Old friends among the beasts

If people were to grow unsure every single time the magic council started being restless about something, no one would be able to live normal and peaceful life anymore. The assembly of men and women that were in the charge of magical world were sometimes overly cautious and overthinking everything while completely uncaring other times. Though if someone were to ask Leila just how many times she was called forth by the organization as a call for help, she would not be able to really answer due to how massive that number would be. In a sense, that also made the young silver-haired maiden proud of her own abilities and prowess. And now she even had a title of the first Rising Star to go along with it, once more giving her the power to actually make a difference in the world and shape it's future for the better whenever she could. But all of that had to be put aside for just a moment, as the female was currently in the process of preparing herself atop a flying Crouser, a special airship designed not for comfort, but speed! And everyone on board was doing their very best so that they would reach their destination as swiftly as possible. In front of the girl was also a box that contained various weaponry, ranging from your classical daggers to knives, shields and even guns. Not that she was really going to be using any of those, considering she had her own fighting style where she would 'grow' her own weapons when the need would arise. There were also other mages on board, however, some of them reaching for the steel they fully intended to wield. And to be fair, the one who was here with the girl was going to be using a lot of weapons too. She was, of course, talking about her mechanical father who stood right behind her, towering over everyone as usual.

So, what exactly was going on here? Well, it seemed that reports came into the magical council and kingdom of Fiore as whole that some sort of army was approaching from the Cursed Lands. But not your ordinary army, as one would have it. A monster one. Some of the sightings included cyclops and multi-headed snakes, several soldiers even claimed to have spotted the mysterious creatures called Griffins. Not only did this intrigue Leila from the perspective of filling up her bestiary and studying the unusual enemy, it was also her duty as a mage of a legal guild to prevent any harm to be done to the innocent people of this nation. If this really was an army advancing toward occupied villages and towns, then there was a massive problem and she had to aid in fixing it. But still, the thought of facing an entire army was actually making the hair on her body stand up, a terrific image indeed. If something like that was happening even to the usually fearless Eden witch who was a sort of a small army in herself with the summoning magic and all, then only the fools must have been completely unphased by this. With a sigh, the girl wound stand up from the boxes of armor and weapons, turning around to face the Machias before looking around at the other mages and warrior present.

"Surprisingly lot of people turned up for the call to arms, huh? It's actually quite releaving, knowing that there will be at least someone guarding our backs."

"Do not let your guard down because of something like this, Leila. There are people here, yes. But how many of them will actually prevail on the battlefield? And I do not mean how many will fall prey to the enemy, albeit there will be some like that. I mean how many will not run the moment they see one of those monsters? Being part of the party that managed to turn the tide of a war will bring fame to the name you have. Many are here merely because they seek fame, not to be of any actual help. You will do best keeping my words in mind."

While hearing all that was a bit saddening, it was probably the truth, causing Leila to nod to her father as she looked around one more time with shifty eyes, trying to judge personalities of the people she saw by their looks and behaviour. And possibly if there was someone she knew she could trust on a mission like this one.

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

When the council began to distribute their plead to the majority of the wizard populace, Torian's attention was decidedly elsewhere as the news of a mass threat slowly began to inject doses of hysteria across towns. It hadn't occurred to him that an especially important governing body in Fiore would have the ability to ask for aid from everyone, much less from him, whose existence was about as transient as a brief billow of wind. It was to his surprise, and ensuing misfortune, that the call to service hadn't any plans of exempting him from the fiasco, and would promptly force him to board an airship that encased an impressive collection of mages of varying appearance, whom were all traversing a common route to the monster-infested area, as the council described it.

Perhaps if the beasts awoke from their slumber far sooner, Torian would have exhausted every known excuse to wiggle himself out of the situation due to his dysfunctional social skills. But the malefic plot seemed to conveniently happen a few months after he first realized the state of his head and the emptiness that followed. Now that his personality was beginning to restore itself somehow, his episodes of anxiety dwindled into almost sheer nothingness as Torian outgrew his shyness by verbalizing his thoughts - a trait he lacked upon the first few days of his memory loss.

