Vescrutia: Legacy

In the mystical realm of Vescrutia, where the lines between mortals and the ethereal blur, three beings of incredible power become entwined in a fate that will shape the world. Sophia, a fae born of the embodiment of night, has always viewed mortals as inferior creatures. However, her perception changes drastically when she meets Hyomyn, a venkage orphan taken in by the village of Moonfang, possessing divine eyes that show her the potential within humanity. Their love blossoms, resulting in the birth of their son Icarion, known as the Child of Twilight, a being filled with untold potential drawn from the bloodlines of the ancient fae.

For a time, their family thrives in harmony. But lurking in the shadows was Allen, a mysterious Myotis elv found taken in by the village. A curse simmering in his heart. Once friend and family to them both, he became obsessed with the love Hyomyn showers upon Sophia and Icarion; Allen's resentment festers, increasing the power of his curse that manifests when the scarlet moon rises, revealing the Primordial Red energy that embodies his essence. In a moment of dark ambition, Allen attempts to kill Sophia but cannot defeat her in combat. Consumed by jealousy, he banishes her to the Nether, donning her guise in his desperate attempt to experience the affection he longs for. What begins as a successful impersonation soon crumbles; Allen cannot replicate Sophia’s genuine love. Icarion senses the shift and rejects him, a tragic realization that drives Allen into a violent frenzy, resulting in Icarion's death.

Hyomyn, returning home to witness the aftermath of Allen's wrath, descends into a chasm of despair and fury. In his grief, the cosmic being known as The Red Eye transforms him into Grixas, a demon of avarice, promising him dominion over the universe as recompense for his lost family. Fueled by vengeance, Grixas hunts down Inari, nearly ending his cursed existence. However, an unexpected turn occurs when Icarion's innate fae essence awakens amidst this chaos. As Grixas prepares to consume Allen's CORE, Icarion’s soul, unbound by the constraints of mortality, intervenes with a power that surprises even him. Channeling an ancient invocation, a spell named "Purity," Icarion redefines the rules of fate: He attempts to cleanse Grixas of his connection to the demonic and triggers a reincarnation cycle for all involved.

However, the Red Eye, a furious display of powerful eldritch magics, interferes. Instead of being severed from the eye, Grixas is split into three entities, with the eye dragging a piece of his spawn to the nether, scattering the other two across the planet. As the energies of the powerful beings clash, the battle leaves a profound scar on the land of Vescrutia. In a cataclysmic explosion of light and darkness, Icarion’s pureness and Allen's cursed power from a sullied Moonflow intertwine, creating a perpetual wound on Vescrutia that festers with regret and anguish. A twisted amalgam of cosmic affluence and the sinister lamentations of the dead forever ingrained with the earth warped in suffering perennial. This lesion came to be known as the Moonscar. A mire of misery that has corrupted the wildlife into horrid creations known as Desires, walking shadows that form from the angst of the tormented soul of those who once called the Black Forest...the tribe that once worshiped Allen, Sophia, and her sister Minratha as deities, now scorn and curse the very names they once lived for.

It was difficult for Inari to be here and back at the Vareth Swamp. His absolute hate for swamps, in general, was but a piece of his disdain. When he first entered her, he learned of the Demon's existence, which sent wolves to test him. He had no idea this place held such a sordid...yet intricately woven to himself. He had suspicions but could not approach the demon that hunted him as if his ignorance was a veil that prevented him from being able to travel beyond a certain point. Nor did he expect to have such a vivid connection to the tribe that made this place their home. The Alondra, the former occupant of Moonfag, the birthplace of the Moonscar, managed to survive. Some natives immediately fled an instinct that kept them from being wiped out. Among them was the chief. When Inari first encountered her, he was stricken with an inexplicable pride. An overwhelming desire to protect her confounded him. Now, armed with the knowledge of all that had come to pass, he understood that it was his blood, Allen's still burning desire to protect them, and the pride he once held in being a guardian, someone who Shepperd not slaughtered.

"In the end...I say you did your duty, Allen...had you not had my curse to fret about, you could've held on to that pide."

Inari thought as he returned to where he first encountered the alondran scouts. Now that he knew the truth, he finally possessed the means to liberate this place from the oppressor's grip. Though he was still unaware of the Demon's true name, he was more than sure it was a Red Eye servant. It must've become known that the residents of Grannis, the name of the village the surviving Alondra created, were tied to Inari. It has been tormenting them. Their tree, E'vanoris, apparently keeps the demon from entering the town and instead picks them off whenever they venture beyond its borders.

"I...did not possess the strength...nor knowledge needed to understand the stakes before me, nor how to help them at the time."

