With one foe down--now two, now three--Larcei can breathe. Happy little breaths, like the twinkling dewdrops yet to melt at dawn. They rise alongside her sense of hope, and dip with each daemon corpse that hits the ground.
They can do this, they can win.
But they aren't out of the woods yet. The husk snaps at her, literally--with the snap of its neck--and makes Larcei its target. With blinding speed it streaks across the battlefield, circling past the armored Fury to bash Larcei with what looks like the mark of Holy Blood.
Hegemon Husk 6/10HP** hits Larcei 10/10HP with Twin Crest Power! Roll 1d20 = 12 2.5 HP, Larcei 7.5/10HP
Roll 1d2 = 1, Crest of Flames prevents counterattack!
Hegemon Husk 6/10HP** heals +2.5 HP, Hegemon Husk 8.5/10HP**
The symbol brands her skin when it is pushed into her, singing the scion and reminding her that though she is succeeding, she is not invincible. The attack hurts.
"D-Damn! I've gotta... Ngh, tighten my belt...!"
Larcei 7.5/10HP uses Invoke! Roll 1d3 = 3, nothing happens!
She tries to stand, but the searing pain brings her to her knee. She tries to wave her hand, but the light is beyond her call. Even when she tries a different technique--calling for the souls of her allies--nobody responds. The world reminds her that it truly is just her a Fury out here, that they can only rely on their own strength to win.
She stands on her feet again, pressing her back into the Silessian's armor. "Alright..." she huffs, "Just a little more...!"
The blast strikes, but does not burn, so Fury fiddles with the cannon to load a different kind of blast. The huskâs fists strike her shell, but it does not bend under the pressure.Â
There is a moment, as the fists fall around her, when Fury feels the rush of battle without the fear of death. The adrenaline surges through her, enough to bring light to her eyes and focus in her body.Â
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Larcei bites her lip. Things aren't going nearly as good as she had hoped. What is her optimism doing for her team? Her powers of light for their spirits? Is the magic in her fingers somehow... Defective?
No, that can't be it. As one of the beasts howls and she is swallowed by sand, she believes she has reached her answer.
Giant Crawler 8/10HP uses Sandstorm! Roll 4d20 = 14, hit! Larcei is inflicted with Freeze until R2P!
"This whole damn thing..." she mutters, trying to wriggle herself free as polished floors succumb to a thousand tiny grains, "...Is rigged! I-It has to be! It ain't fair! It's been set up by someone who wants us to lose!"
That doesn't seem to bother her, though. A golden smirk streaks across her mouth, inspiring her with enough confidence to grab hold of marble and pull herself out of the quicksand.
"Fury!" The attention is onto her, now that she's the last one left. Larcei slowly backs into the armored knight until the two of them perfectly cover their rears--surrounded by the enemy. "It's just me 'n you! Let's show whoever set this up that we're not afraid of 'em!"
Larcei 9/10HP crits Black Beast 1.5/10HP with Luce! Roll 1d20+4 = 14; -6 HP, Black Beast 0/10HP
Black Beast has been defeated!
After a wave of her arm, a light so bright it burns like fire envelops the area. It focuses in on the thorned daemon, singing the tips of its spikes and spreading the light through its body like cracks of lightning. When it finally pierces the heart, the beast shatters, falling to the ground as tiny, black shards.
Her smirk widens. Somehow, she feels as though whoever is watching her has been shaken by her little victory. Their creations are not as infallible as they seem to think!
Fury hoists up her cannon again. She can hear her teammates falling around her, but the shell sheâs encased in wonât let her turn to look at them, so she silently says their names as she aims her cannon again.Â
One of the beasts writhes underneath the faint light from her cannon mouth, so she aims it, breathes in, then-
Bang!Â
A streak of golden, holy light launches at the beast, and though it tries to run, the light is faster than it could ever hope to be.Â
The light burns her target to ash, bits of its body flaking off as it lunges to bite her. Fury pulls her arms close, bracing for the strike.Â
Umbral Beast counters with bite, but Fury takes no damage! [1d20: 11; 1.5-4=0, Fury 9/10HP]
She feels the suit of armor come alive around her as the beast tries to scramble back, but the suit has burst with spikes, and she can hear the beast screaming and thrashing, trying to drag her to the ground.Â
Umbral Beast takes damage from Sesshoki! [-2HP, Umbral Beast 0/10HP]
Umbral Beast has been defeated!
She remains.Â
A second beast rushes forward to replace the first, but Fury closes her eyes, pulls her arms into the chest of the suit and waits. Trusts.Â
 Giant Crawler 8/10HP hits, crits, hits, and hits Fury 9/10HP with Bite! Roll 4d20 = 14, 18, 9, 7; -0 HP, -0 HP, -0 HP, and -0 HP, Fury 9/10HP
Sesshoseki: -2 HP, -2 HP, -2 HP, and -2 HP; Giant Crawler 0/10HP
Giant Crawler has been defeated!
