Valiantly the other brave Knights of Ekilore rose up to conquer the fiery beasts that stood in the way of victory. Meanwhile Tamor and Auden sat in the same position on the ground. It felt rather serene; Tamor sat with her legs carefully tuckered beneath her fragile body, positioned directly to the right-hand side was a mess of a man, Auden. Uneasiness still lingered and washed over Tamor as she swept her thin fingers through his messy hair that had gathered dirt, rock, and even bits of flesh. Niolas rested quietly on her left shoulder his eyes were focused on the battlefield instead of his owner. Despite her best attempts and multitude of prayers nothing could restore Auden's mana, he was forced to stay back from the fight as her healing magic slowly coursed through every inch of his being. The mage's mind wondered away from her second dearest companion and focused on the battle that raged on ahead. The Grey brothers somehow managed their way to the Necromancer; their weapons were advantageous against a horde of undead but would soon fall short against a mage as powerful as the one that sat upon the throne. Mages typically never fought close combat, as a general rule it was much easier to strike down a dangerous foe from a safe distance especially when those foes had extremely well forged weapons and were well skilled with them. Even at a distance Tamor knew the warrior's weapons and armor were forged from the finest Reigncliff steel, it wasn't as great as dwarven steel, nothing could best dwarven steel, but it still crafted well. Tamor's time in Yarne had taught her this yet she was still novice at forging her own weapons not that she required such items. A finer duo had not graced Tamor's eyes; Roland and Percival moved in sync never once questioning the others movements. A sense of jealousy pinged somewhere deep and well hidden in Tamor she longed for that feeling of absolute trust. Without hesitation Tamor buried the feeling deeper hoping eventually she'd be able to suffocate it until it ceased to cause her pain.

The Necromancer engaged the two knights in a close range fight, a very unusual thing for a mage to do. Perhaps his vast years under the apparent tutelage of Dabel had infected his mind with such madness he had forgotten that he wasn't a god himself. A barrage of spells was unleashed as the Necromancer took on the first brother, Roland. Miraculously the swordsman had made his mark on the staff wielding mage but it hadn't come without repercussions. The mage was nimble Tamor noted as he had managed to catch Roland's armored arm and release magic energy that led him to crumpled onto the ground. Something overwhelmed the Necromancer as he doubled over in pain without any outside forces inducing it. Before the chance to finish off the swordsman arrived Percival stepped forward, now he too would receive the same fate. The second brother acted as more of a defensive wall his moved protected himself but also dealt blows given the opening. It was foolish courage and death was eminent if their battle continued much further. Without a second thought Tamor delivered a swift prayer to the Nine, then one separately for just Tella, her patron goddess. As the Necromancer was forced to defend himself his spells became more dangerous and sickly in power, he was a darkness that needed cleansing. All around Tamor the vile undead transformed into heaps of flesh and bone, their form had lost all its shape. In his hands he held two pieces of his staff, a battered Roland had somehow managed to slice through it at some point. Upon realization that his precious staff was damaged beyond repair the Necromancer went into a fit. Roland and Percival were at the end of a spell that threw them backwards. The elven archer, and newest member of the Knights of Ekilore joined the ranks of the brothers, as did the fainted mage. The sixty-foot gap between the duo and the rest of the knights was as noticeable as ever; Tamor wished they could unify their team.

"I-I-I need to get you out of here," Barely audible Tamor spoke directly to her companion who had regained enough strength to stand but not without assistance of his sword. The dark energy that shimmered around the Necromancer had intensified within the last few seconds; this was only the beginning of his mighty wrath upon them. She couldn't knowingly allow the Necromancer to steal another comrade away from her not even one she had to suffered abuse from. The Necromancer had summoned the wicked energy into creation that could've only come from Dabel's imagination, the aura that emitted from it made Tamor sick. Almost immediately he dealt out his spells to each of the Knights, some of them grabbed shields to protect themselves while others simply tried to dodge the attack to no avail.

"Get-" Words took up more time while actions were immediate. Tamor left the words in her mouth and hoped the risky moves she was about to take validated her words later on. The foul energy slammed its might into each one of the Knights threatening to dissolve their existence. Its reached was incredible; it had even managed to find Tamor and Auden who were over seventy feet away from where the Necromancer stood. Before the energy could make an impact Tamor launched herself forward, this life she had been given was of little meaning but Auden at least could complete the mission granted to them by the monks. Back toward the incoming assault Tamor's caring eyes rose up to meet Auden's dazed ones.

As the toxicity of the attack ate through Tamor's robes and flesh it surprisingly had managed to leave the insignia of Raelus' mage's guild untouched. Tamor fell to her knees despite her best attempt to stay upright; the spell bore and ripped its way deeper into her frail body as she clinched the dirt between her trembling fingers. Her skin had started to peel back in places where the sickly spell had briefly touched. It redden in color as the bubbles of puss and blood became apparent. Her nostrils caught the strong smell of her own disintegrating flesh; a pungent odor that left Tamor's sense of smell numb. The burns were more severe on her shoulders and triceps than anywhere else. Agony settled in it was more painful than Tamor had imagined, it increased with every passing second and heighten with the slightest of movements. The quickness of her actions had left her unable to summon the divine magic she held before the Necromancer displayed his frightening power. Words, divine words, held power too as Tamor made evident as she began chanting the hymns of the Holy Mother, Tella. A feeling of relief wash over her the wounds began the fast process of healing herself her damaged tissue reverted back to its previous state. The Necromancer's tricks were best used on those who lacked the power Tamor had been granted by the Nine. Energy restored itself, which gave her the ability to stand and face the spawn of Infernum, but what Tamor saw made her wish she had stopped standing. Swirls of sinister energy occupied itself between the hands of the Necromancer his eerie smile grew wider as the blacken flames did. Dabel had created those flames; they were wicked souls that threatened to consume Aerion in its entirety. Their darkness wafted throughout the entire room chilling Tamor to the bone, dark magic permeated Tamor's senses and thoughts. A pressure wrapped around her throat, the sheer force of it dropped Tamor back onto her knees with her hands clutching at her neck trying to break the strength of the wicked. The foul, corrupted aura created by dark mages was potent; it was an experience Tamor had never had the displeasure of encountering. It was tough, it was brutal, it was the exact opposite of the magic she used. Sanity and clarity was brought back through prayer Tamor stood on her feet though she felt ill the hymns, verses, and prayers that guided her day to day pushed her through the pain. She accepted her future fate as the nefarious flames of Infernum drew closer; it was her duty to protect Auden in his current weak state even if that meant directly taking vile spells.

Tamor stood up again; her reckless attitude had come to a surprise to Auden. Stupid girl. Auden thought as he shot air backwards throwing his body towards hers. In one fluid movement he wrapped himself around her front, and kicked her to the ground before turning to face the incoming flames. Before she went down Niolas flew up and away from the scuffle. "Damn." He said as he threw his arms out, releasing his own flames to block the Necromancer's destructive flames, though drained of his mana they did little more than slightly weaken the Necromancer's attack. The flames engulfed his body quickly, they burnt away most of his already dirty robes and the frontal skin as he forced out air magic to put the flames out and protect his face. The pain was immense as he turned back to Tamor with blood running down from his eyes and ears from the use of magic when he hadn't any mana or so he thought, an extremely dangerous practice that he'd never done before. He took a careful step backwards toward a grounded Tamor, he coughed blood, and it sprayed from his mouth. He brought up what was left of his robes to wipe the red substance off his face and grinned. It had been some time since he had fought this hard no one in quite some time had gotten his mana near this level, it was almost refreshing. He kept his composure and then he stared down at his toy that he had continually risked his life for with wonder.

