《Exordium Eve》 Prologue: Birth & Rebirth It was a dark and stormy night. A lone tower stood crooked, looming above a humble hamlet from the outskirts, haunted by its sins. Within the cracking edifice was an old man wizened by his years, hunched over a table with shoulders weighed down by long-lasting grief. "After so long¡­ It''s finally here, the eve of your return." A wrinkled hand with stains of blood that can never be cleaned, gently brushed aside pure white hair obscuring the face of a young woman laying upon the table. An ashen grey face decorated with stitches, much like the rest of her skin, covered by a plain pale dress. The corpse''s head weighed down heavily, by a large metallic bolt screwed through its width. A bolt polished and reflective enough to catch the light that shines from a small candle, ignited by a snap of long scraggly fingers. The elder, gifted in arts arcane, found his mind reflecting upon his many long years as he left the cadaver''s side. Years of study he had completed, years of life he had lived. Standing shortly after from a balcony overlooking the quiet settlement, a source of peace forever soured by crimes unforgivable. Unforgivable by the victims who are no longer able, unforgivable by the community whose world was forever tainted. Most of all unforgivable by himself, for if there was any other way he could have seen, it would have been taken. As the rain fell and covered the land, lightning finally flashed in the distance, and thunder rumbled soon after, shaking the man''s bones to their core. His trembling continued after, stirred not by fear of the raw power of nature, but anticipation, of how it shall be harnessed. Such excitement caused him to near trip over foot as he rushed back into the room behind, in which the table lay. Hands raised skyward in a beckoning gesture, calling down twin pillars of iron whose bases locked into place either side of the still body''s bolt. Pillars balanced by a beam above, where they intersect into a rod running through the top of the ceiling, its tip exposed to the elements. Between the excitement and the cold, only worsened by soaked through tattered robes, the mage struggled for nearly a minute to stop himself from shaking. Once steady however, with assistance from a flick of the wrist to become dry within a moment, aged arms spread wide to welcome a new tomorrow. Preaching to the heavens a bold incantation: "Cruel hands of fate, who stole away my blood, look upon us now! Gods who hold her caged in that which comes after, heed my call! Where heaven meets the earth awaits a vessel prepared to receive her essence! Where heaven strikes the earth I demand an exchange, one life for a hundredfold!" Outside the tower, which serves as it tip, illuminated a gigantic triangle engraved into the ground, encompassing the entire hamlet, and the innocents within. All of whom, sleeping in their beds, hear not the words spoken after. "Take now this offering, and return to me what is mine! So what is right may be restored¡­ So that I, may have peace. Come now, heaven and earth, bring about, a True Rebirth!" Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. With the last words spoken, lightning struck the tower. Light flashed, thunder roared, and then all was silent. - - - The Storm Followers didn''t know for certain what would await them at the site from which the column of light once shone over the horizon, but the barren wasteland now resting before their eyes wasn''t the first guess. Of all of the people in this world though, they would be among the last dissuaded by a land devoid of life, and so they walked on, from grassy plain onto dried dead dirt. Specifically five of the roughly thirty black cloaked and hooded figures did so, unphased by the faint spark in the air dancing amongst the flitting ash. Careful steps avoiding splinters of charred wood and fragments of shattered stone interspersed across the ground. Their silent exploration, save for the sound of quiet breaths, found nothing left standing higher than their ankle. Nothing, save for one. Little more than a shadow at first, silhouetted in the distance, barely visible in the dim light of the moon. Perfectly still as it was, the first assumption of those approaching was that of debris, jutting out larger than the rest. But as they grew closer, arms and legs could be noticed, it became more obvious the shape was that of a human, impaled through the head. Confusion spread next, as to how the figure stood in spite of the clear injury. Confusion replaced by surprise, as the individual came into view, as the group grew close. A young woman, no older than twenty years, stood before them, their height shy of five feet tall. It stood there, bare as a newborn babe in the moonlight, facing away as it appeared to gaze up at the starlit sky. Ashen grey skin, whether it be it''s natural tone or stained by the ash on the wind was not immediately obvious. Her short pure white hair was more overtly stained though, blackened with soot and scorched tips. Crisscrossing, intersecting all across her body were stitches masterfully woven, such work contrasting strongly with the seemingly random pattern that they formed. Distracted as the five were by the unusual discovery, it took a moment to notice the entity stood within a depression in the ground. Slight, but slowly growing. Likewise as they grew closer, the soles of their boots began to wear away. Air grew more arid with each step the distance shortened. For that reason they halted. For that reason, they kneeled. Before the source of decay. Before the source of death that they worshiped. At this sparks flew from the being''s metallic bolt, and with shuddering movements, she turned to face them. An ashen grey face, devoid of emotion save a mildly inquisitive expression. Translucent eyes