When he first was here, he tried to venture deeper into the swamp where he could feel the greatest demonic influence. However, a barrier forged from heinous arcane forces prevented him from traveling beyond a certain point. And though he was reluctant to admit it, it filled him with a dread that nearly brought him to his knees. Filled with a fear unlike anything he'd ever known. So he left them, choosing to return to the acrix instead. Knowing that while he hunted the whispers of his people, the myotis, more of the Alondra would perish. To return now, he can't imagine he would welcomed with open arms. Yet he would shoulder their scorn, adding it to the ever-growing list of those he wronged and sought to rebuild with. They are the only people alive, aside from himself, that of Allen's folly, and could plug in the gaps of a few things he needed to know before returning to the barrier around the Moonscar. To think, however, that his journey thus far would see him return to the place he first awoke. The Maaluki Woods, a place steeped in mystery and mystic intrigue.

"The most prominent one being...what happened to Minratha? The realm showed nothing of what became of her while she slept...and the Moonflow corrupted."

He traveled the skies approaching where he knew Grannis to be. Within his hand bloomed a plume of red energy. He molded it to fashion a portal which he used to appear dead in the center of the village. But what he witnessed...was akin to the blade being plunged into his heart. The town had been overrun with demons. The bodies of the Alondra littered the earth, their blood splatted, painting a mural of carnage. The black wolves responsible were much more massive than the ones he first encountered.

"Desires?! But how? The tree..it should've protected them!"

His eyes raced, grasping at the many possibilities, but there was no time. He needed to go to the village center and see if there were any survivors. The wolves, noticing his presence, attacked without hesitation. Their massive forms tore through the earth as they accounted for him. These monstrosities surrounded the Crimson Crown, seeking to drive their claws and fangs into him. He began to unleash his mana to summon Amrit but found himself incapable of calling upon his familiar.

"Something is...intercepting my connection to my mana."

With no time to wonder, he released a spherical display of naten that created a barrier of mystic force that pushed them back. He wouldn't waste time facing them right now and used that reprieve to dart off in a blur of speed towards the center of Grannis, that they had gotten here to begin with, which could only mean that the power of the tree wained, and its influence stifled. Whatever this presence was, it was powerful enough to disrupt his connection to his core. This would prove to be more of a challenge than he expected, but he couldn't fret over it. He prayed he was not too late and that Alondra survived.

Grannis, once vibrant and alive with the laughter and warmth of the Alondra, now lay shrouded in horror. The bodies of his former kin littered the ground, a grim tapestry of crimson staining the earth. It was a massacre, a scene where hope had been suffocated beneath the claws of nightmares. The massive black wolves prowled among the remains, their eyes gleaming with the savage satisfaction of their conquest.

As he reached the village center, he found it eerily quiet, the echoes of chaos a distant memory. He scanned the area desperately, searching for any sign of life. The remnants of the Elder Tree loomed overhead, its once-lush branches now withered and blackened as if it had succumbed to a blight. His heart sank deeper; the core of their magic, their protection, had failed.

Suddenly, a faint cry pierced the stillness—a sound both fragile and fierce. His heart leaped as he turned, racing towards the source. There, huddled behind the remains of what had once been a vibrant marketplace, he saw them: a small group of Alondra, battered and bloodied but alive. Among them, he saw the Elder. She had been holding a barrier of her own. A gloriously shining boundary drawn from the remnants of the E'vanoris's fleeting gleam

"It's...you?"

Her voice broke through their despair. They looked up at him, eyes wide with fear and confusion. But before he could move closer, the wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with malevolence, eager to claim what was left of the village. The barrier she had summoned flickered, and he realized he had to fight to protect what remained of the people. He noticed that the girl he met, the elder's daughter, was not among them. Had she been killed with the others?

Summoning his will, he focused on the arbitor. He could still grasp the power of his blood, which remained his command. Without a second thought, he slashed his arm, his crimson gushing from the laceration raising his arms; the blood ran down like a sanguine river before he flung them downward, unleashing a litany of ribbons of blood that lashed out, creating an onslaught of razor-sharp lashes that hacked away at the hoard closest to the barrier. Their numbers were great, but they were still flesh to be cut into. This battle was not merely for survival; it was a fight to restore balance, to rekindle the light that had been dimmed. With renewed determination, he charged forward, ready to confront the nightmares that had dared to invade their home.

The cries of the fallen filled the silence, causing the other to frenzy. He held point before the barrier, cleaving through any foolish enough to try him. Their efforts were relentless, and no matter how many he cut down, there were even more ready for more. It was then that his eyes began to gleam brightly.

"You will not retreat; the will of your master proves too great for you to reject. Fine then, if it is a battle of beasts you desire, I shall grant it to you."

He began to string together a set of ava that, upon completion, would see his blood becoming a mist that started to glow bright with a profound crimson aura. His heart rate skyrocketed, suffusing his blood with naten and increasing his strength, dexterity, and speed by fathoms. The mist began to stain his flesh, becoming like a skin-tight armor. His hair raged like wildfire...

"Art of Blood; Scarlet Berserker!"

