The Lost Chapters

Author's Notes: Recently, I purchased myself a new computer. My old one was getting rather beaten and worn, and it was so slow that not even Minecraft could perform optimally.

Why is this important? You may be asking yourself. The answer is pretty simple, I was rummaging through the old files I had on my old computer before I wiped the old laptop clean. All of these folders filled with story ideas, concepts for weapons/characters/plots/etc. Things lost deep within the recesses of a long forgotten 'Documents' subsection of my computer.

The story you are about to read is but one of these lost story ideas. I mulled over it for a time, some time ago. But I never actually had gone anywhere with it's development. Now that I've finished my main three character's story archs, I feel much more liberated, and more open to explore stories with them.

This story will feature key members of my pantheon of fan characters. What I'm kind of excited for, however, is what I plan to do with these characters. I've built some of them up for a while now, some more than others. It's time now for you, the reader, to question whether you actually know these characters.

And yes... I'm finally announcing my return from retirement.

Lost Chapters

Fingers clacked on the hard plastic of the keyboard, their sound echoing throughout the dark, secluded room. The only light found within the room came from an isolated corner, towards the back of the room. Files flew to the forescreen, the user of the computer deciding which documents to keep, and which to dispose of.

A door groaned in from the far wall, as a lithe man yawned, a cup of coffee in his hand. Sighing, he decided not to turn on the lights, instead he sleepily stumbled for the coach in the center of the room. Easing himself to the coach, the man took a swig of the bitter drink, lazing back for a moment.

The subtle droning of the keys slowly became more apparent to the man, as he cracked his right eye. Noticing the light in the corner, the man sighed, taking another swig of his coffee. Placing the beverage on the stand to his left, he stood, walking with confidence further into the dark room.

"Ah, there we are." a voice echoed in the room, causing the man to stop his advance.

"M-Morgan? That you?" the young man asked, looking objectively towards the shadows.

"You could say that." a red glow pierced the darkness.

"Jeez dude, not only have we not seen you around recently, now you're acting all cryptic and shit." the young man stood, unfazed by the crimson glow. "What're you even doing?"

"Something I think you might enjoy." Morgan's voice echoed, as all the lights in the room faded out. "Stick around."

/////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Alright Doc, I cave. What exactly is this thing?" Blaine sighed, as he stood there, cross armed.

Doctor Bailey, as playful as ever, had summoned the Spartan II to her little nook on the Infinity. For what, however, was anyone's guess. The Spartan was willing to place his money on the mammoth sized ring shaped machine in the center of the room, of course.

"That'll have to wait, Admiral." she said, a spark forming in her eye. "This is a monumental discovery, one that could change the course of Human progression!"

"-actually, it sounds like fanaticism at it's finest." Blaine murmured.

Doctor Bailey's arms coiled her torso in a fashion Blaine remembered well. Something about the woman's tantrums, despite her holding no significance to him what-so-ever, was frightening to him. Shaking his head, Blaine began to rub his hand along the back of his hair.

"Sorry, look. Why not stop beating around the bush and let the cat out of the bag?"

"I had hoped to never hear those words come out of your mouth, sweetie." Autumn chuckled, walking into the room, their toddler in her arms. "Especially to Doctor Bailey."

"Ah good," Bailey smiled. "Josh, Phil, and Morgan are on their way."

Almost on cue, the fireteam of Spartan IVs entered the room, saluting Blaine, before standing beside him.

"Everyone, thank you for joining me this evening." Bailey turned to the ring in the center of the room. "Today is a day of great discovery, a landmark for which all of Humanity will remember with pride."

"A celebrity having their junk removed? Historical landmarks being removed for bigotry, social groups being allowed to marry?" Morgan asked.

"No." Bailey grunted, glaring at the old Scotsman. "Those aren't discoveries, no, what I present to you is a Quantum Accelerator."

"Why do I get a bad feeling already?" Darryl shrugged, walking into the room.

"You shouldn't!" Bailey shook her head, rolling her eyes. "For fear of further interruption, I'll just get right to it. The Quantum Accelerator, despite it's namesake, is a working Time Machine."

"A Time Machine?" Darryl rolled his eyes. "Oh brother."

"Called it."

Autumn's elbow jabbed deep into Josh's chest, simultaneously as Morgan and Phil's.

"While that seems neat, how exactly does this assist us? If we were allowed to see the future, it wouldn't make life an adventure. Nevermind about going back in time and dramatically changing the future."

"Aha, I'm glad Blaine brought up the synopsis of the Butterfly Effect." Bailey pointed at the Spartan. "It's already been tested, and I stand before you. Nothing has changed since I first left to now."

"That you've been able to observe!" Darryl growled. "For all we know, Chickens could be Ducks."

"Is this a chicken?" Bailey said, producing a hologram of a white plummaged bird. "When I left this morning, this was known as a chicken."

"That's still one isolated reality check." Blaine crossed his arms again. "What exactly did you do back in the past, anyways?"

"I met my Great Great Grandfather, only I didn't tell him who I was. I met him as a stranger, I talked to him like he was a stranger."

"My question remains, Bailey, what significance will this hold for the UNSC?"

"We can go back to the time of the Old Humans, find out what caused the Flood. If they established a cure, we could bring it here!" Bailey smiled. "For now though, I figured a small field test with the lot of you could suffice."

There was a massive quake, and the room's various tools rattled on the tables, walls, and even the floor. The ring began to glow a very deep shade of blue, before a small red orb formed in the center. Red colored bolts of lightning crackled from the sphere, as it slowly swelled. Before there was time for anyone to react, the sphere expelled it's energy outwards.

Then, it was total blackness.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

"I sense dark days are ahead, Guardian." the Speaker placed a hand firmly on Lance's shoulder. "For both you, and your companion. I fear that, perhaps, you may even be disconnected from the Light."

"What do you mean, sir?" Chelsea replied nervously, her gaze meeting Lance's.

"I am unsure. But the Traveler sends me images, I see the both of you. You are reunited with people you once knew... curious."

"What? What is it?" Drake asked, beginning to get impatient.

"There's a reason they call me Sol" the Speaker said, in a voice that wasn't his own.

The Warlock and Titan yet again exchanged glances, as the Speaker shook his head, holding a hand up to his mask.

"Sorry, children. There is no cause for alarm, I am alright."

"We're not concerned about that, Speaker." Lance growled. "What was it that you just said?!"

"Lance!" Chelsea smacked the Titan on the back. "I'm sorry, Speaker. We're glad you're okay, but we need to know about that sentence you just said."

"Ah." the Speaker's tone became much more grim. "The Usurper plans to bring them back. Please, children, leave my side. I must consult with the Traveler."

"B-But what about the-"

"NOW!" the Speaker growled, as the Titan stood rigid.

Chelsea, unwilling to face the Speaker's potential wrath, practically dragged Lance out of the Speaker's quarters.

"Where is Arianna?" Chelsea asked. "I'd rather she gets us off world before the whole Tower comes after us. I've never seen the Voice so angry before."

"Isn't it funny how the 'Speaker' of the Traveler rarely has anything useful to say?" Lance growled, as the two of them walked across the bridge.

"Do you believe those words?" a familiar voice chuckled from their right. "I don't believe I taught you to be a heretic."

Lance's eyes opened wide, as he turned to face the voice. Chelsea smiled, as a trio of Guardians stood there. The first one, a Titan, crossed his arms strongly across his chest. The second, a Huntress, held her hands on her hips, while the third, a Warlock, held a small ball of purple energy in his hand.

"Y-you're..." Chelsea fell to her knees, as Lance's hands clenched.

"We're Fireteam Vanguard." the Titan stepped forward, as his sleek new helmet disappeared in a wave of Light.

Underneath the helmet, a pair of soft, brown eyes gazed at the two of them. A grin adorned the Titan's face, as he ran a hand through his hair.

"You're dead." Lance growled, as the Titan stepped forward. "I watched you die."

"You seem to forget something about us Guardians." the Huntress smiled. "We write our own Fate."

"Well, I also had something to do with it." Arianna poked from behind the Titan's shoulders.

"Drake and Lillian Stratus died. This has to be some sort of trickery. Crota absorbed their Light!"

"No." Drake shook his head. "I gave you Arianna to help you get out of there, never once did she bind to you. Lillian may have lost hers, but I kind of left the door ajar."

"Don't take all the credit, supes." Lillian smirked, removing her helmet from her head. "Gandalf over here helped a bit too."

"I suppose I never properly introduced myself." the Warlock shrugged, removing the helmet from his head. "I'm Jeremy Cloud, though, I doubt Chelsea needs to be reintroduced to me."

"Uncle Jeremy!" Chelsea's eyes watered as she ran over to her Great Uncle. "I've heard so many stories!"

Drake advanced towards Lance, as the young Titan shrugged him off. Lillian frowned, shaking her head, as Lance started to walk away.

"You're making a Legend for yourself, Lance." Drake said, walking alongside Lance. "I can't say I'm not proud of yo-"

"Save the formalities. You left us in that throne room! What did you think would happen if you DIDN'T kill Crota, huh?! You and Lillian, for whatever reason, decided to throw your lives away, and in the process, gambled for Chelsea's and mine."

"Like I said, I left the door open. Arianna was still binded to me, Lillian used her light to form a shield for me, which then binded to me. By sacrificing myself, I ensured you'd have enough Light between the two of you to escape, because I was certain Crota would fall."

"That doesn't explain how you're back here." Lance grunted, turning back the way he came, almost as if to shake Drake off of him.

"Upon my arrival in the Light, I met with a few Guardians. One of which was Jeremy. They spoke of a way to return to life, if they had enough Light to cross the thin veil between life and death."

"One of these such Warlocks was Osiris, the Exiled. He was known throughout all Guardian history as the first Sunsinger class Warlock, capable of bringing himself back to life through Solar Light. After I had been successful in killing Crota, my Light was highly radiant. I was able to disperse it."

"Osiris was more than willing to share his knowledge with Jeremy, in the time they had been stuck in the Void. When it came down to it, I bestowed some of my abundant Light to Jeremy. He brought himself back from the dead, proceeded down into the Hellmouth, the Hive cowering from fear of Crota's demise. He entered Crota's realm, summoned Arianna to my remains. When I was returned, Lillian, who is binded to my Light now, was brought back with me. With our combined Light, we escaped."

"When?" Lance growled, unconvinced.

"Just this morning, you didn't notice when Arianna disappeared for like, an hour?" Drake smirked. "Listen, I didn't want to upset you with it. You know me, I'm always an act first, think last kind of guy, it's what makes me the perfect Titan sometimes. I don't expect your forgiveness, but I do want you to know just how proud of you I am."

"Bonding time over?" Chelsea smiled, walking over, but stumbled for a second, as the Tower began to quake.

All eyes turned to the Traveler, as a golden aura overtook the giant orb in the sky. Raising their hands to their eyes, the Guardians of Fireteam Vanguard and Fist of Destiny watched as the aura became blood red, consuming them.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////

Silence was the one factor of the foreign area. Blaine groaned as found himself laying in the dirt. Feathery grass tickled his face, as he sneezed for a second, quickly removing himself from the soil. Sitting up, he gazed around. A couple of feet from him, he could make out Autumn laying still in the grass, Dawn sitting beside her, fiddling with her mother's hair.

In the opposite direction, Blaine could make out Morgan, Phil, and Josh. The three laid there, Morgan snoring the loudest of them. Blaine wasn't sure if it had been reflex or not, but he could see Josh's leg lash out and kick Morgan in the thigh. Funnily enough, the act did not seem to disturb the man.

"Laziness, it's a miracle you were able to even work with them." Darryl chuckled from behind him. "Makes me miss my lone wolf days sometimes."

"You'd miss them and you know it." Blaine said with a chuckle, before he realized something. "Where the hell are we?"

"You haven't noticed, have you?" Darryl ran his arm along his chest in a presenting fashion. "Our Mjolnir's gotten a bit of a major downgrade."

It was true, the armor Darryl *and upon further inspection, Blaine* was wearing looked more out of a Medieval museum than their Spartan armor.

"Okay, so Bailey's Time Machine sent us back in time, and reverted our Mjolnir armor too. Great."

Gazing about further, Blaine's eyes seemed a lot less clear the further he tried to glance. Shaking his head, he frowned.

"It also seems to have removed our augments, yes." Darryl sighed. "Best part is, I can't find that damn ring anywhere, so until she finds a way to send someone back that can bring us forward... we're fucked."

"Uncle Darryl said a swear wood." Dawn turned to face Blaine.

"Thanks for the cheery insight, pal." a familiar voice groaned from behind them.

"You again?" Blaine groaned, as he turned to face the white haired individual behind him.

"Bryce Howard in the flesh." Bryce smirked cockily, tapping his temple with his index finger. "Which means mister courage will be joining us-"

"Skip the introduction, smartass." Drake sighed, approaching them.

Behind the Titan, a group of four others stood, looking around in confusion. Blaine recognized only the woman with the red hair, and the young man who bared a very slight resemblance to Drake himself.

"Creator alive, I've never seen a bigger group of sleepin' people." a voice called from their far left.

Blaine turned his gaze to the familiar man on the horse's back.

"But my eyes do not deceive me, there was no blood shed in this field." Shadow smirked, as the black horse beneath him stood on it's hind hooves, kicking it's front hooves wildly in air. "Now the gang's all here, and you're just in time."

"In time for what?" Blaine asked, as Bryce and Drake stood beside him.

"Oh nothing." Shadow glanced at the back of his hand, before a red glow appeared in his iris'. "Just time to tell my OWN story."

This post is going to contain information useful to me, there isn't much in the way of spoilers. Just some important names I want to keep for reference.

Again, the below information is just for reference. You will find no spoilers, but you will not really gain much, as the content of the below box will shortly be brought to light anyways.

Spoiler:

"S-Shadow?" Bryce asked, taking a step backwards. "Why are your eyes glowing red?"

"SILENCE!" Shadow's voice boomed over the crowd, awakening those who had previously been sleeping.

Autumn groaned as she sat up, Dawn giggling as she continued to toy with her mother's hair. Josh and Phil yawned loudly, stretching their arms up, before standing, rigid.

