(Event) Reclamation of Pride | Page 27

Eryl could see the pain in the stranger’s face as they realized how bad they were doing. The game may have been virtual, but the pain was certainly real. She partly wanted to know how they did it, she partly didn’t. She was scuffed up some too, but it looked like this Mags was in worse shape.



It was clear to her that this other player had been around these things longer than her. Their skill and gear level was a lot higher than she was right now. She kind of found it ironic that the other player was thanking her for shoving her into the snow and trying to heal her.


“It’s the least I could do,” Eryl said with a soft smile. The blood on her blue lips cracked a little, reopening the wounds. It stung, but as soon as the new blood even showed its face, it froze over, forming in with the scab, “Players like you are the reason newer players like me managed to survive through this. And if you feel like you owe me something--well you can buy me a drink at a tavern sometime.”



If Mag needed help carrying her weight Eryl was more than glad to offer it as they made their way in. These strange halls were even more hospitable than the horrors out there, but that wasn’t saying much. She found a somewhat more secluded hideaway from the mass of where everyone else was. There was blood, soiled bandages, muffled cries, wailing sobs, moans of agony, mixed in with a few triumphant proclamations of victory. Eryl didn’t need those distractions or she’d probably have screwed it all up and made things so much worse for Mags.

"I don't want to attract unwanted attention," Eryl explained as they stepped through into the next room. "You never know who could want to steal your loot after an event like this, or try and take you out with a last minute PK strike. It would be a shame to get this far only to get cut down at the last second."


The small room she found for them had probably once been a larder for food. It smelt of cheese and ale, and there was a flat wooden table with a cleaver’s knife stuck in its gnarled top. A layer of straw and snow was scattered about the room. It was warmer here than the other room, and much warmer than outside. Eryl patted the top of the table for Mags to make herself comfortable. When she had, the redhead rolled her shoulders out, stretching some of the soreness away and tucking her leather gloves in her belt so she could think.

"Get ready, this might tingle," she warned her, "And, I've never tried this spell to this extend, so as for what exactly will happen here--your guess is as good as mine."


Concentrate.


With her eyes closed, Eryl’s fingers crisscrossed before her. She drew on the power of the game, creating a series of interconnected hexagons. With a flourish of her palm, they began to spin softly, their purple glowing energy ebbing like a river with sparkles from their very surface. Shimmering magenta lotuses appeared in the center of each as healing energy was imbued into the spell. Eryl gave both of her wrists a gentle flick, and the entire geometric construct soon graced Mag’s form, bringing healing energy and fresh life into her form. Eryl opened her eyes, their brown centers weary, but still determined.


She immediately felt lightheaded from the exertion and wobbled, almost falling over.

“Any better, Mags?” she asked with a weak smile.


She was already regretting the exertion she was putting out with this, but Eryl was confident that Mags would somehow repay her. She’d remember this, and one day, when Eryl needed help, Mags would be there. Or at least she hoped so.

@Magdalyn​

 

Celestine collapsed to her knees next to the bandit king, (considerably more than) half frozen and exhausted, as the battle raged on around her. Dead bandits fell in the distance as the shouting of plans, orders, and general chaos hit her ears full force. It was hard to tell, but they'd done it! They’d won!

All of a sudden, the ground shook with an ominous rumble. Dazed by the frenzy of battle, Cel whipped her head around, trying - and failing - to get a grasp on things, until her arm was grasped by another. The adorable neko hero in the thick armor, leading her away from the danger zone just in time for the whole section to collapse behind her into some dark abyss.

Walking was hard. Standing was hard. Everything was cold, but at that moment, Celestine felt a strange warmth coming from within. Without this snuggly looking kitty-person, she might’ve been… well, it was just a game, so it wasn’t like she could die for real, but… it sure felt that way.

“Thanks,” Celestine responded, as her wounds were patched a bit by a young-looking blond guy she hadn’t really noticed before. Nice as it was, her eyes were focused on the fluff-eared hero that was wandering around and trying to tie people up. “She is looking lost,” Cel commented aloud to no one in particular, standing back up with some difficulty. At least the worst of her wounds were done with.

