#but it's dark magic! even smaller spells should have some kind of toll even if it's not immediately evident

[idolsummons]

👏 hana, being self-taught in the magical arts, being unaware that the body has limits with how much can be executed by the user before it starts taking an actual toll on them and pushing herself too far 👏

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #185

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the snake/shrine maiden/ninja/widow Assassin of Paraiso! She’s got more jobs than a freakin’ barbie doll...

Check out her build breakdown (expect true name spoilers) below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: In Shimousa you must wait, until the dice read five or eight.

Mochizuki Chiyome is an Arcane Trickster Rogue for the regular kind of ninja trickery, plus a Fathomless Warlock to grab the kind of thing your forefather would normally have to boink a snake god to get. (That’s what happened, right? It’s been a while.)

Race and Background

Shockingly, Mochi is a Human, but Variant so we can get cool stuff. This gives her +1 Dexterity and Intelligence, as well as Religion proficiency to make her cover as a shrine maiden foolproof and the Mobile feat for when the right fool comes along. This adds 10′ to her movement speed, dashing lets her ignore difficult terrain, and you avoid opportunity attacks from creatures you’ve attacked this turn.

Magical assassins seem to be more common in D&D than their mundane counterparts, because they have their own freakin’ background! As a Volstrucker Agent, you get proficiency in Deception and Stealth. You know, for ninjaing.

Ability Scores

Dexterity is number 1. You’re a ninja, it’s not a surprise. Second is Charisma. Your snake blood doesn’t like to cooperate on good days, you’ve got to be convincing enough to make it behave. Also, there’s more ninja stuff in charisma, it’s a good skill to have. Your Intelligence comes next, ninjas don’t really have magic powers, they’re just really clever. That being said none of your spells actually use intelligence that much, so we don’t need it to be that high. Your Wisdom isn’t bad, spy networks don’t work if you can’t tell when someone’s lying, and since we’re only building the one character you’ll have to be your own spy network.

Oh yeah, the real Mochizuki ran a spy network, we’re throwing that in the build too. So we’re making a shrine maiden/snake/ninja/widow/master spy. Real simple.

Anyway. Your Constitution isn’t great, just don’t get hit and you’ll be fine. That means we’re dumping Strength. Don’t worry, you don’t really need it anyway.

Class Levels

Rogue 1: Starting off as a rogue gets you a lot of proficiencies, like Dexterity and Intelligence saves, plus four skills. Grab Acrobatics for ninjaing skills, Performance for better disguises, and Insight and Investigation for spy work. If that wasn’t enough, you get Expertise in two of those skills, doubling your proficiency bonus in Stealth and Insight. You also get a Sneak Attack if you’re attacking with a finesse weapon or a ranged weapon, and you have advantage or a friend near the target. This adds 1d6 damage to the attack once per turn. You also learn Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

Rogue 2: Second level rogues have a Cunning Action, which lets you dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action. Y’know, ninja stuff.

Rogue 3: Boom! 2d6 sneak attack. Also, you’re an Arcane Trickster now. This gives you some Spells, most of which are Illusion or Enchantment, but all of which use your Intelligence to cast. Or they would, if we didn’t go the galaxy brain route and pick spells that don’t use your intelligence. You’re forced to pick up Mage Hand as one of your three cantrips, but you also get Friends to make fooling guards easier, and Prestidigitation for smaller magical tricks. On top of that, Illusory Script makes you an expert codewriter, Disguise Self takes care of your... well, your disguises (Though regular disguises are probably better since this is the one spell that actually uses your intelligence), and Fog Cloud gives you a quick and dirty smoke bomb. Speaking of Mage Hand, you also get a Mage Hand Legerdemain right out of the gate, making your mage hand extra sneaky. It can be invisibile, and you can use it to stow objects in containers carried by other creatures, steal objects from containers held by other creatures, or pick locks and disarm traps at range. Also, you only have to use your bonus action to control the hand.

Warlock 1: Bouncing over to grab your cursed Orochi blood makes you a Fathomless warlock. I know that’s a bit weird, but don’t worry, we’ll fix it in flavoring. Instead of a Tentacle of the Deep, you’re summoning a head of Orochi as a bonus action for up to a minute! Each turn you can attack for a bit of cold damage, and you can summon up to Proficiency heads per day. You also get a Gift of the Sea, giving you a swim speed of 40′ and the ability to breathe underwater. As long as you stay near the surface, you can probably get away with calling it walking on water. You also learn Pact Magic, which you cast with your Charisma. This doesn’t mix with your spell slots from rogue, but you can use warlock slots for rogue spells and vice versa. You get Eldritch Blast so you don’t have to collect your throwing knives like a chump, Minor Illusion for minor illusions, Hex for a weak Orochi’s curse, and Expeditious Retreat so you can go even faster if you wanna.

Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, like Devil’s Sight which lets you see in magical darkness and Armor of Shadows for free mage armor on yourself. Shrine maidens aren’t known for wearing plate mail, so this should help a bit. You also learn how to Cause Fear, frightening a creature for up to a minute if they fail their wisdom save. That means they can’t move closer to you, and they have disadvantage on attacks while they can see you.

Rogue 4: Now that we’re done with warlocking for a bit, bouncing over to rogue gets you your first Ability Score Improvement. Bump up that Charisma for stronger spells and Orochi heads. You also learn the spell Color Spray for some pocket sand at the ready whenever you want. Roll a couple dice, then blind creatures from least to most HP up to the point you rolled.

Rogue 5: Fifth level rogues get 3d6 sneak attack, and they can make an Uncanny Dodge as a reaction, halving incoming damage from an attack.

Rogue 6: At sixth level you get another round of Expertise, so double up on your Deception and Performance so you can sneak into wherever you need to go.

Rogue 7: Seventh level rogues get Evasion. It’s been a while since someone’s gotten evasion, huh? It’s a good feature though, it turns your failed dexterity saves into basically successes as far as damage goes, and successful dex saves now negate damage entirely. (Also, your sneak attack goes up to 4d6.)

Warlock 3: The Orochi isn’t quite done with you yet, so we’re heading back for a few more levels. At level three you undertake the Pact of the Talisman, letting you add 1d4 to a failed ability check Proficiency times per long rest. It’s a shame you don’t have a fancy sword like Grass Cutter, but at least it’s useful. Now that you can see in the dark though, you can cast Darkness to create a more effective smoke bomb that only you and other warlocks can see though.

Warlock 4: Use this ASI to get your Keen Mind. This adds 1 to your intelligence among other neat tricks, but the big reason we’re here is for the ability to recall information for up to a month. This will be more useful later, but it’s always nice to be brainy. You also learn the cantrip Toll the Dead for some ooky spooky necrotic damage, and Silence to perform acts of violence, in silence. Ninjas.

Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks can cause Fear, frightening multiple creatures who fail their wisdom save. Once per long rest you can also mark a creature with a Sign of Ill Omen, casting Bestow Curse using a warlock spell slot. There’s a couple out of the box options in the PHB, but ultimately you can make up whatever you want, as long as it’s DM approved. The target also has to fail a wisdom save, and it lasts up to a minute.

Rogue 8: Use this ASI on your Dexterity for better damage and a higher AC. Turns out rogues are dexterous, who knew? Speaking of being dexterous, grab Misty Step so you can become so dexterous you literally blink out of existence and back in. Related note, dexterous no longer looks like a word.

Rogue 9: Ninth level rogues can really mess up their enemies with 5d6 damage on a sneak attack, or you can mess up enemies with a Magical Ambush. As long as you’re hidden from whatever creature you’re targeting, they have disadvantage on a spell’s saving throw. This also applies to warlock spells, making it especially useful for curses. (Also, 5d6 sneak attack)

Rogue 10: Tenth level rogues get another ASI, so bump up that Charisma again for a stronger curse. You also can cast Message to relay info over short distances, or Magic Mouth to set up information dead drops for other party members.

Rogue 11: Eleventh level rogues can deal reliable damage thanks to their 6d6 sneak attack. They also have Reliable Talent, so the lowest you can roll on a skill you’re proficient in is a 10. When you’re good at something, you’ll never fail a day in your life. You can also cast Blur to become harder to hit. Maybe it’s like, a little smoke bomb? Not my best work, I’ll admit.

Rogue 12: At twelfth level you get your last ASI, so max out that Dexterity for the best damage and defense you could hope for.

Rogue 13: Thirteenth level arcane tricksters are Versatile Tricksters, letting you spend an action to distract a nearby creature with your mage hand, giving advantage on your next attack that turn. If you don’t have extra ninjas at home, magic bought is fine. Don’t scoff at free advantage though, especially with that 7d6 sneak attack. You also learn to pull a Kotarou and can cast Enemies Abound, which makes it so one creature can’t tell friend from foe and will attack randomly if they fail an intelligence check.

Rogue 14: Your brand new Blindsense means you’ll always be able to sense other ninjas, since invisible and hidden creatures within 10′ of you are always on your radar. You also -finally- get your spy network online thanks to Clairvoyance, letting you create a sensor in any location you’re familiar with, or an obvious one you aren’t, like around a corner. For up to ten minutes, you can see or hear through that sensor as if you were there, and can even swap which sense you use at will.

Rogue 15: Your capstone isn’t particularly flashy, but Slippery Mind will help make sure you don’t get cursed more than you already are, since you now have proficiency with wisdom saves. One last thing: 8d6 sneak attack. It’s pretty good.

Pros:

With multiple kinds of magic backing up your impressive stealth skills, you come packing with plenty of ways to slip into and out of combat at will, or even better, avoid combat entirely.

Thanks to your keen mind and clairvoyance, you can spy on others and keep that information tucked away for safekeeping. Then, you can use spells like Message and Magic Mouth to get that info where you need it to go without arousing suspicion. Who knows, you might legitimately start up a spy network.

Curses are great. For your enemies, I mean, sorry. But yeah, they’re pretty effective, especially if you can start a fight with an enemy already cursed. Like, say, you sneak up to them and use Magical Ambush to make it even harder for them to avoid the spell, and that starts initiative? That’d be nice.

Cons:

Some DMs are not very flexible, and they’ll just force you into combat regardless of how much you try to avoid it. That’s really bad for you, since you’ve only got 100 HP. One stiff wind and you’re in Power Word Kill territory. Fortunately you’ve got a good AC, but still.

The one spell you have that actually uses intelligence is probably one of your most crucial, at least early on. Disguise Self not being that good kind of sucks while you’re getting set up, but eventually you’ll be good enough with a regular disguise kit it probably won’t matter.

You have a lot of utility spells, but only a couple spell slots to use them with. Long missions might be a problem if you don’t pace yourself.

[sebthesnipe]

Nerves

First // Previously // Next

My Dearest Procyon

Masterpost

MDP Discord Server

Chapter 32

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

“Try it again, but loosen your grip on the weaves,” Patton instructed, watching Logan work as they walked. 

The witch lifted his hands, giving a flick of his wrist to try and produce the sparks he had been practicing for the majority of the day. 

“Solanum lycopersicum!” Logan cried as an explosion went off in his hand making him jump. 

Patton paused, assessing the amount of pain that seeped through the bond before deciding it was minimalistic and bursting into laughter. 

The taller man shot him an unamused look as he shook off the blow. 

“What is so funny?” Logan asked flatly, though Patton knew the man wasn’t insulted. 

“It’s just,” Patton breathed, trying to catch his breath. “You’re just so darn cute when you try not to curse!” 

Logan warmed with the feeling of Patton’s affection and despite his attempts at the contrary, couldn’t help but give a small amused smile. 

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing,” he teased lightly. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Patton replied, giving him a small nudge. “Now, here. Let me help.”

Patton moved to stand in front of his partner, pulling him to a stop as he reached for his hands. Logan didn’t bother resisting as he rested his hand in Patton’s, palms up. Logan’s tanned skin was hidden beneath dark scorch marks and a number of small blisters. 

“Why don’t you weave and I’ll help guide you?” Patton offered, “Try a healing spell.”

Logan glanced up from their hands to look down on  Patton’s sky colored gaze for reassurance. 

“I am not sure that is an advisable course of action,” Logan warned, his worry palpable. “The outcome of my spellwork is a bit unpredictable at the moment. At this range, if something were to-”

“Logan,” Patton chuckled, interrupting. “I’m a dragon.” Patton pursed his lips and produced a small puff of fire for emphasis. The spark instantly disappeared into the air, leaving only a tiny dissipating tendril of black smoke.  “I don’t think you really need to worry about hurting me,” he teased with a wink, finding his concern as endearing as ever.  “Now, start weaving.”

Logan gave a small nod, focusing on his work as he tried to fold the large cords of magic around his hands.

A chittering screeched pierced the air, making the witch jump with surprise. The action caused one of his weaves to loosen. A large cloud of pink burst between the tall witch and his dragon, enveloping the smaller of the two. 

“Oh, no!” Logan gasped, trying to wave away the unnatural fog. “Patton, are you alrig-” Logan froze at the sight before him, eyes wide with horror. “Patton… I am so so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about… it, Lo,” Patton coughed, giving his own wave before Logan’s shock really set in. The dragon’s gaze shot up to his worried eyes. “What? What is it?”

“Y-your hair,” Logan breathed slowly. 

Patton hesitated, reaching up slowly to pinch  one of his curls and pull it down to eye level. Logan tensed, waiting for Patton’s inevitable reaction as he studied the tiny pink lock. 

“Awwwww!!!!” Patton screeched, forcing Logan back a step as he covered his ears against the high pitched squeal. “I love it!” the smaller man added, bouncing in place. “Is it my whole head?!”

“N-no,” Logan admitted, “Hold on, I’m sure there’s a mirror in-” before Logan could reach for the pack on Patton’s shoulder, Virgil scrambled out of the sack, jumping down onto the grassy forest bed. 

“Virgil! Are you alright?” Logan rushed, “I thought I heard you call-”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil reassured, already shifting back to his human form. “We’re close I can feel it! We need to-” the smaller witch swayed, his sudden movements obviously taking their toll. 

“Virgil!” Patton gasped, moving to take his arm. Logan was on his opposite side in an instant. 

“I…” Virgil began, taking a moment to steady himself. “I’m alright. I’m-” he reassured before catching sight of his smallest companion and falling silent. “You’re… Pink?”

“You don’t like it?” Patton frowned, still not moving away.

“No, no!” Virgil rushed to reassure. “I think it looks really… cool.”

Patton preened at the compliment, warming Logan entirely. He couldn’t help but be a bit envious that the look was produced by Virgil and not him, but the sight of the expression was enough. Patton was breathtaking. 

The feel of Logan’s love for the dragon had him glancing back at him, his smile shifting to something softer as they helped Virgil sink down into a seated position. 

“Okay, guys,” Virgil grumbled. “It's really weird being the meat in a dragon-human sandwich so if you don’t mind…”

Patton flushed as he took a hurried step back, giving an embarrassed chuckle. 

“Sorry, Kiddo,” he mumbled, catching Logan’s confused state. 

“I don’t see how you could be the meat in a drag-”

“Just forget it, Lo,” Virgil interrupted, turning away in a fit of coughing. He didn’t have the energy for Logan’s density at the moment. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Patton hurried, his worry only growing with Logan’s. “Do you need some water? How about some food? When was the last time-”

“Patton!” Virgil snapped. “Stop. I’m fine,” he growled, obviously annoyed by the doting nature of the smaller man. 

Patton looked to Logan for reassurance. Logan had been with Virgil far longer than the dragon had. He would know how to handle him. 

Logan and Patton’s eyes met. It had been a little over a day and Virgil was already significantly worse. They had reason to worry. Still, with nothing they could do until they reached Roman, there was no point in riling him any further than necessary. Logan nodded at Patton, signalling for him to listen to the other witch. 

“Right, sorry,” Patton mumbled, backing off. 

“Are you sure it is nearby, Virgil?” Logan asked, his attention still on Patton, to make sure he was alright, as he knelt to check the witch’s temperature. “I didn’t sense anything.”

“Probably because it’s not your magic anymore!” Virgil retorted, the change in tone making him cough once more. ” 

“I suppose that makes sense,” Logan asked with an arched brow. “But with Patton’s level of arcana, even my original cloaking spell shouldn’t-”

“That’s it,” Virgil interrupted, pointing towards a large tree to Logan’s left.  “That has to be it. I can’t believe I almost missed it. -”

Logan straightened, turning towards the tree indicated and moving to examine it.

