by Zac Atie
Torrig jumped back, and unwillingly got between Yaevinn and the female Cazrian. Yaevinn attacked Torrig with fire against, but Torrig erected a shield. The woman got to her knees and placed her hands on Torrigs wound, and began to heal. Bastion jumped forward, to deal with them before they recuperated, and attacked Torrig dodged backwards some more, breaking off the shield. This was Bastion’s mistake. The shield broke apart and Bastion was caught with Yaevinn’s fire, knocking him off balance as he went through the torrent of flame. He was wide open when he made it through, and Bastion was hit full on with a bolt of lightning. It was strong, very strong, and was likely readied the second Torrig had attained footing. The blast knocked Bastion far backwards, flashbacks of what happened at the coliseum, although the knockback was not as bad. He crashed into Veronica, who was knocked out of her meditation, and was knocked unconscious straight away, as if she was plugged in to a socket and was yanked out suddenly. “Bastion!” Yaevinn screamed, eyes wide at what he had done. The fire had stopped, and through the bits of fire that had taken the platform, and the smoke, was the woman from before. She charged through, coming from nowhere, and a tremendous sharp pain pierced Yaevinn’s chest. The pain was incredible, although it began to dim to an uncomfortable numbness. He looked at his chest. It was as he had feared. The Arcana went right through him. The woman slid out of the Arcana and kicked Yaevinn to the ground, and Yaevinn slumped. Bastion was on the ground, hurt from the bolt of lightning, but he was still able to fight some more... but he couldn’t. His body would not let him get up, much like at the Coliseum. Why? What was happening? He wanted to check on Yaevinn, see if he was ok, but nothing was getting his body to move. His head felt light. He felt as if he was going into a slumber. His body was pushed back down onto the ground, as if it was willed by god. He cursed, as he closed his eyes. Yaevinn was still conscious, although he was beaten. There was a hole in his chest, and while the wound was cauterized by the Arcana, he would still die. Veronica was a great healer, but she was out cold, not that they’d actually let her heal in the first place. “Stop, Damnit!” The man said, holding the invisibility shroud. “What? What is it?” Torrig asked, halting his advance on Bastion’s body reluctantly.
“The smoke! There’s no ceiling to the damned shroud! Let’s go, now!” The man shouted, frantic. Torrig cursed, kicking Bastion hard in the chest, and picked the girl up. “They’re dead anyway.” Torrig chuckled, and they all ran out into the open after putting their hoods and masks back up. They’d likely be seen running away, but they’d lose all pursuing eyes after they broke the line of sight. Yaevinn looked over at Bastion and Veronica weakly. None of them were moving. His hope was lost, as his vision began to blur. A weak cough left his mouth, and he began to close his eyes.
Bastion was on the ocean again. The last two times here had been a wonder, but this time he lashed out in a blaze a fury. “Goddamnit!” He yelled. “No! GODAMNIT!”
“The Deity the paragon was talking about would be angry at such language.” Illuminos said. It was likely intended to be a joke, but his voice was as boring sounding as usual. “What the hell am I doing here?” Bastion asked. “My friend is dying, and the other has been taken by those monsters! How do I get out!?”
“My deepest apologies, but your life is now important. About as important as that of the girl, at this stage, but nonetheless...” The Illuminos said.
“What? What the hell do you mean?” Bastion asked.
“ I cannot let you interfere. I’ve rendered you unconscious, and if things go according to plan... I’ll let you awake again. There, you can look upon the dawn of the new age, and the new race, and you’ll be welcome to walk among it’s denizens, as a king. Perhaps even after Calamity is gone.” Illuminos said.
“You’re...” Bastion began to say, but something came to mind. His voice. While it seems dull and dead, it’s familiar. It’s accent. It’s the same as the three Sanctum members outside. “You’re a Cazrian... That’s why I didn’t see anything in the books at the Magi Camp. You’re not the soul of my Magic... You’re...” Bastion choked on his words. “What do you plan to do?”
