A whole platoon of griffins, including Hesian riding proudly on Flury's shoulders and Blade hanging from Kit's talons, was headed for Night's storm. Bolero flew nearby, vigorous and renewed, white and full of fire. Flury felt both happiness and sorrow. He was sure his friends were flying into their deaths, but at the same time he hadn't known how dedicated to him they were. Elda was there, at his right. Kit, Blade, and Cazak were at his left. Callette flew next to her sister, both grim and determined.
"We're nearing it," Flury said. He could feel the malevolence of the vortex, sucking them in. He could also feel force acting against it. It took him a moment to realize that Elda was trying to neutralize it.
"Don't waste your energy," he said to Elda sharply. She smiled in a griffin way, but let the magic fall away.
Soon they were far too close for comfort, and Flury knew this was his time. He pulled magic from his reserves, questing for the source of the vortex's power. In a few seconds, he had it pinpointed. It wasn't in the storm, but the only way to get to it was by entering the storm. He felt horrid magics within the storm that would kill immediately, rendering a mortal creature unable to breathe. He also felt something targeted for him; a sort of armor that would protest him and only him if he entered. He pressed furiously, trying to locate the source spell of the armor as he signaled to his comrades to circle around, rather than flying directly toward it.
He felt a click. That was it! A cloak that hid one's mortality from the storm. "I'm going to armor you all with a spell," said Flury quickly. "Take down all your defenses." He felt them all do so (except Cazak and Callette, who were non-magic users) and proceeded to formulate his spell. It had to be special; it had to hide flesh and blood, to hide the force that was life itself. He smiled as he finalized the defenses around all of them. They all quested curiously with their senses to find out about this armor. Bolero had already erected her own shield, which was exactly the same as Flury's
"I don't understand this spell, Flury," called Blade. Flury felt him doing all the standard tests on the spell, but not finding results. Flury suddenly realized that Flury had been using a sort of magical sense he had never used before. He could actually feel and interact willingly with others' senses of magic.
"It'll work," Flury replied confidently. "At least," he whispered to himself, "I hope it will."
"It will," said Elda, who had evidently heard him.
"With Flury, who knows?" Hesian chuckled. Flury smiled, suddenly filled with a sense of well being. He wanted to make it through these trials. He was glad his friends were by his side.
"Get ready! Fly upward when we enter the vortex! Use whatever it takes!" Flury shouted, reinforcing his spells.
"Aye captain," said Blade. Flury was ballooning with confidence, his heart beating wildly and his stomach full of excitement.
And so they all entered the storm, and used their strength, magic, and anything else that resided in their minds and bodies to go up.
Flury felt the challenge on his wings, and he cast yet another spell, shooting upward like a missile into the clouds, grinning the entire time. Bolero was at his side, in the same mood.
The others made similar decisions, and Blade and Kit supported Cazak and Callette into the gate. For there was a gate, a grey gate of some foreign matter, and Flury was crushing the beams of the lock with sheer force of magic. He was overcome with momentary hopelessness. Then they were all through the gate, which closed with a snap behind them.
"Just as I expected," chuckled Night, leaning forward in his throne. Night was a little different to all of those who saw him, and Flury knew that he was. They all saw a griffin, save Blade, who saw a human in elegant dark clothing. His color varied, from gold to pink to black to blue, and his size also fluctuated even as they watched.
"Why don't you take down the illusion?" Flury asked. "I can see you're rather a vain fellow." A pulse in his own magic again; the weariness.
"Shut up, Flury," snapped Night. "I don't have time for you. I'm giving you a choice, understand?" As he spoke, everyone but Flury and Night disappeared. Flury gasped. He had not even felt the magic work.
"Who are you?" asked Flury, suddenly feeling rather weak.
"Night," shrugged the being. "I am Night, embodied." He let his illusory skin fall away, and Flury found himself looking at a human figure, albeit with blue-white skin and deeply black hair. He was clothed in a simple, yet elegant cloth, which looked as if it had been cut from the night sky itself. He stood up, showing an easy, powerful nature.
"You already know my name," said Flury. "Why have you brought me here?"
"Like I said, I'm giving you a choice."
"Between what?"
"Well, joining me or going against me," said Night smugly. "Not that you'd know anything about it. You've been too busy with those mortal idiots."
"And if I go against you?" asked Flury.
"You and your friends will all die painfully and slowly," said Night, gesturing expansively. "Same story every time, eh?"
"What would I be joining you in?" asked Flury.
"Overthrowing the gods of this world," said Night simply, leaning forward and smiling. Flury actually laughed, the very thought was so amusing. Who could entertain such thoughts?
"Shut up," Night hissed, snapping his fingers. Flury's beak snapped shut, rendered useless. He was powerless.
"Not quite," came a furious snarl in his mind. Two voices, one he knew and one he didn't.
"Brother, did you really think you could overcome me so easily?" asked the voices out loud, in unison.
"Day?" Night gasped. "But I—"
"Locked half of me up in a cage," the voices hissed. "You really think I'm that weak? Flury, you're stronger than him, for now! Don't let him twist the magic sideways like that!"
"Oh!" said Flury, as he jerked the spell upright, and off his beak altogether. "Bolero?"
"That's right! The Bolero of Days!" the voices merged into one, and a shining white woman appeared beside Flury, at counterpoint to Night.
"I had no idea you were that important!" Flury said in shock.