“”What’s going on?” Patton mumbled, moving to take Logan’s place next to Virgil, helping support him. 

“A travel rune.” Virgil explained. 

“A rune?” Patton asked, moving to take Logan’s place in supporting their friend. “You mean like those little magical stones people use for minor magic?”

“Yes,” Logan sighed softly, circling the tree, hand running over its rough bark. “this particular travel rune is similar to the ones that many witches carry in their pockets.” Logan explained.

“Virgil,” Patton sighed in defeat, turning to the other witch. “I don’t understand.”

“Lo gets this way when he is concentrating,” Virgil explained with a small amused smile, giving Patton a small pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s going to get us to Noname’s by sundown.”

“How though?” Patton asked, turning back to his shaky friend. 

“Those runes that we mentioned,” Virgil explained, “they use the natural magic of the item they are scribed on.” 

“Right,” Patton nodded, “I know that much, but that’s why so many spellcasters use stone, right? Stone is really old, which means it can hold and recharge its own magic. But if you wanted to move yourself from one spot to another, wouldn’t there need to be some kind of connection? Something that touched where you are and where you want to be? A rune can’t do that,” Patton considered it for a moment, “Can it?”

“Got it!” Logan called, his excitement spiking. Patton glanced up as the witch dropped to his knees, reaching an arm into a large knothole. 

“I still don’t understand!,” Patton grunted, annoyed., He watched Logan bury his arm down to the elbow, obviously looking for something.

“These are Pando Aspen trees,” Logan explained absently. “It’s latin for-”

“‘I spread out’,” Patton offered, earning a rush of pride from his partner. The feeling had him grinning, despite Logan’s act of physical reaction.

“Yes,” the witch continued. “They’re a clonal colony.”

“That means they make clones of themselves, apparently,” Virgil offered in a hushed whisper. “At least that’s what Lo told me last time we were here.”

“As such,” Logan went on without pause, “They are known to have a single, all encompassing root system.” 

Patton gave a loud gasp, his hands lifting to his mouth in surprise. “Like a nervous system!” the dragon supplied. 

“Precisely,” Logan nodded. 

“Which would give the spell a physical point of connection,” Virgil offered, obviously wanting to be included. 

“Without the need of a giant rune! That’s brilliant!” Patton cheered excitedly. 

“It was dangerous,” Logan pointed out. “We barely had enough mana between the two of us to keep up alive and I foolishly wasted a good portion of it  to give us a few hours advantage.”

.Patton glanced at their far too pale companion, brows furrowed with worry. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” the smaller man asked, “Not that I don’t believ-”

“You mean ‘cause he practically blew his hands off and turned your hair pink?” Virgil interrupted with an arched brow earning a surprised glance from the dragon. 

“What?” Virgil sighed, giving a shrug. “You really think I could sleep through explosions?” 

“We should be fine,” Logan reassured, “The spell uses the natural flow of trees. All that is required to induce the reaction is an influx of magical energy which we have plenty to spare.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Virgil reassured.

A loud crack echoed as something inside the tree snapped and Logan quickly removed his arm, taking a step back.

The three watched in silence as the bark began to give way, roots twisting upwards to form a small archway, just large enough to crawl through.

“Age before beauty,” Virgil grumbled under his breath, glancing at his other two companions with amusement in his eyes. 

……………………………………………………………….

“Snap out of it, Sleeping Beauty,” Remy ordered, moving to snap their fingers together in front of the Prince’s face.

Roman blinked, his mind slowly drifting back to him, the darkness of the room closing in. Where was he? How long had he been there? Wasn’t he supposed to be… There was someone he needed to… Virgil! Where was Virgil?!

His gaze shot up to meet the pale face of his current torturer.

“There you are, Handsome,” Remy grinned, flashing their pointed teeth. “Took you long enough. Not as sharp as your boyfriend, huh? He never takes this long.” 

“W-what are you talking-”

“Ah,” Remy interrupted, pressing a finger to Roman’s lips. “Best if you keep quiet to save your strength,” they paused for a moment, considering their words. “Or rather, my patience.”

Roman shot them a glare, but didn’t speak. 

“There’s a good pet,” Remy praised, moving to reach for his chains. “Now, I’m going to unchain you, Doll, and I need you to hold yourself up. Can you do that?” 

Roman hesitated, eyeing the baku suspiciously before nodding. 

“That’s a good meat-head,” they cooed softly, before unlocking his shackles. 

The soles of Roman’s boots hit the floor for the first time he had arrived in the chamber and he collapsed under his own weight. 

Remy gave a heavy sigh, arms crossing over their torso as they peered down at him. 

“Guurrll, We do not have time for this,” they huffed as they waited for the prince to straighten. “You’re going to have to get that perfectly toned ass of yours off the floor because I gave my word to that conceded, better-than-thou badger that I’d help get you out of here!” 

Roman glanced up at the words, swaying slightly as he brought himself up on his hands and knees.  

“Y-you… Y-you talked to Virgil?” he managed weakly. “Is he alright? Is he safe? Did he find Logan?” he rushed, crawling until he felt the hard lines of a nearby wall and hoisted himself up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remy dismissed. “He’s fine… Except the dying part.”

“What?!” If Roman’s knees weren’t already weak, the news would have them buckling beneath it. “No! You’re lying!” 

“I wish I was, Doll.”

“No!” Roman yelled at them once more. “This is another one of your tricks! Another torture method!” 

“Keep your voice down!” Remy hissed, “Or I’ll rip out your tongue!”

Roman’s glare intensified. 

“Do your worst!” he started “I’ll never-” 

Remy lifted a hand, giving a quick twist of their wrist, Roman’s voice suddenly giving out on him. He tried to cry out again, the only sound that managed to escape was a small croak. 

“That is enough!” Remy snapped, striding over to the weak prince, heels clicking against the stone floor. They reached out to take his chin, forcing his gaze to lift, just barely making out Remy’s pale face. “I hope those ear muscles are as toned as the rest of them because you need to listen and listen good, Doll. I’m about to catch you up to speed, just try and keep up,” the baku hissed, grip tightening painfully as Roman tried to pull away. “This diva would be more than content to feed off you until you lost that very attractive head of yours,” they growled. “But my best bitch is dying and he apparently believes you can save him.” Remy gave a pointed once over before clicking their tongue in disapproval. “Now, being the saint that I am, I have decided to help you. So, I’m going to give you your voice back and you’re going to keep your trap shut, got it?” 

It took a moment for Roman’s sluggish sleep deprived brain to catch up.

“Do. You. Under. Stand?” Remy growled, finally earning a slight nod. “Good.” Remy gave another snap of their fingers, undoing whatever it was they had done to the prince and causing him to give a stuttering cough. 

“We’ve got to get you above ground and there are plenty of guards between here and there,” Remy explained. “I can get you past most of them but I won’t have enough juice to go much further.”

“So, I’ll be on my own from there,” Roman nodded. 

“Guurl, what did I say about keeping those pretty lips closed,” Remy scoffed, but made no retaliation. “But yes. I can pretty much draw you a map from wherever we end up, but you’re S.O.L. Got it?”

Roman gave another nod, thankful when the baku finally let go. 

“Good. Now, now pull yourself together because I am not carrying your ass, no matter how cute it is!”

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 90 - Fourth Crusade (Part Two)

Chapter Synopsis: The Kingdom of Vacuo is about to enter its most daunting challenge since its conception. Salem is launching the Fourth Crusade. A war to end some of Remnant’s greatest warriors, including Team ENMY. Assistance from Atlas is on its way, but will the Fleet arrive in time to make a difference?

Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens in Vacuo will echo the events to come for the rest of Remnant.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

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The Fourth Crusade (Part Two)

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My life for Ire.

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It was afternoon, but the skies above Vacuo suddenly dimmed to the dark shadowing overcast of night.

The sun faded into obscurity. Instead, the shattered moon took its place. Its size much larger, more closer than any had seen in a very long time.

“Do you remember, Titan?” Salem sneered to her opponent across the sands. “This is the night I laid waste to everything you ever built. The night I brought ruin to everything you ever loved!”

“Yes, I remember. Which is why, I will not allow you to do the same to these Children of Remnant!” Titan declared.

The once golden sands of Vacuo dyed a soft shade of blue and purple. Stars in the sky shimmered with a haunting brightness. The kind astrologers used to foretell a great calamity approaching.

Although the battle between Grimm and the Kingdom’s warriors still waged with savage fervor, a small pause pervaded the battlefield. The phenomenon of the immortals’ duel garnered a hallowed awe by all. And the great pieces of the moon drew ever closer towards the world.

Salem’s curse mimicked the Cataclysm of ages past on a smaller scale. Even so, the damage it would cause would be nothing short of catastrophic.

I will not fail again, Titan told himself.

Those who have entrusted their lives to me will not allow it.

Titan’s body warped into that of a merchant, heavily-obscured by a brown cloak. From his backpack, he drew a few ordinary looking beans.

The man bent down and whispered a quiet incantation to the kernels resting his palm. They sprouted vines to the sound of his voice. He then, curled them into his fist, touched them once to his forehead, before tossing them into the ground a few feet ahead.

Immediately, there was an explosion of green vegetation. Giant beanstalks sprouted from the sand, intertwining into the sky and towards the falling moon. Once it reached its height, the flora branched out like a freshly cast fishing net.

“I must thank you for one thing, if one thing only, Wicked!” the Magic Bean Seller shouted. “You’ve offered me a chance at redemption!”

“You’re still the same fool you always were! Do you truly think yourself capable of changing anything?!”

“I will! I’ve found my calling, as late as it was!”

“Your world will end again!”

“No! You’re wrong! And this isn’t my world! IT IS THEIRS!!!”

Salem poured more of her Magic into the curse, as if to refute Titan’s claim by force. Every negative emotion she could dredge, increased the potency of the Cataclysm’s replication. Likewise, Titan infused his counter curse with the lifeforce saved from previous incarnations. He thought if this was the moment his long life led up to, he would gladly forfeit it all for a glimmer of hope against all hope—an odd against all odds.

The sound of the great collapse racked the continent like a tectonic plate shift. A tidal wave of sand blew everything and everyone in the vicinity off their feet. It was the eternal battle between unstoppable force and immovable object at its grandest.

The beanstalk caught the moon in its grasp, but only momentarily. The force of the falling world continued to descend. Its mass broke away the weaker branches, only leaving the strongest stalks to contend. Pieces of the moon were repelled, while others struck the earth like meteors.

Titan felt a sharp numbness set in. Committing so much of his energy into a single stroke took more than its toll. His mind began to haze at the edges. But still, he maintained his strength.

“I can feel you fading…” Salem narrowed. “Had you fought without spending yourself on that fruitless endeavor, you may have stood a chance. Alas, your sacrifice was all for naught. Stopping Behemoth only delayed the inevitable.”

Out from Salem’s back, the head of a great serpent burst out. Its body wriggled and writhed, trying to shake itself loose from the Witch’s flesh. When it was fully freed, it expanded rapidly in size.

With one pounce, it sunk its teeth into the base of the beanstalk, gnawing away at its roots.

“A pitiful effort your so-called redemption has become,” Salem snickered. “The same old mistakes in a few new ways—like dividing your power among the Maidens. I see the foolish belief you chose to place in these Children was never a lesson you planned to learn from.”

“Do you ever shut up!”

Glynda pointed her riding crop to the beanstalk and began reconstructing some of its fractured pieces.

“If you think we will entrust the Wizard with Vacuo’s safety alone, you are sorely mistaken.”

Minerva conjured the form of a fiery phoenix to do battle with Salem’s serpent. Its flaming talons and beak cut wounds all over the reptile’s scales.

She is right, Titan. You do not stand alone, several voices within the immortal resounded.

There was a rousing cry, and the legions of Vacuo’s warriors rallied to fight the Grimm once more. Waves of projectiles launched into the hordes of Salem’s army. A portion of the gunfire concentrated on the Witch’s serpent.

Never alone.

Part of Titan’s body phased out with a violent ripple. While the main maintained the beanstalk, a previous host wearing a silly-looking fez and bowtie stumbled clumsily onto the ground before popping back up.

“Ugh! Which one am I?” he began touching his face. “Nose, hair, FINGERS! Still got them! Yes! Excellent! You! The angry one with the eyebrows!”

“Excuse me?!” Glynda gasped.

“Yes! The thing you’re doing! The timey wimey!”

“The what?!”

“It could use more wimey! I’d do it myself but we need to conserve as much energy as possible, and this—“the man pulled out what appeared to be a sonic screwdriver from his tweed jacket. “—does not work on wood. But what it can do…! Whoopsie daisy!”

The man pointed it at Glynda’s wand, and she suddenly felt her spell refine and focus. Her time reversal spell accelerated the repairs of the beanstalk to match the speed of its destruction.

“‘Oh, he’s cool. He did a cool thing’. You’re making the ‘he did a cool thing’ face, by the way,” the man gloated.

“How…?! Who are you?!”

“I’ve gone by many names. Different body, different name. If I remember correctly, this one was…Doctor?”

“Doctor? Dr. Who?”

“Never get tired of hearing that one.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“Damn it! What the hell is that old lady thinking?!” Yang shouted her frustrations.

“Your godmother’s always been short a few screws. But this is worse, even by her standards,” Raven clenched her teeth. “Still, we can’t lose our composure. We both saw the vision. They should be able to hold out a little longer before the prediction comes to pass.”

Although her mother’s words were reassuring, there was an almost imperceptible quiver to her bottom lip. Yang could read the worry all over her face. An anxiety that threatened to swallow her if she didn’t constantly temper it.

“We’ll save her, mom. We’ll save Temujin.” She took Raven’s hand in hers.

“Yes, of course,” her mother sighed. “The question is how.”

“Can you slice us open a portal?”

Raven was about to say yes, when something held her tongue. There was a visible resistance to her movement. Invisible strings no one could see.

“Damn it!” she cursed. “It would count as direct interference against Salem! I can’t do it without breaking the contract!”

Yang tapped her in-ear communicator.

“Hey, operator. Did you get that?”

“Yeah,” Emerald answered. “Heard it all…!”

“How’s Neo?”

“Your wifey’s running on fumes like the rest of us. If you’re asking her to fast-track you back to the city, it ain’t happening right now. Just stay put, I called you guys an uber driver, who happened to be close by.”

“How are you and Merc?”

“We’ve got our hands full …!”

Yang heard gunfire in the background, as well as the random cries of bestial creatures.

“Em? What’s going on there?”

“Grimm. Lots of ‘em…! Trying to come through the crack Behemoth left in the wall. Also, some of its giant ass baby larvae are still around. Annoying fuckers.”

“How bad is it?”

“Let’s just say, we also got word parts of Salem’s armies are breaking off from the North and South to come here. So, uh, just a few shades shy of complete shitstorm.”

“And you need to hold there until more of Vacuo’s military makes it back. There’s no way you can help Temujin?”

“Not without letting Grimm overrun the city.”

“…Do you need me?”

“You won’t hear me say no, but... Your ride’s there.”

Just then, Yang and Raven spotted a light-traveling aircraft in the distance. In little to no time, its wing thrusters kicked up a wave of dust, as it came to a hover at the cliff’s edge.

The sidedoors opened to show Ilia.

“There better be a damn good reason I’m playing chauffeur in the middle of a fucking war, or you’re not getting on this boat.”

Yang only gave her a dead stare.

“Blake and Temujin.”

“…...Get on the fucking boat.”

.

X  X  X  X  X

.

Nai had never waged battle like this before.

The Grimm were intricately coordinated, their movements vastly complex. Whatever weakness certain species possessed were annoyingly paired with another species that could more or less compliment it.

There was an organization and strategy to the monsters Nai never thought possible. Not the Crusaders, not even his own people could achieve this level of coordination. It was a most formidable army, if it could be called that. A legion of darkness which surpassed imagination.

Who could control such a force of nature?

But the man already knew who. The one called, Bean. He would have gone after the enemy’s commander himself if he could pinpoint where the boy was. But as Nai stared out into the endless hordes of glowing red eyes, he knew such an idea was impossible.

We’ve managed to stall them somehow and Behemoth has been slain.

Better not to test our fortunes.

Retreat should be the priority.

The moment he finished the thought, a Moredread cleaved through the soldier beside him. It turned its attention the Khan’s way. The sword interlaced into the Grimm’s muscle fiber raised high once more.

