Prologue: Kenrojima and the Kraken

One of Dies Irae's steel battleships sliced cleanly through the waves of the Fishy Fish Sea toward Kenrojima, a lonely tropical island at its center. It was a good thing they were in a giant metal boat, too, since the sea was certainly living up to its goofy name. Aquatic life of all shapes and sizes slammed against the thick sides of the boat, causing hollow thuds that did little more than cause the smallest of vibrations but otherwise failed to damage the hulking war craft. The Brigandine looked like the lovechild of a steel mill and a tank with its funnel triplets reaching high into the air overhead and heavily armored body. It was highly armed with enough guns to take on an enemy fleet, but thus far they'd had no use of the ship other than to transport them all to the embattled island. Black flags with the Dies Irae guild emblem in crimson flapped from multiple high vantage points, making their identity no secret. Should the rumors be true about the poor island folk being oppressed by dark mages and their sea monster, intimidation and promise of powerful opposition should proceed their actual arrival.

Standing at the bow of the battleship was Ambassador Sivvy, hands clasping the railing as she appeared to be simply staring out of over the waves teeming with sea life to keep an eye out for threats. The undulating of the fish in the waters filling her vision paired with the scent of coal steam from the funnels and the bobbing sway of the vessel, in general, was a slayer's worst nightmare, and more often than not her eyes slid shut to fend off a wave of nausea. The rose-haired woman was doing her best to appear as put together and strong as possible for her guildmates, but the knuckles of both of her hands were drained of blood and gleaming white under the harsh ocean sun. In fact, all her skin seemed to be trying to match her knuckles. The clone wasn't one to show weakness, though, so soon she turned to her comrades with intentions to speak.

"Attention everyone," her voice rang out clearly, carmine eyes gazing over those who had joined them on today's mission. Even though she felt atrocious, that couldn't keep a small smile from appearing on her lips. The guild was still new compared to the other guilds of Earthland, but she was pleased with how strong Dies Irae was. They were all working and training hard, getting stronger with every day of training and with every Blacklister brought in. In such a short time, they'd already done a lot of good for Ishgar and its countries. Some called their methods extreme, but could anyone really deny that they were making people safer? "We're nearing Kenrojima and should arrive within the hour. I'm not sure what we'll find there, but I'm certain if we stay focused and organized, justice will prevail. We are strong as individuals but even stronger together. I encourage any last-minute preparations be made now, as well as forming groups amongst y-yourselves..." her voice faltered as they surged over a wave caused by a strong gust of wind. Glossy pink lips clamped shut and offered no more words, though clearly there was more to be said about today's rescue mission. Jaw tense, she hoped that Johann would take up from there with anything he wanted to say since the slayer knew only horrible things would happen if she opened her mouth. Breaking into a cold sweat and feeling weak in the knees, she played it off with a brief smile before turning and swiftly moving back to where she was before, clasping the railing at the bow of the ship, mentally chanting to herself to not puke.
   

---

   

   

Amalie stood slightly over to the side, watching the Ambassadors as they gave their orders to the guildmates. For the most part, she was calm and collected, at least anyone looking at her expression and mannerism would believe so. She had always been very good at staying composed, and not revealing how she general felt. However internally, things were a little more complicated than those around her would believe. She was somewhat perturbed, it felt as though there was a knot in the pit of her stomach. Recently, the woman had transitioned from having only killed a select few as a means of self-defense, to the merciless execution of hundreds. At the time, it had felt right, Anima had made it so. Showing her the sinful the nature of those she was putting to rest, it was akin to a mass purification, wiping out the vast stain of corruption that was the Bandit Army. But murder was still murder, none the less and the Articulation mage was still trying to adapt to it.

The mission that they were being led on seemed simple enough, intercept the dark mages that were attempting to take over the island of Kenrojima and free the inhabitants of the island from the terror being bestowed onto them by this guild. The motive was heroic of course, the eradication of the evil that thread to claim this place that did not belong to them. But still, the thought of killing again, it still unsettled her. Her eyes narrowed a fraction as she watched Sivvy falter slightly, a trace of concern in her eyes and she wondered what it was affecting the rose-haired girl. Sivvy never faltered, ever, Amalie knew her well enough to know that this didn't occur often. She noted to check on her shortly as her eyes moved to Johann who seemed to be taking over the talk. Her eyes glanced momentarily to the wristband she was wearing, momentarily contemplating what sort of predicament would even warrant such extreme measures. She brought her eyes back up to the male Ambassador, shortly after he would wrap up his speech and dismiss the gathering. Amalie moved somewhat off towards the side of the boat, her eyes falling on the waters, she watched quietly. Musing over her thoughts quietly, she didn't need to go prepare. She had Celeste sheathed at her left hip, and her new gun holstered on her right, these were the only weapons she ever carried unless you counted the fifth seal of the apocalypse as a weapon.