"Where the hell are we?!" Josh barked. "Where did that bit-"

"Ah shuddup, will you?" Morgan groaned, slowly rising from his slumber. "Can't a guy get a little shut eye around here?"

"There are more pressing issues, then sleep, friend." Jeremy turned to Morgan.

Blaine, Drake, and Bryce clenched their fists, glaring at the man on the horse's back.

"Now that you are all awake, Bryce has asked the simple question of; Why?"

"That's not what I-"

"SILENCE!" Shadow roared, his voice sending the white haired man stumbling backwards. "In this realm I make the decisions!"

"You did that in the other realms to-" Bryce stopped, clutching his throat.

"Perhaps I should silence you permanently, do the entire world a favor."

Shadow's arm was outstretched, his massive hand clenched about the air. Squeezing a little harder, the group heard Bryce's pitiful attempts to gain his breath.

"You are right, in the other realms, I had control over all of your lives, but not of the worlds around you. I couldn't control the tides of the timeline, for that would throw everything into disarray. But here, now, I MADE this realm. Everything within it's limits, and beyond, are MINE to control!"

"You're mad!" Morgan barked. "Ya daft, power hungry cunt!"

Shadow's eyes snapped towards the Scotsman, as he flicked his outstreched hand towards him. Bryce gasped for air, as he was sent hurtling into the elder man, knocking the two of them to the ground.

"For years, I've culminated the perfect lives for each of you." Shadow growled with disdain. "Your childhoods were no picnic, in fact, I gave you each a personal hell to reflect upon. You were treated like pack mules-"

Shadow's gaze turned to Blaine, before shifting to Drake.

"-by the same people that would have the highest of expectations for you-"

Once again, the man's gaze shifted from Drake to Bryce.

"-only to be shunned by them, for even the slightest mistake. As you all grew, you used your painful pasts to mold you into the men that stand before me. Men that I molded with my own hands, men that would one day find love, marry, and have a family!"

Blaine's eyes darted back towards Autumn and Dawn, who looked to him for guidance. Clenching his fists, Blaine turned towards Shadow.

"Oh, did I strike a nerve? Come at me." Shadow growled, jumping off of his horse's back.

Blaine's eyes glowed gold for a millisecond, as he, Drake, and Bryce darted at the author simultaneously. Shadow smirked for just a moment, as the three disciples of GoldenHeart sprinted at him. Raising his right hand, a wave of energy slammed into them, throwing the trio several feet away.

Smirking with satisfaction, Shadow began to walk forwards, arms extended to his side. In his right hand, a orb of golden energy, and in his left, one of crimson.

"M'lord. Do not concern yourself with this lot." a man pleaded Shadow, having just arrived on horseback. "You have important business back at the Golden City. Permit me to finish these naives, while you ride forth."

"Ah, Gerald." Shadow paused for a moment, allowing the group to stand ready. "If you feel you can take on this group alone, so be it. But if word arrives of your death, know that your family shall forever be dishonored."

"Then I shall not die, sire."

Shadow placed a hand firmly on the man's shoulder, before mounting his dark brown steed, riding off down the dirt road. The group of people turned to see Blaine, Bryce, and Drake, all knocked unconscious in a heap.

Gerald began to step forward, as Darryl, Morgan, and Lillian stepped forward.

"You want them, you go through us." Morgan growled.

"It'd be easy." Gerald smirked at Morgan. "Considering how you lot are kitted. Not even one sword among you, nor a bow. Luckily for you, however, I am a friend."

Darryl cracked his neck, fists clenched and at the ready.

"For someone acting all buddy buddy with that asshole, I highly doubt that."

"You will not speak ill of the King of Prendaviel." Gerald flicked his eyes towards Darryl. "I know not from where you came, travelers. But until you become much more stronger, you will not be able to match those words."

"Had I actually intended you harm, I would not have stopped the King from slaying the lot of you."

"You have a lot to lose then," Lillian placed a hand on her hip. "If you would refuse your King's orders, then what do you gain from this?"

"The King was a good friend of mine, as he had been of yours. 'Course, I've known him since he was a wee lad. Though, recently, somethin' about him's changed."

"It must be Farius." Autumn looked around. "You all saw those red eyes."

"We can discuss this later. I am certain the King will send another force shortly to insure you all are dead."

"So... what's the plan?" Lance crossed his arms. "If you don't plan on killing us? Not that we'd let you, anyways."

"A fine question, lad. By refusing to kill you, the King will be most upset. There is a region to the South, about a day's walk from here. The King does not know of it's existence, but a party- an inquisition, is forming there. We will get these three there, then we'll plan from there."

"Can't we just get them to form GoldenHeart?" Autumn asked.

"You aren't aware, are you?" Gerald frowned. "GoldenHeart's dead."

As the party walked along, all eyes shifted to Gerald's horse, which trotted alongside it's master. Blaine, Drake, and Bryce had, uneasily, been thrown on top of the horse's back.

"Just because you're willing to help us, don't expect me to trust you." Darryl growled, walking beside Gerald.

"I understand that, and commend your bravado. Trust and respect is earned, not handed out. Something I really wish more people understood."

"Forget his bravado, is our boy going to be alright?" Josh snorted from behind Gerald.

"I'm no cleric, I would not be able to tell you. Few have had a run in with the Shadow'd King and lived to tell the tale." Gerald sighed, turning his attention to the three men on the horse. "You spoke of Goldenheart... how do you travelers know the swordsman?"

"These three... they each hold a piece of him." Autumn said, Dawn riding on her shoulders, both observing Blaine.

Gerald stopped, bringing confusion to the entire party. Many of which stood rigid, expecting something to be blocking their path.

"Impossible, what you speak is completely impossible." Gerald clenched his fist, gritting his teeth. "Like I said, the Golden Swordsman died out years ago."

"Goldenheart died... years ago?" Lillian asked, turning towards the horse.

"Yes," Gerald sighed. "It was a fight for the Realm of Prendaviel-"

////////////////////////////////////

Years Ago

King Morgan stood proud before the people of Prendaviel. At the time, the Kingdom had been united under a single flag. There were no regions, there was only Prendaviel.

The young King smiled, as he gazed out from the castle balcony to the lands beyond. Out in the distance, he could see the people, bustling to do their duties for the civilization by which he sat as the ruler. These people, however, did not seem oppressed. For he made sure that each and every man, woman, and child under his rule were well taken care of.

Sickness and poverty within the Kingdom were seldom seen, and when a report cropped up from his Generals, the King sought to find a solution to the problem. For the good of his people.

Overall, life had been pretty grand for the people of Prendaviel. Of course, that all came to a close when the ground opened up, to the North.

The ground began to quake, as the King held himself fast against the wall of the balcony. Closing his eyes and clenching his teeth, he glared in the distance, to the North, as rigid cliffs began to surge from the ground. His eyes opened wide, as a massive crevice formed in the distance, the shape of which resembled a hellbeast's mouth.

Out of the maw of the rock formation, legions of shadowy creatures emerged, sprinting for his Capital; the Golden City.

"Gerald!" Morgan's voice boomed throughout the courtyard. "Prepare the men! Man the defenses!"

"Aye, my lord!" Gerald nodded. "C'mon mates, get yer arses in gear!"

Morgan turned, hustling to the armor stand in the far corner of the room. Grabbing his helm, his chest plate, his shoulder pauldrons, and his leggings. Morgan took the time to fasten them securely to his person. Standing, the King bolted for the window, diving over the railing and to the courtyard below.

Gerald's eyes turned to face the King, whom landed on his right knee, fist flat on the ground.

It had been the first time I had ever seen the King like this, most of the time, he never wore his fanciest armor to battle. Most times, he stayed on the treybuchet with my other men.

When Morgan glanced upwards, Gerald took notice as a pair of brilliant Golden iris' pierced through the helmet. Standing, Morgan marched towards the gate.

"Open it." Morgan demanded, as Gerald stood, flabbergasted.

"Sire?"

"Open the gate, let me out there." Morgan turned, his piercing gaze both frightened, yet comforted Gerald. "I will not see my men slain, I shall stand as the first line of defense."

Gerald stared at the King for a moment, before placing his right fist on his left breastplate, bowing in respect for his King.

"If you are to go out there, you will need the assistance of your top general." Gerald grinned, nodding to the gatekeeper. "Open her up lad!"

Morgan nodded at Gerald, holding his right arm out, Gerald reached out, grasping Morgan's forearm, just after the wrist.

"I will lead the way, your Highness. Together, we shall see our enemies fall. As we clean the blood from our swords tonight, we shall rejoice." Gerald nodded.

"Glory to Prendaviel." Morgan finished the soldier's creed.

Gerald roared a mighty roar, before sprinting out of the gate first. The army of darkness was still miles out, but that did not deter the swordsman. Morgan snickered, as he marched out the gate, the keeper closing it behind him with little delay.

The soldiers of darkness grinned as the two swordsman encroached on their position, their morale growing with every second. Some distance from the castle, Gerald and Morgan stood, waiting for the enemy to come into range.

"Sire, you are not wielding a sword." Gerald remarked, turning to Morgan.

"I'm saving that spectacle for later." Morgan grinned, holding his right hand up, an orb of golden light forming. "This'll have to do for now."

The closer the enemy drew, the more tense Gerald stood. What they were doing was suicide, but it would dishonor his family if the King was left outside without an escort.

Morgan roared to the heavens, as golden sparks crackled around his right hand. The orb shimmered brightly, as he tossed it up, into the air. Jumping, Gerald covered his eyes as the wind pushed against him. Morgan, having jumped high enough to reach the orb, grabbed it once more in his right hand. Golden flames erupted from his eyes, as he span three times, tossing the ball like a shot put towards the army.

As the ball launched from his hand, to the time it reached it's destination, the ball expanded, before striking the ground. Gerald braced himself, as Morgan landed beside him, the force of the explosion the ball caused kicking up the dirt around them. Gerald, standing firm once more, watched as ink like fluid rained from the sky above them, showering the field.

Soon, the first swordsmen were on them. Gerald grunted as his sword clashed with the shadowy formation of a soldier of darkness' blade. Throwing a mighty left cross, his fist met the shadowy, yet solid creature, in the face, knocking it backward. Advancing, Gerald swung his blade across the beast's torso, slagging it in half. More of the ink like fluid splashed across his chest and the ground beneath his boots.

Advancing to his next target, he couldn't help but keep his eyes peeled for Morgan, whom took on a trio of the swordsman with his magic. Raising his right hand, and quickly slamming it back down, a ray of golden light slammed on one of the shadow beasts, erupting it into flames.

Swiping his left hand across, the ray of light slowly shifted towards the other two combatants. The shadow figures attempted to move, as Morgan's right finger pointed towards one of them.

"Bang." Morgan smirked, as a golden ray of light erupted from his finger, piercing it's head.

Watching the old King, Goldenheart, fight. It was magnificent. Fighting alongside him, I felt as if anything was possible. That death, no matter how hard it attempted to grasp me, it could not touch me. That feeling didn't last long.

There was a low grumbling in the air, followed by a mighty roar, as the Earth quaked beneath them again. From the cave, miles away, Morgan could make out a pair of dark red eyes, glowing from within the darkness. Surely enough, a winged beast soared from the cave in a flash, it's mighty wings kicking up the wind. Darkness creatures beneath it cheered, even as they were swept off of their feet from the force of the wind.

The beast roared mightily, a plume of black fire erupting from it's mouth. The Dragon swooped over the castle walls, the fire from it's mouth incinerating the brave men and women running the treybuchets, along with the weapons themselves. Morgan, in his distraction, grunted as a massive darkness beast with a club bashed him in the chest, launching him into the castle wall.

"My King!" Gerald roared, continuing to slice through his foes without mercy.

In the corner of his vision, he watched as Morgan sat there, on his hands and knees, clutching his stomach. Growling with annoyance, the young King spat on the ground, before standing, albeit uneasily. Marching his way forwards, Morgan reached his right arm out. Clenching his fist, it did not close all the way, as the pommel for a weapon formed in golden light. The weapon's handle continued to elongate, as he hoisted it over his shoulder, allowing the hammer to form.

Dragging it along the ground, Morgan's pace did not falter, as the brute creature chuckled in a mocking sense. Morgan's eyes flashed gold, as he swung the massive hammer with one hand. The flat head of the hammer made purchase on the brute's chest. A circle of dust flew off from the impact point, launching the beast miles backwards.

Gerald's eyes opened wide as Morgan cracked his neck casually.

"That hurt." Morgan growled. "Playtime's over."

Rushing forward, Morgan practically appeared to be teleporting from enemy to enemy, smashing them with his hammer. No matter the size of the foes, his hammer pummeled them out of existence. There was a thud to Gerald's left, as the Dragon smashed into the ground, crushing several of it's soldiers.

Morgan grinned as he watched the new target land, sprinting as fast as he could towards the Dragon, his hammer dragging along the ground. Morgan roared as he stopped on his left foot, swinging with all of his might up and into the Dragon's chest. The beast flinched, it's weight shifting backwards. Following up with another mighty swing upwards, Morgan caught it beneath the muzzle.

Jumping towards the beast, Morgan sprinted up it's scaly chest, the force of his blow knocking it's head upwards. Jumping off from it's chin, Gerald watched as Morgan's form became a mere shadow in the sky. Throughout the Kingdom of Prendaviel, people watched as a streak of gold ascended up to the sky like an arrow.

At the peak of his jump, Morgan glared downwards, anger in his eyes. Flipping forward, he turned the hammer around, it's pointed edge down. Swinging from his head down, all of his Kingdom watched as he shot, like an arrow, towards the Earth beneath him.

Gerald's eyes widened, as the roar of his King echoed throughout the land, almost as if it had lapped itself. The Darkness creatures around him glanced upwards, towards the source of the noise. Morgan, from Gerald's perspective, had become enveloped in a veil of golden light. The Dragon opened it's mouth to breath fire, but was unable to, as the pointed edge of Morgan's hammer lodged itself within it's skull, the force by which Morgan had fallen dragged the beast to the ground.

The second the two made impact with the ground, Gerald shielded his eyes, a massive cloud of dust raising into the air.

With the usurpers dead, I was uncertain if my King had survived or not. I am uncertain if the Dragon had been the source of their power, but the second it had died, the shadow soldiers just... vanished. I sprinted to the crater, hoping Goldenheart was alright.

