[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fcLOwwn.png[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][h2]Summer of Love[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter One]The sun had long since set. In fact, it was due to rise in a few hours, and the Ersand'Enise that it would rise upon was vastly different from what it had been mere days before. Since then, it had turned from Stresia to Dorrad, from heavy and grim to... if not quite hopeful, then something like it; something a little closer to how those older than them reckoned young people should be. Thousands of them streamed home from Leon Solaire's concert, carefree or, in a sense, perhaps with [i]new[/i] cares. Love had won the day. Light had banished darkness. Worries and woes had been pushed aside.

In short, the Founders' Day Faire had been a success. Karan Harrachora's big gamble had paid off.

It was during this migration of the wee hours when two students in particular, however, found themselves approached. Abdel had become separated from Maura in the stir and mingle of it all and, suddenly, he felt a tug on his satchel. Whirling and ready to retaliate against a potential pickpocket, he instead found a small, rolled up parchment. It was entirely blank save for a print of the outline of a human head, without any distinguishable features. 

Not ten minutes later, his peer, Fiske, still basking in the glow of a first kiss, dropped Marceline off at the apartment she shared with friends like more of a gentleman than most thought he was. They exchanged a parting peck and then she fluttered upstairs, closing the door gently behind her, already calling out to those friends excitedly.

It was during the long walk back that he saw the masked figure standing in the alleyway. It was as he reacted that the second one appeared beside him and held out a rolled paper. He would find the exact same thing in it that Abdel had. The masks did not stick around. They disappeared. He could sense it was a matter of simple illusion - something he was well-versed in himself - but it was clear they did not wish to be followed. Fiske was left with new things to ponder. 

The fifth and final member of that young group - Rikard - was left to find the last little bit of his own way home after he and Abdel separated. He and Ayla had missed each other, for what seemed like the umpteenth time. It was a pensive kind of silence. [i]Hans,[/i] he thought, [i]and Palmela[/i]. He snorted as he reached his door and crept inside, but almost everyone was out in one way or another. Soon enough, he joined them in sleep, but he did not sleep for long.[/hider]
[i]After the roaring success of Leon's concert, a couple of students, heading back, encounter a clandestine - but perhaps not unwelcome - surprise.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]The Chapel[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Two]It was early morning as he entered the chapel. There was a girl in it, and an older woman with a veil who he knew, instinctively, to watch his words around. They were seated in the pews, the former's long blonde hair flowing down her back in the silent dimness. Dust motes swirled about in the golden rays streaming in from the stained-glass windows. The girl seemed to be in prayer, for she did not turn. The older woman seemed to make a [i]point[/i] of not doing so. Curious, he made his way towards them and sat close enough to show interest and far enough to be judicious. 

[color=662d91]"The gods may yet show you favour, young mistress. I pray you keep their names ever on your lips and it may yet subside."[/color] He tried not to butt in, but he was versed enough in sonic magic and the whisper had an urgent quality that hampered its quietness. [color=gold]"Something like this does not subside, Lady Micallef. It is both a consequence of my actions and of their will."[/color] She sat almost unmoving but for her elegant face: a perfect porcelain statue. Then, Lady Micallef's eyes darted his way and he felt like an intruder and he went back to his prayers. he remained for some time, but there was only the soft sound of the girl's prayer and the more fervent whisperings of her... servant? Her [i]keeper?[/i] He did not know. Most strangely, he caught her, out of the corner of his eye, reaching up more than once with a kerchief to dab at the girl's face. She neither particularly resisted nor assisted in her own care, likely some sort of high noble from a distant place he did not understand. She was dressed in all white, fingers clasped in front of her, threaded around a rosary. Once or twice, he could've sworn her eyes tried to find him, but they missed each other and, in any event, there was Lady Micallef to contend with. Eventually, they outlasted him. He made the sign of the Pentad, rose, and departed. It was only when he was walking about Ersand'Enise for a good long while that he realized he was in a dream.[/hider]
[i]Rikard, having gone to bed with some regrets, finds himself going to the chapel in the morning, but not all is as it seems.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Finding the Groove[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Three]He eventually rose from bed in earnest, as did a great many others. This fourth festival day was no new or purpose-built holiday but, rather, Mother's Day. At 4:25 HS, they began filtering in for a culminating assembly. On the hour, it began. Rich rewards - a great and eclectic series of magical hats - were handed out to the students. Some chose to have fabulous figures subtracted from their tuition, or private tutoring, or free use of the mighty Silk Gate that had come to dominate life in the Mercantile District. Already, the industrious Hegelans were pouring through, setting up shop, taking control of their own trade lest humans snatch it from them. Later this very day, further destinations were to open portals of their own, each traveler being sorted as they stepped through the great hub of Ersand'Enise: to Varrahasta and Torra Corda in Torragon, Civitalunga and Avince in Revidia, Solenne and Relouse in Perrence, Hetzelburg, Leidengen, Harrowend, Yabusa, Meldheim, Zewaggah, Gandakar and - following a new treaty - Karamevo and Stolizhny in distant Vossoriya. To be certain, it was an exciting time to be alive; the world seemed to transform in some new and compelling way every time that one looked up. 

Yet, there were a handful of students - mostly those who had scored too poorly to earn themselves one of the magnificent hats - who had taken, instead, small wooden boxes filled with... mystery coins. These translucent, crystalline objects sparkled with flecks of various metals, depending on just how high the student in question had scored during the faire. Some contained strong, simple iron, others reddish bronze, and still others precious silver and gold. None of the top scorers had chosen the humble boxes, of course, so if there were more denominations of these coins, they remained undiscovered to the larger student body. Of course, a handful might've noticed a striking similarity between these and what they'd earned recently out in the deserts of Xolectoxo.

[hider=Quest Unlocked: Discovering The Groove]Lunara and a handful of other students have acquired Exploits, also known as Groove Tokens. With either blind intuition or the help of Niallus' Compass of Desire, they must find where to spend these mysterious coins. Upon doing so, they will discover the secret of the Vermilion Swirl: that it is a front for The Groove and its endless possibilities.[/hider]
Following this celebration and some concluding words from the Zenith, the focus shifted, for most, to honouring their mothers. Some sent letters and gifts. Some took advantage of the new portal network, which opened to great fanfare a couple of hours later, to visit their families in person, a deed which would've been impossible but a year ago. Such was the march of innovation. Such was its spread!

Why, already, merchants were rushing to trade their ships in for stakes in new portals, and the few mages well-versed in such magics had begun charging titanic fees. Yet, there were opportunities around the edges. If many long-range routes would dry up in the coming months, short-distance ones would flourish for years until the number of trained mages grew great enough to cover every settlement of any significance. There were those who either recognized that or else were on their own quixotic quests. One of them was Ciro Volta, scion of a greatly respected mercantile family of Revidia. As many scrambled to divest from their ships, here he was [i]buying[/i] them at fire sale prices. Already, within the city, he had scooped up some 29,000 tons worth of carracks, pinnaces, and galleons and he and his partners in crime were endeavouring to procure still more.[/hider]
[i]The Founders' Day Faire wraps up with a handout of magical hats and mysterious coins. Meanwhile, students pour through portals for Mother's Day as one of them schemes.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Paranoia: Part One[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Four]Yet, it was not a banner moment for all. If Jocasta had survived the day of her poisoning by changing absolutely everything about her routine, it had been at the cost of a horror she struggled to express in words. To be [i]attacked[/i] by one of those krakens... She had been weakened and panicked and likely could have dealt with it much more easily had she not been, but it was still a deeply unsettling development and one that she would have to bring up to the Zenith upon their next meeting. The wasted day had also brought her precious little closer to finding out who had perpetrated the deed and poisoned her. While she considered that the Knowers might be involved, it did not strike her as being part of their usual modus operandi, from what little she knew. There were, to her mind, three main suspects: the church, the Dieci Volti, and the academy. Yet, there was a fourth as well: the mad avatar. That one-legged bitch walked freely about the city, a murderer of her fellow students, unpursued by the authorities. Had she decided to finish the job sneakily on Jocasta? 

The Tan-Zeno had picked out three main vulnerabilities during the day that had not been. The first had been during a brunch with six other members of the Volti. The second had involved the hedge maze, which she had good-naturedly participated in. The third and final had been her judging of the talent show. For reasons she couldn't quite fathom, she'd allowed a [i]venomhand[/i] to get close to her and she'd been stupid enough to actually accept a drink without checking it for alien substances. She shook her head at the profoundly uncharacteristic moment. She'd let her guard down and it had nearly cost her everything. Yet, there were far less dramatic explanations and, upon her travel back, she'd had Luria Colloy take over as judge. The Zeno was, unsurprisingly, fine. Briefly, she considered telling Yalen, but she felt far too guilty already for all of the trouble that she caused him. She could see him, day by day, hardening to the world because of her. She could see him becoming a weapon. It was not good to be a weapon. She'd been one her whole life and, only recently discovered how to be a human again. Yet, now circumstances required that she take up the mantle once again.