Nai reacted immediately. He was well-versed in dealing with the Moredread. While they were fortified in a dark parody of medieval-like armor and literally armed with a claymore, they were not without weakness. The non-sword arm was a particular safe-zone to move to.

But as Nai strafed to the Moredread’s weakside, a scorpion’s tail almost stung him on approach. It was there, he noticed a baby Deathstalker wrapped around the knight’s gauntlet. With its top carapace facing outward and pincers snapping, it looked like some macabre shield.

Just then, a line of Moredread bearing Deathstalkers of their own, charged the front lines. They “shield bashed” the Vacuo vanguard, followed by a downward strike with their swords on any who lived through the first blow.  And just like that, the Kingdom’s battalions staggered.

This isn’t good.

The rhythm of our army is being disrupted.

As if drowning their fears with rage, a Faunus warrior gave a mad cry before rushing the Grimm’s shield wall. His squadmates followed, trying to pry a break in the formation. But with uncanny unison, the Grimm gave way to a small concave and decimated the squadron in two short blows. The line reformed like a watery surface.

“FALL BACK! TO THE CHASM!” Nai ordered immediately.

War drums and horns resounded. The battalions showed signs of wanting to continue, but eventually gave in to their leader’s instructions.

To stop the Grimm from pursuing, a small flock of airships flew overhead. Some were taken down by the flying Grimm in the process, but those remaining deployed bombs to cover their allies’ withdrawal.

Exploding Dust dotted the space separating Vacuo’s military and the Grimm. The monsters ignored their baser instincts by not pursuing mindlessly into the fire. In fact, holding their position until the conflagration dissipated somewhat.

Damn!

Not even the barest of losses given.

“Pan! Assist the retreat!” Nai passed additional orders.

“You’ve got it!” shouted a lively response.

The former Headmaster of Signal Academy pulled ahead of the battalions and activated his Gravity Semblance.

Ahead, separating the army from the city walls was a wide chasm. Nai had chosen this location for the battle specifically for that reason. It was one of the only natural obstructions protecting the city and the perfect place to cover a retreat.

As Vacuo’s army approached, gold lights enveloped them like tiny fireflies. Their steps became weightless, as they jumped the fifty-meter gap with ease. Pan’s Semblance, with the assistance of a godmother device, allowed the battalions to defy gravity and leap to safety.

Once they were all across, their ranged units set up coverfire for the aerial.

Now, we only need to worry about the Grimm in the sky for the moment, Nai thought.

It will take hours for the main host to maneuver the chasm.

…

In a safe distance away, Bean watched the progression of events from the view points of Grimm he was linked to.

Stratagem is well-adapted.

General Nai’s ability requires reassessment.

However.

The Grimm around the boy rushed past, making their own way to hit the city, but he paid them no mind. He only looked down at the flute held in his hands with a troubled gaze.

It was a disturbing little artifact. The instrument was dyed in a bold ebony finish. Varnished bone crusted the lip and finger holes. The cursed pipe was once a Nightmare Class Grimm classified as Hamelin. But after Salem’s experiments, she converted the Grimm’s original form into an object. A feat Bean found the Witch was all too familiar with.

Regardless, the boy pressed the recorder to his lips. A devilish melody was born as soon as he breathed life into it. The kind of music that enticed those who heard it to move and follow against their wills.

…

In that moment, Nai watched an eeriness pervade the other side of the trench. He wasn’t sure at first, but he thought he saw the sands moving.

Then the bright red eyes of the Grimm became clear. They were much smaller and quicker than the ones of Bean’s standing army. It was like a flood of glimmering rubies skittering across the ground. And like a flood, the bodies collected into a river.

The tiny Grimm latched onto each other, forming an extension into the chasm. Some of them fell into the abyss, while more continued to squirm into the construction connecting one side to the other. Nai could barely make out their figures now.

They were Ratten, a rat-type of Grimm. Usually nothing more than pests individually, but they did carry the potential to swarm and plague if left unchecked. But Nai couldn’t have known they would be used in this way, much less an army capacity.

“Take them out!” he ordered, snapping his soldiers out of their stupor.

Rows of guns were brandished in new formation, barrels leveled at an even angle. The concerted rings of Dust rounds being loaded into firing chambers traveled down the ranks. The shooters opened fire for a sparse two seconds, before great booms impacted across the way. Thunderous crashes fell among their numbers.

On the backs of giant rabbit Grimm, Moredread knights struck down at the crouching shooters. A circle of blood and death reaped in their unexpected surroundings. And before the Vacuo military could react, the Moredread’s mounts leapt to another section.

All the while, the Ratten finished the first of their bridges. The tiny scourge rushed Vacuo’s warriors immediately—engulfing, consuming, until there was nothing left but barebones and trace amounts of flesh.

Nai himself, was being blanketed by the critters. They bit into his poisonous body, and died, but took pieces of him with them. They were especially dangerous for the rest of his battalions. The Ratten’s small bodies made them difficult to hit, and when they did manage to find purchase, the Grimm’s large numbers easily made the deficit for any one killed.

Nai never doubted the courage of Vacuo’s people when they met adversity. No matter the situation, he knew their warriors would fight to their deaths. Armies lived and died by their morale, and his battalions would only fall with spirits high.

Still, he prayed silently that this would not be the end.

“Is there nothing left we can do?”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“Are you quite finished?” Salem scowled at her opponents.

The Witch didn’t have the same level of strategery Bean had, or the same room to maneuver, but her Grimm still displayed an uncanny coordination. The dark army was beginning to best the warriors of Vacuo in the Southern theater.

Titan recognized the way the scales were tipping. Their side was also aware of the dire situation playing out on the Northern front, as well as the impending hordes bent towards the city’s West Wall.

“I will be fine on my own!” the Magic Bean Seller yelled to his comrades.

The immortal’s appearance shifted to a man with jade-white, taoist robes. A feathered fan materialized in his hand, and he brought it up with a heavy motion.

The beanstalk entered a deadlock with the moon, while its roots solidified its foundation. A great many stone formations rose from the sand, extending across the battle line. The rock curved and split, trapping Grimm attempting to get through. When the construction finished, a stone sentinel maze separated the two armies.

“…Alright, I’ll give you that. Very impressive,” the Doctor said slightly perturbed, while putting away his screwdriver. “Used up a lot of our incarnations’ energies in that, but I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

He then, turned to Glynda and Minerva.

“We’ll hold off Wicked here. In the meantime, you should order your lot to reinforce the Western Wall. Oh, but the two of you have somewhere else to be…”

The man raised his brow to something behind them.

When they turned, they saw a mysterious green police box.

“Don’t worry, there’s enough room—”

“It’s bigger on the inside.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Another of their airships spun and crashed into a smoldering wreckage in the sand. The Grimm under it were smashed into nothing but ash. When the pilot exited the cockpit, he let out a fierce scream, fighting the monsters swarming him before succumbing to their endless claws and bites.

Nai was barely keeping the battalions together. He managed to pass orders between fending off the Ratten and the mounted Moredread, but it was obvious where the battle was headed. His people were quickly being overtaken.

There was a feeling of inevitably donning on him and his army. They could not outrun Bean’s Grimm, not by air or ground. It was becoming all too likely their forces would not only be routed, but wiped out entirely.

As Nai banished the thought for the umpteenth time, an odd undulating whir caught his attention. In the empty space where the sound came from, a rectangular object faded into existence. From the green box, two women stepped out.

With riding crop and wand in hand, they simultaneously cast a thunderous cloud over the whole area. The wide-range spell hailed ice and lightning across the swarms of Grimm. A counter to the numerous, but fragile bodies of the Ratten.

“Go!” Minerva shouted to Nai. “Gather our people back behind the walls and enact siege defenses!”

Nai nodded, and resumed ushering his armies to the city.

As she watched her fellow Khan retreat, Minerva couldn’t help but wonder.

Where is Temujin in all this?

She said she wouldn’t join us in the South, but she isn’t here either?

I know she didn’t take part in Behemoth’s extermination.

You senile buffoon.

“What in the hell are you thinking?!

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“Temujin, I’m so sorry,” Blake apologized with tears in her eyes.

“Hmph. What are you apologizing for, while swinging your sword in my face?!” Temujin snapped, as she used her cane to deflect another one of Blake’s blows.

The previously quiet throne room of the Hanging Gardens had turned into a private arena.

Temujin herself, faced her former proteges in Adam and Blake. The two always worked well together, their movements combined always produced a high-paced lethality. An aspect Raven and Temujin fostered themselves, to their current regret.

Adam dashed forward at an opening, but abruptly crashed to the ground. His body convulsed as he gasped with pain.

“Kill…ME…!”

His body was being torn apart by Temujin’s territorial Semblance, but only short of fatal. On the other hand, Blake moved freely to attack. The weakness of Temujin’s Semblance was exposed to them earlier, as it could not target more than one opponent at any given moment.

“KILL ME!” Adam coughed blood.

“Peh! Don’t give me orders, you brat!” Temujin scolded. “I don’t need to kill you or Blake in order to stop you. Don’t underestimate me!”

The elder Faunus stabbed her cane through Blake’s clone, before throwing an Aura-enhanced dart into Blake’s thigh when she reappeared. But the wound quickly healed with unnatural speed, forcing the dart out onto the floor. A dark mist billowed from the regenerated cut in the flesh.

“You have to kill us, Temujin,” Blake pleaded. “We can’t resist Salem’s control. There’s no other way!”

“No, I’m sure there is,” the elder disagreed easily.

“You’ll die if this keeps up! You can’t handle both of us at the same time!”

“Don’t be stupid. You two won’t be the end of me.”

Temujin glowered from the pair to the Rakis siblings fighting Camlann a certain distance away.

Seeing how they neglected Blake and Adam completely, it’s obvious what they saw in their vision.

So, I am to meet my end at the hands of Camlann, am I?

Temujin discerned the situation with an appraising glare. The siblings were obviously trying to keep the Grimm and her separate. She could imagine how it would likely play out. Death at the hands of her “supposed” mortal nemesis.

Rather fitting if the Grimm truly is the reincarnation of the Crusaders’ ill will.

Mouse, Knives, Summer.

I’ve carried on through so many misdeeds without so much as any care or regret.

My ego made weapons of my people to break against my enemies.

I can no longer fight properly, even as I send more lives to their early graves.

I cannot stand beside them at their final moments.

An old fool with a missing eye and leg.

There’s only so much until someone as stubborn as me gets the message.

It is no longer in me to fight the wheels of fate…

…

Camlann, king of the Moredread Grimm barreled down on the Rakis siblings like a warbound locomotive. Its stature was comparable to an Ursa, but its strength and arsenal were beyond any measure. With its grossly swollen sword and shield, it charged Mouse and Knives relentlessly like a mad bulldozer.

The siblings were small and light. Their blades vibrated with a magnetic hum, as they shrieked them across the Grimm’s armor. Usually their daggers could cut through the toughest bone, but it was not so in this case.

Knives and Mouse crisscrossed against its shield a second time. The sound of countless strikes could be heard, further evidenced by the sparks scattered from the friction. Camlann’s aegis was formed of the densest material layered over. And despite that, the Grimm dragged and swung it around as if it weighed nothing.

The flat boulder of the shield almost caught Knives with its edge, but the girl slipped just underneath it. She purposely baited the attack, dodged, and then brandished her karambit all along Camlann’s unprotected arm. But all the good it did, but cut shallow grooves into the Grimm’s armor.

The claymore came chasing after her, but Knives made her escape like a ghost, almost floating out of its range.

Mouse couldn’t stop but marvel at his younger sister’s movements. He was sure Knives’ consciousness was still in there, but Summer’s co-possession curbed her unnecessary tendencies. There was an experienced hand guiding his sister’s fighting style, as well as an unnerving agility that wasn’t present before.

“Mouse, I need you to follow my lead,” Summer said. “Use your short-term Precognition to match with me.”

“Do you have a plan? As this rate, we can’t defeat Camlann. The prediction is going to come true!”

“We don’t need to beat it, just stop it long enough for the others to get here.”

“And in the instance, they do make it in time. What could they possibly do?”

“Hm,” her sister flashed him an aged smile in a youthful face. “If there’s anyone who can defy the future, it’s them. It’s why I brought them here in the first place.”

“…I don’t have any choice but to believe that, don’t I?”

“Nope!”

And with that, Knives launched herself at Camlann once more, trailed closely by her brother.

…

Temujin watched the Rakis siblings’ fight from afar. She deciphered their intentions as clear as day. She also saw that they might die trying to save her.

Can’t have that.

Temujin locked her cane against Blake’s two swords. There was an obvious conflict in her opponent’s body. Blake was clearly trying to resist Salem’s influence. The strength of her and Adam’s attacks were only half, if it was that much. But it was still enough to keep Temujin in check.

“How do the contracts work, hm?” she asked, paying little mind they were crossing weapons. “It seems Raven has more leeway in her actions.”

“I can’t tell you…!” Blake struggled to reply.

“So long as she acts within the confines of her set conditions, she seems to be able to move freely. Are the contracts you and Adam hold by different in some way?”

“Adam and I broke our contracts…! This is the price of defying the Witch…!”

“Ah. Interesting. So the price of breaking your contracts is complete obedience? How faithful are you to her orders?”

“We don’t have a choice…! Our bodies are acting on their own…! That’s why you have to kill us!!!”

“I’m getting tired of hearing you say that. Back to the matter before, how faithful are you to her orders. What were they? Something along the lines of ‘do everything it takes to end Temujin’s life’?”

Blake scrunched her face, all but conveying the answer.

“I see,” Temujin nodded. “Well, then. What if I were to tell you the Rakis siblings foresaw the means of my demise? And it was Camlann who accomplished the deed. Not you or Adam.”

Blake blinked with confusion, before her consciousness shifted in and out of awareness.

“No!” she tried to shake her senses clear. “It’s a lie!”

“It’s not a lie. The best way to end my life is to let Camlann do it.”

“STOP IT!”

“In order to accomplish that, you should get Mouse and Knives out of the way.”

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!”

As angry as Blake was, Temujin felt the remaining strength fade from the girl’s swords. She stepped back in disbelief, making no impression of restarting the duel. Her actions completely outside her control.

“NO!” Blake shouted, trying to will her body forward.

But nothing came of it.

Temujin observed the phenomena a while longer, before confirming her suspicions.

Hm, I see their orders are a little easy to manipulate.

Just as well, I suppose.

Salem will get what she wants in the end.

Temujin let down her guard and released the territory binding Adam.

The young man got uneasily to his feet, wearing the same pained expression as Blake. Both showed a sorrowed disbelief at what Temujin was making them do.

“I’m sorry, Blake, Adam,” she said to the two in turn. “I am truly sorry it came to this.”

Against their wills, Blake and Adam set off for the other side of the throne room. The two joined the fight with the Rakis siblings.

“I am sorry.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

As Yang, Raven, and Ilia rode the airship to the city, they could see the harrowing situations unfolding from a distance.

There were Grimm pouring over the dunes to the North. Minerva, Glynda, and Nai were retreating with their armies and securing siege defense at the Northern Wall.

Titan was holding back Salem and her forces in the South. The retreating Vacuo army was setting up their own siege defense, while sending reinforcements to the Western Wall. And it was there, the three’s airship flew just overhead.

The burning carcass of Behemoth was still in the process of dissolving into the wind. Fiery wreckage dotted the break in the wall and a little into the city. Grimm were swarming through the gap, which fighters on the inside were making use of as a funnel. Though, even with the tactic in place, there were so many of the monsters filing through, the defending forces risked being overrun at any moment.

And there were more Grimm on the way.

Yang felt her stomach lurch as she tapped into her comms.

“Hey, Em! You there?!”

“Oh. That you idiots, up high?” Emerald’s radio crackled more than earlier. “How’s the view?”

“There’s more Grimm closing on the gap!”

“So, we figured.”

Below, they saw a herd of Boarbatusk Grimm roll into a spinning ball, and ram into the wall repeatedly. More of the structure collapsed at the impact. The break in the wall crumbled further.

“Emerald!!!”

“Yeah…! *Hkrgh!* Fuck! We saw…!”

Immediately, Yang saw three figures move to counteract the new influx of Grimm. They maneuvered to prevent the Boarbatusk from causing further damage. But as effective as they proved, their enemies were repeatedly surrounding them.

“EM!!! HEY!!!”

“Don’t worry about us! Just get to Temujin!”

“But what about you guys?!”

“We’ll hold the choke…! Get your ass over there already!”