Regardless, this didn't imply that he held no negative sentiment to the ordeal. He knew that his progress with the recollection was waning thin from all his dilly-dallying, and the magic council's urgent request didn't do him any measure of good apart from the regular reward that a wizard would sow. It wasn't all that damaging to his plans in retrospect, but being thrust into a group of strangers on a high-risk job so abruptly would catch anyone off guard. It was only normal to feel uneasy around a multitude of foreign faces, most particularly in a situation that demanded a bond of camaraderie - something he couldn't forge within a span of a few minutes.

Or so he thought.

The swordsman idly rubbed a finger over his temple as he seated himself as far as he could from the hoard of mages, finding solace in the dark, silent spaces that they left behind once they crowded around the crates of, as per his assumption, varied weaponry that must've been funded by the council. Whatever dictated them to hand these out in generous amounts was beyond him for a number of reasons, but mostly because he needn't fuss over it, knowing fully well that he could function decently with the Etherblade like any other man with a sword.

'Your skills in deflecting attention is really something.' spoke the origin spirit, his smile almost tangible through his choice of words, 'And here I thought you were over that emo phase of your's.'

Torian clutched at his sword's handle with a harsh grip, his knuckles turning white to match the frown that strew negativity all over his face, 'One, it's not a phase, and two, I know I've gotten better, but these people aren't exactly...the type I'd want to associate with.' he spat, fabricating hostility like he always did when the bickering started.

'Pish posh, they're pretty much made of the same material as you, all meat and bones and that funky stuff you call Ethernano.' the spirit's essence seemed to waver for a moment, an intense surge of a teasing, tickling feeling worming into the Chronicle, 'You'd rather talk to a dead man all day? I didn't know you appreciated me so much~'

'Wait wha- NO. An hour talking to you is enough to give anyone a mental disease!'

'Assuming you hearing me isn't already a symptom.'

As the grit between Torian's teeth increased, so did his presence, and somehow the air of stillness that surrounded his tiny space started to melt and fade, revealing a very irate man in a matted white hood, though his tiny frustration was within reason. Torian's conversations with the origin spirit were subject to becoming senseless bickering, usually performed in a way where the ancient soul had him by the neck with insults a plenty. Although there were some occasions where there was more encouragement than trying to egg on his ego, it seemed the spirit possessed a talent in making his vessel tick like a timed-bomb.

And that was something he couldn't really comprehend - what does either party gain from it? Shouldn't dead men be senile, wise, and quiet? The origin spirit was none of those qualities.

'Dammit, I only put up with you becuse you're in my head.' he huffed, deciding that he'd conserve some mental stability by observing the normality that occurred him as opposed to whatever chaos was going on his thoughts, circling his fingers around his Etherblade as he did so.

'Correction, I'm the only thing in your head. You've got no choice~.' the spirit chirped, the energy that made up his fragile form sparking in and out of giddiness.

There appeared to be no lee-way of escape from the barrage this time, it seems.

All that said, it was also somewhat disappointing, the fact that she had not seen a single person she would recognize on this ship. Did no one from the other legal guilds come here to perform heroic acts and save the day? Or maybe it was just that she had chosen such an unusual method of transportation to the battlefield. It was highly probable that members of a same guild or group would stick together and arrive at Fat Monsterland by their own means rather than taking an official transport from the magic council, considering how much mages didn't trust that particular group of leaders these days. It was pretty clear that most mages on board right now were guildless, aspiring ones that did not know any better and thus were here without knowing most of the risks involved, only chasing the elusive rewards. But, well... at the end of the day, these people were not the girl's worry. For she had to just look out for herself, and her father that was with her. Was that cruel from her? Maybe. She was the Rising Star number one, after all, the hero of people. And despite thinking different in the past, she does like that position, the recognition she sometimes gets.Quite funny how that works... she used to question the morality of these heroes so much in the past, thinking that they were nothing more than weapons directed by a higher force toward the enemy so that the leaders could claim the victory for themselves, nothing more. A title means to confuse the common folk and give them a false sense of security. But now that the silver-haired maiden was one of them? Well, no one has tried to control her for their own goals so far. Unless you were to count regular jobs a mage had to take on a daily basis, but that just had to be expected.

"Hypocrisy at it's best, huh? In any case, I think we're almost there."

