1 Story Prelude :: Act ø - The Rag Tag Team Of The Sorceress Of The Wind -

\\\ The Son of the Sun \\\


The sea brewed with dark clouds, full of thunder and filled with pouring rain, heavy winds carried by storms fought against the night, creaking against a boat, swimming in the open sea.

Waves hit the lower decks and broke themselves against the hardwood that comprised the ship.

The boat simply dangled above water, struggling to keep afloat.

There was this feeling in the air, a feeling that dissuade the captain, telling him to leave everything and go back to land, he felt it in his gut, but his face was straight, unnerving, and deadpan.

It felt like the Yellow Sea wanted to swallow them whole.

Tis' was a dark and stormy night no less.

In between the Yellow Aegeon Sea and The Purple Mediterranean Sea, lies a whirlwind pool of water, revolving constantly, pooling water in the form of a tunnel. This is an entrance, an opening to another world, a copy of the home above, but it was frozen in time, it was meant as a prison, with no escape.

Long ago The Sorceress of the Wind had schemed a man and a woman into committing a crime against the kingdom.

The different Kings and Queens of Gliese came together, forming a council, and concluded that this man and woman shall be banished for their evil act's. For they went against how the natural law accredited them to be, their way of living, from generation to generation, from one era to the next, each of four cycles.

Their deeds shall not be named, but they were considerable, stopping events that prevent the planet from invigorating itself with new magic and riding itself old useless things, things no longer needed for progress.

King Formeen of Fire, asked the Sorceress of Wind to create this copy world and store it deeply, somewhere in Gliese.

The center of the planet would act as a burning catalyst, the clan of wind knew how to imbue spells to this perpetual machine.

The Sorceress's plan had gone just as outlined, it had been all their doing. The Sorceress of the Wind was the true evildoer.

But they did not count on the man to be imprisoned, to act against his nature, his mental state deteriorated rapidly, and under so much pressure, he cracked. In a desperate struggle, he killed 3 kings, however, only Formeen was left behind. But the price he paid, was his eyes, in its wake only darkness loomed over his sight.

Soon after darkness also took over the land he reigned.

That island became known as the starless-lands. The land of Miasma; Lumgrave. Where not even the stars in the night sky dare to show their light.

The man then killed his wife, then slitting his own throat, and drowned the wife's newborn in his crib.

When the blood dried, the sun shined brightly on the baby boy. So bright it broke the atmosphere and gave enough magical power to the newborn to bring asunder whole nations.

Now a generation later, the Sorcerers of Wind have underlings, that are set to become the new leaders of the clan, a rag-tag team of teenagers that saw the unjust in this story, and set themselves to liberate the ones imprisoned. And with it, awaken the Son of Sun's true power, the reasons were not yet known even to the captain himself, yet his faith in the cult was more than enough to do their blind bidding.

The teachings of the sorcerer's clan delve deeper than just elementai wind magic, they know secrets of time and light that no one else knows.

The two strongest types of magics in Gliese.

The man wanted change, and with swayed words, he proposed a plan, threw himself in the limelight, advocated for it, but the kings were not having it, they were stuck in their ways, and read-only natural law in its wake.

He was after all only more than a nuisance.

But before long, the Yellow Sea slowed its thunder, and the water calmed. The water relaxed so much, the boat could easily just float along now, the water acted almost like a mirror making the horizon infinite with the stars. The moon showered them with its red light.

The crew on board had a plan, they were to drop a magical blue orb into the whirlpool, containing information so that the child blessed by the sun would be able to set himself free. It contained valuable secret's from the clan itself and some from the Pastoral of Magic that, no one wanted out in the open.

A flimsy crew, they stood above it, holding on to their lives, the ship had no name, for it did not need one.

It was only disposable after all.

The sails were open, and the ship was swimming, advancing straight unto the horizon, in the middle of the deck, stood a statue, holding a magic crystal, it had cost several thousand golds, and the statue was craftsman work, a woman in the shape of Lucerna the god of light, her silk's draped finely against her skin, her face sweet, and her varnished skin like a myrtle flower's petal.

