Atonement [Closed]

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571 - Ul'dah~

 

"Good morning Lieutenant, good to see you up and about." came the pleasant and sweet voice of his Captain, the voice she saved for friends. Erik smiled and replied, "Good morning Captain. And yes I am feeling better." Flame Captain Juliette Monroe, Sultansworn of Ul'dah and Captain of the Crimson Watch, she had been Erik's leader for the better part of eleven years, they were more then even that. After much prodding she had convinced him to follow her through the initiate process to be trained in her order. He insisted he only did it for her and to make himself a better soldier, he insisted he would not take the vows and would simply be, if anything, a Free Paladin. Juliette knew better, she had been his commander, his teacher, and his friend since he was a boy. She knew the man he was becoming, even if he did not see it. "I'm glad to hear it. Thought for sure we were going to lose you to that maniac girlfriend of your's, poor Cian was beside himself. I suppose the rumors of immortality have some merit." she laughed. Erik flushed, "She is not my girlfriend, we are... complicated is all. And I am in no way immortal, merely lucky." She laughed and seemed to wave away his words, "Yes, yes, the rumors must be about some other immortal Highlander then. That isn't why I called you here. I want to give you a special task." Erik looked interested, "What kind?"

 

Juliette stood and walked to a window, pointing out of it at an assembled group of seven, "We are having our mandate expanded. Her Grace and the Flames both agree that a war is coming, and that Thanalan must be ready. You are my best covert agent, you and Cian both, but he is not career, anyone who asks him will know he's not, but you are. I can tell. I need someone like you, who is long term, to train those seven... and to watch them. I'll admit there is something about them that is off.... but that is neither here nor there. Those seven were selected by Flame Command for having very unique skill sets, with potential similar to your own. But in all honesty... I don't know. That's why I want you to train them, so you can watch them." She smiled, walking to him, placing her hands on her hips, he liked how it made her look confident, "Beyond that its your first real command. Those seven and you will make up an elite sub-unit in the Crimson Watch. If they work out, at least you can go off half cocked with a team instead of by yourself, and I can stop going gray from it. What would you like to call your unit?" Erik thought for a moment, thinking back to the stories his mother would read him, "The Red Wings."

 

 

~Present Day - Goblet~

 

The morning was quiet outside of the Headquarters of the Red Wings. He did not know the tall highlander, or the hyur with white and black hair, they weren't on his list. "My my, Erik, this information is only a few days old, way to mix it up." There was a mix of humor and anger in the Garlean's voice. Lucus had been his lover for many years, and Erik knew that when he threw him to his men to be tortured to death. Man at the postbox, their "Shadow", the pearl overheard his hand in Lucus' death. Melkire was a bit high on the hit list, but that was not an issue if he killed him now. And a bonus to boot, Mikh'a Korofi, he's on the list too, something to shake the witch-sister. Marcella took aim at Osric, the clear morning was perfect..... he fired, miss. Damn reflexes, reload.... take aim.... fire.... hit, square to the heart. Marcella laughed as he picked up and moved to his next perch. Less then 15 seconds, not bad. He sets up.... 5 seconds.... Needs to get quicker on the set up.... Aim... fire.... damn jumpy miqo'tes. Take aim.... fire.... miss. "Gods Damnit." he hisses as his targets enter their building. The Goblet guards have finally woken up he thinks as their heavy boots clink toward him. He snorts as they round the tower toward him, "Idiots." as he speaks he lifts his gunblade and bag and summons the aether around him, cloaking him in invisibility. Most of these clueless guards, standing about him, searching for some sign of the gunman, had never even heard of Doma before. He smiled as he careful walked past them all.

[Melkire]

~1571 - Limsa Lominsa~

 

"Look 'ere, y'can't honestly expect me t'let Dirk Problemsolver onto m'crew, do you, Rings? The boys'll either have m'head or your corpse at the bottom of the sea! Mutiny, that's what ol' Jetsam is faced wit', if I'm t'hire you on." 

