The Will of the Weave

Vandrad was still quite angry with Cedric and he did very little to hide it, even the few days after their fight with Eden. But it had served to offer quite the advantage; the newly crowned king was training even harder than before, pushing himself to his limits and even a bit further beyond. The workload he put in was extraordinary, which was saying something because Vandrad was the epitome of going above and beyond in training. He was accessing and committing himself to the Ark’s control and mastery like a man on a mission… mostly because he was.

The understanding that the Ark could be used to give them the true one up shot they needed against Faera had lit a spark in him. There were dangers, of course -- Cedric had made it very clear that even the minimal time he had used Omigen’s essence had been reckless and dangerous. Though, he had shorted himself in that aspect by not letting Victoria know of his access to it and allowing her to train him in its control. Still, the Domination factor of the Ark could be used on one of the Trumpets, Shepard primarily, to deliver them a source of power that would bring the Divine of Darkness down once and for all. But before they could even consider planning a strategy for that,  Vandrad needed to be better in control of the Ark -- on par if not better than Cedric.

So they’d begun the great work anew, this time with Victoria fully aware and educated on all of the abilities of her students. She was cross with Cedric as well, more out of disappointment that he would so willingly disarm himself of an advantage. But she kept her focus on the task at hand, now acting as an unstoppable force pushing them from behind to a new place of power. Breaks were going to be small windows of time but luckily they’d come to one, allowing Vandrad and Cedric a moment to catch their breath. The named king was panting heavily, though the fierce determination in his eyes had not dulled from exhaustion. Cedric, on the other hand, had taken a seat on the ground, smiling partially as he leaned back on his hands. “She’s going to run us ragged today, huh?” he asked, glancing up at Vandrad.

"Tch,” Vandrad scoffed. "It’s the least you deserve after cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

The former Dread Master chuckled. “Yeah probably,” he admitted. “Though I didn’t expect Vriko to be so grumpy about it. She was miffed.”

"She went most of her life believing she didn’t have magic and has only begun to understand her unique form of it. I think you callously holding back portions of your power may have offended her. Just trust that there is a small party of people that are not upset with you. Up to and including a Prime Sin.” Despite Mythal’s warning that any acts of violence against the pair would result in repercussions, it was almost universally understood that Ozorith would enact vengeance against them at some point. He seemed the patient kind of demon, willing to wait until the right moment to strike with vicious prejudice. All the more reason for Vandrad to hasten his mastery of the Ark.

Cedric had no witty comment there. He understood that he’d put their lives, including Serilda, into a complicated spot. Once the adrenaline and excitement had worn off from slaying Eden, his more reasonable side had come out, understanding the predicament they were in. His thirst for the death of the immortals was one that he couldn’t just turn off and while it was a stark reminder of his upbringing, it was one he would have to actively work on to be better about. Though he couldn’t imagine that there was anyone worse he could piss off than Ozorith in the pantheon, save perhaps one of the higher Divines.

“Well, best we get back to it,” Cedric stated, pushing himself up to his feet and brushing off his pants.

Vandrad was just about to call Victoria back when he felt… something. Some alert, some feeling, in the back of his mind blaring like an alarm. He’d felt it before, in moments when he’d activated his ‘Judge’ powers or whatever he was supposed to call them. It was like his very being was being targeted and before he could react, he felt something grab hold of him and yank. Through lack of portal or magical materialization, he was suddenly away from New Rhaegar and dumped unceremoniously onto the icy ground. He slid a few inches before he jumped to his feet, Cedric right beside him. Both of them looked around quickly, briefly, long enough to realize they were back in the icy caverns that had become Eden’s grave. And standing before them was a woman, the supposed perpetrator of their kidnapping.

“Vandrad,” Cedric said softly.

The crowned king didn’t answer. His face soured in battle-hardened focus as his Cobalt Grade Empowerment swept over him, cowling him its power. Cedric fell right in sync with him, mere moments before the woman rushed them, her dash without warning or sign. Both men immediately moved into defensive positions, blocking her strikes quickly in a rare show of unity. Vandrad’s attention was only pulled away from the melee for a fraction of a second, as the sight of He Who Is caught his eye, standing off in a corner with a… bucket of popcorn. Then he was right back in, twisting his body in an attempt to catch the woman’s arm in a barring movement. Cedric unleashed a pulse of magic aimed at her core, followed up by a kick that was filled with his magic. "Did we do something to offend? Can’t say I-”

But before he could finish his remark, his eyes widened. He did recognize her. Why she had stayed in his mind, he couldn’t tell but looking at her again, he realized he’d seen her during the mission to Enca. She’d been at the casino, playing cards with Mercury. "This is a bit more aggressive than poker, isn’t it?!” he asked between bouts of blocking and launching countering attacks.

Though she hadn’t said as much -- or anything really -- both men seemed to have an idea of who they were dealing with. If she had brought them back to the place where Eden had found her end, it was more than likely someone involved with Ozorith. And she didn’t feel like a demon; the Ark was quite good at identifying an immortal creature based on their infernal and blessed magical energy and she was not resonating with either. Even if she was suppressing her power, it still would have picked up on her entire being. That meant that she had to be the human woman that Ozorith ‘employed’, the one known as Oblivion or Ryori that they had heard about. The one that had saved Gren and Vriko, as well as the one that the Prime of Wrath had earmarked as his strongest Omen.

Well, they knew revenge was coming, just not that quickly. Mythal was going to be absolutely livid. But they couldn’t waste time thinking about that at the moment, each one of them forced on the defensive at first before raising their power to match her. For a moment, it looked like they’d landed a decent hit, with Cedric unleashing a blast of concentrated magical energy. But as the smoke cleared, she remained there, unscathed, almost bored even. The former Dread Master’s follow up kick was knocked away like it was nothing and Vandrad’s grip was instantly lost as she turned her arm about, reversing the hold on him. He struggled to get out of it before being forced down, her knee rising up to slam into his gut. The air drove out of his lungs and spittle shot out from his gaping mouth before he used what little magic he could focus on to worm his way out of her grip, zipping a few feet away to catch his breath.

