Watch the Footage

The quiet crackling of the flames around her was, of course, by now quite a normal sound in the phoenix's mind, and thus gave her no discomfort, just as the familiar heat of her wings on her back failed to provoke in her mind any thought of fear or surprise, or even abnormality. To the farmers working in the fields outside of the town of Kingas, on the other hand, the sudden flash of light over the road that bordered on their workplace and the sudden roaring of surging fires above them was enough to drive them into a momentary panic. The phoenix grimaced slightly as she overheard the sounds of fearful shouting coming from over the ridge. She should have remembered that the seemingly empty fields and pastures would have at least some workers in them at this hour, even if their forms were obscured by the tall crops amidst which they toiled. And, of course, to run-of-the-mill peasants, the appearance of a phoenix, even one with a Human body, was probably not something they had ever expected to observe, nor was it a matter they'd easily be able to cope with.

Coming down to a gentle landing in the middle of the lane, and taking great care not to ignite the nearby crops, Mokou quickly folded her wings, banishing the flames that dwelt within her brightly colored red and white feathers as quickly as she could, not wanting to further startle the farmers. Sure enough, after the disappearance what to them must have looked like a wildfire from the heavens, just as sudden as its initial materialization, and once they were reasonably certain that they wouldn't be incinerated the moment that they came to investigate, a few nervous faces began to poke out from amidst the tall stalks of corn. Mokou smiled slightly, turning to these now rather confused individuals with an air of polite curiosity.

"I apologize. I didn't expect any h-..." Mokou cut herself off before she could say "Humans," but continued a moment later. "...people to be working here. The fields looked quite empty prior to my landing."

For a moment, silence reigned over the group of baffled peasants. They looked back and forth between each other and the new arrival with an air of bewilderment about them.

Well, Thought the phoenix. This is a rather awkward way to resume interactions with Human society after all these years.

"Er... Is the town a mile distant from here called 'Kingas,' by any chance? I find myself somewhat in need of directions at the moment, which is why I landed here."

One of the peasants nodded slightly, still too confused to offer a proper response.

Well, I'll take what I can get, Mokou thought, shrugging both her arms and her wings in a manner that, although rather comical to behold, came so instinctively to her that she didn't even notice the peasants' attention shifting to the extra - not to mention feathery - appendages now plainly visible on the unexpected arrival's back.

"Ah. Good. Thank you for your time. Then, if I might trouble you in one more matter, would you all please stand back? The result of my taking off is generally a rather fiery spectacle, and, although I can promise that your crops will not be harmed, I fear the heat might cause you some discomfort, especially on a warm day such as today."

Several stunned peasants later, and Mokou was soaring off towards Kingas.

.....

Suffice to say, Mokou's encounter with the field workers had been enough to remind her to be more careful when entering the city itself. Thanks to her ability to control the form which her feathers took, she had managed to hide her wings in the form of a two-tailed capelet which, while slightly conspicuous due to its bright coloring and odd texture, did not overtly draw attention to her nature. Admittedly, her twin feathered crests had been a little harder to conceal, but thankfully, she'd managed to solve that problem by simply adding a hood to her "capelet" and merging her feather crests with this seemingly decorative piece of headgear, hiding them, too, from view completely. This method was much less cumbersome, and, in fact, actually more reliable than the rather conspicuous hooded cloak she had used for the rendezvous at the Honey Bee. As it was, although a few people gave her odd looks - white and blue hair was still unusual, even if her feathers and wings couldn't be seen - few glanced more than once before resuming their business.

However, although Mokou had thankfully dealt with the problem of her nature, there was another, more pressing issue that she would need to manage somehow. Namely, the fact that, quite simply, Kingas was a much bigger city than she had expected.

How troublesome. Within the confines of such a bustling metropolis, it will be difficult for me to locate the others. I doubt the masked one will show himself willingly, while the alchemists, clockwork men, and that elf girl will likely be too busy resting and recuperating to search for either myself or that man. I had hoped to be able to discover something about the masked one's nature, but at this rate, I'll have to consider myself fortunate if I even run into the others again before I reach that 'Pardoner' person. The Phoenix sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, and at last gave up on what had been several hours of futile searching, seating herself on a small bench by the side of a stream running through the city and gazing silently down at the gently running water.

At least I have the bag of gold that goddess gave me. This much should last me for three weeks, at the very least, even without financial support from the others or a viable source of income. Unless monetary values have changed since the last time I was in a city such as this, that is. Even so, money shouldn't be a problem. I can do without food or shelter, and I can provide myself with as much clothing as I need using my feathers. Transportation will not be a problem either, which means that if I just eat only when absolutely necessary, I should be able to conserve both this money and my powers for as long as I have to. But, even so, attempting to fulfill this destiny by myself will be tactically unfeasible. The party of Jackals we encountered in that forest far exceeded expectations. If that is any indication as to the size of the average raiding party, I will need further assistance to eliminate the enemy. The Phoenix grimaced slightly, her grave countenance reflected back toward her from within the ripples of the stream's water. In any case, I will need to locate my allies immediately. But how? I suppose it would be fairly easy to get their attention. All I'd have to do is wait until nightfall, then summon my phoenix body in the sky over the city. But that would cause a mass panic... I'll have to avoid that plan, if at all possible. But then, how? In a city of this size, how can I locate a mere handful of people?

"It's no use," She murmured quietly, only to jolt upright a moment later when she heard not only her own voice speaking, but also another voice uttering the exact same words in chorus with herself. "Huh?" Mokou wondered aloud, her own wordless question echoed in exactly the same manner by the mysterious voice which she now determined was coming from approximately two feet to the left of her. Turning to face this mysterious speaker, she found herself looking straight at...

...A hat. A gigantic, broad-brimmed, round, and quite dramatically pointed black hat, which, although battered and worn by apparent years of use, held a certain sage-like dignity in its otherwise comical appearance that, even to an outcast from civilization, could be associated with only one profession: a wizard. Speaking of which, Mokou realized suddenly. Doesn't that mean that somebody is wearing the hat?

Indeed, someone was wearing the hat, although observing the person in question was much more difficult than one might have thought, given the man's slouched posture, small stature, and, of course, the absolutely enormous brim of his hat, which almost entirely concealed the rest of his body from view, such that it was nearly impossible to discern his features, aside from his bright red hair, which flowed in a long and tangled mass down past his shoulders, yet was even so only barely visible beneath the gigantic hat he wore. At the same time as she was inspecting this stranger, however, it seemed that he was also analyzing her. Although she couldn't see his face thanks to the giant wizard hat blocking it from view, however, it was quite evident that the young man had already begun to stare at her - if he could even see past the brim of his own hat, that is. Judging by the quivering of what was visible of his lower lip, it seemed like he was trying to say something, but a moment later, he shut his mouth tightly, stood up, and half walked, half ran down the river bank, before darting into an alley and disappearing from sight, leaving the rather confused phoenix staring after him, cocking her head curiously in the wake of the young man's flight.

How odd. Did he see through the illusory form of my feathers? I guess it's possible... I just hope he doesn't spread the word. It would be awkward to be chased from this city on the same day I arrive in it, even if it would put the others on the right track to finding me. In any case, there's no real point in sitting around here. I should stake out the city, and find where the most inns and shops are located. I'll at least have an idea of where to look for the others that way, at any rate, and I suppose that's better than nothing...

.....

Even if I say that though, I still might as well be doing nothing, The Phoenix realized, sighing for the thousand and first time that day as she found herself walking aimlessly down yet another street of bustling people, shouting shopkeepers, brightly colored stalls, and general cacophony, none of which were what she was looking for.

Ah, Humanity, The Phoenix mused, rubbing her aching head as the sounds of the city continued their relentless pounding upon her eardrums. A miserable pile of noise and business. I miss the forest. At least it was quiet there.

"COME ONE, COME ALL, TO SEE THE GREATEST MAGIC SHOW OF THE CENTURY!" Shouted a nearby town crier, helping Mokou's headache none, but driving home her frustration perfectly. She grimaced, turning and immediately heading in the opposite direction as the shouts of the overly bombastic announcer continued to bury themselves in her pointed ears, which had long since begun to twitch nigh uncontrollably from the noise - in perfect timing with her eye, she might have added, had she not been too preoccupied trying to control her growing aneurysm. "TICKETS FOR THE FINAL ACT OF THE GREAT BLACK PHANTOM'S LEGENDARY TRAVELING MAGIC SHOW ARE NOW ON SALE! AND, FOR ONCE IN A LIFETIME, YOU - YES, YOU! - MAY JOIN IN THE BLACK PHANTOM'S MAGNUM OPUS PERFORMANCE AS HIS ASSISTANT, AND BE REWARDED WITH THE PHANTOM'S RAREST, 100% AUTHENTIC AND ABSOLUTELY ONE-OF-A-KIND GRIMOIRE, PENNED AND ANNOTATED BY NONE OTHER THAN A CHOSEN HERO SPOKEN OF IN THE LEGENDS!"

Well, the noise had already had Mokou's attention, so she couldn't exactly say that it had been this remark that had attracted her notice. On the other hand, what had been a mere annoyance an instant before had suddenly become something very noteworthy indeed.

The original Mokou - the elf whose resurrected body served as a vessel for both of the current Mokou's inexorably fused existences - had been an almost obsessive collector of any magical texts or trinkets she could get her hands on. In the name of gaining power, she had amassed any enchanted object, any arcane manuscript, and any magically conducive flora or fauna she could possibly find. And, even after her first death and resurrection, that magpie-like fixation had remained constant. Consequently, it was very little surprise that Mokou suddenly found herself slipping as best she could through the crowds, stepping up right in front of the crier, her hand already extended and her gaze fixated on the stack of parchments he held, handing them out liberally to any passers-by who came near enough.

"Might I have one?" Mokou asked calmly, her previous irritation all but forgotten.

"Why certainly, ma'am!" The enthusiastic man declared, handing her the flier without delay. Taking it and giving a nod and quiet word of thanks, Mokou immediately found herself slipping back into the bustling city crowd, already making her way back towards the quiet riverbank where she might with more focus weigh her options in light of this new discovery. As she walked, however, she glanced down at the paper in her hands, and raised an eyebrow slightly, for serving as the centerpiece for the advertisement was a portrait, drawn in exquisite detail, of a rather familiar individual, wearing an even more familiar hat.

It's that boy from earlier...? Thought the phoenix curiously. Huh. Small world, I guess.

(To be continued...)

Mark of a Hero

It had been quite an eventful day for me. It had taken us a while but the clockwork man and I had finally managed to make it to Kingas. However we got separated somewhere in the city. Once I realized this I simply sighed and continued on, with any luck I would run into everyone else when I reached the High Lord Pardoner. However at the moment I had a much more pressing matter to attend to.

I needed some new clothes, healing and some food.

So I went to the town square because that is the best place in any town to get everything you need. There was a small girl crying in the center of town. However I figured she had just lost her mother temporarily or something, so I paid her no mind. When I came back from a little recovery she was still there. When I had gotten some food she was still there and I was starting to get worried but I was sure someone would help her soon. I went and got clothes to replace my damaged suit. A much more practical outfit with thinker pants a clean shirt, solid boots and a nice leather duster. When I returned to the square she was still there. I began to leave I had a job to do, an important quest, the end of the world.

But dammit I couldn't just leave her. I had already done something similar once, never again.

I began to walk over to her when one of the towns folk stopped me.

“We already tried talking to her, she won't stop crying. Things will probably be better off if we just let the constable take her home.”

“Probably.....” I replied, my voice trailing off. I pushed the woman aside and walked over anyway. The girl was sitting on the edge of the fountain, crying her eyes out. At first I tried speaking gently to her but she just kept crying. Eventually I had to resort to a trick. I pulled a tiny crystal out of one of my pockets and made it change it's shape in my hand. Eventually the girl managed to calm herself down, even if she still had some sniffles.

I smiled at the girl (with my mouth closed, I didn't want to scare her with the pointed teeth.) “So What's your name?”
“Bray.”
“Thats a lovely name. Why don't you tell me whats wrong?”
“My Da-hic, My Daddy got pulled off to that building by some men.”
“Were they nice men?”
She shook her head.

Well then there was really only one thing to do. I smiled at her again.
“Wait here, I'll be back with your dad soon.”
She nodded her eyes wide. Then I turned and walked off to the structure.

After a little bit of looking I found a man pinned up against an alley wall by one thug while a ring of thugs surrounded them. At the farthest point from the victim stood two elven woman one in red with steel blades attached to her wrists and another in white with blades on her boots. Well it was fairly clear what was going on here.

It was time for some alchemy but I couldn't use explosions or fire with how close the man was to my targets, I had to be delicate. I hate delicate.

I sighed and put my hand to the ground and transmuted some of the cobblestone in the alley into water, not enough to be dangerous in anyway but enough to wash over their feet and get the criminal's attention. They looked over/

“If you would kindly release that man, I would much appreciate it.”
“Melanie who is this?” The one in red asked.
“I don't know Milltia, but it isn’t our problem. Thats what we have minions for, Get him.” The one in white replied before gesturing to her men.

