[MCR x Reflection] Wanna try, wanna try, wanna try, wanna try, WANNA TRY!?

god i love logic. great man, great man

Necromancers — and, in a broader sense, dark magicians — are such powerful characters because they know what logically can and cannot be fixed but they just say "screw logic, screw society, screw every warning I have ever been given, I am *making* this possible" and proceed to do the most insane thing imaginable. This isn't just a Wei Wuxian / Xue Yang thing... I've noticed it in other media too (like how pyromancers are typically emotional ect.) Something about brilliance and defiance.

oh, absolutely, I think it's about in particular necromancers where it's literally taking one of the absolutes of life (death) and going "but what if I decided death didn't conquer all" about it. it's taking the thing that, as its base, is supposed to be the most reliable constant, and turning it inside out. even more than other forms of dark magic, necromancy is really pushing the "perversion of nature, interference with the natural order" thing to its limit. then there's the general disrespect for the dead involved and pretty much everybody has rules about respecting the dead of some form or another, which adds another layer of transgression and violation of order into the mix.

which is why necromancers are so sexy. defying fundamental laws of the universe and violating cultural taboos is sexy, you see.

I mean in general it's why wizard hubris is such a thing that's seen across (particularly western) media: it's taking "what if someone had the power to fundamentally disregard some of the things that are considered normal and constant and certain" and a certain horror - but also fascination! - of what results.

the degree to which the horror/fascination divide falls one way or the other is going to depend on a lot of different factors, and there are definitely places, cultures, and times where the cultural relationship to magic (to use a general word that's eliding a lot of differences, purely for convenience within the context of this ask) has been more integrated into daily life than it is in, say, the modern secular USAmerica. but even there, what I know of has indicated that there are still rules and limits and boundaries for that magic - that certain magic is allowed, but there's bad magic too, magic that in some way is a disruption to the system, and the potential for magic to be misused by the wrong people or in the wrong way.

but I'm wandering off topic. necromancers sexy I'm pretty sure is the main point

Hi! Absolutely love your school quiz (I got Life btw which is me to an absolute tee) and I just wanted to know if you'd consider publishing all the results since I'm a curious bean and want to know what the other school results are 😅

(link to quiz) (i recommend others take the quiz because this has spoilers for the answers)

hello anon,

I figured out how to log back into Uquiz because of this ask.

and hooo boy. some stats. first off: I made the quiz 2 years ago. god, i was 19. innocent, a darling, a babe in the woods. uncancelled, free.

Grand Total of quiz takers: 1,326! buncha nerds! many of them are myth wizards, apparently!

Now here are your Answers for the Quiz!

STORM:

“That which can be imagined, can be achieved.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Storm wizards, known as Diviners, are creative and strong willed, though easily distracted at times. They have a tendency to be dramatic, but that makes them even more fun as companions. They are electric, and powerful, and wonderful people. They are diverse in their interests, but all follow the same motto of achievement, of having a concrete object to show their progress as wizards.

ICE:

“… with Persistence, Victory is assured.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Ice wizards, also known as thaumaturges, are intelligent. They can become perfectionists, and can be almost too self sacrificial in their role. They can be unyielding, not changing their ways in this deep need to be right. Their closed off and curt nature leads to an isolation. To melt the walls around an ice wizard's heart, to be let in to those deep emotions and memories, is something rare and to be cherished.

FIRE:

“If the Mind is like a candle, the Heart is like the sun.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Fire wizards, or Pyromancers, are passionate and wild, impulsive. They rush in on instinct as opposed to what logic would dictate. They are, down to their core, good. They are trying their best, even if it means they burn out. Their passion can manifest in a number of ways, many detrimental, but having a network of friends to anchor them can lead to a very powerful leader.

DEATH:

��Timor mortis conturbat me.” (The Fear of Death Confounds Me)- School Motto, Wizard101

Death wizards (necromancers), are morbid and fond of dark humor, as long as it doesn't make light of the tragedy of their school. They have a hard time connecting with other schools of wizards, because of their personality, but also the fundamental understanding of the Spiral that they cannot share.

MYTH:

“To control the Future, one must look to the Past.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Myth wizards, Conjurers, are very control driven. They are imaginative and have a deep investment in history, whether mythological or human, and they try to learn from the past as best they can, because the cyclical nature of time vexes them the most of any school. They can also have visions of the past, present, and future, through many different mediums, but most of all through dreams.

LIFE:

"As we have been Created, so must we Create."-School Motto, Wizard101

Life wizards, Theurgists, are kind people. Their magic derives from the body, keeping themself and others whole. They can be almost parental at times in their protectiveness, though they tend to feel helpless in the face of grave danger, only able to pick up the pieces and heal afterwards. When only around other life wizards, they can become vicious and competitive in their usefulness, a secret hierarchy few outsiders know of.

BALANCE:

“Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog, Wool of Bat, and Tongue of Dog.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Balance Wizards, Sorcerers, do not draw upon magic in the traditional sense of the other six main schools of Ravenwood. There is no internal or external draw, but from the magic itself, the elements of each school understood in such ways that they may become one whole.The most flexible of the schools, they meditate and try to understand many things other take for granted. This may lead to an almost condescending view of other wizards at times, for they are never willing to understand the balance of the Spiral.

STAR:

“Your path is illuminated by the light Yet darkness lets the stars shine bright.” ~J.L.W. Brooks (School Motto)

Star wizards specialize in auras, enhancing their own magic in order to more effectively defeat their foe. While an accessory school in game, it is believed that they are prone to distraction, fond of glitter, and rather giggly at times. They can be vicious, can fight as well as the next wizard. They will fight until the end, until the last star dies out, and even they will not know when that is, and they will not stop.

SUN:

“The strength of the Sun will show our inherent capacity for truth and transformation.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Sun Wizards are primarily leaders, an excellent figurehead and rallying point for others. Their magic is used to enhance their spells in battle, enchanting or mutating the inherent magic in the spell cards for just one encounter. These wizards do not crumble under pressure as others may, they are strong and inherently hold onto that strength in order to guide and pull their allies through to the other side of a difficult situation.

MOON:

“The moon is a transformation that shows where change is necessary.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Moon Wizards use their magic to polymorph into other creatures or beings, changing their spell deck and statistics mid-battle. They must have a strong sense of self and grasp upon their own identity in order to continue to utilize these magics and remain who they were originally when they polymorph back. They have so many secrets they fear sharing, but when they do it is the ultimate form of their trust, and they bond with friends for life.

SHADOW:

"It is unstable and difficult to control." Wizard101.com on Shadow magic.

Shadow wizards are few and far between. The backlash the magic inflicts upon its wizards is difficult and painful, but a fair way to rebalance the Spiral after using this reality bending, strange magic. Shadow wizards are capable of great things, but in that greatness, there is no indication whether it shall be for the good or the harm of the worlds and peoples of the Spiral.

WORD SEARCH

This is an old tag from @autumnalwalker

Tagging - @saltysupercomputer @frostedlemonwriter @toribookworm22 and @mjjune

With - over, open, blow, silence, and hit

My Words were - line, depths, internal, egg, & never

LINE

“And Sioban, and the fae you had make the dress, and the sprite designer you had working on the decor for her room, and the garden gnome you have working on plants,  would you like me to continue?  It’s not like we could hide the remodeling of…” he had about said Veronica’s name again.  It had been her dressing room that was now going to be Martenique’s room.  “The room to be for your new love.  It is limited to this house, of that I am sure, but it was not Vasilus nor I.  Maybe you should consider how many females you’ve fucked over that know.  Sioban’s your brother’s current toy, so there is no reason to believe that she would endanger your sprite, but who might YOU have made jealous.  You are so good at that, sir.” He knew that he was getting close to a line, he knew it, but someone needed to talk sense to Casperius, and his older brother was busy at the moment.

DEPTHS

Watching him walk in, Brie surveyed the Demon King from the Realm of Mysts and Shadows.  He was tall, handsome, and dark.  His skin tanned, hair jet black, and eyes that seemed almost like black pools that wanted to drag you into their depths, there was no doubt he was imposing.  It wasn’t just his looks however, his entire being was dark, still there was also something alluring about him, intriguing even.  She would not rush to judgment, good or bad, until she had met and interacted with him more.  Brie had learned very well that good looks did not mean much, but she would admit this new king was nicer to look at than the previous ones who had paid visit to her court.  It was his behavior and the aura he gave off that would be of more importance to her.  She was also aware that while he may have been one way in the past, time changed all beings, the King of Uffern included.

INTERNAL

Suddenly Anna felt unsure of what was transpiring between them.  The undeniable attraction, the growing passion, the connection that seemed to transcend logic all had been pushed aside when his lips met hers, but he now was bringing that forward.  She knew his words were not a rejection, she could tell from his whole demeanor that he was fighting with himself the same way that she was internally warring, and that scared her a little.

EGG

-Don’t have-

A bit of Lore

Grigori are watchers.  They can work for a deity or they can work for The Source.  How much power that they have and what abilities they are granted depends on who they work for.  While it is a type of being, it is also a job title.  To put it simply, they are those tasked with keeping the universe in order.  Abriella and Dez are Grigori for The Source.  Annabella, Jean Pierre, and Armaund are Grigori for Div.  There are other Grigori that you will meet along the way and each one will have different reasons for why they were chosen, and abilities that match their role in the universe.

NEVER

Even with the other females in Imperium, Talon didn’t have the rapport that he did with Delilah and it fucking turned him on.  It excited him sexually and cerebrally.  Could he get her to move into his room and never leave?  He figured it was a little early for that, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long.