Meanwhile, Cedric had put two and two together, not only realizing that the woman was Ryori but that he had seen her before. Rather than just sit with that knowledge, he opted to crack wise, as was his motive in most situations, drawing her attention. Before he could fully backpedal to go back on the defensive, Ryori grabbed him by his gi and pulled him towards her, lifting him from his spot until he was mere inches from her face. He stared in bewilderment, mostly because she hadn’t followed it up with any kind of attack. Was she… studying him?

It didn’t last long; a moment later, she twisted her arm  and sent him flying towards Vandrad. A common action by those that were outnumbered. Vandrad sidestepped and grabbed Cedric by his outstretched hand as he passed, stopping him immediately and allowing the former Dread Master to pivot his body and find solid ground again. Both men stared back at her as she finally spoke, naming the place of their first meeting, to which he nodded. She continued, recalling his being there with Mercury and identifying her incorrectly, much to Cedric’s amusement. “Well yes but also no. His fiance actually. But appearances are so important, aren’t they?” he quipped, ignoring the low growl from Vandrad. Ryori lamented her opportunity at killing him sooner than that moment, a comment that seemed more out of annoyance for the participation than Cedric himself. “You’d be surprised how many people feel that way about me at first.”

Ryori continued yet again, insisting that they step up their game if they wanted to survive. She recognized that their current strengths wouldn’t have been enough to end Eden, a statement that placed her far above expectations. “Do you hear that, Vandrad? We’ve set a precedent,” Cedric teased the crowned king with a grin.

"Focus,” was the only response Vandrad gave as Ryori moved into a stronger stance, the very act of moving enough to fracture the ground beneath her. Her strength was impressive, especially for one that wasn’t even using magic at the moment or, at least, didn’t seem to be using magic. Cedric hadn’t even fully finished gloating when Ryori had moved, appearing in front of him with such speed that the former Dread Master probably looked to be moving in slow motion. The kick landed soundly and hard, his body morphing around it before rocketing off the limb, straight through the several rocks that she had created. One after the other smacked to pebbles as Cedric slammed into them. He’d just barely come to rest when another was coming towards him, the bewildered man disappeared behind the rock as it crashed into him.

Vandrad, however, wasn’t as taken aback by her speed. He reinforced magic into his fist and slammed it into the rock that came towards him, breaking it apart around the thrust limb. But she was already moving towards him, having summoned another rock to come towards his back while her elbow sought out his face. His eyes shimmered, the pale teal color washed out by glittering silver as his adrenaline filled his body and activated his latent Judge abilities. In a motion nearly as quick as her’s and ironically just as graceful, he pivoted around her, an afterimage left in his wake as he almost literally danced around her moving form. He followed it up with a kick, attempting to smash her into the very rock that she had tried to pin him against.

The silver disappeared and Vandrad sneered directly at He Who Is, who was grinning as he munched on his popped corn. Now back in his usual focus, Vandrad spun around and unleashed a beam of magic to follow up the kick with one hand. The ground rumbled and the boulder that had buried Cedric cracked, with the former Dread Master zipping into existence just past it and beside Vandrad. His gi was born and he had a cut above his brow, along with some smudges of stone dust on his arms. “I’m going to feel that in the morning,” he remarked as he brushed the spot on his gut where she’d kicked him. Both men extended their hands towards one another, oddly taking one another’s hand in the other.

For a brief moment, their Empowerments fizzled out of existence. But the rush of demonic energy that followed was far greater than either Empowerment had been. Both men took on the Caliban Take-Over, fully in sync with the other. Normally Vandrad would have protested such extreme measures but it seemed they both understood how serious the fight was. Holding back wasn’t an option. Releasing each other’s hands, they rushed forward, cowled in red and gold auras of magic, and charged at Ryori, seamlessly weaving around each other to strike at her.

Cedric tried to hide the self-amused grin on his face at Ryori’s remark that his hand had been doing some in depth exploring of Mercury’s underskirt. If it bothered Vandrad more than the previous comment, he didn’t seem interested in remarking any further, focusing in on the fight. The former Dread Master was manhandled a moment later anyways, kicked through several rocks and buried beneath another while Vandrad found himself facing the Omen himself. Once more, the power beyond the universe activated inside of him automatically, reading the threads of several different universes at once and sliding the crowned king around her attack as the best means of avoiding any kind of damage. He managed to kick back against her, only to hit her hand that was somehow possessed by unbreakable force. Even in his mindset, Vandrad recognized just how rigorous her limb had been.

His follow up blast didn’t fare any better, siphoned into her hand and held as a small ball of glimmering magical energy. He sneered in annoyance as Cedric freed himself from the rocky situation he’d found himself in, damaged but apparently still in good spirits despite their precarious disadvantage. Opting to finally take things more seriously, both men took hands together and activated the Union, each one of them taking on their Caliban form with a surge of magical might. Even as Ryori crushed the magic she had halted from Vandrad in her hand, both of them charged at her, becoming a synchronized force as they worked to attack her in a flurry of blows. Ryori stayed on the defense, smoothly moving her limbs about to block them with ease and collected calmness. Neither man were fool enough to believe they had a winning advantage; they’d each been on her side of things, allowing their target to truly let loose and show what they were made of. It was less toying and more giving due diligence, even if it was quite the statement of their power difference.

She finally spoke, even as they were interwoven between one another. She had put the pieces together and concluded that the use of the Ark had been Eden’s downfall, as she would not have been prepared for it. There was a quick look between Vandrad and Cedric at her comment. Using the Ark against someone who could, arguably, go on to tell other immortal beings about it was dangerous. Ruzatz had been a faithful friend and had opted not to bring it up to anyone else but there was literally no reason for Ryori to keep it to herself, given the circumstances. But they had to use every advantage they had to try and defeat her and not using the Ark was intentionally, metaphorically cutting off a usable limb.

They each took a swing, only to find empty air the victim of their simultaneous strikes. Ryori had avoided the attack and moved to counter, her palms crashing into their stomachs. Both men grunted as they were sent backwards, carving long, jagged swathes in the ice before coming to a rest. The defensive capabilities of the full Take Over were impressive but her strength had proven the greater in that moment, forcing them both to have to pause to catch their breaths. Ryori spoke to them as they collected themselves, stating quite plainly that the only reason Eden had perished was because they had surprised her. She saw their efficiency in using the Ark as novice at the very best. Eden’s failure had been because of her own arrogance, not because of their superiority. It was a… clinical run down of their potential, not unlike what they’d heard plenty of times from Victoria, if a bit more crude.