 

Osric groaned as he leaned against the dock's piling and knocked his head against the wooden post a few times.

 

"Just a few moons, Worthy, then y'can ditch me on this same gods-damned jetty we be standin' on. Swear on Lymlaen's teats I'll play nice. Y'know I'm good for it."

 

The Sea Wolf - why the hells does he have a Hellsguard name, anyroad? - frowned as he stood, arms crossed, at the very end of the gangplank, barring the young midlander's passage. "Thaliak's mast are y'wantin' work from me now, anyroa'? 'snot like there's more coin in piracy than in, well...."

 

"M'folks want me t'sod off for a while. M'last few hits weren't gutter, or even low. Bastards might start gunnin' for me now. Me mam's worryin' that some Storm blighter's goin' t'put a hole in me with one o' them fancy muskets or somethin'." He snorted. "As if I ain't done work for the storms 'n' jacks a time or two. Buggers, all o' them."

 

Worthy Jetsam sat on that for what felt like an eternity as he rubbed at his chin, fingers mussing with his goatee. Osric shifted just enough to turn a curious eye on the roegadyn, that and a lifted eyebrow that asked, hells are you thinkin', eh? The old Wolf wasn't looking, though, so he spoke up instead.

 

"A bronze for whatever's tangled up in your riggin'?"

 

"Supposin' I could bring y'on, for ol' times' sake... ye'd hafta lose the fancy skins, eh? Raptor gives it away. Same fer yer knives. Y'know anythin' 'bout handlin' an axe?"

 

"Er... no."

 

The Sea Wolf barked a laugh as he pivoted on one heel and made his way back up the brow. "Piss poor marauder ye'll be makin', then."

 

The eldest son of Melkire scoffed. "Long as I ain't bein' shot at."

 

 

 

~Present Day - The Goblet~

 

The handle shook a few times, then the door slammed open, the frame shaking in place as the wooden mass rebounded off the wall, as the man clad in darklight stumbled through the doorway into his office. His hold on the strap in his left hand loosened, and the darklight corselet with the gaping bullet hole in it fell to the floor, the dull thud of its weight on the rug below a mere nuisance of a distraction as Osric Melkire fell against the planters. He caught himself with his arms, but only just; a few moments of pained, labored breathing later, he was hauling himself back to his feet and pushing through to the back of his chambers.

 

Off came the bracers, the caligae; his bandana, he threw clear across the room onto the featherbed as he turned and fell ass-first against the edge of the oasis bathtub. He panted as he slipped his breeches off, then turned and fell into the water, scrambling to pull himself up onto the bench. He grimaced for a few moments more as he cupped his palms and poured water over his chest, but at last, after a few ablutions, he eased. He wasn't relaxed, calming down was far beyond him for now, but... the tension was fading.

 

You're a bloody fool if you're thinkin' ladlin' some water over it is goin' to help.

 

He glanced down at his chest, where an ugly bruise roughly the size of an Allagan silver weighed heavily between his pectorals. He stared, then turned and reached for the breeches, fumbled through its pockets long enough to come up with the coin in question. The piece had been rather heavily dented... and the bullet in question was still there, crushed up against the silver.

 

The darklight must've taken most of the impact. Gods know I couldn't breathe.

 

From the instant that second shot had rung out, Osric had known nothing but a red haze of agony. Black tendrils of mind-numbing relief had been creeping their way in from outside when the pressure on his chest finally disappeared. The strange highlander had ripped the sergeant's pierced breastplate off as the midlander laid prone on the operating table of the Red Wings' medical bay. With the corselet off him, the small tote bag that had hung by a string from his neck had tumbled free.

 

Plot devices. I owe m'ruddin' life to plot devices. Master Bellveil, I could kiss you right now. 

