[[Day 28 of Month -4 :: The Grand Cathedral]]<br/><br/>The moment they left the crowds in the Cathedral, Seraphim released the snicker she'd been carefully suppressing.  "You totally owned him." She crowed happily, pleased on Lethe's behalf.  It was good her younger sister got some recognition for her abilities.<br/><br/>Pensive looks covered several faces at the older woman's words but none said anything. Instead, Lethe shooed them all away with a chiding smile.  Surely they all had their tasks to finish? She didn't recall giving them the morning off!  One by one, with grumbles and parting congratulations, the members of Team Blonde peeled off.<br/><br/>It was in the solitude of their squad quarters that Deimos finally queried, "Is that such a good thing? What Seraphim said?"<br/><br/>Adair and Lethe shared sideways looks at the other Knight's question.  Illusion magic wasn't unheard of. . . The latter fiddled with her tea cup as she responded,<span style="color: silver">"No, it isn't."</span>She peered into the depths of her mug but the amber liquid held no answers.<br/><br/>"Should you mention it to him?"<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">"I'm sure he's aware.”</span>Deimos and Adair both glanced over at the unexpectedly cold tone.<span style="color: silver">“This can’t be the first time I've faked an injury to get a drop on him."</span>The woman standing at the end of the room wasn't their friend; affection had been superseded by the resolve needed to lead the Immaculate.  A Seraph looked clinically past them as if mentally tallying the lives Guilford’s weakness might cost them.  Her gaze dropped away and a self mocking laugh broke the suddenly tense silence. Who responded next, their Captain or their Seraph, neither Adair nor Deimos were quite sure:<span style="color: silver">"The follies of being human."</span><br/><br/>The white haired stranger set aside her cup with a deafening clink of porcelain on wood, signalling the end of that conversation, and in that moment transformed back into the Lethe they knew.<span style="color: silver">"I can hardly ask you to harden your hearts to your friends and family.  It is these vulnerabilities, inconvenient as they may be at times, that give us the ability to sympathize.  Now,”</span>Blue eyes focused on the two Knights in the room,<span style="color: silver">“since apparently you two have so much free time, shall we start your Seraph training? The first step is..."</span>An anticipatory smile, a touch frightening in its eagerness, broke out on Lethe's face.  Given the display they'd just seen, Deimos and Adair couldn’t help but wonder if it was their turn to face the tips of Lethe’s Heaven’s Judgement blades,<span style="color: silver">"Meditation!"</span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 29 of Month -4, Morning :: Barrens]]<br/><br/>What a glorious day it was indeed!  Eve couldn’t help but let a sinister smile linger on her lips a little longer as she watched her Sinners work their butts off in tidying her abandoned (after suffering her wrath on more than one occasion) throne room.  She couldn’t afford to let<span style="font-weight: bold">him</span>see her throne room in shambles! That would be unbecoming of her.  His return deserved better!  And what better way was there to celebrate his return than with the attack on Lindela?  The plan was perfect!<br/><br/>She had been overseeing her Sinners place her newly acquired Vision Orb, for them to be able to watch Lindela burn to the ground as they celebrate, when the double doors of her throne room creaked open.  She looked over to see two silhouettes.  One was wrapped in a shapeless cloak that hid all from view except its wearer’s height, which towered above its companion.  The other shade was more petite, clearly a female, but her features otherwise indiscernible due to the backlighting.  All that could be seen from the two shadows were burning red lights.<br/><br/>As they entered the room, their dramatic shadows crept away to reveal two demons: the God of Sin’s remaining Exalted.  Amon was nothing more than a billowy black cloak, his left arm visible only because it was cradling an ancient tome.  Syndra was not as hidden in her standard navy blue garment.  A jagged scar of silver cloth cleaved its way diagonally across her torso even as a line of buttons, dark blue or silver to hide against their surrounding fabric, marched its way from her neck to her feet.  The bottom of the jacket was split into four strips, a useless defense against the wind but dramatic enough for a follower of the God of Sin.  Utility was of little import when weighed against temptation.<br/><br/>The elder Exalted nodded his cloaked head in greeting as the pair reached the center of the Throne Room.<br/><br/>“Lady Eve,” Syndra greeted with forced indifference, “Is the Lord soon to arrive?”  While she had no affection for the other demon, their God did and it wouldn’t be wise to anger him.<br/><br/>Eve locked gazes with her fellow demon for a moment before returning her attention to her Vision Orb.  She would prefer they not be here but…<span style="color: #8080FF">“Yes.  He’s just about done changing.  