Genuflection

[Denunciator]

Hi all. To those who know me IRL, do not smexpose. Thanks, and enjoy.

Prologue

gen·u·flect (jěn'yə-flěkt')
intr.v. gen·u·flect·ed, gen·u·flect·ing, gen·u·flects

1. To bend the knee or touch one knee to the floor or ground, as in worship.
2. To be servilely respectful or deferential; grovel.
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The storm trooper waved his hands, and his platoon rounded the corner, guns leveled. Around them, a snowstorm was beginning to whip up, and the officer simply didn't want to get caught in it, nor be responsible for any soldier's death through his inaction. As they ran off into the darkening snowfields, a small figure emerged from the remnants of the weapon and armor store, blood smeared all over his tiny hands. Only 4 years in age, he couldn't comprehend war; in fact, the only thing he could comprehend was that all his friends and his family were dead, dead by the hands of troops from some far off land, using superior weapons. El Nath hadn't stood a chance.
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8 years later...

The 12-year-old knelt before the gravestones, tears dropping onto the damp soil. The mages had certainly done a good job of keeping it free of snow, but that thought barely registered over his regret and anger. "I wish I had been strong enough then..." As fresh bouts of crying racked him, he raised his right hand out, three fingers extended, and whispered, between breaths, "I swear... I'll do anything for revenge. Anything."

He had no idea.

[Denunciator]

Chapter 1: Exposition

Classified
Operation Snowstorm [2002]

Date: 24th December
Time of commencement: 2359h

Objective: Eradicate any possible threat that Ossyrian soldiers pose without alerting any authorities.
Survivors: None


Date of completion: 25th December
Time of completion: 1207h

Mission objective accomplished.
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Alex looked up at the bleak sky. All around him, people were busy stringing their bows, holding mini-competitions to see who could restring the fastest. It seemed as if it were about to rain over Henesys, and he packed, ready to leave at the slightest notice. Can't stand the noise... he muttered at the surroundings, and headed for the shade of a large tree. Solitariness was a relief from the mayhem of bubbling 12 year olds. Brushing a golden strand of hair from his eyes, he leveled his bow, pulling back the string. A familiar tension built up under his fingers, making him relaxed yet straining his soul; it was a weird conflict, and yet they did co-exist, at least for him. Aiming for the opposite tree, he let go of the string gently, and a light "twang" sound brushed his ears, soothing him. A breeze brushed his hair, forcing him to blink twice. Apparently, this was supposed to be a ceremony to choose the three best bowmen that would be the disciples of Athena Pierce, and who would be mentored by her for four years, until they came of age. This certainly didn't seem like it; even the teachers were laid back, talking and relaxing.

A sudden silence fell upon those at the hill. The breeze grew stronger, stopping short of wind. Alex shook his head slightly, as if clearing some buzzing noise from it; he looked around. Everyone had frozen, but they were still capable of conscious thought and communications, as proven by the people who looked like they were straining to escape invisible bonds freezing every muscle and tendon in their body. A cloaked figure walked up the hill, and for every step he took, everyone winced... everyone but Alex; he was riveted by it, yes, but he could also move under the pressure that was now binding all in the area. Drawing his bow, he fired a random shot, and the figure disappeared...

In the moment that he took to blink from recoil, everything went back to normal - it was as if nothing had changed, nothing had taken place; conversation resumed. Lowering his arm, he let his bow drop to the ground, confused. He took a tentative step forward and caught sight of a figure approaching the hill, wearing a beige hooded cloak; the bow at her back unmistakable.

AN: "It wasn't noticing the mistake that was the problem, it was pointing it out. If one knew the mistake of the teacher but didn't correct it, and nobody else did so, then you had one piece of knowledge and subsequently, advantage over the other students." - Ender's Shadow

"Athena..." Alex breathed, with amazement bordering on reverence. Even though he'd passed her in the corridors of the Institution more than once, she still exuded the aura of power and accuracy, of being able to read every thought without deviation. The knowledge that powered her was the source of everyone's fear, and therefore it was a great mob control method; she was said to be able to tame every dragon in the land and frighten them into serving her purposes, a power he'd love to have. As she finally mounted the crest of the hill, everyone stood up, gripping their bows tightly - the fun and joy had given way to panic and pressure. The selection test had finally arrived. Walking up, Athena reached for her hood, and Alex gasped; Athena never unhooded herself, even within the Institution. What was making her do so now? Or did she deem them ready...

Everyone's jaw dropped. Behind the hood was a girl, no more than four years above their age; even the teachers gave audible gasps. Alex stammered, "But... but... Athena was one of the fighters against Ergoth long ago-" The girl merely raised an eyebrow, and replied, "Athena isn't her name, fool. The phrase 'Athena Pierce' is merely a title given to the best bowman and that grants them absolute power in Henesys. That's all." Alex felt betrayed - the Athena that he worshiped, no more than a teenager? Before he could seriously contemplate the full repercussions of the situation, she called out, "Okay, the selection test now begins."