Gerald's eyes widened at the lip of the crater, as he noticed a singular figure within the dust cloud. Leaning backwards, Gerald slid down the hole to it's base, where surely enough, the King had been located.

"Your majesty!" Gerald sighed with relief. "Don't worry, I will send for the clerics at once!"

"That won't be necessary, my General." Morgan coughed, before sitting up. "I feel right as rain."

I knew something was up, especially when his once blue eyes no longer shone gold. Instead, a blood red aura seemed to overtake him. Not long after that battle, things in the Kingdom began to change.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Here." Morgan pointed to the map, dead center of the Realm. "Lies the Kingdom of Moredon, it's capital, from where you stand. Is Galiea, the Golden City."

The seven other men and women in the room began nodding their heads in respect for the King, as he scanned over each and every one of them. Gerald stood as his personal guardsman, beside the King.

"You all are my trusted Thanes of the land. The remainder of Prendaviel will be split amongst you. You may rule these lands as you see fit, under the understanding that MY word is law. If you so much as try to change any of the laws I put in place from this day forth... you shall be made an example of."

"Thane Bartram, you will take the coastal province of Verith, which shall be formed to the west of Moredon."

Outlining the map, Morgan pointed to the province the newly named Thane would rule.

"You shall export fish to the other Kingdoms, at a rate of your choice. The majority of your profits will go to Moredon, where I shall distribute it as I see fit to the benefit of your Kingdom."

"Thane Ismay, you shall take the planed province of Ulendaw, which is formed to the south of Verith. You will become the agricultural staple of the Realm of Prendaviel. As with Thane Bartram, the majority of the income will go to Moredon, but you may charge the other provinces as you see fit."

"Thane Rex, you shall take the mountainous province of Dwelawen. This will be formed to our North, where those shadow creatures first appeared. There shall mines be established, where the majority of your exports and income shall be sent to Moredon to distribute throughout the Realm. Again, how you decide to treat the other provinces is your choice alone."

Thane Alicia, you shall take the other planed province of Thays. It will be located to Moredon's South. There, you will become our Farming province. You shall raise the livestock, and butcher them as needed. Necessities such as Milk or Eggs will become your main export, along with the meat of the recently slaughtered."

"Thane Helena, you will receive the province of Kaicia. This will be the primary housing province, meaning your main source of income will be the taxation of your people. Your people are to be trained to be clerics. As such, your province will be formed to the North-West of Moredon, so that your clerics can help the miners of Dwelawen."

"Thane Fawkes, you shall maintain the province of Nirared. Your province will stand to be our industrial, manufactoring province. You will take workers from the other provinces, and you shall build weapons for Moredon, and if the other provinces demands it, them. Your main exports will be wagons, carts, etc. As Nirared is more forest covered, you will also focus on wood crafting and the like. I am certain someone of your intellect will discover more to create. Your province is to our North-East."

"-and finally, my good friend Gerald. I offer you the province of Mireaweth. You will be located to the East, and while you will not find any major exports, your province is perfect for the training of Moredon and Mireaweth soldiers."

"What of the other Province, sire?" Rosalinda, a noblewoman, spoke up.

"Those wastelands?" Morgan chortled. "They belong to you, my lady. Although, I doubt you'll find much there beside peasants and death. You are free to even name it, if you wish."

"Celilia, your highness." Rosalinda smiled. "The Valley of Hope."

"Pfft, call that place of desolation whatever you want." Morgan scoffed. "Leave my presence, enjoy your new homes."

///////////////////////////////////////

Present Day

"So... what happened to Goldenheart?" Lance asked.

"He died, did you not listen?!" Gerald growled, having walked and talked with them throughout his entire story. "The man that left that crater was not the man that created it."

"Never mind him, he's stubborn." Chelsea smiled, walking beside Gerald. "You mentioned nine different provinces, where did we encounter the King?"

"We met in the heart of Thays, near the Capital; Farmstead. The King had requested an leisure ride through Thays to visit Thane Alicia, a good friend of his. We were just leaving when he encountered you, I had delayed only to see if you were foes to the King."

"Those three must've made it hard for you to tell, then?" Jeremy spoke up for once.

"I had my doubts when I saw them attack the King, but I also knew he had instigated the trouble." Gerald sighed. "We're not far from the City of Roses. That's where we're headed."

"Say, you mentioned another province earlier." Autumn quipped. "Is that where the City of Roses is?"

"Yes, the Province of Celilia. My good friend is high ranking within the Kingdom. The Province itself, as you will soon be able to tell, is nothing but a giant valley. I apologize, it will look like a hostile wasteland, but do not be mistaken, it's people are kind. This valley, as the Thane once said, will be named the Valley of Hope."

"There... we'll find the rebellion. Known throughout Celilia as The Silent Fist."

Again, this post is for self reference. You will gain nothing from reading the following text.

Spoiler:

Throughout the entire castle, the spine chilling sound of footsteps echoed throughout the halls. Workers within the castle's eyes widened as the cloaked figure marched towards the War Room. Some would turn away, fearing to gaze upon the man.

One woman, a maiden, shrieked as she tripped. Falling to the floor, she cowered as the cloaked man's footsteps stopped, just before her. Raising her right arm from her face, she peered up, seeing only a pair of downtrodden blue eyes.

"Can you stand?" the man's voice asked, sternly.

"..."

The girl cowered beneath her arms once more, as the workers in the hall stared at her. One loud, focused thud echoed throughout the halls, causing the girl to flinch once more.

"Men!" the man's voice echoed. "Someone find this young maiden a cleric to heal any wounds, and a place to rest."

The maiden once again looked up, as the man removed the hood from his head. Underneath, she could see his messy, shaggy brown hair. Wrapped neatly around his mouth was a squared goatee. His gruff features on his face intimidated her, but the look in his eyes was sincere.

Offering her a hand, she hesitated for a moment, before he gestured her to take it. Accepting his hand, she stood, uneasily. Gazing into his eyes, she felt some sort of pain overwhelm her. Shaking her head, she grasped at her forehead.

In that moment, a pair of the servants within the castle arrived. The man and woman offered the maiden a shoulder each, before leading her down the hall. Halting their progress for a moment, the maiden turned, casting her eyes to the floor.

"T-Thank you sire." was all she could muster, before her and her helpers walked away.

The King stood there for a moment, his eyes following the trio as they walked. To anyone with excellent eyesight, they could just barely make out the faintest of smirks creeping up his face. Glancing about his workers, the King's facial expression soured, as they all stared at him.

"Get back to work, the lot of ya!" he growled, his eyes flashing red.

Shuddering with fear, the multitude of workers hustled back into their rightful places. Morgan, whom had grown weary of wearing his cloak, slid it off, as he marched into the War Room. At the table, a single man stood. With a thrust of his right arm, the man crossed his arm across his chest, and bowed.

"My King." the man said.

"Has Gerald returned to his lands yet with the corpses of my enemies? It's been the better part of a day!"

"Our spies confirm the worst, your Highness." the man cowered, as he heard Morgan's knuckles crunch with anger.

"Were they, or were they not slain?!" Morgan barked.

"As of the time I received word, sire, they have not been." the Spymaster bowed further. "But we suspect he is bringing them to his Kingdom as prisoners, as we found several of them chained to his mount, sire."

"How many were on the Horse?" Morgan asked, his temper relieved slightly.

"We were unable to get a proper count. On the off chance Sir Gerald had gone rogue, we did our best not to be seen. The region of Thays where we had spotted him leaves little in the way of proper hiding spots. I should hear back from the few spies I have left out in the field by morning." the man retained his bow.

"Leave my side." Morgan growled, clenching his fist.

The Spymaster stood, only to bow shortly, before scurrying out of the War Room. Morgan marched towards the table, glancing at all of the different Provinces of his Realm.

"This Realm is mine to bear, mine to control. I am not bound by the rules of the real world. There will be no more pain, no more hatred." Morgan marched around the table, running his hand along the map.

"The Real World tried using Order and Justice. But it was only Anarchy and Chaos. In this Realm, I will bring Anarchy and Chaos, in the hope of bringing Order and Justice."

Turning away from the table, Morgan stepped over towards the paintings on the wall. Glancing at one in particular, his heart skipped a beat. Frowning, he cast his eyes down, refusing to stare at it any further.

"I tried to be the good guy. All that did was get the people I care about hurt." Morgan ran his hand gently along the canvas.

Glancing up, Morgan glanced at the image on the adjacent painting.

"Gerald, my most loyal General." Morgan's hand started up towards the painting. "-Or my most dishonest betrayer?"

Morgan chuckled, turning to the balcony in the corner. Passing by his combat armor, he stepped out into the crisp night air. In the far distance, in the land of Dwelawen, he could make out the mouth of the Cave of Despair. Waving an arm out in the distance, the 'eyes' of the Dragon shaped cave-face glowed red.

"Tick tock, Gerald." Morgan smirked, before turning away.

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

"Lance." Gerald turned his head to face the young man. "We're being tailed."

Lance began to look around, as Gerald's right hand lashed out to smash the young man in the face.

"Don't look around, spies crave that." Gerald sighed. "We're nearly within the city. Chances are, the spies here have not sent word. In about five minutes, I need to you fall to the ground, as if you're in pain. Understood?"

Lance was confused, but nodded nonetheless. The others, having overheard Gerald's hushed tone, kept their eyes forward. After some time, Lance 'tripped' falling onto his face.

"Dammit!" Lance exclaimed. "Oi! We need to take a break here. We've been walking all day!"

"Shut up." Gerald said, turning to his left to face the prone man.

In the distance, he could see a slender form, dressed head to toe in black, scurry behind a lone tree. Glancing around from left to right, Gerald kept his peripherals on the tree. Sighing, he 'kicked' Lance in the chest, Lance played along.

Darryl tensed, attempting to approach, as Autumn grabbed his shoulder, shaking her head. Pointing towards Dawn, who rested sleepily on her mother's shoulder. Darryl sighed, as Chelsea, Jeremy, Lillian, and Bryce helped Lance to his feet.

"The kid is right though, there is no point in making slaves out of you, if I'm going to break you before I get you there."

Pointing to the tree, Gerald huffed for Lance and Darryl to go over with the others. Turning back to the Horse, Gerald regrabbed the leads for the animal, before leading it to the tree with them. In the corner of his eyes, he could make out the figure running silently into the far off fields.

Reaching into his horse's side satchel, he produced a hand sized crossbow. Taking precise aim, he fired almost immediately, the bolt flew through the air. Within the night, all they could hear was a thud. Tying the horse to a root, Gerald tilted his head towards the fallen spy. Darryl followed Gerald, as the two of them approached the man.

"What business do you have following me?!" Gerald barked, as the Spy groaned, crawling her way forward.

Pressing his boot down on the bolt stuck in her leg, the woman winced. Using his boot, he flipped the woman onto her back.

"I'll ask again, you would be wise to answer." Gerald growled, his sword readied faster than Darryl could imagine. "What business do you have following the Thane of Mireweath."

"I'll never talk!" she hissed, as Gerald's sword gently poked her throat.

"I can ensure that." Gerald hissed. "But not until after you tell me what I need to know."

Taking his sword from her throat, Gerald planted the tip of it into the earth, just between her right hand's index and middle fingers. Darryl's eyes widened with surprise, however, as he realized the swordsman had done so without even removing his eyes from her.

The woman noticed it too, as she squirmed a bit on the ground. Gerald removed the sword, preparing to drop it on her hand, his boot still pressed firmly against the burrowed bolt. The woman's eyes glanced at Darryl, who couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He couldn't trust a spy, but as far as he had been concerned, he wasn't too trusting of Gerald either.

"I'd do what he says." Darryl spoke suddenly, as the woman's big brown eyes turned to him. "For both our sakes."

Shifting her eyes from Darryl, back to Gerald, she closed her eyes with a frown.

"I'm dead anyways." she said, as she reached for something on her belt.

Darryl's eyes widened, as he pushed her arm away. Holding his right hand up, staring intently at Gerald.

"You won't die, if you help us out." Darryl turned his eyes to her, and then back to Gerald. "Right?"

"I don't trust a spy." Gerald huffed.

"-And I still don't trust you, asshole." Darryl growled. "But here we are."

"You would defend a woman whose sole purpose is likely to aid the King?!"

"I defend those I feel are innocent." Darryl turned to the woman. "It was a vow I was sworn to do many years ago. Protect Humanity."

"Killing an unarmed woman is not the sign of Humanity, it is MONSTROUS." Darryl continued. "Now allow me to ask; what is your purpose for following us."

The spy stared at Darryl for a time, as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I'm as good as dead. I was captured, even if I told you what I know, and you spared me. The King will know, and I will be killed."

"Think of it this way, then. Had you died, would the King's views on you have changed any?" Darryl asked. "Would he think of you as some noble, brave woman who did his bidding, and died loyal? Or would he view you as a pawn?"

"If the King you serve cared about you, would he attend whatever funeral your family held for you?" Darryl's stared intensely at her. "You mean nothing more to the King than a martyr. That's not right."

The spy's eyes welled up with tears more, as she pondered what Darryl had told her. Dropping the dagger she had been reaching for, she wrapped them around her torso.

"Let's take baby steps." Darryl said, glancing at Gerald, who looked mildly impressed. "Start with your name. I'm Darryl."

"I'm Anna." she sniffled. "Anna Mayflower."

"Good, it's nice to meet you, Anna." Darryl nodded. "You don't have to return to the King, you can come with us. If you fear you're going to die, then at least spend it helping the people that fight for the People."

"My group and I were sent to determine whether the High General had slain your group or not." Anna frowned, casting her eyes down, as she sniffled again. "The others left, in fear of getting caught. Look at how that turned out."

"I-" Gerald began, as Darryl growled, Gerald stopped.

"How long ago did they disembark?"

"A couple of hours, well before sun-down."

"What information are the members of your party armed with?"

"They know that Sir Gerald did not slay you immediately. But we were unsure if Sir Gerald would escort you to Mireweath to become slaves, or if he intended to betray the King."

"A shame you will not have your answer." Gerald huffed.