It was time to eliminate suspects. One by one.[/hider]
[i]Jocasta, shaken, begins identifying suspects in her near-death experience. She makes plans to confront them.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Paranoia: Part Two[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Five][color=d3d3d3]"If I'd wanted you dead, Veleno, it would have been instant."[/color] Argento was the speaker. He shook his head. [color=d3d3d3]"I mean no disrespect. You and I do not see eye to eye often, but I am well aware of your abilities and I respect them."[/color] He was unmoving, with his expressionless silver mask. She evaluated him and knew that he was being truthful. Argento, simply put, did not lie. [color=ffdead]"And do you have any idea?"[/color] she asked. [color=ffdead]"Any leads?"[/color]

He stood there for a long moment, the great wicked sword slung across his back glinting in the dorrad sun. He shook his head tightly. [color=d3d3d3]"I do not, but I will look. An attack against one of us is an attack against all of us."[/color] He tilted his head. [color=d3d3d3]"We [i]are[/i] all loyal to the cause, Veleno, are we not? We all stand together."[/color]

Jocasta cracked a small smile that held only the bitterest form of mirth. [color=ffdead]"I do not stand, Spada."[/color]

He let out a snort.

[color=ffdead]"But I [i]am[/i] loyal to the cause, even if I'm playing a different role now."[/color]

His mask regarded her for a moment longer, unspeaking. Then, he nodded. [color=d3d3d3]"Be safe, Veleno."[/color] They parted ways.[/hider] 
[i]Jocasta first confronts Volto Argento, gaining some insight into his way of thinking in the process.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Good Works[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Six][color=ffdead]"No one's holding a gun to your head, Greg."[/color]

He was working on another disguise. He'd already generated close to a hundred. Others were hard at work too. [color=f26522]"It pays."[/color]

Jocasta blushed slightly and looked down to where her fingers threaded and unthreaded themselves in her lap. [color=ffdead]"You know, we're not just gonna throw you to the sharks. I'll make sure you still have funds..."[/color]

[color=f26522]"'We' or 'I', Certosa?"[/color] He regarded her evenly, having stopped his work for a short while. In the background, some of the local children were hard at play. [color=bc8dbf]"And I'm right [i]sure[/i] they're gonna put one in there!"[/color] crowed Genevieve, the centre of a small flock in her wheelchair. [color=bc8dbf]"They [i]love[/i] wells. [i]Every[/i] year. I dee-double [i]guarantee[/i] it!"[/color]

Volto Certosa sighed. [color=ffdead]"Does it really matter?"[/color]

He scrunched up his nose. [color=f26522]"Kinda does, yeah."[/color]

Of course, she knew what it really was: he didn't want anyone's charity. He wanted to work for the cause he had committed himself to, but Gregoire had become the main breadwinner of his family following his father's death at Moli's Emporium last year. His desire to help the cause and his need to earn a living were in conflict. She'd been helping his family out of her own pocket on the proceeds of her portal business and the items she'd gotten from Retan. She'd sold them all to private collectors over the past couple of weeks and they'd netted a tidy profit: enough to keep Brigitte - Gregoire's sister - from becoming a 'washerwoman' and enough to pay for Genevieve's lessons in Avincian and the Gift. For the Lotti and Bruni families, she'd done what she could. [color=ffdead]"They recognize your contribution, you know,"[/color] she promised. [color=ffdead]"They know you need to make ends meet, though."[/color] She took a small coinpurse from the satchel slung across the back of her wheelchair and handed it to him. It hung there awkwardly for a moment. [color=ffdead]"Honest pay for honest work. You're an asset, Greg, and I mean it."[/color]

It lingered there in the space between them for a moment that stretched on into the uncomfortable, and a handful of the younger children saw it. [color=f26522]"Thanks."[/color] He snatched it up with an abbreviated motion and stuffed it into a work satchel. [color=f26522]"But stop funding me out of your own pocket. You're gonna make yourself poor."[/color]

Was she surprised that he knew? Perhaps less than she'd thought. Gregoire, one desperate incident from last year aside, was not a stupid boy. Jocasta shrugged. With what had happened during her last attempt to travel via portal, with the marks that still stained her midsection, she found a growing uncertainty about her financial future gnawing at her. At least she'd gotten Yalen's land back. Ingrid had enough. At least she'd been able to flip the trinkets from Retan for a handsome sum. Maura and the others had enough, though it would probably [i]never[/i] be enough for their ilk. [color=ffdead]"I have my ways,"[/color] she assured him, [color=ffdead]"and I can afford to be a little less rich. The rich kids can afford it too, not that they'll ever freely agree."[/color]

He was back at work on the disguise. This one was about human-sized. [color=f26522]"Oh, so you [i]make[/i] them?"[/color]

She grinned. :DeviousJocasta: [color=ffdead]"It's worth it for the dirty looks they give me."[/color] She held back a slight giggle. [color=ffdead]"You should see how red in the face some of them get."[/color]

Gregoire rolled his eyes. [color=f26522]"I'd forgotten how cool you were."[/color]

Jocasta opened her mouth to reply. [color=ffdead]"Only the -"[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]"But she [i]is[/i] cool!"[/color] chirped a small voice from behind. Genevieve had rolled up quietly and now threw her arms around Jocasta from nearly behind. [color=ffdead]"Like a cucumber,"[/color] Jocasta agreed, but the child - all of eleven - only looked puzzled. [color=bc8dbf]"Why a cucumber?"[/color] she prodded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. [color=bc8dbf]"Is it some kinda..."[/color]

Jocasta hadn't even though of that! It was just an idiom. [color=ffdead]"Nononononoo!"[/color] she blurted. [color=ffdead]"Nothing like that. It's just an expression."[/color]

Genevieve gave her a dubious look. Gregoire glanced her way as if to say, 'you're on your own.' Thankfully, however, the girl was easily distracted. [color=bc8dbf]"aaaaannnnnnyway, I didn't come here for that."[/color] She began tugging Jocasta by the arm. [color=bc8dbf]"[i]They[/i] say - even Lisette - that any of them can beat me easy in a race 'cause I ain't got no legs."[/color]

The older girl allowed herself to be pulled along in the enthusiastic wake of the younger, keeping them both on a straight course with her free hand. [color=ffdead]"Legs... kind of help, Gennie. That's just the truth of it. Take it from a fellow cripple."[/color]

The kid twisted and shot her a look. [color=bc8dbf]"Well [i]durr[/i], but I got magic, right? I catch a good downhill and I figure I can smoke 'em, at least the slower ones."[/color]

In theory, it was possible, especially over longer distances as the bipeds wore out. Genevieve was looking her way hopefully, for some sort of confirmation that it [i]was[/i]. [color=ffdead]"Have you ever tried before?"[/color] Jocasta asked, and the girl shrugged, lifting her other hand from her wheel and wavering it in a 'kind of' gesture. [color=bc8dbf]"Like a little, yeah."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Then you should already be familiar with your greatest enemy, right?"[/color]

Genevieve considered. [color=bc8dbf]"Ya mean them stupid flagstones?"[/color] Jocasta nodded. [color=ffdead]"Bingo."[/color] She pulled her hand free. Why were kids' hands always sweaty and gross? [color=ffdead]"You hit one of those going fast, you learn how to fly... at least for a few seconds."[/color]

The eleven-year-old turned on the spot. [color=bc8dbf]"Then teach me your ways?"[/color] she asked sweetly. Jocasta really didn't have the time to. She pursed her lips. The sweet look only became more obnoxious. [color=bc8dbf]"[i]Please[/i], Tantie Jo?"[/color]

Jocasta recoiled. [color=ffdead]"Oh my Eshi. Only if you [i]never[/i] call me that again."[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]"Okay, Tantie Jo!"[/color] She stuck her tongue out.

[color=ffdead]"You little fucker..."[/color]

Genevieve clamped her hands over her mouth and widened her eyes in horror. [color=bc8dbf]"Ya just upped and swore in front of an innocent child!"[/color] she cried.

[color=ffdead]"Nothin' innocent about you,"[/color] Jocasta grumbled. Genevieve grinned, but the the smiled faded. [color=bc8dbf]"Kinda hard to be, ya know, growin' up 'round here."[/color] She wrapped her arms around herself and Jocasta frowned. Lisette was skipping over from nearby. Jocasta forced a smile. [color=fff79a]"But I like you just the way you are, okay?"[/color]

Genevieve regarded her with something between earnestness and dubiousness, undecided as befit an eleven-year-old. [color=bc8dbf]"Geez Louise,"[/color] she mumbled as Jocasta took out a couple of coins and pressed them into her hands. She glanced over her shoulder at her sister. [color=ffdead]"Go get yourself and Lisette some Ice Cream at that new place, huh?"[/color] The girl's eyes widened. [color=bc8dbf][i]"Seriously?"[/i][/color]

Jocasta nodded. Lisette arrived. [color=f6989d]"Heya Tantie Jo!"[/color] she called, and Genevieve started. [color=bc8dbf]"Gods no!"[/color] she cried, [color=bc8dbf]"Don't call her that or she'll like..."[/color]

Lisette came to a stop, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She quirked an eyebrow. [color=f6989d]"Hey! Where'd she go?"[/color] Both girls cast about for the next few seconds, but Jocasta was nowhere to be found. [color=bc8dbf]"Looks like you made her disappear,"[/color] the younger one half-joked. The older sister snorted. [color=f6989d]"So, what were you talking about anyway?"[/color]

Genevieve shrugged. [color=bc8dbf]"Ya know, just non-biped stuff."[/color]

Lisette scrunched up her nose, noticing how her sister had kept her right hand closed the entire time, despite that making it harder for her to move. [color=f6989d]"And?"[/color]

Genevieve shrugged innocently, twisting on the spot one last time to look for Jocasta and failing to find her. [color=bc8dbf]"And?"[/color]

Lisette rolled her eyes. [color=f6989d]"And what'd she give you, that you're hiding right there in your hand?"[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]"Oh!"[/color] chirped the younger sister, [color=bc8dbf]"That's just my ice cream money. She said we should go visit the Creamery."[/color] She let loose an enormous grin and held it out for Lisette to see.[/hider]
[i]Jocasta visits with Gregoire and Genevieve, two victims of student carelessness last year. She donates what she can to them while trying not to patronize.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Paranoia: Part Three[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Seven]But there were two sides to Jocasta. There had always been. If it was not Argento, then it was one of the others. She turned her attention next to Juulet: the Mad Avatar. How appropriate that she was eating ice cream. The attack was sudden and it was overwhelming. Juulet's extremities stiffened and her chest tightened and then came the [i]pain[/i]. It was as if a demon had reached inside of her and just decided to [i]crush[/i].