She would feel the Nephilim stir inside her, moving to the forefront of her consciousness. You can consider me a weapon if that makes it easier for you. He spoke in her mind, his voice silky and smooth as usual. She sighed, It doesn't. She would answer in return, there was a pause. Amalie, you don't have to worry, if it becomes too much, I can step in. She didn't respond, because whilst it was a tempting prospect, it wasn't what she wanted. She continued to stare across the water, her face a picture of stoicism and quiet. Whatever today intended to throw at her, she would endeavor to handle it as best as she could, herself.

---

Her mentor's healing spell couldn't have come at a more perfect time, since she'd really been mere seconds away from a rather un-Ambassador-like cookie toss over the edge of the ship. At least on trains, she could usually lay down and survive in moderate discomfort. Being on a ship was a whole different level of misery for the slayer. But thankfully as her nausea subsided to a tolerable level, her death grip on the bow's railing eased and she turned to smile a sincere thank you to Johann.

Turning to take a better look at the guild members roaming about the ship now that her crisis was averted, the clone noted two of her friends staring off over the ocean from two different positions. One was Amalie, the picture of serenity as usual. Reuniting with Markus after so much time had passed was a bit strange at first, but ultimately she was pleased his path had brought him her and Johann's guild. Life worked oddly at times, though Sivvy wouldn't dare call it fate since such abstract notions were nothing but a headache for the pragmatic woman. Still, she found it ironic that they met when both were so weak compared to now. She was a guild master and his power was staggering even to someone as strong as she was. If anything, her magic power sensory put him more in line with Johann than herself, which did bother her a little. That was neither here nor there, though.

Masha was the first to make use of the prep time with what looked like a warm-up spar to Sivvy. The rose-haired Ambassador approved, though she did wish both involved had kept their uniforms intact. There was no reason to break protocol in hopes of keeping it wrinkle-free or clean. These weren't dress uniforms. They'd been designed to be intimidating, elegant, and flexible enough for any activity. However, the matter was small enough that as long as they pulled the outfit back together before they reached land, it should be fine.

A member had been staring out at the sea, one she'd met but had even less interaction with than Masha. Kessicia inserted herself to make sure Tom was alright and spoke some wisdom to the lot of them. The clone nodded to herself, appreciating that action. It kept her from having to walk over there herself, which was a blessing. While Johann's magic was working to soothe her stomach, it hadn't yet alleviated enough that she felt comfortable walking around the swaying warship being bumped by countless fish of various sizes.

As Kessicia also returned her eyes to the sea, Sivvy thought to join in with the majority of the guild member base and actually enjoy the view herself now that she felt better when the whole ship violently shook, then vibrated and essentially shook again. All her focus had been on remaining strong and pushing past her motion sickness, so she didn't even sense their largest guild mate's approach until he'd sent her stomach reeling again in protest. Her hand reached out to clench the arm of Johann's uniform jacket, though her expression remained neutral albeit paler. It was Hero, the missing member from today's launch. Though she knew little about him other than his physical measurements, she'd been a little disappointed that he hadn't come even though he'd been recruited for this crusade. Being late wasn't ideal, but he was here now, and with a dramatic entrance at that. Maybe she'd have been more peeved about his tardiness if not for being impressed that he'd apparently run that entire distance across the water to catch up. At least everyone was here that should be.

---

In less than an hour's time the ship made it to the island, weighing anchor as close as possible without beeching. The view was...wrong. Sivvy had her traveler's manual out, mostly to get a comprehensive layout of the area, but comparing what they were seeing to the information and images of the destination before it came under dark mage influence took her attention. From what had been known previously about Kenrojima, it had been a lively and tropical place. Thick jungles formed a halo around the perimeter of the island while the towns and capital were kept to clearings inside. The fruit trees provided them with a buffer against storms and high waves, and also one of two strong sources of income. Exporting the indigenous fruits and their by-products such as alcohols and syrups accounted for half of their trade, while the other half was catching the abundant sea life from the waters to sell. It was the perfect combination to make sure no mouth went hungry. In fact, Kenrojima was so wealthy from sustainable resources that it was both a blessing and a curse that the hazardous waters made it so difficult to reach; blessing because it was safe from overcrowding from immigration, but cursed because it couldn't share its comfortable life and rich culture with the world. Images in her book showed grinning faces among the lush green, with many tanned locals happily harvesting before spending their evenings at bright community festivals. If any word came close to what it was, it'd be paradise. White sands, fruity drinks, gorgeous weather... it was a happy place with happy people.