"Gerald has some credibility to his words. You are a Spy, which means that, in our sense of preservation, we cannot allow you to live." Darryl sighed, as Gerald prepared his sword, Anna flinched.

"However, if you align yourself with us. Keep yourself out of mischief. I see no reason why you can't be spared." Darryl said, Anna's eyes opening wide. "Be warned, however. There are no second chances with this offer. Any mischievous acts, and I'll turn the other way... if you know what I mean."

Anna nodded, wiping her cheeks. Darryl offered a hand, helping her to her feet, while Gerald removed his pressure on the crossbow bolt. Anna winced, the bolt had not cleanly gone through. Darryl frowned, as he looked at the young woman.

"It'll hurt, but it'll help."

Before she could ask, Darryl stomped down on the tip of the bolt. Anna groaned in pain, but the bolt head snapped off. Grabbing the back of the bolt, Darryl pulled the rest of the object out. Helping her walk over to the tree, Darryl didn't even notice that Gerald had not followed him.

Instead, the swordsman genuinely smirked. He was impressed at how Darryl had handled the situation, and he was truly glad that the man had stopped him. Placing his right hand over the bridge of his nose, Gerald frowned. He had nearly killed the young woman, solely for the fact that she was a spy to the King.

Never once had he accounted that she was just as bad off as the rest of the people of Prendaviel, a victim to the Dark King's rule. Perhaps she accepted the job to pay for family, or schooling as a cleric. Was he any better than the Dark King? Killing without mercy, when he had spared the others in the group not even twenty four hours before?

Glancing to the North-West, he knew the Providence of Moredon lied well beyond the plateau. Where the King continued to do his bidding, at the cost of his people.

"Why have you changed so much." Gerald sighed.

Walking back to the tree, Gerald watched as the group of what he assumed to be strangers, all talk amongst themselves as if they had been friends. The one called Chelsea sat with Jeremy and Lance. Those three talked with the one called Autumn, who was busy gently rubbing the hair of the little girl sleeping in her lap. Darryl eased Anna down, crouching beside her to ensure she was okay.

Looking at the men on the horse, Gerald frowned.

"The City of Roses is not far now." Gerald said. "I would say another two hours. But because I'm certain you are all tired, we can rest for the night. The Silent Fist is thriving without us as is, I'm sure they can wait a while longer."

A few hours later

Darryl signed as he cracked his neck, he had opted to stay awake for the group... on the off chance Gerald had attempted to betray them. Glancing around, he was elated to see that Morgan, Josh, and Phil had opted to stay awake too. He hadn't seen them when they first approached the tree, and he had been a little concerned as a result.

"You still awake?" Gerald asked, as Darryl turned to face the swordsman.

"You'll have to excuse my hesitation to sleep in foreign lands."

"Fair enough." Gerald nodded, before sitting beside Darryl. "Which reminds me, how did you all get here anyways?"

"If I could tell you, you wouldn't have to worry about us being here long. 'Cause I would've found us a way back."

"Again, fair enough." Gerald pulled his sword, gently running a stone across the edge of the blade. "You ever held one of these before?"

"Held something similar, only it wasn't metal. Where I'm from, the only swords I've encountered were made of plasma."

"Plasma... such a strange name. What is plasma?"

"Super hot material. Could cut through your sword, and your torso in one swipe."

"Swords like that exist?"

"Where we're from, yes." Darryl nodded, pointing to Blaine, Autumn, Morgan, and the others.

Gerald nodded, not saying a word past that. Yawning slightly, Gerald lazed back against the tree. The two sat there for a time, while Darryl took a quick glance at Anna, whom had curled up beneath the tree, to his immediate left.

"It's almost as if you had done that before." Gerald mused. "Interrogations, I mean."

"I've been through my fair share, and given the chance, I probably would've been more like you." Darryl sighed.

"Yet you didn't, why is that? If I may be so bold?"

"'Cause I saw the helplessness in her eye. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, a victim of a unwinnable war. She isn't saying much about her past, but I'm willing to be a stack of credits that she had a bad childhood. Joined your King's spy guild to prove something to either herself, or the people that wronged her."

"I once found myself thinking like that." Darryl silently chuckled to himself. "If it weren't for Blaine and his unique charisma, I'd likely have broken years ago. Isolated, constantly reminded that, in the end, I am nothing but a pawn to a war machine."

Gerald nodded, his childhood hadn't been the greatest either. In fact, he had joined the would be King's military to be alongside one of his oldest friends, but also to prove to himself that he wasn't weak, or useless.

"I don't fully understand, and Creator, I hope I never do. But you have my sympathy, if you will accept it." Gerald sighed.

"Darryl, by the way." Darryl turned to the swordsman. "You'll have to excuse my brashness earlier, these people, they're like a family to me. I guard my family with all my being, it's in my blood."

"A pleasure." Gerald nodded. "Sir Gerald, Thane of Mireweath. Ex-General to the Dark King's military presence in Prendaviel. For the sake of keeping wind within your lungs, however, just call me Gerald."

"Got it, Gee." Darryl smirked, lightly nudging Gerald on the shoulder.

"No, I just sai-"

"Ease up there. It's all in jest, Gerald." Darryl chuckled.

To their left, one of the men on the horse began to shift. Gerald's eyes widened as he and Gerald stood. Darryl exchanged glances with Gerald, before they approached the mount.

"Damn." Blaine groaned. "I feel like I slept on a damn horse."

"You did." Darryl chuckled. "The three of you homos... and for the better part of twenty hours. Guess the Author kicked the shit out of you pretty damn hard, eh?"

"You try being the anchor for a being created by the same guy that created you, me, and even this guy..."

At that moment, Blaine realized that a complete stranger stood before him. Tensing himself, he slid off of the horse's back, flipping quick enough to land on his feet. Before he could move, however, Gerald's hand was on the hilt of his sword.

"Woah, ease up there big guy!" Darryl said, placing a hand on the chainmail Blaine was wearing. "He's the guy that totally saved our asses. Took me this long to trust his ass, but he's good."

Blaine snorted, before his eyes darted around. In the corner of his eyes, he could make out Autumn sleeping soundly, Dawn having wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. Blaine smiled, nodding some sort of affirmation to himself.

"You kept my family safe, boyo. If Darryl the hard ass is good with you, you're good in my book. Blaine, Blaine Harlowe."

"I see. I am Sir Gerald-"

"Just call him Gerald. Trust me." Darryl smirked, as Gerald sighed, nodding.

"Everyone accounted for?" Blaine asked. "Even Drake's new friends?"

"Yep. Even got one more." Darryl said, cocking his head towards Anna, whom still slept beneath the tree. "Spy for the King. Got her to switch alliances... so we hope."

"If I may have a word?" Gerald asked, looking at Blaine.

"Not too far. Just because I exchanged formalities don't mean anything." Darryl warned.

"We've been over this, but fine. We'll stay within eyesight. I will explain everything."

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

Some time later

"So Morgan's gone corrupt, eh? I figured something wasn't right with him." Blaine frowned. "That really sucks though. Considering how, if he wanted to, he could just delete us from existence."

"Oh, not in this realm." Gerald shook his head. "From my limited time reading the Creator's scriptures, it is said that all of his creations within this realm are protected from the act of deletion. Unless it be his will."

"If what you say is true about my King, then his powers to control your fate are limited in this realm. Perhaps he manifested them into some other power, but had he held the power to actually remove you from existence, you would not stand here before me." Gerald said.

Gerald and Blaine stood there for a moment, their backs turned to the group. The two glanced to the North-East, where about two more hours from their position was their destination. Gerald glanced down at the hilt on his hip. Producing the blade, Blaine tensed, until he saw Gerald flip it, offering it to him with both hands.

"Your friend Darryl tells me that you have swords of Plasna in your realm. If what he says in true, I wish to see your skills with a steel blade."

Producing the shield from his back for once, Gerald held it at the ready. Blaine flipped the sword around in his hands for a bit, before looking at Gerald.

"It's PlasMa, for starters- and while we do have the swords in our 'realm', we rarely ever touch them." Blaine said. "But if these are all I've got in this realm, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Oh, it'll hurt." Gerald scoffed. "I don't go easy, even on trainees."

"I'm a High ranking soldier myself, boyo. Don't underestimate me."

Preparing himself in a pose, Blaine clenched his left fist. Gerald stood rigid, holding his shield up in a ready position. The two began to circle each other, as Darryl, in the distance, stood. Blaine held a hand up, as Gerald nodded. Within a flash, Blaine pounced forward, slashing with his sword.

Gerald's shield clashed with the weapon, knocking it aside. Returning his own blow, Gerald's fist went straight for Blaine's ribs. Blaine, whom had anticipated a counter, used the momentum from the block to his advantage, using his left arm to block Gerald's fist. Spinning on his heels, Blaine's sword slashed across, Gerald swooped backwards.

"Impressive." Gerald smirked, producing a dagger from his waist. "I swear that, if my blade hits you, it will be the dull edge. It'll sting, nothing more."

Returning to their original stances, Blaine feigned a slash with his sword. Gerald took the bait, swinging his shield across to deflect. Without the blade to deflect, however, Gerald over compensated. Reeling it back in, however, Gerald slashed with the dagger. Blaine jumped backwards. Bringing his left boot up and into Gerald's chest, the swordsman grunted as he reeled backwards.

Swinging down with his sword, slow enough that Gerald could react, Blaine anticipated the dagger. Spinning on his heels again, he swung the sword around again, knocking the top of the blade. Gerald stepped backwards, as Blaine used the momentum from his spin to bounce backwards himself. Lunging forward, Blaine shifted his weight to the right to avoid the dagger, but forgot about the shield.

Groaning, Blaine found himself on his back, Gerald's boot on his chest. Rubbing his forehead, he felt a welt forming where the shield had bashed him.

"Not bad. I would say you have decent technique with a blade." Gerald grinned. "You have much to learn, and I am more than willing to teach."

Offering a hand, Gerald grunted as he hoisted Blaine back to his feet. Blaine handed the sword to Gerald in a similar manner, the swordsman graciously accepting his weapon back. Turning back to their tree, the two chuckled as the group, minus Bryce and Drake, awoke to their little spar.

"Daddy?!" Dawn's excited voice carried to their position.

Walking back with Gerald, Blaine took a knee, as his daughter awkwardly ran as fast as a little kid could towards him. Wrapping his arms snuggly around her, he stood, swinging her in a wide circle around him.

"Heya kiddo. Miss me?"

"Yeah!" Dawn sniffled into his ear. "You slept for so long, you never sleep so long."

Autumn smiled, walking over towards him. Wrapping his spare arm around her, the family of three embraced, finally reunited. Gerald smiled warmly, as Lance, Chelsea, Jeremy, and Lillian all stood. Anna attempted to stand, but winced as her ankle festered from her wound. Darryl frowned.

"Damn, I forgot to properly tend the wound." Darryl growled, smacking himself on the forehead. "I'll need a compress, and some gauze."

"If she can hold out for a few hours, we can get her to some clerics. It'll be as if the wound was never there." Gerald shrugged.

"Not good enough." Blaine shook his head, handing Dawn to Autumn.

Examining the wound, Blaine clenched his fist.

"It's heavily infected. I can barely make out a few splinters of wood still firmly lodged inside. I dunno what your 'clerics' are capable of, but if this wound doesn't find proper treatment, and soon, she could lose the foot."

The group became silent, as Anna gasped. Frowning, a well of tears started to form in her eyes. Looking to Gerald, she smiled, albeit shortly.

"I appreciate the offer to spare me. But even if you cut off my foot, I'd only slow you all down."

"No." Darryl shook his head, turning to Gerald. "Clerics, what exactly are they?"

"Powerful mages, or people capable of performing magic that are versed in life giving arcane wisdom."

Chelsea stood, as Lance reached a hand out. Brushing it aside, she walked over, crouching beside Blaine.

"In our Realm, I was kind of a Mage. I could produce void light, which was kind of magical. Perhaps I can try something here."

"Even if you were capable of magic, it takes years of study to be a cleric." Gerald sighed. "If this 'void light' you speak of could heal wounds, you may have a shot."

Lillian turned to the horse, frowning at the sight of Drake.

"Drake's Defender techniques could probably work then. He can manipulate void light to bolster defenses and heal people."

"What about Jeremy, he's a sunsinger Warlock. Perhaps that could work."

"It's life giving, but it's not healing." Jeremy replied. "It's more like necromancy than life bearing. I'd rather not take the risk.

Lance clenched his fist, before walking over to Chelsea. Holding his left hand out, she took his hand. Both of them reached their spare hands towards Anna's ankle. Lance closed his eye, channeling whatever light he still felt within himself into his hand. Chelsea, who had an abundance do to her Warlock capabilities, helped boost his power.

Anna whimpered as the wound started to glow white momentarily. Gerald's eyes opened wide, as Lillian smirked with pride. The wound, as the light grew bright, began to seal itself, whatever splinters of wood caught within dropped to the earth below. After a moment, the light disappeared, as the group lightly cheered.

Lance huffed and puffed, however, the majority of his spare energy having been used on healing the wound. Chelsea sat there, unfazed, some of her energy sapped in helping Lance do his thing.

"So we have a few Mages in our midst." Gerald nodded. "This is better than I expected."

"I'm no magician." Lance huffed. "I can just channel the same energy."

"It sounds like you'd be a perfect Paladin, then." Gerald nodded. "I was once known as a Paladin, but I gave up the ability to channel magic when I discovered it took more energy then I would like."

"Well, the wound is definitely better." Anna mused, as Blaine examined it.

"I'm no doctor, but the few times I played field medic, I've had to deal with situations like these. I think it might be wise if you take my place on the horse for the duration of the journey." Blaine sighed. "Don't want to over work your ligaments, cause permanent damage."

Anna nodded, as she slowly began to stand. Darryl, however, hoisted her into a fireman's carry over his shoulder. Placing her gingerly on the horse's back, beside Bryce and Drake.

"Perhaps we should try helping out Drake and Bryce, now that we know Chelsea and Lance are capable of healing people." Jeremy suggested.

"No Uncle, Lance has taken too much trauma already. Whatever's keeping them knocked out is much more than an ankle wound." Chelsea shook her head.

"I couldn't agree more." Lance huffed.

"Then we shouldn't delay further." Gerald produced his sword. "We continue onwards to the City of Roses!"