He should be out soon.”</span>she responded coldly.<br/><br/>The sound of Sinners scampering away from the leftmost doorway pulled Eve’s attention in that direction just in time to spot the entrance of her beloved lord.   Draped in the finest garments Tethel could offer, the God of Sin walked his way towards the center of the Throne Room where the small group waited.  He was looking around curiously before his gaze stopped on his little queen.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">“I see you haven’t lost your.. destructive touch.”</span>He chuckled and turned towards his other guests.  He walked closer to Syndra, raising his right hand and brushing the back of it against Syndra’s cheek.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“It has been far too long.  Have you been well?”</span><br/><br/>Red eyes looked downwards at the brush of soft skin against her cheek, feeling a thrill of pleasure.  The God of Sin had always had that effect on all of his children.  It was what had drawn her away from the Light in the first place.  “I have been fine, my lord.”  She whispered in a futile hope that the softer volume would keep the desire from being heard.  She had based Victorie on her memories of her Lord but clearly time had worn those memories away.  Being in his presence once more, being the center of his attention, was intoxicating.  One hand clenched in an attempt to ground herself.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">“That is good to hear.”</span>He responded and turned towards the billowy presence beside Syndra.  He was unsure if he wanted to shake his bony hand or simply greet his old friend.  They had known each other far too long to have an open display of respect and acknowledgment from each other.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“Amon, what sort of dastardly deeds have you been up to?”</span><br/><br/>A rasping laugh emerged from the hood like a corpse’s death rattle.  “This and that, old friend.”  The first Exalted replied.  Amon didn’t bother with any displays of deference.  The God of Sin had sought<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>out to try the first Exaltation.  He may not have the sheer power the other demon had, but he considered himself more than an equal.<br/><br/>A knowing smile parted the God of Sin’s lips.  Had he not known better?  Amon had undoubtedly spent his time wisely in his absence.  Turning around to look at the entirety of the throne room, he adopted a questioning look as he noticed several absences.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“What of Raim?”</span>A shroud of silence answered his query.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“And Lillith?”</span><br/><br/>Eve’s heart pounded at the question.  It was mostly her fault that Lillith was… defeated by those wretched pests.  It had also been her fault that Lillith’s essence had been completely lost, though Syndra was a part of the blame for that as well.  She gulped drily, sorting her thoughts into place and her words into coherence.<span style="color: #8080FF">“Lillith… is gone.”</span>It was all she would say about that,<span style="color: #8080FF">“I don’t know about Raim.”</span><br/><br/>Gone?  No wonder he could no longer feel her connection.  Assuming his thoughts were correct, Raim must have suffered the same fate too given his similar lack of attendance.  Well, that was too bad.  They wouldn’t be a part of this new world he had been given a second chance to recreate.  Tough luck for them.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“A pity.”</span>he answered nonchalantly; he had heard all he needed.<br/><br/>He turned around and walked towards the throne, eyeing the marble seat with an amused expression.  The last time he sat on one was the time the Knights came for him all those years ago.  Would the same happen now?  Curiosity began to swirl inside him.  He had wanted to know the situation between his forces and the wretched Light for some time now after his return.  Who better to tell him than his generals?<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">“Now then,”</span>His gaze settled on his subordinates as he finally sat on the throne.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”</span>he asked, expression sharpening to that of his usual demeanor.<br/><br/>“We cannot wish to see old friends again?”  Amon wondered with another wheezing laugh.  “You have, after all, been gone for so long.”  There was a minute turn of his head as his attention shifted to the flustered blond demon beside the God of Sin.  “And there were some.. difficulties in your return.”  The venomous glare Eve shot him was easily ignored; it only prompted another darkly amused chuckle.  He had much respect for his old friend except his choice of consort.  Powerful she may be; intelligent she was not.  There was little beauty in the brute strength the other demon used to resolve her problems.  “It is good to see you whole and healthy once more, God of Sin.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #8080FF">“Our lord is back.  That’s all that mat—”</span><br/><br/>Her words were cut off by a simple raise of his right hand.  