A startled Tamor found herself being forcefully knocked to the ground. It was alarming as she saw the shadows of a man she thought was as good as gone, at least from this fight. His actions had honored his deal that he made with Tamor; he had protected her life instead of the other way around. The burns had consumed their fair amount of material, Tamor gasped as Auden turned toward her. His skin was seared; the dark mage's spell had performed a number on the Knight of Ekilore that stood before her. In an instant she gathered herself from the ground, she ignored the pain that throbbed and the fact that he had violently taken her down.

"A-A-Auden?" Tamor muttered meekly as she firmly pressed her hands onto the afflicted skin. It began to recover as soon as her hand was set against it, ""Why, why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I already told-" Auden started, but his vision became tinted with red as he looked straight at her blood leaked from a gash on his eyebrow. Unable to contain himself blood filled his mouth and was released as he was thrown into a coughing fit. He also bleed from the ears the blood dropped onto Tamor's hand, as she looked him in the eyes. "I'll protect you with my life."

What would've seemed like a sweet gesture only reminded Tamor that that was his obligation to her. Nonetheless her eyes began leaking liquid of their own but hers was clear in color, tears. "I need to get you out of here!" She slowly shifted her hands from his chest to his face hoping that the speed of his healing would increase if she were closer to the injury.

Despite the move the blood continued to flow from his brown eyes, Tamor's divine magic had managed to slow the rate of the flow but not completely able to stop it. Weakly he brought a hand to her cheek and wiped away her tears. "You're probably the only one who can beat him now," Auden stated clearly, and immediately coughed up more blood, some of it splattered onto Tamor's face while the rest dribbled down his face. "Don't worry about me," His body began swaying forward, for a second he almost fell forward onto his companion. "Go stop him Tamor."

"No, I can't, I won't leave you!" Tamor said with determination, the other Knights would do just fine, wouldn't they? "Y-you need me here and that's where I'll stay!" Her voice was filled with raw emotions, but the sound of fear was most prominent.

"If you don't kill him, I'll kill you instead." His words were forced; Auden had leaned in closer for a more personal effect. He then brought his other hand to the base her neck as if to emphasize his point even further.

Tamor disregarded the placement of his hand he had sworn to her that he would protect her life and that protection included his own attempts as well. "I'll protect you, but at least let me get you to safety!" Before he had a chance to reject Tamor positioned herself by his side and bared the burden of his weight.

Auden sick of her stalling picked her up by the neck, "Go now Tamor." Unlike hers his voice didn't displayed any emotions.

It wasn't right, Tamor shouldn't have to kill again not this fast. The Necromancer despite his wickedness was alive; he breathed the same air she did. As she scoured the battlefield she noted that her comrades were all incapacitated. It truly was up to her, but Tamor wasn't ready for that responsibility, what if she failed? If she took care of the Necromancer without killing him that would solve at least one of her problems. A burdened Tamor took her leave from Auden's space after she prompted him against a wall. Steps brought her closer than ever before to the man known as the Necromancer, her lips moved subconsciously reciting the last prayer.

"What do we have here? A scrawny haggard, I see." An overconfident tone was used as Tamor gotten within ten feet of the man.

"By thy wish thy will shall be fulfilled by the one true goddess, Tella," Tamor's words were no longer mumbles but audible sayings.

"Tella?" A heartily chuckle escaped from his mouth, Tamor found his disrespect appalling. "My lady, you're praying to the wrong god, for she is not I!"

As if 'I' was a cue the Necromancer threw up his hands, the same ones that had caused the death of many people, and returned the deadly fire to his hands once more. The only reaction that Tamor gave to this statement was the slow movement of her thin lips as she lowered her eyelids. The Prayer of the Nine took a lot of concentration and dedication to memorize the entire scripture. These flames appeared eager to serve their master and seemingly in response grew larger than before, Tamor readied herself as she summoned the restoration properties of her divine magic through her own enchantments. A perilous battle such as this was a key piece in their soon to be known history as Knights of Ekilore, this is where they would fail and perish or succeed in order to defend Aerion against greater evils. The energy wrapped around her tiny frame began to glow into a bright, golden hue as its ever-changing form began shifting into the familiar thin, flexible blades. Its comfort reassured Tamor of her safety and the power of the Gods and Goddesses that watched over her. By pressing firmly into the ground with her dominant foot Tamor sped forward with the speed three times her regular amount. As soon as Tamor's boot had made its imprint and left dust swirling in its absence the Necromancer released his burning rage. The flames approached Tamor at almost the same speed she was traveling at, they lapped up the oxygen and doubled in size. Quick as she could Tamor stopped in place and thrust her palms together in front of her, which made one single blade of energy and parted the flames as if it were made of water. Flames licked at her clothing and body yet were unable to completely consume her. How foolish was that to run into battle without a plan, especially with a foe that had consummated with the dark arts. Unfortunately, Tamor didn't have time to worry whether or not her comrades were in the way of the Necromancer's attacks. The gap between them was significantly less than it was before, it would be a game of cat and mouse with a slight twist from here on out. In an attempt to perfect her technique Tamor willed the blades of divine energy into sharper, longer, and more flexible versions of themselves.

Without a sound the Necromancer had ran forward, on a moment's instinct Tamor did the opposite, he clearly was trying to engage in close combat. A pile of bones lay in front of the Necromancer their cries of temptation were too loud for them to be ignored by the elder mage. One handedly he retrieved the leftovers of his old servants as he began casting dark magic with the other. Clueless, Tamor stood there with her eyes never leaving the sight of the ominous clouds that enveloped the bones that lay in his hands. The spell had tainted the appearance; they had been elongated and shifted into that of a longsword, standard hilt included. Here they were spell-casting mages yet the both occupied weapons that belonged to the less magically gifted. At that very second their eyes met and a chill ran down her spine, Tamor knew this was only the beginning of a battle that would only end in one of their demises. She brought her arms forward and thus crossing the Blades of Light, also the name Tamor had given the spell, before both opponents took off from their respective places toward one another. Their weapons kissed and kissed again, the Necromancer eyes brightly gleamed as he pressed more of his weight into his newly crafted weapon into the middle of Tamor's crossed blades. The Necromancer moved boldly, his moves were strong and without hesitant while Tamor's moves told a different tale. She moved around the battlefield gracefully making light and carefully timed movements. As fast as they had come together they split apart repeatedly, their constant clashing resulted their separate energies meeting. Swirls of bright gold and deep indigo combated at each other neither gaining the upper hand when they clashed. Both parties grew tiresome of their back and forth combat going nowhere but only one was devilish enough to try a new tactic.

"I heard a tale once, care to hear it?" His voice irritated Tamor, he was trying to sound regal but he was no king nor god. The Necromancer continued without an answer, "Tella was not the good deity she is now made out to be."

"Speak another ill word and you shall find yourself without a tongue," Tamor spat, those who dare utter treacherous words against The Nine deserved an eternity in Infernum.

"Tella was nothing more than a harlot, more so than that Alksa Goddess," The Necromancer stated with a wave of his hand as if it were an everyday fact. He continued with his fable, "In fact, I'm willing to wager that Tella has laid with any major deity in that pathetic religion, females included. She never could control herself!"

