Chapter XIX - Draconic Intervention
The Persona called Lindwurm raced toward the now-unrestrained Shadow Clerebold, slithering through the air with its lower body. Shadow Clerebold dropped to all fours before charging as well, the iron balls at the ends of his shackles scraping across the floor as he pulled them along. Before long, the two juggernauts collided, smashing their skulls together with an impact that sent a shockwave rippling through the air. Shadow Clerebold pulled back to prepare an attack, but Lindwurm chased after him, its fangs flashing forth and tearing into the warden's flesh.
The Persona's teeth left little more than flesh wounds, but Shadow Clerebold roared with anger all the same, bringing his arm back before swinging at his scaly target with a full-force punch. Springing into the fray from behind her Persona, the dragon girl dashed toward the warden and kicked his arm mid-swing, forcing the blow to go wide and smash into the floor. Shadow Clerebold gnashed his teeth angrily, but he had no time to strike again before Lindwurm raised its lower body to its user in midair, allowing her to leap off its tail and throw several punches at the warden's face.
Despite the strength put into the blows that struck him, Shadow Clerebold hardly recoiled. His rage was overcoming him, dulling the pain and tensing his body so he could shrug off any incoming attacks. With his muscles bulging and almost stretching his form, Shadow Clerebold opened his mouth and vomited forth a stream of boiling wax, the scalding substance washing over the draconic girl briefly and forcing her to back off. She hissed as she shook off the wax, spots on her scales and skin visibly burned, but she was forced to keep moving as the warden came toward her with his shackles gripped in his fists.
Shadow Clerebold wielded the chains like makeshift flails, swinging the massive iron balls at the end of the restraints at the cocky Persona-user. She began jumping away as the iron balls cratered the floor in pursuit of her, but her keen senses picked up the sounds of the three human Persona-users groaning in pain just behind her, forcing her to realize they would be caught in the warden's warpath. Thinking quickly, she planted her feet on the floor and braced herself, elbows bent as her arms hovered near her head.
Seeing the warden's incoming slam, Wymare lowered his head and tensed his body, doing what little his waning strength allowed for his protection. He felt the room shake as the iron ball impacted, but there was no sound of the floor cratering around him, nor the pain of his body being crushed into paste. There was only a dull, heavy impact followed by straining growls, and when Wymare lifted his gaze, he was met with the sight of the dragon girl holding Shadow Clerebold's makeshift flail held over her head, having caught it mid-swing in order to shield her fellow Persona-users.
"Sorry back there," the scaly fighter forced through gritted teeth, "But I'm gonna have to ask you lot to move!"
For a moment, Wymare despaired at her words. He glanced between Merliad's bruises and Yselt's blood-soaked arm, struggling to think of how to get the three of them out of harm's way given their wounded states. However, a movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention to the dragon girl's tail lying out on the floor next to them, and he realized too late that she hadn't been making a request.
The thick green tail swept across the floor with surprising force, pushing Wymare, Yselt, and Merliad together in a heap before shoving them off to the side of the chamber. The trio cried out in protest as they rolled over one another, adding to their pain before they slid to a stop. Recovering first, Wymare looked up to watch Shadow Clerebold swing at the dragon girl with his other hand, aiming to bash her from the side while her strength was occupied with holding the other ball aloft.
"They are MY quarry!" he bellowed, a wet gurgling audible in his throat as molten wax flew from his mouth like spittle. "Cease your meddling, you damned hoodlum!"
Hearing the metal links of the warden's chains clinking against each other, the girl looked to the side and saw the other ball rushing toward her. Though Wymare could see from her tense expression that she was exerting herself, a look of feral excitement was blazing in her eyes once again. It seemed that, in contrast to all other combatants on both sides of the battle, she alone was reveling in the adrenaline that coursed through her; the thrill of a desperate struggle.
"PERSONA!"
Lindwurm's scaly visage appeared between its user and Shadow Clerebold's iron mace, its upper body low to the ground and its tail raised high. It moved like a flash, smacking the side of the chained ball with one of its tail's barbed tips and redirecting its momentum away from its user. Unfortunately for Shadow Clerebold, the ball had been parried toward him, and the heavy lump of metal slammed into his sternum, painfully knocking the wind out of his lungs.
"Nice!" chirped the girl, finally heaving aside the ball she'd been holding over her head. "Now, Lunge!"
The serpentine drake floated up to Shadow Clerebold's face and followed the order, its spinal frills bristling before it lashed out with a swift claw swipe. Lindwurm's attack smacked Shadow Clerebold across his wax-smeared cheek while leaving deep gashes that carved through the wax and into his skin, extracting a pained roar from the warden as he recoiled.
"You wretched-"
"Skull Cracker!"
Not missing a beat, Lindwurm flipped its body in a full frontal rotation, slamming the end of its tail into the top of Shadow Clerebold's head. The impact forced Shadow Clerebold to take a knee, and his weary groans became a bit more disoriented as his mind clouded over for a moment. This dizzied state left him helpless to stop the dragon girl from running up to him and leaping toward him from below, her fist clenched tight as it crashed into the underside of his chin.
