Ano in Absentia Formerly: Under a Blood Moon

~~~

They say time is the fire in which we burn. Right now, Captain, my time is running out. We leave so many things unfinished in our lives....I know you understand. - Dr. Tolian Soran, Star Trek: Generations

~~~

365.

Leaves crunched underfoot as Brend, as his friends were wont to know him, strode across the grounds of Bristle Crios in the depths of autumn. Odd, he thought, how so many people found such beauty in this time of year given that most of the peculiar changes which made the season so alluring were brought about because of entropy and death. 'Though perhaps,' he mused, 'that has to do with the life span of mortals....whatever that might be; beauty in the urgency of the temporary, the fleeting...' he stopped short, catching himself. Best leave the philosophical ramblings to the acoustically marble mouthed old man that he was when last he slept these grounds.

Change, and growth. His eyes were on the Coven compounds now, as he headed north along the farthest reaches of the Coven grounds. Though he appeared in no hurry, nor was he ever truly in one, he did not deviate from his path, pulled almost magnetically to his destination. His path took him off the beaten path, as it were, in along buildings and through copses of vegetation.

Given his peculiar relationship with time, he was not accosted; either he moved to quick, or the world around moved too slow. Could he be perceived" Of course. Though not by a lay person of the Arts, and even a seasoned caster would have difficulty unless they lay in wait for him, or had some other mythal in place. Such as those laid over the Rose Garden.

A pall lay over the leaves shunted through arcane means in the sky above, as though they were somehow made less than they were. "Fisher King's luck..." Brend murmured, as he stepped into the Garden. The perpetual breeze was still intact, but something about the air, despite the blossoms had grown....stale.

Another voice called out, coming from numerous directions at once, and altogether too close, "Tell me, Brend, why is it those who interfere the most with the Time of others, always squander their own...?" "You tell me, Azira..." Brend had stopped, head tilted slightly back and looking slowly around. "I'll wait for you on the Horizon....I've lost the taste for your games." His voice carried a hint of anger, but even that was a far cry from his usual relaxed and affable nature. Jonas's voice was somehow feeding into the gates and back through; impossible to discern his location, it was better to...

Step through one of the Gates, in a moment of frozen time, to reach Horizon. Travel was easier there, and faster. Moving through time gave one benefits, but as opposed to those who had alternate means of transportation....it was still taxing when one had to walk. The portion of Horizon he had chosen was on a rise, a gradual slope of the otherwise empty astral, from which one could cast Sight and peer into the Skinlands, the Quicklands, the Deadlands, and the Nightlands as they sat, all overlapping at once.

As movement stirred behind him and the vast darkness of Azira's cloak spread a shadow across Brend as he looked off into the precipice, the scene before them changed. A slender woman with hair the color of fire perched behind a desk with vast spreadsheets. What would appear to be the ghosts of others would sometimes appear in front of her before moving on. "Still one left..." Brend breathed as he took in the scene. "Yes....the bastard world..." the deeply cloaked figure, Azira responded, "....the one that doesn't matter" "Doesn't matter to who' You" Because I think some would take exception to your opinion, Jonas." "....that's not who I am, don't call me by that name..." Brend outright interrupting, "We know who you are. Your mask does nothing any longer." And in the gathering darkness a draconic mask did appear at the height of a mans head; a shadow dragon head, emptied of brain, skin and scales remolded on the outer layer to make it more fitting to a mans face. Despite Brend's words, the mask stayed in place.

"Dearest Brend....this world....will be an afterthought. Dessert. Those from the Prime are gone. The Crippled Lord first....he was the easiest, with the Red Lady's help," Azrira's voice turned almost to a sneer, "....and the Autumn Lord and Lantern Lord were as predictable as I thought they would be. Arrogantly rushing off to save him..." as the spoke, he grew more excited. As if some grand scheme were finally coming to fruition. "You've never understood Oblivion, not truly, have you? All I have to do is....nothing." at that, the dragon mask tilted sideways, and the eyes behind the mask were....madness. Darkness swirled behind him, filling that half of the entire Horizon realm as he loomed down on Brend, who stood his guard, "YOU SEEK TO TO RESTRICT ME" BEWARE, LITTLE MAN TIME CAN DIE!"

Brend suffered the gale that came with the thundering darkness, head cocked slightly away, an slightly irreverent smile on his face as he answered, hands lifting something from his pockets as he'd raise it to his lips, a d'bayang stick and a striker, which he used to light it. "Nope, I'm only here to....witness all things. Watchers creed and all, with the whole....Time thing....non interference, no risking the ire of Consensus, you know how it goes. Hmm?" And with that, he offered the lit spliff to Azira.

Azira, who had figured Brend was there to stop him, could only answer with a long, confused pause...

52.

The Lantern Lord was quiet, in his retrospect. He'd always heard about the End Times, and it seemed that his were drawing close. But he was Eternal, now, so gifted by the Autumn Lord's essence when he was ascended to something more than a man. How long had they been in the Vacuole? He had no way of telling, but he'd been there long enough, and was ready to leave.

The Autumn Lord was exhausted, time and time again having expended the limits of his energy to try to free them of the Vacuole. But diminished as he was separated from the Lantern, it was impossible, and he would not enervate the boy. There must be another way.

Then.

Shirtless with a sword in each hand, eyes closed and head bowed. A single wire ran from his left ear to an iPod on his arm, and as music began to pound through the ear bud, he began to....dance. It was the only method he had of clearing his head when she was running her solo missions for the Company. He knew too well what they could entail, and that often had his mind to wandering, fangs snapping out in rage and so he....burned it away in the Lantern Light. Blades snapped out to the side, slashing the air as his body went through the deadly motions of the bladedance.

He had other things besides her absence on his mind as well. His own solo Mission....requisitioned by the Autumn Lord himself, though how that man had managed to arrange so much influence within their power structure he couldn't fathom. He must pay incredibly well, because all of his associated contracts invoked the 'No Return' clause of their contract, citing higher rate of pay in exchange for waiving the dangerous footnote that it was a Mission from which you may not return. Of course Lady Nightshade, his partner, knew this all too well. Her first Mission for the Autumn Lord was how the Lantern Lord himself was able to join the Company proper, instead of remaining a clueless henchman, as it were.

True to form, the details of the contract were sparse, save that he was to accompany the Autumn Lord in a mercenary capacity.

The actual site of the supposed contract had only actually taken them a small ways from the Coven itself, and seemed safe enough.

Assuming a thing is safe is often the cause of untold troubles.

This had been no exception.

The Lord of Autumn had been waiting for him in the Hidden Garden in the northernmost area of Bristle Crios, and together they had entered the Garden, with the details being shared between them as they walked. The Crippled Lord had been struck down, and the two men were close.

As they entered the Garden, his energist had awakened to unveiled itself, sending the sonorous tone of thousands of bells through the air, their pealing notes breaking the silence at midnight though there were no such bells, at least not in the amount necessary, to provide the chorus that accompanied their leap into the Gateways within the Garden.

He had never felt so invincible, with her so near to him, their energies mixing, merging and coalescing to fill him with the power of Sovereign.

It lasted until he stepped from the Garden onto the Horizon plane of Alluvius, and he felt the connection he shared with the Lady of the Knight snap like a broken tether.

Even though she looked up at him from a desk which they appeared in front of.

12.