The about 5 of the men charged me with various weapons while the other half stayed back and took up firing positions. I snorted, what idiots. If they had brains in their heads the gunman would have shot before the fighters charged in. Still this wasn’t a threat I could just ignore and even with a low-level healing and some food I was still running low on power from the fight with the Jackals. I had to make my remaining power count.

My first move was to sweep my scythe low across the ground, unfortunately only one of the thugs was caught in the attack and his friends forced me back before I could finish him off. I breathed fire at the next one up.

But I got nothing but smoke. This was just getting worse by the minute. The next one came at me with an axe, which I knocked away before knocking him soundly across the head. He crumpled and the was an opening, I saw the gunmen preparing to fire. I jumped as far as I could to the side. Luckily I wasn’t hit but neither were the other thugs and now I was up against a wall. A dwarf thrust at me with a sword, I use a transmutation to change the steel to tin, which deformed against the wall. I replied with a slash across the chest. The last two a clockwork and a human both came at me. I turned the water into steam surprising them. I could feel my strength fading fast but I was able to throw the clockwork on top of the human before slamming my scythe through them, wounding both.

The gunman were preparing another firing line, however I was out of patience and threw the last of my explosives amongst their midst, taking them out in one fel swoop. The man ran behind me thanking me profusely.

Melanie sighed. “What a pin, Milltia lets teach him the price of messing with us.”
“And who are you again?” I asked
“We're the Denaria sisters.” Milltia said in a tone which implied that they were important.
I shook my head. “Nope never heard of you.”

The two shifted into fighting stances. I held up my hand before planting my scythe, taking off my coat and handing it to the man to hold before taking my scythe and preparing to battle.

However then I heard a voice behind me. “What's going on back here? “ I turned to see the constable approaching rapidly, Bray at his side smiling happily. The sisters ran for the hills while the man explained to the constable what happened.

He then walked back over to me when the constable had left, handing my coat back.
“Thank you my name is Ducan Castus, I'm a merchant of some repute, I must insist that you take this.” he said before handing me a small token, “It will grant you a moderate discount with many merchants if you show it to them.”
“I-er- I don-” I stuttered at the father and daughter grinning like idiots at me, I broke. “Okay fine, do you mind telling what that was about.”
The father's smile faded. “I owed them a money, As you can guess normally this wouldn't be a problem but Bray needed the most powerful healing possible. When the sisters came calling my money was all tied up in other places.”

I nodded. “Perhaps its best if you leave town, before they come back for you.” Duncan nodded before taking Bray by the hand and leaving.
The little girl turned and smiled at me. “Bye Uncle Goblin, thanks for saving Daddy.” I smiled and waved until I lost sight of the two.

It was funny before this quest I was sad about the fact that I only had any skill at battle alchemy, I had wanted to help mankind but because of my lack of talent in a lab setting I had been unsuccessful. But in this case, I was glad for my gift.

I set off to find the High Lord Pardoner and my allies. I needed to let them know about our new enemies.

Not for the first time since the day had began so strangely, Eslai cursed the unicorn-riding elf. After she took May and rode off, the clockwork had tried to run after her, but either the stupid elf was plainly an idiot, or his servos, while being able to continue for a long time, had not the speed to catch up and after a minute, he gave up and hissed a puff of frustrated steam.

Well, now he was in Kingas and somehow he'd gotten separated from the goblin whose name he didn't even know and here he was, a stranger in a strange land, all alone, not even knowing what he was supposed to do. This was turning out to be such a brilliant day.

Idly strolling down the town square, and ignoring a small girl who sat half-weeping as if waiting for someone to come back, his auto-senses whirred and clicked. Even adjusting for the hubbub of a busy market, there was something incongruous down the street, a gathering that didn't seem intent on merely purchasing.

The people were gathered in front of a.. a mechanics shop, which sold replacement parts for clockworks. Several metres away, Eslai could feel the hate and violence gathered in the mob. Any moment, they might explode. Then a man in black spoke and his mechanical body went rigid.

"Clockwork, they call themselves, clockwork. What does that tell us? Mechanical, inhumane, nothing but soulless machines! They have no emotion, have no heart, only crooked metal and black furnaces that burn to keep them in this unnatural state of undeath. They are an abomination upon our land," the man robed in black paused, then continued with obvious relish, "they are a sin against our lady Lumeria, praise her name!"

For several agonising moments, Eslai couldn't react, could not respond; his entire body had seized up instinctively with disgust and a righteous revulsion, much the same as when Strider had appeared at the Honey Bee. The goddess' mark on his hand flared brightly and he struggled to regain control. Barely able to help himself, Eslai boldly stepped up to the crowd.

Shouting loudly, he said, "Yes, yes, it's all true!"

The crowd's attention shot towards him and the man clad in black narrowed his eyes. Ignoring him, Eslai continued.

"They took my body apart and gave me this," he waggled his onyx arms and indicated his steel body, "and they took my heart and my soul, they stripped me down." Putting a hand to his head, Eslai acted as though he were about to faint and sobbed exaggeratedly. "Ah, the beasts, the monsters, I have no soul now, alas, alas! Please, for me, for all of us, take vengeance!"

The robed man stepped through the darkly murmuring crowd, an expression of unease flitting across his face before turning into one of benevolent grace. He laid a hand on Eslai's shoulder.

"Ah, one of our lost sheep. See how he confesses, see how he yearns for vengeance and release! Truly, this is one repentant, this is one who wishes to be reunited with our Lady of Light." Leaning forward, the man softly uttered a susurrant string of sibilant, insidious syllables. Eslai felt a dark power creep into his non-existent veins, feeling his non-existent heart clench into the cold silence of the grave.

Blue light flashed brightly from his hand and Eslai swung with all his mechanised strength, slamming the man's face with a satisfying crunch. The man in robes staggered back, mucous blood oozing from between his hands as he clutched at his broken nose.

"Fuck you, asshole!" In a moment, Eslai held two pistols in his metal hands, aiming them at the robed man. Raising a hand to show the emblem, he blared through his speakers, "I'm with the Lady, mangy bastard! He just tried to hex me, but by the Lady, I didn't fight my way past a hundred Jackals to be put down by the likes of you! He's not one of the Lady's; the Lady's own would never use dark magic like that. Who the fuck are you, jackass?"

"The clockwork lies!" The man retorted muffled through his hands. "He attacked me; what are you waiting for?"

Trickling fear crept across Eslai's spine and seized him like a pouncing beast; the crowd wasn't happy. Not happy at all.

The joints and mechanisms inside the lower half of Julian's face whirred as they shifted into an expression approximating a human frown. From his perch atop an enormous smokestack- oddly devoid of fumes from the factory it was attached to- he adjusted his optics' magnification once more, and the indistinct blob of color in the bottom left corner of his vision expanded and resolved itself into an enormous mob of a multitude of races, many waving picket signs, all of them chanting fervently.

Yes, I see it, he transmitted to the Timekeeper at his side. Plenty of anti-clockwork sentiment, yes, but they don't look hostile quite yet.

William-629 grunted. Yet being the operative word in this case. The human male in the black robe who's leading the crowd- according to what we've managed to uncover about his history thus far, he's very likely a demon cultist and anarchist. It's quite possible that under his influence, this particular protest could turn into a full-fledged riot.

Julian resisted the urge to flash his superior a wry grin. You'd think the local police would try to keep them in check or something.

All active Kingas police have been folded into the city guard, 914, William reminded the younger agent. For that matter, all active Timekeeper agents stationed here are assisting as well- from the shadows for the time being, but Command says they're actually considering allowing operatives to work in public, what with the Jackals returning. That's why I'm asking you to help- you're only passing through, so I might as well make use of you while you're still in the area.

You're too kind. So, they didn't deputize anyone?

Oh, there's a few deputies, all right. Zoom in a little closer on the mob- you'll be able to make them out quite easily.

Julian's frown deepened. And suddenly I'm extremely tempted to leave my cloak on until I leave the city.

Perceptive as usual, 914. William paused, then noted, Incidentally, I bet that fellow with the modified Ascraeus model down there probably wishes he had a cloak himself.

...wait, Ascraeus body type? Julian shifted his gaze slightly to the left, and was promptly greeted by the sight of one of his travelling companions picking a fight with the demon cultist. Well, I do believe that's Eslai. Figures he'd get himself into a mess like that.

William nodded. Having read your report, I had a feeling you'd say that. Might want to get going now; the rest of the crowd might be inclined to follow your friend's example and turn violent.

Hold on, hold on. If my "friend" wants me to pull him out, I might as well get an explanation why I need to in the first place. That said, Julian switched from the Timekeepers' private communication frequency to a more publicly accessible one and opened a channel to Eslai. All right, buddy, you've got ten seconds to explain to me exactly what in the world you're doing picking fights with a demon-cultist and his pet mob. Get to it.

All right, buddy, you've got ten seconds to explain to me exactly what in the world you're doing picking fights with a demon-cultist and his pet mob. Get to it.

The instant Eslai registered the other clockwork's demand, he swore out loud in a grinding crash of binaric hash. He realised his mistake an instant later; an angry mob primed to swarm you might take a demonic-sounding burst of incomprehensible crackle as a hostile gesture and perhaps, if you were lucky enough, they might even begin to assault you with whatever they had.

Today was Eslai's lucky day.

While their bare hands and fists simply bounced off his frame without any damage, putting pressure on his joints in the wrong direction might very well lead him to be incapacitated and Eslai tried to move. His servos whined in protest against the press of flesh about him and he began to have serious doubts about his ability to get away without harming anyone.

"Stand clear or I'll vent!" He cried, but his appeal was lost over the noise of the multitude. Mentally, Eslai shrugged. It wasn't as if he'd really expected them to move away. The mob was now grabbing his arms and legs and trying to pin him down. With a thought, the clockwork locked his joints in position, then turned off his hearing. It was eerie, to see people yelling with flecks of spittle flying at his optics, a seething mass of humanity struggling against him.

It was even more eerie when they began to release him and clap their hands around their ears instead, dropping to their knees in pain. Somewhere in the whirring datawheels of Eslai's cogitators, there was a shred of pity. Those closest to him even had dark red blood drooling from their ears in thick globs, and Eslai shut off the siren shriek he'd been playing at insanely high volumes through his vocal broadcasters, then restored his hearing. Taking advantage of the fact that just about everyone about him was either still clutching their ears- temporarily deaf, more than likely- or clutching their bleeding ears, Eslai stepped over the mob and ever so carefully extricated himself.

"Goddess damn you.. damn you.." Eslai heard a man weep as he left. The clockwork froze, then glanced at the man.

"She will forgive me, even if you don't. For what it's worth, I'm sorry it came to this."

The man, still half-deaf, didn't hear him and continued sobbing into the ground. Now, where had that cultist gone to? A quick scan had revealed that he wasn't in the crowd anymore, but where was he?

Suffice to say, it wasn't long before Mokou made up her mind. The decision she made, of course, was the obvious, and the expected one, given her options. On the one hand, participating in the so-called Black Phantom's magic show would mean abandoning her search for her fated allies, and, additionally, could mean delaying so long that they might leave Kingas before she found them. But, on the other hand, she still knew their destination, and could likely travel faster on her own than a whole party loaded with luggage and largely incapable of flight. Furthermore, her search for her allies had been fruitless thus far, and there was no indication that she'd be able to locate any of them within a city of this size. As she had already come to realize, the best way to be found would be to participate in some sort of notable event, calling attention to herself to draw her comrades to her, rather than looking for them. And, was not a widely advertised show of magic and illusions just such an occurrence? With her unique nature, it would be easy for her to fulfill whatever was required of her as the magician's assistant. And, best of all, succeeding at this would mean acquiring a book of spells written by one of the legendary heroes of old, which would doubtless contain specialized means of eradicating Jackals despite their ability to adapt to and resist her phoenix flames.

So, in the end, the Phoenix found herself walking silently up the stairs of a prestigious inn, the Laughing Lion, towards the very top of the establishment, where the very largest and most luxurious rooms had all been rented out by the magician himself, and was currently serving the role of a sitting room for interviews with prospective assistants, such as herself. However, to her surprise, there didn't seem to be anyone other than Mokou on the fourth floor, where the magician's suite was located. Perhaps nobody else had applied? No, judging by the interest amidst the crowd she had seen, there must have been others attempting to land the job. Then... had they all been turned away? She supposed it made sense, thinking about it.

In order for a magic show to hold any appeal, a specific type of performer and a corresponding audience were both required. In the end, such performances fell under four main strategies: Deception, Bedazzlement, Illusions, and True Magic.

The first strategy, Deception, relied on the ignorance of both the so-called magician and his audience. If neither party held any genuine knowledge of the arcane, then any sufficiently convincing trick of the eye could be passed off as magic.