illuminated hues of flickering blue from lightning passing within, rested with a blank stare upon them. Seemingly taking them in for a few moments. A few long moments as the cloth covering their knees has worn away, and the skin slowly starts to follow after. Until she looks away once more, interest taken by the sky again. Suddenly, a creak is heard, causing the heads of the five to jolt up, watching as her jaw struggles open. A rasp follows, as air grates against her throat to be taken in for the first time. Finally, a weak, soft, struggling voice enters the world, its meaning she does not know. At that moment, it is little more than her sole memory. A word without a purpose, from a creature without a purpose. Only: "Eve." Chapter 1: Weary Travelers "It has been two weeks since the discovery of the Foci. Its appearance was far from our expectations, but there can be no doubting our god''s will. The storm, divine judgement since age primeval, coalesced into human form as an avatar of death. The end, a fate shared by us all." Two people clad in black rested within a tent. The speaker was a pale, scarred tall woman with long raven hair, standing and recounting events. The hearer was a younger man, fresh-faced with medium-length hair as red as flame, sitting and dutifully scratching upon parchment every word spoken. "Don''t you think this is a little too dramatic?" the young man nervously inquired, during the brief pause taken to dip quill in ink. "It is truth." is all the older woman retorts, a scowl leveled with her single eye at the undesired remark. Shriveling under the intense ire, the red-haired man decided against speaking further, such was his fear of his superior in the Storm Followers. The silence lingered a few moments longer, tension growing, but before it had the chance to reach its peak and panic to descend: A face suddenly, boldly inserted itself through the tent''s entrance. "Char, Blaze, have you seen Eve?" asked a woman with pale violet hair, a tad younger still than the red-haired Blaze, barely out of his teen years himself. "The Foci, Lilac. Are you telling me that it has gone missing during your shift?" Char asked in kind as she whirled on her feet to face the youthful acolyte, whose name like so many in the collective was self-chosen after their hair''s colour. Representing a past discarded and replaced anew. "Of course not!" was the last word spoken, as the energetic Lilac disappeared as quickly as she arrived, sensing immediately the leader''s patience had already grown thin. Without even needing to watch Char pinch her own nose in frustration soon after, grip strong enough that it threatened to remove the protrusion. Already knowing the shift in priority, Blaze set aside the quill and arose to his feet, giving the ink time to dry. Although he was the only one among the thirty who was literate, a trait that was scarce in their corner of the world, he still had to do his fair share of physical tasks. "I''ll go find he- It. We can''t return empty-handed now¡­" he stuttered out, knowing the leader''s insistence on referring to the discovery with the same terms as their scripture defined. Although his own dubiousness as to whether or not they are truly one in the same does not go unnoticed. "We can''t leave the storm''s eye beyond our own, no. As inconvenient as it may be, it is our role to assist the herald in reaching its full potential." Char breathed out amidst a sigh of exasperation. Recalling how the scriptures debated whether the Foci would appear fully grown and prepared to perform its duty of bringing about the last days, or would take the form of a child and need to be nurtured before fulfilling its fate. She never expected what appeared to be a mixture of both. Blaze meanwhile hurried out to do his duty, not wishing to wait long enough for the chastising that would inevitably follow in regards to his choice of phrase and lack of conviction. Instead hurrying out of the tent, hastily pulling up the hood of his cloak as he does so. - - - The Storm Followers, one faction among many in a collective cult worshiping Tempest, God of Violent Weather, and in older interpretations: Divine Punishment and Destruction. The prevailing doctrine linking the cult''s factions together, is of the Cleansing Storm. A fabled planet-encompassing weather phenomenon that will bring about the end of days. Mountain-shattering lightning strikes rending apart the most powerful creations of civilisation in moments, forest-leveling gales blowing aside all of life''s meager resistance, and ocean-filling torrential rains that will flood what remains and wash it away. Leaving only a clean slate behind from which a better creation of the gods, may begin anew. The belief in such an event, and the desire to bring it about, was naturally met by the greater population with controversy, scorn, and eventually opposition. All of its followers therefore must exert the utmost caution in concealing their identities, lest they be hunted, imprisoned, and executed. Existence ended in short order, without remorse. The only fate awaiting for those of their faith. A fate either unbeknownst to, or uncared by, Lilac who ran across the length and width of the encampment with her hood down. Carefree smile clear for all to see in the light of the shining sun, especially emboldened by the disappointed expressions of her peers being hidden from view. Peers going about their own business, preparing to finish their break by taking the tents down and readying to march on. Despite her happy-go-lucky demeanour, such only belied the devotion to which she committed to her tasks for the good of her fellow followers. After all, it was during the prior shift when Eve went missing, and not her own. Eve being a name whispered among the younger, less strict members of the Storm Followers to refer to the ashen maiden. A name only Lilac was bold enough to use freely. A name which spread very quickly after the events of the night a fortnight ago. When the five, Char chief among them, returned with the Foci stumbling in tow and recounted what they found. Mainly nothing, save it, which seemed to follow solely out of it''s own curiosity than any efforts at persuasion or command. A name which the older generation refused to use, perceiving it as distracting from the Foci''s purpose. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Although the entity never gave the title of Foci much notice, the word Eve gathered a modicum of active attention, Lilac found during her past shifts. Easing somewhat the efforts to try and convey to her to rein in the aura of decay that she emitted. A strange enough ability by itself according to conventional understanding of the supernatural, constant and passive without any apparent will or effort required to bring about. A type of ability assumed by most, only to be possessed by gods and their most unwieldy creations, monsters. The rarity of the trait did not help the attempts to coach the being into limiting it, but eventually progress was made, now only affecting objects in direct physical contact. Which still made clothing arrangements difficult, but careful weaving and incorporations of metals more resistant to the process of deterioration made it possible. The awkwardness of much of the cloth floating a few inches from the body, only served to make the outfit and its wearer easier to spot at a glance. Allowing Lilac after enough interrogation, to finally track Eve down at the outskirts of the camp, staring at a lone dying tree. Seeming to have stood there for some time, given how she had sunk into the ground a few inches as it decayed beneath her. "Eve!" Lilac called out as she ran over. "We''re leaving soon, it''s time to come back!" her volume only increased despite closing the distance. Though Eve didn''t appear to pay it any mind, focused only on what was in front of her. Until a spark flew from her bolt, and with a jerk, one foot wrenched itself from the ground, followed by the other, and she moved to be directly next to the tree, just as Lilac caught up beside her. As tempted as Lilac was to place a hand on Eve''s shoulder to get her attention, she knew better after the last pair of gloves ruined and skin nearly lost in the attempt. So she watched, and waited. Eve''s arm raised and her hand reached out, making a hole in the cloth of the sheet-like cloak she wore that was in her way, and lightly pressed against the tree. Then into the tree, one inch, two, until the hand retracted, and Eve looked down at it. Watching as the flakes of wood and dirt that came off turned to dust, disappearing into nothingness in her palm. Her expression blank, thoughts indiscernible. "Eve, there are going to be more trees on the way back. Better ones. This isn''t a great area really, a lot of trouble here." Lilac explained, having a vague awareness of the state of the nation they were in at the moment. Knowing there was a pressing need for haste. After a few seconds, they seemed to finally note Lilac''s presence, turning to face her. Leveling her gaze, translucent eyes backlit by a current glowing pale violet at the moment. Before swapping quickly to a reddish hue, as she turned to look at the tree once more. "There you are! We have to leave in ten minutes!" the black hooded individual shouted as they sprinted toward the pair, out of breath voice unmistakably that of Blaze. "We''re coming, we''re coming! How did you get here so quickly anyway?" Lilac shouted back, irritation by the perceived progress being intruded upon, replaced by confusion at that fact. "The trail of dead grass her footprints leave! How did it take you so long?" Blaze called back, flabbergasted. Watching as Lilac''s gaze turned to the floor to finally notice the obvious trail, before quickly pulling up her hood and turning away to hide the embarrassment. Eve continued to stare at the tree as the exchange between reluctant friends went on, apparently ignoring as the question of why nobody stopped her was asked, and the retort of how given physical contact causes a missing hand was shot back. Mouth opening once Blaze''s steps had stopped, seldom though she spoke, such movements were far less strained in recent days nonetheless. "Good bye." did the words leave Eve''s mouth today, one of the rare exceptions, directed at the tree with a polite tone. Catching off-guard the pair, as she promptly turned around, and walked back to camp on her own. "... I still never know what that girl is thinking." Lilac chuckled with a small shake of her head. Believing herself to likely be the one who understood the new arrival the best, and that being not at all. "I still don''t know why we brought her along. Whatever she is, it''s none of our business." Blaze confessed tiredly in return. His mind only occupied by how unusual the situation was, and inconvenient. "Are you still going on about that?" Lilac''s head turned suddenly with a displeased countenance. "I''m not sure about the Foci stuff either, but it''s not like she''s a burden or anything. She doesn''t even eat! Or drink! Or sleep now that I think about it¡­" "Meaning she is prone to wandering all day and night." he retorted with dry observation. "And I don''t care about rations. There''s something¡­ Unsettling about her. About all of this." "Is it the bolt?" she blithely checked. "It''s more than the Tempest-damned bolt!" Blaze exploded back. "This entire thing, it''s not our place to meddle in, I know it." before his energy quickly faded, head dropping. "We''ve stuck our nose where it doesn''t belong and we''re going to suffer because of it." "You''re always like this. Stop being such a worrywart. She seems