It was interesting because while the words seemed sharp and pointedly insulting, they weren’t. If anything, it resembled Victoria in the tone of piqued curiosity, as if she had found something worth investigating further. Something Vandrad himself had experienced plenty of times over his years as a mentor and trainer. He didn’t dare assume that one of Ozorith’s Omens was… seeing the possibility of utilizing them but he couldn’t sense malevolence or cruelty directed at them. An academic rundown of their potential was likely not what they were expecting.

Once more she asked that they come at her with everything they had, insisting they didn’t hold anything back. Vandrad sneered in annoyance again, his pulling away from her momentarily as he turned strategy over in his head. He was at his current peak with the Ark; he could potentially use his magic to break through the limits of his Empowerment but it would only be a slight buff above where he was and she was handling that with ease. Cedric could push his Caliban form higher with his multipliers but he needed full control over the Ark to do so. It would require Vandrad sacrificing his own power and relying on Cedric, again, to handle an Omen. That wouldn’t fly with him -- it was hard enough knowing that the former Dread Master had a potential in the Ark that was far greater than his.

There was only one option to keep him viable currently and he despised it. With a growling groan, he dropped out of the Caliban Take Over, leaving him back in his basic form. Cedric’s head snapped around to look at him, eyes wide in surprise. “Vandrad, what are you…?”

"Everything we have, she said,” the king barked at Cedric in annoyance. But it didn’t seem that his annoyance was at the former Dread Master. No, in fact, it was directed to the unseen audience, sitting yards away and feeding himself in amusement. He didn’t dare look in his direction, if only so it didn’t look like he was intentionally asking for help.

Cedric stared at Vandrad for a few moments longer. The king had told them of his interaction with He Who Is and the supposed power that had been blessing him in seemingly random instances of combat. It had seemed far fetched, even by their standards. A seemingly multiversal power ordained to one person had been talked about in several different religions, mostly in terms of a single, all knowing deity. But the one called He Who Is didn’t claim to be any kind of God at the highest tier, simply instated by something akin too it. There was no evidence of it at all and that was between everything Cedric had learned from the Dread Masters. Though, in truth, he had never opted to check with Chishan to see if the Order of Souls had ever heard of it…

Despite it all, while he believed Vandrad, it was still a bit… unbelievable at its core. Yet there was no denying the results and it seemed the crowned king was attempting a repeat of what had won them the battle with Maker. Sighing softly through his nostrils, Cedric took full control of the Ark and activated Hade’s Cowl at the highest tier he could maintain without burning out. His aura roared as it grew in intensity and strength, flickers of yellow bolts of electricity rippling around the energy dispersal.

He Who Is hummed to himself as he looked between Vandrad and Ryori. It was a bold ask on Vandrad’s part, if only because he had no idea of what Ryori could wield and how closely it connected to him and He Who Is. Allowing the crowned king to step into the threshold again would all but conclude what Ryori was probably already beginnin to surmise and would bring her all the closer to being able to see him. Though seeing and interacting were two entirely different aspects, he supposed. It was a gambit, that much was true… but who was he to turn down a gambit when it could prove entertaining? With an excited grin, he lifted his free hand, free of popcorn at the moment… and snapped.

Vandrad was determined to keep his state of mind, his consciousness, at the forefront, even if He Who Is granted the request. And to his credit, he did… though he may have regretted it. He remained aware but as an observer, staring out through his own eyes like they were glass windows to the world. His body had slumped slightly forward, losing its usual defensive posture as his arms hung down between his legs. Then all at once, his body gained rigidity, tensing up and moving back into a full standing position. An eerie white-blue glow emanated off of his form, highlighting his entire body while wisps of circular energy rose up in different areas around his ‘aura’. His head rose up to look at Ryori once more, his eyes yet again a pool of silvery depth that seemed to look beyond the scope of their reality.

Cedric didn’t know how to feel about the transformation. The Ark was confused, unable to quantify, identify or categorize the energy that Vandrad had tapped into. It inferred to the former Dread Master both caution and a desire to annihilate, the human instinct to destroy what it couldn’t understand. Cedric was easily able to ignore it, even as he added one additional bolster to his power and evoked Marka’s Brand onto his forehead. But before he had even finished finalizing that, Vandrad had moved. No, it was better to say that he had stopped existing in one spot and was reborn behind Ryori, one hand held out. It took a moment for reality to catch up and then several dozens blows would come raining in on Ryori from every direction. “Holy shit…” was all Cedric could say, so surprised by what he’d already seen that he couldn’t even move yet.

Despite not being fully present in his body at the moment, Vandrad had managed to stay awake within himself and, as such, he was connected to the sensations that were occurring. The strangest part was the invisible line that seemed to connect itself between himself and Ryori, now that he had opened more of the multiversal power. Whatever power she was wielding, it seemed it shared a similar frequency to the realm of the Judge.

Wait. Even as he body moved in slow motion, unleashing dozens of attacks on Ryori as she remained still, his consciousness flashed back to his first, official discussion with He Who Is. Standing in the void, staring out at the endless stream of universes that existed, he had asked the off-beat man what kind of power a Judge possessed. He’d mentioned that they drew from the multiverse itself, as every universe had its own power that ran through it. He’d said he wouldn’t let the secret out, expecting, knowing that Vandrad would soon begin to understand what it was. He didn’t need to look towards He Who Is to know the answer; this was exactly what he was talking about. Whatever Ryori was drawing upon for power, it was the basis to what a Judge could use, what he, as a Candidate, could use. He could almost feel He Who Is smile in amusement.

Vandrad came to a stop behind Ryori, having experienced her defensive abilities first hand while in his awakened form. She had such masterful control over his abilities, able to fold space around her to allow the slightest change to his trajectory and his hits to miss. It was truly remarkable, even if he could only appreciate it from within. His body rose back into a full standing position as she continued to ponder her own thoughts. The air around him felt different and he would turn just enough to look over his shoulder at her before he was suddenly swallowed up in an explosion, disappearing in the fiery blaze.

