Fivefold Star

by Dantaron

At the end of the Golden Age, five Adepts swore an oath to fight for the future of Weyard. Their names remain an echo unto the present age... Dullahan, Sentinel, Valukar, Star Magician, and the Wise One... this is their story. [Memoria Series]

14. The End of an Era

Chapter 14: The End of an Era

Part I: The Beginning of the End

The Fivefold left the inn and set off to the Council to announce their departure, but to their surprise the Council was awaiting them outside the inn. King Astonas, Queen Galedia, Vishnar, Skye, Sthraume, Elder Viyat, Lynn, and Regent-Chancellor Hydros turned out to see them off, as well as Scythia and Calathur, smiling weakly and leaning on each other for support.

"Couldn't… let you go… without…. saying goodbye," Scythia said weakly, gasping. She leaned on Calathur's shoulder and closed her eyes.

The Sol Adept glanced tenderly down on her, and then turned to the Fivefold and nodded. "It's an honour to finally met you, Fivefold," he said, and inclined his head respectfully.

"The feeling's mutual," Cinaed said amiably.

Viyat stepped forward and unrolled a scroll. He cleared his throat, and began to speak. "We, the assembled, as the representatives of each Elemental Clan, have the authority to delegate you your tasks." He coughed, and began to speak. "Maris, to Tresauria for Azul. Cinaed, to Yampi for Daedalus. Shamira, to the Eastern Sea for Catastrophe. Orior, to Atteka for Charon. Lastly, Aleos, to Atteka as well, for Iris."

The Fivefold nodded, accepting their tasks, but Aleos leaned towards Orior and said in a murmur, "Orior… I may not be able to remove Iris. I have a vendetta to settle." Orior nodded solemnly.

Shamira tightened Skyshard at her side, and turned to the Council. "Wish us luck."

Skye smiled. "Good luck. Oh, Shamira!" She said suddenly. "May I talk with you a moment?"

Shamira seemed surprised. "Sure."

Skye pointed a bit off in the distance. "Let's go." The two Jupiter Adepts broke off and put their heads together, talking in whispered tones. The others wanted patiently, and after half a minute the two warriors nodded, and came back, Shamira's eyes bright.

"Well…" Viyat said, a bit irked at the interruption. "Farewell."

"FAREWELL!" The Council shouted, and bowed as one.

Maris ran towards them and embraced her kinsmen and friend. "Goodbye, you three. Stay strong, and may Mercury watch over you."

Orior walked towards his sovereigns and parents, and fell to one knee. Astonas looked kindly down on him, and spoke. "Rise." Orior rose, and saluted his King and bowed to his Queen.

"May Venus be with you." Galedia said.

"And also with you," Orior responded, and with a flare of his cloak he turned and walked away, full of pride.

Cinaed stepped up before his draconigena, and bowed. The Paladin clapped a strong hand on his shoulder, and looked down on the Proxian from his 6'8'' height. "Never fall, Cinaed." Sthraume said sternly, and the two dragoons bowed their heads towards each other, the crest of their helm touching the other's in the Proxian fashion.

Shamira and Skye waved to each other, saying goodbye mentally.

Aleos did nothing, just turned away and stood stonily. He felt a hand on each of his shoulders, one strong and warm, the other slight and pale. They turned him around, and he found himself facing Calathur and Scythia. "Do not let the thirst for revenge cloud your judgement," the Atavian said.

"I know Regnoare better than anyone, and he's bound to have a trick or two up his sleeve. Beware," Scythia added.

Aleos started. "What? How did you…"

Scythia merely winked. "I can read you like a book. It is in our elements' nature to judge the motive and souls of others."

"So," Calathur continued. "We are advising you to not be foolhardy. You have a slim chance of surviving this task, if you attempt it."

Aleos gritted his teeth. "Death does not faze me. I have to do this."

Calathur nodded as if he understood. "I see. Do not think that death is the only outcome, though."

"Goodbye, Aleos," Scythia said tiredly, and leaned on Calathur for support, her energy sapped.

"And may Sol watch over you." Calathur said.

"Sol is not my lord," Aleos said bitterly, and turned and left Vale, the eyes of the two watching him retreat sadly.

The Fivefold, once their farewells were said, met outside the much-reduced boundaries of Vale. Aleos drew Masamune and the others followed suit, each drawing their own artefact. The raised their weapons to the sky, all five tips meeting as in the day they met.

"Now." Aleos said. "We have come through fire and ice, through wind and earth, and through Shadow to where we are today. This is the last hurrah Fivefold," he looked around, holding their eyes evenly. "We conclude. The tale of Fivefold Star is at an end. We go now to accomplish what, when we started out, would have been impossible: the fall of Regnoare. We, and we alone," his voice rang out, "have brought Regnoare from Lord of Weyard to a fugitive on the run from our power. We," he continued, his voice rising, "are heroes. And though our names may not be remembered in the annals of history," his voice softened, "remember this. We accomplished this. We changed the course of history. Go now, Fivefold. And triumph." He clashed his weapon against the others, and the others did the same. They all shouted a battle cry and as one they sheathed their weapons, turned away, and sprung into the skies on the wings of Volatilis.

Part II: The fall of Mercury

Maris hummed to herself as she flew over northeastern Angara, the turquoise wings of Volatilis beating strongly and propelling her far with each flap. She weaved through the tall peaks of the Ikatic range, quite comfortable in the howling blizzard that raged around her, as the snowflakes passed through the Psynergy wings and didn't hinder them at all. Shortly after entering, she emerged through the northern side, and choked back a sob when she saw what remained of Imil.

Waves crashed softly against the shore, the ruined remnants of the City of Crystal floating on the tide and grinding against the shoals. Mercury Lighthouse stood like a sad sentinel on a peninsula of land, miraculously untouched by Azul's attack. The majority of Imil, which had ringed it in a crescent shape, was washed into the ocean and indeed the very earth below it was worn away.

Luckily, Azul's attack failed in the extreme inland and merely uprooted the structures, leaving a smooth plain of heavy snow left over. Already, a small amount of Adepts worked to rebuild some small vestige of the old glory in the shadow of Mercury Lighthouse. Maris shook her head sadly, and looked far off in the distance, where the sprawling now-island of Tresauria was.

Maris was saddened as she flew towards what was once Imil's Sanctum. The beautiful rivers that flowed towards the Crystal Lake were obliterated, and now craggy shoals were all that remained of the peaceful paradise, deadly to any ship that approached. Long, spidery fingers of rock trailed through the waters, waiting unseen beneath the waves to wreck anybody that approached by sea. Air was truly the only way to access the Isle.

The cavern mouth was situated as always, nestled in the arms of two great mountains. Torn and destroyed trees littered the entire isle, damp and torn from the ground by Azul's passage. A rocky barren wasteland was blasted from the ocean directly to the cave. Rocks had been thrown haphazardly across the island, and their jagged points now warned any who entered by giving the appearance of a mouth full of tearing teeth.

Maris landed a goodly distance away from the cave and disabled Volatilis. She picked her way cautiously trough the field of broken rock, biting back a cry of pain as she fell and skinned her hands. Cursing softly in Imilian, she picked up her dress and almost danced through the rest of the stones, and at last arrived at the entrance to Imil Sanctum.

She almost wept when she saw the damage Azul had done. The beautiful aquamarine stones that had formed an arch around the cavern mouth were knocked down, and now lay forgotten in the earth. The sides of the cave were ripped and torn, as if something of immense size had forced its way inside. "Which," Maris considered, "is probably what happened."

Clutching Leviathan in her left hand, she ran her hand along the blasted gate as she entered the sanctum. She bit her lip, silently cursing Azul for this defilement. She ducked into the cave, and it was some consolation to her that the candle-torches were still lit, if barely.

The initial tunnel was blasted and ruined, and chunks of blue tile were embedded in the soil like so much garbage. She passed through the first door, and into a wide chamber of water and stone. Strange blue-green platforms rose from the water, carved with the emblem of Sol, and countless chests were strewn throughout the cavern, the valuable treasures of the Mercury Clan. The walls were a dull blue, and the ceiling was worn smooth by the erosion of ancient waters. Maris hopped across the pillars, singing softly to herself in Imilian, and moved through the next door.

The next room was much the same, and Maris almost skipped through as if merry, but her mind was on two things: punishing Azul for what he had done, and Cinaed. Even now, she wished she had the Proxian's arms around her, and her head nestled into his strong chest. She shook her head, blinking. Her mind was wandering, she had to focus on the task at hand.

The next room was a chamber planned out to be only crossable by Mercury, Jupiter, or Venus Adepts, to keep the Water Clan's onetime enemy of Mars out. Platforms rising from the water formed a rough path, and a rope was tied connecting two cliffs. Venus Adepts had the most difficult time, having to solve a puzzle using the rare Psynergy Grind, and solve a puzzle that was impossible without the aid of a Mars Adept's Psynergy Move. Odd, Maris realized, to force Venus Adepts to bring in a Mars, their enemy, if they wanted past.

Jupiter Adepts, if they knew Volatilis, could simply fly over, and Mercury Adepts could simply cast Fluto and walk on the water. Though Maris was perhaps the only Mercury Adept to know Volatilis, she decided to go with tradition and cast Fluto. A blue halo appeared above her head, as she stepped off into the water and ran lightly across, jumping onto land just as the spell dissolved.

The next room was another puzzle style, solvable by the same means. As Maris ran on the water by the magic of Fluto, she could only appreciate the works of the Ancients of the Chaos Age, the last time this cave had actually been inhibited. In those days, the world was an unstable place, and for all of two millennia war reigned over Weyard, its only king. Nations rose and fell in a blink of an eye, and in a time when every being wielded the full power of Sol Aurarius, nothing was sacred.

Giving thanks that that age was no more, Maris leapt onto dry land once more and ducked through another door.

She gave a helpless sigh when she saw what that accursed Azul had done to the halls. The once-beautiful passages, lined with blue stone that owned a lustre seen few places else, was ruined and torn to sheds by the serpent. Huge boulders, torn from the ceiling, blocked paths and forced Maris to backtrack a few times as she weaved her way through the labyrinthine ways.

A huge boulder loomed in her way, blocking her path completely. She looked around the sides, saw that it was scraping the walls on each side, and stepped back. She put her hands on her hips and sighed. Azul could've only have done this intentionally for it to fit so perfectly, and that means he was expecting opposition. She had hoped she could have caught him with his guard down as he gloried in his triumph, but appeared she would not be so lucky.

She shook her head and outstretched her arms towards the mammoth rock. Casting Deluge, she blasted the stone with a wave of water, drenching the rock in an immense blast of water. She stepped back and raised one hand, casting Megacool. The icy spell, capable of creating icicles from mid air, froze the water that had seeped inside the cracks of the stone. With a splitting sound and a noise vaguely resembling an explosion, the rock burst in all directions, and Maris stood very still as spinning pieces of rock flew past her, one almost cutting off her ear. That adventure over, she sighed and made her way forward.

Passing through a door, a great room of cliffs rose before her, sown with boulders as if by some insane gardener. Maris looked at the wreckage before her and shook her head. There was no way a Mercury Adept could come through this. "Unless," Maris thought, smiling as she rose into the air, "that Adept knows Volatilis." She turned in midair and beat her way over to the eastern side of the chamber, and took the northern door.

She entered the final hall of Tresauria, and she grew excited. Azul had to be close. The halls, stone, and the very air itself reeked with the serpent's foul stench, and water moved sluggishly in odorous puddles. Maris moved forward eagerly, taking the correct path to the final room as if she was born and raised there, instead of only the odd visit. She stopped short before the final chamber, titling her head in confusion. Where the final doorway should have been, there was a solid wall of ice, and if its opaqueness was any indication it was extremely thick. She took a deep breath, and stepped forward to lay her hands on the ice. Vaporous smoke trailed off it as she neared, and as she touched it she drew back with a hiss, shaking her hand. The thing was extraordinarily cold, more than should have been able to exist on this realm. She drew Leviathan, and looked at the staff with affection.

