Until kingdom comes 2 IC

[Kris]

Prologue- Mirror Mirror

Mirror can you tell me how to stay forever young?
Let me know the secret, I will hold my twisted tongue!
Please protect my beauty, velvet skin so pure and white
Hear my name resounding, like a hymn, at dead of night

Once I struck a servant, she's a virgin free from sin
Drops of blood caressed me and refined my aging skin

Could this be the answer?... Uncorrupted carmine red?
Voices keep resounding in my dazed bewildered head...

Have I found myself eternity?

Someone has heard my prayers now I'll become divine!

Have I found myself divinity?

I'm no longer a slave to the vicious hands of time

***

Norgard- Capital Sonata

She crouched at the ground, holding her head within her hands, blond locks falling beside her, hiding the rest of her figure. Her body was soaked with crimson liquid that cascaded down her body yet lingered with visible trail, as if to highlight her terrible sin.

"You are doing fine", a voice whispered to her.

The queen dared not look up and only one eye was visible between her long white thin fingers, "How much longer?!"

"As much as it will be needed, your highness"

"Make it stop", the queen ordered.

The other figure knelt beside her: A woman who had a terrible hair color of red which almost matched the sight of blood that covered the queen of Norgard. The woman kissed the queen's forehead gently, "But you desired it, loved". She pet the head of the queen, moving her fingers between the golden locks, making sure to tangle them within her fingers, and once they were hanged all over her hands, she used them as like ropes to pull the queen's head and lift her face in order to force the miserable human to look at her.

"Now you listen to me...", Lady Rose said while reaching her other free hand to touch the neck skin of the queen, caressing her just beside the shoulders, "There's no turning back... My love", She grinned and chuckled, "After all, you desired it. You wanted it. You needed it". The red haired woman let go of the queen, a bit too brutally, forcing her away, almost slamming her against the cold floor, "If it's too hard on you... We can always use the girls from the tribes. They are... after all... Just a silly barbaric race which need be destroyed"

"Yes... Let us use... The virgins of the tribes..."


***

Aerosia- Capital Burg

"Troubles you say?", King Kale stroke his chin as he considered the words of the young man that stood before him. As was ordered before, no one remained in the room and the two could speak discreetly and freely.

"Yes, Your highness. I cannot explain or say what exactly, but something within me urges me to call for help".

King Kale got up from his place walking back and forth, "If what you say is true... ", the king landed back at his throne, clearly not happy with the news, "I....".

Aerosia was an isolated land which kept away from troubles and evil that the rest of the world knew and suffer from. Alas, now it seems that this evil sought to eat at the heart of the "Alliance of the East", the same Alliance that King Kale's himself had always encouraged to maintain from the very beginning, ever since Emperor Evinadav II broke out with his armies.

King Kale knew he could have just accepted the fact that the alliance had crumbled long ago and even enjoy the doubt that his people will not be harmed because they were so cut off from the rest of the world...

But he knew he couldn't do that.

"Summon people to my land. May the power of the Oracle of the Earth be with you", he ordered the youth who bowed and left the room.


***


Chapter 1- Wander


Present day

The group made their ways into the lands of Norgard by sea, departing from the kind pirates that allowed them to reach so far. Some of them had their own mission to complete or have their life start anew in a different landד.

Whatever it was, news were about to reach them about the latest events of Norgard.

And some will just so happen to find themselves in a place, far away from their home, to start their own journey.

[Repent!]

Norgard - Port Town of Damas

The boat ride through the seas to Norgard gave the assassin more than enough time to process the past couple days. From witnessing the death of the ancients and the simple joy Cronus gained from their death. To Roseabelle's eyes and Lieroian's words burning in his brain. Not to mention the shadows, and how they sapped the life from Arjak and the others as well as himself...it was a little too close for his taste.

"Zelvad, we're here. Let's go."

The words yanked Zelvad back into reality so fast he went to reach for his dagger as mere instinct until his eyes met Sinclair's, causing him to force his hand to change course and hit the wood of the ship instead making it look like he was in a hurry to get up and press on. "....Yeah, let's move."

Sincalir put a hand on Zelvad's shoulder as the assassin tried to walk past him."Are you alright? You look kinda...distracted."

"I'm fine, Raphael. Just a lot happened at once in the past couple days is all." Zelvad then slid past Raphael and off the ship.

