Brothers for hire, loyal and true, swore upon the new world.

  "Be it coin, crystal, pleasure, pain, power, honor-- any and all. We shall not falter the bonds we've wove. We shall not depart for another's promise. We shall be there as we can, come one for all. Let those who tempt our vows, meet the end of our blades and... let whoever falters, die with love as our brother."

  An oath of souls; bound by an ancient artifact hidden in their service, recorded it's last light. A spark so bright, a torch would pale, and left to be split in four. The spark in their hearts.

  They fought, betrayed, and toiled through troubles. Won through the carnage of the years passing.

  When freedom was at hand. The trial was nearly done, their work, their life on Paladeia would soon return. Rest was on the horizon, the days when they could look back and laugh at mild jests. Pokes and prods that would fill a more mild journey.

  A new day was dawning, but their luck could not last forever... When the blood spill and deals broken came back with the fury of incinerating love. They could not last.

  Four brothers swore an oath to see the end of days, but only one saw the light of Paladia's sun. And so, the [Return of the Fore Bearers] began.

  Such bitter beginnings, and tears unrelenting came for the youngest. When the world devolved into chaos; as new and old legacies fought to their own ends, altering his course; dissuading the rivers of blood. Unsure of what to do, to go about tomorrow.

  It wasn't until he saw pair of brothers battling from afar. Strong for their age, yet in the face of veterans they fell. And for what? A ring with nothing but bread and mundane animal carcasses.

  So too did he hear the nearby village mourn. Praying for justice, sustenance, hope, miracles...

  But the gods were not what they thought. They weren't there at all. Only Eike, in the distant shade of a tree.

  There he stood, between two rivers, vowed upon the hopes of his brothers.

  A kingdom it would need to be. To protect the proof of their sacrifice, and honor the bonds yet be.

  So began another turn, when a new blade rose for war, carving a haven from a new river.

  By the ends of the century, a victory had made itself known, marked on the maps of the world. Small, yet his, for in his heart Eike Miken could never forget his brothers. In the beginnings of a new legacy, the City of Ostray was not alone.

  Cementing the name they would've all taken upon the New World. A burden he could not hope to last, but with this mark, this name, so will it, last in memory of his brothers. Beyond him. Beyond Ascension or Death. Forever more.

  And so, the Kingdom of Avis was made known.

  # # #

  Beaten by the days, the walls of a distant city never looked so inviting.

  Delphine dragged herself from the nonexistent road, slumping down on the last tree before the long stretch of grass. A trail overlapped her feet, coasting along the encircling edge of the forest. But beyond, her gaze lingered.

  The old paintings didn't do it justice. The faint smell of salt reached, the gulls going astray. A pearl of blue.

  The Sea shone bright.

  Between green and blue, she rested her head. Curiously taking in Ostray.

  The walls weren't so imposing as Berlemn. Almost shallow, perhaps but a few stories tall, failing to rise higher than the gentle slopes of the hill the city took to crowd upon.

  A prominent castle stood at the peak, imposing with sharp angles, it's main tower adorned with so much colored glass she could see the faint sparkle from here. Descending, fine houses-- the kinds of wealthy men and nobles flaunted, segmented by their own wall; leading to the rest of the populous.

  There were lesser abodes most hidden from her sight, but beyond the walls of Ostray, on what little flat land it held, dull buildings of wood and stone. A common sight, for the country side. But this? So close to the Gracion Forest?

  She frowned. The guards would well in doubt profess they had to maintain their post. Should a Beast tide come, or any for that matter. The peasants would be left with nothing, but being fodder.

  Her scowl deepened, but this-- she had to remind herself, was not her problem, let alone her land.

  She rose, cutting through the grass. Why waste time? The peasants certainly gave her an eye full, her hair was a mess... and her attire... The muck made her armor look spoiled. But there was no word with their wide breath, her path only passed by two men of a lower Realm.

  A glance was all that came, giving each other some respected space. Coming in line to the gate of the city. Sure enough, those of mana had their own.

  "State your business," the Ascendant guard spoke. His hand tightly gripped a halberd, reaching out with the other as Delphine handed her League Plate.

  Nearly a waste of an [Inventory] slot-- not even a member, but an affiliate.

  Denying any involvement of the Dawspire's was a favorite pastime. She couldn't well sign with the local branch, and the dues... if her trove wasn't set to be light already.

  She wasn't a fool to waste resources.

  The guard handed it back, "The Dungeons of Ostray are booked heavily for the month, if your stay is planned shorter I suggest a carriage ride to Beir or Shalkeun for their own listings."

  Delphine nodded, "Rest is my only concern."

  The guard huffed, "I can imagine."

  She leered, but did not bother the slight tug on the man's lips.

  Beyond a brief walk, the scene turn from the familiar to unknown.

  Clothes; gone were the vest and frilled wears, the men took to wearing overcoats and fine shirts. Dresses long and often seamless were cast aside, so too did the woman prefer a slight hitch in the rump, and a more pluming color.