THE IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG LIST - @ceph-the-ghost-writer @kjscottwrites @writingpotato07 @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @shipping-through-eternity @outpost51 @inkspellangel @blind-the-winds @sunset-a-story @writingmaidenwarrior @clairelsonao3

What does/did Shio find most challenging about being the Warrior of Light? I imagine she enjoyed the opportunity to travel and see cultures in so many different places, including those on the First, but I suspect there were things she liked less.

Did she find the pressure uncomfortable? Too many people depending upon her? Or perhaps her sense of duty as the Warrior of Light meant that she could not focus upon the things she more enjoyed, such as exploration and study? Or was there ever a time she just felt emotionally exhausted by the losses and trials she experienced?

OH BOY THIS ONE HITS SHIO'S STORY PERFECTLY. Strap in.

I feel that the best way I can answer this question is just to recount the ARR story from Shio's perspective. If people like it, I will recount other parts of the narrative upon request.

So at the beginning of ARR, newly arrived in Limsa Lominsa, Shio is wide-eyed and earnest. She is, at this time, fifteen.

Doing general odd jobs around the Thalassocracy, she is pretty happy! The pirates - sorry, sailors - remind her of the Confederacy back home on the Ruby Sea, if much nicer. There's lovely things to study and learn, marauding, the Upright Thieves, the arts of the Arcanist. There's even a guild for her favourite past time, fishing.

Then she gets hired by the Scions.

She is special, they tell her, because she has been blessed by the Mothercrystal, the Star's will. Blessed to be able to do myriad things, but most pertinently to her new employers, blessed to be able to slay Primals without fear of their mind-warping influence.

Shio, her head full of tales of great heroes and Kami slaying Oni, accepts this duty. She agrees to be the Primal-slayer of this organisation.

In her mind, they are just reflections of Kami, and Hydaelyn herself is just the Kami of the Star - the Kami are in all so why would the Star be an exception?

Laying low the Lord of Flames and Lord of the Crags is a simple enough pair of tasks. They even let her meet some new people - and serve as her introduction to the term "beast tribe", from the lips of leaders and employers alike.

Am I a beast? the Kojin wonders.

Upon returning to the Waking Sands, however, Shio's life changes. The acrid smell of blood. The sight of bodies, strewn. And one person, who would not be there if Shio had not convinced them...

Noraxia dies in Shio's arms, and part of Shio dies with her.

Receiving orders from what remains of the Scions, Shio picks up the pieces as best she can. This isn't her job, but she understands. The organisation is in shambles. She fights the Garleans. Rescues the other Scions. Expects to be put back to work fighting Kami, or wished well and sent on her way.

"Lay siege to Castrum Meridianum."

This... isn't what she was hired for. But she grits her teeth. She sees the logic of it. She fights through the stronghold. She destroys the Ultima Weapon, strikes the Black Wolf down.

Is slain by the Ascian Paragon. Is dragged back from Yomi by Hydaelyn.

Maybe, she thinks, when I put this pyromancer to rest, I will be allowed to return to adventure. To exploring. To being myself, instead of this... thug, that the job I so foolishly took is turning me into.

Pulling one of her employers' bodies from the wreckage, she prays that she will get to return to who she is.

She will not get to for a long time.

She does not know it, but she just turned sixteen.

Different Types of Spell Casting/Weaving

We’ll start with Wizardos…

Pyromancer-instead of having a book type Grimoire, pyromancers will oft carry a Glyph Lantern, Candlestick, Torch, etc. This Lantern would have to be crafted by a Master Enchanter or Master of Arcane Smithing. That being said, most Dwarven Master Smiths are so immensely skilled, they can craft a far superior Glyph Lantern compared to any other mortal arcane smith and WITHOUT the need for arcane knowledge. This is because dwarves literally put their heart and soul(and by default, a bit of their magic) into everything they craft. The problem is just finding a dwarf who cares enough about ya to craft something for ya. ANYWAYS, the lantern is designed to constantly generate an amorphous and flame (fire that has not yet decided what type of fiery reaction it’s going to be). This makes it much, MUCH easier to cast any and all fire-based spells with far less effort and concentration required. Glyph Lanterns are sentient (like all Grimoires) and can manifest a fiery familiar to automatically defend their Wizard and assist with some spells. Pyromancy is extremely popular as it is both practical for combat, but also flashy and good for entertainment. Fire will always be a Wizard’s best friend 👍. Pyro Glyphs are also the the most essential element in most, if not all, healing spells. The generation of heat is required to reinvigorate cell growth and whatnot. Pyros will be able to turn their Aethflame into healing heat that’s absorbed by the cells, burns away sickness and boosts regeneration. As with all Aether-based healing, it heals your body at the expense of your total vitality. Essentially, you’re sacrificing time off you’re total lifespan to heal in the moment.

One would think ice wizardry would be a branch of Hydromancy WRONG!!! Aether cares not for YOUR logic, it functions on the logic of dreams made real. *clears throat* That being said, it kinda makes sense since the Pyro is simply turning the Aethflame inside out. An inverted blaze that absorbs all nearby heat, effectively freezing targets. Pyromancers are usually well studied in the fields of alchemy and witchcraft, as these skills allow them to craft an unlimited number of reactants for their Aethflame.

Electromancers- the favored class of Wizardry for duelists. They tend to stick to tradition, wielding Glyph staves or wands with a targeting glyph scopes attached. Lightning is by far the most practical battle arcana as it is relatively easy to cast, unbelievably fast, and exceedingly lethal upon a successful hit. Electro Glyphs are also the key components of enchantment wizardry, allowing the wizard to effect objects on a molecular level. They can change the objects form, give temporary life to inanimate objects, or leave reactive traps inside the target. The most common use obviously being to simply encrypt nonmagical objects with quasi-magical effects and activatable abilities.

"What I said in our battle is correct isn't it." The cryomancer and pyromancer stood alone upon a cliffside that overlooked the PLF's hideout. Tonight they stood as lookouts. Being stuck with eachother now for the night, it was only logical to allow his musings to speak up. For as annoying as Dabi was sometimes, he was now technically an ally now. "Does...it hurts you?" Tipping his hood down, the rare sight of quiet crystal blue eyes lingered on the slightly older male before him.

Frankly, he hadn’t expected there little war with the MLA to end the way it had- and he certainly didn’t expect nor want to be in charge of a squadron with Geten. Hell, he could probably go the full night without speaking a word. His muscles and burns still ached from their fight still. And, yeah, Geten had been correct in his assessment. It was something that Dabi didn’t quite like to advertise, it was why he knew the fight with Machia would be a waste- why burn himself alive when even his best wasn’t enough? But for all his years on the streets, Dabi was certain about one thing: if you have a weakness, don’t advertise it. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he retorts, rolling his eyes and readjusting himself to relieve some tension in his legs.

JB exchange recs part 3: now with themes!

(see part 1 for disclaimers/justifications and an uncategorized list of a few fics that seemed like they were written specifically for me, only one of which actually was)

(see part 2 for some angst, as well as some warm fluff)

I don’t know about you but I like grouping things and seeing patterns where there really aren’t any. And I saw a lot of probably-nonexistent patterns in the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange fic offerings! For instance...

Vaguely WWII/postwar-flavored: however long the night, the dawn will break again (M, 3.6k) has Jaime and Brienne as ships passing in the night... ships with history. Coming Home from Lonely Places (T, 4k) declared war ON MY EMOTIONS as rival spies Jaime and Brienne come into contact at different points in the war(s).

A heaping helping of Cersei: I enjoy a good not-totally-crazy-and portrayal of Cersei, I’ll admit it. On the fun side, Cersei survives but is doomed to live as Aunt Celia (N, 2.6k) (also featuring a lot of good, practical women who don’t put up witih Jaime’s shit either). On the gothic side, I won’t give away what’s up with the Lannister siblings in the atmospheric-as-hell Half-Life (T, 19k) but it’s great. And on the deep-character-analysis side, I adore how in the dark, I thought I saw you (T, 17k) progresses in POV from Jaime, to Cersei, to Brienne.

Dream time: Technically I could list Those Who Favor Fire (T, 9k) under the space AUs, but the awesomely weird and dreamlike effects the mysterious planet has on our heroes is the best part of it. More on-the-nose for this section is To Sleep, Perchance to Dream (T, 3k) which has Jaime and Brienne sharing a strange liminal space in their dreams, even though they don’t know each other in real life. Both of these just nail the weirdness of dream logic and the outside-of-reality feel.

G-g-g-ghoooooosts: In a post-book Casterly Rock, Brienne is bothered by supernatural shenanigans In the Hall of Ghosts (N, 6k). From the post-show category, A Different Choice (T, 3.7k) has a particular spirit offering post-bricks Jaime a second chance. And in the modern AU Haunted (T, 19.k), Jaime is driven out of his apartment by what he swears is a ghost, forcing Brienne to let him sleep on her couch.

Food as a love language: Companion (T, 9k) explores Jaime and Brienne’s canon relationship through food-focused vignettes, which is a fantastic idea and extremely well-executed. The hot gold hush of noon (T, 1.5k) has Brienne taking Jaime through the Australian outback on a foraging trip, doing extraordinary character work in such a small space.