A technique he developed during his confrontation with Drought. He can become a rampaging storm of cardinal devastation, a living whirlwind of carnage, by giving into his fury for a time. Typically, the technique would take a massive toll on his mental state, running the risk of frenzied. However, this time, its invocation was not kneaded together with malicious intent but rather the desire to protect another. This anchor kept him tethered to his sense of self while maintaining the power his aggregated blood promised. As the miasma cleared, Inari would be standing before the barrier a scalding fortress of burning defiance against the black forces. A smoldering beacon of scarlet light devouring the darkness. The villager was frightened, the waves of insanity ebbing from him, her even more bone chilling than the howls of the Desires, and yet, as terrified as they were, some looked at him in awe. That such a menacing being...was protecting them.

The light of his being overshadowed all else. The Elder looked at him. He once refused to assist them, leaving them at the mercury of the forces of Moonscar. Of all the beings she cried out to for salvation, the way she pleaded with the planet itself for a savior, he was the last she thought would answer her call. Now, here he was, putting his life on the line. Another wave of Desires accosted them, his naten roared, and like a torrential storm of garnet, he eviscerated them. One by one, his elongated claws rending through their bodies, leaving pieces of their carcasses on the ground. Their fangs and claws tore his flesh apart, cleaving globs of flesh from him, yet for every wound dealt, his dripping viscera rose to fight, countering their assault with a response of bloody retribution.

"I refuse to stand aside and let others suffer for my incompetence!"

His battle cries are nearly defended by the wails of death and screams of agony of both he and the demons alike. Yet despite the pain, he pressed on and would not stop until either his heart gave out or their numbers were erased.

"No one else shall pay the price of blood for MY failures!!!!"

His mind drifted to Aurelius's sacrifice, the sentiments he shared before giving his life to shield his crown. He could feel Aureius's emotions...they were like the gentle, firm hands of a potter molding clay. Shaping something in Inari that he felt so close to understanding but still seemed league from grasping. What did it mean? To live to protect, to...die for others? What had any of them gained? Though he could not fathom such a concept in his mind, it did not stop his body from moving to the villager's defense. It was more than just a collection of thoughts, like imprints on the blood that persisted beyond the fear of death. Emotions were not just mere concepts to understand...there were nuance cracks that could get lost. Still, most assuredly, he understood now that they were tangible, physical responses to how we interact with the world around us and those we share it with. Pretending not to possess them is not the key to strength; it is only by allowing oneself the room to experience them...feel them, but not become...lost in them.

"Power...is the ability to pull oneself back from the abyss, no matter how tempting its allure may be. I will be pulled and pushed no further."

Aurelius bestowed upon Inari a wish, a passing ambition. To see the Hellgates return to a life of connection, a future where they once shared space collectively again. A true family, Inari, as his crown, would see it brought to light. Though their numbers dwindled, their assault was a harrowing thing indeed, almost like there was nearly an endless horde. Inari could feel the strain of his arbor so hastily drawn, impacting his body. His breaths became a bit labored, but he was far from finished. The Elder, however, was experiencing the toll of holding such a spell for so long. The barrier began to flicker. In the middle of the fray, Inari had little time to respond appropriately.

"I can't...hold it."

Her eyes glimmered with wavier resolve, her magic responding to this last will shatter. One of the nightmares that made it past Inari took this time to leap toward the Elder, its claws aimed at her gullet. Inari, witnessing this, panicked. At that moment, he saw an ethereal visage manifest before him. It was a phantom of Allen accompanied by the memory of when he saved the Elder granddaughter.

( "Why...why did you save me?"

The girl asked the man, riddled with leaking wounds.

"I don't know...I...just don't want anyone else to die in front of me.)

Inari's eyes widened, the blood of his ava forcing its way through his body. In a display of speed that could only be described as godly, Inari appeared before the weary woman, taking the blow in her stead, the beast's claws piercing through his chest. With a gnarly wipe of his arms, he released a scarlet wave of eviscerating crim that removed the torso of half their legion in the blink of an eye. His blood spilled on the corroded earth, pouring from his now gaping wound. He looked over his shoulder, coughing up a spillage of blood that spilled down his neck. The other stared with face scrunched in disbelief and terror. The other wolves neared them, etching closer.

"But...why?"

The Elder weakly inquired. He...left them to die before; why risk his life? Suffer so for them now?

"I...am unsure..."

Inari's essence sept into the ground, even now, wounded as he was, thinking of the following method to guard them from the beast. The visage of Allen standing silently beside him was like a mute manifesto of his chosen path. His reason for being here, to begin with.

"When I saw that barrier break, my body just moved. I."

The Elder's mirror gleamed with resolve and bewilderment, filled with the waning embers of Inari's sacrifice. Then, the Elder Tree, E'vanoris, began to emit its own light.

"Didn't want to see anyone else die..."