Cedric didn’t have time to ponder Vandrad’s fate as Ryori’s hand came up towards him. His body stiffened defensively for a blast to come his way but none came. Instead, suddenly his body was bombarded with weight, as if she had dropped several hundred pounds on top of his shoulders. He grunted as his knees buckled, bending and slowly beginning to sink towards the ground. Another surge of magical energy rippled off of him as he pushed Hade’s Cowl to the next tier, his muscles tensing and expanding. He pushed himself back up and then rocketed off the ground, the icy floor exploding into broken shards as he shot towards her.

At that exact same moment, she would become aware of Vandrad. He was behind her, his own back facing her’s and hanging upside down. The moment she gained that realization, the entire frozen floor in the cavern would explode into tiny shards of ice, opening up to a drop down into a dark pit. Vandrad’s body instinctively pulled away as Cedric charged, flipping over the former Dread Master. Cedric went on the offensive, raining fists and kicks at Ryori from all angles he could manage while Vandrad stood just behind him, looking at his hand in neutral wonder. Her ability seemed to manifest from something other than magic, something greater…

"Weave,” he said aloud, the word unfamiliar and strange. It had come into his mind without context or preparation, a seed planted by He Who Is to provide insight without really explaining anything. His fingers flexed and he began to turn with his arm held out.

Something in Cedric screamed in alarm, telling him to get out of the way. Boosting himself out of the way with a surge of magic, he just barely avoided the phenomenon that Vandrad unleashed at or rather just part Ryori. His fingers raked through the air and, as such, the ice that remained in the cavern gave way to his powerful impression. He swiped like a beast trying to claw at a prey, nowhere near Ryori for his hand to make contact. But the reaction was instantaneous; the path his hand had taken vaporized the icy cavern wall, not destroying but simply removing it from existence. Perfectly carved impressions carried out beyond the frozen barrier and Cedric was in the perfect place to look out through one of the large cracks to see that Vandrad had raked the clouds in the sky in a similar fashion.

What in the hell was this power? He didn’t pause to stare in awe again, lest Ryori managed to avoid Vandrad’s attack and take advantage of his gawking. Fueling magic into his hands, he thrust them down and at her, a massive beam of condensed magic erupting from his joined hands in an attempt to hopefully bring her down while she was still reeling from whatever the hell Vandrad had just done.

Well that was something Cedric could never have claimed to see. The former Dread Master had witnessed all kinds of destruction in his time being alive and conscious, bore witness to devastating acts of calamity and obliteration. But not once had he seen objects simply cease to exist, their matter carved out of continuance by a mere swipe of Vandrad’s hand. It was vaporization, he would have felt and seen that. It was as if the crowned king had looked upon the woman they were fighting, supposedly who was there to kill them, and decided parts of her no longer needed to exist in the material world. Whatever ‘weave’ she claimed to use, as Vandrad so aptly named it in the middle of his trance or form or whatever it was he was occupied by, seemed to be as impressive as Vandrad’s own abilities were. The swipes gouged out the icy wall and beyond with ease but still she remained, having avoided dodging altogether and seemingly… avoided them.

Vandrad, of course, had felt the rise of her power to shift her body in such a way that the attack still followed through but without hitting its target. Granted, it was a far off sense; like the shudders of an earthquake felt through vibrations in the floor. His body was reacting on its own, taking action where it needed to while still influenced, partially, by the king’s thoughts. He watched with calm ambivalence as Ryori rose her hand and unleashed a beam back at Cedric, countering his attack with one of her own. The former Dread Master felt the surge of dreadether that rose up in her, somehow both focused on his attack and unfocused because of the revelation. Was there anything she didn’t know how to use? Still, he poured the heart of his magic into the clash, pushing back against her in equal measure. But little by little, her beam began to gain ground, growing in strength and power beyond his capabilities.

Finally, after holding out arguably longer than he should have, Cedric was forced to cut off the source of his attack. He pushed himself out of the way of the now unstoppable stream of dreadether, twisting out of the danger zone effectively but not as gracefully as he might have liked. Already the Cowl about him was crackling and flaring out of control, his magic becoming unstable because of how much of it he had exuded. Ryori chose to speak then, informing them that the Dread Masters had provided them with an underwhelming learning curve. They’d been led to believe they had achieved strength beyond measure, only for her to humble them with just how little growth they had made in the grand scheme of things. They wouldn’t stand up to Shepard or even Faera by her measure and that included powers that, she deemed, unearned as she looked at Vandrad.

He Who Is frowned. It wasn’t entirely a fair statement, he felt. Had he tried to activate the powers within Vandrad at any point earlier, the sheer weight of the multiversal energy would have rendered him out of existence. Vandrad’s body and spirit had undergone massive changes in recent years, enough to make his core, his soul, strong enough for what it meant to be a Candidate. She saw a fraction of what he was capable of and made an assumption based on how he used it. He couldn’t… exactly fault her for that belief though. While she may have been the most connected to him beyond Vandrad, He Who Is was still a mystery and the sheer range of power that he could wield would be stifling even to someone as unbearably strong as Ryori. As he pondered that, he listened as Ryori tried to encourage Vandrad to let go of his transformation, insisting that his control over it was lacking because of his naivete with it. That was a fair request and frankly, she had even said it nicely, or at least nice relative to Ryori’s usual tone. The question was…

How would Vandrad react to being told he wasn’t in control of something? He was a teacher, after all, so he would know better than anyone when someone was reaching beyond their means. But as a warrior that had surpassed hard limits time and time again, smashing through walls that most others would call impenetrable… well, He Who Is was not surprised to feel the king’s consciousness suddenly rousing. Within the confines of his mind palace, Vandrad slammed against the walls, fracturing the protective barrier that kept him safe from the expanse of the multiversal power he was bathed in. It was not safe for him to take full control of it -- Ryori was correct in that belief. But…. perhaps…

Vandrad’s body jerked and his hands went to his head as he let out a pained scream. “Vandrad!” Cedric yelled out before he was pushed back by an invisible wall of unearthly power that erupted from the king. Worse even, his mind was suddenly filled with different sights, different scenes that were wholly unfamiliar to him but also somehow familiar. As Cedric dealt with the blow of being dipped in a multiversal mirror, within Vandrad’s mind, he was slipping down a slope. The full brunt of his power had been almost too much, the endless stream of universes and everything they possessed more than his mind could bear at that moment. His self had retreated from it and, as such, his consciousness was now plummeting down a slide away from the power. Yet despite the threat, despite the danger, manifestations that may as well have been hands clawed at the slope, trying to halt his descent. Right up until the edge.