Tightly she clinched her fist, Tamor seethed with anger and her face contorted with rage as she breathed forceful breaths through her nostrils. Powerful emotions clouded her easily influenced judgments, she knew this yet Tamor couldn't allow him to get away with it. His speech had come at a price, his life. It was time to get serious Tamor thought as she removed her robes in a hurried fashion, which left her in just a white shirt, beige pants, and her always present Mage's Hood. In a flash she became a blur filled with a mixture of anger and determinedness. The Necromancer had already predicted her path and twisted his body according to avoid the mass of golden energy that threatened him. His sword followed his twist in an outward horizontal motion; it sliced deep into Tamor's leg as she had moved passed him. Blood soaked the tip of his bone blade, a maniacal laugh escaped from the deranged mage's mouth. He taunted Tamor as she stood their checking her first injury it was needless to worry seeing as her magic had already ceased the blood flow and worked at closing the wound altogether. It was clear that this spell of hers wasn't something the Necromancer had been expecting as he let out a string of ancient curses. Any worry his face had shown had soon faded, the dark mage had fought plenty of divine mages and they all perished beneath his godly might. The anger hadn't eased up from Tamor's mind as she launched herself forward for another set of attacks on the Necromancer. Her attacks were sloppy, there was brute force behind them but that was it. There wasn't any coordination or strategic thinking happening as Tamor raged on. Deflection was a skill that the Necromancer became well versed in he waited for openings in her attacks and then struck blows that cut far into the skin. Blood seeped into her vision, Tamor already seeing red carried on with her vendetta. The battle had become personal, it had become the Necromancer's playground in Tamor's mind. His twisted words fueled the rage that flickered inside her he had discovered her weakness and exploited it without hesitation, a devious man indeed. His voice penetrated the deepest layers of her psyche, his effect on an individual was astonishing. The words hadn't only affected Tamor's psyche but her magic that included the energy that surrounded her. Its shimmer became more similar to that of an electric current, which caused the effectiveness of her moves to lower as it shifted back and forth between the two states.

It didn't take long for the Necromancer to gather more bones from the various piles that littered the battlefield he was now being chased around. His newest trick had almost come to fruition, Tamor didn't even see the smirk that overcame his face, she was much too busy botching attacks. Her loss of breath was evident by the way her shoulders moved up and down rigorously every time she stopped in place. Closing her unfocused eyes in battle wasn't a good plan but they burdened her like weights she couldn't lift so she allowed them to rest momentarily. Immediately she felt something painfully bore itself her leg, her throat echoed this sentiment. With her eyes now wide open she noticed the thin, white barbs that were connected to a thicker central source, a bone, which was now partly buried in her flesh. They were identical to the ones the Necromancer now twirled in his hands with a sneer. Insistent pain throbbed in her leg, this was a noticeable difference between this attack and any other attack the dark mage had landed thus far. Swears trickled out of her mouth, trying to remove the source of pain resulted in bloody fingertips as she was pricked by the moving barbs. There was a slight vibration, a trick the other mage must have implemented in order to stop the healing process and prolong the agony. The knight with a sword would have to surgically remove it with under her strict direction unless he had prior experience in the medical field, which is most certainly doubted. Unfortunately what they lacked was alcohol to sterilize the warrior's weapon before he cut into her flesh, but this was all assuming she would finish this battle alive. Pain had helped subside her anger, which brought her clearer thoughts back to the forefront of her mind once again. A scarcely scathed Necromancer beckoned more energy into his hands via incantations. The tongue he used was strange and made little sense to the divine mage. Its color was a blend of indigo and black, almost as black as his soul she imagined that was if he had retained his. The consequence of letting the spell come forth towards her was a fate that she didn't wish to experience in this lifetime or the next. In a clear effort to distance herself from the enemy Tamor took a few willing steps backwards, just enough to give herself enough breathing room as she went through the thought process of her next move.

An increasingly foul smell came from the mass of energy that formed into maturation in the deadly hands of the dark mage. Decisiveness wasn't her strong suit, as she knew at any moment the spell would need to be combated. It wouldn't be an easy task especially since her energy had transformed into a form that she hadn't previously tested out. An opportunity like this was the best instance for her to appease some of her curiosity but it was also threatening if somehow it tipped in his favor. Calmly she stood there a mere twenty feet away from the doom cloud that loomed in the Necromancer's palms as his incantation came to an end. Energy no longer extended outside the amount that flowed over her body but instead what appeared to be zigzag lines. When she commanded it to all gather at her palms it created a massive sparking amount of energy that wasn't easily contained. Luckily the Necromancer had released his spell into the battlefield, which allowed Tamor to do the same. She thought of the natural electrical element and eased into controlling it that way, the way Tella would do it. Her limited time of possessing this trait had worked mostly in her favor yet the spell still ate through her spell and embraced Tamor with a repulsive touch. Her organs seized up, her skin began peeling backwards turning black and brittle while some of it fell off into chunks. A classic rotting spell, her insides and outsides were gaining the appearances of festered wounds full of puss. This spell would be the ultimate undoing to any spell caster that hadn't be knowledgeable in the arts of healing. Eislynn had been a supreme magician in the way she wielded the divine arts she was blessed with having and passed those skills onto her sole apprentice, Tamor. Overcoming the effects of the spell was relatively easy once she boosted the speed of her internal recovery spell. Like any fighter would have done Tamor was on top of the Necromancer's movements before he had a chance to cast another spell. Her speed had been affected by the bone-barb stuck in her leg and the more she disregarded the pain the more it throbbed in response. Gifted in agility wasn't only the younger mage but the elder as well; her golden blur was matched with a dark indigo one. The discharge of her energy sparks was the only weaponry she had at her disposal that slowed the actions of her opponent; its stunning effects were incredible. Overall damage had yet to be fully assessed as Tamor couldn't handle a lot of it without explosive results. Tamor was uncertain; she didn't want to dispose of him, but was there any other way to finish this battle? Tella wouldn't approve of all this bloodshed yet would the rest of the Council of Nine? It was a tricky move, if she went behind Tella's back the results wouldn't be pretty. Perhaps if she received their blessings it would potentially outweigh the outrage of Tella.