As her jump reached its apex, Lindwurm swung its tail down for its user to grab onto, lifting her higher into the air. Shadow Clerebold's head was knocked back from the force of her uppercut, and the soft, tender flesh of his meaty neck was visible and invitingly exposed. The dragon girl's fangs glinted against the flickering torchlight of the spire chamber, and she held on to Lindwurm's tail with all her might as the draconic Persona flew in circles, building up momentum.
When she felt there would be enough force behind her, the girl let go of her Persona's tail, launching herself across the chamber with blinding speed. With one leg extended, she drilled a single, powerful kick into Shadow Clerebold's neck, the resulting screech from the warden choked and broken as his vocal cords came close to being crushed. Thoroughly winded and battered, Shadow Clerebold slumped and collapsed on his back, the room quaking beneath his weight, and the dragon girl's fanged grin was as wide as ever as she returned to the floor.
Wymare's eyes were as wide as saucers, his mouth dried out from hanging open in awe. He stared at the toppled frame of Shadow Clerebold, incredulous that the scale-bound girl and her Persona had done by themselves what Yselt, Merliad, and himself could not accomplish as a team. Her method of fighting alongside her Persona also seemed to be second nature to her, giving him the impression that she was a far more seasoned fighter than any of them.
"So much for all that high-and-mighty posturing, hey, big fella?" she gloated, brushing some rubble from her scales as she approached the sprawled form of Shadow Clerebold. Her bright, vibrant eyes swept over him, assessing his injuries and searching for additional weak points. She could picture sinking her claws into the points of the body where she knew they would hurt the most, but the warden's tight, bulging muscles would make it difficult to skewer him in such a fashion.
Then it occurred to her that the muscles in his arms and legs were bunched and twitching. Her smile dropped and she moved to step away, but by then it was too late, and Shadow Clerebold's enlarged fingers wrapped around her legs before she could elude him. Shadow Clerebold sprung up from his downed state like a frenzied ape, slamming the dragon girl into the floor while unleashing a furious bellow. Wymare watched in horror as Shadow Clerebold dropped one of his chained balls on top of her, pinning her down and freeing his hands to rain down a flurry of swats and blows upon her.
The chamber shook with every strike, and though Wymare could see that the dragon girl had her scaly arms raised to shield her face, the pained look on her face made it clear the warden's blows were effective. The floor beneath her cratered and sagged as she was pushed into it further and further, and before long, Shadow Clerebold grabbed three of the chains bound to him, raising them and their attached anchor balls off the floor as he prepared to swing them all at once.
"Feel the might of the Royal Brilanian Labor Unit!"
The iron balls gouged out a trench in the floor as they scraped through the wood and stone, hammering the draconic Persona-user with the weight of a building. She flew into the air, bounced off the floor twice, and came to a halt when she smashed back-first into the wooden railing that lined the office's balcony. She groaned and raised a hand to her head, but she suddenly became aware that she had broken the railing upon impact. And as broken splinters of wood fell to the prison hundreds of feet below the raised office, she panicked, scrambling to get her balance as one foot teetered on the edge before she managed to pull herself to steady ground.
Grimacing with worry, Wymare looked between the unknown girl and Shadow Clerebold, seeing that both were clutching their injured bodies, though their energies were not yet spent. Now he was less certain that their draconic ally could handle the warden on her lonesome, and he cursed under his breath as he tried and failed to stand up. The bruises that the warden's chains had left on him ached like no pain he'd known before, and his body screamed in pain to protest his every move, causing tears of pain to spring up in the corners of his eyes.
"...Wymare..."
As a familiar voice whispered his name, Wymare turned his head to see Yselt crawling over to him, her flail held weakly by her bloody, fang-rent arm. Wymare's grimace deepened, for even with a swollen eye making it hard to see the finer details of his surroundings, he could tell that her injury was still severe and causing her excruciating pain. She persisted, however, almost dragging herself to his side while nervously looking to ensure her brother's Shadow wasn't paying attention to them.
"I don't think... she can do it. Not by herself," said Wymare, his hushed voice shaking. His chest ached with every breath, making even the act of talking a painful chore.
"I know," Yselt replied. "That's why we're going to help her."
Before Wymare could point out the obvious lack of strength left in their team's reserves, Yselt reached out and put a hand to his cheek, surprising him into silence. She closed her eyes and fought through the numbness in her injured arm, gripping her flail in a tight fist and beginning to mumble to herself.
"Dia... Dia..." she repeated, concentrating on the healing skill as its restorative effect enveloped Wymare like a warm blanket. He felt the swelling in his bruises slow to a halt, and after a few seconds the bruises began to fade entirely, his vision clearing as the black and purple hue of the skin around his eye returned to its natural coloration. Strength returned to his once-weary muscles, and his fingers tightened around the handle of his axe.
Unaware of his sister's efforts, Shadow Clerebold glowered at the dragon girl from across the room, rubbing his injured throat with one hand as he sized her up. He drew in a breath through his nostrils, focusing on the intruder's foreign scent, and he detected a faint whiff of something metallic about her, as well as the salt in the sweat that beaded down her cheek. He could hear the undertones of her breathing, sensing the killing rage of a wild animal within the Persona-user despite her wounds.
"You... You are strong, for a mongrel," said Shadow Clerebold, his distorted voice sounding a bit hoarse. "I will have your name, so I shall know what to write when you are entered into the inmate registry."
