Opal had led Raihan to her apartment in the castle. They were in her study, a small library with a desk in the center of the chamber. The room was light but a messy array of candles and lanterns positioned all about the room. Indeed if even one was knocked over it would risk setting the entire archives ablaze.

She stared at Raihan in disbelief. She breathed slowly, not daring to make much of a sound as he finally explained it all to her. Discovering a fossegrimen, drawn to him by his music, everything he had learned from Piers, and then the sudden disappearance. In the pit of her guts, she was awestruck, but also envious. Even just hearing about it made her skin crawl, and turn green. A woman of many years, and master of fairy Pokemon, and even she had never been so blessed to experience such a phenomenon that Raihan happened upon by chance.

Was it fate? Luck? She didn't know. The old crone's hand gripped around the head of her cane, knuckles cracking, bones rubbing and chafing against the many rings on her fingers as she loosened herself. The growing scowl on her face vanished to a more composed appearance, and she nodded her head.

"I see…" she began. "So, you wish to remove your soul in the hopes that you may find where your little merman has disappeared to? Who's to say he didn't just swim away and leave the Kingdom?" Opal walked about her apartment and turned her head to pass a glance at Raihan as she spoke. With a tug of a large rope, the large silk curtains opened, revealing her balcony that overlooked the whole kingdom from high in her tower. "The world is indeed vast beyond Hammarlocke, my pet. He could have gone anywhere."

Raihan banged his fists on the woman's desk, gritting his teeth at her. "NO! I know he couldn't have. There's no way Piers would have just left without reason!"

"How can you be so sure? You said so yourself that you hadn't seen him in months. Sure, it's possible you could lose the ability to hear his music, but not seeing them only means they either left or have died! What proof do you have that he may have already departed this world?" Her voice was stern as she stabbed her cane into the marble floors. Opal continued moving about, pulling books from mess piles and shuffling through pages in a language Raihan couldn't even begin to decipher.

"Because...that night, he just...he seemed so…" Raihan swallowed, remembering to still so vividly despite months having gone by.

"Yes?"

"The way he was acting had been so different. Piers had always been cold, and short-tempered. But that night he seemed almost weak, and timid. He was scared, almost like he knew something was going to happen to him and he just-" Even now, the memory was clear. Raihan could still smell the fresh water and sand tangled in Piers' hair, feel his cool smooth skin at his fingertips, his taste lingered on his lips, making the former dragoon's tongue twitch savor it. His ears twitched, remembering the last song he had heard him playing, one of such sorrow and misery.

Having to relive it all was painful - painful in the fact that it wasn't until now that Raihan realized Piers' final words and actions hadn't been a promise of, but a desperate cry for protection.

"He was gone, and I couldn't save him!"

Silence.

Opal nodded her head once again and moved to pull another, but much small rope. "Very well then, Sir Raihan," she said. Momentarily, a large cauldron was summoned between two bookshelves, almost as if it came right out of the wall. She continued flipping through her books, running her finger over text, and currying to collect various things lying around. "Well, what you're asking for is a very tall order, Sir Rahan. The extraction of one's soul can be a very dangerous act, and one that can become permanent."

"I don't care! Do it. Take my soul if you must. If it'll allow me to fuse with nature and find him, then it's worth it!"

She shook her head. "Let me make it very clear for you before you do this…." Opal began dropping whatever she had collected into the bubbling cauldron, checking her book every time to make sure there were no mistakes. "You won't fuse with nature, for starters." In went, a slimy-looking creature, creating a large puff of smoke. "Once the soul is removed you'll lose your right to be human, and gain a new form."

This time Opal sprinkled in flakes of herbs Raihan couldn't identify. He had never been the scholar of anything save the blade, the spear, and wyverns. Probably witches hazel, he figured.

"What form you'll take well...that depends on you and the deeds you've done throughout your human life. You could turn into a fossegrimen like this fellow of yours, but there's an equal chance you might end up an ifrit or mindless imp. Are you prepared for that?"

"What do you mean I won't fuse with nature?! You said in the library I would be able to if my soul was removed!"