As he touched cold ground of Norgard, the wind whsipered in his ears as his head darted to the side as he lifted his mask...but nothing met his vision.

So very strange...

[Koti~]

Norgard- Outside the port town of Damas

He cursed his human body as he trodded along, his pawed feet thudding on the fresh snow. He resisted the urge to sneeze, a slight haze fogging his mind as he continued to walk, his determination keeping him going. He had passed by some of the larger towns, knowing them to not be a safe haven, not even for his human self. He was heading towards the far port town, needing to see the healer there.

“Cursed illness” He thought to himself, swaying lightly through the snow. He had tried to cure the illness himself, but none of the herbs he used would help him, which irked him even more. He had come to the conclusion that he would need the help of a healer, and was willing to head to the far port town, where few questions were asked, and only whispers of his rumor clung. He laughed to himself delirious, remembering the first time he had heard the rumor, and was glad that his actions were having an impact on these humans, albeit not the one he wanted. He smiled despite his barely shivering form.

He slumped to the ground against his own will, on a grass knoll near the port town. His breathing labored, rose up in fog around his mouth, foam mixing with spittle. He sat himself up, the collar shifting some around his neck as he stretched and shook, snow falling off his body. He looked up to see the port town a short distance off, which normally would take, but he needed rest.

Taking his time and closing his eyes, he deftly shifted the earth around him, making a large enough burrow near where he rested, hidden by shadows unless directly looked at. He climbed gingerly into the hole, finally giving into the sneeze he had been holding in, which was shortly followed by a fit of coughing. Panting after that heavy fit, he curled into a ball, closing his eyes to rest for some time before heading into the city, knowing that he would have to shift back to a human before heading in.

“If not for this flu, I wouldn’t even be here” He thought to himself before exhaustion of days straight travel, moving in-between running and jogging, claimed him, dulling his mind as he gave in to sleep, his mind racked with fever diluted dreams.

[Awean8]

Norgard - Port Town of Damas - Black Hound HQ

"How drab?"

The man sat slouched lazily on his throne while sipping wine from a bronze chalice. With a crown and the proper attire you'd surely mistake him for royalty with the amount of luxury he has allowed himself. After all his business ventures have proven extremely successful since his days as a lowly merchant, in fact all around the world he now had operations and indentures moving like cogs in a clock.

Jensen, his most loyal servant and diligent lieutenant, gave a confused expression as if he hadn't understood his lord's words correctly, "Excuse me m'lord?"

"Yes, you heard correctly Jensen"

Nations all eventually serve a single purpose. Despite pretty flags and oh so colorfully complacent patriotism all empires further their own development with a single mindset, to destroy and bring the ruin to both competition and opposition. Tis a sad truth, but this however can bring great opportunity to those with the will to seize it.

"Come on you swine! I feel like the jester in my own court!", the man shouted throwing his chalice across the room causing several of the other men in the room to cringe ever so slightly. Almost immediately maids rushed to clean up the mess. "This country is so damn boring, although I do admit that the people of this fair city have the most interesting things in their dirty little pockets. Just the other day my hand had found its way into one only to pull out a mouse. A live one."

"Yes, m'lord I remember. I was there." Jensen had said smiling at such an odd memory, "You had also brought it home although it wasn't too long before you had lost it."

"Eh, the little critter is probably getting himself into the pantry"

This man's name was Jacob Grimwayr and he was the leader of Black Hound, the mercenary company. He basically sold skilled third party armies to nations while still avoiding any unnecessary allegiances. Discretion and subterfuge was the key to this sort of game. By hiring Black Hound to do the dirty work clients can subsequently deal harm to their opposers without any of the consequences; like a full fledged war. Jacob has seen every possible scenario be brought to his attention. From plots of revenge to political intrigue to even immature propositions that are similar to "he stole my favorite toy." However it mattered not, for he gave his sword arms freely for the proper compensation.

"Walk with me Jensen, I'm taking a venture outside."

"As you wish m'lord"

The unforgivable Norgardian cold gave him goose bumps as he shivered down the streets of Damas. He wasn't used to such weather conditions for he had just recently arrived to check up on the recent operations only but a few weeks ago. Jacob had held Norgard in low regard based on what he has experienced so far. Mostly barbarians with little use for table manners. Than again perhaps he was just a bit grumpy because all the fun Black Hound members were out on missions.