He was no longer in the mood for petty pleasantries.  The time they had now were better spent plotting or eating away at the Light that still lingered in this world.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“Friendship.”</span>he mumbled,<span style="color: #FFBF00">“Such a troubling concept is it not?”</span>his eyes wandered over to the Sinners that still worked on Eve’s device in the middle of the throne room.  They were just pawns, the lot of them.  What made his generals any different?  He chuckled at Amon’s final words.  While he appreciated their concern, he did not need it, though he found no need to say such if only to keep them loyal to him.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF00">“Very well.  It is good to see you all as well.”</span>His gaze shifted to the device,<span style="color: #FFBF00">“I have been wondering about <span style="font-style: italic">that</span> for some time now. What are we supposed to be looking at?”</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #8080FF">”A gift from me for your return, my lord.”</span>Eve immediately supplied the answer,<span style="color: #8080FF">“Lindela has been primed for an attack.  I thought you would enjoy witnessing their suffering.”</span>At her darling’s nod of approval, the petite demon spun to face the two demons before them.<span style="color: #8080FF">”Dear Exalted,”</span>She began with kinder words than she harbored in her hearts for those useless lumps who had done nothing to support their God’s return,<span style="color: #8080FF">”I think it only appropriate you lead the attacks on Lindela?  What better way to celebrate our liege’s return than to slaughter his enemies?”</span><br/><br/>Brown eyes gleamed with triumph as first Syndra then Amon bowed their heads in recognition of her command.  They had gotten entirely too independent in their time away; she was their God’s consort.  She should be obeyed.<span style="color: #8080FF">”Then this afternoon, let Lindela burn.”</span><br/><br/>The God of Sin smirked at the mention of suffering.  Ahh those were the days!  His eyes darted towards his two generals, nodding his approval as well.<span style="color: #FFBF00">“Let the festivities begin.”</span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 29 of Month -4, Noon :: The Grand Cathedral]]<br/><br/>Seraphim sighed in boredom as she let the shard drop from her hand into a tray filled with other faintly glowing jewels.  Her hand automatically dug into the box beside her, pulled out another shard, and started gathering holy magic.  Dear Light, she was bored.  A yawn split her face as she forced her magic into the quartz fragment and she rubbed the tears away.  Purple eyes looked over the room lazily in hopes of something more interesting.<br/><br/>Lethe was reading documents at the table, as usual.  Unusually, it was Valiar sitting across from her at the table; his head was also bent over documents of some sort.  Adair sat on the ground by the window, supposedly meditating.  His sword rested to his left and his shield to the right.  Huh, was there any reason for that unusual placement?  Pondering that question kept her busy for another two shards before she gave up; she couldn’t discern any underlying motive for the reversed settings.<br/><br/>With another sigh, the pink haired Knight continued scanning the room.  The only other person in the squad quarters was Leon but he too seemed busy reading something as he paced the room.  Boring!  She hurled the empowered quartz shard into the tray, rattling the pieces inside, and then stomped to her feet.  Everyone paused to look at her.  She knew Adair hadn’t been really meditating!<br/><br/>Seraphim frowned at the entire room.  She clenched her fists.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Is something the matter, Seraphim?”</span>Of course Lethe would break the silence.  Her younger sister lowered the documents she had been reading and Seraphim caught sight of the top of the papers.<br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Report 14927</div><div style="text-indent:1em;">Date: 28 Month -4</div><div style="text-indent:1em;">Source: Kaiser Outpost</div><div style="text-indent:1em;">Priority: Medium</div>With a gusty sigh, the pink haired Knight collapsed back into her seat and pulled out another shard.  After a moment, everyone else resumed their previous activities.  Seraphim couldn’t in good conscience bother the others if they were all busy.  Normally she’d have no such qualms but. . . A frown furrowed her eyebrows downwards.  These weren’t really normal times.  She tossed the umteenth shard into the tray and picked out another one.<br/><br/>Where had YunQiao gotten all these fragments anyways?  The older woman eyed the box of jewels beside her.  They were, according to YunQiao, regalia quartz shards, the scraps left over after cutting the jewels for their Faith necklaces.  They were normally thrown away but he had salvaged a few boxes for--Seraphim wasn’t quite sure, to be honest.  YunQiao had tried to explain to her but had stopped the moment he realized she’d completely blanked out.  