“Hi there… erm…” Celestine started to say, before realizing she’d forgotten @Valdrada’s name. Had she even been introduced to her this whole time? “I am thinking without your help I would have done a fall of the death… and… you stopped me from doing the fall of the death. Which was great! And you are having the look of adorable! Which is… you know… also great! So uuummmmm…”

Unable to contain herself any longer, Celestine hopped forward and hugged the similarly-sized cat person tight, stroking her ears. It was… not actually all that satisfying with the hard, cold, non-snuggly armor in between the two of them. On the bright side, that just meant she could hug HARDER!

 

Emerath had spent so much time trying not to focus on his failures, that he had almost made yet another blunder in the mess that was the combat around them. Much to Emerath's surprise, Destiny had made a pass to try to save him, before Corvella actually saved him and Destiny both. Almost at the cost of her own life.

Emerath reflected on the end of the battle, not really having done much once the battle was over except shuffle inside. He hadn't even listened to Caccu talk about the end of the battle. He had simply... left.

Others had almost given their lives to save him, and Emerath didn't think he had been worth it. Not in this case. At least in Southwatch, he had managed to feel like he was making a difference. Here, he just felt like a hindrance. But yet, everyone was celebrating. They had done so much more than he had. More than he ever could have hoped to do.

He didn't play music, he didn't play with his science, he didn't feed anyone potions. He just, sat in the corner and stared off into the distance. He caught glimpses of Destiny and Corvella talking to each other, Majolica most likely scheming her next plot, and Celestine hugging someone who was most likely her savior. And that was mostly those that he recognized.

There was a man, a man he had recognized as his commander in Southwatch. Emerath believed his name was Kijin. He wasn't celebrating with everyone. He was... angry? What an odd reaction to what was supposed to be a grand victory.

Emerath's eyes scanned downwards to the rough stone they sat on. It vibrated lightly, as if something was still going on underground. Emerath could only wonder, seeing as they had yet to see their glorious leader return to them. Emerath had expected Zeus to be a part of the final battle. But he never made it back. Surely nothing would have happened to him right?

And then Emerath questioned himself again. Perhaps he should have gone down after Zeus, and followed him. He hadn't known anyone that had accompanied the man in the fall. Perhaps they had needed someone a bit stronger. Perhaps Emerath could have been more use there. A lot of what ifs.

Emerath buried his head in his knees. He couldn't face the people who had saved him. He couldn't face the rest of the lions right now. He had been a part of the problem, and useless besides. He decided to just sit here and wait, hiding from the world until they decided to drag him back to Astorea for a celebration he didn't deserve to be a part of.

 

There were bandits to disarm, heals to be given, and celebration to be had, but for the moment, Alkaid would have none of it. The death of another King who had bound his servants under his will seemed an echo of certain rumors she'd heard, making any and all empathy she could've had for the man long gone. There was but one NPC the game had her concern for, but he was long unaccounted for, and as tempting as it was to attempt to divine his location, something else caught her eye.

Someone slinking away, watching the aftermath with a gaze that could drown even a fairy's spirit. Someone—a now frequent teammate—who probably needed an active ear that knew where he was coming from...and perhaps a boot in the ass.

Alkaid wasn't sure if the red-haired man caught her approach, but by the time she was close enough to be heard, his face was buried in his knees. "Ah ah ahh, no sir. You're not hiding over here to party all by yourself, are you?"

Despite her accusatory words, Alkaid's tone was not unkind. Quite the opposite. She stopped close enough that she could've given him a pat on the head, were she so inclined, but she maintained that distance.

The reason for that was simple, beyond her not wanting to send the wrong message. When it came to men, there was something of an art when dealing with their emotions, although by no means was it entirely exclusive to men alone. But most of the time you couldn't just tell them that you're there for them, because they were either too stubborn or ego-driven to actually take the responsibility of speaking up on things. Furthermore, push too hard and they tended to sulk, so they usually also needed gentle questioning, assuming they talk at all. Some needed space. Some might want to get things off their mind with a quick trip or something.

Emerath being the brainy type, at the very least, helped narrow down that list. Which just left in question the ego department. Regardless, she offered him her remaining half of that oh so wonderful hot chocolate to break the ice instead.

