Elyrion

[CM]

In times long past, when Wynmarch was the domain of nomads and druids, wise crones taught their granddaughters to read the winds. Warm winds descending from the eastern mountains signaled the gods' good graces, and brought vibrant wildflowers to the countryside come spring; wet winds off the Aelon Sea meant thunder and lightning was coming. Every wind had a name in the old Wynnic tongue, each marking a different omen, and the wind-reading nomads who named them used them to guide their migrations. But as the people of Wynmarch grew civilized and sedentary, and the tents and rituals of the Wynnic nomads were replaced with castles and True magic, the tradition of aeromancy died off and the names of the winds were forgotten, along with the meanings they bore. That day dry, anonymous westerlies poured into Wynmarch, scraping the verdure from grassy hills as they went, and carrying with them the rumors of distant lands.

At topmost floor of the Lion's Spire, a slight old gentleman, draped in elegant robes of pale green and gold, rapped his bony hand three times upon the chamber door. He waited for a response; as he stood before the portal, a gust of dry, prickly air blew in through an open window. He took a deep breath, exhaled wearily, and, having received no response, knocked at the door again. When again his summons was ignored, he backoned coolly, "There is news, Your Grace."

The creaky voice of a woman, scarcely audible through the heavy wooden door, hissed back, "Leave, August!"

The queen sounded worse than ever. She had not left her room in over nearly six moons now. All her meals had been brought by her servants; she demanded that they close their eyes to deliver her plate, but rumors of the queen's haggard appearance flew from them anyway. Though only a year past she glowed with the radiance of a woman half her age, the old queen's nails, some rumors said, had grown long and twisted; others claimed her iconic white locks had all but abandoned her scalp -- and in every tale she naked, her old skin covered with cracks and sores. Whether the gossip was true, one needed only hear the acid rasp of her voice to know that something was wrong with her.

August did not yield to the queen's command, but continued on unharried. "It's an urgent affair of the Queendom, Your Grace," he said, "and requires your immediate--"

"Leave me be! Wynmarch's affairs be damned!" the decrepit queen snapped back, without a shred of the grace that once defined her.

"It's about Elsa Touchstone."

A brief silence followed. An iron slat slid open inside the door, and two sunken, yellowed eyes appeared on the other side of the peephole. They stared at the slender, mustachioed sage who waited outside. August met her gaze with calm. "Has my Elsa's death been avenged?" the queen asked, her voice tinged with lament.

"Better still, Your Grace. The whispers say she was seen in Myrhun, alive and well. If it please you, come on out and I'll tell you all that the winds brought."

Queen Wynmarch fell silent again, perhaps from shock. Six months had passed now since Elsa died at the hands of the Black Crescents, after which Her Grace confined herself to her royal bedchamber, wrought with grief over the death of her beloved friend and confidant. Her last order before locking herself away was that Scorpion and his vile cult be brought to justice. Since then, the queen had been neglecting her responsibilities, oblivious to the the state, allowing her Ministers to tend to them in her stead. Meanwhile, the Queendom struggled to suppress the Black Crescents, whose numbers seemed to grow in spite of the royal effort to expel them.

At length, August continued. "It seems Elsa and a small squadron of knights carried off the Earth Crystal from Myrhun. Wynmarch is accused of ordering the attack. If the queen herself is silent on this matter, Your Grace, it may be interpreted as an admission of guilt. You must speak, Your Grace, or else--"

"Bring my Elsa to me." Queen Wynmarch, as usual, was concerned with nothing else.

"It will be done, Your Grace, but first you must dress yourself and leave the Spire. If your address is too long delayed, Wynmarch will pay the price."

There was silence. "Your Grace..." August repeated. The silence was followed by more silence. The sage sighed and began hobbling down the spiralling stairway, accepting the futility of trying to command the queen. He had dearly hoped that such miraculous news would be sufficient to rouse her from isolation, but it seemed this was not so. Quashing the Black Crescents, tracking down the White Lion, protecting the honor of Wynmarch... These were problems the Ministry would have to solve on its own.