  They walked along similar stone roads, but marked with lanterns of a single crystal in sheltered glass, standing tall within their metal casings. At the corner of each main street a large clock supported the lantern light.

  She took the time, then the sun. It was truly near noon... but how could a city afford such dedicated clocksmiths. The gears and work required were annoying to make, even if one was an Ascendant, the value of their time would surely be wasted. Yet, here they were, open for all.

  Maybe there was some benefit she wasn't aware of? The possibilities were barely a thought, until a teetered reached an ear. Her head whipped. A woman walked arm-in-arm with her man, casting a quick glance at her before she broke away; the man's back shielded her sight.

  If they mock together, they shall fear together.

  She leered, her teeth grit with the force. Expelling a course of mana over the couple, they shivered, paused-- rushing off, their legs stiff.

  Good riddance.

  "Look I told you there was a witch." The voice made a vein tick, finding a trio of children came by, the middle one had a great smile on his face.

  Why were all these brats so brazen?!

  The small child was amazed, before their older chaperon's eyes widen and quickly dragged them them into the crowd. Leaving the fire to puff in shame.

  She felt her hair, knowing the toll. Not her best day. But a Witch?!

  Delphine felt her hair, she knew the days had taken their toll. But a Witch?! Would this day finish like this? Not if her soul could help it.

  It only took an hour to find an inn-- thank the gods.

  One marked with cross swords above it's doors; an Ascendant inn.

  A bell rung as she opened the door. A plump woman, an Ascendant herself, if barely above a peasant, greeted at the open count. Her eyes lingered, making little effort to hid her strained smile.

  "Welcome to Gracel's Inn Ascendant, we have private rooms. And complementary baths," her eyes didn't betray the lingering moments on her hair and armor. "If you want we can upgrade your stay to--"

  Delphine's hands tapped the counter, "How much for a week?"

  The woman blinked. "In gold or--"

  "Greys," she groaned. Really why would a Ascendant not pay in Greys.

  The woman sneered, just a tad, "A Grey would get you a week with one complementary meal a day, if you want--"

  A Grey hit the counter. The woman showed no emotion, but grabbed a key from the assortment hanging behind her. "If you would follow me please."

  Delphine cared not to notice any change. Entranced by the faint thoughts of a warm bed.

  The hostess lead her to a quaint private room, leaving just as quickly. Light came in through the curtained window. Showing a modest abode. The side door opened to an bathroom; a toilet was tucked in the corner, leaving the space for a spigot, bucket, and tub with an assort drain.

  Delphine frowned.

  Not the most glamorous display, but it'll do. She turned on the water. Ohhh...

  It was warm, a pleasant temperature considering the single handle.

  She let the tub fill. Throwing off her armor and undergarments, dipping a toe till her she found the water reach her neck.

  Her head touched the back board. A faded smile release the untold tension. Letting her mind adrift.

  The night of battle, and the small betrayal came on it's own. What could she have done more? Better, even? Again the memories played-- a flash of green light brought another end.

  Just how was he able to do that? She thought.

  Again-- over and over, she recalled, till the water turned dull, and what energy she had to give turned to weariness.

  Nothing. She could do nothing, because it was her best.

  Without help she couldn't be more than her Realm, and even then, talents found ways to cross the threshold. Rare it might be, minor realms if she was honest, but would it still be as she rose? Those high above were said to be prodigies in their own right.

  Was that what she witnessed? The minimum needed to reach her dream?

  She curdled her knees to her chest, the heavy breath didn't help. What would? She felt ashamed for thinking she was better, an equal she was not.

  The same realm they might be? Her memory was a bit hazy to gage. But it was close enough, and yet, the aura trailed her mind. She couldn't help but sink further... No power. No direction. No guidance on where to go.

  If this didn't work out? Her mana shuddered-- she couldn't bear to know.

  # # #

  A day in bed; the mid-day passing, long into the night. When she came to, the sun was rising on a new day.

  Her head felt heavy, tired almost. The glance at her armor splayed on a nearby desk, her coat hung by the chair, made her want to turn over the pillow. Cleaning was a dread. She was almost inclined to let the day be, but, she needed to gain some ground.

  Information, context if she could get it, was the key.

  With a half-heart she laced her fleeced shirt, conforming long dark pants; flexible in the hips, giving her ample room to run.

  It was almost common, save for the sword at her side. She couldn't bear to part some protection, with her trove tuck on the other hip, she hoped to not have it unsheathed.

  There was no mirror, but made due with the water's reflection to straighten her hair. Not as fine, or curly as she liked, but better than a bird's nest.

  A meal would come by mid-morning, till then she could manage.

  Leaving the inn, and walking to the undertones of the waking city. Reminded of Marick's remarks.

  There was no such thing as paradise with a city. There would always be syndicates, and the wider dealers... If one knew where to look.