 

Their new chirurgeon, a Titor Jaraba, had offered further assistance with Osric's pain... but he couldn't be in that room right now. Couldn't stand to be. That'd been in the room where he'd seen Alexei's... that had been the very table where... and mere bells afterwards, he'd carved the "Garlean" spotter to shreds on Erik's orders, only to learn that....

 

The Vipers. He snarled as he chucked the silver into the corner and listened to it bounce between the tub and the wall before it slid to the floor.

 

The Vipers, he'd learned from reports and case files acquired mere suns after he'd been granted the clearance owed to his new position, were once what the Red Wings were now: Ul'dah's premier espionage unit. That Erik had sent him after that poor sod's neck for a cobra hood tattoo and sent Setras after the man's organs for a hidden linkpearl meant that the captain had more than a passing history with these gods-damned bastards.

 

I'd have been dead if it wasn't for that coin.

 

Lucky it was me.

 

Could've been another Alexei.

 

Could've been Askier. Or Kahn'a.

 

Or Kanaria.

 

The pulsing adrenaline that came with mounting rage surged through him again as it had not a bell prior; he bit down hard, teeth grinding against one another as he fought it down. He had demanded dossiers from the captain, demanded everything the Flames had on suspected Vipers lying low within the city limits. He was through with getting shot at, through with the Red Wings and their loved ones being targeted when rightfully no one outside the unit should've known they existed.

 

This is not going to happen again.

 

I am not letting them take my family away from me.

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571-Ul'dah~

 

The seven stood before Erik and the Captain. Both officers eyed them carefully as Julietta introduced them to the 2nd Lieutenant, "Attention. People, this is your new commander." The military is as much a machine of war as it is theater. That is what this was, theater. He marched in front of his new soldiers slowly, speaking clearly, "I am Flame Lieutenant Second Class Eirikir Mynhier, I will be your commanding officer in this Sub-Unit, the Blood Vipers." He paused, looking at Juliette, irritated that his name for the unit had been rejected. Returning his attention to the seven before him he continued.

 

He stopped in front of the first soldier, "Name soldier. Tell me why you are here." The young midlander maintained his attention, "Sir, Flame Private First Class, Lucus Marton." Erik looked him over, "Why are you here?" The boy smiled, "As a boy Sir, my father was an alchemist, one of his experiments went wrong Sir, aether crystal dust got in my eyes. Now.." he smiled a prideful wicked smile, "... I can see auras. No man can escape me, I can see them, behind any object, no one can escape my sight." Erik moved next to Juliette and whispered, "Is he serious? Is that even possible, to see the aether around us?" The Captain replied, "There are many things in this world that seem impossible. Each of these people have uncanny skills gained in one way or another. Not unlike their commanding officer, the Highlander with the speed, senses, and agility of an Elezen." Erik eyed Lucus, "Amazing, and how do you use this gift?" Lucus replied, "I am a sniper's spotter Sir."

 

 

~Present Day - The Hall of Flames~

 

Erik stood silent as the dead in the Flames' morgue. The draw sheet had been pulled from the man on the slab. His arms crossed as he looked over the man, he couldn't help but smile, "They worked you over did they not Lucus? I will need to get Osric some new knives for Starlight." He walked nearer the body, leaning into the corpse's face, "You lul. I should have plucked those neuken void-sent eyes from your hoer gegeven head. At least I had the satisfaction of beating the stront out of you before throwing you to my men." Erik stood, straightening his uniform, continuing to speak to the dead body, "Marcella will be next no doubt. I did not tell them about your hidden pearl just so he could hear. He should be along any time now. And then there will be five. Do you know why Lucus? Because they are better then you. You may have gotten Alexei, caught us off guard, but we know you are here now. The Red Wings are more then a match for your madness." He turned to the door as his pearl alerted him to his Immortal Flames Comm, "Be advised, shots fired, Goblet, Ward 6." Erik smiled, looking over his shoulder before leaving, "You will have no more of us, but do not worry friend, you will not be lonely. My men will be sure to send your lover to you, though it may be piece by piece."