The Elder Tree's light began to pulsate with the same cadence as a heartbeat. Inari's ear, sensitive to the unseen, was startled at the murmurs as they propagated. The tree's roots, like living tendrils, began to wrap around Inari, their light growing brightly the moment they came into contact with him. Then, Inari felt his conscience expand, becoming acutely aware of E’vanoris’s true identity. It was a Lunar Wood, a sacred tree that thrived on the moon's energy. Once, Allen, with the blessing of the moonflow coursing through him, gave life to these species of trees with his blood. They could absorb lunar energy with their branches, nurturing the hard soil of Moon Fang and infusing the earth with moonlight through its roots. The leaves of protection created a veil that shielded against the Desires and dark forces. This tree stood as the lone survivor, a sentinel in a world teetering on the brink. It reached out to him as a child would its parent whom it has not seen for an eternity. Inari found himself confounded. With the terrible scars Allne left upon this place, he was sure that using his plant magic would be impossible. Timid to do so, not wishing to take more from Vescrtuia than he had. Yet, this spawn of his and the planet's fervor stood resolute, welcoming as if he had never left. It's desire to protect, to stand tall, as it has always done.

"You've been here...fighting this whole time?"

Inari felt the pain of his wound; it brought him to his knees. Usually, he could heal such a thing, but with all this...interference, it was proving quite difficult for him to weave the intention he needed for certain arbiters. It wasn't just his mana. This place was stifling. It was almost as if it was trying to take from him. However, the roots seeped into his wound, and the flesh of the light-endowed tendril healed him, releasing back into him an essence that he had not known in eons.

"The... Moonflow?"

He now understood the foundation of this land. This tree...was the last vestige of the Moonflow before Allen tainted it. The Elder's explanation of it made so much sense to him. She spoke of how their home was destroyed long ago and that E'vanoris was the only thing they could salvage. And in return, it blessed them with its protection. However, not tethered to it again, Inari knew it to be more than that. This tree is a living, sentient being. The Moonflow carries the peaceful soul of the departed, allowing them to subsist in this world as guardians in the unseen realm. Spirits...E'avnrois was a vessel for such a being. Vowing to keep safe the last droplet of its Mother, Minratha. He...understood it all.

"I know...I do not deserve it, but."

The light of the Lunar Wood kept the demon at bay, if for only a tiny increment of time. Inari clenched his hands in the dirt as he lifted himself, walking towards the blighted tree, still clinging to the fight.

"Help me...protect our home."

Responding to his fervent wish to save Grannis, to once again take up his mantle as a guardian, the light of E'vanoris enveloped him, its wooden appendages becoming ropes of pure light. In that instant, Inari felt engrossed by a significant surge of naten. The realm became black, and it was just him standing before the darkness slit up like an eyelid. He recoiled, expecting the vermillion gleam of his torturer. But instead, he was encompassed by the mystical gleam of a sparkling silver eye. He could not entirely place it, but he could sense an ancient air behind this influence. Allen's phantom appeared once more; the eye seemed to become enraged. Allen held his hand toward it, and its glare wavered but yielded as if they had come to some...understanding. But before he could make heads or tails of it, it faded, and he was back before the creature, which was now doused in a flaring silver light. His hair began to lose its scarlet hue and was replaced with a vibrant, ethereal white with the constancy of bleached silk. The vermillion stain of his skin slowly disintegrated, his bare almond flesh taking its place. Yet, the roots etched onto his skin, becoming runic markings that shone with an otherworldly gleam. His fanged green eyes, the killer's glare, were replaced now with wide pupils full of but one idea.

To save Alondra, as he once did for over 400 years as not their god, not their creator....but as their Guardian Of Twilight.

E'vanoris loses its gleam, transferring the last remnants of its essence to Inari. Weidling this spectral inheritance, Inari's fist crackled with power, feeling the might of spiritual influence like never before. His connection to his mana was restored but...shifted. With how he felt at this moment, it was like he held the very nature of the moon itself in the palm of his hands.

"So this is the power of a Guardian?"

What existed inside him now flowed like a river yet smoldered like a flame. A brilliant, vibrant conflagration of purpose. He thought about how Aurelius looked right before he died, a symbol of his beliefs that will forever stay with Inari; Aurelus proved to be more than just his moon.

"He was, is, also my flame! I will honor his memory! His sacrifice.!"

Witnessing his change, the creatures crazed, resolving to ambush him simultaneously—this shimmering mantle of rebellion against their master's design. Like a surmounting cataclysm, they came at him. The villagers terrified behind Inari, would be bestowed by a drop of his light upon the Elder, prompting her to draw her barrier up a final time. This time, not to protect them from the demon but from the backlash of the power he could release.

"Mother...father... Aurelius...Hyomyn. I still don't entirely understand what emotions are. They are not my strong suit. However, I...get the gest of it."

The reason why they fought, the reason why they chose to believe instead of despair. He had always considered hope a luxury; absolute power was the only true certainty. But after witnessing what it had done not only to his past self but also to Antares, who didn't share his cursed blood, he understood that hope is not simply the wishes of the weak. He inhaled deeply, drawing all his focus and intention into his eyes as he closed them.

"Mystic art...."

It is also the strength of the strong!

