someone in the shop. My last part-time worker decided to go off on an adventure with her new friends."

Tracy thought hard for several minutes before turning to Ezriela. "You once held one of the most prestigious positions in the Kingdom, does running a shop really compare?"

Smiling beautifully, Ezriela nodded emphatically. "Honestly, it isn't much different from my time in the palace. I make clothes and watch my friends children when they need me to."

Military Headquarters outside Calypso City. year 497 A.E. (After Exodos)

A man in a grey uniform covered in various medals and two stars on one shoulder watched a group of technicians scurry about like ants that lost their trail. "Why am I here Specialist, Johnathan? I should be with my fleet; the damn Thrissinians are testing our defenses again you know what that means."

A similarly dressed man with fewer medals and a single star handed a clear crystal sheet over before speaking. "Twenty three years ago our technicians spotted strange anomalies inside and around Soloil corperations headquarters." At this, Johnathan stopped and glanced up from his own report. "You are aware of who that is correct?"

Anger flashed across the General's face. "Yes, of course, that bastard was lauded as the most celebrated Humanitarian since the Exodos. Gregorian Soleil, built orphanages in every colony promised to take in every child whose parents died in the battles against the Thrissinians and pirates. Instead, he used them in experiments, about the time people started asking questions about where the children were disappearing to Soleil and all the children vanished."

Grimacing, Jonathan continued. "This part was never released but somehow Soloil managed to convince some Officials to let him take fifty criminals on death row for his experiments. Want to guess who they were? I will give you a hint Hyperion year 441."

A look of disgust appeared on the General's face at those words, but he continued reading the report in his hands as he spoke' "So Queen and her forty-nine captains." Suddenly the General's finger stopped scrolling the pages on his crystal. His fist clenched, threatening to shatter the sheet. "Ellie, so this is why I could not find you when I returned." The rest of the report was in technical jargon that he didn't have the patience to read through, so he handed the sheet back to Johnathan. "I repeat, why am I here?"

This time Johnathan grinned. "Because we know too where they disappeared too." Johnathan typed something on his desk, and a large monitor lit up, showing a massive warehouse with a giant egg floating in the center. A walkway in the middle had a constant stream of children from around twelve to eighteen. "Our best estimate, around two thousand children vanished with this device." The screen flashed white, and the warehouse stood empty, with the walkway protruding outwards, leading to empty air.

Not thirty seconds later, the doors burst open in an explosion of torn steel and concrete. Hundreds of grey uniformed soldiers poured inside, gathered up the people running around in white coats, forcing them to lie on their stomachs, rifles pointed at the back of their heads—all except one whose fingers flashed on a nearby terminal. A younger version of Johnathan walked in, took one look around, pulled his firearm, and shot the man at the terminal. Johnathan walked toward the man struggling to reach the terminal from where he fell to the concrete floor. He fired twice more, once in the chest than in the head. Johnathan watched the man for a moment with no expression, then pushed something into the data port for the terminal. A minute later, he walked out shouting orders as he went.

The General nodded in approval for Johnathan's actions. "So do we know what the egg-shaped machine is?"

Shrugging, Johnathan replied. "We have theories. As I am sure you know opening rifts to other places isn't anything new for us we have been poking our metaphysical heads into other dimensions or whatever they are for several centuries now. What we have never been able to do is take anything physical through. I believe and this by the way is the leading theory for what the device is, it can take people through the veil to another place."

Chuckling that raised the hair on the two men's necks began and a golden-skinned humanoid with a glowing horn spiraling from his forehead appeared in the room next to them, watching the monitor as it replayed the scene of the disappearing egg. "An interesting theory but wrong, nothing of flesh and blood can pass through the veil to another Realm under any circumstances that's simply the way they were set up." The being shook its head once he waved a hand and a chair appeared that he sat down in.

Both General and Specialist shot to their feet, giving small bows. Johnathan spoke. "Sector Lord I was not expecting you. Might I be inpudent and ask if you can share some information on this object?"

The General only raised an amused eyebrow at the specialist. "I think you already did."

Sector Lord smiled at the General. "Don't worry I have become quite used to Human eccentricities these past three hundred years. But to answer your question, John. He gave a mildly disgusted look at the egg. "This is a really fancy copying machine with a few modifications by Gregorian, of course. Instead of paper, it copies living beings. All those poor children have been scanned and saved into a memory bank before the machine destroyed the bodies. After all, the flesh cannot cross the veil. This Gregorian is something else to think of this loophole on his own.

"Before you ask, it is an artifact from a long-dead race that once spanned the entire, Milkyway Galaxy as humans know it. No, it wasn't war or some kind of disaster that killed them off. They simply grew bored and shut off there... Copy machines and let themselves die out, making room for younger races to grow. It is strange though. I thought our predecessors found and destroyed them all long ago."

Johnathan visibly deflated at the Sector Lords' final words. The golden-skinned giant reached over, placing a hand on his shoulder. "There is a way to save your race. You simply need to 'Look' for it. That's all the help I am allowed to give you on this, so with that, I will be off." In a flash of light, the Sector Lord vanished, leaving the two old friends to ponder his last words and the emphasis he had on Look.

It wasn't until several minutes passed that the two old friends noticed a crystal sheet sitting on the strange chair placed by the Sector Lord. On the screen the dossier of a certain pirate queen.