Another beast falls before she can even raise her cannon. The hulking husk turns its attention to her next, but Fury braces again, and the spikes surge forward to intercept.Â
Roll 1d2 = 1, Hegemon Husk 10/10HP** equips Twin Crest Power!
Hegemon Husk 10/10HP** hits and hits Fury 9/10HP with Twin Crest Power! Roll 2d20 = 15 and 4; -0 HP and -0 HP, Fury 9/10HP
Sesshoseki: -2 HP and -2 HP; Hegemon Husk 6/10HP**
It strikes and strikes, but her armor refuses to give, and Fury can feel the hints of a smile on her face. She will not fall today. Not now. One, two, three, four strikes at her. She feels nothing.
Zephia is sick and tired of standing on a battlefield with these fools. Death and their decay meant nothing to them, because they had sickening ideals like faith and hope. She was going to be sick. She would rather die violently by the hands of their enemy than stand another minute of this.
She endures the onslaught placed upon her, not caring whether her "allies" were going to even think of lending her a helping hand. A hand that she would only turn down in the end anyway. She's almost tempted to turn against them, to join the side of the beasts. But she has a cover story that she must keep up, and killing a knight of the monastery alongside a student, and whoever that green haired woman who had spent most of their battles dead on the ground was, in cold blood would not be conducive to keeping her secrets.
She sighs, dragging an exhausted hand through her long white hair. Harken falls, and is almost immediately revived by that foolish girl. The one who had - probably still was - caged like a little bird. Did she think that she could truly save him? How pathetic.
Zephia wastes no time on frivolities, dragging a hand through the air as she unleashed the magic within her upon one of those yapping beasts who wished to nibble at her feet.
She might let them, depending on what fate had in store for her. Poor things had no idea what it was like to be ruled by a proper hand.
Zephia [2/10 HP] hits Black Beast [7/10 HP] with Apocalypse [Roll: 11] [-4.5 HP] [Black Beast 2.5/10 HP]
"Stupid mutt. Go back to where you came from." She grinds her heel into the dust, glaring daggers into the beast. It cowers back, not even daring to try and lash out at her.
Hmph.
Well, at least unlike her foolish humans "allies", the beast had a little bit of sense left in it.
She would not let herself be made a mockery of this time. Not again.
Fury awoke trapped in a shell of metal, hulking and heavy. Her eyes darted to find the sliver of light from her helmet, and when she tried to lift her arms to take the helmet off, she could barely lift them with the cannon and shield she carried. She could feel her breath quickening, a woman of the sky sealed away, but a strike of thorns hit her before she could spiral too far.Â
The strike barely hits her, more knocking her against the too-big armor than actually damaging her. Without knowing why, she braces her cannon against her shield, something guiding her movements, and a pale blue streak of energy launches from the mouth. She expects recoil - she finds none against the metal.Â
 Fury 9/10 misses Black Beast 2.5/10 with Silence Blast! [Roll: 4-6 = -2, Black Beast 2.5HP]
Black Beast is unable to counter!
Though the force can guide her movements, it canât teach her to aim, and the streak of light fires into the distance, instead of at her target. But she doesnât have time to dwell on failure - the monsters approach again, so she raises her polished shield and grits her teeth.Â
Zephia frowns, thunder still crackling in her hands as the scenery changes around them. Her wounds are healed, and clothes changed to ones no longer dusty and worn from the desert of their previous battle. She stands strong against the attack of the beast as it instantly rages against them. She does not care for the pain, but she has endured far worse working under her lord. This beast is trival - meaningless - and both it and the husk lingering behind it will be dust in the end soon enough if she has anything to say about it.
It was all meaningless in the end anyway, like water upon a duck's back, it would all just go away in the end.
So might as well cause her trouble while she was still here, right? If she couldn't know, couldn't understand, humans and their world, she would just have to destroy it all.
She casts her eyes down to Fury, lying upon the ground, the beginnings of a dire thunder crackling in her hands. "Get up, you fool. You are wasting precious time and energy by just lying around like some... useless animal." She humphs, the tassels on her horns swaying gently and she moved swiftly into an attacking position.
With a simple wave of her hand, thunder rains down upon the husk, the magic that she could harness almost completely decimating it with one snap of her fingers.
Zephia [6.5/10 HP] recovers +1 HP from Seiros Shield [Zephia 7.5/10 HP]
Zealotry Roll: 1.