His body was numb. He thought, or at least what passed for coherent thought for him. His forehead brutally scared in the area of his sixth chakra, and one of his hands missing, lopped off at the forearm and capped with a blackened chrome looking substance; Alutek polymer, synthesized from his homeland. A Crippled Lord, they'd made him. Lord Thain and his men had been thorough in his treatment, before the Autumn Lord had stepped in and stopped them.

The voices in his head no longer spoke.

None of them.

The experience had bludgeoned them to silence, one way or another. Languishing in the Hall of the Dead and seeing the White Rose laying there, not once, but hundreds of times over. The Sirrush and the Other had not spoken since.

Around his neck, he wore a key, a key to the strongbox his head lay on as he listened to the Autumn and Lantern Lords talk.

Within the strongbox lay the Talon.

And across his back was branded...

The Alluvian symbol...

For Betrayal.

Then.

Oh, the days he had lain in Fields of Resplendent White Flowers...!

Not, technically, true.

While he had laid in them, it had not been since he lost the ability to leave.

The voices softly murmured in his mind, telling him how to alleviate the problem, and their solution made sense. There was one other who could remove themselves from this realm, to leave, the answer must lay within her mind. All the more problematic for him then, as her mind was not in this plane....save for a slight sliver, that spoke to him within his head. The Other.

For weeks, months, he studied, desperate. Always desperate to find her again....for although some things change, there are always some few things that remain the same. It was hard to separate fact from fiction, and there's an irony if ever there was one, as the tales, myths, legends, he heard about her....he had no way of substantiating. Some seemed preposterous....others....disturbing. After learning a thing, he would have to give himself time to process....so many things that there was no way she herself could have told him, not with her memory...

Wonderful things. And awful things. Depending on who you asked, and what the source considered blasphemy.

And though he was not physically crippled, not yet, perhaps he was mentally and emotionally.

The only question he ultimately wondered in the nights he spent alone, awake, simply waiting for the morning to start anew...

Is what his affections for such said about himself....and what kind of person he was...

But then as now, he loved her with abandon.

And then Nemesis spoke.

1.

Brendryck glanced sidelong at Azira, within his amorphous, cloying darkness.

His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword as he turned his attention back towards the scene on Horizon before him where newcomers had just entered. Azira seemed complacent, but Brend saw that as the lie it was. Oblivion was being held back, for the moment, by Time.

The Gates from the Hidden Garden didn't lead anywhere now, not without Brend's approval. Or rather, the place they lead to, in the present was....Oblivion.

If however, they weren't entered in the present...

It wasn't a solution.

It would compound every problem...

But when your only tool is a hammer....best to start looking at your problems like they're nails.

Saying a silent prayer to the Fallen One, and quietly thinking about his proteges...."Time's wasting."

~~~ Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives, but I rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey and reminds us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we've lived. After all, Number One, we're only mortal. - Cpt. Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: Generations

~~~

OOC Notes: I plan to resolve this thread up to present soon, but as it covers a fair amount of 'back story' as it were, the thread itself will likely continue for a while. Or until I feel bludgeoned by its weight. But definitely one of those. Thanks for reading. -K

~~~

Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken. Frank Herbert

~~~



12.

A Priori

The Hall of the Dead lay suspended in a limitless expanse of astral ocean, beautiful and terrible as a monument to death, life, and lives lived; free from moral judgement, or the perverse eyes of those who would worship, faun, mock or desecrate, bodies laying as in state protected by the glowing white crystal sarcophagi. Purged of those things which may have caused their deaths, the bodies looked to be in a state of eternal sleep.

The Crippled Lord walked long paths, circuitous routes which bisected each other and at times seemed to run in circles. He walked it all, in silence....and time lost meaning.

What happens in the mind, when one is forced to endure something which breaks the mind"

He could not process the sight which was before him though, somewhere in his subconscious everything was committed to memory. Likely, if there was mercy in the world....he would never remember. So far, luck had been an absent ally.

He'd been able to amass a sizable amount of information in the few months - Light! Had it been months" He knew not everything was true, some was obvious hearsay, rumors, gossip. If a person was in the right place, at the right time, and plied a speaker with the right amounts of alcohol or circumstances of their choice, tongues loosened. There were things both wondrous, and terrible.

It was never for him to judge, and he knew that, only to learn. ....endless avoidance...

How do you prepare to see The One you love, dead" Can you? He, could not. Nor was he prepared for what he saw, so the full shock of each and everyone, almost everyone, of the glorified coffins holding her....was too much for his already frail mind to bear.

He screamed, and raged. Sulked, and beat against the glowing white crystal structures. Cursed, and pleaded. Cried out. To silence.

But he visited every coffin. To look. To check. Morbid curiosity' Misguided hope" Something less....or more"

It didn't matter. The Path would not open to him, not out of this place.

And in days, he laid on the cold floor, waiting for an end that might never come. He'd moved as far away as he could from the white glowing boxes. Boxes. And thinking about the coffins like that only made him twitch all the more.

Until Nemesis again spoke to him. Except by this point, The Crippled Lord could no longer tell what was real, and what was not. Was he being spoken to, or another hallucination' Or perhaps just the cruel voices within him, entertaining themselves. The last one was the more unlikely, as they had recently been so quiet, but...

DO YOU UNDERSTAND"

....that I failed..."

NO. THAT YOU CAN GO BACK

....then why are you keeping me here"

I DO NOT

....I don't have the strength anymore...

YES, YOU DO. YOU LIE TO YOURSELF

.....

TIME AND AGAIN, YOU CHOOSE THE HARDER PATH

....sometimes, there is little choice. What would you have me do"

LEAVE

....I didn't choose to come here!!

YOU CAME, AND STAYED TOO LONG. YOU GREW SICK. THIS IN TURN MADE HER SICK

....you're a bastard. You could have helped her. So many times. Instead you wait to add her to your sick collection. Then what? Wait for the next one" I won't let you bring her here. You don't love her. You don't know what love -is-. I'll find a way....I'll change...

He wasn't yet finished his rant, and he vanished from the Hall of the Dead.

And another pair of black booted feet fell upon the floor. The manifestation wasn't necessary, at all. But it added a certain something for him. Odd the things one recalls and yearns for, even those things that another living being - or even dead being - will ever determine of you. Those things that you keep....only for yourself, away from the rest of the world. The rest of the Universe and beyond. This was one of those things.

The figure walked the circuit that the Crippled Lord had walked, footsteps sending hollow echoes throughout the structure.

Until he came upon it. One of the crystalline encasement's bore dust, which he very gently reach down to brush away. There was nothing here to cause the dust, except for the one who had just left. In some ways, the two of them were very alike. They both bore, in their own way, a completely unconditional love for a woman who....often felt she couldn't be loved. Or was simply dismissed or....a host of other nonsense. His vision took in the entire hall of caskets. Why was it so hard to love someone in a way that you were honest enough in it, that you wished the person happiness" True happiness? Such an endless cycle. Grant happiness, satisfaction and....remove the motive from a person to do the dark things which preclude that happiness. Simple. That realization was the one shining light from the man who had just left.

The hand lingered for a moment above the face of the seemingly sleeping woman, and an unseen momentary look of sadness and grief crossed his features - sadly, in a time and place that no one could ever see, or pry into.

And it was no manifestation but his own voice that softly spoke, "Yes, Kaius....I do know what love is....it is the reason you still draw breath."