Seeing no reaction, she rolled her eyes and continued, “You guys probably already know the criterion for selection; simply put, you are to fire an arrow at a target; the five highest scorers continue on to the next round, and then the three best get a 4 year training session with me. Simple?” Everyone stared in disbelief, the message in their eyes clear: “Us? Train with you?” Finally irritated, she leveled her Dragon Shiner and faced it towards the crowd; merely gently pulling and letting go of the string, she caused a pressure pulse that knocked everyone to the ground; Alex was the first to get up, eyes blazing. The girl tilted her head and spoke in a cold tone, far from her warmness less than five minutes previously. “Have I proven myself, or do I need to continue?” Muttering arose as everyone stood up; Athena snapped her fingers and scarecrows rose from the ground, complete with a target in their centers. “Remember, though, that if none of you get close to the bull’s-eye, nobody gets chosen at all.”

One by one, everyone took their turns; Alex began panicking. Amongst them, already five had struck the target; certainly, she wasn’t watching out for accuracy now, but style, posture, bow handling – the little details he hadn’t bothered to take note of. After all, a bow was a weapon, not an artifact to be flaunted – why does one have to use a bow stylishly? He was shocked to the present when he realized that everyone was staring at him; the girl’s gaze, especially, seemed to bore through him like a lance; gripping his bow as tightly as he could, he drew the string backwards and fired…

A complete miss, almost three feet above the target. His hands were shaking, the bow trembling obviously; the girl now looked at him curiously. “Are you… okay?” The gentle tone was the last thing he heard before passing out.
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Below the crest, a young girl, hair tied in a ponytail, was speaking into a cellphone. "Target knocked out." Whipping her head backwards, she let her silver ponytail trail behind her; shutting the cell, she dropped it into the pocket of her Avarice, drawing in place two throwing stars. "It's time to fulfill destiny," she whispered, and cast Dark Sight. With a puff, she vanished into the darkness of the trees, moving stealthily towards the unconscious body of Alex.

Chapter 2

[WriterInHiding]

Not bad. Interesting format that is different than most fanfics out here although it still has that stereotype "unknown figure staring/thinking/brooding....and then cut to the present scene."

But PLEASE tell me that was the first paragraph of chapter 1 because it's getting downright ridiculous how many fanfics have only a few sentences and expect us as readers to accept it as an entire chapter. Real life novels don't have chapters only one paragraph long and I've begun to lose interest in any fic that does.

[Denunciator]

My bad, was away at a class chalet that lasted 3 days. Back now, and it's the hols, so I'll update. And yes, it was the first paragraph of Chapter 1 :P

[Denunciator]

Completed Ch. 1. Sorry for the delay, was busy.

Chapter 2: Legerdemain

"Get them now!" the Ranger cried, raising his bow towards the sky; the assassins merely laughed and casted Haste; the air around them warped as an anti-gravity well was set up, allowing them to defy the gravity that was now making traveling cumbersome for the bowmen. As throwing stars rained down, the rangers screamed and ran in all directions, order forgotten and dropped. As the last of the bowmen straggled off the battlefield, Athena deemed it safe to arrive; standing alone, she was immediately surrounded by the assassins, sneering loudly at the queen of bowmen standing there, unarmed. Just as they leapt for the final kill, she summoned a bow and a shield; the volley of stars merely clanged off the latter, and she leapt higher than any of them; shocked, they could only stare as she aimed and fired. A single black arrow shot towards the ground and it dissolved; the sand started flowing inwards, pulling the sea from the distance. "Gravity Distortion..." the Dark Lord mused, arriving as well. Turning, Athena's eyes blazed as she fired another arrow...
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Alex cursed the moment his eyelids fluttered open; his back was in severe agony, and his arm appeared to be bound to whatever he was lying on... before he could attempt escape, a gentle voice called out, "Don't bother. It's reinforced titanium." Alex swore again, but she pretended not to take notice and continued, "You can't say I didn't treat you well though," walking out with a tray; on it were two cups of water. The assassin set them down on the table and faced him; he attempted to spit, but she just stepped out of the way. "Don't be rude. I'm giving you a chance here." Immediately, his struggles ceased and she smiled. "Better. This test is an easy one - pick a cup, drink it all. If you don't get knocked out, I let you free. Nothing happens if you get knocked out. Deal?" Alex was now giving her his full and undivided attention, concentrating as best as he could in his pain.

After three minutes of staring, Alex finally got the point that he was supposed to do something, and he turned his attention to the cups barely within his reach. The liquids inside looked exactly the same, having the same volume, texture and transparency. Shutting his eyes, he decided to let destiny guide him - grabbing a cup at random, he downed it all. In five seconds flat, he felt giddy, and slumped against the table. Sheer will kept him conscious, trying to saw away at the bonds that were now tightening. Tears of pain and despair streamed down his face and fell onto the metal table. As his chest was squeezed and his breath tightened, he felt reality wane away and the present and past wind together in a myriad of colors, becoming a mural that he was now speeding through. Darkness crept in from the corners of his sight, resembling the shutting aperture of a telescope. All of a sudden, he felt the pressure release and he sat up, groaning in pain as blood rushed back to his abdomen; he then realized that his shirt hadn't been on since he'd woken up. The assassin had her back to him, and she was squatted on the ground; upon moving closer, he heard gentle sobbing and whispering. He could barely make out the words "I can't" again and again, as she rocked back and forth. A wave of pity striking Alex, he knelt down and stroked her back, whispering, "It's fine, just stop crying, okay?" Taking it as a good sign that she didn't shrug it off, he continued his arm movement, his mind numb.

Am I crazy? I'm actually comforting the person who tried assassinating me! I bet both drinks were ****ged, so she'd feel easier about killing an unconscious person, except that I'd held out...