What they saw now made a liar of her book, which was slowly magically correcting itself per this new information. This particular spot they had reached had once been a thriving fishing port, but all of the piers had been demolished or burned. Wrecked wooden ships made the sands a nautical graveyard, abandoned and foreboding. A warning to outsiders. Possibly more horrifying than the ruined piers was the expanse right behind it. There was no mistake that it had once been filled with a thick jungle of fruit trees. Little stubs of trunks still peppered the sands, their splintered bones poking up into the air as if searching for their bodies. None of the actual trees remained, as if they'd been snapped off and consumed whole. Still more disturbing was the length of this already impossibly wide expanse. It dragged on like a gaping maw toward the center of the island for a mile or two, leaving nothing tree stumps and building foundations in its wake. Even though it was far in the distance, some buildings were still standing, though they were damaged and smoke billowed from a couple.

The dinghies were lowered and filled with Dies Irae guild members to take them inland. As each of the small boats ran ashore and the mages stepped foot into the sands, Sivvy stepped ahead and held up a hand for them to pause. Now that she was on land all hints of her former affliction evaporated, leaving a fierce warrior ready for the challenge ahead. “Stay on alert at all times! Whoever razed the land through here has left this as a warning to outsiders like us, but as members of Dies Irae, we are more than prepared to deal with any level of threat. As long as we stay focused and work together, stopping the dark mages that devastated such a beautiful island is achievable. No one should work alone here, though you may splinter off to try to come at our enemies from varying angles. We are at a disadvantage here. We don’t know how many foes there are or what they are capable of. My map of this island is useless in light of this destruction, so we are going in blind. Just remember our purpose, which is to liberate the innocents and put the people who did this in the ground.”

Once she was finished, she again looked toward Johann. “Anything you want to add before we begin?” Sivvy asked at last, seemingly itching to get to work. Many things in life were still confusing to the young woman, but things like this were simple. Expectations were clear, and situations were black and white. This was her element, so this is where she would shine.
   

---

   

   

The Articulation Mage hadn't been paying much attention to the goings-on around her, lost in her own thoughts as she mentally prepared herself for what was about to happen. She reached down, her fingers gently tracing the hilt of her gun. She was generally quite reliant on her magic, so the idea of owning a gun hadn't actually occurred to her. Until the opportunity came to her recently, she'd visited an inn with the intention of gathering information. She'd recently picked up a job to look for a missing girl in Desierto, last sighted at the Golden Horseshoe Inn. She'd turned up with a photo and a name, she'd wanted to get information out of the locals, she had approached a particularly rowdy bunch gambling amongst themselves. But something about an assertive woman addressing them irked them, and so the only way she'd been able to get information was by besting them all in a hand of poker. She'd gotten the information she'd wanted and for the sake of her own amusement, she'd won the leader's gun too.

The gun, however, turned out to be the only real reward of the exchange, because where the information had led her to was finding the corpse of the missing girl horrifically mutilated in a hostel bathroom. When she'd reported her findings to the Magic Council, however, she'd been informed not to investigate any further.  A frustrating result, she understood that the job had been only to locate the missing girl, but knowing that she'd been murdered, leaving it at that didn't feel right to Amalie. It sat on her mind, she wanted to talk to either Sivvy or Johann about it. To get their thoughts on the matter, especially as it was technically out of her jurisdiction to act when having been instructed not to look further into it by an authority such as the Magic Council. But that didn't mean she wanted at least try, maybe if one of the Ambassadors could talk to them directly she might be able to get permission to investigate it. Despite her wishes, she acknowledged that the mission they were currently on had taken priority and that her concerns would simply have to wait.

A sudden force rocked the woman thoroughly, causing her to reach out and snatch the edge of the boat to stop herself from being flung over the edge into the sea. She whipped around sharply, reaching for her gun once more, she was ready to use it in case the ship was under attack from the enemy. However as her eyes settled on the giant dressed in Dies Irae uniform, her arm relaxed. Her eyes narrowing irritably, she had been about to reprimand the man herself had Johann not rushed forward and done the same. She listened in, a small smirk on her lips. She couldn't help but enjoy the sight of Johann in 'Ambassador' mode, it was just another one of the reasons she found him so attractive. The level of authority that he carried so easily, an appealing contrast to the way he was when it was just the two of them. Her ice-blue eyes would meet his as he approached, calling her name in greeting. As he spoke, it seemed he had come over to check in on her, her eyes softened slightly as she addressed him. "It's fine, I understand the importance of preparing thoroughly for the mission we're about to undertake. Chances favor the prepared after all." She responded, before taking a moment to consider how to answer his question. She didn't want to lie to him, but she also didn't want to worry him either, "I'm ready for what's to come." She told him honestly, she was anxious but no less prepared to rush into battle in the name of her guild.

