Unedited

~

Wylie thought there was the distant sound of rain pattering against the roof of this abandoned monument, but it could also be the dripping water sopping into puddles on the floor.

Mouse happily padded after her owner, who made the casual conversation more one-sided than anything. Wylie gripped the strap of his bag tighter and tighter. The further they went into the building, the more wet and tight the air became. It felt as if he was breathing through a paper bag.

Seamus watched as Mouse skittered ahead, jumping on collapsed columns and crumbling carvings to squeeze her puffy coat through a small hole in the wall.

"Who knows where she is off to now." Seamus chuckled.

Seamus strode through one final archway before gesturing for Wylie to look.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Seamus smiled.

The massive stone and marble room was hot and sticky, the cool stone reflecting the shining gold mechanism in the center. It was a series of intertwined circles protecting a massive chest in the center. It glowed with a gentle blue force field around it, protecting the machine.

Beside the machine was. A bedroll, a small fire with a spit and cooking pots, a small stack of books and little scribbles, and a nest of straw, cotton, and leather scraps.

"That is where you and Mouse reside, I'm guessing?" Wylie mused, pointing to the bedroll and nest. Wylie thought it was a simple joke that would make Seamus laugh. No one could ever live in these conditions. Of course, Seamus had a proper bed and an oven.

"Yup!" Seamus smiled.

Wylie waited for Seamus to burst into laughter, but Seamus just stared at the setup with pride.

"My little camp is made out of things I scavenged from around the building. Except Mouse's bed, she found those things herself."

He wasn't joking.

"I see." Wylie coughed. Not a single Elf could imagine living like this. Maybe the Council's explanation of the Vatarians was true. They are no better than beasts-

Wylie caught his thoughts before they drifted. His mother was Vatarian, Sophie was Vatarian. He was Vatarian.

It was still boggling for Wylie to think of himself as anything but a pure-blooded elf. He is deconstructing everything he thought and rebuilding it.

"What is it?" Wylie asked, pointing to the central mechanism in hopes of changing the subject.

Seamus shrugged, trudging over to his little campfire and poking it with a stick to keep it alive.

"I don't know. But, it keeps me warm. And it doesn't get too hot since there are vents all over the building. Primitively built, mind you, but still in working order. Those vents also help me not get smoked out by my campfire."

"So it was built in mind to keep this thing running." Wylie muttered, walking closer to the contraption. Seamus glanced up and paled, "Hey, woah!" Seamus grabbed Wylie and yanked him back, the machine's blue force field crackling with lightning that struck the spot where Wylie previously stood.

"What the hell was that?!" Wylie asked, scrambling to his feet.

"I made the same mistake when I first got here. That force field is super finicky, doesn't like anyone getting too close. That is why my camp is set on the edge of the walls." Seamus explained.

Wylie dropped his bag, focusing on the center chamber within the mechanism with intense curiosity.

"It's protecting something." Wylie glanced at Cyrah's journal. She kept mentioning this one sphere.

"Allesandro begged us to take it away, he was scared-"

"I think I can hide it and keep it protected at the same time-"

"An artifact unlike any of us have seen."

Wylie raised a brow, glancing at the center chamber of the mechanism, "Whatever is in there, my mother and Allesandro wanted to keep it hidden." Wylie glanced over his shoulder to Seamus, who was happily munching on some roasted rat he had just pulled off the spit.

Wylie gagged at the mere image of Seamus practically inhaling the roasted rat, which the man offered to Wylie with a grin.

"No thank you. Do you mind if I stay for a while? I want to run some tests."

Seamus shrugged, returning to his rat, "I don't mind. I know Mouse will appreciate the company."

Wylie's lip curled when Seamus dug back into another rat, "Lovely. Thank you."

It was hell. The only way you could describe it. The three monsters were battling each other at once, and they were shocked that their mentore was keeping up. The Assassins, The Sirens, the Spartans, the Pirates, known of them, knew fully what they were fighting. They thought the fight was against the Neverseen, against the oppressors of their people. But when mentore Amalia, the pinnacle of the Morretti bloodline, sent beastly lashes of lightning against the flying cloaked woman and Butcher of Inalia, they realized something more was afoot. There was a rumor that the Mentore was the Heiress of a god, that only the Inner Circle knew the truth. The man had wings now draped in shadows, a wild look in his eyes. But the other woman, she was clam and collected. She wasn't there to kill anyone. Unlike Sophie and Elrond. No one had ever seen a fight like this.