Her bowl of ice cream fell onto her clenched leg, an unfortunate waste, as she remained paralyzed and was unable to scream. The agony clouded her already very hazy mind, leaving her with little [i]time[/i] to react. Time ... That was it. That was all she needed. [color=8B008B]“Mo-ther-”[/color] she drew until she had emptied her immediate surroundings from matter and energy, leaving only a cold and desolate space. [color=8B008B]“Fucker!”[/color] Then, time stopped, and then it reversed back to a few seconds. Her body was intact, the pain was gone, but she remembered it all. 

Riddled with cold sweats, she immediately began to dart in random spots in the city in an attempt to find the culprit. There wasn't even a second between each interval. She appeared, sensed, and then moved to some other location within Ersand'Enise. Until she found a familiar and deeply unpleasant presence. 

[color=6495ED]“~Found you~”[/color]

Just as she appeared right before Jocasta, her palm was descending upon the blonde girl with her fingers hooked as if she was about to seize the Tethered's head and rip it clean off. Her mouth was agape and her purple eyes burning with a lust for revenge. 

At first, it encountered something that felt right, but then that faded and became - if not [i]in[/i]corporeal, then [i]less[/i] so. The decoy fairly exploded and there was Jocasta, just off to the side. [color=ffdead]"I thought that'd get your attention, you cunt."[/color] She was already drawing in colossal amounts of energy. [color=ffdead]"Why'd you try to kill me?"[/color] she snarled. [color=ffdead]"Yesterday, before I went back and undid your little mess!"[/color] 

Emerging from a time right after the explosion, Juulet was as unscathed as Jocasta as they stared each other down. [color=6495ED]“Yesterday.”[/color] she repeated. [color=6495ED]“Yesterday, yesterday, yesssterday ...”[/color] she tapped her chin, and then shrugged. [color=8B008B]“Rings no bells. Must've been me after this fight. So, that means I failed, which then means I gotta avenge myself now, right?”[/color] she unleashed a sequence of piggish snorts and snickers before concentrating a ball of intense heat onto the centre of her palm. What was first a flame then became a ball of plasma with how dense and massive the energetic generation was. [color=FF8C00]“I usually know better than to make a big, fat, fucking mess. But for you, little Yanii slut, I'll make an exception.”[/color] that ball was going to explode. Likely none of the two would suffer the consequences, but the surroundings would. 

And there it was: a gut check moment. This crazy bitch didn't care one iota about the others she'd hurt. Jocasta did. That meant using temporal magic. That meant inviting [i]them[/i] to attack. She hesitated. She never would've hesitated before. She began drawing the energy from that ball: drawing with all of her might. If it was a tug-of-war, then she could surely win it!

[color=8B008B]“HAHAHAHAHA!”[/color] maniacally laughed the Yasoi. [color=8B008B]“That's right little Tan-Zeno! Save the day! Flex your overwhelming power!”[/color]

Juulet continued to tug, and tug and tug some more by consistently feeding the small sun in her hand. Jocasta was going to win, that much was obvious, but she had learned something during the stupid faire games she played in: Tug-of-war SUCKS. Suddenly, she 'let go', prematurely causing the orb to pop in a far less powerful explosion. Actually, it barely did any damage, but it was discombobulating, and Jocasta's focus on a singular, massive force had to instantly be spread into a wide net. It was meant to be overwhelming, and an opening.

The Mad Avatar then did something no mage should choose to do: She went into melee range with a singular, monstrously fast dash with her fist going for an uppercut under Jocasta's chin. [color=8B008B]“Up 'n' at 'em!”[/color]

Jocasta saved lives, but she neglected to save herself. It was instinct. She reached out and slowed time and only the awkward angle of the punch - trying to uppercut someone sitting while being a six-foot yasoi - saved her. She rocketed back, she sensed the knower, and its black tendrils reached for her. Then it was real-time and she was safe from it - but not from Juulet. The first punch missed, but she came down in a double hammer-fist that drove Jocasta [i]into[/i] the ground. 

She resisted with all of her strength. Dirt and stones bit against her body. Her dress and skin shredded and she was certain that bones in her legs snapped, though she could not feel it. Why had she [i]attacked!?[/i] Had she expected a denial? On some level, perhaps, she had. She was drawing, though, the entire time, about to swing desperate defense into cataclysmic offense. She took every ounce of her magic and drove it like a needle into Juulet's brain, stimulating every pain receptor that the yasoi had as much as a sentient being could possibly handle. [color=ffdead]"You talk too much!"[/color] she roared. [color=ffdead]"Just answer the question: would you just go after me out of the blue? Would you kill with poison!?"[/color] She cranked it up higher, eyes wide and bulging with focus and fury.

Was she seeing things? The very entity that sought to consume Jocasta was also observed by the temporal mage that assaulted her. She wondered if she was seeing things, if the withdrawal was getting too high, or ... [color=8B008B][i]Chemical Magic, FUCK![/i][/color]

Once again, Juulet found herself unmoving. This time, it wasn't her limbs that were stuck, but her mind and will! Chemical magic, and more potent than anything she had faced. The frenzied Yasoi growled, and then drooled, until her mouth foamed. [color=FF8C00]“POOOOIIIISSSSOOOONNNN!”[/color] she barely articulated, eyes rolled back and muscles tensed from the extraordinary effort she was putting to fight back. Slowly, her already balled fist rose up, and then smashed down onto the ground below her. 

A wave of electricity reverberated through her body and then sunk into the ground. Her neurons were purged of any anomalies - her chemical integrity reset, in a sense. [color=FF8C00]“Is for cowards! You bloated rat!”[/color] she rapidly spat back! Then came the compress space, right into Jocasta's frame. It wasn't going to kill her, but she just wanted to see that tick pop in a mist of red at least once for relief. 

Then, Juulet sighed. [color=DA70D6]“Randomly? Definitely. There ain't no Yanii-honour bullshit where I'm from.”[/color] the same electrical current that had purged her of her ailment once again flowed through her, causing sparks to flicker around her and static to permeate the air. [color=DA70D6]“I'd kill you with my own, fucking hands around your neck, whore.”[/color]

One second, Jocasta's midriff was there. The next, it was gone, and so was she. Two seconds back, the tentacles slipping through, grabbing her, burning to the touch, and then she was throwing herself to the side and avoiding the deadly attack. Black tendrils licked at the edges of reality before disappearing. [color=ffdead]"You see them, don't you?"[/color] Jocasta barked. [color=ffdead]"Knowers, if an intellectual pygmy like you knows what those are, and they're coming for all of us who like our magics a little spicy."[/color] She shook her head. [color=ffdead]"You're a fucking cuntmuffin, for sure, but it wasn't you."[/color] She scowled. [color=ffdead]"Sorry for trying to kill you."[/color] She glanced down at her bloodied, broken legs. [color=ffdead]"I figure we're about even."[/color] 

As she spoke, she gathered from her surroundings, cooling the air to frost point, causing plants to wither and the wind to still.

This time Juulet saw it for real, even as she was consistently cleansing herself. Her eyebrow twitched and her teeth ground. [color=8B008B]“Fuck off!”[/color] she growled, not at Jocasta, but where the monster 'was' in the pocket between times. Although strangely enough, it never seemed to even glance at her direction. Not that it didn't unnerve her any more or less.

[color=8B008B]“Tch.”[/color] Juulet spat by her singular foot. The electricity in the air had been toned down to barely noticeable static. [color=8B008B]“I don't know what the fuck you did,”[/color] she pointed her finger in an accusatory manner and wagged it. [color=8B008B]“but I had no problems until you showed up. If you ruined everything for being an inept Yanii! --”[/color] she aggressively drew like she had done when first assaulted, but then she stopped. Something had hit her. [color=8B008B]“We're not even.”[/color] she petulantly commented. [color=8B008B]“I am going to beat the shit out of you, fucko.”[/color]

And then, she once again glanced at the spot she had noticed the Knower. There was clear fear and concern in her body language. [color=8B008B]“But not here. Not with [i]that[/i] around.”[/color] With a small hop, she took the air. A comfortable breeze passed by, letting her medium-length hair fly with it. [color=8B008B]“When my work's done.”[/color] she finger gunned, then peered upwards. [color=6495ED]“Besides, causing a ruckus when the beasts are out is a bit too crazy, even for me.”[/color] One could not see them in the middle of the day, but the five moons shone upon both women all the same. Juulet smirked, and then retreated to her temporary quarters.