And then, two of my favorite tropes/themes/flavors:

Fun With Pantheons: I adore a good mythology. The Girl who had Two Gods (T, 4.4k, Jaime/Brienne/Arthur Dayne) is a beautiful story of Brienne being born at an inconvenient moment and getting assigned some lesser-known deities to be her patrons. The Jaime-Arthur dynamic is absolutely wonderful, and the absolute softness of Brienne being incorporated into it just made me melt. On the other hand, Brienne gets to be the deity in come in with the rain (T, 2.3k)-- in fact, as the goddess of Spring she’s the only one who responds to young Jaime’s prayers after he fails to kill Aerys’s pyromancers in time to stop King’s Landing from going up in flames. She wasn’t supposed to do that, and he’s, you know, a kingslayer, so they go on the run together. I loved minor-goddess Brienne standing up to the Seven (and the Seven themselves are really well done), and this one has I one of my favorite Happily Ever Afters.

Modern + Magic: Aw yeah, that’s the good stuff. On the shorter side, I love the deft way The Girl Who Painted Lions (T, 2.2k, and gifted to the same person as The Girl who had Two Gods, which doesn’t *for sure* mean they have the same author but it’s a fair bet) weaves the magic system into the story of Jaime and Brienne meeting, separating, and reconnecting (and something about Jaime being able to cast protection wards just makes me feel so warm inside). And I know I’m not the first to bring it up but electric boogaloo (T, 11k) is such a masterclass in worldbuilding, connecting the magic system and types to the factions and families from canon in a way that is absolutely perfect. And it takes place at a series of annual masquerade balls! And Brienne’s mask is made of lightning. Swoon.

So there you have it, an incomplete list of what I enjoyed over the last three weeks (god has it only been three? what even is time?). Hopefully more to come when I actually finish all the reading! And thanks, all possible thanks to the exchange mods-- @slipsthrufingers, @firesign23, @nire-the-mithridatist, and @samirant --who worked tirelessly and over many time zones to make all of this possible. And who also let me-- invited me to, even-- play in the sandbox of exchange data! (oh you can bet there’s some infographics incoming this weekend, just you wait....) (that’s a threat)

You know compared to Hanzo I often forget Kuai Liang is a fucking trained assassin that probably knows many ways to kill people more then Hanzo does

ehhh Id say theyre pretty equals in that regard. Like yeah the Shirai Ryu and the Lin Kuei rebranded recently but they still really were ninja/assassin clans at first

Tho logically Kuai was trained and/or has killed earlier than Hanzo because the Lin Kuei is like that + he has more... creative ways to kill people with his cryomancy, which he had at birth. BUT on the other hand... why give assassination contracts to Tundra when Sub Zero (Bi-han) is right there and, as far as you could tell back then, older and better.

Meanwhile Hanzo, even tho he wasnt a born pyromancer, like he only gained hellfire in his thirties, WAS said to be the very best his clan ever produced so even if the Shirai Ryu was less proficient at killing than the Lin Kuei, the dude definitely knows how to kill.

"You had a dream about me?"

you... I've seen you / not accepting!

“More than once, my friend!”

“But- in this specific one- you were a knight. Or something like that, I believe; you were wrapped in steel plates, each segment tested by time and trial but polished to a mirror sheen, and I knew that this was something, in this dream context, normal for witches of the pyromantic kind. I’m going to assume the armor was enchanted to resist fire or something like that, but I won’t search for sensible in a dream.”

“So you explain to me that you’re hunting for a demon, and not only that: you ask me if you’ve seen it pass by, the way one asks how a detested neighbor is doing, the same faux nonchalance. I tell you no. I’m fairly sure I have not, in fact, seen any demon, to which you insist that there is one, and if there is no one around here but me- then the conclusion is only one, is it?”

“And you know, the logic of it was so irrefutable in my dream that I struggled to come up with a way to say, without doubt, that I wasn’t a demon and that I wasn’t the demon you were hunting down specifically. How do you offer tamper-proof evidence that you are not someone else? The obvious choice is to offer details that only you can know. I scrambled in that direction. I am your friend Heysel!, I began, you know me? I’m not a demon? and you retorted instantly I am unconvinced, and unsheathed your sword- it was a remarkably beautiful sword, I must add- and I was there saying WAIT, wait, wait, Quela, my friend, my witch… knight… pyromancer friend, see, here’s something only I can know: when we studied together pyromancy, during the first lessons, my flame glued itself like an apple fearful of gravity to my hand, stalwartly refusing to leave my palm like it a flame should. It took some attempts more to succeed. See? Would your demon know that?”

“To which you answered, that’s exactly what a demon would say, and then I abruptly woke up. Thankfully. I very much did not want to be slain by dream you, the way I’d rather not be slain by the real you.”

“Speaking of which, I promise I’m not a demon. Please believe me.”

god i love this man

(also i've never uploaded an image this detailed to tumblr before is this just how the compresssion looks [shit]) (never mind it looks like it's meant to in the real post [false alarm everyone])

Hiraeth Chapter 59: Challenger

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Challenger

Notes: In case you missed it, I did actually upload a chapter on Wednesday. I just did it slightly later in the day. Want to make sure nobody missed it so if they weren't confused that's what was going on. Enjoy the chapter!

(-~-)

It had been a clever ambush.

As much as the eldest of the Dark Knight Sparda's kin was loathed to admit it, there was clearly some form of planning that had gone into this attack. This had been entirely too well organized to not be the result of a carefully laid trap. He knew he was not the sort to walk headfirst into a trap, and he got the impression that neither was Lucia. But here they were, beset upon on all sides by a band of beings wielding dark and unfamiliar sorcery. 

It was not clear to him at this point if they were human or not, but he cared very little either way. He needed to see them dead, and then they needed to proceed with their mission. This was to be a brief trip, nothing more. And they would be a brief obstacle on that trip.

Stepping back out of the path of an oncoming fireball, the Darkslayer rushed forward to meet head to head with his opponent. Clearly seeing their imminent death, the pyromancer teleported elsewhere or, at the very least became intangible momentarily before making their way over and out of the path of his attack. It was a maneuver that was as smart as it was aggravating, but at least now he knew that his opponent was capable of such trickery. He was determined to not allow it to happen a second time.

"Have you encountered these buffoons previously?" Vergil asked off-handedly as he formulated a secondary plan of attack. He was going to have to pay careful attention to his opponent's maneuvers. These were clearly more intelligent than the run-of-the-mill demons that they went against on a normal basis back home. Perhaps this island was home to a greater demonic gateway? He knew very little of what had brought his younger twin here in the first place, but if devils or human necromancers of this sort were this plentiful in these parts, then it made perfect sense what he might have been called there to do.

Glancing over at him as she buried her twin blades into the chest of one of the unlucky attackers, she nodded in agreement. It then occurred to her that these weren't the sort of beings that you probably saw back where he came from. Much like animals, it seemed that certain demons were native to certain areas. That made sense. She just never really thought too much about it. Why ponder it when they were going to die one way or another?

"Yes, unfortunately. This is far from the first time they have made their presence known. We have managed to push them back several times, but as devils do, they always seem to find their way back." She let one of the pyromancers believe that he had snuck up on her before stealthily spinning and showering him with the rain of daggers. The creature gurgled and then collapsed to the ground, dissipating into a mixture of ash and smoke. Whether there was actually anything inside of that hooded robe was beyond her, but so long as her blades worked properly against them, she would worry about that later.

Turning his attention back to his opponent, Vergil noted the trickery that Lucia had just used against her opponent. Yes, that made sense. They needed time to build up their attack, so using an opening provided by what seemed to be a distracted foe was a logical move if not slightly cowardly on the pyromancer's part. Why not bathe them with their own attack? Especially when they couldn't move? It would be far from the first time he had encountered a devil that behaved this way. The Soul Eaters that resideded within the walls of Temen Ni Gru came to mind. And to some extent, the Dullahan as well. By that metric, the fallen angels had to a degree as well. Now that he thought about it, this was actually a relatively common quirk among lesser demons. Perhaps he would have to keep that in mind for future encounters.

Just as the pyromancer closed in on him and readied its staff for an attack, a volley of summoned blades rained down from above it, pinning it to the ground and relieving it of its life force. Vergil then performed a full 180-degree turn and rushed one of his more unsuspecting opponents, a devil that, up until then, hadn't probably paid him any mind. Its focus had been on Lucia, the very last mistake it would ever make.

Meeting back up in the center courtyard, they stood nearly back to back, paying close attention to their surroundings. It seemed that there were still a few of the pyromancers left, and it would be foolish of them to retreat into the temple's interior with them still on the offensive, so they would finish this battle here and now.

As Lucia used her throwing daggers to take out another pair of the troublesome corrupted sorcerers, Vergil buried his blade into the chest of another, cutting it up the middle before spinning to stab another that had come from behind his back, his blade passing under his arm and up into the unfortunate creature's chest. One would imagine that creatures like this would learn not to flank their opponents in such a futile manner, but it seems that they had numbers on their side more than anything else and very little in the way of actual intellect. How typical.

"Of all of my younger brothers' companions, you were the only one I have never seen wielding a firearm. Am I to assume that you simply do not bother with him?" In truth, he already assumed he knew the answer, But he found no harm in asking. Perhaps she was opposed to their usage in the same way that he was? Or perhaps it was against the creed of her people? Either way, he could only assume she would have used one by now if that was something that she was used to doing.

"No one here uses them. And honestly, even if they did I still probably wouldn't. They simply are not my style. I have no experience with them." She charged at a group of them, running and jumping so that she could kick off one of the pillars that stood near the entrance. It toppled over and crushed one of the pyromancers as she kicked off of the wall of the structure that housed the Arcana and used her twin blades to cut down two of the pyromancers on either side of her. She landed and stood, brushing herself off as they fell to the ground dead. "But I can't help but notice that you do not either? Dante seems to be quite proficient with them. I can only imagine you know how to use them as well?"