Vandrad stopped screaming and drooped forward slightly, his arms falling to swing limply in front of him. It was not unlike the same pose he had taken when he had taken on the form, which was now swiftly losing his vibrant aura and fluttering spirals of color. But just before it completely faded, it seemed to gain… composure. It was light but the slightest bit of the aura clung to him, outlining his body. Once more he stood back to full height but there was something different now. It wasn’t autonomous or lacking being. Vandrad’s head rose and his eyes opened, revealing the same shimmering silver hue in them. But Vandrad was there now, back in control.

Spurned on by her words of equal encouragement and dissonance, the crowned king had understood that the form he had allowed his body to take on was not his to use, just as she said. But He Who Is had told him that it was power he could wield and he wasn’t about to let any weapon be pulled from his armory without attempting to control it. He Who Is practically leapt to his feet, spraying unseen popcorn all over the ground, as he threw his hands up in excitement, grinning from ear to ear.

Vandrad had taken control. Vandrad had wrestled the reins back and taken his first step towards his destiny, as the Judge saw it. He’d landed squarely, beautifully, on the first platform of his own creation; Aspirant.

"The Dread Masters provided me nothing beyond this inescapable pest,” Vandrad stated clearly, though his tone was not sharp or angry, at least not to her. "Everything I’ve built, everything I’ve used, I have earned through blood, sweat and tears.” He squeezed his hand shut into a fist in front of him. "You may call it unearned but this power is mine to control and so long as I can access it, it will become my weapon.”

He held her stare for a moment longer before he let his hand drop. "But… you are right. Whatever that form was, it was beyond me. Influenced out of instinct rather than control and that is a very dangerous thing. Thank you… for helping me understand that.”

Cedric, who had recovered from his uninvited drowning in his alternate lives, shook his head. “That was a hell of a rush. I thought Mercury was making it up when she said she’d seen other lives.” With another shake to clear his head, he looked at Vandrad and then at Ryori. “So are we… still fighting?”

"Fighting? No,” Vandrad stated quite calmly. "All she’s been doing for the last several minutes is instructing us. We’ve been training, haven’t we? With someone who possesses far more knowledge about our abilities than we.”

Vandrad couldn’t put into proper words what it was he was experiencing. It was like he was connected to the universe around them and the visual reality of that was stunning to say the least. He could see the fluctuations in everything, the flow of what he assumed was the power source behind everything. And Ryori seemed a beacon in it, acting as a conduit when she sought utilization but otherwise was seemingly part of the overall Weave, as it was apparently called. He’d been led to believe that ethernano was the primary source of power that one could draw from but, as the years went on, it seemed that was not the case at all. There were all sorts of power bases it seemed, far beyond what he could have ever comprehended.

His silver eyes stayed focused on Ryori as she remarked about her knowledge of the source of their abilities, even if she didn’t have as much knowledge about them specifically. She also claimed that she wasn’t training them as much as gauging what their limits were and seeing how they adapted in battle, as she’d been suspicious that their involvement with Ozorith was far deeper than first presented. "Could have fooled me,” Vandrad replied, his tone at about the closest to playful it could get in most instances, which still wasn’t much. But he wasn’t intending to offend or insinuate otherwise, simply addressing the fact that both Cedric and himself had been forced to think up new strategies mid-battle.

Once she released the weight from Cedric, allowing the man to stand without exhaustive effort, Vandrad blinked and the silver was gone from his eyes. The lingering aura also faded away, returning him to the platform of his usual power. Seeing the crowned king power down, Cedric followed suit, carefully eyeing Ryori as he did so. With all of them metaphorically setting down their arms, for the moment, the Omen set her eyes on Vandrad and clarified her words from before, stating that his lack of control wasn’t the issue but rather the lack of education. She didn’t see that as his fault, his lacking but rather on the person that had granted it without consideration for the effects.

And then she was gone, Vandrad’s eyes snapping over to where He Who Is was standing while Cedric took just a bit longer to figure out where she had gone. There she stood, now holding her sword in hand and holding it relatively close to the Judge’s throat. He looked absolutely thrilled, grinning from ear to ear as his head was slightly tilted to look at her, their eyes meeting without actually meeting. She stated, coldly and clearly, that she wasn’t going to accept his presence there any longer and that while he’d avoided her for eons and would eventually become her prey, she was feeling forgiving at the moment and wanted him to go before she changed her mind.


He Who Is chuckled as his gaze flicked to Vandrad. “Best believe she’d try and succeed to get to me too. Most other Judges probably would have stripped her of her connection to the Weave before she was even born, knowing what she could become… but where’s the fun in that?” Reaching up carefully, he placed a single finger down on the sword and moved it about almost absent-mindedly. “If only she knew that the whole reason your powers were unlocked so early was so it would eventually bring you two together.”

Vandrad scoffed and rolled his eyes. He Who Is gave him one last lingering grin before he was simply… gone. Disappearing out of existence like he’d never been there. But after a few seconds, Ryori would be able to see a small, glowing smiley face on the flat edge of her weapon that would dissipate after a moment. Once he had left, Ryori grumbled her disapproval of the mysterious figure before taking a moment to look them over before settling into the position that she had put herself in. She understood they had questions, though she lamented that she didn’t just off people to make her life easier, and stated that it would probably be easier and more comfortable to take them back to where they had been.

And then they just… were back on New Rhaegar. Absolute chaos had unfolded as a result of their mysterious disappearance and everyone was there, trying to work together to find some kind of answer. In the mess that was unfolding, it was Gren that noticed the return of the two and the additional woman with them, one he recognized. “Hey!” he said, getting everyone’s attention as he rushed over to them. The two looked battle-worn but not altogether beaten. His eyes turned to Ryori. “Did you… save them?” After all, she had been the one to rescue both him and Vriko from Shepard’s planned assassination.