Zephia [7.5/10 HP] hits and crits Larcei [10/10 HP] with Nova [Rolls: 11 - 4 = 7, 18 - 4 = 14] [-4 HP, -8 HP]
LARCEI IS DEFEATED
Zephia [7.5/10 HP] recovers +2 HP from Lifetaker [Zephia 9.5/10 HP]
She hums softly in pleasure, pleased with the destruction she was able to create. Hm. Though, was it that girl's body that was lying upon the ground now, singed and destroyed? Ah well. It didn't matter. She had been quite the pest anyway. Zephia would rather have her blood on her hands than have such an annoyance buzzing around her head.
She was so sure sheâd died before that she isnât sure how to feel when she comes to, lying on the ground, feeling it shake under her trembling body. She lays there, dazed, until she feels warmth blooming in her chest.Â
Faith. Healing.Â
â...stand...âÂ
Such a simple command. Surely she can follow it.Â
She takes the knightâs outstretched hand and pulls herself to her feet, still dizzy from the last battle. A lance is in her hands, and it sparks with thunder magic. She shifts it from supporting her body to pointed in front of her, and she focuses what little attention she has on the enemy ahead.Â
It towers. She tightens her grip and lunges forward.Â
Fury 7/10HP attacks Hyaenid Husk 15/15HP* with Shockstick! [Roll: 9; -3.5HP, Hyaenid Husk 11.5/15HP*]
Furyâs Resonance activates! [Fury 6/10HP]
Hyaenid Husk is Stunned! Hyaenid Husk is broken!
She feels the lance demand a price in return for the violence she inflicts, but can barely stagger back before a second beast, one she hadnât even seen, lunges for her in vengeance.Â
She stumbles back as sheâs pierced through again, and sinks down to her knees. Why had she awakened at all, if she was just going to fall again? She canât even force an apology to her lips, a single thank you to the man that healed her.Â
Perhaps it is a blessing she is so tired, as the pain is dull against her mind as she sinks back into the darkness.Â
Harken is taken aback slightly by Larcei's outburst, but he cannot deny the truth to her frustrated words. Regardless of where the blame lay, that was irrelevant while in the midst of battle. They needed to focus on their foe, and make sure everyone made through this with as little injury as possible.
It was training -- strange, magical training but training nonetheless -- but injuries or accidents could still occur.
The bird releases his leg when a bout of fire scores a direct hit against the cage Larcei is trapped in; the beast flies off towards this new interloper to its prize, and Harken is left in horrified silence as the flames lick at not only the structure of the cage, but Larcei herself.
It isn't until the terrible screeches of the beast suddenly ring in his ears that Harken realizes he's lost some time. The cage is still burning, the fight is still ongoing -- and the bird is streaking back across the bright blue sky towards him. He can see two of the others in their group locked in rather disadvantaged combat with the remaining human enemies, but he cannot see Fury from where he is.
Taking in short, frantic breaths, Harken grits his teeth against the pain in his leg and forces his body to obey him once more; picking himself up and out of the sand yet again. Shameful, shameful -- but if he was always destined to be the one left alive in a situation, the least his traitorous body could do was stand up.
He is torn between going to the defense of the rest of his group, and trying once more to get Larcei out of her now much more dangerous prison.
But the choice is removed from him before he can get close enough to make another attempt at prying open burning metal and wood. The great bird is on him once more, pining it beneath him like he'd seen many a beautiful hunting falcon do out in the field. Harken knew what was coming next as he felt its weight shift, and though the pain of that serrated beak was enough to send him into unconsciousness, it was the shame of failing so soundly when one of his own needed his aid that he would remember.
As the sounds of battle and strife faded from his ears, it was difficult to tell if it was the fire from the cage licking at his outstretched fingertips as he tried to reach Larcei, or if it was simply the sand and sun burning him between them.
Gofannon 9/10HP is outnumbered and attacks Harken 4.5/10HP with Serrated Beak! [Roll: 6; -2.5 HP, Harken 2/10HP]
Gofannon 9/10HP is outnumbered and attacks Harken 4.5/10HP again! [Roll: 19; -2.5 HP, Harken 0/10HP]
Harken is defeated!
The bird asks vengeance for Furyâs transgression.Â
She reaches out to Larcei and the bird above her screams. For a moment, she hears the bird speaking words - how dare you, youâve betrayed her, you are not worthy to stand as you are. Her green eyes are wide and desperate as they lock onto Larceiâs face, and she begs her silently for forgiveness as the birdâs beak pierces her skin.Â
The first two strikes stagger her, sending her to her knees and knocking the books she carries into the sand. She reaches for the blue tome of fire, like sheâll be able to strike again, but the birdâs claws dig into her and pin her to the sand as it strikes again, again, again.Â
Agony sinks away from her with her blood, soaking the sand below her as she feels her body ripping under the knifelike beak of the bird. The tomes lay forgotten beyond her fingertips, and the living hide sheâd donned as armor lays still, silent in the desert sun. Her vision blurs, the bird above her simply melting into shadow, silhouetted by the sun overhead, and she canât help but feel that this vision of death should be familiar to her.Â
She knows the exhaustion tugging at her eyes now. How many times has she seen it claim a life, alongside or against her lance? Her only hope is that the beast remembers what this is - a training exercise - and somehow spares her life.Â
Fury closes her eyes, and the sun fades into cold, indifferent darkness.Â
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"Shut the hell up!" Larcei shouts, a full-blown tantrum carved onto her face and the yanking on her cage more furious to match, "It's nobody's fault that I'm in here!"
