Rows upon rows, columns upon columns. An endless gyre of blackness and tall banners waving black flags bearing the Light's symbols. A chant was raised above the silence of the mountain peaks, it was in High Selentic at times and at others it slipped into proper Silrian, the translation lost to the winds of time but it struck fear wherever it reverberated. A long-drawn threat of hate and fire, a war chant long left unsung, the marching cadence of the Light's legions. The sanctuary of the Rhyle stood at attention, the army still far away but approaching like a black tide ready to break upon their rock and drag in under the deep. They knew whether it was fact or fiction, that Silas Grey himself had organized a great seige, or if they were on some longer quest but they remained afraid and soon their worst fears would be realized. Outriders from the great legion came in twos and threes, emissaries and messengers bearing cryptic messages and pieces of scripture. Only when cobbled together after days of confusion and anxiety among the rank and file was the meaning clear; a purging had been called for. One betrayal would beget more, and to stamp out the heresy before it festered and grew. There was no innocence for those who transgressed, only degrees of guilt, and to Silas there was much guilt in a cell within the Rhyle and to root it out a great siege was on its way. If the leader of the heretics was presented to Silas himself for execution when they arrived the army would turn aside its wrath. But if no suitable offering was made, there would be a decimation the likes of which the Rhyle, for all their might and magic, had ever seen.
The Rhyle were afraid, and as the stream of messages thinned to a trickle they feared in their path they had erred and vengeance had come. The Rhyle prepared for the worst, recalling all they could. In the halls of power, there was one who was resolute. His jaw squared against the fear of his comrades. One last missive, one last ultimatum. Submit or die. He would rather die.
Sudden the bastion of the Rhyles gates opened. A single rider on horse shot out and rode into the distance. A host of soldiers ran to the walls and aimed weapons, but their mark was too far away. As the shots rang into the distance, a quiet settled upon them as they watched. Most of them were confused. they hadnt understood the orders to kill the rider. But then, there wasnt much they did understand these days.
One of them, Arcturus Mingsk, rubbed his brow in weariness. He had had enough of this.
Im done baying words with you Director. You were warned repeatedly to stop, but you persisted. So now I am going to take matters into my own hands. STG 17 and STG 31 have both been dispatched to your location. You are being held in contempt of treason. It is time to end this madness. I know you secured that mans right of passage through the gates. I know what his precious cargo was, and I know you had been hiding it from us. Kins journal, the most complete collection of his writings we have was never meant to leave our grasp. We know the other pages are scattered and there is a reason he did it. To protect it all.
Your "friend" grey has declared war on us, and I blame you. IT was your meddling that brought this upon us. And now we will fight to the last man if we must.
Inside the walls, members of the Rhyle were having hushed conversations. Ultimatums, missives, threats and promises. Arcturus sat with others, nobody really "knew" what was happening, but they had some ideas.
Suddenly a call to order was made. The Rhyle assembled in the courtyard. About five thousand of them total occupied this area. However few of the top ranking were present. Many of them operated in other locations, so in such a situation, they would be safe from war.
But one stood among those who remained.
Praetor Julian Cashern. He walked to the podium and addressed his fellows.
"My Rhyle, you have today seen the face of the enemy. Our own allies have betrayed us, attempted to put unjust blood on our hands. They blame us for their own folly. They took Kin, corrupted him and used his own strength against us."
Murmurs of discontent could be heard from the crowd. But they seemed aimed at the Praetor.
"Today we must stand to hold our own oaths, stop the corruption that assails us-"
Suddenly a gunshot rang out. The courtyard sprang to life, two men jumped Arcturus and wrestled him to the ground and pryed the gun from him. It was purely out of instinct as everyone had a reason to be on edge tonight. The Praetor hit the ground, a bullet through his leg. But rather than help him they mobbed him. Arcturus had actualy worked his way to the front of the crowd. Grabbing him, a small cluster of half a dozen dragged him out. Arcturus had an arm as they exited the gate. From the walls and the open gate, others watched. Another of the greater Rhyle, High Praetor Nikero, sat on the parapet of the wall. An old Shaolin Monk, thin and sickly, but eternally wise, and a revered teacher. His sage council was invaluable to those around him. He had, in the recent events remained highly neutral. He did not want to incite conflict, as many of their ranks would gladly hold the sword for him. Instead, he was pleasantly satisfied with the actions of the younger generation. Proud that they had seen a problem and when the time came, they spoke for themselves and solved it justly. One of his students spoke.
"Sir, why is this happening? I mean, why hand him over?"
Nikero's old wise eyes gave his student a wink.
"This is the hand we have been dealt. We would face destruction if we dont. If we do, its still very possible we would all die. But Grey is not beyond reason, nor beyond good sense."
"Everything changes now, doesnt it?"
"Change is good... at times..." He sniffed the air. "This is the way of the world... besides, did you really believe anything he said? He had jurisdiction, and those under him were only following orders. Do not think them all corrupt. Now he has no strength, and he shall be measured as he is."