Bedazzlement, meanwhile, relied on the magician's knowledge of actual magic, using simple yet awe-striking feats of spellwork to amaze his audience.

Illusions, on the other hand, were the most difficult type of magic exhibition, as for this strategy to work, one needed the capability not only to fool those without knowledge of the arcane into believing that what they were witnessing was genuine magic, but also the power to befuddle even those who could understand that the display was not actual magic, so that even these experts could not discover the truth behind the tricks being displayed.

True Magic, meanwhile, was more like a demonstration on the arcane than an actual magic show, with a skilled wizard showing his prowess before his peers. In this sort of show, no deception was needed: both the performer and his audience could understand the workings of everything that occurred, and need not question it.

In such a city as this one, large, but without any notable colleges of magic, it seemed unlikely to Mokou that a show of True Magic was what she was walking into, as the audience would likely be unable to comprehend the true magnitude of what they were witnessing. And yet, the other applicants seemed to have all been turned away... The only reason the Phoenix could find for that was that the show would require at least some knowledge of actual magic, which meant that the show would revolve around dazzling the audience. Of course, given that the magus responsible for this show was evidently in possession of a rare and powerful spellbook, Mokou had already expected that the show would be one of true arcane prowess rather than magicless illusions, so this deduction hardly surprised her. Furthermore, the confirmation of her suspicions actually reassured her. As she had already gathered, the town of Kingas did not seem to be home to any significant knowledge of magic. That meant that she, who was capable of wielding spells without difficulty, would almost certainly be the most capable applicant for the position - a fact that was all the more fortuitous for her.

Feeling rather confident, then, Mokou knocked thrice on the door, almost immediately hearing heavy but measured footsteps in the room beyond it. With a quiet creak, the door opened after a few moments, swinging outward into the hallway. As such, it momentarily obscured the one behind it. However, a moment later, the individual she had expected came into view. A tall, lean man with bright red hair, wearing an oversized, broad-brimmed hat that covered most of his face. Unlike the time on the riverbank, however, this time the wizard wore his rather unusual choice of headgear somewhat lopsided, causing the brim to only hang down on one side, allowing Mokou to make out a great deal more of his face than she had in their previous momentary encounter. His eyes were a bright green shade, forming a rather striking and most certainly distinctive combination with his fiery hair. Furthermore, he looked somewhat older than she had been expecting - she'd have placed him as an adolescent from their previous encounter, but looking at his face now, he seemed more like a man of at least twenty years. Taking in all these things, the phoenix raised an eyebrow slightly beneath her "hood."

He's taller than before. Not just that... I'm sure his face is different. Then... if this is the Black Phantom, who was it that I saw on the riverbank?

"Good afternoon," The Magician said, smiling sardonically. "I take it that you're here to interview for the position as my assistant?"

"Ah. Yes," The Phoenix replied, giving a slight nod as she returned her focus to the present. "My name is Mokou Suzaku. I saw the advertisements, and, being greatly interested in the arcane, I thought I'd give the job a try."

"Oh? A fellow magic enthusiast?" The man gave a slight chuckle. "You wouldn't believe how rare that is in this city. All day, I've gotten everything from performers to book collectors, but none of them have known the first thing about magic. In that case, you're more than welcome. Come in, and make yourself comfortable."

The Phoenix smiled, forgetting her earlier observations for a moment as she entered the room and prepared for the interview. It seemed things were going just as she had expected. But, thinking back, she couldn't help but notice that it seemed very odd. The man's features were similar enough to the person she'd met on the riverbank to make her want to identify them as the same person, but at the same time, there were several glaring differences, in stature, countenance, and now even in demeanor. The one on the riverbank had run away without saying a word, but now the Black Phantom seemed cordial, cheerful, and confident. And, on top of that, he hadn't seemed to have recognized her from before.

Something was strange about all of this, and, although it didn't really concern her, Mokou couldn't help but want to find out what...

If there was one thing in this world that Procyon hated above all else, it was people. Ignorant, stupid, mindless mobs of people everywhere. It was also what he found himself walking through as he entered the city of Kingas. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself from tearing the fools who jostled him from every side limb from limb and then stringing them up from some building nearby as an example. Perhaps then he would get the respect and fear due to a dragon.

Even more aggravating than the people who strode quickly on were those who did take the time to glance up towards him. Invariably they made an absolutely disgusting expression of shock and spent the next five minutes staring towards him until he was out of sight. A group of kids even followed him for three blocks before their mother found them. Lucky for them too, as Procyon had just about been ready to light them aflame to teach them the consequences of bothering a dragon.

"Judging from all previous encounters, the worthless excuses for sentience that I'm supposed to be working with shouldn't be hard to find." A dwarf walking down the street in front of him was taking his sweet time, so without a second thought, Procyon grabbed him by the matted blond hair hanging out from beneath his helmet and, ignoring a loud yelp of pain, bodily threw him to the side where the diminutive being crashed into a wagon parked on the roadside, filled with produce. The dragon derived great amusement from the way that the dwarf, during his flight and landing, began cursing violently, only to whirl around toward his attacker and meet a golden eye staring back down at him. The stream of vitriol suddenly turned to pure silence as the dwarf gulped quietly. Saying nothing, Procyon turned away, satisfied that his lesson was taught, ignoring the man in the cloth of a merchant who ran towards his cart, which had spilled its contents onto the road. "Their imbecilic intellects won't allow them to get very far without getting themselves caught up in some inane encounter which I'm sure they will only manage to make worse with their very existence. Well then, all I have to do is look for something spiraling into chaos and I've found them."

Exiting the rather large street he had been traveling on since he had entered the town, Procyon strode into a large square, packed with people moving this way and that between various market stalls dotted about the edges of the open area. However, as he walked in, the stream of curses behind him and his terrifying appearance split the confused crowd before him like water. Amusement filled the dragon's mind as he looked at the fear and confusion on the faces around him. There really was no better feeling than eliciting that response which was his due.

"Hey, you!" Procyon ignored the shout that came from behind him. Either it didn't concern him, and he didn't care, or it did, and he still didn't care, and if whoever was shouting at him didn't deduce that fast, then the dragon was going to get to kill someone today after all.

The whistle of something sharp and metal slicing through the air behind him suddenly reached Procyon's ears, and at the last possible moment, he instinctively jerked his head to the side, barley avoiding a thrown blade that slammed into a vendor's stall, sending its owner screaming in a very un-masculine way and ducking for cover. A thick silence oppressed the square, as all around those people unfortunate enough to be nearby Procyon began to backpedal without knowing why, driven by some primal sense tuned in on danger. Slowly, very slowly, Procyon turned, and focused his single eye on the face of a man sitting on the ground and leaning his back against the central fountain, a hat filled with gold coins to his left, and a katana in its sheath to his right.

"I said 'Hey'."

Miraculously, Chris managed to outrun the hell that had been unleashed by the other heroes in the place that was once a forest. She now could only hope not every fight they got in would end up like that one. "Who am I trying to kid? They all will end like this, won't they?" She managed to catch a glimpse of one of the other heroes leaving ground zero, and she followed the distant mirage until it disappeared from her view, but by this moment she could already see both the city of Kingas and the sun on the horizon, both rising themselves above the land as two obelisks, one representing the skill of men and the other the might of gods.

She eventually arrived at the town, worn out by the travel. "I could use some rest right now. In fact... With the gold that goddess gave me, I will do exactly that!" Christine set off, looking for an inn where she could rest. Not any inn, mind you, the most expensive one she could find. That is what the archer was doing when she noticed something unusual. A large tavern, four stories tall, with a vast bar, who was crowded. The reason of such could be seen in a large poster that was hanging above the door: "Drinking Contest! TODAY!", that also described the prize for said contest being a large amount of cash, followed by meals and rooms for the night. "If I'm going to spend my night well, I may do it for free, right? And if I don't win, at least I'll drink for free." Chris chuckled at herself and entered the tavern, not even caring for reading the place's name.

From inside, she could attest the tavern was even more crowded than it seemed from outside. Surprisingly, a small line of people had formed, subscribing themselves at the competition. Most of the people inside either should have subscribed already, or just went there to drink and watch the competition itself, she concluded. Still, from where she came from, most people who entered this kind of competition did so for the free beer. "It must have some kind of entry fee or whatever." Chris assured herself. The archer entered the line, and after a few minutes, it finnally was her turn. "So, I'm here to subscribe for the contest."

The man stared her down and replied. "Okay then, write down your and your partner's names on the respective duties, and pay the entry fee."

"Duties?" She replied confused.

"Yes." He rolled his eyes. "Look, this contest is to be entered by duos. One will have to drink mugs of Raven Lag until he passes out, and the other will have to make a drink. The duo that stands out best wins. Is that so hard, really?"

"Oh... Ok, then sorry." She left, and wandered to the corner of the pub. There she sat on a stool and ordered a drink. "Well, damnit, there goes the chance of winning a free place to stay and free ale. Unless... I can't be the only one alone here, there must be someone here without a duo to enter the contest." She waited until a waitress brought her drink, and then started wandering around the room. It wasn't long until she found a short human man, so short one could confuse him with a dwarf, carrying a way too large backpack. "Hey," - Christine called, and he turned to her - "are you alone?"

The man blushed and smiled ankwardly. "Yes."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, in regards to the contest."

He blushed even more. "Oh, umh... Right. Also yes. My partner got sick, so I couldn't join in. I decided to stay and watch then."

"I'm guessing you were going for the drink brewing contest, right? May I have a taste of your drink?" She asked.

"Oh, right." He took off his backpack, and from inside it a bottle filled with a dark brown liquid. Chris took it out of his hand and finished it in two chugs. "You... You drank it all!"

"Yes, I did." She cleaned her mouth with her hand and handed him back the bottle. "I guess it's good enough. Do you still wanna get in the contest?"

"Yes." He nodded at her.

"Good. Then go there and subscribe. I'll be resting over there." She pointed to the corner where she was sitting before. "Wake me up when it's time. I need to rest." The archer left and started walking her way through a bunch of bohemians, who were already drunk this time of the morning.

"Wait!" The man called. "I don't know your name!"

"Christine McUlrist." She replied.

Alina placed the candles carefully around the human, lighting each one with a breath to place wards around the girl. If the Fates decreed that she was not to die, then Alina would serve their will by protecting her, for now.

She settled herself a short distance away from the sleeping woman and began a meditation cycle, focusing on the crystal she wore around her neck as it began to glow. She was sure that her heroic companions would be exploring the city of Kingas. That was their choice. She had more important things to do.

May jerked awake, memories of the monsters and the blood painting her dreams like a restless balm. Gasping, she straightened, one of her legs tapping the edge of the ward. “Alina? What happened? Why was…. Did you ward me? What in the Goddess did I do?!”

“You foolishly defied the Fates, almost getting yourself killed before your Time,” the albino answered calmly. “Please don’t disrupt the circle or you’ll risk flouting your Fate again, and please be silent so that I may meditate.”
“Cowshit.” May glowered at the mention of the Fates. “They did me no favors, why shouldn’t I defy them? And anyway I’m starving, so I can’t very well sit here quietly for eternity.” Bending, May strained to summon some power, gasping from the exertion as the ward stubbornly retained it’s protection.

“Please use purer language,” the elf requested. “I don’t intend for you to die before your time; I can have food brought to you inside the circle until it’s safe for you to leave.”

“And when, by the Goddess’ pure name will you deem it okay for me to leave your... loving care?”

“When the Fates decree that you may risk your life,” she answered serenely.

“The same Fates that just tried to kill me? They seem finicky to me. Are you sure you’re not just chasing a mad unicorn, elf?” May growled, pacing around the boundary.

“The Fates don’t act, you silly girl. They have no physical presence in this world. Your would-be death was an untimely one; do you truly think I would have broken Their will in saving you if it had been decreed?”

“Whatever. Can I please have something to eat? Else I’m afraid your benevolent act will have been wasted.”

Rolling her eyes, Alina nodded to an oilskin-wrapped packet inside the circle.

Stomach growling ravenously, May leapt at the package. The delicate packaging was barely off the sandwich before May took an enormous bite, all but inhaling the elven-made meal. Finishing the remains of the sandwich, May faced the barrier once more. Summoning all of her available skill, she strained to unlock the seal.

After several minutes of quiet battle, May released the counter-spell, and turned to face the meditating elf once more, “D’you think I could have another?”

“Do you think you could be quiet?” Alina asked in return. “You don’t need more than that right now. It would be excessive.”

“I don’t think being quiet would be acceptable. Not in my current state, no. Oh the pain! The absolute hunger! It’s terrible! If only I could get some food. A morsel, a cookie, a ‘steak. I’m not picky! Will anyone hear my plea?!” May yelled melodramatically, clutching her stomach and collapsing on the ground.

Sighing, Alina left the room, shutting the door conscientiously behind her, and took up her meditation pose once again where the noise was less disruptive.