The witch continued her work, moving slowly, but steady. "That is true, in layman's terms. See, creatures such as dragons and fairies live in our world thanks to the aether. Magic essence is potent in all forms of life and is this kind of energy that sirens, pixies, and all creatures of that nature draw from in order to live. Some do this naturally, absorbing the essence in everything around them. It's in the air, in the water, in the trees- everything, seemingly limitless, and what allows them to live eternal. While others, like sirens, must feed off human flesh."

"So then how is it that fairies die whenever a human no longer believes in them?"

"Fairies are a particularly special case, Sir Raihan. I'm sure you're familiar with the tale of Neverland? There was once a great and powerful fairy, who guided children to a land where they could stay young forever, but you see...as kind and beloved as she was, her very actions were selfish - kidnapping children for the very thing that kept her, and all her sisters alive: faith. For as long as a child never grew old, they always believed in fairies, and thus the fairies had eternal life."

"You expect me to believe that an old story we were told when we were kids was real?" he sneered.

"All stories have to come from somewhere, Sir Raihan. Fact or fiction, well...that depends on who you ask."

"How do you know all this, Lady Opal?"

In went a handful of eyeballs, making the brew sizzle.

"The very same reason a fairy stays alive. Faith, trust, and, well...some might add a bit of pixie dust, but that part really is fiction," Opal giggled as she continued, this time pouring in an entire bottle of something pale, and a foul stench. "Have you ever wondered how witches and wizards use magic? There are many theories of this. Some say that they are only half-human - part dragon or fae, themselves. But in many cases, it is because of their faith in the unseen that they are granted the right of privilege to channel magic's essence into their world."

"What does all this have to do with me? What exactly will happen after my soul is removed? After I take on this new form?"

Opal turned to look over her shoulder and smiled. "Think of the essence like an invisible blanket. It covers everything in the world, but we cannot see it. After your soul is removed, you'll connect into the aether, and transform. You'll be able to hone into another realm and see into the essence. If your fossegrimen is still in this world, even as a lowly wind spirit, you'll be able to see him, among many other things. Are you prepared for that?"

"Whatever it takes, but is there a chance it can be undone should I never find him?"

She grabbed a large spoon by the fire and began to stir. "The soul cannot last long outside the human body before it withers and dies. If that happens, you will be trapped in your new form forever, and when you die...there will be nothing left of you."

As she kept stirring, Opal looked over her shoulder and Raihan with a stern, serious look in her eyes. "Three days. That's all you have. Return here on the evening of the third day, or else you forfeit your soul." With that, it seemed whatever she was brewing was finished, as with a wave of her hand, Opal conjured a goblet from thin air, ready to school it full.

"Wait! I forgot something very important…" Opal raced over to a small treasure box on her desk and grabbed a handful of tiny crystals, which she immediately tossed into the cauldron. As she continued stirring, the brew bubbled bright pink. The air of the study was clouded in a sweet, sugar scent. "To help it go down better," she teased with a smirk as she handed a full cup to Raihan.

He eyed suspiciously, staring at his murky reflection on the surface of the pink liquid. His heart was pounding so heavy that he felt he was going to burst. He could feel his blood being hammered as he watched the sizzling bubbles atop the steam potion. Everything Raihan wanted was right in front of him in his trembling hands, looking back at him with eager, anxious eyes.

"Lady Opal, and what is that you want in return?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He looked up at her. "Surely you expect some form of payment for this, don't you?"

Opal only smiled and shook her head with closed eyes. "My dear Raihan, I have lived longer than I care to recall. You simply drinking my potion will be more than the payment I need."

Still, he hesitated, looking back and forth from the cup and Opal. "...is it you? Are you the witch the king has been hunting all this time?"

Again, she shook her head. "No, dear. Magic is different from science. It can conjure food, manipulate the soul, and warp nature's laws, but it cannot create disease. It cannot heal the injured. Curses, hexes, and enchantments are one thing, but sickness- that is a different realm that magic cannot touch."

Raihan was silent, processing her words over one final time. His eyes twitched, and he looked out to the balcony, and then back to Opal one final time. "Thank you, Lady Opal. I'll be back in three days. Please, keep this a secret between the two of us, will you?"