“Emerald…”

“Don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, we’ll make a run for it…! We’re good at that, remember?”

“…Make sure you do.”

“Obviously…!”

Yang pretended not to notice how tired Emerald really sounded. She then, heard a few taps on the radio, which could only be from Neo.

“I love you too, babe. Let me know if I need to double back,” she replied. “I can’t lose you.”

“I know. I will,” Mercury interrupted.

“Haha…!” Yang chuckled. “Don’t die out there, Merc. Still need to open that weapons shop.”

“Yeah, which reminds me. We are getting paid for this gig, right? Make sure Temujin stays alive long enough to pay our reward?”

“You got it, bud.”

Yang waited a moment, before she turned her gaze from her team to the Hanging Gardens ahead.

She had been holding it out, but the deep sinking feeling in her chest was starting to give way. There was no telling when the Grimm would finally break through the West as easily as it could be from the North or South. The girl tightened her fist and felt Aura strain at her summons. She barely had anything left in the tank after Operation Gun Dog, Behemoth, and subduing Inna.

Yang long learned to never stop fighting until the very end, and in no way was her spirit dampened. But the truth was becoming clearer that today may be their day of days. If it was, she wondered if Cinder and Weiss would order Team ENMY’s retreat before then. She wondered if they would obey it if it came down.

Can we still win this?

Yang stared to the back of the cockpit, where Raven absentmindedly tapped the hilt of her sword with impatience.

No, we have to.

I don’t know how, but we will.

I don’t care how bad it looks or what future Mouse and Knives saw.

I can’t let things end this way.

I won’t!

As if reading Yang’s thoughts, Raven noticed her stare and nodded solemnly.

No.

I’m not the only one who won’t let things just end this way.

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Back at Atlas HQ, the Queen regents and Board of Directors watched the increasing direness of Vacuo’s situation with widened eyes.

“How far out are the reinforcement Fleet?” Cinder asked for the update.

“Fifteen hours ma’am,” the adjutant replied. “Three hours for the light transport sortie.”

The officer neglected to tell her it was probably the fifth time she asked in the last half hour. She could see the Black Queen was barely keeping herself from shouting the orders.

At that moment, a small blip ringed on her tablet.

“Ma’am…” the officer called uncertainly.

“What is it?”

“The light transport, Swordfish is requesting permission to proceed ahead of the group.”

“Patch them through.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a few key commands, the adjutant secured a line to the team onboard the Swordfish vessel.

“Hey, head honchos!” Coco Adel’s image flared on the projection. “Give Team CFVY the go already. With this ship, we should be able to make it within the hour.”

“Your team is tasked primarily with Team ENMY’s extraction, NOT as a reinforcement element,” Cinder snarled.

“Yeah, but you haven’t given them the order to tail it yet. So, what’s the fuss in letting us get there early and waiting?”

“And if they needed emergency evacuating, but you were neutralized while ‘waiting’. What, then?”

“We can still do our job and help Vacuo.”

“You’re only one team.”

“Weiss! I’ll cut my commission in half if you let us go right now!” Coco shouted.

Cinder turned to her fellow Queen, who had her eyes closed in deep thought. When she opened them, the girl glared right at Coco’s hologram, as if they were speaking in person.

“Nothing reckless! Your primary objective is to assist Team ENMY. Understood?”

“Loud and clear!” Coco whooped.

Weiss looked to the teammates behind her. The image was fuzzy, but she could see Velvet, Yatsuhashi, and Fox show signs of relief. It may have been her imagination, but she might have seen Velvet mouth a small thank you.

“Be careful, Team CFVY,” Weiss cautioned.

“Roger. Team CFVY out,” Coco confirmed.

The White Queen breathed a troubled sigh, intentionally avoiding Cinder’s gaze. Rather than waiting, she extended the first words.

“I think there was a fifty-fifty chance Team CFVY was going to disobey orders, and fly ahead.”

“I would have put the odds closer to eighty-twenty,” Cinder smiled.

Just then, a number of blips came in requesting communications.

“What is this?” Weiss muttered.

“M-ma’ams,” the adjutant started with a small hitch in her voice. “T-they’re requests to sortie ahead. All light transports are saying they are ready and willing to burn their fuel reserves to arrive at Vacuo ahead of schedule. The same requests are being made of General Ironwood and Captain Trafalgar of the main fleet.”

Weiss was struck silent for a moment.

“……If they do that, they won’t have enough Dust for the journey back should the worst happen.”

“They know, ma’am,” the officer nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “They’re aware and requesting permission.”

Weiss looked to Cinder for an explanation, but was only met with the same confusion. The officer then, patched the main projection into what the reinforcement Fleet was viewing.

They were images of Vacuo’s people fighting relentlessly against the Grimm, as they were being torn apart. Many raged, many cried, and they fought harder for the ally who fell mere moments ago, only a few feet away. There wasn’t a single warrior on the battlefield that wasn’t covered in wounds.

Another soldier fell. Her partner took their weapon and slew the Grimm with it. And then, they also died.

What precious few airships Vacuo possessed, dropped like flies. The pilots, who knew their deaths were imminent, made sure to steer their crafts so they would land among the enemy. Any survivors of the crash fought, while missing their limbs.

Emerald, Neo, and Mercury could be seen battling despite their exhaustion. They were surrounded and outnumbered, but held themselves to keeping the choke in the Wall under control. Nothing but the sheerest of wills moved them now. Blood stained their figures head to toe.

“Emerald…!” Cinder bit her lip.

She was ready to pick up the communicator and order their retreat. There was never a time she was closer to doing it than now.

…

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself—and she wasn’t all too sure why.

“Cinder.”

The Black Queen felt Weiss’ hand hold hers. The cool touch alleviated the pain she didn’t notice from her nails digging into her palm.

“They’ll be fine. Help is on the way,” Weiss told her.

“…I know.”

“They won’t fight alone.”

“No…”

“…They won’t.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Before Mouse could understand what was happening, dark mist clouded his sight. There was a violent vacuum that dragged his body across what felt like a world over. And then, his feet hit solid ground, sliding upon landing.

“No! What?!”

As he spun to take in his new surroundings, he recognized that he was somewhere in Vacuo’s bazaars. Empty stalls and vacant roads were all he could see. The residents and workers had long been evacuated to the bunkers.

His sight eventually settled on a large shadowy cat with smoke billowing its body. Mouse understood what had happened. Blake had warped him away from the throne room.

“NO!” he cried.

“I’m sorry,” a girl’s soft voice could barely be heard.

And then, Blake’s figure vanished with a puff.

…

Summer was at her wit’s end fighting Adam and Camlann at the same time. Using a body that wasn’t hers had its limits. She was also unable to access her Semblance.

As she dodged within a millimeter of having her head cut off by Camlann and her forehead sliced open by Adam, she made a hasty jump back. Summer touched a hand to her hair, and found it a few locks short.

No.

I’m cutting it too close.

If this wasn’t hard enough, if I get hurt once, Knives will wake up.

I’ll lose possession immediately.

As Knives curled her hands in frustration, she heard a voice come from the other side of the throne room.

“Summer!” Temujin yelled. “Stop risking her life!”

“And maybe you should stop trying to give up yours!”

“This is no joke! I will never forgive you if any harm comes to her! Do you hear me?!”

Even though it was Knives’ body, Temujin could see the outline of Summer’s appearance behind her. An older woman, with an overpowering presence despite a gentle nature. A calm determination that reminded her too much of Shepherd.

“You can’t just be brave for yourself, Temujin,” Summer said. “I used to think I was responsible for other’s lives too. But Raven, your daughter, taught me people’s lives are their own.” The woman smiled sadly. “And it’s always their lives to risk.  You have to have the courage to see it through on their behalf too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! This will be meaningless if I lose her. She and Mouse must lead our people.”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand. I’m pushing her body beyond what it’s capable of. Knives is asleep, but I can hear her. She’s screaming, begging me to fight harder—to push harder.”

“…”

“You may have given up, but she hasn’t. I want to grant her wish to its end.”

“Oh, you’re granting wishes now?”

A cloud of dark billowing mass exploded from the empty space and Blake emerged forth. The light in her eyes was glazed and distant. Her face was vacant of emotion, yet something seethed below the tone.

“Salem. Long time no see,” Knives greeted.

“Summer Rose.”

“Still have the spare time to chat, even while fighting Titan?”

“Please, the Old One possesses all the threat of a bothersome mosquito. In fact, I believe the only true adversary I have left in this pathetic remnant is the one standing before me.”

“Wow. Flattered, but I’m not really here,” Summer chuckled.

Blake went silent for a short moment.

“…How did you do it?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Summer grinned.

“I should have known. Raven couldn’t have broken the first contract on her own. You helped her. How?”

The little girl stared blankly back, before shrugging. As if to imply she still had no idea what the other was talking about.

“Hmph,” Salem scoffed. “I doubt you could perform that feat now. This isn’t your body.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Shall we test it?”

“I’m game, if you’re game, Sally.”

Blake glared with an intensity like she could burn a hole through her. But Knives only smiled back with the sort of fierce defiance only a child could have before a deity. It was a duel daring the other to make the first move. A decision to call Summer’s bluff, or concede.

“…Hm. I believe our fated moment will arrive soon enough,” Salem grinned. “A time where we won’t be communicating through proxies, but a meeting face-to-face.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Summer answered.

“Hmph.”

The Witch moved her gaze from Knives to someone past her.

“I believe this is the first time we’ve been formally introduced. I am—”

“I know who you are!” Temujin hacked a large spit to the side. “You’re some dusty, ancient cunt, who wants to be forever young by possessing younger people.”

…

…

…

The figure of Knives bent over, clutching her stomach in pain. Summer was trying to stifle her uncontrollable laughter, but was failing. Abrupt snorts escaped through the hands and they would not stop.

“I knew I’d find you insufferable,” Salem scowled.

“And I knew you’d be a boring, pretend-goth, edgelord!”

“…”

More painful cries from Knives echoed the silent throne room.

…

“You like that?!” Temujin glowered. “Ilia taught me that one. I have no idea what it means, but it felt right. And it felt good.”

“Are those truly the last words you wish to part your life with?” Salem asked.

“I have a few more. There’s a list somewhere.” The elder woman started patting her clothes. “Must’ve misplaced it. Had some other good ringers for you.”

“Enough.”

In that moment, three things happened at once. At the Witch’s command, Camlann charged Temujin with his claymore thrust towards her head. The blow was stopped by Summer, who barely caught the sword between two daggers. But her strength alone would have been easily overwhelmed. The only thing that kept her from dying was Temujin activating her Semblance.

The Grimm knight groaned with an unearthly bellow through the slits of its mouthguard. Its surrounding environment worked to kill it, but as testament to its strength, it did not collapse like so many others. Camlann had more than a hardiness found in many of its class. Its entire entity was birthed by the malice held towards Temujin. The final breath of countless Crusaders, who cursed the Great Khan’s name.

In a sense, Camlann was the pinnacle of what a Grimm was.

Even in the face of Temujin and Summer’s combined strength, the monster made one heavy step forward after another. And with that single repeated motion, strained everything Temujin and Summer had.

While the contest of wills proceeded, Blake paid the scene with a light applause.

“A valiant effort. Almost poetic.”

““…!””

Neither Temujin or Summer could muster a comeback. Stressful breaths escaped them in short, stuttering heaves. Sweat coated their skin with increasing fatigue.

“This is exactly reflective of our so-called War. You cannot possibly win, yet you struggle nonetheless. Allow me to enlighten you on a little fact, Temujin.”

“…”

“I know full well what your death will bring. The Faunus will cry with outrage. They may even fight my Grimm back for a time. I very much expect it.”

“…”

“But hold no illusions with you, when you make your journey into the afterlife. Vacuo’s time is over. Its end is not just a certainty, but an eventuality.”

“…I’ll…! Kill…! You…!”

“Tsk tsk. Offer your life to the masses as much as you like—”

“For there will be no victory in strength.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Emerald was reaching her breaking point.

Her Semblance was stressed to its absolute limits. There were too many minds, too many senses she was coordinating at once. She was constantly flirting with the threshold of a complete brain meltdown. But at the sign of five Vacuo soldiers watching a new break in the Wall form, she pushed her Enchantments harder.

Emerald tried to separate her physical perception from her mental, but she couldn’t shut out the cluster headaches that formed. Her nose was bleeding, practically able to hear the little droplets touch the ground. She inadvertently shuffled her feet, because she almost lost conscious along with her balance. Her shoe knocked slightly against one of the four Godmothers she burned through.

The Western Wall was crawling with Grimm. Its Dust lining worn through the endless tidal waves of creatures sacrificing their bodies against it. The turrets, which used to be the main deterrent, had long been destroyed. And more Grimm climbed over the ramparts with each passing second.

Still, the warriors of Vacuo defended the choke point. Mercury and the other aerial units took down countless of their flying counterparts. Neo was reduced to using the bare minimum to slay the Grimm with the other foot soldiers. Nothing but her physical agility and swordsmanship to commit, but hundreds of their foes fell nonetheless by it.

Emerald felt a stray bone projectile cut her cheek, and almost slipped her mental link. The warriors she coordinated with, sensed it and immediately went to shield her. No care given to their pre-existing wounds.

It was a desperate battle. A miracle in itself they were somehow managing with the forces they had. News over the comm channels told them the North was facing a similar assault, but without the gap in their Wall.

“Em, you need a break!” Mercury told her.

“And who’s going to make this work if I don’t?”

“This fight isn’t going to end any time soon. We’ll need you for the rest of it.”

“Yeah, except Bean’s putting his focus here. I can tell by how the Grimm are moving. If he’s masterminding these fuckers, the only way we hold him off is I keep masterminding our guys back!”

“We can brute force it till you catch a breath.”

“…Oh, hallelujah. Guess I’ll be getting that break after all. You and Neo get your asses back here too.”

Mercury didn’t have to ask why Emerald had a sudden change of mind. About a dozen Atlesian light crafts answered the question for him. One particularly silver-nosed ship, the first to arrive, rained a relentless barrage of machine gun fire from above.

Androids were deployed all around the funnel area, providing support to Vacuo’s warriors and Team ENMY.

After the Grimm’s waves were subdued somewhat, Emerald noticed a lessened coordination. Bean diverted his attentions back to the North theater, as soon as Atlas reinforcements arrived.

“Fffffuck…!” Emerald retracted her mental links and staggered back a few steps. “About freakin’ time these guys showed up.”

Behind her, the Swordfish landed. From its passenger doors, a team of familiar faces stepped out.

“Hey, Emmy~♪ Been a while, huh?” Coco waved. “Do we get a thank you for pulling your ass out of the fire?”

“If I remember right, we should be square from some shit back in Atlas.”

“Nah, you’re remembering wrong. I’ll send you an invoice for our services later.”

“Asshole.”

“Come on. You know you can’t let money stand between good friends.”

“That’s exactly something I would do, and is that what we are?”

As Team CFVY approached, Mercury and Neo joined Emerald. The two teams crossed, and a number of high-fives were exchanged.

“Tag, you’re in,” Emerald groaned.

“Take a knee, kiddo. You’ll owe me,” Coco grinned.

“You guys got energy drinks in that thing?” Mercury pointed to the Swordfish.

“I would not drink it. They taste awful,” Yatsuhashi replied.

“The worst tasting ones are the best ones.”

“That is…completely untrue.”

“Thanks so much for your hard work, you guys,” Velvet said with heartfelt gratitude.

Neo smiled tiredly, and gave her a light pat on the butt.

“Ah!”

Go get ‘em.

“Er, yes. We will!”

Trading places with ENMY, Team CFVY went into the siege defense with a furious motivation. Meanwhile, Emerald and the rest of her crew collapsed into the Swordfish’s interior.

They knew their break would only last half an hour at most. The main Atlesian Fleet was still far away. What reinforcements arrived would not hold out until then by themselves.

Mercury knocked over a nearby cooler, and started draining energy drinks into his open mouth.

“Dude…” Emerald could only comment.

“Don’t judge. You want one?”

“No.” She eyed a thermos with her name on it, along with the price of five-thousand lien written jokingly at the end. “Coco’s special ice coffee. Good shit.”

Neo rummaged through the cooler and found a few ice cream bars set aside for her. It appeared Velvet had left a thank you note next to it as well.

As their team took their long-deserved break, they practically inhaled what they considered their late lunch. Too tired to eat, but forced whatever they could into their stomachs. They watched from a safe distance as the Wall remained a desperate battlefield, ready to jump in at any moment.