As August descended toward the main body of the palace, the arid breeze surged again through an open window and filled the stairway. He took another deep breath of it, letting the scent of the wind fill his nostrils, then sighed it out. "O winds... what dire whispers do you bring me?"

[Picard]

“Hellooo? Anybody home?” The party of five stepped into the abandoned temple for shelter after a day’s worth of travelling, leaving their horses outside the building. Akane’s voice bounced around the decayed wooden walls, prompting a lad, who was asleep upon the lap of the rusted bronze deity statue at the end of the room, to awake and look. His appearance reminded Kenji of Myrion. While not a Felinefolk, he did have hair that was white as snow, and tanned skin much like the white mage. He wore a set of loose, beige robes that seemed to be from the South-Eastern lands, where stretches and stretches of golden sand dominated the country instead of the lush greenery found in these parts. The duskblade noted an auric sheath on the man’s sash, with an equally shiny hilt sitting on top of it. A swordsman, most likely, Kenji mused. Akane greeted the inhabitant cheerfully, and then spoke, “Is this your home, or can we share this place for the night?”

The lad shrugged nonchalantly, lying back down to rest. “Feel free to do whatever. I’m just another traveler too. You can use the fire I made too, if you want.”

“Gee, thanks!” exclaimed the oni with a broad grin, gesturing for her friends to gather around the campfire and make themselves comfortable, “Looks like we got a roof over our head tonight. You kids are lucky, we don’t usually get such luxury most of the time when we travel.”

“I’m not complaining,” commented Kaede happily, groaning in relief as she sat down by the wavering flame. “Man, my ass is sore from all that riding.”

Akane snickered. The resting man suppressed his laughter. Kenji shot his sister a look of disapproval. “Mind your language, Kaede.”

The petite black mage pouted at him. “Shuddup, big bro. I’ve grown up, I’ll say what I want!”

“You’re going to scare away all the boys in the fut-… Never mind,” replied Kenji in resignation, stopping himself when he remembered Hugo in their midst. The blond Felinefolk averted his gaze out of embarrassment, and Myrion simply heaved a sigh as she sat beside her cousin, pulling out a sleeping bag from her knapsack. The others did the same as the conversation ended on that note, preparing for sleep. Once the duskblade was done with his, he sat on his portable bed with his sword before the warm light of the flame, inspecting its edges for imperfection. It was a well-fashioned blade, one of the finest in his homeland, in fact. He was willing to thrift on other expenses, but for a weapon that would last a lifetime, he decided to obtain the best he could afford. Even against the legendary Edelweiss, the steel stood strong and unbroken.

“Nice blade you got there.” Kenji turned around, surprised that the lad had sneaked up on him without him knowing. He was even wearing sandals, which would normally make sneaking a difficult task. “Does it have a name?”

“Yawarakai-Te,” came his reply.

“Ah,” uttered the foreign man, taking a sit beside Kenji. “I’ve got a sword, too.”

“So I’ve noticed. May I see?”

“Sure.” He reached for his weapon, and slowly, drew it by its hilt, revealing an obsidian blade with a broken length. “Meet… Foraz Saika.”

Kenji blinked, unsure whether it was supposed to look this way. “…It’s shattered?”

“Heh, aren’t you sharp?” said the lad sarcastically in amusement. “I’m heading to Mythril to get it fixed. It’s a dwarven blade, so it’s gotta be fixed there.”

“We’re travelin’ there too!” chimed Akane enthusiastically, taking a swig of wine from her gourd after. “Wanna tag along?”

He paused, thinking over it for a moment. Then he shrugged again. “Eh, sure, why not? The name’s Sharrkan Heliohapt. Pleased to meet you all.”

*

“It’s rather late to be telling stories…”

“C’mon, big bro! You did this all the time when we’re kids!”

With the group, now a party of six, settled down and comfortable around the campfire, they were finally able to let their hair down and relax. Introductions were done for the newcomer, and supper was served with wild fruits and the occasional rabbit that was hunted down along the way. Kaede was more than happy to practice her fireballs on unsuspecting animals, much to her overprotective brother’s chagrin. Regardless, they had a nice meal out of the burnt preys, and the laidback Sharrkan received a share on the basis of providing the campfire.