It occurred to him at that moment that he had actually opened the door to this question, so he wasn't entirely sure why it took him by surprise when it was brought up. "I suppose you and I are one the same in regards to preference, then. Though I do suspect I have my own personal reasons. I don't abide by them. They… conflict with my preferred approach."

Lucia watched as he cut down another devil, leaping onto the top wall to take another from behind. She shook her head, kicking and slashing at one of the pyromancers that had made the mistake of trying to charge her from the front while its opponent launched fireballs at her from behind. She ducked and rolled to the side, allowing the fireball to graze the top of one of the unkempt hedges before hitting the wall and leaving a scorch mark. Thankfully the outer structure of the temple was not structural.

"Yes, I can see that. But so long as they die and my people are safe, I care little for how it is done. Whatever method works best for each hunter is the superior method." She leaped to join him, flanking him taking care of the enemies that approached from behind as he took care of the ones that came from behind her. After a moment, she kicked the final pyromancer off of the wall and watched it hit the ground with a thud, the creature stuttering as it attempted to find the strength to stand.

He hopped down the wall with her, the young guardian taking out her opponent as Vergil sheathed his blade. He then withdrew it a final time, turning to slash a single remaining opponent who had attempted to make a run for the gate. He would not allow it to retreat to inform its peers. He would give no quarter. Parlay was not requested and, as such, would not be granted.

The devil fell motionless to the ground, no blood coming from it as it dissipated and seemed to melt into the very earth below it. A strange bunch these specific demons were, seemingly more cloak than an actual physical being. It would not be the first time he had seen beings of this sort of disposition, but these were uniquely humanoid, and as such, were curious by their very principle. Were these humans who had turned to darker sorceries long ago only to fall prey to the perversions of demonic presence, or were they devils mimicking humans in an unconvincing but notable way? Perhaps there was some text on the subject that he could read into at a later date once he had nothing more important to do.

Vergil couldn't find any compelling reason to disagree with her, even if the methodology conflicted with his own personal ideology. But her point was solid. So long as your enemy died and underhanded tactics were not used, he could find no fault in that method. It was valid, whether he preferred it or not. Watching his brother and youngest son do battle against all manner of devils and demons had taught him that much. Oh, how his younger self would cringe in distaste. How tolerant he was now in comparison.

"A fair point."

But now it was time for them to turn their attention to the temple. If they ran into no further resistance, this could theoretically be a simple in and out trip. He didn't expect it to go that easy, but was it so wrong of him to wish for it just this once?

Lucy nodded in grateful acknowledgment of his statement. "Thank you. This should not take long. I simply need to assess the severity of the situation. You're free to follow me inside if you'd like, though there's nothing really to see aside from some old carvings on the walls and a few ruins. It's a maze in there."

Nodding, he stepped forward, silently making it clear that he would accompany her. There was no point in coming this far only to stand outside and wait like a child at the doctor's office with their parents waiting in the lobby for the appointment to be over. "Then perhaps it is best that I accompany you. If nothing else, it will expedite our return trip."

She smiled for a moment. "Then allow me to lead the way, son of Sparda. This might be a fascinating history lesson for you. Unlike Dante, I get the impression that the history and culture of my people might not be entirely lost on you."

He nodded in agreement. "Proceed, then."

(-~-)

Reaching the top of the roof had been a bit more difficult than either of them had guessed when the idea had been suggested. Neither of them had been prepared for just how few buildings there were with which to reach the desired altitude, both of them clearly underestimating the sheer difficulty that came with trying to climb up a building that had no easily accessible path upward.

Sirrus landed for the Sun on top of the closest building to their target, standing up and brushing himself off. The entire roof was caked with dust and grime, something that his rather expensive boots didn't agree with. At least they cleaned easily, and the rain had probably made the situation worse than it normally was. And to be honest, that was the least of his problems right now. They could very well be an active danger. His footwear was a secondary or tertiary issue at best.

Arriving with a huff, Griffon flapped exhaustedly towards his target and was clearly struggling to stay airborne. Realizing this, the avian demon dipped downward to allow his master to let go of him, the young summoner rolling to a stop and pulling himself quickly to his feet in a sort of rolling motion. He'd become rather adept at that given the frequency in which it happened, but he was appreciative of the fact that this time he was at least close to the ground. Nothing did a number on someone's knees worse than having to fall from the height of a small building and land on concrete. No amount of last-second knee-buckling to transfer your momentum into the ground was going to help you with that.

"Do you see anything?" V asked as he surveyed their surroundings, not seeing much of anything himself. It stood to reason that if someone was watching them, they would be well hidden. He liked to think that their opponent probably figured that they would be smart enough to at least look around and not just walk straight back to their house and lead him to their front door. But then there was always the chance that their rival did see that little potential in their cognitive functions and had underestimated them.

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately, I don't. But given the circumstances, I didn't entirely expect to, either. He's smart. Very smart. How unfortunate for us." He folded his arms around his chest, seemingly deep in thought as he looked out over the night sky. The soft mist that the once-mighty storm had devolved into was cool and pleasant, a welcome respite after the intense heat that they had generated during the fight. That was always one of the most irritating things for him to do after using his powers was to cool back off. Generating intense heat was both uncomfortable and exhausting at times. That energy had to some fr somewhere, after, and the laws of thermodynamics did apply somewhat to inhuman abilities. All the more reason to use his power sparingly.

"We will catch him. It's only a matter of time before he finds us or we find him. And after this, I feel like he may be losing his patience." V stepped forward, looking around them to try and get a better feel for his surroundings. It felt somewhat different up here as opposed to below. Something in the atmosphere around them was just... Unrecognizable. Like a slight heaviness in the air that shouldn't have been there, or a static charge that had no place in the space they were in. He couldn't put words to it, but he did recognize it. "I get the impression that the clock is ticking down towards the inaction of Belial's plan, and considering that I am a part of it, they'll want me present for it. It's inevitable."

"... Correct."

Both the young summoner and the adjudicator turned around rapidly, astutely aware of the fact that neither of them had said that. The dark, otherworldly voice that had spoken was completely unrecognizable to them, and that immediately set them off. This what he had been sensing? 

Jumping back towards serious a sign, V summoned Griffon and Shadow to his side, entirely unwilling to allow whoever this was to get any closer. And as soon as he did, he realized that his assumptions had been far more accurate than he might have liked.

"So you are the one who has been causing so much grief while I was gone." Sirrus's tone was calm, but completely and utterly unamused. His demeanor was a complete misnomer in comparison to the broiling rage that he actually felt on the inside. This was the man who had hurt Flora and had attempted to end V's life. "Say the word and I shall end him here now. His feet will never move from where he now stands."

V spared him a momentary glance before turning his attention back to their opponent. As tempting as that was, he had questions first. He gently gestured with his hand for Sirrus to stand down before turning his attention fully to his pursuer, his facial expression alone indicating that he was less than pleased to see him. "You can speak, then. Good. Because I have questions, and you'd better have the answers."

The summoner in the white robes then turned their attention to Sirrus for a moment, tilting their head slightly to one side as they seemed to study him. They became still, almost as though something about what they were seeing didn't make sense to them and they were physically trying to cope with it. It seems that he had very little interest in actually acknowledging V's statement. "... What are you?"

Resting his hand on the hilt of his blade from within his coat, Sirrus took a more aggressive stance. He planted his right foot firmly on the ground, shifting his center of balance slightly so that if he needed to draw his blade he could on a moment's notice. "The thing you fear most, should you continue to pester him. He has questions. I suggest you answer them."

He seemed to take Sirrus's comment seriously, but it was actually hard to tell considering the fact that neither of them could actually see his face. He shifted his buddy towards V, cleaning his head in a manner that implied he was somewhat miffed, and that perhaps this was not how he had seen his plan coming to fruition. He then raised his hand and gestured towards V in a manner that implied that he was waiting for him to speak, until he disregarded that notion by speaking himself. 

"Scolopendra, eradicate."

Without warning, a colossal serpentine demonic creature surged forward from over the corner of the building behind the summoner, taking both Sirrus and V by surprise. It seemed that it had been lying and waiting this entire time, quietly waiting for its master to call upon it. It charged them, jetting forward and a speed so rapid that they were both nearly unable to respond. Sirrus jumped to one side in an effort to get out of the way, clearing a considerable distance in the process and unknowingly opening up a mass of window for the serpentine demon to use to attack its true target.

It bolted towards V with lightning speeds, jetting past Griffon and running straight into Shadow's harpoon attack. The demon snarled as it was hit in the mouth and down the throat, but redirected at the last moment, coiling around the panther and uprooting it like a tree from the ground before checking it to the side. It then headed for V, mouth open and ready to swallow him whole. The young white-haired summoner managed to block its oncoming attack with his cane, but lost his footing in the effort to do so, stumbling backward and nearly falling off the building, something he did in earnest a moment later when the serpentine devil snatched him off his feet and quite literally through him from the roof of the building. He cried out before disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Griffon screeched in shock before bolting over the edge of the building after him, dodging the serpentine devil as he did so. Sirrus embedded his now drawn blade into the side of the devil, cutting it from its upper body straight down into its tail with a force powerful enough to keep him rooted in the spot despite the speed in which the creature was moving. He held his stance as he allowed the creature to use its own momentum to eviscerate itself, earning him an agonized screech from the demon as it tumbled off the side of the road and hit the pavement below, shattering the ground beneath it and setting off the alarms of several nearby cars as his body crushed several of them. He then glanced over momentarily to see what had become a V, hoping with everything in him that his split-second decision to stop the devil from going after him had not cost his young companion his life. From what he could see, Griffin had hit the mark and had managed to at least slow V's tumble to the ground. It seemed that the summoner and his serpentine familiar were not on the same page in regards to the condition that their target needed to be delivered in.