The earth rattled vigorously. The Moonflow's spiritual presence magnified his aura to staggering heights, the like of which caused the very air to become like the tonnage of planets and the force of crumbling stars. Ancient knowledge of his past floods him, bringing back to his conscience his centuries of training under Minratha. His studies with Sophia as a master of Lunar Sorcery...only now recounting one of the pinnacles of naten expression an arbiter lost to him, yet was the very one he used to defend the realm from the darkness. A fearsome technique to banish all darkness before his sight

"Bako Kagami…"

The congregated lunar force coalesced in his eyes and, upon opening them, the power of his birth rune manifested producing a trace of golden prominence outlining the silver and unleashing an expulsion of light that scathed with the furious blaze of his spiritual power, engulfing the entire hoard of black wolves, reducing them to little more than a fading plume of black that dissipated into nothing. As the last remnants of their essence fled, a calm replaced the screeching wail of his technique. His light began fading, and the elder's barrier felt as she rushed to his side.

"You did it! I can't believe it...we...we had all but given up hope."

Inari was panting heavily, the toll of such a mighty display weighing on him. Still, he was glad he could shield them in the end. But the battle, the actual fight, had yet to begin. Despite this, the survivors showered him with praise, an expression that made him noticeably unforgettable.

It was a bittersweet moment, to be sure. Though they had survived a brutal assault, many of their loved ones were not as fortunate. And though the immediate danger had passed, the Elder was still beside herself with worry. She kept her composure so as not to worry about the others.

The elder leans in, eyes narrowed.

"So it was you...I wasn’t just imagining it... that glow, that power."

Inari folded his arms as she got close to him.

"You must be, if not the spitting image of the man my great-great-grandmother told me about..."

Inari frowns, his brow raised slightly in curiosity.

"Your grandmother?"

"Yes... a story of a man with hair that burned like a scarlet blaze, eyes like that of a scheming fox..."

Inari crosses arms defiantly.

"Hmp... I do not scheme."

Elder nods, a faint smile appearing.

"She told of how our people once revered a great warrior who fought with the ferocity of a beast yet could weave life from his sinew. Blessed by the goddesses, favored by the land... that very man was the one who planted E’vanoris."

Inari sighs, shaking his head.

"I... do not deserve your praise. It was that man’s very hubris that brought the destruction of Moon Fang... as well as birthed the Moonscar. That man fell short, becoming a Black One."

The elder pauses, looking contemplative.

"Yet, despite that, she never once spoke of him being befouled. Only that he always seemed... so sad. A weeping moon. Even after we learned the truth... she would only speak of his bravery. His courage beaming from him like a beacon of silver and red, throwing himself before her, protecting her from monsters..."

Inari softened slightly.

"Monsters are not always those we face in battle. Sometimes, they lurk within us."

"True enough. But perhaps that sadness—those battles we wage inside—can forge something new. Like the E’vanoris itself, blooming from the ashes of despair. She is the last of her kind and has suffered for centuries, keeping this land pure from the foul ones' miasma. Yet, when her maker came, she did not turn from you but embraced you, granting you the final whispers of what life you gave her."

Inari meets the Elder’s gaze, contemplating,

"You speak wisely. But tell me, do you believe a person can be redeemed? Or are we doomed to repeat our ancestors' mistakes?"

Elder smiles gently.

"Redemption is not a straight path, young man. It is a winding road littered with the remnants of the past. That regret decorates us like ornaments of our failings. But if we dare to face our truths, perhaps we can begin a new legacy ."

Inari's eyes widened; that girl...the one Allen saved on a whim, her line persists, over half a Melinenia later. What stirred in him was a feeling he could scarcely place. Perhaps it was...pride? He felt the same pride from his vision of Allen, who stood tall in the defense of others. Having experienced such a thing, Inari has started to understand it more. He looked out to the clouds. They were...acceptable, her words, her sentiments.

"And the girl? What became of your granddaughter?"

At that moment, the elder's eyes became sunken with sadness.

"She was..."

The fallen moon returns...slithering snake, sunken in sadness...

It started as a whisper, a low rumble that morphed into a menacing growl as dark malefic formations swirled into existence above the village. The clouds churned ominously, their shapes coalescing into a colossal red eye that hung in the sky like a cosmic predator surveying its prey. Crimson lightning cracked through the darkness, illuminating the horror that emerged from the eye—a figure that twisted and writhed, its silhouette both ethereal and grotesque.

Inari immediately recognized the being of scathing red madness. He could recall the pull of its insanity when he first contacted it months ago after fending off her servants. This monstrosity was the Opresser, hunter of the Red Eye. Her eyes, voids of despair, bore down upon the villagers as her malevolence enveloped them like a shroud. A mask of scarlet bone adorned her face, with twisted horns protruding like broken branches. Each heartbeat felt like a dagger driving deeper into Inari’s skull, a palpable reminder of the darkness he had sought to escape.

"It is so good to see you again...glorious fallen one."

"It has only been a few months. Do not tell me you've missed my presence that much, demon."

