A Triad Forged Under Moons And Stars [Private | Medeia]

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The circlet that Addre had… borrowed from his last master, yeah, it broke one day. At one point, his own garments weren’t able to withstand a Venom God’s Bellow, and his circlet broke in half right then and there… along with a good chunk of his outfit. His pretty outfit.

Now, a guy who possessed a Magic that could spawn anything would have no problems with this. They would just manifest another set of clothes, and that would be that. However, unbeknownst to him in times past, when he tracked down and seized ownerships of two Lacrimas – one from a golden, plasmatic dragon, and another from a laser-shooting ice demon – he had lost memory of his Arc of Embodiment…

…

But who cared about that? Not Addre!

Seriously, one would expect him to wail in tears! But far from, actually! It was all in his favor, in the end! He got to keep his Venom God Slayer Magic, after all, and that was the only Magic that mattered to him before his little conquest – screw spawning shit, he loved being a Slayer! And now, he not only channeled the powers of a Goddess, but he also held control over Dragon Slayer Magic and Demon Slayer Magic. His conquest was successful, and he had grown exceptionally powerful since then.

If anything, OverHeaven… that organization from back then… they hadn’t interfered with him since he joined Errings Rising. He hoped that they would know better than to cross his path again. He no longer possessed their valuable Magic, so he was of no importance to them. Leave him alone.

Many of his accomplishments were thanks to invaluable support from one of the Aces of Errings Rising, the Warlady of Lust Medeia. In reality, Addre held so much admiration for her – she was partly why he got sooooooooooooooooo into God Slayer Magic to begin with, and it was no secret that Medeia held her own, well-endowed figure in high regard and with quite the lasting effect on the young man. Still…

That was until the ball where he saw Kyra. However, that story was for another day to unfurl.

AS OF RIGHT NOW-

No words were coming out of Addre’s mouth… nothing but deep growls of stinging pain and irritation. He was holding his stomach madly, waltzing across the side of the ship they had taken. Addre had never taken a ship before, so he expected a sort of marvelous voyage-kind of feeling – not utter dread and-

Urgh, he was about to puke… it was that level of sea sickness that could turn undead. Worst of it, it was very recent that he acquired his last Lacrima, that of the Dragon… along with all of the pros and cons of being a Dragon Slayer. His brown trench coat shouldn’t be ruined by his vomit, so he held his head over the metal fence of the large ship and waited for the inevitable… his eyes bloodshot red from the dizziness.

WC: 497
TWC: 497

It had been quite some time since Medeia had travelled by ship and she had to admit that this one was rather more lavish than the previous one. Back then, she and Kismet had been on a pirating mission and so had been forced to use a foul vessel with an even more foul crew. It had taken a long time for the witch to forget the odour but at least she and Kismet had spent some time together after the mission had ended. Looking on the bright side, as mortals were fond of saying. The reason for her travelling today was certainly nothing to do with pirating and she had to admit that she was rather curious about the task that was in front of her.

She had agreed to help out one of the newer members of the guild with the enchanting of an item or that was what he had informed her of anyway. Medeia had met Addre a couple of times now and had found herself becoming intrigued by him, which was unusual for her. She felt that since she was the one who had approved his admission into the guild then she should be the one to keep an eye on him. He had taken the rather bold step of devouring not just one but two lacrima and considering the fact that he already possessed a first generation slayer magic, Medeia was rather sceptical about whether he could control his increasingly potent powers. The witch herself possessed two slayer magics herself but they were of the same type which had made things easier. Addre had taken one from each of the three types, a far more dangerous manoeuvre.

For most of the journey, she had simply been reading in her room, taking the opportunity to catch up on her favourite pastime. Her life was becoming so busy and with a lack of free time, she had decided to make the most of any spare moment she could get. Armina had been complaining that she had not been receiving enough of the Warlord’s attention, a fact that saddened Medeia quite a bit. She would need to remedy that when she returned home. In truth, her maid had asked to accompany her on the mission but the raven haired woman had been forced to turn her down. Why? The answer was simple. Addre and herself were heading for hostile territory so to speak. Medeia had a deal with The Ironheart Pact and had been fighting with them, against the people of the nation that the two of them were visiting and there was no chance that the witch would risk her beloved maid by taking her to such a destination. Besides that, the purple haired beauty had been getting into an awful lot of fights and Medeia did not want to put up with that.