"Some remain loyal to him?"
"Yes and no. They believe what he said, and will continue to fight for it to their dying breaths. But wether or not they follow him specifically is a different matter altogether. I hope they will let reason win."
They sat for a moment, of course, this was the sort of man that simply sitting with could be an enlightening experience.
"Now, would you be so kind as to help an old man down the steps? I think it is time for me to speak."
The student offered him an arm and soon the two had made their way outside.
Standing there, out in the distance and separated from his army, a lone horseman waited for the small group as a representative for the "invaders". Nikero offered him a bow. "Greetings my friend."
Silas Grey, eyes firm and cold, watched the events play out behind the blindness in his left eye replaying over and over. Victory perhaps, the removal of the betrayer was important, but this was only a small victory in the face of what was coming.
He arrived on his black steed, his eyes raking the crowd as a man bound with a black bag over his head was tossed into a cart behind Silas. The gates slowly creaked open and Silas walked his horse over the corpse of a trusted messenger, Belial. His wing stumps were still smoldering where they had been torn off so many years ago. The forces of the Illrians stood at attention far below, awaiting the order to attack or to return to the Far Veil. Silas turned and made a hand motion, it was quick and fluid but its meaning was clear. Stay your hands said the motion and like a mist suddenly caught in a gust the army seemed to vanish leaving nothing but footprints to mark their passage. The high echelons of the Maledictum rode up on the backs of Void Dragons and horses and they passed together into the Rhyle's stronghold. Silas had a plan, but first he needed to know how deep the betrayal had seeped and if it was worth dealing with harshly.
Silas dismounted and stood within the gates, leading his horse on foot into the heart of the Rhyle. A place he had been to many times before.
~~~
Wherever the Praetor was, it wasn't cold anymore. His eyes blinded by the sack over his head, he tried to feel around and felt a small wooden area, his hands bound and covered in sackcloth he had no idea where he was or what was going on. He noticed the wooden area was rocking, perhaps a boat or a cart, and the hum of a man nearby meant he was watched. The humming had no words, so no knowledge of who had captured him was made clear. His own men? Outsiders? The invader's under Grey's command? In the oblivion of the black sack, he kept wondering what was going on until he was manhandled and thrown into a cold, stone place with silence on all sides and his hands were unbound and the sack removed. A jail cell somewhere, strange gray skinned men outside holding strange-shaped blades. He didn't know what Illrians looked like under their armor and cloaks, and gaped at their blackened wings as they stood speaking in a tongue he did not know.
From the shadows he saw pinpricks of red light, many Shadow Wraiths were watching their beady little eyes glaring into him and following every movement. Shadow Wraiths did not sleep, did not eat, and were utterly loyal. He wouldn't be escaping, not while they watched him. He'd be disemboweled in moments by guards. He sat on the stone floor, in a sulk, caught in the heart of his own domain by enemies he did not know. If these were the invaders, they were almost perfect in their execution of his capture. Almost; because the Praetor knew he would escape. It was only a matter of time. That was when he felt it, just as the thought of escape entered his mind, a kind of buzzing and droning from everywhere. The guards looked at him and watched as the Praetor slowly succumbed to the noise and fell into a deep sleep.
It is with a heavy hand that I tell you all of this. You have already learned my connection to sigma. You understand the dynamic interplay between his fate and ours. But before you kill me, you must understand the reason behind it all.
A long time ago, I and a like minded individual (you can probably guess, it was Grey) had a notion that a time would come when a greater strength would be needed than anything we could produce. Thus project Talisman was formed. Its goal was to provide earth with the strongest and best to stand for it against all odds. Through the use of ancient and powerful knowledge, we aimed to craft the perfect weapons. And we did.
Kin was to be the first of many, but we never found others with his potency. So he became the only one. We brought him in, only telling him pat of the plan. The rest he was blind to, though it wouldnt surprise me if he did know and just played along. Through a long and grueling process we exposed him to ancient power that nearly killed him time and time again. But he survived and became stronger and stronger. Each time, though it pained me to do it, I pushed him further and further into the fight, he came out alive, and I knew I would have to ask the unthinkable of him once more.
Eventually we found that his mind would be destroyed if he continued, though not in the way we expected. And so we requested of him, his greatest work. To erase his own mind, and leave fragments of the ancient power scattered throughout the world. He willingly, even happily accepted. But when the deed was done, he was too weak to survive in this world. So we plotted a coup. We threw him into Drakona Zhivot.
You have often talked about my sins, but you dont fully understand them. You see, the Zhivot didnt drive Kin mad, I did. We broke him and threw him into such an impenetrable cage, that only with a great effort such as the Ilirians could he be freed. Where could he possibly be safer? Not with us, not with Silas even. For we all have traitors in our midst, but there are no sides in that accursed place.
I tell you this because now that Kin is free, he must face the long road of his own destiny. And his greatest and final task is ahead of him. He must follow his own past, in order to save our future, and he cannot do it alone. Which is why I gladly let that messenger through the gate. I overrode your orders to seal him in, and it was my personal, trusted Rhyle who carried out the task. They will gladly face accusations of insubordination, at least they will have a clear conscious.