After all; You can't carry a crystal without a statue, or so the salesman had said to the crew as they boarded the ship.

The sky was now clear, on the horizon, The Riff of Demise was fast approaching, this was a chatty nickname given by common folk to the pool of whirlwinds, it was close at hand, its true name was The Mirror World.

It had other names given by pirates and men of no law.

Thomas, the newest recruit, was on the lookout.

"Captain I see it, land ho!" spoke Thomas with a chatty, perky attitude, shouting to the men below. He was the youngest of the crew, and the most easily excited. In his hand, he had a scope and was standing in the highest part of the ship. The scope embedded with magic, had several lenses at the end of the small tube, with rotation and clicks on the outer part of the pipe, Thomas could make different elements appear in his vision, what's more, he could even zoom great distances, allowing Thomas to see far, far away as if he had land mass or object's right at his nose.

The graphic interface inside the scope showed how many klicks between the riff and the purview, Thomas pressed a special button in the scope, and a yellow way-point was placed, right in the center of the riff, everyone else who had magic embedded in their eyes, could see the way-point too, this was, of course, the whole crew.

"Sire, tis hundred five klicks away," shouted Thomas, the crew could hear his voice perfectly, almost like he had a microphone, which he did, in the form of a tiny green orb that floated alongside him. The whole crew had also imbued their ears with magic allowing them to hear Thomas as if his voice was a thousand times larger than it was in reality. Thomas was scrawny and had a flimsy build on his body, not much muscle on him, he was the youngest, and at the bottom of the food chain in the sorceress clan.

Baron, who stood next to the captain, was strong and heavy, his chest filled with musty hair, and his face had a beard even the dwarfs would be proud of, he was taller than a dwarf though but was of dwarven descent. Baron's chest was massive and wide, he trained heavily every day, and his thighs were like two packs of bison meat.

His jaw was rectangular, his eyes small but had an intimidating feature to him, his nose circular and drooped, and his lips thin. Baron wore his hair upwards and back. His two sons had a sense of humor and played jokes of jolly japery on him. They placed blue dye while he bathed, and every single hair on his body was of azure color with still the underlying black in his roots that was his natural shade.

The captain gave a single glance to Baron, and the big man knew exactly what the captain wanted to say. The two men had a relationship that you could say was more than brothers. A single look from the Captain could kill Baron, but not the other way around. Even though Baron most of the time exercised his influence over the captain.

"He's not wrong," said Baron, as he looked up towards the horizon. There it was, the pool now making enough noise so that Baron could hear. It was almost unnatural to see and caused a sense of dread to tingle in Baron's spine. This was not a natural meteorological phenomenon in the middle of the lulling sea. Instead, it was meant to deter anyone from getting close to this part of the sea.

"We shall arrive then shorty," said the captain. Winsor was his name, a tall man, but not as tall as Baron, lanky in shape, but had an athletic build on him. His every step demanded authority and a handsome face.

The sails shined brightly, they reflected the ocean's blue, and an orange glow passed through them, they were embedded with magic as well, a sight to behold.

The aft of the ship, the abbot was controlling the winds, moving his hands back and forth in a rhythmic dance, his name was Daniel, he was mostly silent, he had chosen the path of a monk, and he had a bit of a beer gut in his belly.

The air felt heavy, they had left in a hurry in the dead of night, hoping no one saw them or followed them.

In the mid-deck, a man had set up a hammock in between the mid-pole and the aft-pole of the ship, he was sleeping soundly, his snores could be heard all across the ship, even though no spell at his voice. He had slept through the storm, his name was Newton, and he didn't care about his physical appearance, in fact, he only wore worn-down commoner leather drawers, and no shirt, the clan hated him as they pride themselves in their expensive and handcrafted work.

The uniforms had become signifiers of royalty, even though they were not. From rags to riches the clan had suffered. And now their chest could huff and puff as they walked the streets of cities.

People scoured at their sight, even if it didn't signify any real power. The gold drapes that adorned the white leather shirt and black pants were just for show.

Newton was a bit of a black sheep. No uniform meant he actively rejected the wind's teachings.