As if on cue, the avian drops her cage into the sand. It takes pause to perch itself atop the bars and screeches at the top of its lungs, cutting Larcei's dialogue short.
But she won't have it. She's been so worked up by watching helplessly as her team's morale falls apart. Thinking about what Leif or Seliph would do in this situation, she breathes. Nestled within her being is the desire to seize control of this situation.
"You!" An angry finger points to the mage-dragon. "Stop blaming people and start helpin'! And you!" It changes course for the blonde, shaking with fury. "Stop blaming yourself! It ain't productive, and it makes me mad just watching it!"
Fury receives a nod for her instruction, albeit dulled by her use of fire magic. It feels wrong to add insult to injury by using it in a desert, but there's something else. The charred remains of Belhalla beckon a quiet sickness in the pit of her stomach.
Her cage sinks lower into the dunes as Gofannon takes off for her party. A tiny yelp escapes her lips when she looks down to see one half tilted and buried beneath golden grains. Things are getting dire.
And dire they get, for little Larcei is relegated to the fate of watching her teammates go blow-for-blow. She winces every time they're struck and refocuses onto the scene when they strike back. It is the push and pull of battle she has come to know.
She saves her breath. The enemies appear deaf to her cries, so insults are pointless. The bulk of her energy goes toward trying to bust, pry, or shake her cage open. Nothing works.
Harken's sickle slices one of the bars on its wide arc, lighting a fuse in her Isaachian eyes. It doesn't break quite yet, but the scratch is deep, and Larcei gets to work sticking her fingers in the gap to open it further.
When Gofannon attacks, however, she flinches. "Watch out!" And it connects. She fruitlessly bends down to scoop up a handful of sand and chuck it at its plumage.
The cry is out of her mouth only moments after the fire sparks again to her fingers. The girl is screaming now and something deep in Furyâs mind pushes her to free her. But before she can calm herself enough to release the flames, there is a presence behind her and a spearhead in her side.Â
She shouts, wraps a hand around her side, the flames momentarily fading. Itâs only then that sheâs reminded how unused she is to ground combat, and how unsteady she feels just on her own two feet. A second, the man with the axe sheâd burned before, lunges to strike, but sheâs just quick enough to dart out of the way this time.Â
Fury calls the flame again to her hand and breathes out, and it strikes true.Â
Fury 9/10HP hits Sreng Warrior 1.5/10HP with Sea Fire [Roll: 6 + 6 = 12; -2.5HP, Sreng Warrior 0/10HP]
Sreng Warrior is defeated!
She turns her attention back to the cage as the warrior falls.Â
âLarcei! Move away from the bars!â The flame returns to her fingers, and before anyone can tell her to stop, itâs released.Â
Fury 9/10HP attacks the Cage with Sea Fire [Roll: 11; -1.5HP, Cage 2.5HP]Â
Cage + Larcei are Burned! im so sorry
The fire hits the cage and begins to melt the bars, but itâs a hungry flame, and it forces its way inside, to feed on the girl trapped within.Â
âI- no!â This wasnât supposed to happen. It was supposed to work. For a moment, there is dread in her fingertips, a fear she canât name, and something in her screams for her to put the tome down and pick up a weapon she knows, something she understands. Her feet begin to take her towards the cage, reaching like she can call the fire back, like she can undo what sheâs done. âI- Iâm sorry!â
As soon as they officially enter the bounds of the arena, things shift.
The walls of the monastery -- white and guarding, and cool in the nest of mountainous peaks it resides in -- fades away to harsh sunlight, burning sands and heat waves adding a distorted view of what could be miles upon miles of desert.
Harken blinks rapidly against the sudden, bright onslaught of heat and light. There's no shade, no spit of anything around them but sand dunes and sky. It feels like they're here only seconds, and yet sweat is quick to break out beneath armor and thick clothing. Shielding his eyes from the sun, Harken takes quick note of their group, losing his footing a bit in the sand -- and frowning when he realizes that they're missing one.
"My ladies, please stay close, we appear to be missing lady Larc--"
Harken's hurried words are cut off by the triumphant shriek of a truly massive bird. It sparkles with flecks of gold and ember, almost painfully bright in the glare of the desert sun as its wings kick up plumes of gritty sand. There are men trailing along behind it, carrying something between them.