Meanwhile...

City of Roses, Celilia, Prendaviel.

Silence was the one word that could describe the temple. It had been early in the morning,  far too early for most people to be awake. Not for one woman, however. An elderly lady sat at a lone table towards the back of the main hall.

Known throughout the Region of Celilia, Mother Franz Tulip was versed well in the scriptures of ancient scribes. To these people, she stood as a beacon of hope in the dark days surrounding Prendaviel. People from all regions throughout the realm visited her, seeking her knowledge.

She did not preach religion, however. The temple was not constructed for a diety. It was a monument of the life the people had been given, but they did not worship the one responsible. Rather, it was a kind gesture meant solely to show appreciation.

Humming quietly to herself, Mother Tulip flipped through one ancient tome. Smiling with glee, the elderly woman hardly noticed as a much younger, vibrant woman approached her.

"Mother, I must speak with you." the woman's voice echoed throughout the temple.

Mother Tulip smiled, before gently raising a feather, placing the very top of it in her current page. Closing the book, she turned her full attention to the very well dressed woman approaching her.

"Anything for you, child." Tulip stood with a little difficulty.

Shuffling her way towards the young woman, the elderly woman held her arms out in a beckoning fashion. The young woman gingerly wrapped her arms around the elder.

"A friend is coming Mother. I received a tele-letter from him this morning." the woman said, bowing her head. "I seek your wisdom."

"Why of course, deary." Tulip broke the embrace, running her right thumb along the younger woman's cheek. "Ask away. What appears to be troubling you?"

"In his message, he spoke of people rebelling against the Crown."

Tulip's eyes widened momentarily, before her face returned to her bright, calm self. Patting the younger woman on the head, Tulip lead her to a spare chair by the small crackling fire.

"I see, I have heard of such an uprising springing here in the City. Do they mean you harm?"

"No, Mother Tulip. My fear is not in the people he spoke of. Today, the King's men will come to receive whatever tax Celilea owes Moredon. Just on my way here, I overheard a trio of his Guard talking of a group of people that even fought the King."

"I see. Do you fear that the people of this land will be attacked by the King if those people arrive?"

"Yes, Mother." the woman frowned, bowing her head.

"You mustn't be afraid, child." Tulip nodded sagely. "The King, if I know him, will not attack innocents for the actions of the guilty."

"But Moth-"

There was a loud slam at the front of the Temple. The young woman yelped as she turned in her seat, a trio of heavily armored men stood there. One of them crossed his arms along his chest, a cocky grin on his face. The two standing beside him stood in a pose, as if to show off the head man.

"That's quite enough of that discussion."

"This is a very important temple, I insist you leave immediately!" Tulip stood, quite upset.

"That's cute, gran gran." the lead man snarked, marching forward, turning his head to the other two. "Search the place."

The two nodded to their leader, swiftly scouring the main hall for any signs of hiders. When they were unsatisfied, they ascended the stairs in the furthest most reach of the hall to the upper atrium. The leader, however, continued his march to the two women.

"So, you know the whereabouts of the missing people?" the leader growled to the younger woman. "I just got a tele-letter from the King himself. Said a mighty fine bounty is on those guy's heads, and the bastard escorting them."

"You should be ashamed, cursing in the presence of ladies."

"Suck a fat one, granny!" the man growled, bringing the back of his left hand across her cheek.

"The nerve of that broad. They don't call me Jerrick the Manic for nothing!" the man boasted. "I may work for the King, but I also do what's necessary to make a bit of a fortune, 'specially in these hard times. So I'll ask again, where'd you say these shmucks were coming from."

"I'll never tell, I'd rather die!" she shrieked, as the man smirked, grabbing her shoulders.

"That can be arranged." he chuckled sadistically. "But a little fun first..."

Tossing her to the right, she yelped as she sprawled out on the floor. Wincing from landing on her right arm, she turned to see him slowly walking towards her. His tongue gently slid across his lips, as he menacingly reached out towards her. When his right hand made contact with her right foot, she yelled out.

Jerrick chuckled as he turned her around. The woman continued to beat on his chest, before he pinned her to the ground. Staring into her eyes, she whimpered as he licked his lips again. Closing her eyes, she flinched as he lunged forward. Behind her, she could make out some strange noise, but she didn't care.

"Who the hell-"

Opening her eyes in the nick of time, the young woman watched as a man's right knee went straight into Jerrick's nose. The woman watched as her assailant's head snapped backwards, blood began surging from it, the cartilage clearly broken. Swiftly, and without any time for Jerrick to respond, her rescuer's mighty right fist struck Jerrick square in the chest.

The woman silently cheered, the wind rushing from Jerrick's lungs from the blow. Her hero hadn't stopped there, however, his massive hand grabbed the back of Jerrick's head. Before her hero could counter, however, Jerrick growled with annoyance, shoving his assailant into a nearby bookshelf. Her hero, however, brushed off the attempt, smashing Jerrick's head against said bookshelf.

Tackling Jerrick to the ground, the man held him down. Jerrick snickered however, as he reversed them, flipping her hero onto the floor. Growling with annoyance, Jerrick smashed fist after fist into the man's face.

"Dont. You. Know. It's. Rude. To. INTERRUPT!" he growled, speaking each word in between his punches.

The man on the floor's eyes flickered for a second as he grinned. Reaching up with both hands, her hero brought Jerrick's already broken nose up and into his forehead. Jerrick grunted as his head whipped back again. Taking this moment, her hero took a knee, shoulder tackling Jerrick to the ground again.

"We sharing notes now, boyo?" her hero spoke for the first time, hands wrapped around Jerrick's throat. "Here's something you should know about me. I don't like pervs. Y'know what I do to pervs?"

Smashing his head into Jerrick's again, the young woman watched the pervert feebily try to raise his hand in defense. Her hero glared angrily at Jerrick, before cocking his right fist. Thrusting the punch downwards, Jerrick yelped as the massive fist caught him square in the chest.

The weight behind the punch however, cracked several ribs. The sickening slosh of some liquid splashing the floor around them. Jerrick stared in horror, as the woman's hero's hand hung inside of his chest cavity. Smirking cockily, the onyx haired hero held Jerrick's throat with his free hand.

"I RIP THEIR FUCKIN' HEART OUT!" pulling with all his might, Jerrick's eyes practically bulged, as he felt his heart stop for a millisecond.

Soon, Jerrick's motions ceased to exist, her hero sitting there, arm deep within the pervert's chest. Removing his fist, the man shivered with disgust as he wiped the gore off of his arm on Jerrick's tunic. At that point, however, she hadn't realized that a pair of hands were gingerly on her shoulder, pulling her away.

Not paying attention to that, however, she watched as Jerrick's two cronies jumped over the balcony. Rolling after landing, they both drew their swords. Eyes widening, the woman opened her mouth to speak.

"Blaine, look out!" another feminine voice called from behind her.

In a flash, Blaine's right foot kicked down, hitting the hilt of Jerrick's longsword. The sword concealed inside unsheathed itself, flipping in air three times, before the man caught it. The two cronies rushed him, as the pair of hands on her shoulders disappeared.

"Don't fret m'lady, you're safe now."

"I wouldn't recommend that, man." another man called from behind the man behind her. "He works better by himself."

Her eyes turned back for a moment. She recognized the man who had had his hands on her shoulders, but her mind had been so scrambled she didn't care who it was. The party of people behind him were completely unfamiliar to her, however. Turning back towards her hero, Blaine held his sword.

"That's a strange stance. You never hold a sword before?" one of the cronies chuckled. "This'll be easy!"

"Seems easy now." Blaine shrugged. "But you'll be pissing yourselves in embarrassment when I hand you your words on a silver fuckin' platter."

One man growled, lunging with a stab towards Blaine. With almost inhuman reflexes, Blaine flipped over the blade. Lashing his right elbow backwards, he caught the first guy square in the jaw. The man recoiled in pain, allowing Blaine to focus solely on the guy in front of him.

The man swung his sword, Blaine's new arms clashing with it. Sparks filled the air between them, Blaine's forehead smashing into his foe's. On the attack, Blaine's spare hand batted away the guard's sword. Roaring angrily, Blaine swung slice after slice across the man's chest, blood oozing from the wounds. Ducking for a second, the young woman heard one of the men behind her chuckle as the first guard's wild swing narrowly avoided Blaine's head, instead slashing the throat of the second.

Turning on his heels, Blaine swung a low punch to the first guard's crotch. Hunching over in pain, the man brought his right knee up and into the guard's face, snapping his foes head backwards. Continuing his offensive, the man was able to slash once across the guardsman's chest. Gritting his teeth, the guard lashed his spare fist out, knocking Blaine backwards.

Swinging violently, over exerting his steps, Blaine's eyes widened as he attempted to dodge each blade. Standing firmly, Blaine roared as his left fist surged forward, catching the guard square in the throat. Bashing his foes sword aside again, Blaine took a mighty step forward, slashing his foe's sword hand off of his body. The guard wailed in agony, Blaine continuing his rush. Slashing downwards, he slagged the guard's other hand off.

Bringing his boot up and into the guard's chest, she watched with amazement as the man practically rolled across the floor from the blow. Blaine hadn't given up yet, lifting one of the severed hands off of the floor, the guard attempted to stand, deciding to fight until the end. Flipping the sword in his hand, Blaine used the hand guard of the blade like a pair of brass knuckles. Punching the man in the lower abdomen, the guard lurched forward, nearly emptying the contents of his lunch onto the ground.

Before he could do that, however, Blaine stuck the fingers of the severed hand into the man's mouth. Panicked, the guard was broken, battered, and more importantly, beaten.

"Hands, words, doesn't matter." Blaine growled, before swinging the sword up and into the man's chest cavity, impaling him. "Especially to a dead man."

Pushing the now still guard off of his sword, Blaine flicked the residual blood from the blade, before examining it. Turning back to Jerrick's corpse, Blaine retrieved the belt he had received the sword from, and quickly fastened it to his pants. Turning his attention to the still elderly woman, Blaine crouched low.

"You gonna be okay, ma'am?" he asked, beside Mother Tulip.

"Yes deary, thanks to you." she nodded. "But I fear I cannot stand, can you please help me?"

Blaine nodded, gently cradle carrying the elderly woman in his massive armspan. Standing, he carried Mother Tulip over. With the worst of it over with, the young woman finally found herself able to breath deeply. Standing, she approached her hero, who placed Tulip in her chair. Wrapping her arms around him, the man seemed confused.

"Um... you're welcome?" Blaine said, confused. "Gerald?"

"That's a pretty high honor, Blaine." a man said behind her. "You're sword skills are recognized by Thane Rosalinda of Celilia."

"Screw the title for right now." Rosalinda said, squeezing a little tighter in her hug. "Thank you, person to person, fair stranger. You spared me a bunch of grief."

"Alright boyo, any longer an' it's cheatin'." Morgan chuckled, pointing to Autumn, who had stowed away with Dawn during the fight.

"It was the right thing to do, er, your highness?" Blaine asked. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm not from these parts."

With that, Rosalinda's eyes widened as she remembered the whole reason she had been to the temple. Backing away, Gerald gingerly placed his hands on her shoulder to reassure her.

"They go against the Crown." Rosalinda said, pointing to Blaine.

"You mean that cunt that shares the same name as me?" Morgan scoffed. "Fuck 'em. Asshole threw us all down the shitter, makes a new world, an' tries to kill us all."

"Without such vulgar attitude, the man is right, Rosalinda." Tulip nodded sagely. "The King has most definitely changed, and it is most fortunate that they have arrived. I've been expecting them."

"W-What?" Rosalinda shuddered, turning to the Elderly lady.

"The King is a good friend of mine, but his methods today are not what they used to be. Many people have noticed this. Members of the community, who I shall not name, that align themselves with the Silent Fist wish to help the King see his ways, even if Revolution is the answer."

"The Silent Fist, despite what you might have heard, is an organization formed for the renewal of Prendaviel. They do not wish to attack the innocent, and in fact, would prefer to stick out of conflict. But the King has currently shown that perhaps violence is the only way." Mother Tulip said, pulling her tome open again. "They come to me, seeking wisdom from this tome."

"If I may be so bold, ma'am. What is that book?" Blaine asked, turning towards her.

"It is all a legend. Shared by the Creator about the formation of Prendaviel. It is a story about the King, and his siblings. I haven't been able to translate all of it, but from what I have been able to bring up is, hold on."

Flipping through the notes to her left, she placed a pair of glasses in front of her eyes. Pointing at one note in particular, she cleared her throat.

"In dark times, when shadows will roam the Realm. The Fragments shall mend the King." Tulip said, as the group looked in and amongst each other. "If you are all willing to rest here, there is plenty of space in the upper atrium. This book was recently discovered in some ruins, not far from here. I should be able to translate it by noon tomorrow."

"Oh thank Christ!" Morgan sank to his knees. "A damned break!"

Josh and Phil chuckled, helping Morgan back to his feet. Lance, Chelsea, Lillian, and even Jeremy yawned. Blaine nodded to Autumn, who smiled, Dawn burying her face into Autumn's shoulder, nervous of the strangers in front of her.

"It was my understanding that you had a couple of unconscious people with you?" Tulip quipped, Gerald nodding curtly.

"They are just outside. They need a cleric." Gerald bowed his head.

Gerald began walking for the exit, as Blaine followed him. Darryl started to walk, as Blaine shook his head. Tilting his head towards the others, Darryl nodded with understanding, escorting Autumn and Dawn up the stairs. Following Gerald, Blaine was unsurprised to see Rosalinda following as well.

"Many apologies, hero." Rosalinda said quietly. "I just... don't deal well with rebels."

"I was just going to ask why you remain loyal to the King?" Gerald huffed. "You remember that day when he split Prendaviel, how he treated you. You see almost monthly how he taxes your people. Why protect someone like that?"

"He's right, Rose." Blaine nodded curtly. "I considered your King a good friend too, and all he's done is thrown me to the dogs. I can't keep pretending anymore. He needs to be stopped."

"I let him do what he wanted with me for years." Blaine clenched his fists. "But then he attacked my family, he can do what he will with me. But I won't let him touch my family, I can't, I won't!"