Come on!  She hadn’t learned all the fancy words he’d been throwing around!  She hadn’t gone to the Pristine Knight Academy like him!  She’d dropped out of school in the First War and hadn’t bothered catching up on her education, except when necessary, since.  All she knew was he wanted her to imbue the fragments with holy magic and she<span style="text-decoration: underline">had</span>to do them one by one.<br/><br/>She was fairly certain that requirement had only been to tick her off.  When she’d asked why, he’d started<span style="font-style: italic">another</span>lecture.  Whatever, it was easier to just power these things up one by one than try to understand YunQiao’s explanation.  The work wasn’t even hard; it was just. . . dull.  Another long suffering sigh passed her lips as she returned to her original position: sitting on a couch charging up jewel fragments in a dead silent room.  Ugh.<br/><br/>The sudden skid of chair legs scraping against the floor startled Seraphim back into awareness.  Lethe was staring at the far corner intently, heavens judgment blades half drawn.  Leon was the next to react, spinning from looking at Lethe to the face the far corner as well.  Seraphim scrambled to her feet, her haste accidentally upsetting the tray of magic filled shards.  However, the pink haired Knight’s attention was on the figure appearing in the corner.  Prayer flared around her in anticipation before the stranger revealed itself to be the newest member of Team Prissy.<br/><br/>“H-Help--!” The brunette shouted before the thing in her arms--Divine Light, that was a person!--groaned.  “Lindela… is going to be… attacked.. soon..” The bloody mess warned before fainting.<br/><br/>There was a moment of surprised silence before Team Blonde sprung into action.  Valiar rushed towards the patient as Seraphim glanced over the room, caught Lethe’s eye, and then hurried out.  No doubt Captain would want to speak with the Council right away.  Adair had gotten to his feet and was moving towards the filing cabinets.  He returned with the lists of all the current deployments in Gless and Lindela.  Leon had pinned up Lindela’s map and was already looking over it.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Fiona, what else do you know?”</span>Lethe demanded, guiding the trembling Knight away from Valiar and whoever he was healing.  However, the brunette’s attention was on the two in the corner.  With a silent prayer for patience, Lethe took hold of Fiona’s face and forced it in her direction.  When she saw she had the other woman’s attention, Lethe repeated.<span style="color: silver">“Fiona, you’re telling me <span style="font-weight: bold">Lindela</span> is about to be attacked.  What else do you know?”</span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>A grim-faced Seraph left the Council Chambers.  She had just wrangled authorization from the Council for her and Guilford to be deployed into Lindela in light of the coming attack.  Her gaze flickered to the two Knights waiting by the messenger bench: Seraphim and Fiona.  The latter was still a bit pale but clearly trying to focus on the present despite her anxiety.  The former waited quietly in full combat gear.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Fiona, go to Squad Eight’s chambers and tell Guilford we’re cleared for deployment.  Seraphim, we’ll take three of the Cathedral’s squads with us as back up.  Inform Barracks Three and Six to send half of their reserves to defend the Cathedral.  Meet at the Elevator Shaft.”</span>Lethe didn’t even wait for the nods of acknowledgement before she turned her mind to the next task.  The veterans and Captain Abel needed to be informed.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]<br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">In a clearing on the outskirts of District Five, a stone arch started to glow.<br/>On top of Nythis Mountain on the range that bordered District Eleven, there was a flicker of blue light.<br/>In an abandoned building just shy of District Eighteen’s district limits, an unsettling rumbling disturbed the deserted neighborhood.<br/>At the bottom of the canyon that bisected District Twenty, runes blinked into existence one at a time.</span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>Cool red eyes surveyed the greenery around her.  A deep inhale filled dead lungs with fresh air.  There was a crispness—a<span style="font-style: italic">zing</span>—in the atmosphere that Palaugrim had always lacked.  It burned softly in her throat, the simmer edging closer to pleasure than pain.  Light. Faith. Hope.  They were so abundant on these lands they’d permeated the air.  Pale lips curled into a euphoric smile.  It would make destroying them all the more sweeter.<br/><br/>“Hurry up! I don’t have all day!”  Syndra barked, turning a scornful gaze on the Reapers still shuffling laboriously out of the tunnels Eve had set up.  These newest creations of Amon were slower than the originals, both physically and mentally.  It was the difference between humans and Pristine Knights, she supposed.  She snapped her whip at a particularly sluggish Reaper to motivate it to speed up.  