I have done what is necessary, when faced with such extinction, every alternative is preferable. I have fulfilled my oath as a steward, as have my men. And I hope that one day, I will be able to forget my sins, forget what I had to do to follow that oath.
It is time for Kin to rise up, to take his place, and to fight the fight he was born for. How else could you explain his survival and mine? And so he stands with Grey and his knights. And I gladly stand with him.
So let your teams come, let them hunt me down. They wont find a fight, I wont resist. They will only find an old man, racked with grief and guilt, tired of his struggle, and clinging onto the hope that what he did was right in the end. I have nothing else to give. I just pray that Nicholaus survives me.
I resign, I take my leave. I know not what will become of project Talisman or of this life. But I know how I will face such an end.
Sincerely yours,
Vice Praetor, and Former Director of Project Talisman
Nigel Meridius Kin
Silas, his eyes a skein of hatred, looked at the man before him. Tied to a rack on a wall and whipped until he screamed and salt pressed into his wounds, was the Praetor of the Rhyle. He was not broken, he resisted every effort of Silas's own torturers and even submitted to the agony of silence. Silas held the small metal rod, its head a small red ball. It was cursed, woven with a hundred prayers of hate and fire. Silas hefted the rod and looked at the Praetor.
"I am so sorry for this, but if you will not tell us why you betrayed your own humanity then I will be forced to do this."
the Praetor only spat at Silas and growled like an animal. Silas nodded and signaled to an Illrian next to him who unshackled the Praetor and turned him around, and shackled him again to the wall. "You could have told us, you could have just told me why."
Slowly Silas dragged the rod down the Praetor's back. The Praetor howled in agony as a red scar ran down his back, exposing his spine. With another smaller, more delicate instrument like a large clamp with a thin wire like a jack. He clamped it to his spine and injected a black liquid while the Praetor screamed an inhmuan scream on agony.Silas stepped back and said
"Bring in the healers and prepare the Imperiomancers. He will be much more willing to cooperate now."
REEALLLY sorry for the long wait. I have three portions, beginning, middle and end. Beginning is done, which I'll post now. End is almost done, Middle is half-ish. Once i'm done with middle, I'll post that. Then, i'll post the End.
The village of Hearthbow is, for the most part,
The village was crawling with Rhyle. Soldiers in black specialist uniforms with the insignia of the Stewards patched on their shoulder roamed the streets, with Mages of almost all calibers walking with them. They were scattered throughout the village, but were concentrated in four areas. The first was likely their headquarters, what looked to be an inn was now a heavily fortified base with complex instruments installed on the building?s exterior that could both be surveillance or defensive in nature. The second one was the house of the now deceased target, his notes and journal located somewhere within the structure by virtue of numerous patrols still within the vicinity and the broken door at the front porch and blinding lights all over the construct.
The third point however, was a stand off. Soldiers of the Third German Empire had appeared in force, and from what he could gather, they were saying to the Rhyle that they were hunting someone down that was a danger to the Empire. The stewards, in return, were obviously not letting them in, further aggravating the soldiers. If not for the fact that Black Rose Inquisitors and Rhyle Knights were on-scene to direct their subordinates, then it was likely that both sides would have already gone on to shoot each other dead.
Things would have further stabilized if not for the fact that the Soviets had made an appearance in Hearthbow as well, not quite as Sinclair intended however. Red Star Commissars, accompanied by armed escorts, arrived into the town covertly and was almost engaged outright by outraged Inquisitors. The Rhyle stopped it, but it had turned into a three way conflict. The Black Nail smiled ruefully. Old Slovak would have been too old and too wily not to have noticed Sinclair?s attempts to steer the Soviets here, but as usual, he didn?t give a damn at his machinations and simply moved forward.
?Well, isn?t this a right old shit storm hmm??
?Indeed Mr. Violtier.?
Sinclair found that he liked Cyrus. He was intelligent, and for the past few hours they had been conversing in different languages, starting a sentence in, say, african and ending it in russian as a way of keeping themselves flexible. His use of the Bow and Arrow was fascinating as well, never having considered using the archaic weapon that Cyrus used with such mastery. At least, he considered how his near decapitation with the thing when the two had met up as mastery.
?So, we are to meet your men, isn?t that right Sinclair?? Cyrus said, rising from the kneeing position he was in to withdraw into the forest behind them.
Sinclair nodded, putting down his binoculars and crawling away from the mountain?s edge as he did. ?If your mind picks up three targets, don?t immediately kill them would you? I prize the lives of my men highly.?
Cyrus nodded lazily. ?Yes, yes. If they were to die from an itsy, bitsy arrow, they?re not really very good thaumaturgists now are they?
Sinclair snorted. It was actually surprising how quickly he discarded the whole ?dangerous thaumaturgist assassin? aspect, which was amusing really. If he had not been part of the Rhyle, he would have tried to get him into the Guild by anyway possible. A truckload of whores and a mountain of cocaine would not have been unappreciated, he was sure.