  "Follow the broken," he said. If that living rag was anymore vague, she might've smacked all the dirt out of him.

  So she turned away from the castle, and traveled the signs of ruined stone.

  With each turn found the life of the city drain. As worn houses came into sight. Cracked walls, and missing roof tiles. The poor coming out to the new day, admits their cloaks.

  When the sun was high and the streets were crippled, she found her start.

  Near the opposite end of the city, branching off from the nearby port. The most sullied part of the city. The paths was quiet, save for the distant ringings of bells and the shouts of sailors. The silence only became more incessant the deeper she went.

  Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword.

  A squeal reached her ears. She jumped, whipping her head down the alley. Her heart picked up a pace-- she hesitated.

  But it was far too late to worry now, wasn't it?

  Time was pressing no matter what.

  Cautiously, she following the sounds of fear. Words too muffled with coughs and sudden fits made nonsense. Until see peered over the last corner, seeing a boy being thrown into a wall.

  "Stop it!" The boy shrieked, undignified, slumping on the wall. His clothes torn and dishevel. Revealing the absence of muscle and sunken skin. A kick to his shin made him cry in pain. He fell over.

  Delphine watched, the beating paused as the girl; perhaps only a few years older overlooked the boy, catching her breath. Her clothes were much the same color, but with fewer tears and patched works. Her face less sunken, but still concave.

  "Give me my share!" The girl roared, kicking again. The boy scrunched up, continuing to cry.

  Are they-- no, it's none of my business. She thought. It wasn't. Her heart shook, mana lurching.

  This wasn't her home; her land. They weren't Ascendants; weak peasants she didn't know. She had to, must stay out of it. They had their own world, and she had hers.

  Delphine stepped around the corner, her mana flared; filling the small alley.

  The children jumped. Staring as she came closer.

  The boy wide eyed, rushed to her, a limp leg slowing him down. "Please. Help!" Snot and tear were running down his face.

  She leered. Was the boy trying to use her as a shield. She did not like that. Not an ounce.

  She drew her blade, "Stop." The boy reeled back. Shocked. "I am not your salvation. Whatever you're business is with that girl is your own."

  The boy shook, his hope crumbling by the seconds. His head swiveling back and forth between her, and the peasant girl.

  "I am in need of a guide to the underbelly of this city," Delphine looked to the two. "I don't care who, only that you'll be rewarded if so."

  "How much?" The girl was gleaming, a sense of relief over her shoulders.

  "A Grey." She replied. Both their mouths' dropped.

  "I can! I can!" The boy shouted, a burning desire in his voice. A look of hunger in his eyes.

  "Don't listen to the liar-- he steals, and cuts everyone he promises!" The girl shouted, coming behind the boy. He jumped, his eyes distant.

  "Then are you able to guide me? No tricks, or you might just find yourself in a worse position than he was." She spoke, trying to quell the strain in her heart.

  "I can take you there," The peasant girl trembled, but her words remain clear.

  Good. She sheathed her sword. "Then lead the way."

  "Wait! Wait-- I can do it, I know the way!" The boy continued to plead dropping to his knees, "Please. I'm hungry..."

  The girl only scowled, "Who isn't?"

  She turned with a huff, as Delphine followed she heard a shallow cry from the boy. No longer facing the onslaught of violence, yet he wound up into a ball. Covering a raspy wail, and plea she never wished to hear.

  "Mommy... mommy... When will you come back..."

  Her mana spasmed, but she gritted her teeth and looked forward. There were more pressing matters.

  # # #

  It was shorter than she expected.

  Appearing at a decrepit bar; warped wood cracked, leaking warm light. It's patrons were boisterous, she heard them well out here, drunk already. Perhaps they never left?

  "This is the place?" Unsure. Because why would the entrance be in such a congested location. It had to have been discovered if the little peasant knew about it. Or, at least monitored.

  Her mana riled underneath the skin.

  The girl nodded, but the shifty look in her eyes didn't inspire confidence. "Yes, I can asu-- asure you Ascendant, this is the place." Not trying to hide eyes; shifting around, "Can I have the money now?"

  Her head whipped, glaring at girl. "You will be the guide until the end."

  The girl shuddered, but moved forward all the same. Holding open the door to a crowded room filled with smoke and low light. The chatter quieted, but didn't dissuade her path to the barkeep.

  She stopped. Rising the hairs on her neck.

  There's power here. Lingering. Stronger... But she couldn't make out, how much. She swallowed a breath.

  They came up to an empty rail. An older man polishing a glass. His wrinkles and scars told of battle, his eyes were far, farther than any she had seen before. Catching his attention, long enough to gage her stature.

  "What can I do you for ladies," he smiled. Almost bright, save for a missing tooth.

  Delphine leaned in. "I am here for information."

  The man's raised a brow, looking to her guide; try as she might to not fidget. He leered at Delphine in turn, "Can't say I seen you here before miss?"

