Vescrutia: Legacy

Zeik found an odd solace in the moment he shared with Lunedge. If tears were still a luxury his skeletal frame could muster, his eyes would have been swollen from the weight of his grief. Since that fateful encounter with Nagase and Antares, he had spoken to no one—not even Kurai, his wife, who had witnessed the clash from start to finish.

Their once-lively castle was eerily still now, its grandeur muted by the pain they carried. Both their children were gone, and the circumstances of their absence gnawed at them. Azazel had vanished without a trace, eluding even the combined mastery of the arcane wielded by his mother and father. Neither could pierce the veil of his disappearance. And then there was Nagase. Her ambitions had shattered their family like fragile glass, leaving them to pick up the jagged pieces. She, too, had fled, along with Azazel’s birth mother, Meridia. Anger had driven her away—Meridia unable to face Zeik or Kurai, haunted by the possibility that their child might have been responsible for the death of hers.

Now, the castle echoed with emptiness, a testament to lives fractured. And in this void, Zeik clung to Lunedge as his sole reprieve.

He stirred, drawing himself from the depths of his torment. His skeletal jaw moved, words poised to inform Lunedge of the knowledge he had gathered during his last encounter with the Horseman. But before his voice could break the silence, an alarm blared, cutting through the stillness. Moments later, the shrill whine of approaching artillery filled the air.

Though still weak, Zeik knew he had no choice but to respond. Lunedge had brought him here for this exact purpose—to fight, to aid. He unwrapped the bandages from his right hand, revealing fingers and a wrist that had healed unnaturally fast. Yet, the gruesome state of his other wounds underscored how far he had yet to go.

With a sharp focus, he prepared to unleash his Ava, intending to obliterate the turrets and silence the barrage. But before he could summon his power, reality itself seemed to fracture. Tiny cracks opened in the fabric of space and time, swallowing the artillery shells mid-flight. An instant later, the stolen payload rained back down upon the very turrets that had fired them, reducing them to rubble.

Zeik’s bandaged face could not reveal his surprise, but his voice betrayed it.

“My Archers…” he murmured, recognizing the handiwork immediately. It was Kurai. Even in their estrangement, she had chosen to intervene, to protect him in this moment of need.

He rewrapped his hand, grateful for the reprieve her intervention had granted. His voice, though still hoarse, carried a note of quiet determination.

“… We’ve got an eye in the sky.” He paused, addressing Lunedge more audibly now, his tone steadier than it had been in weeks. “Charge forward. That artillery can’t touch us with Kurai watching over us.”

As he spoke, a flicker of strength returned to him, though the scars of his disfigurement and his fractured family remained a heavy weight. For now, survival demanded focus, and Zeik steeled himself for the battles yet to come.

"Aw, nuts!" he screamed, reflexively crouching deep into the mantagolem's back. It slowed down for a split moment curbing two shells that landed right in front of him. The sky filled with fiery artillery before him. His footspeed could see him through the fire easily, but with his friend by his side, Zero thought them more susceptible to this classic onslaught. He regained control as portals appeared to absorb the turret fire as quickly as they approached.

Zeik wrote: Tue Dec 17, 2024 3:32 pm
“… We’ve got an eye in the sky.” He paused, addressing Lunedge more audibly now, his tone steadier than it had been in weeks. “Charge forward. That artillery can’t touch us with Kurai watching over us.”

As he spoke, a flicker of strength returned to him, though the scars of his disfigurement and his fractured family remained a heavy weight. For now, survival demanded focus, and Zeik steeled himself for the battles yet to come.

"Oh yeah?" Zero said, creating a jugalan mudra with his hands while the wings of the mantagolem fluttered with a renewed vigor. Zero leaned forward and it dashed directly into the field of artillery, firing shots into portals and making more noise than trouble now with a psychic looking out for them. It even brought back a sense of confidence in Zeik, just what the mission needed with active opposition facing them.

Though he wanted to race directly to the coast, where the only safe passage to the realm of Iden is said to reside, his common sense told him that the beast might not survive the necessary surge of electricity. Their new blistering pace whizzed past the black towers and carved a trail like an ice skate on the icy desert floor. Zero couldn't yet see the end of the turret field, but he was determined to find it or hit the water's edge trying, this unarmed force would have a very rough time truly impeding them.

The field of autonomous turrets stretched all the way to to Strait of Skeith, stopping short of a frigid, white sand beach near the water's edge. The beach was quiet, uninhabited and untouched for untold time before the installation of autonomous fire to the area. The turrets' placement left the beach with a semicircle of natural coast with a small isthmus stretching towards an island further off into the frozen, southern sea.