Eventually, they found three figures in the moonlight, one man and two women. They were indistinct in the darkness, vague forms hanging around a tree. There was a bag leaning on the tree, along with several other, smaller, bags that Sinclair assumed belonged to the other three.
?I believe they?re your men then Sinclair?? Cyrus said, knocking an arrow onto his bow but not yet pulling.
The Black Nail nodded, taking into account their tense forms. He smirked at his fellow Imperiomancer. ?Watch this.? he said, as he moved away from the shadows into the open, making no move to mask the sounds he made or minimize his profile.
The three figures immediately tensed and looked at Sinclair?s direction, and he found their immediate reactions quite amusing. A woman with curly shoulder length blonde haired turned around to face him, she quickly flexed her wrists, causing two metal war axes to flip off of her back and into her hands. A male with a lanky form proceeded to bring his hand out into the air, as though grasping for something. Another woman, a woman with jaw length black hair, had the same reaction, except where the man?s hands were empty, the brunette?s was filled with an unnamably horrific void that he recognized as Perdition Magic.
?Now, now.? he said, a shit eating grin on his face ?Is that anyway to treat me??
Sinclair noted the man?s reaction, which was an immediate gasp and bringing his arms down as though they?d been burned. The brunette was a more cautious one, showing concern about her partner?s immediate reaction and lowering her arms slightly. The blonde showed no hesitation, merely lifting her axes higher as though to throw them.
?Who are you? What are you doing here? Answer, or I swear I?ll knock your head off!? she cried.
Sinclair could practically felt Cyrus? arrow a mere release away from lodging into her skull. He was not likely to get far enough with verbal communication, not at the moment anyway, so he decided on an alternate route.
Crimson flames erupted in his hands, shocking the three and lowering the blonde?s guard for a fraction of a second.His eyes burned with the same fiery light and he spoke deeply. ?I am the Master of the Hellfire Coven, Master of the New Order of Thaumaturgists, and Master of you little thaumaturge. If you cannot sense even that, then I know you are an enemy or are new to how Hellfire operates.?

The three members shuddered in varying degrees of fear. The man was shivering in his terror, the brunette had noticeably gone paler and the blonde clenched her axes. Sinclair continued to speak in an arrogant and booming voice that echoed across the trees.
?As such, the Black Nail of Hellfire asks of you this. ?When the Sun fails and the Darkness rises??
The trio seemed confused for a moment, before the man stepped forward and hesitantly answered. ?Th-the Hierophants will Take their gilded Thrones.?
The other two looked at their fellow with confusion, before the brunette?s eyes widened in understanding
Sinclair continued. ?When the Magi rise up as part of Their vices.?
The Perditiomancer spoke. ?Their shadows will hunt and crush their bones.?
?When Babylon rises, higher than ever before.?
The Geomancer realized what Sinclair was saying then, and joined the chant. ?Hellfire will swallow them whole.?
Sinclair smiled, and said one last line. ?And when the night has ended and light does shine.?
?The Green Sun Princes will unlock their binds.?
Sinclair smiled, amusement back to the fray as his fire was extinguished. ?Well, I?m glad that Kessler taught you all something. It would have been unwise had he sent you to me without knowing the chant.?
The trio stood there, confused for a moment, before the brunette walked forward, speaking in a soft, hesitant tone. ?Ah...yes, Lord Sinclair, I-?

He chuckled, with no ill will hidden underneath. ?Now, now. No need for Lords or Masters here. Those are only for formal occasions, and this is no time for formal occasions. Call me Mr. Sinclair if you will.?
The brunette showed confusion, before acquiescing. ?Very well Mr. Sinclair. My name is Sasha Mitchell, The Music in the Void of Amon, Perditiomancer.?
Sinclair nodded. ?Yes, yes. I?m aware of the Amon Coven. Very nice chaps. Somewhat quiet and serious, but very nice once you get friendly with them.?
?Ah..true, sir.?
The blonde moved forward, axes retreating back.?Oh hush Sasha.? She said, interrupting her ally in a gruff manner. ?My name is Rose Porter, The Steel in The Dark of Mortimer, Geomancer.?
Sinclair?s eyebrows raised. ?A Mortimer? Of the intellectuals? I?m surprised they have a Geomancer with them.?
She smirked. ?Yes, they were rather surprised as well.?
He snorted as he turned to the last figure. ?And you are??
The man visibly flinched. ?Ah! Well, sir, my name is Howard Alanko, The Enlightenment in Mind of Sacrosanct, Imperiomancer.?
Sinclair visibly grinned, slapping the man in the shoulder. ?Ah. What an interesting band we have here!?
He was aware of their files, of course. Kessler had informed him in an email about their general attributes to see if he was content with them, and he was more than content.