She suddenly stood up. "Leave, and don't come back." Shocked, Alex tried protesting but nothing came out except "But my armor..." Striding over to a nearby cupboard, she retrieved the green topwear and threw it over; he caught it and almost let go in surprise. It was still warm, possibly from being washed - in addition, it had been neatly folded, as could be seen from the light fold creases lining a perfect cross. He stroked it absently, staring at her. To his surprise, she didn't attempt to chase him out anymore, merely staring at him. Dazedly, Alex stood up and put on the armor, sitting at the edge of his former confinements. She was still standing there; in that moment, Alex felt something strike him, some inexplicable change in the surroundings that threatened to suffocate everyone in the room. Am I the only one affected? Why is she standing there so nonchalantly? Suddenly, a throwing star hit his collar and pinned him to the wall; the girl was... laughing? "Nice try, gal," he growled, pulling out the star; immediately, three more whizzed past his ear. She hadn't moved an inch, but a little smile lined her face.

"Sleight of hand. It's fantastic, don't you think? By the way, name here's Reika." For the first time, Alex studied her. Her face was young, but it conveyed a sense of maturity about it - her eyes accentuated this point. Inside, it seemed to reverberate with knowledge and power, and how to use it to her best advantages. Her shoulder-length hair was tied in a neat ponytail; silver in color, it seemed to have trap all the shine of the night and stored it inside. The name suits her somehow... especially the hair - it's beautiful. As his eyes trailed, he checked himself and returned her courtesy, "I'm Alex. Twelve this year. Turning thirteen soon though." She nodded and gave him a once-over; he looked at himself behind the mirror. Short hair with a slight spike accentuating a thin face; he was perfectly un-remarkable, and that was good. Apparently pleased, she said, "What about we find a proper place to rest?" Alex nodded, and stepped out tentatively; he gasped when he realized where he was - the fabled Kerning City. What shocked him more wasn't the fact that he was in a completely foreign town; the main problem was that there were almost two dozen thieves, mostly Assassins, on the street, and they were headed his way, malicious grins lining their faces.
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The Dark Lord slashed at one of his subordinates, and with a cry, everyone in the room fell. Angered, he stomped around the room; the hormones and adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream did him no good. Stabbing his dagger into the wood, he swore. "That idiot Athena, who does she think she is?" Turning, he stared into the mirror and studied his own expression. Blond hair, swept backwards; black cloak and armor, and a claw and dagger - the previous Lords all prided themselves on being ambidextrous; he was now going to use that to his advantage. Alex, descendant of Jakito...

Chapter 3

[xdgr]

Probably better if you'd add an -incomplete- or -not finished- so as to not provoke people like WriterInHiding. :|

[Denunciator]

Noted, thank you very much for commenting (:

[Denunciator]

Author's Note

2 chapters in. Each chapter has been at least a thousand words long, so I expect this will be as long. In this chapter, the reader learns about the enemity between the Bowmen and Thieves, and how it arose after the legendary defeat of the Ragnarok at the hands of Artemis. Please keep me motivated by posting reviews, be it constructive or negative criticism.

Thanks!

Chapter 3: Enemity

There is a room in the hall of Bowmen that are forbidden to all but the Athena Pierce in office to enter. Inside details the successes of the original Athena in subduing the creatures that had invaded the small hill south of Victoria, of the building and rebuilding of the town of Henesys, of the Ragnarok's failed invasions, thwarted by Bowmen. Beyond that is a small chamber that details ongoing events, the most major of which is the war with the Assassins. On one whole wall are words written in the hand of the previous Athena:

"It pains me to say this, but the world of Bowmen are about to reach an end. Fifteen years ago, Ragnarok was slain by a group of brave fighters, a large number of which were bowmen; after that fight, the Archaeion was lost, although the last holder was a bowman. Unbeknown to anyone except the four de facto rulers of Victoria, the original job masters, the weapon was created as a pact and a symbol of union. Power, speed and stealth, accuracy and range, magic and mana control; these were the trademarks of the four rulers, and all of these qualities were put into that singular weapon which could transform. The agreement was that it would be put inside the deepest tunnels of the Cursed Sanctuary, right in the heart of the World Tree; however, adventurous Bowmasters who learnt of its truth managed to retrieve it, albeit with many injuries from the creatures that were set free within. The bow was then lost for nearly a hundred years, before the legendary Artemis summoned it. It was to be a long battle, but the Great Scorpion, Ragnarok, was defeated and sent back to slumber forever. The weapon, however, was not returned to its hiding place but instead lost; the Rouges were hit the hardest, as they had concentrated all the techniques and arts of the Thief into the Archaeion. The legendary Soul Javelin, the powers of Alchemy and the ability to control and amplify projectile force and direction at will; these were powers that Bowmen had experimented with but failed to replicate, and these were the same powers stolen by an Archer and used to defeat the Ragnarok. Although elated by its success, the current Dark Lord was also angered by the fact that a Bowman pilfered his ancestor's arts and vanished with it. These two years have been tense; I fear war is about to break out."
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Alex groaned. The moment I step out into the streets, I get greeted by a gang. What is with these people anyway? Their anger... seems to be directed towards me; the pressure is fantastic. Drawing their claws, they sheathed in their throwing stars; this move comforted him slightly - if they had to slot their throwing stars in manually, they couldn't be strong; he'd learnt not to underestimate opponents, though. Although a Red Snail was small, its shell was so hardy that you had to rapidly shoot in the same spot, so fast that the shell didn't have time to absorb the impact; not only did it require skill, it required a certain degree of power, something most Archers didn't bother to train in.

