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Kairen crossed the emerald grass of Arilt, his short while in the realm above water already finished. His tiny, un-used lungs had just begun to grow accustomed to actually laboring, expanding and contracting with the intake and outtake of oxygen. His diaphragm was probably the least used muscle in his body, and due to this, it had been strained simply by being in use...it was a weakness in the logical eyes of the mucus-covered merman. Beneath the vicious waves of the world sea on Solas, lived his race of warrior people. Of the 6 realms beneath the crashing waves, the kingdom of Al-Amar was the most feared and warrior-like. His weapons, the hand blades, were their specialty, being wielded by even the lowest fry to the highest Blade Shark. War and battle were not a dreaded event for his people, but rather a part of life. In fact, it was worshipped as the very part of life that was to be enjoyed and prepared for the most.

As the merman slowly wandered towards the towering gate that led to his home, he could not help but think about what would occur upon his return. His exile for the winning of the death duel between his uncle, Moriam Al-Amar, had ended. Five years of no sentient contact within the Shark Crown...one of the more dangerous regions within the borders of Al-amar. It had been hell, those few years having gifted him a number of scares. He had faced the jaws of death a number of times...so many that he had no fear of dying. The eternal slumber given by Death's embrace would be a pleasure to the warrior, entering the Hall of the Depths.

His toughened soles padded along the lawn, not making a sound. He did not look back before placing his own stone, a color that reminded him of the oceans he called home, into the ornate arch-way that marked the portal to Solas. As the path opened, starting as a glimmer of light before blazing into a super-nova of light, his pupils dilated even further, the depths did not require such bright light as existed on the surface world...his eyes had compensated and restricted the amount let in. Of course, the pupils were almost microscopic at this point. Kairen's legs moved him into the transporting light, his body on Arilt vanishing as he passed through.

With passing through the gate, came the sensation of eternal bliss, as if one had entered the Hall before his glorious depth at the hands of his foe. However, Kairen had passed through this gate and knew that it was not the eternal happyness he yearned for as a warrior. The sensation he felt could be likened with how he had imagined returning to Al-amar...of course, that would be in a few days. Suddenly, the feeling stopped and he apppeared on the rocky island that towered above the depths; his hands deftly catching the falling stone. Once more, the magical orb was placed on his silver circlet, seeming to have a dot of light within it.

Kairen, normally wearing the stern mask of a killer and fighter, broke into a smile. He could not contain himself as he looked across the sea-scape of his world. The sun, just now making its way to the height of its journey, caused the waters to sparkle as if they too were happy. Massive waves crashed against the rocky island, making slow progress on erroding the rock; however, this mountain was a volcano and would not be forced to tumble into the sea. Standing atop the cliff, Kairen Al-amar overlooked the choppy surface of Solas; the terbulant mask hiding the calm and peace that lay beneath the waves. With a spring in his step, he began his way towards the edge, slowly picking up speed until he was sprinting. His lean legs carried him faster than most of his world could run...and that was saying something.

With a leap, his body catapulted off of the edge, the man not caring how high up he was. Despite the considerable drop, the merman yelled in glee, like a child who was being tossed into the sky. His arms spread wide as he began a series of flips, eventually sliding into the sea without a sound or splash. The cold water felt great, like an embrace from a parent; of course, Kairen had never truelly had a parent. His uncle was the closest thing, but the 20 year old had decapitated his head with his bare hands. It was odd that such weaklings controlled the six, mer-folk realms. It was a disgrace to their own ability. The only powerful being in a high role was the Sea-Emperor of Al-amar, the so called Serpent of Al-amar. Tridentius Al-amar was the person Kairen would be forced to get knowledge from.

His form slid through the waves, as fast as a shark if not faster. The Crystal City of Tridentius, named after its long lived king, was a long swim away. His thoughts wandered to the reception he would get...tomorrow was the day that he was expected home.

=Unknown Location=

Claudius, flanked by his guards on either side, was waiting in this dank, small room in a ship's hold, poised just above the South Seas Patch, a massive vortex of kelp where some of the shadier elements of Solas were rumored to preside. The rooms smelled of salt air and dampened wood, and there was a portal in the bottom, leading directly to sea below, and hung roughly a foot above the water.

He was here to talk with Magi Suran Mar-Sani, a Merman King who had special interests with Claudius and his promises of power and rulership of this world once he was done with it. The King was a man who was easily blinded by the promise of power, the perfect kind of person to help with his crusade of this world for the Glory of Gorthax.

The ship gave unnerving creaks as it rocked, the fearsome winds almost managing to know it over, but not quite. The weather in this place was notorious for sinking anything that floated, even a simple chuck of wood would soon become tangled in the kelp and pushed down by the unrelenting winds. This would not have been a problem for some of the larger boats in the fleet, but stealth was required for this mission, and stealth was something those boats did not provide.

Then, the water under the hatch seemed to coalesce into the shape of a strange translucent being. Claudius jumped against the wall, taken aback by this seemingly new development. He managed to regain his composure, and said "Who are you, and what are you!"

His guards now had their halberds pointed at the creature, which apart from it's initial formation, seemed to be standing still, only swaying eerily with the waves as it stood there, occasionally slashing against the sides of the portal. Their adamantine tips, which were usually shining bright and catching the light of the sun in a glorious blaze, were nothing more than a dark teal in this low-light environment.

The creature, sensing that it was best to display no acts of agression or anything that could be taken as one, slowly raised it's hands into the air. It said it's reply a strange voice, something smooth and beautiful, but not human at all. "Suran Mar-Sani has sent me as his representative."

Claudius eased at once upon hearing this. His muscles became less tense, and his hand slowly moved away from the Magic Dagger held on his belt. It was time to get to work.

He ordered the guards to leave the room, and the two parties began their negotiations.

The meal was vey satisfying, not only because of the nourishment that it provided, but also because of the new experience. Rabe seemed to approve of the new method of eating, if it was from amusement or pride he would never know. They almost had fallen asleep again after eating their fill, but had summoned the will power to move on instead of lay about lounging for another hour or so. Rabe seemed more open for discussion answering more thoughtfully, rather than giving a simple yes or no answer.

During the banter he had learned that she not only enjoyed stalking prey, but also going on long hikes up the nearby mountains; even though this normally ended in stalking prey anyhow. She already seemed to know a lot about him, but still listened intently just as he had done for her. The grass soon cleared, and with it the savanna like region were it had grown. The night was still young, but the waning moon was steadily making its trip across the sky.

The two made their way across the vast expanse of nothingness, making small comments along the way as they ran out of topics to discuss. Neither knew how far the waterfall was from their current location, but they soon grew expectant as a large forest sprouted into view. It wasn’t as lush as the jungle, the one near the town, but its tree’s seemed healthy and vibrant. Earro inside winced in anticipation at the flood feelings and voices the new region would carry; Rabe seemed to notice, and nudged him gently trying to reassure him. Walking into the forest at night, it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the filtered lighting.

The forest was much thicker than they had anticipated, only a few rays of moonlight sprinkling to the forest floor. The noise in his head wasn’t as loud as he expected either, maybe it was because he had heard it from afar and had slowly adjusted as he came nearer. Moving slowly through the dead leaves, he made sure not to stumble haphazardly into any low hanging braches or treacherous roots. Rabe quietly padded along behind him, sometimes inhaling sharply as if to speak.