Instead, it crumpled to the ground and halted the entire procession, the others apparently too stupid to walk around it.  In her peripheral vision, she could already see the others bumping into each other and forming a roadblock of bodies.<br/><br/>A sound of disgust escaped her lips as she stalked over to the useless Reaper.  A Sin-encased hand grabbed the waste of space by the chest, uncaring of the way her fingers pierced its flesh.  It struggled futilely but only accomplished knocking off its hood.  A half human, half skeletal face contorted in pain as it whined pitifully.  Syndra dragged it back to her previous spot; another crack of her whip got the Reapers to start moving once more.<br/><br/>Finally, her group of dullards finished their march.  Next came the Sinners and Pure Sinners; the latters’ normal solitary natures overridden by the God of Sin’s commands.  When the God of Sin told them to jump, they didn’t even bother asking how high.  They just started jumping.  And if the God of Sin wanted her to be overseeing this pack of idiots, at least there was the possibility of violence to sweeten the chore.<br/><br/>A weak scratching at her wrist reminded her she wasn’t alone.  When the demon looked down, the Reaper was still mewling pathetically but now it had taken to pawing at her arm.  “Hey. Hey!”  She repeated, the increased volume getting the Reaper’s attention.  An orange human eye looked up at her pleadingly.  “If you promise to kill at least twenty humans, I’ll make the pain go away, okay?”  Her face contorted into a sickly sweet smile, muscles straining to perform such an unfamiliar action, but the Reaper seemed ignorant of her artifice.  Its eye lightened in hope and it nodded enthusiastically, its hood flapping with the jolting movement.  “Alright.  I’ll be watching though, so don’t try to cheat!”  The brunette warned in a sing-song voice, casting a spell over the Reaper to enhance its strength.  The spell would feed off the artificial life animating the Reaper.  She’d never have to see the disgusting face again.  With a final rictus of a smile, Syndra released the Reaper and let it return to its comrades.<br/><br/>Trash, all of them.  Nothing more than cannon fodder.<br/><br/>“Master Amon won’t be pleased if you kill all his Reapers.”  A soft but venomous voice spoke up from behind her.  Syndra cocked a head back to see her guest.  Luminous gold eyes stared at her accusingly under a fringe of curly black hair.  A sneer formed on the puppeteer’s face.<br/><br/>“Know your place,<span style="font-style: italic">dog</span>.”  Red eyes flashed in warning; the air shimmered as countless threads of Sin appeared for a moment before vanishing.  A line appeared on the horned Sinner’s neck, fizzling in the Light-laden air.  Pale blue lips compressed into a tight line of disapproval before Anrui looked away.  Master Amon might rank higher than Syndra as the first to be Exalted, but she came nowhere close.  As if sensing her submission, the other demon scoffed but said nothing more.<br/><br/>Syndra flicked a hand out and scattered her threads.  They fell one by one into the army she’d been given to command, connecting those Sinners, Pure Sinners, and Reapers with her.  In her mind’s eye, she recalled the Districts she’d been ordered to attack.  “Come.”  She ordered, her command reinforced by a subtle tightening of her strings.  Her puppets moved en masse towards Districts Eight and Nine.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>Anrui curled pale grey fingers around the trap she called a necklace, its spikes digging into her flesh.  Just because she<span style="font-style: italic">used to be</span>. . . An animalistic growl escaped her throat and the sound immediately froze her ire.  A pale throat convulsed uncertainly as she swallowed.  No. No, she’s show that skank who was better.<br/><br/>Who cared about being able to rampage with a bunch of minions?  There was nothing glamorous about Slaughter anyways.  Malady had always been the best of the Three Sorrows anyways.  The reminder of Master Amon’s praise—<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>project was to be the God of Sin’s welcome present!—was enough to stir her into action.  Master Amon had requested she lead a force of Sinners as well.  With one last contemptuous look in Syndra’s departing direction, the horned demon ducked back through the teleportation tunnel.  She would not betray Master Amon’s expectations of her.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>“Keep those Prayers up!”<br/>“They’ve trapped some civilians in that house!”<br/>“Banish!”<br/>“Help me!”<br/>“Another group has been sighted two streets over!”<br/>“<span style="font-weight: bold">Smite</span>!”<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Gless]]<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Scribe!”</span>Omi paused as he heard a shout.  Was the person talking to him?  He was a scribe and a look ahead confirmed no other scribe was in front of him.  Perhaps the person was addressing him.  The redhead turned around, returning the reports he was distributing to his messenger bag, and started at the sight of Master Lethe walking towards him.  