Nemesis departed the Hall, and in turning back to look at it as he did so, he took in the sight that no other could behold.

The white glowing crystalline sarcophagi gave a distinct impression when floating alone on the astral sea.

The single blossom of a White Rose.

~~~

It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change. Charles Darwin

~~~

~~~

Whether in the intellectual pursuits of science or in the mystical pursuits of the spirit, the light beckons ahead, and the purpose surging in our nature responds." ― Arthur Stanley Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World

~~~

52.

Kaiden, the Lantern Lord, strode from the Gates with the scabbarded blades of Darkness and Light knocking lightly against his back in their duel sheath. Ear buds hung around his neck and down over his shoulders; he'd been tempted to just put them in, turn his music on, and tune out the conversation that the Autumn Lord and the Lady of Knight would be having, but he didn't suspect they would leave him out of it - despite his reasoning that they had things to discuss that certainly didn't involve him.

A person had enough trouble when they were static in time and place, without either being distorted as it was here, to tell people how much they were cared for.

Well, Kaiden had taken care of that. Offer the old fool no choice, if he couldn't see clear to do it on his own, Kaiden would force the issue. Not that he was unsympathetic to the man's plight, but the way he went moon eyes around the woman was insufferable and would ultimately lead to more questions, so might as well them out of the way early, rather than wait for them to grow only more complex.

Unmindful of how it looked or the ridicule it might invite, he began to go through a series of stretches as he walked, loosening his arm muscles as if he were going to spar. Not that that was likely, as he hadn't met any real competition here yet, even in friendly matches. A quiet ripping sound issued from the fabric covering his shoulder as he did so, causing a frown. Blasted uniforms were too tight as well, gods be good the mounting reasons he sought to be home and free of this place were ever growing.

That settled that.

As soon as they returned, he would pull rank and insist on being permanently assigned to Lady Nightshades division. Though he supposed, if he'd taken one of his own as was offered to him a week before this mission came up, he would not have been here either. He preferred, however, not to lead. Leadership had always sat uncomforable with him. Just the thought lead him to scowl, as he remembered the Autumn Lords words when the two of them had discussed the issue....Kaiden heard his voice, still,

"It's often the person who does not seek a role, and sees the many pitfalls that a role might entail, who are the best suited to seeing a thing done."

Miserable old fool, he wasn't about to take advice from one such as that; not when that one constantly lamented over how much of his life lay wasted. His company would not have been that bad, had he not been so blasted maudlin.

Soon enough, he hoped, he would be free of it.

The Autumn Lord was sure that his brother was close now, almost as close as they had been back in Rhy'din - physically close, that is. Somehow, the old man could feel....something of him.

And that further disturbed him; when he'd pressed the Autumn Lord about how it was he could detect him....the sensation he described, and how he came upon it, sounded vaguely similar to the sensation Kaiden felt when waiting for the Old man.

As he walked, he noticed a group of men sparring, eight of them broken into groups of two. He thought to approach, "Perhaps....if I take on all eight..." He raised a hand, and offered his most sincere smile as he strode towards them.

But one notion he had come firmly into his mind even as he negotiated for a sparring session, "I'll be long dead before I accept another of Kristoph's follies as employment."

Little did he know...

He was right.

~~~

"The light was only just visible - except of course that there was no one to see, no witnesses, not this time, but it was nevertheless a light.? ― Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency

~~~

~~~

"It makes me wonder, do we spend most of our days trying to remember or forget things" Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives" I don't know." ― Markus Zusak, Fighting Ruben Wolfe

~~~

52.

The Autumn Lord narrowed his eyes, watching the assembling crowd from within the confines of his hood. Being about at this hour of the day, especially here, was somewhat risky. Be that as it may, he was driven both by impatience and compulsion - both to see his task completed, and to see Fiona - though he knew there was only so much he could tell her. He wasn't certain, but he was confident that it was best he not give himself away to her now, not at this time. Not before they'd met.

The sun was cresting the horizon, just as the assembled crowd waited to gain entry to a different Horizon - the demiplane where Fiona worked, located at a crux between various Kiergaardian Gates - this one in particular being that which could lead a person to the outer reaches of Extalyon - the King City, the Spires, and the City of Lights.

Knowing it was the goal of the Council, and most members on it, to ascend the Thirteenth Spire darkened his mood. It wasn't the knowing, as much as the helplessness to prevent what was coming....the letting loose of....a different evil. The High Counciler, or High Seat - or a dozen other titles he gave himself - who was Damon Logos, sought to ascend that Spire, and fulfill a Puhra Dahli belief that he who would rule them would ascend, and be granted a King Sword, one of those that the ancient texts called the Blades of Dominion.

It was ironic, that one of those blades now rested upon his back in the form of the hand and a half bastard sword, Justiciar.

This time, this place, gave him too much to think about, and caused his mind to wander far. Focus.

It wasn't just the time and the place, either. His mind was being filled with new....old memories. The sensation was unsettling, to say the least.

He cursed Atticus. He was sure it was something to do with the Myriad, but even a High Mage would take pause before attempting to follow the convoluted paths of their construction - he doubted even Atticus could explain it, truth be told - and he was the one who had constructed their physical forms.

Justicar, a Myriad unveiled....and yet, not.

Memoria, a Myriad unveiled....and yet, not.

He knew that sometimes Myriad that became close to one another did something called 'resonating'; he'd learned that from the head of a monastic Order in the Danda Presh hills; one of the Aurcanian Order, who were known as metaphysical philosophers. According to what he'd learned, though, that should not be happening to him - he'd seen Fiona, here. She didn't possess Memoria, and so he assumed that it had yet to be drawn. There was too much about it he didn't know; if his memories changed, they should be in ways he would have had a harder time noticing, and it shouldn't happen until he....returned....home.

He decided it wasn't something he would spend time worrying about, unless the mental discordance became more severe.

Focus.

Home.

If he thought anyone else could have claimed dominion over Memoria, he would have been worried; as it was....one faulty move by either himself or Kaiden, could have dire implications for when he returned....his memories could be irrevocably twisted....or the same could happen to hers. But....it was Fiona...

So hard to focus...

The Kiergaardian Gate flared to life, and people began to move inside.

Fiona must have returned to open Congress between the Council and the People.

He took a breath, preparing himself for the ache of being so close yet so far from her.

Closing his eyes, he stepped into the Gate.



365.

Fighting in a Horizon realm was delicate business, especially for one possessed by a Myriad. Even more so when those you were fighting were similarly possessed. Still, he had an edge. He had not been among the first to claim - or be claimed by - his Myriad, but do to its inherent nature, he had possessed it longer than any other.

He glanced from the vision of a particular present from the Horizon realm - the present in which Kaius was being tortured. The Red Lady was in both places, at both times; a paradox. Brend smiled, and the Tempus Myriad flared azure blue, leaving his eyes lighted with pulsing energy. "....Ah, ah, ah....you know the rules, and this is a clear violation," smiling, his hand quickly left the hilt of his blade and made a backhanded gesture towards the Red Lady, which was answered by an outraged look on her part - before she was torn backwards through Time. "She'll be dealt with later....now, onto..." he paused.

"Azira, they're all....new....aren't they?" He felt his confidence building, not giving Dy'Hauc a chance to answer - even as his two remaining allies advanced on their own, making arcane gestures with each step. Each movement, grandiose and intricate alike were focused on channeling their respective wills into Brend - the will of their Myriad - Blight & Madness. His hand reached now back to the hilt of his sword, as he felt his body begin to breakdown, becoming weak. He began to forget who he was, what he was doing, why, wasn't it time for a nap"

NO!