"Now, I'm pretty sure I can guess why you're feeling down, so you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," It was, after all, something she was well familiar with. To a degree had even experienced recently, albeit in a different form, namely anger, which he probably had as well, given his mistake was there for all to see, "But if you're willing to listen, I want you to remind you of something. You're a bright guy, so I know you know all this already, but there is no point focusing on what's already happened. Yes, it's important to learn from your mistakes, but some times you just have a bad day. That's why we make teams, cover each others' backs. And besides, most of us who started this boss fight came out alright—that's a win in my book."

Placing a hand on her hip, she half-reached for her flask. She was pushing too hard, but at the same time some things needed to be said to sink in, "I don't want you to think I came over here just to lecture you, but our time in these big parties is limited. So limited that, if I recall correctly, this is the first time we've talked. And I'm sure there are many others who might want to meet you. Maybe to say thanks for a heal, or to turn what happened into one big joke that you could simply laugh off together."


@Emerath Katou

 

Hidden: Chess

O where has my boy gone? My good boy, where’d he go?
A pawn that’s black is striking a white foe.
My father won’t return. My father won’t be back.
A pawn that’s white destroys a pawn that’s black.
Crying in the rooms and silence on the green,
The king is playing with the queen.

My boy won’t rise again. He sleeps. He will not grow.
A pawn that’s black is striking a white foe.
My father is in darkness, darkness without slack
A pawn that’s white destroys a pawn that’s black.
Crying in the rooms and silence on the green,
The king is playing with the queen.

My boy once at my breast is now a cloud of snow.
A pawn that’s black is striking a white foe.
My father’s tender heart is now a frozen sack.
A pawn that’s white destroys a pawn that’s black
Crying in the rooms and silence on the green,
The king is playing with the queen.

O where has my boy gone? My good boy, where’d he go?
All soldiers black all soldiers white fall low.
My father won’t return. My father won’t be back.
There are no pawns all white and none all black.
Crying in the rooms and silence on the green,
On empty chessboards only king and queen​

It was all a game of chess.

They were the white pieces, and the strewn corpses were the black.

The king fell, and so the game was over.

Check. And. Mate.

Or so most hoped war was like.​

But reality is far more complex, even a virtual one. The pure white blanket had been stained with the scarlet of unrecognizable blood. There was no victor here, only a survivor. In war, both sides lose no matter what lies are spread.

Nothing was black and white.​

As Yukisa stared off into the ruins of the battlefield, those things dawned on him, leaving no room for him to take joy in their victory, nor in their successful rescue of Caccu. Up until now he had retained an innocent outlook. They were playing a game, going on an epic quest together to save the day from the evil Bandit King.

Yet… the pain. The suffering. The agony. It was all too real.

And for what purpose? They took the fortress, like they wanted to. But all it would do is serve as a home for the next batch of murderers, wouldn’t it?

All this time, he thought that the Pride meant justice, not just for one, but for all. The Pride meant heroism and honor. Was this what honor meant? Hundreds of deaths? Now he stood there, amongst the souls of the dead, and he couldn’t help but question if honor mattered… because if this was honor, he wanted no part in it.

“You… joined the Aristocracy?” Yukisa’s own voice echoed in his mind, a sentence that felt like a distant memory after all that happened. “Those… those murderers!?”

The silver-haired male lifted his hands to his face, covering it.

‘I said that to her… now look at me.’

His head throbbed. He wanted to sob. He was a hypocrite.

'I'm the murderer.'

It didn’t matter if he saved Caccu or prevented his companions from freezing. Because if he couldn’t show that kindness to strangers, what was the point?

He fell to his knees, sinking into the freezing snow, yet he was too cold inside to feel the difference in temperature. Those legs that managed to move as a result of his will to push forward could no longer carry his weight. His eyes glistened, tears soon following.

“You shouldn’t feel so guilty over killing a bunch of AI,” some would say. Yet what made the difference between a human and a machine that perfectly replicated one? Was it the flesh and blood, as opposed to the oil and metal… or was there no real difference?

Though Yukisa was silent, deep in his own thoughts, the tears kept pouring like water from a broken dam. It seemed strange that he would cry so much simply from seeing strangers dying… and perhaps it actually wasn’t just that. Perhaps these tears had built up within, locked up.

Perhaps it was good he could finally let them fall.

