Above, seven figures, caped in black, sprang up, blinking into reality, surrounding the strange trio with glinting swords in hand. The seatGuards had arrived.
About time, Ivory thought, inhaling a warming air. Now you die.
And Chaos took Stone Bastion.
Fortunately, Ivory was guarded by Nail against the entropy that descended into the dark plains of Stone Bastion. Rocks were toppled, boulders shattered into dust, storms churning up within the confines of this world. Strangely, all manner of events unfolded, understandable given that most members of this battle were long above the rank of the redeemed Caster, thus had obtained Elmirans of their own; symbols that were castable without their immediate presence in observable reality.
Of course, she could see nothing of the actual motions, just the flashes of light, effects of the casted powers, and the brief releases of the mindForce. Rarely, yes, but a few of the combatants had attempted the domination of the mind, an effect inherent within the mindForce. After all, the greater one's force, the higher the chance of marshaling the mind of another.
One of the many natural effects of that force.
A vortex of water fountained out from the earth, at a distance, hardening instantly into a pillar of whitish ice. Who had done that? Unknown, given she had very little knowledge about the prowess and abilities of the SeatGuards, nor even the totality of the combatants present in this conflict.
Knowledge was power.
Nonetheless, there was one battle she was keenly attentive to: the one that turned a section of the plains into fragments. Salinor and Kabal. They charged at each other, she imagined, the muscular man, blade in hand, swinging like some depraved maniac hungry for the flesh and blood of his opponent.
Good.
Ivory could picture that eventuality. That man, heid, sprawled on the ground, torn in a million pieces, her eyes scorning and damning him to the deepest depths of damnation. That and more was the sole merit of that man.
Except… her thoughts halted.
Hmm.
I need to become stronger, she considered. I cannot observe any of this without the power to do so. It was rather annoying. But alas, that was the way of things. Without the enormous force that boosted the ocular procession of the immediate reality, she would never grasp the full scope of the battle here.
And oh, how much she wanted to see it. To observe as that man… That FOOL had a blade shoved deep into his heart.
She gritted.
I should be the one to do it!
A hand rested on her shoulder, Nail.
"What?"
"Such expressiveness is rather revealing, your Grace."
Oh? Ivory realized the clenched fist, tensed arms, and tightened shoulders she divulged to the world. A HighHeir should always maintain the stoic visage. Show emotion only when it signifies a worthwhile outcome.
A breath calmed the disquiet, eyes opening to a near reality. One beheld by softer eyes.
Just kill him for me, she mused. Kill him for Valor!
A thought drifted in on the potentiality of praying as a source of luck. Maybe I should.
Suddenly…
A stray boulder rushed towards her. She resigned. A hunk of black stone. Abrupt. Inches from her. A hand reached from her side, and the stone turned to dust. Eviscerated. Ivory sighed, knew, of course, very few people paid true attention to this 'release of hers.' Most of which was done for the benefit of Nail.
When saved, do thank your savior in one way or the other.
That should be enough.
"Isn't this a rather bootless performance?" Ivory said, eying Nail.
"Yes?"
"I understand that true Casters rarely require motion for battle, yet there they are, springing about like bugs, starved of Etium."
Nail replied simply, "Grasp that many of them are trained in the art of the Blademaster, an art designed to kill and overpower the Casters. Obviously, you cannot kill Casters by fighting as they do."
"I see." Ivory muttered. "And then there was the matter that our enemies are rather powerful as Casters!"
The earth rumbled; this time, Ivory maintained the stoic motions. Eyes staring into the distance, a facial expression to offer the illusion that she, by some means, could view the wholeness of this battle.
Which she couldn't.
When would this end?
There was a scream in the distance. Nail bucked, shrugged, and said, "One of ours is dead."
"Who killed them?"
"The one in armor."
"Hmm." Ivory overlooked a spread of dotted stones across the earth. "They can always be replaced..."
"Not always successfully." Nail corrected. "Very few individuals have the prowess required to be a SeatGuard."