“Actually, she’s… kind of the one that kidnapped us in the first place,” Cedric explained, honestly still trying to catch up to everything that had happened over the past few minutes.

“What?!” Mythal snapped, his hand already wrapped tight around Hopebringer’s hilt. Streams of darkness began to flow out from between his fingers as the Darkness Slayer’s anger quickly rose.

Vandrad held his hand up. "There is no reason for any further hostilities. There’s been enough for today,” he said, casually glancing over at Ryori before looking at everyone else. "For the moment, we’ve reached a… momentary pause.” He didn’t really know what else to call it. "You didn’t state as much but I’m guessing Ozorith sent you to kill us?”

“That is the most unimportant question in the litany of questions I have,” Cedric started in, finally gaining balance and perspective. “What the hell kind of power do you use? You warped things around you like it was nothing and you used dreadether. How did you avoid, what I’m assuming was, Vandrad literally erasing matter from existence like it was nothing? What the hell was that effect that made me… well… see other lives? And who in the hell were you threatening!?”

Cedric cocked his head slightly at her as she stared at him before finally asking the obvious question about her disliking him. Caught off guard a bit by the comment, it actually helped him reel back in from this stream of questions, allowing him to ground himself once more. He grinned. “I did tell you most people don’t after first meeting me. But I make up for it by being fabulously charming.” Ryori would only need to glance over at a few of the people gathered to see that perhaps his perception of his charm was probably not as deep running as he might have liked it.

The Omen sighed and moved over to one of the rocks, getting herself comfortable by sitting down before she explained that she had no idea who it was she’d held her sword to. She’d sensed him a number of times over her years, though he’d never acted so directly. She’d never managed to have a conversation with him or hear him, merely able to sense his presence before she nodded at Vandrad and said he would probably have more answers. The king placed a comforting hand on Mercury’s back, to assure her he was fine before he spoke up, a repeated explanation for most but new to Ryori. "He calls himself He Who Is, apparently he forgot his name in his many years being alive, though I have no doubts he enjoys the mystery behind his self-given title,” Vandrad explained. "He is something that is called a Judge, a supposed-to-be silent observer of the multiverse. They are connected to the ever expanding horizon of universes and draw upon them as their power. He’d talked about the universe generating an energy all its own which, I assume is that… Weave thing. I’m meant to be a recruit, a Candidate as he called it but I see no interest in joining in anything that doesn’t serve a purpose beyond observation. That doesn’t mean that its power doesn’t… impose itself upon me during certain moments. Nonetheless, he has probably followed you because of your abilities. He… seems that kind of odd clown.”

“Ah, lovely. The watcher beyond the veil was amusing himself during our attempt to avoid being assassinated. That inspires such confidence,” Cedric scoffed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryori continued onto his next question, explaining that her power drew from the Weave, a force that was connected to everything throughout time, space and existence. She could draw from the source and explained that Vandrad had done so for a brief time as well, though her mastery in it was greater, which had allowed her to survive getting erased out of existence. Saffron remarked on the matter beside the former Dread Master, having come to his side. “Well, pour one out for that cavern, those clouds and whatever else lay beyond. He didn’t just… erase things in a straight line forever, right? I can’t imagine the repercussions if he accidentally deleted a quarter of a spaceship or planet.”

"I can’t speak to how far it expanded to. I might be able to figure it out if I took on that portion of power I just wrestled control of but… no guarantees,” Vandrad commented. Ryori turned her attention to his question, stating plainly that Ozorith had in fact sent her there to kill them and he would probably be displeased that she hadn’t.

“Son of a bitch!” Mythal cursed, his anger once more bursting at the seams. Energy began to ripple off of him again as he seethed, though his focus was on the Prime of Wrath than Ryori. “I fuckin’ warned him!” Of course, he had known that Ozorith would have made a move. Despite the cold threat, the Prime would never have been intimidated by the Darkness Slayer. He had just hoped that Ozorith would have some damn sense and hold off until Shepard and Faera were handled. “I’m gonna rip that filthy fuckin’ soul of his out and shred it into tiny little pieces. Then I’m gonna shove those pieces into tiny, fuckin’ ants and bottle him up all together and then throw him into the deepest part of the sea!”

“Damn,” Cedric commented, breaking the momentary silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to Mythal than this moment.”

Vandrad leveled his gaze on Mythal for a moment, who seemed set on radiating rage as he thought of all the terrible things he wanted to do to Ozorith. After that beat, he turned his attention back to Ryori. "Why did you disobey?”

Honestly Vandrad didn’t really have much more of an explanation for Ryori about He Who Is and what his power was. He’d gotten what amounted to an introductory course into whatever role he was supposedly meant to fill. But it was connected to the Weave on some level, that much he could determine just based on the thread of similarity that he seemed to share with the Omen. Still, he was inclined to agree with her sentiment about the Judge; he may have had more respect for the man if he hadn’t picked a holier-than-thou title. Even if he’d forgotten his name, he could have made up a new one just for the sake of not sounding like a prick. "I wouldn’t blame you for that,” Vandrad said with an affirmative nod.

Luckily it seems his attack that had worried Cedric had petered out beyond the atmosphere, protecting anything else beyond it or so Ryori claimed. Though it did seem reasonable -- if she’d wanted to stop it, it truly felt like she could without much thought or effort. However, seeing what he was capable of had forced her hand in bringing the fight to a conclusion, understanding the kind of damage he could do while not fully in control. If he’d gotten any worse, she may have been forced to kill him and Vandrad nodded in his own understanding. Using that form against Maker had been one thing, as it had been more beneficial. But that was simply his step into it; being that close to Ryori, someone else using the Weave, it seemed his instinct was to attack with as much as he could muster. Erasing matter from existence was… a terrifying thing. Sure, he knew he had all but vaporized people and objects before but that had been intentional, with focus and goal. Simply wiping away the icy wall like it was chalk on a board was something else entirely.