Much to his chagrin, the girl laughed at his request, her chuckle reaching his ears over the rushing winds of the open sky around the chamber. "Hehe," she finished, shaking her head before saying, "Ahh, that's cute. I'll tell you, but not so you can write it down in some list." She rolled her head from side to side, savoring the cracks that popped within her neck, and assumed a combative stance before continuing, "I'll tell you so you know it was Drassal, slayer of Shadows, who made you choke on your own blood."
"Even now...? Even now, in your present state, you would let your arrogance run free!?" questioned Shadow Clerebold, rising to his abominable form's full height and beating his chest with a clenched fist. "I... am the ruler of this prison! The overseer of Brilan's discarded trash! I am a pillar that supports the comfortable lives led by commoners across this kingdom's lands! Do you have ANY understanding of what it means to cross me!?"
Drassal, fighting through the throbbing pain that plagued her muscles, chuckled and wiped away a smattering of blood from her nose. "Nah. As far as I'm concerned, you're just an enemy," she replied. "One that talks too much for my tastes, at that."
"Die, then! And let my words grace your ungrateful ears no longer!"
Shadow Clerebold's fists hit the floor, shaking the chamber, and he took off on all fours, rushing at Drassal as renewed hatred twisted his face into a wretched scowl. The weight of his restraints did little to hold him back as he raised himself up to slam his body down on top of her, molten wax flying from his open mouth as it boiled in his throat. Drassal looked up into the face of fury that towered over her and grinned a fanged grin, lowering her body and preparing to stab forth with her claws as her foe descended from above.
But before she could lash out to puncture her foe's frame, a streak of green and silver flashed into the space between her and her target, and Shadow Clerebold stopped in mid-dive to let out a haunting screech of pain. Alarmed, Drassal looked to see that Gawain had appeared in front of her, its blade held above its head in a sturdy two-handed grip. Shadow Clerebold's momentum and weight had caused the warden to inadvertently fall upon the sword, and the weapon was now buried up to the hilt in the meat and bone of his shoulder.
Giving up his berserk assault, Shadow Clerebold pulled himself away from Gawain and Drassal, screaming with agony as Gawain's sword slid free of his shoulder. Ichor black as night spewed from the puncture wound like water from a spring, and some drops fell upon Gawain's armor, sullying the pristine silver metal with the warden's blood. Unconcerned, the chivalrous knight readied its blade again, looking revitalized and ready for the fight to continue.
Understanding what the Persona's appearance meant, Drassal looked across the chamber to where the humans had been lying. Wymare was standing tall with his axe in hand and a serious glare on his face, free of the many injuries he'd incurred. Yselt stared up at him from behind, her chest expanding and compressing rapidly as the fatigue of healing her teammate's wounds caught up to her.
"Clerebold!" Wymare shouted, stepping forward in a slow march toward the warden. "Don't lose focus, now. Your fight is with me."
Shadow Clerebold clutched at his wounded shoulder as hatred clouded his mind even further, recognizing the voice that taunted him. "Gahh... Thiebaut... THIEBAUT..." he growled, sniffing the air and turning to face the red-haired Scadarah boy that was approaching him. "This... is all... YOUR DOING...!"
As he spoke, molten wax leaked from the corners of Shadow Clerebold's mouth, flowing down his chin and neck toward his gushing shoulder wound. Seeing this, Wymare raised a hand toward him, the top orb of his axe flaring to life with blue light.
"Gawain!"
Wymare's Persona appeared in front of him and swung its blade in Shadow Clerebold's direction, a blue glow enveloping the weapon. A chunk of ice flew from the tip and lodged itself inside the hole in the warden's shoulder, blocking the wax from filling the space and repairing the damage. The molten substance hissed against the ice upon contact, and Shadow Clerebold's frown deepened before he charged toward Wymare with reckless abandon.
"Heal Merliad! I'll handle this!" Wymare said, looking over his shoulder to lock eyes with Yselt before rushing toward the warden alongside his Persona. Shadow Clerebold lunged forward, trying to grab at Wymare with both hands, but the boy channeled a current of green wind to fly over his swollen arms and land a swift axe strike to the side of his head. As Shadow Clerebold reeled, Wymare rode the wind over his foe's head and landed not far from where Drassal was standing, moving to direct the warden's attention away from his injured teammates.
"Hah! Not bad, rust bucket!" said Drassal with a wide smirk. "I had him handled, but it's good to see I was right about you."
"Um... Thanks," replied Wymare, a bit unsettled by the dragon girl's chummy demeanor when she was a stranger to him. "I have... a lot of questions for you. Let's talk after this."
"Yeah, sure," Drassal nodded, scraping her claws together to sharpen them. "We've been dying to fight alongside you since we first saw your power. Isn't that right, big guy?"
Drassal became enveloped in blue fire for a split second as Lindwurm appeared around her, growling enthusiastically as it fixed its bright reptilian eyes on Wymare. The beast's gaze made his stomach turn, and so he did his best not to focus on it, instead watching Shadow Clerebold as he turned to face the two Persona-users.
"Come, Gawain!" Wymare called, invoking his Persona to his side. "Let's finish this!"