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571-Ul'dah~

 

Having heard from each of the seven now, he turned to his Captain, unable to find words for what they had told him of themselves and their skills. Marcella De Bleu, master sniper, able to become invisible. Cronna Nirnna, a mage, wanted for experimenting with forbidden magics. Wildfire, a barehanded Roe fighter, his prosthetic left hand made of Cobolt. The stoic Arcanist, Michael Granton, able to us is book to draw aether from the minds of others, their stolen thoughts written on its pages. The half Seawolf, half Highlander ax wielder, Gloria Bloodrain, her strength enough to make a Primal shiver. And finally, the former conjurer, Fiona Lake, she had made it a point not to say anything about herself other then her name and fondness of beast.

 

They were a fearful lot, and he had to admit that their skills, focused and trained, would be and incredible force to recon with. He expressed that he was impressed, saluted and dismissed them to their quarters, "We will begin exercises in the morning. Get some rest and be ready I will put you all through the paces in the morning." He turned to Juliette to speak to her as the seven moved to leave, all but Marcella, "Excuse me Ma'am? But why are we being put under this man's command? We each have power, why should we follow him?" The Captain seemed to find humor in the question, replying she said, "Ask him I suppose." Erik smiled wide as the other six spread around to watch what was coming, each with a wicked smile. Marcella smiled the widest as he taunted his commander, "How about it Lieutenant? Why the fuck should I listen to anything that comes out of your mouth?" Erik turned and smiled his own wicked grin. He moved so quickly he seemed a blur as he reached Marcella, connecting his right fist with the man's jaw. Marcella hit the ground hard, holding his jaw, his smile was gone, replaced by rage in his proud eyes. He was up and heading toward Erik, a knife drawn from somewhere unseen. Erik tried not to laugh as he took the midlander by the wrist, flipping him like a rag doll. Marcella rolled from the throw and vanished. Erik looked over to Juliette, "Amazing, you were serious." She nodded with a smile, "I told you. Its not even your nameday. Don't forget he has a knife and you pissed him off." Erik laughed as he raised his hand, gripping something unseen. Marcella became visible again, dropping his knife as he tried to loosen Erik's grip from his throat. Erik looked at him now, lifting him off the ground, "You should obey my orders because I do not need to see you to hear you." He threw the enraged man to the feet of Lucus who knelt quickly, checking Marcella as he brushed the smaller man away. Erik walked away, "Dismissed."

 

 

~Present Day-The Hourglass~

 

Marcella sat on the bed, the small painting of himself and Lucus, tears dripping over it. He roared as he threw the painting across the room. He had taken his shots and missed. Even the fucking Shadow lived. He had his fun with the nudist warrior, but up close all he could do is vanish and reappear to taunt him, he was no match for Evans and he knew it. "I am sorry Lucus. I'm always to damn proud, and I fuck up." He stood and picked up the picture, setting it on the table, "I hate him so much. He knew who you were when he threw you to his wolves. I can't even kill the wolves." He took a deep breath, calming down as he sat back down, and became silent.

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571-Ul'dah~

 

Marcus laid quietly as the others slept. He played over his fight with the Lieutenant over and over again in his head, the bruises aching as he remembered being thrown around like nothing. He raged quietly at the thought of being bested by some highlander brute. In the next bunk Lucus whispered, "Marcel? Are you awake? Are you in pain?" Marcella turned to the voice of his friend, "I'm fine Lu. Just wondering about this afternoon... and how it will effect things." Lucus turned to his side, "It won't. We are here for the mission. As long as you don't let your pride get in the way we will be fine. Just give the Lieutenant a wide birth and it will be fine." Marcella ruffled, "But how did he beat me? I don't understand how he could grab me like he did. The strength I understand, but he said he heard me.... how?" Cronna now joined in, the little Lalafell emerging from under his pillow, "Will you two shut up, some of us are sleeping. Not that I'm not grateful for a night lacking the grunting that usually accompanies you two sleeping in the same room, but still I must sleep. Now be silent or I will age you both to old men."