The artillery fire persisted at the same rate over the course of Zero and Zeik's mad dash to the coast. The pair were protected by a slew of portals that sent the turret fire anywhere but towards their target, though their automated systems kept them firing until they crossed the boundary closer to the Strait of Skeith. Like the swing of a pendulum, ther turrets sustained fire until the pair cleared the field and then disappeared beneath the snow again, only marked by wisps of steam emanating from their heated, receded heads. Their targets exited the range of the artillery but had not escaped the grip of danger in any way, things just grew quiet for the moment.

The second wave of defense engaged when the intrepid pair crossed the boundary leading up to the beach. It had been charging up since the turrets emerged from the Desert of Aeon's permafrost. The second wave system was nestled just beneath the surface, just shy of the water's choppy, lapping edge. A glowing sigil of crimson could be seen pulsing close to the water's edge, sharing a strange glossiness with the landscape and scenery before them. Though the sky was open and bright, beaming and balmy, when the sigil pulsed, a faint wave of white rushed up the air between them and the Strait of Aeon. The ground in front of the sigil began to steam, producing a steady flow as another compartment charged up beneath the surface. Two more spaces far to either edge of the crimson sigil also began to steam, but the beach remained quiet, patiently preparing the next wave of defense.

Bursting through the opposition, Zero was able to pull up on the Mantagolem and stop on a magnetic dime. Kurai kept the artillery at bay and the machines receded into the ground once the dynamic duo crossed the final line of ranged defense. He thought the turrets would try to gun them down until they crossed the strait itself, but their swivel stopped just shy of a coastline misfire. Squarely out of danger for now, scanning the scene for their next challenge, all that stood before them was a glowing symbol and a strange, familiar feeling Zero couldn't place.

"Zeik, what do your eyes see?"

The mage had a different kind of sight that Zero envied from time to time, his acuity for the Unseen a marvel of modern ability. Only through tools, items, or enchantments was Zero able to see even a fraction of the energies pervading the land, but his tribe's Anthem gave him a sense for currents around them that he could tap into. He felt a familiar current, one he only felt when chasing down Reliqs du Ven, and it unnerved him.

The steady hum of the manta golem resonated through the frosted air as it glided over the frozen sands, its shimmering, semi-translucent wings barely brushing the surface. Zeik clung tightly to its back, the ride anything but comfortable. Each jarring movement sent fresh waves of pain through his battered frame, but he endured it silently. The damage from Crown's Hall was still fresh, his body held together by willpower and the Urigi Bandages that wrapped his wounds like a second skin.

Ahead of him, Zk crouched low, his fingers dancing over the intricate 'controls,' of the creatures harness. He meticulous juiced every last ounce of speed from the manta golem, Zeik's jaw tightened as he watched his friend push the creature too its limits.

"You're going to kill it at this rate," Zeik growled, his voice hoarse but steady.

Zk spared him a glance, his wild grin tinged with the malice of a man who thrived on chaos. "If we don’t move fast, *we’ll* be the ones dead. Diplomacy wasn’t an option here, remember?"

Zeik didn’t argue. He knew Zk was right. This was Vescrutia—a brutal, unrelenting world where survival often depended on strength and cunning over reason. He’d never ventured to Vescrutia’s moons or the orbital siblings that dotted the sky like silent watchers, but he doubted life was much kinder there. Strength ruled. The weak endured. That was the way of things.

The manta golem dipped suddenly, Zk executing a sharp, evasive maneuver as another turret opened fire from the jagged cliffs ahead. Energy bolts sizzled past them, scorching the air and scattering shards of glass-like sand. Zeik tightened his grip, his fingers brushing the cold material of the manta golems saddle.

"Fair enough," Zeik muttered, his tone grim. "But I won’t harm this creature to facilitate my escape."

Zk didn’t respond, his focus locked on the terrain ahead. The artillery barrage that had dogged their journey for hours suddenly ceased, the automated machines retreating into silence. It was a quiet that pressed heavy against their senses, more ominous than the thunder of explosions.

Under the blaring sun, the frozen sands gleamed like polished steel, and Zeik squinted against the glare. He peeled back the Urigi Bandages from his eyes, each movement deliberate despite the sharp pain that shot through his hands. His voice was low but urgent.

Zero Venkage wrote: Mon Dec 23, 2024 10:24 am "Zeik, what do your eyes see?"

" Zk asked, slowing the manta golem to a cautious glide.