Meanwhile, as Wymare and Drassal rushed toward the warden together, Yselt was holding Merliad's head in her lap while casting Dia on them, trying to rouse them from their barely conscious state. Their physical injuries were comparatively minor, mostly consisting of small cuts and some bruises, and they had cleared up before long. Their mental fatigue, however, was far more severe. Estraven being broken as violently as it had been had taken a heavy, heavy toll on Merliad's mind, and despite how many uses of Dia she had poured into them, they were only just starting to show signs that they were aware of their surroundings.
"Dia... Dia... Come on, Merliad," Yselt whispered, sweat pouring down her face as she staved off her own fatigue. "Please, wake up. We need you..."
A loud crashing sound followed by the chamber briefly trembling startled Yselt out of her concentration. She looked up from Merliad's pacific face to see her brother's Shadow had been pushed against a wall by a Lucky Punch from Gawain, and with him pinned, Lindwurm was hovering at his torso and mauling him with restless savagery. Shadow Clerebold's roars of rage and pain rang in her ears, and despite how inhuman his voice was, layered with his Shadow's distorted wrath, the sound of her brother in distress was still hard to hear.
"Mmm... Yselt...?"
The sound of Merliad's weak, confused voice gave Yselt a start. She looked down to see the caster blankly staring up at her, their eyes still unfocused as their faculties slowly returned to them.
"Merliad!" cried Yselt, her relief blotting out the turmoil in her heart for the moment. "D-Don't worry; it's going to be okay. Just relax..."
Yselt moved her hand to Merliad's shoulder and continued to use Dia on them. She felt her vision begin to swim behind her tightly shut eyelids, the dizzying feeling serving as a reminder that she was close to overexerting herself with her Persona's healing ability.
"Yselt... You're hurt," Merliad mumbled, their gaze falling on the bite wounds in Yselt's arm. They raised an arm and feebly touched their fingers to her bloody skin, channeling healing magic that began to slowly mend the incisions.
Yselt flinched and thought to tell them to stop; to conserve their energy as she brought them back to health. The warmth that poured into her arm was a great relief, however, and so she allowed the caster to keep healing her as she healed them. It was a strange sensation, feeling her wounds close and her energy return as she poured her focus into revitalizing Merliad in the same way. Even still, it wasn't unpleasant, and the symphony of battle that echoed within the office melted away as she slipped into a zen-like trance.
"Are you okay?"
Opening her eyes at Merliad's question, Yselt saw that they seemed to have fully come back to their senses. They were looking at her with concern, and she paused, unsure of how to answer.
"Well... I suppose so," she eventually replied, glancing at her once-wounded arm to see that Merliad's healing magic had repaired the flesh rent asunder by the chain devil. "My arm feels much better. Thank you."
"You're welcome, but that isn't what I meant," said Merliad. "Your brother is... not well. He's in denial. He hasn't accepted that the world has moved on since your family was broken, nor that you have changed since he abandoned you. I know not if he is even capable of accepting that."
"I recognize that," said Yselt with a firm nod. Merliad seemed taken aback at her quick response, and so she continued, elaborating, "It took me some time to understand what he was thinking beyond his warped outlook and ambitions. But it's clear to me now. He's hurting in the same way I was."
Yselt turned her gaze to look upon the monstrous form of her brother's Shadow, the gargantuan warden furiously striking at Wymare, Drassal, and their Personas. "He's afraid. He feels alone. Our mother and father left a hole in his heart when they absconded, and he's spent the last few years working to gain the ability to bring our family back together. He thinks that only then will he feel whole again, believing with everything he has that it will erase the trauma we've been left with."
"But you've recognized the truth: that nothing can undo the past and its wrongs," Merliad noted. "What makes you so sure that he can move on in the way you have?"
"My brother was never the type to concede a point unless he could be proven wrong. So I'm going to do just that: prove him wrong by living a fulfilling life of my own."
Yselt's eyes fell on Wymare, taking in the determined look on his face as he raised his axe to match Shadow Clerebold's aggression. She smiled, concluding, "Because the holes in our hearts... don't have to remain empty forever."
Merliad took in her words for a moment before nodding and sitting up. They drew in a deep, heavy breath to clear their body of the last of their fatigue, holding their hand out at their side as a line of cyan flames apparated to form their staff.
"You've found your answer, then," they noted with a small smile. "I hope you will hold fast to that desire. I look forward to seeing how you fulfill it."
With that, the caster turned and strutted toward the raging battle between Shadow Clerebold, Wymare, and Drassal, leaving Yselt sitting on the floor. A frigid mist began to swirl around their boots, causing their robes to flutter and leaving a small trail of frost in their wake as their power surged within their breast.
"The time for helplessness is over. You concur, don't you, Estraven?"
Heeding its user's call, Estraven appeared at Merliad's side by slamming the blunt end of its fishhook polearm against the floor, its sinister eyes gleaming in the darkness cast by its hood. Cold as ice, Merliad raised their free arm in Shadow Clerebold's direction and channeled their magic, forming yellow rune circles in front of their palm. They paused and waited, watching until the warden shifted forward and exposed the numerous ball-and-chain restraints that were draped along his back.
A deafening thunderclap rolled through the chamber as a bolt of electricity flew from Merliad's hand, striking the iron restraints attached to Shadow Clerebold's body. Conducted along the metal, the overwhelming electricity arced through Shadow Clerebold's body, causing the warden to screech and spasm as his muscles rebelled against him. Despite this, he managed to sniff the air, discerning the identity of his attacker as he shook off the paralyzing magic.