"Trust me, it's not really all that fun," she said, pushing loops of loose white hair behind her ears. Like Night, her clothing was simple and elegant; a slim, shining white dress. Her eyes, which were pale, pale blue, burned with suppressed energy. "It feels good to be whole again."
"One could only imagine," said Night dryly. "What do you expect to accomplish, Day? I've absorbed so many spirits that even both of you combined cannot defeat me."
"That's disturbing," said Flury. "What kind of power-crazed idiot are you?"
"Flury, you probably shouldn't goad him," advised Bolero (or Day as she was rightly revealed to be). "He really has taken all the outgoing spirits from this world of late."
"I see," said Flury thoughtfully. There had to be a way to utilize this to his advantage, but he needed time to work it out.
"I don't know if that makes him weaker in any way. I'll give you some time, though. It can't hurt," Bolero intoned. He nodded with a swift jerk of his head.
"How did you think that any combination of mortal power could do anything to the gods?" asked Bolero, adopting a deferent tone and expression. "I don't understand."
"Mortals have something the gods don't," replied Night smugly. Flury remained silent, listening intently. "It's called evil."
"Depends on your outlook of what is and what isn't evil. We consider you evil, but you think you're being perfectly rational," she said, tossing her hair thoughtfully in a rather theatrical gesture. Flury had had enough of this. He sent a shockwave of energy silently in Night's direction, but Bolero turned toward him furiously and cancelled it with a wave of her immaculate hand.
"You fool!" she said, gasping. "That's not your power! Don't use it! You're reaching your limit!" Flury was extremely puzzled, and he cocked his head to the side as Night raised his eyebrows, in a way.
"I thought you said I was more powerful than that!" he cried.
"You're a mortal container for a great and terrible power," she replied, sighing. "You should have been told this long ago. You've been merely adding Twilight's powers to your own for most of your life, but you're starting to rely on it. If you use such great power in a pure form, it will destroy your mind. Naturally, you're a rather powerful mage on the human scale, though not as powerful as they all think you are. You've only used Twilight's powers fully a few times, but it's showing in the way you're thinking. You've become more and more rash as time has gone on, just as Twilight was in his lifespan."
"Twilight?" asked Flury, his voice cracking. He felt something snap within. His metaphorical backbone. "My power isn't my own?"
"No," said she, "it belongs to our brother, Twilight. The third child of the sky. When Twilight was taken from his post and sent beyond, we intercepted his soul with our own power, and transplanted it into a mortal body. A griffin, the form Twilight had always preferred. We created you to house Twilight's spirit, to improve your world. We also noticed the impact that Chesney had upon your world."
"So I'm just Flury?" he asked. He bowed his head, ashamed. He hadn't any great power to impress Elda with anymore. He was just Flury.
"Night wants Twilight to join him, but Twilight's personality is kept in check by yours. I think Night has already realized that Twilight doesn't agree with this idiotic plan." Flury felt, not for the first time, a feeling that wasn't his own. He nodded, and berated himself at the same time for ignoring these feelings for so long.
"Bolero," he said, "why can't Twilight leave me?"
"I think he might be able to, Flury," she said, her face contorting. "But I don't think he would risk your death to do that."
"I'd… die?" he said, pushing Twilight's indignity back. Twilight would have been angry at fate itself, but Flury's own personality could not deal with such knowledge. He made a decision, thinking it would be the first noble thing he'd ever done on his own.
"If it would save you…" he muttered, staring at his talents, feeling his body tense with anguish. "If it would save Elda, if it would save all of them… I'm willing to release Twilight." Bolero looked at him differently now. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she stepped toward the griffin. She crouched, taking his head between her hands.
"Never be so quick to throw away your life, Flurian Atreck. There may yet be a way. I would never let you die for my sake."
"How touching," Night said, rolling his eyes. "However, you two have chatted for long enough. This spirit absorption really does wear on my patience, and you've just broken it. Neither of you have power enough to oppose me, nor can you give me any sort of mental stimulation. You merely annoy me. Goodbye."
"Flury, don't let Twilight do anything!" Bolero said as they fell into an abyss of darkness. "There may yet be some virtue in the purity of my magic." She said this not to Flury, but to herself.
Light blossomed from her fingertips, shining white wings flowing from her shoulders.
"A vile mixture of unwilling magic cannot triumph, Night!" she shouted, a harpoon of gold appearing in one hand, a sword of silver in the other.
"The abyss will claim you eventually, even if it is not this day," came Night's voice as Bolero carried Flury through a shining portal of light.
They landed somewhere, though Flury could not possibly explain its location. They stood in a courtyard of iridescent stone, stars shining above, beneath, around them.
"Where are we?" asked Flury.
"This is where Night, Twilight and I prayed to the gods when we were together. It is a sad thing that both my brothers are gone."
"Twilight isn't gone," Flury replied, his familiar habit of shrinking returning with his bashfulness.
"Gods. I pray to thee, intercede for this extraordinary creature. Bring one more brother to assist me," Bolero said to the stars, ignoring Flury completely.
"I pray that my friends will live to see the world restored, once and for all. I pray that Twilight might leave my body and help Bolero. Hear my prayer," Flury pleaded in a voice that was almost less than a whisper.
Both harpoon and sword left Bolero's hands, flashing into nonexistence.
"What do we do?" Flury said as her arm curled round his neck. She wept silently for a moment, but steeled herself.
She smiled, her eyes taking on a dragonish quality once more. "We act against the sins of greed and impurity. The gods don't act upon my whims, Flury, but they will hear my cry!"