Thoughts of the Gods and Goddesses soon vacated her mind as she collected the minimal thoughts on how to proceed with the battle at hand. She bled from the thigh leaving her pants ruined with bloodstains like the condition her shirt. Being on the offensive now was for the best option as she could do it at a further range now that she had Tella's Bolts, the name she had given to this newly founded spell, at her bloodied fingertips. She released a wave of energy sparks at the man who was an opposition to her and the rest of the Knights of Ekilore, and watched as the spell sizzled and crackled his wardrobe and didn't feel the least bit sorry from him. Preoccupied with the state of advancements of her powers she had failed to notice the distance that had shorten between the dueling foes. The frequency of her attacks had certainly showed in the Necromancer's clothing and physical body. Bruises and scrapes were in a multitude of locations where the eye could see and even where it couldn't see. Though, from his lack of grunts and explicit words one wouldn't have known that he had suffered any blows. Her mind wandered back to her fellow companions she had hoped that any stray spell casting hadn't done too much damage or been aimed near them and if so they were properly able to avoid them altogether. In a move that Tamor hadn't been expecting the fearless, heartless and cruel man held his arms out to her as he took several bolds steps forward. Her guard lowered as the curiosity to what he had planned infiltrated her thoughts, did he truly believe this would end the battle? Before she had the chance to objectify to the grasp Tamor was in the Necromancer's arm. A smug look graced his face, it was baneful in appearance but Tamor couldn't see this and was stunned at the event-taking place. The villainous mage had opened his robes between he crossed the field yet what he had concealed underneath went unnoticed by the other mage. His own ribs had been disgustingly disfigured, they themselves protruded outside his skin. In their current position his risqué plan had gone off without a hitch, his lips moved silently as the embraced soon became uncomfortable with how tight the Necromancer was holding on. The malformed bones of his body penetrated Tamor with efficiency; she hadn't a chance to pull away before they were all the way through. Their size grew as the muted words continued out of the Necromancer's foul mouth, he had accomplished his fiendish trickery. The screams died in her throat as a hand wrapped around her mouth, and the Necromancer allowed himself to stare into her golden eyes reveling in the pain she was in. Fits of coughs led to the removal of his hands, which let the blood flow from her mouth freely. The jagged tips of the bone spears were painted red with the blood of his enemy. His face lit up as he threw himself into a fit of laughter, he had defeated the so-called Knights of Ekilore and thwarted any so-called threat. Gods never lost, and that was proven in this battle, but it was a shame that no one would ever know the exact details that took place down here unless he wrote it himself. Barely conscious Tamor laid limp on his broad shoulder, the shame and guilt washed over her. How had she let one of the most dangerous men she has ever met take her in his arms or come within five feet of her? Very much alike to the injury in her leg she felt a vibration in the six holes that pierced through her body just underneath her chest, three medium size holes on the left and right for a grand total of six. A twitch in her sore arms gave her the last shred of hope; if she gathered the energy it might be enough. He was too arrogant to believe that there was any hope of her surviving that attack. In the same fashion as the Necromancer her lips parted with no sound coming from them. It was a prayer, but not to one single deity but to the entire council. The Power of the Council Prayer was one of the most unified prayers that were in the religion. Energy sizzled to life under the strict commandment of the prayer, its bidding awoken a strength Tamor believed she lost as soon as the embrace began. Zapping energy struck the Necromancer and stunned him, which in turned stopped the vibrations of the bones. Instantly sealing the wounds and the bones in place. Unable to break away the Necromancer still tried to struggle; he couldn't believe this was happening he had already won! Numb in feeling Tamor placed her palms on each side of the Necromancer's head and brought herself to stare into his glowing eyes. The zigzagged energy grew in size until it was enough to cover her opponent's entire body as well as hers. A breath was let out as Tamor put forth the remaining energy she had into one explosive gathering of golden energy bolts. His howling for mercy was soon stopped as the power had ripped through the Necromancer's body with deadly results. The ceiling soon gave in and buried what was left of the sinister mage under several pounds of debris; his soul belonged in Infernum now with Dabel and Lilyth. Tamor stumbled, she fell backwards unsure of where her fellow journeymen were but also unsure of her own health. There she lay gasping for breath unable to move her lips in order to say the enchantments she needed to increase the healing process. Tamor felt angst as she verily believed that there would be tedious work involved into ridding herself of the lacerations the Necromancer had created on her as if she were his misguided muse gone wrong. Blood started to pool around her body soaking her backside yet Tamor lips formed into something she hadn't done in awhile, a smile. In an unusual fashion she had conquered their first real enemy, but they would only get stronger and more difficult from here on out. For the first time since they had left Oculus Tower Tamor really felt as if she was a Knight of Ekilore.
​

The glowing orb of the sun sat high in the expansive blue sky beating back any clouds that tried to form in the clear sky. The sound of waves could be heard crashing against the not so far away cliffs while the taste of salt hung in the air. It was a beautiful day in the Golden Islands, one the citizens hadn't had in a long time. The Seaquails sprinted for shelter amidst the brush as an arrow ploughed into the ground only centimetres from their feathery bodies, squawking madly.

"Hah! You missed!" Victoria taunted the muscled boy beside her.

"Closer than you could have ever made," he retorted, making his way through the brush to retrieve the arrow now sprouting from the ground.

"Sure," from his previous position she notched her Bow, drawing the string back before letting it fly.

"Watch it!" He cried as the arrow imbedded itself into the thin, sinewy tree by his head.

As she joined him in retrieving her arrow from the tree, he grabbed her, pulling her in tight to his muscled body. She could do nothing but look into those hazel eyes of hers that stared back at her, almost as if they were staring into her. She could not doubt it, there was definitely something flying between them but there was no way it could ever work out. She was the second child of a Major House, while she wouldn't become the successor to her parents, she would be wed off to one of the other Major Houses in order to form a closer alliance and an even closer chance at the Throne of Ethora. Tyler was the first son of the town blacksmith, he wasn't quite royalty, he was nowhere near her status as an individual and so they never could be an item. But she could not shake the feelings she had for him.

"Hands off, I'm royalty," she spoke, nose high in the air.

"Ha, you're not royalty, far from it." He pulled her in closer.

"We'll see about—", Victoria didn't have time to finish before one of her parent's heralds interrupted their time together.

"Oh, uh, sorry I didn't mean to interrupt," the herald stuttered, taken aback by how close the two of them were, "your presence is needed in the royal chambers immediately."

Victoria could tell from the urgency of the page's voice that it was important. "Tyler, I'll be back," was all she said once she managed to extract herself from the boy's weakened grip.

The page was less knowledgeable of the terrain than Victoria, and as such, she left her far behind as she tore her way through the sometime thorny underbrush. All manner of thoughts began racing through her mind, faster than she raced through the underbrush, but no manner of thought could have prepared her for what was to come. Storming through the doors of Rowanion Keep, she bolted up the stairs, and down the halls, disturbing a number of the maids in their day to day rituals of maintaining the keep. Down one hall and up the other, she burst into the large room that was reserved for her family affairs, only to find Elizabeth and Alexander swamped by officials.

"Eliza, Alex, what happened?" She gasped through large intakes of breath.

"Vic, how nice of you to join us," Elizabeth's soft voice commented, yet something sounded off about it.

"Eliza, what's wrong?" Victoria pushed forward, making her way across the room and past the surrounding officials to find both Elizabeth and Alexander sitting on chairs, Alexander as pale as the White Jellyfish that washed up on their shores while Elizabeth hid beneath he large sleeves. "No, no, no, no, no no!" She continued to yell, tears now flowing more freely from her eyes.

A small piece of parchment fell from her sister's grasp, addressed to the three siblings. The parchment was charged at the edges, the letters faded with wear and from salt water exposure, yet she could make out the barely legible Ethoran script that belonged to their Swords Master. Her hands shook as she picked the letter up off the cold stone floor, her heart racing within her chest.

Dearest Elizabeth, Victoria and Alexander Taimor,

Whilst sailing back from Ashera, our ships were attacked by the Mages of Raelus. I hope this letter finds you, but I regret to inform you that your parents did not make it past the first barrage, and that my ship is soon to fall.

For Kin and Country,

Swords Master Daemon Kerrigan

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The letter fell from her trembling hands as she sunk to her knees. One of the officials tried to console her but she dropped her shoulder, letting their hand slide off. As tears flowed from her eyes, she cursed the Burning King and his madness; she cursed each and every one of the mages that burnt her parents' ships to the bottom of the floor. She cursed the gods that hung over their heads for forsaking her parents to die a watery grave. Getting to her feet, she sprinted out of the hall, the heavily robed officials barely managing to catch up with her as she fled the scene, tearing through the castle and out the gates. She raced through the town, tears flying behind her as she ran full pelt away from the damaged parchment with its damned words.

Standing on the southernmost beach of Rowanion's island, she screamed, yelled and cursed at the murderous outline of Roleston. She spat profanities, swore curses and yelled, fully enraged at the Burning King whose orders took her parents from her. "Dabel shall twist your soul in Infernum until the end of time! Lilyth's demonspawn shall feast on your bone marrow while you wail in pain."

Tyler's grip once again encompassed her entire body as she let herself slip into his grasp. Burying her face into his chest she cried in pain at the loss of her parents, she cried at how helpless and distracted she had been when they had ultimately met their fate. "By the Gods, I vow that my arrow shall strike down the Burning King, my face will be the last he sees before the demonspawn of Infernum drag him to its depths."

"Shh, don't say such things, Victoria," Tyler consoled her, stroking her hair.