"Gahh... Scum... SCUM... SCUM...!" screamed Shadow Clerebold, repeating the insult with a feral obsession as he pounded the sides of his head with his fists.
"You'll have to do better than that, supervisor," Merliad said dryly. "I've been called worse things by better people, after all."
Shadow Clerebold continued to screech like a rabid beast, further angered by the caster turning his words against him. His screams did little to stop the fireballs that flew from Merliad's palm, however, and they tapped their staff against the floor as their magic volley struck true, cueing Estraven to rush ahead and slash at the warden with its hook.
Still sitting where she had been treating Merliad, Yselt watched as her brother's Shadow was besieged on all sides by Drassal, Wymare, and Merliad. His screeching was utterly incoherent, any sense of rational thought abandoned in favor of guttural roars that carried all of his hatred with them. He flailed his arms at Gawain, Estraven, and Lindwurm like he was swatting flies, finding no purchase while sword, hook, and claw tore into his flesh.
There was no semblance of the brother she remembered in the monster before her. And so, as she rose to her feet with her flail in hand, she knew what had to be done.
"Clerebold... I hope you can find it in you to forgive me," she said, taking a breath to calm herself before starting to spin her flail. "Nikanj! Let us do our part."
Nikanj bounded across the floor after appearing from nothing, following Yselt's charge as she raced toward her brother's Shadow. Noticing her approach, Wymare put together a plan of action and sent Gawain over the warden's head, the armored Persona bashing their foe over the head with the flat face of its sword. Already hurting and winded by his blindly raging frenzy, Shadow Clerebold stumbled and fell to one knee, his arms slack at his sides.
Moving fast, Drassal dashed to the right arm and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling with all her strength to keep the limb subdued. Lindwurm wrapped its tail around his forearm and pulled away as well, arresting the arm's movement much to Shadow Clerebold's dismay. Before he could reach over with his left arm to pry her off, however, he felt a bone-chilling coldness sweep over it, followed by a piercing pain in the back of his left hand. Estraven had dug its hook clean through his flesh to hold him down, and it exhaled a large, labored breath of frosty mist that rapidly hardened and coalesced into a thick sheet of ice that froze his arm to the floor.
Shadow Clerebold's screams of protest rang in the ears of the Persona-users as he struggled to break free. However, those cries were suddenly and painfully cut short as Nikanj leaped onto his chest, skittered over his shoulder, and wrapped its thick legs around his throat, choking him and pulling his head back so he was facing the ceiling. Above him, Yselt was poised to strike with her flail held aloft, the whirling head of spikes glowing like a star with nuclear power as she descended toward the warden.
With a drawn-out shout, Yselt summoned every second of anguish she'd lived through over the last four years of her life. She recalled every chilling rainstorm, every meal from the trash, and every lonely sunrise that had been hers to endure, the injustice of it all filling her arm with an impossible strength fueled by the suffering only the abandoned could know. The head of her flail crashed into Shadow Clerebold's face, expelling the nuclear power built up within it upon contact and lighting up the air with heat and crackling energy.
The blast burned through the blindfold and cracked through the hardened wax on Shadow Clerebold's head. As the ragged cloth blew away and shards of wax crumbled to the floor, the warden howled and ripped his hands free from Drassal's grasp and Estraven's ice with a surge of adrenaline. The Persona-users all jumped back at this, expecting their foe to come at them once more, only for Shadow Clerebold to cover the exposed part of his face with his hands and curl into himself on his knees. His feral screaming continued; however, he sounded more distressed at his face being exposed than he was at the pain that racked his form.
"Now! ALL-OUT ATTACK!" shouted Drassal, her eyes flashing with wild excitement as she recognized the opportunity before her. She pounced forth with Lindwurm at her back, and Wymare, Yselt, and Merliad followed her lead, unfamiliar with her command but understanding her meaning.
The team descended upon Shadow Clerebold like a storm. The warden flinched helplessly as attacks rained down on him from all sides, ripping into him with heavy slashes in vital areas, blunt strikes to his exposed flesh, and a vibrant array of magic and Persona skills that formed a rainbow of devastation. The reality of Parallel Brilan almost seemed to distort and morph around the Persona-users as they moved and attacked, their synergy growing as they fought in tandem with one another.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of relentless attacking, Wymare, Yselt, Merliad, and Drassal all leaped back and waved a hand at the battered warden. Their Personas came together in a line and struck as one, knocking Shadow Clerebold out of his fetal position with one final attack. The warden reeled upward, his knees still on the floor as his upper body straightened and his arms fell limp at his sides. It was then that his true appearance, masked beneath the blindfold and the wax, was revealed: where Shadow Clerebold's eyes should have been, there was only more of his distorted skin, stretched unnaturally across the empty sockets beneath.
The Persona-users landed on the floor as Shadow Clerebold continued to recoil, his wounded, sizzling body having nothing left to give. All four of them were exhausted, breathing heavily as they watched their massive opponent slowly topple over. Yselt nodded her approval at the results of their labor, wiping some sweat from her brow as she spoke.
"The end... at last."