"Leviathan, don't fail me now!" She half-turned and embedded the sapphire jewel on the base into the wall. It slid in easily without a fight, and there was a blast of air as the entire wall just shattered into glittering shards, revealing that it was in fact a dam holding back a veritable sea of water. Maris only had time to blink before an immense wall of water crashed down on her, and she was swept back.

Fighting the raging waves, she tightened her grip on Leviathan and muttered a short incantation in Imilian. A blue glow surrounded her head, and she exhaled calmly. She could breathe underwater with ease now. Turning to the wall, she lashed out with her staff and stabbed the crescent blade into the wall, and she was abruptly torn from the grasp of the water, and hung onto her staff for dear life.

Swearing softly, she turned sideways and stepped on the wall, fighting the current of the water even as it rose to the ceiling. She braced herself against the stone and yanked out Leviathan, then quickly lunged forward and dug it in again. By repeating this process, she slowly but surely inched forward, eventually into the final chamber itself, where she hoped she would find Azul.

In a haze of faint blue water, Maris crawled through the chamber, digging her way slowly forward since the force of the water showed no signs of abating. Maris risked a glance up at the chamber around her.

The floor cropped away bare feet in front of her into a seemingly bottomless pit, though it couldn't be since six stone pillars rose form its depths. A tongue of rock protruded from the cliff on the other side of the gap, and was carved into stairs to lead up to the altar. Four blue torches were arranged in a semi-circle around the altar, and they burned with an unnatural blue flame in the rushing water, a physical impossibility. The altar was nestled in a secluded alcove in the back of the chamber, and hung with pearls and sapphires.

Or, rather, used to be. Instead, Maris found herself looking into the eyes of her foe.

The foul serpent was coiled up where the altar used to be, crushing the sacred shrine under his weight. His tail tip was twitching absently as he watched, amused, at the Imilian's struggle. His head rested on a coil of his serpentine body, and he seemed at once both wise and cruel.

He had a beaklike mouth with no teeth, sharp and capable of crushing stone. Golden eyes glowed behind heavy eyebrows and high cheekbones which flowed back to the back of his head, sprouting twin whiskers over twenty feet long. A single giant fin rose from the centre of his skull and swooped back, serving as a rudder when he swam. Four wide fins rose from his spine at various points, and the end of his tail was tipped with an immense fin, almost like a sail. His underbelly was a soft beige speckled with flecks of peach, his upper scales were ultramarine dappled with red spots, and his sand coloured fins were tipped with azure tints. His whiskers were beige as well, and streaked with red colours. All in all, his appearance was deceiving, almost friendly looking.

But there was no mistaking the predatory look in his eyes. He was Azul, the awakened dragon of the deep. He slowly uncoiled, rising into the air far above the Imilian's head. "What business have you with me, Princess Maris?" The terrible current slowed, and Maris stood, drawing Leviathan from her sash.

"Vengeance, justice, and the ending of a great darkness. Azul, you have pledged allegiance to Regnoare, and for that you must pay!"

Azul cocked his head sideways and seemed to grin. "And you are fit to pass judgement. How amusing. This I must see."

"You may be cocky now, but let's see for how long!" Maris shot back.

"Hm," Azul said, unruffled. "Let's begin, then." He opened his jaw wide, and breathed forth more water. The very boundaries of reality begin to quiver and dissolve as everything was replaced by water, water, and more water. The stone walls of the cave began to give way as if it was only jelly, and behind it there was only more water. The platform dissolved below Maris, and she found herself floating in an endless sea. She turned around, and in every direction she saw only turquoise waters, no sign of anything but water, except for the form of Azul as he rippled through the waves in front of her. She raised Leviathan in a defensive position.

"Azul." A voice said darkly, and Maris looked down on her staff, and saw the eyes of the dragon sculpture shining a light blue. She realized that Leviathan was speaking. "Traitor."

"Leviathan!" Maris exclaimed, speaking with the aid of her breathing spell. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Of course. He's my distant relative, in fact. Azul!" Leviathan said, addressing the other serpent. "How dare you betray Imil?"

"Leviathan!" The serpent snarled. "Go back and hide in your little staff again, and watch as I destroy your master!"

"Princess, I can only tell you that he relies heavily on water in all aspects of his being. Now, you are on your own." With that, the azure eyes of the dragonhead darkened into normal stone again, and Maris sighed.

"That's really helpful," she said scornfully.

There was a woosh sound, and then Maris felt she was just hit by a caravan led by mad horses. She crumpled forward as she flew backwards, and bubbles blasted through the water as she passed by at massive speeds. She dimly saw Azul withdrawing his tail, smiling victoriously. Her head snapped back as she crashed into something that felt like a wall, and she struggled to remain conscious. It felt like her body was torn in her half. Her midriff screamed in pain, and it felt like several of her ribs were broken in multiple places. She was undoubtedly also suffering from internal bleeding as well. She hung suspended in the waves, head downcast. Then her fingers flexed, and she called the abundant power of Mercury around her. "Pure Ply!" Immediately, relief flooded into her as her bones snapped back into place, and the internal bleeding began to slow, and eventually stopped. She slowly straightened, and hesitantly poked around. It was still a little sore, but much of an improvement.

She sighed with relief, and then realized she could still feel the 'wall' she had hit. She turned around and outstretched her hands. They stopped suddenly a few feet in front of her, and she felt something like an invisible barrier. She ran her hands up and down, and realized it was faintly curved. Craning her neck up, she saw that it must enclose her and Azul in some chamber. Remembering the serpent, she turned around and blanched.

The serpent was grinning cruelly as he slithered through the water towards her, beating the water with ease. Massive ripples were sent off in every direction, and yet he outraced them. He was barrelling straight for her, and Maris knew she had to do something.

She braced herself against the invisible barrier behind her, and watched Azul approaching. He opened his jaws wide with glee, then closed it and lowered his skull. Maris flexed her legs and jumped off the wall, flipping upwards in a dizzying manoeuvre.

Azul hissed with surprised his he crashed headfirst into the barrier, his head wrenching sideways at an unnatural angle. He sputtered curses, and then turned up and glared at Maris. And if looks could kill, she would be dead.

"Bubble Blast!" Azul cried, and a stream of bubbles poured from his open jaws. They foamed forth around Maris and tossed her around like a rag doll, and it felt like a multitude of rocks were pelting into her body. Finally it stopped, and Maris put her hands on her knees, gasping. Azul uncoiled and began slithering upwards again, closing in on the Imilian slowly.

"Freeze Prism!" Maris called, and chunks of ice appeared from the surrounding water and smashed into Azul, who flinched a bit under the attack but continued on. "Megacool!" A wall of ice appeared before the serpent but he just barrelled through, snarling. "Nothing's working!" Maris cried silently, and then remembered Leviathan's words:

"Princess, I can only tell you that he relies heavily on water in all aspects of his being."

"That's it…" She whispered in amazement, and raised a hand. "Parch!" A bright red sphere appeared in front of her, and bubbles rose upwards as the water evaporated rapidly. The spell fed of its own energy, and in this place of almost endless water, it wasn't stopping anytime soon. The red sphere expanded into a red circle, and blasted out in every direction, and Maris rode in the wake of it as she fell through the empty space that was created where there once water. Azul stopped short, horrified. The red circle passed over him and he shuddered reflexively. He retreated from the burning circle, into the depths of his own water, and watched the incoming spell fearfully.

Maris saw her chance. With Azul so far away, she could weave a spell. A colossal one.

Knowing she had no other option, Maris began to whisper the incantation for the strongest spell she knew. The ancient Imilian words flowed off her tongue as she weaved her arms in ever-more-intricate patterns. A massive blue aura began to glow around her, deepening from a bright azure to a royal navy. Then, the channels of Mercury opened like the breaking of a dam, and pure power flooded into Maris.

"SEA'S EMBODY!" She screamed.

A dark blue water flowed from Maris' hands, a sharp contrast to the light turquoise of Azul. Maris found herself once again suspended in water, and watched with eyes faintly glowing as her water spell approached the Parch. She held her breath, hoping Parch wouldn't destroy her spell, but instead her spell overcame Parch, and the burning red line fizzled out. The two waters rushed into each other with a frothing crash, and Maris felt entrapped in a writhing sphere.

Azul, faintly visible through the haze, narrowed his eyes and channelled more power into his water, and it slowly began to force Maris' back. But she had the Goddess Mercury on her side, and she too enhanced her spell. With a final lurch, her's overwhelmed Azul's, and the world of water changed from turquoise to deep blue. Azul looked around quickly with bewilderment, and then turned back to Maris as she began the next stage.

She stretched her arms out wide, and white lines began to spiderweb through the water. She circled her arms around each other, and the water began to whiten, and moved more sluggishly. She thrust her arms out again, and the entire liquid sea flash-froze, except for the water in her immediate vicinity. Azul was preserved in a state of surprise, locked in the act of swimming with his eyes wide open, the ice around him shivered, but did not break.

There was a faint clap as Maris brought her hands together, and on the sound all the ice shattered into deadly shards, which hovered, quivering, and then spun around to point tip first at Azul. He sighed in resignation.

Maris pointed at the serpent, and all the shards flew through the air, forming a veritable cloud of sharp blurs. Every inch of Azul's skin was sharded with blades of ice, and the icicles, some of which were over ten feet long, pierced through to his vital organs. Shredded and almost torn apart, Azul began to fall through the air, which now lacked the water Azul needed. And so as Azul fell his world dissolved, and he crashed heavily on the altar. Maris landed softly in front of him, and collapsed.

Azul opened his eyes, and croaked. "Maris, I call foul on this battle. You had the backing of Mercury." He chuckled softly. "However, I have possession of some of Sol Aurarius, which Regnoare gave to me to control all the other summons. But, it corrupted me with black power, and so I did the deeds of which I am now ashamed. Now, I die, but Sol Aurarius demands a host."

Maris heard these words vaguely. She had fallen to one knee and was gasping, clutching at her heart. It felt like her very body and soul were drained away, and the fringes of her sight began to grow dark. "I'm dying," she realized, and then struggled to stand. "No, this cannot happen. Cinaed…" She fell back to the ground.

Azul watched her sadly. "I am sorry, Princess. Goodbye," his golden eyes dimmed, and scaled eyelids closed over them. His body began to glow white, and a mural drew itself on the floor beneath him in blue-violet, that of a serpent, half curled and mouth agape. The serpent's body shrank and reconfigured, forming a simple stone tablet etched with runes. The tablet began to glow golden, and a light emerged from the top and hovered in the air. It stayed for a moment, and Maris looked at it wonderingly. Then it elongated into a comet-like shape and blasted into her heart, and she flew backwards, gasping. Power thudded in her mind, like the beating of a massive heart.

It felt like fire filled her veins, and she looked at her hands. They were changing from their normal pale peach to a deathly white, like old Suhallan papyrus. Her robe changed material, going from azure and navy to a regal ultramarine, and it enshrouded her completely, leaving only her hands and head uncovered. Gold embroidery traced itself on her shoulders and torso, and Maris let go of Leviathan as her hands grew limp. It too began to change, but before it did Maris saw her face reflected in the silvery steel.