The forest seemed to have no light or emanating from anywhere except from above. There were no twinkles of lights ahead giving signs of an end to the primarily dark path, neither were there any insects such as fireflies present to lend their soft glow to the engulfing darkness. Rabe moved to take the lead, reaching out a paw as if to swipe the darkness away. “I don’t like this, we should stop and wait for morning” She seemed to be anxious and a bit on edge, neither being her usual temperament. “I don’t like it either, but I don’t think I like the idea of staying here longer than we need too “moving to her side and crouching down he rubbed between her ears. “But I think your right, this place is way too dangerous to cross threw without more light”

Moving a little past her, he found a tree nearby and sat down, placing his back against the tree and stretching out his legs. Rabe looked intensely at what would have been the night sky had there been fewer trees, and then moved over to the tree he had sat down at. Putting her front legs over his out stretched legs she crossed hers and laid her head down. She laid there, staring unblinkingly into the night, her ears twitching as she pivoted them around at different angles listening to the dead silence.

Earro sat contemplating why she was so on edge; he didn’t have her keen sense of danger. Retiring to the recesses of his mind he, gave up trying to figure out what was wrong. He tried searching for the trees feeling, the one that was behind him. Concentrating he peeled away all the stronger feelings, finally finding what he had been searching for. The tree was old; it also had a very distinct feel of knowledge. He probed deeper, losing himself as he dug into the trees being.

The tree had no names, no species, just adjectives. The tree had a very vivid a defined way of expressing its self, and as he waited he could discern more and more of them. Snapping out of his almost out of body experience he looked around, temporally forgetting where he was. Feeling Rabe stir on his legs as she shifted positions so she could see him better, he looked down pondering what the tree had given him. “What are you thinking about” her ears still alert even though she had averted her eyes to look at him rather than the creeping darkness.

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just listening to this tree.” His eyes were sort of unfocused, not really paying attention to her as such as he usually did. “What did it say” her interest seeming to be peaked more by this news than the previous one with the seed. “It was strange, usually I get a name or at least some kind of indication of what type of plant it is, but this tree just gives out descriptions. I checked the other trees to, and they seem to do the same thing.” Rabe’s eyes narrowed slightly, a look of annoyance crossing her features at his uninformative answer. “What did they say” her words punctuated with a slight growl; not nearly loud enough to be threatening, but still audible. “Well I can’t give you a exact word, I guess you could say old, wise, a little dark…but nothing really sinister just dark.” In a flash Rabe was on her feet, her eyes glinting dangerously as she pushed Earro onto his feet with her muzzle.

Stumbling to his feet he looked questioningly at Rabe as she started off at a slow pace, realizing that she wasn’t stopping he caught up and matched her quickening pace. Her jaws were clamped in a resolute frown of worry, he tried to ask what was going on, but found she quickened each time he inhaled to take speak. Following her in silence for what seemed like almost an hour, he finally glimpsed a wink of light ahead. Rabe increased her speed to a fast jog, her paws creating a light drum role as she ran toward the light. Keeping up was much easier said than done, her strong four legs propelling her forward with easy, as he lengthened his stride to try and adjust to the increased pace. They broke through the tree line, a bright wash of sunlight breaking across them. Obviously this is what she was trying to reach, she gallop finally ceasing to her normal stride. She seemed to be out of breath to, but not from exertion.

Something had been worrying her the whole time in there, and had finally gotten to her when he told her about what he felt. The light was dazzling, especially after being submersed in darkness for so long. Finally reaching her, Earro put his hand on her shoulder getting a shudder similar to what he had gotten last time she was stressed. “What was with you back there” taking his hand away; the slick sweat creating an imprint of it. Keeping her head straight she kept walking as if he was talking to someone besides her. The silence continued for almost a mile and a half before she finally acknowledged him, “Didn’t you think it was odd that we couldn’t see the sun through the canopy, even though it was almost midday when we finally ran out of that god forsaken forest”. The question was sort of one sided, but was completely true considering that it still appeared night in the forest, but was bright day outside of it. “Yeah, but that could just mean that the trees were thicker than we had thought” he was trying to keep an optimistic view on what had happened, but was slowly seeing her point. “Whatever, Just know that were going around when we head back home” with that she ended the conversation, leaving many questions to be answered. “Okay that sounds good to me”.

The day passed on quietly, neither having anything to talk about. The night’s event had both deep in thought trying to figure out what had happened. The sun was hovering above the horizon when they felt the hot sand on their feet. Looking out they saw hill of sand, with few plants or animals anywhere. The sand wasn’t unbearable, but was still uncomfortable. Rabe’s large paws prevented her from sinking into the fine sand, but Earro’s sank slightly, his effort being doubled as he had to not only pull his feet from the sand, but also keep pace.

Alagera's heart was pounding against her chest. Her back against the dark rock, she sat there, thinking. So the rumors were true. Garthox had returned and darkness was spreading and it looked as though Solas would soon be under Garthox's rule as well. How could he do this to his people? Suran Mar- Sani was aiding Garthox. He was misusing his rule to gain more power.

Alagera was not exactly sure what was happening but she had seen just enough to know that her Kingdom's ruler was siding the wrong side. Pushing away from the rock, Alagera swam deeper towards her Kingdom. She would have to warn her people, they needed to know what her ruler was up to. But she stilled in the waters when she thought of what their reactions would be. None would be believe her. Not even her family would listen. No. She would have to seek out her grandmother and turn to her for advice.

He who should not be rose from the great basalt throne, the swirling miasma of power flared and blazed wickedly casting an eerie multicolored display of lights that scintillated through the throne room. The anguished cries of the elven slaves attached to the gilded chain, rose in darksome alarm.

With a bestial roar the lord of nightmares shook the very pillars of the fell tower that stood as the single accursed symbol of the great Garthox. Tossing the chains to the floor as the hellish winds whipped and careened around him, the glowing eyes of the hell wind golem materialized a moment before being torn away by a fanged grin.

“So the pathetic guardians have come seeking their precious toys! Very well so the hunters become the hunted.” Even as the being known as Garthox spoke, the elves began to cower and crawling away to hide behind the massive throne. Their bloodless faces contorted in lunatic grin mimicking their masters.

With a swiftness that belied the great size of Garthox he scooped the massive blade and stomped forbiddingly down the hall to the vast gates of the tower. The infernal horns gleamed in the murky lights that dwindled and sank in the cheerless gloom. Every step of the massive three-toed feet created a blackened crater where they touched. With a surge of power, the malevolent being known as Garthox stepped through the arched doorway and roared demonically at the world of Flinx.

Even as the sound was emitted along with the fetid breath of the lord of illusions, the world trembled as the dread power washed over it gruesomely. Those fairies that had been closest to the epicenter convulsed and moaned like madden creatures, devoid of any intellect as the torturous fear enveloped them. Above the fiendish Garthox the clouds roared their impatience as the host of nightmare creatures surged and struggled to be loosened upon the world.

With a single bound the nightmarish being had covered a vast chasm, alighting on the far lip, the impact jarred and shook the stone, causing a small avalanche as the great lord of nightmares strode away, the ground curling and flaming where the virulent evil touched.
The guardian and warriors in Flinx could feel in their very soul the brooding, malignant evil, just as the people could feel the sudden and fearsome chill that overcame them. The great sword twirled and flashed, as it did so the wind split and a monstrous thunderclap echoed and carried, lifted by the storm clouds that galloped forward of their master.