Grimacing at the elf’s disappearing back, May stuck out her tongue, waiting for a few moments in silence. Before deciding to try to break the circle with alchemy once more. The lock wouldn’t budge, however much effort or skill May used to open it. and yelling at the top of her lungs only seemed to send her caring captor away. Grumbling, May decided to try and ram the bubble, stepping back as far as the barrier would allow. Restraining a yell, May sprinted for the other side of the circle, tripping over several candles and tumbling to a halt outside of the light mage’s ward.

Letting out a small whoop of excitement, May sprinted for the door, bursting it open. Seeing the startled mage, she waved and left the Inn.

Alina glanced up and stood, somewhat out of temper. With a flick of her wrist she called the light from the candles back into her, then stalked over to gather up the candles and put them away. Then she followed to where May had gone, focussing mentally on the pulsing beam of life that was the human girl.

“This is childish,” she reprimanded, coming to a stop about half a foot behind May’s left shoulder. The girl was wholly focused on a second sandwich, consuming it in five bites. She winced at the sound of the self-righteous elf’s voice.

“Ah, come on. I can take care of myself. Besides, you expected me to live off that one sandwich? Are you mad?” May waved for the waiter to bring two more sandwiches. “Would you like one? I owe you, anyway.”

“It isn’t healthy to overeat,” Alina told her primly. “Yet another way to call an unfated end upon you.”

Mouth full, May paused for a moment, then swallowed. “You have absolutely no understanding of alchemy, do you?”

The elf-girl waved a hand dismissively. “Playing around with silly toys hardly concerns me one way or another.”

May looked hurt for a moment, then began laughing loudly. “You-You, giggle You actually think we play with toys? Truly, for one so wise, your scope is small.”

“Why study a path different than the one my Fate lays out for me? It wouldn’t simply be a waste; it would be a pointless act of rebellion. Now, you should get back to the inn and my wards now that you’ve satisfied your senseless gluttony.”

Face serious, May faced the elf. “I just likely saved your life and my own with my ‘gluttony’. You would do well to remember that I can use a magic of my own, however different from yours, witch.” Stretching, May stood, and began walking towards the marketplace. “Besides, I have a business venture to pursue. You can stay with your silly toys, if you like. I’m going to go do something worthwhile.”

“Your terminology is incorrect and you are following paths unrelated to our joint fates, rendering them by definition wastes and potential hazards to you. As I cannot risk my own destiny being tainted by your death, so long as we are bound up together, you force me to follow you for these inanities to protect you, since you clearly have no hope of protecting yourself. You would be wiser to have remained in my circle.” She spoke the sanctimonious speech with a small, half-friendly smile on her face, as though she genuinely didn’t understand that her words sounded designed to cause offense.

May ignored the elf, choosing instead to approach a tiny, rat-faced man that stood on the corner of one of the busiest streets in the market. “You said you needed a guard?”

The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You forgot to mention how scrawny you were. Have anyone else with you? I do need to stay alive through all of this, you know.”

“Do you?” asked Alina, almost dreamily.

The man twitched, and almost jumped. “Who’s she? You never said anything about a partner!”

“Do you want me to save you and your jackal-bitten hide, Robert? Or shall I leave you to whatever monsters you seem to have awoken in your idiocy?” May growled, irritated at the persistent elf. “She’s with me. You’ll be okay as long as you don’t cross any Fates or something.”

Nodding, the tiny gangster began to explain his plan, “There’s a new item in the Market. Something big. I want to snatch it before The Sisters can. They don’t like the experiments I’m running, and want to make sure I don’t progress any further.”

“What’s in it for me and my… friend?” May asked gruffly.

“I’ll… I’ll let you in on my new recipe.” Seeing May’s contempt, he added. “And access to my store of talismans, anything you like. I just need to get. to. that. flower.”

Eying both humans witheringly, Alina lifted a hand and raised a huge glowing white barrier around the three of them.

The man half-choked. “Don’t you think that’s going to attract some unwanted attention?” he demanded.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Alina replied loftily, “so long as it protects you on your way to get your little flower.” She nodded once, as though signalling them to get a move on.

“Alina. Are you trying to get every bounty hunter from here to the capitol to come for our asses? Or is this just you pushing me and my associate on our fated paths?” May said sarcastically.

“I’m not particularly concerned who shows up,” she answered in a bored voice; “they won’t be able to penetrate my barrier. It’s just the most efficient way to facilitate your stupid self-chosen mission.”

“You really are blockheaded, you know that?” May said, walking down the busy street, glowing gangster in tow. “I guess it’s time to find that damn flower.”

-----

Alina walked a few paces behind the other two, totally disregarding them. She was lost in thought, when… something approached her barrier. In some ways, its life felt like the very angry, reticent member of her fated companions, only less… broken, less wrong. And a much different shape. The creature scraped at her barrier with its claws; the walls of light buckled under his attack, but held.

”What are you doing, elf?” a dark voice hissed. ”The man is mine. You have no purpose in protecting him.”

“While he’s travelling with my companion, I will protect him, nonetheless.” Alina mentally shoved the words at the interloper, rather than speak them aloud.

”You are a fool. Will you continue to protect him once this charade is done? Once your friend and he part company, will you watch him still?”

“No.”

”Then you admit his life is forfeit. Break your foolish barrier and let me take my mark.”

It wouldn’t have worked if he had been expecting it; the dragon was strong. As it was, though, he expected the small albino girl to continue the conversation, not to take her barrier and twist it, forcing the walls of light backward so that they exerted pressure back on the assassin, burning him where the white light pushed against his scales, before she added, in a louder mental voice than she had used before, “Leave.”

The thing retreated, at least, long enough for the elf to consider his words. If the man she was protecting was fated to die…

She offered up the question, silently, to the Fates, her second time in as many days. Must he live? Or must he die? The answer was clear.

Alina stepped forward, gently interrupting what passed for conversation between May and the man. “I’m sorry, Robert, but you were wrong. You aren’t meant to stay alive beyond today; you aren’t fated to.” She removed her barriers and concentrated instead on the bead of light that was his life force, shrinking it with her will until it had imploded into nothing, smiling beatifically as the man collapsed, dead.

“Are you crazy?! That was our dinner tonight” May emphasized, clutching her growling stomach.

“You were going to eat him?” Alina asked, calmly. “You still can, now that he’s dead, though I can’t say much for your… taste.”

“No, you dumbass! He was going to give us stuff for helping him and now he’s dead and we can’t afford sandwiches!”

“In that case, perhaps you should consider eating him,” the elf agreed blandly. “Or speaking to… them.” She gestured vaguely toward a tall, metal-club-toting man, accompanying an even-taller, well-dressed woman, who seemed to be approaching.

“I stil think you ought to shove your wand where the sun doesn’t shine.” May grumbled at the elf, turning to speak to the imposing woman. “Can I help you?”

“It appears you just did,” she said, in an accent that May couldn’t quite place. “Or did you not just assassinate Robert Westland, as per my… requests?”

“It depends. Are you willing to part with… what we agreed upon?” May replied coyly, looking up to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Here are the funds you requested, Dragon. Along with the thanks of The Sisters. If you need our help in future… endeavours, you can count us as allies.” With that, the club bearing man set down a small chest, filled with gold pieces, as the lady walked away. Nodding curtly to the mage and alchemist, the guard followed his mistress out of the marketplace

Alina eyed the body, wondering idly if she ought to do anything with it. “Are you going to eat him?” she asked again.

“Alina. We do not partake of other people’s flesh. It would be excessive and disrespectful to this man’s fate.” May said, intoning Alina’s earlier self-righteous tone.

The elf sighed. “Seems like a waste of good meat,” she commented softly, but left the corpse to follow May back to the inn.

BGM: Yuki Kajiura ~ Mezame

"I said 'Hey'."

The voice echoed across the suddenly very silent square, the only sound a faint murmur, carrying upon it the fear of the surrounding crowd. The noise of shifting fabric floated out to join it as Procyon slowly turned himself around, his black coat gently swaying in a light breeze. A single golden eye met two red ones staring back from underneath black bangs and a slightly askew straw hat. The crowd faded into the background, murmur falling away as dragon and swordsman silently clashed wills. Finally, the slouching figure by the ornate fountain raised a single hand, and jerked a thumb towards a signboard leaning haphazardly against the fountain.

Try your might against the
greatest warrior in the land...

...if you dare.

The dragon broke the silence with a sneering voice. "A bold claim, human. A false claim, too."

A dry, coarse chuckle rose from the swordsman's throat, as he reached out his right arm to grasp the scabbard of his katana with one hand, and then slowly pushed himself up to his feet with it, brushing his straw hat casually from his head, letting it hang loosely from the chinstrap alongside his wild black hair. As he stood, the bystanders took another involuntary step backwards, as they laid eyes on what was practically a giant, towering easily a head above the taller humans in the square, and Procyon found himself only barely reaching the height of the man's huge shoulders. Now standing, the warrior shrugged his shoulder, letting a long leather case that had been strapped over his back slide off and fall to the ground, leaning against the stone brim that held back the flowing water behind him. "Heh. The proudest ones are always the ones that take this the worst." His voice came out deep and raspy, adding to the intense air of intimidation and power around him. His face split into a broad grin as he stared down at the twisted mockery of human form before him. "Well? I hope you aren't plannin' on standing there all day." His grin widened somehow as one of his feet shifted slightly across the dusty cobblestone. "Or did you wanna give up?"

The dragon didn't justify that with a verbal response. With a snarl of rage and the thunderclap of a sonic boom, he bolted forward, blurring into black lines. the cobblestone of the square shattered instantaneously, fragments of rubble hurled randomly into the sky by the sheer force of Procyon's lunge. Screams filled the air as bystanders were bodily hurled from the ground as the sound barrier shattered in front of them. Eardrums shattered, pedestrians flew, but before they had even been hit, Procyon had already reached his target, fist extended with brilliant blue magic pouring from between his clenched fingers.

The swordsman's eyes barely had time to widen before his enemy was upon him, and at the last second his empty right hand that hadn't even had a chance to draw his blade began to jerk upward towards the attack, far too slow to ever reach it in time. Procyon's attack closed in, and his arm extended to cover the last tiny fraction of a gap...

...and stopped. The row of afterimages of the swordsman's rising arm blurred together, his hand shooting up so fast that Procyon hadn't even realized it had moved until after it had caught him. Shock ran through him as he stared, unable to believe the impossible thing he was seeing. There was no way any human could match his speed, let alone move so fast he couldn't even comprehend the motion. Yet, his attack had still landed. Whether it was on an open palm, or a solar plexus, the punch had contained so much concentrated destructive power that it would have probably broken a few of his own bones, had he not been reinforcing himself with the fragments of dragon magic that remained with him in his deformed state. Sure enough, the force of the strike ruptured the ground, the fountain, and carved a trail of destruction onward, simply through its shock-wave. Signboard and leather carrying case were launched toward the sky alongside the sculptures, now in fragments, that had once adorned the peak of the centerpiece.

Even still, the swordsman didn't move. Not even by an inch. Red eyes looked down smugly on Procyon, seeming to mock him for such a pitiful attempt. Had Procyon been thinking rationally about the situation, he would have felt the grip of fear clamping down on his throat. However, rationality was far from his state of mind. Rather, seeing that condescending expression, the unending rage of hundreds of years of life flowed ever faster, rushing through his head. Hatred and fury became his world, and his vision filled with a tint of red. Surrendering his will to old instinct, he let out a mighty roar, and the rolling voice of an enraged dragon filled the sky, reverberating through the streets and sending instinctual panic through the hearts of the citizens that traveled them. The sound wasn't something that could be reproduced by the vocal chords of a human, the battle cry of a great and ancient beast that was out for blood. Simply by making such a sound, Procyon felt something in his throat tear, but he was beyond reacting to pain.

His fist flew open, letting out a burst of blue light that knocked him free of the swordsman's grip, and he leaped spinning sideways into the air, bringing down a mighty kick on his opponent's head, only to be easily caught by the black scabbard of the man's sword, still sheathed and held in his left hand. A right hook came blurring up to meet him in mid-air, but Procyon was already kicking off the scabbard, and crossing his arms in front of his chest, he caught the oncoming blow, leaping with it to reduce the power of the hit. Even so, he found himself airborne, flipping over in the air, but at the last moment, he tucked his body inward and finished his turn, landing, or attempting to land, in a crouch. Instead, off balance and jarred by the force of the blow, he stumbled about slightly, legs for a moment straining to support him, before regaining his balance.

The swordsman watched the dragon with obvious disdain, but he saw in the dragon's eye something he hadn't expected. Smugness. A sense of victory. Jerking his head around, he started to turn, and he had just enough time to catch in his peripheral vision the corner of a spinning, airborne blue cube, glowing with power before a wall of blue-white magic destruction engulfed him.