Jocasta began to heal herself. [color=ffdead][i]Two down. One to go.[/i][/color] Then, she remembered Zarina.[/hider]
[i]A brazen attack on Juulet results in a second clash with a familiar foe. Some things are resolved. Some [b]aren't[/b].[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Lovers and Letters[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Eight]Fortunately, Zarina had already remembered herself. The crisis about to be unleashed by Jocasta's newfound reticence to travel through space and time was averted for another month, at least in theory. For that, Ersand'Enise had Miret'thilan'dichora to thank. In one perfect night - one festival of love where the two of them were but one of many couples - she had made the Virangishwoman accept herself in a way that no person or thing had before. They had known love, together, and it had been beautiful, enough so that Zarina had placed her well-being in the yasoi's hands and dipped into her meagre personal stash of plushtail oil to prevent the painful and dangerous transformation that would've seized her otherwise. 

Yet, few were those who'd known anything about it and, worse, still, she had awoken to an empty bed, the other side cold and unoccupied. Fortunately, there was a letter:

[indent][i]Dear Zarina,

Please don't freak out too much when you find my side of the bed empty. I'm not running away. I like you. My country has called me to join their crusade, though, and it's not a call that I can ignore. Mostly, they want Tyrel to make an appearance and show the Constantians that the gods are on our side because my cousin is, apparently, a living deity. I don't imagine I'll be more than a couple of days. Then, hopefully, we get to team up in the Trials! Stay safe and happy until I'm back.

Love,
Miret[/i][/indent][/hider]
[i]Zarina wakes up to an empty bed, but her new lover hasn't necessarily fled in the traditional sense.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Espionage[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Nine]However, she and her cousin were far from the only people headed to Tanso where, just the day prior, the Grey Fleet had made landfall. The Academy had sent its own investigators, and now they observed from a vantage point that they hoped was safe. The Tantians surely could sense them, but they were counting on good grace here. The yasoi would not be so brazen as to outright attack representatives of Ersand'Enise.

[color=f7941d]"Whatever that thing was,"[/color] Sienna Afraval was saying, [color=f7941d]"I sincerely doubt we've seen the last of it."[/color] Dressed in simple browns and greens instead of her usual finery, she took a sip from her canteen and scowled, shaking her head. [color=f7941d]"That should be our priority."[/color]

[color=000000]"Karan blasted it easily enough,"[/color] replied Fades-in-Moonlight. [color=000000]"I wouldn't be all [i]that[/i] worried."[/color] She shrugged and drank as well, though it may not have been water in [i]her[/i] flask.

[color=ec008c]"Not [i]ourselves[/i] we should be worried for,"[/color] remarked Joao Fabio, crouching right at the edge of the promontory. He took a moment to push his glasses up. It was, in theory, the illusion that he was maintaining that kept them hidden. [color=ec008c]"Few's the number who've got an Arch-Zeno in their pocket."[/color]

[color=OrangeRed]"I don't want to be anywhere [i]near[/i] your pocket, Fabio."[/color]

A couple of them grinned. [color=ec008c]"Figuratively, boss."[/color]

The Arch-Zeno nodded grimly. [color=OrangeRed]"Regardless, we'll be looking into it upon our return. A couple of our Tan-Zenos have reported similar encounters. They were lucky to escape with their lives."[/color]

Luna regarded him steadily for a moment, her query unspoken but close to an accusation: [i]Then why did we come here in the first place, uninformed, if you knew of the danger?[/i]

It was blustery up on the cliffs, the palms and ficuses swaying in a stiff wind, the waves crashing against the castle-like hulls of the increasingly impressive Grey Fleet Complex down below. Inland, they knew that a reckoning was taking place under Tantian law, woe betide anyone who crossed it. Dragons darted and wheeled in the distance. Sea Serpents poked their heads out from the water. None of the Zenos could quite place it, but there was something unnatural about how the animals moved: they were well-trained to the point of being uncanny. Even riderless, they patrolled in perfect lines and sequence, straying only if they perceived a threat, almost... [i]disciplined[/i].

[color=f7941d]"Any human encounters?"[/color] asked Sienna, and her superior shook his head. [color=ec008c]"Then I say it's not really our business to be here,"[/color] Zeno Fabio opined. [color=ec008c]"We've learned what we can without poking the bear, right?"[/color]

[color=OrangeRed]"Luna?"[/color]

She scowled. [color=000000]"They've set up a sort of base a few miles inland. They're dispensing aid and 'justice' from it in equal measure."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Casualties?"[/color]

She nodded. [color=000000]"Crucifixions in the town square, plaques hung around their necks. Seems to be three or four messages repeating. It's yasoi, so I can't read it."[/color]

[color=OrangeRed]"User, dealer, pirate, thug."[/color] The Arch-Zeno remarked quietly. [color=OrangeRed]"I know a bit about how they operate."[/color]

The others regarded him with wary respect. [color=OrangeRed]"And I have access to intel that you don't."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Incoming,"[/color] Joao interrupted calmly. There was one of those dragons circling overhead now. By its movements, it was clear that the beast knew something was present without being aware of their precise location. Presently, it let out a shriek and a couple more began to make their way over. [color=000000]"Those things aren't natural,"[/color] Luna decided, and Sienna shook her head in agreement. [color=f7941d]"That our cue to leave?"[/color] she asked.

Arch-Zeno Harrachora nodded. [color=OrangeRed]"Yup,"[/color] he confirmed. [color=OrangeRed]"No need to provoke an international incident."[/color] With uncanny speed, he had a portal up. He hadn't even seemed to focus. He hadn't even seemed to draw. [color=OrangeRed]"Stick together,"[/color] he warned, [color=OrangeRed]"Eyes open for more of those tendril beasts."[/color]

From one of the dragons came a blast of fire - they now knew where their quarry was - but it was easily scooped up and dissipated by Zeno Afraval. Fabio maintained the illusion right to the very end. Then, they were gone. The waves crashed, the palms swayed, and dragons circled under a sweltering grey sky.[/hider]
[i]A team of faculty from the Academy, led by Arch-Zeno Harrachora, conducts surveillance on the Grey Fleet. What they encounter leaves them uneasy.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]A Covenant[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Ten][color=a9a9a9][color=696969]"You think they've done it?"[/color] The voice emerged from the bubble of silence they found themselves in though, all about them, was sound and motion. 

Sister Cadence, petite and shapely, perked up. [color=7bcdc8]"Done what, brother Ashe?"[/color]

He was leaning against a post at the entrance to a sidestreet though, in truth, most streets in Mudville could be regarded as such. [color=696969]"Killed the little witch."[/color] People hustled to and fro in the background, carrying things, hawking wares, shouting slogans. The sounds of construction poured in from the west. Most people seemed to be going that way.

[color=FAF0E6]"I should hope so,"[/color] declared Brother Wolfe. [color=FAF0E6]"She's an unholy enough creature to have died a dozen times over."[/color]

[color=FFFACD]"And [i]they[/i] are not?"[/color] challenged Sister Lumen, intense as always. [color=FFFACD]"Wretches and murderers, the entire lot. Rezaindians,"[/color] she spat.

[color=4682B4]"What about Rezaindians?"[/color] grumbled Brother Flint, more interested in some of the nearby construction. While most of it was housing and a nearly-finished emporium, there was a platform being assembled in the square for candidates' debates. 

[color=FAF0E6]"Do not we kill as well, sister?"[/color]

[color=696969]"But we're not loonies, Brother Wolfe, are we?"[/color] teased Brother Ashe.

[color=7bcdc8]"Nope!"[/color] chirped Sister Cadence cheerily, [color=7bcdc8]"We're just mercenaries from another plane!"[/color]

With that, Lumen rounded on her. [color=FFFACD]"We are not mercenaries, [i]sister[/i]! We are doing the sacred work of the Pentad, picking up where our predecessors fell -"[/color] She made the Sign of the Pentad quickly [color=FFFACD]"- and cleaning up the mess those madmen are sure to leave."[/color]

[color=4682B4]"Honestly, I think they've been pretty clinical."[/color] Brother Flint shrugged. A cart with signs passed by a group of men arguing on the opposite street corner. Some used proper words. Others eschewed them for the sake of the illiterate. That could be applied to both the signs and the men, Brother Ashe thought wryly. [color=696969]"Well, if they can finish the job from last year,"[/color] he remarked, making a brief and somewhat irreverent Sign of the Pentad, [color=696969]"Then all the more power to them."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Amen to that, Brother Ashe."[/color] They all nodded.

[b]"Althofen for business!"[/b] chanted a group perched on a wagon as it clattered by. [b]"Althofen for progress!"[/b] They were handing out loaves of bread, and how others flocked their way! [color=FAF0E6]"Bread,"[/color] murmured Brother Wolfe, [color=FAF0E6]"and circuses."[/color] He scowled. A singing troupe extolled the virtues of one Eloise de Bouvier with a catchy jingle. 

[color=FFFACD]"We complete this task for the Holy Mother, we return to our plane,"[/color] prodded Sister Lumen, [color=FFFACD]"Correct?"[/color]

Ashe and Wolfe nodded. [color=7bcdc8]"Truly, I should pray so,"[/color] Cadence agreed. [color=7bcdc8]"I still struggle to imagine how our predecessors failed."[/color]

[color=4682B4]"All power,"[/color] grunted Brother Flint, [color=4682B4]"No brains."[/color] He shook his head as supporters of Luciana Ambrosini marched through the square with their armbands, banners, and slogans. [color=4682B4]"Tried to match the Academy for strength."[/color] He shook his head. [color=4682B4]"You don't do that."[/color]

[color=696969]"Well, you don't do it and [i]win[/i],"[/color] clarified Ashe, and Flint shrugged, biting into his loaf of bread. Cadence, meanwhile, seemed to be tearing hers strategically, turning it into some form of art piece. Wolfe and Lumen had given theirs away. Ashe was tossing his up and down absently.