“There is a lot to explain. Especially to one who has not grown up in Cazria.” Illuminos said.
“You said you’ve trapped me here. The way I see it, there’s plenty of time.” Bastion said.
“I suppose so... Hmm...” Illuminos pondered. “Back in my day, I loved to tell stories. I suppose doing so again will be rather... amusing. What do you want to know?”
“What you plan to do with Veronica, and why?” Bastion asked.
“That plan was made of Sanctum, in secret, to get ahead over their rivals for our favour.” Illuminos said. “A foolish move indeed.”
“Your favour? You’re not with the Godslayer’s? Or Sanctum?” Bastion asked.
“No. They do the bidding of my lord.” Illuminos said. “I am but a pawn.”
“And what do they plan to do with Veronica?” Bastion asked again, annoyed.
“They plan to use her as a vessel.” Illuminos said. “To absorb a great power into this world. Only she can do it.”
“Only her? How come?” Bastion asked.
“I don’t know the details, infuriatingly.” Illuminos huffed. “If they succeed, I’ll have no more use for you. But throwing you away would be a mistake.”
“Why would you want a great power in this world? What is it?” Bastion asked.
“The power is twisted. It’s corrupted. It knows not what it is anymore. But the power we speak of is of use to our lord, Overlord of all.” Illuminos said.
“Why would you want to do that? What’s going to happen to earth?” Bastion asked.
“It’s going to be put to use. It’s going to be fine.” Illuminos said. “When Voltrin learned of Earth’s secret, he recoiled in fear of the power that could be made of it. He ushered all the Magi back, and was going to seal the portal forever... but...”
“But what?” Bastion asked.
“He was stopped. Killed.” Illuminos said. “He discovered that planet by chance, as a desperate attempt to find reinforcements for his foolish civil war. Wars like that is what needs to be stopped, what our lord, the equilibrium itself, wants to stop! But, this war, came in use. This planet... Earth... was not made from the dragons...” Bastion had wondered in the past if this planet was a planet that was abandoned by dragons... but it seems it was not. Even so, why is that important. “Is that supposed to mean something?” Bastion asked.
“If you can’t figure it out, I fail to see the point in telling you any more.” Illuminos said.
“I deserve to know!” Bastion roared. “Earth is my home!”
“But It shouldn’t have been...” Illuminos said. Bastion was puzzled by this statement. “If you’re so bitter about what is to happen to Earth, blame... him.”
“Him?” Bastion asked. He thought back to the time at the coliseum. Illuminos said to Bastion that he was like someone. “Who is this person..?” Bastion asked. Illuminos chuckled, for the first time since Bastion had met him, and said. “Your Father.” The area began to rumble before Bastion could even react to what had been said. Bastion fell backwards, and the Statue of Illuminos began to break apart, having chips of rock come off it’s surface, and began to sink into the water. A whirlpool formed around the statue, deafening Bastion. “Looks like you’ve been saved from me.” Illuminos said. “How... Unexpected.”
“Wait!” Bastion shouted. He began to yell at Illuminos’ statue, as it began to sink into the ocean. Nothing he said made Illuminos respond to him, but eventually, when it was just the head sticking out of the water, Illuminos said, “Despair not. This is not our final meeting. I shall tell you everything, if you have not discovered the truth beyond layers of riddles. Perhaps even face to face... but until then, you will have to wait.” He laughed. “Oh, and grow strong. I did not condition and look over you all this time, since you were a mere baby, to have you die now.” Illuminos sank, and Bastion had no words to say anything
on what he had just learned. Sounds came in from outside. He was regaining consciousness... but the sounds were not of Surrey. Nor did it feel like Surrey, or, anywhere else for that matter. He felt... powerful. Bastion awoke... to a new place.