Following the flash of light from Procyon's trap came a cloud of thick black smoke, hiding the destruction created by the blast. The dragon straightened fully, feeling a twinge of pain in his abdomen and sucking in air, trying to reclaim what had been knocked out of him by the swordsman's counter-attack. "Do not..." He gasped in another lungful of air. "look down on me, you scum." He started to turn away, but a clatter brought him whirling around on instinct, nerves tense with apprehension. Yet, the sound had only been crumbling stone, and there were no traces of the swordsman. "Wha-" Procyon managed to spit out half a word before an immense hand still trailing smoke came flying out of the side of his view and crashed into his face. As he was sent head over heels by the mighty backhand, insensible to the world around him, he let out an incomprehensible noise of equal parts shock and pain that was cut off rather sharply by his impact with the side of a building.

"Ehhhh" The swordsman made a noise of general discontent. "Is that all you got, Dragon? Fast legs and a couple of flashy lights?" Still holding his katana in his left hand, he didn't even bother to draw the black weapon covered in silver ornamentation.

Inside the wrecked room he found himself in, Procyon pushed himself to his feet, but even standing was a struggle. Disoriented and dizzy, he stumbled along, moving back towards the gaping hole his body had made seconds ago, or was it minutes? He wasn't sure if he had even stayed conscious. On his face, the thick grey stone of his mask was lined with black cracks zigzagging up and down the left side where he had been hit, reaching almost to his eye. Stumbling out of the hole, Procyon fell to one knee in the trench his flying form had dug through the ground outside, and he reached out with his right hand to catch the ground and keep him from collapsing entirely. The coarse voice calling out to him in mocking tones came from a long distance, but he could still sense the man's location. He was a beacon of magic. Twisted, blackened power flowing through him with every beat of his heart. Procyon felt his mouth forming into a snarl, and a growl built in his injured throat.

"Heh heh heh. Now that's more like it. Get mad. I wanna see what you can really do." The huge, toothy grin once more crossed the face of the nameless warrior as the air started to fill with power, and luminous blue sparks flashed across the dragon's coat.

With a roar of exertion and a flash of power, Procyon tore his hand up from where it had sunken into the ground, ripping up the dirt along with it. As bits of soil and rock flew into the air, a wave of power rose from the ground, at first perhaps a foot tall, but rapidly gaining height, a continuous explosion of magic tearing up from beneath the earth and cutting forward at the speed of sound. Seeing the attack coming, the swordsman leaped high into the air up and backwards, but the peak of the wave fragmented into millions of tiny darts, firing upward in a seemingly inescapable barrage.

Letting out a bellowing laugh, the swordsman finally drew his sword. Sliding the black blade smoothly from its scabbard, his arm blurred into motion, slicing back and forth across the air in front of him at physics defying speeds, and yet despite the rate at which he swung, the casual and careless way he waved the sword with a single hand made it look as though he wasn't even trying. Invisible waves of power crashed against the ephemeral blue of Procyon's phantasms, and blasted them away like dust in a gale. As the swordsman's feet hit the ground once more, the wall of blue before him completely disintegrated, revealing empty, blasted earth instead of his enemy. "Oh come on, really?" Rolling his eyes sarcastically, the warrior turned around to face Procyon, blood now leaking through the cracks of his mask, standing directly behind him, right hand raised and braced with his left. "Did you really think that would work?"

Procyon snarled out only a single word. "Burn!"

Splitting the air with a bright gleam of power, a huge circle formed in front of Procyon's outstretched palm, runes flashing into existence nigh instantaneously, completing the magic circle that triggered a mere fraction of a second later.

The door shut with a quiet click as the phoenix once more stepped out into the hall. All in all, things had gone very well, in her opinion. The Phantom - whose name, she had learned, was in fact Artelius Nighthart, a surname that seemed very familiar to her somehow, although she couldn't quite place it from recollection (years of solitude did very little good for one's memories in relation to society) - had agreed to hire her for the job after only a few simple questions (her areas of expertise, background, and magical schooling, for the most part) and, although he had already been surprisingly satisfied upon hearing that she largely specialized in combat magics rather than more intricate and mysterious spells, was more than eager to take her on after a brief but rather involved discussion on Arcane Mechanics, Enchantments, and Magical Essence Transfusion. The last of these topics had been rather fortuitous, since it was one of the fields of speculative magic that she knew best, being a product of one such fusion.

She had not, of course, revealed her identity either as a chosen hero or as a combined magus and familiar. Although she highly doubted that the Phantom knowing either of those particular secrets would hinder her chances of getting the job as his assistant - actually, they might have improved her chances considerably, although it seemed that wouldn't have been necessary in the first place - the news of her various secrets would no doubt spread, and as Mokou knew all too well, that would lead to unwanted, and, in fact, oftentimes dangerous attention being focused on her. And, be it speculative magic researchers or the puppetmasters behind the Jackal attacks, the last thing Mokou needed was to be located by such a threat, as that would delay her here in Kingas, and likely result in her being unable to rendezvous with her comrades in the city before they departed.

The Phoenix smiled, walking down the hallway back towards the staircase. In any case, it seemed that she was to meet up with the Phantom at a large auditorium near the edge of the city that evening, both to test her magic's compatibility with Artelius' own skills, and then to rehearse for the upcoming show on the following evening. That didn't leave much time to prepare, but, for an act that would essentially just consist of using the most flashy magic possible to awe the watching crowds, no significant preparation would be needed save coordinating the acts which were to be performed and matching up entrances and exits. After all, improvisation was the heart of a show such as this.

The Phoenix had to admit, she was excited. The prospect of the reward that awaited her was more than enough to make the otherwise coolheaded magus positively giddy. Swinging open the door to the stairwell with just a little more force than could be considering necessary, Mokou was just about to make her way back down the stairwell when she stopped for a moment, listening carefully to the echoes of the quiet bang the door made as it struck the side wall of the corridor as she opened it with just a touch too much enthusiasm. Specifically, what caught her attention was the hollow ringing of the thud as the sound echoed through the room on the far side of the wall. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. After all, she was in a hotel, and there were normally rooms on either side of the corridor. But this wasn't any ordinary hotel hallway, which was what caught her attention almost immediately. She had read on the flier that the Phantom could be found in his suite, which took up the entire top floor of this particular inn. She was just about to dismiss her suspicions, writing the room on the opposite side of the wall off as being just part of the Phantom's suite, but then a thought even more suspicious struck her.

During her interview with Artelius, she had seen absolutely no doors or other means of access within his so-called suite. Similarly, there were no other doors here in the hallway through which to access this other room on the fourth floor. Furthermore, from the outside of the building, there were no windows or other identifying signs of a second room existing on this level. In short, there was absolutely no way to either enter or exit the second room. But, there was most certainly a second room there.

The Phoenix's eyes narrowed, and she found herself shutting the door much more gently than she had opened it as she stepped into the stairwell and began to make her way downstairs. There was most certainly something uncanny going on here, and, furthermore, it was becoming increasingly clear that Artelius Nighthart, the Black Phantom, had something to hide...

Knocking twice on the doors of the old auditorium, the phoenix covered her head with an umbrella she'd purchased before setting out, shielding herself as best she could from a sudden, brief burst of rain that had begun to fall shortly before her departure. Being a creature of the element of fire, the phoenix didn't much care to be drenched in the downpour. But, fortunately, it seemed she wouldn't have to be, for in a few moments, the doors abruptly swung inward, revealing the vast rows of seats, and the stage at the room's center, upon which the magician stood. It seemed he wasn't sparing any of his parlor tricks for their rehearsal, even though it had yet to even begin, judging by the fact that the doors had evidently been made to open themselves without any human assistance.

"Clever. Do you plan on employing that as a greeting for the show itself, Mr. Nighthart?" Mokou asked politely, striding down the center aisle of the theater and swiftly surmounting the stage. Artelius smirked beneath the brim of his gigantic hat.

"It's but one of many opening acts I intend to utilize to give our audience of a taste of the show to come, Miss Suzaku. I'm glad you approve of my choice," He replied cordially, doffing his large wizard's cap and taking a theatrical bow.

"Oh? Might I inquire what the others are?" The Phoenix asked casually, closing her umbrella and propping it up at the base of the stage.

"You said that your specialty was in fire magic, yes? Well, how precisely, and at what distance, might I ask, are you capable of starting fires?" Pointing towards the entrance which she had come through, which closed itself in the same instant, the magician drew Mokou's attention to a pair of large braziers. Then, he pointed upward towards the ceiling, where several decorative chandeliers hung, their candles unlit. The Phoenix nodded, understanding his plan immediately.

"So you intend to light up the room remotely the instant the show is to begin? It's certainly quite theatrical," She observed, nodding in approval.

"Not just that. I've prepared a variety of chemical compounds, to apply to the braziers and the candles. They'll increase the time for which they burn, and cause them to combust in an array of bright and unnatural colors."

Mokou raised an eyebrow. Why bother with chemical compounds when a wizard in possession of such a powerful grimoire could easily create multicolored flames on his own? Even she, with her precise control over her feathers and their appearance, could easily have performed such a feat. Did that mean that he was in fact a phony magician, just a cunning illusionist who performed tricks that only had the appearance of magic? But he had called her a "fellow magic enthusiast" upon her self-introduction, and had spoken quite lucidly of arcane matters during their interview... She supposed it wasn't impossible that he was merely a very devoted faker, but it seemed rather unlikely, especially considering that he had somehow managed to open the door without moving from his position across the room.

"I see," She observed quietly, pretending not to have noticed before she was sure of anything. "That will certainly make things easier than maintaining such a display myself."

"Very good. Then, since we have our opener planned out, let's get down to the real matters at hand, shall we? Follow me backstage. I've got quite a selection to choose from." Speaking thus, the magus gestured towards the curtain, causing it to slide apart in a similar fashion to the doors a moment prior. Leading the way, he and the phoenix then entered the theater's back room.

.....

All things considered, the rehearsal had gone rather well for just picking and choosing tricks at random, learning how they worked, and then mastering their execution, and within a few hours, the Phantom and the Phoenix had come up with a well balanced performance that both were quite satisfied with. It had been rather odd, however. The Phantom's entire routine seemed based around grandstanding with flashy magics, but he was never actually directly responsible for any of the visual effects upon which he relied, almost as though he'd only hired Mokou as his assistant to serve as his master of special effects, while he planned the individual subtleties of each trick. His show contained everything from a completely hollow automaton that somehow played chess - the controlling force of which even Mokou could not determine, but which she herself was to masquerade as in the form of an infernal specter of flames from within its belly - to a trick that revolved around "disintegrating" himself, only to emerge in the next instant from the opposite side of the stage, untouched, via a clever contraption that dropped the floor from under him, then launched him through a small shaft beneath the stage to a hidden entrance on the opposite side, while Mokou herself merely served to provide the necessary pyrotechnics. Yet, although his genius seemed merely to lie within clever gadgets and parlor tricks, every time the phoenix was just about certain that he had no actual magical talent, he performed some other inexplicable, trivial, and mundane feat of "magic" that puzzled her. She wasn't sure if he was merely so apt at utilizing machines that even she could not perceive his remote manipulations, or if he was simply a master of a form of magic she had yet to become aware of, but in any case, she could no longer be certain where exactly the man's talents lay.

"Thank you for all your help, Miss Suzaku," The magician said politely, adjusting his wide-brimmed hat. "I would say without a shadow of a doubt that our show tomorrow will be a fine success."

"I'm proud to have your confidence," The Phoenix replied calmly. "In that case, I suppose I'll have to be sure I don't let you down."

"Trust me. As one who has experience with the sort of audience we're in for, I doubt a spellcaster of your standing would be even capable of failing to meet the crowd's expectations."

"I'll take your word for it, then. Well, in any case, I suppose I should go get some rest," Mokou said calmly, picking up her umbrella and heading for the door. "After all," She continued over her shoulder. "I'd hate to be too tired to be of use in the show tomorr-"

Mokou froze mid-sentence. Having lived in the wilderness for quite some time, the Phoenix had a sort of built in danger sense that tipped her off to when a predator was stalking her. It was that sense that alerted her now to the fact that, without a doubt, the two of them were being watched.

It was this early warning that gave Mokou time to leap backward just in time to avoid a sudden blast of light as, with a flurry of wings, a tiny, almost unseen creature tore through the space she had occupied just a moment before, wreathed in an aura of destructive light that tore clear through her unfortunate umbrella, which she dropped a moment later without hesitation.

A fairy? She wondered, flipping head over heels in mid air and landing softly on the brink of the stage. It must be someone's familiar. Then... there's another spellcaster here. It came from above. That means- Mokou's thoughts were cut short by the sight that met her eyes as she turned her gaze upward.

"What the...?" She wondered aloud as over a hundred fairy lights, identical to the one that had just nearly pierced her clean through, shone down upon her from the rafters above, silhouetting two black shapes that dropped from the ceiling and landed side by side in the center aisle.

They were under attack.

(To be continued.)

The sonic assault hit Julian mid-leap as he made his way across the rooftops of Kingas to the riot. Eslai had still been far enough away that the Timekeeper managed to avoid the worst of the attack, but what was left was still enough to cause him to botch his landing and send him sprawling across the tiles of the roof he’d been headed towards, hands clamped tight over his audio receptors.