just fine to me." Lilac said as she patted him on the shoulder. Blaze looked at her, face glum at his point either being missed or ignored. His mouth opened, then closed. And with one last shake of the head and a weary sigh, he said: "Let''s just head back. Before Char finds more reasons to get mad at us." "Whatever you say, scholar boy." "Please don''t call me that." With one last pat on the back that nearly knocked Blaze over, he walked on with a grinning Lilac quickly overtaking him, back toward where the camp once stood. Now only distant figures waiting for their stragglers. Both following in the dark of Eve''s long shadow, cast in the wake of the setting sun." Chapter 2: An Obvious Trail "Alight, burn bright, illuminate our sight!" Lilac called out with a voice filled with exuberance, channeling the energy of nature around her, power gifted this world by the gods themselves filling her body and flowing out through her hands: To ignite a small candle a few feet away. As Eve sat on the grassy floor of their currently shared tent, watching with presumed mild curiosity. Gaze trailing as the candle is picked up and moved to be placed in front of her, and subsequently blown out. Flickering electrical violet eyes then rising, drawn by the sound of a single clap. "Now it''s your turn!" Lilac exclaimed with an exaggerated gesture to the stick of wax, earning only a continuation of the blank stare Eve directed at the standing follower. "I know I know, I think it''s pretty early too. Char didn''t start teaching me magic until I was here for two years. But you''ve got your death touch down to only your hands and feet after just a month, and I''m guessing that''s difficult, especially on the move and all. So¡­" Eve''s eyes, buzzing within with a light yellow, began to wander as Lilac prattled on. Desperately searching for any other reasoning for the teaching she finds dreadfully boring, other than the fact of being tasked to do so as part of training the Foci. Such going on for a solid two minutes straight until a pause for air is necessary. "Anyway- Eve! Just repeat what I said and point at the candle, picture it lit in your head, and do that a couple dozen times until it is. Pretty simple really." she explained after a deep inhale, a nostalgic look as she recalled the closer to a hundred times she herself required for her first result. Attention barely paid as Eve''s attention was brought back to her, and then the task at hand. "Most important part is not to get discouraged. Keep at it and one day you''ll probably even be able to do it by just saying Light, like Char can. Or even without a word to focus with at all, in a hundred years maybe." Lilac laughed at the idea, thinking of the mages in old stories who could will the world around them with only the most minor of hand motions. Such feats near unheard of in the modern day. The laughter continuing even as Eve silently pointed at the candle, a spark emitting from her bolt, running down her body via her veins, along her arm, before finally jumping from her fingertip to the candlewick, igniting it. The entire process taking only a second. Two seconds more of laughter until silence descended upon the tent. It became Lilac''s turn to stare blankly in surprise, before scratching her cheek thoughtfully, saying after a moment: "Huh¡­ Does that count?" and eliciting only a small tilt of the head in response from the briefly backlit blue, now pale violet again eyed girl. Before she had the opportunity to ponder technicalities further, a burst of activity was heard outside the tent. Sudden movement to and fro in a great hurry. Lilac barely having the time to stand before a red-haired head poked inside. "Hey! You could''ve asked if we were decent first." Lilac''s frustrated exclamation, replaced quickly with a brow raise of confusion. Expecting an annoyed rise out of Blaze that never came, instead occupied with a brief scan of the tent''s interior, lingering on Eve. "What is it? We''re just moving again ri-" Lilac began. "There''s trouble." Blaze interrupted, cutting in with tense features conveying the seriousness of the situation. "Oh." Lilac finished shortly, setting aside any bickering and straightening up. Hearing Eve slowly climb to her feet beside her, no rush or care at all to be seen in its demeanour. "J-just keep her here, out of sight. And if you hear¡­" Blaze stops himself with a sigh, steadying himself with a breath, as he remembered that they both are Storm Followers. They are prepared for exactly this kind of situation. "If anything happens, you know what to do." He then proceeded to step out quickly, not waiting to watch Lilac steel herself for the task of guarding the followers'' most precious treasure. Nor seeing said treasure tilt her head in apparent confusion as to what was occurring. - - - Twenty eight Storm Followers gathered in the centre of the camp, hoods and cloaks obscuring the tension carried in the air. One stood at the front, flanked by a pair on either side only a step behind, five total. All watching as a cloud of dust is kicked up in the distance, by fifteen riders approaching in the light of the rising sun. "As planned, I will talk. The rest of you, knives hidden and exits memorised. Most importantly of all, don''t, panic." the familiar voice of Char spoke, with a voice full of grit, a momentary glance spared to her immediate right at the frozen frame of Blaze. Heavy nervous breathing stifled by an elbow from the individual to his right in turn, the guard allocated to the scholar''s protection. As the leader of the Storm Follower''s words halted, so too did the riders'' charge. Or at the very least twelve of them stopped, adopting a battle-ready formation, tall lances and large bows visible even from a distance. Resting, but ready. A tactical decision which earned a