[color=FAF0E6]"Remember brothers, sisters,"[/color] their leader addressed them, [color=FAF0E6]"We are not here for a goal so small and petty as sending someone deserving to Lady Eshiran."[/color] He bowed his head momentarily and kissed his rosary. [color=FAF0E6]"That is worthy work, to be sure, but we are here for something greater. The fate of the world may depend on our actions."[/color]

[color=FFFACD]"Of [i]this[/i] world,"[/color] corrected Sister Lumen. 

[color=7bcdc8]"Just so, Sister,"[/color] agreed Cadence, and the two women exchanged a nod.

[color=696969]"I wouldn't be so certain,"[/color] countered Ashe quietly, as another wagon rumbled by with flags and sugar buns: Domenico de Fiori. He stepped forward eagerly to take one, biting into it as he returned. [color=696969]"I venture most worlds have run afoul of those tentacled demons. I venture most are in danger."[/color]

[color=4682B4]"Gods are greater than demons,"[/color] declared Brother Flint gruffly, returning with a sugar bun of his own. This, he bit into with gusto. [color=FFFACD]"Yet men so often side with demons,"[/color] lamented Sister Lumen.

[color=7bcdc8]"We shall turn them, sister. Have faith."[/color]

It appeared that Lumen could not resist the sugar buns either. She had gone out to take one but, when she returned, she handed it to Flint, who grunted a thanks and began eating. [color=FFFACD]"Faith is one thing I do not lack,"[/color] she replied. 

[color=FAF0E6]"But it must be paired and tempered with good sense,"[/color] Wolfe advised. [color=FAF0E6]"And a willingness to do what is necessary. We stay focused on our goals, we do not create unnecessary commotion, and we complete the task."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"And then we go back home!"[/color] Cadence added cheerily. [color=696969]"Conquering heroes,"[/color] snorted Brother Ashe, [color=696969]"Though none shall sing of our deeds."[/color]

[color=FAF0E6]"Such is the blessing we bear, brother,"[/color] replied Wolfe. [color=FAF0E6]"I accept it."[/color]

Lumen looked his way and bowed her head. [color=FFFACD]"I accept it."[/color]

Flint followed, finished licking his fingers, face serious. [color=4682B4]"I accept it."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"I accept it,"[/color] declared Cadence solemnly, small and beautiful and determined.

Eyes turned to Brother Ashe. Long white hair spilled from either side of his hood. He released a lingering breath. [color=696969]"I accept it."[/color][/color][/hider]
[i]Covenant, supposedly deceased, seem to have returned a year later, but they may not be on the same mission as before...[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Radiant[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Eleven]She stood there, naked as the gods had made her, before a floor-to-ceiling mirror, but her body was not her own. Fingertips and brushes traced cool, delicate lines up and down it. She was becoming not Tyrel'yrash, but a work of art: the goddess. 

Black and gold on pale white, they snaked up and down her arms, branched across her shoulders and back, and swirled about her breasts. She counseled herself not to start when the cold paint touched her skin. Not only was it undignified for a living goddess, but it would interrupt their work. A flock of five, the Ishpax'oiya fluttered about her, undertaking their work in reverent silence. [b]"A little to the left, I beg you, goddess."[/b] Wordlessly, slowly, so as not to disturb any of their work, she followed the instruction. They drew back as one, as if the great creature they had landed on had shifted in the savannah heat. Then, when she stilled, they fluttered back. 

[b]"Chin up, I beg your radiance."[/b]

She did as they asked, and they continued about their work. Chad and Miret, she knew, were already being dressed. She could feel the bodypaint of the temporary tetsoi drying, tightening on her skin. Then, it would be her turn. Presently, two were crouching, working on her leg. Another was steward of the paints. A fourth had started styling her hair. It had already been washed and perfumed, just like the rest of her. Absently, Tyrel stared at the reflection in the mirror, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around herself. How many hours of work that would undo! Intricate, delicate, exquisite: hundreds of lines and symbols, from gossamer to ribbon, covered her. How had she ended up so special, so [i]blessed[/i]? Not daring to move more than incrementally, she made the Sign of the Pentad in her mind's eye, hoping that it would suffice for the Gods. Was she not one of them, though? Certainly, she did not [i]feel[/i] as if she were, and that was - perhaps - most true. She was a vessel: a [i]potential[/i] goddess should she live for six more years. [color=98FB98][i]Spare me, Damy, so that we might finally be reconciled,[/i][/color] she prayed inside of her head, but then there was Chad and she loved him and he followed hot on the heels of any profession towards some distant god, shaming her. 

Fingers slid up the inside of her thigh and a pulse washed through her. There was something perverse about this, she felt, regarding the studied, focused gaze of the Ishpax'oiya who had caused the offense. He was completely immersed in his art and she decided, perhaps, that the problem was her. [b]"I beg you close your eyes, goddess,"[/b] asked one of the others, softly. She was not more than a year or two Tyrel's senior and they might've been able to speak as peers had they known each other. In any event, the world went dark and she had to use chemical magic to counter her instinctual flinching and blinking as the girl worked on her eyelids and orbits. 

The brushes came now with some more surprise, robbed as she was of her sight for the time being. Without meaning to, she twitched when the cold paint met suddenly with her stump. There was no admonishment - not for a goddess - only the clatter of a brush, the scratch of footsteps on the wooden floor and, a little bit later, a warm cloth rubbing gently at the end of the truncated limb. The second time, she was prepared and did not kick. They continued to work in whispers and silence and paint and she found herself attuned more with sound, with scent, and with energy than with sight. She had known a boy, once - Tyshan - who had become a powergazer. She had always marveled at the ease with which he navigated his world. Perhaps [i]this[/i] was his secret. 

No sooner had she begun reflecting on this idea than she was bade to open her eyes. This was only the third time she had worn full-body tetsoi, and they were immensely more detailed and intricate than what most others could afford. The cost, of course, was not her own to bear. [color=98FB98]"May I shift?"[/color] she asked, and the two Ishpax'oiya in front of her nodded. Turning on the spot, she took a few moments to admire their work, as the pair who had been at her hair stepped back. She could not see their eyes for the veils that obscured them, but she could sense the anticipation in their body language. She smiled to reassure them. [color=98FB98]"You have made me beautiful,"[/color] she declared, in the formal speech she would use in this role as Vyshta's living avatar. [color=98FB98]"Be blessed."[/color] They lined up before her and, one by one, lifted their veils as she took their paints upon her fingertips and drew a simple fulcrum on the forehead of each. Bowing before her, taking care never to turn their backs, three began to leave the room. The two hairstylists, however, remained, and set about their work with renewed vigor. [b]"Does her radiance wish for a drink?"[/b] asked the young one - the one with red hair. Tyrel had seen her face and it looked so very much like Thatra's, from years ago, that she was tempted to ask if they might be related. She shook her head to clear the stray thought and the Ishpax'oiya took that as answer. She dared not correct herself now. [color=98FB98][i]Well done, goddess.[/i][/color]

It took another half-hour for her hair to take shape: an intricate tapestry of braids and thatches and long, flowing extensions. A golden crown - or perhaps more of a laurel, of sorts - was woven through it. Its braids looped about her ears and earrings, its ends brushed past her waist, and the entirety of it made her look so much larger - so much [i]greater[/i] - than the willowy girl she was. 

Then, there were loud, businesslike footsteps in the hall and the door swung open. Tyrel pivoted on the ball of her foot. There was a man standing before her, twice or three times her age, resplendent in a crisp general's uniform, his epaulettes, medals, and ribbons shining under the light that streamed in through the room's three tall windows. He bowed. [color=9e0b0f]"My Lady Avatar."[/color]

[i]She[/i] bowed. [color=98FB98]"General."[/color] She straightened, starting to feel the strain of standing for nearly two hours without her crutches. [color=98FB98]"Forgive my ignorance, for we have not met."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]"Acharo'hymax'iista,"[/color] he responded promptly.

[color=98FB98]"Tyrel'yrash'dichora."[/color]

[color=9e0b0f]"It is an honour to be properly introduced."[/color]

[color=98FB98]"As you say, General Iista."[/color] He had not come here for a social call, however. That much, she knew. Even as they spoke, she could feel his eyes on her: examining, seeing if this potential goddess lived up to her billing, met his exacting standards. That was what she chose to believe, anyhow.

He turned to the stylists. [color=9e0b0f]"You shall dress, correct?"[/color]

They bowed deeply. [b]"Presently, milord."[/b]

[b]"It will take half an hour."[/b]

[color=9e0b0f]"Excellent. Then we shall convene in half an hour. Ensure her radiance is properly cared for."[/color]

[color=98FB98][i]I am 'her radiance',[/i][/color] Tyrel reminded herself, feeling... she wasn't certain what the feeling was, but  it settled upon her just the same. [color=98FB98][i]Radiance. And cared for.[/i][/color][/hider]
[i]In an intensive styling session, Tyrel is transformed into the goddess Vyshta for propaganda purposes, but struggles to find meaning in it.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Oath[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Twelve]It was all mud and blood and shit, or so had said one of the other medics. [color=F0FFF0][i]Toira,[/i][/color] Seviin thought. That had been her name. Certainly, the young priestess would not have used such words. One's conduct was as much an indicator of godliness as prayer, and was not language part of conduct? 