The world shuddered and the peoples of Flinx realized that the horrors told to them in the myths of a time long past had returned. The evil that challenged God and almost won had returned, and it was angry.

Fieht finally reached the town near the mountain of the portal. She had gone through this particular town on the way to the portal, and she hadn't liked the way all the people living there had looked at her. Fieht walked silently to the nearest bar, ignoring the suspicous glances that were thrown her way. She entered the bar and walked straight to the barman, she actually trusted him a bit more than the others, because he was actually from her home village...and an old friend of hers. Fieht sat at a stool and caught his attention, he smiled slightly and came over "Well, if it isn't Fieht, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked half jokingly.
Fieht smiled as much as she could, and said "I'm looking for a special ring, any info on it would be most useful..." she motioned for him to come closer and whispered the name of the ring, she didn't want to many people to know what she was looking for. Her friend stood up frowning, a rare sight for him, and said "Aye, that is a very special ring...lets see last I heard the ruler of the town Anozira has that particular ring...that's a three days walk from this shabby town." Fieht frowned, that was far to long, that would mean a six days travel, plus she also needed to get back to the portal. Of course, if she didn't rest at all, she could get there quicker....and even then the ruler might not even have the ring any more.
"Do you know any where where I can borrow a horse from? It would make my journey much quicker." she asked her friend. He thought to himself for a few seconds then nodded, "Aye but it's to buy a horse, not borrow...There's a stable right next to the blacksmith, he sells horses on the side, it be better to actually buy one from him, instead of borrow." Fieht nodded, understanding what he meant and got up "Thanks Adgar, I'll try to stop by on my way back if there is time." Her friend smiled and nodded, knowing that this was most likely the last time he would see her.
Fieht left the bar and walked to the blacksmith, it took some time to bargain with him for a good horse at a cheaper price. In the end she ended up with a pure brown horse[it would look like an Arabian] named Ginger. Once mounted she started off in the direction of Anozira, humming a familiar tune to herself.

A mass of feathers, beaks and claws erupted from the small patch of woods the two had so recently emerged from. Creating a cloud of shrieking and bird calls as soon as they left the shelter of the tree's, the mass of birds created a dark cloud that rose higher into the sky with each second that passed, blocking out the sun for what seemed an age as eyes were cast towards the Heaven's.

Amongst the mass of birds were hundreds upon hundreds of different breeds, and every single one of their minds were filled with a ghastly fear. However, sane thoughts still slipped past the fear, many revolving around the thought of a nest filled with eggs. A few of these flight-filled creatures even turned back, despite their fears, to protect the tiny shells that would one day crack to reveal the offspring that would create the next generation.

At first what had caused the air-born stampede was unknown, but then it made itself known as a penetrating fear chilled the two folk to the bones, filling their very marrows. The fierce anger, closely followed by terror, threatened to overcome all common sense the two had, but that would not be so.

Instead the fear was eventually squashed, as a large eagle swooped down towards the two, its golden eyes flashing valiantly as it switched to a dive, spiraling down towards them.

I just HAD to post something while I was waiting for DarkAndi to reply x.x

As soon as Claudius left, Kiana grabbed the nearest chair and sat down before she passed out. One her slaves rushed forward with a goblet of crimson liquid, something Kiana had brewed and stored earlier in the year. It was perfect for restoring energy, something she would need much of if she was to stay awake. She still had plenty to do, and the captured spirit would prove useful. She reached for her pack, her fingers barely touching the leather. A slave pushed it into her range, and she gripped it, struggling to open it.
"Open it." She hissed, and she was instantly obeyed. The little vial had got mixed in with the others, and Kiana groaned when she didn't instantly see it. She started to carefully take them out, setting the fragile vials side by side. Once she found the smoky bottle with the spirit, she brought it up to her eye, shaking it.
"Hello dear." She said, and whispered a powerful incantation. The spirit was now hers, and she would use it even with it's language limitations. She felt the goblet slip from her grasp, and crash to the library floor. The dead moved from the shadows, replacing the goblet with another full one. She couldn't summon the strength to even turn her head, and found the cool hands of her slaves lifting her head. They poured the contents into her mouth, and she swallowed the spicy liquid. She didn't thank them, she never did.
Slumping in her seat, Kiana felt the potions effects almost immediately. She let it regenerate her, knowing it would be temporary.
“Take me to my throne.” She said, and was obliged. One of her servants carried her and the small vial into the throne room, where the strong creature gently deposited her onto the ebony seat. She uncapped the vial, and let the spirit free. She entered it’s mind, giving it directions. The spirit whimpered, and entered another dimension, where it could carefully observe the Guardians without being detected. Kiana sighed, rubbing her head, which had developed a migraine.
“I’ll do a spell to make it smarter later.” She said to no one in particular, and then dozed away, slumped in her throne.

On a silent hilltop in the world Hisbanl a slow wind blew across the barren landscape and the long dead castle that watched the surrounding lands. In the center of the silent ruins of the long since abandoned structure stood a single arch, strong and defiant in its steadfast purpose. Deep runes were laid upon its weathered surface, dark with age, yet as flawless as the day they were forged in the unbreakable stone. It was from this relic of a long forgotten day that a stirring came. Merely the lightest flicker of movement at first, but then a small form began to shimmer and coalesce in its center. This small shining form, so insignificant compared to the majesty of the remaining statues and structures of a long forgotten age soon began to shift, to change, into something far greater. Stretching across the threshold of the ancient arch the shimmering mass became a portal to world’s unseen, one of the last remaining gifts of a long dormant power from ages past.

Coming forth from this most runic of artifacts was a being of an incomprehensible age and power, yet in itself far younger and more insignificant than the magic from which it was brought forth. This being, this Minion of darkness from ancient times, was once again returning the place he once called his own. To the place where he was born, to the place he lived, to the place he loved, to the place he died. Yet this being, this monster, was nothing like it had once been. For the one that was now called Grim, the Assassin of the One that should not be, had once been young, had once been handsome, had once been as those around him, strong and stalwart in his lifelong purpose, kneeling to no lord or king, yet fighting for the lowliest of peasant.

As this being, this incarnation of power and darkness, took its first steps onto its old home, a sickness seemed to overtake it, as it fell to one knee, as if to pray to some great deity, and clutched its breast as would a dying man. Grunting like a man who had bore many hardships, yet would yield to none, the lone figure returned to its full height, tears welling in its sparkling blue eyes, the last remnants of what had once been, and walked onward, old memories and voices of friends from ages past spiraling in the dark abyss of its mind, and even down to its very soul. For once upon a time this creature had been a man, not the hollow husk of its former self it was now, but just an ordinary man, with friends, and lovers, and a family of his own.

As it slowly walked from the cursed place that brought back so many memories of old the being felt a longing, far stronger than any it had felt before, far stronger than any it’s master, or any other being it had ever met could call to bear; a longing for tranquility, for peace, for a place to call home. It had once had such a place, many ages back, before it’s pact with He who should not be, before the war that brought him to his knees for his people, before any of it, he had had a home, a peaceful place where strife, conflict, and war were merely stories from far off lands. As it’s thoughts once more coalesced into the entity of consciousness the being found itself standing before that one place, that one home.