"Captain, art thee gonna allow thy broth'r to catch more than a wink through this?" asked Baron, he held the steering wheel of the ship, while Winsor stood with his hands to his back, next to him.

"Ti's nothing to it Baron, he's a dis-temperate bum from the day that gent was born, I wouldn't expect anything else from him," said Winsor.

"Right sire, I do apologize, he is yo'r bruther," voiced Baron.

"Right'o, so he is, with shame yond is," expressed Winsor. The conversation went silent. A beat, then. "That gent is my own brothe'r alas; His caravan work is, shalt we sayeth, creative," said Winsor, he almost sounded proud. Almost.

They started to approach the Riff, the stars in the sky started to give way, and water started pouring from the sky, it started raining, even though the night sky had a bright and clear view of Polaris. Thunder clashed against the sea, and Daniel stood his ground and prepared to fight against the sea.

"Hold so!" the captain shouted from all the way from the back, no magic in his voice, and Daniel heard him clear as crystal. "Tis but a mirage!" the captain shouted. And he was right, Baron could feel the rain, it smelled like it too, but they weren't getting wet. This signified that they had passed through the point of no return.

The sails changed course from north to south and the boat slowed down.

"Daniel, stand ho, bringeth down the sails," said Winsor, they needed to slow down, approaching the Riff straight on was not a good idea, they did not want to sink the ships, Daniel did as he was told and brought down the sails with a motion of his hand, then pushed winds against the aft to slow it down to a complete stop.

"Bringeth 't down," expressed Winsor to Baron, the big man knew exactly what to do, he carried the anchor, big and heavy, and threw it down to the sea. A thud was heard as it crashed against the sea floor, and the boat fully stopped.

Thomas grabbed a rope and skidded down into the deck.

Newton was still asleep.

The rain did not stop, but the sea became eerily calm, more than before. Nothing but an infinite sea on the horizon. Winsor walked towards Newton, his anger was almost reflected in the moon.

It only needs to spill blood into the sea.

"Waketh!" said Winsor and threw Newton off his hammock and into the floor with a sharp kick from his leg.

Newton groaned and shied his face into the ground.

"Why?!" Newton asked the heavens, or the hell's for his face was pointing downwards. He said it to no one in particular.

"It's you're time to shineth, we need thy caravan," said Winsor, he spoke differently to his brother, almost like he was speaking down to someone. Like he spoke to cattle.

Winsor revealed his face, sat his bum on the floor, and crossed his legs, he placed his head on his hand and closed his eyes.

"Waketh me up f'r something m're interesting, okay?" said Newton, he gave signs of wanting to roll to his side and sleep once more.

Winsor conjured up a wind blade and put it up to Newton's neck.

That surely woke him up.

"Now…" remarked Winsor.

"Now well, puteth that off, yeah?" spoke Newton now on his feet, up and about.

"Right," said Winsor and retracted his wind blade, back into his hand.

Wind blades were almost as real as a normal blade, sharp as a real blade as well, except they were almost invisible and could be moved without touching a hand. The caster could choose to make it of any color they wanted.

"We need thy caravan," added Winsor.

"Right away sire," Newton, now moving what seemed faster than a hummingbird. He went down the stairs and came back up rather quickly.

Newton had fetched a suitcase, there was a blue orb in his left hand. Newton threw the suitcase to the floor, with big force. It crashed heavily unto the wooden floor. Newton looked at it like it was supposed to do something.

The captain raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Giveth t' a second" giggled Newton.

It did nothing for a double, but then started to jump and move sporadically it started moving on its own.

It opened and from inside, mostly cubic, the part's started forming, moving on their own, steam came forth, its part clanking and turmoil, then it was constructed, an artisan's job.

The caravan was now complete, and it was up and running, its motor fully functional.

"Thomas!" said Winsor, Thomas appeared forth. Newton pressed a button on the caravan, nothing happened. Then he gave it a good punch on the side. The helicopter-like blades started to spin and it created enough updraft to fly in the air. It let itself go from the suitcase.

It worked! A seat appeared in the machine.

Winsor took the blue orb from Newton and gave it to Thomas.