frustrated click of Char''s tongue, preferring all to be lured into close quarters. Though she had little opportunity to consider alternative counters, as the remaining three charging at rapid pace caught her attention when they came into clearer view. All were clad in heavy plate armour with cavalry sabres sheathed at their sides. A surcoat worn over steel bore the insignia of the nation of Jorn, a pair of hands beneath a sun, symbolizing raising it up in respect and adoration. As distinct as the trio was, its lead stood out further due to the large military hackle attached to their head, whipping in the wind, and the incredibly large horse on which they were astride, nearly double the size of those flanking its rear. In less than a minute, the knights had arrived. A sharp tug on the reins slowing down their mounts to a trot. The officer, identified by their helm''s plume, directed their stallion to stop only a few feet away from the head of the cloaked gathering. The pitch black steed''s burning red eyes, large teeth as sharp as blades revealed by heavy breaths, and imposing muscular size quickly identified it as a Dire Cheval. Distant descendants of the union of horses with more equine-esque monsters, significantly more powerful and aggressive than the average steed, but still capable of being tamed, albeit with great difficulty. Distracted by the creature''s glare, digging a sizable hole with a single scrape of its hoof against the ground as a clear gesture of intimidation, it took a moment for Char to notice the officer had removed their helm. Revealing a pompous-looking man with an exceedingly wide handlebar moustache, currently in the process of making it presentable after the time spent constrained. Char''s nerves, set on edge by the clear threat of the monster-blooded beast, were calmed a tad by the sight of its rider. Replaced instead by disappointment, taking all her composure not to sigh, and instead draw herself up to hail the unwanted visitors. "Good da-" "Shh." receiving a prompt shushing from the officer who continued to fix his moustache to no avail for the next thirty seconds, blatantly ignoring the group he towers before, eventually turning to face the pair behind him. "How do I look?" Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "Truly perfect sir!" the feminine voice on the right side blatantly lied. "Absolutely magnificent sir!" the masculine voice on the left, also boldly fibbed. "Excellent!" the balding officer grinned, none the wiser, before putting on a faux-serious expression as he turned back to the waiting Storm Followers, hailing them in an attempt at a professional manner. "Ahem. You are speaking to Officer Charles Ewart de Jorn, acting on behalf of the Shining Sabreurs!" Upon the announcement, the pair behind him, and by extension even the twelve in the distance from what can be discerned, drew the sabres from their hips and raised them skyward, exclaiming: "While the sun may set, its glory never will!" which caused their blades to briefly emit a blinding gleam. When vision returned, Char and the rest of the followers saw Officer Charles with a hand across his chest, beneath his heart, with its palm turned up. Nodding in approval as he praises them. "Well said, well said. Now then, state who you are and what your business here is. Chop chop." Char, who had put her hands together so that her sleeves could obscure the nail-digging grip they clenched with from irritation, bowed her head deeply as a surface-level gesture of respect at the chance to speak. Keeping her gaze tilted downward even as her head rose up again, to hide her face and watch for any sudden movements from the Dire Cheval. "Of course Officer, we are the Explorers of the Empty, servants of the Void, passing through your lands on our pilgrimage." Charles raised a hand after the name Void processed in his mind, cutting in right after. "Void, god of night and darkness, worshiped by our sworn enemies the Noit?" he inquires, expression contorted to one of immense disgust, spitting on the ground beside him. The pair behind also spitting judging by the slight splatting sounds beneath their face-covering helms, and the flailing rising of hands in panic upon realising at the wet sensations now stuck there within. "... That would be Nox. Void is the god of absence. A common mistake, given how night is merely the absence of the glorious sun, after all." Char pandered, biting back the venom that wishes to drip out with her every word. Especially as Charles'' disgust was replaced by a cheerful smile from her pleasing statement. "Ah, of course, of course! A very easy mistake to make, do forgive. So you have nothing to do at all with those disgusting, despicable, ne''er-do-wells, the Noit?" "Not at all Mr Ewar-" "Officer!" "... Officer, Ewart. In fact we have taken steps to bless the ground we traverse, so that those of the nation of Noit, and all who would dare ally themselves with them, would find no security in solitude in your lands." Char elucidated in her smoothest, most elegant tone. A corner of her mind thankful for the burning equine eyes burrowing into her soul, preventing her from acting irrationally. At least so far. The pair allocated to guard Charles finally figure out to remove their helms at this point, revealing what look to be twins, with hair as blue as the sky on a clear beautiful day, contrasting the few strands of brown Charles'' own head has left. The latter coughing to draw attention from the embarrassing display of their wiping their helms'' interiors with their surcoats. "Ahem. Yes¡­ Pray tell, was the fate of Costa due to one of your blessings then?" Charles asked, overtly faking innocent curiosity, despite the mood in the air chilling as he did so. The blue-haired trading serious glances before the helms were donned once more. "... Costa?" the