These were all for the singular purpose of covering all his weaknesses. The execution of the operation required him, or someone like him, to be in multiple places at once. Hence Mr. Alanko, an accomplished Imperiomancer that was completely loyal to the Guild to carry out the other act. At the same time, despite having the capability of defending himself handily in close combat situations, should a determined, melee, foe reach him he had no illusions on his survival rate, even with Baltreth. Thus Ms. Porter, a Geomancer accomplished in the use of magnetism, blade creation and use of the environment to defend him. Thirdly, Cyrus? and his combined might would be capable of handling most other threats, but should they not be, Ms. Mitchell was there to help buy them time to escape. Or kill everyone here. He wasn?t quite sure yet.
?Now!? Sinclair exclaimed, drawing their attention. ?The fellow a few meters behind me, bow in hand and ready to decapitate you at a moments notice, is my Rhyle friend here. He might not necessarily like me, but he?s kept up his behavior long enough that I?d treat him as a friend. Cyrus, introduce yourself if you would kindly??
There was a moment of silence, followed by the undrawing of a bow and a muttered curse before the Archer entered the light, certainly surprising the others. Sinclair smiled.
?Now that that?s all wrapped up, what do you have for me??
In a dark room Silas sat, holding his stomach as it growled. Something he was unused to, as his body became normalized to a mortal existence again. The deed was done and all the Praetor had to tell had been told. Delivered back to the Rhyle to do as they wished, Silas sat alone pondering his options. What he had learned required telling to his Knights but it was neither good news nor bad news. Malachi was quiet, giving Silas room to think alone.
~~
[DM]
In your journeys you are able to, through actions fair or foul, gain access to the myriad notebook papers needed to reassemble Kin's old notebook. Those of you who ave not posted, you've arrived at the pre-determined meeting place to assemble the document.
Ryan and Kishima made their way to the nearest cab station where they rented a cab to the Rhyle base next to the post office. After a 20 minute journey they had arrived at the address. There was nothing special about the place with the exception of a large warehouse which seemed broken up and largely rotten in places.
"This place is a dump!" Kishima said, "Wonder if they're still in here. What do you think Ryan ?"
Ryan made no comment and decided to walk forward towards the warehouse. Ryan had been quite quiet lately and Kishima assumed that it was because of the journey at sea. Ryan had threw up twice the amount Kishima did and that was a lot. However Ryan did not seem any happier to be off that blasted boat. Perhaps the end of the world is getting to him Kishima thought as he walked towards the warehouse behind Ryan.
Ryan knocked on the door. After a few seconds came a reply. "Who are you?" came the voice of what sounded like a young woman. Kishima was tired from the journey and had no time for games. "Santa Clause, who do you think? Open up Silas sent us." Kishima replied in a frustrated voice. The girl had taken the hint and opened the warehouse door. "My apologies, we heard that Silas was sending people to find Kin's book but we had no idea who to look for." Kishima looked at her. She was not much younger that he was and he could see that she was clearly tense. "Don't worry about it. Now could you lead us to a room as we are awfully tired."
The girl relaxed and gave out a sigh of relief. "Of course, follow me to your rooms." Kishima and Ryan, who was still silent, followed the girl towards their rooms. Ryan entered his and he presumably turned in for the night but Kishima still had a couple of questions for the girl.
"Are you in charge here?" Kishima asked.
The girl turned around. "Yes, I am Sophia and I am in charge of this hideout in Detroit."
"Nice to meet you I'm Kishima. So I assume you know what we are here to do and that we will possibly encounter resistance, right?"
"Of course. We have contacted the other hideouts in Detroit and we are all ready to assist you in the retrieval of Kin's page. We also have a weapon cache here in case you need to resupply your weapons."
"Thanks for that. Inform your men that we will be leaving tomorrow at 9 o'clock. Goodnight."
"They will be ready. Goodnight."
Kishima turned and entered his room. It was much cleaner than it looked from the outside. In fact the whole place was. What looked like a dump from outside was in fact a well maintained building inside. Putting his bags in a corner he sat on the bed. Lying down he went to asleep as exhaustion from his journey was starting to fade away.
The next day
Kishima was awakened my a loud buzzer. "Alert! Alert! Hostiles at the North gate. All men to the North gate." the voice on the speaker was saying. He got up from his bed and looked outside. The sun was just rising. Equipping his weapons he stepped into the hallway and look over the rail in the area below. Ryan rushed out immediately after him.
"What's going on?" Ryan asked.
"They are attacking the base. They probably want to capture us and use us to find the page." Kishima said. "Look there's the Rhyle they need our help."
Ryan nodded and ran down the stairs to join the fight. Kishima stayed on the balcony and started firing his bow. The attackers starting taking heavy casualties but one of them spotted Kishima and aimed his weapon at him. The man pulled the trigger. But his shot missed. Ryan had tackled the man causing his weapon to miss its target. The Rhyle had closed in and finished the rest of the attackers off. The battle was short but the Rhyle had taken some severe casualties.
Kishima approached Ryan and patted his shoulder. "Thanks for that. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Ryan answered back.