A cage. Hardly big enough to fit a person, but -- with the young woman's voice calling out clearly, and her arm waving between the bars as best she was able -- it is now clear how their missing party member was lost. Taken-- right out from underneath their noses! Perhaps it happened in the shift as they entered, but any such thoughts were simply excuses to Harken's mind.
Regardless of their stations within the monastery, it was his duty to protect this group.
And he had already allowed one to be captured. No. Not again. Training or not, he would not let this happen again!
"Hold fast, Lady Larcei! We shall have you out as soon as possible!" Harken returns the young woman's calls for aid, hefting his weapon -- not one he is overly familiar with, but he'd used throwing axes before -- in hand before pulling back and letting it loose.
His aim was true, but the blade does little more than bounce off his target's light armor.
Harken 10/10HP barely hits Sreng Warrior 10/10HP with Throwing Sickle at range [Roll: 2 = 2; -O, Sreng Warrior 10/10HP]
Sreng Warrior cannot counterattack.
Throwing Sickle was used in ranged combat, bonus attack activated. [Roll: 3] Bonus attack fails.
Itâs all Fury can think as the world fades and reforms around them, pulling her lance from her grasp and pressing books into her arms instead. Now, sheâs clad in dark robes that threaten to consume her, shifting around her body like theyâre alive. She swallows, once, relishing the sensation. Her mouth will dry out before long.
The gameâs already begun by the time she blinks the sun out of her eyes, as one of their companions is being carried off in a cage barely big enough to contain her. The only shade is the shadow of a bird, immense and terrible, above them. Fury reaches out a hand, to follow the lead of the knight she follows, and magic dances on her fingertips, sparks at her palm.Â
The knight hurls something - a strange sort of throwing axe - at one of the soldiers holding the cage, but the attack bounces off. Fury steps in behind him, closing her eyes and breathing out to release the blue fire from her fingertips.Â
But thatâs not all it does - the fire races across him, glowing blue with vengeance, ready to sink back into his body at any opportunity, and the poisoned barbs of her intent drag lines into his skin.Â
âLarcei! Weâre coming for you!â She calls to her captured companion, pulling her hand back. âJust stay out of reach of their weapons!â
Gauntlet+1, @heavensdevotion & @cutestrival
The market had been a bustling commotion. It was the start of a new week, after all, and vendors enthusiastically called for any pleasure of the tongue: meats, teas, greens, fish. The noontime sun cast Elfire down from above, causing the wild colors atop shops to become flashy and shine. A pair of unassuming individuals had slowly detached themselves from the crowd, looking for a quiet spot to reap their spoils.
A pair of crows set down above the two, silently watching just outside the edge of the marketplace. Tied to their signpost was a weathered wagon pulled by a couple of tired cows. Selena sat down to eat on the back of the hay cart. The owner was nowhere to be seen, so she figured they wouldnât mind for their quick meal. The two had been walking all day, after all: Selena, excited at the prospect of alternate clothes to the student uniform, had tugged Fury along beyond the walls of the monastery.Â
âThereâs enough room for both of us, see? Stop worrying!â
Though her partner remained hesitant, Selena began to unwrap one of her purchases. Though no longer as steaming as it had been, the aroma of meat, bread, and various spices wafted comfortably through the air. Her mouth watered. Her paltry breakfast seemed like ages ago (most of the time spent on tying up her hair). She raised it to her lips.
A wild force hit the cart, and she was launched. Stumbling, the merc managed to right herself, but her food went careening into a puddle. Hay was strewn every which way. Selena glared into the murky water.
âMy sandwich! What the hell was that for?â
Furious, she wheeled around to see what caused this abhorrent interruption. A group of thugs had pushed themselves into the marketplace, going out of their way to rile any parked animals and knock over anyone in their way. The shops emptied immediately, scared customers running inside or away. The cows pulling the hay cart, startled, had managed to bump into the signpost.Â
Selena seethed. Gods, I am SO HUNGRY. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME! She marched up to the largest group of impudent bozos, hunger in her stomach and wrath in her eyes.
âHey, buddy, you think you can just mess with me? NO ONE messes with me like that!âShe glanced back quickly at Fury, who had followed her to her confrontation. Selenaâs eyes pleaded, LET ME AT THEM! LET ME AT THEM!