There was no talk. They couldn’t afford to. And their thoughts of Yang were obvious, and didn’t need voicing.

It was everything they could do to recover and then will themselves back into the fray.

Half an hour. A time that passed all too quickly, and at the same time, not fast enough. They would not rejoin the fight if they had a choice. No one in their right mind would.

But what they wanted was not what the world needed. Vacuo needed its warriors. Remnant needed its Enemy.

Mercury chucked another empty can into the street, before he began chugging a new one midstride. Emerald stretched her neck and pressed her knuckles to her temples. Neo moved silently, without any excess motion.

She bade one look in the direction of the Hanging Gardens. Even if it was brief, catching a glimpse of Yang was enough to lift her spirits.

“Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked,” Emerald sang.

“Money don’t grow on trees.

I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed.

There ain’t nothin’ in this world for free.

Oh no, I can’t slow down, I can’t hold back.”

“Though you know, I wish I could.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“No, there ain’t no wish for the Wicked. Until we close our eyes for good~”

Salem murmured the last part of the song, while watching the events swirl around her. The landscape around them drifted in and out without rhyme or reason. A world at a crossroads of all the available paths fate could turn.

She stared at the multiple incarnations of Titan littering the ground. Each with bated breath, trying to stay conscious after their lengthy fight, which eventually brought them to the Never Realm.

Salem waved her hand and summoned the events happening around Vacuo like multiple memories playing out.

Her army in the South resumed its march after dragging Titan out of the physical plane. Vacuo’s Northern Wall was facing heavy siege from the Grimm under Bean’s command. And now, more of her forces were being committed to the crack in the West.

“And, so falls the great and mighty titan,” she said with sarcastic flair.

“I’ve lived long enough,” the Old Ones responded in unison.

“I wasn’t speaking of you. I was referring to Vacuo and…” With another wave of her hand, Hanging Garden’s throne room surrounded them. “…her.”

Camlann was advancing ever so slowly. Summer mustered every strength she could to stop the blow from reaching Temujin, and Temujin was doing all she could to save Knives.

“This is the part where you would normally run. So, why haven’t you?”

Titan’s bodies felt the Witch’s curse quicken in their blood streams.

“…You truly mean to die.”

“Hah…! You sound almost disappointed with my defeat!” the Old One spat back. “I thought you would be delighted.”

“Oh, I am. I just assumed there were still a few more vain attempts in you before the end. Some last-ditch efforts, but alas—I once again find myself overestimating my age-old adversary. As if my impression of you could be any lower.”

“This fight has been over for me…long before Vacuo.”

“Indeed,” she sighed. “Look at them all, Titan. So small. Their very conceptual awareness is flawed.”

“Is it? I rather think it is the opposite.”

“This world is at an end. It’s been at its end for a while, before they were even born. Remnant is a ghost, a flawed byproduct of a figment that was never meant to be. You know this better than anyone.”

“What I know is wrong.”

“You still believe?”

Salem made the images spin like a twisted carousel. Every life lost in real time flashed before their eyes. Bodies going cold, the souls leaving their vessels, the last beat of their hearts before their final breath extinguished.

“They are entertaining little creatures. So weak, but very much entertaining,” the Witch admitted.

“Yes, they are. As weak as possible, but also as strong as when it requires. Never too much, never too little. Just right,” the Wizard rasped.

Salem cocked her head with suspicion. A paranoia flitted her expression, before she shook it away.

“No, this is enough. In Oberon’s memory, in your brother’s memory, I thought I could hold one decent conversation with you before you died. But true to form, you speak of nothing but foolish drivel.”

“Feeling lonely? The only immortal left will be Masa.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to cope with your loss.”

““Hahaha!”” an echoing cacophony of the reincarnations laughed.

In the midst of the immortals’ banter, one reincarnation separated Qrow from the others. The two had fled the battlefield ahead of time, and masked their presence.

“It’s about time you made your exit, Qrow.”

“What are you talking about, Oz? This isn’t the deal.”

“The rest of us will manage on our own. Your task is far from over.”

Ozpin took Qrow’s hand, and pressed something into it. The veteran Huntsman turned it over, examining it with intense curiosity.

It was a gold knight chess piece. A familiar artifact Qrow had seen once before. Something he spotted in the corner of Team RWBY’s dorm back at Beacon. Apparently, they had been used as Relics in their entrance exam.

“You know, I’ve granted so many wishes over the years,” part of Ozpin and part of Titan mused. “This may be the first time I’ve entrusted another with my own.”

“Titan…” Qrow could only mutter.

“Please, bring this to Yang Xiao Long. This is my final request.”

“……What is it?”

“Hm.”

Ozpin put a hand to his chin and chuckled lightly.

“I believe your niece referred to it once as,”

“A cute little pony.”

…

…

The reincarnations all paused in their laughter. They sensed Qrow leave the Never Realm, making for the Hanging Gardens in his shapeshifted form. Their Relic firmly in his possession.

“I’m a bit tired,” Titan sighed. “But I think I do have one more ‘vain attempt’ in me,” he smirked at Salem.

The Wizard arranged quick transportation for Taiyang Xiao Long with his last bit of influence on the physical world.

And with that, I have fulfilled the wish Summer made to me, which I refused so long ago.

If only I had tried to grant it from the beginning, maybe I wouldn’t have pushed her away.

Too late for that now, I suppose.

Together, the reincarnations of the Old One rose to their feet. A reverent green light encompassed them all. Their expressions steeled with a hallowed resolve.

“SO, THE END COMES!”

The swarm of past lives attacked the Witch like an army bent on its own destruction.

And the death of the Immortal Titan came to pass.

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Blake blinked.

Her pupils dilated and readjusted, while in the throne room. She opened and closed her hand to test her reflexes. The sensation of the possession was now completely different.

Ah, so he destroyed the vessel with that last move.

Vain attempt, indeed.

Merely accelerated my transference to this one.

The Witch gave a low, rolling laugh.

Before her, was still the stalemate between Temujin, Summer, and Camlann. Adam was the only one to really notice the change in Blake.

Salem could barely control herself. She couldn’t stop laughing. Her shoulders shuddered and her cheeks were starting to feel sore. And then, she noticed something odd, which put an end to her fit.

Light tears trickled down her face.

…

…

…Am I actually mourning that old fool?

I hated him.

And, still.

“I’ve had enough of this,” the Witch growled. “I am growing tired as well…old friend.”

She bit her lip, and was overcome with emotions she hadn’t felt in centuries.

“We will find our peace. You, your brother, and I. Not in this lifetime…”

“…but the next.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

“You’ve done enough, Summer!” Temujin shouted at the small back defending her. “Take Knives, and leave!”

“I won’t!” Summer refused. “I have promises to keep…!”

“You need to let whatever needs to happen, happen. You said yourself, other people’s lives are to do with as they please.”

“That’s only true for people still willing to fight! You resigned to your fate, so it doesn’t count…!”

Temujin could feel her Semblance waning, while she argued with Summer. There would soon be nothing to stop Camlann from running Knives through, and herself after. She wondered what else she could say to plead the woman into leaving. She wondered if it was possible at all.

“Summer…please. Take Knives and go.”

“The answer is still no,” Summer shook her head vehemently. “Nope!”

“You’re so foolish. I’ll never forgive you.”

“Nope! The stupid thing would be to leave you here on your own. And that’s a mistake I’ve already made…!”

“…”

“Nope! We can still do the right thing!”

Knives and Summer’s eyes shone with a twinkling silver. A vision of the future was deviating from its set course. The memory shaped and aligned to something Summer once saw in a dream. Yang and Raven were close. Qrow was on his way. Taiyang was exiting a green police box outside.

“They’re going to be here soon, Temujin. If you want to give up after this, that’s fine because I might actually join you. But not before my team’s had their turn!”

“…What are you talking about?”

Summer’s mischievous grin grew from ear to ear.

“STRQ Team’s last mission!”

[k-renne]

II

Chapter II

Previously: I

a/n: If you catch the movie reference I make you’re awesome, hope you enjoy

Kylo woke up in a cold sweat, another nightmare. He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair, he felt the sleep deprivation weighing heavy on him, urging him just to lay back down. Instead, Kylo willed himself to get out of bed, deciding to start his day before dawn. He’d have to make more sun potion but he’d make it, anything was better than the horrors he saw when he closed his eyes.

After finishing some chores and a few more requests, Kylo decided to check on you and see if anything had happened. He was worried about you, all vulnerable out in the middle of the woods. Sure he was as well, but he had many ways to protect himself and few would dare to go after him. You on the other hand, were an easy target.

He thought back to yesterday, to your seeming innocence of who he was. It was refreshing really, not to be looked on with disgust or fear, called some kind of demon. However there fear was probably smart, he was an extremely gifted magic user, made even more powerful by his use of dark magic. It was…frowned upon, but Kylo found something attractive about the dark. It had always fascinated him, ever since he was young it was like he was destined to fall into it to the behest of his family of light magic users.

He was hardly paying attention when he a strong whiff of blood overcame his senses, he felt a twinge of panic when he realized that it smelled very familiar. Sprinting to the source, Kylo was horrified to see you lying in a pile of your own blood. Please be alive, you can’t be dead, please. This is all my fault, I should have never…she’s alive! Kylo’s thoughts ran a mile a minute as he quickly swooped you into his arms, running back to his home to help you.

Whatever curse had fallen upon you, was a deadly one. Kylo hadn’t seen this type of magic in a long time, there was only one who would do such a thing like this.

He lays you on his bed, and immediately sets to work on you. He wets your lips with a few drops of black birch oil to stop the bleeding, you were still on death’s door but this would buy him some time. You released such a weak and small whimper that Kylo wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t listening, but he does and his heart almost breaks. You must be in so much pain, poor girl. To soothe you he gives you a powerful sedative, forcing your body to rest and recuperate.

He carefully cleans off the blood, doing his best not to invade your privacy. A few drops of sweet syrup and water of life keep your body from giving out. Kylo rushes to his workbench, beginning to research the curse. He had to counteract it, as these were all temporary solutions and the longer he waited the more damage that would be done.

He promised himself that he would never open this book again, as the pages within still haunt him. But for you, he would look through the Necronomicon, no matter how much misfortune it would bring him. It was stupid of him to steal it from Snoke in the first place, and he regretted the only spell he cast from it deeply. Yet the only way to counteract a curse like this is to know it so that he could break it.

The Necronomicon was a tricky text, it would often try and deceive the reader and make it incredibly difficult for them to find what they were looking for. Words would rearrange themselves, even switch languages, and reading them would take a great toll on the reader though the ones most sinister embraced it’s side effects willingly.

Kylo worked late into the early hours of the next day, without break, until he found what he was looking for. He scrambled to fetch the ingredients which he luckily had, quickly making an antidote. The curse itself was far worse than he thought, and he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with it’s aftermath. To take something like that away…you at least deserved a choice in the matter. At least, you’d be alive.

He didn’t sleep much last night, maybe dozed off for ten minutes by the fire, but his mind quickly found something more important to occupy his time. When he wasn’t caring for you, he was pacing around his bed, wringing his hands and just praying to any god that would have him that you’d be alright.

When he does sleep, images from the Necronomicon haunt him, violently latching onto his fears and feeding off of them. Stoke the fire. A few drops on your lips. Pace. Repeat.

Kylo was hardly taking care of himself, running off of a hefty concoction of potions to keep himself awake. After a few days he decides to change your clothes anyways, because the smell of blood still lingers on them and it bothers him immensely. Of course he looks away while he does it, fumbling with your dress and flinching back when he feels the skin of your bare breast. At least he didn’t see anything. He gives you an old black tunic to wear and washes your undergarments.

He’s blushing as he looks at the pink lace in his hands but nonetheless continues to scrub them on his washboard and again when he sees them hanging over his fire. He certainly wished he was washing them under different circumstances, because it was just so intimate, something he had never really experienced with anyone. All of his encounters with people were business like, cold and unfeeling. Seeing you yesterday had peaked his interest in something he hadn’t thought about in a long time.

Kylo was so relieved to see signs of life from you, from turning your head to more visible breathing, you were finally recovering. It took time, it was a few days more before you opened your eyes and another after that before you could speak. “Kylo,” You rasped.

“Y/N! It’s a pleasure to hear your voice.” He was so happy he could kiss you right now. You weakly smile to him and he rushes over to you to cradle you in his arms, overcome with joy that you were coming back to him. “I was so worried, you were so close to death and you’re still very weak. Please, rest as much as you can,” He urges.

You want to say no, that it’s already enough that he’s been caring for you for however long you were out. But your voice is to weak to say so many words and you can barely lift your head, so instead you use your strength to simple nod and close your eyes again.

Later, Kylo feeds you and helps you go to the bathroom. You’re surprised that he’s willing to do such a thing, and quite embarrassed, but he very respectful and you appreciate his help nonetheless as it was better than making a mess of yourself.

“May I read to you?” He asks. You nod with as much eagerness as you can muster. The sound of his voice is velvety and warm, and you don’t think you could ever get enough to it. You can hardly pay attention to what he’s saying, and after a few pages you fall back asleep. Kylo chuckles at you, next time he’ll have to choose something more stimulating.

The next day you feel strong enough to stand and ask Kylo if you can take a bath. “I don’t know Y/N, I’d have to help you.” He bites his lip. He really did not think he’d be able to handle seeing you nude.

“I know, but still I feel absolutely disgusting and I can’t go a minute longer without bathing. I must smell terrible to you.” You shake your head.

“Are you worried about what I think? It doesn’t bother me at all, and I’d rather not invade your privacy which I’ve already overstepped.”

“Well I don’t care either and I want a bath, so if you don’t help me I’ll do it myself,” You get out of bed, almost falling to your knees before Kylo catches you. “Fuck.” You curse. Your legs are weak after not using them for so long.

“To the bath it is,” Kylo sighs. He looks you in the eye as he helps you undress, though he was very tempted to look down. He fills the bath with a lot of bubbles, until he can’t see anything but your face peaking out from under.

“Did you have to use this many bubbles, this is ridiculous?” You ask incredulously.

“Yes. Do you want me to wash your hair?” He offers. And that’s all he’s doing, hopefully the hot water and soap should be enough to cleanse the rest of you. It was a great test to his self control, as Kylo thought of many ways he could seduce you like this. Maybe one day he’d get the chance, not today.

He lathered soap into your scalp, and began to gently wash you hair. You closed your eyes and laid back, enjoying the massage. “You better not fall asleep,” He warns. It would be very difficult to get you out of the tub that way.

“I’ve always wanted a bathtub like this,” You say wistfully.

“Hmm well when you’re my size a smaller one isn’t really an option,” He muses, and Kylo sure did love his baths.

“I bet you could fit two people in here,” You joke. Though Kylo thinks you mean something different. Before he can say something he regrets, he dumps water on you to wash out the soap. “Hey!” Kylo laughs, before pouring more water on you.

You turn around and scrunch your face at him, before splashing water at him. He just laughs even more, as you drench him with water. Suddenly he goes silent, eyes widening, your breasts pressed up against the tub and he could see your backside as the bubbles popped away. Kylo clears his throat, “I think it’s time to get out, can you empty the tub?”

For now, he’ll try and pretend he didn’t just see that. But realistically that image will be burned into his mind, and he’ll definitely think of it later. You didn’t seem to notice at all either, at least if you did you were completely unashamed of it which might be even more attractive. He turns his head as he holds a towel up for you, as you feebly make it out of the tub. You feel faint so you rest against him, and he wraps an arm around your waist to support you.

You sit on the bed and Kylo can’t help but admire you, the way water droplets bead on your skin, how the heat of the water adds pink to your skin, you looked like an angel in that white towel of his. He helped you dress, looking away as he put your legs through your underwear. His face must be beet red right now with how hot he feels.

This night you eat dinner together, laughing as you joke and tease one another. Kylo will miss your company when you leave, and continues to urge that you’re weak so you stay longer. He didn’t want you to leave him, not just yet.

“Kylo, please sleep tonight. I can see exhaustion clearly on your face. There’s plenty of room in this bed.” You plead.

“That would not be wise, besides what if something could happen to you?”

“Even if something does, you’ll be more prepared if you’re alert and not tired.” You emphasize the tired part. Kylo sighs before disrobing and joining you under the covers. You can’t help but admire his form, the way the fire casts shadows on his muscular back. His broadness and form that drips with power is even more attractive than you could imagine under those robes.