A sigh left her lips and she closed her book, sensing that something was amiss with her companion. It seemed that he was having a little trouble and so the dark mage left her room and followed her slayer enhanced sense of smell, which soon enough would lead her to the queasy looking mute. He certainly did look rough and she naturally assumed that it was due to the new dragon slayer lacrima that he had decided to insert within himself. That was the weakness of the magic but fortunately one that could be negated for a time.

Once she reached him, Medeia would place a hand on his right shoulder, her hand turning crimson red as she tapped into her powers of blood, her restoration element. “Relax and take a few deep breaths. I will heal you of your sickness for the time being if you let me.”

Should he approve then the crimson colour that covered her hand would extend and surround his body, soothing and easing the pain and queasiness he felt.

(653 Words)
(1150 TWC)

… It was a bit embarrassing to look this pitiful in front of her, and yet Addre had a feeling that Lady Medeia was used to seeing people at their lowest… a strange, unexpected feeling to rise in his belly along with the sickness, but a feeling quickly dismissed as mere happenstance, a coincidental flux of his morbid curiosity.

However, there was a light at the end of the tunnel that his insides were sliding down. The Warlady would heal him of his sickness should he simply stand still and take a few, deep breaths… and while his eyes were a little woggly, he did manage to calm down and do as she requested. Still, this was unbearable… he could only stand completely still for so long. The daggers pushing his innards out, the air that was filling his intestines to no end, the disgusting smell that was caught in his nose, it was simply too unbearable.

His only solace was that he was being aided by his Ace. He remembered the blood-red magic from when they first met, and comfort soon burst through his body. The nausea was cast away by her might and arcane prowess, and Addre could focus again.

A quiet growl of approval escaped his lips before he gave her a quick thumbs-up. He wasn’t able to spawn paper anymore, so… he had to be sparce with his choice of words. He was thankful, his eyes widening in awe at Medeia’s helping hand. Hopefully, it would last…

…

It lasted longer than expected. They actually made it to Port Robinshire, and what a view – naval ships of all kinds just about everywhere. However, the city also had an exotic, warm air that breezed through his hair – it was quite subtropical. Still, Addre was adamant to complete his objective; he just had to find a smith that would forge a circlet for him…

Upon walking off the ship, Addre quickly noticed something… banners. There were banners from the Luminous Covenant, clearly related to the warfares having occurred in recent times. There were also mobilized squads patrolling the streets, which somehow gave him the eeries. It was as if a sixth sense told him that they were bad news, and it made the hairs on his back rise.

He had heard about a lady named Godfreya. Apparently, she was a shrewd blacksmith, and her shop held the symbol of a thick-furred goat. And while Addre himself hadn’t entered any activities connected to the tensions between the Luminous Covenant and their adversaries, it stood to reason that some eyes would be kept open for whoever was accompanying him.

Now would’ve been a good time to ask for directions, but… Addre couldn’t speak. He began scribbling on random wooden planks, trying to convey his words to someone who would be curious enough to read them. He didn’t know if Medeia had any contacts here who could help…

WC: 487
TWC: 1637

By the time that Medeia had left the ship alongside Addre, she looked rather different from her usual appearance. She did not wish for any hostilities today and so had taken on a different persona that she had previously developed. Her hair was a light brown and her eyes were an emerald green, giving her a far sweeter appearance than her normal one. The current brunette haired woman would also rein in her magical aura, which gave her the impression of being just your standard mage, instead of the monster that she truly was, or could be anyway. To complete her persona, she had taken on the name Madeline, which she rather liked. Honestly, she quite enjoyed playing this particular role and had made a fair few friends while playing it. Had they led to some fun in the bedroom? Well, there were some things that she could not change, no matter how hard she tried.

The port was rather nice and her green eyes sparkled with delight as she watched the lovely ships come and go. She had visited the ports of Fiore before but this one was far more appealing and lacked the disgusting smell of sailors that plagued Cedar and Lavanitir. Ca-Elum truly seemed to take pride in theirs although if The Ironheart Pact was successful in their endeavours then there would not be much of a port left. Pergrande seeked the destruction of all enemies and Medeia doubted that Ca-Elum would be spared. Signing up to the Covenant was practically a death warrant in the eyes of their opponents. Medeia personally could not have cared less about all of that, having only signed up for the Pact due to the fact that they paid better and that they despised Bellum, a country that that Warlord despised.

As Addre tried to get someone’s attention in order to ask for directions, Medeia was approached by a lovely looking blonde woman, a wicked smile on her face. “Oh my. If it isn’t Madeline? Where’ve you been hiding?”