Sheâd had a bad feeling since they left the monastery.Â
Fury had been convinced to explore the marketplaces outside the walls on her day off, searching for something new to wear on days she didnât need armor. Thankfully, sheâd been able to catch someone already going, and sheâd been even luckier that she had an eye for fashion, something Fury still lacked.Â
Her companion - Selena, she said her name was - had dragged her through stores and stalls, pointing out whatever she thought looked so delicious or so cute, but Furyâs bag still sat mostly empty on her back. Nothing so far had caught her eye, not like the simple green clothes she wore at home. At least now they were pausing to look back on their morning, and maybe Selena would realize that Fury was having no luck.Â
Sheâd at least found something delicious to eat for lunch - a sandwich stuffed with meat and spices, and Selena had been so taken with it that sheâd gotten one for herself. Sheâd planted herself on the back of a hay cart now, despite Furyâs protests, and unwrapped the sandwich.Â
Their excitement was cut short as the cart was struck from the other side, knocking Selena into the mud. Before she could blink, Selena was back on her feet, ready to attack the people responsible, who were already half-focused on a brawl breaking out in the street.Â
She has no weapons, right? Surely she doesnât intend to join this fight...Â
âSelena! Itâs alright, really. I still have mine, and donât mind sharing with you. We can keep moving-âÂ
A punch, thrown in her direction-
-her boots catching on themselves-Â
-a fist, connecting straight into her stomach.Â
Fury doubled over, clutching her stomach. She felt hands grabbing onto her backpack, trying to tug it away from her, and she could only back up, shaking her shoulders to get them to let go.Â
âSelena-!â She called, eyes sparking with panic. âWe may have to fight our way out of this.â Her gaze returned to the street back to the monastery, completely blocked by the fight.Â
I hope youâre better at fighting without weapons than I am.
She straightened herself up, taking a deep, careful breath, curling her hands into fists. She stepped forward, ducking past the man whoâd punched her, but only found more ready to attack. Her punch this time connected, but didnât seem to do much damage as the man swung his counterattack. She stepped back, dodging the hit, then glanced back to see if Selena was still behind her.Â
âI think I see a path, but weâll have to fight to get there!â
oh, if youre going take the train so i can hear it rumble, one last rumble. and when you go, take this heart, iâll make no more use of it when thereâs no more you.
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She should have turned back, she should have taken him with, she should have-
Well. None of that mattered now. She feels herself asking "really? Is he truly?" but she doesn't need to ask. The very fact she was being told was proof enough.
She feels herself sinking to the floor, and though someone reaches to support her she slips through their arms.
Lewyn. I've failed you.
Her eyes well with tears but she makes no sound as they fall. She feels her chest hollowing, as fresh shock and grief drains her soul.
"But- the children," she whispers, a hand rising from her lap to wipe at her tears, even as she knows she'll fill the ocean again before they stop.
Someone takes her hands and pulls her back to standing, begins to lead her back down the hallway, supporting her by her shoulders. Quiet whispers of sympathy drip from their mouths, but Fury does not here them.
All she can picture in her mind is the fire, the hellfire, she'd abandoned him in, and she can only beg for his forgiveness now.
Fury had spent the last few days searching through the castle, asking anyone who seemed approachable, but there was nothing but rumors on the wind and idle talk of a wandering bard.Â
(Sheâd asked about Silesse, as well, but had gotten no answers for that either.)Â
Finally, though, she had a solid lead - a classmate, who knew where heâd be. Said he liked to skip class and find a spot as close to the clouds as he could. So now she ran through the halls, searching like she always had.Â
She bursts out of the door, pauses in the warm afternoon sun, letting her eyes adjust to the light. She scans, keen eyes finally alighting on a familiar figure, and before she can even begin to think about etiquette-Â
âLewyn!âÂ
Her face breaks into a radiant smile, and her pace picks up, but not with desperation, with joy.Â
âLewyn! Iâm so glad to see you!â She throws her arms around him, pulls him as close as she dares. âI thought you were in Belhalla, with everyone else.â Her eyes are wide with excitement. âDid you leave them early? And why are you here, instead of at home?â
Any pegasus knight worth the lance she carried knew how to recover from a fall from their mount, but Fury had never had a pegasus vanish from under her before.Â
She crouched on the ground, having barely kept herself upright, blinking against the sudden flash of the noontime sun. Her lance lay in the spring grass next to her, the spearhead blindingly polished, screaming for her attention first, before she could even question the plant life under her boots. She tried to stand, but her vision blurred with dizziness, and she dropped back into her crouch to wait for it to subside.Â
Slowly, her eyes sharpened into focus again as a gloved hand tightened around the shaft of her lance. The trees around her stretched nearly to the clouds, and their height alone would have made them noteworthy, but she couldnât recall hearing of them. She attempted to stand again, using her lance to support herself. Another flash of dizziness, but she at least remained standing this time.Â
It was perhaps silly of her to wonder if she was still in Jugdral. Sheâd heard tales, rumors of portals and other worlds before, but she dismissed the thought just as quickly as it came. No, something else must have happened. A freak storm, blowing her off course, but the sky had been clear (except the smoke behind her, of course, but that was the fire of celebration, nothing to worry about).Â
Knight of Silesse pushed her way out of the trees to assess her surroundings. Keen eyes caught a castle, sitting proudly on top of a nearby hill, and almost on instinct her boots began to walk towards it.Â
A castle will surely have knights inside. They can direct me back to Silesse.Â
Her steps took her towards the iron gate of the castle, guarded by a lone woman with a helmet over her eyes. The woman was unarmed, save for a red-covered book at her side, held onto her thick robes by countless belts. The helmet was rather- out of place, for a mage...Â
âHello, miss!â The guard leaned out from her niche in the heavy stone wall, waving to catch her attention. âIâd put the lance away if I were you.âÂ
âExcuse me?â Fury paused, pointed her lance-tip downwards. âI mean no harm.âÂ
âI donât think you do! But just in case. Monasteryâs well guarded, you know.âÂ
âMonastery? So this isnât a castle? There are no knights inside?âÂ
âI mean, there are knights inside, but theyâre the monasteryâs knights. Knights of Seiros, you know.â Fury didnât know, but decided to press on in her questioning.Â
âIt doesnât matter. I only need directions.âÂ
âOh, youâre lost? I can try to help, but Iâm awful at giving directions.âÂ
âDo you know which direction I must go to get to Silesse?â The guard paused, pushed the rim of her helmet out of her eyes to stare down at Fury.