Something clicked inside Julian’s head casing, and the sonic attack was immediately reduced to a far more manageable volume. The clockwork man held back a moan and forced himself back to his feet, optics already scanning the mob and its surroundings for others of his kind. Definitely Eslai, he thought. I’ve got to have a talk with him; he’s going out of control…

Julian’s lenses flickered as his eyesight returned to normal, and his attention was immediately drawn to a staggering figure draped in black staggering over to a nearby alley. Blood oozed between the man’s fingers as he clutched at the face beneath his hood, leaving a thin trail of black droplets with each unsteady step. Looks like our friendly neighborhood cultist’s work here is done, the clockwork man noted. Works for me. If he can’t take the heat anymore, I’m sure the Timekeepers would be willing to provide a place to stay for now. Hope you like torture cells, buddy.

Still pressing his hands to his head, the cultist slumped to the side of the passage Julian’s position overlooked, his cloak bunching up as he slid down the brick wall. The clockwork immediately leaped over the edge of his perch, his outstretched arm impacting the cultist’s head as he landed and slamming it into the ground. There was a crack and a spurt of blood from the man’s face as it buried itself in the dirt, likely from a fractured skull or pulverized nose.

Julian stood back up and hauled his quarry’s head to eye level by the back of his hood. Yellowing eyes, dead skin, unnatural blood coloration- all signs pointed to a history of intimate dealings with magics not meant for human use. Clearly, this man should not have been allowed on the streets.

There was a flash of indigo sparks in Julian’s peripherals, quickly accompanied by the sensation of several vital internal systems abruptly shutting down, their inner workings abruptly silenced. Confining a string of curses to his mind, the clockwork man released his now-conscious opponent and leapt backwards. The cultist landed heavily on all fours and quickly scrambled to his feet, his wide-eyed grimace shifting to a manic grin as Julian’s cloak blinked and disappeared, revealing its wielder.

“Another clockwork,” the hooded man rasped, his voice hoarse and stunted from his recent ordeals. “I knew you would come. Knew you would want to stop me from carrying out my holy task, to taint theaaAARGH-“

The man’s tirade terminated in an animalistic shriek as Julian charged forward and slammed into him shoulder-first, forcing both to the ground. There was a soft click as the arm Julian wasn’t using to pin down the cultist sprouted its wrist-blade, and then another yell from the cultist as the weapon penetrated his arm and cut its way through to the ground below.

Immediately, the wound began to bubble and hiss where flesh touched metal, and Julian suppressed another curse as he retreated once more. There was a snap as he attempted to tug his blade out of the cultist’s shoulder, and the Timekeeper’s arm came free, minus half of its weapon. He glared down at the stump of the blade, the remaining bloodstains still fizzing away and leaving the metal beneath it warped and discolored. Apparently, even the man’s blood was cursed. That would complicate things.

Groaning, the cultist attempted to force himself to his feet again, his right arm limp and bleeding, his left hand crackling with indigo sparks. Sizing up the distance between him and his opponent, Julian readjusted his footing, then lashed out with an uppercut with enough force to fracture bone. The cultist’s jaw emitted a snap as the clockwork’s fist smashed into it; the energy in his hand misfired and struck the base of one of the surrounding buildings.

Ignoring the blood droplets that splattered his metal skin, Julian attacked again, his roundhouse kick connecting neatly with the left side of the cultist’s face. The robed man collided heavily with the wall to his right, his head at an awkward angle; another groan escaped his lips as his injured shoulder hit the bricks. Still moaning, he slumped down the side of the building, his shoulder trailing unnatural blood.

Julian kept his distance. Best not to let the cultist sucker-punch him again and hit something even more vital. Like his brain. That would be bad.

A loud crack from behind interrupted his vigil, and the clockwork instinctively turned to face the source of the noise. It wasn’t that hard to spot; the entire wall of the building behind him was shuddering and emitting purple sparks, large cracks covering nearly half of the stone surface and quickly spreading. He hurriedly glanced back at his downed opponent- still unconscious, tainted blood still dripping down his face and robes- and then the wall crumbled, burying the two of them in a small mountain of stone debris.

"Hey, hey, you're not supposed to dodge!" Protested the first figure, a boy clad in a hooded black coat whose eyes gleamed crimson from beneath their shroud, and whose hand held a short, wickedly sharp knife that glistened like fractured moonlight in the darkness. His compatriot shrugged his shoulders, folding a set of six shadowy black wings, like those of a giant insect, and gazing forward with eyes of solid yellow-green that matched his short cropped hair, and which seemed just as eerily incandescent as his comrade's. As this latter member of the duo landed, the fairies followed him, which, combined with his own fey appearance, would indicate him as the master of the enormous flock of familiars that now filled the auditorium.

"It matters not," The green-haired man said calmly. "That was only a warning shot, after all. This girl isn't who we're looking for, so the only thing to do is get her out of the way."

"Can I, Oberon? Oh, can I, can I, can I?" The hooded boy asked giddily, gazing as though enraptured down into the edge of his knife.

"Our orders don't specify either way what we should do with outsiders. The way I see it, that means you can do whatever you please with her, Nihilus," the Fairy-Master, Oberon, replied, to which his comrade answered with a crow of raucous, jeering laughter that resounded off the walls of the auditorium.

"Now then," The green-haired man said, stepping forward amidst his legion of fairy followers. "Tell me, 'Artelius.'" One could almost hear the air quotes with which he spoke the name in his snide, scornful tone. "Where is he? If you hand over the grimoire and the boy, we might just be able to convince master to spare your life."

The Phantom, who had been dead silent through this confrontation, merely laughed, the derisive, mocking peal matching the intruders fully in hostility, and clashing sharply with his previous, friendly manner.

"Sorry, but if you're going to try to negotiate, at least get a more believable offer. We both know that man only wants me dead, and the fate in store for him is even worse. I'll give you nothing." With these confident words, Artelius - although Mokou was beginning to doubt that was his actual name - stepped onto the edge of the stage, whispering a few words in the phoenix's ear as he passed.

"They will try to kill you too. Help me, and we can both get out of this alive."

Mokou nodded slightly in response, and then faced forward, staring down the enemy duo.

"Suit yourself. The master no longer requires you," Oberon said with a quiet chuckle. "It's your funeral."

"I think otherwise," Artelius replied casually. "The way I see it... it's yours." With those words, the magician snapped his fingers, and in the next instant, the room collapsed into chaos. With a loud groan of tearing metal and crumbling stone, the center aisle abruptly sank into the floor, with countless metallic spears erupting from the surrounding floor and driving themselves downward into the pit below. Yet, in the next instant, a flash of blue light erupted from below as, momentarily, black ice darted across the incoming projectiles, which crumbled a moment later as the man called Oberon released another cloud of his fairy familiars, ripping the incoming attack to shreds.

"Oh, come now, phony magician," Jeered Oberon, rising from the pit as his wings of shadow unfolded themselves once again. "Did you seriously expect that I didn't realize the locations of the traps you set here? No matter what tricks you try to pull, I know what you'll do before you do it! My eyes see all things, and they see right through your transparent attempts to strike back at us! Just surrender and tell us where he is!"

"No thank you, I'd really rather not," Replied Artelius calmly, snapping his fingers once again. With a flash of light, the braziers he'd planned to use during the show all ignited somehow on their own, a surge of seven-colored fire rising into the air. Mokou didn't need to think twice to realize that this was her cue. Taking control of the fire in an instant, she caused it to collapse inward atop the two intruders, burying them beneath a wave of flames.

"Freeze!" Cried the voice of Nihilus from within the blaze. To Mokou's surprise, in the next instant, her fire did just that, crystallizing into some sort of black ice which yet again shattered as the fairy-master Oberon released another swarm of familiars to scatter the frozen flames. In the instant the barrier of fire was down, the boy came leaping forth, his crimson eyes wide with delight as he lunged towards the phoenix with his knife. The fire-master's eyes widened in surprise. He was much faster than should have been possible for an ordinary person, even a mage. His movements were much closer to those of a golem, or some other magically reinforced construct. But that wasn't the only thing strange about him. His magic was bizarre as well. She couldn't feel any sort of spell surrounding him, save for a momentary flare of power around his face as he cast. And he had somehow managed to freeze her fire, something that shouldn't have been possible... Combine that with his companion somehow managing to sustain at least a hundred, if not more, familiars at once, and his cryptic statement about his eyes - not to mention his pointed ears and bizarre hair and eye colors - and it immediately became quite clear that whoever these two were, they weren't normal members of any major race. Actually, they were almost like...

Mokou didn't have time to think. Transforming her body into fire at the last minute, she stepped to the side as Nihilus' knife passed harmlessly through her incorporeal side. The boy gave a cry of surprise, stumbling past her, but recovered, leaping back before she could mount a counterattack with her flames. As he landed next to his partner once again, the phoenix grimaced, noting that all eyes in the room were suddenly focused on her. Normal people couldn't transform themselves into fire at will, after all.

Artelius took several steps back, his eyes filling with distrust. "Impossible...!" He exclaimed, raising his fingers in preparation to activate another trap. "You can't be... I won't let you take him!"

"Oberon, what happened? I cut her, but she doesn't bleed! Is she made of fire, or something?" He asked, seeming disappointed by the lack of scarlet claret adorning his knife.

"I..." The fairy-master stammered, seeming genuinely stunned. "Nihilus! We withdraw for now," He ordered suddenly.

"Huh? But why?"

"That girl is Bound. I could clearly see her half when she shifted. That means she could be of use to the master. We need to inform him of this right away."

"Huh?! Bound? Are you serious?! That's great! We come looking for one, and we find two! Master'll be happy for sure!"

Oberon smirked, then abruptly floated upward. "Indeed. Now, then, let's depart. Until next time, girl."

Mokou grimaced as, with a flash of light, the fairy-master tore a hole in the roof and rose out from within it. Nihilus, with bestial agility, leaped upward after him, jumping from rafter to rafter and out towards the opening. The phoenix knew all too well that she wouldn't get any of the answers she was looking for unless she caught them, and since she'd already outed herself anyway, there was no sense in holding her power back any longer. With a flash of light, her "mantle" revealed its true form, shifting into a pair of fire-shrouded wings as she leaped into the air, launching upward after them. As Nihilus reached the rooftop, trying to catch up to his airborne comrade, she was already waiting for him there.

BGM: M12+13

"That's far enough," She said coldly, raising her hand as a single feather fell into it. With a flash of light, the multi-colored plume shifted its form, taking on the shape of a knife as flame ran down its new edge. "I won't let you escape."

"You wanna fight? But..." Nihilus sighed. "Since you're Bound, I can't kill you! What fun is that?" He gazed mournfully down at his knife, before raising his head with an insane grin on his face. "Still... If you're made of fire, I can cut you up all I like, and you won't die, right? Then Oberon shouldn't mind if I play with you a little bit!" With that, the mad child leaped forward, twisted laughter resounding across the rooftop as he raised his knife. Reacting quickly, Mokou swept out her own matching weapon, leaving a faint trail of crimson flames as she slashed for the boy's extended wrists. To her surprise, however, he reacted almost instantly, abruptly leaping into the air and flipping head over heels, plunging his blade downward as the phoenix raised her own to defend herself. The two knives met with a crackle and a hiss of flames, sparks flying between their blades as the demented boy completed his flight and landed opposite her on the slick rooftop, skidding across a pool of water left in the wake of the prior rain. In an instant, he caught himself, and lunged back towards her, still laughing. His speed was incredible, far beyond anything Mokou had seen since leaving the forest - save, perhaps, her draconic comrade. Crossing the rooftop in an instant, the boy abruptly dropped into a crouch, sliding across the wet tiles of the rooftop and swiping at her legs with his knife. Sidestepping as he passed, she only had just enough time to cross her arms to block a sudden kick as he backflipped to his feet, raising his knife to continue the assault as she staggered back, off-balance. Flicking her knife into a reverse grip as he came on, Mokou sidestepped, grazing the side of Nihilus' knife as he stabbed at her heart, turning his attack aside before spinning into a reverse roundhouse kick that struck him in the back of the head. This time, it was his turn to stumble, falling face first into a puddle before rolling to his feet. Taking advantage of his defenselessness, Mokou caught another feather, transformed it, took aim, and then let loose this new knife, hurling it straight for her adversary. The boy was faster than expected, sidestepping the projectile so that it only grazed his hood instead of impaling his shoulder, as she'd hoped. As the hood fell back, the phoenix cast her remaining knife straight for him, hoping to catch him before he could regain his balance from dodging the first one she'd cast. The blade's path was true, streaking towards the center of her target's chest.

"Freeze," Nihilus intoned, his crimson eyes flashing brightly as he spoke. In an instant, the thrown knife stopped in mid-air, levitating as though stuck in time. The phoenix's eyes widened in surprise, while the boy smirked triumphantly.