[Kris]

Norgard- Port Town of Damas


"Look there!", a man said and pointed at the ship, "Do you recognize that man?"

"Of course!", another yelled, "The all-father be blessed! My, Lord Arjak has returned alive?!"

The two of them, druids from far away in the mountains tried to get as close as they could to the lands of the queen and maybe spy and get some answers about the missing girls from the tribes. However security was too tight and they decided to try the port town, knowing that within a village of fisher they wouldn't handle much troubles with royal guards.

They had some suspicions too. They were familiar with the rumors. They knew that within the lands of the queen, girls have been taken to the castle, never to return or be seen again.

But what the queen needed the unmarried girls for?

Now for over two weeks girls have been missing from the tribes along with...

"We better handle it carefully, he is travelling with outsiders".

"He must hear the truth sooner or later, and beside have you heard about the power of his clan? I think he might be the answer we are looking for"

"So we go get him?"

The other man nodded and the two headed for the group.


***


Somewhere in Aerosia


He was lost within the shadows. It took him a long time to recall his mind. To remember who he was. If he was within his body, he might have been upset or angered by it. Yes, his powers were weakening. He didn't tell it to King Kale, but what most scared him was the fact that little by little he felt his powers leaving him.

There was no time to waste while within this void. Without his body his soul might forget it's true self and be lost here, like what happened to many Oracles of Earth before him.

He tried to make sure all of his mental powers were with him to aid him, helping him to push forward within this endless space of black and white with no clear edges or boarders. As he traveled he noticed more lights that looked like his own 'soul form'. Whenever he came close to one of those lights, said light dimmed and died, disappearing into the darkness.

He knew that his actions here have affected the outside, the real worlds. He knew that like that he was able to call forth heroes from all over the six kingdoms and even from the Empire in the west. He needed them here, in Aerosia.

However when he came close to the zone he knew was of Norgard's he was pushed back. Same thing happened in Ivalor, but it wasn't that powerful. He wasn't able to pull much closer.

Image of a woman appeared, she laughed as her long mailed fingers reached into his form and tore at him. It hurt like he was wounded while within his human body. Confused, he almost lost himself again but before he rushed back into his body he was able to grab few more lights in Norgard.

He opened his eyes, looking around he noticed he was still at the same cave he hide in. Marks of scratches appeared over his chest, but they were solid, like they were few days old and not newly gained. He was not bleeding too.

Getting up from his place, The young Oracle of Earth turned to find the people he summoned here and tell them about their mission.

[Mysteria]

Norgard - Port Town of Damas
　
Ciara stepped off of the boat and onto the pier in the town of Damas, it being the first time since her youth that she had stepped foot in Norgard. The cold winds greeted her, a sensation that had not been forgotten through out the years. She basically had no kin left to speak of in Norgard as many of her own clan had long since passed and being 'home' again felt foreign to her and slightly uncomfortable. She was grateful for Arjak's presence, along with the new friends and companions that she had come to know since having left Chanclera.
　
The air was crisp and clean but Ciara shuddered, not from the cold, rather instead from a sense of foreboding as she sensed the presence of dark forces. The feelings were the same as the feelings she had experienced back in Chanclera the night that she had saved Arjak from the Nephiliam. Thinking back to that evening, Ciara was grateful that she had been there, that she had saved him and in the process found him. Despite his stubbornness, and her own past history, the Druidess had quickly come to care a great deal for Norgardian Prince. She could only hope now that his return to Norgard, and to his rightful throne and the women who would wish to claim him for their own not to mention share his bed, would not change his feelings for her and that she would not be left to be alone, and abandoned once more.
　
Reaching for his hand, Ciara paused a moment as Arjak took her hand into the warmth of his own. Looking into the lupine eyes that she had come to seek solace in several times before, she hoped that he would not sense her own trepidation and the insecurities that had just washed over her like the cold Norgard winds. Offering a smile, she finally spoke "It has been so long since I have breathed in the air of Norgard, Arjak and I smell something foul on the winds. It no longer feels like home to me."