Everyone’s attention was now on Kenji, who was expected by his mage sibling to provide a bedtime tale.

“What am I supposed to tell, anyway? I’ve got nothing,” said the duskblade, who wanted nothing more than to lay his head down and shut his eyes.

“Tell us how you and Akane met! In detail!” suggested Kaede, hugging a pillow she had somehow brought along. Her bag seemed to be able to hold more than what it appeared to. Probably something that was taught in the academy. The oni smiled meekly, as though the memory of it embarrassed her.

Kenji sighed. “Well, alright…”


~Years ago~

The hut atop the hill was surrounded with dead soldiers, some ripped apart brutally, and others crushed with excessive blunt force. The corpses had their weapons planted upright beside or on them, like some sort of a lazy man’s grave. Kenji stepped warily towards the small abode with his sword drawn, remembering that onis could spew fire or ice, depending on their race. Reaching his hand around the knob, he pushed himself into the house swiftly, aiming his sword in front of him as he quickly scanned the room. A lone, red-haired woman sat on a rocking chair in the midst of piles of empty bottles of wine, smoking something strong from her lacquered pipe. She had a pair of small horns on her forehead, indicating her identity to him quite clearly as the target he was sent to dispatch. “Kaen Akane?”

“That’s me,” replied the oni casually, inhaling pure bliss from her pipe. As she looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You’re not a soldier.”

“I’m a merc,” replied the duskblade, cautious of her. Physically, an oni was superior to humans.

A smirk formed on her lips. “Ah~ So they’ve run out of soldiers, have they?”

“Thanks to you.”

Akane took a final whiff of her pipe, and then placed it aside before getting up to her feet. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s go outside. I’d rather not thrash my house.”

The duskblade nodded, walking out after her into the makeshift cemetery. “I shall bring you back to the village for judgment by the people.”

“Judgment?” scoffed the oni, shaking her head derisively. “The villagers told you nuts about me, did they? These guys, all of them, attacked me first. I did nothing to hurt’em before that. They wanted to expand their village, so they tried to chase me out of my home. I refused, and they sent soldiers to get rid of me. I didn’t budge, and now they sent you.”

Kenji paused, trying to discern her honesty. “…And why should I trust you?”

Akane shrugged. “Why did you trust the villagers?”

He was stumped for a moment. “Well, for one, they don’t have dead people scattered all over the ground, mutilated like that.”

The redhead scratched the back of her head. “Y’know, if I’m the one doing the terrorizing, the dead would be in the village, not here. Why the hell would I want to terrorize around my hut?”

She did have a point, thought Kenji. Should he pursue this matter with the village chief? Or was there another way about this? Even if he left, the village would hire other mercenaries to try and dispose of her. Leaving both parties to duke it out by themselves was not a solution that felt morally right to him. Eventually, he sheathed his sword. It would be wise to see if he could worm the truth out of the villagers first. The oni seemed a little too pleasant to be the mass murdering type. “…I’ll be back again tomorrow, once I get to the bottom of this.”

Akane grinned. “I’m not going anywhere. Come back any time!”

*

“Welcome back, kiddo.” Just as she claimed the day before, the redhead was sitting on her rocking chair casually, smoking the same pipe. “How’d it go?”

Kenji did was not too pleased, although Akane was not sure if it was directed at her or the village chief. “You were right.”

“Told ya,” answered the oni triumphantly, extinguishing her pipe and putting it aside. “So, what’s your plan now?”

“I think you should leave this place.”

“I thought as much,” said Akane flatly, getting out of her seat. “The cash is too tempting, eh? I understand that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” added Kenji quickly. “What I mean is, they’ll just keep sending people to kill you. You can’t possibly keep on living like this.”

The oni felt a slight hint of embarrassment at his concern, but it did not show on her face. “Well, this is my home. I’m gonna defend it to the death.”

“Leave with me.”

Akane blinked, not expecting the answer at all. “Huh?”

“We can work as partners in this mercenary business. You won’t get hunted down any longer.”