"Tyler, I will one day make my way to Rolsten, when that day comes I shall have an arrow in my quiver, one with the Burning Kings' damned name on it. I will pierce him through the throat and watch his life drain from his eyes. Only when I do that, will I allow myself to live."

"Victoria, do not do this," Tyler's voice was chocked up, by Victoria had sworn to the Gods. Pushing Tyler away, she made her way back to the castle, dragging her feet through the town as the townspeople, her townspeople watched with sadness in their eyes. In the distance, she could hear the bells tolling, announcing to the city and nearby isles the deaths of her parents.​

"Victoria, I would like you to meet…"

"I know who he is," she spoke, cutting Elizabeth off, "and I've already told you, I will not go through with it."

"Could you excuse us for a moment, kind sers?" Elizabeth addressed the Knight and his accompaniment. They had travelled far, from one of the northern houses of Ethora, a partnership Elizabeth had spent the last couple of months setting up to further consolidate her rule over the Golden Islands.

"I told you Eliza, I'm not marrying some North Ethoran swine! He probably has disease riding in his pants!" Victoria spat.

"This marriage, Victoria, is the one way we can show the other Major Houses that House Taimor is still within its ranks! It is necessary that you two marry to consolidate this alliance!" Elizabeth pressed on, urging her sister to consider the proposal. The man was from a wealthy Major House and quite dashing looking as well.

"If it's so important, then why don't you marry him?"

"I have my own marriage prepared. We can even get married at the same time in the eyes of the Gods. It will be a wedding befitting our Major House status."

"I said no, Eliza, and I stand by it. There is no way in Infernum you will make me marry him!"

"Hold your tongue, I am the leader of this House, and my word goes. You will marry the kind Ser and you will be a good wife to him."

"Our parent's didn't die and make you Queen, so I refuse to go through with this ridiculous proposal!"

"Our parent's died and I was put in charge. So yes, my word is law, and I AM Queen around here, just because you're my sister, doesn't mean you can go running off with the blacksmith's boy! Oh don't look so betrayed, everyone knows of your little fling with him, it's the talk of the town and besmirches our parents' good name!" Elizabeth was beyond furious now.

Calling her officers to let the kind Sers back into the room, both ladies resumed their facades as the men knelt in front of them. "Lady Victoria of the House Taimor, will gladly accept your offer of betrothal, she will depart with your contingent in the morning," Elizabeth spoke, much to Victoria's disgust, "We thank you for your patience and kind offer you have endowed us with." Smiling, the Sers thanked both the ladies before returning to the guest chambers she had provided with them.

"I'll be in my room, packing," Victoria announced, leaving the room and ascending towards her chambers. Once inside, she tore off the Ethoran silk dress Elizabeth had made her wear and tossed it to the floor like discarded rags. From her drawers she drew her hunting leathers, strapping herself into the tight fabric before slinging bow and quiver over her back. In a rucksack, she piled as many clothes as it could handle for the journey ahead. Victoria separated her coins into pouches, stashing them in her boots, quiver, rucksack, almost anywhere that would hold and conceal them.

"What do you think you are doing?" Elizabeth's voice rang through her room, shattering Victoria's concentration.

"I'm sick of this, I refuse to listen to you anymore. You sold my soul to this Ethoran swine and I refuse to go through with the marriage. You have no control over me, none at all! I never want to be your sister again, I never want to see your face ever again!"

"Victoria, listen to me please!" Elizabeth was far from pleading, verging on ordering Victoria to follow her orders; but this was an issue Elizabeth had no control over Victoria with. "You have to marry him; it will strengthen our ties with much of Ethora."

"Mother and Father may have left you in charge, but you will never control me. Never!" Victoria's blood was boiling as she shouted at her sister within her private chambers.

A cool breeze washed over Victoria as the sun hit her hunting leathers strapped to her body. Now she had her hunting leathers strapped tightly to her body, bag slung over one shoulder and ready to head out. Victoria would miss the friends she had made with the populous of Rowanion, but she needed to get away, she needed to escape the grip her sister had on her. The marriage had been the final straw, she was cutting her ties with the family, for both sides, she would cease to exist on a familial plane.

"Goodbye, sister…"​

Sickly smelling potions mixed in with the thick, moist air of Currilan as Alys stirred in her sleep. From darkness she could hear voices beyond, but not close enough for her to identify what they were saying or who they belonged to. Images flashed before her eyes as her mind reeled from all the new information now pouring into her brain. Last she remembered, she had been backed up against a stone wall, bow in hand and vision blurred so badly it was just a mess of colours. Her arms had drawn back the bow, letting it fly before relaxing once again. Blurred images flashed past again, a hulking figure falling to his knees before Alys' vision shifted and her body lurched. She felt the pain as something, someone carried her out of the dark caves and into the blinding light of day. That light continued to beat down on her as seven or either shadows waved about, above her blurred vision. She felt needles jap her skin, pulling the flesh together and people yelling, ordering each other about as the poured over her. She lay there feeling helpless, wishing that her one friend, Castiel, could be beside her.

From her window, and all too familiar squawk rang in her ears, and in the pale moonlight, the silhouette of a large falcon draped across her bed. With a flutter of wings, she felt Castiel's sharp beak brush against her cheek. He nudged her gently, as if to cast his concern for her health, but she smiled weakly at him, hoping he would understand that she was fine. He had watched over her sleeping body like a guardian angel, never leaving for longer than it took for him to find a field mouse to munch down on.

"Castiel, my friend" she croaked, "I missed you." She struggled to raise a hand, putting all her effort into patting the feather friend's soft plumage. He squawked again before nestling by her shoulder.

One of the healers came into the room to see what the commotion was, relaying to the other healers on staff that Alys was awake and, more importantly, alive. She drunk deeply from the stagnant tasting water they gave her, her throat drier than the deserts of Rastra. While the water was foul, she assumed that no doubt it contained several medicinal herbs that would aid in her recovery. Once finished, they helped to prop her up in her weakened state.

"How, how long have I been asleep for?" Alys asked wearily.

"A week, miss," one of the healers slipped.

"A week? Where are the others, are they still here?" She pushed, she felt bad for getting seriously injured in battle, but she hoped they hadn't just left her to die in Currilan.

"Relax, miss, they are in the tavern-proper, discussing amongst themselves. Once we have you ready, we will take you to them."

Finally relieved, Alys relaxed back into the warm bed she had been lying in. From how it sounded, it seemed like she was the only one to get badly injured, which she cursed herself for even getting into such a situation in the first place. She was an Archer after all; Archers had no place being in close-combat like she had run head on into. While she let the healers check up on her, she turned her head to watch Castiel now resting on the window sill. They had been to Infernum and back before, but this time she had come closer to the Death Lands more than ever. Remembering the vow she took those many years ago only solidified in her mind that she was almost ready to depart from this group of mercenaries to take on the one man she had vowed to kill.