Ivory scowled, an expression just for Nail. "If they were so special, then they wouldn't do something so futile as dying."
"Control yourself!" Nail voiced, face still, that canvas of utter blankness. "I understand the weight of snapping in such situations, but do pay some modicum of respect to the ones that die for you."
So I'm supposed to care for them? Ivory felt a chuckle. Even the dead ones? Respect, respect, respect… Exactly what Kabal was preaching about!
Something squirmed internally—a collective of bubbling sensations. Emotions, the misted thing. But it was coming, Ivory felt it in the tingling of her fingers, the slow chilling around the heart, and the growing emptiness of the stomach.
A surge of 'feelings' was coming.
So I'm running out of force? She noted, realizing the bottled-up pain came tiding back as the MindForce dwindled in intensity. Not that she was casting, however, the earlier burst had diminished it considerably. Dangerous.
I could always call up I AM again, Ivory thought, paused, and revised. But doing that might just enhance the information supposedly owed to him. And given the consequences today would bring, revealing something of import might be perilous. Especially, given the capricious nature of symbols… According to Argon, that is.
Ah, so annoying.
All of it was. Like a sea of claws, digging deep into the flesh, dragging, burying in its depths. I must not falter. Not now.
Something pounded into the ground, a bare meter before her. The cloud of dust rising, expanding in fuming motions. Nail edged closer, an instinct to protect the future of Valor. After all, who knew the consequences of what had been done to him?
The Crimson Rot, now that was something she knew. One of the few diseases that to date has never been cured by the Casted means. Illenna Valor had lived long with her, yet her condition was weaker than the impression this pained martyr sect gave of theirs.
Perhaps, the Storm of Valor would never again stir its winds.
Sad, really.
The smoke drifted off, and there, pinned on the ground, a chain snaked around his left arm was Ka—Heid, son of Fray. There he was, blood leaking from the mouth and flesh. Somehow, Salinor had managed to 'touch' him.
Good!
Something swelled within her, sweet, painful.
Save him… Kabal must be inside there.
She drowned that desire, knowing it as the remnants of the previous insanity. Never again.
Beside him, a slight smile present on his face was Salinor, Lord Minister of Safety. No longer was there a blade in his hands. Oh no, now grasped tightly was a single-handed axe. A rather strange design to observe. Odd. Was it some sacred Relic? Given the size of it was half the body of a man!
Ivory smiled. "Isn't this embarrassing. Utterly humiliating for you?"
He looked up, eyes, a ring of glassy white. Hair a total shade of silver, as were most Frayian BrightCrowns. He chuckled next. "Everything can be enjoyed. Even pain, as it should." He said. "I did harm you, so it's only right that you do the same to me. That is how pain should be shared. It is a truly unifying agent."
"Insanity!"
That elicited a frown from him. "People keep calling me that. Insane this, insane that. Even my father sent me to the hollow chasms on that same point. But I wonder who truly is the mad one?"
Ivory quelled the bubbling sensation. Take a breath, calm the pain. Calm the ache. "Why exactly did you infiltrate Valor, and why did you send Fermen to our domain?"
Salinor frowned.
You can kill him later, Lord Minister, Ivory thought. But I must first enjoy this pain of his. I must learn of a way to save myself from the shame of my actions.
Heid laughed. "Should I really answer all that? I'm not a MysteryWatcher, you know."
The chains around his arm buzzed. Heid dropped on all fours, writhing in pain, eyes wide, saliva spewing out from his lips. So… Ivory inhaled deeply, her head tilting upwards.
Good.
"Should I ask again?" She said.
He chuckled. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." Looking up at her. "Hightown is such a wonderful place, you know. Oh, sorry, it goes by Bolt now. A beautiful place. With the House of Black and their ravens. The merchant lords. The chaos. The pain. The countless birthing and dying of factions. Truly a place where everything can come together. There, I found a boy. A sweet, innocent Aspirant. Kabal was the name. And truly, he had thoughts. Hopes about a better future for the clans and their people."