“Happy?”

“Yes” You smile to yourself. Kylo turns to face away from you, still keeping his eyes open to stay alert and watch out for you. But under his soft sheets and against his comfy mattress he can’t help but submit to sleep, worries slipping away into white noise.

[filiusinanis-blog]

Kingdom Hearts: The Next Generation

Chapter 1 - I burn a man alive

Okay, I know the title sounds bad but I can explain.

My name is Skylar Cameron Akari. I’m fourteen years old, and I live on the Destiny Islands. It’s a small world, made up of a large mainland with a single town, and a smaller island just off the coast, where the younger kids usually play. Myself included.

I’m nothing very special, just a short kid with dyed blue and pink pixie cut hair, with several ear piercings and a plan to get myself my own tattoo when I’m old enough for my dad to allow me. My closet consists of mainly black, blue, and the odd pink clothing. Mostly just jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies. A beanie hat here and there. Nothing special, just a normal teen. Tween. Whatever fourteen is considered. The only thing that could be considered ‘special’ about me, is my intelligence and my affinity for magic.

Oh yeah, did I mention that magic is a thing that exists?

While the particular world I live on isn’t exactly magic central( Our local school isn’t Hogwarts, unfortunately ) my family’s more than adept in the art. As well as other things, but we’ll get into that later. That being said, my dad and uncle have taught me plenty. As soon as I voiced interest in it, they were teaching me all kinds of little spells. And as my interest grew, my training was turned over to my Aunt, who excelled in the craft. I couldn’t tell you how much I loved learning to use it. Although, I couldn’t help but feel like I never had a real reason to use it...

Until my fourteenth birthday, that is.

It started like all my birthday’s do. With my dad and sibling making me this huge breakfast, consisting of chocolate chip and blueberry waffles, an assortment of toppings( Including Candy Corn, my personal favorite. Sue me. ), home made vanilla milk( The only acceptable type of milk. ), and a chocolate cupcake with peanut butter icing. Because Darrien, my sibling, is highly allergic to peanuts, we can’t have a full big cake with such icing. However, since it’s my favorite they insisted on at least making me a cupcake.

Anyway I made my way out of my room and downstairs into the kitchen. Typically I stay up all night talking and writing with friends on the internet, so naturally I was dead tired. Excited, but dead tired. I rubbed my eyes as I moved into the kitchen, groggily mumbling a small, “G’morning...”

“Hey! There he is! Mornin’ kiddo.” My dad gave me his signature grin, turning his attention away from the waffles to greet me. My dad’s name is Sora. Sora Akari. He used to travel to all kinds of worlds. He even saved them a couple times. He’s got brown hair and blue eyes, and typically wear jeans, converse, a long sleeve shirt and a plaid un-buttoned button-down over-shirt( try saying all that five times fast ). He’s incredibly too kind for his own good. Although, that doesn’t mean he’s easily messed with. He’s a keyblade master. He’s got so much combat experience, and it shows. He’s strong, wise, and you should see him fight. I’ve only ever seen it once, but he has special forms he can go into in case he needs a bit of a power boost. Apparently the one I saw was his strongest-- Final Form. ‘Course, fighting a war for three to four years took a negative toll on him too. He’s jumpy, especially with loud noises( fire works don’t sit well with him ), and I know for a fact that he still as nightmares at night.

“Ha! Looks like someone stayed up all night on tumblr again.” Darrien grinned, giving a small wave of her wrist to show off her pink bracelet. My sister is genderfluid, and recently came out just two years ago, so that year for her birthday I gave her a special bracelet that changes color according to what gender she’d feeling every day. She’s able to change it by just saying “Today I am ____”. I hate stereotyping colors with genders, but we both agreed that it’d be easiest if we just went with pink blue and grey.

Anyway, my sister Darrien is four years older than me( Already in senior year. Lucky buggar. ), has red hair like our mom, and looks uncannily like dad. She usually wears a white t-shirt with red and orange paint splattered on it( or any of her other splatter painted shirts ), her favorite red and orange striped vest, a pair of either white or light blue jeans( usually with some sort of paint splotch on them ), and a pair of red sneakers. She’s reckless, emotional, overprotective, and always has some kind of bandage on her person. She’s got a little scar on the right side of her lips from a stunt she pulled with some of her friends. She loves to paint and craft, even if she’s not very good at drawing. Most of our time together consists of our projects. She’s also a seriously good hair stylist. She’s the only one I trust to do my hair.

“You’re one to talk... You’re the one i was up writing with.” I yawned stretching my arms over my head, “Just ‘cause your a fountain of energy...”

She laughed, ruffling my hair a little, “Alright alright. C’mon, let’s eat breakfast so we’re not late for school.”

All three of us moved out of the kitchen, seating ourselves at our little round table to eat our breakfast. As per tradition, my dad and sister sang to me and let me eat my cupcake before my waffles. We laughed, joked, teased at one another, and all around just had a merry morning as usual.

By now you may have noticed something missing in my little family. I haven’t mentioned my mother at all. Reason being that she apparently went missing when I was only two years old. I was too young to remember her, but I’ve seen pictures and dad told me a lot about her. She had red hair and deep blue eyes, and she was kind beyond belief. She was always doing anything she could to help someone in need. And from what I hear from dad, she’s a fighter too. She takes no sherbet( Darrien and I have resolved to replacing cuss words with food names ), and fights even fiercer than my father. I wish I could’ve met her. The way dad talks, I can tell that she may not be dead. Or at least, he doesn’t believe she is. Just missing. He’s even taken frequent trips to try and find her.

As we ate we did another tradition: letting me open one of my birthday gifts( from each of them ) before the party that night. Darrien gave me a small gift with a new hand-crafted choker in it. Definitely one I’d be wearing to school that day. But this time my dad just grinned, “Sorry kiddo, but I’m gonna have to break tradition a little this year. What I’ve got for you is something that I’m gonna have to give you later tonight.” He gave me a wink, which only served to get me very curious.

I puffed out my cheeks, “Whaaat? You can’t tell me what it is? You’re killing me with suspense here!” My tone was overdramatic, intended to get a laugh out of my father and sister. My sister gave a snort while my dad just chuckled.

“You’ll just have to wait! I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

I blew a few raspberries, earning a laugh from both of them. After eating Darrien and I got ourselves dressed and ready for school. I got really lucky. Today was not only my birthday, but it was the last day of school before summer break too. The perks of being a June baby I suppose. We said our goodbyes to dad, racing off to meet up with Kirimi and walk to school.

I couldn’t have known that I wouldn’t be seeing that house for a long time.

I couldn’t have known that I’d never get that birthday party.

I couldn’t have known that My life was going to be changing forever after today.

If I’d known that, I would’ve insisted on staying home, spending time with dad, and making every minute count.

------------------------------

“Kirimi!”

I heard Darrien shout as she ran ahead of me, waving to a girl up ahead. Her name was Kirimi. She’s our older cousin-- Much older actually. She’s twenty-one. She has curly shoulder-length silver hair, teal eyes and she’s very tall. Very tall. She wears mostly yellow. Yellow skinny jeans, grey tank top, and a vest that used to belong to her dad, Uncle Riku. She’s pretty darn athletic too. She was on a bunch of sports teams in school and was one of the best players. She spars a lot with Darrien, and both of them suckered me into learning swordplay as well. She’s also a keyblade wielder. Her dad did the inheritance ceremony with her a couple years back. I was still pretty young, so i don’t remember much of it. Darrien’s had the inheritance ceremony done with him too, but his blade hasn’t come to him yet.

“Hey kid! Ready to head to school?” Kirimi grinned as we caught up with her, pushing herself off the wall she’d been leaning on.

“Heck yeah! Finally, I’m gettin’ out of school!!” Darrien’s excitement was easy to hear in her voice. Now that she was done with school, she’d be able to spend more time training than studying.

“Lucky. I’ve still got four years left.” I huffed, folding my arms. Aaand the cons of being the youngest.

My sister laughed and ruffled up my hair dashing ahead of Kiri and I, “Don’t worry, you’ll breeze right through it! You’ll do a heck-of-a lot better than I did anyway!” She laughed, running off and forcing both Kirimi and I to start running after her.

The run to school wasn’t anything exciting. Just our normal race to the school yard. And yet as I ran I could swear I felt eyes on my back, watching me as I made my way to the building. And other day I’d simply write it off as paranoia, or maybe just as one of my monsters checking up on me( More on that later )... But this feeling was incredibly different. It wasn’t just that dark presence that I’ve come to sense in my monsters. It was cold and sinister. Dripping with malice and a strong urge to harm. The emotion in the stare was so real, I knew it had to be.

Even so, as I stopped to check the surrounding area every now and again, time and time again I saw nothing but normal passerby; everyone hurrying to and fro to get to work, meet up with friends, or just lounge around the town. No matter how many times I turned, the gaze was always on my back. Looking back I realize I was pretty stupid for not telling Kirimi and Darrien this. If I had, maybe we’d have ended up in a better situation.

But, instead of doing the smart thing and warning them, I brushed off whatever concern they showed and simply continued my way to school. Once the three of us reached the schoolyard, Kirimi wished us a good day and left to begin her training with Uncle Riku. Darrien and I went to our separate classes, and somehow that strange feeling seemed to dissipate as soon as I entered the building. I met up with one of my closest friends, Jill. She’s a lot like me-- a little rebellious, wears as much jewelry as she’s allowed, smart and nerdy, and has an incredible interest in mythical beasts and all things fantasy. She’s actually the one who convinced me to dye my hair.

She’s also incredibly awesome. I met her on my first day of sixth grade, when she saved me from a gang of bullies who’d stuffed me in a locker( Being tiny and one of the most unpopular kids in school? Seriously. Stinks. ). She’d happened to be passing by just when they’d closed the door on me, and from what I could tell she’d scared them off pretty quick. Fairly certain she’d kicked one of them in a... Sensitive place. We’ve been best friends ever since. She even started teaching me martial arts.

While I was seated in homeroom, doodling in my sketchpad and just waiting for homeroom to start, Jill snuck up behind me and grabbed me into a tight hug, “Happy Birthday Sky-boy!!”

I laughed, putting a hand on her arm, “Thanks Jill.”

There was a giggle from her, and as she moved to remove her arms I felt something being strung around my neck, “Aaaand, here’s your gift!”

I looked down, seeing a silver locket strung on a silver chain. Curious, I moved my hand to lift it up, opening it. Inside was a picture of Jill and I, with me having shiny new blue hair with green tips, “The first time I dyed my hair..!”

“Yep!” She grinned, her hands moving to my shoulders, “Hard to believe that was two years ago, huh?”

“Sure is.” I said, turning my head to look at her face, “Ah, I see you went fire today.”

The ‘fire’ I was referring to was aimed at her hair. She had a different color of hair almost every week. Today her hair was a gradation of yellow to orange to red. And it had a sheen to it that made her hair look like it was on fire.

“You noticed~!” Her voice was sing-song like, a huge grin sitting on her face, “Yes, I wanted to go flashy and bright today~. Let everyone know that I’m so fired up for summer break!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her mini-pun. She loved puns, “Maybe I should change my hair color. The pink’s fading after all...”

“You should do watermelon!!”

“Pink with green tips?” I thought about it, swaying my head a bit, “Hmm... I guess I might have some clothes to go with that.”

She laughed, putting her hands on her hips and moving to stand next to me, “I’m sure you have some lighter clothes somewhere. Ya gotta get a brighter closet!”

“Hm..... Okay. I’ll go watermelon. But only for you! And I get to keep my dark closet!”

“Haha, alright! Operation watermelon is a go! We’ll talk to your sibling to set up the appointment. I gotta be there when you get it done.”

“Alright, deal. Maybe I can convince her to do it tonight at the party.” I smiled, blinking at the teacher called us to our seats.

Classes went by as ‘Final School Day’ usually did-- with lots of parties and just general goofing off( Except for that one teacher who just can’t loosen up ), and I actually got a little mini birthday party in one of my classes. I didn’t have a lot of friends at school, so it was actually a bit surprising that anyone paid attention to when my birthday was. Everything was fine and great. All the way up...

Until lunch time.

Lunch was always the period I dreaded. Not because I had no place to go, I had Jill after all, but because it was the time of day where they got their chance to annoy the heck out of me. Johnathan Hue, Cody Rax, and Harry Stillman. The three biggest jerks in my whole class, who have been tormenting me all year. No matter how often I changed where I sat at lunch, they always found me, and they always humiliated me. Eventually I ended up seeking out isolated places to eat, just so no one would see them messing with me.

I did punch John in the face once though. He screwed up my hair dye by dumping red paint on me from one of the upper floors. Jill high-fived me and Darrien helped me fix it.

Anyway, in trying to avoid having another awful day at the hands of thing one thing two and thing three, I made my way up to the roof to eat lunch. For the first five minute of my thirty minute period by myself, I was content and happy just eating my ham and cheese sandwich, waiting for Jill to come join me. And then the roof door slammed open. I stopped eating, preparing to defend myself. But I didn’t hear the normal laughing and snarky comments of the bullies. I didn’t even hear multiple footsteps. Just one set. They came alone? That was unusual. I glanced up to see who came to torment me today. It was John, leader of the group with short brown hair, muscled up, and always wearing an over-sized varsity jacket. I think he just wears it to look bigger.

I glared at him as he made his way over to me, sauntering on over as if he were actually all-that. If only he knew how many of the kids in the school despised him. He stopped next to the bench I was seated on, leaning against the roof fence. He said nothing, something rather unusual for him. Usually by now he was taunting me, pushing me around, anything. But he just stood there. There was a strange calmness about him. Tainted with hatred.

“... So what are you gonna do this time?” I finally spoke up, not liking the suspense surrounding the air.

“To finish this.”

My body tensed. This wasn’t a ‘I’m going to patch things with you’ tone and feeling. This was malicious. Hateful. The same emotions I felt earlier that day. They’d come from John.

“... When did you start following me?”

“Right after you met with your cousin.”

“... What do you want from me?”

“I told you. I’m here to finish this. I finally have confirmation that it’s you.”

Confirmation..? It’s me..? I couldn’t understand what this guy was talking about. I gave him a quizzical look. He didn’t seem like he was joking, but he also didn’t explain what he meant.

“... Where’s Cody and Harry? Your two flunkies skip school without ya?”

He gave a chuff of a laugh, a twisted grin on his face, “Those two? They’re with my mistress.”

“... And I don’t suppose you’re gonna explain any of this? You’re just gonna let me think you’re crazy?”

He paused, pushing himself off the fence and moving to stand in front of me. I grunted as he suddenly grabbed my left shoulder, shoving me up against the fence, “Do you know what I am, child?” I stared, unsure of how to answer. A jock? A phsyco? A creeper?

“I’m an Oni.” He sneered, “A being forever stuck between life and death.”

I felt my eyes widen. An Oni? So this guy was... Dead?

He read the confusion and surprise on my face, laughing and putting a hand on the fence behind me, “That’s right, son of the void. I am dead. For how long, I know not. All I know is that I died, and was dragged into limbo by my mistress. Now I am neither living, nor dead.”

I was confused. I was scared. I didn’t fear monsters-- I actively tried to understand and connect with them. No, it was not him I feared. It was the pure hostility pouring from him. The joy he would feel in scaring me. The hatred burning through him. The sick sense of entertainment he was getting from this. It surrounded me, and my breathing became labored as if the feelings themselves were squeezing the air out of my lungs. My voice would no longer work. It felt like a knot in my throat. I wasn’t scared.

I was terrified.

“Would you like to know how I died?” I flinched as he spoke again, unable to hold in a wince as he dug his nails into my shoulder, “I was burned alive. I was pulled into Limbo just before my body was destroyed. And because I died so... Uniquely, I obtained certain... Perks.”

I was suddenly aware of the burning hot crawling down my back. Molten metal. The fence was melting behind me. I whimpered at the heat, trying to keep myself from touching it. A strangled yelp left me as a bit of it dripped down my arm and the smallest of dots dropped onto my neck. I heard him laugh, sadistic and with a sick sense of joy behind it. His hand dropped to my other shoulder, and I could still feel the fading warmth in it.

“Do you have a fear, son of the void?” The more I listened to his voice, the more I hated it. Feared it. The sick tone seemed to crawl down my spine, and I could feel the malice dripping from it, “Perhaps a... Fear of heights.