Taking what he perceived to be an opening to attack, the summoner rushed forward, gaining a new vantage point in order to see what had become a V himself. But in the process, he waved his hand and another devil came forward, this one clearly more humanoid and considerably less serpentine. It was the devil that V and the others had fought against in the train terminal, and as such, much like the demon that Sirrus had just sent crashing off the side of the building, this one was unfamiliar to him.

"Hatred… " the robed man said nothing further, his summon seemingly understanding the implications of its master's silence. The demon left forward, It's safe in hand, and it was meant head-on by the adjudicator's blade. He pirouetted around the demon, slashing and blocking in turn with it as it attempted to gain the upper hand. He carried the dance of battle toe-to-toe with his opponent, hyper-focused on not being taken off guard. He needed to finish this quickly and go see what had become of his friend. V could be gravy injured and in need of his help. This demon was simply an obstacle in his path, powerful, but nothing special compared to what any of them had fought previously. It was simply its complete unfamiliarity to him that gave it any sort of advantage. And its extreme speed didn't exactly detract from this advantage.

Seemingly surprised by this, the enemy summoner drew his own staff and seemed to consider joining his summon for a moment before thinking better of it. There was no way that he would be able to keep up with them, not with the condition his leg was in. He'd only done so in the train terminal because V had been taken by surprise and thus was able to be singled out and drawn away from his own group. He would let his summon take care of this. It would not be long before he would be able to recover his first summon and do battle against him again on more even terms.

(-~-)

Back down on the ground, V was collecting himself, painfully aware of the fact that he had probably just twisted his ankle to some extent. Still, that did not stop him from managing to clamber to his feet, unwilling to allow Sirrus to do battle against their opponent alone.

"... Thank you. If you hadn't been there..." V said somewhat shakily, more than a little displeased with the fact that he had just fallen off of a 20-story building. I had Griffin knock them there for him, he would be nothing more than a smear on the pavement right now. Or, knowing his incredibly bad luck, he would probably still be alive and just in excruciating pain, awaiting the sweet embrace of death.

"Don't sweat it, V. But I think we might actually have bigger problems right now," Griffon said as he looked up and away from his master, something slightly behind him catching his attention. But the avian demon seemed slightly apprehensive.

"Yes, you're right about that. Shadow has not regenerated yet, and my distance from her is not helping things. I must get back to the building and retrieve her so that we can assist Sirrus. And hopefully this time I won't get thrown off of the building by a giant serpent."

"Actually, that's not what I was talking about," Griffon said with a slight shuddering nervous laugh added to his tone involuntarily. V took notice of this and slowly turned his head, catching sight of something that he was not pleased to see by any measure. It seemed that Scolopendra had regained its senses, and even with what seemed to be a massive wound, it wasn't entirely out of the fight just yet. This was going to be a problem. A big problem.

(-~-)

Striking a blow against his opponent, Sirrus managed to finally injure the demon that he had been doing battle against, the creature seemingly unaware that it had left a temporary opening when it swung its scythe, he ducked underneath its swing and came up behind it, cutting it up the back as he went. The demon howled but did not relent, jumping to the side and retaliating in the form of a holy unexpected downward swing that managed to catch Sirrus in his side, drawing blood. He stumbled but managed to collect himself and turn back to face his opponent. As it came at him a final time. He sidestepped it, assuming that it might expect him to duck underneath it again before stabbing it through his side and eviscerating it, allowing its black blood to spill across the roof of the building. It's snarled and toppled over, seemingly panting before hitting the ground and dissipating. Its essence disappearing along with its body.

Leaning over slightly to try and regain his composure as a result of his injury, the red-haired adjudicator was clearly uncomfortable, but far from out of the fight just yet. It was going to take more than a cut to his side to take him out. No, this ended here and now. But as he turned to face his opponent, he was unpleasantly surprised to find a secondary blade bearing down on him, this one hitting a much more important mark. The blade managed to embed itself in his rib cage on the left side just below what would have been a fatal blow. Or at least for a normal mortal. Sirrus knew that a blade of this make would be insufficient to carry out the task that its owner had in mind, and this was something that seemed to take the other summoner by surprise.

The summoner took several steps backward before being knocked nearly across the roof, his head hitting the back of some sort of air conditioning unit. They scrambled to their feet, readying their staff as Sirrus board down on them, a less than pleased look on his face and an almost feral darkness in his eyes. The aura of the entire rooftop changed in an instant, a sort of sinking darkness overtaking it that made the air heavy. The summoner knew instantaneously that they had made a grave mistake as Sirrus reached down and pulled the blade from his chest, discarding it on the ground across from them with an uncomfortable wince. He then craned his neck to look at the summoner, an eerie glow encapsulating him. The summoner seemed to note the change in atmosphere, readying themselves for a counterattack before involuntarily allowing their arms to slouch slightly, invisible disbelief as to what they were suddenly beholding evident in all aspects of their posture.

"You're a… impossible. They no longer-" The statement was shaky as was the evidence to its validity as they witnessed something they had not expected to see. Certainly his eyes deceived him. This could not be… 

"Exist? Then clearly your eyes deceive you. Or perhaps not. I would not bet my life on that assumption. For our eyes may deceive us, but our rational mind knows the truth, and what you believe to be true just might actually be the case. Though you had best hope that not to be true. For your sake, that is." The overtly threatening tone of that statement was enough in of itself to weaken the resolve of the other summoner, but they held fast and continued to prepare themself. They had no way of countering an attack that they couldn't predict, so until Sirrus struck, they had no idea what they were up against. "I did not live this long to be filled by you."

No verbal response to such a statement existed. The robed summoner wondered for a moment how few of his kind could even recognize what this red-haired man truly was; what terrible power came with that. The potential for destruction he possessed. Instead, they considered their other options, what few they had. They all seemed ineffective as a form of combat in the face of such an imbalanced power dynamic. But perhaps they could escape. After all, the red-haired adjudicator was not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve. And one way or another, they would have to accomplish what they have set out to do today. There was getting around that. And they needed to be alive to do it. 

But Sirrus paid little heed to what they could be considering, completely and utterly ready to remove all traces of them from the face of the Earth. They had just tried to kill both of them. It was only fair that he returned the favor.

Sirrus closed his eyes for a moment and moved his hand to his holstered blade, allowing his hand to rest on his hilt. His body erupted into supernatural heat, enveloped in a torrent of black flame, but not burning. His hair blew around him, brightening with an almost supernatural red glow as though it had been infused with neon. He then opened them to reveal the same darkness that had been in them a mere handful of nights ago on the balcony of V's home, but accompanied by a level of malice and destructive potential that had not been present then. This was the manifestation of the potential that that darkness held, and he would make its terrible power known. It had been a terrible mistake for this summer to start this fight under the moonlight.

"The next time you do battle against me, don't make the mistake of doing it in my element. But I have a feeling that after this, there won't be a next time."

And then he struck.

(-~-)

Something tells me this guy is about eight different types of screwed right now, and that V has his work cut out for him fighting that giant serpent. But hey, at least Vergil isn't in town to know about it lol! I hope you're enjoying these longer chapters that are resulting from me being able to use the voice-to-speech function on my phone. I'm getting almost twice as much done in the same amount of time, so that translates to much longer chapters for you guys! It's a win-win, and I had a blast writing this one. Well, speaking it technically, but you know what I mean. See you next Wednesday and I hope to see you in the comments! Have a lovely weekend! 

“ You’re doing your best. That’s what matters. ” Was the soft and gentle smile, delicate touch cupping and caressing the man's features in a loving tender manner. The shapeshifter placing a warm kiss against the pyromancer's brow.

More Questions/Comments to be sent anonymously! || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || The love Scorpion encompasses even as the undead wraith would ascend the exquisite solemnity of the living Hanzo Hasashi’s; and miracle, the reopened sky makes him seeing them. All the blueness, splendor of radiant sunshine, clouds, and quenching rain. Even tenebrous and moribund dark, as the murky snarl of his emotions which used to sleep deep inside of him surfaces through the sheer intensity of his penetrative gaze. Hanzo Hasashi as a mortal, living the life of the Chosen One, with blessed or cursed bloodline to be assigned as the Protector of Earthrealm perhaps had been a performance; an illusion swirling dizzily through his body in a dazzling splendor of light, if only for a fleeting moment, as the heat of the battle proved to be disadvantageous. For he wore chaos of everything good and rotten that comes from retaining such a flawed human heart; raw, visceral, and unapologetic, which would have spilled the throes of his guilt, despair, and vengeance. 

In the most twisted logic of all time that even defies the concept of his age; for Scorpion remains to be slightly past the prime of his life, but with steeled broadness of his stature and etched lines of sagacity and agony, with extraordinary brawl and grace of a ferocious warrior with the complexity of his heart and soul. So much of Scorpion’s life is dedicated in painting the hellish paradise; the past splendor of Shirai Ryu could never be exactly replicated, but still, the magnificence of its tight-knitted community full of dedicated, defiant survivors with certain twinkle in their eyes had been less difficult than in order to equip them with the hearts of philosopher-warriors. And accompanying loneliness would perpetuate, as would the melancholic sadness, settling in like an obfuscating fog. Perhaps his secluded loneliness has made him selfish, despite never being alone. 