Rosalinda turned towards the giant man beside her, frowning. She realized that they fought the King, not so much to be rebels, but because the King had wronged them. Opening the front door, Gerald beckoned the two of them outside.

"You don't have to join the Silent Fist," Gerald said, as they clambered down the ornate stairs of the temple. "-But we need to make sure you don't give us away to the King."

"I would never!" Rosalinda huffed, annoyed.

"Eh- I wasn't trying to insult you!" Gerald stammered. "You've just got to understand, this is a big deal. If the King learns that the Silent Fist is here, you and your people could be in serious danger."

There was an audible beeping sound, Rosalinda's eyes widening. Gerald saw the glowing yellow dot in front of Rosalinda too. Grabbing Blaine by the shoulders, Gerald threw Blaine into the bushes, diving in after him.

"Uh, what the-" Blaine started, as Gerald covered his mouth.

Rosalinda glanced towards the bush, before sighing. Blaine noticed her face filled with utter terror. Pressing the button, what appeared to be a hologram of the King appeared before her.

"Thane Rosalinda, I send this tele-letter in regards to a couple of topics I wish to discuss with you. Firstly, I must ask what has become of my guardsmen I sent to collect tax?"

"Your lordship." Rosalinda bowed to the hologram. "I was unaware you sent your men here? They have not approached me, if they have even arrived."

The hologram's head peered left to right, as if searching for something, before turning around completely. Morgan's silhouetted form seemed to scan the sleeping town.

"It is early yet, I expect a tele-letter upon their arrival." Morgan turned back, speaking sternly. "The second topic of discussion is your good friend Gerald, High Thane of Mireaweth. He was on a ride through Thays with me early yesterday morning. On our ride, we encountered some undesirable company."

"What has Gerald done, my King?"

"He offered to dispose of the naives in my stead. But it appears that instead he wandered off with them. My spies have told me that he was last seen approaching your.... 'beautiful' region. Cyst-opia I believe it was called?"

"Celilia, your majesty." she bowed.

"Do not correct me." Morgan growled. "If he is spotted, and the people with him are not in any way restrained, you are hereby ordered to apprehend him and his party. You shall then tele-letter me when you do so, and I will respond swiftly."

"It will be done, I will have all of my lookouts keep an eye out."

"Excellent work. If he is betraying the Crown, and you accomplish this feat, I shall not only help you rebuild that trash heap you call a Province, but I will also give you Mireaweth to rule as well."

With that, the King's hologram disappeared. Rosalinda's mouth gaped, as she sank to her knees. Holding her face in her hands, she shuddered as Gerald placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Thank you, Rosalinda. Your kindness knows no bounds." Gerald smiled. "Blaine, let's get the other two inside before any of the King's loyalists appear."

Blaine nodded, walking alongside Gerald to the horse that they had tied up. Anna smiled, standing there, watching over the horse. Gerald gave her an untrusting glare, as Blaine shrugged. Rosalinda frowned at the sight of the still unconscious Drake and Bryce on the horse's back. Blaine and Gerald moved forward to lift each one, Rosalinda's delicate hands stopping their grasp.

"They shouldn't be moved again. Not unless it's under their own power. It'l only make their condition worse." Rosalinda's hands went to a pouch on her side. "Luckily for them, I always carry a few of these around."

In her hands, a pair of small phials filled with red liquid sat. Blaine observed the liquid in confusion, Rosalinda chuckled, as Gerald did the same.

"It's something new that Mother Tulip taught us Clerics." Rosalinda smiled. "They're called Vitality potions, they are used to clean and mend wounds, internally and externally. We tend to use these instead of a room filled with Clerics. It's less physically exerting, and can keep the Clerics open for more drastic cases."

Handing one to each of the men beside her, she tilted her head towards the men on the horse. Blaine opened Drake's mouth, dumping the liquid in, and easing the Guardian's head up. Gerald did the same for Bryce. Within a moment, the two men's eased breathing became more eratic, as they both snapped awake. Struggling for a moment, the two grunted as they fell off of the horse, which began to panic.

Gerald helped ease his horse, while Blaine helped Bryce and Drake to their feet.

"Gentleman, and child." Blaine said, smirked at Bryce. "Welcome back to the land of the not totally fucked up."

"I dunno, I don't feel very welcome." Bryce shrugged. "More of a torture seeing your crusty old face, geezer."

"Geezer?" Rosalinda asked, coming around the side of the horse. "Blaine looks no older than thirty."

"Truth be told, I'm actually in my late forties." Blaine turned to her. "But it's possible there may be something about this land that makes us appear a lot younger than we actually are."

"That's great." Drake groaned. "Where are the others, are they okay? Where the hell are we, and who the hell are these people?"

"One question at a time." Blaine said. "I'll explain while we head inside."

I have not forgotten about this project, although it appears no-one is actually reading it . *Sometimes just a simple post saying 'Hi' indicates you're there.*

It will continue again very soon, but in the mean time, I have prepared a small teaser of what's to come.

"Mother Tulip! We need your help! Our search party went out to the Ruins of the Creator yesterday, and haven't returned!"

"I know it is much to ask of you weary travelers, but can you please go and find those men?"

Blaine turned to Drake and Bryce, who nodded. Behind them, Morgan cracked his knuckles, while Autumn and even Lillian nodded. Smirking, he had the group that would follow him.

"Darryl, help take care of everyone here." Blaine nodded. "Gerald, you should probably stay too."

"Like hell!" Gerald shook his head. "How many of you actually know how to fight?"

All of the volunteers raised their hands, as Gerald sighed.

"I mean with a sword?" Gerald rolled his eyes, none of the hands lowering.

"That's the fun of the adventure." Morgan stepped forward. "I'm always lookin' for new ways to kick some major ass."

"In that case, the young man with the white hair may benefit from this." Mother Tulip said, holding out a raggedy looking wooden staff. "I sense a bunch of arcane power within him, this staff was used by me in my youth. It's ragged, but it'll see you through."

"Where are these Ruins?" Blaine asked, turning to Tulip, who frowned.

"To the North, half a day's journey. You cannot miss them, they are towards the peak of Mount Verde. Torch light shall lead your way."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mother Tulip, I hate to question your motives. But why did you not permit me from going?"

"You will serve a purpose here. You shall train the other outworlders while those six are away. More importantly, I needed you to leave the main three to their own devices."

Drake held the torch up, the vibrant, purple flame erupting from the tip illuminated the cave. There was no immediate sign of a struggle, in fact, the ornate decorations on the wall seemed almost untouched for centuries.

"Those that are guided by their heart shall seek to mend the Broken King. I didn't want to mention that part earlier, because those that are guided by their heart are also severely at risk for corruption."

Blaine stepped forward, uneasiness in his eyes. Drawing his sword, he twirled it in his hand, peering around the room. Sure enough, from the ground in front of them, just beyond the table in the center of the room, a group of shadows appeared. Bryce's eyes glowed white, as his hair stood upwards. Autumn prepared her bow, while Drake and Morgan both scanned the room.

Their eyes settled on a pair of shields, along with one mace and one sword. Likely left over from the search party. Grasping the items, they stood ready. Lillian searched for a moment, finding a crossbow on the ground. Mulling it over, she was quick to discover how to operate the item.

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

"Those that are guided by the Heart will have to fight the Darkness, not only of our King's command. But their inner Darkness."

Blaine stepped forward, the wind howling in his face. Raising his hand up to his eyes, he could barely make out the visage of something resting in the snow in front of him. Trudging forward through the snow, he was slowly able to make out the form more and more.

"They will face their inner most fears."

Blaine's eyes widened, as he sank to his knees. In front of him, the lone form of a woman lay still in the snow. Red staining the otherwise white fluff on the ground. Beside her, however, was a much smaller form, Onyx black hair matted with the same red liquid.

There was a mighty roar, but it did not originate from Blaine. His eyes snapped upwards, as a massive beast stood before him. It wielded a sickle in it's left hand, and a mighty Greataxe in the other. Electricity coursed through the beast, and into the weapons it possessed.

"They will either overcome it..."

Blaine stood, drawing his new Greatsword from off of his back. Holding it to his side, he was certain of one thing, something else was going to die on this mountain, and it wasn't him. The others watched, as Blaine's eyes glowed red, throwing the beast off guard.

"-or they will be consumed."

"I cannot determine whom, just yet. But where you least expect it, a traitor is among the group. I leave it up to you, to discover them. Otherwise, everything we have sacrificed will be for naught."

Gerald's eyes widened, as Tulip pointed towards the group of friends and acquaintances, who mingled towards the back of the Temple. He had been right, one of the people in that crowd was going to betray them all, but the thing was; who?

I've been reading this, and the other work you have posted during my "absence", since you've started them. I've just been so busy with work, research, and other things in the real world that I haven't really had much time to do things here other than just read.

I'll try and make myself more known, like before. Keep doing what you're doing man.

I get it, no pressure or anything!

"So... if Shadow's gone bat shit, why can't we just Ascend and kick his ass?" Drake asked.

"Simply put, young man, GoldenHeart's influence on this realm is diminished. You, while a Fragment of himself, have no power without his presence." Mother Tulip said, approaching the four. "Creator save you if you even tried to get close to the King."

"That's another question I had," Bryce scoffed. "Who the hell is this Creator, and why is he so important? I thought Morgan WAS the Creator?"

"Heaven's no!" Tulip chuckled. "Our King is just as much a creation of the Mighty Creator, as you or I. However, I do agree that you should all know a bit more about the Creator."

"It all starts with the formation of Prendaviel-" Tulip said, as the crowd all gathered to her.

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

Legend speaks of the Beginning. While shrouded in mystery, it is commonly accepted that the first noise recognized by any being capable of listening, was the echoing of Church bells. It was sad that, in the Darkness of absolute nothing, a lone light stood.

The Light, as most people have guessed, was the Creator himself. Standing in this abyss of Darkness, the Light did not yield to the overwhelming presence, and despair that surrounded him. With a wave of his right hand, time began to flow, space forming around him.

Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, hours became days. You know the pattern. Brandishing a mighty hammer from his back, the Cobalt one struck the darkness beneath his feet. A mighty tremor took form. From his feet, land began to form from the hardened darkness. With a wipe of his forehead, the beads of sweat from his forehead would continue to flow, becoming the oceans surrounding Prendaviel.

The Darkness, however, would not give up so easily. For you see, the Cobalt one had begun his attempt at overthrowing the Darkness from another being of Light. The Darkness lashed out at the Cobalt one's only sense of company, mortally wounding them. The Darkness had thought itself victorious, but instead, it had only sealed it's fate.

With his anger, the Cobalt one disposed of his hammer. In his rage, lava plumed from the mountains of the North, swallowing the Darkness around him. The Lava, an extension of his ultimate fury, bonded with the Ocean, the extension of his calmness and collectiveness.

For some time, his rage and his serenity would combat one another.It was only when the one he had built the world for had descended from the heavens above. With her, winds of clarity began to stir, and Light emanated from her. With her winds, the Lava of the Cobalt one's rage began to settle, the currents of an antagonized Ocean quieted once more.

In the Cobalt one's battle of self, the Darkness had become trapped beneath the surface of the land. Left to stew and curse itself for allowing itself to be so easily defeated. Sadly, the woman of Light was returned to the sky, to become the waking and waning Sun by which the Cobalt one was blessed to wake to every day.

In his wake, the Creator had designed a Realm for him and the woman of Light to live in. However, with her trapped in the sky, and him trapped with his creations, he desired company, besides the Sun above his head. This is where the Prendaveleans were created. The Creator showed the people what foods to eat, how to hunt the animals he had inadvertently created, and how to fish the creatures of the ocean.

The acts of creating Prendaviel, however, had taken their toll on the Creator. He had been dying, poisoned by his own thirst for freedom from Darkness. In his last breath, he created the Five. One of Lore, One of Mind, One of Heart, One of Courage, and One of Anger. The siblings that formed the Five would be the ones to cultivate the land in the Creator's stead. They would guide the Prendaveleans to greatness, and perhaps one day to finish the Darkness off completely.

Lore, the eldest of the Five, taught the Prendaveleans the art of literature. She taught them how to record their accomplishments, and how to communicate with one another.

Mind, the second eldest, taught Prendaveleans how to retain knowledge from the world around them. He would teach them also the art of Economy, and most knowledge that Lore was incapable of teaching.

Heart, the middle sibling, taught Prendaveleans to accept one another, despite their difference. Ironically, he had been the most hated of the Five, for the sole fact he was the most like the Creator. He had not been spared by even his fellow siblings. For those that would listen, he also taught how to Love, and other such emotions. He was also responsible for the creation of Entertainment, such as theater.

Unlike his other siblings, whom had been open about their emotions, he had only bottled it up inside. His rage would forever be known as the rekindling of the Cobalt one. Though few had ever witnessed his rage, those that survived the ordeals learned a new emotion; Fear.

Courage, the second to youngest, taught the Prendaveleans how to ignore their overwhelming fears, as the Creator had done against the Darkness. He also taught the arts of Music and Art itself.

Anger, the youngest, was the most unstable of the Five. While coveted by the people of Prendaviel, and all but one of the Five, Anger was still very dangerous. It is believed that his creation came solely from the poison that had claimed the Creator. With his influence, sadly many Prendaveleans grew too stressed, or angered. This would result in the formation of murder, crime, and greed.

As one may expect, Heart and Anger did not like each other from day one. No one sibling amongst the Five had any more substantial power than the other, resulting in numerous skirmishes that would result in the destruction of the very Valley we stand in. For you see, what is known today as the Province of Celilea was once a lush Ocean community, where Heart claimed as his home.

Anger, wishing solely to make Heart's life a living hell, sought to destroy the Ocean community. It was his actions that revealed the true nature of Heart. The battle between the two siblings lasted many, many years. Neither Lore, Mind, nor Courage could assist either sibling in their feud.

Once more, the Lava of the Creator's Rage flowed upon the lands. The Ocean, which once was the Creator's Serenity, began to come ashore.The war lasted for some time, until the Heart had finally snapped. His sibling, Anger, had summoned the Darkness to Heart's homelands. Every man, woman, and child that did not serve in the Heart's army were assassinated in one, fell swoop.