Kishima moved towards Sophia who seemed to be giving orders to the remaining Rhyle. "Who were they?" Kishima asked. "They are Kin's enemies. They heard about your arrival and wanted to use you to find Kin's strongbox." she answered. "Can your men still assist us?" Kishima asked. "Look at them they are broken! They could not last another fight like this!" she shouted at him. "Listen I don't care about them. They are soldiers. They knew what they signed up for and if they don't help us find this page then they'll have bigger problems."
He turned away from her and started walking towards the exit. Sophia called after him, "Fine, the rest of the Rhyle will meet you there."
3 hours later
Ryan and Kishima had arrived at the address mentioned on one of the papers. "It will be on the 46th floor of the building. The number is 631 and the combination is 23-66-33-67" The paper read. Kishima spoke into his headset. "All units status report."
"Sniper teams designation Alpha and Bravo are in position on the rooftops of the buildings across the street. Rapid intervention teams, designation Charlie, Delta and Echo, are just around the corner waiting on your word. Finally we have a heavily armored vehicle ready in case you need extraction. With the attack we had this morning it's safe to assume that they had been watching your every move."
"Acknowledged, proceeding into the building." Kishima responded. They entered the building and took the elevator to the 46th floor. Carefully checking the corridor for any hostiles they made their way to room 631 and used the key on the door. He looked around the room. It seemed as if it had been rummaged through earlier. Fortunately, the strongbox was still safe. Kishima inserted the code and took out the contents, Kin's page. Carefully he placed it in his pocket and headed towards the door.
"Hmm, this might be easier than we thought we might ac-" he stopped.
"Kishima you have multiple hostiles entering the building. We advise you to get out of there!" Sophia transmitted over the headset.
Just as she had finished speaking the elevator door opened and the men who had spotted Ryan started shooting. Ryan took cover behind the wall.
"Just give us the page and we'll be leaving you alone." one of the henchmen said.
"Sure you will. Alpha, Bravo open fire!" Kishima said. The five henchmen dropped. However as they dropped gunfire was heard from the outside. Kin's enemies bought reinforcements with them, which had spotted the snipers.
"Damn were spotted. Alpha relocating" the leader of Alpha group relayed.
"Charlie, Delta, Echo, engage hostiles and secure this building." Kishima ordered over the headset. Quickly they headed down the stairs, slashing and shooting their way through the henchmen which had took the stairs. Finally they had arrived at the entrance. The Rhyle squads were involved in a shootout with the attackers which had managed to block off the road.
"Send in the car, we are getting out of here!" Kishima said. Their position was under heavy fire but the enemies kept their distance. That's when Kishima realized that there were still enemies above them. He turned and looked at the elevator. 45,44,43 it was coming down with carriage load of henchmen. They would not be able to survive that. A minute passed and the vehicle broke through. "Snipers give us covering fire! We are pinned!" The sniper started shooting allowing Kishima and Ryan to spring for the car. "Go!"
"All units retreat. The package is secure. I repeat the package is secured nice job." Kishima put down his headset and turned to the driver. "Take us to the harbor." he said.
Ryan and Kishima had arrived at the harbor finding Sophia and a couple of Rhyle there with her. "I hope this was worth it. A lot of good men died to help you get the piece of paper. Anyway we came here to give you your baggage and wish you farewell." she said. "Thank you, we couldn't have done it without your help." Kishima replied taking the baggage from her. He and Ryan headed towards the ship. Great another one of those. he thought as he set foot on the ship which would take them to China.
-----------------------------------------
Present Day
Kishima and Ryan had arrived outside the castle. "I'm exhausted, climbing this here mountain. How about we wait a minute before we head in hmm?"
Kishima took the canteen and took a big sip of water. He hadn't drank anything since the previous night. He passed the canteen back to Ryan and sat against the nearest tree which offered him some shade.
"Hey Ryan, I meant to ask you something. Why do you think this page is so important that we almost got killed over it ?"
As the trio arrived, the gates of the ancient palace were opened to them. Those inside gathered with curiosity at the newcomers. Men of all ages, most of the of the orient, shaved heads, wearing green and jade colored robes. Everyone was polite, bowing, saying welcomes and little prayers. Ana and Nathan appropriately bowed back, and Kin following suit, though unsure why.
"Who are these men?" he asked. Before Ana could respond a voice was heard.
"They are your brothers." From within the crowd a man emerged, aged, and slow moving. "A bond beyond blood which escape your mind, no?" He looked as if he might have fallen off a charm bracelet. He smiled. "So it came to pass as he predicted then?"
Ana bowed. "Yes O Father."
O Father. The head of the monks, and a powerful auramancer. However he barely used that power, favoring instead something much deeper, something which Kin had studied long ago and now returned to rediscover.
He gave a low bow to Kin. "Though you do not know us, we know you. We have long awaited your arrival and are eager to have you among us once more."