Even when he is going through the motion of life like he is walking in a makeshift graveyard, despite the painted reality of picturesque, resplendent Compound that overlooks the great expanse of land below registering behind his supernatural eyes, Scorpion would hear incoherent whispers; trying desperately to reach out and stop him, but he would walk right through them. They are fabricated ghosts in his mind; he may have seen their shadows in his nightmares out of the corner of his eyes, but they are meant to be nonexistent in the reality of Scorpion’s revivified picture. 

Happiness is that fleeting thing; coming and going like the swaying lanterns of the night. It is warm and bright, but to Scorpion, it rarely feels real. The second he is in the dark between the two lanterns, he begins to doubt if it was ever there in the first place. In the throes of his deepest contemplation, stuck in-between the two worlds as such vicious cycle further erodes the distinction between what is real and what is not. “Does it though?” Scorpion deflects, as further pensive wistful sadness takes over his countenance. Perhaps the shapeshifter’s affection too, was undeserving, as the swallowing hurt erodes his being in sempiternal grievance. “I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists; one where my heart is full, my body loved, and my soul understood.” Perhaps he was complicating it too much, but Scorpion knows now that even his dreams and realities could become nightmares if the maelstrom of his mind creates irreversible madness. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || 

Of all the types of Mancers that exist, there are some more obvious and commonly known then others. When you speak of Mancer Syndrome, hardly anyone will think of Venomancers and Psychomancers. The common folk tend to lean towards the blatantly obvious when it comes to magic, like fire balls, lightening bolts and "black magic." Thus, Pyromancers and Cryomancers are often thought about, because if you can wield the power of magic, why wouldn't you spit fire and summon ice? The biggest one, though, is the one that is the most notorious of them all, and probably the first to sour the Mancer name: Necromancers. What can even be written on this detestable field that hasn't been said a thousand times? Necromancers are those who delve into the art of resurrection and reanimation, those who toe the line between life and death. This field doesn't just stick with bringing corpses back to life, it also involves altering dead flesh, contacting spirits, and wielding the power of decay. Any kind of magic that uses a corpse or lifeless parts as a canvas is one that dabbles with necromancy. Some may question the practical uses of such an art, as what can it be used for in day-to-day life? Lots of magics find ways to help their fellow man and ease their burden. Necromancy is honestly not one of them. Of course there are those out there that say that there are many practical uses for such an art, but these claims are rubbish. "You can use it to contact dead loved ones and get closure," some may say, but plenty of people out there figure out how to move on after someone close to them bites it. Trying to contact someone from the dead is also a good recipe to accidentally bring forth a more malicious entity, or give your grieving customer some weird obsession. "We can bring fallen warriors back to life so that they can continue to fight for our righteous cause!" is another that should honestly tip you off that something bad is going down. Yes, it could help in winning battles and wars, but for who? At least enlisting normal people requires you to convince them to join your side, but having an army of mindless zombies makes people wonder about your morals. Also, if you do win the war, then what? What do you do with all these undead soldiers? Toss them back in their graves? Most of the time, the answer is "keep them around just in case" which translates to "use them to chop up dissenters and keep the masses in line." And if it isn't about the soon-to-be dictator, it is about the families who see their loved ones stumbling about and rotting. Most of the times it causes a bit of distress, but in some cases, people try to act like these empty husks are the real deal and then things get weird. Another reason I have heard is that necromancy "teaches you about the dying part so that we can use it to stop the dying thing." I have only heard that once at a drunken dinner party and I refuse to let them live that one down. 

Just like any other magic user, necromancers are under constant threat of mana poisoning. All this corpse-raising draws mana from the Splenius magus, and using such magic has effects on your body. There is some debate, however, of what causes the initial infections. Some think a necrotic element is slowly introduced to body whenever a spell is cast, just like other Mancers. Others say that the art of necromancy uses bits of your own life force as fuel, which is what degrades your body and mind. If this second theory was true, it would add some interesting implications to the field. Since most mana poisoning occurs when people overuse certain magic directly from their own flesh, the sickness can be prevented by using outside sources and cleansing your body. If necromancy does indeed feed off life force, then these normal preventative practices wouldn't work. With no current idea how to circumvent this, it would mean that every person who delves into the art of necromancy would be doomed to become a full on Mancer. This idea is what supporters of this theory point to, as many necromancers spiral out of control once they start bringing people back from the dead. It is a tempting piece of evidence, but I don't think it holds up. Many practitioners of this art do indeed go out of control, but I think that has to do with the mental issues that arise when one resurrects dead loved ones and believe they can conquer death. Gaining a god complex is practically a side effect of necromancy. When one starts delving deeper and deeper into this art and they fail to properly protect themselves, the toll will become obvious. Their own bodies will take on the likeness of the death they seek to avoid. Their skin will turn pale, and their hair will begin to fall out. For some, their flesh sags as if it is melting off their bones, while others shrivel like dried sponges. Health issues will arise, as the necrotic energy starts to eat away at their own bodies. At this point, they should stop and seek professional help, but who ever listens to sanity and logic? What typically happens is the weakened victim tries to use their magic on themselves, hoping that it can save them. If it can bring dead flesh back to life, then surely it can overcome a nasty cough and emaciated limbs? When they partake in this bit of self help, they will find that their magic works! Their bodies will be morphed back to normal and their health will be intact, at least it seems to be. What is really happening is that they are doubling down on this insanity. Besides the normal dose of mana poisoning one would get from frequent spell use, you are now pumping your veins with the magic to help keep yourself together. This just escalates things, causing the deterioration to happen faster and faster. Soon appendages will atrophy and bits of your flesh will begin to rot off. At this point, recovery is incredibly rare. Even if you were to stop performing necromancy entirely and ran straight to the nearest doctor, your poisoned body would soon give into infection and whatever lovely diseases you've contracted. It is usually here when people snap, as they watch their form fall to pieces. To fix this issue, they will turn to stitching their lost parts back on or finding suitable replacements from fellow neighbors. As they consume their fellow man and desperately try to keep their rotting body in one piece, the Mancer Syndrome will reach its final stage and a true Necromancer will be born.   What emerges from this transformation is repulsive and barely human. Their decaying flesh will have required them to come up with insane ideas on how to keep themselves alive and intact (well, mostly). They may mutate their own bodies, take pieces from other people or creatures, or find some other vessel to dump their rotted souls in. Whatever they do, it will most likely result in some festering pile of deformed meat that somehow still thinks this is all okay. When a victim succumbs fully to Mancer Syndrome, their minds tend to be lost during the journey. Some Necromancers may come out bestial and mindless, driven by a desire to survive and "reproduce." Reproduction, to them, means raising more corpses and creating more undead beasts. Funny enough, a feral Necromancer is the optimal result to come from the transformation. These creatures are ruled by instinct and obsession, so they are easy to predict and manipulate. Them being mindless also puts aside the whole "but they're still a person" objections that some fools may spout. A jabbering undead beast is easy to rally the people against, and many of these monstrosities are not smart enough to handle this pressure. Tempt them with a nice full cemetery and they will dive face first into any trap you lay. The real issue that comes from full blown Necromancers is when these abominations come out with some of their faculties intact. Like certain other Mancers, there is a chance for the mind to survive the transformation. When this happens, things get real bad. Now able to think and plan, these Necromancers will not be so easily fooled or trapped. They will think that they have ascended to some higher form, and thus they must continue their mission. Often this mission is the same old "kill the living, raise the dead" sort of thing. They will seek to gain power and followers, which often means they need corpses. Lots of them. Ever wonder why some cemeteries and tombs are so expensive to get into? That is because they are heavily guarded and certain folk will pay out the nose to ensure their dead stay right where they are. Necromancers of any sort become scavengers, eagerly scouring the land for corpses to use for their mission. Some may reanimate them into personal soldiers, while others may add this meat to their own form. Regardless of their end goal, Necromancers will go after any source of dead meat, and when that source dries up, they go after the living. Unlike some Mancers who may vanish into the wilderness, away from man and his cities, Necromancers tend to throw themselves directly into populated areas. This makes dispatching them crucial, no matter how sapient they are. The last thing you want is for a town to get hit by a plague and then have a horde of Necromancers come rushing in for the buffet. With undead beasts at their side and a whole array of horrible powers, Necromancers can be quite the headache. They are one of the few Mancers you will deal with that will have allies, so it is best to have numbers of your own. Eliminating their own zombies and warriors is crucial, as that is their main weapon. Taking them out will allow you and your fellow fighters to focus entirely on the Necromancer, giving you the advantage. It is also good to take out these minions because, despite popular belief, these nasty things don't die when their Necromancer is defeated. No idea why this thought has become so ingrained in people, but it isn't that simple. They may lose coordination and guidance, but they won't just drop to the ground once you lop their master's head off. On that note, beheading and stabbing aren't always a surefire way to kill a Necromancer. Due to their reanimating magic and monstrous form, they tend to survive injuries that would kill a normal person. Honestly, if you are looking at a person who is using their own entrails as whips, you should assume that impaling them probably isn't going to do a whole lot of good. So instead, one should aim to reduce any Necromancer to goop. Pulverize them with blunt weapons or fry them with any magic you can, just make sure you keep going until the remains stop moving. Another piece of advice I have is one that should be incredibly obvious, and that is: don't die. If one of your warriors gets killed in the fray, you can be sure that they will be getting back up to bite your throat out. So if you can't guarantee that every one of you will make it out alive, then everyone should be aware that they are going to bash a turned friend's skull in at some point. Either don't hesitate when that happens, or bring people you really don't like to the battle. Since Necromancers are so hated and reviled, you would think they wouldn't show up so often. The magic that births them is banned in many places, and raising a single dead rat will sound off the dinner bell for every angry mob within ten leagues. Killing a Necromancer is a sure fire way for people to like you, so any adventurer or slayer will be eager to bag one. Despite this, these nasty things keep popping up, and some never get put down in the first place. Turns out many people are terrified of death, and will do anything to stop it from taking them or a loved one. It is not so bad when a common mage falls for this trap, because you can get your troops together and beat them to a bloody pulp. The issues occur when a king or some high up noble decides that they aren't ready to let go, so they get themselves a Necromancer to get the job done. In this case, the abomination will be protected by these wealthy idiots who will do anything to keep their delusions alive. I have seen knights and entire legions being sent forth for the sake of some rotted meat bag, as their desperate court of fools refuse to accept loss. Five different groups of adventurers butchered and she didn't have to lift a freaking finger. I am pretty sure she is just mocking me at this point, because why else would she keep sending me an invitation to these stupid cotillions? I am not coming over to kill you for the same reasons you aren't coming over here to kill me. Lets keep throwing chess pieces at each other and not get cheeky with it, okay?   While some would say that Necromancers are the most dangerous Mancer there is, I would say that is absolutely untrue. Yes, the whole reanimating the dead and warping flesh thing is terrible, but it is something that many know how to combat. Show me a warrior who doesn't know how to fight the undead, and I will show you a fool that is holding a pointy stick. Ever since the dawn of this art, people have been adamant in stopping it, so there are plenty of ways to deal with them. Things like Ferromancers and Biomancers, however, are mind-boggling abominations that wield impossible powers and possess a frustrating resilience. So are Necromancers the most dangerous? No. Are they the most notorious? Yes, pretty much every person who has heard about magic would know about necromancy. And with most religions not taking too kindly to such a practice, they make it known to every person that will listen. The other thing that Necromancers are champs at is being the most insufferable magic users to ever exist. Whether they have turned or not, they just cannot shut up about their art and their desires to "conquer death." The sheer amount of drama they have to add to everything is extremely grating, and it seems like the art of necromancy requires one to take up theater at some point in their lives. "We are rebels against the tyrant, Death" and "The black veil of the void shall be pulled back for humanity to truly see" is just some of the insane drivel these bloated pus bags will come up with. They just act so high and mighty despite the fact that their appendages are falling off. I honestly don't hate Necromancers for raising the dead, I couldn't care less about what you do with a corpse. It is the fact that they turn the public against all magic users and then never shut up about the struggles of the soul and flesh that makes me want to vaporize every last one of them. Cavarious Shaid -------------------------------------- Yeah, I say that it is the most recognizable and commonly known Mancer, but I completely forgot about making an entry for them til now. It is only because DeltaX9 pointed out this glaring gap that I finally drew something up. Was so busy trying to get crazy and creative, that I completely missed one the most obvious one! So here it is and that is one less hole in my gallery!