Zeik didn’t answer immediately, his fingers weaving intricate patterns through the air. The Ava flowed through him, its energy raw and demanding, stripping flesh from his fingertips as it coalesced into his sight.

"Origin Vision," he murmured, his whole body shuddering under the strain. The world around him shifted, its layers peeling back like the pages of an ancient tome. Colors bled into one another, forming patterns that pulsed with an otherworldly glow.

"Sigils," Zeik said at last, his voice strained. "Unknown origin...but characteristic of destruction wards."

He blinked, the light of his vision fizzling out like a dying star. His chest heaved, every breath labored as he fought to steady himself.

"There’s a barrier ahead," he continued. "I couldn’t gauge the range, but assume it’s near-instantly lethal."

Zk cursed under his breath, his hands tightening on the manta’s controls.

"They confident what ever is ahead of us, will spell certain death," Zeik muttered, his lips curling into a faint smile despite his exhaustion. "But they haven’t met us yet."

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have mounted it if I wanted to kill it.” Zero pulled back on the reins of the Mantagolem and slid to a stop well before approaching the glowing sigils and matching holes before them on the ground. The magnetic hum of the creature’s magnetic field died down and all they could hear was the howl of the frosty wind across the frozen desert, the lapping of the waves against the force field between them and the Strait of Skeith, and the muffled warmth keeping the pair from becoming the newest fixtures on this frigid landscape.

Zeik wrote: Sun Dec 29, 2024 9:07 pm
"There’s a barrier ahead," he continued. "I couldn’t gauge the range, but assume it’s near-instantly lethal."

Zk cursed under his breath, his hands tightening on the manta’s controls.

"They confident what ever is ahead of us, will spell certain death," Zeik muttered, his lips curling into a faint smile despite his exhaustion. "But they haven’t met us yet."

Without venturing too far, Zero dismounted the the Mantagolem and invited Zeik as well, sticking close to his umbrella of mystic warmth. All this opposition confirmed they were on the right path, but Zero had to take a moment to reevaluate their trajectory.

From his pocket he revealed a small notebook scribbled with all manner of writing on the front and back. In a single flip of his fingers he found a page with the info the Acolytes gave him to track down the Vestige said to be before them. The journey across the Desert of Aeon went mostly without a hitch, but the artillery was an unexpected challenge. The Strait of Skeith they said held the entrance to the End of the World, Iden, lay beneath the rustling waves beyond the highly likely deadly barrier at the water’s edge also unaccounted for in the Acolytes’ brief. Zero scratched his head for a moment, flipping from his page back a few more until he gasped and took a good lick at the sigil pulsing before them.

“Ah, crud,” he said returning the notebook to his pocket. “So I might have actually met these guys before.”

The glowing sigil took Zero to a time before The Fall in his memory banks, when he ruled the underworld and made the most of his bad reputation. What started as an adventure to find stolen artifacts of his tribe led Zero to head an international organization that dealt exclusively in taboos of all types to further the goals of its membership. His hunt for Reliqs du Ven, artifacts and tools crafted by his tribe from their blood, sweat, and tears brought him to the apex of Leviathan Order, controlling the flow of sacred contraband all across the Big Blue.

At the time, Zero relished the opportunity to leverage the resources for his own goals, Leviathan Order afforded him the kind of connections that could topple a kingdom and all he wanted was to build a collection. Yet, his personal goals, modest in comparison to the personnel in his charge after he assumed control, eventually outgrew the scope of Leviathan Order, mission. Zero at the time had one goal on mind and he poured every resource into it, hunting doggedly to recover pieces of his people’s heritage, and running a “successful” underground organization took a backseat to that, something the rest of Leviathan Order took major offense to.

Zero groaned, reliving the drama, the suspense, the embarrassment of his history with Leviathan Order from their first encounter somewhere in the Mek Mountains of Edo where he faced off with the Dragonhead before him, Ulysses Arceneaux in a troublesome bout that leveled one of the massive mountains in the range and completely destroyed the Reliq they clashed over. The drama? Finding the place after navigating miles of mines to get to the inner chambers of the harrowing mountains. The suspense? He expected the item to lie by itself in a shrine, locked away by the Forgsten Tribe according to his research. The embarrassment? Ulysses Arceneaux, a centuries old man seemingly held together by strange machinery and ambition standing between Zero and a piece of his people’s history. His age preceded him with a long, white beard reaching the floor, dangling between the massive feet of the two yard tall exosuit sporting a weary warriors visage and full humanoid articulation of its appendages.