Her face was a dead white, like a corpse's. Her hair was blackened as if it had been burnt; her cheeks were sunken, giving her a skeletal look; and her nose was practically nonexistent, just two slits in her face. Her eyes were drawn inward, and they seemed all blackness except for two pinpricks of golden light. She screamed in horror, and saw the inside of her mouth black and rotted. Fabric ravelled upward from her collar and began to shroud the horrid death mask, but Maris fell into oblivion.

Part III: The fall of Mars

Cinaed beat his powerful Volatilian wings, the massive red spells blending into the warm yellow sand of the Yampi Desert below. Cinaed basked in the rising heat from the land below, and he didn't mind the particles of sand that rose from the air like spray from a waterfall. Instead of water, sand poured like the liquid from the mountainous cliffs of Yampi, and large lumps of sand rose from the ground where the particles came up from the depths of the earth. His eyes scanned the cliff tops, and there he saw his destination: a nondescript cave, tucked innocently into the side of the mountain. A river of sand fell from its level to the desert below, and it was inaccessible by all save for full-fledged Venus Adepts, who had completed Gaia Rock and mastered Sand. "Or those that can fly," Cinaed thought wryly.

He landed before the gate of the cave, and the blackness yawned like an open mouth. The wings of Volatilis closed with the typical snick, and Cinaed walked into the shadows of the cave. He outstretched his palm and a small ball of fire appeared there, illuminating his surroundings.

The cave was dark and gloomy, and shadows were thrown into sharp contrast by Cinaed's light. They lurked in corners, dancing and playing over the walls of the cave. Rock crunched under foot as he strode through the cave, hand extended in front of him to light the way. Suddenly, he stopped short.

Before him, a great pit yawned in the floor. It stretched countless feet wide and was immeasurably deep. Hot air like from a furnace wafted from the pit, and in the dim light Cinaed could see that the other side was barred by an avalanche of rock. The Proxian craned his head over the edge and saw grooves engraved clockwise on the edges, descending downwards into the depths.

Cinaed shrugged, and coiled strength in his legs. With a forward jump, he tucked in his arms and plummeted into the abyss.

He landed with a crash on an earthen floor, throwing up dust, but remaining crouched for a moment. Then he stood, brushed the dirt off his armour, and walked on.

The cave was musty, damp with the seclusion from the ages. Dust hung in the air like a fog, and no breeze blew here. The air was humid and stagnant, and the Proxian could feel the pressure of thousands of tonnes of rock bearing down overheard, threatening to crush him with the slightest jostle. Tunnels branched off like the limbs of a spider every which way, and most of them, Cinaed discovered, led to dead ends or a cave in. One was even blocked by an immense pillar, ripped from its base by some unimaginable force. Everywhere, splinters of higher creations, architecture, lay in ruins, and he wondered who could've tolerated living in this abysmal place. "Though," he reflected, "it must have been more welcoming lit by countless torches and hung with tapestries. Songs might've someday echoed through these halls, if one could call them that."

He shook his head, and swore under his breath. This cave was a literal maze, and every tunnel seemed to simply double back on itself. Eventually though, by process of elimination, he found the right route. Back at the first room again, he tightened his weapon belt and went on.

He almost laughed when he saw what Daedalus had put in his way. The Spirit had formed a wall of boulders knocked from the ceiling that rested on shifting sand. The dragoon took several long steps back, took a deep breath, and ran forward. With unnatural dragon-like power he coiled his legs and sprung high into the air, and easily cleared the small wall, though it would have undoubtedly posed a problem to anyone else.

His blood flowing, Cinaed felt ready for anything. When a pillar of cracked rock blocked his way to the next passage, he summoned the power of Mars in his fist and hit it, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.

He entered the next room and hurried past everything, including a meagre door, eager to get to the end of the cave. Fallen pillars of azure stone blocked his way, and he simply jumped on top and leapt over them and landed running. Another pillar loomed in his way, and without stopping he leapt onto it. To his surprise, his weight carried it forward and he began a frantic effort to stay on the rolling stone. It crashed into place, restricted behind two boulders, and the sudden stop sent the Proxian flying. He skidded to a stop a good twenty feet away and looked back, as if rebuking the pillar. He brushed himself off, and descended down the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster.

Following his policy of exploring the furthest caverns first, Cinaed kept his right hand on the wall and walked beside it into it began to curve back on itself. And, right on cue, his hand dropped away as he walked in front of a stair leading deeper into the cave. The air was now almost insufferable, and he wondered how far he was beneath the surface. One hundred feet? Five hundred? One thousand? A mile?

And yet, Cinaed knew he couldn't give in. Though the air grew denser and hotter by the moment, he forged on.

He came out on a small rise, divided from the path forward by a rift in its length. A pillar was placed in the ditch, and one would have been able to hop across if it was properly aligned, but it was shoved against the wall and such was of no use. Cinaed snorted, gathered strength, and leapt the gap with ease. He landed with some vestige of daintiness, and ploughed on.

"Down the path and through the door, onward ever to the planet's core," Cinaed thought mindlessly, and suppressed a grin. Despite his inward cheeriness, the place was hotter than ever, and even the Mars Adept was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Some combination of the overwhelming presence of earth probably caused this, Cinaed decided.

He stopped for a moment, and leaned against the wall for a breather. He closed his eyes, and his mind wandered.

He pictured Maris, the gentle spirit that he had come so to love. Her innocence never ceased to entrance him, and he was filled suddenly with an overwhelming desire to protect. Her, the other Fivefold, the world. Desire turned to restlessness, and he straightened and began to walk. Then sighed in exasperation. The path he had chosen was once more barred by an immense gap, but this one was not like the other. Oh no.

This one covered over fifty feet at its largest, but thankfully towards the wall that narrowed to a bare fifteen. Yet, this path was unreachable, unless one could change course mid jump. The corner of the cave blocked the straight path between the two cliffs. A pillar stood uselessly way out in the gap, unreachable by any normal person wishing to cross.

"But," Cinaed thought with a grin as he backed up, "I'm no normal person." He gathered his strength and leapt out into the void.

He outstretched his limbs as far as they could go as he flew through the air, the wind screaming past his ears. He almost misjudged the distance and flew over the pillar, but slammed as feet down on the stone and smiled grimly as he heard the rock being torn by the sharp talons on his boots. Almost immediately, he turned to the right and bounded off into the void again, hoping to make the last twenty-five foot jump with no running start.

The edge was bare inches in front of his face when he fell, and had to endure the torture of watching safety slip by under his nose. He scrabbled for a moment on the lip of the edge, but then plummeted.

As he fell, he kicked out with everything he had. The sharp tearing claws on his gloves and boots dug for purchase into the stone, and he slid on while clawing furrows in the side. But now that he had something to brace himself on, he kicked off with his feet and pulled with his hands, flipping himself and catching the dewclaw of his armoured boots on the edge. With a mighty heave of muscle, he lifted himself up with legs alone and collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. "That was too close," he thought, eyes shut.

After a moment or two, a gust of fetid air assaulted his face, and he opened his eyes. Blearily, he saw a door yawning in front of him, and clambered to his feet. He clenched his fist, resolute. "Showtime," he thought, and entered the final room.

"It is just like Aleph's heart," Cinaed thought in wonder as he shied away from the searing heat.

It was a straight path, relatively unremarkable at first. It was narrow, hemmed in at both sides by solid rock. Then, the walls fell away into a great dome-like chamber. The path continued alone, supported by great arches of rock. It rammed right against the far side, dividing the gulf into two halves. Four unlit torches were arranged in a square on the end of the path, where it widened into a large square arena. The walls were painted red, orange, and yellow by fire, and heat waves rippled through the air. Where the path dropped away was inferno, the heart of the earth. Lava bubbled and broiled hundreds of feet below, and every so often it would erupt in a flare, and huge tongues of flame would reach up almost to the height of the path itself. Black scorch marks painted the stone, and it was filled with a noise like a volcano in the midst of its throes. And there, on the end of the path, Cinaed saw his adversary.

The massive hulk was bowed, sharing its incalculable weight between its 'arms' and legs. The thing seemed like a motile city.

Rows of slits were carved in its forehead, rising from the rest of the structure like a crown. Its torso was both body and head, as a visage made in the rough likeness of the gorilla frowned from its chest area. The eyes were hollow and empty, black sockets that just stared, devoid of purpose, and there were vertical slits where the mouth should have been. Spindly arms extended from massive shoulders, and the sticklike forearms ended in a five-fingered claw that Cinaed wouldn't want to mess with. Armour plating shielded its upper arms, and its legs were likewise skinny, though its 'feet' were wide and looked capable of crushing a building in a single step. Its colour scheme was dirty beige armour over tan, and it towered well over three hundred feet tall. It was Daedalus, craftsman of the ancient times.

For several moments, neither being moved, just stared stonily at each other as the inferno roared around them. Their bodies were struck with varying colours, from rose red to tropical orange.

Cinaed unsheathed Draconaix, tossed the massive weapon in the air and caught it. He wheeled it around and pointed the tip at the Spirit. "Daedalus. Your end is now."

Very slowly, almost dreamily, the giant Summon stood, gears and pulleys groaning. "YOU DO NOT EVEN EXIST ON THE SAME LEVEL AS I. I WOULD RECOMMEND FLEEING FOR YOUR PATHETIC LIFE." Cinaed flinched. The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, and yet it was strongest from the monster's upper chest. It seemed to echo from the beast, as if it was hollow, and it had a monotonous edge to it, speaking every word without emotion. The being clapped its mammoth hands together, and a tropical jungle replaced the flaming cave. Cinaed found himself suspended above an endless canopy of greenery, and above him was a blue, blue, sky. White birds flew in the air, circling the Spirit as if it was their roost.

Cinaed stared in disbelief as the armoured plating slid from the Summon's shoulders, exposing a honeycomb-style structure. Minute lights appeared in the holes, and before Cinaed could react, hundreds of man-sized projectiles launched outward, like a swarm of hornets. Cinaed's eyes widened in surprise before the missiles fell like a hailstorm around him.

Yet Daedalus was not finished. The entire torso piece slid from its being, showing a roughly circular hole from which a metal tip protruded, glinting malevolently in the shining Sol. With a sound like a cannon going off, this final missile launched from the Spirit's heart. A flame erupted from the projectile's rear and it fell to the earth, struggling to stay aloft. It skipped a few times on the packed ground, blowing up immense clouds of dust, and then it caught its bearings and flew screaming through the air.

Meanwhile, Cinaed jumped from tree bough to branch and back again, furiously trying to avoid the explosions caused by the missiles' impact. Fiery red explosions set off in clusters around him, superheating the air to several hundred degrees Celsius. Trees were blasted to splinters by the force, and still the projectiles came. The smaller explosions melded into one giant ball of fire, growing ever larger by the new missiles. Cinaed ducked and turned, but he began to feel the effects of fatigue, and the blasted air was beginning to take its toll on even the fire-resistant Proxian. First one, then two missiles crashed into him, punching a hole through his dragoon armour and sending him flying back several hundred feet. The gaping wounds in his armour exposed his scorched and bleeding side and left arm, and the edge of the holes were in splinters. Finally, the deadly assault let up.

Cinaed bowed his head, dragon-like eyes blazing with fury. He clenched his fist, and then heard a faint whirring sound, growing louder by the second. He looked up, and grimaced.

The missile was coming. The cylindrical projectile was screaming through the air, steel plating reflecting the light of Sol. Its point was aimed directly at Cinaed, and he could tell that something this powerful would finish him off immediately. He lowered his hands, and bowed his head.

Then, hopelessness changed to something else: determination. If he was going to die anyway, then there was no reason not to give it everything he's got, so to speak, and try his damnedest to win. He would even sacrifice himself to win this. For the Fivefold. For the world. For Maris…

The warlust of his people rose in his veins, that inborn art of war that all Proxians possessed. His blood seemed to be like a living fire, and he let out a roaring battle cry. Time seemed to slow.