Grand Design (Final Rose x GOT)

This goes with The Prince and the Rose.

X     X     X

Ned Stark read through his daughter’s proposal carefully. For a girl of only eleven years, her writing was impeccable. However, it was her logic that impressed him the most. She had always been cleverer than any girl her age had a right to be, but she also tempered that intelligence with practicality. She was not given to losing herself in flights of fancy. Instead, she was ruthless in applying her intellect in service to their family and the North.

Her proposal was no different.

It laid out in clear terms how she had studied everything she could about the great, productive mines of the Seven Kingdoms. She had paid particular attention to the environment and surroundings of those mines in a bid to identify patterns, and she had succeeded. If her reasoning was correct - and she’d yet to be wrong about something this important - then she had identified a method to find potentially productive mines through examining their surroundings.

Moreover, she had used her newly developed technique to identify dozens of potentially fruitful locations throughout the North. Iron. Silver. Coal. Copper. Gold. Those were just five of the resources she claimed to have identified. By the gods, if even a quarter of the potential mine sites turned out to be correct…

“You have read this proposal, have you not?” Ned asked Maester Luwin.

The old man nodded gravely. “I have, my lord.”

“And what do you think?”

The maester took a deep breath. “You already know my thoughts on your eldest daughter. She is… brilliant. Had a fellow maester submitted such a proposal, I have no doubt he would be feted throughout the Citadel. For a child to come up with such a thing… truly the gods have blessed her.” He nodded firmly. “I have examined her proposal from every angle, my lord. I see no reason to doubt her method. All that remains now is to test it.”

“Indeed.” Ned took a deep breath. If this worked, then the North would profit most handsomely indeed. “I will send men to the locations she had identified. If the gods are kind, then my daughter’s method will prove accurate and the North will find itself much richer for it.”

X     X     X

Ned called his daughter into his solar. As always, there was a solemn air about her, one that lightened slightly as she sat opposite him. He bit back a smile. His serious daughter never failed to show warmth around her family and friends. “Lyara, I have finally received word from the men I have dispatched. Of the locations you suggest, around a third look to be extremely promising.”

“Only a third?”

She frowned, and Ned chuckled before pulling her into a hug. “Do you truly not understand what this means, my daughter? For generations, the North has been the largest of the Seven Kingdoms, yet we have not been blessed with the wealth of the West or the bounty of the Reach… or so we thought. Indeed, we have often been looked down upon by the South. Yet now…” He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “It will take time for the mines to be set up, but to have gold, silver, copper, iron, and coal in the North is like a dream come true, and the North has you to thank.”

“Everything I do is for our family and the North,” Lyara replied. “It always seemed odd to me that the North should be so big yet have so little in the way of mines. Studying what the mines of the South had in common seemed as good an idea as any.”

“You are full of ideas,” Ned replied. “And all of them seem to work out.” Indeed, he had enjoyed one of those ideas earlier in the morning. Lyara had invented a dish she called ‘pancakes’ along with something she called ‘maple syrup’. Who knew that something so delicious could come from the sap of a tree? He had no doubt it would prove popular throughout the rest of the North and even the South. Better still, the trees it came from were found almost exclusively in the North. “It is like you were born knowing things.”

His daughter’s smile had a hint of mischief in it. “Perhaps I was, father.” He brows furrowed. “But do you think you could speak to the kitchen staff? There are a few more things I’d like to try…”

“Of course, Lyara. If they are anywhere near as good as pancakes and maple syrup, I see no reason to stop you.”

X     X     X

The first inkling that Edward Baratheon - who had once been Diana Yun-Farron - ad that someone from his old life had made it to Westeros as well was when Lord Eddard Stark sent a shipment of maple syrup to her father, the king. Now, maple syrup was something new in the Seven Kingdoms. Indeed, Edward had wanted to make it only to be told that maple trees didn’t grow in the south. Along with a good supply of the stuff, Lord Stark had also sent a recipe for pancakes.

“By the gods,” Robert groaned as he shovelled a pancake covered in butter and syrup into his mouth. “Is this what they eat in the North?” He laughed. “Cersi, tell the children we’re headed north.”

The queen chuckled. She was eating in a more refined manner than her husband, but it was clear she was enjoying the food every bit as much. “Robert, we’ll need a better excuse than that to go north. Besides, I’m sure your good friend, Lord Stark, would be happy to provide more of this…” She glanced at Edward meaningfully.

“It’s called maple syrup, mother.”

“Ah, right. I’m sure Lord Stark will be happy to provide more maple syrup.” Cersei ate another slice of pancake. “Although these pancakes are an interesting idea too. I am curious to see how they taste with other things.”

“He said his girl came up with both,” Robert rumbled. “She must be blessed by the gods if she can come ups tin stuff like this.” He stopped eating for a moment and straightened. “He also mentioned they’d found some goodly deposits of gold, silver, copper, iron, and coal in the North as well.”

“Truly?” Cersei raised one eyebrow. “I had thought the North lacked such things.”

“So did I.” Robert lowered his voice and looked sternly at the Kingsguard in the room. It was clear he wished the next words kept secret. “He said his daughter came up with some method to find mines.”

“But… she must only be a girl still. Where would she learn such things?” Cersei wondered.

“Aye,” Robert replied. “But look at our boy here.” He pointed to Edward.

Edward grinned charmingly, giving his father what the powerfully built man had come to call the ‘Lannister smile’. “Me, father?”

“Don’t be daft or overly modest, boy. The maesters tell me you’re a genius, and I’ve talked with your uncle enough to know most of the schemes that company of yours is using to make coin are your idea. You’re a boy still, but you’ve managed to drive the price of steel down by more than half with your new methods, and I’m told that’s only the beginning. Likewise, those potions and liquors you’ve come up with are worth their weight in gold.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m completely hopeless.” Edward grinned toothily, his smile all Baratheon this time. “Although it would be nice if I could borrow some reliable men.”

“Oh?” Robert grinned back. “What are you scheming now, son?”

“I have heard rumours of how silk is produced, credible rumours.”

Cersei stared. “Truly?” The price of silk was exorbitant at the best of times, and as much as she wished to have more of the lovely fabric, it was difficult to procure in large quantities.

“Aye, and I might even be able to start producing it too… if the right men could be found to carry out a mission for me. They’d need to be cunning men, ingenious too, and dependable above all.”