Ulysses was also a talker , and he ran on and on about the power held within the Reliqs and how they’d bring his family into a new generation of prosperity and nothing would stand in the way of his goal. By the end of their bout, Zero silenced him with the tool he dove into the mines to find. The irony of it all was lost on Zero at the time, the Reliq disappeared as they are likely to do when they reach their output capacity, and Ulysses fell to the very tool he sought to acquire. He only revisited the moment now, staring at a glowing sigil matching the marking adorning his opponents intricately designed eyepatch.

Once again, his adventures crossed paths with the Arceneaux Corporation and Leviathan Order, organizations he thought he left in the past with his infamous reputation.

“It looks like the Arceneaux Corporation is interested in something here too… Historical precedent may put them here for the same reason we are, I couldn’t imagine the Acolytes sending me, er, us into a fight without some kind of warning.” Zero was stumped by the barrier here. The Acolytes mentioned no barrier, no Arceneaux, no turrets, just Iden and the wonders held within. If the Arceneaux Corporation already claimed land here, the zynamic zuo could be in for a bit more than they bargained for. Two taps and a snap in front of its face sent the Mantagolem off back across the Desert of Aeon, their hardy bodies more fit for their own traveling pace. What might come would be no place for gentle wildlife.

He paced back and forth, dragging his boot across the icy terrain to etch a faint line in the frozen sand. He stopped just behind the line, his sharp eyes, still hidden behind his bandages, were trained on the faint shimmer of the barrier ahead. The bandages that consumed his frame, glowed faintly with arcane energy. Hiding the marks of his recent and intense battle. They clung tightly to his athletic frame, which just moments ago clung to a skeleton. The sheer capability of their enchanted properties remained a secret even as they pulsated softly with a restorative light.

As he prepared to confront the invisible barrier, the bandages began to loosen. One by one, they unraveled and fell away, dissipating into motes of light that vanished as they touched the ground. Beneath them, Zeik’s body was revealed to be mostly healed, the scars faint and pulsed with an almost ceremonial light against his skin.
Standing firm, he exuded a quiet confidence and determination. His silver-grey hair, tied back in a high ponytail, cascading like a stormy waterfall, framing his sharp features.

His sleeveless black tunic exposed his toned arms, his posture speaking of both strength and precision. Around his waist, a bright red sash contrasted starkly with the dark tones of his outfit, while Intricate metallic accents on his belt and pants resembled armored plates, blending functionality with style. His tapered pants rested above his ankles , framing his red shoes, adding a modern touch to his battle-hardened aesthetic. Draped over his shoulders was a flowing black cape with jagged, organic edges, resembling a plume of feathers with bone accents at the bottom of the cape. The cape swayed slightly, as though alive with latent energy, adding an aura of mystique and danger. His silver eyes gleamed with an analytical sharpness as he studied the barrier. There was no hesitation in his stance—only the calm assurance of someone ready to face whatever challenge lay ahead.

He began weaving his Ava, his fingers moving with an almost hypnotic precision. Sigils burst forth from the frosted ground, glowing with an otherworldly light. The frozen sand cracked and hissed as silicone-like fluid dripped onto the ice, coalescing into intricate shapes.

The sigils surged forward, slamming into what seemed to be empty space, and the faint shimmer of the invisible barrier became visible. His eyes narrowed as the sigils explored the barrier, flowing like liquid light across its surface. They collided with foreign sigils erupting in retaliation, and a violent clash ensued. In seconds, Zeik’s sigils were overwhelmed, blasted backward with a force that sent them streaking past him like meteorites.

The barrier responded with an ominous shift, expanding until it hovered just over the line he’d drawn in the sand. Its shimmering presence loomed like an impenetrable wall, humming with latent power. “Hmmm,” Zeik muttered, brushing a strand of silver hair from his face. “Based on this response, I’d say this has Nulgurian origins…meaning another mishap could be fatal.” Lowering himself to the ground, he crossed his legs beneath him. The layers of his cloak shifted to reveal his lean, scarred frame, now nearly healed from the bandages’ work. His body radiated control and intensity—a man prepared for combat yet grounded by discipline.

“This will take me some time to do correctly,” he murmured, his voice calm yet focused. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his knee before he glanced over his shoulder with a wry smile. “They clearly wanted this kept secret and this level of Arbiter wasn't created by an amateur.”