His body was engulfed in a living flame, and he fell to one knee, balanced precariously on the tree branch. The fire spread to the leaves and soon, the whole tree was burning. His red-hazel eyes flashed, and changed into a predatory gold. There was a bone-crunching snap as his knees reversed direction, and he fell on all fours, his world covered in an all-consuming fire.

His skin burned away and sloughed off, but before the blood could escape his body, it fused with his armour of midnight blue with crimson tinges. The strong metal shimmered, and the plates divided and formed scales, his new skin. Talons emerged from his fingertips, long wicked and cruel. Muscles doubled, tripled, quadrupled in size as he grew, his bones enlarging with them. His skull reshaped, from the human skull to a reptilian head, golden eyes flashing in a skull shaped for destruction. Long horns erupted in a frill around his head, and he ran a long and tapered tongue around pointed and tearing teeth. His cloak flipped outwards straight up in the air and tore into two pieces down the middle, and the shoulder clasps descended and fused with his shoulder blades. The strong fabric morphed into leathery scales, from cloak to wing. His spine continued out of his body and for a moment, the pearly white bone just swung in the air, before being sheathed in powerful muscle and then impenetrable scales.

The arch in his feet rose, and his heel descended and ended in one curved claw. His toes lengthened and sprouted sharp talons, and smaller horns erupted down his back at the same time deadly ridges sprung from his spine.

His internal organs reformed, his heart multiplying in size in order to supply blood to his much-larger body. His lungs were joined by another organ, the flame sack, which enabled him to separate the hydrogen and oxygen in the air from each other and use them for firebreath, the hydrogen first igniting and then the flammable oxygen sustaining the flame. All told, from tail to snout, he passed thirty feet in length.

He opened his mouth, now a reptilian jaw, and a gout of flame emerged. Serrated teeth shone in the Solight and his tongue flicked out, smelling the air. His tail writhed restlessly, and his immense wings opened in challenge. He had become the true Proxian, Dragon.

All this happened in mere moments. Cinaed widened his eyes and stared at the missile, sneering. His heart beat with the rhythm of war.

He beat his wings downward, and again. The downdraft lifted him into the air, and flew towards the missile. The two aerials raced towards each other, and Cinaed-dragon hovered above it. With claws of steel, he gripped the missile and hauled upwards.

The missile unwillingly compiled, and the dragon flipped three hundred and sixty degrees, riding the missile back towards the Summon.

The almost-artificial creature stopped short. "WHAT? IMPOSSIBLE!"

The dragon hunched low over the missile and bared his teeth. "When there's a will, there's a way." Moments before the missile crashed into the being, Cinaed-dragon back-flipped off, and snapped his wings taut to hover. Seconds later, the missile blew a gaping hole in the being, and debris fell like rain from the sky. Fractures ran along the Summon's armour, and its arm fell off with a loud noise.

Cinaed-dragon's eyes glowed with power. He inhaled deeply and closed his jaw, whipped his head around, smoke trailing from his nostrils. Summoning the fierce power of fire, he fought connected to his lord Mars, and felt a kinship, from dragon to dragon. An unearthly cry ripped from his throat, and he shouted:

"MYRIAD INFERNO!"

The cast of the sky changed from serene blue to an angry red, and the air between the two adversaries shimmered in the heat. Cinaed felt a thrill of power rush through his veins, and he drew back his head over his shoulder. He whipped it forward and opened his jaw.

A stream of liquid fire erupted forth in all the colours of the rainbow, and crashed into Daedalus. Fire of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet washed over its surface. Spheres of flame broke off from the main blast and diffused over the whole Summon, each setting to the body and burning merrily. Meanwhile, the main stream ploughed onwards, the metal plating warping and melting by the fierce heat. Ripples formed around the blast as the flame dug further into the body, black smoke wafting into the air, greasy like oil. There was a screech as its inner workings ground to a halt. The flame disappeared into the heart of the being, and then there was silence.

It appeared to Cinaed as if everything happened in slow motion. There was a humming, growing louder and louder. The shell of Daedalus began to glow white as it superheated, and as it crested, every artificial working within failed. There was a gargantuan explosion that flung the dragon back several hundred feet on a blast of hot air, and the world faded with him, back to the abyss at the heart of Yampi. Shards of metal flew in every direction as the body of Daedalus exploded.

Cinaed heard a faint death cry in his mind, and then all that was before him was a simple tablet, engraved with runes. He breathed a sigh through his draconic teeth, and landed softly.

Something touched his mind. Something wild, golden and yet corrupted. Cinaed fought it off, and yet some part of his being craved it. He willed the dragon-form to revert, though he might die from the drain of being in dragon form. In fact, the likelihood of his survival decreased with every moment in this heightened state. The battlelust began to leave his blood, and he closed his eyes and waited for the dragon with retreat.

Something stopped him. The immovable will, the relentless force. A blast of golden light erupted in front of him, seeming to be behind his eyes, in his mind. Instead of halting the morph to human, it reversed it, transforming him into something greater, more terrible.

His face mutated and changed, going from reptilian dragon to something vaguely humanoid. The dragon horns melded and fused, transforming into the curved horns of a ram, or a demon. A wild mane of burgundy hair sprouted all around his neck, and his face contorted into something that was almost lion-like.. The graceful blue-red wings of the dragon morphed into the midnight blue leather wings of a demon. From the waist up, his scales transformed into leathery skin that was deceptively pink, and below the waist something completely different changed.

His legs formed into those of a goat, with black fur and large hooves like burnished brass, his tail forming into that of a lion, with black fur and a large tuft on the end. Iron bands shackled his wrists, forming a sign of bondage, and Draconaix also began to change. The glorious halberd of Mars reconfigured into a warhammer with a head of pure gold. His spine cracked as the transformation neared its completion, cursing him to exist in a hunched over state.

Power like fire rushed through his veins and overwhelmed his mind, smothering Cinaed in oblivion.

Part IV: The fall of Jupiter

Shamira flew over the tropical island of Islet, or so it was informally called. The roiling mass of fog to the northwest disturbed her a bit, but she said nothing. She had heard from Hydros his efforts to keep out the Seal of Alchemy, and she admired his efforts. She dipped lower, skimming the treetops of the island.

"It would be a nice place to live," Shamira reflected. The lush tropical forest masked most of the island's surface, including the simple dwellings that the few inhabitants lived in, seeking solitude from the rest of the world. An inland lake flowered in the centre, its blue waters sparkling in the noonday Sol. The beach was of a soft white sand, and palm trees lined the shore. The houses were built a few feet off the ground to allow for air circulation, cooling them in the blistering summer days.

Shamira lifted her head up, and looked to the southern side of the island. She shook her head sadly. There was a trail nearly fifty feet wide, blasted and ruined. The serene surface of the lake accommodated shards of greenery, as well as the occasional corpse of some animal unlucky enough to get in the way.

The trail ended at an island in the middle of the lake, and Shamira spiralled down to it in ever-smaller circles before landing gracefully at the cavern mouth. Two large ferns trees flanked the mouth, and three stones arranged in a triangle on the top of the rise marked it as an once-dwelt cave. Shamira unsheathed Skyshard, and entered.

A thick fog hovered through the cave, and her feet kicked up swaths of white smoke as she walked through. The walls were a faint yellow in colour, and stalagmites and stalactites rose from the ground and fell from the ceiling, giving the impression of a toothy maw. Shamira weaved her way through the mess of spines, wondering how the Summon could have passed through here without breaking these. She began to wonder if he even entered here at all… Pushing away her doubts, Shamira went on, and descended down a staircase.

Here, she saw her first sign of destruction. Four golden pillars had been erected in a quartet, but one of them was obliterated down to half the size. In the centre of the four, the ground was ripped up as if by some abominable force, the solid rock torn like it was cloth. Keeping a wary eye on the gaping hole, Shamira trekked on.

The path broadened out into a proper cave, and another quartet of pillars rose in front of her, a glittering undersea lake of sapphire waters behind them. This time, however, the two nearest pillars were destroyed down to mere stumps, and one of the two remaining had lost its head. On the far side of the lake, Shamira saw a shadow on the wall that probably was another door, and so she stepped to the brink of the water, listening to the calm sound of the water sloshing gently on the edge. She cast Volatilis and sprung into flight.

Double rows of stone rose from the deep as if checking her passage, and she appreciated the guidance. Her violet hair streamed back as she beat psynergy wings of the same colour, the water rippling from her passage. In a short time, she reached the other side, noting once more twin pillars, one of them struck down to half the size. Tightening her grip on her rapier, she ducked through the cave.

She blinked twice, surprised at the sudden change of scenery. The floor was now tiled with a beautiful design, a maroon streak straight down the centre flanked by rows of dark blue, and the walls and ceiling were a faint green, almost sublime. Pillars of marble lined the sides, with marble railings guarding the drop that the pillars were placed in. Staircases wound along the sides of the walls, though they seemed to led to nowhere, climbing into empty ceilings. Great cave-ins poured yellow stone across the path, but despite all the ruin Shamira could tell it must once have been scenic, beautiful even. It still was.

The Anemosian paced down the passage, walking hastily. The occasional monster that leapt out fell to her blade in mere seconds, and after that they stayed away.

She came to the end of the passage, a simple door with a knob and a barred window near the top. Steeling herself, Shamira placed her hand on the knob and turned it, pushing the door open with a creak.

Shamira almost fell on her face with exasperation. The next passage was exactly the same, and she had to step back through the door to make sure she wasn't mistaken. With a sigh, she walked through.

Time passed, and she lost track of how many hallways she walked through, Four? Five? Six? She glazed over mentally as the halls went on and on. She just put one foot in front of the other, to walk this through to the end.

"Finally," Shamira thought as she stepped into the final chamber. She stretched and heard her bones crack, and did some exercises to loosen her cramped muscles. She tilted her head to one side, then the other. She cracked her knuckles, and surveyed the room.

It was dark, dimly lit despite four torches burning bright in front of her. The floor retained the pattern from before, but this time the maroon stripe was much wider, as were the two blue ones flanking it. The air was musty, as if it hadn't been disturbed in many a year, yet the power crackling through the air was palpable.

As Shamira walked down the centre of the path, she realized what this was: a throne room. The maroon strip was equal to the red carpet, and now she was ascending the stairs before the throne. Steeling herself, she topped the last stair.

There, in the middle of six torches burning with yellow flames, there was indeed a throne. Made from solid gold and inlaid with rubies and amethyst, it was truly a sight to behold. Yet the figure on that throne seemed to mock it, royalty with monstrosity.

Blood red horns rose from a bull helmet with a t-shaped gap to see through, and red eyes burned in the blackness within. The torso of his armour was strong, a steel blue with large shoulder guards of a triangular shape, black with ornate lines of silver. From an insectile waist sprung a lower body composed only of flaring armour in the design of a ghostly visage. Midnight blue flowed with marine, and twin red stones shone like eyes on his thighs. Inside of the armour, however, there was nothing. The lower half was open in the front, so one could see through to the underside of the back armour, and jagged edges gave the impression of teeth.

Iron chains trailed from his back and slithered over the ground, clinking together hauntingly every now and then. A veritable arsenal of weapons was fastened to his back, including halberd, spear, broadsword, war axe, and flamberge.

A shield of pure gold was held in his right hand, carved in the likeness of a fierce dragon. His left hand was mailed in black armour and held a titanic blade over a hundred feet long, the pommel a giant golden spike, and the handle was wrapped in fabric of royal violet. The hilt was a gold crosspiece with a single eye on the centre, and the immense blade itself was as white as ivory, double-edged with slits carved in the centre so the blood can flow easily.