He forced himself upright, his eyes burgeoning again with the power of his Myriad....Blight' Madness" Could those not be symptoms of....old age"

Now that was something he could combat.

Even as he stood and faced his antagonists again, Azira Dy'Hauc snarled, "How long are you going to stand in my way, defending these....three?"

Brend forced an even fuller smile, the corners of his mouth aching. He could sense the frustration. He couldn't even muster the wit to insult Brend's blood brothers. One man shouldn't have been able to hold out this long. But then, he wasn't a man, was he - he was a High Eternal, too. To hell with Dy'Hauc, and just throw it in his face, he replied, "As long as it takes."

~~~

"Don't waste your time with explanations: people only hear what they want to hear.? ― Paulo Coelho

~~~

~~~

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." ― Abraham Lincoln

~~~

1.

"Oh, yes. We'd counted on that, Brend," you could hear it, beneath that mask. Azira, or whoever the hell he was, was smiling. "we've long known you would never turn your back on your brothers, though there's no blood between you," the smile was growing, as he murmured, "ever the good boy, aren't you, Brendryck....lad."

One thing at a time, Brend's mind raced, hand again on the hilt of his sword as he did his level best to ignore Dy'Hauc's constant ranting tirade. A dangerous game was being now played, it was true. Would Dy'Hauc lie" Brend didn't know, but he at least half counted on it. The trouble was, if the truth was more unsettling....that's instead what he thought would issue forth.

Madness & Blight, Jonas & Kitarlin, drew closer. Still, Dy'Hauc quipped, "You don't understand, do you?" His voice, his tone, changing, sounding half sympathetic, "How Oblivion works" You have to....give yourself to it, you see....well, you don't....have to, but....it makes you so much stronger. After you take it within....nothing can be taken from you. Time," he began to laugh, more a chuckle, low and under his breath, "has no bearing, not on me. Not when I can move outside of time. As is the same with Space," and now as he spoke, everything changed yet again - the smile that could be heard before on his lips now turned nasty, like a smirk, "however do you think I torment poor Kaius so' So....easily' Wherever he goes....I can touch him, if I search; he travels within, but I....I travel without. And outside, distance is not shorter - it simply doesn't exist."

Damnit.

This was probably one of those times that Dy'Hauc was telling the truth, which meant.......Brend should really be listening. Of course, Dy'Hauc probably counted on that as well, taking advantage of his intelligence, confusing him. Confounding him. Probably circumventing his very well, and using Brend as a tool towards his own ends.

Well, two could play at that game. "You realize, that if we engage, they're as good as dead?" Tempus was quickly drawn from its scabbard, and its metals refracted crazily in the lurid light being flickered around Horizon by the scene itself as well as the various ascendants not present. Tempus, called Dark Tempus by some, and Doom of the False Bloods by still others, was one of the Blades of Dominion. Like Kristoph's Justiciar, it was closely tied to Brend's own Myriad, and the full power of that was wielded bare in it's blade. To the casual observers eyes, Brend's movements would appear non fluid and jerky, once battle was engaged; it wasn't that he was necessarily moving faster so much as stepping into and out of time at the moments that he would strike, the chance that he would be struck severely reduced. And this was but a minor, minor, manifestation. Were he to fully unveil Time...

It was less fair, and harder to do, due to Consensus and Paradox, but he could have simply sent them to the end of their allotted life span. Or, send them back to the moment of conception. They wouldn't live long, as little more than tadpoles without the ability to even flop around on the ground. No longer than would the dust that would be left if he simply threw them forward. These two....Jonas....Kitarlin, they were living things, men he'd once known. He would hesitate to do that, they weren't like the Red Lady....a construct. Soulless. Perhaps that thought was crass, or callous, but when you're fighting for your life, even the philosophical must draw arbitrary lines in the sand.

He repeated himself, "They're dead! If they move any further!"

Dy'Hauc smiled behind the mask. Fully, truly, smiled. Brend was distracted.

His voice seemed to issue from directly behind Brend now, close, so close. Just behind his left ear, close enough to send shivers up Brend's spine and make him feel the need to sick up, "Perhaps," Dy'Hauc whispered, "....but it's not as if I care."

Brendryck surged forward.

~~~

"Power changes everything till it is difficult to say who are the heroes and who the villains." ― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

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I just want one person I can rescue and I want one person who needs me. Who can't live without me. I want to be the hero, but not just one time." - Chuck Palahniuk

~~~

52.

In the days they waited for information on Kaius, the two continued to duel, though never again would Kaiden be caught off guard, at least not as he had been that first occasion. Perhaps dueling is an inadequate term for what the two men did, for they fought. The rules of the duel were abandoned with that first go around, after all. Although it may seem barbaric, it benefited both of them. They needed an out for what they were feeling, and dueling wasn't serving that purpose - couldn't serve that purpose - because it was too contrived. It wasn't real. When you fought someone, really fought them, there were no rules. So far, the only two rules that the men had completely kept so far was that they would neither maim nor kill the other, and when the fight was done....it was as if all animosity held during the match had vanished. They would gather their gear and depart from the usual gathered crowd of onlookers. They usually left without challenge - it was obvious to the rest of the men in the local squads that these two were their betters, at least in swordplay. On occasion, one of the younger soldiers of the local companies would challenge them in jest, his face red and full of bluster, "How'd you like to step in with me then" You two have fought each other so many times at this point, its not that you're good, you just know how the other will react and-" The man would often halt there, as he was fixed with twin emerald gazes, and unreadable, passive faces which betrayed less than a stone monolith.

"How many of you?" would come a quiet question, though from Kristoph or Kaiden, it varied on who decided to speak first - for the entire exchange was scripted, the two of them having discussed it as a joke to perpetrate against their would be men at arms. Until Kaiden actually acted on it, barely able to quell a grin into a more threatening smirk at the time.

"What do you mea-?" would often come the reply from the regular.

"How many of you wish to challenge one of us?" their stare would remain fixed and unblinking, the entire time, never leaving the eyes of the man stammering his challenge.

"N-no, I was just kiddi-" his face had gone white as he tried to backpedal, even literally taking a step backward.

"Are you seeking to infringe upon our honor, sir?" Kristoph's eyebrow would raise just enough to be noticeable.

"I'm sorry, sirs, we-" another step backward, hand having left the hilt of his sword, both offered palms up now to the two men in apology.

One of the two would break into a quiet, reserved laugh, as the other smiled and told the man to calm down, they were only jesting with him in the manner he sought to jest with them, and wasn't that funny' The often weak laugh and wave was hardly encouraging to the thought of what the man felt of himself, but Kristoph, Kaiden, and whatever group were watching the challenger return certainly found it amusing.

To further confound those who spoke to them, the two men now each wore a molded black stone in their ear - only in one ear, but forcing Kaiden to sacrifice the comfort of stereo sound from his iPod. Hardly noticeable unless one was looking, Kristoph had introduced them to Kaiden as devices that allowed communication without speech. Kaiden immediately recognized the tactical value they held, and deemed the sacrifice to be....mostly warranted. He still listened in one ear though, to continuously looped music.