Gesturing toward the nameless golem, the due would start walking toward the edge of the airship, peering over the railing to gaze at the vast land far beneath them. If not for the fact that this place was home to so many monsters, one would not even be able to tell it part from any other part of Fiore. Quite a shame, as it could have served for so many new settlements. Or perhaps it yet could if they were to do a good job. Looking in the distance, small dots already started littering the ground, the enemy forces gathering beneath them and ready for a royal rumble! It was actually a bit of an unknown where the ship itself wanted to land, considering they were now approaching the enemy territory. And in all honesty, it would probably best if they were to distribute parachutes to everyone right now so that they could jump and attack from above. Trying to observe it all and formulate a good strategy, there was something in the corner of the witch's eye that had caught her attention, almost forcing her head to turn to the side and observe a gentleman who was nearby. Blond hair, a white cloak, sword nearby... he seemed strangely familiar. It took few seconds before the memory was found, but Leila remembered! They have met in the past, at more than just one occasion too! Quickly hopping away from the railing, she hurried to his side as the panicked golem at the sudden reaction followed close by.

"Mister Torian?!"

She was quite delighted by this random encounter, considering she had not seen him in such a long time. Though the pleasant reunion was swiftly cut short by something ramming into the ship with enough force to actually tilt it. At first glance, it seemed to be a creature of some sort, a griffin perhaps? But there was very little time to be actually thinking about that, considering that the girl was now falling over the edge. And instinctively, she had grabbed onto the blond-haired boy's hand, most likely dragging him down with her. Soon enough, they would find themselves falling to their doom from the airship. Or at least that would have been the case if not for Leila's magic which excelled in many different areas. Tree branches and twigs would quickly penetrate her outfit as they started growing from her back, forming wings of leaves and petals in an instant. Catching Torian in the process, she would carry him to the ground like a beautiful princess, letting go of him once her feet touched the ground. Close behind her, the nameless golem landed himself, as he too was capable of forming wings that saved his mechanic life.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?!"

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

In the event that the swordsman encounters a soul with even the slightest memories of him, his reaction is almost always an awkward mix of confusion, awe and anxiety, but mostly the latter; and it was only very recently that he'd decided to don a relaxed disposition when someone unfamiliar refers to him by his first name. This should've been how it played out as soon as the girl with the fairly ornate ensemble called out to him from across the ship, her figure quickly wiggling through the hoard of people, somehow managing to edge her way into the bubble of limited space that he'd have fixed for himself in the process of things - all done in a single, sparse moment of chance, as if the fates saw the time right for that particular meeting.

"E-eh?"

Though Torian's expression of surprise was steadfast upon his paling face, his resolution to stay calm and collected never fled his mind. Hope, however, became a redeeming factor in his thoughts as he spared her a single glance full of some unbridled optimism that maybe, just maybe, a part of the old him would return through her presence alone.

However, the encounter was not without dire consequence. It seemed that whichever deity who was in control as of the current flow of events saw it amusing to tip the ship over by causing a mysterious...'creature' to bump against its exterior, the impact causing the air-borne vessel to lean at a sharp angle, simultaneously calling upon the forces of gravity to pull downward on the people aboard the ship.

If it hadn't been for the impulsive grab that the frothy haired maiden made due towards his wrist, the anti-climatic falling motion would have probably been avoided. But as their descent continued, the swordsman would eventually make terms with what transpired all-together, feeling the weight of the situation as his body leveled in the strange girl's arms, her existence becoming even more enigmatic as a pair of wings sculpted from branches and petals sprouted behind her, the wind wreathing gently through them as their momentum slowed.

Needless to say, as soon as they hit the solid earth beneath, a portion of his manly feelings manifested after laying dormant from the shock; taking form of a single, piercing voice that ultimately began to eat away at his self-esteem as he quickly shuffled out of the girl's hold.

'Wew,' the origin spirit whistled, 'And here we have a prime example of a prince being saved by the princess.' he'd say, conveniently wedging a snicker between his flow of thought, openly mocking his vessel like he always had, 'Oh, wait, isn't it supposed to be the other way around?'

There it is - the open declaration of war. The subtle warning the spirit sent became an ingrained system in him, where the first shot fired demanded a retort no matter what the situation at hand. That tradition, which almost instinctively prompted Torian to amass a large pile of insults just for the spirit and how it was starting to sound sexist, apparently withdrew to a postpone as soon as a large, mechanical thunk-ing sound hit the surface a few seconds after their landing. Peeping behind the definitive feminine figure of the stranger before him appeared to be a robot with a considerably gigantic build, towering over their forms with a dark, looming shadow. It appeared as though it flew down with them, standing close to the woman almost protectively.