His wings, though, struck Shamira the most. A hooked claw capped a giant plume of white feathers on the crest, and the feathers veined out into the rest of the wing. It was interspersed with leathery fabric, of colours ranging from sun gold to volcanic red. Beyond the plume and warm colours, the largest part of the wing was a deep indigo and leathery like a bat's or demon's. Powerful veins pulsed through it, and the torchlight shone through it, casting a malevolent aura over the Spirit. And rightly so: he was Catastrophe, the embodiment of destruction.

Shamira shifted into a fighting position, and faced the Spirit. "Spirit! You're reign ends here!"

Catastrophe said nothing, just stood in silence, his chains rustling like the herald of a ghost ship borne on wrecking waves. Shamira stood awkwardly, and didn't even notice reality change.

The chamber faded away into a blood-red world. A green forest covered the majority of the ground, and though mountains encircled the realm the trees climbed up most of their foothills. A small plain of yellow grass was located in the corner, though it seemed insignificant compared to the massive forest. The sky was a deep black, ominous red clouds obscuring any celestial bodies, and purple lightning jumped between the mists. Catastrophe floated in the sky, silent and brooding.

Shamira hovered in front of the demon, the ant to the giant. One of his crimson horns was larger than her entire body. She craned her head up to look him in the eyes, and then used her Volatilian wings to fly up to eye level. "May the best swordsman win," Shamira said challengingly. The Spirit said nothing, but levelled his shield at her. She blinked, and then the shield began to glow red.

"Oh." The brightness crested and a great ball of fire launched forth, almost twenty feet in diameter. Shamira cancelled her Psynergy wings and plunged to the ground like a rock. The fireball passed just overhead, and she smelled the stench of burnt hair. She reactivated Volatilis and stopped her descent, finding herself facing the pearly broadsword.

Armour creaked as Catastrophe moved his arm, and the giant sword swung towards the Anemosian. She let out a yell of surprise and ducked to the side, the sharp edge missing her by a hair's breadth. In a flash, the blade wheeled around and blazed back towards her. She yelped and dodged, and soon she was surrounding by a storm of sharp edges. She caught and glimpse of Catastrophe above, calmly staring down as he wielded his weapon with unbelievable speed for its size.

A smile slowly spread across Shamira's features as she got an idea. The next time the blade swung around, she spun and landed nimbly on the flat side of it, and took off running up the length of it. Catastrophe remained silent, but twisted the sword in his hand, first one way then the other. Shamira had to struggle to stay on, and grabbed the edge with her fingers. "Ow!" She yelped, and examined her fingers. The blade had sliced clean through her armour, and blood welled up through the gap. She was lucky not to lose her fingers. She steadied herself, and turned to face the Spirit. She raised her arms, and yelled, "Violet Storm!", letting loose a barrage of violet bolts that emerged and hurtled towards the Summon, drawing power from the electricity in the air. It gathered together and formed a sphere of lightning, and rushed towards the head of the demon.

Catastrophe merely stared, and lifted his shield to absorb the attack, and when the violet ball of lightning hit it was drawn into the depths of the shield, and the dragon-like visage glowed. The horde of weapons levitated from his back, and danced for a moment in the air like some maniac carnival. Shamira stared, fascinated: it was eerie to see those unliving things weave and move through the air, but wonder turned to alertness as the blades suddenly stopped, and pointed at the Jupiter Adept. All at once, they rushed towards her, and she found she had her hands full.

She used Skyshard to fend off the assaults the best she could, the much-nimbler rapier able to block multiple weapons in a second. But she was losing ground, and the unnaturally sharp edges scored multiple hits across her arms and legs when she used them to defend herself. As if by some unheard command, the weapons suddenly attack in concert. She held Skyshard horizontally and blocked, but the force of the blow sent her careening downward.

As she plunged, she saw the dark figure of Catastrophe steadily dwindling in the distance. Supposing she was out of range, she gathered the power of the wind in her palm and formed what looked like a cloud in her hand, but the wind blew like swords within. She brought it back and threw it at the Spirit with a cry of, "Razor Wind!" The cloud dissolved into the air, transforming the around it into a razor-shape gust. The gale blew over Catastrophe, and scratches appeared over his body that would have torn apart a lesser being. He only flinched, however, and raised his sword. With blinding speed, he dived down towards the falling Shamira, weapon ready for a fatal blow.

The Anemosian crashed into the Psynergetic soil with a loud crash, forming a small crater and throwing up a cloud of dust. It felt like every bone in her body was shattered, and she groaned. The dust flying in the air stung her eyes, and she weakly waved her hand and blew it away with Psynergy. And immediately wished she hadn't.

Smiling like a devil, Catastrophe was bearing down on her, blade first. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable blow to come.

Shamira gasped as the blade stuck into her stomach, impaling her to the ground like a bug on a pin. Fortunately, only the very tip of the blade impaled her, but that was enough to create a one-foot wound, sever her spine, and damage her internal organs. She stared along the length of the blade at Catastrophe, hating him as her blood began to well up around the wound. Her vision blurred as she thought how Orior would feel in a world without her. "I'm sorry, Orior,' she thought, and gathered all her power for a last ditch effort.

She summoned all the electricity in the air and the lightning contained in the sword, feeling a kinship with Jupiter. Lightning crackled around her as she crafted her spell:

"Thunderbane!"

Bolts of lightning in shades of gold and violet crackled around Catastrophe's sword, stray bolts occasionally flying out like limbs. The ball danced over Catastrophe's blade, and the metal dissolved into nothingness. Catastrophe seemed to frown as he looked at the empty hilt of his weapon.

Shamira smiled cruelly, her face livid by the electrical light of her attack. "Confused? My attack takes all electricity from the surrounding area, and that includes the ionic bonds that hold molecules together," it didn't bother her that there was no way she could have known this, it just came to her. "Your sword is now just puny particles laying on the ground." She winced and climbed up from the ground, clutching the gaping wound in her stomach, holding back the flow of blood. "Now… go back to the realm of spirits." She raised her hand, and the spinning ball of lightning raced up to Catastrophe.

His ball-of-fire eyes widened as the energy struck him, conducting over his metal armour and arching over his body. He screamed silently as his body first began to char, and then break apart. His head was the last part to go, looking up at the sky as he broke away into nothingness. There was a flash of golden light as the accursed world of Catastrophe faded away, and Shamira saw a stone tablet shining innocently before her. She was back in the halls of Islet.

She collapsed on one knee, gasping and clutching her wound. Then, a golden light surrounded her and brought her to her feet. Power beyond her comprehension flooded her, and her body began to change.

Her Imilian armour that she had worn for the majority of her quest now grew with her body as the strange power corrupted her. The dents, dirt, and the gaping hole all disappeared from the armour, and it shone as if newly forged. It stayed close fitting and accented her feminine form, even though muscles she hadn't even known about began to strengthen, and she doubled over, gasping. Her bones, muscles, everything, seemed to be thickening. Her seldom-worn helmet appeared on her head and enclosed it, leaving her eyes blinking through the t-bar opening. Skyshard began to change, going from its rough bolt-shape to a straight rapier like a cloud, with an azure hilt and pearly white blade that ran straight forward.

New knowledge formed in her mind, and she realized with a shock that the incantations for Mercury and Mars Psynergy were being written in her mind, like Searing Beam and Freeze Prism. It felt strange to be there, but it her heightened state it seemed to be expected. She caught a glimpse of herself in the polished stone of the wall, and did a double take. She could have been mistaken for a male warrior, huge muscles sheathed in azure armour, and amber eyes peered from the darkness inside her helm.

She took a step forward, and suddenly a foreign force overwhelmed her mind. "No!" She yelled, and her voice was much deeper, strange to her own ears. The golden force obliterated her mind, and she sank into oblivion.

Part V: The fall of Venus

Orior glided beside the huge crater where Anemos had once been, his mind elsewhere. The sun-gold wings of Volatilis, streaked with forest green, disappeared as he landed softly on the ground, stirring up a small poof of dust. He looked towards the few buildings from the pillar that had fallen from Anemos, that long ago day when Zelexseon attacked. Or, it seemed like a long time, though it wasn't really.

To his surprise, a group of excited Jupiter Adepts ran out to meet him, obviously anxious. He strode to them, bowing as he walked. "Jupitarians!" He called. "Why aren't you with the rest of Anemos?"

A man stepped out, dirty blond hair stirred in the wind. "We are to guard Jupiter Lighthouse until the time that it is to be lit, as well as determine the most suitable time for our city to return."

Orior nodded. "I see. I come here for a reason, good Adepts." They waited patiently for him to go on. "I am seeking Charon and Iris."

The man nodded as if expecting this. "We thought as much. They have sought refuge in Anemos Sanctum, our sacred place where we will not lightly tread."

Orior spread his arms. "I must."

"Venusian," he said, an edge creeping into his voice, "it is forbidden for you, an opposing element, to enter our sacred temple."

"You would rather have those two Spirits defile it?"

"They have sanctuary," the man insisted.

Orior drew his blade, and the man stepped back. "I will seek after them," he vowed, "even if it means destroying your traditions."

The man sneered. "Foolish Venusian, headstrong as always. We will prevent you from violating our sanctum, even if it means our lives." The man sounded confident, but when Orior looked over the gaggle of people behind him, some looked unconvinced.

Orior laughed and held the blade out, tip pointing at the man's heart. "I'd like to see you stop me," he sneered. Still keeping his blade levelled at the man, he stepped backwards and leapt into the air on Psynergy wings. "I'll remember you when I return victorious." Without another word, he tuned and broke through the Sanctum doors with a crash.

He raced through the hallway, hoping he wasn't too late to catch the two Summons. He wheeled through the twists and turns, and ran down a long corridor. He saw the door to the Inner Sanctum was open, and he gritted his teeth. He burst through like a freight train, and two figures whirled around as he entered.

"Go on, Iris," Charon said softly, in a voice that dripped honey yet was twisted by malice. "I'll hold him off here. Stay safe."

Iris quickly ran forward and embraced him. "Thank you, Charon," she whispered. She turned and ran down the door into the heart of the sanctum. "Be careful!" She called back, and then they heard no more.

Charon remained facing the way she had gone as Orior advanced, blade drawn. A got within ten feet of the Summon before Charon moved. He slowly turned around to face his pursuer, and as he did so the world changed.

Shamira would have recognized this realm, as it was an exact duplicate of Catastrophe's. To all effects and appearances it was a normal world, except everything was tinged a faint blood red. Orior found himself floating hundreds of feet above the ground, and by reflex cast Volatilis. Charon hovered in front of him.

The boatsman of the river Styx wore a simple hooded cloak that seemed to hung off a skeletal frame. It was red in colour, with yellow bands around the edge of his sleeves and hood. Long, skeletal fingers emerged from the sleeves, and from the shadow of his hood emerged the lower half of a bone-white skull, teeth grinning the ever-insane skeleton grin, and nose slits like two cuts. Wing of black-purple energy beat softly from his back, the edges pulsing with power as they rippled on the air. It first spiked up, then swooped down into a double arch on the bottom. He seemed frail, but Orior could tell that he held a great power of Luna.

"Welcome to my nightmare," Charon said, in a voice oozing malice. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Enough!" Orior shouted. "I have no time for foul swine like you. Surrender!"

The being laughed cruelly. "Submit? I think not." His skeletal teeth clashed together as he spoke, and Orior couldn't help but wonder how he spoke without any normal organs.

"Then… we must fight." Orior said resolutely, and readied his blade.

"You think?" Charon sneered. "Permit me to strike the first blow. Soul Collide." He muttered, and raised one skeletal hand. Orior felt a tug on his heart, and dropped a few feet in the air, gasping. Black spheres of life force flew towards Charon and joined with his dark aura. "Pathetic," the Spirit taunted. "One spell and you're all worn out," he said with false sympathy.