 

As the Lala turned away the two men nearly laughed out loud, "He's right Marcel, just sleep." With that Lucus turned and closed his eyes.Marcella only laid quietly.

 

~Present Day-The Quicksand~

 

Marcella sat at a table, his food was getting cold as he stared at it. He looked around... a bomb maybe? No, that had been tried. He wanted to strike out so hard. He shook as the pearl in his ear crackled to life, the ringing the same as when Lucus would call. He listened, the colour draining from his face as the voice came over the channel, "That is good, it still works. It is gratifying to know you all remember my lessons. I would not be able to talk to you without this little backup pearl." Marcella's face contorted at the sound of the voice, "You son of a bitch....I'm going to put a slug in your cat-witch sister, your brat, in everything you love for what you did to Lucus." Erik laughed softly as he replied, a dark hint to his voice few ever got to hear, "All that talk, reminds me of the day we met. No Marcella, you will not put slugs into anything. My men are not targets, you will find them... my family... hard to kill. But that is no matter. I am tired of this shit with you and the others. I will find you, and cast you off of High Bridge. Then I will work my way to the others." Marcella shivered, steeling his voice, "Your men barely have the stomach for war, our type of war. What makes you think we can be so easily stopped by such soft people?" Erik replied, "Because they are better then you."

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571 - South Thanalan~

The following weeks were the some of the strangest and most enlightening of his life. Leading the seven Vipers in both training drills and missions had redefined the soldier's definition of the word impossible. Each one with their unique skills, they were a sight to behold. The time found them and their Lieutenant under fire, a band of bandits, mostly archers, seemed intent on ending them. From behind the large boulder they all hid behind, Erik called out, "Marcella, Lucus, head back a hundred fulms to get out of range, then get on that ledge and strafe them. Cronna, Michael, when they react and take cover from Marcella, unleash your magic to further their fear. Once shell shocked, Gloria, Wildfire, and I will rush their position. Fiona, support us as we do. You all know your jobs...... Advance!"

 

All that could be seen was Lucus as he ran south as he was ordered to, Marcella had vanished, making his way up to the ledge, his linkpearl hot and tuned to his eyes on the ground. Lucus stopped outside the range as ordered and his eyes shined deep purple as he saw the auras of his enemies, unobstructed by boulders, sand or distance, "Mar.... one hundred twenty fulms from your position, spread of thirty fulms from left to right... healers at tenth and second bell.... wind is set to seven knots, east sharp." Marcella was already on the ledge, his first two shots were true, both healers fell with holes to their heads. As planed the shock stilled the bandits for a moment, all the mages needed to unleash their aether on the remaining. The tables had turned as the men coward behind cover. One brave soul looked out only to see a Roe, Highlander, and a mix of the two, all baring down on them. Within a few moments of slaughter it was over. All but one lay dead. The last bandit found himself on his back, Erik's blade at his throat, "Do you yield?" The little man pleaded, "Yes.... yes... I yield..... please." Erik sheathed his sword and stood strait, "We will return with you to Ul'dah, the Magistrate will see to your fate. Since you surrendered it will be far better then your companions." The man scrambled to his knees, "Thank you..... you?" He looked in the direction of the seemingly uninterested Lalafell, "You.... I know you.... GODS! How are you here!?!" Erik watched, partly confused, partly concerned, "Cronna.... How does this man know you?" The Lala stopped staring blankly into the distance, looking equally uninterested at his commanding officer, "No Sir.... or maybe yes.... I know so many people." The bandit had fallen to the ground scooting back swiftly, like a man encountering a Primal at random, there was fear in him, "My brother... he was one your experiments... You.... you....." Cronna looked at the man now looked at the man with a slight interest, "Ah... I see. Well then...." He said as he stepped toward the terrified bandit, "By what creeps, what crawls, by what does not... Let all that grows, recede and rot." As the lala whispered his spell, the bandit screamed in pain as he began to rapidly age. Years in seconds, the fear filled man stared at Erik for help as he reached easily a hundred and thirty years old, dying as he aged. Cronna looked at Erik, little to any emotion on his face, "I am sorry Sir, but I do not know anyone that old." Erik stared in silence at the body, like staring into the seven hells.