(Sibylline Original. It was made on a deadline, soooo... don't look at it too hard)

But seeing Amalia fight, it was clear who exactly they were fighting for. They were fighting a war for the gods as well.

"Focus!" Ruy Ignis, the Lost Prince of the Dunmer, cried over the mass of soldiers. But they were all enamored with the fight going on in the distance, their Mentore flipping over Ricin's searing blast to rush Elrond, ducking beneath his blasts of black magic. With a force the onlookers all felt in their chests, the Mentore body slammed into Elrond, screaming as she raised her sword for his head.

And the rage in her eyes was something the world had never seen. Tears streaked down her face, his mouth in a vicious snarl as she plunged her sword for Elrond's neck. This was personal for her.

The former Dunmer right hand kicked out Sophie's legs, scrambling back onto his feet to deliver a brutal roundhouse kick straight to Sophie's abdomen.

"The Mentore is in trouble!" A few soldiers cried, beginning to lose formation.

"The Mentore is fine, you fools! Focus on what is in front of you!" Nour screamed, forcing attention to him and Ruy once more.

The Spartans held the front line as best they could, their shield no longer gleaming in the smoky red sun but matte with red blood, the same with their double-headed spears.

The pirates were no longer leading an offense but beginning to escort refugees to Hyda on the other side of the island, as quiet as they could so they could avoid too much interference from the Neverseen.

The fight was still not going in their favor. They were swamped. The Esposita and Neverseen numbers combined were unbeatable.

The Spartan generals sprinted dup to Ruy and Nour, "We need to retreat, we can't possibly beat this!"

"We retreat and we lose the Island and the Crypt! We are here to protect the Crypt!" Nour argued.

"I know that-"

"I thought Spartans were Victory or Death?!" Ruy snapped.

"Yes, but the reason we are a military superpower is because we are smart!" Another general argued back.

Ruy bit his tongue, glancing back at Sophie's fight.

Eira ripped Sophie off Elrond, blasting her with shining black fire and turning to Elrond expectantly. But Elrond just hit her with inky shadows as well, aiming for both of them during his second attack.

Ruy scanned over the battlefield at the unending ocean of Neverseen and Esposita.

They were right.

"How far along are we on the evacuations?" Ruy asked, turning to one of the Assassins.

"We have about 60 percent of the people moved through the tunnels, and 30 percent are in the camps on Hyda."

"Keep it up. We are only going to stay until everyone is evacuated." Ruy hesitated to say it, "And then we need to abandon the Crypt and the Throat of the World."

They all saluted him, "Understood!"

Ruy watched them disperse and glanced at the effort on the mountain. Apparently, Kassandra, Maha, and Alexios were up there defending the refugees while they traversed through the crypts.

Something felt wrong. Ruy knew retreating was probably the best choice of action, but this battle was more than that.

It was about Kassandra, the Gods, Mephala. It was about Sophie, damn it.

And something just felt wrong.

"I'll be right back." Ruy's wings stretched before he launched into the air, dodging through the plumes of smoke reaching the sky and to the battle ensuing in the distance.

Elrond and Sophie's swords met, metal on metal. The metal bit at one another, sliding as Sophie spun beneath Elrond's attack and slashed his side.

Nothing else mattered but Elrond. Eira could have dropped dead for all Sophie cared, Kassandra too.

Everything focused on Elrond.

The man wore the same smile he had when he slaughtered her father. Murdered her people.

"Stop smiling at me!" Sophie shrieked, tears slipping past her lashes. Elrond just grinned wider.

"Halvar, end this!" Eira cried from the side. Elrond barely gave her a glance, focusing on Sophie.

Stop. You need him alive! If he dies, Mephala's spirit is released! Whose voice was that? It was warm. Comforting.

Think Passerota. Don't let your emotions get in the way!

Her father was in her head. As clear as day.

But he wasn't as loud as the panting through her gritted teeth. It wasn't more painful than the sting of the slash on her left arm.

"He needs to pay." She snarled.