"Do not play coy with me, morsel."

She purred, her voice dripping with malice.

"You, whom we trusted, were once the favored of the cosmos, blessed by twin goddess, a village that revered and loved you, the very planet answered your call... It has been a long four centuries since you betrayed me, since you befouled the Moonflow while I slept. You may have a different face, more meaning, but I can see it, the silvery gleam of your soul...Allen."

Inari’s breath caught in his throat as her words clawed at the fragments of his past. It was then that he knew the being he faced. He was mortified, almost too much so to speak. Sheepishly, her name drifted from his lips.

"M-Minratha?"

A bitter wind swept through the village, carrying her venomous laughter, a cruel sound that ignited fear in the hearts of those who had gathered. The smog of crimson essence began to cling to her flesh like a second skin, becoming an armor of red etched with old runic markings. In her had manifested a towering claymore fashioned from the same scarlet magic as her armor with a blazing eye in the middle of her chest, the brand of the one who owned her. Inari stared in horror; she...was nearly his spitting image. What...what was the eye trying to achieve making her like this?

"Scah! That name has long laid dead in the mud. I am Xora, The oppressor and Scarlet Knight of the Blood Moon. You speak of vengeance, and I am here to collect. For your betrayal, I will exact my toll."

He struggled to respond, the weight of her accusations crushing him.

"Minratha, I—"

"Save your wretched sympathies!"

She shrieked, her voice rising to a crescendo that shook the heavens.

"You have no right to grovel before me. You will pay with blood, Guardian. I have a daughter of your chief captive deep in the Moon Scar, and I intend to use her as a sacrifice—a blood ritual to transform her into my sister, the one you stole from me!"

A surge of anger and despair clawed at Inari’s heart. The image of an innocent girl, terrified and alone, flashed before his eyes.

"You cannot—"

He began, but Minratha’s laughter silenced him. The sound echoed, intertwining with the girl’s anguished cries that invaded their minds, a cruel taunt that wove into the very fabric of their beings.

"Time is running short, Guardian,"

She crooned, the satisfaction in her voice palpable.

"You should be making your way to save her instead of wasting breath trying to reason with me. Or would you rather listen to her screams while I prepare her for my dark offering?"

Inari felt the tides of anger swelling within him, battling against the tides of guilt that threatened to drown him. Could he genuinely face the being she had become, a victim of the very darkness that tormented him? The shadows of their shared past loomed over him, yet he could not afford to falter. She had become the very essence of scorn, a bringer of vengeance. The souls of the fallen who once leaned on her for shelter and protection have now been scalded to her soul, and their myriad woes smelted together into a servant of the Red One's purpose. Her grip was with him; he should have met her blade, not those who once revered her.

"Release her,"

He implored a desperate plea hanging between them.

"Take me instead. The sins of the past should rest with me. The girl...she doesn't deserve-"

Her laughter morphed into a snarl.

"You think I would exchange her life for yours? You are a fool! You have become...soft. I have no use for your petty existence...but my lord, who has promised me my land and my sister, returned to me. Has laid claim to your soul, and he shall have it. But before then, I will make sure you suffer In ways that even your past lives will feel it."

The crackle of lightning intensified, illuminating her visage, and for a brief moment, Inari saw not just a demon but the remnants of the goddess she once was. The girl’s cries pulled at his heart, a bond of innocence that rekindled a flicker of hope within him.

"I will not kill you, Minratha,"

He declared, defiance mingling with sorrow in his voice.

"I will find a way to save you, even if it means confronting the darkness that binds you. You are not a pawn of the Eye but a part of the Moonflow. It is just tangled up...but not lost."

At that moment, he saw something flicker in her crimson eyes—a fleeting glimpse of the goddess who once danced with the moonbeams. But it vanished as swiftly as it appeared, replaced by an expression of rage and sorrow.

"You would try to save me?"

She hissed, the storm's chaos intensifying.

"There is no saving what you have allowed me to become, Guardian! But I will revel in your futile attempts. Go then if you wish not to see the light of hope extinguished in the girl. I will enjoy watching you fail."

With that, the dark clouds began to recede, and the sinister figure of Minratha dissolved into shadows, leaving only the scarlet eye glowering in the heavens, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lingered—never speaking, never reaching, merely surveying, watching its heinous scheme unfold. Inari stood, heart pounding, a single resolve igniting within him. He had to confront the haunting echoes of his past, the malevolence that Minratha had embraced. He would not let her darkness consume the girl, nor would he abandon the memory of the goddess she once was. As the villagers huddled in fear, Inari turned towards the Moon Scar, determination burning in his chest. The path ahead would be perilous, but he would embrace it. For the sake of Grannis and an innocent and fallen goddess, he would face the shadows and seek redemption for both their souls.

"My girl...Hellena is stubborn and often rigid."

The Elder began to tear up, knowing the demon's intentions only deeper her fears. She was mortified to think of the pain her girl could be enduring.