His reflecting had lasted for a long time, and it seemed that by then he was left alone in the cold. Standing up, slightly wobbly, he glanced around once more, just once more before heading inside. Still everything looked the same, as regret would not change what has been done. All he could do was live on with this agony.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°​

The warmth inside should have been comforting, yet Yukisa only felt colder looking around the fortress in which they did not belong, filled with injured companions and injured enemies alike. He glanced down at his own body, realizing that he was covered in dirt, wounds and taint… but he didn’t care. He was still alive, in the end.

Fortunately for him, seeing all these beaten people allowed his mind to drift from the dark place it was in to concern over their well-being. He began busying himself with treating them to the best of his ability, and with so many to care for, he was distracted for a long while.

Eventually, his “medical caravan” arrived at none other than the second-in-command, @Kazoo herself. He tended to her needs to the best of his abilities, primarily in silence. However, after a while, a tiny little question just couldn’t help but escape him.

“Say, Caccu…” he muttered hesitantly, his words clearly filled with emotion. “Have you ever… lost a friend over a stupid mistake?”​

 

Emerath slowly lifted his eyes to the woman who had approached him. He recognized her, the oracle type woman who had been a part of his venture into Arcadia. She offered him a drink, and he just sort of stared at it, before he took the gesture, slowly grasping the drink and taking a sip. It was sweet, but spicy. Emerath hadn’t expected that, but it wasn’t unwelcome in this cold.

She went on about accepting his failures. It reminded him a lot of his mom when he would fail a test he hadn’t studied enough for, or for making a fool of himself when he didn’t properly understand English and kids took advantage of that. He wanted to agree, but the pain of his failure weighed on him heavily.

“What if...” he started to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He always said that. What if this, what if that. But what ifs always got him nowhere. Nowhere but in this deep pit of depression.

Emerath slowly stood on shaky legs, rubbing his cheeks of the dried streaks that had remained. Before giving a smile to the woman. “You know, I don’t think I ever actually got your name. Our time in Arcadia and here was so chaotic,” he admitted.

He wanted to hug her, for being the one out of everyone to care. He took another sip of the spicy hot chocolate instead. He didn’t know her well enough yet. “Thank you,” he said with a light sigh on his lips. Sure he had failed at trying to destroy an entrance, but there were so many other good things he had done. So many good things they had all done.

“Thank you,” he repeated, looking at all the smiling faces of their victory.

@Alkaid Zexis

 

Weary, eye bags prominent, and barely able to stand on trembling legs she sighed before pulling thin strands of pink hair from her flushed face. The widespread sense of relief - very familiar and even more so accepted with open arms - spread from person to person until everyone cheered with a might expressed greater than when in battle. Done with proving herself and with mentally suffering and focusing on a mission with both an impact and no meaning whatsoever; she decided it wouldn't be so bad of a time to distract herself from such penetrating emotions. Warmth embraced her strained figure upon entering the fortress. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like amidst the cold weather outside.

Comet rolled her eyes at the thought of Temperance's reaction to being saved upon choosing hindrance to the imminent progression of breaking down. Grateful, but too prideful, and nothing could be better. Long legs carried her to @Temperance - quite the easy player to be spotted - but only for a quick talk. "We weren't partying. We were mid-battle," she poked at the white-haired woman before shuffling away, but not without a sincere wave. "You and I... let's talk sometime again after this, yeah?" emotions hidden behind dulled eyes once a brilliant sight, a small smile lifted Comet's lips but nothing could be derived from the plain expression painting her face. Perhaps it was tiredness. Or maybe something more?

Shrugging the thought away she allowed a response from Temperance before moving to search for and then check on @Magdalyn. It seemed someone else was taking care of her - which made her feel much better in the moment - so the Archer awaited her turn before softly tapping on her friend's shoulder as to not disrupt any conversation. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead, yknow? We got separated," with a shrug of the shoulders, nothing compared to the worry inside she felt, Comet continued speaking. "Good news is you look better than ever and you're still alive. No more zombies I guess." a deep chuckle and awkward shifting of the eyes ended what she had to say. The emerald orbs settled on @Eryl Justice who the pink-haired woman nodded towards in respect and acknowledgment. Finally, her lithe body finally allowed some sort of rest for itself: the first time in a long time.