Before I could so much as blink, I felt myself turned around and lifted off the ground, being held by the back of my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut, kicking my legs desperately in an attempt to find the ground. I heard him laughing, felt him fake drop me a couple times, “Oh this is so rich!  Who knew that you were so weak! Makes me wonder why my mistress is so afraid of you.”

“Let me go!! Someone help!! Please!!!” I struggled and screamed, and slowly the screams of kids below us began being heard. I chanced a glance down at the yard. A couple guys were running into the building, trying to get up to us. Some of the girls followed them in. The rest of them were standing below us. There was even a small group of football players standing below me to try and catch me if I did fall.

The roof door slammed shut, and I yelped and closed my eyes tightly again, “No one can help you now.” My blood ran cold, and all of a sudden the feeling of his hand on my neck disappeared. I felt myself falling. I screamed. There was a flash of blue and purple light, and all of a sudden I felt arms around me, carrying me back upwards. I had no idea what just happened, but I clung for dear life to the one who saved me. I heard two near simultaneous thuds on the roof floor, as if two people had jumped and landed on their feet at the same time. I heard footsteps, a snap, and a cry of pain from the Oni named John. When I finally brought myself to look at what happened, I saw my father standing over the Oni, keyblade in hand. John was holding his upper body up with his left arm, his right arm twisted and obviously broken. Looking up, I saw it was my Uncle Riku who had saved me.

“How didn’t I know it was you?” I flinched and looked to my father as he spoke to himself. The look on his face was one I’ve only seen once before in my life. The day I’d been ambushed by heartless, and he used his most powerful drive form to save me. A look of protection, of hatred, and a chilling calm. I could only assume it was one he adopted whenever one he loved was threatened.

John laughed. As if he already wasn’t in enough deep trouble, “I guess I’m just too clever...~ Or maybe your senses are just out of touch~”

“Don’t push it.” The words my father growled out dripped with hatred. I had never felt such malice and hatred come from my father before. My dad didn’t hate anyone. He could dislike them, yeah, but I’d never felt outright hate coming from him. This wasn’t just about me. It couldn’t be.

“Tell me what happened that night. Tell me what you did. Where is my wife?”

Mother. Kairi Akari. The woman I only knew through words from my father and sister; whom the only memory I had of her consisted of warm arms, cradling me protectively. This Oni had something to do with her disappearance.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” John was treading on thin ice. But why wouldn’t he? Even if he fell through, he wouldn’t drown. He couldn’t die. No... There had to be a weakness. A way to get rid of him, if only for a while.

“Don’t play games with us.” I heard my uncle speak up this time, and I felt him squeeze my shoulder a bit. Not hard, just a soft squeeze. Reassuring; Trying to tell me that things would be alright. They would take care of it. There was no need for me to get involved yet. He looked to me, smiling briefly to reaffirm the feeling of security. He then carefully placed me on my feet and moved to join dad. I wanted to say something. To tell them to get away. My voice wouldn’t work, and my legs felt like jelly. I couldn’t warn them-- I had to at least think. His weakness. What could his weakness be?!

“Oh, but games are so much fun, don’t you think?” He grinned, placing a hand on his broken arm, “Children do love their games...” I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see what he was about to do. I felt two arms pushing me back a couple steps as my father and uncle backed up themselves. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw John standing. His arm didn’t look broken at all. In fact he was stretching it across his chest. It made me sick to think of how he fixed it.

He cracked his knuckles, letting his varsity jacket slip off his shoulders and onto the ground. I hated to admit it, but the guy was... Very muscular. And he was wearing a tank top that was just a little too tight on him. His arms were covered in burn scars, and if he removed his tank I’ve no doubt that he’d have even more scars on his chest and back. With a flick of his arms, flames ignited to life, dancing in orange yellow and red. Looking carefully, I noticed that the flames didn’t actually touch his skin. Thy were floating just above it-- more like magic than some sort of internal flame. I had to wonder...

I flinched away from my thoughts when I heard the sound of Dad and Uncle Riku summoning their keyblades. There were no words exchanged between the three before the battle began. I heard banging on the roof door. Someone trying to get through to help us. I could hear Jill calling for me behind it, “Sky?! Skylar I’m coming!! I’ve almost got it!!”

Looking back to Dad and Uncle Riku, I saw them fighting against John relentlessly. Both of them were covered in burns and what looked like scratch marks. But every time they hit John, the wound made just stitched itself back together-- there wasn’t even a scar. My feet felt rooted to the spot where I stood. I was terrified. All this malice, hatred, and fear in the air was messing with my head. I had to take a few minutes to breath. In. Out. Focus.

His fire never touched him. It was always just above his skin. Why? If he couldn’t die, he could just light his fire directly on his skin. It shouldn’t even burn... But then... The scars.

That was it.

I drew in a deep breath, forcing my trembling body to still. I held out a hand, watching the fight closely. I had to time it right, or I would end up hitting Uncle Riku or my dad. Wait for it... Wait for it...

There.

I flicked my wrist, and a spark erupted in front of my hand. The spark became a flame, which grew into a fireball. Within seconds it shot forward, whizzing past Riku and dad’s head. It slammed into the Oni before one could even blink, and in an instant his body burst into flames. The screaming was awful, and the amount of pain that flooded the air with it was choking me. The demon looked at me, and a wave of hatred washed over my body, sending me sinking to my knees. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. He’d never forget this. I was his target. Now. And Forever. A strange hole of darkness opened behind him, and he staggered his way through.

As soon as it closed, the roof door slammed open. I felt hands on my shoulders, and I clung to the sleeve of who I would moment later recognize as my father. Jill came tearing towards me, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around me. Other students were searching the roof, trying to find the bully they knew as John. I choked out a breath-- I hadn’t even realized that I’d been holding it. I over heard my father and Uncle talking-- Something about taking me to Yen Sid, and that they were out of time. I had to take a minute to comprehend what was going on.

Some demon called an Oni had been watching me through the entire school year, and tried to throw my off a roof.

I basically just burned him alive.( Dead? )

I was going to go see Yen Sid with the rest of my family.

And one last big thing that was nagging me.

He’d said ‘it’s you.’ What was me? Did he know something about me that I didn’t? Was it about my monsters? Or...

Did it have something to do with my birth parents..?

I had no idea. I only knew that, so far? Worst birthday ever.

[tipsycad147]

Candle Spells: Everything You Need to Know About Candle Magick

Apr 14, 2019

Written by Feather GardenBelle

CANDLE SPELLS: EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT CANDLE MAGICK

Any witch worth her salt knows there's no such thing as too many candles, especially if you're a regular practitioner of candle magick.

Candles have been associated with magick and spirituality since antiquity. In fact, many people associate magick and candles at least once a year--remember when you were a child and made a wish when you blew out your birthday candles?

Candle magick is a lot like that, except instead of hoping for a new bicycle, you're declaring your intention to bring about a result. Want to find out more about this approachable craft and making your own magick with candles? Keep reading to find out more!

WHAT IS CANDLE MAGICK?

You can't remember the first time someone told you to make a wish and blow out your birthday candles, but it's been a feature of your birthdays for as long as you can remember.

No one can quite remember where that tradition came from, nor can they remember who first came up with the notion of candles and magic.

Candle magick as it's practised today is one of the simplest forms of spellcraft out there, in that anyone who has a candle and a lit match can perform candle magick.

The premise is simple: using the candle as a focus tool for magical intent in order to cast a spell, meditate on what you want to let go of, or other forms of craft.

WHY PRACTICE CANDLE MAGICK?

If candle magick is so simple, why practice it? Beginners to the craft might think that you could get more magical oomph from a more complicated spell.

Well, candle magick is a lot more powerful than you think, even in its simplest form.

That's because candle magick harnesses the power of transformation, vis-a-vis fire, wax, and candle wick.

Think for a moment about how much transformational power fire has. Humans today have lost much of the wonder we once associated with fire, so it's worth pondering how powerful fire truly is.

Let's say you take some flour, eggs, sugar, and a few other ingredients, mix them together and put the mixture in a fire. You won't get flour, eggs, and sugar back again--fire transforms them into a cake, just as it transforms your dough into bread.

Fire does this with all sorts of things--it makes hard metals malleable, brings light in the darkness, and offers warmth against cold air. It can even turn water into a gas (boiling water into vapour).

Candle magick is powerful precisely because it harnesses fire's transformational abilities.

THE BASICS OF CANDLE MAGICK

It might seem counterintuitive, but in candle magick, the candle itself isn't the source of power. That is, the wax and wick aren't the drivers behind the magick--instead, it's the fire melting the wax and burning the wick.

Think back to birthday candles. The wish doesn't work if you blow on unlit candles, does it?

The same basic principle applies in candle magick, except that in candle magick, you shouldn't blow out the candle--you should let it burn down completely or put it out with a toll or wet fingers. Blowing out the candle can be seen as an insult to the element.

CANDLE COLOUR MEANINGS

That said, the candle itself does have some power in the spell, even if the fire is the component that puts the spell in action.

One of the ways the candle affects the magick is the colour of the candle. Different colour candles have different magical associations, so the focus of the spell will be different depending on the colour.

Here are the common magical associations of various candle colours:

White: purification, clarity, truth

Black: banishing negativity, protection, binding, trances

Red: passion, love, lust, courage, strength, life force

Pink: friendship, self-love, compassion, empathy, emotional healing, the feminine

Yellow: joy, energy, creativity, intelligence

Orange: success, power, encouragement, confidence, authority

Green: money, luck, fertility, abundance, growth, wealth, prosperity

Dark blue: depression, vulnerability, changes

Light blue: health, patience, healing, peace, serenity, meditation

Purple: psychic powers, wisdom, intuition, hidden knowledge, spiritual power

Brown: earth or animal-related, grounding, stability, balance

Silver: reflection, channelling, neutrality

Gold: attraction, financial gain, victory, authority

When in doubt (or lacking a coloured candle to correspond with your spell) a white candle will always serve you well, as it's a magical clean slate.

TYPES OF WITCH CANDLES

You may also use different types of candles depending on the type of spell you want to cast.

Table candles are the most easily available types of candles. While they do need to be set in candlesticks, they burn freely for six to eight hours and can be used in most spells as needed, so it's good to keep a supply on hand.

Pillar candles are the next most common type of candle. They're freestanding candles that don't need candlesticks and can be formed into various shapes, like an owl, heart, or skull. Because they take quite a while to burn out, they're best for spells you want to take effect over an extended period of time.

Finally, there are taper candles, which are tall thin candles that require a candleholder. They burn out quickly, so they're good for spells that you want to take effect quickly.

Other common types of candle for candle magick include:

Votives

Tea lights

Chime candles

Birthday candles ~ great for quick spells

Container candles

Novena ~ also known as seven-day candles or vigil candles

Seven knob candles ~ wishing candles

Figurine candles ~ skull, pyramid, female/male parts, cross, lovers, animals

You can purchase basic candles at any store and use them, but if you want your spell to have something extra working for it, you can also purchase spell candles. If you're new to spell candles, here's what to expect.

CRAFTING CANDLE SPELLS

Now that you know the essentials of candle magick, let's talk about how to craft your own candle magick.

When you break it down, it's a lot like making a wish on a birthday candle. The difference is that you're doing it with intention.

DETERMINE YOUR MAGICAL GOAL

First, you need to determine your magical goal. An unfocused spell may work, just not in the way you expect (or want!)

Here are a few things to keep in mind:

Be specific: avoid wishing or generalised goals

Use positive language: give your spell a direction to go, rather than cutting off its avenues of growth

Be realistic: you're not going to magic up a million dollars, but you could motivate yourself to get down to business at work tomorrow

Be ethical: i.e. don't interfere with other people's free will

When in doubt, it's best to break down your magical goal into a sentence. If it's a bigger goal, break it down into a series of smaller goals.

DESIGN YOUR SPELL AND COLLECT YOUR COMPONENTS

Once you know what you're trying to accomplish, you can design your spell.

You can collect items with significance to your goal, like this simple pleasures in life spell, or you can keep it simple with a candle to build and release transformation paired with a basic chant to focus your intent.

For example, a money spell would often include things like a green candle and herbs associated with money and wealth, such as mint.

If you're going to keep it simple, it's a good idea to write down a chant--this will help direct the spell as you work and keep you focused on the goal.

CLEANSE YOUR CANDLE

Let's say you want to do some candle magick and you purchase a candle from the store for that purpose. You're ready to go, right?

Not so fast.

Before you use a candle in a spell, you should cleanse it first. This will give your magick the best results, since you won't have the energies of other people who handled the candle lingering over it.

One easy way to do this is by smudging the candle the same way you would smudge your house. If you don't have a smudge stick, you can also use smudge spray, incense smoke, or some other type of purification spray or ritual.

BLESS AND CHARGE YOUR CANDLE

Once the candle is smudged, you need to bless the candle to seal in good intent. There are three easy ways to do this.

Place both hands over the candle and visualise your energy going into the candle. You can simply visualise a bright light going from your hands into the candle.

Breath your own energy into the candle. Visualise your breath surrounding the candle and infusing into it.

Say a prayer over the candle or speak an incantation related to your intention.

INSCRIBE & DRESS YOUR CANDLE

Before you begin your candle spell, though, you should make sure to inscribe the candle, which is when you carve your intention into the candle with words, symbols, or sigils.

Once the candle is inscribed, you anoint the candle by dressing it in herbs and herbal oil matching the intent of the spell.

If you don't have the means to carve a candle you can also write your intention on a piece of paper, place it under the candle during the spell, and burn the paper afterward to ignite your intention.

Once the candle is inscribed and anointed, you're ready to light the candle to perform the spell. While the candle is lit, it's important to focus your thoughts and intentions toward the flame. Think of it as a kind of meditation to help focus the spell.

After you're done, don't forget to thank the elements or deity, and release them. A good closing phrase is something like, "Go if you must, stay if you will, but know that you are always welcome."

CRAFTING YOUR MAGICAL PATH

Ready to try your hand at candle magick? It's an easy way to test the magical waters and start finding out what spells you like.

And if you're an experienced witch, don't be afraid of going back to basics! You never know when a simple spell is just what you need to find new inspiration.

If you're in the market for spell candles, check out our collection of herbal alchemy spell candles, and don't forget to check out the blog for more helpful posts, like these 10 ways to practice everyday witchcraft.

https://thewitchymommy.com/blogs/the-witchy-mommy/candle-spells-everything-you-need-to-know-about-candle-magick

[brymione-nettle]

Character Profile: Brymione Nettle

Name: Brymione Nettle (Brim-eye-oh-knee)

Aliases: “Brie”, Miss Netty, Madam Wren

Profession: An official notary who moonlights as a tattoo artist; also a struggling novelist. 

Appearance: In human form, she’s a bird of a woman, coming to just over five feet—five feet and a half with the right pair of boots—with a slim, banana shaped build. She is tan, especially so about the neck, face, hands, and the tops of her feet; peppered with freckles. The palms of her hands are almost as rough in human form as they become as a worgen—nails kept short that while otherwise healthy, are perpetually caked with dirt. Her eyes are hazel green with flecks of dark gold. Her lips are rosy, but thin unless she paints them, and seem naturally wrinkled with a soft frown unless she thinks to smile. Her hair is a curly walnut mess that either hangs along her shoulders or is piled up atop her head while she works. She wears clothing that buttons high up on her neck. But in the crutch of shoulder where she was bitten, she has had a tattoo penned over the scar of the bite--made to appear as though little wildflowers flowers are blooming from the old wound.

In worgen form, she is quite a bit something else—taller, faster, stronger, of course—with slate, cowlicked fur and eyes of piercing gold.

Personality: Brymione is highly independent, organized, and no-nonsense. Naturally distrusting of most, but anyone attempting to be kind, she always suspects an ulterior motive. A serious and somewhat cynical creature, she often comes off as condescending and out of touch with her own humanity. And yet many of her actions, while executed with cool logic and an air of begrudging, belie a deep concern for others over herself that is not easy for her to express in a way that would be better understood.

Childhood: Brymione was the youngest child of a wealthy Gilnean merchant and a young woman he was not married to. For Eleanor Nettle, this was hardly the first grand mistake she had suffered of her high-functioning alcoholic of a husband Maurice, but it was certainly the grandest nonetheless. Regardless, Elle took pity on the babe left at their doorstep and raised and loved his daughter as her own.