  She frowned-- right, credibility. "I've only arrived a day ago, and I'm looking to move on as soon as possible."

  "Oh, First visit?" A smirk came to him. She nodded. "Well how you loving the city so far. Pretty grand? Igh?"

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "It... certainly has been," she replied. Holding a grimace.

  The man let out a satirical huff, "Well. We'll see more in the coming years, if things should lean to the good side."

  What did that mean? But the man carried a gleam that could rival Marick's irksome answer. Clearly nothing good, if a word at all.

  "Now," he addressed the girl. "Young lady you best be off, this ain't no place for someone your age."

  The girl had a look of panic. Her eyes darting between them. Delphine just rolled her eyes. Reaching into her hidden trove, taking a Grey. Making sure it was hidden within her palm, confirming only by the briefest slit in her knuckles. Taking the girl's hand, and forcing her clasp the crystal like so.

  "Go," she commanded.

  The girl didn't lose a moment, running out of there with the widest smile her lips could bear.

  "Generous." The man commented, lapsing a brief thought before he motioned to another door on the far end of the bar. "This way, if you would."

  She followed, feeling eyes upon her. Her grip tightened on her sword, for what choice did she have?

  The door closed without a hand, igniting the crystal lanterns along the descending walls of the stair case. What came was a hall, a hall divided to seven passages. Bare of any illumination.

  Just how could these tunnels be left undisturbed?

  "If you would," The man motioned. "You might feel a prickling sensation-- it's normal." He went to the second to last passage.

  She felt something touch her skin stepping under the arch. The sensation of thick water, scored with a thousand needles scrapping along fine lines.

  "Gods damn," She grit. This was too much, but the man seemed to only look back and chuckle.

  "Welcome, by the Soleinius Scavengers." He spoke as they arrived at a bare room with five doors. "The farthest on the right will be your entrance, continue in a straight line and do not deviate. Or you will become lost, till the dawn of tomorrow."

  "Wait," The man looking over his shoulder. "That's it? There must be something else?"

  The man gained a faint smile, "Ah, to be young." He gazed to nothing, beyond the moment, a rueful sigh escaped his lips. Shaking his head he went. "See for yourself..."

  His voice trailed off. Leaving nothing behind.

  This, was unsettling. The man. The room. Even the air felt off to her pressing her forward. Urging her, taking the door knob-- she hesitated, expelling a breath-- before breaching the world of mist and light.

  She looked around, then over her shoulder, but the door was gone. Only the old peasant's advice remained.

  The minutes dragged on, perhaps half an hour pass, maybe more? She couldn't tell beyond constant looming mist. Blocking all sight, and rebounding any attempt at mana sense.

  A wariness in her heart called thought of the endless day of an unknown march. Part of her knew saw a trap, the other didn't want to question it. A fragment of her mind waged battle at each step, the rest kept control. Trying her best-- it could all be for nothing, or worse...

  Her heart winced.

  Delphine continued to walk. The answers would come soon enough, as slowly the white faded.

  Dark stone contrasted the encircling mist, leaving the window of iron bars more notable. A slit from a small extension of the wall aligned with the stool placed before it, but behind it all, in the shadow of the bars sat a figure decked in deep greens. Enchantments making the cloth shimmer in the dark. Yet no migraine came. She sat down without contest.

  "What do you seek?" The cowled man asked.

  "I am seeking passage to Halo," Delphine replied.

  There was a pause. She could practically feel an intense stare through the dark shroud. "We cannot comply with such a request."

  She scowled. "Why not?"

  "Five Greys."

  She choked. "That's nearly a week's worth of delving."

  "For weaker Ascendants, sure." Causing her snarl. "But such is information, and power-- so know where you stand." His tone turned gruff, and even without mana pressuring her being. A warning.

  "Then, what can you do?"

  There was silence, the man thinking things over. A wave of his sleeve brought out a stack of papers, coded in an unreadable script.

  "We can provide you with an temporary identity and passage to the South Rim; a trade station by the sea for the city."

  "But it won't allow passage directly?"

  "Correct, the marker will only get you close. But it won't provide a Visitation Pass."

  "Do you have one."

  The man snickered, and for what Delphine thought was certainly a taunt. She could feels his eyes boring to hers, "You can't afford our price."

  A vein ticked her suppressed snarl, "How much?"

  "Let me put it to you this way-- this all, what we are offering. It'll cost a Rose and forty-seven Greys."

  Delphine reeled; her head whipping back, eyes wide. Profound curses at the tip of her tongue.

  The man leaned in, almost in waiting. But against all odds, she held the slurry that would surely come. The man's shoulders slumped, as she, for whatever reason, imagined a great pout from the lack of rise from her.

  "How soon can this be done?" She huffed, releasing some strain.

  "We would need two days to finalize the deal, along with forge of your Marker." The man replied, sifting through the papers.

  "Can it not be sooner?" She asked, her eyes at the cusp of leering.