As he continued, trying to find a way to tell her to be safe. She smiled at him, she reached out to gently touch his arm. It wasn't a lot, in truth she wanted to reassure him more affectionately but they were in public, and she knew she had to respect his position. "I know... the same goes for you. I will be fine, whatever happens, as long as you come back to me when it's all over." She told him quietly, hoping this would put him at ease a little, before removing her touch. After a moment, he would shift back to a professional manner. She would reflect his nod but watch for a moment as he left her. After a moment, she turned away, deciding to go seek Sivvy and check up on her. Not wanting to be lost in her thoughts any longer.

---

As the time came that they would arrive at the island, Amalie had returned to the main deck of the ship. She moved close to the edge of the Brigandine once more, leaning over the edge to get a look at Kenrojima. The devastation on the island was apparent, even Anima reeled with disgust at the sight of it. She could feel the Nephillims disdain rising, which really didn't surprise her because displayed before them was a clear example of why humanity could be so disappointing. On the order, she moved towards the dinghies, climbing in, she could have flown over to the shore. But decided to hold back in case the enemy had something set up for the sake of magical detection, at the very least it made sense to wait for the Ambassadors command. When the small boat pulled up the shore, she would climb out, brushing down her uniform out of habit. As the guild members collected on the shore, Sivvy would address them once again. Encouraging them to proceed with caution and stick together, ideally, Amalie worked better alone but she understood the order. The pink-haired guild master would wrap up her direction clearly and concisely, reaffirmation the goal they aspired for. She would hand over to Johann who would reiterate their point, his words were reassuring. Liberators... She repeated in her mind, that was how it had been at River Village, and that was how she needed to see it now. It was the best way to settle her mind on the prospect of the potential murder she would engage in.

At his final remark, it was clear that this was their confirmation that the mission was to start. Amalie would summon her magic forth from within, allowing it to creep up through her. As she proceeded to cast her enchantments, her voice would reverberate with magic. "Empowerment, Resistance, Fortify" Several pulses of energy would release around her as her enhancement spells activated, a means to prepare her body for the fight ahead.

---

Isaak was spending his time below decks, in a dark and cool room, ever since he had boarded the ship. He was prone to sea sickness, his enhanced senses not agreeing with sea-faring conditions in the slightest. It was made even worse with larger vessels, even though they were less effected by the rocking of the waves. He found it was best to seclude himself in an area with as little sensory stimulation as possible, to keep his symptoms at bay. Distracting his mind with something repetitive, something monotonous, was also a good way to suppress the nausea too, so he was praying to himself quietly.

"Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter" The prayers were ones he had learned from the moment he could read, as was tradition in his family. They invoked the power of the most holy gods and their servants, they were spoken to bring protection and deliverance, to ward away evils and bind darkness. He knew them all by heart, and was able to recite the ones attributed to battle and victory without so much as a stutter. He had his swords crossed over his lap, a hand wresting on each hilt, as he said the prayer, wanting to bless his weapons as well "Blessed are the peace keepers, champions of the just."

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In our blood the holy's will is written." That verse always gave him pause, unsettled him in a way that he didn't know how to process. It spoke of how warriors of good must put their lives on the line to defend against the darkness, but also of how all death of light has a purpose. That mortals cannot question the will of the divine when it comes to eradicating the infernal. The idea of innocent lives being taken from the world having some grand meaning put a bad taste in Isaak's mouth as he said the verse, but still he said it. For the grace and protection of the heavens, so that they may win the battle ahead.

Suddenly his motion sickness abated, fading to nothingness and a soft rap came at the door. It cracked open, letting light stream across the ginger's back "We're making landfall, Isaak. You should come up on deck." He nodded softly and rose, sliding each blade into their sheaths on his back. He headed out of the door of the cabin out into the hall, following his guildmate up onto the deck. When he arrived, everyone was piling into dinghies or launching themselves from the ship and heading towards the shore. Isaak thought about flying himself, but decided against it. He instead climbed into a dinghy with a few other members of the guild he had not yet met. They chatted as they rowed to shore, though once they touched land they split off into other groups.

Isaak's eyes found Amalie quickly enough. He'd become adept at finding the woman in a crowd since she had taken him under her wing. He had examined her frequently enough, after all, trying to pick up on whatever had driven her to such levels of strength. She was his standard of strength, an idol one might go so far to say. He came up to her side as the Ambassadors addressed the guild at large, Isaak paying rapt attention to the God of Ishgar as he spoke. Once they were done, he spoke to Amalie "I've hunted demons before, in Midi. It was a training exercise my family did. But this will be the first time I'll ever face dark mages head on. I'm kinda nervous, kinda excited. You can probably tell by my rambling." He chuckled softly to himself "Joyeuse and Durandal are too. But it's harder to tell, on account of them being swords. Okay, I vote we get started before I say anything weirder than that."