“I’ll look into it,” Robert promised. He’d never been much of a merchant, but his son had done a good job of explaining many of the more boring concepts in ways that were interesting. “Silk, eh? That would definitely help fill our coffers.”

“It certainly would, father.” Edward looked over to where his siblings were enjoying their food. “But enough of that. We should focus on enjoying this fine meal.”

His father laughed and went back to wolfing down his own pancakes. Normally, Edward would have been doing the same, but his attention was elsewhere. After all, he recognised the recipe for the pancakes. It was one he knew himself. In his old life, his parents had used it, and he had lovingly passed it down to his own children as well. Was it a coincidence, or had someone else from Remnant made it to Westeros?

Still, the introduction of maple syrup had reminded him of something he should have done long ago. His efforts until now had all been directed at earning enough coin to fix the parlous state of the royal coffers. Now that he - and the royal family as a whole - was practically swimming in money, he could turn his attention to food, namely, condiments.

Oh, yes, he couldn’t wait to make some proper condiments.

X     X     X

Ser Barristan eyed the ‘laboratory’ as Prince Edward called it with no small amount of wariness. The boy was undoubtedly brilliant, but his enthusiasm occasionally reminded the old knight of the pyromancers that had served the Mad King. Of course, it helped soothe his worries that prince’s efforts were usually devoted to either enriching the royal family or helping the kingdom’s people.

“What are you working on, Your Highness?” he asked.

The prince merged, a tall boy of twelve, with half a dozen men at his heels. Two were maesters, and the other four had been hired by the prince himself as apprentices of a sort. All of them looked at him with something approaching adulation for the knowledge and wisdom that seemed to emerge from him like some kind of gods-given gift.

“As you now, Ser Barristan, contaminated water is one of the single greatest causes of illness amongst the people.”

“Aye,” Barristan said. “That has always been the case, Your Highness. I wish it were not so, but…”

“Well,” the prince said, smirking. “That will no longer be the case!”

“Truly?” Ser Barristan asked. Oh, he had waited so long to serve a worthy king. Robert was doing much better now, but it was the boy before him that he truly believed in. Aye, Edward would be a great king one day, a king who could work wonders for the sake of his people. “How?”

“This.” The prince brought forth a jar of powder. “Although the ingredients are not exactly uncommon, extracting them in the correct purity and concentration was the tricky part. When this powder is added to unclean water, it cleanses it and makes it safe to drink.”

“It is a wonder,” one of the maesters said. “And to think it all came from a theory the young prince had regarding disease…”

“A theory?”

“We can talk about it later,” the prince said. “What matters is that if you add a certain amount of powder to water, then it will be made clean and safe for drinking.”

“But… surely such a thing would be expensive,” Barristan murmured. Certainly, he knew many people who would pay handsomely for it.

“It would have been had I not devoted time to honing the process of making it, and I know I could beggar people who wish to ensure their safety. However, I have no intention of asking too much for it. I am sure a family of even modest means will be able to afford the price I set.”

“That is… noble.”

“Yes, but it is also practical.” The prince grinned. “You see, Ser Barristan, the crown gets much of its income from taxes. We can only tax people if they can work. Sick people cannot work. In a very real sense, making this powder affordable will actually ensure the crown collects more taxes.”

“Ah.” The knight smiled. “A fine reason if someone asks you why you are willing to sell such a potent substance so cheaply.”

“Money is nice, set, but it should not be the only concern,” the prince replied. “Besides, I am to be king one day. What kind of king would I be if I chose to watch them suffer when aiding them was within my power?”

Ser Barristan inclined his head. “It is an honour to serve you, Your Highness.”

X     X     X

Robb Stark would forever the first time that he ever saw Lyara truly angry. Oh, sister could be grumpy, and she did scowl and glare rather more than was normal, but he’d never seen her truly angry before. And he was glad he had not, for the expression on her face, the sheer, murderous fury in her eyes was enough to terrify even him, and he wasn’t even the target of her ire.

The wildling holding Bran froze, his knife still held near the boy’s throat.

“Drop your swords!” he stuttered. “Drop them now!”

Robb and Jon looked at each other. Behind them, bow at the ready, Theon looked unsure of what to do.

“Let me brother go,” Lyara growled - and it was most definitely a growl. “And you and your fellows may live. Don’t and I promise that every single one of you will die today.” The sheer coldness of the words put the snow and ice around them to shame.

When no reply came, Lyara continued. “Bran, do you remember that trick I taught you?”

The boy was trembling with fear, but he managed to nod. Robb smiled faintly. Bran was a Stark, and Starks were not cowards.

“Good. Do it.”

Two things happened very quickly almost at the same time. Bran jerked his gloved hands up, bracing them between his throat and the knife. In the instant the wildling’s attention shifted to Bran, Lyara moved.

There was a flash of movement, and a pair of knives whistled through the air. One buried itself in the eye of the man holding Bran, and the other lodged in the eye of the only archer amongst the wildlings. Even as the men were falling, Lyara rushed forward, sword drawn, and put herself between Bran and the rest of them.

“Bran!” she barked. “Get behind Theon!” Jon, Robb, Theon, attack!”

What happened next was a blur. Robb was glad for his training and for his father and Lyara’s ruthless insistence on drilling him until fighting and proper technique were things he could do on instinct. By the time it ended, all of the wildlings were dead, and he, Jon, Lyara, Theon, and Bran were all still standing.

“Gods…” Robb’s stomach heaved as he realised he’d cut down a pair of men and injured another. Jon looked much as he felt, pale and staggering as he eyed the carnage. Even Theon, always so eager to talk of battle, was swallowing thickly in a bid to master his to mach. From the looks of it, he’d hit three of the wildlings although only two had been killed by his arrows. The third had been hit in the leg. Robb shook his head. Theon was a better archer than that, but, well, this was the first real battle he’d been in. Father always said that fighting for real wasn’t the same as practicing in the training yard. He’d been right, like he always was.

And Lyara…

Jumbled images filtered through his mind. His sister had been like a whirlwind of steel. She’d cut down man after man, and the look on her face now… it was frightening.

Nothing.

She looked as though she felt nothing, as though the men she’d cut down had only been obstacle to remove. It was Bran, he realised. Until they’d threatened him, she’d been perfectly happy to let them go on their way. But the instant they’d threatened him, she’d changed.

It must be the wolf’s blood. HIs father had told him about it once, and he’d said it was fiercest in Lyara out of all of them. Aye, Bran was part of her pack, and the wildlings had been foolish enough to threaten him. Little wonder she’d cut them down so ruthlessly.

"Robb,” Lyara said, and he flinched before settling as warmth returned to her gaze. Yes, this was the sister he’d grown so fond of. Outwardly stern, yet warm and caring all the same. “We need to go. There may be more.” She looked at Bran. “Bran, come here.”

The boy hurried over and all but buried himself in her arms.

“You did well,” Lyara murmured. “Father would be proud, I know it. But you must be strong for a little longer. We won’t be safe until we get back home.”

“Shit…” Theon muttered as some of the tension left his frame. “Shit…”

“Aye,” Jon agreed with a shudder. “Shit.”

Absurdly, Robb found himself laughing. “That about sums it up.” He shook himself. The horses had returned now that it was quieter. “Come on. My sister is right. We’d best ride for home while we can.”

Lyara helped Bran onto one of the horses and then put a hand on his shoulder before nodding firmly to Jon and Theon. “Rob, Jon, Theon… you all did well today. Bran lives because of your actions. Be proud of yourselves.”

X     X     X

Edward sat down beside Joffrey. “You’re scowling brother. What’s on your mind?”

“Why can’t I beat you?” the younger boy grumbled.

“Hmm…” Edward fought the urge to ruffle his brother’s dark hair. In his past life, Averia and often done hat, and there was something amusing about being the older sibling this time around. “First and foremost, you’re younger than me Joff. Oh, that won’t matter much once we’re full grow, but you’ve still got a lot of growing to do. We both do, actually. But your biggest mistake is how you approach the fight.”

“Oh?” Joffrey had their father’s temperament, but his build was more Lannister than Baratheon. 

“Your build is closer to our Uncle Jaime’s, Joff, whereas mine is more like our fathers, which means I’m bigger and stronger.” Joffrey scowled, and Edward patted him on the back and grinned. “Peace, brother. Do you really think size and strength are all that matter? Look at our Uncle Jaime or Ser Barristan. Neither of them are giants, but you’d be hard-pressed to fight a single man in the kingdom who’d want to face them in single combat. Rather than relying so much on meeting strength with strength, you need to leverage your speed and agility. Moreover, I’ve seen you fight other people, Joff. You’re cunning.”

“I suppose...”

“Be confident in yourself. Cunning is a good thing. Ask Ser Barristan, and he’ll tell you the same and that it’ll win you more fights than just being big and strong. When you fight against the other squires and lads, you use your cunning. Against me, you’re too concerned with trying to outmuscle me. That’s not going to work. You’ll need to be quick on your feet and quick with yours wits if you want to beat me, brother.”

Joffrey nodded slowly. “Perhaps…” He shook himself. “How about another bout?”

“By all means. I’m always happy to help.” Edward grinned. “As your future king, it is my solemn duty to help my younger brother in all of his endeavours.”

“Could you not grin like that?” Joffrey grumbled. “It makes you look crazy.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Just more snippets from the lives of Diana/Edward and Averia/Lyara. It won’t be long now before they meet. Of course, they’ll be overjoyed, but you can bet their parents are going to misinterpret things when they seemingly get along instantly.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here. In fact, I’ve just released a new story, Attempted Adventuring. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check it out.