She looked distinctly unhappy.<span style="color: silver"> “Scribe..”</span>Blue eyes focused on him and there was flash of recognition,<span style="color: silver">“Omi!”</span>She indicated for him to follow her as she commanded,<span style="color: silver">“I need you--”</span>Her words were cut off as a heavy ringing filled the air.<br/><br/>Both Knight and Scribe paused for a moment as the bells rang.  Omi frowned at the sound.  Weird.. it wasn’t the hour yet.  No, it didn’t even sound like the hourly chimes.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver"> “Omi, find Captain Abel and tell him he will lead the defenses here.  He should be heading to the main courtyard but see if you can cut him off before he reaches there.  Then go to the infirmary and tell Sister Heidie to prepare her clerics.  If there are any willing to enter the battlefield, have her prepare them for deployment.  Tell any clerics you come across to return to the infirmary immediately.”</span><br/><br/>Master Lethe only stayed long enough for him to nod he understood before she was pacing off once more.  Omi looked uncertainly at the retreating figure before he turned to fulfill his task, hastened by the ominous chorus.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>[[Day 29 of Month -4 :: Lindela]]<br/><br/>Marion hacked at the Sinner, the poorly aimed blow enough to make the Sin creature turn his way.  The couple scurried away the moment the Sinner looked away with only a wide eyed look as an expression of gratitude.  The Squad Captain grimly blocked the Sinner’s retaliation, dancing away from the front legs as they kicked out.  He’d learned that trick of theirs first hand years ago when he was fresh out of the Academy.  A surge of holy magic coated his blade in<span style="font-style: italic">Penance</span>.  He was no Master Lethe but even he could learn some tips from the Seraph.  His next slash had the Sinner freezing as the paralyzing effects of Penance took effect. He struck it down with a grim face, blocking its dying scream from his ears.  There was a time for mercy and a time for rationale.  This was the latter time.<br/><br/>He turned to look over the square.  It used to be a small market famous for its artwork; now it was a scene of chaos.  Glass, formerly stained and sculpted into countless masterpieces, lay shattered on the cobblestones.  Paintings had been shredded by the rampaging monsters.  Pieces of pottery littered the ground, an impromptu weapon against the Sinners by a few desperate civilians.  Most of them had been evacuated by now, only a few Sinners and his squad remained.<br/><br/>A scream drew his attention to the left.  Some towered, hooded monstrosity had appeared.  If the bloody, metallic scythe was any indication, it wasn’t an ally.  (The oppressive Sin that surrounded it lent credence to that conclusion.)  Marion shot a Banish at the thing and successfully garnered its attention.  The unknown Sin Creature gripped its scythe close to its body as if uncertain of what to do.<br/><br/>“Penance!”  The chains of holy light erupted from the ground and pinned the creature in place.  An unnatural keening filled the air as it strained against the bonds.  The squad captain lifted his blade and steeled his heart.  He could try to save the Sinner but he didn’t have the time.  Though faint, he could hear other screams and more sounds of fighting.  Whatever he and his squad had stumbled upon, it hadn’t been isolated to this square.  Lifting his blade, he ran towards the snared Sin creature.  He would at least give it a quick death.<br/><br/>The thing struggled harder as its screams grew louder, seemingly knowing its death was coming.  Marion had just reached full speed, too close to stop, when everything<span style="font-style: italic">slowed</span>.  There was a burst of Sin and he braced himself for the blowback.  His Prayer condensed around him as a barrier.<br/><br/>“Ooph.”  At once, his holy aura dimmed.  He coughed a sickly wet sound and wondered why his lips suddenly felt moist.  The ground swam in front of his eyes and he slowly, painstakingly looked down.  He couldn’t feel his legs anymore.  A triangle of red and silver glowed near his stomach, protruding from his abdomen.  He could feel his magic dimming as everything grew hazy around him.  His sword dropped from numb fingers even as the agony in his stomach grew.<br/><br/>Suddenly he was falling.  No, he had fallen.  He had felt the impact of his cheek hitting the ground but any pain it spawned was overwhelmed by the frost creeping into his body.  One eye searched desperately for his killer.  He wanted—no, he<span style="font-style: italic">needed</span>—to know what had killed him.  From the depths of the creature’s hood, an orange eye stared past him, confusion evident in the human feature.<br/><br/>“N-Nine?”  A vaguely human voice muttered, “N-n-no. Te-te-teven?”<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>Romauld let a small sigh pass his lips as he stepped out of the Wyervia.  One hand massaged the back of his neck as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen them.  