Orior gritted his teeth and lunged at the skeleton, sword flashing. "Those who live by the sword," Charon said, and held out his hand. A scythe made of what appeared to be human bone, razor sharp, appeared in a flash of black light. "Die by the sword," he finished, and engaged in combat with Orior.

The Venus Adept lunged forward with Auraleo, seeking an opening. Charon simply laughed and pulled back, swiping with the scythe diagonally and hauling Orior's blade out of the way. He flipped the scythe and struck out with the pointed pommel, trying to brain Orior. The Venus Adept saw it and ducked, so the scythe passed harmlessly overheard. He flipped around and slashed with his blade at Charon's exposed arm, and heard the satisfying sound of metal crunching into bone. Charon growled, and Orior turned to see the being's other hand outstretched in front of his face. Black particles gathered from the air around it and formed a glowing midnight purple ball in his hand. It grew in size and then spun outwards toward Orior, drawing bolts of black lightning behind it. Orior threw up a psynergy shield at the last moment, but the attack still ploughed into him, knocking him backwards several hundred feet and wrenching Auraleo from Charon's arm.

Orior winced, his sprit feeling drained. Nonetheless, he forced himself to raise a hand and muttered an incantation. "Odyssey!" He glowed with a green aura, and two glowing Psynergy swords appeared from the air and impaled Charon into the fabric of reality. Orior flew forward, sword first, and the shadow of a giant blade fifty feet long formed around him. He rammed into Charon, and through to the other side, feeling sick like his skin had just been coated in oil. He sighed with relief, but his blood ran cold when he heard laughing.

He slowly turned around, and Charon was there, laughing. The gaping hole through his chest was covered in glowing darkness, and seconds later when that strange aura withdrew, his skeletal body was as good as new, though the hole in the cloak remained as evidence of the wound that would have been mortal to anything else. Orior saw skeleton ribs through the hole, encasing a glowing darkness.

"Fool!" Charon said triumphantly. He raised one skeletal finger and traced an insignia in the air, and wherever it passed a glowing crimson line was drawn. The insignia completed, it looked like a six-pointed star encircling a complex rune. A whirlpool with a single sphere of darkness on its heart appeared around the rune, and began shrinking. When it became invisible to the naked eye, white shockwaves appeared and closed in on the speck. There was a pause, then a sphere of black-violet energy launched forth at the Lilyveran. It grew exponentially by the second, and Orior was swallowed by its insatiable hunger.

All the Venus Adept could see was blackness. Dark energy roiled like fog in the substance, and Orior could feel it coating his entire body through. It felt… bad, like swamp rot or oil. It seethed around him, seeping into his bloodstream and afflicting it. His heart beat faster, trying to siphon enough oxygen to stay alive. "Air!" Orior screamed mentally, trying to draw anything from the dross around him. There was not only a lack of air, but also the effect of the very attack itself. It sucked away at his soul, taking all his energy, and at the same time filling his mind with dark thoughts, and forcing him to relive every negative thing in his life. From Regnoare's attack on Vale, seeing the destruction of countless cities, to seeing Shamira fall, unconscious and lacking an arm after her battle with Zelexseon. His skin was blackening, rotting before his very eyes: there was something corrosive in this magic that turned everything to death, ferrying them across the border from the land of the living.

As the four elements of his being were invaded by darkness, the only thing Orior had left was his will. His will to remain alive, to fulfill his duty, and to return to Shamira. To beat back the darkness, and restore peace and tranquility to Weyard. "And you, Charon," Orior spat through gritted teeth. "Are not going to stop me." He raised Auraleo, and vowed to win.

Slowly at first, so gently he didn't even notice, the handle of the blade began to glow. Or, more accurately, the amethyst runes engraved there. The light grew and fought back at the darkness, and Orior felt the crackling power of Jupiter reach him, unfamiliar so that he initially shied away from it, but then embraced it as his only hope. The runes blossomed into colour, and he held the sword horizontally, holding the blade gently with his other hand. "Formina Sage!" He cried, and violet lightning began to trace along the edge of the blade, paper-thin at first. They extended beyond the end of the blade and plunged into the darkness, all the while the bolts thickening, taking on a white cast.

Charon stared in amazement as a brilliant shaft of light lanced from the sphere of shadow, a sword-like beam formed entirely of crackling bolts of violet and white. It hovered for a moment and then slashed quickly around the whole sphere, forming a circle. There was a pause, then the two halves split apart like an egg, and in the middle of the shower of liquid darkness Orior appeared, breathing heavily and his eyes glowing violet. And by the second, the blade of energy that emerged from his sword grew thicker, stronger.

"Die." Orior said, in a voice set with determination. He wheeled the giant energy blade around and sliced horizontally, ripping the Spirit in twain. Charon looked surprised, but concentrated and webs of black energy began to weave the two halves together. But Orior came around for a second assault, and the dark energy shied away from the sword of light. He twisted his wrist and changed direction, slicing diagonally up and through Charon's shoulder. Once again, the webs of shadow sought to weave the pieces together, but Orior rained down a fury of slashes on the Summon. The light glow of his blade pushed back the darkness, preventing the Spirit from regenerating. Charon looked up, seeming to feel no pain at all. His hood fell back, revealing a skull with empty sockets. Time seemed to slow as Orior drew back his blade over his shoulder, the crackling energy reaching unprecedented width and strength. He lashed out with his sword in a deadly stab. The brilliant weapon impaled through Charon's skull, and there was a flash of golden light as the boatsman's body suddenly broke into multiple pieces.

Orior found himself back in the Sanctum, and before him a stone slate stood silently on the floor before him. A fog of darkness burst forth for a moment and sank into the stones, and a mural of black-violet stone appeared on the floor: a skeleton, wrapped in the fetal position. He turned and looked back down the way he came, on engraven pillars of bronze, and serpentine dragon statures carved of marble. He looked down silently on the still Sanctum, and then turned to Charon's tablet. He drew Auraleo and set the tip into the stone.

With careful chips, he chiselled out a message to all who saw it, and could almost sense the disembodied Charon's anger. When he finished, he stepped back and brushed the shavings from the stony surface, then admired his handiwork.

"We inherited the power of the land to create a great darkness. If you crave this power, attack this slate!"

"Pity the power of the land turned on us," he thought with a look at Charon, and then walked into the Sanctum.

He took two steps and then realized how wounded he was. Shadows rose from his skin in ghostly vapours, and his body and soul felt near to death. An overwhelming force blasted into his mind, threatening to drive him into oblivion, and he fell onto the floor. In a supreme act of will, he pushed back the onslaught, screaming. "No! My quest is not complete! Iris still must be defeated! I will not submit to anyone, anything!" He seemed to struggle with an unseen force, writhing as he fought to stand. He let out a primal yell, and threw out his arms. "I will not!" He drove it away, feeling the support of another. Shamira? Charon? Venus herself? A calm serenity descended over him, but he felt that strange energy hovering just beyond reach, and its power pulsed in the back of his head like the beating of a human heart.

"I must go on…" he whispered to himself, and stepped forward, bowed as if under a great weight. Step by staggering step, trailing shadows behind him, he made his way through Anemos Sanctum. Walls, doors, paths… all were a blur in light of his dark affliction and that obscene force that lurked, lurked. Doors meant to be opened by solving puzzles he burst to pieces with a blast of energy, and kept on going. He dispatched monsters he forgot about seconds later, and his eyes glazed over as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and shambled like a zombie through the Anemosian halls.

The next thing he knew, he was standing on a platform, with the insignia of the Anemosian eagle emblazoned on top, glowing violet. As if in a dream, he drew Auraleo and spun it so it pointed tip down. He stabbed the eagle in its glowing heart, splitting stone, and there was an outpouring of violet energy. He wrenched it to the side, and the platform rose from the ground, then flew forward, hurtling across a dark abyss towards its destination. Orior closed his eyes, hoping this torture would someday end.

He felt a faint light on his eyelids, and opened his eyes. The platform had stopped on some forlorn corner of the Sanctum. He was standing beside a drop into some dark abyss, and beside him were two tall carven pillars of stone, Anemosian characters etched on them. But that was not the source of the light.

A beautiful woman sat on her knees in front of him, looking at him with genuine concern in her warm eyes. A faint golden aura surrounded her, and even though she was crouched she still looked him in the eyes, showing her height. She placed a caring hand on Orior's shoulder, and looked into his eyes. "Yes," she breathed softly, in a voice as melodious as a soft summer rain. "Charon's darkness is in you, eating away at your soul. And yet, that is not the greatest danger." She seemed troubled. "For a mere mortal to bear that terrible burden…" she said sadly, and shook her head.

Orior struggled to speak, trying to find his voice. "What… burden?" He croaked.

"Sol Aurarius."

As if the words awakened the force, now identified as Sol Aurarius, it invaded his mind once again. He writhed on the floor, gritting his teeth, and then felt a slender hand on his head. With an inhuman scream, the force retreated to the depths of his mind, and Orior looked up into the kind eyes of Iris, goddess of rainbows and guide of souls. She held out a hand, and he took it gratefully. She helped him to his feet, and Orior saw her clearly for the first time.

She wore an ornamental headdress, pink in colour, and a plum-coloured cap with two pointed tips. She wore a frilly tunic-like dress of dark violet that stopped at her upper thighs, then a pink coat over it that fastened with a gold clasp at the neck. It had multiple layers on her shoulder, all with lace, and a magenta dress that covered her left leg with a frilly white skirt under it. On her right side, she wore a violet dress under a golden sash, and bracelets made of precious metals around her wrists. Everywhere, ribbons trailed form her clothing: headdress, top, and skirt. A lavender ribbon was wrapped loosely around her bare legs, and there was a faint scent of, appropriately enough, irises.

She peered into his eyes. "Orior? How do you feel?"

The Venus Adept grimaced. "Let's see… infected by pure Luna power and Sol Aurarius threatening to drive me insane. You, I don't think I'm healthy," he said bitterly.

Iris put her hands on her hips. "My, aren't we touchy?"

Orior stalked away a few steps and then turned. "Why are you being so kind? You're a Spirit, you destroyed my hometown. You, with Charon, terrorized hundreds across the land. Not only that, you sought sanctuary with the Anemosians, after obliterating my city! You're a menace, and I'm here to stop you!"

She looked hurt. "Orior, you've felt the madness that Sol Aurarius brings. What makes you think I'm exempt?"

Orior looked blank. "What?"

"Regnoare imbued the strongest Spirits with part of Sol Aurarius, bringing them to madness. Indirectly, the other Spirits felt our curse, as we have… how can I put this? A connection."

Orior snorted. "You don't seem to be struggling now."

"Honestly," Iris said, shaking her head. "I learned to hold it at bay, but I don't know how long I can hold it off."

The Lilyveran cocked his head sideways. "You know what that means, don't you?"

Iris sighed and hung her head. "Yes. I cannot remain in this limbo between madness and freedom forever. And you," she said, poking him lightly in the chest, "are going to be the one to get me out of it." She grinned in a none-too-friendly way.

"How?" Orior asked hesitantly.

She smiled. "Can you guess?" She waved her arm, and the chamber faded into a black sky, with a blazing sphere of fire towering beside them. The rest of the realm was occupied by something that looked almost like the night sky. Orior spun lazily in the space, taking in his surroundings. The blazing sphere was of yellow-white fire that seemed semi-liquid, and it hurt his eyes to look at it. He turned away and surveyed the rest of the realm.