This had further strengthened their bond, as they adapted to having to filter their thoughts - and learned how similar their thoughts were, even if they didn't usually present in the same fashion. The difference, was patience. As patient as Kaiden was, Kristoph was more so; Kaiden was a volcano, idling smoking, the forever threat of something dangerous which never really takes shape until it explodes into deadly violence, Kristoph was the ocean depths, slow, rolling, and just as deadly, if not as outright spectacular - except perhaps for the complete lack of anything at all, which might seek to reside in its, his, wake.

Their selves were mirrored in other ways as well, in that they were both distracted by the women in their lives, and once they each realized that....it wasn't that the distraction became less, but their drive to return unified between them, and became the cornerstone of their camaraderie.

The artificial telepathic bond had also allowed Kaiden to come to realize just how much of what he had - what had lead him to be recruited by the Company in the first place - had come from Kristoph. Errant thoughts lead to provocative conversations, which in turn lead to tales of meeting a female vampire beneath the Catacombs of the Coven Compound. And from their the story of their connected past unfolded.

Like many days in their growing kinship, this day would be unique. Both men left the sparring grounds fully outfitted, as if going into the bush. Enough regulars came and went gear thusly though, that it drew little attention. Their destination by now, seemed rote to them. The grounds of the gateway. Having done some of their own headhunting, and rumor tracking, they had managed to narrow down where Kaius was being kept, at least enough that they could give Fiona more to work on - had given her more to work on. If she didn't provide an answer this time - she was scheduled to be closing Council shortly - then they'd do another foray on their own.

Kaiden's thoughts were on Layla. He could hide nothing from Kristoph as thoughts bubbled to the surface; he thought Layla was scared, afraid of what she felt, and unable to admit to feeling anything. He wanted to show her that that didn't have to be so. To make her realize, feel, that they weren't just two dead people whispering in one another's ears. It was great for her, but....it hurt Kaiden to play, though he wouldn't show it, instead putting up his continual facade. He brushed at his face, it felt naked suddenly, though he couldn't say why. Instead, he followed her like he was possessed, a traitor hiding beneath the breast of his shirt, even if she was never impressed with him. That would be the way it was. Until the mission was over. There was nothing else....until the mission was over. He wouldn't go back to her a failure, and he wouldn't fail until he was ....more dead. Because he would never relent.

Kristoph's thoughts, mercifully for him in a way, and cruel in another, drowned out Kaiden's own, at least to Kristoph. The biggest mistake of his life, of several lives, haunted him every time he made this journey to the gate circle. He should have brought her with him, though he knew not what kind of ramifications that would have, the two of them meeting. But he didn't care. He'd make war for her, destroy worlds for her. Though it wouldn't come to that, he was sure. Despite all that, he had a hard time repressing a smile. He was sure their exodus was close. And he was growing bolder when he saw her, letting his face stand more revealed, for increasingly longer lengths of time. He was determined that if she ever recognized who he was, and remembered....when he returned to her, in Rhy'din....she would remember that when he saw her, he was smiling.

No longer did they have to wait in mulling crowds, for their eventual dispersal, to see Fiona.

As they approached, all save those who had actual business with her melted away.

Among the camps, they were known as men of dangerous ashes.

And they had business to be about.

The rescue of Kaius...

....and themselves.



~~~

"Now....all opposed to being rescued, raise your hands, otherwise, I'd like to get the f*** out of here" - Felicity Heaton

~~~

~~~

"Memories and possibilities are even more hideous than realities." H. P. Lovecraft

~~~

12.

Hidden deep amidst a pine forest claimed by some minor noble or another, was the transdimensional structure that was colloquially called by the generation who had discovered it, as the Cage.

Close by, a Gateway opened.

The Cage lay well within the registered lands of the Youngblood Baronies, and was well hidden there among the many towers and keeps that the family had established to house each of their family from the House proper; each minor noble of any consequential power " and that means power in terms of arcane strength, or force of charisma " was granted its own domicile. To that end, the landscape of their baronies was littered with secluded structures of arcane import.

His daughter, if she could be called that, had not visited in some time. Without any way of marking time, he could not tell how long it had truly been since the one calling herself "Charnel" had tortured him.

The land around the Cage thundered distantly, as though a storm had risen, lashing the land.

Not that it mattered much, to him.

For the most part, Kaius wasn't home.

Which the figure sitting cross legged opposite him thought was a complete shame; just because Charnel no longer sought to dig through his mind and soul (one has to have hobbies, after all), hardly meant that he had no company. The figure, wearing a dark cloak and cowl, was Dy"Hauc. And in his hands he clutched that dark mask created from the tiniest throat scales of a baby shadow dragon " that thing called the Serpent Veil.

And he was perplexed, and as openly so as he had ever been in fact " given his certainty that Kaius did not comprehend enough to understand those subtle clues that gave away his sometimes mortal thought process; those things would be easy enough for another to read, given that he had removed his Veil " and had even gone so far as to force it over Kaius head. But to no avail, though Kaius was in part taken or corrupted by the force of Oblivion' Dy"Hauc could no longer inhabit him, no matter how much power was leveraged to dislodge whatever dwelt within him now.

Energy rained down upon the Cage " or that building at least, that housed the arcane tesseract structure that the Cage truly was. Someone had discovered its location.

To point, as far as Azira could tell, it was something Charnel had done which had broken Kaius so badly that to inhabit him was no longer possible. Some harm done in a spiritual, or emotional way, perhaps, that had just caused that part of him to degrade too far " were he a corpse, it would be possible, but then he would be bereft of certain advantages gained by the possession of a living host as well.

Not that there were not other hosts, easy to occupy " most without even realizing it had happened, and others embracing their newfound abilities that were the gift of the forces of "Darkness", not realizing that "what had gifted them abilities would destroy the darkness just as quickly as the light.

"It seems we have a visitor?" breaking his contemplation, Azira's head turned slowly to glance towards where there would in another structure be walls " but here were only abstract walls of darkened void. "Not that they'll be able to reduce the wards enough to get into-" he stopped short, interrupted by wheezing laughter from the Crippled Lord, Kaius. "Oh, so you are awake after all?" He frowned then as the only response he incurred was more wheezing, gasping, breaths. And dull, jade, lightless eyes, staring at his unmasked face.

"He's coming?" Kaius smiled, cracking his dry lips anew and turning his teeth red with fresh blood as he bared them at Dy"Hauc.

As if to emphasize his words, the walls began to " lighten.

Reality in the area around the Cage trembled as multiple Warren's were unleashed and set against the wards in the structure"

"And it looks like he's bringing your house down?" one wall in particular began to shift to a negative image color scheme, blacks becoming whites and whites, blacks. Kaius head turned so that he was staring straight upwards again, and his eyes closed.

Azira rose with a snarl, staring at the far wall which had begun to turn patchwork white and seemed to melt and drip like candle wax to the floor, "WHO?" his snarled retort sounding even as he became incorporeal black energy which surged away from the coming intrusion, adhering itself to the other remaining walls and seeming to bolster the darkness of the void that lingered there still.

His question was never answered by Kaius.

Because Kaius was, again, no longer at home.