The millennia had taken their toll on this place that had once been this creature’s home, as all that remained of the once great farmhouse were the stone foundations, weathered, yet left bare of all life, both plant and other, as if some will held the power of nature at bay for all those years gone past. Once upon a time, it had been a place of energy and life, home to an ancient bloodline that now remained solely in the one called Grim. It had once been said this bloodline was cursed, that any that bore it would be damned to a life of strife, bloodshed, and sadness for eternity. For over a thousand years this prophecy had remained true, and those of the cursed bloodline were made kings among man, as no army could stand against them, as if the gods themselves had cursed it to survive the ages, cursed it to carry its misery throughout all time.

Slowly trekking onward towards the barren remains of his former home the lone figure seemed to freeze where he stood, as the ages seemed to draw in on themselves, sending speeding flashes of ages gone past flying through his minds eye; Of soldiers seeking refuge in the scattered ruins, of small creatures living out their lives in the burrows beneath its foundations, of the millennia of rains and storms blowing over the stalwart remains of the once great building. All these things the one called Grim witnessed, all these things flashed by his dark mind in an instant, bringing with them a flood of memories from millennia past, all those he had harmed, all those he had helped, all those he had killed, all those he had saved, all those he had hated, all those he had loved, all of them flashing through his mind’s eye, blinding him in a flood of memories, some left buried in times long forgotten.

Dropping to his knees the lone figure wept, he wept the tears of ages past, pent up by the cold, hard mask he had worn for all those years. He wept for all those he had hurt, and all those he had killed, and all those he had loved, and all those he had lost. The lone figure, so unfailing and stalwart in his strength, his might, his mask, wept, and wept, until he could weep no more, and there was silence, as the lone being, the lone minion, the lone man, drifted off to a sleep, a sleep filled with images of the past, and images of what was to come.

Alagera (Solas- World of Mermaids):

Moving with the strong currents of the sea, Alagera reached the home of her grandmother,
Taarina. Her home was situated far away from the main Kingdom. Set in the edge of a large stone formation, the home stretched up high, providing many rooms for her grandmother to house her herbs and potions. Made of volcanic rock and plants that twined around the strong formation, this was a place Alagera loved staying in. Her body moving in a fluid motion, cutting through the waters with ease, she reached the entrance and called out. "Urail, where are you," she called out to her grandmother using the mermaids language for an elderly. "Urail!"

Her feet touched the cold floor of the watery base and she stepped into the dark room. "Urail!" She shouted, anguish filling her voice as she caught sight of her grandmother lying on the floor, not moving.
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Hugh (Land of Arilt):

It had taken an entire day for him to reach the lake of God. The crystal blue water sparkled and shimmered in the rising sun. Kneeling beside the lake, Hugh pulled out from within his cloak, the small glass bottle. He removed the cap and tilted the bottle. The thick silver liquid poured forth. He allowed only three drops before he closed the azure bottle and placed it back into his coat. As he rose, he watched the lake.

From the point where the liquid had come in contact with the lake, the silver spread out. Like a spiderweb, the sliver edged out to fill up the entire lake. Then, at eight points, the silver liquid rose up high to form long thrones. Hugh looked up at the eight seats, watching as the souls of the High Kings began to appear.

The Battleship TLS Kiana floated uneasilty in the strong currents that enveloped the area. They pushed the ship from it position in the sea, but the Iron Chains connecting the Anchor held strong, straining, but not breaking as the currents pulled against the ship. Onboard, it seemed as if the rocking of the ship would tip it over, with the incline causing things to slide across the decks and fall off shelves. Soon, nothing that couldn't be bolted down was left, and only the things that were remained in one peace. The troops were also effected by this constant rocking, some getting used to it and taking it for granted, while the others, people who got seasick easily, frequently hurled over the sides of the ship, leaving a nasty smell and resin when the ship has leaning opposite of the puke. And finally there was the Captain, who was not really used to sailing, and took things for granted, like a hull seam that was about to break.

Now, on the Depth Charges![/i]

Heave!

Was the constant yell of the Commissar, as he directed the wretched group of troops that Claudius called men. They were pulling up massive charges from the hold of the ship, to be used against the Merman city. The Commissar was looking on as the men gave another heave on the rope, bringing the charge a good five feet up.

Heave!

The Soldiers heaved again, this time bringing the charge above the level of the hold. They started walking to the left, keeping their grips on the rope and bringing the crane holding the charge over the deck. They slowly lowered the charge onto the deck, disconnected it from the rope, and let the rope go.

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Cut to an hour later, and the troops have readied the charges for use against the merman city. They heave the first one over the side of the ship, followed by the next one, and then next, and so on, until the entirety of the Primed charges have been tossed overboard.

These are rather innovative charges, carrying drag fins that would carry them to different locations in the Merman city.

They fall upon the city in succession, and then the first one, landing at the edges of the city, explodes. The sound can be heard through the water as the charge, made of the usual enchanted black powder, blasts away the rock face, and surrounding buildings.

The world was…different now. All that was around Grim, Minion of he who should not be, seemed to shift and whirl, never coalescing into any solid shape, and always seeming to shift just out of reach. As this was the land of dreams, a magical place of both horrors and nightmares, but also of peace and self-discovery. Writhing around as if in the throws of some great and unbearable agony Grim screamed and yelled in rage and frustration. This was not where he wanted to be, not here, this place of eternal torment, this place that bore all that he had left behind, and all that was left of his former self.

As his throws of anger and anguish continued a lone form came forward from the darkness. Shining like a last beacon of hope and peace the angelic figure walked to the threshold of the writhing figure’s reach, a deep sadness staining her perfect features. As his gaze passed over her perfect visage, all clothed in a white of infinite purity, Grim’s anguished features softened, mimicking the sadness she herself bore. A rueful smile broke her lips, sadness still echoing in the rest of her flawless features.

“It’s been a long time.”

His eyes casting downward back into the nothingness Grim’s brow furrowed and a pained expression crossed his hardened features.

“Yes….it has.”

Her face contorting into a look of pity she moved closer, standing face to face with him now, and pushing back the hooded cloak that covered his face, she revealed the darkened features within. From just inches above his left temple to down across his shining blue right eye ran a long scar, cutting deep into his blackened flesh. Yet this grievous wound was nothing compared to the rough blackened flesh from which it had been cut. For even the blackened flesh itself was not left intact, pitted with smaller scars and craters like the face of a moon, scarred from hard won battle of a long dead age. At this terrible sight, enough to strike fear or horror into nearly any man, the look of pity only deepened as tears formed in her deep blue eyes.

“O Alex, what’s happened to you?”

At the sight of her pity a deep sadness came across Grim’s hardened features, his eyes dropping away from her tear stained eyes.

“Life happened…….you…..we knew….we knew it would come, one way or another.”

Breaking into more tears she wraps her arms around him, her tears slowly streaming down onto his dark cloak.

“But not like this, not like this, it has to stop now; or we might never be able to stop it.”

Shaking her off angrily Grim stalks away through the silent and endless realm of darkness.

“You know I can’t do that! I made a pact with Garthox, and there’s no way out of it, my life is his. There’s nothing I can do anymore.”

At this last declaration Grim’s features fell once more.

“There’s nothing I can do. Don’t you understand?”