For the rest of the day, they conversed. Others of the order tended to Ana and Nathan, giving them a much needed rest. O Father took Kin aside and the two walked along the courtyard of the palace. A small group of younger monks followed them, listening intently to their conversation. (The irony is that some of these monks had in fact, seen Kin as a mentor many years ago, though now they seemed his betters)Kin himself wasnt sure what to make of the surroundings.
"I must apologize, I am sure that much of this feels new to you." The man said to him. "Though I promise soon, you will understand far more than you have.:
"Thanks... I guess. Its just that it feels like people expect a lot of me..."
O Father could already finish his sentence. "But you know not how to see the path ahead of you." He stopped walking, so did Kin.
"My child, you once told me something. You made me promise to give you this much back should you return."
Kin folded his arms. "What was that?"
"You told me to tell you to follow the past..."
Kin looked down at the tattoo on his arm.
"You told me that one day you would need me, and that I must help you become who you were meant to be, who you were. But I can only do this if you are willing. I can open the door for you, but you must walk through it."
Kin could only stare for a moment before O Father continued.
"Sleep on it for tonight,let your mind rest upon this. Then you choose your path."
And with that, the master parted ways, leaving Kin to his own devices.
Later that night, Kin sat, gazing into a candle lit in his temporary room. A knock came from the door. Ana looked in " May I come in?"
"Sure."
As she slid the door behind her closed she asked "Bad time?"
"No, not at all." Kin seemed to finally tear his gaze from the candle as Anastasia sat down next to him.
"O Father tells me you are feeling reluctant."
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Im sorry, this has been moving pretty fast hasnt it? But Im sure if you just trusted us, you will see that we mean the best for you."
"Well so far everyone else seems to be looking out for themselves. After all, they want me back to 'save the world'. I havent exactly had much time to adjust, if you could call it that."
"Again, Im sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" It was killing her on the inside. Watching this frustratingly distrustful person pick her intentions apart.
"I dont know what will help." His tone seemed somewhat aggressive. "Everyone has been treating me like some goddamn science experiment! 'careful when handling him, he might go off!' Its not exactly the best thing for me right now!"
"Im sorry Nicholaus." Anastasia shook her head.
"And im just supposed to take your word for it that that is even who I am?"
"I should go." She stood up and made for the door, only hearing "Yea you should..." being murmured behind her.
With a forceful pace, she began to make towards the garden. She needed to get away. As her footsteps echoed in the silence, a voice could be heard.
" You dont walk very lady-like to me."
O Father was after all, one of those guys who could hide in plain sight if he so chose.
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Forgive me, I didnt mean to disturb you."
The old man sat down, inviting Aastasia to join him."It sounds to me like you are the one feeling disturbed. Please, tell me, what disturbs you?" It was like he already knew somehow, but wanted her to say it.
"He just isnt the same man I knew."
"Truth..." The old man sniffed the air. "His vitality has been drained of him. Where once a fire burnt, now only dust and ash remains. The young man so full of vigor is gone I think. Replaced with pain, confusion and sorrow. A part of him remains. The part that must find direction. But it is missing the other parts. He has feet, yet the young horse needs more than four sound legs to run, does he not? It requires a sound heart and a sound mind. And a Path to run on."
"I miss him."
O Father Nodded. "So do I, child...He was and is an inspiration to many here. Not just for what he did, but for who he was."
"He always spoke of this place like it was a refuge for him. Like... like he found God here. He found peace here, didnt he?"
"He found much more, I would say. He came here a long time ago, in his 'first life'. Silas, before he became what he is now, asked him to be excused from active duty from the Rhyle and his superiors agreed. He came here to study for years before returning. And though he was a greater man, he still had his folly. After he died, the mask was brought to us for safe keeping, under the protection of Laslo Mercer, a man we once trusted.
O Father sniffed the air. "After he found his new body, I remember when he returned with you. He seemed to have grown, and continued to do so. As did you." He gave her a smile, brushing her hair to the side and gently cupping her chin. "Dear child, this has all come to pass for a reason. Just as we taught him once, we shall teach him again, though he must choose this. But dont be afraid, for he has been brought her because he is meant to be at this place at this time. Allow him to come to his senses. That part of him that is left, it will win in the end."
She brushed a tear away from her cheek. "Thank you." She hugged him. He smiled.
"Now sleep, dear child. For tomorrow, I feel that the winds will change, and so shall our circumstances."
The Far Veil splintered, the air seeming to vibrate and fold aside and it was there. Covered in a cloak scintillating a hundred thousand colors, some of them beyond naming. It slunk with its back slumped as if it were carrying a weight, head tipped to the ground...it sighed and shuffled the cloak, causing its display to stiffen and change to a pale gray-brown. It stood to its full height and cracked its knuckles, the place was unfamiliar but with all of his skill he had been able to peel back the layers of protection to reveal it. Whatever the Light had made its champion, it was here. Astos had designs to aid it, as long as it was prudent to do so or until his former friends had learned that Astos the Deceiver was not to be crossed.