~ ~

"If I am mad, it is mercy! May the gods pity the man who in callousness can remain sane to the hideous end!" H. P. Lovecraft

~~~

52.

"We're not here to kill the "bad guy", we're here to retrieve Kaius, and get out." The words were spoken softly, and more for his own benefit than as a true answer to Kaiden's commentary. There was definitely a part of him that wanted to heed the youths advice, and simply attempt to destroy Dy"Hauc now while the opportunity availed itself. He was in his own past, or a version of, from what he could tell " and from what speculation he could glean from Brendryck before beginning the venture. Of all the discussion Brend offered, though, what he was most adamant about was the fact that what had happened before could not be changed; he hadn't offered anything further on that particular subject, but Kristoph had the notion he was implying that because Dy"Hauc was known to them to exist in their worlds "present", he could not be destroyed in the past.

As he thought back on his conversation with Brendryck, on the nature of what he could accomplish when he undertook this quest, he used the heel of his boot to form the image of sigils in the dirt and brush. The image he made upon the ground began to resemble a circle with a ten foot diameter marked at four equidistant points along its circumference by a circle one foot in diameter; as he completed marking off the last of the four smaller spheres, he knelt and using his bare fingers traced further sigils within each of those. His thoughts went to Atticus D"Arcstorm as he continued to work.

Atticus had made the Cage, or at least helped in its design. It had been difficult to get a straight answer out of him; the Atticus he'd had access to " like many of the other Alluvians except for Brend " had not been from the same plane of existence as himself. This Atticus was younger, and hadn't yet become the Artificer, except in title. He had known about this Cage, however " and offered his insights.

Kristoph stepped back from the last modifications to the runes, stepping into the very center of them, and turned slowly as he rechecked his work. Each of the smaller nodes now had lines radiating outward from them, while other lines radiated inwards towards where Kristoph stood; those lines found one of their ends at a point on the circumference of the greater circle, equally spaced between the nodes, and culminating in the center " in a glyph under his feet.

He hadn't known the location of the Cage, but he knew of its existence. In this time, it had been the reasonable assumption for his location. There were few other places Kaius could have been located, and Kristoph was glad he'd not had to venture to either of them instead; especially after his early talk with Brendryck. He hadn't wanted to venture to Extalyon, or Hyperion Machina; he didn't want to even think about them, in truth, and banished the thoughts from his mind. He was simply anxious, to be this close to the end, to have it in sight, to"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and dropping to one knee, hands seeking the soil in places which would not disrupt the runes and sigils he'd inscribed. He had to start, no more putting it off.

Quell the nervous energy and"

He clutched the soil, and began to speak in a spidery tongued language of magic that his spells were conceived in; as he did so the lines upon the ground erupted with a light that began nearest him in the center and followed the lines of the sigils inscribed upon the ground" until it came to one of the nodes.

The sigil within the node that the energy touched first was "Darkness", and as the manifestation of power touched it, a column of energy spiraled from it high into the sky " and remained in effect, as the light on the ground continued its way to the next node, inscribed with "Light""

And a second column joined the first, flaring high in to the sky " a visible beacon for miles upon miles into the distance of his location.

He had no time to worry now, not in the middle of the ritual; that's why Kaiden had been necessary. For the moment, he was vulnerable, and so Kaiden had been sent to sow confusion before the ritual began, in order to make any retaliation longer organizing. None of this was even a thought in his mind, he was too focused on maintaining the energy of the spell " too much so to even worry about whether or not Atticus" guess to which realms the Cage was aspected to' though at least he had been certain that it's construction was based on pushing several layered realms away from a "bubble" within reality, making a pseudo-void - a subspace bubble.

The next two nodes fired off in succession, though the wait for them took but moments, it seemed agonizingly long " due in part to the wave of energy that seemed to crash over him as the last two sigils flared; "Time", and "Space" aspected, and inscribed within the ritual of the spell to focus a pathway through to the actual physical place of the Cage.

Still within the sigils flaring on the ground, he was able to extend his senses beyond their normal reach; he looked down on the combat ensuing below, watching Kaiden efficiently dispatching enemies as they rushed him, each new wave wearing at him little by little, made manageable only by their arrogance in thinking themselves hidden. As Kristoph watched, both Kaiden and the assailants moved like blurs across the landscape, and at times he watched as they repeated the same actions over and over again; their actions appeared choppy and disjointed at times, but Kristoph realized after a time that he wasn't watching them repeating actions, he was merely perceiving them outside their normal linear order.

Focusing his gaze now upon the Cage, the blurring of his senses began to clear " and the Cage was the one aspect left, to the immediate horizon at least, which was totally in sync with his senses. It was a short, squat building, which extended far into the ground below it. Its outer walls were strong enough " stone reinforced with steel, and both materials bearing protective runes and abjurations in both their individual construction, and more elaborate ones where the materials were jointed, to make it more difficult to rend them asunder.

He closed his eyes, left arm raising to his back scabbard, and drew his bastard sword, Justiciar.

Deep within his veins flowed the Tiam Pathogen, inert through all his varied incarnations that had gone into the formation of his High Eternal self. What the technocrats would call a virus or disease, and what others would superstitiously call a curse, the Tiam Pathogen was the Serpent Plague of Bygone Days; but what others " especially Arcanists would call the Blood of Magic.

The Blood of Dragons.

His eyes opened as vertical slits and he focused his will" and felt himself rising, growing, upwards; his form changing, becoming stronger, veering into' something else. As he did so, the energy of the pillars began to deflect outwards, ranging horizontally rather than vertically into the sky, spreading its effects over all those combatants on the field " bringing everyone into alignment on one realm, along with the Cage. His form continued to grow, becoming a massive winged leviathan, scales of reflective onyx, with a very fine red patina " in the form of vines wrought into each scale, for those who dared look close enough; wings tucked against his sides fanned out, and up, spreading into the air as he stretched his new body; an elongated face upon a long neck was framed by two horns on either side curling downward, and one protruding long and sharp from his forms "third eye".

On the fields below, he watched as Kaiden staggered " thankfully his assailants did as well " as their perceptions were altered by the effect of his ritual. A small group of would be hidden assassins were crushed underfoot without a chance to even cry out, as he took a lumbering step forward; he paid them no more attention than would a person working their garden, slamming their foot down upon an ant.

Kristoph's focus was solely upon the Cage which held his brother.

Some part of him registered " barely " Kaidens upward glance, and a string of obscenities uttered from the boy as he sprinted along a strafing path, moving out of the direct line between Kristoph and the Cage. Kaiden's mind had deduced perhaps what Kristoph " the creature in this form at least " had planned as its neck snaked backward and its chest expanded, eye's blazing with hellish red light"

"And suddenly the neck shot forward, extending fully towards the Cage and exhaling at the same time; having held Justiciar in hand as he had veered, the power of that sword was imbued into the very maw of the beast he had become " a maw which was now the gateway to Erebus, yawning open, roaring as it spilled forth liquid white hot fire in a stream towards the Cage.

The Fires of Erebus, the Fires of Judgment.

Balefire.