He was fully conscious. His eyes were closed, and he could see several auras around him, some below, some in other rooms, and one right next to him. He felt light, and he felt like he could breathe extremely easily. He felt a little dizzy, but he also felt as if he could get up and take everyone down. He knew what this feeling was. It felt like the Haven, only, it felt far more stronger, and constant. As if it went around all the globe. He already knew where he was, and his heart pounded. He was going to panic, but he decided he’d try and keep his dignity, for whatever was in store for him. A Cazrian was nearby. Her hands were pressed down on his chest, and magic was flowing through Bastion’s chest. She was wearing black robes, adorned with decorations of a dragon. On her left side was a dragon head, which blew fire down the cloak and round back up to the right side. It looked great, like a really expensive hooded top. Her hood was down, and she looked rather old in her age, but still rather elegant. She spoke to him, in an odd language that he could not pinpoint... not that he knew what all the languages of earth sounded like. Then, he remembered. The sounds outside, it sounded of machinery, and there was the zooming of cars outside, but the sounds of their engines were high pitch. Why? Then it hit him. A Cazrian was healing him. He never actually acknowledged what that meant. He was in danger. “Veronica? Yaevinn? Where are they? What have you...” He said, as he tried to sit up, but the old woman pushed him back down. He wanted to flip out, and hit her, and get to safety, but she was an old woman, Cazrian or not, she was still old and frail, or at least she looked it. She spoke again in an odd language, but only a couple of words, or at least he thought they were separate words. She made a hand sign that was familiar. A flat palm. She put her hand on his forehead, and shook her head, then smiled. She shouted a couple of words in her odd language, but it was not at Bastion. She turned and shouted, calling for something, or someone, perhaps? Bastion was certain he had been caught by Sanctum. His Magic Pool, from what little was left in it, felt lighter. More spacious. Was this because Illuminos was gone? He thought about what he said. He knew his father. Illuminos was an actual person. He called himself a pawn, and he said that his lord was trying to stop all wars. Who was this lord? And what does this have to do with Earth? There were so many questions he wanted to ask Illuminos, and when he had the chance, he had uncovered very little. He wanted to punch himself in the face, over and over for not asking and dissecting more from him. But that would accomplish nothing. He tried to scramble together what he had learned, and try to make sense of it, as he did not believe this woman was here to harm him. Why else would she be healing him? Why remove Illuminos from his body? But she has to be Sanctum. Who else could she be? He learned from Illuminos that he was trying to create a new age and a new race, whatever that means, and he needed Veronica and him to do it, but only if his plan with Veronica fails. He heard that this plan was made in secret, and that Illuminos never knew about it until recently, as Sanctum is tussling with the Godslayer’s faction for supremacy. He needs this race even after the Calamity, which he has mentioned twice, but never what it actually is. He knows who Bastion’s father is, but never made any mention of why he was responsible for Earth. He also talked about Voltrin, and how he was killed to prevent the portal from being opened. Voltrin was an Overlord, so him being killed must have took a strong individual to take him down.
The door opened, and a man walked through. He was wearing robes, blue robes and decorated differently. The decorations meant nothing, from the looks of it, the robes were just gilded. The man said something to the old woman in her tongue, and she turned back around to look at Bastion. She placed her hand on his forehead again, and replied to the man. The man said something to the woman, and she backed away, making room for the man. He approached Bastion, and looked at him closely. Bastion could see the man’s face clearly, and it was familiar. Too much familiarity was bothering Bastion, but he tried to pinpoint where he saw this man’s face before... then he realised. Back in the coliseum, when Bastion remembered Yula practicing Tartarus, she saw a face. Is this... Sheol? No. It’s not. He looks very similar, but not the same. He has a golden insignia welded into his skin, above his left eye. He could see what was on it... a diagram of a wretched, sharp clawed hand. On his right cheek was a faint smudge. Like all Cazrians, he was elegant, beautiful, and not very manly. He could be classed as a ‘pretty boy’, like Torrig. He could only assume all Cazrians looked like this. He looked like he had smooth skin, young, and he looked very serious, like he didn’t know how to smile. Not like Ivorian, who looked disturbed and evil, no, this man looked non-chalant, like nothing you could say could bother him, like nothing could faze him from him goal, like he had seen far worse than anything you could possibly throw at him. He had black hair, which was swept back, with one braid down the middle. He sounded very mature when he spoke, but still looked young. He placed his hand on his head, and Bastion felt Magic mingle with his brain. There was no feeling of discomfort or pain, but his mind felt numb. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” The man said, in his odd accent. He spoke English!