"Sorry, big sister," He apologized earnestly. "But I can't stay and play anymore, or else brother Oberon will be mad at me. Don't worry, though. We'll play again soon. Very soon." He smirked. "Freeze."

Then, he jumped backward, right off the edge of the rooftop. The phoenix rushed forward, trying to stop him, only to find that his escape wasn't exactly what she had expected. Nihilus did not fall. Rather, he simply flew backward as though weightless, soaring towards a rooftop across the street. But Mokou didn't intend to lose him so easily. Rushing forward, she caught several more feathers, turning them into paper charms as she, too, rushed to the edge of the rooftop and leaped off. Giving herself a boost with flames from her wings, she soared over the gap after her target, loosing the charms as she did so. Nihilus landed, spinning about as he slid, skipping across the surface of the wet roof. His eyes flashed red as he raised his hand, pointing towards the incoming charms, already shrouded in flames.

"Freeze!" He commanded, and in an instant, the water on the rooftop followed his orders. Fire met ice, and in an instant, the entire rooftop was blanketed in a coat of steam. Mokou streaked into this cloud, scattering it like chaff as she, too, landed and skidded to a stop, whirling around with a single mighty beat of her wings to blast the smokescreen away. A feather sprang to her hand as another knife took form, and her eyes frantically searched about to find...

...Nothing. Not a trace of the boy she had been pursuing. Somehow, under cover of the momentary blanket of steam, Nihilus had escaped. Cursing her failure, the phoenix dismissed her knife, and turned to go. Artelius would be waiting, and he would want an explanation for what he'd seen. But he was by no means the only one who wanted answers. Mokou had plenty of questions of her own, and already, she was beginning to formulate several theories as to what the truth might be...

And then the wall crumbled, burying the two combatants in a small mountain of stone debris.

That in itself was not entirely a bad thing, Eslai mused, perching on the rubble. For one thing, that other clockwork was buried with the cultist and wouldn't be bugging him for a while. Then the rubble shifted beneath his feet and Eslai cursed, wondering why he never had luck on his side. He'd been hoping that the other clockwork would be immobilised for a little while, since Julian had looked like he was having everything well in hand..

Oh, no, not a single iota of luck, Eslai groused. If he had the slightest drop of liquid luck then Julian would have been rising from the rubble just about now, scolding Eslai for his recklessness that endangered them all, but no, Eslai had no such luck. Instead, Eslai had to deal with the warlock cultist bastard rising out like a wraith dissatisfied with its grave.

"Die," growled the cultist.

"Fuck off," Eslai told him, and shot him in the face with both pistols.

Both bullets blasted ragged holes across the cultist's visage, ripping leathery skin off him. It ought to have killed him too, Eslai grumbled, but no, the cultist just had to dabble in dark magic. It would have been a lot more helpful, Eslai decided as his head slammed into the rubble, if the Goddess' mark had protected him from harmful spells as well apart from just dark curses.

Anyone who said that clockworks couldn't feel pain was a three-legged lying horse, because Eslai was feeling lots and lots of it overflowing and running rampant through his circuits, jamming and burning away his senses and he cried out under the burning pressure as the cultist surrounded him with a cloud of black death and crushed him under its unfathomable weight.

At that moment, light flared from somewhere and sliced away the cloud darkness. Pure and clean light stabbed out from the Goddess' mark on his hand and Eslai leaped away before the warlock could throw another spell.

"Goddess.." Eslai murmured in awe as the light lanced out ahead and tore away the unholy spell framework forming around the cultist. The Goddess was magnificent, and her enemies were small beside her might.

As magnificent as She was, however, he was still Her tool and he still needed to be the one fighting. With a snap-click and whir, he held a rifle in his hands. Long and finely-wrought, the rifle became inundated with a faint azure light. It glowed with holy power, a tangible presence of the Lady of Light, an anointing that would cleanse the world from darkness and evil. He aimed down the sight, knowing that no bullet was loaded but also knowing that he needed no mundane pellet for this shot. Energy rushed out of the barrel, forming an achingly beautiful spider-web star matrix in the air, expanding to form several tiers of divine foci and Eslai fired.

Coruscating brilliance cast out like a harpoon, straight and true, amplified, focused and accelerated into a singular streak. It burned, and it blessed, sanctifying as it seared away the cultist's crrupt, absolutely contemptible flesh. Evil gave way to goodness, shadows to light, and the blinding radiance lit the sky.

Black smoke rose up from the gaping hole in the cultist's chest as the brightness slowly died away. Gibbets of shadows fell back to cloak the dying man, and Eslai took a step towards him.

"You die as you lived," said the clockwork, "wreathed in darkness." Eslai lightly touched the rifle, baring fading patterns of divine beauty along its barrel. "The Goddess ordained me for one thing: to illuminate you."

Eslai sat back on the rubble, looking up at the skies thoughtfully. He had never been particularly devout, but a miracle was a miracle. It never hurt to thank the Goddess.

"Lady? I'll try to be less grouchy. Sorry. Thanks."

But Eslai was still grumpy about the fact that he'd wasted a perfectly good one-liner. Illuminate you? What kind of stupid line was that?

A battlefield covered in dead bodies and dried blood, fallen soldiers on each side laying on the ground no longer as people but just as corpses. A few days ago a group of mountain Trolls had sudden assaulted the Monastery of the Light Monks, the home of the once great Elven hero Pardoner. It had seemed odd at the time that the Trolls would suddenly assaulted the heavily fortified holy place, but after the Monastery had received scrying reports of Jackals being lead to preform attacks on major cities it was easy to see what was going on. Whoever now controlled the Jackals had sent these mountain dwelling subrace against them in an attempt to slay one of the Lights greatest warriors.

Now after days of battle only two figures stood on the battlefield. The Mountain Troll army, if it could even be called that, had been defeated, and all that remained on the field where the two commanders of the forces. The High Pardoner, an elf who stood at a rather high 6'6 with flowing blonde hair and wearing the robes of a holy man, the symbol of the sun painted against the back of his robe stood opposite the even more massive Troll leader. The massive grey skinned Troll stood at 8 feet and cut a menacing figure, dressed in leather armor and carrying a club that looked like it could be used to hunt Elephants with ease.

"Will you not end this foolishness while you still have your life?" Pardoner asked with a calm and controlled voice.

"Kill, must kill!" the Troll surged forth and slammed the ground where Pardoner had once been standing, leaving a small crater in the ground. But the attack hadn't hit Pardoner, in fact the elf whose boyish looks defied his true age was already fully behind the troll. He quickly reached under his robe and pulled out a rectangular metal rod. Once the device rested in his hand a pure white energy seemed to surge out of one side of it, forming into a blade. The Elf surged forward and jumped up, slashing the Trolls arm deep enough to force the creature to drop its weapon and grasp its now useless arm in pain.

"Oh sinful creature, be blessed by the holy light of the Goddess and find peace in death" the man reached into the sides of his robes and pulled out more of the odd devices, throwing them around the Troll and snapping his fingers. "Judgement" all at once each of the device fired off a white energy blade, stabbing into the creature and silencing its cries once and for all. With a wave of his hand he summoned each of the devices back and placed them careful back into his robe, walking over the dead body and back to the Monastery so he could make preparations to invite in the guests he would no doubt be receiving soon. After all... he looked down at the back of his hand at the symbol that sat there, the nine swords surrounding a single shield.. it was how it had been done for them.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Well that was terribly anti climatic" Strider looked into the crystal ball in his hand with a yawn, placing it on a pedestal next to him and leaning back on his throne. "They only killed a couple of crusaders and paladins, it was barely even worth watching!" the shadowy leader of the Jackals proclaimed.

A soft feminine chuckle rang out through the throne room. "They were never suppose to, their purpose was just the same as the purpose of the first attack, a distraction to move peoples eyes away from whats really happening, thats the art of magic isn't it?"

Strider nodded at this and smiled. "As ever Vile Rose you are correct, so I assume that the meeting with the crime lords of the city went well?"

"More then well, if all goes well the Heroes will be dead the moment they wake up, all without us having to lift a finger" the voice grew darkly satisfied as it discussed the deaths of those whom Strider opposed.

"Wonderful, I can't wait to see how that turns out" he yawned a bit and stood up. "Buts thats tomorrow business, even evil masterminds like me need sleep"

"Sleep well Strider, tomorrow our dreams come true... once and for all" the feminine voice disappeared from the throne room, leaving the Jackal's commander all by himself once more.

(It doesn't sit right with me to leave a sidestory unfinished once I've begun it, so let's see if I can end this nonsense. If you still want to kick me after that, go right ahead. In any case, this is probably going to be rushed and half-assed as hell, so, yeah. QUALITY.)

"Who created you?! Tell me now!"

The bellowing voice went completely against Artelius' earlier composed manner as the magician loomed over the young woman seated before him, looking close to flipping the table between them in his desperation. Mokou raised an eyebrow. He'd clearly been concealing a great deal from her, things relating to those strange inhumans they had encountered a few hours prior. Something told her that they might have been more like her than they first appeared, if his reactions now were anything to go by. Clearly, he expected that she already knew the truth about him, hence why he was willing to give up his earlier charades in order to find out the truth about her. The Phoenix sighed, rising amidst the moonbeams flitting through the room's single window, stretching her wings now that she had nothing more about her person to conceal.

"Calm yourself," She said, sighing. "If your fears are that I'm somehow your enemy, like those two beings from the theater, then I assure you, they are unfounded."

"That's not the POINT!" Shot back the magician. "Who. Created. You?! Has someone else picked up his research?!"

"Nobody created me," Mokou replied at last. It seemed that if she was going to confirm her suspicions, she'd have to alleviate her accomplice's first. "I chose to become this way myself, in order to escape death. Both me, and my partner."

"Then you're the magician, and not the familiar?" Artelius asked, seeming more calm now that the Phoenix was answering him.

"Who knows? Even I'm not entirely sure whether I'm that naive girl from eighty years ago, or the phoenix she died to tame." Mokou shrugged, while the magician gaped.

"So you really are a phoenix..." He murmured. "A genuine, undying lifeform... You're exactly the sort of thing that beings like those two were meant to be."

"So, they're familiars fused with mages, like me?" She asked. Artelius nodded.

"They call themselves the Bound. They were produced by a mad researcher in the hopes of discovering immortality. They used to be normal human children, but after what he did to them, they've lost their free will altogether. Now they're just his puppets, doing his dirty work."

"And that dirty work involves you, I see." Mokou casually turned to glance out the window at the darkened town below. "Now, then, it's my turn to ask you for answers. For example, why is there a hidden room beyond the wall behind you?" She smirked as the magician took a step back, his eyes narrowing. "Or rather, who is it that you're hiding in there, and why do those two 'Bound' fellows want him so badly?"

"I... I can't answer that," Artelius said grimly.

"Good, because you don't have to. I can put two and two together on my own."

"What do you mean?"

"It's your brother, isn't it? Your twin, I'd venture to say. Nigh identical in appearance, but far different in temperament. Quite flighty, if I had to guess. Such that even being looked at would be enough to startle him... Oh, I see now. He wears the hat because he doesn't want people to see his face. Then he's Bound too, isn't he? A particularly important test subject?"

"H-how...?!" Artelius asked, mouth agape.

"But that doesn't explain why the two of you pretended to be one person," Mokou continued, smiling calmly as the horror compounded on Artelius' face. "That exact same outfit, and your plans for the magic show... As well as why you suddenly required an assistant now, of all times. It's because he couldn't risk giving you the special effects you needed, since you knew those two were hunting him, didn't you? The reason why he's Bound and you're not is that you can't actually use Magic, can you? That display back at the auditorium was anything but. You were using alchemy, weren't you? But that means you had prepared it for those two Bound fellows coming to attack. So the whole show was a trap to lure them in? And the grimoire... the reason you were willing to give it away wasn't just because you have no use for it. It's one of the things they're after."

"How do you know so much?" The magician asked, placing his hand on the table. The Phoenix narrowed her eyes as, in an instant, the wood shifted, parting to reveal a needle-like blade of razor sharp metal, which launched itself forth in an instant, shooting into the faker's hand as he leaped across the room, placing the blade at her throat. Mokou merely chuckled.

"Really? You're going to threaten me with a sword after seeing me cut in half without being harmed?" She asked. "As for discovering the truth about your secrets, it was a fairly simple deduction, really. I encountered your brother prior to our meeting. It seems he'd run off without your knowledge. Although he fled upon seeing me, I saw enough to realize that the two of you were different people. I'll admit, I only discovered the secret room in your suite by accidentally bumping the wall, and the rest was simply derived from my suspicions at an artifact of such value being given away so willingly, and from what the Bound who attacked us said. But there's one last thing I don't understand. Why were you able to escape with your brother and the book? Whoever this researcher was, he must have trusted you implicitly. And the name Nighthart does seem familiar... Oh, I see now. You're his son, aren't you?"

"Wait... You met my brother outside?!" Artelius asked, his eyes wider than ever. "Then that means..."