Despite Mythal’s angry tirade causing a momentary distraction, the king wished to know why Ryori hadn’t followed through on Ozorith’s orders. She partially dismissed the question but Serilda doubled down, almost demanding a satisfactory answer, as she couldn’t imagine any reason that the Omen would disobey the Prime, her master. That drew about the closest thing to a laugh from Ryori, almost smirking and snorting in amusement as she considered the monetary gain she would hand over to hear Ozorith call himself her master in her presence. There was a clear surprise in most people’s looks at the statement, a few shared looks questioning what she meant by her statement. It was Serilda who clarified that they were speaking to the right Ryori, which she confirmed but stated she wasn’t a master. Sure, Ozorith seemed plenty proud to hint that was what he was for the sake of saving face, though she considered most of the people in the pantheon to be the same way.

“Second?” Cedric muttered, brow knitting together. He’d only just met Ozorith but he would have been hard-pressed to consider anyone else more self-involved than him.

The conversation carried on though, with Serilda wanting to clarify why Ryori served Ozorith, which apparently she did. She served the Weave, if she served anything, but only saw the Prime as a tool to use against her real enemy. In fact, she had been the one to establish their working relationship, which Ozorith had clearly used to his benefit, granting her title and rank which she didn’t seem too interested in. She made sure they all understood that if she had truly wanted Vandrad and Cedric dead, they would be and there wouldn’t be much any of them would be able to do about it. After a moment of realizing she probably should provide a fuller answer, she displayed her resentment for Ozorith’s assumption he could order her around, going as far as to pull her off her hunt of Shepard so she could deal with his own personal gripe. She admitted that if it had been Jareth that had been felled, she may have been moved to dole out punishment but Eden was barely a blip on her radar and was very aware that the former Omen had no one else to blame but herself. She had even suggested rewarding them for their efforts.

So she’d opted to ignore his ‘order’ and go back to her hunt, only to find it wanting. Seemingly more out of boredom than anything else, she decided to go and see what happened to Eden. She was able to discern some of the fight but not all which had made her all the more curious. As a means of deeper investigation, she decided to antagonize the two into a fight to see if she could fill in the gaps. Their use of the Ark had provided her the answer that had been sorely lacking. She gave them each a look, informing them that she would not tell Ozorith of the Ark, if only for her own entertainment when it came out later. Both men let out an internal sigh of relief; they both and in equal measure hadn’t figured out how to approach asking Ryori to do them that favor.

She continued, now spurred on by her own curiosity, admitted that she had thought the Ark was gone after Marka’s death and that it could only be utilized by a single person. “Well, I was born with access to it. I’m… technically a clone of Marka, though I like to think I got my good looking genes from whoever the female genes came from,” Cedric explained. “The whole plan was for me to be in full control of the Ark but I wound up comatose for about a century after my… conception? Creation?”

"I have no idea how I gained access to the Ark,” Vandrad spoke up. "Marka is apparently my ancestor so it’s entirely possible that he made the Ark capable of being passed down a familial line. No one has been able to scrounge up answers to that matter. When I was a child, I activated it to vaporize my grandmother to try and save my caretaker. It didn’t start showing its presence again until a few years ago.”

“And I woke up when he first used it. Dread Masters knew immediately I didn’t have the full thing, somehow, they never really explained it. Once they realized that Vandrad had it, they began training me to better use the Ark so that I could eventually force a Union by killing him. And much like you so wonderfully put it, I figured… frankly, fuck the Dread Masters. They were more power hungry than protective anyways.”

"That’s the only reason I allowed him to live,” the king noted, glancing at Cedric before looking back at Ryori. "So what happens now? I imagine Ozorith is going to be nettled that you didn’t end us. Should we expect a visit from a different Omen?”

Of course, Vandrad didn’t want to assume that they would be in the clear. Just because Ryori wasn’t going to kill them didn’t mean Ozorith wouldn’t send someone else to try. But the Omen was quick to point out that it would be a bad look on the Prime to fail one assassination and follow it up by repeating the same thing. She figured that the only reason he’d even sent someone to take them out in the first place was because Eden had been a minion of his for so long, pretty much from the origin so it had been taken as a personal offense. While that offense was grievous, Ozorith was also smart, cunning and patient and no doubt he would sit on their actions for the moment or so it seemed.

Mythal was still seething nearby, his mind a flurry of violent images and all of them including Ozorith. His vicious daydreaming was only interrupted when Ryori turned her gaze to him, drawing his attention to her. She understood his anger, personally it seemed, but advised that it wasn’t worth the stress. Each god and demon drew power from the realm they lorded over so however angry Mythal was at the prime, it would only serve to give him strength. It was the core of his power base and was the reason he’d held his place without competition. All she could advise him was to let his anger go for the moment. He should remember it and mark the actions but letting it eat him up inside was only going to hurt Mythal more than anyone else. Going at the Prime with rage in his heart and soul would only wind up being his downfall. Mythal huffed a few times before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated that she was right… but she was. In the back of his mind, he knew it too but his trigger finger was so damn quick presently. “Yeah… yer right,” he said softly, as he opened his eyes again. He was still a bit jittery but his anger had simmered down to a reasonable level.

With that bit of advice out of the way, Ryori turned her attention back to Vandrad’s previous question and informed him that the only Omen they needed to keep an eye out for was Cain. Apparently he and Eden had been somewhat of a thing and her slaying was only going to further cement his place as the Omen of Hatred. He would come at them like a hurricane and without time to prepare so, with that in mind, Ryori stated that from that moment on, she would be the one training them on their respective magics. Both Vandrad and Cedric’s brows rose in surprise, shock even, at such a bold proclamation. Understandably, Victoria had issues with her students being taken from her without a discussion. Ryori was quick to commend her efforts but did her… nicest?... to make her understand the levels of knowledge that she possessed.

What followed was a back and forth trading of comments and observations from both the Seal and the Omen. No one seemed to question the fact that Ryori had just known that Victoria was a Seal either, which was even more incredible and off putting. Victoria was skeptical about the Weave, insisting that if she or the other Seals didn’t know about it then it seemed improbable that it existed. But Ryori was quick to point out that they had only existed from the beginning of the current existence and that she and the Weave had come from before then. Her knowledge was deeper, as she pointed out that they had been burning through energy in their fight that should have been controlled.