Medeia turned her head around, a smile quickly forming across her features too. “Hi Mina. Long time no see. How’ve you been?”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips. “How have I been, you ask?  You’d know if you’d called me like you promised.”

The Warlord chuckled. “I’m sorry but my iLac died. I had to get a new one and lost all my numbers. You’ll have to give it to me again.”

Mina joined in with the laughter and answered. “I don’t know. You hurt my feelings when you didn’t…”

She was bluntly cut off as Medeia took her arm and pulled her in close. “Come now, Mina, you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. How about giving me another chance later? I’ll make it up to you.”

“I always found it hard to say no to you…” The blonde quipped. “So, why are you here?”

“Me and Addre want to hire one of the smiths to do some forging for us. You know where Godfreya’s shop is?”

“Shit. She charges an arm and a leg but her work is lovely. I’ll show you the way if you like?”

Medeia turned her gaze to her companion and asked simply. “What do you think?”

(549 Words)
(2186 TWC)

… Woah, woah, woah, who on earth was that?! Where did Medeia go?

Addre did not recognize the madame at first. His eyes widened a little in mild confusion – as if Medeia had gone somewhere else and he had gotten lost already – which seeded worry in his heart. This was foreign land, after all, and he couldn’t cause any trouble right now. He had a goal today…

… Didn’t she smell similar to Medeia?

… S-She did! Wait a second, this was odd… the more he focused, the more he could still- no, he thought that he had caught onto her scent, but focusing like this revealed to him another unique trait as a result of his Hybrid status…

His senses were beyond just sharp, they were unhinged. He just calmed himself down for a moment, and all of a sudden, he could smell volcanic ashes several miles away. Explosive, raspy and hard on the throat, that was a strong scent that he didn’t want to focus on. Urghh… but now, he could smell fresh seaweed hitting the shores, with seasoning of salt and crustaceans upon it… no, now it was another scent.

There was this distinguished fragrance in the air. That of a deep sweetness, sour like licorice but which left a sugary taste in one’s mouth. Though the sourness slowly glided down his sensitive tongue and guided him so, it was accompanied by a wretched, breathing wall with warm airs blowing into his nostrils – airs that of godhood walking on the land, akin to the airs around his all-venomous Death-Mist.

… Ah, so that was Medeia! Phew… and her sudden flirting even proved it!

This blonde woman… could she be the Godfreya? Addre steadily stepped towards them both, but his feet halted once Med- no, sorry, once Madeline asked said blondine about their sought master smith. She could show them the way to her, however, which lit Addre’s eyes up – simple and rapid as a hamster, he nodded towards them both without uttering a single word.

If they were to go on their way to the residence of theirs truly, Godfreya, then the first thing that could be caught by either Slayer’s senses would be the sharp, bone-cutting… clings and clangs. In a fixed rhythm that didn’t break. Godfreya’s forge was built in insulating limestone and what looked like one of those numerous, local Ca-Elum metals that they were reluctant to share with the rest of the world. Her house, merged with the forge itself, was but a cylinder tower ranging two-three dozen meters up in the air, built in bright marble. The contents inside were cozy, fancy and quite homely, with a sharp difference in the homely atmosphere of the living room and the heat of the fires in the smithing room.

Godfreya was busy, just as always, but she was about to finish lining up a bent battleaxe owned by her client. Her hammer, however, was no ordinary one – it was runed, coated in incantations, but none of them were visible safe for the slight scent of sulfur and mercury that a perfect bloodhound like the nose of the Warlady would be able to catch on to. Ca-Elum had a vast history of forging, with or without magic, but even with the aid of the arcane, Godfreya was truly someone special.

WC: 555
TWC: 2741

Once the trio reached the rather extravagant building, Medeia and Mina had a rather sweet parting, exchanging iLac numbers, before the blonde disappeared into the busy crowd. The Warlord was not all that eager on her young friend witnessing her darker powers and so had eventually managed to persuade her not to accompany them further. That was not to say that they would not be seeing each other again soon though, as Medeia fully intended on visiting her before she and Addre returned to Fiore. Yes, the goal of theirs was to create the item that Addre wanted so badly but that did not mean that she could not enjoy some quality time with her blonde friend too. It was not often that she visited other nations these days and she wanted to make the most of it.

Godfreya’s abode was a truly lovely sight and Medeia did not even want to think about the cost of building such a home. It must have cost a fortune but given how expensive her works tended to be, the witch had a pretty good idea just how she had come to pay for it. A home fit for a queen and if the rumours were true, this woman was just that, a queen of the hammer, able to create the most beautiful and yet deadly works. It was not a field that Medeia had all that much experience in, her own weapons having been picked up from her adventures rather than hand made. Still, she respected the occupation and was confident enough that the woman would perform her task well.