She was a bold and fearless child, always running off into the woods when she should have been doing—well, anything else. If she was not digging in the dirt, she was atop the tallest trees trying to journey to the moon. One day, a fierce storm rolled in while Brymione was out playing. Elle went looking for her and in a freak accident, a decrepit tree branch fell and struck her dead. Her death took a hard toll on the Nettle family, but especially on Maurice, who had depended upon Eleanor for everything. When his business suffered and his debts ran high, her half sisters went to live with his mother in law—but not him and certainly not Brymione, whom the noblewoman refused to acknowledge as a legitimate member of the family. She remained with her father when he sold their family home and much of their belongings to settle his debts, and they moved northward, into a smaller shack on the outskirts of a hamlet in the Northgate Woods.

Maurice loved his daughter, but in his mind, she symbolized all his faults and mistakes turned manifest, and was a constant reminder of Eleanor’s death. To numb the guilt and resentment in his heart, he drank away what money he managed to make and fell into deep despondence. It fell to Brymione to provide. She made herself a helpful nuisance to the locals, doing a bit of everything from milking cows to fixing fences—as well as assisting an old hermit named Cheryn tend her garden when her eyes had begun to fail her.

Cheryn was a harvest-witch, and while she carefully kept this from Brymione’s notice in the beginning, she weighed child’s worth as a pupil. When it was clear the girl would make a suitable successor of her knowledge, and that her time was dwindling, the harvest-witch revealed the truth. In the years that followed, Brymione spent all of her time with Cheryn, learning to hear and tend to the heartbeat of nature, and to even write living magic upon a page with careful instruction.

But even as level-headed as she was, she had unrealistic ideas of what could be done with her newfound strengths. Brie began trying to work her magic on her father, penning soothing glyphs beneath the flower pots she placed strategically at his sill and by his bed—hoping to cleanse his “corruption” and bring him clarity from the unending grief that kept him from being the father she remembered. Not only did it not truly work (as Cheryn warned her), but when Maurice discovered what she was doing, he became violently angry and frightened. Things were done and said that could not be undone or unsaid, and he returned to the city without her. Brymione lived with Cheryn from that point on, in her home in the thickest point of the wood, on a knoll that the locals called Wren Hill because the birds that loitered there.

Recent History: When Cheryn died of old age, the locals who had once gone to her for aid now sought out Brymione instead, the new Madam Wren. Having lived much of her formative years in the shadow of the Wall, her heart was with the Rebels and more so, with their people abandoned beyond the colossal impasse, left as fodder for the Scourge and wolfmen by a selfish King. She ignored the increasing correspondence from her loyalist father demanding she return to his side and the safety of Gilneas City. Instead, she remained in Northgate Woods to provide succor to those rebels she could reach, and sanctuary to those rebels who could reach her. She became familiar with the shotgun, entangling wards, and some of Old Cheryn’s more…’offensive’ remedies to ‘discourage’ loyalist soldiers and civil war ‘opportunists’ from harassing her or her patients. When the rebellion failed, and those who were not brought to court fled into hiding, her name came up and she was brought to trial. But because it could not be proved that she did anything more than provide medical aid to wounded rebels and there were far bigger fish to catch, she was released. (After all, you can’t prove much without a body.)

But the divided nation’s troubles and her own were just beginning. The worgen curse infiltrated the walled in nation, and what seemed at first like terrible accidents led to truths much more sinister. People came to her with wounds and stories of fearsome wolfmen—and then never returned. The nighttime howls became ever louder, ever closer. Then one day she went to the hamlet—and it was abandoned, all except for the dead.

“Run,” a man told her as the life fled from his eyes and onto the ground through his wound, too quick for bandage or magic to mend. “But don’t go to the city. They are damned—we are all damned.”

Her haven became a lonely prison. By day, she watched the feral worgen prowl past her home in packs from the loft of her boarded-up shack with her gun in her lap, waiting for the right moment to sneak out and collect the wrens and rare vermin that lay across her yard from drugged seed to cook and eat. She purified rainwater collected in her gutters with cleansing magic. By night, she dwelled in the cellar, busying herself in her journals by cautious candlelight to the sound of distant howling and screams beyond her door and boarded windows—taking detailed accounts of what she saw and heard, and studying the more complex spells and rites left behind by her mentor, though much of them seemed indecipherable without Old Cheryn’s guidance.

Then one day, she heard a sentient beating on the door, and a familiar voice yelling for entrance.  And that was the day she was bitten.

When her mind returned to her much later, she was in Tal’doren. There was still wildness in her blood, and fleeting memories of nights with cold dirt in her nails and moon in her eyes. 

But there was balance now—and most importantly, control, which she resolved to never lose again.

Not to anything. Not to anyone.

Usually Found: In Old Town, where she holds a position as an official notary.  After hours, some may know that other ink-related services are available. Alternatively, she can be found at quiet taverns, nursing wine and trying to write the Novel.

Strengths, Talents, and Points of Pride: Brymione is a survivalist, and keeps a rational head when most people lose theirs. She is a talented writer and scribe, and while she hasn’t penned any novels under her own name (yet), she has helped pen some beautiful tomes of others fledgling authors’ works and designing tarot cards for coin. Her knack for trivia is useful, and she isn’t afraid of dirty work. Her actions are often driven towards her concern for the welfare of others, and to revealing the heart of any given matter.

Weaknesses: Her inability to easily trust others or to relinquish control to someone else makes it difficult for her to work well in groups, and to have meaningful friendships. She is always ready for the other boot to drop, and her rationale can come off as cold and condescending. Her anxiety that she may cause undue harm with either her magic or her existence as a worgen can send her into death loops of inaction as she overthinks herself into a corner. Inaction also has its consequences. 

Unless she is in worgen form, she is not very strong at all, she no longer has access to most of her druidic abilities. But she is starkly adverse to that side of her, and retains her human appearance in towns and populated spaces unless necessary.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #35: Mephistopheles

Today one Fate and Phantasms we’re making someone from who the greatest magicians have something to learn, the magical Mr. Mistoff- sorry, wrong one. We’re building the demon of deceit and clown prince of crime, Mephistopheles! This is a very unusual build. Some characters are held back by restraints like “ease of play”, “being powerful”, or “not peaking at level 5″, but Mephistopheles laughs in the face of all of them.

There’s a spreadsheet if you want to rip this band-aid off right away, or you can savor the pain with a level-by-level breakdown below the cut. I’m sorry.

Race and Background

Homunculi aren’t a player race in DnD, so if we can’t be accurate, we can at least be thematic. You’re doing a very good impression of an Asmodeus Tiefling, adding 1 to Intelligence and 2 to Charisma. This also gives you 60′ of Darkvision, Hellish Resistance to fire damage, and an Infernal Legacy, which currently lets you cast the Thaumaturgy cantrip. 

You’re most certainly a Charlatan if I’ve ever seen one, dragging down anyone you can get your hands on. This gives you proficiency with Deception (saying you didn’t slip a bomb into someone’s jacket) and Sleight of Hand (slipping a bomb in someone’s jacket).

Stats Your highest stat is your Intelligence: you’re clever enough with clockwork to make bombs that run around on their own. Next is Dexterity: you’re a clown after all, capering around is what you do. Third is Wisdom, which should be lower, but we’ll need it for multiclassing. Your party will probably thank you for this: they’ll be within blast radius enough without you getting charmed too. Next is Constitution- you haven’t blown yourself up yet, so you’re probably at least a bit tougher than that bore, Andersen. After that is Charisma: you have a forceful personality, but honestly when was the last time you convinced someone you weren’t up to no good? Finally, we’re dumping Strength. You may have some pretty good pecs in your final art, but that’s nothing by servant standards.

Class Levels

1. Rogue 1: You general lack of strength and habit of ending up on the wrong side of morality make you quite a roguish caster. At level 1, rogues gain proficiency in Dex and Int Saves and four rogue skills, here being Acrobatics, Perception, Stealth, and Intimidation. Your capering and sneakiness let you slip bombs into places others might not notice, and let’s be honest, a clown in a skintight leotard is just plain terrifying. 

Rogues also gain Expertise in two skills (Sleight of Hand and Acrobatics), a Sneak Attack (1d6 extra damage if you’re using a ranged or finesse weapon and have advantage or another enemy is within 5′ of the target), and Thieves’ Cant, a language indecipherable to anyone who isn’t a rogue. A dagger can be reflavored as a giant pair of scissors easily enough, so sneak attacks work fine for you.

2. Rogue 2: At second level you have a Cunning Action, letting you dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action for extra mobility. 

3. Rogue 3: Arcane Tricksters can blend their love of breaking the law with magical skill, learning wizard spells to augment their natural skill. Most of those spells aren’t explosions though, so we’re not taking that. You are a Thief, which at third level means you have Fast Hands which adds sleight of hand checks, thieves’ tools uses, and Use an Object actions to your list of Things You Can Do In Your Bonus Action. You also learn how to do Second-Story Work, enhancing your capering by adding your dex mod to running jumps, and climbing no longer costs extra movement. Also, your Infernal Legacy kicks in again, and you can now cast Hellish Rebuke as a second level spell once per long rest. All spells from your Legacy use Charisma as the casting ability.

4. Wizard 1: I mentioned we’re peaking at level 5 earlier, so it’s time to wrap this up. You studied under (and then killed) a skilled alchemist when you were alive, so you have some magical knowledge as well. As a first level wizard, you learn Spellcasting, using Intelligence as your casting ability, and Arcane Recovery, which will let you recover a 1st level spell slot on short rests in a level. 

When you first gain your spellbook, you get three cantrips and six first level spells. Create Bonfire and Thunderclap are mere firecrackers compared to what we’ll get next level, and Mending will come in handy in the second half of the build. Cause Fear and Tasha’s Hideous Laughter play up your clownishness, Color Spray, Earth Tremor, and Grease will make it much harder for your enemies to get around. Finally, Chromatic Orb is a very versatile spell that can play into your strengths without leaving you locked into only fire and thunder spells.

5. Wizard 2: At second level, your Infernal Legacy kicks in again, and you can cast Darkness once per long rest. You also become a Conjuration Wizard, becoming a Conjuration Savant for cheaper conjuration spells, and more importantly, you learn Minor Conjuration. This lets you use your action to make an inanimate, nonmagical object appear in your hand or within 10′ of you. There’s a limit on the size and weight of this object, but not its cost. That’s important, because things are about to get a little silly. 

In the Dungeon Master’s Guide, there’s optional explosives you can add to the game. You’ll need help from your DM if you want these to be viable at higher levels, but they’re very strong at level five, which is where you are right now. With Minor Conjuration, you can create a Bomb, Horn of Gunpowder, or a full Bundle of Dynamite as your action. Then you can use your Fast Hands to use these explosives as your bonus action. The bombs and gunpowder aren’t that strong, but Dynamite can deal 10d6 Bludgeoning Damage to creatures within 20′ of it, and its dex save only halves damage. It can even be made with a fuse if you want to get to a safe distance first. That’s a silly amount of damage to have every turn, for free, this early in the game. This even beats fireball, and doesn’t require a spell slot.

6. Cleric 1: You pursue your goal of making people explode with religious fervor, which is just enough of an excuse to make you a Zeal Cleric. At level 1, clerics get their own Spellcasting, using Wisdom as your ability. You also become a Priest of Zeal, giving you some bonus proficiencies with heavy armor and martial weapons, as well as letting you attack as a bonus action after attacking with your main action a number of times equal to your wisdom modifier per long rest. If someone’s attacking you in melee range, you should probably put the bombs away. Or don’t, you have fire resistance after all. 

Clerics can prepare their spells, but as a zeal cleric you also get Searing Smite and Thunderous Smite to make your scissors really cut deep. For your cantrips, you learn Sacred Flame and Toll the Dead (which despite the names, neither of them do fire or thunder damage), and Light, because the best thing to do to someone after they stumble out of a cloud of darkness is shine a flashlight in their face.

7. Cleric 2: At second level, you can Channel Divinity in one of two ways. Turn Undead sends undead packing with a wisdom save, and Consuming Fervor is why we’re here. With this feature, you can use your Channel Divinity to maximize any fire or thunder damage you cause. You can only channel your divinity once per short rest.

8. Cleric 3: Third level clerics gain 2nd level spells, and yours include Magic Weapon to further improve your scissors and Shatter to start using up your Divinity uses.

9. Cleric 4: You finally get your first ASI, and we’re using it to get the feat Flames of Phlegethos. Whenever you cast a fire spell, you can now reroll any ones in the damage, and also wreathe yourself in flames until the start of your next turn. This causes any melee attackers to take 1d4 fire damage when they hit you. You’re going to be the epicenter of explosions anyway, but some extra protection never hurt.

10. Cleric 5: Your Turn Undead becomes Destroy Undead, instantly killing any undead of CR 1/2 or lower when they fail their wisdom save. You also get third level spells, including Haste, so you can attack and throw bombs in the same turn, and the ever-popular Fireball, which at this point is still outclassed by dynamite.

11. Cleric 6: You can now channel divinity twice per short rest for extra powerful fireballs, and you can make a Resounding Strike. This means that every time you hit a large or smaller creature with thunder damage, you can push them away from you up to 10′.

12. Now that we’ve taken all the best goodies from the clerics, it’s time to head back to a more reasonable class: Artificer. First level artificers can use Magical Tinkering to add minor magical effects to tiny objects, like making sounds, shining a bit of light, or displaying small pictures. You also get a third kind of Spellcasting, this one using Intelligence as your casting ability. You get two cantrips (Poison Spray and Shocking Grasp are rather clownish), and can prepare first level spells from the artificer spell list.

13. Artificer 2: You learn how to Infuse Items, turning them into magical items. You know four infusions from the infusions list, but can only have two of them active at once. They’re all very useful, but none of them are bombs, so I’ll let you decide which ones will work best in your campaign.

14. Artificer 3: You know The Right Tool for the Job, letting you create one set of artisan’s tools over the course of an hour. The tools are nonmagical, and last until you make another set. In more fun news, you become an Artillerist, gaining Shield and Thunderwave as class spells. You can also make an Eldritch Cannon, a small or tiny construct that you can command as a bonus action. You can make a Flamethrower, which shoots 15′ cones of fire, dealing 2d8 fire damage on failed dex saves, a Force Ballista, hitting targets with spell attacks that deal 2d8 force damage and pushing them 5′ away, or a Protector, adding 1d8 + your intelligence mod temporary hit points to nearby creatures. Regardless, the cannon has 18 AC, HP equal to five times your artificer level, 10 in all abilities, and can be made once per long rest or by using spell slots. It’ll live for an hour or until you dismiss it.

15. Artificer 4: Use your second ASI to round out your Intelligence and Wisdom for more and stronger spells.

16. Artificer 5: You can now tactically carve your wand, turning it into an Arcane Firearm. This adds an extra 1d8 damage to a single creature hit by each spell. You also gain second level artificer spells, including Scorching Ray and Shatter. Again.

17. Artificer 6: You now have Tool Expertise, doubling your proficiency with any check involving tools. You could mix this with your rogue expertise if you wanted to be obscenely good at breaking into places, but I’ll leave that to your discretion. You also gain two more known infusions, and have have one more item infused at once.

18. Artificer 7: You now have Flashes of Genius. When you or another creature within 30′ of you makes a check or saving throw, you can use your reaction to add your intelligence modifier to the roll. You can do this a number of times equal to your intelligence modifier per long rest.

19. Artificer 8: Use your last ASI to add some Dexterity to make yourself harder to hit and harder hitting.

20. Artificer 9: Your capstone level turns your cannon into a proper ticktock bomb! You can command the cannon to detonate, dealing 3d8 force damage to creatures within 20′ of it. All other damage is also increased by 1d8.

Pros: Mephistopheles is very adaptable, with a great deal of low-level spells that can be swapped out each day. The sheer number of things you can make out of thin air is also admirable. He can also be a very strong damage dealer at low levels if your DM doesn’t remove bombs entirely.

Cons: This build is overcomplicated even by my standards. You have four spell lists using all three spell abilities, divinities and infusions to keep track of, and even a second body to deal with in combat! This build seems almost designed to drive you mad trying to play it (which would be in character, admittedly). Summoning explosives is nice, but you have to wonder if it is worth removing any chance at higher level spells. Finally, the most annoying drawback is the lack of consistency in explosions. The DMG uses bludgeoning damage, the cleric uses thunder damage, and the artificer uses force damage, all to represent the same thing, meaning they don’t quite mesh together if you’re playing rules as written.