She took a moment to educate Victoria and by extension everyone present about the long-lasting phenomenon that was the Weave. And that the only way anyone could get stronger in utilizing it and the forces it was part of was to be educated by someone that had already been trained in it, namely her. Simply, or rather complicatedly, it was because the Weave wasn’t some battery to draw from for strength, speed or other traits. It was some underlying baseline within everything that existed. Interestingly, it was Saffron who finished Ryori’s thought about its status, drawing attention to the blonde from the fully gathered party.

The Fairy Tail mage asked if she was right and Ryori confirmed it, realizing that Saffron had come in contact with it. The blonde retold the story of her ‘awakening’ when Cedric had almost died, the transformation that had put Seberg into flight. It seemed she had connected to the Weave and Ryori recalled sensing the shift when it had happened, though she had figured it was either Cedric or Vandrad. After a moment of studying Saffron, she asked about the strange sense of familiarity, to which Saffron explained that they had met in Oak Town some time before, finally reminding the Omen of their connection. With that revelation, she made the executive decision that she would be training Saffron as well, though she put that to Vandrad to agree to the change.

The king frowned slightly in thought. "On one condition,” he said, turning his gaze back to Ryori. "Victoria joins us. Though she may not be connected to the Weave, she has improved both Cedric and I’s abilities tenfold without that knowledge. If anyone deserves the chance to learn more about it, it’s her.” He glanced over to the Seal and gave her a soft nod. He was truly appreciative of all she had done for him and it didn’t sit right with him that she was simply done with her training because Ryori said so. She deserved recognition for her efforts and perhaps she could learn a bit more than she first believed she did. It seemed the best reward for someone so closely related to Victory.

“Training really is just… never ending, isn’t it? Ow.” Cedric had begun to put his arms up behind his head but winced before he managed it, soreness from their fight finally beginning to settle in.

"It’s the best way to get stronger,” Vandrad confirmed, shooting the man a look.

“If Vandrad had his way, everything would be improved simply by training,” Themesycia quipped playfully. “Well, all of this excitement has been… a lot for today. I think it’s best we all get ourselves some food to eat.” She settled her attention on Ryori. “I don’t make it a point to usually invite would-be assassins to my table, especially those that targeted my son… but given that I believe you’ve more saved his life than anything else, at least moving forward, we’d be happy to have you join us.”

Themesycia had put forth the offer for Ryori to join them for dinner but she opted to decline the offer, believing that she had already occupied enough of everyone’s time. It would be better for her to go and report to Ozorith the outcome, so that she could make sure no other Omens were sent in her stead. Serilda stepped forward, asking that she keep Victoria as much of a secret as the Ark was, to which Ryori agreed to, if only because she didn’t see it as her business. After a momentary concern for Ryori’s well being was gently pushed aside, the Voidwalker continued, wishing that they keep in contact directly with her rather than having to go through Ozorith in terms of Shepard. Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be a reasonable means of contacting Ryori until Mercury stepped forward and provided a mobile phone from her magic. She’d already set it up with their information and as long as she kept it on hand, they would be able to contact her on the phone. After another remark about their connection and an all-too-familiar snort by Ryori, she was off, disappearing into nothingness as if she’d never existed in the first place.

Somewhere beyond the scope of the gathered group was the site of a massacre. A compound of sorts, tucked away in the thicket of the jungle, was eerily quiet. The main gate was open but not in the traditional sense. No, the large metal door had been cleaved into pieces, sliced with such precision and strength that metal had given away like paper. Only a step through that gate would bring anyone to the sight of the first few bodies, eviscerated in terrible, violent ways that made them more like piles of meat than former people. The wreckage of battle had dented and damaged the buildings that made up the base of operations, with stains of magical residue and blood peppering the once pristine sides.

Heading into the main building was to follow a path of visceral carnage, hints of a battle that had clearly been one sided. A near perfect trail of blood led through the doorway into the main room, the place that command would most likely stay. It was there that the only living person sat, resting on the front side of a desk. The walls around him were blown away, wrecked from combat and bodies being slammed into them. Remarkably, the only thing that wasn’t destroyed was the table. The headless corpse of a woman lay on the backside of it, still slightly twitching from its death throes.

The man in question was rather tall and bulky, his built physique clear against the tight black shirt on his chest. His hair was somewhat shaggy, hanging over his face just enough to frame his cold, gray eyes. He had a pair of loose, martial arts uniform pants on, complete with a large blue sash around his waist to hold them up. On his shoulder rested a rather large katana-like blade, adorned with fur at the guard. Both him and his weapon were coated in blood from his battle but, seemingly, it was from the people that he had slain rather than his own.

The silence was cut into by the sound of some kind of ringing. The man sighed softly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a circular object. He flipped it open, revealing some kind of magical/technological interface. The top half of the device shimmered and revealed an older looking man, wearing a tuxedo and sporting a thin mustache. “I trust the hunt has gone splendidly?” he asked.

“Well, everyone’s dead… so…” the blood-covered replied with a shrug. His voice was course, like gravel and seemingly bored.

“Well, one should celebrate when more Sons of Faera are delivered to their mad goddess,” the man was quick to follow up. “I wanted to inform you that the halves of the Ark are showing progress. Our sensors have indicated quite the improvement. Both men must have been using it at its current full capacity.”

“Great…” the bloodied man droned, completely lacking enthusiasm.

“I also have other information concerning your main target.”

That drew the man’s attention back. “You’ve found the bitch?”

“Not quite so. But our sources say that an attack is imminent. And the result of which will draw Jihl Coldren or rather, whatever she has become, out of hiding. The Immortal Thirteen will most likely be mobilized.”

The bloodied man didn’t reply, staring off past the device in his hand. He was drawn back by the clearing of the other man’s throat. “However, it seems that the time you’ve been avoiding has finally come at last. If the end game is truly arriving, it is imperative that you meet with your cousins and consolidate your resources.”

“You’re just trying to push me towards a family reunion,” the man said with a dismissive snort.

“I am… merely trying to coordinate an important alliance. Plus it would do you all some good, Master Coldren.”

The man snorted once more. “Fine. I’ll drop in on him.”

The man in the communicator chuckled. “Well, perhaps make an appointment? I don’t believe the Director of the Rune Knights would be a fan of your version of ‘dropping in’.”