"What am I to doth with this sire?" asked Thomas.

"Geth'eth on the caravan, and dropeth the blue 'ight in the cent'r of the riff, missing is not an option," commanded Winsor.

Everyone else was looking at Thomas, with sturdy eyes, and concerned looks.

It wasn't like there wasn't any room for error, they were all skeptical.

"But - sire," said Thomas. "I am a mere skarrow, wouldn't someone of high'r ranketh best be bett'r f'r the job?" said Thomas, worry in his voice.

"No-" ordered Winsor coldly. "If 't be true thee faileth, at least we loose a skarrow elementai, the rest of us has't five hundr'd years of training, thee has't at least two thousand left, so bett'r not misseth, that cleareth?" dictated the captain.

Under that logic, Thomas had no other choice but to comply. Gliese turns around a red dwarf, twenty-eight years on Gliese equals a year on the old Atavistic calendar.

Days and months are shorter in Gliese, the sun was already making its way through the horizon.

Even if Winsor's orders were harsh for a skarrow, Thomas had no other choice, Winsor's words were like knives that cut through Thomas.

He had no other choice but to comply.

"Right'o captain, I'm s'rry." mumbled Thomas. The captain paid no mind.

Thomas got on the caravan, his feet dangling, Newton strapped Thomas on the caravan with two leather belts that wrapped around his torso. Thomas held the orb with both hands. It was almost like a small trapeze.

Suddenly a loud crash, a couple of klicks away, the water opened up and a ship appeared from underneath the sea, like a submarine pushing to the surface, it was a full boat, made of plaster and wood, the water receded from the deck and the sides as well, the ship had a crew of five elementai's, king's mostly, two fire elementai's were on board, ready to attack at the aft of the ship.

Their body's steaming, burning from the cold water, and their drapes were being dried by the air elementai on that ship.

Newton grabbed the scope from Thomas and peered through it, he zoomed in on the ship, he was silently looking at them, from what the man saw, was taking too long to report but he was in fact but frozen.

Baron without a word snatched the scope from Newton and used it himself. Baron and the captain had magic in their eyes, shared only amongst themselves, the captain could see exactly what Baron was seeing.

Newton unfroze, "Well'e now timeth to wend buudy" belted Newton and activated the caravan, it started going up towards the sky gaining altitude. Heading towards the whirlwind. Thomas gave frightened gasps as it was gaining elevation.

"Sire, four kings confirmed on board," said Baron.

"I glimpse it too," stated Winsor "Which island?" inquired Winsor.

The scope zoomed in once more, and it focused on the fire king, as if he knew he was being watched, he waved a friendly hello, which was almost impossible because he was blind.

"That's the blind fire King, Lumgrave sire, and hol' on -" said Baron. Winsor didn't want to wait any longer and grabbed the scope for himself, but the way Winsor caressed Baron was almost lovingly. Baron froze for a moment.

Winsor's hand passed through Baron's beefy arms, and hairy chest, feeling every strand of hair, and then almost as fast as a lion eating at his prey, Winsor reached for the scope and used it himself, still holding onto Baron.

Baron was a little red in the face. Winsor knew how to manipulate the scope so it gave much more information. Pressing a couple of buttons on the small thing, the vision changed, it felt like had activated pro mode. The UI changed color from a blue tint to a golden-reddish color. And tons more info started to appear.

The scope scanned the faces of the men on the other ship, it displayed stats like Level and AP, showed the name of their armor and the spells attached to them, it also showed which elementai they were proficient in, and finally it showed their names and which house they belonged to. Ultimately, it showed how close they were to death; their taboo level, most of them were low, nevertheless

Formeen had his taboo clouded. Where was the scope fetching all this information from, was an answer Winsor only knew. He had allowed Baron to see this info as well, but he could have easily blocked it as well. A simple detect spell was enough for any type of viewing device to gain this ability.

Baron clenched his head, as it hurt.

"F'rmeen is a special guest, it's the island of Omamel," said Winsor. "Sierra, Lidiya, Gladio, and Hadad, they're h're to stand ho outh ship." Winsor snapped.