  There was a pause to the man. He hummed. The seconds seemed to drag, letting Delphine's thoughts catch her anxiety.

  "As much as this would please the tiny sacks we hold-- we are not above harboring bad faith, but it also must be reciprocated." His shelve motioned to her side hidden from view, but pointed as they come. "A rose in good faith wood suffice."

  Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't shown anyone her trove-- how could they know? When such Crystal shed no mana... It was utterly mundane, unless broken, or worn away; by a greater impact than she could must, and greater alchemy than she had the privy to know such existence.

  It was impossible.

  "No--" She ground out.

  "No?" The cowl trembled in offense.

  "Not with out proof!" Her mouth faster than her mind or gut.

  "This is not the time woman." The cowl bellowed. "A Rose or nothing."

  She squeezed out a breath, "No."

  "Then our business is done, leave." The cowl commanded. But she did not, leering. "Leave, this is your final warning."

  "I will not--"

  "Break." The cowl cut through it all, the very mist lashed out. Linking her arms, throwing her to kiss the floor. Stretching limbs as a wide star. Her muscles strained. Her wrists and ankles seared with pain. Her mana wrangled in a cage.

  It was over. Her heart screamed-- it won't end like this! She pushed, her nose bled. A vein popped on her forehead. She gave everything!

  "Silence--" The mist halted with command of a new voice.

  She fell to the ground, coughing. Tasting iron. A pressure loomed over, forcing her from rising. Towing over her, greater than her. A shiver trailed her spin. Of the hopeless encounter, this being was beyond her.

  Her mana sense retreated. Waiting for judgment; the failure she was.

  As time waned, as her heart beat a fury-- the pressure lessened. But she dared not stand.

  "Get up," the shrouded voice commanded. Grim, almost growling. She didn't question a word. Gripping the chair, slogging just to take a seat. Her eyes didn't move from the floor. "You are excused from your outburst, but do not test our patience. Because it will never happen again."

  Cold sweat beat down her brow, nodding almost absently.

  "However, we understand when passions run high. When information is personal, or sensitive in nature," his tone a lighter note. A wooden token was thrown in her lap, carved with the face of a vulture. "Tomorrow late-morning, arrive the way you came. Bring our token and your coin in full. Do you understand?"

  The nods came short and rapid.

  "Good." The voice broke and the mist shot out taking her whole.

  She yelped, feeling herself flying through the air. Terrified of what's next.

  Until the sun broke through, the sight of stone came with wide eyes.

  Then the stone, she couldn't stop. Her shoulder meeting the ground as she tumbled like a bug. Groaning. She look around to the unfamiliar alley way. Catching the sight of faded buildings, and the distant tree tops, peaking over the collection of roofs.

  She paused, staring at the token in her hand. The vulture even more dark in the light. Quickly throwing it in her [Inventory], hope and pain rested with the simple peace of wood.

  It almost weighed too much.

  When her legs finally gained strength, she found herself coming to the main street. Wiping the clot blood from her nose. She looked up, finding the walls curved the wrong way. Outward bound, protected by the poorly aged town that nestled between the grass and ancient stone. Stuck outside the walls like a common drunk thrown on his ass.

  They could have at least thrown her on the right side.

  She looked to the sky, looking on the journey; besides the days that were met with empty trails. What power did she have? To see the end of this Quest? She hesitated--

  Grumble-- her stomach brought a flush.

  Maybe it would be better to find a meal first? Before the thoughts came about.

  # # #

  The thoughts weighed her head, tempered by the steam waifing from the bowl and the warm thick broth on her lips.

  Mixing unknown spices with a deep stew of red meat, and the fluffy paring of sweet, fresh baked bread, helping to relieve some of the burden. She savored the subtle moments of quelled turmoil. Alone, adrift in the corner of the inn's dinner. Glancing at the other patrons as they ate.

  The hostess, returned with another plate for another Ascendant; the same that guided to her room. Her eyes occasionally glancing Delphine's way, thinking she was sly, running off to the back room before their eyes met.

  The slight made her tumble, the memory of pressure bore most of the cause.

  Looking down-- she still felt it's grip on her mana. She shivered.

  It was unease, absence, fear, shame, guilt, and a hoard of others muddled by the few in a chaotic cesspool.

  After all the running, the trouble. The fight of countless weeks; day by day. Fighting off the Beast, it almost came to an end. Because she couldn't play it off. Twist her words like a noble should... though she wasn't much of it anymore.

  Just a girl with lofty aspiration. Unable to see the sight of them.

  She emptied her bowl, passing by the hostess.

  "Thanks," she whispered.

  The hostess whipped her head, the soft latch on the door closed. As Delphine resigned to the lingering streets, the sun on the hour before dusk.

  Time seemed to slow. Walking down the street sprinkled with people on their merry ways, the scores of bikes peddling increased. As was the incessant ringing from small bells the children rang, having the pedestrians give way, and let the children's dull shouting play.