[StormWolf]

Norgard - Port Town of Damas

Long had the journey by ocean been as Arjak and his company of friends and comrades made their exodus from the hot and dry land of Ascara. The days and nights on the rolling black waters of the open sea earned Arjak his sealegs, though the ship was vacant of any kind of rum that would have made the journey easier and more enjoyable as a whole. Each day the air grew colder as the ship sailed further north, drawing closer to Arjak's homeland of Norgard. It was going to be good coming home. On the last day at sea, Arjak stood at the bow of the ship, watching as the looming shadow of Norgard's coast and high mountains sat atop the waters of the world, its fjords and mountains piercing the heavens like daggers of the earth. The air was crisp and cold, just like he remembered, though the hint of salt in the air was something that Arjak was not accustomed to.

When the ship pulled up to the pier of Damas, Arjak's thin grin quickly faded. The air now smelled foul. It reeked of sadness and dispair and fear. His golden eyes narrowed, dark lines creasing his sea-dried face at the corners of his eyes. Arjak was visibly more rugged than he was when the journey started. A short beard adorned his anvil-like jaw and scratches earned in Ascara turned to pale lines on his cheek and thick arms. Arjak scanned the pier as his comrades disembarked from the ship when he felt the familiar warmth and smoothness of Ciara's hand fill his. His gaze fell to her and he smiled through his short beard, giving her hand a small squeeze. He could see worry in Ciara's eyes. Being a druid herself, Arjak was quite certain that she could smell what he did, if not a little less. Whatever the case, Ciara's raven familiar would certainly pick up such a strange sense in the air.

"It has been so long since I have breathed in the air of Norgard, Arjak and I smell something foul on the winds. It no longer feels like home to me." Ciara said to Arjak is a hushed tone. Even then, her voice was like honey to his ears. Alas, she was correct - something was terribly afoul. Arjak nodded in agreement to her statement, taking another look at the town before speaking back to her in turn.

"Aye, Ciara, the air itself is at unrest. Fear and something much more sinister holds my home hostage," Arjak paused as a dock worked trudged past with a crate full of Norgardian spirits. The Thane took a subtle whiff of the dock worker, his face grimacing. "These folk are terrified, and fear is not something that grips Norgardians easily. I have been away from my home for a long while. We must go to my Clan in White Forest, my mother can tell us of the goings-on in my absence. Besides, I would wish for you to meet my family. I am sure you will find them much more charming and entertaining than my company alone." Arjak finished with a lighter note and a thin smile, trying to break away the dark clouds of the situation and let some light pour through. This was the first time Arjak had been home in years, and he would not have it be a grim occasion.

[Awean8]

Norgard - Port Town Damas

Jacob waltzed down the street towards the docks with his hands buried in his pockets with Jenson following close behind. He had heard that a ship had arrived and wanted to check if there was any Black Hound goods on board. Smuggling was a side operation that he ran on occasion.

At that point he noticed a woman coming off one of the ships. She seemed familiar from somewhere but for some reason he couldn't recollect exactly. Was she an old lover? No, probably not. Jacob wasn't too fond of red heads. "Well, this is sure perplexing."

The woman, Helena, the former paladin, seemed to have captured a glimpse of him too. As the group descended down from the ship, the pirate Kilyna, the grin never fading from her pretty face, saying her goodbyes as her crew waved to them, thanking them for all they did for them back in Ascara as they unpacked and watched the "The Reverse Angel" leaving back into the sea.

It took few moments, but Helena did recalled the Trader. Many of his kind passed within her lands. The most famous ones were from the organization of "The scales" who were careful not to run any illegal business in the holy land of Ivalor but Helena never trusted Traders to be decent mainly because she knew that many of the priests had trouble hiding their lust for forbidden pleasures such as women and wine. She saw them acquiring their wine supplies and enjoy the company of ladies within the brothels of the "Smacked Ass", which was situated on the outskirts of the capital town.

Helena could have ignored him. But, the fact she still didn't know what had happened in Ivalor and to her mother bothered her to no end. She was willing to once again bow her head down in order to have some piece of information.

"Good day", she said as she addressed the man, "You may not know me, but I think I've seen you many a time at the borders of Ivalor. Forgive me for being so straight forward, but it has been awhile since I was able to contact someone from my home land. I want to ask if you happen to bear any news about the holy land. Is it true that evil has been taken over the kingdom? Have you heard about the fate that befall the residents? Don't belittle the facts and don't spare me details. May the god be my aid, I fear my coming actions should I remained in the dark".