 

Clearing rooms of leftover bandits wasn't something that particularly interested him after the Bandit King's defeat. Heck, he didn't even feel like talking to anyone for that matter. Their party had been in close quarters with each other for days with very few opportunities for alone time. He wasn't about to waste this chance and besides, it wasn't like the others weren't capable of doing something like rounding up stragglers without him. So, he wandered off toward one of the smaller rooms to rest. After moving to sit at the table in the center of the room and he got comfortable and began to trace an incantation out in the air using his ring.

---​

The soft glow that surrounded the spirit mage had finally faded away as the effects of his healing spell came to an end. He hadn't suffered much more than a few scrapes and bruises during the battle, but he still figured it was better that they were dealt with now while he had the energy to spare. His magic had the power to close wounds, but it couldn't mend hearts or put minds at ease; two things he was desperate for at this point. This wasn't the first time he had used his blade to spill human blood and it likely wouldn't be the last. It never seemed to get easier though; at least not until after the dust settled anyway. In the heat of the moment, with everyone’s lives on the line, what choice did he have? These people were evil and getting rid of them was for the good of the Astorean people. That aside, their victory here would also aid in restoring the name of his faction to its former greatness. Alric should have been happy. All things considered, they couldn't have asked for a more successful outcome.

He was supposed to feel like a hero.

So why was he feeling so hollow?

 

Savannah sat with her head tilted back against the wall, her long black hair strewn haphazardly around her head. There were flecks of dried blood locking a few strands together and her breastplate was filthy, but she couldn’t summon up the energy to do anything about it. The adrenaline for battle had long since ebbed and disappeared, leaving her more tired than she had ever felt in her entire life.

Still, when her ears caught the sound of quick footfalls coming her way, she couldn’t help but reach out to her weapon. It lay against her side, the blade filthy, and it was a comfort to wrap her fingers around the haft, but it was useless. She didn’t have the energy to lift the weapon. If it was a bandit coming to kill her, then she would die here, weak and alone, because she went blood crazy during the battle.

Never again, she silently vowed to herself, her fingers digging into the wooden handle as she pinched her eyes closed. She could almost feel the cold marble pressing against her back. The panic rose within her swift and angry, but she wouldn’t cry, and she couldn’t lash out. She could only accept the outcome with a grimace…

But then there were arms wrapping around her and the fresh scent of orchids in her nostrils and Savannah could have cried she was so happy.

L-Luna? came her hoarse voice, her eyes barely opening partly due to her lack of energy and partly due to a headache that pounded just behind her eyelids. Coming down from a battle high was nothing she ever wanted to experience a second time. Granted, if it allowed for another peck on the cheek like the one Luna had just delivered her, she might have to consider rethinking her position.

The Knight immediately blushed, a very small, very private smile attempting to cross her mouth, but she wouldn’t let it. She…there was so much that she and Luna had to talk about and now wasn’t the time or place to do it. One of Savannah’s hands sought out the hand of the white-haired caster, gripping it tightly when she did finally find it.

I went crazy, she told the other girl, glad that she couldn’t open her eyes and look at her friend. I didn’t protect you, at all. I just…I can’t do that shit again. You could’ve died all because of …because…I got so fucking reckless. The pain in Savannah’s voice was nearly tactile and the images she saw behind her eyelids was enough kick in the ass to make sure that this never happened again.

I’m glad nothing happened to you, she whispered, her shoulders slumping with relief. I would’ve hated myself if you died because of me.​

@Luna Avalbane

 

Luna found her teary smile widening as Savannah's hand gripped her own, giving the tired woman's hand a soft squeeze as she chuckled breathlessly and pressed her forehead to the woman's, just glad that both of them had survived the whole ordeal. Whether they were the heroes or not didn't matter when the things she'd worried about the most turned out to be untrue. Savannah was right here and Luna wasn't going to let her go anywhere as she was. For once, she felt like she could put her foot down and actually act responsible, act like she was in charge of something.

She shook her head, shooting the girl with as kind a smile as she could muster, breathing heavily to push past her own exhaustion as the adrenaline left her body. "You didn't fail though, did you? I'm still here, you're still here. You were seen as a threat and I wasn't." She panted, pressed her forehead to Savannah's again as she did nothing but hold the woman close, trying to convey through touch that she wasn't going anywhere. Whatever reason that Lucia had wanted her to come on this adventure for, Luna was glad that she'd gone along with it for the bond she'd forged with Savannah. The woman knight had become a model for her, almost an ideal to work towards. Savannah embodied what it meant to be dedicated to a task, though right now, she couldn't let the woman believe she'd failed.