Shadow Clerebold fell on his back in an unconscious heap, shaking the floating office chamber under his weight. The team and their Personas looked on as his monstrous form began to dissipate into black fog, the same that had crawled up the spire when the warden was transforming at the start of their battle. A disembodied whispering could be heard as the fog began to break and float away in the wind, eventually pulling away to reveal Shadow Clerebold in his normal state, still unconscious on the floor.
Delighted at the sight of helpless prey, Drassal snarled and scraped her claws against themselves, taking a step forward. However, Wymare's arm extended in front of her to block her advance, and she glanced at him with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. Wymare sternly shook his head while returning her look, then turned to look at Yselt instead.
"We've done what we can," he said. "The rest is up to you."
"R-Right," Yselt nodded, swallowing a nervous lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. After a brief pause, she began to walk toward her brother's Shadow, her flail and Nikanj disappearing into blue flames as she relinquished her grip on her weapon. A welcome peace fell over the battle-scarred chamber, and as Yselt knelt next to her brother's Shadow, she felt the eyes of her fellow Persona-users on her, creating a pressure that she did her best to put out of her mind.
For a moment, Yselt said nothing. She stared into the still face of her brother, a sight she had not seen in some time, and pondered over what she would say. There was a part of her that hadn't expected to get this far, selfishly hoping she would not have to face this manifestation of Clerebold's warped mind in such a vulnerable position. This, she knew, would be harder than a fight against any Shadow.
But she had to do it. For his sake, and for her own.
"Brother...?"
Yselt reached out her hand and shook Shadow Clerebold by the shoulder, gently attempting to wake him up. She heard his breathing pick up and saw his expression shift a bit, his previously calm face looking a bit uncomfortable and stressed. After a few more seconds of waiting, Shadow Clerebold's bright yellow eyes slowly slid open, and the first thing he saw was Yselt leaning over him, her lips curved upward in a small smile.
Her smile was quick to fade, however, when her brother's Shadow gasped and abruptly swung his arms, dragging himself away while staring at her with a look of wide-eyed terror.
"No!" he cried. "Please, I-I beg of you... Y-You can all go free! I'll do anything you ask of me! J-Just... don't kill me...!"
"We never had any intention of doing that," Yselt assured, holding her hands up in a gesture for peace. Off to the side, Drassal rolled her eyes and mumbled something inaudible, only for another look of disapproval from Wymare to shame her to silence.
"You lie!" Shadow Clerebold shouted. "You've plundered my prison, made a stir amongst the inmates, and forced me into submission! What reason could you have for such actions if not to depose me!?"
"I told you before, brother. I want to help you. Not by killing you, but by parting you from the authority you've abused as supervisor."
"What difference is there between the two!?" Shadow Clerebold grabbed at his white wig and gold monocle, throwing the ornate pieces of his attire to the floor. "I sacrificed everything to become the labor unit's supervisor! You can't take it from me; it's all I have left! If I lose my position, then I... I'll have-"
"Failed," finished Yselt, cutting her brother off. "You'll have failed. That's what you were going to say, isn't it?"
Shadow Clerebold said nothing, his mouth hanging open after Yselt stole the words from it. Taking his look of shock to be a tacit confirmation, she went on, lowering her hands to her knees.
"I know how you think, Clerebold. When mother and father were forced into hiding, you felt you were at fault for the fact that we had to live in squalor. You took on the responsibility of caring for me, and you thought yourself a failure for being unable to provide us with the lives we used to live. The guilt over that was eating you alive... wasn't it, brother?"
"I..." Shadow Clerebold seemed choked up, and he averted his gaze from his sister as he struggled to form the words. "I was just so mad. We didn't deserve what happened to us. Mother and father entrusted you to me, but I didn't have the first idea of how to improve the hand we'd been dealt. It was selfish and irrational, but a part of me hated them for doing that to us. And... an even worse part of me hated you, sister."
"I understand," said Yselt, nodding despite the hurt that flashed in her eyes. "In your mind, I became a constant reminder of the tragedy that befell our family, as well as your inability to do anything about it."
"I knew it wasn't fair to you to feel that way. But I was a child, the same as you. How was I to be at all equipped to handle those emotions?" Shadow Clerebold turned his gaze to the floor and shut his eyes, repulsed by the memories that were flooding his mind. "I hated myself for it. And the more I hated myself, the more I hated how weak I was. I couldn't do anything to help mother and father when they were here, and I could barely help you and me beyond the daily chore of survival."
"And that's why you threw yourself at the labor unit, wasn't it?"
Shadow Clerebold nodded. "It was a humiliation, but a necessary one. The opportunities are scarce, but as the labor unit is directly employed by Castle Gornemant and the royal family, there are rare chances for upward movement. I resolved that if I hated the hand we'd been dealt so much, I would change the deck itself."
The warden's voice was beginning to shake, and he looked up to shift his gaze between all of the Persona-users watching him. "Don't you see now? I only did what I had to in order to help my family! I never aspired to be a villain; I merely filled the mold of one as designed by our society!"
"I'm sorry, brother," Yselt cut in, "But you know as well as I do that you're not being truthful."
"And how would you know that!?"