Once Johann had finished his part of the speech, Sivvy felt her own anticipation swelling inside her. Her porceline skin started to glimmer in the sun in a bit more metallic way, and even the air around her started to shimmer. As much as she wanted to run ahead of everyone else and bullet herself right into the smoking center of the nearest town, she had duties, right? It was encouraging to feel the boosts in power from everyone, perhaps none more surprising than Markus. When they'd originally met, their power levels had been about even. Now she could feel the cavern between them, much like it felt between Johann and herself, or even Amalie. It bothered her a little, but she'd been working as diligently as she could. Or at least she thought she had. Perhaps she'd grown complacent without realizing. Sivvy made the note to start training even harder once this mess was cleaned up in hopes of once again becoming useful to her comrades, then moved on. Now was not the time to be concerned with her own directives.

A few, most notably Masha and a shrunken Hero, ran off on their own despite her expressed instructions not to, but Sivvy was no babysitter. Perhaps it was a bit cold, but their fates were in their own hands and she'd not worry about it. There was no way she'd wrangle them up, not with the high stakes at play here. It was always a goal to avoid as many Dies Irae casualties as possible, but their decisions were their own and all were expected to be strong enough to carry their own weight. Hopefully some other soldiers would follow them to watch their backs. The ones hanging back to advance as a larger group were organizing themselves, which she approved of. Kessicia was offering up a prayer, something very unfamiliar and interesting to the clone. Religion hadn't been a thing mentioned in the laboratory, and her only encounters with it were brief comments in passing. Did it have some sort of magical effect? Some of the troops seemed to benefit from it, so it warranted later study.

The two newer members heeded their orders as well. Isaak was sticking close to Amalie, his mentor. Nathaniel was alone but looked ready enough to take on anything, so perhaps that's why she called out to the young man around her age. "Nathaniel, stick close to me," she spoke firmly, the tension and excitement about the coming violence present in her tone and demeanor, though it was also clear she wasn't ordering him to do so. If he wished to go elsewhere or follow someone else, that'd be fine. They were both going to be close enough to the larger advancing group that they'd have backup if they needed.

With that, the Ambassador started advancing at a swift pace. At first, the ground covered ahead was uneventful and barren, though about a mile in it changed. Most structures were crumbling or leveled. There was a lot of decay, denoting just how long it had been since the initial attack at the shore that rapidly rushed toward the center of the island. A frown had settled on Sivvy's face as she inspected every rocky crevasse and broken house for life or enemy. At this point, she was on the outskirts of the group, over a small mound in the charred dirt. Enhanced hearing caught the snivvling of what sounded like a young woman and a small child. The slayer raced toward it, stepping into a three-walled shelter to find the two cowering in the corner. Sivvy wasn't the best at this part, interacting with distraught victims. "Hello," she started, holding up her hands in a disarming pose, "We're from Dies Irae. We're here to help. Do you need medi---" The rosette's words died in her throat as the thin woman cradling a starving child tilted her head up and took a good look. Instead of relief or joy, her blue eyes expanded in terror and she released a blood-curdling shriek. The clone stood there in silence, puzzled by the development. Her carmine eyes even checked behind her to make sure the woman wasn't actually screaming at a hidden threat or ambush in progress, but there was nothing. "Excuse me, I'm trying to hel--" Another shriek, and now a chunk of loose building was being chucked at her. It hit Sivvy broadly in the chest and bounced off. "AWAY FROM US YOU DEMON!" wailed the woman, screams breaking into sobs at random. "There's nothing left to destroy! Monster!" Sivvy blinked a few times. It was as if the mother was specifically horrified by the guild master, but she'd never laid eyes on this person before. As someone with an incredible memory, she knew she'd remember otherwise. This was the firs time she'd been to the island as well.

A ghostly form appeared next to the pink-haired girl, perceptible only to her. Sivvy wasn't aware that no one else could see this Great Sage that walked up beside her, shrouded in a white robe and hood, so she spoke openly. "What do you think?" the young woman asked the cloaked figure over the loud screams. The Sage answered promptly. "Let Nathaniel or someone else have a try," the androgynous voice rang only in Sivvy's ears. The pinkette nodded, turning and leaving the woman to calm down.

But what had made the mother so afraid of her? It seemed so specific.

   

---

   

   

After activating her magic, Amalie would glance around reviewing the scene before her. Some were quickly hurrying into the fray, keen to get started with the mission. Perhaps a little too recklessly. Her eyes fell on the dark-skinned woman with purple hair, watching for a moment as she seemed to be saying what appeared to be a prayer. Something Amalie found quite relatable, a lot of Anima's magic seemed to carry prayers or words of scripture and somehow Amalie found she knew them off by heart, despite not having read a bible in over a decade. She moved her eyes away, looking at the other familiar faces of her guildmates.