It was then that the Lava left the control of Anger, the Ocean swelled, and magma took to the skies. The Light of their mother would no longer shine upon Prendaviel. Anger, whom had caused so much harm in his life, had angered even Heart. Using the same Darkness that Anger had used against him, Heart banished his youngest sibling beneath the Earth, to spend his days in solitude with the Darkness he had associated with.

With his new, fearsome outlook on life, Heart launched a massive campaign amongst the people of Prendaviel. Any followers of his brother Anger were to be slaughtered, two for every person that Heart had lost. Three for his wife, and four for his Daughter. Despite being the middle child, Heart proved to be so fearsome, that not even his brother Courage dared to mess with him.

So it was, the followers of Anger were executed, the blood of Heart's followers had been repaid. As his temper slowly returned to a more stable state, the Oceans and the Lava slowly retreated back to where they belonged once more. With the last of his influence, Heart sought to rebuild the homes and communities of the innocents that had been affected between the hostilities between he and his brother.

His eldest sibling attempted to counsel with him, but Heart would not speak of it. His clarity of mind was gone, and he would go on to spend the rest of his days, horribly alone. Courage decided that it would be best if he cut ties with the remaining siblings, Mind had been far to traumatized by the outlash that he too disappeared. Lore, the only remaining of the siblings, settled down in the ruins of Celilea, hoping one day her younger brother would return. Only then the Five could reunite as a family once more.

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

"So... Shadow is the Heart?" Blaine asked.

"Nay, he is not the Heart. But it is possible that he is a descendant of the Heart." Tulip shook her head. "This is where his power derives from. As Fragments of the Heart, you should be able to reawaken the true Heart."

"Sadly, however, this will not be enough." Tulip continued. "Our King has undoubtedly accessed the ruins of Moredon, where the other siblings had left their temples. Each had an article of power, power that the King formed into the armor he wears in combat. With that armor, he is as powerful as the Creator himself."

"Then why doesn't he tear the world asunder and destroy us all, Mother Tulip?" Gerald asked.

"He cannot, the will of the Creator, and the Woman of Light would not allow for the destruction of all that was created. He can, however, rule indefinitely unless he is stopped by the influence of the Five. Your goal, from this day forth, is to locate relatives of the Five, and bring them to our cause. Even Anger will be necessary, and he may be the hardest of them to persuade, especially if you were to return GoldenHeart."

"Mother Tulip!" A scout panted, bursting through the door. "There's been an emergency!"

"What seems to be the trouble, my child?" Tulip asked, as the Scout stopped to catch his breath.

The young man's beard was still freckled with ice, and his face was ashen, as if all the blood in his face had disappeared. Bowing respectfully, the man gasped in air.

"Our search party went out to the Ruins of the Creator yesterday, and haven't returned!" He gasped again. "I went up to try and find them, but I sensed a very dark presence. I am not trained in combat."

Gerald walked over to the man, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You did good, kiddo. You came to the right place for the help."

"Ek!" the scout coughed. "Thane Gerald, I was not expecting you to visit Celilia."

"Worry not about me, tend to yourself." Gerald smirked. "Try and tell us as much as you can."

"I don't know much else from that, sir. All I saw was some silhouette on the peak of Vert Mountain, glaring through the snow storm at me. I didn't plan to stay long. The scouting party consisted of a pair of mages, a knight, and a pair of Archers."

"I see, rest now child." Tulip smiled, before the scout was escorted away by Rosalinda. "I know it is much to ask of you weary travelers, but can you please go and find those men and women?"

Blaine turned to Drake and Bryce, who nodded. Behind them, Morgan cracked his knuckles, while Autumn and even Lillian nodded. Smirking, he had the group that would follow him.

"I think we can manage, ma'am. Darryl, help take care of everyone here." Blaine nodded. "Gerald, you should probably stay too."

"Like hell!" Gerald shook his head. "How many of you actually know how to fight?"

All of the volunteers raised their hands, as Gerald sighed.

"I mean with a sword?" Gerald rolled his eyes, none of the hands lowering.

"That's the fun of the adventure." Morgan stepped forward. "I'm always lookin' for new ways to kick some major ass."

"We've been in sticky situations before, trust me." Blaine nodded to Gerald. "Besides, I'd feel much better having someone with your combat prowess here watching my people. They are much too tired to defend themselves."

Turning back, the six volunteers saw their friends and relatives barely staying conscious after their long walk.

"In that case, the young man with the white hair may benefit from this." Mother Tulip said, holding out a raggedy looking wooden staff. "I sense a bunch of arcane power within him, this staff was used by me in my youth. It's ragged, but it'll see you through."

"Where are these Ruins?" Blaine asked, turning to Tulip, who frowned. "We don't know the way, but point me in the direction and I bet I can get us there."

"To the North, half a day's journey. You cannot miss them, they are towards the peak of Mount Verde. Torch light shall lead your way." Tulip sighed. "Please, child, help those people."

"Spartan's honor, ma'am. You'll have your people back." Blaine turned to his team. "Soldiers, move out!"

Tulip smiled as the group of six stepped out. Gerald stood there, frowning, however. Gerald crossed his arms, almost sighing.

"Mother Tulip, I hate to question your motives. But why did you not permit me from going?" Gerald asked.

The elderly woman beside him nodded, closing her eyes. Beckoning him to the side, she walked with the nobleman through the temple towards the back.

"You will serve a purpose here. You shall train the other outworlders while those six are away. More importantly, I needed you to leave the main three to their own devices." she said. "Those that are guided by their heart shall seek to mend the Broken King. I didn't want to mention that part earlier, because those that are guided by their heart are also severely at risk for corruption."

"Just like in the legend of the Creator."

"Precisely, the Heart was corrupted by his youngest sibling. His emotions became so raw, so fierce, that the Heart became what he had always hated. I sense that the three Fragments have beared witness to this, and I want them to learn how to overcome it."

"Those that are guided by the Heart will have to fight the Darkness, not only of our King's command. But their inner Darkness." she continued. "They will face their inner most fears. They shall either overcome it.... or be consumed."

Stopping just by the fireplace, Gerald leaned down to stoke the fire. Mother Tulip seating herself in the wooden chair facing the middle of the Temple.

"That still doesn't explain why I didn't go with them, Mother." Gerald sighed. "I would rather be there in case they-"

"-you are needed here." Tulip interrupted him, a more serious tone in her voice. "I cannot determine whom, just yet. But where you least expect it, a traitor is among their group. I leave it up to you to discover them. Otherwise, everything we have sacrificed, or will sacrifice, will be for naught."

Gerald's eyes widened, as Tulip pointed towards the group of friends and acquaintances, who mingled towards the middle of the Temple. He had been right, one of the people in that crowd was going to betray them all, but the thing was; who? Had the betrayer gone with the others?

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

"Not that I don't appreciate the gung-ho attitude we're exhibiting, Blaine." Bryce shrugged. "But dont'cha think it would've been nice if we had ALL armed ourselves?!"

It was true, only Blaine and Bryce had weapons. Blaine had the sword he had stolen off of the rogue tax collectors, and Bryce had Tulip's aged staff.

"I firmly believe that the old lady didn't have a hidden cache of weapons in her closet, Bryce." Blaine shrugged. "It's a half day's walk to the mountain. Perhaps, if we're lucky, we might encounter some weapons along the way."

"Soo... we're robbing corpses?" Morgan asked. "That's pretty damn dark boyo."

"They won't need it anymore. Besides, we did it with Covenant weapons in the war." Blaine shrugged, as everyone around him stared. "Really? I'm the only one here that picks up the weapons from the dead?"

"Yep." Drake nodded. "Not gonna lie, kinda creepy."

"Just shut up and keep walking." Blaine huffed, as Lillian and Autumn giggled in the back.

////////////////////////////////////////

12 Hours later

"Yep, that's a mountain, alright." Morgan nodded, placing his fists on his hips at the sight of Mount Verde.

"Jeez old man, how can you guess?" Bryce hissed, practically limping alongside him.

"How'd you like that fancy stick shoved up yer arse?" Morgan mumbled, walking towards Blaine.

"Doesn't look very green." Autumn smirked, as Lillian turned to face her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Verde, it's Spanish (Vert for French) for Green." Autumn chuckled, as if she had made a joke.

"That was a real nice joke there, princess." Bryce started, as Blaine growled, standing before Bryce.

"Rethink how you address my wife, or I'll tear that white hair out of your head and make my daughter a stuffed rabbit out of it." Blaine said, jabbing his finger into Bryce's chest. "Got it, princess?"

"I think everyone's getting a bit cranky here." Drake sighed. "Let's all take five, rest ourselves up a bit."

"Had it not been for Blaine's stupid break every four hours rule, we might not be so cranky!" Bryce hissed.

"I'm sorry, is that the insistent whines of a pussy I hear?" Blaine held a hand up to his ear, leaning in. "Get used to it buck-o, Spartan training had us doing much worse than this, and we didn't get any breaks."

"-And now I'm guilt tripped. Nice." Morgan sighed. "You fockers need me, I'll be sleepin' o'er there."

"I'm so sick of hearing just how bad YOU'VE had it, Blaine. We've all established our childhoods were shit. Why do you keep living in yours?!"

"Did you know how many times Shadow has killed me?" Blaine growled. "You can't count that shit on your HANDS, that's how many times!"

"The sadistic part is, because I'm a fragment of GoldenHeart, I get to relive my life endlessly. I could die at any point in this place, but I'll just wake up back in Boot Camp." Blaine's face turned deep red. "I get to relive that hell, again and again and again. I get to watch my friends, my FAMILY, die time and time again. I can't change it though, only select things."

"Then I meet Autumn, have Dawn with her, and live my life until I either grow old, or die prematurely. But don't fret, 'cause when I die, I get to start the lovely circle ALL over again." Blaine stomped towards Bryce, poking the cryomancer's chest. "How many times the 'Good' Shadow killed you, eh boyo?"

Bryce stood there, eyes wide as Blaine kept stepping forward, prodding the man's chest, fire in his eyes.

"Ah, the perpetual mouth has finally decided to shut up." Blaine growled. "Too late, asshole. How. many. times?!"

"No-"

"None. Not one fucking time." Blaine clenched his fist. "Bryce Howard, the great mutant freak, didn't die ONE FUCKING TIME."

"Blaine, c'mon man." Drake said, approaching.

"How many times, Drake?" Blaine grit his teeth.

"Twice. Once in a battle with a higher ranking Fallen, and once to a Hive God, we met him once; Crota." Drake sighed. "But he also took Autumn from me."

"I see." Blaine said. "In one continuity, my third loop around. I lost Morgan over there, I lost Josh and Phil, I lost my uncle Craig. I lost Katie... I lost Autumn-"

Autumn's eyes widened, never once had he told her about these problems swimming around his head.

"- after I lost Autumn, my daughter Dawn was kidnapped." Blaine clenched his fist. "I ran a mission to save her from Farius' grasp, and y'know what? I died getting her back. In that continuity, she only had the small remnants of my family to take care of her."

Turning back to Bryce, Blaine placed a hand firmly around the man's neck.

"The reason I relive my past, is because that bastard Shadow refuses to let me DIE!" Blaine growled, lifting Bryce up into the air. "I feel like he gets some sort of pleasure from having us tortured, and y'know what? I'm glad I'm getting this chance to end his bullshit."

"I feel like a test is in order." the Spartan smirked, squeezing just so. "See if he brings you back, eh?"

"Blaine Angus Harlowe." Autumn's voice seemed dark, more serious than she had ever been. "Put him down, or I'll send you back through the loop."

Blaine sighed, releasing Bryce from his grasp. Falling on his rear, Bryce's eyes remained wide, as he scurried backwards on his hands, as fast away from the Spartan as he could.

"I wish you had shared these concerns with me sooner." Autumn said, her head downcast, her hands balled now into fists. "We could have worked them out together. But you insisted on keeping me in the dark."

"I've told you, since the first day we became official. If you were ever harmed, I would do my best to heal you." Autumn began to shake, as tears ran down her cheeks. "But your damn Spartan bravado makes you deny me that right as your wife. You're always trying to mend things yourself. Life is a SHARED event! You may be GoldenHeart's pillar of Strength, but that doesn't make you INVINCIBLE, Blaine!"

"I'm not strong enough, okay?" Blaine sighed. "I've lived countless loops, each time, my history is altered. I see some people die, and sometimes I see those same people live. All this mortality, and I have to keep returning back to the beginning, just to see who gets to live and die the next time. After that third loop though, when I lost you... I snapped. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but how could I explain it? Hi honey, in this continuity, I just met you. This may sound crazy, but my last loop of life, you and I had a daughter, and you died to our friend Butch?"

"Butch killed me?" Autumn's eyes opened wider. "-A-and Katie was dead?"

Blaine slowly walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder, his wife stiffening. She attempted to brush him off, before she wrapped her arms around him. Drake and Lillian looked at one another, their eyes cast to the Earth.

"Perhaps we are the lucky ones." Drake sighed. "We've all had it pretty rough, but I can only imagine how rough it must be."

Bryce stood, turning his back to the group.

"I guess I never really looked at the situation like that." Bryce sighed. "I've lost my fair share of family, friends, and people I had an interest in, but I've never had to relive those moments. I'm sorry."

"No, boyo." Blaine said, lifting his head off of the top of Autumns. "I'm afraid I'm the one that should be sorry. My problems are my own, I shouldn't have cast them all down on you like that. It's not your fault, it's Shadow's."

"Yeah." Drake smirked. "Maybe one day, you can return him the favor?"

"Even if I have to die doing it." Blaine growled, before returning to his hug with Autumn.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." Morgan groaned, stretching. "I think this group is slowly becoming a Soap Opera."

"Tell me something, Grenwych." the voice growled in the shadows of the War Room.

The Spy Master tensed, as the King's voice boomed throughout the dark room before him.

"Have you, or have you not received word from your missing spy?" Morgan asked, coldly.

Grenwych, the Spy master for the Kingdom of Prendaviel, fell to his knees. Bowing his head, Grenwych shook his head. Morgan clearly could not see this, as Grenwych's hand reached up to his throat.

"SILENCE IS NOT AN ANSWER!" Morgan boomed.

"Nay, sire." Grenwych coughed. "We have, however, received word from Celilia's Lookouts."