change in atmosphere not going unnoticed, Char bristled. Immediately sensing the change in those around her as well, Blaze starting to sweat, his guard tensing, and her own two protectors on her other side bracing for the worst. "You don''t know it? The loveliest little hamlet this side of Jorn. And with the tower beside it, it couldn''t be missed. Until that dreadful light cylinder at least. Now it''s nothing more than soil and scraps. A tragedy, wouldn''t you agree?" he rhetorically asked, though nonetheless awaited an answer, as his hand casually shifted to rest on his sabre''s hilt. "I see. It truly is, Officer. Though I''m afraid we wouldn''t know anything about that." she confessed, truth in her words, though Char still felt the urge to grind her teeth, already sensing what was going to be said next. Despite the steps taken to prevent it. "And yet there was a trail from the site of destruction leading right to you, reminiscent of the damage Costa itself had suffered. You see my dear, nothing escapes my sight." Ewart stated, brimming with arrogance. "It was me actually! Good ol'' papa taught me how to track with the best of ''em." "He tried to teach me first, but told me one day he caught moles with better eyes. Hurtful! But he wasn''t wrong." The feminine twin chimed in from the back, backed up by her brother. Eliciting their commanding officer to repeat himself in a curt fashion: "As my subordinates, your sight is mine. So as I said, nothing escapes my sight." "Nothing does, as you say Officer Ewart. We had visited the location you described, drawn by the very light you mentioned. I''m afraid it was destroyed by the time we arrived though. And our efforts to find survivors¡­ Were rewarded only by one of our number, receiving a curse." she explained, with difficulty. Even with the petty act of insubordination buying Char time, she still had to pause to reach for an excuse. Internally hoping that the silence was interpreted as distress instead. Silence fell for a moment, as Charles stared dubiously at the so-called pilgrim. Gaze then shifting back to the masculine twin. "A curse?" "Well, naturally occurring curses aren''t completely unheard of sir. Get an area filled with magic and negative emotions and they can happen. Usually catch them from battlefields, but desolate as Costa was, it''s entirely possible. Uh, sir!" the subordinate saluted with the same under heart, palm up gesture as Ewart demonstrated before. "I see. Bring them out then, l want to see this curse for myself." he pompously ordered as he returned his pale green eyes to the claimed Void worshiper. "I wouldn''t advise that Officer. We have been keeping it isolated to prevent the curse from spreading." "It?" "... Is not a pretty sight right now." Char claimed, actually biting her tongue at this point. Earning only a soul-piercing stare. "... Hm. And there were no survivors? Not a single one?" he asked simply. He would''ve preferred to have the pilgrim remove her hood to gauge her reaction better, but such practices were often part of worship, and incredibly taboo to trifle with. Never wise to insult the gods by intruding upon their servants without sufficient cause. "None, I''m afraid." Char answered, lying as naturally as she breathed. Causing a much longer silence to fall upon the gathering, lasting over a minute. Before a sabre was drawn. And pointed to the south, Charles announcing: "Very well then. You have three days to take that curse from our glorious nation, Empty Explorers. But know this, should you have chosen to deceive under the light of the glorious sun, then no empty corner of this world shall hide you from Officer Charles Ewart de Jor-" Before he had the opportunity to finish, the Officer spotted something strange. Two figures walking over from a different part of the camp, one cloaked and hooded like the rest, though the hood was stretched unusually wide, the other a girl with pale violet hair trailing after, trying and failing to stop them. Chapter 3: What Makes A Monster? A few minutes ago, back in the dimly lit brown canvas tent, Lilac was pacing back and forth as the only outlet for her frayed nerves. Watched by Eve, whose gaze drifted left and right as she stood still the entire time. Pausing as Lilac did, grabbing a handful of her medium-length locks in her stressed state. "Ahh! Why? We should be out there, anything could be happening right now, they could need help!" Lilac exclaimed as she turned on her heels to face Eve. The latter tilting her head, pale violet backlit eyes staring. "No no, you''re right. I hate hiding my face, and you stand out with your bolt, we''d only make things worse." Lilac confessed, starting to pace again as Eve tilted her head to the other side. "But what if it''s already the worst it can be? Other than Char, I''m the only one with any aptitude for magic! While you have the rot touch and¡­ Zap, point, thing! We can help!" she continued, as Eve''s head straightened and her mouth opened as though to speak in the background. "No! You''re right, you''re important. The whole Foci thing Char goes on about. If anything happens to you she''s going to have my neck, and the Grand Leader will have her neck back at home. We should just stay put, wait, and if anything happens, skedaddle." she goes on. As Eve''s mouth closes again in the background, her backlit eyes turning yellow. "Waiting waiting waiting, it''s always waiting. Wait here and watch the camp Lilac! You can''t go foraging, what if someone sees you? You can''t go and explore the cool light column place, it''s too dangerous. It''s your shift to watch the Foci, don''t be irresponsible! I mean I want to do whatever I can to help, do my part, but, but¡­" she ranted on, as Eve started walking towards the exit past her. "But Tempest as my witness, I! Hate! Waiting!" Lilac