Amalia!-

Her father's voice was swept away as she lunged for Elrond, glaring and snarling like a wild animal. Elrond collided with the rock beneath him, Sophie on top of him. Both of their swords were scattered somewhere on the field, but Sophie didn't need a sword. Her hair was ashy white, her eyes gold as her clawed fingers gripped the plates of Elrond's armor.

"You took everything from me!" She screamed, pounding and scraping the metal armor. Elrond was exhausted, barely able to fight back against the vicious animal above him.

"Everything, everything, everything, everything!" She cried, the tears not stopping. "I was nine damn years old, and you killed my father right in front of me! Forced me live like this! I was nine!"

She was so loud, the voices in her head and her own sobs, that she didn't notice the blade in Elrond's hand.

Elrond lunged off the ground. Elrond's blade landed two hits that day.

Sophie screamed as the metal cut through the skin on her left eye, severing the eyelid, passing through the brow, just scraping past her iris.

Sophie screamed, falling on her back against the ragged rock terrain. Her hand clamped over her eye, blood seeping through the cracks of her fingers.

"Brother, stop!" Eira cried from the corner of the field. Elrond stood over Sophie, smiling at her slashed eye before slamming his blade through the cracks of Sophie's breastplate to the flesh beneath.

Sophie's blood-curdling scream could be heard throughout the entire island.

Through the teary eyes and the numbing pain, Sophie spotted Eira fling herself at Elrond with a fierceness Sophie hadn't seen the entire battle.

Eira knocked her brother down with such force that her hood slipped from her head.

She knew those dark brown locks, pale milk skin.

"Lysandra?" Sophie ground out.

Lysandra hummed in recognition. With sharpened teeth and claws for hands, she snarled at her brother. She looked much different compared to her place beside Queen Sarai.

"Don't touch her anymore! She has had enough!"

"She is an Heiress! She can kill us, Eira! If we kill her-"

"Look at what has happened to you! That woman deserves to live, unlike us! She isn't a monster, like us!" Lysandra ground out, her claws shining with black magic.

The words become more and more muddled, and more blood seeped out from the cracks of Sophie's armor and down her and neck.

But there was one voice she did hear.

"Blondie!"

A dark figure blotted out the sun overhead, hands that she had memorized time and time again.

"I lost my temper." She whimpered, her head dropping to Ruy's hand.

"Where is Kassandra? We are taking her and leaving! Now!" The people probably haven't all been evacuated yet. But he wants to leave. Surely he isn't willing to drop everything, to damn all these lives for her? He wouldn't be that reckless?

"Leave me here. They will be distracted finishing me off or torturing me for you to get the last of the people off the island."

"No. No, Sophie, don't ever say that to me."

Kynareth's gift was leaving her, seeping out of the cracks between her armor. It felt like she was floating, her hair fluttering behind her as if she was underwater. Everything felt muted and a second behind for her, the red seeping past her slashed eyelids and filling her vision with red. The gash beneath her armor felt like a pocket of wet warm death, a reminder of what she did. Oh what she allowed to happen to herself. She didn't know what was up or down, everything was a suffocating sheet of red blood. Sometimes, she couldn't tell if it was her father's blood that seeped through her armor or her own. He died of a similar wound, didn't he? Was the daughter destined to die like the father?

(By Lady Satanic)

A silhouette appeared in the sun blotches above her.

"Pater?"

The floating stopped as if frozen in terror. The hands around her began shaking. The figure turned to look at the horizon, a growing dark mass approaching them. Sophie heard their echoes as well,

"For the Prince!"

"Gods, they made it!" The figure carrying her cried in relief. The figure holding her held her tighter, "Look, they are here to help us! To help you!"

Sophie was no prince.

"No, they are here to help you." She sniveled.

The mass of flying dark splotches on the horizon looked nothing like the silhouette of her father. But the man that carried her kept switching out. Sometimes it was a winged man with the most intense of azure eyes. Next it was her father, the cut through his lip crinkling with his smile. Then it was Luram Bak. Or then it was Grady. She didn't know who was who anymore.

"Pater, I missed you." Sophie smiled. The silhouette of her father grew larger and larger until the black completely swarmed her vision and eased her until a deep slumber.

She used to go into the same slumber when her father would sing her to sleep.

It felt so good to be a child again.

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_Sibylline_