Five more, promptly, were hurried in on stretchers and dumped in the anteroom to be divvied up among the healers. Seviin had managed a drink and a tangerine over the past few hours and that was it. Some of the others were running on less, she knew. While many of the Tansans had welcomed their northern brethren, the gangs, the pirates, and the drug lords had not. Within an hour of their landing, the fight had begun in earnest, and it had not relented since. [b]"Ignore that one,"[/b] decreed Suunei Padeloi, [b]"He's one of the enemy,"[/b] and the dying boy was shifted into a lower-priority area. There were three others there, all in wretched states: one missing an arm and a leg, a second trying to hold his intestines in with trembling hands, and a third covered in stomach-churning burns. The new addition had only been skewered in the neck, chest, and abdomen. [color=F0FFF0][i]They did not expect this,[/i][/color] Seviin knew, though she did not dare say it. One did not question the people in command. They would adjust, as they always did. [color=F0FFF0][i]They thought we would be welcomed with open arms.[/i][/color]

[b]"I need blood synthesis,"[/b] shouted Moila Antian, [b]"STAT!"[/b]

Seviin pumped her patient - a local woman who'd taken an abdominal wound from one of the gangsters - full of pain inhibitors and rushed over. The forward medical camp was rudimentary, and she found herself dodging roots and rocks on the floor. [i]"Conditions?"[/i] she queried, arriving. [b]"Fireblood. Nothing special."[/b] She took of the blood and called upon her magics, pulling from a nearby patient who'd slipped away a few minutes earlier and synthesizing fresh blood that matched that of the dying girl before her. Antian and Padeloi were working to close the grisly chest wound a reconstruct her left lung and part of her heart. Seviin focused on her job. [color=F0FFF0][i]Lady Oirase, I beg of you,[/i][/color] she prayed to herself, [color=F0FFF0][i]Spare this young life so that she may yet know the wholeness of your creation.[/i][/color] She took from Exiran to give to Oirase, for that was the purview of those gods. Together, they saved a life. In the background rose screams: [b]"Mother!"[/b] [b][i]"Mother!"[/i][/b] [b]"Oirase! Oirase save me!"[/b] Some were inarticulate. Some were weak. With chemical magic, Moila Antian forced the girl - she was no more than seven or eight years of age - to rest. 

Seviin returned, immediately, to heal the abdominal wound on her original patient and thought she might have the chance to reach some of those who were nto their allies, for they were living beings just the same, created in Mother Oirase's image. She had just reached the man whose stomach had been sliced open when a new batch of patients arrived - mostly soldiers of their own side. She recoiled not for the sight of the wounds, for she was long since inured to such unpleasantness, but for the barbarity of it all: so much death - yasoi fighting yasoi - yasoi placed above yasoi, innocents like that small girl trampled underfoot. She made sure to keep her opinions to herself. [b]"Suu-nei,"[/b] he grated. [b]"Please."[/b] He lifted a hand from his abdomen, covered in blood, reaching toward her. [b]Please,[/b] he whimpered. [b]"I'm not a bad man. I have... a family. I..."[/b] He trailed off as a wave of pain wracked him and she tried to render him less conscious. It was all she could do. The soldiers were here and they took priority. Four of the five lived, one without eyes, one without a leg, and two... well, they would be alright. She returned, once more to the place where they let their enemies die, and found that the man she had wanted to save had joined Exiran. She reached out and closed his eyes, noticing Moila Antian's upon her. They exchanged a look, he shook his head, and they managed to seal up the punctures on one of the drug-sellers before he was placed into cuffs and handed over to the army. 

[b]"Suunei Seviin,"[/b] rang a voice, sure and powerful over the din as yet more came in, torn to shreds by metal, malice, and magic. It was Aloi Esmet, and she rushed over to the call. [color=F0FFF0]"What bids me, mother?"[/color]

[b]"The avatar of the sixth goddess is visiting."[/b] She was bustling about, searching for gauze that one of the healers had requested. Seviin knew that, if she did not find any, she would take the time to synthesize it. Aloi Esmet could synthesize almost anything. 

[color=F0FFF0]"Blessed be,"[/color] the young priestess responded.

[b]"Blessed be,"[/b] her superior acknowledged, [b]"And you've been eight hours without a break."[/b]

[color=F0FFF0]"Not so long, Aloi."[/color]

Mother Superior shook her head. [b]"You are the best of us, Seviin, truly, but your other side will be upon you soon, will it not?"[/b] Her voice lowered judiciously as she spoke and shards of ice prickled the tyro priestess' gut. Glumly, she nodded. In the background, a major had been brought in, terribly wounded with great chunks gouged from his body, and she watched as Ladeloi, Antian, and Suulex used one of the thugs, in haste, to save him. Her revulsion must have been visible, for Aloi Esmet bade her turn back around and pay attention by repeating her question. [color=F0FFF0]"I... I will not become an instrument of war, Aloi. I will not kill. Do not worry."[/color]

The senior priestess shot her a pained look, perhaps acknowledging what she had seen. [b]"We are all instruments of war, I fear, dear child, whether we agree with it or not."[/b] 

[color=F0FFF0]"But how [i]can[/i] they!?"[/color] Seviin blurted, and Esmet's eyes widened. [color=F0FFF0]"I know they are the enemy, but are not all yasoi created equal in the eyes of the Gods? What gives us the right to be arbiter!?"[/color]

She could feel the volume of her protestations artificially lowered by the senior priestess, and her eyes had gone from understanding to severe. [b]"It is not our right,"[/b] she hissed, [b]"but that choice has been taken from us. We follow orders or else [i]nobody[/i] gets saved. Or else even [i]more[/i] die!"[/b]

Seviin nodded. She apologized, for she was sorry to have caused such trouble. She had distracted Mother Superior and perhaps people might die or be irretrievably maimed for her selfishness. Still, she could not help but wonder - in her head alone - if more lives might've been saved by never setting foot here, in Tanso, at all.

Then, the goddess herself arrived and, though Seviin was not of the order dedicated to her worship, she found herself nonetheless awed. She hurried out to greet Vyshta, bowing deeply and reverently. The goddess nodded in return and then the two young women - no more than a coupel years apart in age - stood eye to eye. One was sweaty and bloodstained and had bags under her eyes. The other was radiant and glowing with magic, power, and presence. Perhaps the gods did [i]not[/i] craft all as equals, it occurred to Seviin, but she dismissed the thought. This was not a yasoi, but the divine made flesh. [color=F0FFF0]"Your radiance,"[/color] she greeted Vyshta, [color=F0FFF0]"I am Seviin'delaan'taxoiya. I am at your service."[/color] 

The young goddess offered a reserved smile. [color=98FB98]"I thank you, Seviin. I should like to look in on the wounded, on those recovering."[/color] She paused, and hesitated. No, that was wrong. A goddess could not hesitate. [color=98FB98]"And... perhaps those permanently... reduced."[/color]

White and black and gold. She was magnificent. Her eyes flicked down to her right side. The white dress that she wore was ornate but brief, slit high up at the hips, and... well, she'd have likely found it indecent were it worn by anyone [i]but[/i] a goddess. Seviin followed their path to the tiny rounded stump that poked out, and she understood. [color=F0FFF0][i]Even you, Lady Vyshta, have known suffering.[/i][/color] She canted her head slightly and gestured. [color=F0FFF0]"Of course, your radiance, if you would follow me?"[/color][/hider]
[i]A young healer and priestess, Seviin, struggles with the compromises she must make during war, and begins to question her committment.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Animal: Part One[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Thirteen]He was being hunted, like an animal, but he was a person. These Tarlonese [b][i]FUCKWADS[/i][/b] thought that having big scary ships and a bigger ego gave them the right to do it, but he'd evaded them so far. Hoots and howls echoed through the darkened forest but, still, Anthor ran. He could fight them, one on one, and he could win, but they were everywhere. They'd killed his brothers. They'd killed his dependents. He'd live just to spite them and then he'd find that filthy fucking 'emperor' and - 

His foot caught on something and his world swayed. He stumbled and crashed into a thicket of small trees, cursing and pulling on some quick chemical magic to numb the pain in the injured toes. He'd have been climbing right now, if he could've, but being up in the trees made him an easier target for those dragons. Those damned [i]dragons[/i]! How were they so accurate? How were they so [i]persistent[/i]? Down here, he had only to contend with a handful of hunter squads and... well, they'd unleashed their wildbloods. Most of them were bestial, with only the barest recognition of friend or foe, and they'd been left to rampage through the forest. Anthor was not stupid enough to get caught by such beasts.

A twig whipped back and caught him across the cheek, just under the eye, and he reeled from it. He could not let up, for he knew they hadn't. Every few minutes, he'd be tempted to, but then he'd listen closely and he could still hear the sounds of their distant pursuit. They were inyasoi. He shook his head. Their endurance was... He had magic. He had loads of it. Fuck them. He'd win. He continued to run. If he could get to Santandoi Bay, he knew a crew who operated out of there. They probably hadn't heard of the landing yet, of the purge. He could be first to bring the news to them. They'd probably reward him, or... well, they were pirates. At least they'd probably bring him with them, and that was all he needed. 