shouted to the heavens, only afterward noticing Eve stepping out of the tent. "Wait!" and proceeded to sprint out after her. - - - "Gods, at least the hood fits, took me all week to sew it. Come on Eve, let''s duck into another tent before someone sees u-" "You two, announce yourselves!" "Shi- Sugar." Lilac, after breathing a brief sigh of relief that she caught up in time to pull the Foci''s hood up, froze for a second upon being shouted at by the military man with a strange moustache. While Eve continued her march towards the central gathering unabated, leaving a trail of graying grass behind. In less than a minute, after Lilac engaged in a more than light jog to catch up, the pair stood before the moustachioed military man, off to one side from him and the Storm Follower collective. The hoodless woman needing to raise a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of a brilliant sunrise. "Hmph. To shy away from our gifted golden sun, what nerve! State your name girl!" the officer demanded, pointing his sabre threateningly as he did so, the blade glinting menacingly in the light. The pale violet haired cultist glanced over to Char, looking for an explanation and assistance, and receiving only a death stare in exchange. Turning back to the officer after and stating apprehensively: "It''s Lilac, uh, sir. Like my hair." "I can see that. Nothing escapes my sight." he coldly stated. One of the pair behind him raising a hand to interrupt, about the reiteration being unnecessary, before deciding better of it and putting their hand down and looking away to whistle innocently. "Stop that." and then ceasing immediately upon receiving the order from their commanding officer. "Right¡­" the word left Lilac''s lips without even thinking, confused by the display, another glance shot to Char practically pleading for an explanation. "Ahem, now then. The cursed one next. Who are you?" Ewart asked with narrowed eyes that looked to the trail, before drifting to- Who? A question the creation had yet to hear even after all this time. Some wore their self-serving intentions for it on their sleeves, others were more well-meaning certainly, but all had made their assumptions. All had drawn their conclusions, deeming it what they wished, with nary an attempt to confirm otherwise. Of course due to that it had no need to ponder its own existence, its identity. It had no relevance, no importance, no value. Until now. I look forward to seeing what becomes of it. "Well?" Officer Ewart continued impatiently, frustrated by the extended silence that fell for nearly a minute. "State your name!" "..." the entity raised its head, face obscured by the hood, the lighting of its eyes beneath hidden by the daylight, as it spoke in an emotionless empty tone. "... I do not believe I possess a name." "It''s Eve!" Lilac chimed, with an encouraging nod to the entity. "Her name is Eve." before looking up to Charles, not a hint of fear of the fully armoured knight or his monster-blooded steed. Earning a displeased huff as he looks between the two, not noticing at all the murderous energy Char was emitting at the display. "Eve, is it?" "... It would appear I have been given the name Eve. That is correct." she stated with a small nod, accepting the name politely, knowing of no alternative to challenge it with. None that she felt attachment to at least. "Quite." Charles states, pausing briefly, not sure what to make of the situation himself. Before deciding to brush it off as curse shenanigans for ease. "Well, unless either of the latecomers, or the rest of you, would care to be more forthcoming about anything else regarding our dearly departed Costa, I think we''re done here." "Eh?" Lilac blurted in confusion, as Charles began to turn the Dire Cheval around. "... Another boring day in Costa." Eve spoke, voice almost distant, with a relaxed undertone that seemed almost unnatural. The disconcerting shift and its contents catching the knight commander''s attention. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Excuse me? Could you repeat that?" "Another boring day in Costa." Despite the reiteration being more of fact, void of feeling, it still brought about a complete shift in the air. The officer patted his steed''s neck, to have it kneel down, enabling him to climb off its massive frame, albeit with great difficulty. Marching over to Eve on foot after catching his breath. Char moved first, her attempts at interceding foiled by the cheval''s greater speed, cutting her off. Lilac moved second, succeeding in standing between Charles and Eve. Though was only rewarded by being ignored, despite Lilac being taller than them both. Charles coincidentally near equal to Eve''s short height when not astride the giant mount. "Remove your hood." "You can''t be serious, that would be completely against our practices-" Char''s indignant shout at Ewart is quickly interrupted by a powerful stomp of the cheval''s front hoof, heavy thud kicking up a small cloud of dust. The officer meanwhile, only glanced up at Lilac: "Clearly." commenting dryly before focusing on Eve again, continuing: "A settlement destroyed, nearly a hundred lives lost, and a very important person missing. Presumed dead-" "Oh right, the court mage lived there!" "Wasn''t he disgraced?" "I heard he just retired." "And!