"You m-might have been....a-a little reckless....b-but for now at least....let's not think..." She smiled, slumping into the woman and curling up slightly into her side. She was so tired, even though she hadn't been hurt all that badly. The cold and that strange ant goo had all but sapped her strength. But Savannah....the poor woman looked like she needed as much as she could get. Almost as if an unspoken order had been issued, Natiri plodded over and gently laid herself over the two women, keeping them as warm as she could. "I-I promise to always have your back....S-Savannah. F-fighting with you....I-I feel so safe..."

It was a strange thought, that she could feel safe whilst in the middle of a battle. Savannah clearly lost herself in the haze of it all, but even then, she could tell the woman would do anything to keep her safe. "J-just remember that.....I-I'm here for you when you n-need to cool your head. A-and so is Lucia..."

@Savannah Reed

 

By some miracle, Freja was still standing, still alive. She looked up, almost as stupefied as the final wave of bandits that appeared before her, arriving a moment too late for a leader that had already fallen. Their eyes fell upon their King with varying reactions: outrage, despair, and panic. Other adventurers appeared from behind Freja to apprehend the forces; she was sluggish to notice that one anonymous soldier had noted her paling complexion and sought to remedy it, throwing a cloak of furs over her shoulders. Exhaustion was setting in. What she would do for a pint of a warm drink, a long rest. . . .

Before she could succumb to that temptation, @Kijin Shihaku called out to Freja, breaking her out of her stupor. “You okay?”

Freja blinked as if the nature of the question confused even her. She had to search her mind a moment to think back to all the times in the courtyard she had come to harm: from the encounter with Blank, the peculiarly-summoned giant ant, the confrontation with the Bandit King, and finally wiping out the remnants of his loyal subjects. Nothing.

She finally gave the swordsman a weak smile. “I’m fine. Just worn out.” Physically and mentally. Brushing with death had shown a side of her she didn’t know existed, much less wanted to accept. The worst part was she was barely even hurt. Just horrendously unprepared for the elements.

She wanted to talk more, at least to kill the monotony of the walk back to the fortress, back to some semblance of warmth, but evidently, the man had plans, having already left.

Inside the fortress, she huddled around the fire, hard at work making another batch of Wassail, one that would hopefully last for several days this time around. It was usually a seasonal drink, but Freja enjoyed the mulled spirit on any snowy occasion that called for others to take warmth and shelter. The bite of the cinnamon, cloves, and orange zest, peel, and pith was a perfect balance of the sweetness brought out by the honey and apples mixed with a properly aged wine, and the unspoken rule to drink it while warm offset the vasodilating effect of alcohol. It helped to keep her mind off the discomfort she was feeling from slowly thawing out.

She’d have to reconsider after this just how much she really did like the actual cold, however. Somewhere out in the real world, one of Emma’s presumed Viking ancestors was probably rolling in his unmarked grave, despairing what his descendant had become.

Sealing the finished product away in proper flasks, Freja went to a window overlooking the courtyard. The snow was weakening a little, making a mountain range in the Hylands visible, but she could no longer see any of the bodies of the people that had fallen in the earlier battle, not even the Bandit King’s, though whether snow or man had claimed them, she could not guess. Only traces of their previous chaos remained in the shape of the collapsed structures, but she could only barely see the wood and stone.

A familiar voice echoes in the nearby halls. Freja turned, catching sight of both @Alkaid Zexis and @Emerath Katou engaged in a poignant conversation that she didn’t have the heart to interrupt. The dancing campfire highlighted the tears that had streaked the latter’s eyes, at first causing some concern for her, but she relaxed seeing that the former seemed to have things under control. A blessed relief, with so many others among them being given to despair or vindictiveness.

Instead, she remembered one more person in the crowd, who luckily also wasn’t difficult to find.

“Yo!” She called out to @Temperance in a fey, merry voice, walking over, wrapping her arm over her shoulder—admittedly hiding some weakness she still had in her legs with an overly friendly act. “Nice work out there, punrade. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that Wassail I owe you, so get it while it’s hot!” She handed one of the bottles, “And there you have it! I still need my friend’s brandy to complete the package, but that’ll getcha by ‘til then.”