Bewildered by the sudden plethora of questions that he didn't exactly have the answers to immediately he was forced to stop and ponder for a good three seconds. What a strange lady? She still wasn't ringing a bell, but it was sort of getting there. "Ummm.....uh...Jenson do you know anything about this? I've seemed to have skipped over the last memo. Did it happen to say anything about kingdoms and great evils?"

Jenson gave a deep a sigh thinking to himself if this was the real reason Jacob had kept him around for so long. "Yes, m'lord. Recently, none of our convoys have been able to enter Ivalor. The details are rather unclear at that point."

"Well, there's that. eh?"

They had many smuggling operations running through Ivalor, mainly catering to the various corrupted priests. It wasn't the most reputable business, but money was money and it came before his scruples. At this point he actually did remember the red haired maiden from the holy kingdom, but couldn't place a name.

"Jacob Grimwayr. Tis my name m'lady, and yours?"

Helena blushed as she was 'slapped' by her inappropriate manners and by a Trader no less, "Way yes, forgive my rudeness", she said quickly, some confidence leaving her, "Please address me as miss Leviticus", She looked at him again, studying him as her whole expression turned to show sorrow and grief, "Would appear that I will not be able to learn anything yet".

"Well, Miss. Leviticus I'm sorry for your troubles but I'm afraid I must take my leave of you for the moment unless of course you had need of me. I'm a rather powerful man, and Jenson here can vouch for me. He's the honest type as you probably could tell", he had said with a wink and a charismatic flourish to each word.

The ever polite and well mannered Jensen gave a snicker at his lord before saying, "Aye, m'lady. I concur."

[Kris]

Norgard - Port Town of Damas


"Aside of information I don't think I would need your services for-!", Helena began saying but then halted, turning around all too swiftly to the voices of steps behind her.

"The all father be praised", a man stepped out of the shadows accompanied by another. They were both dressed in clothing similar to Arjak, heavy and furred, highlanders so they seemed, but something about them was hinted that they were not of the same tribe as Arjak, "You've returned alive Lord Al’Andunn... We-!"

Just before they carried on with their words a live demonstration of what they wanted to tell has presented itself before them. Soldiers clad in heavy metal, about 20 of them, have appeared carrying a young girl with them. They were all armed.

"The queen's guards", said one of the man, "We beg you Lord Arjak, Help us rescue her!"

There were just too many of them to handle. The small group probably wouldn't be able to fight so many without risking the druid child. Without much of a choice Helena turned around and looked at Jacob, "Sir, I don't believe you're of the type to do anything for free... That is why I think I will hire your services, but be informed I might not be able to pay you right away... May the god hear our cry, aid us save the young woman".


***


Somewhere in Aerosia (on the way to Sigard)


The children were pulled away in a straight line, each child linked to the next by a chain of iron. Their legs were bound and they had trouble walking. That, of course, didn't bother their captures from urging them to move faster by means of pushing or hitting them to get the message into their tiny little heads. The kids were too afraid to cry or resist for they witnessed the fate of their brethren that tried to do just that.

It was not a pretty sight.

"This is rich", said one of the elders who lead the children. He was a chubby yet a tall man in his late forty with ugly shaped mustache and without much of hairs in his skulls, "All we gotta do is pick up the tiny runts, hand them over and *Bang* money just drop into her hands in no time"

"Shut up Ted", said another man, pale looking with long brown beard, "I can't believe I need to babysit while hearing you blubber all the way"

"But it's true Morisson. We didn't had much of a luck in a long time. Actually never. Only when 'The Scales' and 'The Black Hound' gone away from here we had some turns for the better, come to think of it".

"I heard Dravon got himself the exclusive deals in Ivalor", said another man.

The Convoy stopped all at once. Morisson and Ted were about to start hitting the kids again but when they realized who was it that prevented everyone from carrying on, they shivered and flinched in fear.

"I thought I've told you, not once and not twice. NEVER UTTER THE MAN'S NAME!".

He called himself Goliath. Few knew the guy's real name and only addressed him when he allowed them to. He was once one of 'The Scales' and now one of the many who hated the Lord Trader Dravon and wished to dethrone him, creating a better organization, or so he thought, by the name of 'The Golden Bar'. He used the time of Dravon's absent well, plotting with a being, that some considered to be inhuman, to gain more power and wealth.