---

As they closed in, she was filled with panic. After all, these assassins were her senior classmates; although she was more skilled, by far, she'd get into trouble for blocking them... and what was far more worse: blocking them against a bowman. This was the time to face her moral conflict.

I'm tasked to kill him.
So?
I have to fulfill my task.
And?
What and?! I'm an Assassin, I was born one, and I shall be one.
You can face up to your morals?
What morals?
Hmmph. You lie to yourself.
What?
Can you face up to destroying the future of a boy of your age?
Why not?! I'm an ASSASSIN, I'm supposed to kill mercilessly!
And yet you can't. If you can, by all means, demonstrate.


"Reika!" One of the assassins called out; the girl winced at having her name shouted in the middle of the street. "Reika?" Alex queried, an eyebrow raised; wincing again, she nodded back, and swore within.

See, you can't.
Fine!
Hmm. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you like him.
What the f-
Uh uh, no swearing.

Reika tried to close her eyelids, but they involuntarily fluttered open after a couple of seconds; she was worried. The temporary truce wouldn't last long, and she'd have to pick a side of the fence - either way, it wouldn't be good. As the assassins raised their claws, she whispered "Haste" and grabbed onto the arm of Alex; in a flash, they were gone.

Shrouded in the shadows of a back alley, the Dark Lord watched as Reika raced past, dragging the bowman along; he was angered. Yet another betrayal - who could he really trust now?
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The party of warriors trod upon the beaten rocky path, anxiously looking for any sign of human life. This was the fourth day since their departure from Perion, and yet they still hadn't found any traces of biological action. In the past, things would have been easier with the Thieves around, with their keen eyes and ears; now, however, there was war brewing between the Thieves and Bowmen, and the Warriors preferred to keep out of matters - after all, picking sides wasn't a thing that Warriors were good at. The party glanced backwards furtively, worried that somebody might spot them; what they were up to was certainly no good, and they didn't want anyone to know.

---

Behind the group, a solitary figure followed, silently contemplating the situation. He knew what they were hunting for, and he knew for sure that until he died, he wouldn't let them have it. The question, though, was how long he could live.
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Subtle laws govern position ownership, especially amongst the leaders of Victoria. The four job masters each had their own ways of passing on their position; what was clear and a standard amongst the four, though, was the fact that it required more than the death of the current leader. Until the requirement was fulfilled, the position would remain empty.

Of course, a position is only, after all, a position, but being in top office had different meanings for each of the classes, meanings and effects that were not yet fully understood by outsiders - the only people who are entitled to know are those in office. And once you're inside... why would you bother giving away your secrets?

Chapter 4

[Denunciator]

Chapter 4: Betrayal

The Basilisk is an ancient creature hatched from the egg of a snake by a cockerel; thus, the only thing that it succumbs to is the crowing of one. A gigantic snake capable of being up to hundreds of meters long, it is capable of causing death by a single glance. Its venom is so powerful that it instantly kills anything which it travels on, leaving a trail of death behind it; its best special ability, though, is not that - it is capable of living a few hundred years, and that time can be extended by slumbering. One of the most bloodthirsty creatures alive along with its cousin, the cockatrice, it only awakens when the taste of fresh blood goes near it.
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Alex panted, his mind racing with questions. This Assassin, Reika... she had captured him and then released him, helping him escape from the others. Why? "What game are you playing!" he shouted at her, and she turned, annoyed. "Kerning City is not your nice Henesys. You think they were my friends? I was saving my life as much as yours; you're my kill." Alex rolled his eyes. "Reika, you would have killed me if you wanted to, long ago. Why didn't you do so?" Reika winced at her name, but remained silent, her senses alert. Around her, Kerning City was in silence, bathed in the dying light of dusk; none of the clanking sounds were present. Swearing softly, she headed down the narrow alleyway in the backstreet, trying hard not to knock against anything. Alex felt weak - he didn't have his bow, the one thing that gave him confidence. Reika whipped around and motioned for him to freeze; after watching him obey, she leapt lightly against the walls, heading all the way up.

---

On the roof, she peeked over all the edges, trying to look for any enemies near; from behind, a cold voice spoke. "What are you seeking beyond the edges of this building?" Turning, her eyes widened. "Master..." The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "You are no longer my servant." Walking towards her, he considered the decision he was making. Was it worth it, to destroy one of his best servants for a mere bowman? Perhaps it was a mind trick, perhaps she would see the light... Standing right in front of her, he put his four year advantage to good use. "Kill him, and I will forgive you." Reika's mind whirred. Why is he so intent on killing him? "Master, he is but merely a bowman amongst a hundred others... why are you so intent on destroying him?" The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes.

"You know the story of the Ragnarok, don't you?" Reika nodded her assent, trying to see the connection. "Alex... he is the son of the White Demon Jakito and the Ranger Kagome." Reika audibly gasped. Him? White Demon and Ranger... his power could potentially be limitless! Reika considered the situation. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed again. "Are you hesitating? The Bowman is our enemy, and a strong one at that. It will be more... prudent... to finish him off now." Reika still stood there, staring blankly, not heading anywhere. Glaring accusingly, he tilted his head and asked, "Developed feelings for him, have you?" Reika shook her head quickly, denying it with a calm and cool developed from years of practice out in the dangerous streets - in Kerning, one had to think quickly or get killed. She let off an aura that screamed of "lying" to him, but it was forgivable - after all, he could sense emotions and distractions as easily as if they were plastered onto his target's forehead.