Her brow furrowing, contorting her beautiful features, the women walks up to him, wrapping her arms around once more and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Yes I understand, and yes there is something you can do…you can let go…let go of the life you have scraped together and you will be given the one you once had….it is the only way to save yourself, and the rest of the worlds. Garthox must be stopped at all costs, or all will be lost.”

With a sigh Grim’s head drops, the resignation of a beaten man, of a man resigned to his cursed fate.

“I can’t…..I’m…I’m just not strong enough to defy him. The only way for me to survive is to stay with him, otherwise I to will die.”

“You have to learn to let go of this life you have, the Guardians will aid you, in time. But first you must let go, there is no other way for you. This life is not your destiny, and now it is time for you to break the bonds that bind you to him, and to this life, and become what you were always meant to be.”

Sighing and avoiding her gaze Grim breaks the embrace and shakes his head, as his mind twists and boils in endless turmoil.

“I…I…damn it all I just can’t….I…I can’t let go…I’m…I’m afraid….I afraid to die….I can’t let go, no matter what my life has become….I just…can’t let go.”

Breaking into a sad smile she looks into his eyes.

“Its ok little brother, I’ll catch you.”

Chuckling lightly Grim looks down at her with loving eyes.

“I’ve missed you Sarah.”

Smiling sadly she smiles back.

“I’ve missed you to Alex.”

With one last fleeting embrace she slowly turns and begins walking off into the distance, her voice slowly echoing in the deepening darkness.

“I love you Alex, trust in me, and trust in yourself, it’s going to be all right.”

With a last sad smile Grim looks after her.

“I trust you Sarah…Goodbye Sis.”

As she slowly disappears into the darkness Grim utters one last farewell as he to is slowly swallowed by the all consuming darkness.

“I love you….”

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In the scattered ruins of his former home Grim finally stirred from his long slumber. The sun was low in the sky, mere minutes from dropping below the horizon to complete the cool night, yet he cared not for the lost time. He now knew what he was to do, what he should do, what he had to do. Whether the fates would grant him passage through these dark times unscathed, or whether he to would die he did not know, yet he did know his path was set, and he would follow it, no matter the cost. His old life had ended, and his new one was soon to begin, yet one last thing had to be done, one last tether to his old life had to be severed before he could return to what he had once been.

With his mind set, and his path clear, Alexander Hyde, formerly Grim, Assassin of Garthox, he who should not be, set out in search of the only one who could shatter the bonds of his pact, the only one that could give him the strength to let go, once, and for all.

Azrael followed Ash in silence, two steps behind and slightly to her right, as a guard would have, keeping in custom with the last time he had set foot on Earth. Contemplating the recent turn of events, he stared ahead, brow drawn in thought, though eyes continually scanning the crowds flowing around them. The people gave them a wide berth, as Azrael still carried his sword at his hip, and carried himself as someone who clearly knew how to use it.

As they climb the steps of the library, Azrael looks upon the old architecture, still new to him, with a bit of admiration. He always admired intelligence and architecture. Entering the library, the musty scent of the millions upon millions of tomes filling his nostrils, he looks about for the section that contained the rolled maps. "Err...I'm not familiar with this library. Perhaps you should lead the way to the correct section."

Ash (Earth):

"This way," she called to him absentmindedly, walking up to the librarian seated behind the counter. "Hi, I would like to check for a book or records of any caves that date back..." Ash paused for a second to think. Dates back to when? Would any book or article here have records of the discovery of the cave they were looking for? She decided to change her question. "I mean is there any article or book of unusual caves that were discovered?' Ash figured since the chains were special, there was bound to be some unusual happenings going on in the area.

The old librarian looked Ash over, her eyes stopping at the sword at her belt. Smiling, Ash gave a reason, "It's a prop. We're in a...play," Ash pointed to both Azrael and herself. Although the old woman did not seem to believe what she was saying, she rose from behind the counter and came out to lead them down to the basement. The library was not so crowded with a few people scattered about. Ash called to Azrael to follow and down they went into the basement where there was only one other person looking through the articles database. Leading them past the computers, the old woman stopped before a shelf of thick books.

"These are reference books so you are not allowed to take them out," she spoke for the first time, her voice quite strong for a woman who looked so frail. Ash nodded her head and waited as the librarian scanned the spines of the books. "Here it is," she pulled out a thick emerald book and passed it to Ash. It was dusty and Ash had to blink several times as the dust entered her eyes. "This contains information of the caves that were discovered. All of it are apparently paranormal related." With that the librarian left, leaving Ash and Azrael to look through the book themselves.

Stepping over to a table, Ash set the heavy book down and flipped open to the first page where there was a compilation of the names of all the caves and a short description of what paranormal activity had taken place there. Sadly, all the pictures in the book were in black and white so it would be slightly difficult for them to find the cave just based on the photos alone. "What kind of strange activities could have happened?" she asked Azrael. The caves were classified in terms of the events that had taken place and Ash was trying to figure out what kind of happenings eight time chains could bring about.
................................................................................................................
Alagera (Solas):

"Urail," Alagera trembled in fear as she touched her beloved grandmother. She was still breathing, but she seemed weak. Her skin was paler than usual and Alagera was scared for the healer's life. She didn't even know what was causing her to be so sick. "Urail, please get up," she gently touched the face of her grandmother and begged that she would awaken. As though sensing the desperation in the young woman's voice, Nera opened her eyes and looked up.

"Alagera," she barely managed to whisper. Hearing her grandmother's voice, Alagera grew excited and spoke fast.

"What happened? Are you okay? You will not believe what I have seen and heard. Our King..."

"Our King has betrayed his Kingdom, his people and his world," Nera completed the sentence. She knew all that happened, just as she knew the danger that was to come. "We must leave now, my child. Get as far away from here as we can. We must go now."

"Leave?" Alagera was confused, "What of our people? We must warn them! Tell them of what is to come. We cannot abandon them. I won't abandon them," she declared.

Nera rose unsteadily and looked into the eyes of her apprentice, "But you must. Sometimes some things must be sacrificed for the greater good." She began to move about her room to push viles of potions into a small sack. "We'll need these. Go to the shelve and get my book Alagera. We will need that too," Nera moved about as quick as she could to prepare to leave unaware of the look on Alagera face.

"How can you leave? This is our Kingdom. We must stay and fight," her voice was soft. Nera sighed and turned to face her.

"That is not..." she stopped speaking as they felt the ground shake. It was a gentle shake at first but it soon became violent and Alagera had to hold onto a groove in the wall so that she would not fall over. Nera became commanding, "Don't argue with me now, Alagera. They are attacking and we are leaving."

Fieht passed a third small village, ignoring the looks of the people at the edge. The day was almost over, and already she was becoming restless. If she stopped, it would take two more days to get to Anozira at the pace she was currently going. If she didn't stop, she could cut that down by half, but the horse she now rode would need feed and water, and some rest. She continued past the village, knowing that there would be no inn, or a stables. Fieht thought to herself for a few seconds wondering if the horse would be comfortable resting outside, even though it was used to a barn by now.
She guided the horse down the path, entering a calm and peaceful woods, this woods marked the end of one part of her country, to another. She had always found it strange that her country was split in two, with two different rulers, but that was the way things were now a days. Fieht frowned at the quiet of the forest, there were no birds or other animal sounds to be heard. She had a feeling that it would be wise to be out of this woods before nightfall.