She already had a rough idea of her plan of action, having discussed them with Johann and Sivvy beforehand. With her strong defensive abilities, her task was to pinpoint the villagers, the innocent civilians that had been taken hostage by the dark mages that had taken claim of the island. To free them, and get them safely to the boats for refuge, this way the guild could fight with less risk of killing civilians in the chaos of battle. Not to mention it would mean she would be less involved with the murder, although she knew full well that death would occur at her hands today. As much as she wanted to avoid it, it couldn't be helped.

Amalie heard a voice pulling her out of her thoughts, glancing over to the carrot-toped mentee of hers. She listened to his rambling quietly, he seemed nervous, perhaps even excitedly babbling as a mean to ease his anxiousness. Amalie could have dismissed him, tell him she would rather work alone, and she was tempted. But Sivvy and Johann seemed insistent on having the guildmates work together, she could understand, it was just that Amalie didn't often work well with others. They were distractions. Still, as a Commander, she had to set an example and listen to the will of her Ambassadors. "Yes, we'll be off shortly..." She cleared her throat, speaking loudly so others could hear and should they choose to tag along could decide to. "Our primary task Isaak, will be locating the civilians and getting them to safely out of harm's way. This will give our guildmates room to move more freely with little risk of harming innocents in the process, however, be on guard. The chances of us running into interference is highly likely. We will definitely have to engage in some of the fights today, so stay on guard and steady your resolve, it might get rough." She wondered if she should offer him words of comfort, promise to protect him should it get to dangerous. Would she even be able to protect him? Is this what mentors did? Amalie hesitated for a moment, before deciding against further comment.

A little ways past Isaak she caught sight of Johann approaching her, his eyes on her in such a way that gave a clear idea of what he wanted. "Please excuse me for just a moment Isaak." She told him sharply, moving around him and striding quickly to meet Johann halfway so they could have a moment that was at least somewhat private. Whilst she expected a quiet word, she was thrown by his sudden embrace, surprised he was being so publically affectionate. Perhaps the risk of death was making him care less about keeping up appearances. Out of reflex, her hands found their way around him, her normally stoic gaze faltering as he brought her close. "Johann?" She whispered uncertainly, as he apologized to her once again. Her eyes softened at his words, she pulled her hands back from around him and brought them up to cup his face. "Johann, please, you worry too much." She told him in a quiet playful tone, as he kissed her, her eyes would draw close and for a moment she would lose herself. Sinking into him as she tenderly reciprocated the kiss. As it ended she pulled away, her ice-blue eyes opening to once again gaze upon him, "I promise, by the time this is over, I will be back in these arms, celebrating our victory with you. She told him earnestly, and she believed it. She trusted him, she trusted Sivvy and most of all, she trusted Dies Irae. They would succeed today, she was sure of it. Upon his final remark, she said nothing, simply offered the hand that held hers, before letting go and moving back towards where Isaak stood.

Her expression returned to its natural stay of cool collectedness, although her eyes did glimmer with an ever so slight warmth. Something about Johann's affection had steadied her, she felt calmer now, ready for the mission. "Right, let's move out!" She said sharply to Isaak and anyone who might decide to follow her. Turning on her heel, her magic flowed through her once more, "Flight." Upon this command, she kicked off the ground, levitating in the air barely half a meter off the ground. Then shooting forward she would fly into the forest, moving swiftly, her magic amplifying her speed, but still keeping close enough to Isaak to ensure he wouldn't lose sight of her. She ducked and dived between the trees, saying nothing as they approached the outskirts of the nearest town on the island.

As the first building came into sight, she touched down on the ground, taking a moment to glance around and take in the scene before her. It was clear to see the damage and devastation that the Dark mages wrecked upon the island, the atmosphere was thick with stale unsavory energy. Just standing there set Amalie's teeth on edge, That Amalie... is the cost of sin. It infects the air, spreads into every nook and cranny in order to stain everything it touches. There was venom to Anima's words, she could feel him shift inside her, his agitation clear, his bloodlust for sinners rising. She needed to keep moving, focus her mind so that she could stay in control, the last thing she wanted was Anima taking over and going on a rampage.

"Let's explore some of the houses," She commented, before moving further into the desolate town. The first few houses they moved into were sparse, abandoned, or so damaged they were beyond useful. It seemed their first encounter would be when they arrived at what appeared to be a bungalow that was a little less torn up than some of the other buildings. Amalie froze just as they were about to enter the building, she stood in the doorway, hearing a gathering of voices. She listened for a moment, they seemed to be a group of individuals bickering amongst themselves over who should get to claim the house they were in. "There are at least four men in there, and one woman..." She whispered, attempting to read the magical signatures she could feel and assign them to what she could hear. "On the count of three, we go in, aim to incapacitate first, we need to use them to gather information..." She instructed, taking a deep breath as she mentally figured out her plan of attack, "Three... two...one. She said, before turning the corner and charging into the building.