By the gods, what sort of life was he living before that allowed him to even be in the same space as these people, who gave off the impression that they were a few leagues above him?

His inferiority complex would later yield to the maiden's voice, who, upon closer inspection, seemed to sport characteristic patches of gray skin across her person, which only further emphasized his awe in a sense.

"Ah...err...well I uh...I'm okay." he mumbled, scratching his cheek as he searched his current vocabulary for the right words, which was quickly regressing the more awkward it felt, "It wasn't your fault."

Wiggling within his subconscious, the origin spirit began to incorporate a more lax position, spreading his existence thin as he laid flat against the Chronicle floor. Perhaps he was aware that Torian would eventually fuss up and tell the young woman of his untimely circumstance one way or another, and when he does, the spirit would hold an honorary moving up ceremony for his small triumph against that self-deprecating personality of his.

If he managed that much, anyway, trouble brewed in these foreign lands that they've placed in, and it echoed a menace throughout the Chronicle, the glass sea beneath somewhat wavering thinly from the formation of tiny ripples that it almost disrupted the spirit's flow of serenity, had it not been for his trust in Torian's level of mastery as of late, and having a partner with seemingly equal caliber made their victory only that more apparent. They virtually had nothing to fear.

Didn't they?

"Err...right, before anything gets in my way, I'd like to mention how...I may not be the same person who you used to know." he began, coming to a solid conclusion that she knew him just by her knowledge of his current name, a reassuring thought despite all the trouble that occurred, "Well, its safe to assume you knew me anyway, so uh...yeah, going straight to the point...I have-"

Someone, or something, apparently didn't favor their listless exchange and prompted a sharp streak of malice to overflow from the area around them, a batch of inhumane noises of varying degrees slithering through the gaps in the darkness beyond.

Driven by impulse for so long, the swordsman threw himself into a familiar stance, his hand slipping past his waist as he lightly edged his weapon out of its sheathe, the small tingle of metal causing a vibration of adrenaline to lightly thrum at his nerves.

"Dammit, really? Why now?" Torian whispered under his breath, his movements minimal, "...Appears as though we've been surrounded, miss."

While their circumstance was truly something awkward due to the events that happened to both of them, ones invisible to the other person, it was far from bad. Leila was still very excited to see her old friend that she did not meet in ages, despite trying to look for him as soon after their latest contract together. Was that when they defeated those slave hoarding pirates? Or maybe something else... ah, it has been so long that even the Eden's witch did not properly remember. And suffice to say, the gentleman's words were also a tad bit confusing to the lady across to him, as she easily misunderstood the way he meant that he may not be the same person she remembered.

"Surely it hasn't been that long! You still look the same and your words are as fancy as ever~"

At this point, it appeared as if her body was somewhat shaking. And it truly was, with anticipation and feelings she couldn't rightly describe. It was a shame that Torian did not have the fluffy cat with him like the other times, but that was fine too. She was just glad that she could meet him again. But why restrict herself? Ah, right... she chose to live her life more how she wanted, did she not? Then there was truly no point in holding herself back as much as she did right now! Finally relaxing her body, her form would suddenly jet out, swiftly moving toward the boy as she wrapped her arms around his chest in a hugging motion, her body pressing against his. Did she ever even hug someone like this? There was a good chance she did not, as she did not remember. But everything has to be for the first time at some point, right? But it did not last very long, for they were quickly surrounded just as he said. Making some distance between them, Leila would smile and the horde of snakes and Chimeras. So this was the part of a monster army they were supposed to stop? That made things all the easier if they didn't even have to worry about landing to be deployed into combat. But something peculiar caught the maiden's eyes, as she noticed a shadow landing behind the enemy lines. The same shadow that crashed into the ship before, a Griffon!

"If we don't take that one down quickly, it might try to attack the ship again and cause some serious injury... okay, with these numbers, it's justified to go all out from the very start!"