Reika raised her claw, and clenched her fists; the claw tightened.

"And so it must be," the Dark Lord sighed, raising both his weapons. "This will be quick."
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The warriors had, by this time, noticed the stalker and confronted him, albeit with some distance between them. After all, he was their target, and he was strong... very strong. "Dances with Balrog, what are you doing here?" the leader of the party queried softly, a dangerous edge in his breath. He prayed that his target wouldn't notice that a party member was missing, and that they were all undefended, caught unawares. Even though they were the most elite Warriors in the entire of Perion next to Dances, armor still mattered, and they couldn't hope to win, even five on one, wearing just Battle Roads. "This is Perion, my area of jurisdiction," Dances answered calmly, "Is there anything wrong with my being around?" The warriors narrowed their eyes and dropped their cloaks; drawing their weapons, they silently challenged the king of Warriors to a fight.

Assenting, he narrowed his eyes and held out his bare hands. Around him, the little blades of grass growing rustled; behind the party, the trees of Ellinia remained silent and still.
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Reika gripped her arm, eyes narrowed. Calming herself to stave off hyperventilating, she hoped she could at least delay enough to allow Alex to escape. How fitting, that she should die saving the mortal enemy of her "race". Really, though, she couldn't see the point of hating the Bowmen; after all, the Archaeion was merely a weapon that the Thieves had put most of their strength and power into, and nothing more. Why did they have to bother so much about it, and why cause the world to erupt in chaos?

You're just in denial, the voice said, cynically, as she rolled to evade another barrage of stars. She tried not to plan ahead, since the Dark Lord could only read minds and couldn't predict impromptu actions; after a while, though, patterns became obvious, so she had to keep staying a step ahead. However, she spared enough time to answer, "If I'm in denial, I wouldn't still be rolling around. Survival instinct, much?" She shut her eyes, trying to recall without bringing to the front of her mind what she should do... Ironically, it was the Dark Lord's voice that came to her.

"Reika, your power is extensive... you are a precious asset to the Thief hierarchy, and you can't be injured at any cost. Remember, when faced against strong opponents, you must not risk everything - run away, and you'll live to fight another day." Knowing she had only one chance, she leapt off the ledge... and started the fifty-foot fall to the concrete ground of Kerning City. As she steeled herself for the landing, knowing that whatever it was, she'd only have seconds, she turned in midair-

And her top was pierced by an arrow; Alex was on the other end of Kerning, eyes narrowed; another shot, and the arrow sliced through it completely. Both shots had missed, but she was now flying out of trajectory, due south. The bowman leveled the bow again.
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Dances with Balrog summoned a gigantic mace and slammed it on the ground. The impact blew the entire party backwards, but they flipped with surprising nimbleness, righting themselves and preparing for the next shot. A Paladin tried dashing over, but his Charge Blow met a shield that had appeared in midair, shimmering gold with an emblem of a leaf. "An Achilles without a heel," the party leader commented. Dances with Balrog merely narrowed his eyes and headed forwards; in a flash, he was in front of them. The mace transformed into a longsword as he slashed; all the Warriors dodged, but they never expected the energy blast knocking all of them backwards; only the leader managed to escape by jumping; immediately, he retaliated, bringing his sword down. "Brandish..." Dances said, calmly, sidestepping the two slashes; turning, he swiftly cut into the armor of the Dragon Knight; the Battle Road shattered as both stepped backwards. Gripping the abrasion on his stomach, the Dragon Knight unleashed his trump card, the sole piece of knowledge that he was sure would turn the battle in his favor.

"Your name... it's Ares, isn't it?"
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[Denunciator]

Chapter 5a: Immolation

Flames leapt up in the snowing icefields, burning up the oxygen trapped beneath the permafrost, leaping from house to house, feeding off the little fuel it had. In moments, it had grown out of control, razing the entirety of the El Nath all the way till the Wolf Territory, where its sheer coldness and the evil that radiated within stopped its advance. Bordered by the stone walls of Orbis Tower, the fire burned its way all the way down, blazing nearly fifty feet before the snow enveloped it. In merely an hour, the entirety of El Nath had burned down, destroying what hundreds of years created.

Claire woke up with a jolt, her silvery hair rustling the pillowcase. Sitting up, she walked over to the full-length mirror, a confident stride that took her across the tent gracefully. Tilting her head, she stared into it and studied herself. The soft hazel irises stared back at her, taking in the same amount of detail as her brain was processing - the unremarkable nose; pink lips that looked smooth, unhurt by the rough drought of Perion, forming a small, cute mouth. Her face was perfectly normal, but its simplicity and its details made her one of the most attractive female Warriors in the school. Brushing a lock from her forehead, she turned and studied her hair. It was... nearly knee-length, which meant she could virtually use it as a cushion. Her hair had a habit of growing longer during the night; although she couldn't make head or tail of it, maintenance was something she didn't have to do, since her hair went back to its original length at daybreak and kept itself nice and sleek all the time.