He stopped looking through the scope.

"Shite, this is bad news," quaked Thomas.

"Prepare for fire," ordered Winsor, it seemed like almost thousands of wind blades appeared behind him. Baron used wind cannon's on his arm, the wind around his arms circled and created small powerful artillery shape objects that he could command at one click. Daniel took a monk stance and white orbs appeared around his neck.

Newton had no idea what to do. He ran around like a chicken with no head. The other boat was also getting ready to attack.

Thomas was already way off, a tiny spec in the distance, going towards the Riff.

The other ship started to take flight, then fire, earth, water, and wind spells were fast charging toward them, a winged serpent formed from the water, and it poured out from the sea.

"Choke them," commanded Formeen to his crew of Kings.

Newton tried to be helpful and created a wind barrier across the ship, but the water spell broke it almost instantly.

"No- I, that was my strongest spell," said Newton.

The sea serpent enveloped the sorcerer's boat and started cracking it from the middle.

"FIRE EVERYTHING!" shouted the captain. Baron, Winsor, and Daniel pulled against the starboard, they were dead if they didn't defend themselves.

The captain moved his wind's blade horizontally, he inhaled, and in his exhale the blades barricaded towards the other ship, they went up, and then down, he was trying to hit the people on board. Actively trying to kill.

Hedad, from Omamel the king of wind, tried dissolving the spell, but some blades did hit the deck and some of the crew, blood scattered everywhere.

Back on the Sorcerer's boat, Daniel muttered something under his breath.

"Eheca," whispered Daniel, then the white orbs on his collar went off, rapidly, a never-ending push of small orbs towards the ship. They hit the side of the lower decks, sticking like clay, then they exploded, there wasn't any fire, it was a wind explosion, some of the ships started breaking, but it was flying now, it didn't affect them, some crew lost their footing and started crashing down on the sea, the sea gave way and took them towards the Riff, screams of death could be heard. It swallowed them whole.

Daniel was met in retaliation, a punch of air suddenly threw him off balance, moving him across the deck of the ship, he almost fell into the sea, but he managed to grab hold of the edge before falling. His stomach muscles were on fire, and with all his strength he pulled himself up.

Before anyone else could do anything, he saw something that made him gap his mouth and breathe an air of shock.

A figure was slowly coming down, fire like a rocket from his hands and feet. Yet his magic was controlled, it was almost elegant. He touched down on the wooden floors, slowly pulling his descent.

From behind him, the floating boat made its way to a stop.

King Formeen had descended into the Sorcerer's boat. Formeen was something of an old man, his hair red, but white reeds already sticking out. He was a handsome guy, marvelously so. But he looked old - older than Winsor and Baron. Some would say corrupted even. His eyes were white and damaged from the sun, he was yet unable to see.

He wore a desert vest that showed his abs, gold jewelry around his neck, and baggy pants that closed at the waist and the ankles but allowed movement everywhere else, his shoes pointy and red, laced with gold, on his head, a circular minimalist gold crown. Black and red formed the true vision of a prince.

Everything the clan stood for was right in front of them as if mocking them.

Winsor breathed, preparing a spell in silence, however, Formeen was able to hear him.

Formeen opened his hand and fired started to charge up, going from red to orange to purple.

"Thou are late, disgraced king of fire, the one who lost his lands to Tēnebra," exclaimed Winsor, he was trying to put salt in the wound, but Formeen maintained his composure.

"Am I?" asked Formeen, a rhetorical question at best. Formeen had a deep trebled voice, yet when he was not in combat he was relaxed and easy-going, but this was not the time for that. He was beloved across Gliese, and people felt pity for his story.

Right now this was a battle for life and death.

"Tleyo," said Formeen and out of his hand formed a bow, on the other the charged-up fire, now burning purple formed into an arrow.

He shot the arrow and it flew with such intensity it was almost impossible to see, it shot straight toward Winsor, but in the final moment just before it hit, Newton jumped in front of him.

The arrow hit Newton instead, and his whole body engulfed itself in flames, he screamed, the pain was unbearable, and his skin charcoaled black. It was burning like a million suns.