“W-wait, you want me to… live with you?” stuttered the oni, completely taken off guard. The duskblade did not understand the significance of what he said at all, on the other hand, until much later. He nodded. “Wh-wha-…”

“You don’t think this is a good idea?” asked Kenji, confused.

“N-no, i-it’s a great idea, but uh…” stammered Akane, who was at a loss.

Still not getting the reason behind her panic, he went on with a suggestion, “How about this? If I can beat you in combat, you’ll come with me. If I lose, you can continue staying here or whatever.”

“U-uh… Alright, fine! Let a match decide this!” concluded the oni, letting her hot-bloodedness take over. After all, she was confident in her abilities.


“It started out with her using one of the soldiers’ swords,” continued Kenji, casting a glance at Akane, who seemed amused by the tale. “She broke the blade quickly within a few blows, because of how strong she was.”

“Human weapons are too fragile for me to handle,” commented the oni, grinning. “I used two swords after that, didn’t I?”

The duskblade nodded, smiling. “You practically smashed two swords together into one in an attempt to make a stronger sword, but it broke just the same.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, like I said. Your sword didn’t even break, though. It’s pretty incredible.”

“It’s very well-made,” agreed Kenji, returning his attention to his little sister and Hugo. “In the end, she took her giant club to the fight, and that’s where it got serious. We fought for a couple of hours, tiring each other out till we decided to call it a draw. Akane still decided to follow me, though.”

“You did get in a few good hits on me,” said Akane concededly. “I wanted to go with you because you’re the first guy that cared for me.”

“Awww, how cute,” teased Kaede, poking her brother, who shifted away from her jabbing. “But you were totally oblivious about your bold declarations, weren’t you?”

Kenji did not respond, merely scowling.

“Regardless, I’m really grateful for that,” said the oni with a genuine smile. “I really grew to like him a lot.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, Kaede. Time to sleep.” With that, he messed her hair and slipped into his sleeping bag.

Sharrkan:

[Kenji]

Humming to herself, the White Lion of Wynmarch relaxed in the natural spring. Night had fallen, and she thought to give her knights time to rest. After all, guiding the great Earth Crystal was no easy task, even for the most disciplined units of men. With the exception of a pair of knights serving watch duty, the men slept soundly around the Crystal, some still in their armor. Elsa, meanwhile, poured another handful of water on her face, sighing in relief.

This business of eloping with the Earth Crystal concerned her as she bathed. It truly was grand theft, and likely would not help relations with the government of Myrhun once they found out. However, to revitalize her homeland and bring happiness to her Queen once more, she had no other viable option. This was the very same Queen that Elsa continued to feign death to, for she may yet be restricted in doing what she thought best. In this way, she had ample freedom, not hindered either by her Queendom, nor the loyal knights who had joined her in faux death, for they shared the same goal. At any rate, the next step was to make her official return to Wynmarch, present herself and the Crystal to her liege lady, and - provided her head was not removed for deception and theft - set out to find the next Crystal on the list. The dwarves of Mythril would certainly be protective of their Fire Crystal, perhaps moreso than the elven monks.

Her thoughts drifted toward the unknown group who had interfered with their goal. Three Magi of some skill, two of which had donned uniforms from the prestigious Myrhun Academy, and the last entirely new to Elsa's eyes. Then there was the oni, a rarity to find in the civilized world, though not necessarily a unique sight. Last, though not least, was the spellsword who, along with the ogre, persevered and rose to fight a second bout with her. Not many could make that claim against the White Lion, even if they were reinforced with protective magics. She contemplated why they would put their lives on the line against an opponent who was famously established as one of the age's greatest swordfighters. The oni likely did it for a good fight, as her kind were wont to do, but the swordsman... That one was curious, as he had no known reason to continue, especially with such determination.

Elsa rolled her shoulders, then leaned back and settled against the smooth rock wall of the spring. She pondered just how well, or badly, her Queen would receive her. Would she really be beheaded, as happens with traitors to the Crown, or welcomed back with open arms? There was also the well-being of her men to consider. Those knights who also went back on their oaths for the good of Wynmarch... Would they be granted amnesty if she offered her head for theirs? Such a question could not be answered. Not adequately enough to put her conflicted mind at ease, anyway. One thing, above all else, was still certain: no matter the consequences, she would see Wynmarch brought back to its former glory, perhaps more.