Without waiting for an answer, Zeik returned to his work. Stretching his fingers, he resumed weaving Ava, the air around him shimmering as he cultivated his naten with practiced precision. His silver eyes flickered with the unmistakable glow of Origin Vision, perceiving the threads of magic in their rawest form. The world became a tapestry of light and shadow, every movement of his Ava revealing the barrier’s intricate design.
“Naten and the respective Ava used to cultivate it' leaves a sort of fingerprint behind, if you know where an Arbiter was Cast you can unearth all manner of information from the surroundings;including the arbiters origins, its caster or even its Casters associates. Giving life to the idiom “if these walls could talk.”

This time, his sigils multiplied, swirling into a formation more complex than before. Zeik bit the inside of his cheek, letting a small bead of blood drip onto the forming pentagram etched in the frozen sand. The blood sparked as it touched the sigils, binding them together and intensifying their glow. He slowly exhaled a deep breath, the frosty air turning to mist as he muttered under his breath "This is why there is no door I can't open and in part…why no secret can remain as such in this world. Which...id wager, is why youve brought me along.” His eyes radianted with determination and a subtle, but noticeable tension. “In terms of of sorcery It takes a little bit of know-how and a whole lot of effort.” He said as his sigils showed signs of victory.

Zeik's mastery of sorcerous arts cast numerous his blood sigils cascaded across the barrier between them and the Strait of Skeith. The invisible barrier flickered as its integrity started to waver, infiltrated by the invasive nature of the Vesta's craft. The Nulgurian spellcraft fell prey to the Hellgate's ancient works, revealing three more of the glowing sigils from the frozen mounds in front of the barrier came to life, shooting three crimson rays skyward, dyeing the frigid, white sky an eerie shade of pink. The ground trembled, and a mechanical whirr could be heard similar to the activation of the turrets behind them.

The ground crackled sending frosted sand whisking past Zero and Zeik while the mantagolem scurried away quietly across the desert, leaving the turrets undisturbed. The crimson sigils flickered and snapped, cracking the barrier like holes punctured in glass, leaving the barrier frosted for a moment before it also shattered and its mystic shards shot into the air as well. The shimmering shrapnel followed the crimson rays spewing from the ground and all were sucked straight up into the clouds, leaving barren, burnt, scorched glass in their wake. The sky cleared, the pink tint returned to its normal cyan haze, and the Strait of Skeith's choppy waves began to break as a sandbar started to rise from the frozen waters.

Zero let Zeik walk him through the banishment of the barrier and its accompanying grounded beacons. As they disappeared and the sky turned that eerie shade of pink and back, Zero mused pleasantly, purposefully ignoring the whirring he assumed was the turrets reactivating.

"You're damn right that's why I brought you along. The barrier, I didn't expect, but there's something more... esoteric on the other side."

Zero would have given Zeik a pat on the back, but the unraveling bandages clearly restoring his former glory seemed much more sensitive to input that he wished to disturb. Throughout the whole process, Zeik had been quiet for most of it, speaking when necessary and emerging as a shadow of his former self. Still, a shadow of the Zeik from The Fall stood tall in the face of this type of adversity.

Zero turned back for a moment, making sure the mechanical whirring he heard wasn't another set of turrets prepped to gun them down and he was relieved to see the turret field just as sleepy as the moment before. The eerie, pink hue of the sky was the only thing that gave him pause. The three sigils buried beneath the sand gave him an uneasy feeling, almost like they were being watched. His history with the Arceneaux Corporation left little room for interpretation, they already set their sights on Iden and the secrets it held within. With their barrier dissolved and and the strait revealed, he and Zeik could make for the auspicious land of abundance and peace with laser focus.

"I think they're going to notice you burned through their barrier, so let's get moving," Zero said stepping into a light footed spin using Judeian Choreo, wrapping himself and Zeik in a current of wind that made their steps light as a feather and as quick as gales. He made sure to follow the wrap of Zeik's bandages, hoping to keep their apparent restorative properties intact while they crossed the strait into unknown territory. He kept Zeik directly behind him as they made a speedy dash off into the isolated island. If he were alone, Zero would have bene there in half a second, a sprint he much rather would have made to escape any other treachery the Arceneaux Corporation had in store for them, but he'd learned the value of keeping a pace others could follow when there were untold troubles afoot.

The notes the Acolytes offered him marked the island as the home of the Traversing Mirror, deep in the heart of Iden. The island marked as the End of the World was said to hold magical wealth of flora and fauna unheard of in the world abroad. Though they quoted only a special grove housing the Traversing Mirror itself, its location at the mouth of a river surrounded by a wreath of gold. Of course, he expected it to be a metaphor, but finding a river on a frozen island is a level of metaphor he couldn't wait to discover.