The sounds of a hammer were the first that reached Medeia’s ears upon entering and soon enough, she found herself wandering through the living room and into the smithing room. The dark mage had no idea whether she was supposed to wander in there but it mattered not, the Warlady went where she pleased, when she pleased and who would try and stop her?

Godfreya was delivering the final flourish upon a battleaxe that she was working on, a rather loud and violent bash that seemed to complete the work. She was a tall woman, a couple of inches taller than Medeia, with red hair streaked with a few grey strands. Her eyes were a dazzling green in colour and as she looked up to gaze at the pair of mages, she spent a few moments sizing them up before speaking. “If you have come to make an order then I am afraid you will have to wait in line. I already have two dozen of them and I do not appreciate queue jump…

Medeia waved a hand and caused a large bar of gold to land on top of the woman’s workbench. “I will gladly give you as much gold as you wish in exchange for letting us jump the queue.”

The redheaded woman approached the bar and picked it up, seeming to be testing the authenticity of it. With a nod of approval, she would then look back towards the mages. “Very well but I want my payment in advance. I want a hundred of these bars. Will that be a problem?”

Medeia shook her head. “Not at all. Just tell me where you want it.”

Godfreya tilted her head to a room behind her. “In there, if you please.”

With that, Medeia would turn to Addre and say. “Go ahead and show her the item and your designs for it. Once I have created her payment, I will return and we can get started.”

She would then proceed to enter the next room and begin to cast her spell, the sound of heavy metal bars soon being heard.

(619 Words)
(3360 TWC)

Woah… that tower was tall. Someone as rich and skilled as Godfreya would definitely be able to afford living in such a place… maybe he should build a to- wait, he didn’t have his Arc of Embodiment anymore. He shoved that away in return for this power, so constructive abilities were… at an all-time low. As a matter of fact, he was the exact opposite of what his previous magic was capable of before.

But that was where this circlet came into the picture. And Godfreya was going to forge that for him… and Medeia was already well-prepared with the expenses, much to his own surprise. Addre had other ideas of paying her off; kidnapping a crush of hers was his first idea. It worked for Medeia last time, so why wouldn’t it work with Godfreya? They were both… well, women of high status – he did know that Medeia established herself much, much, much higher than just that, but simple minds.

Upon entering, he felt the terrible heat of the forge hit his nose like poking himself with a blowtorch. He got used to it in a moment, but the heat gave him daydreams of his circlet again. Ahhh, to just put that thing on and claim it as his own, to showcase it to Kyra and receive her approval – her shy, adorable approval- MNNNNNHHHHH!

One thing was for certain, Addre was thinking very differently from back when he joined the guild on the first day.

And it was a mild surprise to see that Medeia was already prepared with payment; he’d planned to kidnap a girl or two, just like he did for the witch of Errings Rising. But now that Medeia had his back, he simply stepped forward and put the piece of paper he held in his hand on a nearby table, containing his own drawing of the circlet… and what a simple drawing it was. A beam of metal horizontally on the middle, with three heads – one on each edge and in the middle to resemble a being of Addre’s magic. The right head resembled a demon, the left head resembled a dragon, and the middle one resembled Achlys.

Then, Addre did what he was next-best at – hand gestures. Hammering the air with his clenched fist, then putting something invisible atop his head, and the message should’ve come across.

WC: 393
TWC: 3753

Despite the fact that Addre was unable to speak, Godfreya was able to get the gist of what he wanted. With a nod of her head, she would retrieve the necessary tools that she would require, not wasting a single moment, knowing precisely where every piece of equipment was. The blacksmith would admit that she was rather curious about why he would want such an item but that was not for her to ask. She did not ask questions and what he chose to do with the apparel once she had created it was his business, not hers. The image he drew seemed to give the impression that it was to be infused with magical power. She could not do that, however, the fuel would have to come from him. A fact that she was quick to mention to him. “In order to charge this, you will need to channel your magic into the circlet as I forge it. It will be made for you alone and so will require your essence in order to aid you effectively. Judging from the decoration, this appears to be something to do with multiple slayer magics and so you will need to be able to harness all three of them together in order for this circlet to remain stable while I forge it. This may be difficult to do but it must be done, nonetheless. I do not want my home being turned to rubble, after all.” Her tone was rather no nonsense, meaning every word.