âNever heard of the place. Sorry.âÂ
âHow can that be? Youâve heard of the Silessian pegasus knights, have you not?âÂ
âNo, sorry.â The guard shook her head. âWeâve got pegasus knights, and plenty of pegasi in the stables, but I donât know where they come from. Maybe itâs Silesse.â The guard tilted her head, the helmet sliding to the side. It really was too big on her...Â
âIs there... anyone you could ask? Do you think any of the knights this monastery would know?âÂ
âNah, I canât leave this spot. Someoneâs got to watch the gate, and thatâs what theyâre paying me for. But...â Something glittered in the guardâs eyes, uneven helmet letting the sun strike her face. âYou could go in and ask them yourself.âÂ
âYes, that would be ideal. Please, open the gate.âÂ
âNot so fast!â The guard kicked her feet back and forth. âIâve got to ask questions first. I canât just let anybody in here. Itâs a school too, you know!â Again, Fury did not know, but she refused to back down now.Â
âWhat are the questions? How long will they take?âÂ
âOnly a few minutes. Itâs not an exam,â the guard scoffed. âThere are only three questions. You have time for that?âÂ
â...if it will turn my path back towards Silesse, I suppose I have time.âÂ
âGreat! Awesome.â The guard straightened up in her seat, pushed the helmet back another time.Â
âCanât they get you a better-fitting helmet?âÂ
âNope. Believe me, Iâve asked. But if itâs so distracting...â She pulled it off her head, revealing reddish hair that stuck up from static. âAnyway, you ready?âÂ
âYes. You may ask your questions.âÂ
âQuestion one!â The guard held up a single finger. âWhat has brought you to where you are today?âÂ
Fury paused to consider the question. How would she begin to describe the winding road that sheâd followed all the way here? More importantly, how would she describe herself as from a country this guard seemed to believe didnât exist?Â
âI was born and raised in Silesse, the country Iâm attempting to get to. All my life, I dreamed of joining the pegasus knights. Theyâre heroes in Silesse, and serve the Queen directly. I befriended the Prince, Lewyn, when I was young, and we remained friends all our lives.â It felt strange, now, to refer to him as Prince and not husband, but she hadnât gotten that far yet. The guard, however, frowned at the name. âSorry, have you heard of him?âÂ
âDoesnât matter. Keep going, sorry.âÂ
âI joined the Four Heavenly Knights when I was young - a group of commanders serving my Queen, but I wasnât there for too long before the Prince disappeared.â Her hand tightened, almost imperceptibly, around the lance. âAfter that, I was assigned by my Queen to go search for him.â No need to mention that she had begged for the mission in private. No more details than necessary to get home. âI went looking for him, while my elder sister, Annand, and the other two commanders remained in Silesse. I searched the entire continent for Lewyn, but I was deceived. I was told the Prince was being held captive by Lord Sigurd, when in fact he had allied with them. When I realized my mistake and allied with Lord Sigurd as well, the other two commanders betrayed us. They helped to cause a civil war to break out in Silesse. I fought alongside Lord Sigurd to bring peace back to Silesse. After the war, Lewyn and I were married.â She canât help but pause, smile softly at the thought, but it shifts away as she returns to her task. âAfter Lord Sigurd was denounced as a traitor, we resolved to help him clear his name. That battle was hard fought, but successful as well. Lord Arvis invited us to a procession in which Lord Sigurd would be pardoned, but I declined to go. Lord Lewyn went for the both of us.â A grim look crossed the guardâs face, almost too quick for Fury to notice.Â
âI see,â she said slowly. âWell, as far as I know, your husband is here.âÂ
âHe is?â A step closer, a spark in her eyes. âBut- heâs meant to be in Belhalla, celebrating Lord Sigurdâs return...âÂ
âYou should ask him about it. From what Iâve heard heâs got quite a story.âÂ
âAllow me inside, so I may speak with him!â She hated how quickly her lips turned to pleading, but the expression on the guardâs face softened.Â
âLook, you just have to finish up the questions and I can let you in.â Fury paused, loosened her grip on the lance.Â
âOkay. I will answer.âÂ
âThank you. Question two.â The guard held up an appropriate amount of fingers. âWhat are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?âÂ
Before Fury could pause her thinking to consider the question, memories of Lewyn, her sister, everyone sheâd ever trained with telling her that she was too earnest, too trusting, not quite a fighter. Her sister in particular had commented once that she didnât have a warriorâs face. The thought made her stomach turn. Only one of them was alive as a warrior today, after all.