The children were just another method to reach it.

"You heard me, Dravon is dead, a goner", Goliath spat. The last thing he wanted was to fully pronounce the man's name, like he was some sort of a saint or holy spirit to call for guidance, "You all heard the news about Ascara and our spies informed us of his intention to visit there soon after acquiring power in Ivalor. I dare say he is gone for good, caught up in their silly civil war. now let's carry on"

"We should indeed, M'lord", said another man, "We don't want to meet up with the 'Sisters' again".

The gang shivered to the thought of the deadly robed women that attacked them the other day. The women released the children the "Golden Bar" grabbed the other day, making them lose a fortune and some of their men's lives. The woman used some unheard magic spells.

"Ha, Let the frail women come", Goliath chuckled, "The citizen are positive that the 'Sisters' are the true fiend anyway. No one will suspect us. Now move along, We need to meet our agent, Jared, by the end of the day"


***

Aerosia- Capital Burg


"Where are they, Gilliam?", asked the king.

The young Oracle of Earth looked around him, confusion and doubt appearing on his face, "I'm not so sure milord, they should be getting the summoning and follow the trail here by now... In fact I suspect that they arrive here shortly"

"But can we trust them?"

"Fate can never be trusted, My liege and the human heart can always turn over. All we can do is hope we got the right people for the mission and believe that our guidance will help them find their true path".

King Kale smiled, the wisdom of the young man never casing to surprise him. He always thought the years and the experience of life were what granted a man a true wisdom. But he learned all too quickly that some were just prodigy in that area, regardless of age. Sure, he knew the young man will have to set out and learn more by himself to be complete, nevertheless, that didn't stop him from consulting with the youngster or heed his advices.

"I just hope, Milord, That you've prepared plenty of food", the young man chuckled.

"Why is that?".

"I sense that they are confused, disturbed and angry. Nothing like a full stomach to let them get to know us better".

The king laughed, "Well said, well said", He wiped away tears of joy.

Gilliam halted in his place, looking at the great door that led into the large hall the two, he and the king were at, "I feel them! They are entering the palace, Milord".

[Koti~]

Norgard - Port of Damas

He used his staff to help him move, giving the evil eye to anyone who tried to help them. Even though he was human, he could still smell their retched human filth on them, which would have normally made him sick, besides the fact that it added his fever. He continued to walk, knowing that there was a herbalist near the port, and was heading to her. He was slightly wobbly, since most of his time was spent as a wolf.

He never did reach the herbalist shop though, because two new smells hit his nose, which made him pause. He could smell the forest around the dock, and not just people who wandered in there, but people who thrived in it. Three of them, one of them making his nose scrunch in anger. That anger was wiped away though, when he heard the clanking of metal, and saw the soldiers, 20 strong with a girl in-between them. He resisted the urge to growl, and headed between to nearby alleys. He couldn’t do much in his human form, but there was one form that would.

Once making sure that no one was around, or far off, he held his staff with both hands, focusing on his energy stored deep inside his body. He started the ancient chant, letting the energy flow through his body, soon morphing into his wolf form, shaking his head. He stumbled a bit as he stretched his feet, and made a ridge. He followed up the ridge, getting to one of the higher building tops, mostly unnoticed except for those who could probably use magic themselves. He stood on the top, looking down at the soldiers, snarling. Taking in a deep breath, making sure that his feet were planted firmly, he let out a large howl into the air, making people freeze or jump into the air. People stood shocked before skittering off in a panic, the soldiers surrounding the girl while taking a defensive position. The girl was of decent height, and other than her clothes, she had a silver scar on her right cheek.

He felt energy, rage, and delirium build in his body, the fever reaching a high pitch with the two transformations within a few hours, and his mind went to one thing, attack. Energy seemed to flow through out of his body, and cascade into the ground, making it tremble with his rage. Stones started to rise into the air, causing more panic and the shouts of ‘Blood wolf” to mix into the air.

His vision blurred with the fever and made the soldiers swirl, doubling their amount in his eyes. The rocks flew forward, a few hitting their marks while others fell harmlessly into the streets. He stumbled again, coming close to falling to the streets.