It was like a black tapestry, dotted with specks of diamond. There were colourful ethereal clouds, nebulas; Aquarius, Ursa Major, Leo, and many other constellations. There was a bright sphere in the distance, and it glinted with a blue aura, though its surface was dusty and dead. Mercury.

Iris noticed where he was looking, and smiled. "Looks can be deceiving. Behold, the true Mercury." She cast a variation of Reveal, called Truesight: instead of Revealing the unseen, it allows the caster and their allies to see past the illusion and into the unseen. A violet shade fell over his eyes, and Orior gasped.

The once-dead sphere of Mercury now glowed with a blue. Waves danced on the planet, and Orior saw the water was many miles deep.

Iris smiled, and pointed downwards. There, on the ground far, far below them, thousands of miles, the Venusian could see a peaceful land of green and blue, surrounding by an infinite ocean of blue. "Behold," Iris said, and Orior detected the pride in her voice. "Weyard."

Solion wheeled on her. "That means we are… in space?"

"Yes and no. This is a spiritual version of the sky above Weyard, created by my magic. If we really were here," she waved her hand at the great orb of fire, "Sol here would burn you to a crisp."

"Sol?" Orior said, shocked, and turned to look at the great sphere. It encompassed almost as far as he could see, and burned with glory and fire.

Iris seemed almost sad. "This will be our battlefield, Orior. Sol Aurarius' hold on you is much weaker here, as well as Charon's poison. I shall let you strike the first blow," she sat back, and folded her arms.

"I cannot lose," Orior thought, and began chanting an incantation to Venus, and felt power flood him. A sacred bond with Venus, the power of Earth incarnate.

"Terra Force!"

Vines appeared from the space around them and wreathed into each other, forming a spiral of woven greenery. It shrunk into his palm, forming a glowing ball of green energy, soon joined by spinning rocks that appeared and merged with the ball, giving it a fifty-fifty colouring of green and brown.

A brilliant speck glinted in the distance, and as an amber stream of energy screamed into his hands, Orior realized it must have come from Venus. It swelled the sphere to an immense size, and Orior felt his hands spread to accommodate it. It crested in size at about fifty feet in diameter, and he brought it over is head, and the size difference between spell and caster was almost comical. It was now a deep golden colour, laced with veins of brighter amber and let off small flares of energy. Orior, his face bathed in the glow of the giant sphere, grunted as he flung his hands forward, and heaved the immense spell at Iris.

Her eyes widened as the massive ball of energy hurtled towards her, and she threw up her arms. "Solscreen!" She cast, and from the immense Sol behind her, two flares emerged and met in front of her, forming a flaming screen of holy fire. The earth-incarnate spell crashed into the barrier with a flare of light, and Orior dimly saw Iris behind the shield, struggling to hold her barrier. The sphere shrunk as it tried to force its way through, and eventually fizzled out.

Iris sighed, and dropped the barrier, only to raise one arm suddenly. Weaving a complex rune, she clenched her first and a holy white light appeared. "Sacred Ray!" The white light concentrated, and the rune blazed. A pure white light lanced forth at Orior, and his eyes widened as he saw it approaching. He flipped to the side and the beam swept past him, searing his shirtsleeve into non-existence with a cleansing beam.

Orior sagged with despair. His strongest attack, maybe even the strongest Venus attack, had come to nothing. He wondered what he could do now, then realized something.

Iris seemed to be of Sol, with an opposing element of Luna. But he didn't know any Luna attacks… but he had the darkness that infected his soul. Iris said it was ineffective here, but he wondered if that was really true. He looked inward, seeking.

Like a ember in the darkest corner of his heart, he found the shadows and shattered his will, feeling the darkness flood his being. As Iris watched with amazement, a black aura surrounded Orior. His eyes glowed black-violet, and his skin turned as black as night, making his golden hair seem eerily out of place.

"Summon boatsman of the river Styx, Charon!"

Deep in Charon's realm, a seal appeared on the blood-red forest. Circles of energy like halos hovered over it, and as energy gathered a sphere of darkness formed. Like the breaking of a eggshell, it shattered into countless pieces and Charon appeared, perfectly healthy. He didn't seem surprised to see Iris, visible as she was through the semi-permeable barrier between his realm and her's. He shook his hooded head, and cast the same spell as he used on Orior: he raised his skeletal claw and carved the rune.

As Charon cast the Luna spell, Orior heard his voice in his mind: "Consider this repayment for inflicting cursed darkness on you, as well as a reward for defeating me. Iris!" He said, shouting to his fellow Spirit. "Being the kind and loving soul I am, I shall help you escape the entrapments of Sol Aurarius."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Iris said cautiously.

Charon smiled maliciously. "I know." He brought up his other hand and etched a second rune around the first. As the black sphere of Luna formed, the second rune glowed and jagged violet and crimson fire sprang up from the surface of the orb. The spell cast forth, brimming with vorpal energy. It passed through planes of reality and into Iris' world, the Luna sphere screaming towards space towards her. She seemed resigned to her fate, and the vorpal sphere blasted into her.

The black shell surrounded her, and red and violet energy flashed like lightning around it. Iris' Sol spirit struggled against the deadly Psynergy, the darkness, despite the nearness of Sol, quenched her spirit and shut down her heart. But before she was felled she raised her hand. "Solar Flare!" Sol behind her flashed and a brilliant white flare, like a curved sword, erupted forth and hurtled towards Orior.

His eyes widened as he saw it coming, but could do nothing as it slashed through his neck, decapitating him and sending him to oblivion.

Part VI: The End of an Era and the Passing of the Void

Aleos watched the other Fivefold fly beyond the reaches of his sight, and sighed. "Come out, Regnoare. I know you're here… show yourself, and we'll settle this once and for all."

"Come up here, mortal!" A malicious voice spoke in his mind, and Aleos looked up. There, set against the blue sky, a black speck hovered, and even from the distance between them Aleos could sense the shadows in its aura. There's only one man it could be: Regnoare.

With a hiss of triumph, Aleos cast Volatilis and sprung into the air on starlight silver wings. The world of Weyard fell away below as Aleos flew up and up, surpassing even the height of Mount Aleph. There, far above the surface of Weyard, above even the clouds on a landscape of cottony clouds, Aleos met his greatest enemy, Regnoare.

The necromancer beat his leathery wings slowly, smiling cruelly with his arms folded. His wild mass of black hair was streaked with a deep silver in a mockery of Aleos and his ancestry, and two Wonder Bird fathers were fastened behind his ears, the sky blue colour melding with the ebony of his hair. His crimson eyes were flecked with streaks of black, and his complexion was as pale as death.

He wore armour of onyx that covered his chest and sides, sweeping from his pectoral muscles to under his arms, and on to his back where it shielded everything, except for twin slits for his wings to emerge from. It was plated in multiple layers, and it was barbed like a shark's skin. Two ivory spikes rose from his shoulder guards, each half a foot in length and curved slightly.

From underneath the front of his armour, where it ended mid-torso in a crescent shape, fell a black robe of demon skin, tough and resilient against blade and magic alike. It was fastened at his waist with a belt of bone and fastened by a crimson clasp in the likeness of twin fangs. The robe continued past his waist, to mid-thigh in the front and calf-length on the sides and back. Beneath that, he wore chain-mail leggings, and heavy bolts of deep black steel with pointed toes, and that curved up to cup his knee.

He wore dark-looking gauntlets with long talons, and plated armour connected by chain mail. They were all chain mail on the inner part of his arm, and then plated to his elbow on the outside. A long back cloak swept past his shoulders, fitting between his wings. The wings themselves were midnight black on the outside and a dark burgundy on the inside, veined with a kind of slate grey.

The two adversaries faced each other, sizing each other up. The only sound aside from the rushing wind was the quiet hum of Aleos' Psynergy wings and the flap of Regnoare's.

Regnoare laughed suddenly, scornfully. "You would stand against me, alone? You do not have the might to defeat those such as I who have attained such power, and your motives are impure, tainted by a desire for vengeance. The Luna that dwells within you will only serve to strengthen me, while you will fail." He suddenly lowered his eyes, gazing into Aleos', and spoke softly. "I have looked into your soul. You will die." He said this with such conviction and malice that for a second Aleos believed him, but he gave no sign.

"We all die." Aleos said softly. "We all have our time, predetermined by the Gods at the beginning of the world. You are not one to change their edict, but if they have deemed it is my time to leave this world, then so be it. But as for you, Regnoare," he spat. "Your time is now."

Regnoare just laughed and shook his head. "Poor deluded fool," he said, in a voice dripping false sympathy. "You honestly believe that, don't you? Well, let me tell you something, a little secret I learned over the years," he blazed with sudden fury, and a black aura that crackled with Alchemy surrounded him. "One chooses their own path! I became ruler of this world, and the hearts of man quailed at the very mention of my name! And you, like a brief flash of light that has its moment and then dies, foolishly resisted me. And look where it got you! Your sister is dead, countless cities destroyed, the Spirits wrecking havoc, and soon, your friends will be dead as well! If you just rolled over and submitted to my will, all of this could have been averted.

"But no! You charged blindly into battle, delighting in your puny victories, never realizing I was behind you like an angel of death the whole way. And you never even realized you served my purposes the whole time…" He shook his head mockingly.

"What are you saying?" Aleos asked suspiciously.

'The Elemental Stars! Why have Sol Aurarius, as powerful as it may be, when it is only a fragment of the total power that Weyard holds! The Elemental Stars is the total essence of Alchemy, the full power of Sol Aurarius in addition to the very Alchemy torn from Weyard itself! And you, in ignorance of what you held, sealed them away in Mount Aleph! Poor fools… when I destroy you, the Elemental Stars will be mine! Then, I shall create the true Sol Aurarius!"

Aleos back-winged in astonishment. "You're insane! You would doom the whole world just for the sake of power?"

"Of course! As this world crumbles into nothingness, I shall be there to seize power and form a new world, one that conforms to my every whim! I shall create this world and all its inhabitants, and rule over them as a God! Don't you see? The Gods are nothing to me! When I gain power, I shall overthrow them last, destroying them one by one after they see all their realm go into the abyss of Chaos!"

"You think we'll just let you, after hearing all that nonsense?" Aleos said scathingly.

Regnoare stopped his exuberant proclamations, and looked with something akin to pity on the Void Adept. "Poor fool," he said, shaking his head sadly. "You have no choice. Even now, your friends march to their deaths, and it was so kind of you to foolishly walk into my dark embrace. Prepare to die!"

He stretched out him hand, and the talon-like claw was surrounded in a black aura, like a fog. He made a series of quick gestures, and the fog stretched out into the vague shape of a scythe. The darkness gathered and intensified, becoming more substantial. Soon, he held a scythe as black as midnight, from the shaft to the razor-shape blade. Aleos drew Masamune, the sacred blade grating against the sheath with the sound of metal on metal, and he held it in readiness, both hands on the handle.

As if on some invisible signal, the two enemies hurtled at each other, blades flashing. Regnoare swept downwards with his scythe, aptly named Chaos. Aleos slashed with his katana by pulling up with one hand and pushing down with the other. The blade whistled through the air and crashed into Regnoare's, and with a holy flash of light, it severed the head from the scythe, leaving the sickle to spiral down to the ground.

Regnoare merely smiled, and black fog appeared around the head, before forming into the contours of a spear. Moments later, he held an ebony spear with a cruel-looking blade. He spun it like a baton from hand to hand, before giving one last twirl and pointing it at Aleos. He flew forward and stabbed multiple times with the spear, aiming at the Valean's key joints and vital organs. Aleos frantically parried, but each time it was not quite enough, and he had countless scratches on his arms and legs to show for it. He finally held the spear at bay with Masamune while spinning and delivering a vicious kick in Regnoare's stomach. The Mantimian let out an oof and flew backwards, one hand over his stomach, though quickly he straightened and smiled.