"How would I know!? Look at yourself!" Yselt was angry now, raising her voice while glaring at her brother. "Look at Wymare and Merliad! Do you not remember the awful things you've done to them in the short period you've known them!? You blackmailed Merliad under threat of their expulsion from the Mage's Guild! You sent assailants to beat Wymare within an inch of his life! And for what!? They did nothing to you! They deserved those things no more than we deserved being ousted from our family home!"
Tears began to well up in the corners of Yselt's eyes as she scolded Shadow Clerebold. For as delicate as she had been endeavoring to be, Wymare thought, her lack of patience for her brother's excuses was something to behold. She wasn't finished, however, and she gestured toward herself as she continued.
"And look at ME! You left me alone in the streets to fend for myself! For two YEARS, brother! Did you sincerely think I would hold no ill sentiments over that fact!? And don't come at me by saying it was 'for my own good', because I don't care if that's what you told yourself so you could sleep in peace at night! It certainly didn't bring me any comfort in Rìo Ghaile's back alleys!"
"What choice did I have, then!?" retorted Shadow Clerebold, the pained expression on his face betraying his desperation to justify himself. "If I didn't chase this position down, I would have been incapable of making things better for anyone!"
"I didn't need things to be better! I just needed you!"
Shadow Clerebold looked stunned by what Yselt had just shouted. A blank look filled his glowing yellow eyes as if he'd never considered that possibility before. Yselt give him little time to process her feelings, however, for she didn't let up, her tears now running down her cheeks.
"Didn't you see it, brother? How I laughed when we would play in the trees and mud? How I smiled when I was with you, no matter how dirty or hungry we were!? You were all the family I had left, and you left me behind to chase a daydream! To chase a life that wasn't ours anymore! I wanted to live with you in the present, but all you wanted to do was run back to the past, no matter the cost! Can you truly look me in the eyes and tell me you're not a villain, knowing all the time I spent waiting for you to come back to me!?"
"But... But I'm here now," stammered Shadow Clerebold. To Wymare's surprise, he could see tears forming in the warden's eyes as well. "I brought you back to me with the authority I had as supervisor. Is that not enough?"
"No! No, brother, it's not! Because the person I've seen you be these last few weeks is unrecognizable from who I knew you to be!" Yselt paused to wipe her face on her sleeve, drying her eyes and smearing her salty tears into the sackcloth. "You've been corrupted by your deluded ambitions, seeing the horrible abuses of power you've committed as the cost of attaining power in Brilan. The Clerebold I knew would never have tried to justify those things.
"And I'm sorry, brother, but I've changed too. I told you before: I'm not the same person as the girl you left behind two years ago. I don't want any part of whatever life you had envisioned for us, because it would be one built on atrocities. I plan on making a difference in this world by helping those I care about and living for myself. If you want to be even a fraction of the person I knew Clerebold Imbertus to be, I suggest you do the same."
Now it was Yselt's turn to avoid eye contact with her brother's Shadow. With how distorted he had been in all of their visits to his prison, she was doubtful any of what she'd said made an impact on him. But as far as she was concerned, it felt good to say it nevertheless. Her hands, balled into fists, were trembling, and her eyes were still stinging with tears, but she felt as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. And surprisingly, she felt a sense of pride that she had been able to say those things and mean them with her whole being. Whether or not her brother took them to heart was, in a sense, irrelevant.
However, as she heard a sniffling that caught her attention, she realized that she hadn't needed to worry about that. Shadow Clerebold's eyes were streaming, his tears staining the fine linens of his uniform, and his frown, previously one of disdain and hate, was now one of deep sorrow and regret.
"I'm... I'm sorry," he said between choked sobs. "I'm so sorry, sister. I-It would seem... that I've f-failed you yet again."
That was all the warden managed to say before he collapsed into a full-on crying fit, bawling into his hands as he covered his face to hide from the onlookers. The severity of his actions proved to be more than his newly rediscovered conscience could handle, and as they looked upon his broken state, Wymare and Merliad didn't know how to feel. They were glad to see that Yselt had gotten through to her brother, but they still felt the same resentment for him that had driven them into his prison time and again. Drassal seemed more bitter over being denied her kill than anything, but she recognized the magnitude of the moment and stayed out of it.
A minute or so of Shadow Clerebold crying passed uninterrupted before Yselt stood up and walked over to him. She knelt next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, wondering if she should say something to ease his guilt. But before she could, Shadow Clerebold threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug and crying into her shoulder. For a moment, Yselt was surprised, and she returned the embrace with a soft, almost doubtful expression, but her surprise soon gave way to more tears as her brother's sobs spread to her, and the two siblings wept while holding each other for the first time in years.
Wymare breathed a sigh of relief and dismissed Gawain, seeing that the need for fighting had passed. Merliad followed his lead, allowing Estraven to vanish while smiling with happiness for Yselt. Drassal folded her arms and bit her tongue, and Lindwurm did the same, its lower body and tail encircling her feet in a manner that made it seem more like a pet than a Persona.
Some minutes passed before the Imbertus siblings had run dry of tears. Shadow Clerebold was the first to pull away from their hug, and Yselt respected the gesture, allowing the both of them to sit on the floor and look each other in the eye.
"I... I'm going to resign from the position of supervisor," Shadow Clerebold declared. "I'll admit to all of the awful things I did, and I won't bother you or them again. I give you my word on that."