---

Isaak listened to Amalie and nodded curtly in understanding. He wanted to assure her that he wouldn't slow her down, his urge to do his mentor proud absurdly strong even though their relationship was just beginning, but he thought better of it. "That's something kind of heavy in an otherwise light situation, Isaak." He thought to himself "Well, as light as preparing to purge an island overrun by Dark Mages can be." He pushed the thoughts to the side and prepared to move out with the Commander. He caught sight of one of the Guild's Ambassadors, the one he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet, just as Amalie did. At her order, he stood in his spot and waited for her to finish her...moment with her superior.

Isaak saw the hug, but turned away from the sight quickly. He felt like he was intruding on a very private moment, just staring at them like that "I have to admit though, they make a good couple." He mused quietly, looking to the ground, then the sky, then back towards their ship. Anywhere that didn't make him feel like a creepy voyeur, to be completely frank.

When Amalie returned, he felt like going to introduce himself to Johann, and almost convinced himself to do so in fact. But his feet refused to carry him in that direction. He didn't know if it was intimidation or something else, but his body was telling him that now definitely was not the time to approach the man. Instead the ginger turned and followed his mentor as she moved inland. Though he was running, rather than flying "That's really not fair...I gotta come up with a spell or something for that. Shouldn't be that hard for a light mage to make something like that, right?"

The rambling continued in Isaak's head, and he didn't even notice the added presence of the dark skinned woman until he turned his head slightly. Her sudden appearance startled him, causing his footing to falter. He nearly tripped and fell flat on his face, but he corrected himself and continued his stride without much of a fuss. He studied the silent woman, a fellow Dies Irae member that was for sure, but he had never met her before "To be fair, I haven't met many of the other members yet so this is par for the course." He was about to introduce himself to the woman, however they had arrived at the first town.

The sight before him cut off any words he was prepared to speak. His enhanced senses allowed him to see, smell and hear so much. Too much. The acrid smell of burnt flesh and the coppery tinge of blood, dried and fresh, assaulted his nose. He could see the broken down husks of buildings and hear the groans of the half dead and dying. The charred corpses of houses stood like monuments to the destruction and a thought hit Isaak like a train: "They burnt the houses with people inside."

He could feel indignation and anger rising in him, he wanted to avenge those who were slaughtered here today, but Amalie's words came to the forefront of his mind immediately. They were here to save as many as they could, lessen the casualties and treat those who can be saved. He had to focus on that, above all else, so he whispered a silent prayer under his breath and locked the negative emotions away behind a magnificent barrier of light in his mind. There would be a time to feel them fully, but now was not it.

He followed Amalie to the first building and stood beside her. He nodded at her directive, and saw the silent woman summon a whip to her hand, which he took as a form of confirmation in and of itself. When Amalie reached the end of her countdown, Isaak quickly sprung into action. He slipped past the man who was yanked out of the fray by the whip and charged directly for two of the others. He had Joyeuse and Durandal drawn in an instant, and with the confusion was able to land two quick strikes, a hilt blow to the chest and another to the man's temple, which dropped one combatant out cold in seconds.

The man who was standing next to him recovered much more quickly, summoning a bastard sword of pure darkness to his hands and charging directly for Isaak. They traded blows, Isaak with speed and precision and the other with staggering brute strength. The dark mage put space between them, pushing Isaak back with a shock of pure black energy, and the Devil Slayer made a split second decision "Ascendant Devil Slayer's Nth Longsword!" Joyeuse and Durandal were stabbed into the ground in favor of a blade made of pure light that Isaak brought to his hands. It was smaller than what he usually summoned, but the space they were in left no room for large-scale attacks.

Isaak charged at the dark mage and the man did the same, each aiming to slash through one another as they passed. The skin on Isaak's cheek parted and cracked, like fractured porcelain, light and blood the color of freshly fallen snow spilling from the wound, while the dark mage collapsed into unconsciousness. He hadn't gone for a fatal blow, in order to interrogate the man as Amalie had ordered. And with two more down, the last were left to Amalie for handling.

As Nathaniel stepped into the role of public relations, Sivvy lingered outside and out of sight. Though she didn't look it, she was deeply bothered by the reaction. Would others feel the same? Her sensitive hearing heard her mentee calming them and her slayer's nose caught the scent of blueberry cheesecake. The heavenly smell was nearly enough to draw her back in hoping for a slice, but even a snack-obsessed, bottomless pit like the clone knew there was a time and place for things, and now wasn't the time to put all the heaviness of this situation aside for a dessert.