  Yet she paid no mind. Scouring her walk, she paused at sights she didn't stop for before.

  The nearest, the most crowded it would seem were the temples honoring the Gods beyond this World. The promise of Immortality, Worship, and Authority resonated with their existence.

  Six churches, an a temple surrounded the plaza. Though Delphine's eyes drifted to the pantheon of three; keeping their distance from the rest.

  It was much the same back in Berlemn. The cathedral of Balg, no matter how warm, and radiation in the night, stood to the side of the temple of Lenius. Forever and always.

  Annoying. She hated those classes. More so when she was exiled from the family; when she saw how the light was indiscriminate. Yet here, far away from her birth, the believers were much the same. Flocking to their image and not what they were.

  Lenius; The Chancellor of Light, order, duty, and honor against the darkness that crept in the corner of the hearts of Man. Their doctrine promised parturition of such virtues, and to enlighten the world without the need falsehoods. Guards, Nobles, Wandering Priest of Light, and... mercantile families, created the center of this congregation. Bringing many eyes, though on special occasions their masses were separated, a line would often from those who could donate more.

  Not openly. Never spoken. But as she took the years from afar, the line of fine clothes and common sheets became much more distinct.

  Adjacent, pyres of fire rose from giant goblets of gold. Fire, more yellow than red, reaching the tops of the wide doors it guarded. The walls less anointed with color, but with carvings, of fire, depicting embers carried off into the wind.

  Balg; The Silver Fire, sought protection. It was not a duty, but a way of life, ingrain in the souls of those who believed in the doctrine of devotion. Peasants mostly filled it's halls, their hopes the center of attention and calling.

  Though any mark of a mace was absent on their walls. Reserved for only the Cathedral in Berlemn.

  The last, was almost small, quaint, it gave nothing, showed nothing. But a statue of a spear, it's tip carved more of a captured flame than a prong. It stood in the center of the door, guarded by a man in metal; decking in golden armor. Inspecting all who came within the path, if they were anything less than a Priest or Ascendant, none may enter their halls.

  Piphilius; the Searing Spear, Champion of Dancing Flame, the mark of Courage and Journeymen of Soul Fire. To cull the darkness wherever it may be. To never waiver in it's shadow, but to pronounce the spirit of the soul, and settle what the world's affairs of suffering.

  So be Pantheon of the Sun.

  Delphine stood to the side, continuing to watch the people come and go. Absent of the morning prayers. Guilt crept in her heart, dancing with the pyres; the little embers flaking off only twisted her gut.

  She hadn't prayed, for weeks she had let go, it was just something her father proclaimed. Just another thing of him to throw away... yet, the sinking feeling, the building regret--

  Why... Why... Nothing good came out of it, she reassured herself. It would change nothing, but the guilt would not be driven.

  Her gaze adrift, from silver to gold. The guard standing upright; never wavering, never moving. The people wander within care, giving breath, children waving against their mother's wishes, and the few that would wander in.

  Her heart beat an unpleasant pace. Focusing within the gold, the metal, the helm. Without extending herself, without mana, her senses peered. There she felt something. A near light--

  A spark flared.

  She yelped. Her head reeling back as the people around gave her a crazed look.

  Mana pumped through her body without command. She needed to get away. Now. Her instincts screamed.

  She hurried through the edges of the crowd, mindful to not draw attention. Drawing away from inkling with her heart. Drifting until the feelings began to become distant.

  The taste of salt was upon her lips when her heart stopped pumping.

  She blinked, the sea was now before her. Dusk was upon her, the crashing waves; toned with oranges and pinks, was but a step away. Along the edge of the stone port, her senses dangled.

  Delphine slumped on her legs, her body shook from unknown strain. A pattern that was becoming worrying. Looking within she thought her mana pool would have been effected, yet there was nothing of the sort. Her mana quivered, yet remained untouched.

  She looked around. A bench was nearby; bare and worn. It stood on the other end of the walk, staring out to the sea. She trudged, slumping, groaning with the wood. Taking breath with the currents crashing against the port.

  What... just happened. She did not know. Time was a blur, the hours more so; the more she thought, the more the memory became distant until it was out of her reached.

  She frowned, until the shouts of men trailed on the ports.

  Sailors moved from their the decks to the mast; loading up their cargo for the travels by the wayward horizon. Half-tuned, half-muffled. Nonsense mostly, but it was there, mundane. Almost calming way of life. Absent of that blinding light.

  She watched, letting time run it's course.

  Her only hope was that, maybe, there would be no more trouble--

  A tremor played beneath her feet, reaching out to the sea. Her senses tumbled, body trembled. The earth-quaked, as she held on to the bench, bracing for worse--

  Then, it vanished.

  Men yelled till their voices broke, her focus whipped. Finding the heavy wake of the sea looming-- the men braced. Their ships rocked, and creaked. Some slammed into docks, others had crates fall and splinter decks. Merchandise ruined. The captains cursed as one.