With Castiel by her side, Alys felt near unstoppable.​

The days and nights flashed by Tamor, she had awakened in a slightly groggy state alone. Niolas had refused to come beneath the deck, not that she blamed him, as he liked his freedom. Recalling brief moments of consciousness from days past enabled her to fit some of the pieces to her puzzle together. Before the Necromancer's inevitable defeat surprisingly by her own hands Tamor had managed to maneuver her hands into a position where she could snatch the jewel they were after. Unconsciousness seized her but not until after she watched the light glimmer off the surface of the precious shard. One of the other knights must have pried it from her hands as the next time she awoken it was gone, but at least they had retrieved it. Shock was still settling in, their foe, a tough one at that, had fallen at her might. Power had pulsed through her during those last few actions, a power that she hadn't felt before. Almost as if she had tapped into a different side of the same divine source, though Tamor didn't let herself dwell on it too much. The party had come and gone in a flash, The Knights of Ekilore had been chanted more times than she had imagined was possible. Not to mention the individuals that had thanked her and spoke kinds words, words she hadn't heard in quite some time. Yoshuro even had her robes repaired by the best seamstress in Shinguo. Happiness settled in, even though it wouldn't last long Tamor still soaked it in while she could. It hadn't lasted long at all once Yoshuro announced their next destination to his friend, his friend The Burning King. Enjoyment came in sparse moments after that, Raelus was a haunting memory that kept coming back to her like a nightmare. Anything enjoyable about Raelus had died with Eislynn her divine arts mentor. The Bellfiends were a prominent elven family in Raelus due to their military involvement, her grandfather, Tamnor Bellfiend, was very high in the chain of command yet Tamor's caring had stopped her from learning what position he was. While her mother, Anyine Bellfiend the Censmage (second in command), had taken stake in the Mage's Guild that was responsible for fireballs that gave the King his title. More Bellfiends took hold in other places, but Tamor hadn't had a lesson in her family history, either side.

Curiosity brought her to the deck, where she spotted some yet not all of the knights. Percival and Roland were conversing amongst themselves, would it be frowned upon to go up to them? A brown shape dove down from the vast, blue sky and perched itself comfortably on her left shoulder. Approaching individuals was a hard task for Tamor as she never knew what to talk about, and she doubted they wanted her company. She stood there idly lost in thought of the perfect way to begin a conversation with two armored men she should trust with her life in the future.

As Percival turned around to retire for some time, he almost literally bumped into Tamor, the hero of Shinguo. "Oh, hello there! Feeling any better?"

A minor collision snatched her mind from its wandering state and brought her back to reality, Percival Grey stood before her. "M-me?" Tamor stammered and then preceded to look both left and right before she determined he indeed was speaking to her. "I'm-I'm healing at a steady rate now, are-are you okay?"

"We shall be fine," Roland interjected, looking up and down the woman before staring off to the sea. "You should look to your own wounds, if you still have any. I'm not sure how the Rolstenians deal with pain." He said, forming a grin on his face, clearly insulting the woman. The extent of Roland's racism was beyond that for the elves and dwarves, but also for other continents and nations. In fact, he viewed more favorably those from Ethora than anywhere else, but perhaps most particularly in Bludrock. "Ah, but then again, you did quite well against the summoner of the dead."

"Ignore him. Roland tends to be judgmental of others. He considers you a valuable ally nonetheless," Percival said, trying to make up for Roland's lack of manners.

As if the golden hawk could sense the maliciousness behind the insult he puffed out his feathers in an attempt to appear threatening, while Tamor lowered her eyes instead of making eye contact with the other brother. The insult ingrained itself into Tamor, its roots taking hold of her emotions for an instant before she overcame it. "Once we get hom- to Raelus I'm sure The Burning King would be overzealous to show you, Ser Knight." Tamor replied, and then nodded to Percival. "As I consider you both, and I thank you all for without all our efforts I-I couldn't have…" Her voice trailed off as the battle memories flashed through her mind.

"Oh, come now, none of that," Roland said, walking up to Tamor, and placing a hand upon her shoulder. "You are a Gods damned Knight of Ekilore. Have some pride for your position and yourself. You shan't survive if you do not develop some sort of amour-propre in your own abilities." He walked passed the woman, staring towards the back of the deck as a few sailors worked. The Captain shouted orders to them as he steered the ship. "Moreover," Roland began again, still gazing over the back of the ship as he addressed her. "I should like to know more about our next destination and its...respectful sovereign. Tell me, what can you tell me about Raelus, and the one who calls himself the Burning King?"

"The 'Burning King' is a pompous bastard who enjoys terrorizing his citizens, purely for the advancement of his nation. His nation being his own coffers of course." the elf woman, Dulinhel, spoke from where she sat unnoticed till now at the bow of the ship. Her whetstone scraped against the blade she held in her hand, the metal flashing as a new edge for the blade was honed. Sighing, she sheathed the blade underneath the cloak of hers, and stood joining the rest of the group. "As ambassadors from Ekilore, he shouldn't cross us. That doesn't mean he wont find some way to profit from our visit, however."

The sudden urge to defend her sovereignty was a feeling almost all Raelussians felt when their King was insulted in such terms especially from an outsider. "My King, my king is just. Our nation prospers, our people too. The citizens of Raelus are tough and with that requires a staunch King, his ways may be... unyielding or may intimidate but leading Raelus takes a Burning King." The meekness in her voice fell away, though Tamor did not met the elven woman's eyes for fear of her own identity falling away. Granted Tamor had only met the Burning King thrice, could she let his honor be questioned? His Majesty didn't take well to criticism that much was well known throughout the land. Auden was surely a better source of information, after all he served the King as a solider she recalled. "Efficiency, safety, and victory is what he has brought to our realm, each King has their own methods but lets not disregard the results."

Roland began to chuckle. "Spoken like a true drone embracing the doctrine of a madman. But I suppose you are free to believe what you wish. Although truth be told, from what you have described, his methods may be unconventional, but he is perhaps an effective ruler." Roland turned now to the elf Dulinhel. "And you? What of your story? I expect to be a bit more familiar with those I shall fight with, especially the ones who had not joined us in Ekilore."

The elf gave a slight smile at the knight. "My history is not particularly important, not to you at least. Most of it is long and boring, nothing you would be interested in. As for not being at Ekilore, the Elven Council and I have...not been on good terms as of late. I heard about your quest, and having nothing else to do at the moment, have decided to accompany you!" She started walking away from the group, down to the lower levels of the ship. As she strode away, she called over her shoulder, "If it helps, I could have killed you much earlier. Doesn't make much sense to tag along just to kill you later." And with that she was gone.

Percival frowned, "And here I was going to ask for a bit of a story."

"Elves do not have much to tell. They are too busy chanting prayers for the Gods' mercy deep in the woods, or something of the like." Roland said, ridiculing their new elven companion as she left the others.

"And you Ser Knights, what tales do you have for us?" Ethorian men they were, Tamor knew that much. "Or tales to spin in your case," Tamor turned toward the elder brother. The jest was lighthearted, but Tamor had no doubt Ser Roland Grey had plenty of tales to tell. In Raelus there was rarely news of Ethora besides the civil war they were on the brink of. Palaven, Ellessar, and Bredon were all that was told. An earlier memory came forth to Tamor's mind, hesitation gripped her as she didn't want to seem too prying. "Brothers, yet you wear... wore different sigils. Surely there must be a tale in that?"

"That is due to our differing allegiances," Percival began, not giving Roland the chance to speak at all. He already knew how Roland was going to respond, first with bias then with criticism. A story free of such, one of the truth was what Tamor deserved. "While it is true, we are brothers, you have no doubt seen that we do not see eye to eye on most issues. This is partially due to how we were raised, but moreso with a difference in personality. My personality and idealism was not welcome in the House of Grey or of House Reigncliff, of which House Grey is sworn to. I decided to leave and ally myself with House Welm because of that," Percival paused briefly. "Lord Robert Welm is a different leader than Lord Hector, lacking his ambition but he displays concern for his people. I much rather follow such a man like that, rather than a warmonger. Though being from Raelus, you may not have such an option, but I imagine you could sympathize at least."

"That is your problem, Percival," Roland interjected, crossing his arms as he glared at his younger brother. It was a conversation he would have rather had in private, but he couldn't contain his disappointment with his brother any longer. "You think and speak like a philosopher when you should act like a knight. I care not your personal feelings for Hector, or House Reigncliff. Why do you not understand that as a knight, your duty is bound to your House, and to the house of your master? Even if you do not agree with their politics, you must service your lord, with your life if need be! It is not about preference, it is about loyalty." He turned, glaring at Tamor for a moment, before returning his gaze to Percival again. "And even if it was, I see no problems with Lord Hector to begin with. He is a fine leader, and a man worthy to be called King of Ethora. In fact, I intend to make it so."