She owed her land that much.

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

"You have been busy, Elsa Touchstone," August commented. The two walked side by side up the long stairs to the top of the Lion's Spire, having been in relative silence until they began to close on the Queen's chambers.

"I have," was all that the White Lion offered in return.

"..." August's expression remained as stone, affording the lady knight no hint of his thoughts. It was his way to maintain both mental discipline and physical calmness.

Once more immersed in silence, they simply proceeded upward. Elsa pondered once more how Queen Wynmarch would receive her. The thought had not subsided in the least bit since last night; if anything, it had grown in intensity since setting foot in the capital. She was certain that, by this point, she had become the talk of the town. This was not a musing out of arrogance, for Elsa was anything but. Rather, it would be idiocy to not think Wynmarch's finest would not be a hot topic after returning from the dead.

Finally, August resumed the discussion. "You've caused quite the incident in Myrhun, robbing them of their Earth Crystal. There is also a report of a monster rising and causing trouble in response. They're convinced this was the work of Wynmarch, not a lone entity. You may have to answer for your crime against their domain."

"I am prepared to receive judgement from our Queen," Elsa claimed. She wavered not in her resolve.

"And your men?"

She was quiet for a moment, though her concerned visage suggested what was on her mind: the lives of her knights. Shaking her head, she continued. "I will plead for their lives. My actions are my own; they merely followed me out of loyalty."

"Admirable," August concluded. Were he a less reserved man, he might be smiling. "This was one of the many reasons you are still venerated by our people, beloved by our liege." Elsa would not respond this time, turning her gaze aside for a moment as she regained control over her countenance. It did not take long from this point to reach the chamber door, whereupon the gentlemanly advisor knocked thrice and awaited a response that was unlikely to come.

This time, however, one came immediately, a raspy, but curious tone to the Queen's voice. "Might that be you, August?"

"I am here, Your Grace. Elsa Touchstone has come to submit herself to you."

There was a tense pause, at least for Elsa, as her thinking finally ceased. Now was the time to discover what was to become of her. She heard locks being worked behind the door, but they abruptly stopped a few moments later. August knew full well why, and the White Lion suspected, given what she knew of the Queen before her false demise. Instead, the iron slat slowly, cautiously slid open, the mistress of Wynmarch bringing her withered face up close to the door to get as close a look at her knight as she could without opening the portal instead. Her putrid, yellowed eyes scanned Elsa quietly.

"...Truly, are you my Elsa?"

To this, the White Lion took a knee and bowed her head, her Queen's eyes following her. "It is I, Your Grace. There are none else who wear the badge of loyalty as I have."

"And yet you died, then reappear six moons later only to steal from Myrhun, a country we were on good terms with." Queen Wynmarch's tone, though not firm, now suggested she was probing the knight for a proper explanation, not directly asking her why.

"I did, my Queen. The Earth Crystal resides outside the heart of your great capital." Her gaze remained firmly glued to the floor.

"Rise. Look me in the eye and explain yourself."

"Yes, my Lady." For the first time in half a year, the White Lion of Wynmarch rose and stood tall, meeting her liege's gaze with all of the conviction she had operated with since before and after her disappearance. Even in the face of possible death, beheld by the eyes of the Queen she had left so long ago to pursue the betterment of the nation, she held strong. "Even before my departure, it is an unfortunate fact that Wynmarch suffers. Economy gradually declines, crops wilt when they should shoot high from the soil, and the people are dealt injustice by their own. We are not as mighty as we once were, something that has long saddened me... I know that Your Grace has also suffered from our current state for reasons that have yet to be known, unless something has changed in my absence."

She paused, looking for something in her Queen's eyes, or a response. Perhaps a lethal tongue lashing for claiming their state had fallen from grace. Instead, she received a simple command: "Proceed."