  Water spilled over the edge. Delphine shot her legs up and rose on the bench. Watching as the entire street flooded with an ankle's worth of water the entire way.

  An echo trailed within the land, wailing. Before it too disappeared.

  What in the hells was that?!

  Delphine stood, to better focus on her surrounds.

  "Damn Quake!" A woman cursed by, running through the water. Pulling a man in similar wears of sailors. Their insignias of a four pointed crown denoted a mercantile group. "Did we not have one pass last month?!"

  "We did..." The man accompanying her spoke wearily. "The Lanbore Academics said there weren't any left this year..."

  "Some professors," the woman gritted her teeth. "They're wrong every other year--" She pulled faster. "I swear, if my ship has so much as a bucket of water seeping..."

  The peasant's voices departed with the cries of her man-servant.

  It was tens of minutes before the water receded. The day still had a bare sight of light, but for her, it was done-- she was done.

  Rest would be a miracle. Questions she didn't dare to delve, would knock-- answers that might be, would not come cheap. Because she knew, be it her trove or power, her heart wained, and she was not ready.

  # # #

  By some miracle, her eyes closed. The night but a blink, awaking to the cusp of dawn, and unnerving silence.

  She strapped her armor absently, packing what remained. Her bag slugged over her shoulder. Making way for the counter.

  The hostess awaited, reading some book. Her eyes glanced up by the slide of Delphine's room key, giving an incredulous look. But there was no word, the silent latch marking the end of them.

  She went on, the streets were quiet.

  The main roads had few people, and of those present, most were Ascendants. They glanced wearily at one another, but made a brisk pace walking past, and Delphine was no exception.

  Arriving at the pub fast than she thought-- she paused, her stride become heavy-- a shadow of intent lingered by the entrance. Catching her, seeing her. It pressed. Realized her fears, giving them life. Sweat trailed own her back. She wondered if she could take another step, to push forward, make it out alive.

  The Intent seemed to understand, amused.

  Her plight was amusing?! The pressure huffed, before receding to a knowing eye. Lingered a will, any could sense.

  A warning.

  She shuddered. Yesterday she would have hesitated to return. Today? Admits what was beyond; hope, her fears protested, but were drowned by the creaking door.

  She paused.

  Gone were the light hearts and faces of men; the few patrons present did not have such an open mind. Their forms were cloaked; under some kind of illusion, blurring their faces. Gestures were made, and what Delphine could only assumed was in the throws of a heated debate, but no sound came with them. Not from any of them.

  The bar stood silent, engrossed in things she did not know.

  "Back so soon?" The bar keep intoned, though strained, catching her attention from across the way. "What can I do you for?"

  "I..." see peered around the room, but relented. "Am here to finalize an agreement."

  A nod and motion with a mild action. Following down the stairs, down the hall, and barrier, they arrived in the room of seven doors. But before the man could leave, she turned to him.

  "Is there something I should be weary of?" She asked.

  The barkeep gave inquisitive look. His eyes flashed a hollow glare, chipping a smile. It was unnerving the change of how cold they've got.

  "I would recommend not to delve into rumors so much miss. Nothing good can come of false bravado and endless promises." His steps turned to leave, "You'd best leave as quick as you can. Do not be so tempted by curiosity, or it could cut your life short."

  His formed disappeared into the darkness, but his voice echoed in her mind. Heavy.

  She looked to the door, and wrestled her feelings for another time. Another breath, and she was in the world of mist once more.

  It would be a long straight, it was expected. What wasn't were the few minutes that passed and the fading light gave way to a familiar sight. Iron bards, and a cowled speaker presented themselves.

  Shocked, she nearly tripped. If not seat, she would have fell. Her rear landed heavy on the cushion.

  "Payment and Token," the voice said. So Delphine provided; passing along the crystals and Vulture sign. Gaining a bundle of wrappings; folded in thick paper and tied with course rope. "Within is everything you will need to prove your false identity-- but the choice is yours on when to leave, today at noon or in four days time."

  She cradled the wrappings.

  "Is there a difference?" She questioned.

  The cowl shook their head. "The Iron Ships will be arriving to repackage supplies for the southern rim. They take on passengers, and will depart within the hour. The Metal Men are fast, and strict, and will not wait a second more, if you fail to meet either times of passage that is not our concern. Your payment will not be return, and another transaction will have to be made."

  Delphine nodded. "Then, this is all?"

  "Unless you have another request?" The cowl said, strangely concerned.

  But Delphine only shook her head, "No... No."

  "Then our business is done--" with a wave of their sleeve the mists lashed out and took her much the same. Her heart yelped, but stooled her hands. The mist depositing her in an unfamiliar street, leaving her standing at least. But her eyes caught the curve of the wall, and knew, she was on the inside side. No annoying guards to waste her time.