Behind him were two Silent Ones, carrying Lazlo Mercer in their arms. He had been nice enough to say his name before catching a full glimpse of the Far Veiland screaming himself hoarse. The dreamless torpor he was in was done only to save Astos's ears from his constant whimpering and screaming. He was probably a Uranophobe now, but a small price to pay for saving his life from a bullet that would have probably exploded his entire head over the room. Astos began to climb towards the monastery ahead, hoping he wouldn't be immediately torn apart by the Light's warriors and perhaps given a chance to change his allegiances,if only for a while.
~~~
He lifted the massive knocker and let it fall once, sighing and pulling the darkness towards him. It folded and caressed him, clouding the Silent Ones behind him as they passed the body of Lazlo to him before flickering into the Far Veil. Astos crossed his fingers and hoped someone reasonable would listen.
The next morning the quite air was serene and still. The monks woke earlier than most and went about daily activities. Kin sat on a bench watching them. Everything about them seemed deliberate. No wasted energy, only progress. From the moment they woke, they dedicated themselves to whatever they set out to do. There was an air of scholasticism. Each individual taught and learned openly. Out in the courtyard, many of the monks practiced fighting.
One of the old approached him, giving a low bow and inviting him to join them.
"You guys have a week, then Im out..." He said reluctantly. As much as he admired them, he felt as though it wasn't his place. Anastasia leaned against a pillar next to where O Father sat and watched as Nicholaus took to the open ring. A younger monk approached and bowed. Kin returned it. And they took a fighting stance, though Kins seemed hardly technique based and was more akin to a street brawlers. He aimed a swing at the monk who promptly dodged, and followed up with another with equal results. Through a combination of blocks and dodges the monk remained untouched.
Anastasia shook her head. "You are faster than that."
He broke from his stance and turned to face her. "And I suppose you can do bet-" He was cut of by a roundhouse kick from the monk. Ana only laughed.
"Focus now Nick."
O Father chuckled. "Perhaps if Hyru kicks him enough, it will jog his memory?"
Kin stood back up, scoffing at them, then turning to see the monk standing there, still as a statue, swaying only slightly with the wind, like he was feeling it out.
Ana leaned over to O Father. "Does the young monk know any magic or is he..."
"He walks our path."
"I see.."
Kin came at him again. He could hear Ana shout "Think like a fighter would, you used to be the best at that..."
Kin only felt a punch of his get deflected, and somehow the monks open palm slid through his defense like a serpent. He was suddenly face to face with the mans hand, it hovering only a few inches from his chest. They froze for a moment in that position. Then without warning, the inexplicable happened. An unseen force came from Hyru the monks hand and sent Kin onto his back. He scrambled to his feet, bewildered.
"What the hell was that?"
"Just something to jog your memory." Ana smirked. Some part of her enjoyed watching this arrogant foolish boy get toyed with in an arena. She knew he would never be able to win until he was himself again.
"Why did it feel familiar?"
O father spoke up. "Nicholaus, that was the very move you taught Hyru many years ago. Now, again!"
Kin attacked again this time with equally unsavory results. Eventually he managed to deflect a blow, with which Hyru responded by spinning and aiming a kick in mid air. Kin tried to step out of reach and for a split second seemed to have done so. He even could have sworn he saw the foot miss him by a foot. And yet, it was as if it hit him, putting a solid impact into his gut. As he recovered, the monk gracefully rose onto one foot, the other against his knee, his arms outstretched. He furled them inward in an almost dance like fashion. Then as if there were an invisible opponent in front of him, he struck out into the air. Kin suddenly felt a force hit him in his ribs.
"What kind of magic is it?"
O father chuckled. "None, for it is not to be used like any school of magic on this or any other earth."
Ana stepped forward. "A long long time ago, a group of monks discovered an untapped into source of energy. To this day they still do not have a name for it, but it is more pliable and more flexible than any magic we know of, and far more potent. But it takes a life time to truly tap into and understand." Hyru spoke.
"Fortunately for you, you have had three lifetimes to learn it..."
O Father clarified. "It isnt of the light or the darkness or anything conventionally between them. It is even a mystery to Silas Grey, though rumor has it, he learned it too. It is a power that lends itself, but cannot be controlled. It is what has given you such an edge in earlier conflicts, along with what was once an uncanny understanding of the mind."
Ryan and Kishima opened the gate and entered the Palace. Kishima stopped and looked around. It was immense, but it seemed empty, so he called out.
"Hello, me and Ryan just arrived. Anyone here?" he waited nervously for an answer. He looked at Ryan and said, "I don't like this, be ready for anything."
Darkness folded and flexed near the open gates. Astos had done his best to block the sight of the humans nearby but if he was going to offer himself to their service, he would have to do away with his illusions.
He took a tentative step foreward, letting the illusion masking him fall away like water. He hefted Lazlo over his shoulder and took a few steps inside, gritting as the threshold's power stripped some of his powers away. A little less potent, but still dangerous. But Astos wasn't here to be dangerous, he was here to see that his comrades on Shadow were duly punished for shaming him. He would be a thorn in their side as long as possible, as irritating as possible. He called out "Is anyone there?"
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