~~~

"You are an honest and honorable man, Lord Eddard. Often times I forget that. I have met so few of them in my life." He glanced around the cell. "When I see what honesty and honor have won you, I understand why." ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

~~~

~~~

Life starts from a white hole and ends in a black hole. -Santosh Kalwar

~~~

1.

"Let go of the past, it's irrelevant; the past is simply the path that was taken to get to the point you're at today. There's no sense in casting about in dreams and fantasies wondering what life would have been like if you'd chosen a different fork somewhere earlier in the trip. Before you lies a monster, a creature of your own dark imagination made real. It knows your every weakness, and is poised to counter your every strength. The moment you choose to turn around and wish you'd taken a different path' The monster eats you." The hushed voice would have cracked as it gave its sage advice to the two other, elder men at the fire, had it yet entered its adolescence.

Three men, two men and a boy in truth, sat around the fire, now. All held similar physical mannerisms, and exhibited shared taste in vibrant blue clothing.

And all three held but a single Myriad between them.

Tempus.

Lost in it's rapturous power, the man known as Lord Brendryck Stormgaard had manifested three distinct versions of " himself. One man, yet three; memories and experiences shared through the link of their Myriad. Call it cosmic karma, if you will; some small comfort for the man who must watch the ill fate of his friends and family with futility, and alone as well. At least now, he could commiserate with himself, after a fashion.

"I can't watch, Ages," The middle aged fellow " Lord Brendryck - said, glancing up from the fire and across at the older gentleman " known more commonly as Urdru. "Tell me when it's over."

"There must be something we can do," the youth " who fashioned himself "Colt' - stood up, his question made all the more dubious due to his age; if he'd seen ten summers, he'd have to have been born 9 years ago by the end of August.

Urdru, or Ages as he was called by Lord Brend, looked on quietly, his eyes never leaving the flames. It was extremely tempting to just screw with their heads " but since they were him, essentially, he knew it would only piss himself off. The irony of not being able to irritate the youths who were now irritating him, due to the self detrimental nature, was not lost on him. Instead of garbling his words as he was wont to do, he simply gave them a glare that he hoped sufficed. "Sit. Down. It'll be fine in the end; if it's not fine, then it must not be the end."

Brend muttered, "It's kinda the end," and Colt snickered in response.

Ages roared, "IT"S NOT THE END TIL I SAY IT"S THE END!"

That drew their attention from the flames completely, to focus upon Urdru, both Brend and Colt with serious faces. Colt began to snicker again, and even Brend couldn't keep the grin from his lips. Ages" face began to turn a deep, ugly red. In his momentary anger, he stopped thinking logically and using Tempus" power " stopped considering"

"Your friends, your family, are about to die. And you can't do anything, but you can at least watch their last moments, can't you? And not make a joke about it?" Ages" shook, eyes wet with rage. The only response he'd evoked, though, was a softening of Brend's smile, and a sudden quiet demeanor which suffused Colt.

"We know," spoke Colt, softly, "we've already seen it, because you've already seen it."

"We're not here for them, right now; we've already been here for them, and will be again. Right now, we're here for you." Brend's voice, calm and measured as it was, had a way of making almost anything sound reasonable. For a moment, Urdru looked chastised and bowed his head.

"I thought," Urdru clawed at his face, "You were going to make me watch it alone, all over again?"

"Never," Colt began, moving closer to Urdru, just as Brend moved to the elders other side.

"Old man." Brend finished, each of the younger incarnations taking a stance beside Urdru, as the three of them turned towards the fire.

The ancient wiped at his eyes and stared blearily back into the flames, "Alright, my boys" I'm ready to say it. It's the end. Now, witness.?

~ ~ ~

Roaming through this darkness I'm alive but I'm alone Part of me is fighting this But part of me is gone - Three Doors Down, When I'm Gone

~ ~ ~

1.

"When I rewrite this," Ages began, "I plan on making it a lot more flowery. Well, perhaps flowery is the wrong word. Grandiose " that's the one I'm looking for."

Brend's attention was focused on the flames and Ages" comment drew a perturbed sidelong glance. "Rewrite," his brow creased though he kept his eyes where they were, "what do you mean?" "A joke, lad. I'm not overly fond of what?s about to happen." Brend's brow further creased and now he glanced at Ages, "And you think it should be more" grandiose?" "Something like that," Ages murmured, frowning at the fire. Brend paused, then "What are you saying it is now?"

Colt, thus far silent, now spoke. He knew what Ages was getting on about, having been recently lectured on it himself. It was strange for him to see Brend, to see himself in essence in the midst of the transition into the man he would inevitably be, this Ages. His answer to Brend's question left his lips before Ages had a chance to wet his lips.

"Like the philosophers say: nasty, brutal, and short. No wonder I have to watch this three times, you won't shut up and pay attention!"

Brend looked chastised and Ages snorted. And they both witnessed.



12.

"Sirrush," Kaius spoke dreamily as a feral smile grew on his lips, "Can you see between the stars" Yes," he continued apparently holding both sides of the conversation even as the Cage rocked and melted around him, "we know you can' we see it too; if we die here, you cannot serve your purpose?"

Unbidden, a voice spoke in Kaius's mind " not someone that existed only in his mind, but a separate entity. "Defend the White Rose."

"Yes, that's the one?" Kaius's sigh as he spoke was wistful, and his grip on consciousness was slipping. "See if you can't leash the Manticore virus, would you? And perhaps Tiama as well?" See if they can't?" he yawned, eyes fluttering, "raise Pathfinder to do something" useful. I need to just, close my eyes?"

Kaius's chest heaved one last time and he stopped breathing for a moment. The portents of that were lost for the nonce, as his body flashed with dark energy, becoming enveloped in nanomesh fiber and omni-ablative plates, Pathfinder's Myriad Mark upon his brow glowing crimson while his eyes became silver-blue pools of quantum energy.

The True Vessel was enveloped as well, taking the place within the suit that would have normally been occupied by his now absent arm.

A series of protocols went through the Sirrush's mind as it calculated the situation it was now placed in, and its immediate concern becoming extraction. It's physical form froze momentarily as it initiated neural handshake protocols with the hybrid virii within it, and a separate one for the Pathfinder Myriad. Whatever it had begun life as, some hybridized version of a Alluvian High Eternal that was Kaius Arkennen Knightfall and a host of bio-chemical, and arcane anomalies, the Sirrush was now completely it's own being " at least as long as Kaius was incapacitated.

When it finally moved again, it was fast. It surged forward and, with it's one good arm which ended in a talon, made a single diagonal swipe through the air in front of it, slashing open a gateway " or trying to. The Sirrush's talon fetched up mid-swipe and he now seemed to wrestle with reality as if it were some visceral thing that could be actually cut. Though it was slow, a rift eventually began to tear open " to the one place the Sirrush considered a safe "base of operations".

The Nexus.



52.

Kristoph's power was far from inexhaustible, and his dragon form had all but drained him; normally it would not have been so but the Cage had been designed to withstand all manner of attack. Except perhaps the one he had used. It's architects had realized that any such onslaught would leave the perpetrator " they hoped at least " spent and needing to recuperate. He should have seen what was coming, should have realized with out little opposition he'd been facing that Dy"Hauc had been marshalling his power, curling about himself and keeping crouched down " literally and metaphorically, perhaps. He had breathed and breathed upon the structure, pouring every ounce of power that he and his Myriad had into it to take it down, and when he lost his draconic form he was left upon his knees, retching into the smoldering grass.

Dy"Hauc's counter stroke had happened like lightning, black bands of energy roiling from within the mage's cloak to grip his wrists and ankles, stringing him into the air and holding him there posed as though he were being crucified.