“Yes.” Bastion said.
“This spell allows us to communicate. You hear the sounds my voice makes, and discern it in a way that you can understand. It is not English, nor is it Cazrian. It’s simply your mind choosing a preference. It’s called Dragontongue, you can understand any language with this spell, even those of animals.” The man said. Bastion raised an eyebrow at the idea. That’s awesome! “I'm going to let go of your head, and you’ll need to sustain this spell on your own. Your mind will get used to it. Don't worry, it uses very little magic.” He takes his hand away from Bastion’s forehead, and moves back. The old woman smiles, watching. Bastion sits up in his bed, and tries the spell again. It’s tricky to pull off, but he ends up getting it, after the two Cazrian’s waited patiently for a couple of minutes. The spell was tricky, but it’s rather easy to sustain, like chaining up a bike. It’s tricky to chain, but once the lock has been set, you’d need to actually try to get it undone. Bastion looks at the two Cazrians, and asks, “Who are you?”
The two glance at one another, then back at Bastion. “I am Abaddon Valkari, Paragon of the late Overlord Sancterus, and this is Matriarch Tyria, of the Covenant of Dawn. She’s the most powerful healer in the known universe, and was able to remove that phantom implanted in you.” The man, Abaddon, said.
“Where am I? Why am I here?” Bastion asked.
“Why?” Abaddon asked. “Well. It’s because this is your home... Prince Zaxxarius.”
Chapter Thirteen – Birth of Zaxxarius
Abaddon Valkari
16 Years Ago
A dead city. Not a sound to be heard above the burning buildings and sparks of electricity… and of course, the wyvern that Abaddon was riding. The wyvern jumps over the fallen rubble and over the corpses of the dead citizens of Cienka, crushing litter underneath, passing over the grounds of an area that was filled with screams of fear just minutes ago, onward through the smoke-filled ruins, which Abaddon holds his breath through. The city had been reduced to this by a mere number of 1000 or so Domini, against a city with tens of thousands of Citizens. That is the threat that the rest of the world faces, the threat that will end up crushing Cazria under heel, the threat that nobody knows is present yet. “I should run back to Trinity and warn the council of Draynar’s betrayal, warn them to send warnings to Zolka, that our Overlord is likely to die and that the Domini are going to wage war again.” Abaddon sighed. However, as patriotic and dutiful as Abaddon Valkari was, his only thoughts were to escape the wrath of the Domini, and find the betrayed Overlord of Metholi. His biggest fear was his Overlord’s death, for he knew all too well within his heart that if Sancterus dies, there are no heirs to succeed him, which would mean an end to the Elric lega
cy. The best bet is that the responsibility for ruling the kingdom will fall upon him. As Sancterus’ apprentice, he must find and bring back the wounded Overlord. He and Sancterus were lured to Cienka to find the Basilisk, the former Azel of Adda’Gorath, and they were nearly destroyed by what they found. The Azel were weapons of magic created by the sorcerer Ultimali, and the Basilisk, the king of serpents, was one of these weapons. Sancterus had limped away from the approaching army of the Domini, with his wife, Katrina, within his arms. Cold, still, and dead, murdered by the one of the few that he trusted. Usually calm and collective, Abaddon’s heart beats faster now than before, during the heat of the battle that he was stuck within. Becoming an overlord is a great honour, and it bestows great power from the fallen monarchs of the kingdom… but Abaddon was no leader. He lived and died for the sake of his kingdom, and for Justice, but to lead it? He couldn’t.