Kairen swam beneath the cresting waves of the merman planet, Solas. His mucus-covered form cutting through the icy sea as a warm knife would through butter. An eerie calm surrounded the ocean depths, the polar opposite of what a person would think of a habited planet. Schools of fish swam past, darting for refuge from the merman as his powerful, lean muscles propelled him forward faster than any other ocean-dwelling creature. Rainbows of color flashed past as the sea dwellers hid from the man, their scales glinting with the meager amounts of sunlight that could reflect off of their scaly bodies. In this area of Solas, on the base of Val-ki-nor, the Volcanic Summit, the sun shone through almost to the bottom. This region was still shallow compared to the rest of the water-covered planet, being the continental shelf. Shadows drifted along the bottom, dancing with each other as if they were in a waltz.

The rocky bottom of the sea was clearly visible, especially to the Solas-borns keen eyes; sea weed and kelp managed to sprout forth from their rocky beds, defying the solid stone bottom. Kairen's body seemed to sway in the water, his legs slowly kicking in time with the stroking of his arms; this was natural to him, more natural than breathing. Of course, that isn't saying much as his muscled chest was not inflating and deflating with the act of drawing breath. No, it was still, the ocean water flowing over his ribbed gills, causing them to spread and close back. Soon enough, the shallow waters opened up, the shelf ending as Kairen sped forward towards his destination.

Suddenly, the shadows vanished, being cut off by an under-sea cliff that dropped straight down into a darm ravine; however, the young Al-amar simply kept pushing his way through the frigid waters, descending into the depths before crossing over the chasm that led to a more dangerous portion of the depths. His path led north, towards his home and kingdom. The scenery did not change however, it still consisted of the normal stony bottom with spires of rock protruding from the floor, almost like spikes protruding from skin. Forests of kelp could be seen. Finally, a sound was heard by the swimmer, the cry of one of the whales in the ocean. The whales of Solas were gentle giants, and due to this, Kairen did not flinch when a male Arva came into his field of vision. This beast appeared just like a normal whale, except for the massive spikes protruding in a ridge down its back. Measuring a full 400 feet, it was a massive animal. It was also the prime creature that the Al-amar Beast-warriors tamed as their companions.

Kairen, for once, sighed at never training with the beast-handlers; it would have been a valuable skill in the coming days of war and conflict. Even so, he swiftly approached the animal, drawing his hand along its flank as it drifted by in search of its microscopic feast. Apperently, the touch registered and a set of intelligent eyes gazed into Kairen's own before the Arva glided past. The man's eyes were filled with glee, there was something about the oceans majesty that filled him with pride and happyness. Of course, the merman quickly realized that this was not the time to dawdle and gape at things he had seen all his life; Kairen Al-amar, General and Grand-Prince of Al-amar would return to his home city of Tridentius for the first time in 5 Solas years. No news had been sent to him when he was dwelling within the Shark Sea; no doubt, there would be changes that woudl be foreign to the merman.

With renewed vigor, Kairen swam forth, his eyes noticing the tiny animals and bottom feeders on the ocean's floor. Very little light descended this low; the Solas-folk did not need it. After all, their eye-sight was just as used to almost pitch black as any other ocean dweller. Spires, chasms, and ravines dotted the desert-like sea-scape. After many long hours, the Kai-zhen-mirua came into view. Glistening even under water, the structure was a monument to the strength of the Solas Guardians of the past. Not one person ever brok through the Ice Wall. Rumors of a seventh kingdom oozed from that frigid, northern area. Kairen would find out. In his vision gifted to him by the Tree of Wisdom, his mind had been shown vaguely where the Trident of Solas lay resting. In order to obtain this artefact, the young prince would be forced to travel deep within the Kai-zhen-mirua's icy waters and face the perils that lay in wait there.

As Kairen descended another cliff, he spotted the beautiful city he still called his home. Seated behind a ring of dense kelp that ascended almost to the surface, the Crystal City of Tridentius shined as a monument to the strength of Al-amar. The fortress city, hidden in a kind of valley, was protected by the natural cliffs that ringed it. Nothing could get into this area without first being spotted, including Kairen. The cities massive spires were less glamerous than if they had been above land; however, they were massive to say the least. A 30 foot wall (ooc: It is that thick) ringed the entire city. Tridentius was structured on a principle of tiers. As one ascended into the city's depths, they would be faced by a set of concentric walls, each with its gate in a different location. In total, there were 5 tiers, housing the entire Al-amari population. The Sea-Emperor's city was the only massive residential and military structure in the realm, but the few outposts held the territory; no one dared anger Al-amar's wrath. Within the city, the 5 30 foot walls refused entry to any hostile entity, no matter of who or what it was. Being the lowest, the first tier was home to the Blade-Warriors, the primary source of military prowess. They served as foot soldiers, but were strong and well trained. Their smaller numbers meant little to them; they lived to fight and die. No better foot soldiers could be asked for by any king. Gatehouses, dorms, barracks lined the wide walkways. The beautiful military presence was the pride of Tridentius, in a permenant hustle and bustle of war preperations.

The second tier was the home to the Beast-Handlers, a sect of the military with an odd affinity for sea life and their uses as weapons. The gargantuan pens of these animal masters housed their comrades, Arva whales, Driv dolphines, Sciya Sharks. It would appear as a zoo to any onlooker, but this was far from the truth; the pens, formed of kept, Arva bone, and other materials, housed the strongest cavalry in the sea. The third tier was a residential zone, simply that. Houses were basic for Al-amar; however, they were rather elaborate in reality. Spires came up from some dwellings, a myriad of styles despite their many similarities. The fourth tier was home to the Sciya Legion, the very pinacle of military might and perfection. Dressed in the garb that Kairen now wore, they were the masters of killing on the open field. Their barracks were large, housing these veteran soldiers. It was almost identical to the first tier; however, it was smaller and more compact, suited to the smaller number of the Legion than of the Blade-warriors.

The final tier glimmered like a beacon to Kairen; it was his home, the residential area housing the elite of the elite. Serving as the King's fortress, Tier Five was elaborate beyond the meaning of the word. Everything was crafted from marble or gems. Magic viens laced the spires and castles, diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds encrusted the buildings. Light seemed to be coming from the building. It was a specticle beyond explanation. It seemed that the Hall of God's had been placed on Solas, descending from the heavens to come to Al-amar. Kairen's eyes drifted over this, not finding a change in the city over 5 years; it was the same as it had ever been. The entire city was formed of marble, as if it was a giant chunk that had been carved by giants. Lanterns filled with a gelatinous, luninescent material could be seen. Gazing in shock at having seen Tridentius once more, he almost forgot to observe the number of homes. The third tier was full with homes, the masses of this realm; however, there were many more dotting the other realms. He would be sure to speak to his grand-father about this.

He drifted forward, passing through the kelp forest until he stood before the Gates of War. The name was a false one, war had never been allowed to come directly to the city-fortress; it was always crushed before it even approached. As he touched his feet down on the rocky sea floor, the portal opened, the marble pushing aside masses of sea water like giant propellers; he had been expected apperently. No one seemed to be manning the gates, everyone was out of the streets. If one had been untrained, they would have thought the city was deserted; however, this was most definately not the case. As dictated in the rules of the Death Combat trial, when the victor returned home, no one was to greet him or even speak or see him until his closest relative had. It was a custom that the Al-amari took rather seriously.