"But she has a heart of gold, a smile that can douse the mightiest flame....so please...don't."

Inari wings spread, showcasing their mighty span of over 7ft. He touched his chest, the wound healed by the tree's roots, before turning back to the Elder from over his shoulder.

"I will save her..."

He turned to E'vanoris, who was taking her last breaths. He placed his hand on its trunk, befallen with puss-like malefic energy and rotten wood. If he could but intwist the shadows infesting her. But such a task was beyond even he as he was. Instead, he thanked the tree and commended her for her hard work. He was proud of her and that she could rest, knowing he would make things right again.

"I promise... without fail."

"What of the Desires? Without the E'vanoris, we cannot stand against them."

"You...have nothing to fear. She did this at the behest of her master, who told her of my coming. Though she has become...haughty Minratha...Xora is no fool. She knows she will need every ounce of her army and might to stand against me. It is why she beckons towards the Moon Scar, where I will be at a disadvantage and where she is most powerful."

"Then we shall remain her and attend to our dead. I will be praying for your safe return...the both of you."

Inari would nod before taking off with a powerful flux of his wings towards the Moon Scar. Though he wasn't entirely sure how he would do it, he was determined to find a way to tear Minratha from the Red Eye's grasp. He ...didn't want to have to slay another loved one.

In the heart of the dying land, the Moon Scar, shadows danced amidst a cacophony of tortured cries and haunting whispers. Inari, the fierce protector of Grannis, trudged forward through the twisted landscape, the scent of decay wrapping around him like a shroud. Each step was met with resistance, as if the ground sought to swallow him whole. This cursed land was born from the dark ambitions of Allen, whose demonic sorcery had twisted the fabric of reality, corrupting the earth and its inhabitants alike. The air crackled with malevolent energy, and the once-vibrant colors of Vescrutia had turned into a palette of despair. With each breath, Inari felt the weight of Xora, the Scarlet Knight of the Red Eye, looming over him. She was a formidable adversary, an Eldritch Lord cloaked in red, her essence entwined with the Moon Scar. Her presence was a palpable force; being here, he could already feel his vigor being drained from him like he was slowly being consumed.

"...."

He said nothing; his every thought centered around keeping himself anchored. One misstep and his entire being would become smelted into the cursed gloom of those who have fallen thus far. Every moment he was here, he was bombarded by the howling scorn of those who perished here in an advent that could only be described as a calamity. The very tree bore the haunting visages of the thousand different dead. Foliage that was once used to spread serenity and protection was now being used as spires to expand Xora's horrid influence. As

"Youu daare return...stain...spec"

A drifting gale carried the augury. The black of the cracked earth seemed to grab at him, black tar-like hands nabbing hat his feet. The air heavy with this realm's lamentation, he looked at his hands, shocked to find them saints with crimson, the thick scent of rotting ichor. No matter how much he shook his hands, the grime would not leave. It began to sting and gradually devour the flesh on his hands, revealing bare bones. He began to panic until he heard Xora cackle on the following wind.

"She toys with me..."

He steeled his mind, closing his eyes and calming his breath, breaking her illusion. Here, he was far more susceptible to her mental warfare, his heart so heavily weighed by his guilt and her control over the land. Then the shadows coalesced into a tide of horrors: Desires, demon spawn birthed from the corruption of the once noble souls, surged forth. They were manifestations of greed, hatred, and fear, each a grotesque parody of the mortal it once was. Warped by their never-ending hatred for the one who brought them to such a state. As long as Inari walked with the tonnage of his guilt and regrets, the curse of the land would continue to torment him. No doubt, this was Xora's scheme, to torture him with a relentless barrage of psychic torment, stalling him for as long as possible, weakening him as much as she could, and biding time to perform the rite. As long as his sorrows loomed over him, he constantly suffered the debuffs to his abilities. But he could not stop; he would not stop. Even if he were reduced to little more than a walking circus, he wouldn't stop. He was...tired. I'm tired of being the plaything of monsters and being viewed as a base beast himself. The moment he felt the first pulse of his power and the force of his CORE, Inari knew he was destined for more than this... more. Yet, despite his every attempt to fly, he was always plummeted back down to the earth due to the weight of his past. Today would mark the first proper step in his journey towards freeing those stained by his transgressions and untangling another thread of turmoil within his heart.

"Even if it takes another thousand years...I will not stop until this curse and its master are vanquished."

He continued through the wilted forest. It was a harrowing journey that he did not shy away from. He stared into the hollow eyes of each human-like figure; he received the wind's lashings, the earth's bite. Falling, tripping, bleeding, but not broken. Eventually, making it to the Crimson Vale, where Xora planned to perform an act of vile worship to her lord. Here, in the heart of font of power, the ebbs of madness were like one tsunami after another, pounding against the seams of his sanity, looking for even the most minor crack to nestle into. But he had kept more than his wits about him. Although he could not conjure his Mana into the material realm, it still coursed through him, fighting against her derelict influence, preventing her from further corrupting him. But resisting such a malignant and powerful aura took practically all his focus and intention. He stared at the reddened architecture. Its very design invited a wisp of madness as if trying to comprehend its structure was an invitation to a curse in and of itself. Yet, he could not wipe the feeling of familiarity from his mind.