 

 

~Present Day - Ul'dah~

He had said his goodbye, Cronna was no small threat. The yelling that morning could be heard by all outside the Hall of Flames. Erik had been called in to be given his orders. "This makes no sense Sir! Why in the Seven Hells would I send Askier off alone against Cronna? And not tell him what to expect.... Are you trying to kill my engineer?" Ryder sat at his desk, calm in the face of Erik's anger, "It isn't my orders Captain, they come from above. To be honest with you, your engineer has never been trusted by the Command, and his recent recklessness has not gone unnoticed." Erik fumed, "So send him to the slaughter? These orders even tell me not to tell him what he is up against. Cronna could raze an army if they did not know what they were fighting." Ryder raised his hand, "I know, that is why they want the Garlean to deal with him. They seem hopeful your Askier will manage to at least kill the little bastard." Erik stood and turned, "Marcella is still on the loose, as are the other three, four if you count Fiona. I need my men alive, I need them sharp. These idiots are stupid enough and prideful enough to face us one at a time, thank the gods for that. But they are not to be underestimated, even alone. I will not fulfill the wetdream of some asshole in Flame Command who wants Cronna and Askier to kill eachother. I will be seeing to Cronna myself Sir." Ryder stood.... "Erik... I have known you a long time. Hells, the things we know in this office would cause a riot in the streets with mobs looking to put you personally on the block. You are pushing your luck every time you run off like this. You may have everyone fooled.... trapped in mid teleport indeed. Even that sister of your's the one that raised you... even she doesn't understand fully. I am your friend Erik.... I really am, all rank aside, you are like a son to me." Erik stopped, "If that were, then why was I not told of Tietra? I had some records.... procured. The Flames knew she was alive." Ryder sat, his face fallen, "When you become a Sworn.... it is the job of this office to investigate every initiate. We discovered she was alive in Doma." Erik turned now, his face sharp, "That was nearly six years ago Sir." Ryder nodded, "Yes, but it was decided that if you knew it would interfere with your duty. And the last thing we needed in those days was the Sworn of the people to say fuck it and leave. The calamity was all to fresh, and besides... Juliette asked me not to tell you. And what do you mean procured?" Erik smiled, glad to have someone like her to get him what he needed, "I suppose secrets can be a good thing.... Sir, unless you want to call the guards and have me arrested.... something my Wings may not like, you will let me go and deal with this problem of my own making. Tell Flame Command that if they want to survive the storms approaching, they should plot against someone else. The Red Wings are busy making Ul'dah safe from the shadows. Tell them to go back to counting their money and leave us to our business.

 

 

~Later that day - South Thanalan~

Landing his airship miles out from the cabin mentioned in the reports, Erik unloaded Fury and readied for what was coming. The air was not cold, just cool, the ride would not be hard on the bird. He turned to the ship's wheel house, looking at his mammet through the window as he spoke over his pearl, "Return the ship to Forgotten Springs, and wait for my call Montblanc." He then turned to his Chocobo, mounted the creature, and rode north.

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571 - Ul'dah~

"It was the most twisted thing I have ever seen Captain. It was vial... unholy." Juliette held her hand up, "Calm yourself Lieutenant, I understand." Erik through up his hands, "I cannot work with this little creature. I know they all have their issues, but there is something just.... wrong about him."