Shrugging, she finished the last of her examination of her face, and headed down towards her body. Clad in light armor, she didn't look like a Warrior in the least bit - at least, not in terms of how she was decked out. Warriors were usually classified by clanking armor and slow movement, but she could execute somersaults neatly, without a single sound - the very qualities that Rouges priced. You're not the only one who can move as quickly as wind and stealthy as water, she thought, grabbing her long katana. The light green armor seemed to ripple slightly as a draft entered the tent, providing adequate protection against attacks short of a direct stab using a ten-foot-long spear. Otherwise, she could deal with even Copper Drakes without problem. As Claire stepped out of her tent, she savored the early morning wind brushing her hair; light was beginning to show, the pre-dawn blue tinge creeping slowly up on the sleeping stars which by now was awakening. Around her, life had started to stir, the elders preparing for the day ahead.

Cracking her neck once or twice, she stepped out towards the south, ready to be ahead of what she expected to be a hot day; immediately, a flaming ball headed towards her, thudding on her left sleeve. What had seemed to be cloth didn't burn through at all - instead, it now felt slightly like foam, absorbing the heat and spreading it throughout the cloth. She sensed only a slight warmness, comfortable in the chill, before it vanished. "Thanks, I needed that," she whispered, leaping forwards. A jump and strike to the thick skull. No damage, and it looked up and prepared to blow another ball of fire; converting the downward movement to sideway movement, she landed neatly on her left hand and sliced upwards with her right. To her disgust, the katana found cartilage and flesh, cutting into the only weakness of the creature. A loud groan, and it fell. One slain, who knew how many more thousands to go. "Damn," she said, and stepped away from the mess. It hadn't given anything of value besides maybe its backbone ridges, good for making spearheads, but she didn't want to lug it around. Just outside of town - the Spearmen could find it for themselves.

Smoothing down her armor, she examined it. No marks tarred the green cloth-like material that was pulsating, and she sighed, relieved. The "battlesuit", as the maker had termed it, was made of materials that were capable of blocking attacks and spreading magic damage, yet stay light. However it was made, she didn't care, except that it fitted very well - it covered her entire body down to her ankles, which was then covered by her boots. There was no extra cloth at all, and it curved in all the right places... getting her mind off her self-examination, she continued down the path south.

Behind her, a shadow followed.
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Chapter 5b: Astral

Alex aimed for her, a grim satisfaction filling his face. She gave him one last, desperate look that clearly asked: Is this how you repay my kindness? Shutting his left eye, he leveled his bow and fired; she saw the projectile flying at her, but because the two arrows were still lodged in her topwear, although not touching her flesh, they restricted her movement. Alex seemed to have had this planned out. The last thing she saw was a blunt tip slamming into her lower abdomen, at her waist; she thought, faintly, aren't arrows supposed to be sharp? before passing out.

---

Reika stared up blearily, looking around. Was this how the land of the dead looked like? She was sure it didn't; the tent above her betrayed the illusion. From outside, Alex entered, holding a small flask that seemed to give off a life-force. Sitting up, she cleared her head - it was still slightly fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered Alex having shot her. If he did, what was she still doing here, and why was he now bringing water to her? Just then, she began to be aware that he was staring silently, open flask still held out. Blushing, she took it and drank gratefully - questions would come later. In seconds, she had finished it entirely and barely made a sound. Understanding, he took the now empty flask and headed for the exit of the tent. Barely three minutes later, Reika groaned. Part of being a thief was developing a high metabolism rate, and that was what was doing her in - she'd already processed the water as long as she needed, and now, what she needed was a toilet.

Trying to stand, she cried out audibly and staggered to the ground, panting in a fetal position; she began to be aware of a throbbing pain in her back. Tears leaked out of her eyes - the first time in her life - dripping onto the canvas, pooling in a small puddle. Alex returned, and immediately set down the flask, running over. She didn't try resisting, but whispered, "I need... loo..." Assenting, Alex slung her right arm around his neck, carrying her in a typical rescue position; placing her on the outside, near some bushes, he turned and walked three steps away, offering a modicum of privacy, but still remained close enough to reach out if anything happened. The awkward silence lasted for a couple of minutes, then Reika sighed, and there was a momentary sound of cloth against skin. For a moment, she was tempted to tease him but decided against it - she'd do that later. Standing up, she hobbled over to Alex and tapped him on the shoulder; he'd zoned out. Leaning against his right arm, she moved with the fluency of a dancer, lying her head on his right shoulder; Alex seemed surprised, but pleased; his arm reached around, grabbing her right shoulder tightly, pulling her against his warm body.

Turning to face Alex, she gave him an awkward smile, which he returned quickly - far to quick to be normal. Laughing slightly, she teased, "What's up with your reaction?" Alex said nothing, but a small smile appeared, plastered to his usually expressionless face. It was then that Reika realized how much Alex seemed to have changed from that little venture. From silent little Alex who had been tight about everything, including emotion, he had become more open and tall, albeit retaining a little of his cool personality. Not a bad change, Reika mused. "One question I wanna ask though..." she continued. Alex raised an eyebrow and waited. "Erm... how did I escape?" Alex grinned. "Guess." Reika tried to recall, but the only thing she could remember was the two arrows incapacitating her, and the blunt one striking into her chest...