Daniel shouted and started running towards Formeen, breaking his oath of silence, but Formeen placed his hand towards him, a small drop of orange fell from his hand, and hit the floor, it traveled in a straight line towards Daniel and just inches from his nose a tall fire wall formed, it was a warning, Formeen didn't want to shed any more blood tonight.

The wall ended and Daniel fell to his knees.

"I expected more diligence from a monk," exclaimed the king of fire. Formeen thought about his wife, who was soon to marry him, and pregnant with a child, she was a beggar, but she had never wanted him for his money, and Formeen knew that.

Daniel had tears running down his face. He cared too much about this life, Winsor took it as a clear betrayal, but went back to Newton who was now lifeless in his arms, gold was forming

Newton's skin, his soul trapped in mummification. Unless a proper burial ritual was given, it would stay in death forever.

"Oh, I see you were ahead of us," said Formeen, a smile on his face, irony because Formeen couldn't see, things were just starting to get interesting.

...

On Thomas's side, he was now above the Rift, right in the middle. He took a deep breath and dropped the blue orb, it entered the whirlwind, then passed through a tunnel with crystals inscribed on its walls, blue shiny crystals, pure of magic, then it stopped at a small gate, it lead to the time frozen world.

The orb flashed green, yellow, black and then all the colors of the rainbow, thunder flashed across it and the orb finally made its way through.

No one else saw this except Thomas.

...

Baron was about to attack but Winsor gave him another look.

On the boat, almost in slow motion, Winsor stood up, and opened up his hand, he decided that he didn't care what happened to him, his body, or his mind, his brother had just been torched, mummified right in front of him.

With a wave of his hand and a determined step Winsor erased the magic in Baron's eyes, they were no longer sharing the same vision. It took a moment for Baron to adjust, he held his head like he had a headache, going from four eyes to two was taxing on the brain. But Baron recovered quickly.

"What are thy doing?!" shouted Baron

"I can't alloweth thee to seeth," gulped Winsor.

"Seeth, what?!" thundered Baron.

"Thee'll findeth out anon enow" explained Winsor.

Now referring to the king of fire, spoke Winsor.

"One thing yond's been both'ring me, "calmly spoke Winsor. The King of Fire croaked his head like a dog listening for treats. "Why is thy taboo blurred,"

"Ah~" reminisced Formeen. "You seeth, I have asked her to do me a fav'r, those gents owth me one," explained Formeen calmly.

"Wherefore thou speaketh of Sybil liketh t's m're than one?!" Winsor hissed at Formeen. There was a beat and Formeen looked a little confused.

"Sybil?" asked Baron under his breath. He had no idea who that was.

Then Formeen's grin changed, it was maddening and creepy, from ear to ear, his white eyes made Formeen look concave, there was not a man in there anymore, but something else, something that would defy all logic and explanation. Something that would defy the common law of man, something that could make a simple man go mad just by mere looking at him.

"T's only one voice for thee?" responded Formeen, his eyes maddening with each passing second. His grin became even louder.

"I wanteth to seeth sybil, I wanteth to seeth how much this sir very much desrves to calleth himself king!" roared Winsor.

A voice echoed inside Winsor's head. Sybil spoke to him.

[Running Command]

[Accepted]

[Executing]

[Complete]

Winsor used the magic in his eyes once more, stats appeared just like before, but this time solely just for him. Then he looked at the taboo level. It was way too much no human could ever deal with this type of taboo status. Formeen had done something, something evil.

TABOO LEVEL: -1.2B

He also noticed something else, Formeen had miasma coming out of him, enveloping him like an aura of darkness. Demons clutching at him, beings of darkness at his shoulders, pushing him down, ready to take him to the underworld. Winsor took a step back out of fear. Madness was sweeping in.

[Frenzy Detected]

[Executing Low-Level Maintenance Sweep; User Winsor]

[Complete]

Winsor's brain regained normal functions again. He couldn't see the miasma or the hellish abominations hanging around Formeen, but he knew they were there.

"Thee seeth the truth nowth" whispered Formeen.