âI am more than competent with a lance,â she began. Best not to lead with what made her weak - showed that it was on her mind. âI am experienced in combat in the air, and once I have a goal I will not stop pursuing it until it is complete.â A pause, like she was thinking, but sheâd never been a great actor. âI have been told I show what I am thinking on my face. I do not believe this to be a weakness, but I have been told it is.â The guard nodded.Â
âOkay. Last question. If a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play?â She opened her mouth to answer-
-and faltered.Â
âI...â What would she be remembered as, after she was gone? A loyal knight, trailing her lord and husband? Or a girl who never quite grew up, always with her eyes full of stars and tears? âI am a knight. I would like to be remembered as such.â For a moment, the image of her, kneeling at his feet, shone in her mind, and she couldnât stop a faint smile from crossing her face. The guard sat back against the wall, satisfied.Â
âThank you. I just need to know your name and I can open the gates.âÂ
âFury,â she answered. âFury of Silesse.âÂ
âItâs nice to meet you, Fury. I hope you find what youâre looking for.â And with a flick of her wrist, the gate opened.
[ wipe ] sender wipes away receiver's tears
[ hurt ] sender hurts receiver with words
[ lonely ] sender finds receiver alone in a dark room
[ wounded ] sender patches up receiver's wounds
[ crying ] sender finds receiver crying
[ help ] sender runs to receiver when they scream for help
[ nightmare ] sender wakes receiver up from a nightmare
[ dying breath ] sender talks to receiver before dying
[ hold on ] sender pulls receiver into their arms
[ anger ] sender takes their anger out on receiver
[ argue ] sender gets into a heated argument with receiver
[ scared ] sender scares receiver
[ sick ] sender cares for receiver while they are sick
[ palm ] sender places a hand on receiver to stop them from doing something
[ fight ] sender gets into a physical fight with receiver
[ comfort ] sender tries to comfort receiver
[ blood ] sender notices that receiver is bleeding
[ collapse ] sender collapses into receiver's arms
[ pressure ] sender puts pressure on receiver's wound
[ slap ] sender slaps receiver in the face
[ panic ] sender helps receiver through a panic attack
[ lie ] sender catches receiver in a lie
[ sobs ] sender sobs uncontrollably while receiver holds them
[ hiding ] sender finds out that receiver has hidden an injury from them
[ death ] sender just died, receiver finds out
[ chin up ] sender lifts receiver's chin to stop them from hiding their tears
[ fears ] sender talks to receiver about their fears
[ scream ] sender screams at receiver
[ coping ] sender teaches receiver some coping mechanisms
[ loss ] sender is there for receiver after they've lost someone important to them
[ needs ] sender asks receiver what they need
[ bullet ] sender takes a bullet for receiver
[ bruises ] sender finds bruises of unknown origin on receiver
[ rainfall ] sender finds receiver out alone in the rain
[ hospital ] sender wakes up in a hospital bed and finds receiver sitting by their bedside
[ intrude ] sender walks in on receiver treating their wounds
[ calming ] sender tries to calm down receiver
[ inspection ] sender holds receiver's face while inspecting an injury they got
[ rescue ] sender carries receiver to safety
[ clean ] sender cleans blood off of receiver's body
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hello all! itâs red again, back with another woman with romance issues! i just wanted to clear up a few things about her portrayal and all that.Â
iâll be using her japanese name, fury! iâve always liked the feel of it more than erinys. i use the names interchangeably when speaking so i might call her both names in discord but all posts on this blog will use fury.Â
she is taken from just after belhalla, but since she left before the procession began, she narrowly escaped the fire. she fell through a portal on the way back to silesse, so sheâs mostly unaware of the end of gen one. (yikes)
sheâs married to lewyn! no issues there :)
iâll be putting up a plotting call/her interview soon! very excited to return to jugdral.Â
anyone and everyone is welcome in her inbox! iâll also be reblogging an ask meme or two on her soon.Â