He rolled his eyes. "The two arrows were to streamline you, and the blunt one was to propel you towards the south of Kerning. Which is actually how we got here." Reika's eyebrows furrowed. "And I'm to assume you teleported me away from the Dark Lord? He is the fastest in Victoria - he's mastered Haste, for God's sake! How the hell did you get both of us away?"

---

Alex knew he only had one last chance to get her away. Now being propelled, she'd land in four seconds. Shutting his eyes, he let the mana around him flow. As he started absorbing all lifeforce from Kerning, the Sun, symbolic of life, started setting for the first time the city was built. Concentrating it on his feet, he willed them to move. A grinding start, and they were leaping along ten meters at a time; Alex concentrated on sticking his feet to the small mana particles now dragging him, the wind causing his ears and blood to pound. Reaching out, he tried to latch on to her falling body, but missed; the mistake was near-fatal. The Dark Lord looked on with disdain, holding out his hands; the shadows caused by the setting sun reached up and bound her body face down in midair; as Alex came out of the Flash Jump, he tried slicing at the shadows but didn't work. Angered, he re-summoned his bow and summoned arrows from the shadow; the Dark Lord's eyes widened as they flew at him. Throwing three volleys of stars in rapid succession, he rolled away just as the arrows struck ground. As the building collapsed, there was a final scream of, "You're getting it next time, bowman!" Panting, Alex grabbed on to Reika's unconscious body just as the shadow bindings dissipated; there was fresh blood flowing from her back...

Alex snapped out of his reverie. "So uh... you managed to outrun the Dark Lord over... a quarter of the island?" Shrugging, he sat down and Reika followed suit, staring out towards the center. Now that she looked around, the landscape was slightly familiar - Kerning City Middle Forest. It was one of the higher places on the west side of the island, and from here, when she looked west, the setting sun was beautiful. Below, the Victoria departed once again for Maple Island, sailing quickly in the blue sea. She fancied that there were sparkles in the water, but she couldn't be sure. Another question nagged in her mind. "Uh... Alex? How did you fire arrows if you didn't have a weapon?" Turning, he tickled her and sardonically commented, "Questions, questions." Rolling on the soft grass and laughing, she felt the pounding in her back and mind momentarily disappear, lost in the moment. Alex grinned and held out his left fist. There was a slight greenish tinge surrounding it, as if an aura was developing; from it, bow limbs started growing - the design was simple, almost as if someone took a Ryden and painted it green, except that the tinge was pulsing.

"This..." Reika stared.

"Astral Bow."
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Chapter 5c: Obsequies?

Ares pounded at the floor with his hammer; a bump appeared in the ground and headed towards the warriors. They leapt to avoid it, but it formed a solid wave behind them, thundering back; as the seismic wave knocked them down, Ares rushed forwards, his weapon transformed into a sword. How could they know my name? he thought, as he rolled aside to avoid yet another pathetic attempt at Brandish. All the warriors had by now lost their tops, leaving only their pants to protect them. However, they still had the raw power of Stance and Achilles, and the leader had used Berserker. Electric sparks flew around him and his sword, drastically increasing power and defense - Ares knew he wouldn't last long if reinforcements didn't arrive soon. He also knew that nobody was likely to come in time. Chancing a glance around, he took in the area's terrain. All around him was a flat plain, East Rocky Mountain far behind him - ahead, Ellinia's trees waved in a gentle breeze, oblivious to the titanic battle that has caused the ground before it to crack. He saw, without doubt, Grendel's magical barrier, barely showing up below the rising sun. Probably the last sunrise I see, he grunted mentally, Rushing right into the midst of the party; they were all rooted to their spots by the sudden action, which gave him his chance. Holding out the sword with both hands, he jumped slightly and spun his body. The sheer momentum the sword gave him sufficed to let him spin six or so rounds, and because the party was so tightly packed, they were knocked back by a few feet. Releasing an energy blast, Ares landed and looked around. The energy circle expanded, stopping against the barrier and dissipating. Ares panted in agony. He hadn't had such a big fight since the Horntail, and besides, these were the disciples that he'd given his best to, teaching them skills that they would have otherwise never learned.

He smiled ironically, noticing that there was no Knight or Paladin in their midst - only Heroes and Dark Knights. The party stood up, narrowing his eyes. There were multiple cuts on all their chests, but they were used to that already - after all, they had seen worse. Ares himself had injuries on his arms and legs, abrasions caused by spears slicing against them. At least there aren't any Paladins, else I'd have been pounded flat by now. Raising his weapon, he transformed it back to a mace and raised it. Glowing with the sheer amount of Holy power being put in, it finally realized its purpose - to protect its master the best it could. Gaining almost a mind of its own, it sent mana streams flowing down Ares' arms, healing them of all injuries. The party watched, mouths open, as he himself began to glow. As his eyes opened, they took tentative steps backwards - they were glowing white, piercing through their very souls. Even the Dark Knights flinched when the mace was raised; holding out their spear, they prepared for a gigantic fight.

---

The party leader groaned. This is becoming almost impossible... Even his Dragon powers couldn't possibly help much now, but he had to try. Holding his spear vertically, he allowed his mind to fade completely from the battlefield... into his inner self. The whole area was white and barren, spare for the gigantic dragon in front of him, wings tucked back. It was black and sleek, once one of the strongest in the famed Dragon Forest of Leafre. "I have come to request something from you," he said humbly, kneeling before the spirit. He felt his every thought being prodded and examined, squirming uncomfortably. After a long time, the creature roared, "What is it?" Flinching, he said, peaceably, "A little of your power." The dragon narrowed its eyes and he prayed. After all, he was banking on the fact that the dragon didn't have any morals and couldn't care less about human affairs. Another impossibly long stretch of time passed as it stared straight into his eyes. Trying hard not to blink, he felt his eyes turning dry. Just as he was about to blink, it said, "Very well." Raising its wings, it flapped them once or twice before releasing a pulse of air from its mouth, sending him flying...