"You don't have to stay away, you know," said Yselt. "We may be different people now, but you're still my big brother. If ever you have need of me, or even if you'd just like to talk, I'll be there."
"...That is more kindness than I deserve. Thank you."
Shadow Clerebold turned to look at Wymare and Merliad, a hesitant look dancing in his eyes as he considered whether or not to address them. With a small sigh, he decided to do so, and he bowed his head to the two in a show of respect.
"I... apologize for what I put the both of you through. I recognize that I have no right to ask you for anything, but... please, look out for my sister. Look out for her and be there for her in all the ways I could not. It would put me at ease to know that she will be in good company when I am gone."
"Brother!" Yselt protested, looking a bit embarrassed by Shadow Clerebold's request. "Don't ask for such things as though I'm not here!"
Wymare allowed himself a small chuckle at the sibling dynamic on display before answering. "So long as you make good on your promise, we'll consider it a fair bargain."
"Very well. You have my gratitude, Thiebaut."
It was a fleeting sensation that went through his mind, but for a moment, Wymare wagered he was seeing his first glimpse of the true Clerebold Imbertus - the person he'd been before losing himself in the pursuit of power and status. Perhaps, he thought, they could have gotten along under different circumstances.
"I will take my leave now," said Shadow Clerebold, pulling away from Yselt and standing up. "I must return to my true self and put things in motion."
The Persona-users watched as Shadow Clerebold's form began to glow with a soft white light. His body was becoming translucent, and his feet left the floor as he started rising into the air.
"Goodbye, brother," said Yselt, looking up at her brother's Shadow with a sad smile. "I hope I'll see you again soon."
"As do I, sister. Now, you all should get going. I'd do so quickly if I were you."
Confusion crossed the faces of Yselt, Wymare, and Merliad, but before they could ask for clarification, Shadow Clerebold burst apart into a flash of light and was gone. They looked at one another once he had vanished, sharing puzzled looks as if to clarify they'd all heard the same warning.
"'Quickly'?" repeated Merliad. "What do you suppose he meant by that?"
Before anyone could answer the query, the office shook beneath them, nearly causing the three to lose their footing. Just then, they were snatched up by Lindwurm, held together in the dragon's arms as it and Drassal turned tail and sprinted for the balcony.
"Woah! Drassal, what are you doing!?" Wymare demanded, agitated by the sudden commotion.
"The prison just lost its ruler, you idiot!" Drassal returned matter-of-factly. "That means his influence and power over everything in here is fading! We have to move!"
"W-Wait! What do you mean by-!?"
Drassal and Lindwurm had leaped over the cracked railing before Wymare could finish his question, plummeting from the raised office chamber toward the prison camp below. The three humans in Lindwurm's arms all started screaming as they saw the ground approaching them rapidly, only to stop when they heard a rumbling coming from behind them. They twisted around and craned their necks to look as the office, suspended in the sky thanks to Shadow Clerebold, tilted in place before falling alongside them, spinning end over end on the way down.
After several seconds of continued descent, Drassal landed on all fours on the roof of one of the prison's buildings, shaking off the rough landing before taking off in a full sprint. Lindwurm followed close behind, slithering through the air while tightly holding the three humans in its arms. Wymare, Yselt, and Merliad all watched as the office fell upon the tower it had originally been a part of, smashing through the stone spire with a resounding echo of rent stone and wood. The rubble of the broken tower rained down on the nearby buildings, piercing through their roofs like a meteor shower.
Finally, with another large leap, Drassal came to a sliding stop in the grassy prison yard, scraping up the soil as her claws dug into it. Once at rest, she nodded to Lindwurm, and the draconic Persona dropped the three humans on the grass before disappearing in a flourish of blue fire. They stood, watching with Drassal as the collapse of the prison's tallest tower gradually ceased, leaving the complex eerily silent outside of Shadows chittering and screeching in the distance.
"It's over... It's really over," said Yselt.
"That it is," remarked Drassal, showing her lack of investment in the emotions of the moment with her blunt tone of voice. "Gotta say, I was doubting you lot for a bit back there, but you pulled through pretty well. More than passable for a bunch of human amateurs."
"Uhh... Thank you," replied Merliad, pursing their lips as they stared at Drassal.
"Y-Yes... Indeed," agreed Yselt, similarly observing the scaly humanoid that stood before them.
It took a moment for Drassal to notice that all three Persona-users were ogling her. "What? That was a compliment," she said, shrugging and looking confused by their stares. "You humans like those, don't you?"
"Y-Yes, but that's... not it," Wymare spoke. "I think it's time we talked now."
Drassal arched an eyebrow for a moment, studying the others' faces before realizing what they were so reserved about. "Oh, right! You don't know me!" she said, laughing to herself. "Guess I kinda forgot about that. I've been watching you all for so long that I feel like I already know you pretty well."
That explanation did nothing to stay the team's puzzlement. If anything, it only made it worse. Unbothered by this, Drassal put her hands together, locking her fingers between one another, and raised her arms over her head, stretching as she turned her tail to the prison camp.
"Well, this isn't the best place to chat. Let's find somewhere nice to sit! My back's killing me after that landing."
With that, the dragon girl was off, striding toward the prison camp's exit with a simple excitement in her step. Wymare, Yselt, and Merliad all looked at one another with total confusion before following after her.