-" Charles spoke up, causing the commenting twins to fall back into silence. "This cursed, thing, is clearly not as ignorant as the rest of you. That is justification enough. Now hurry up, truth or lie, all will be writ plain on your face when exposed to illuminating sunlight!" "Don''t you dare." Char cannot help aggressively warn through gritted teeth, knowing no good would come of the Foci''s existence becoming known. "Eve¡­ You don''t have to if you don''t want to." Lilac nervously said with a glance back, trying her best not to project her own feelings about hiding one''s self into the dangerous situation. And Eve, after a moment, simply obliged. Knowing of no reason not to. Dark hood falling back, frayed at the points her fingers made contact with it. Revealing her ashen grey stitched face beneath short white hair, sparking bolt, and yellow backlit eyes to the world. The last shifting to meet Charles''. Who gasped and stumbled back as soon as the sight processed, drawing his sabre and flailing it about, shouting: "Monster!" "Is that a Refin?" "Since when can humans make them?" "Since never, there must be another monster under one of those hoods." "Valiance! To me!" Charles shouted in panic as the pair under his command were too busy assessing the situation to act. The Dire Cheval immediately heeding the call, turning, and charging with the power of a stampede not to the officer, but to that which he wishes to destroy in front of him. Carnivorous teeth bared, burning eyes glared, running down the stitched creature. Which in response only turned her head to face the descendant of monsters, eyes flickering from yellow to blue. Causing the horse''s life to flash before it''s own. Prince Valiance Peor Esfort de Jorn, was renowned across the kingdom of Jorn not only for being one of a minuscule few Dire Chevals who survived to adulthood, but for even among his kind his temperament and intelligence was incredible. Such qualities contributed to his long life despite serving on the frontlines of the War of Day & Night. In this, his fortieth year, he had seen many sights that would break a lesser horse and a lesser man. In war, death was no stranger, the sight and scent of corpses a frequent view. The last gasps of the dying, pleading for help, family, forgiveness, always a constant echo. But these never bothered the thick-hided beast. Neither did the sound of combat, metal clashing, bones crunching. The sky darkening as the ground erupted in great duels between battalions of mages working in unison, nay, not a whimper. Even some of the worst terrors this world could wrought, witnessing curses that contorted the body into walking embodiments of suffering and pain. Refins, corpses animated by twisted magic seeping into lands scarred by conflict, tearing apart those they once stood beside. And of course, monsters. In forty years, Valiance had only seen a handful of the class of creatures one of its ancestors belonged to. One smaller than a mouse, with the speed and ferocity of a whirlwind. Another in the distance, larger than a mountain, shaking the earth for miles around with each lumbering step. The most threatening wearing the face of a human, with a mind far greater, far more terrible. Its wordless eldritch magic fraying the fabric of what was, what should be. Even a truce between two armies, mortal enemies cooperating against a greater threat, barely succeeded in felling the evil being. Never once before all these horrors, did Valiance feel fear, flee from a fight. Yet now, when charging the stitched entity, Valiance felt something. Perhaps it was due to the two short years he had served in retirement, allocated to a low-ranking fool in a cushy position away from the frontlines for it''s long years of service. Perhaps it was due to the experience gained from those years, knowing that the creature before him was no refin, that the air it carried did not match that of the other monsters even. Because for all their power, strangeness, malice, they still felt like they belonged in this world. This creature did not. That fact, more than any other, caused Valiance fear. He knew it was not as powerful as a monster, it could be felled even by the rejects that were the Shining Sabreurs. The stitched creature, the sole mage posing any threat, and the rest of the cloaks. In battle they would all fall. But before they did, before the stitched creature did, Valiance with highly tuned senses forged in life-long battle, knew that he would die first. The end reflected in the static blue behind its translucent eyes. And if there was one thing Valiance knew, above all else, was that he was not going to die today. Which is why he veered, sunk his razor-sharp teeth into the thick metal plating of Charles'' armour, threw him up across the saddle with utmost ease, and galloped away in the opposite direction before anyone had an opportunity to react. Leaving behind the stitched entity, raising a hand, stopping the motion as it watched the odd outcome. "Wha- Valiance! Put me down this instant! Kill that monster! Stop right now!" Charles repeatedly shouted orders upon deaf ears, screaming at the top of his lungs as he clung for dear life to not fall from the speeding steed. The twins meanwhile looked at the thirty Storm Followers, assuming at least a refin and a monster hide among their number, and glanced at each other after. "Tactical retreat?" "Tactical retreat." "Tactical retreat!" And with a single nod traded, they promptly followed after the sole veteran among their number, trusting their judgment most of all, monster-blooded horse or no. Calling out the decision to the rest of the sabreurs, who needed no declaration, turning around as soon as they spotted the one leading the retreat, sharing the twins'' sentiment. All of the soldiers disappearing over the horizon in mere minutes after. Leaving only the Storm Followers, gathered in the middle of their camp, bathed in sunlight. Most confused, Blaze quiet and nervous, Lilac tense and worried, Char absolutely furious as she narrowed in on the late pair. And Eve, with eyes back to yellow and hand lowering to her side, showed no emotion aside from mild confusion, or perhaps curiosity. What she felt, what she thought, was a complete mystery. More than a petty mystery. It was the start of something different, something entirely new.