"He escaped on his own?" For the first time, Mokou seemed genuinely concerned. "How unfortunate. It seems that your trap was in vain, if they find him before you do..."

"They'll take him back and cut him to pieces for the sake of father's research!" Artelius screamed. "Please. I beg of you. I'll give you whatever you want. The grimoire. Money. The very clothing off my back, if need be. Just... you have to help me save my brother!"

"Well... A start would be taking that sword away from my throat. After that, I do believe we can begin searching without delay," Mokou said with a wry smirk.

"You'll do it?"

"Of course," The Phoenix replied. "After all, I'm supposed to be your assistant for the next day, both on the stage and off it. Now, then... Where should we look?"

--TO BE CONCLUDED.--

The wind blew violently in the wake of the recently departed storm as the phoenix glided over the city, tracking the movements of a single black figure in the streets below. Artelius would search the ground, while she would provide an eye in the sky to locate any suspicious activity near him - both human and otherwise. The Bound would have had plenty of time to report to their master, which meant that they could be lurking anywhere, waiting to attack. She didn't intend to give them the advantage of surprise, in any case.

Pulling down low over a rooftop, she shook her head to the false magician standing below. Nothing. There were no traces of anyone nearby. Honestly, how were they supposed to find this kid anyway? It was like trying to locate a single grain of sand in a desert.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. If what Artelius had told her was any indication, she should have been able to sense his presence from the power of the familiar fused to his being, but that would only happen if she got close.

"So, what do you know about the familiars at play here?" She had asked her partner as they set out.

"My father was looking for a way to perfectly fuse two beings into one immortal one. But unlike your component parts, the mages and familiars being fused wanted to retain their individuality, making a full fusion such as yourself impossible. Consequently, my father decided to use familiars with little power, but a great deal of vitality, and concentrated on fusing all of that into their heads, which contain the body's center of thought and the focus points of the senses."

"Let me guess," Mokou said, recalling the familiars the Bound man known as Oberon had used. "He used fairies, didn't he?"

"Indeed. Nihilus was the first experiment, bonded with an ice fairy, which gave him the power to freeze any aspect of anything he can see with his eyes. Oberon, meanwhile, was fused to a greater fairy, making him a sort of colony for their smaller forms and giving him control of a whole legion of them. I'm not sure how his abilities work, but they revolve around absolute sensory perception, giving him complete knowledge of everything around him, and even giving him glimpses into the future. My brother, Carl, was fused with a Spriggan - a grotesque creature with an affinity of illusions. It made his appearance quite unnatural, but gave him the power to change the appearance, sound, smell, and even taste and texture of anything he can see. But more notable than that, he stopped aging. That's why my father wants him back so badly - to see if he really succeeded in creating an immortal."

"It looks like we're still too far off," Mokou called down to the waiting Artelius. "I can't sense-"

Mokou stopped mid-sentence, as a quite notable presence abruptly entered her perceptions. Actually, it consisted of three beings, now that she analyzed it. One presence cold and chilling, the next vast and undefined, and the final one filled with overwhelming, sheer power.

"Artelius, get down!" She barely had enough time to bellow this warning before a torrent of tiny bullets of light streaked towards the man standing on the street below. Diving to the side, Artelius barely escaped being overwhelmed by these fairy projectiles. Gazing up at the sky, the two saw what they had feared most: Oberon and Nihilus, returned to finish what they'd started. But they were not alone. A tall man, clad head to foot in black, was with them.

"Father," Whispered Artelius, his voice dripping with both fear and outrage.

"Arthur. Or should I call you Artelius now? You certainly are unworthy of the name I gave you," Replied the man, stepping calmly over the rooftops before dropping down into the street, landing before his wary offspring. Mokou did the same, landing beside her ally and calmly returning the glares of the three new arrivals.

"This is bad," Whispered Artelius. "We can't take on all three of them at once."

"We don't have to," Replied Mokou in similar hushed tones. About to continue, she was interrupted by a loud, triumphant yell from the black cloaked boy, Nihilus.

"Master, that's the one! She's the Bound girl we fought before!" He said, pointing emphatically at the phoenix.

"Oh? So that's how it is. I thought you said that you were going to stop me from continuing my research, not take it up in my place, boy." The elder Nighthart sneered. "Still, that is a truly impressive Bound. Tell me, how did you create her without magic?"

"He didn't," Replied the phoenix. "If you must know, I perfected fusing mages and their familiars in one try, with only myselves as test subjects and our lives on the line. But that might as well be ancient history. After all, I did that before you were even conceived, little mage."

"What are you doing?!" Hissed Artelius. "Now he'll come after you, too!"

"Exactly," She replied in a whisper. "If you can distract him, he'll probably send Nihilus to fetch me, while leaving Oberon to search for your brother. But fire and ice is no contest. I'll deal with him, and then follow Oberon to where your brother is. Once we've got him, there's only one thing left to deal with before we've finished this permanently."

"Alright," Artelius said gravely. "I'll leave it to you, then. Good luck. And whatever you do, don't underestimate my father or his henchmen."

"...What?" The elder Nighthart raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you haven't... aged... Which means..." An unhinged smile broke out across the researcher's face. "I see. So this is what you were trying to hide from me, Arthur! A perfected life form, within my grasp... Finally, the secret to immortality will be mine! Tell me, Bound, how did you do it?"

"As though I'd reveal my secrets to someone as small-minded and cowardly as you," Mokou replied mockingly, spreading her wings as fire spread through her feathers. Giving them a single, mighty beat, she launched herself upward, the light of her flames illuminating her like one of the stars in the sky behind her. "If you'd have my knowledge, then let's have a test, shall we? The mettle of your creations, against my perfected nature!"

"I accept your challenge, girl! Oberon, keep searching for the spare. Meanwhile, I can take care of my fool of a son. And Nihilus... Why don't you finish the game you started earlier? You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Yay!" Squealed the young Bound with delight. "Alright, then, big sister! Here I come! Let's keep playing where we left off before!" Drawing his knife, he leaped along the rooftops. Looking at the ground below, Nihilus' eyes flashed red.

"Freeze!" He said, and then he jumped. Just like he had on the rooftop in their earlier engagement, the boy soared upward as though weightless, streaking straight towards the phoenix, who barely had enough time to dart to the left, evading the knife and responding by sweeping up her hand, releasing an arc of fire. Twisting around mid-flight, the boy's eyes flashed once again.

"FREEZE!" He laughed, the fire she had released instantly sputtering and dying as a shaft of ice crossed the space between them before Mokou could so much as move, encasing her extended arm in a solid block of crystals. Thinking quickly, she turned her arm to fire...

...Only to find it unresponsive. Her eyes widened as she began to understand what was going on. Nihilus had the power to freeze anything. Even her undying flames, and her immortal body, could be sealed within his ice, which would never melt no matter how much she bombarded them with heat. Absolute freezing, not just of objects, but of forces and energy as well. That explained how he was able to jump like that - he'd frozen the force of gravity! This wasn't a physical phenomenon she could just deal with. This was freezing on the conceptual level.

Flapping her wings, she launched herself backward, trying to keep her distance as the mad child rebounded off of an opposite building and came streaking back towards her. "Freeze!" He shouted again, and to her astonishment, in the instant he spoke, he vanished, re-appearing only inches away from her face, knife raised to strike. Before she had time to comprehend his speed, his blade was already piercing her shoulder, sending a spray of fresh blood into the night as he pushed off of her, sending her hurtling down into the alleys below. Spreading her wings at the last moment, she managed to right herself, skidding to a stop over the pavement as she clutched her wounded shoulder with her working arm, cauterizing it to stem the flow of blood.

Two red eyes gleamed amidst the darkness, and the mad child stepped forth, licking the blade of his knife with delight. "I got you!" He squealed. "Isn't this fun, big sister? Soon, you'll be with us, and then we can play like this all we like! After all, you're immortal... so it should be fine if I cut you up a bit!" Lunging forward, he struck a series of wild blows, forcing the phoenix on the defensive as she raised her ice-covered arm, batting the incoming strikes aside, the frozen appendage serving as a makeshift shield. Spreading her wings, she retaliated, sweeping her left wing down to strike the boy's face, a loud smack resounding through the alley, followed by an explosion of fire as Nihilus darted back, clutching his burned cheek and giving an unhinged cackle.

"Freeze, freeze, FREEZE!" He laughed, launching himself into the air before rebounding off of the wall of the narrow alley and soaring over the phoenix's head, two more flashes of scarlet light from his eyes striking her in the back. Spreading her wings, she tried to launch herself away, only to find her left wing and right leg unresponsive. They'd been encased in the mad boy's ice as well. Turning as best she could, she fired off a storm of feathers, each one turning to flames and streaking towards Nihilus as he landed.

"Freeze!" He roared once again, and each one of the incoming projectiles vanished as its flames died out. Repeating his invocation, Nihilus took a step forward.

...And instantly crossed the distance between them. One moment, he'd been standing at the opposite end of the alley, the next, his knife was plunging into her unharmed leg, slashing the muscles at the joint and causing the limb to cave way beneath her. Frantic now, Mokou spread her wing to release a blast of flames.

"Freeze," Nihilus said.

Phoenix fire exploded forth from her wing, only to sear into the far wall and nothing else.

Mokou gave a cry of pain as her wing was severed a moment later. By the time she had fired, Nihilus had already standing behind her, knife raised to strike. Laughing, he kicked her to the ground before launching himself into the air and vanishing into the darkness above.

How?! Wondered the phoenix, incredulous at how she'd missed at point blank. There was no way an individual, Bound or not, could move so fast. Each time it happened, Nihilus had invoked his eyes. That meant he had to be changing something before he moved. What was it? Distance? Speed? No, he had to be making something that was moving stop. Then... was it time? No, to stop the advancement of time itself would have taken far too much power for one person to accomplish. But perhaps... Was he altering time in relation to her? If he was freezing her in time it would be a simple matter to close the distance between them before the phoenix started moving again.

Their powers were supposed to be based in the five senses, however. While he could certainly feel gravity to freeze it, how could he perceive someone else's time? Maybe... was he only freezing her awareness? Every time he'd seemingly stopped time, she'd been focused directly on him. By meeting his eyes, she allowed him to perceive that she was aware of his movements. By freezing that, he could prevent her from observing him so long as he continued moving. But when he stopped to attack her, her awareness kicked back in, which was why she had always realized where he was just before he struck!

BGM: M22 - Yuki Kajiura

Forcing herself to one knee, she pushed herself up as best she could on her frozen leg, leaning against a wall for support as she rose. His attack pattern was getting predictable. He would close the distance, then strike to immobilize one of her limbs. He'd already taken out her wings, legs, and one of her arms, which meant there was just one chance left for her to counterattack. But this time, she knew what he was aiming for, and how he intended to strike.

"Fine, then," She said quietly. "You want my arm? Come and get it!" Raising her eyes to the sky above, she met the crimson gaze of the Bound boy as he began to descend, knife raised over his head to strike.

"Freeze!" He roared, a red flare blazing forth from his eyes.

But Mokou did not allow herself to be taken in by that light, and closed her eyes. The rushing of the boy's coat as he fell, the sound of the knife splitting the air as it plunged towards her... She gauged the distance with her keen ears, and in the same instant, swept up her hand, flames already dancing around her palm.

The knife struck her arm, only to pass through it as it turned to flame, before reforming into a limb once more and grasping Nihilus by the face, covering his terrible eyes from her view. Mokou's eyes snapped open, and a grin appeared on her face.

"Got you," She said with a smirk, the flames gathering themselves on two points, burning brighter than ever before.

"FREE-" Began Nihilus, but she would not let him finish his command.

"BURN!" She roared back, and released her flames.

Nihilus' voice faded into a wordless scream of agony as the fluid in his eyes boiled, melting back into his skull as she seared the focuses of his power clean from their sockets. His flesh twisted and warped beneath the heat of her flames as, weakly, she cast him backward, sending him falling to the ground, clutching the hollow sockets where his eyes had once been and shrieking in pain. The Phoenix gazed upon him with pity for one moment, and one moment only. He was only a test subject, someone who had been forced into this role, and been driven mad by it. But there was no salvation for him. Only release.

"Don't worry," She said quietly, taking up the knife he'd dropped. "I'll end your suffering."

And with that, she plunged the knife into his throat, and silenced his pathetic screams.

The ice covering her limbs shattered, the force that had sustained it perishing with its creator. The first battle was over, but already, she'd lost one of her wings, and even with her arm free from the ice, the wound in her shoulder would keep her from using it effectively. Although she could regenerate her leg and shoulder to an extent before facing Oberon, any fix she might make would be improvised at best, making her chances for victory doubtful. Nevertheless, the fairy master had already set out in search of the boy she had been hired to protect, which meant she only had one option. Sure enough, she could still sense him in the distance, the call of his power resounding throughout her mind as it narrowed in on its target.

She would follow him. That was the only option she had left.

And so, limping away from the corpse left in her wake, Mokou set out in search of her next opponent.