Wearily, determinedly, he continued to put one foot in front of the other. At first, there had been eight of them escaping, all members of the Fingers Gang. Pluurii, with her bad leg, had disappeared behind them before long. Loralen and Chad had been gunned down within the first twenty minutes. Tyshan had surrendered a couple of minutes after and the last that Anthon had sensed of that dirty coward was shouts in the distance and gunfire. They had continued, the four of them, for some time, until old man Hachii had upped and collapsed and there was nothing that Anthon could do for him. That was still burned into his mind's eye. [color=ed1c24][i]You pieces of shit. If you pay for anything, you'll pay for[/i] him.[/color] But then, it had seemed like they were free. They'd let up and slowed a bit, chests heaving, bodies aching. A great golden lionbear had come out of the trees and ripped Jaxan limb from limb as they watched. Anthon had attacked the beast and punched through its hide with an arcane lance, but Soruen had run off in a random direction and that had been the last he'd seen of her. 

He ran alone. A gentle rain began, rendering everything slick and cool. He had long since gone numb almost everywhere and it was only will and hatred that kept him going. Then, amid the thrash and snap of his own desperate trail of destruction, he caught sight of something in the distance, amid the endless tangle of trees. 

Light! It was light! Pushing through the pain, the fear, and the weariness, he hurtled forward and it grew every greater. The tree cover thinned and then he was there: on the cliffs overlooking a great sheltered bay. Along its shores lay a collection of huts, warehouses, and boats. Within were a handful of ships, their great darkened forms sitting serenly on the calm water. A couple of lanterns twinkled in the night by their bows and sterns. He was there! He'd made it: Santandoi Bay!

Improvising a white flag from his shirt, he began climbing down a steep and narrow path, shouting and waving all the way. He wasn't too late. They would see him! They would [i]save[/i] him. Already, he could sense motion within the ships. Torches and lanterns flickered to life amid the predawn gloom. They cast their feeble light out into the dark, endless ocean beyond, and that was when he saw the monster.[/hider]
[i]Running all night from his relentless Grey Fleet pursuers, the brigand Anthon finally makes good on his escape: the only member of his gang to escape - or [b]is[/b] he?[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Animal: Part Two[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Fourteen]Women were, supposedly, bad luck on ships, but Sivet had never believed it. She'd known nothing else but life aboard a ship since she'd been born, forty-six years ago, a mariner's daughter. She'd been night watch on the Panuut'ilwash for over a decade, and the ship had led a charmed existence. 

Yet, as she stared out into the abyss beyond on this five moon night, she found herself uneasy. Usually, a steady trickle of locals came down to Santandoi when they knew the Panuut was in port, to barter, to buy, to beg, and to join up. This time, there had been none past the first day. She chewed a jamb'ysp nervously and, once it had exhausted its benefits, spat what remained over the railing.

Waves frothed against the shoal, wind whistled, and the forest...

Then, she saw it: a figure on the cliffs. It was tiny and distant, but growing closer in a hurry. It paused to make a flag out of its shirt and she decided this might be interesting. Momentarily, she ventured below decks to wake up the other designated watchmen and the boatswain. Rubbing sleep from their eyes, they trudged up on deck with her. 

The clouds, luminous from the light of the five moons they were withholding, rumbled with the distant threat of thunder, and the same thin, slick rain that had carried on for hours continued. Outside of the bay's calm, the sea was angry. Part of it was the tides, this time of month, but just as good a part was the simple whim of Exiran. While the others took out a spyglass to make sense of the approaching stranger,  and sounded the thin, reedy whistle that would signal the other two ships, she hunkered under an awning, wet enough for one night, and gazed out into the distance.

[b][i]"Fwww-eeeet!"[/i][/b] it echoed, into the blackness. Thunder cracked. 

[b][i]"Fwww-eeeet!"[/i][/b] Wind and rain lashed. A sheet of lightning ripped across the sky and then, for just a moment, her blood froze.

She could feel the rumble of thunder in her chest, but then the lightning came again. [b][i]"Fwww-eeeet!"[/i][/b] Ships: at least a dozen, maybe more, approaching at half-sail in the darkness. The crack and boom reverberated across the waves and she stretched out with her senses. [color=7bcdc8]"Ships!"[/color] she screamed, [color=7bcdc8]"Incoming! Five-o-clock!"[/color]

But that was when she felt it and, for a moment, amid the icy fist of fear that seized and paralyzed her fromt he inside, she could not make sense of it. There was something under the waves, running ahead of the ships and... it was...

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZY3kcTp1oQ]♬[/url]

It was as if the water itself shook with the power of the sound. [color=d3d3d3]"All hands!"[/color] the boatswain was shouting, [color=d3d3d3]"All hands!"[/color] [i][color=7bcdc8]Why?[/color][/i] That was all that Sivet could think. Why come for them? Why do this? She took a moment to pray and make her peace with the gods, as half-asleep members of the crew surged onto the deck. With no time to reel it in, the anchor line was simply cut and the sails unfurled. 

Then came the sound, closer than before. She'd been at sea forty years. She knew the sounds of a Behemoth and a Black Devil. She knew monarchs and sandbars and sjosopari. This was none of those. If filled not just her ears, but her body. The air stirred with it, the very hull of the ship shook. Desperately, the Panuut got underway, her sisters lagging behind, but the enemy fleet seemed to be slowing, now, maneuvering, but not to attack! Instead, they were arraying themselves to close off the bay, to cut off any escape. They would leave it to - 

A third mighty, reverberating roar. All around her, pirates were praying, for what little good that would do. Eyes wide and fearful, all six senses on high alert, they loaded and manned the cannons. They tacked back and forth into the wind, but it was against them as they tried to escape. The gap closed and then... The water itself seemed to lift. Only the bowchasers could focus ahead, and they unleashed everything they had. To port, the Juuray'anthan and the Imologox hammered the great swell. Nothing was gained. Its cause was a beast such as she'd often told stories about, but never truly allowed herself to believe in. 

Then, it was gone. The Panuut'ilwash, worked up to full sail, was among the ten fastest ships on the Ensollian, and she was showing it now. Perhaps the salvo had caused the beast to flinch, to dive. Sivet was under no illusion that it was gone for good but, perhaps, just [i]perhaps[/i], Mother Oirase had saved their worthless sea-rat hides. Perhaps it would buy them enough time to punch through the enemy wall.

But then came the lighted torches in the distance, on the enemy's decks. Then, enhancing her senses, she could see them: dozens - no, [i]hundreds[/i] - of gunports opening. She dived to the deck just as the manmade thunder began. A dozen or more shots ripped through the Panuut and its sisters, tearing through wood, steel, and flesh alike. Splinters stung at Sivet and the great ship flagged, its mizzenmast collapsing with a terrifying crack that rivaled the thunder. Elsewhere, heated shot had carved fiery swathes through the Imologox and it was already ablaze. She staggered to her feat. Captain Jasco was dead, his midsection burst by a cannonball. She staggered over to take up his hat, but then the ship rocked precipitously. It was... impossible, this feeling, as if the entire thing was being... lifted?

She had mere moments to look up and stare into the jaws of her deliverance. [color=7bcdc8]"So be it."[/color][/hider]
[i]The pirate Sivet, night watchwoman aboard the fair ship 'Panuut'ilwash', encounters a terrifying enemy that forces her to question all that she knows.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Emperor: Part One[/h2][/center][hr][hr]

[hider=Chapter Fifteen]Two had disappeared beneath the waves. The third was ablaze and being finished off by gunfire. It was worthwhile practice and so Admiral Nevix signaled that it should continue. Already, dawn's ghostly glow was on the horizon. The rain had started to clear. [color=598527]"Admiral."[/color] Captain Taltor saluted crisply. [color=598527]"Operational goals have been met."[/color]

Nevix, gazing out at this new land, clecnhed and unclenched his fist absently. He returned the salute. [color=0054a6]"At ease, Captain."[/color]

[color=598527]"Sir. The Taisuum'op are asking if they should awaken his Dominion."[/color]

Nevix glanced out at the waves for some time longer. He knew that the Endricthiion was their greatest naval asset, but such a thing... it still filled him with unease. Belatedly, he nodded. [color=0054a6]"Yes, you've leave to do so."[/color] 

[color=598527]"As you command, osmax."[/color][/hider]
[i]Admiral Nevix'andoi'lasthan, commander of a great fleet, gives leave to the 'awakeners' to rouse 'His Dominion'.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Emperor: Part Two[/h2][/center][hr][hr]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2n7j1iUHuk]♬[/url]
[hider=Chapter Sixteen]A gangplank crashed down upon the rocks of Tanso. Banners of the hundred-five nations of the yasoi fluttered in the stiff morning breeze. The sun was, just now, peering over the horizon, glorious and golden.

They bowed their heads and bent their bodies in reverence. 

Horns sounded, cannons fired, and a pair of heavy armoured sabatons made landfall in Constantia. Cascal'uumii'anthan, first of his name, Emperor of Tantiac and defender of the Yasoi People, paused there, reverently for a moment, taking in the sight of this vast and green new land. He looked up to the sky and breathed once, and again. Then, this man, first among his people, sunk to his knees and made the Sign of the Pentad. Every soldier about him who was not holding a flag or a trumpet followed the emperor's reverent example and did the same. Yet, he lowered himself still further and kissed the bare earth, rising back to his knees and pentacting himself once more. After a moment he stood.

[color=BA55D3]"Jaadas!"[/color] he shouted.

[b]"Jaadas!"[/b] they thundered.

[color=BA55D3]"Juuras!"[/color]

[b]"Juuras!"[/b] Their voices were as one. 

[color=BA55D3]"Tan'daxii!"[/color]

[b]"Tan'Daxii!"[/b]

He regarded them all - a thousand troops arrayed along the shore and ten thousand more still aboard this second landing of the fleet. He nodded. [color=BA55D3]"Moila, suunei! My people!"[/color] He smiled beatifically, arms held to his sides in an all-encompassing gesture. [color=BA55D3]"I embrace you."[/color]

They cheered. He continued to nod before finally going still.