 

Just as the knight in the black armor thought it was all over for her, a familiar figure came back to get her out of this mess. As they escaped from the crumbling courtyard, exhausted Corvella smirked to @Kaede Hoshi "I remembered telling you that I would risk my life, didn't I?" Maybe if she wasn't an idiot that thought that she could carry two people to safety, Kaede wouldn't have to go back. They made their way to the rest of the group, avoiding the shattering grounds and the chaos around it. The battle was soon over, with the bandits losing their will to fight further.

Corvella really wanted to help with securing the rest of the fortress, if not for her depleted EN. For now, she sat with her back against a stone wall while waiting for her turn to get healed. The girl with an orange head, Caccu, briefed them that the job is almost done. But we haven't even rendezvoused with Zeus yet, where could he be? Also, earlier in the battle gigantic ants started to come from beneath the ground. Is this place even safe anyway?

"Hhh.." she exhaled before realizing a hand extended after she looked up. The blonde quickly stood up in panic to see whose hand was it. The hand, reaching out for a greeting belongs to @Destiny Divebird, the girl (that oddly just looked like a J-pop/K-pop kinda man) she tossed out of the crumbling grounds earlier. "Oh! Hey." Corvella shook the girl's hand in return while introducing herself "I'm Corvella." She chuckled at Destiny's apolo-thanks before immediately disagreed "No, no. What you did was very brave. I'm just doing what I had to do." Wait, she also owe someone a thanks and also an apology. After a quick chat with Destiny, she fared her well "See you around, then" before running to get some business done.

Corvella jogged around the interior until she caught the glimpse of @Nalla, to which she called out "Hey! I wanted to say tha- Is that an arrow lodged on your shoulder?" Her face turned surprised, but she quickly resumed her conversation regardless "Uh, so yeah. I wanted to thank you for the support out there, else I would be an ice block right now." Her right hand began to nervously stroke the back of her head "And... sorry for not being there to stop the attack. I had strength to protect, and yet somebody still had to save me at the cost of their own life... I still have much to learn."

 

Valdrada was brought out of her epiphany by the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow coming closer. Looking up, she saw @Celestine standing there, now looking much more patched up. So, looks like a healer had seen to her already, good.

"Oh!" Valdrada blinked, blushing lightly at the thanks. "Y-you're welcome. I'm glad you're oka- eek!"

The hug very much took her by surprise. Given the freezing temperatures, anyone clinging tightly to Valdrada's metal armor would have to be uncomfortably cold, but Celestine just appeared to take it as an invitation to squeeze even tighter. Val froze for just a moment, before awkwardly returning the hug. She wasn't used to randomly getting hugs from people that weren't her family (though it had been... a while... since she got one from them too, now that she was thinking of it...) so it took her a while to remember how one was supposed to traditionally react to a hug.

Not wanting to make things too uncomfortable for Celestine, she broke the hug not too long after. A strong gust of wind blew across the courtyard, and people began talking about another possible blizzard coming soon. Grimacing, Valdrada took Celestine's hand, similar to how she pulled the other Felis out of the collapsing battlefield but this time with much less urgency.

"We shouldn't stay outside if there's another blizzard coming," she said, beginning to make her way to the inside of the fortress where a few other people were going in. "We should go inside where it's warmer, especially since you're still hurt."

If Celestine wouldn't resist, Val led the way through the doorway into the shelter, holding hands the entire way.

 

Roland stood in the back for the majority of the battle, letting the others charge forward in pursuit of victory. He cared little for ending the Bandit King's life or that of his minions, but that alone wasn't enough to give him pause. What truly shocked him was the formation of a black fog high overhead. Most who saw it would have ignored it assuming it to be a thunder cloud caused by the blizzard the annoying ice mage had cast, but to Roland it meant something very different. It was the dissonance.

"How?" Roland mouthed, as he turned wide eyed, looking for the telltale signs of the creatures it spawned before.

Sword in hand he waited throughout most of the battle for the monstrosities to appear, only they never did. Instead the fog began to suddenly lurch forward flinging itself down into what appeared to be some sort of portal leading to... Vermilion's castle?!

Roland stood there dumb founded. What could this mean?