The door to the following room soon opened once more and the Warlord reemerged, having created the necessary gold bars without any trouble, as well as listening to the blacksmith's warning due to her excellent hearing. Medeia had to admit that she was curious as to just what the blacksmith planned to do with all the gold. It would be worth an absolute fortune and already it appeared that Godfreya was well off. Still, she would earn her pay today and the Guild Mistress was certain of that. This would be a forging like no other and as the witch approached and stood beside Addre, she would nod her head towards the blacksmith. “Your payment has been delivered in full and I believe that the time has come to get to work. Do not concern yourself with the risks involved, as I will make certain that nothing goes amiss.”

With that, she would turn to her fellow slayer and offer some simple guidance to him. “All you have to do is focus within. Feel each and every element that you have mastered and combine them together into one stream of magical power. Once that has been achieved then direct it towards the circlet. Your strength will be absorbed into it then and will be attuned to you. Things may get a little hairy for a moment or two but worry not. Just remember that you control your powers and not the other way around. You are a master of all three slayer magics and this is just another chance for you to prove it.”

The blacksmith smiled thinly at that point, agreeing with the sentiment, before beginning to pound on the metal in front of her with the massive hammer, as the forging began.

(547 Words)
(4300 TWC)

Okay… according to Godfreya’s no-bullshit words, in order to actually make this circlet useful to him, he’d have to charge it with his own Magic. And given that he now possessed three schools of Slayer Magic, he’d have to channel each and every one into the product – and he’d have to do so with precision, focus and with the smallest likelihood to blow Godfreya’s expensive tower up. That would be… a damn annoyance. Not only would Godfreya likely never want anything to do with the two again, Medeia’s vacation here would be ruined to some degree. That… oh shit…

That made him sweat. Getting on the Witch’s bad nerves, or nerves overall, was the last thing he wanted to do. Medeia was an ever watchful guardian, but she was also a silent storm and wrath incarnate. He couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d think of him afterwards… and if she thought ill of the younger Slayer, then all hope of winning over Kyra’s heart and affections would be lost for as long as the Witch lived!

All of these panicking thoughts ran through his head like thunder, but the same Witch that he feared began to clear things out… and a path was laid out in front of him. A road to lead his Magic across, so that it would run into the circlet that was being forged as of right now. Just focus… imagine the three streams of Slayer Magic running wild in his very core. Grab them like threads and straighten them out… yes, Addre… just like that. Three, sharp lines – poisonous fumes, burning plasma with bolts of thunder jumping around, and blitzing clear mirrors of fresh ice running down glacial rivers – ran forth towards the circlet. He could visualize it all… and it began to take effect.

He just had to merge them into one stream… riiiiiight out of his whistling mouth, a chaotic mixture of the powers from his Lacrimas and the Magic that Achlys taught him ran out like a slithering snake. At first, it slithered around as if sentient, noticing the Witch and Godfreya… but it began running towards the circlet being hammered. The slithering line looked like a rainbow, but its colors began to shift until… for a moment, it was pitch-black. Nay, it had no color. Neither white nor black… almost transparent.

He began sweating more. This was hellishly difficult, but… it helped that Medeia was watching. If anything, if Kyra was here too, then the headache he was feeling would be non-existent, but so be it. His power… it was all his own, well-deserved power. The toxic fumes that he shed blood, sweat and tears to master… and the two Lacrimas he killed so many to obtain… and the process of ingraining them into his body and develop their powers afterwards… these raw powers were his and his alone. Nobody could take them away from him. So primal, so simple, so forward…

He loved his Magic.

It got to the point where he almost drained his entire pool of mana into the circlet, but upon realizing that, he widened his eyes and slowly… slowed it down. Just enough so that he could brake without causing a sudden burst. His veins were very apparent on his skin, both on his face and his arms and hands, and he opened his mouth as if to utter a word… but a low grunt escaped instead. It was as if he instinctively wanted to say something, but something held him back.

He was afraid… afraid of what he’d poured into the circlet… afraid of what would happen. Did he do it right? Was he successful? It hadn’t blown up yet, so he assumed so at first, but… somehow, all of his Slayer Senses were running amok at the unique magical signals that the circlet was emitting. Something about it was so alien that it would likely even trigger Medeia’s Slayer Senses, despite her being heavens above him. What on earth had he created?