Opal followed him out onto the balcony and twisted her ring. "Not a soul will know where you've gone. Once you've taken off, I won't be able to help you. Make haste, Sir Raihan. When you're ready…"

He nodded, eyeing. The woman's ring as it sparkled in the moonlight. Then his eyes fell back on the cup in hand. This was not the time for second-guessing or hesitations. With a deep breath, Raihan raised the glass to his lips and began to drink it as fast as he could. The taste was ungodly and had him gagging. His throat reflexed, choking just from the taste. If those crystals were meant to help it go down easier, Raihan could only imagine how bad it would have been, raw.

Even just the first few gulps made him want to involuntarily drop the goblet to the floor, and throw up whatever he had swallowed. Raihan pushed forward, taking gulp after gulp, and licking whatever spilled down the side of his face. Not a drop would go to waste as he thought Piers at the moment. The knight's vision blurred and his body began to shake violently as he threw his head back to better pour the cup's contents down his burning throat.

When it felt like the worst had passed, Raihan immediately collapsed to his knees. He could barely see, anymore. His body was going numb, mind dizzy, and insides burning. His hand instinctively reached for his throat to try and soothe the fire, raging down to his guts as he gasped for air. Spitting, coughing, and gasping for breath as drool and leftover potion seeped down his chin, Raihan felt delirious.

What was happening to him?

Raihan couldn't control himself, anymore. His body was acting on reflex, like it was being tugged by invisible forces, limps reaching until he was on all fours, and spine hunched. He could see, keeping his eyes shut and he started screaming, but heard nothing save the world around it, as if his voice had been swallowed in a void of oblivion. Bones cracked, and organs twisted until he could no longer tell what shape his body was, anymore. Everything felt heavy. His jaw unhinged and his clothes ripped from his body as appendages sprouted from his shoulders, ripping his flesh apart, sending him into a whirlwind of agony. His head split into agony as pain stabbed through either side of his scalp, reaching into the sky. Blood dripped down his face, warm and thick. The strong, endless taste of iron flooded his mouth. Still, his silent screams howled through the night. Death was rearing its scythe over the knight's head, ready to send him to the hereafter.

Was this what it meant to lose one's soul; for Hell to grip its claws around and claim someone?

In a final eruption of pain, Raihan howled, this time loud and clear into the night as his eyes shot open with a blood-raged stare to the stars, vision still blurred by the pain. then...it was over. He was huffing frantically, trying to suck as much air as his lungs could hold. Every fiber of his being urged him to collapse. The knight wasn't even sure how he could find the strength to stand back up. He was still coughing as his sight began to return him, looking down at his hands.

Claws? Scales?! He moved them, and then shook himself about, and gasped! These weren't his hands. NO! They were, and that's what frightened him. His rough, dark skin could still be seen but was now scared with scorch marks and scales sprouting from his flesh, fingers long, and nails sharp and curved like talons. With heavy breaths, he ran his tongue under his teeth which threatened to tear and slice at it. Fangs. His shoulders felt heavy, and so he turned around, feeling his wings drag on the wind. Startled, he beat them and lost his balance. Raihan tumbled to the balcony floor, tripping over his large tail.

The transformation had worked. Raihan stood tall, and weak, with wings on his back, horns on his head, a tail dragging behind, scales over his skin, and eyes piercing through the shadows with a scarlet, fiery glow. Raihan had turned into a creature of ancient legend, one that was thought long extinct. Centuries had told of the ancient being that stood human-shaped but lived alongside the dragons, serving as the connection across the gap between humanity and the prophesized bringers of destruction: the draconians.

Hardly moments after getting back on his feet, light glowed around Raihan's body and then streamed across the balcony towards Opal, and vanished into the gem of her ring. A pale light shined from it, and then...it dimmed to nothing, trapped in the ebony stone. A hollow, emptiness was left in the confines of Raihan's being. He felt lighter but also darker like a bottomless pit had opened deep within. He could feel it - his soul was gone.

"Three days, Sir Raihan. Make haste," Opal said in a grim tone.

The draconian didn't answer. He gazed out into the night. The veil had been lifted. He could see the world's essence in a sea of color, sprites, and particles of dust floating around everything.

Raihan stretched his enormous wings and beat them against the air until he lifted his body from the balcony. This was it. He was off, cascading across the winds, into the night. First to the falls, and then he'd search from there, follow any leads the essence could give him. He would find Piers if he still existed in their world.

His search had begun.