"Brend must still be reeling from the singularity, hmm?" the casual tone Dy"Hauc took as he walked towards Kristoph spelled out exactly how well the men knew each other. Though adopting a casual tone, the archmage still kept his hands raised as they continued to manipulate and orchestrate the ribbons of energy holding Lord Knightfall in the air. "I would have thought he'd be here with you; I guess he learned to keep his nose" well, somewhere else, at least." The man smiled behind his mask of shadow dragon hide.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Kristoph managed to out, before spitting at Dy"Hauc's feet " narrowly missing his true aim.

"That's no way to talk to an old friend," the mages tone became snide. Provocative. "It's not as if I'm going to kill you? directly. I just want to borrow something," Dy"Hauc's eyes settled upon Kristoph's brow, and then glanced to the sword held sheathed on his back. Justiciar. "The world cries out for it, you know. Unlike you, I'll simply' give them what they ask for?"

"You shouldn't be this powerful, not' in this now," Kristoph's eyes averted to the ground from Dy"Hauc, wincing and calculating even as the black ribbons of energy began to burn him on a metaphysical level.

"This now?" Dy"Hauc quipped, before softly gasping, amusement finding his eyes as their corners wrinkled into crows feet just barely noticeable given his concealment.

"This is your now" why ever would you think that it's not also' mine?" Kristoph's head shot upwards, his glare at Dy"Hauc furious, even poorly battered and becoming wan from the energy siphon. He spoke slowly, his tongue thick, "Conquer the past?" he trailed off.

"Control the future," Dy"Hauc finished, "yes. It was sweet of you to play along, coming to your brothers aid, out there?" he gestured, as some of the ribbons tightened further on Kristoph as that one hand maintained only a semblance of control over them, "Righting wrongs. How noble. How predictable. Goodbye, Lord Knightfall," a spike of pitch dark energy extended from the back of one of Dy"Hauc's forearms, "I'll be using your Myriad now" it won't kill you, though, you may wish it had. If you'd like," his tone becoming wry, "I'll stop in and tell Fiona that?"

He never finished his sentence, as Kaiden's shoulder suddenly found Dy"Hauc's side, spearing him, and sending them both sprawling; the young man's rushed entrance seemed miraculous, until closer examination: he'd become concerned over what was happening at the Cage and allowed himself to become sloppy. Something he was constantly harassed for working for the Company " allowing his personal relationships to influence his workplace demeanor.

Of course, for most people, life and death could not hang in the balance quite so immediately as they did for him. His body was riddled with cuts and punctures " and though his Myriad had initially fuelled him, he now felt merely normal, as its extra power went into stopping up wounds and keeping him mobile; even vampires were only able to ignore so many injuries " and if it wasn't for the Myriad he wouldn't even be a vampire at this point, he'd be a slab of useless meat on the ground.

As they fell, Kristoph too fell to the ground and quickly set about regaining his feet; Kaiden was less lucky, tangled in Dy"Hauc's robes initially, and then as soon as the archmage registered an attack" the black coils of energy that had initially held Kristoph. Kaiden's hands lashed out quickly to the sides, his fingers slipping on the grips of his fallen swords as he struggled to get a hold of them. Dy"Hauc had assumed a dominant position over him and Kaiden watched as his face jerked up to address Kristoph.

"Well, I guess he came instead" of Uncle Brend. You know, one Myriad is as good as another. Or even just the seed of one." His eyes flickered deliberately down to Kaiden, then back to Kristoph. Dy"Hauc's tone became dangerously saccharine as he asked, "He's never met his sister, has he?"

Kaiden's fingers finally slid around the hilts of his swords and he worked to wrestle them from the detritus they were trapped in " all the while watching the mage above him while his attention lay elsewhere. If only he could work himself free, Dy"Hauc would be gone from all their lives in only a few moments; Kaiden's blades would scissor together and his head would be gone from his shoulders.

"I think" It's time for a family reunion," Dy"Hauc spoke as Kaiden's blades jerked upwards" just a little too slowly. Dy"Hauc's fist found its mark beneath Kaiden's jaw, and the black energy spike that had been meant for Kristoph instead thrust directly into Kaiden's brain " and short circuited everything, burning his Myriad seedling out and taking the power into himself; to any watching it would have looked as if a mere punch in the mouth " save for the flash of black light that flared from his eyes and Myriad mark upon his brow. And with that, Kaiden was unceremoniously extinguished. Kristoph's scream cut the air even as he lurched forward while drawing Justiciar from his back, but it was too late.

Dy"Hauc surged into the air, out of arms reach, and his body began to make popping, sizzling sounds as he gasped at Kristoph below him, "This form' isn't enough to contain such a brilliant force" but' you gave me an idea" Lord Knightfall?" With that proclamation, Dy"Hauc's body seemed to grow and twist in fits and spurts " the dragon mask covered head subdividing itself into three pieces which began to adopt a draconic seeming. His limbs twisted and grew, reaching downward towards the man and his son's corpse " but Kristoph had gathered Kaiden in his arms and was running.

Darting between Dy"Hauc's descending limbs, Kristoph powered into the ruins that used to be the Cage, his brothers name a desperate and commanding roar, "Kaius?" Kristoph didn't have time to recoil at the sight which greeted him " the Knight of the White Rose, stretching a portal impossibly open. "Kaius! Let's go!"

The Sirrush started after Kristoph as he went, before his helmed head jerked upwards, watching the beast in the air over the ruins he now stood in. His head lilted to the side, analyzing the thing that Dy"Hauc was without fear. His eyes widened momentarily as the creatures three heads finally came down to bear upon his gateway " and Kaius leapt inside as three gouts of black flame collided on the gateway and wiped it from existence.



365.

"That's it?" Colt was the first of them to break the silence which followed the events they'd witnessed together. Brend's and Age's shot the youth looks of incredulity and annoyance, accordingly. To his credit, the youth had the frame of mind to color slightly before muttering, "Yeah, too soon. Got it."

Brend turned to Ages. "He did something to their gate, didn't he." It was a statement, not a question. Brend realized something had happened to it, if not exactly what.

"Ayup," Ages responded somewhat quiet, considering what he'd just watched; this most recent viewing being his third time seeing it. ?" the gate opened along a particular time/space axis," his lips drawing downwards into a frown of regret as he spoke, "that's why Azira wanted us out of the way' "early"."

Brend's eyebrows rose, "He," as suddenly as they rose, his brows came down sharply into a V, ?" changed how long it would take them' How long were they in there??" Growing concern painted his features now.

"Keep in mind," Ages softly explained, "that time does not exist where they were, inside the vacuole. But their perception of it would. For "us", it was as if they were gone 365 days, or 52 weeks, 12 months; however you want to break it down or divide it, they were gone for a mere 1 year. For us who waited here?"

"How long was it for them?" Brend demanded, wanting the answer yet possessed of a growing surety that he would not like it.

The corners of Ages eyes were pulled tight line of grief as he met Brend's, "As long as it took for him," he nodded towards Colt, "to become me. For them, there was no real passage of time, but it would have seemed like a lifetime."

A flash of silver blue light caught Brend's attention from the corner of his eye, and he looked away from Ages and Colt to see Kristoph stagger through a gateway holding a body, followed by the Sirrush " who's armor vanished upon entrance to the Nexus, leaving behind a very addled, though alive, Kaius in its place.

His attention snapped back with surprise to the two that he'd been speaking with " Ages and Colt " but found that he was alone. If they were ever here in the first place, he added silently in his head.

Glancing back to those who had come through the gateway, it was impossible not to see their arrival as bittersweet. "Welcome home,? he whispered softly, and went to help them.

~~~

I think it's great when stories are dark and strange and weirdly personal. - Robin Williams

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