Due to the absence of people, he strode along the clean, perfect cobblestone paths leading up to the Sea-Emperor's home; the gates automatically opened for Kairen as he passed beneath their elaborately shaped arch-ways. Eventually, he reached the very entrance to Tridentius' palace. The gateway was of marble, adorned with a myriad of diamonds. Flanking the gate, were two massive serpant statues, a full 20 feet in height. There were a myriad of windows coating the wide front side, all of which were shaded with black curtains, made of a material that magically didn't react to water. The Solas-born had learned how to make water react like air on some objects. This is why their items within the city did not become wet, or float on the water. His hand extended, shaking a bit from nervousness. Slowly, the marble door opened, a stream of light coming from within.

Slowly, his foot stepped into the building, traveling across the marble floor swiftly, eager to return to his true home. Eventually, his feet carried him to the throne room; however, no guards stood to oppose his movements as the door slammed open. No sound was heard as the marble door was thrown wide, nothing would be damaged either. On his throne, sat the Sea Emperor himself, Tridentius Al-amar. Rumored to be the greatest warrior of all time, he stood as an immortal testement to true strength in all ways. His throne was of the same material as the Kai-zhem-mirua, as was his armor. The carapace of compressed water was legendary, as no one knew how he had acquired such an item. It was an ornate peice of armor, possessing spike and protrusions that seemed to enhance its appearence. No normal blade could peirce the Kai Carapace; at least, nothing that anyone could make.

The helm was removed, resting on the arm-rest of the massive throne. Its simplicity made it a form of art; even without adornment, the throne was the most gorgeous thing anyone could see in their lifetime. Sitting atop the royal seat, was a man that could have been Kairen in a few thousand years. The face was exactly the same, except for the creases in the skin, and the hair was the same mithril color. Of course, this man was slightly thicker built. as Kairen approached the throne, he did not react in wonder or excitement at seeing this sight; it had become normal to him throughout his life. He was merely a few feet from the throne when the Emperor rose and stepped from the dias upon which his throne lay.

Tridentius and Kairen mirrored each other's posture: straight backed, but relaxed, firm and strong. Their eyes mirrored each others as they connected; such a reunion would normally of heralded a smile, but neither of these men were used to such a thing. Eventually, both grinned, their sharp teeth making the action seem rather interesting. Both of the men, the ancient and the child, had not seen the other in 5 years to the day, and it was a wonder that they still had not thought of what to say. After-all, Kairen had slain this man's second son by tearing out his throat.

"I have returned Emperor Tridentius, Lord of Al-amar. I come to my home after serving the punishment for my sin."

The words were merely a formality, everyone knew that there was no sin in killing; however, everyone said such words upon returning from exile, it was the way things were. The king smiled and nodded, and the Kai armor vanished. Beneath that carapace was the exact same shark-skin garb kairen wore. As odd as it was for a warrior race, the pair embraced. With this act, the entire room errupted into applause. The denizens of the kingdom emerged from their homes, the guards resumed their posts, and the Royal Legion celebrated the return of their General and Grand Prince. It was a tale from some happy ending fantasy; of course, the celebration did not last long. The feast was consumed in silence, the alcohol was drunk in silence, and eventually, only Kairen and the Emperor were left within the room. Now was the talk for business.

"Grand-son, while you were gone, you surely have changed. You are not the child I once knew a while ago. What news have you, my child?"

Kairen had been waiting for this question for a while, when one returned it meant telling what had occured. Of course, the Sea-Emperor would believe the tale, he had lived through the last rise of the Dreaded One. In truth, Tridentius was 12,000 years old. The royalty of Solas were practically immortal, the only way they died is through battle; such people refused to die any other way, and it was so.

"Grandfather, Garthox has escaped his prison and has consumed the world of Belluvier. I, Kairen Al-amar, have been chosen as the Guardian of Solas."

A silence followed, an eerie absence of sound as the ruler attempted to digest the fact that his grandson, a tiny fraction of his age, was likely stronger than he was. It was shocking to say the least. At this time, no other kingdom knew of the Magi's defection from the League. There was no information about the imminent invasion. As such, Al-amar was in peace-time, without the army assembled. Of course, all that took was a single order. Grand-father and grand son sat, desiring to talk with each other.

"Then why have you not placed the Kai armor upon your body, Kairen? When you were a child, I told you as to how I was granted this myself. If you truly are the Guardian that has been summoned, summon your Armor. You are likely here to gather information about what lies beyond the Kai-zhen-mirua, on our northern border. This too will be told to you."

Kairen knew as to the secret of the Kai Armor, he had been told by his grand-father as a knee-high toddler; when he connected with the Tree of Wisdom, this tale was confirmed without a doubt. The visions Kairen had rushed back into his head, granting him the instinctive knowledge of how to form the Kai Armor; however, he hesitated briefly before using that power. Once one wore the Kai Armor for that first time, they could only remove it briefly; his grand father was replacing his as they spoke. although Kairen knew that Tridentius was not a Guardian himself, he knew that the last Guardian had forced a weaker duplicate of his own Armor onto the King. So said the tale anyway.

"I haven't placed it upon my body because I was awaiting your approval to do so. It is a step I was unwilling to take unless I had your blessing, grand-father."

A belly laugh insued from the elder of the two, it was amusing to him to think that his grand-son still required his permission to strengthen himself. However, that laugh was all of the vital permission Kairen needed. Slowly, the mucus-covering that all mer-folk wore began thickening, the solution multiplying in its volume until it was covering all of Kairen in a few inches of thick, slimy mucus. However, the vital skin covering slowly seperated, the mucus drianing closer to the Guardian's rough skin while the water drifted to the top. This was what Kairen had seen in his vision from the Tree, one of his most powerful magics. His hands rose up to his chest, forming a series of seal in the air, an icy blue path showing where his fingers waved. Each movement formed a crest in the Solasian alphabet, accenting Kairen's speach.

"Kai, zhi, mi, av, rha, scri, ju, wa, vry, al, mar, kai-yu-ra-kai!"

One would have had to have been deaf if they could not realize the ritualistic chant and incantation that Kairen was instinctually reciting, as if it was second nature. As his hands waves and words spewed forth from his mouth, the pupil in his eyes vanished and they changed to a mithril color laced with viens of ice. An aura surrounded his body, as if he were glowing; however, the most drastic change was in the covering over his body. The top layer of water began shifting and morphing, an unexplainable reaction from a fluid. Slowly, the icy water became compressed, until the point where it was actually solid. Not ice at all, but the same material the Kai-zhen-mirua was formed of.

Referred to by all as the Kai Armor, it was the most awesome form of defense one could imagine. Being formed of the mucus-covering, it was like a second skin; being formed of Guardian magic, it was so light that it was as if one was wearing nothing at all. This was why the king had never been injured while wearing it, the Armor was stronger than steel by many fold. It appeared to be formed of uncountable thousands of tiny diamonds; however, they were of a icy blue tiny rather than clear. Spikes protruded from the almost impenetrable armor, forming a carapace similiar to that of the Arva whale. Kairen did not realize that he was even wearing anything at all, the armor instantaneously morphing to fit his movements with no restriction. However, when the helm formed over his head, he realized that something actually had happened. The helm was simple enough, having a grill where the mouth was and a slit for the eyes; Kairen's mithril hair spilled out from the helm. Covered in tiny spikes, the helmet completed the transformation.