"Speak."

Grenwych chuckled uneasily, as he pointed towards his throat. Morgan sighed, dropping the man back into the shadows. The Spy Master clutched his throat, breathing deeply as a result of his choke-out session.

"The Lookouts have not seen anyone that matches your descriptions in their towns. However, they did notice a considerably large party headed in the direction of Thays."

"Was Gerald recognized within that group?" Morgan clenched his teeth.

"It is unknown sire, I shall have more details come morning. With your permission, I would also like a small strike team sent to retrieve my missing Spy."

"How can you retrieve them, if they are missing?" Morgan growled.

"I would have them search Celilia thoroughly." Grenwych replied, gaining his confidence back. "Please sire, she is my daughter. She is all I have left in this world."

"You may do so, if you understand that... should I find she has been helping them. I shall force a pain so agonizing upon her that the Creator himself would cry, and I shall force YOU to watch her suffering."

"I understand, sire." Grenwych nodded. "For now, rest easy, my lord. You shouldn't let your stress get the better of you."

"Bah, even if I were to be tired. I possess more than enough power to crush anyone that stands against me."

Grenwych nodded, before bowing out the door behind him. The second it closed, however, the Spy Master sprinted down the hall. Eyes widened, he huffed and puffed his way down the way, until he located an odd looking candle fixture on the wall. Pulling down on it, the wall shed it's dust, as cogs behind the wall began to spin.

Stepping into his secret zone, Grenwych's eyes began to water as he slowly lowered himself to the floor, sliding down the wall. In his hand had been a hologram of a piece of paper that he had received, not even an hour before. His eyes scanned over the Holo-Letter once more.

Father,

I trust that this letter finds you in good health. Worry not for my health, as I am well, thanks to the help of some friendly locals here in Celilia. I encountered the group that the King searches for, but they ambushed me when they realized my presence.

T'was nothing fatal, considering that I am still breathing to write you this letter. I miss you, Father. I truly hope that you will bare with me. The group the King seeks is not as evil as he makes them out to be. When they realized that the King expected me to die on this scouting run, they tended to my wounds. They took me in, and now, whether the King likes it or not, I'm one of them.

Do not send reinforcements to me, or you'll put us all in danger. My choice has been made, and it is my hope that one day soon, you will understand that the King you serve so loyally is nothing but a Tyrant.

Be well, and Creator protect you,

Anna.

Grenwych grit his teeth, glaring at the message before him. They had brainwashed his daughter into their lies, their blasphemy, their heretical ways. When the reinforcements arrived the next day, assuming the bastards had stayed, she would be brought back to him safely. Grenwych would make it appear as though she had been kidnapped, and they heretics would all die by the King's hand.

Perhaps, for his loyalty, the King would even be benevolent enough to allow him to take Gerald's place as Thane of Mireaweth. That way, he could provide his daughter the life she had always deserved. Gritting his teeth, however, his eyes continued to stare at that one line:

I'm one of them.

That line haunted Grenwyth to no end. If the men and women he sent the next day did capture the defectors, she would likely give herself in to die alongside them. He admired his daughter at times for her stubbornness, but other times he cursed her for it. If he became the cause of her death... he'd have nothing left in this world.

However, he also knew that betraying the King was calls for death. Bowing his head, he took in the still silence of his hidden alcove. Running his hand gently across his face, the man leaned back against the wall, releasing a mighty sigh.

"I'll meet him in the middle, then." Grenwyth smirked. "If I'm going to die, I'll die helping you, kiddo."

Pulling up the fake message he had formulated for his original plans, he edited the location from City of Roses, Celilia to Doroman, Thays. If nothing else, it would buy the group she was with enough time to move to a better place. Pulling up a new Holo-Letter, he stared into the floating camera in front of him.

"Daughter of mine, o' beautiful Anna.

This message reaches you in hopes of a swift recovery. My loyalty to the King takes precedence above all else. However, that doesn't mean your old man can't skew his priorities a bit, eh? I cannot promise much, if you can find a proper hiding place in the City, I would suggest you do so. Come morning, a group of the OWB will be arriving, searching for you.

You must not let them locate you, you know as well as I do the threat these men and women will pose on your group. I dunno if what I am doing is right by the Creator, but for once in my life, I don't care. I'm setting you as my main priority, and if you think this Group is more than some 'evil occult', than I will support you every step of the way.

Following that, you would be wise to move from the City of Roses. I will lead the OWB team away to Thays. From there, my usefulness will be zilch-"

Grenwych's eyes fell to the ground, as he took yet another deep sigh, tears flowing down his cheek again. After a moment, he glanced at the camera again.

"-Listen, child. No matter what happens, you must never give up on what you believe in. This could very well be my last Holo-Letter to you, in fact, it could be the last time I will ever speak to you. When the King realizes that I'm feeding him false information, I will most likely be executed. You cannot let this deter you from your path.

Just know this one thing; I love you very much, and I'm certain that wherever the Creator has placed your Mother, she and I are very proud of you.

Go get them, kiddo,

Dad."

Smiling proudly at the floating device, Grenwych saved the video, sending it immediately to his daughter. Closing his eyes, he breathed slowly and deeply, weighing the options in his head. Standing, Grenwych sighed one last time, before deleting all of the messages in his magical inbox. Turning to the wall, he stared, knowing that just on the other side, down the hall, the King would wait for the news come morning.

"Creator, I know I've lost my way in the past. I have always asked so much of you, and gave so little in response. I understand the errs of my ways, and I repent. I ask of you the biggest request I could; please protect my Daughter." Grenwych nodded. "In return, I offer myself as a Martyr. If this group you have brought to this realm is your bidding, I sacrifice myself to aid them on their quest."

The Following Morning

"Alright everyone, gather around." Darryl said, as the group all congregated around him in the large room to the top of the Temple's stairs. "Is everyone here?"

"That chick Anna ain't here." Josh shrugged.

Gerald stood rigid, as Darryl placed a hand on his shoulder. Staring at Gerald intensely, Darryl silently signaled the swordsman that he would locate her. Brushing past Jeremy, Darryl quickly descended the stairs. Tulip silently approached Darryl, pointing a withered, crooked finger to the front of the temple, towards the corner.

"I fear something is up with her, you may wish to talk to her." Tulip frowned. "She seems to have invested a considerable amount of trust in you."

Darryl glanced over to the young woman sitting in the corner. She sat with her back against the wall, knees pressed firmly to her chest. Walking over with a smile, Darryl began to frown, when the young woman didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Something on your mind, Anna?" Darryl asked, sitting beside her.

Anna remained silent, hugging her legs even tighter. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she shrugged him off, her eyes staring unrelenting to the bookshelf in front of her.

"My father sent me a message."

"Your dad?" Darryl asked. "Is he okay?"

"I dunno." she grumbled. "I haven't read it. I don't dare find out how he'll respond."

Darryl's eyes opened wide, she had sent him a message. If the message system could be tracked, it was possible that the group could be found.

"Well, what did you say?" Darryl asked, following her line of sight.

"I told him that I had joined a group of good people, that I had tired of working for a King that I felt didn't appreciate his people anymore." Anna began to sob. "He was my spy-master."

What?! Darryl thought to himself, his eyes opening wide. "Isn't the Spy-master the second in command to the King, like an adviser?"

"Yes. I didn't want him to worry about me, in hopes of preventing reinforcements from being sent in. If I let him know I was running away, he could perhaps fib to the King that I was dead."

"-And you fear what his response will be?" Darryl asked, as Anna broke into a full out cry fest.

"I fear that I might have accidentally compromised the entire group. I'm trying so hard to prove to Gerald that I'm on your guys' side. I don't want him to distrust me anymore."

Darryl nodded towards the small notification icon in the air in front of her.

"You mustn't be afraid, Anna." Darryl said, once again placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "If your Father worries about your well being, and you informed him you didn't feel safe there, he would not judge you."

Sighing, she pressed the floating button, opening her father's response.

"Daughter of mine, o' beautiful Anna-..." the message played, showing a pale skinned man's down trodden face peering helplessly into Anna's face.

Midway through the Holo-Letter, the man's face fell to the floor, as tears descended his cheek. Smiling with one last glance of bravado, the man's right hand seemed to drift up to the thing he recorded the video with, as if to brush her cheek.

"Go get them, kiddo, Dad."

Darryl had sat there with Anna at his side, listening to the video alongside her. He had seen the face, the way he had acted, numerous times in his life. It was the look of a man who knew he had to die for the good of many. It was a sign of ultimate resignation.

Anna held a hand over her mouth, as tears once again began to cascade down her cheeks. Her hand reached out, wrapping itself around Darryl's. The Spartan frowned as the video disappeared. Both of them, however, looked in shock as a new Holo-Letter appeared just before them.

"Is it a live transmission?" Darryl asked, pausing Anna from pressing it.

"No, it's pre-recorded, a couple of hours old." Anna said. "It's from him, so let's see."

"That would be rather touching, I'd be crying tears right now if I wasn't too busy not caring." a familiar voice appeared from the dark screen in front of them. "It's cute that your father thought he could try and trick me."

Darryl's eyes opened wide, as the 'lights' in the video turned on. In the center of a torture dungeon, Anna's father was strung up. Whatever he had been wearing was torn, several lacerations adorned his body. To his right was the King himself, Shadow.

"Anna, you mustn't let this Tyrant stop you. Turn this video off, for your own sake!"

Shadow growled menacingly, as a whip of pure red and black energy formed in his hand. Swiping it forwards, the single head fragmented numerous times, each new formation holding three new heads. Grenwych's blood curdling screams echoing from throughout the Temple.

"Daddy!" Anna yelled, as Darryl clenched his fists.

"Let this serve as a firm reminder to just how SERIOUS I can be!" Shadow's eyes glowed red. "I will NOT be double crossed, or you shall face the ultimate pain!

Grenwych, after the whipping ceased, held his head down trodden to the floor. Shadow turned once more to the floating capturing device they gazed through.

"The foolish populace of this Realm thinks I don't hear their constant complaints. They claim that I'm 'hurting' them. They no NOTHING of true pain! One day, I shall make it apparent just how HARMFUL I can really be!"

"He's insane." Darryl grit his teeth.

"You can continue to scurry around my Realm with the other rats. But they won't be able to stop me. GoldenHeart is powerless in this realm. You will be forced to watch, as I kill each of your new friends, ONE BY ONE! Shadow said, semi-hysterically. "Only after you are at your loneliest, when you beg for the release you will desire, will I permit a traitor such as you the freedom of Death."

"You're the lonely one." Grenwych coughed. "It's no wonder the entire realm hates you, it's no surprise why Gerald is going against you. You push people away. I dunno what happened to you, but you've changed, Morgan.

Shadow's eyes widened, as he clenched his fist, turning on his heels. Thrusting a mighty haymaker into Grenwych's stomach, Grenwych lurched forward, crimson liquid spewing from his mouth from the blow.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!

"Why? So you can kill me faster? Grenwych coughed with a smirk. "Listen here, asshole, and listen good. You might be the most powerful in Prendaviel right now. But Power is nothing unless you have FRIENDS to support you. My Daughter and her new friends will find a way to bring you down, and when they do, I'll be the first to personally greet your sorry ass in the after-life."

Shadow smirked, before clasping his two hands together, forming a sledgehammer fist. Swinging it across Grenwych's cheek, he swung the opposite direction, blood squirting from the Spy-Master's nose. Grabbing his victim by the forehead, Shadow slammed Grenwych's skull against the wall two times.

"Such last minute bravado." Shadow said, leaning in towards Grenwych. "I'd be impressed, had it not been used so... inappropriately.

Wrapping a hand around the spy-master's throat, Shadow clenched, squeezing the life out of the man. Anna began to whimper as her father remained mostly still, on the edge of unconsciousness... or death.

"Bravado means nothing to a dead man. You remain sure that your daughter will find some way to stop me. Just before you die, I part you with these last few words: If I catch your daughter, I will personally see to it that she is paraded throughout all of Prendaviel. She will be labeled as a traitor, and when she thinks she's at her edge, I'll BREAK her. She will never see the Light of the Mother Sun again, she will be consumed by the Darkness. She will die with fear in her heart, and doubt in her mind!"

Grenwych chuckled, as Shadow stared angrily at his victim. Before Shadow could react, Grenwych's forehead made it's way into Shadow's face, breaking his nose. Shadow reached up to his face, a shocked expression on his face, as he glared.

"Fuck off."

Dark energy pulsed from Shadow, as he grabbed Grenwych's forehead once more. Slamming it heavily against the wall, Anna shrieked as she heard a very audible cracking sound, blood oozing down the wall. Grabbing Grenwych by the torso, Shadow pulled with all of his strength. Darryl quickly covered Anna's eyes. Grenwych roared in pain as the shackles that had binded his forearms and calves helped Shadow tear him off of the wall.

There were several sickening snaps, as bones shattered. Ligiments tore, more crimson liquid splashing onto the floor. With one more groan of pain, Grenwych had been removed from the wall, his arms and legs completely removed from his body. Helpless, Shadow tossed him towards the 'camera'. Grenwych, with the last of his strength, attempted to crawl away, but it had been too late. Grabbing Grenwych by the back of his head, Shadow smashed the man's face down onto the concrete.

Once, twice, three times, four. Each time, Darryl winced at the cracking of bone, the squishing of flesh. Eventually, he couldn't bare to watch, closing his eyes. In his right hand, he could feel Anna's tears run clear. Cracking his eye, it showed Shadow's red iris' staring deep into the camera.

I also know one of the others are there watching this alongside you, with such a whiny little bitch as yourself. I wouldn't be surprised if you had woken the entire town by now. I assume it's Blaine, but on the off chance I'm wrong, listen here: Give up. You are better off joining efforts to get back to your own realms. If I find you, this is only a FRACTION of what hell awaits you.

With that, the screen disappeared. Anna sat there, quaking, tears relentlessly cascading down her cheeks. She had been so frightened, that not a single sound emanated from her gaping mouth. She quaked with each silent, painful sob, her eyes sore and red. Before Darryl could respond, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into her chest.

"Don't you worry a bit, Anna." Darryl glared off into space. "We're not going anywhere. This bastard... just made it personal."