Shouting that out with a considerable dose of enthusiasm, the girl produced a golden key from her somewhat complex attire as she took several steps forward, pointing the magical tool at the army in front of them, her magical energy starting to course through it. Such actions would make the summoning key glow with a blinding light as the space in front of her started warping on itself, a gate opening and allowing passage for one of the most powerful celestial spirits in this world.


A magical circle would form in front of the key and a beautiful dark-skinned female in an oriental dress with a katana would step out, one of the twelve Zodiacs! She herself was a force to be feared on many occasions. But there was still more. After all, the girl said she was going all out! She had an even stronger ally than this, though one she couldn't really control at all. But that was fine, for they had a strong bond still. They were one and the same, their souls resonating. Rising her hand to the skies, she would start chanting again!


A giant magical circle would form in the skies, easily overshadowing the entire battlefield and causing clouds to start swirling around in a forceful motion. From the center of this giant magical circle, a light started descending gracefully. One that would finally touch the ground and burst into pieces, revealing the fact that it was hiding yet another female. This one of pale skin with very complex garments, several pairs of different wings adorning her back, staff firmly in hand, brown tail below the wings and a blue halo above her head that also boasted a pair of animal ears. That was Aurora, the goddess who created Gardens of Eden, home to Leila herself and many other spirits.

"The enemy is right ahead of us! The three of us can probably take on the Griffon, do you think you can start thinning their numbers in the meantime, Torian? Father, you too, please!"

As she along with her two spirits started quickly moving toward the greatest thread on this battlefield, the golem quickly moved behind Torian's back so that neither of them would expose their blind spot to the enemy.

"Leila holds you in high regard. It will be the greatest of honors to fight alongside you!"

With those words, the stitches in the middle of his face disappeared as the golem's face plate opened, revealing a giant vertical crimson red eye that started instantly scanning all the enemies around. And in an instant, both of his hands would start transforming into what appeared to be an advanced weapon, several iron spikes jet out of his back and pierced to the ground to secure his position and make sure he would not be moved by the force of his own power. Moving what were once his appendages into the air, mortars started firing into the air and landing on the monsters nearby, both throwing them into chaos and dealing considerable damage to them at the same time. This was the scale at which Leila could fight with those she loved and those who loved her back by her side. This was... the power that obtained the Rising Star number 1!

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

"Huh? Wait, I don't think-...!"

Listening to her words was one thing, watching her was another - the latter further trumping the former in a matter of bewilderment as the frothy-haired maiden quickly moved to obliterate the hoard around them, her movements refined and tested. In a short display of insecurity, his shoulders turn slack, as if his resilience was slightly dampened by the girl's confidence, something that he clearly lacked the capacity to mirror. For the swordsman, to consider him having left even the slightest significance on her life was the most pretentious thought among all the weird assumptions he's had all day, and with the origin spirit's existence among the gaps in his brain, that was already saying something.

However, a vital piece of information in the form of attacking as a priority was passed along as the young woman produces a golden key between her fingers, a short slew of enchantments calling to whatever magic it contains. The shine then dispersed into a maiden clothed in a pretty oriental costume with a matching sword at her aid, a sight that instinctively coaxed Torian to gently palm his etherblade in response, reveling in the rare instance involving a similar structured-sword being in the same space as he.

Not allowing a seconds-worth of pause, the young woman directs an arm to the heavens, the words to an enchantment readily slipping from her lips prior to the descent of what Torian could only define as angelic, where his vocabulary appeared to have dulled significantly under the influence of awe. The appearance of the winged maiden, along with the lady and her katana expelled certain auras that compelled him to believe that they were more than ready to deal a good number on whatever was unfortunate enough to be in opposition. More so when he'd regard their summoner as she was, which, although it managed to staple her power level, seemed to create a slightly wider rift between them - any semblance of their old relationship blurring into the backdrops as time quickly passed, and there was no helping the amount of guilt that steadily built up over it in his system.

Strangely enough, it was in these specific moments of weakness that triggered the old man in his head to crack an insult or two, but a solemnity unknown to him wafted through out the Chronicle, the stillness somehow haunting him, despite how frequently he requested for the spirit to shut up, and how often the old man would ignore the plead. Whatever attempt he had to call out to the silence was soon to be tossed elsewhere though, as a visible sense of awareness steadily began to wash over his person. With the subsequent attack of the girl's mechanical companion, and a remarkable one at that, most if not the entire mob of monsters closest to them was neatly eradicated. The swordsman would only furrow a brow at the horrific state of the creatures upon his own personal inspection, realizing that their bodies looked like nasty mixes of several other animals into one, piles of them writhing from the shots that the giant had seamlessly fired.