"During my last battle, I arranged a ploy to feign my death, and set out with a company of men loyal to Wynmarch, in order to solve this problem without offending Your Grace with my impertinence. I wandered for months in search of a means to remedy your country, and came across a viable solution: the Four Crystals." She took a moment to fold her hands behind her back, then continued. "The Earth Crystal of Myrhun is known to bring fertility and stability to the region it rests within, so I dared to pursue and liberate it." Elsa gave a brief nod, affirming her next statement. "I succeeded. Mercifully, no one died in this endeavor."

"...I see..." The Queen seemed unsure, not of Elsa, but of what she had done. Or so Elsa thought, at least. Arthur remained still, aside from idly and unconsciously fiddling with his robe sleeves. A subtle sign of nervousness and uncertainty for what was to come.

Ultimately, Queen Wynmarch responded, her tone firm and decisive... And, interestingly, giving off less acid. "Though your method of disappearing was distasteful, and a great sorrow to our nation, I approve of your desires... To an extent, your actions as well."

The lattermost part of her statement caught August off-guard. His brow crinkled, and his expression shifted slightly from its normal calm. "Wh--"

"If you are opposing me, I will have you replaced, August! Do I make myself clear?"

He cleared his throat upon that claim. This gentleman did not believe what the Queen was about to say would truly benefit their kingdom. Rather, it would likely bring ruin to them. But he was still loyal, and thus resolved to keep his tongue in check. "Understood, Your Grace. Please continue."

"I will," the Queen returned, calming back down and turning her beady gaze back to Elsa's. "You will order your men to bring the Earth Crystal into the city and to the central warehouse, until we may find a proper place to store it. Following that, return here so that we may discuss how to proceed... And how you have fared these last few months."

"Of course, my Queen. I adhere to your will." The White Lion bowed low, rising only when she heard the slat slide shut.

To Elsa, this was relieving news. To August, disturbing.

[Picard]

“So you’re off to warn the dwarves about it after getting a beat down from the Elsa? Awfully heroic of you guys. I wouldn’t have done it if I were you,” commented Sharrkan, who had just been told a summarized version of the group’s story thus far. “Well, I was in Myrhun too before meeting you, so I kind of understand where you’re coming from. It was rather shocking to see an army of knights suddenly marching into the enclave and to the temple. I thought it’d be wise for me to get out while I could, but I got lost in this forest during the night, and still being lost the next day, I took shelter in that abandoned building and met you.”

“Your sense of direction is terrible,” said Akane with a chuckle.

Sharrkan laughed heartily. “Tell me about it. I can get lost walking on a straight line. I lost my map a while back, so that didn’t help matters.”

“Good thing you met us, then,” replied Kenji. “By the way, you’re from the south, aren’t you?”

His eyes widened slightly, giving the dawnblade an impressed look. “You can tell, huh? Most people just think that I’m from some native tribe. I’m actually from the desert kingdom of Sindria down south, across the sea. My homeland might be dominated by sand, but we’re surrounded by water, and we excel at naval combat and prosper off trade by sea. Not many people here know that, but ask the sailors and merchants at ports and they’ll definitely agree with me.”

“I’ve heard,” added the dawnblade. “Speaking of which, isn’t the Water Crystal there?”

“Guarded by the one and only High King of the Southern Seas, yeah,” replied the white-haired lad with a nod. “I really doubt Elsa will be able to get her hands on that one, to be honest. Our military might is as big as Wynmarch’s, if not bigger, and they’ll have to cross the seas to get to us.”

“You do realize their airships are unparalleled?” asked Myrion, apparently disapproving of his pride. “They don’t have to sail.”

Sharrkan shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d rather not go into a debate, really. I’m not cut out for that sort of thing. Still, I wouldn’t mind giving a word to the High King when I get home after fixing my sword in Mythril. Then you can go and warn whoever that guards the Wind Crystal, eh? How’s that sound?”

Kenji blinked. “Pretty good, actually.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Kaede aloud, without concern for Sharrkan, who simply chuckled at her boldness. “We only just met him last night.”

“Well, I suppose not,” said Sharrkan honestly with a grin. “I’ll prove my worth to you once I get my sword fixed, I’ll promise you that. After that, you can decide again if you want me to be your messenger.”

“Huh,” commented Kenji, puzzled and intrigued. “Alright.”