  There was little time to play coy, she had everything she needed. With the streets much the same. She would rather stake these moments waiting, than risk seeing though the warnings she had been given.

  That old man, I wonder though... She thought, making her way towards the dockyard.

  # # #

  The sun was high, seated on a bench. Taking in the blue waves. Ships lined the port, hoisting and unloading their cargo.

  As the sun sets and rise, sailors would always continue to bicker. Nearby, a warehouse housed a dozen or so wooden slabs. Peasants gathered, their own passes well in hand, as a few took to line up at a 'Voyager Station.'

  There lied the distinction, of light packs and heavy trunks. Hopeful eyes sat in smaller groups; families, some with children, others with a partner, seeing beyond the moment.

  It was too much to see in one room. And the potential attention.

  She was the only Ascendant within her senses, like it was accurate much these days.

  This was going well, with the misery behind her. Halo was but a single voyage away. She had a hard time keeping down her smile.

  When noon came, it was almost abrupt. Shadows appeared on the horizon.

  It was one thing to read about Iron Ships with the destructive power of a Core Realm. It was another to witness the scale that made galleons feel small.

  The long bow tapered to a flat head, coated in uniform grey. Cannons poked their heads in groups of threes, assorted with what looked to be inferior weapons shattered between the edge. Save for the ship that followed, it didn't dock; but coast the waters just beyond, a massive cannon on the it's back took place of three, maybe four, pairs of the other ship's variant.

  Neither appeared to be manned or sported sails. In place of a mast, a watchtower of iron, topped with a glass casing stood. No doubt a captain's post, if not a watch dog's haven.

  The iron ship made port, and a wide gangway extended from the deck, meeting the wooden dock, poles extended at each section, as long bar sprouted from the edge of the ship to meet them. Sealing, holding. As a whole new realm of possibilities walked down the metal plank.

  Adorned with steel, lined with brass. A man without features; their body smooth and woven into each joint. A sword swayed by their side, and the other... a small cannon. Walking in a earie motion. Too straight. Too precise. It screamed an unnatural being.

  She stared at the mark of gold over their heart.

  1-47

  The Metal Man took poise at the front of the line, and motioned the peasants to scoot forward. Their passes in hand. Going on their merry way.

  Delphine continued to stare, her senses subtle, cast out, returned with a realization. Refinement Realm, Third Minor.

  But as she watched the Metal Man, an eclipse of awe kept her.

  A Machine, she thought. A maker... A wonder...

  Such a thing was possible?

  She had not known, her teachers never said such things were possible. And the scores of papers received in wrapping left much to be desired. Empty, almost.

  The maker of such things was left unknown. Man or woman? Origin and Realm? Crimes and heroics? Nothing was known save for what's in front of her. There were variants, but of the types given 'humanoid' forms, they existed as beings within the Refinement Realm. Beings-- or rather, as she read, intelligent Artifacts, crafted into existence, born stronger than she was.

  The last peasant boarded without trouble. The metal man awaited, and the last of Delphine's hesitance flurried off.

  Her head dipped as she was the last to come forward.

  "Pass," a voice; seemed to vibrate the very air, hazy almost. The Metal Man's hand outstretched, awaiting.

  She gave the small plaque from her [Inventory]. Instantly finding itself within a tight grasp. Mana swirled around, forming symbols for a fraction of a second. Her heart skipped a beat, before the light dimmed.

  "Welcome Delphine, your stay will be on the fourth deck. Room 405. You have free roam from the top through level five. Further physical inquiries about the layout of the ship will result in detainment, if the issue is pressed, and resistance is high, we cannot guarantee your safety from our weapons discharged.

  "Please be advised, there will be no fights aboard this ship. However, on request and consent of the other party, a match will be accepted. Infractions, of and the like, can be found within this pamphlet." The metal man handed her a small booklet. "If questions arise, please find one of the many human staff aboard.

  "Are my instructions clear, or would you like a replay?"

  "No, they are sound." She said, receiving the pamphlet in turn.

  "Proceed with boarding," the metal man motioned. "A guide will show you to your room."

  She nodded, making her way. Taking in the sight of the massive ship.

  A peasant awaited at the end. The man was broad, wearing a white and blue uniform and a comical looking hat. He made no words, but simply lead her into inner confines of the ship. Descending down to the lower levels.

  She expected it to be cold, the color of grey, and perhaps blue, making much of her housing.

  What she didn't expect were the light tones of color. A bed as plump as any she had ever seen. The lights of glass, absent of crystal shone, yet they weren't needed, for a window brought in much of the light. And further the rolling sea caught her eye, cuing her attendant to leave it seems.

  She closed the door. Setting down her pack, and took a seat by the small desk she was given. A smile came with the ending of the sun.

  Soon, it would be over. The weeks, the hardship, the uncertainty faded.

  Just two more days, a short trip down the coast and her journey would be one step closer to completion. Her heart pounded, and for the first time in recent memory, she welcomed the beat.