Good riddance, he thought.

Needless to say, Torian interpreted the next following seconds as a given opportunity for his own contribution to this fight. Better late than never, as he'd like to put it, carefully eyeing the mass amount of hissing abominations from beyond the chimera graveyard - a distance he could easily make do with from his current position. With a familiar ease to it, the swordsman splits his blade from its casing, peppering his form in a momentary surge of extra power from a small support spell before manifesting his desire for it to dissolve, promptly ensuing a chain reaction involving a blade-less sword in his grip and ten uchigatana replicas looming over the frontal portion of the serpent group. From afar, the replicas appeared hazy and blurred, perhaps as a result of being formed from the original's blade due to such a strange spell, the Mizu ni Nagasu (and as an honorable mention, the Jiguo Jitoku as well), as the origin spirit had once stated, in a language he was far from understanding.

But, nonetheless, the replicas would serve their purpose with necessary flair as his hand slashes at the space before him, mimicking his typical attack motions despite how the etherblade was reduced to nothing more than its hilt at this point, cutting furiously into an 'invisible' enemy. An unknowing eye would interpret the odd movements as dubious and insane, but looking closely at the snakes that appeared the closest, it seemed that their slippery bodies have fallen slack with open wounds, their hissing dying down into fruitless wails of pain before stilling altogether. The replicas dutifully followed the actions of its 'master', cutting through their soft serpentine underbellies that would have been previously hard to access in close combat. Later, the fuzzy blue blades all but faded suddenly, their dusts settling back into the etherblade's grip as quickly as it had left.

To him, the spell in itself was nothing to cause him surprise, but what did catch him slightly off guard was its potency against these lithe-bodied enemies - he humbly assumed that it was one of those extremely rare instances of his poor luck seemingly playing nice with him, and it was promptly left at that note. Furthermore, Torian's little stunt didn't go unnoticed to the rest of the snakes, and none of them appeared pleased, as implied by their furious slithering headed right into his line of sight.

'More incoming!' he thought, bracing himself for the next spell on firm legs.

A relentless mass of furious hissing immediately invaded the surrounding space, and while they reached a decent amount of noise as a product of their killing intent, the haunting squelches of the dead proved to be slightly louder. Beneath the secondary wave of serpents was a circle bursting in a dark, midnight pigment, pulsing with the energies of spirits that clung to his enemies' forms with a secure, taut grip, faces devoid of any human traces as their hollowed mouths stretched and contracted in low, guttural screams. Bound as they were, the swordsman moves to tackle the opportunity with as little time wasted as he could possibly manage, plunging his weapon into the soft earth at his feet. The action caused a small tremor to travel underneath, later tearing through the ghastly ghost circle in several blade-like spikes, shredding through the serpents' skin prior to completely impaling them from one end to the next. A sort of green bile trickled generously down the sharp structures, raining poison droplets unto the grass as the spikes burrowed back into the ground, following the motion of the etherblade as Torian retrieves it from the confines of the soil.

The swordsman takes one liberal gulp of air before he withdraws his sword, gliding the metal over the bump of his palm, perhaps to remove any dirt from tarnishing the shine, before settling it back into its sheathe, a satisfying click from the weapon significantly undoing the strain of releasing multiple spells in a short amount of time. Torian swiftly turns his attention to the remaining hoards, gathered in a protective ring around what appeared to be a fluttering bird with lion-like features.

Strangely enough, in all that frenzy, he would have expected at least one exclamation from the origin spirit, but he has yet to process any frustrating remarks heeding from a disembodied voice. Inspecting the stillness that still persisted, an in-depth gaze into the Chronicle would reveal the faintest hints of snoring, and a stretched out essence, so particularly thin that it was almost impossible to point out.

The old sap was napping, at a time like this. Not that he minded, sure, but the spirit's solemn display of rest seemed to do little in terms of his lack of sleep the night before, which was, to an extent, the origin's fault.

'This ancient bastard...' he mused, his mouth twitching in mild anger.