Darkness once again wreathed his weapon, and when the smoke cleared it was no longer a spear, but a poleaxe. He slashed a few times in the air, each time leaving a black afterimage.

Aleos readied himself once again, and they met in combat once more. The heavy poleaxe was too heavy for the Void Adept to parry effectively, and so he found himself more dodging than swordplay, much to Regnoare's delight. He swung the poleaxe madly back and forth, watching with amusement as Aleos was forced to bend over backwards or do any number of acrobatic moves to dodge the blade. But his amusement faded when Aleos suddenly sheathed Masamune and grabbed the shaft of the poleaxe with one hand and launched a silver ball of Psynergy at Regnoare with the other. The target of the attack simply raised one armoured forearm and batted it away, where it flew off in the distance before exploding like a firework.

The two Adepts broke apart to a fair distance, both charging their next spell. A silver light began to radiate from Aleos' hands as he cupped them in a sphere, and Regnoare did the same some fifty feet away, except he shone with a black aura. Streams of energy the colour of their respective elements flowed into their hands, forming into concentrated elemental energy. With a shout, both unleashed their attacks, and a flare of light formed where the two attacks met. The two beams of Psynergy pushed against each other and the flare swung both ways, first in favour of Aleos then in favour of Regnoare. Aleos began to sweat with the struggle of maintaining the constant stream of energy, though Regnoare seemed unaffected by the power drain.

Regnoare's attack eventually overpowered Aleos', but the spell was so weak from the struggle that Aleos simply summoned a shield and the black beam dissipated against it. As one, the two summoned their weapons, and clashed anew.

Their battle wore on through the rest of the day, with neither side gaining a clear advantage. Regnoare seemed less susceptible to fatigue, as Aleos found out when the Luna Adept battled with the same relentless force he used the whole battle through. Aleos had to conserve his energy by doing as little action as possible, using the simplest dodges and parries to avoid Regnoare's attacks while occasionally using a minor spell, much to the necromancer's frustration.

Their battle carried them across the face of Weyard, from battling above the warm sands of Lamakan, the boiling thermals sending them flying to even higher altitudes. They fought above the high maintains between Ankohl and Xian, to the ruined city of Lilyvera, wiped completely off the face of Weyard: all that remained was a flat desert.

As Sol began to set, their battle carried them beside the great fog-wreathed country of Lumeria. The two warriors battle fiercely inside the thick fog, which obscured most of their battle. The only warning of an imminent attack was a shadow in the smoke, and then the whistle of a blade. Each wearying of the dangerous danced, they broke out from the fog and fought with the wall of smog to their side, flying high over the Sea of Time.

"You cannot win," Regnoare taunted. "I am the heir of Gazimonus, the Lord of Luna."

"I'm the descendant of Argyros, and need I remind you who won?" Aleos retorted.

"Your forefather was a weakling, too soft to be a real ruler. It was only by a fluke that he defeated Gazimonus, and even then his victory was not total…"

"What do you mean? Do you know something I don't?" Aleos demanded.

"Maybe… maybe not," Regnoare said, a smile playing at his lips. "Perhaps you will find out one day, if you are fortunate."

Aleos opened his mouth to retort, but a rumble in the air interrupted him. The very particles of the air seemed to be vibrating, and high waves rose from the sea below them. A golden flash of light erupted from an island below them, as well as one far to the south, on Osenia, as well as one far far to the north and another to the west. "What's happening?" He said warily.

Regnoare laughed and clawed the air with his talons, a smile on his face. "Your friends have just met their end!"

"What!" Aleos yelled in shock.

Regnoare held one hand up as if asking to give him a moment, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. Then he seemed to calm, and shook his head to clear his mind. "It seems like your four friends have fallen into my trap…"

"Explain."

"As you know, they were sent after five Spirits, the strongest of all. I imbued those Spirits with a portion of Sol Aurarius, where it could influence them, destroying their sanity while amplifying their battle lust. Indirectly, this also caused the weaker Spirits to feel the same, and this ailment is cured only by death," Regnoare explained, enjoying himself with this revelation.

"It seems your friends were successful in defeating the Spirits, and so the Sol Aurarius I gave to the Spirits was released. But is in the nature of it to seek the nearest host, so of course, it invaded the minds of your friends. They will succumb to its will, and you know what then?" Regnoare asked, his eyes dancing.

"I gain a quartet of servants, beholden directly to me by the influence of the Sol Aurarius I once possessed. And they will serve my far better than any of the Spirits could have, spiritual beings as they are, able to resist the influence almost completely." He clapped his hands. "Ironic that the warriors who tried to resist me will end up being my most powerful lieutenants, and they will find themselves all to willing to do my bidding."

Aleos just stared in shock at him, and then the blankness he felt changed into anger. "You… monster!" He yelled in fury, and Masamune suddenly began glowing silver. Aleos' shoulders were quaking with suppressed rage, and he raised Masamune above his head, the blade shining with a sacred light, making Aleos' face looked unearthly, almost holy in the light. "I'll end this now, you foul beast!"

"Rising Dragon!"

Silver rays of light flew into the sword, and it glowed brightly. There was a burst of grey light, like a supernova in the night sky, and a shape began to emerge from the blade: first a curved, almost elegant snout, then glowing silver eyes, then a sinewy neck and serpent-like body. Its slender body seemed to continue pouring out and out from Masamune. At last, it broke off and unwound itself in the air, and both warriors gaped in shock.

It was a mystical dragon with an elegant and wise expression, a slight down-turned snout and glowing silver eyes. Its back scales were a bright silver, and its underbelly a brilliant white. Long whiskers trailed from its cheeks, and small horns rose in a frill around its head, as well as having one long horn rising from its forehead like a unicorn, and two others from the back of its head. It seemed to be all neck with no body, just a serpent-like body that wound on and on, weaving in multiple directions throughout the air, doubling back on itself many times. It had wicked-looking talons that emerged from its body on stout limbs, and its body divided into five tails near the end, though each tail was still over a hundred feet long. In all, Aleos estimated its total length to be over three hundred feet, and it seemed semi-translucent, as it was a spiritual being.

Silver energy crackled in the air and seemed to gather around the dragon's head, channelling along the whiskers and into its skull. Its eyes glowed brightly, and rays of light poured from the gaps in its mouth. It opened its jaws and a brilliant white ball of energy formed there, flares of power escaping. With a deep twang sound, the energy attack fired from its mouth, trailing sparks like a comet tail. It was aimed for Regnoare, and the Necromancer barely avoided it, the ball skimming his wing and numbing it.

"Damn," Regnoare murmured, and with a flick of his fingers he healed it. He looked up to see the whiskers of the dragon glowing again, and the being opened its jaws again. Multiple orbs launched forth at the Lunarian, and he twisted and turned, the orbs screaming past him with a high-pitched whine. One struck his wing near the base and sheared it off, the leathery wing dissolving under the holy spell, and a second later the other one was hit as well. Regnoare cursed, and cast Volatilis. The Psynergy wings that emerged were deepest shadow and moved as if made of liquid. Dark violet veins raced through the blackness, and a ridge of red fire rose from the top.

A faint humming sound rose from the dragon, and Regnoare looked up in time to see the a wave of silver energy race up the whiskers and into its jaw. This time, however, the dragon opened its mouth and a giant silver laser blasted forth, concentrated in pure non-elemental energy. Regnoare cursed, and disappeared in a puff of black smoke, reappearing off to the side. He turned in time to see the cloud of smog be cleaved in half by the beam and evaporate into nothingness. The blade kept on going and struck the ocean, flinging up a giant tsunami a hundred feet high. The islands around it were swamped, and the beam had hit so hard that as the water was flung upwards, Regnoare was shaken to see the sea floor beneath, temporarily devoid of water.

The necromancer looked past the mystic dragon, and shaded his eyes against the silver aura. There, behind the avatar of Masamune, Aleos hovered in deep concentration, his blade glowing.

"That is it," Regnoare mused. He reached into his armour and brought out a necklace that he was wearing, a bone chain with a fragment of precious stone on it. At first, it seemed deepest ebony in colour, then wine-red, then amber, then plum, then midnight blue. It seemed a rainbow of the darkest shades of all colours, and Regnoare ripped it off its chain and clenched it in its hand. A dark aura sprung up around his fist, and he raised it in the air.

"Embodiment of Chaos!"

The darkest shades of the elemental colours appeared from the air and converged on the jewel, merging into a swampy black coloured orb. White shockwaves converged on the sphere, and then erupted into a storm of comet-like attacks, trailing darkness as thousands of them seemingly attacked the dragon and Aleos. The dragon swiped with its tail at them, but was puzzled as the whip-like appendages simply passed through as if ghostly. Regnoare smiled grimly.

All the energy was concentrated in merely one of the attacks, guaranteed to devastate its target. The rest were all illusions to distract and bewilder the target, making it almost impossible to dodge or reflect the true comet.

The spell progressed, and they dodged past the dragon and converged on Aleos. He raised his blade to parry, but one of the comets suddenly glowed and swept at him from the side, knocking Masamune of his hands. He let out a cry of despair as the katana spiralled down to the sea, and disappeared into the deep. The glow faded as it sank, and the dragon twisted his head back and looked almost sadly at Aleos. A wind began to blow and the shimmering avatar began to dissolve, but not before glowing one last time. Aleos felt the magic envelope him, and closed his eyes. A whirring wind enveloped him and he felt himself being affected by Psynergy.

The whirring stopped, and as he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself flying just above Mount Aleph again, Regnoare nowhere in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared the avatar of Masamune had bought him some time to regroup and prepare for a second assault.

He thanked the spirit of the sword with a mental message, and heard a faint hissing, like a fire sputtering. A cloud of darkness appeared in front of him, revolving in an almost tornado like shape. A black shape appeared in its depths, with glowing ruby eyes, and a low laugh sounded from within. The cloud dissipated and Regnoare hovered there calmly, smiling spitefully. "There's no escaping the power of Luna!" Regnoare said, flapping forward. "There is darkness in all existence, for every light; a shadow; for every joy a sadness. For every victory a ruin; for every creation a destruction. Life is short-lived and death is eternal." He smiled, fanged teeth protruding over his lip. "You cannot win! Just bow over and accept the inevitable!"

"You're wrong." Aleos said quietly. "Our hopes, our joys, our loves. These forces drive us and buoy us, helping us to withstand every despair, every darkness, every Chaos. Our light unites us, and we are brothers and sisters in Sol. Those that fall are kept alive in our hearts, our memories. Aquina," he said in a whisper. "For you."

A silvery aura sprung up around the Valean, and his eyes glowed a brilliant white. He clasped his palms together, and chanted. Ancient words flowed off his tongue in one continuous stream, and rays of light shone from between his fingers.

"Inanis Magnus!"

Waves of Psynergy collected on his clasped hands, and a light like a star come to earth shone on his hands. With a fluid gesture, he spread his palms towards Regnoare and a blinding beam of silver Psynergy erupted from his hands, accompanied by a loud humming sound. It was like the Force Psynergy, except on a much larger scale.

Regnoare said nothing as the blast enveloped him, hatred burning in his eyes. He raised one hand, reaching for Aleos, the necromancer barely visible as a faded shadow in the light. Then even that was erased, and the light was absolute. The beam faded, becoming a single white line. The line fizzled out, and nothing remained. There was no sign of Regnoare.

There was an onslaught like a dam bursting, and an incomprehensible force flooded Aleos' mind. It felt like every part of his body was expanded, and Aleos screamed in half-terror, half-ecstasy. The Void Adept, the last in the world, gave a last cry and transcended this plane.