Percival sighed, holding his head, dragging his fingers across his face, before looking over to Roland. "Loyalty has blinded you more than I can hope. Truthfully, I suppose this is expected of you. You never once considered that Hector is not fit to be king have you? The man is nothing more than a glorified general, fighting Eliwood's wars and protecting his self-absorbed pride with axes and armor. The man is no king, brother. You would see that if you did something else with your time other than fight in tournaments and bend your knee."

Roland gritted his teeth angrily, but decided to conclude the argument, figuring later they would have a chance to continue it should they choose to, and he was certain they would. "Bah...enough of that. I am more interested in your... companion, Auden. You two seem to be on quite friendly terms. Did you know of him before the arrival in Ekilore, or do Raelussians naturally develop bonds that quickly?"

"He's..." Not Human. Sadistic. A demon spawn from Infernum. All of these in one, but Tamor knew she couldn't speak a word of it. At the exact moment of the mention of the name "Auden" Niolas body posture became aggressive in manor. Her body, small in frame, began to show her utmost uncomfortableness, Tamor continued, "An old family friend, and a protector of sorts, much more than I could ever ask for." It was weird, she never thought of how much Auden truly meant to her, but he had sworn an oath to protect her life in exchange for his secretive nature being kept and just that. Tella only knew the fate that was in store if she accidentally let it slip, Astrum nor Tella were things she wasn't quite ready to be introduced to just yet. Any such feelings to the same degree were very unlikely, Tamor knew, rather convinced, that only she was only a continuous nuisance to him and a means to further fulfill his urges. "Raelussians only truly trust their king, you're below a low-born fool to believe anything else."

"Hmm..." Roland hummed, looking intently at Tamor as if wondering in which way he should reply. He eventually shrugged. "I suppose 'tis luck that drew the pair of you together on this quest, then. I suppose since the two of you are among us, I imagine your influence in Raelus will be beneficial to our ventures there? You would have some influence in your own country, I expect?"

A bite on her lower lip temporarily paused her reply, graciously giving her time enough to ponder her response. "We-I..." Tamor thought it best she only spoke for herself given loss of Auden and hers relationship had for seven years, "Yes, of the military persuasion." Given that Tamor had introduced herself as Tamor Bell from Raelus as a poor attempt to conceal her background. Baring the last name Bellfiend was a sizable weight to carry, especially in Eldur. "You only matter in Raelus if you're from a strong, victorious military family or high born," Tamor stated matter-of-factly.

"Hmph." Roland let a grin spread across his face as he stepped over to the front of the ship, looking toward the sea to the direction of the country Tamor described. "I am beginning to like our destination more and more."

"Yeah," Tamor sighed, whatever events that happened in Raelus were bound to have her encounter various obstacles and challenges. What the Nine had in fate for her, specifically Tella, Tamor only wish she knew. But a seer she was not, and Raelus was her home no matter how much a distaste she had for it at times.

"At least someone is..."
​

The journey to Raelus had been once again been a long and tiresome boat trip, leaving Auden to vent his frustration on infrequently on Tamor. Their relationship had slowly been growing closer, with Tamor starting to show slight pleasure every now and then at his touch. They had stopped at Old Zealand on their way to Raelus, a peculiar place with a so-called "Harem King" who ruled over it. It was a fairly lax island, in Auden's mind at least, but was a nice change of pace; especially when compared to being stuck on a boat for weeks straight. The boat trip was overly calm through the famous traders waters, allowing for plenty of time for the knights to converse with each other, though this rarely happened as they had seemed to have already formed smaller groups within the larger one. The few conversations Auden had with the others had been rather tedious, except for the egotistical Roland, whose personality tempted Auden greatly; nothing better than crushing someone who thinks they are better than you.

Finally, their travel ended as the Knights made land at Biskar. As he disembarked, he took in his surroundings. It was a typical military port, very common in Raelus, most of the ships that were docked were mainly military ones, bringing slight nostalgia to Auden as he reminisced about his time as a Privateer while climbing up the ranks. One particular skirmish with the Palvanese came to mind as he recognised a ship that he had fought besides. That particular battle had been rather enjoyable as the small fleet he was a part of had ambushed a larger Palvanese fleet. The battle was short and destructive as the mages of Raelus, Auden included, decimated the Palvanese before they had a chance to react. The burning ships lead the sea to appear as if it was on fire, a pleasing sight in Auden's eyes.

Two guards approached Auden as he walked along the dock, trying to get him to stop before seeing his RMC uniform as his robe parted with his steps. Nodding in respect the guards moved aside as Auden continued onwards, leaving his "comrades" behind to deal with the (local Customs and such.) Leaving the hassle behind he made his way through the port with ease, towards the (information place/board). After committing the faces of the main wanted people to his mind he turned and left for the stables to procure a horse.

Quick to notice Tamor watched as Auden made a swift departure away from the rest of the knights, including her. An aching ping ran rampant in her, had she done something ill in meaning to upset him? Tamor had not noticed any eagerness in him to return to Raelus, but perhaps she had wrongly observed. Despite being kept in enjoyable (sans Roland) company Tamor couldn't detain the almost overwhelming feelings she had to return to Auden's side. Was there an understandable reason for this sudden feeling? Dependency? Loneliness? Or was there a stronger and deeper emotion at play? Astrum forbid she admit it to herself, instead of dwelling on a subject of little importance (at least at the moment) Tamor temporarily parted ways with the Knights with a simple nod, hoping that was enough. Upon seeing the guards Tamor hesitated but in the end warily leaned into the ear of the nearest guard and disclosed information she hadn't told the rest of the Knights, well, not fully, due to the circumstances that were too dear to her heart to reveal. There was a brief flash of shock that rippled across the man's face, not that Tamor unfairly blamed him, but without wasting another moment she went on her way.

If one wanted transportation other than foot then it was to the stables, Tamor actually recalled meeting the husband and wife who owned the horses that she suspected Auden was off to obtain. Her father, or rather her faux elven father Kanien Astry had taught her the necessities to mounting and riding a horse on these very pastures. Heat lapped at her skin almost as if it intended to char it that day. Kanien, despite his military upbringing and position, was patient in ways her mother had never bothered to learn. It was his name she cautiously spoke to the guard, it was known that she was the daughter to the man known as the greatest admiral, after His Grace, in Raelus. His death had happened in an explosive weapon testing gone array, it dealt quite the blow to a young Tamor, but now she couldn't even remember his face. A name such as his would surely be written down by all the scribes in the land a thousand times over, his lavish achievements stretched that wide on a simple piece of parchment paper. That and being childhood friends (and well into adulthood) with the current king had its perks, even after death.

"You, you left me," Tamor spoke gently, as Auden had his back turned toward her and to not spook him or the horses. Niolas plucked at loose feathers on her shoulder to make room for those that were growing in underneath the ones that were currently showing.

"Well, I didn't need you." He replied without turning around, continuing to ready his horse and saddle.

Tamor mouth became agape, and color flourished in her cheeks, as she became ashamed that she had followed. "Where are you going?" Tamor inquired voice full of hurt, but eager to get the answer.

Turning he smiled at her before taking a step towards her and caressing her cheek, "To do some cleaning."
"You don't clean," Tamor stated bluntly, his touch no longer affected her in the same manner as before even though she knew what those hands were capable of doing. With her eyes fixed on his Tamor attempted to restate her statement in another form, "What are you really cleaning?"