WC: 668
TWC: 4968

Such was the force that Godfreya was striking the circlet with, it was a miracle that the metal did not break completely but such was her mastery with the tool, there was no doubt of that. The sound of each clang was loud enough to even rise above the din that was being created by Addre’s summoning and channelling of his magics, creating a chorus of powerful music that was actually rather pleasant to the ears of all who could hear it. The blacksmith never wasted a moment though, her energy fully focused upon the task at hand, keeping the strikes of her hammer consistent throughout the task. Sweat began to flow from her brow too but such was her professionalism that she refused to stem the flow, she simply continued on, even with the immense amount of magic that was stemming from the boy beginning to affect her. It was almost overpowering and she struggled at times to keep control but following the words of the angel, as well as her own, she continued on.

Standing a few metres away from the two, Medeia watched in silence, her slayer senses allowing her to keep a steady read on the situation before her. The amount of magic that Addre was able to summon was impressive and the angel could recognise the particular scent of each form of magic. The raw power of dragons, the divine strength of the holy and the filthy technique of the demonic race. Together, they were an incredible and yet unpredictable source of magical affinity, which was precisely what she was starting to sense. Something was forming around the circlet, bathing it an aura that was impossible to describe fully. It was different to anything that the holy being had felt before and yet, she believed that this was what was supposed to happen. It was not something to be feared or concerned about, it was simply the next stage in Addre’s evolution as a slayer.

Still, the stress of the procedure was clearly affecting the young man and Medeia only had to look at him for a moment to realise that. He was pushing himself beyond his limits and forcing his powers to bend to his will, to submit to him and his wishes. That was the inner battle that all slayers had to face, between the mage and the magic itself, a fight for survival. To his credit, he was performing admirably and yet, there was something missing from his creation. It was unstable and required something more in order to become fully complete.

He needed her power.

Up until recently, she would never have consented to such a task, considering it a waste of her time and yet, he had proven himself to be a capable mage, with a hunger for strength that was rather admirable. Where many had run away, disappearing into the guild’s mountains, he had remained, determined to make his mark. He had earned his stripes and the Warlord honestly believed that he deserved his reward. That was why she had accompanied him to Ca-Elum in the first place and it was now that he truly needed her.

Summoning her angelic power, the witch would change form, transforming into her mightiest. It was the form of Priya herself and the one that had destroyed hundreds in the battle with Bellum. This was Medeia at her most formidable and as her currently blue eyed gaze turned towards the circlet, she would raise a hand and unleash an almighty beam of light that would light up the entire building. On any other day, it would most likely have destroyed it but such was her control, it would simply release a feeling of gentle warmth, while the majority of it would wrap around Addre’s circlet, fusing its power with the three magics that he had used to create his work. It would fill in the cracks and stabilise his masterpiece.

When it was all said and done, the angel would dismiss her mighty form and return to her Madeline one, a small smile crossing her features as she looked at the now glowing circlet. She spoke only a few words but they held within them something that very few if any males at all would ever hear from her. Pride. “Try it on and see if it fits.”

Godfreya would be smiling too, nodding her head in approval. “I have created many masterpieces in my time but today, they have all been surpassed.”

(750 Words)
(5718 TWC)

Too much… but never enough. Deep inside, he hungered for more, though his own mortal soil couldn’t handle the excess that was gathering – a truly gluttonous ravening for magical power that the Arc of Embodiment could never satisfy him with. In the end, it wasn’t just the amount of magic that he craved… it was the honesty.

A dragon goes ‘I will destroy you’ without a second thought.

A deity goes ‘I will end you’ without hesitation.

And a demon goes ‘I will slaughter you’ without any holds barred. These three corners embodied a ferocious sense of honesty, even in their attempted lies. Maybe each entity was unique in its own right – maybe dragons, deities and demons were more characteristic than what met the eye – but Addre liked the simplicity in it all.

And as if he was about to complain about the lack of divinity, he was reminded that a goddess was already in their midst – Medeia, with her sudden transformation, contributed with a ray of flowing light that embedded itself into the forged circlet, completing its shape and closing any wounds. The circlet… was finally complete.

Addre was thrilled. His hands instinctively drew towards the circlet, picking it up and placing it on his head – Achlys’ face appeared as the forefront emblem, with the head of a dragon to his right, and the head of a demon to his left. Magic leaked out of it, forming archaic lines of text over Addre’s face that… disappeared soon after. Embedded not only to his magical signature, but also to his very being, his essence and soil. His soul and flesh, his name and mark. None else may wear this circlet.

Addre frantically began scribbling words of gratitude to Godfreya and to Medeia- I mean, Madeline. Particularly, he scribed to Madeline:

‘I hope Kyra will think I look cool with it.’

WC: 310
TWC: 6028