The young man was stunned, the first leg of his journey was over; however, much more was still to come. His grandfather sat down on his marble chair once more, giving a brief nod of approval as his descendant mirrored his own icy carapace; however, having lived through the last Guardian's coming, Tridentius knew that in order to defeat Garthox, his grandson would have to pass through the Kai-zhen-mirua.

"Kairen, I have only been through the Kai-zhen-mirua once; however, as I was not a Guardian, my memory was erased upon exiting that region. I am sorry that I can not give you any knowledge as to what to expect, or what is behind that curtain of ice. Have a safe journey, and return to me alive Kairen."

"I will, Grand-father"

With those words, Kairen left the Crystal City behind, giving his commanders an order to be prepared for any threat from above the water or below it. The man swam off, armored and ready to face the perils that lurked behind the curtain of ice to the north. Strangely, he felt a calling to the region hidden by the Kai-zhen-mirua; as if that was his home and he would be greeted there. Deep within his mind, Kairen remembered the vision of the beings behind the curtain; their shadows appearing vaguely. However, the merman also remembered seeing one of those shadows within himself. Kairen swam north, crossing over the bleak landscape of the Northern Sea, gradually approaching his destination.

Azrael follows Ash to the Librarian's desk, clearly puzzled at a layman in charge of this vast store of knowledge. When she mentions the swords, and that they are in a play, Azrael gives a theatrical bow and looks up at the librarian, smiling. The woman is still quite skeptical, so he chuckles nervously and puts on a nervous smile. She rose slowly to lead them to the basement, a comforting downward trek leaving a satisfied smile on Azrael's lips. As they pass the computers, Azrael looks, somewhat curious, but not the least bit surprised. Scrying would have made its way to the masses eventually, I'm just surprised so many have enough talent to do so freely.

The books lying open on various tables held text in the exact same script, leading Azrael to believe that none of the books in the library were originals, but copied by the same hand. Scrutinizing the pages of the open books, he did not see the librarian hand Ash the emerald book, but did notice when she left. "Found the tome already? Why then did you need her-" Ash's question cut through his own and he began to think. What would happen indeed? The object was clearly time-related, so that would be the first thing to look for. "I believe we should look for mentions of people going missing, only to turn up much later, weeks, months, even years, and looking as they had the day they vanished. Also, strangely dressed people appearing out of nowhere would give another hint at the right place."

Azrael stepped to the other side of the table and began scrutinizing the shortened entries, looking for one that might be what they were looking for.

Jermayan slumped exhaustedly in his saddle, the other two fairing no better. It had been a hard ride, but once the great gates of Andarrith came into view, all weariness was forgotten. Jermayan’s body straightened as his energy returned in a burst. The search was near over. “Jennath, Aranil, stay alert. We may be home, but trouble has been known to taint even the beauty of Andarrith.” As he finishes his order, a hooded figure in earthen colored leather begins walking next to Jead’ene, his stallion.

“I see you Jermayan. It has been long since you visited the Great City. One might wonder on the reason for that, though I cannot blame you. There have been strange things happening lately. First the Shadow Elves, then the boy returns. It all seems a bit coincidental.” The elf looks up at Jermayan a question hanging in his eyes.

“I see you, Sandalon. I would like no better than to remain in Andarrith and drink teas, however I must go where I am ordered. I know of the Shadow Elves, but you said the boy was here. I would hope he is still in the city, as we have ridden from dawn ‘till dusk in attempts to catch him up.”

“I am afraid not, friend Jermayan. He spoke with the even guards and they told him of the Shadow Elf problem in Eastern Slokas. The boy left shortly after learning of their location. Do not worry about him for tonight, the regiment there can take care of him until you arrive. Take it easy for just this night and spend it in the city. Leave in the morning, well rested.”

“I am sorry, Sandalon, but I cannot. We must find Joshua. Until then, all else is secondary.” Jermayan turns Jead’ene eastward and begins to leave, his two lieutenants following suit. “Farewell, Sandalon. May the sun always bless you with warmth and light.”

“And to you, Jermayan. Safe journey, ‘till next our paths cross.”

The Drydock, a complex only recently built around the portal zone, was a hustle of activity. People were scurrying too and fro, and legions of troops were training on the rooftops and floating docks. Ships had been leaving this place at a maddening speed, and not all of them were soundly put together; That wasn't a concern though, because most of the ships leaving from this place would see combat once, and then sink into the murky depths, never to be seen again by Man or Merman.

As the need for quick production in an area with few accessible natural resources was imperative , the entire shipyard had been built around the rock face, using materials shipped through the portal from Bellivuar, and hastily constructed in Solas. Various bolts were missing, but the frame as a whole held up quite well, resisting whatever the elements and Merman alike threw at it. Almost all of the shipyard was made of aluminum and steel, with some of the main supports made of Iron, and wooden support beams and planks made of felled Elven woof from an earlier war. The rooftops were made of steel rebar and concrete, along with most of the walls above the surface. To add a layer of thermal insulation, the entire place had been coated over with a thick Kelp based pulp, and left to dry. This left the shipyard with a dark green stucco coating most of it, making it indeed an odd scene to behold.

The Ardent-Voyager, a massive Dreadnought spanning roughly 100 Meters long, sat in it's drydock like a massive Grey Rock. It was due to be launched later today, for the offensive on the Grand City Merman city of Tridentius, with the reasoning that if they could take it, the rest would fall easily.

The Ardent-Voyager was almost unsinkable; And it was resistant to most waves under 50 feet, along with any form of maelstrom. It was simply too large. It's six foot thick armor plating insured that it wouldn't breach, and the massive amount of cannon and storage space allowed it operate for months, and still maintain a nasty offensive capability.

And to aid them in their quest, a rouge Merman king was aiding them in the war.

Claudius was nowhere to be found, hiding and commanding his massive army from one of his smaller vessels.

"People going missing..." Ash repeated after Azrael. She trailed her finger down the page and read the descriptions of the strange events that had taken place. "Ghost sightings...no, bright white light....no, strange voices....no, memory loss...," Ash stopped at that. "Memory loss," she flipped through the book till she found the page with the article on that particular cave.

"The Jenolan caves west of Sydney date back some 340 million years, making them the oldest known open caves in the world. However, that is not the only thing that makes it famous. Strange reports of people going missing have been released ever since its discovery. What makes this disappearances even more weird is that the missing people reappear only to have a memory loss. When several artifacts were removed from the cave, these disappearances stopped and..." Ash looked up at Azrael, excitement evident in her eyes. "I've been there before," Ash spoke loudly but made her voice softer as the other man in the room glared at her.

"I've been there before. And I think I know where the chains are. They're no longer in the caves," Ash spoke quickly as she closed the thick book and walked away from the table. "My parents were archeologists and my father dealt alot with caves. They brought me with them on this one particular trip to see the Jenolan caves when I was eight. Once there, they discovered a claystone in the formation of a hand. They called it the 'Hand of God'. The last I heard, it was transported to the Metropolitan Museum." Ash walked up the steps, "And I would bet the time chains are in that stone."

Ash pushed open the door of the basement and made to step out when she saw the librarian standing up from behind her counter to greet four police officers who had just entered the building. She then pointed to the basement. Ash shut the door and turned back to face Azrael, "Yeah...we have company."