One benefit of having been permanently stationed on Palaugrim the past few years had been not having to fly around in these blasted tin cans.  It appeared that respite was coming to an end.<br/><br/>With another sigh, he let his hand drop back to his side, his spine straightening as he caught sight of a Knight striding down the ramp towards him.  He wasn’t expected to report in until tomorrow but had left Rasova a day early.  There was no point for him to mope around his town; Hamish was either ready or he wasn’t.  One more day of Romauld’s presence wouldn’t change that fact.  Instead, it was just prolong his men’s lassitude as they mourned his relocation.  He was glad he’d left such a favorable impression on them, but changes in posts were a fact of military life and Master Lethe had determined it was time for him to—his resolve faltered at the reminder of this next step in his career.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Seraph. . .</span><br/><br/>“Knight Commander Romauld.”  A gruff voice broke him from his moment of panic.  He still hadn’t completely reconciled himself with what was upcoming.  “Welcome to Lindela.”<br/><br/>“Captain Kobayashi.”  Romauld returned with a smart clap of his fist against his breastplate.  He’d never met the other man before but had been the recipient of many of his letters.  The older man ran the critical Wyervia Port that shipped Knights on and off Palaugrim, so they had exchanged frequent missives regarding troop strengths, reinforcements, and provisions.  “Thank you, sir.  It’s a pleasure to be here.”<br/><br/>The two Knights turned to walk down the landing strip, heading towards the command post of the Wyervia Port.  “So, Gless’s District Three, huh?”  Kobayashi began with a thoughtful hum as one hand stroked his beard.  It had been a surprise to hear that one of Palaugrim’s Knight Commanders was being relocated, especially to such a cushy job.  With the War raging in Palaugrim, he would have thought they’d want their most competent leaders on the battle front.  It seemed a waste of resources to him for the experienced Knight Commander to be relocated so close to the Seraphs.<br/><br/>“Yes.”  The brunette responded shortly.  He was well aware of the unusual nature of his move; he’d heard his men grumbling about it as well.  None of them knew of his potential promotion and the Seraphs wished to keep it that way.<br/><br/>The Lindela native shook his head in incomprehension.  “Well, perhaps you’ll have a chance to work with the Seraphs or their squads?  I hear they were sparring yesterday and all the Knights are in a tizzy over such a display of skill.  Suddenly my trainees,” the look Kobayashi shot the practicing rookies was half annoyed and half amused, “are all fired up drills and practices.”  He harrumphed as he crossed his arms but said nothing more.<br/><br/>“I’m sad I missed it then.”  Romauld responded truthfully; it would have been nice to see the Seraphs go all out without having to fear for his life.  They were what he had to match.  He needed to know how far that distance was.  “I’ll—” Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by sudden tolling.  All the Knights—no, all the people—froze at the unexpected ringing.<span style="font-style: italic">Clang. Clang. Clang.</span><br/><br/>Brown eyes widened as he deciphered the bell strikes.  Some parts were unfamiliar but the message was clear enough: they were under attack.  He dropped his bag to the ground and tore open the zipper, fingers grasping his staff.  Regulation dictated weapons be placed at the top of packed bags for a reason.  The sound seemed to break Kobayashi from his shock and he immediately started bellowing orders, a sweep of his arm and a shout enough to get the trainees running for the barracks to exchange their training armor for live steel.<br/><br/>“Where should I go?”  Romauld asked as his eyes swept the Wyervia Port.  Nothing seemed amiss besides the sudden frenetic activity as dockhands locked down the Wyervias.  The bells were still tolling of attacks but the exact locations were still indiscernible to him.  He’d have to memorize all the codes as soon as this fiasco was done.<br/><br/>“District Five.  District Eight.  District Eleven.”  Suddenly the bells changed tunes, their warning becoming more frantic.  “Our district is being attacked!”  Kobayashi shouted with wide eyes, starting to run towards the command post.  Romauld hurried after him.  Two squads were already assembling outside the base.  “Knight Commander, my second in command Matias and Knight Captain Petre.  Matias, head into the District to provide support.  Petre, send half your men out as well with Matias.  The trainees and the rest of us will stay here in defense.”  Both men nodded and turned to their own troops.  “Knight Commander Romauld..” Kobayashi began, uncertain of what to say.  The other outranked him but he had no idea what to do with the Palaugrimian.<br/><br/>“May I take command of the half squad Petre is sending out?”  Romauld offered, one eye on the four men being pulled aside.  There was a grateful nod before Kobayashi hustled away, mind already on other matters.  The bells continued to toll.