It was in a second that Winsor decided to do what was about to happen next. Without hesitation, he shouted.

"Imiquiz!"

[Running Program]

[Warning; This Program may have unintended side effects; Your new Taboo balance will be in the negative numbers; Accept?]

[YES / NO]

A new window appeared in his vision, he only needed to look long enough at "YES" and wait for a circle to fill up for the spell to execute.

[Understood]

[Executing]

From his hand a black thunder roared, shouting with bitterness, animosity, and exasperation, death itself carried that thunder, it zig-zagged towards Formeen and incrusted itself in his chest, pushing him towards his back, a shockwave came out of him and he thumped against the deck.

The kings looked in shock at the scene from atop their boat.

Winsor had cast the unforgivable, the death spell. But no one would punish him, as nature itself would do the job.

A silence came over the scene. The rain stopped.

Then a white thunder just like before came from Formeen's body, as it too was turning gold.

The thunder incrusted itself on Winsor's chest, pushing him back to his knees, nothing happened for a moment.

Then from the palm of his hand towards his shoulder, the bones twisted and broke into a million pieces, his fingers twisting like rope, blood pooling from the open spaces the bone had cut through the skin, the scene was ungodly.

Winsor's eye went tiny, the pain was insufferable. Tears instantly streamed from his eyes, and his consciousness held on for dear life. Winsor finally shouted, and ungodly screamed, even Thomas heard it and looked back at the ship wondering what had happened. So much pain. Then Winsor finally fainted.

Baron ultimately moved and went towards his friend, holding him in his arms.

This was his price, the price he had to pay for casting imiquiz, as for Formeen, his heart wasn't beating anymore.

Winsor had taken Formeen's life, but at what cost?

Baron looked up at the ship with the other kings.

Baron wasn't just the second in command, and the crew weren't just crew-mates anymore, they were friends, teammates, comrades, brothers in arms, and family related by the blood they had shed that night.

"Come down'th you cowards," shouted Baron, the other kings just stood there looking at the scene.

"I'll did cast t' too, howev'r many times t' doth take to killeth all of thee, all of thee, THEE HEARETH ME!?" shouted Baron.

The other kings just mocked him, knowing he didn't have enough magical energy to cast this spell. They had used detection too.

Winsor shushed him with his working arm, and placed his hand against his cheek, Winsor's mind went into shock and his hand fell to the ground.

Baron hugged him and cried.

The King saw no point in fighting anymore, they left their ship, and a white veil covered them, a wind teleportation spell cast by Hedad.

Since the ship had no more elementai to cast winds below it, it crashed down into the Sorcerer's ship, but before it could kill anyone, the crystal at the statue activated.

[Imminent Death Detected]

[Prioritizing User; Winsor]

[User Winsor has 3 active party members; 1 deceased]

[Accepted]

[Teleporting Party]

[Teleporting Unsuccessful; User Thomas is out of range]

"Just get us out of here, whicheve'r way possible" spoke Winsor in his head to Sybil. Everything was moving in slow motion.

[New Conditions Accepted]

[Fragmenting Party]

[Teleporting 2 active party members; 1 deceased]

[Success]

The King in their last attempt tried to kill them but did not succeed.

Thomas who was still flying trying to return to the ship saw all of this, he was now stuck at sea, but at least he had a caravan.

Soon he was about to start lamenting himself, but then a white light shined from behind him, and it spread the heaven's in two, Thomas felt this, and turned around, his pupils became tiny from the light, and he had to cover his eyes as they felt like they were burning.

The light subsided, and from it appeared a skinny figure, cloaked, entailed in darkness, floating in mid-air, coming towards Thomas, then when it was close enough, Thomas opened his arms to try and catch the guy, but in an instant the person reverted in time, becoming younger of age until it was only but a newborn baby.

Thomas held the baby in his arms, the veils falling into the water, Thomas engulfing the newborn with the oversized drags he had around him, the baby cried, but it was muted by the sound of the thundering whirlpool crashing and closing in on itself until it was only but a calming sea.

The sorcerer's plan had worked, albeit with some unplanned nuisances.