She'd just ask him if he had any more later.

He was doing good work, and that pleased her. He asked her what to do next, and from outside she answered. "Just make sure they're comfortable and tell them they're safe and we're here to help. It seems I'm unable to do that for them," she said quietly, carmine eyes scanning the area for more signs of life. Perhaps it'd be easier to draw them out instead of trying to find their terrified hiding places. "I'm going to make a shelter out here for the refugees to stay in until we're finished ridding the island of the threat. I may need your help convincing them that it's safe."

Making her way to the flattest, most cleared out spot in the little decimated village, she started producing large plates of iron. It seemed odd at first, but before long, it was clear what she was doing. Reflective, fluid metal and metallic threads were produced from her hands, coming together and forming the reinforced sides of what would soon be a structure. She started raising the plates and welding them together, taking care to make sure it was very secure. Making the walls thick enough to withstand powerful blasts and large enough for many survivors to comfortably fit inside was taking a lot out of Sivvy, but the ambassador felt this needed to be done. If nothing else, she was efficient. Once finished, she stepped back and wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, panting lightly.

The whole time she'd been working, the clone became more and more aware of people sneaking in close enough to watch but staying out of sight. By the scent of dirt, blood, and tears, she assumed they were refugees. The intense smell of fear all but confirmed it. Were they afraid of her as well? "It's safe to come out," she called to them, motioning to the shelter door. "This will keep you save until my guild, Dies Irae, rids this island of the dark mages so you can reclaim your home. Please take shelter inside," the rosette spoke with authority but kept her voice softened so not to frighten them more. However, it seemed no matter what she did, they would view her as the enemy...and the growing suspicion she had as to the reason made her stomach turn.

"We won't fall for your trap!" a young man called from behind her, stepping up from his hiding place behind a half-destroyed wall. By his condition, it was clear he had tried to fight off the invaders. There had been an attempt at first aid, but without access to proper materials, it was rudimentary at best. One arm was in a stint made of strips of cloth and pieces of blown-up trees. Still, he'd armed himself with a knife used to cut the fruit from the beautiful fruit trees that had once stood here, intent on giving his life to run her off. "Now that you're alone, we'll finish you off," he threatened, signaling more survivors. They limped out from seemingly every possible hiding place; from inside crumbled buildings to behind stumps. Some had pitchforks, others had knives like his, and the rest had merely their fists but took comfort in the meager gathering of neighbors.

"I won't fight you," she spoke calmly, sadness filling her formerly stoic eyes. "I'm not the one who hurt you. I'm here to help," she insisted. Knowing it would cause more panic but deciding it was best anyway, she requiped her a giant blade, but assumed no offensive stance. This was a special blade. With a wave of it, pieces of candy and tiny cakes decorated in dainty roses and stripes appeared around her, floating harmlessly. "Please, eat these. It will help heal your injuries."

Of course, the skiddish townsfolk only saw a threat and rushed to attack her. They were easy enough to evade, and never once did she lift her sword. As the man with the broken arm leapt forward to make a jab, a piece of candy flew into his open and screaming mouth. Horrified, he tried to cough it up, but it was too late. He'd swallowed it. There was an uproar in the mob, so much so that Sivvy expected them to dogpile on her, but the knife wielder's sudden whoop of surprise gave them all pause. "Hey! My arm is better!" he exclaimed, turning his arm over and flexing it without pain. Her actions clearly confused him, but ultimately won him over.

Seizing her chance, she placed many more of the healing sweets from her spell on a table inside. "Feel free to go inside and have a snack, it really will help," she smiled, but despite her obvious goodwill, they still were reluctant and gave her a wide berth upon investigation of the building. At least mothers with injured kids were more willing to take the risk.

Just as everything was calming down and the people were starting to gain hope of salvation, a bolt of lightning crackled from the interior of the island and straight at Sivvy. She'd heard it just in time to narrowly dodge, whipping her head around to take in the threat. There was a group of mages approaching, clearly ready for a fight. The slayer frowned. She'd calculated there being a chance that building the bomb shelter might draw attention, but she hadn't anticipated it being so quick. "Nathaniel!" she called, letting her requipped sword disappear as she ran ahead. "Get everyone inside and calm, then join me! We're under attack!" commanded the ambassador, teleporting ahead and into the middle of the group, letting hundreds of metal needles burst from her body in all directions to injure any who couldn't dodge in time. She'd do all she could to draw their attention from the innocents in the shelter. The needles went through three of the attackers' throats, leaving them to thump directly to the ground and bleed out. The other five scattered with minimal injury. As she whirled and formed swords in her hands, she found herself being electrocuted quite effectively by the leader of the group, using her weapons as conductors.

---