That was a rough ride, he thought, looking at his spear. It was now glowing black in color, the exact opposite of his opponent's; the other members looked at him, eyes wide. Ares shook his head sadly. "You'll never understand what it truly means to be a Dragon Knight until you master it. Did you think that granting you power means it bows to you servilely? It's a dragon - respect goes mutually." There was a sudden explosion of light; in that fleeting moment, a shadow appeared a above him, hovering silently. Sleek, powerful, fast; the master of all dragons. "Dark-" He was cut off as Ares leapt for him, the sword slicing neatly in the air; although it didn't make contact, a wound still appeared, fresh blood dripping onto the ground, joining the crimson streams of the five warriors battling, although the only people who were fighting seriously were Ares and the party leader.
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Chapter 5d: Stalker

Claire whirled around to face her predator. It was a shadow, no doubt, but it had a presence of its own, as if somebody had infused life and a being into the shadow. She'd heard only of the Shadow Partner of the Hermits, and this seemed similar, though she was very sure it was supposed to be attached to their bodies. Ah whatever, let's find out what he's up to first... "What do you want?!" she shouted at the cliff face. As if by magic, a human shadow materialized, standing up; features began to appear - cold eyes that seemed to be shimmering, so she couldn't tell, clearly, what the color was. In fact, all the details were hazy, so she couldn't identify the owner. Smart, this person... The shadow surprised her by speaking, although the lips didn't move. "My name and purpose is immaterial." Claire tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "You're stalking me, and you're telling me your purpose-" The shadow cut her off. "You have no evidence I have been doing so. For all you know, I'm traveling to Sleepywood." Claire snorted. "And I'm sure your body can teleport to your sha-"

The shadow shimmered, and dissipated; a moment later, a Chief Bandit took his place. "You were saying?" Claire stared dumbly as he took a step forwards. Not shadow-like in the least bit... It was only when he was three feet away did she finally see the danger: he was holding both a dagger and a claw. Noting the fact that she had noticed, the Chief Bandit easily said, "Ambidexterity. All good thieves have it." Claire wanted to back off, but she knew that it would show as a sign of weakness. Not good... Holding out her katana, she concentrated totally on the Chief Bandit, whilst maintaining awareness of her surroundings in her subconscious - the mark of a true warrior was to be able to use the surroundings to his or her advantage.

"I'm Kon," the Chief Bandit said, as he leapt forward; he was gone without a single sign or flash. In moments, ten gashes had appeared on her armor, without the usual glinting of the dagger that signaled an attack - no matter how fast her reflexes were, she couldn't match up to the thief if he didn't give a single sign where he was going to attack next. Just as she completed that though, there was a slash to her waist, causing the skin to gash slightly; a ruby-colored drop of blood hit the parched ground. Kon stopped his siege and stood where he'd been before, looking at her nonchalantly - he wasn't out of breath in the slightest, and his hair was still untouched. Not sparing a chance, Claire leapt forwards; for a moment, her katana caught his dagger and his look faltered slightly, as if somewhere in the deep sea of it, a ripple had occurred. In a second, it was gone, replaced by something deeper than scorn. "Power Strike? You intend to defeat me using Power Strike?" Angered, Claire pushed harder; the ground trembled slightly. "Anger..." Kon continued, amused. "Did you know that different feelings give off different auras? Of course not, the Job masters would never teach you students that. The previous Dark Lord didn't teach us everything - anything we know, we learn ourselves. How would you like if I attacked you with your own weapon?" Before he finished the sentence, Claire winced from a burning feeling in her heart - undoubtedly the aura of anger that Kon was talking about, sharpened to a point. Her grip slackened slightly, and she fell back onto the ground, executing a perfect backwards roll to face Kon, now looking on in amusement. "What about I cut you some slack, and you unleash your best skills?" Claire fought to control her emotions and raised her sword again, this time assessing his movements. This time, there was a faint flicker as he moved, and a dagger flash to her left, barely within her peripheral vision. Just before it was going to make contact with her armor, she concentrated the mana surrounding her body onto that spot; however, Kon seemed to have noticed, because there was another flash, this time to the right. Again and again, the blocking game went on, and after a while, Kon stopped. "Good, looks like you've caught up to speed. Now let's see what attacks you've got." Claire nearly sneered, but caught herself; her sword leapt up in flames, blurring the blade. As she slashed it, it left a red trail, fading rapidly. "Flame Charge... next?" Jumping forwards, she slashed quickly, left and right; to her amazement, wristguards appeared on both hands, and Kon easily stopped the blades; the fire was deflected, hitting the ground with a sizzle. Immediately, flames vanished, replaced by a sheen that resembled the sky; the long katana crackled as it was slashed down; when it hit the metal wristguards, they gave out sparks, but Kon didn't seem in the least bit disturbed.

It was then that Claire finally noticed something she hadn't before, a very, very fatal mistake on her part:

There was poison on the dagger.