[color=BA55D3]"Just as I embrace this land."[/color] He gestured into the distance. [color=BA55D3]"I even [i]kiss[/i] it, for such is its value."[/color] He allowed his arms to fall and there, before them, began to pace. [color=BA55D3]"For it is a great land, where our people have lived for many thousands of years, where our people have grown strong!"[/color]

Most clapped. Some appeared confused. The emperor smiled knowingly.

[color=BA55D3]"Perhaps my last statement confounds you,"[/color] he admitted, [color=BA55D3]"So allow me to clarify."[/color] He nodded sagely. [color=BA55D3]"This [i]was[/i] once a great land. Its people, in theory and in spirit, are no lesser than our own. Its people, in theory and in spirit, are [i]our[/i] people. We share the same blood. We share the same tongue. We share the same gods."[/color] His voice was solemn, reverent with gravitas.

[color=BA55D3]"Make no mistake, moila, suunei: some of them will resist us. Some of them will not see us as their own. Time and distance have frayed bonds that once were strong. The great evil of aberrations has frayed spirits, psyches, and communities. There are those, here, who are sadly beyond saving."[/color] He bowed his head in regret. [color=BA55D3]"Know this, and know it true."[/color]

He raised his head, golden armour radiant in the morning sun. [color=BA55D3]"But know this as well!"[/color] he called, his voice echoing across the vast cove, reverberating off of the cliffs. [color=BA55D3]"We do the work of the gods![/color] It followed his previous statement, even more emphatic, [color=BA55D3]"To uplift their chosen people! To add our strength to that of our cousins, so that we might never be preyed upon, so that we might never be brought low or made to beg, to cower, to bend the knee to huusoi domination!"[/color]

[i]This[/i] received a response. He smiled knowingly. [color=BA55D3]"For though they are weak now, these people of Constantia, though some are so corrupted that they will fight us, remember that most are our friends, or might be, in the future. We must uplift, my people, not oppress but, also, we must not fear to do what is necessary, even when it is painful."[/color] He nodded as he spoke. [color=BA55D3]"Every addict that you see, no matter how they wail and thrash and curse, you must take from them that which corrupts their reason and their soul."[/color] His face was solemn again. [color=BA55D3]"And through this, they may yet be saved."[/color] He came to a stop, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. [color=BA55D3]"Every wretched peddler of this disease,"[/color] he sneered, [color=BA55D3]"Every thug and pirate and pusher."[/color] He paused, making sure that his words sunk in. [color=BA55D3]"There must be no mercy. This is a cancer, and it has set in deep but, if we act quickly, it may yet not kill its host."[/color]

Admiral Nevix furrowed his brow, head bowed reverently as his emperor spoke. These were words for the soul, for they were [i]honest[/i] words.

[color=BA55D3]"They may pull a terrible ruckus,"[/color] Cascal admitted, nodding as he spoke, [color=BA55D3]"Just as an undisciplined child does when separated from a toy before sleep."[/color] He took in a deep breath and released it. [color=BA55D3]"But Mother Constantia is that child now, and we must guard her from her most ferocious excesses, for she is incapable of doing so herself, no matter how she may insist to the contrary."[/color] He shook his head. [color=BA55D3]"Only then may she be freed,"[/color] he concluded, [color=BA55D3]"Only then may she rise again!"[/color] He hammered his chest with a fist. [color=BA55D3]"Only then may we stand!"[/color] he bellowed, [color=BA55D3]"One people, in the Gods' sight united and indivisible. One people!"[/color] he roared, [color=BA55D3]"One purpose!"[/color] He thrust that fist into the air. A thousand followed. [color=BA55D3]"One destiny: Jaadas! Juuras! Tan'daxii!"[/color]

The legions stomped their feet and took it up as a chant: [b]"Jaadas! Juuras! Tan'daxii! Jaadas! Juuras! Tan'daxii!"[/b] It echoed off of the walls. It reverberated through the sky, across the waters, into the great primeval forests and ancient villages of Tanso and of all yasoi lands in Constantia. All that remained was for those who heard to either heed its call or - for reasons that none present could fathom - resist it.[/hider] 
[i]Cascal'uumii'anthan, Emperor of Tantiac, sets foot in Constantia and delivers a stirring speech to rally his troops to the challenges that lie ahead.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Invasion[/h2][/center][hr][hr]
[url=https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Kb4T1-EqjWP3dqfKBp5MMenPv8k72gEZ/view?usp=sharing]♬[/url]
[hider=Chapter Seventeen]If they were streaming through into the bays, beaches, and towns of Tanso so, too, were they streaming through portals into Ersand'Enise for the start of the Trials. Of course, it wasn't Tarlonese invaders, in this case, save for a few from Tantas'ilwash Academy. Instead, it was biros of fifteen other magic schools the world over and others initiated but not attending one of those. These arrived, as they had the previous year and for the previous [i]hundred[/i] in one great ceremony in Balthazar Square, the expansive plaza at the northern edge of the Academy of Thaumatury. 

Still basking in the afterglow of the Founders' Day Faire, the city more or less erupted in celebration - some staged and some impromptu. It was a cacophony of sound, colour and motion: church bells rang across Ersand'Enise, musicians played, and a great procession was staged. If the Zenith presided over the festivities, then so did three of the other Arch-Zenos, so did the mayor and the archbishop, so did the shrewd-eyed merchants who ran the famous port, and so did many of the powerplayers of Mudville's upcoming election, sure to remain visible, sure to court allies among the neighbouring city's elite who might sway matters in their favour. 

There were luminaries among the arrivals to be certain: exotic teams from afar, old friends, and new unknowns. Themed teams from Retan and Vossoriya made an appearance and some very odd Cazenax from the deep deserts of Western Callanast. Most of all, however, was the mighty Sun King, who descended from the heavens and never touched the ground. His bright robes and smiling golden mask did nothing to hide his immense power. As with his icy counterpart from last year, it was so immense that it brought those who dared stand close to their knees. All around where he hovered, the air itself seemed to crackle and glow with energy. 

And so, with a flash announcement from the Zenith, the 556th annual Trials commenced. They commenced with a draft and, almost immediately thereafter, with ally selection and the onset of the opening game: the venerable Melon Derby. The hastily-formed teams had an hour to follow the maps they'd been given to their assigned home bases - temporarily repurposed housing of their instructors - and to prepare. It was a scramble. Some faltered and some soared. Tempers flared and solutions were found... or they were not. With that single announcement, Zenith Upta had kicked off one week of chaos, no different, in theory, than any of its hundreds of earlier iterations. In practice, by the end of it, Ersand'Enise might never be the same again.

[hider=The Dark Secret]What few had noticed or recognized and what most of even those had dismissed was the absence of one particular group of students: those from Sawand's Golden Star Academy. Perhaps they had opted to stay home this year. Perhaps they had not organized a team on time. The place was notoriously flaky, after all. They had not been through that portal. They had not seen what Riu Kai-Tan had. They did not fight off the creature of dark tendrils. They did not return the traumatized students, for safety's sake, to the place from whence they had come. Nor had they heard its warning. Nor had they lost one student to it, like he had. He conferred, as the celebration trailed off, with the other Arch-Zenos. He conferred about the Ingrid Penderson and Valerian Leclere incidents and about a burgeoning crisis that could no longer be denied. A reckoning was coming for the school and for the entire magic-using world. Would it destroy or would it unite them?[/hider][/hider]
[i]The Academy at Ersand'Enise welcomes visiting cohorts from around the world, and a euphoric attitude prevails, but stormclouds loom on the horizon.[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h2]Welcome...[/h2][/center][hr][hr]
[i]...to chapter two of our fifth arc! This is where things really begin to kick into gear. There's plenty to do and engage with and, while some storylines might seem distant for the time being, they'll be impacting us sooner than you think! Wheels are turning. Plots are in motion. It's time to lead, follow, or get out of the way!

Just a note in terms of the melon derby: that'll kick off immediately [b]next[/b] posting cycle. This is actually a rather short cycle in terms of posting, despite the plethora of content. In about one week, we'll be posting everything concerning the derby and some special posting rules will apply.

If you have any questions, as always, feel free to ask myself or any of the mods on discord! For now, however, here's a list of useful links and documents:[/i] 

[url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JSFxeEI_-YnrQEiEQAUAioNI-DptPfy9lJlkMnzUoNE/edit?usp=sharing]Yasoi Language[/url]

[url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/170HMDZpuGMBiS6IWdt_Bfdqr-sY5AVpDcedmtTCpVSU/edit?usp=sharing]Mudville Election Candidates[/url]

[url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DP8EGbIvvdcF5d0CzWfHQ722vtsxNQfqT6os9izcfa4/edit?usp=sharing]Magical Hat List[/url]

[url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tom4xLkAxhUIdL1xQx2KKOvDyKqFGc473JDro0EZ-og/edit?usp=sharing]Drafted Teams[/url]

[url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/17eNJEXMTGgtxrltmQLHI1i3C3KC1aKTStHrHfQoDB0c/edit?usp=sharing]Great Melon Derby Rules[/url]

[url=https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nEFcQ9JnaTHx6fLQAZOy-cwvdmL0YkfUSLLDnYiIpK4/edit?usp=sharing]Sipenta Calendar[/url]

[hr][hr][center][h2][i]Happy Posting![/i][/h2][/center][hr][hr]