 

 

~Present - South Thanalan~

The lone cabin seemed out of place in the ocean of sand as Erik rode to within three-hundred fulms of it, standing on a high dune above it. Smoke rose from the chimney, someone was home, he had to be swift with this. He thought for a moment then dismounted, "No sense in getting you killed boy.... Now do not look at me like that." he said as the bird argued. "I am not charging an army, just sneaking up on one Lalafell. Just wait here please."

 

Creeping down toward the house, Erik tried to make no sudden moves, approaching the windowless side. There had been no sound on the approach, but Erik knew he had been noticed, there was no way he could not have been. Looking around the corner, he suddenly heard a voice right next to him, "Hello Lieutenant... or is it Captain now? Why do you come to my home armed Sir?" Erik hated teleporters, they cheated as far as he was concerned. He drew his blade and readied to fight, standing in his Flame uniform. "Cronna, you will come with me." The Lalafell shook his head, "You know I will not. I have to much work still to do. I know you to be a wise man, were you to allow me to continue unblocked, I would make it worth your while." Erik growled at the bribe, "Your "work" is based on the people you experimented on. How many poor souls are in your home now? No I am afraid this stops." Cronna held his arms behind his back as he paced, "Should I be successful, I could send you anywhere in time. Surely there are things you would have changed."

[Erik Mynhier]

~1571 - The Flame Hall~

 

The briefing was to be a short one, an Imperial task force of a ten soldiers had been sighted crossing into Sultanate territory. The Watch was to dispatch the Viper unit to intercept and capture the Garleans before they can manage much trouble. Erik finished his report, "That is all, are there any questions?" The seven were silent, some shaking their heads. As they were dismissed to prepare for the mission, Cronno lingered, "A word Lieutenant." Erik held back his look of disgust, "Yes?" The Lala approached, his features emotionless, "I was wondering if you had yet come to terms over my actions? I did not seek to trouble you Sir, you know I was always fond of you." Erik nodded, "I have been aware, but that does not dismiss my objections to your power or its effects. Watching that man die was truly one of the cruelest things I had ever seen. I always wondered why you had been arrested, now that I understand, I find I wish you had remained in the dungeons."

 

 

~Present - South Thanalan~

 

The insult of the question was to much for the Highlander as he charged the Lalafell. The mage dodged easily, chanting to himself as he levitated into the air to avoid Erik's advance. As Erik ran under and past the mage, he wasted but a moment as he turned in a fluid motion and unleashed his shield, glowing with an aetheric aura. The heavy metal plate struck it's mark and returned to its master's hand. Falling to the ground, Cronna rolled to his feet, chanting louder as he reached out his hands in Erik's direction, "Time has come...crash down on the wicked! COMET!" As the miniature meteors flew from the Caster's hands, Erik blocked some, dodged others, but was in time struck. Falling to one knee, he quickly regained his strength as he took to his feet and was introducing his shield to the Lalafell's face. Stunned, Cronna rolled to his back to see Erik standing over him, his blade pointed at the mage's heart, fast approaching its destination. He raised his hands in defense as he called out the spell. Never had he cast a spell so swift, "Power of rot, obscuring truth, what once was old restore to youth! RETURN!"

 

There was a light, and for Erik, for a moment, the world around him vanished. He regained his senses and realized he laid face first in the sands. The house was ablaze, his memory was shaky, but he remembered the helpless mage, his blade connecting with his enemy's chest, "Did the aether take him bone and all?" he asked himself as he shook off the dizziness. He used his pearl to summon the unit from Forgotten Springs. The ruins of the house was soon set upon by Flames. Erik was checked by a medic, given an all clear and left the place to them. He gathered his bird, his mammet and ship and returned to the Wing's Hall. Having arrived he changed and exited the house, seeing both Doctor Eoghan and Kahn'a he spoke with them for a time, until the dizziness overcame him. On their advice he retired early to bed.

 

The next morning was hot, he awoke to the sun baring down on him. He was groggy, he stood and looked in shock at the signpost, he had awoken outside the Gates of Nald. A joke no doubt.....

 

To be continued....