Leaning in he whispered into her ear, "People." Slowly he pulled away from her, gently caressing her before turning back to his horse, with a smile on his face.

Fear crept into her facial expression and settled in her golden eyes, "P-P-People? Why, why would you do that?" A clumsy step back led to her to slip and fall, as Tamor fell Niolas flew to the top of the nearest wooden stall and perched. He remained a close enough distance to keep a close look on the duo that stood beneath him.

Hearing the sound of slipping Auden released a burst of air in Tamor's direction, cushioning her fall. "To keep my country free of scum." He stated as he tightened a strap of the saddle. "They are hardly people."

"But they are people still, why is it your duty to do so?" Graciousness for his sudden usage of magic was only apparent in her sigh of relief. She felt an urge to question Auden in his entirety as a person, prodding a mother bear with a dull knife is what Tamor imagined what this process was similar to in appearance.

"Would you prefer if you were the only person? Or would you rather if I just played with innocent people?" He replied, finishing securing the saddle. "My job is to clean up the countries scum."

"Why are there any people? Why are you like this? Who did this to you?" The barrage of questions leaked from Tamor's mouth before she could stop, and she wished she had. Her fate was sealed whether that was in Astrum or Infernum, she continued on, "You mean, your job was to kill those who were criminals and even then under orders, you are a Knight not a vigilante, or have you forgot such things?"

Within mere moments Auden was on Tamor, picking her up by her neck he looked into her eyes as the skin around her neck began to burn under his magic. A smile came across his face as his free hand pointed towards Tamor's bird. "How badly do you want to know?" He asked her as his grip tightened.

Struggle, as per usual, was utterly useless, it was as if Auden had the strength of a thousand men and Tamor could not compete. Yet her airway was open enough for her to spew words out, "Tell me, or do you lack what an eunuch does as well?"

Crushing her windpipe more, he slowly dropped her body to his level, still looking in her eyes. "That was awfully brave," He said with a caring tone in his voice. Bringing her in closer he looked into her eyes as they began tearing up. Slowly he moved his face in to hers, keeping their eyes locked the entire time before his lips softly met hers, and after a few moments he released her, allowing her body to fall the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Nothing in her seven-and-twenty years of living had prepared Tamor for that moment. Her confused mind slipped into a frenzy, what had he just done and why had he done it? Was it to humiliate her and remind her how powerless she was against his might? Given the chance to fight it Tamor knew in the end that she would have, or would she have? Thoughts blurred together as if they were one but its jumbled outcome relayed little information to Tamor regarding her true feelings of the matter. The remaining questions had died on her lips as they parted to let his in. Speechless, Tamor lingered there on the ground unable to bring strength back into her arms, however Niolas was the exact opposite. Talons dangerously poised, wingspan fully elongated, and silent like a true predator before it ravaged its prey. Niolas dove down from the rafters to meet Auden's face as his talons aligned perfectly with the victim, Auden.

A calm smile remained on Auden's face as he watched Niolas dive at him, taunting the bird. With speed Auden's right hand shot up, catching Niolas legs with surprising ease. "That wasn't smart now was it?" He asked as he took complete control of Niolas body, throwing the bird to the ground. A puff of feathers and slight thud accompanied its fall from the sky. A flick of his fingers caused a caw to escape Niolas as a blast of wind slammed against the bird's body. "Are you done bird?"

Hands planted firmly in front of her aided Tamor in the prolonged process of getting up as she was visibly shaken from the earlier incident. "I'm not," She answered staggering to her feet, despite it being intended for her hurt avian companion. Tamor launched herself at Auden, hands curled into fists upon impact. In appearance the swings looked more mighty than they felt, and upon delivery they lacked the force needed to do any real damage. Tears flooded her eyes and cascaded down her rosy cheeks, her ongoing punches got weaker and slower with every blow. Eventually they ceased altogether, yet her fists laid against his chest and the only sound she made was the occasional sniffle.

Interesting... Auden thought to himself as Tamor weakly pounded at his chest, barely even phasing him at all, in reality nothing more than an annoyance. Stopping she leant against his chest, continuing to sniffle. He wrapped his arms around her body before pulling her in a bit. "So are you done yet?" He asked pushing her back slightly and looking at her tear ridden face.

The embrace had been unexpected but welcomed, his body heat was felt, yet Tamor could only think of her injured friend. Out of blurry vision Tamor spotted Niolas and left Auden's immediate presence for a brief moment as she knelt beside her feathered friend. Tamor prayed to each of the Gods before she placed each of her hands onto Niolas. Her magic restored his consciousness, and she gathered his large body in her arms before returning to Auden. "We better get going, shouldn't we?" Tamor made sure she emphasized the word "we" each time she spoke it.

Without saying a word in reply he took the reigns of the horse that he had been preparing and lead it to the exit of the stable. Tamor wondered if this was his way of politely telling her she wasn't coming with, had she endured all that for naught? Surely he would turn around to face her, Tamor was hoping for it, she couldn't return to the Knights otherwise. Auden continued towards the exit, checking the saddle and reigns as he walked. Happy that they were secure the exited the stable, mounting the horse. "Hurry up," he said without looking back. A look full of gratitude would've greeted Auden had he looked at Tamor. With Niolas healthy enough to take flight Tamor let go of him by throwing him into the air, his wings opened and took him high into the open sky. Tamor took Auden's outreached hand with a smile plastered on her face as she mounted the horse, arms wrapped lightly around his waist.

The next couple of days were full of pleasure for Auden, as he quickly hunted down six wanted men as he made his way to Eldur, with Tamor in tow. During some of his torture sessions he forced and tricked Tamor to help out, healing his victims as they neared death just so he could inflict more pain on them. Their screams of pain brought him great pleasure as he slowly took their lives away. By the time they had made it to Eldur he had killed the eight criminals that he had committed to memory, each scum tainting his homeland. Forgiveness from the Gods was beseeched by Tamor, as she thought surely after she healed the first Auden would leave him well enough alone, that innocent thought had been instantly poisoned. These were the acts of the befallen, individuals that had strayed from holiness such as Lilyth and Dabel, leaving Tamor to think that she perhaps did belong in Infernum. A sickness boiled up inside her stomach until it eventually gave way multiple times, retching on sight of the mutilated bodies. The Gods were quiet as ever, Tamor vowed to never again aid in the torture of another human body, within reason. Night terrors of the marred corpses would surely be in her dreams instead of Tella and the heavens of Astrum. After those days had passed Tamor's mind still wandered back to that moment in the stables, she relived it vividly and examined the situation with copious amount of detail, yet still couldn't distinguish the meaning behind it all.

It had been four days since Auden and Tamor had left the other knights, and four days of pleasure for Auden, through the torture of the criminals and the psychological torture he had been inflicting on Tamor over the course of their trip. The duo had dispatched of their horse to a guard who swore an oath to return it to its rightful owner. If almost by pure luck of the Nine Auden and Tamor saw the rest of the Knights of Ekilore paused ahead of them. The annoyance in a guard's voice was heard, and the phrase she had heard too often growing up, "May the flames of Eldur guide you," greeted them. With a nod she and Auden were welcomed back into the group without any questions asked, Tamor couldn't bare admitting her sins to anyone but the Gods.

"Home, sweet home, I suppose. Right, Tamor? Auden?" Percival asked, it wasn't much of an answerable question, at least not one that could be met in all honesty. "Let's head to the castle first."

"Sweet..." Tamor had an ample amount of words she had wished to substitute for that of which Percival had chosen. Trying to sound more tolerable of their destination Tamor exclaimed, "Joy, the castle!"
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