"Xora! I have come here as you have asked! Release the girl! Show yourself to me!"

His words fell silent on the winds as a sharp, chilling gale sent a coldness up his spine. The Eye of the Red Lord lingering in the sky. Then, her mad cackle filled the air like the screeching of a murder of crows.

"And so you have come! I must admit, as an embodiment of selfishness and ceaseless satisfaction I boggles my mind that you have come to save this girl...what could move you so? Pain? Guilt? Do you lament your actions?"

Inari did not respond immediately. He could feel her intention, asking meaningless questions to cause him to consider, drifting his attention from protecting himself to pondering her words. He would not give in.

"Not solely the girl; I have come for you as well."

The winds drew silent, a lasp in their hatred; the Eye narrowed as if reminding her of her purpose, and her voice returned.

"Do you recognize this place? It was here, this very building, that my sister, Sophia, once stood as a pillar of elegance over the Gloom Blossoms...oh...how she loved flowers..."

"And now it's become a symbol of your depravity...."

"Mine? Ha... You once accused her of being unable to understand mortals, that they were mere playthings to her. But it was Sophia who understood man's heart more than any other. So much so that she gave her entire purpose to guarding their dying wishes and knowledge....even...falling in love with one. But now, all that she protected is withered and lost. You all erased a botanical archive of insight, wisdom, love, lies, hatred, and ambition!"

"Minratha..."

"Enough! What now grows here are roses of blood, the soiled reflections of those trapped within the Moon Scar, a garden of crimson. Her Night Sacrium is now my Crimson Vale, it is here that I shall bring forth our great Lord and have my sister returned to me and together we shall serve the Red One!"

"You do not have to do this! Let Hellena Go!"

"Silence cur... there is not much time left. If you seek entry, then you must best my pet...only through its blood being spilled shall the door to the Vale open."

The earth before the door began to spit up a geyser of black and crimson ichor; the smell of dying flesh stained the air. The snarling mass began to take shape, soon morphing into a massive Desire, a twisted embodiment of the soiled land's malefic presence. Inari, who stands 7ft tall, was dwarfed by not only the staggering height of this beast, nearly twice his own, but its horrifying spiritual presence was mountainous compared to his own. With his connection to Amrit being stifled and his bond with the earth severed, he had only his blood to depend on. Still, he had to prevail; he could not return on his promise to the elder...nor Xora herself. His words, however oddly placed, were indeed his bond. He refused to go back on them now.

"No matter what you throw at me, Xora, I will not be bested..."

Her voice left only a light chuckle, replaced by the great howl of the demon before him. Standing before the door like a loyal guard dog to the very gates of hell.

The beast snarled, radiating a potent aura of pure madness, the likes of which Inari found it troubling to exist near. It was as if everything here, the Desires included, were trying to unravel him thread by thread. It was taking all that he possessed to...be. If not for his hold of both Mana and Naten, he would've succumbed to the Moon Scar putridicty already. However, he could hold himself together by keeping the last fleeting glimmers of the Moonflow's essence within him. The final boon of the last Lunarwood, E'vanoris. But that was all he was able to do. If he used Mana to face the demon, he would have no means of guarding himself against the Moon Scar/Zora's affluence, leaving him entirely at the mercy of their conjoined vehemence. Now, with such a vicious foe before him, he would have to rely on his cunning more than brute barbaric force.

The Demon before him, however, was not troubled by such qualms; it was a staggering amalgam of festering hatred and smoldering resentment, and chaos wrapped beneath the beast's visage when it was like a living bestial flame. Yet despite being at less than half his available power, he would not buckle beneath the astral tyranny of the creature before him, nor would he allow himself to be crumbled by Xora's malice. For within him thrummed not the tone of one heart, but to and besides those were the memories of those who had given their lives for him, this very moment. Folks who chose to believe that he was capable of more than destruction; their sacrifice and faith kept the flame in his heart burning, the light in his chest growing as his blood aggregated.

"I wonder...what you were in your previous life...did you once care for animals? Were you one?"

The Demon rebuttal with nothing more than a flagrant roar that shook the ground before taking off at a furious speed that defied reason, swinging its mighty claws with a grand cleave, one that caused the earth to be upheaved. Inari barely had enough time to respond, hardening the blood in his arm, granting them the resilience of diamonds before throwing them in defense of his vitals. Even with this maneuver, the sheer physical might of the demon sent him flying into a mass of stone several meters away from the castle. True to its purpose, it had no intention of letting the Crimson Crown step foot on its master's doorstep. Inari cloaked himself with his wings, fortifying them in the same way he did his arms, allowing him to lessen the damage of the impact. In a fluid motion, he would now be floating in the sky, glaring down at this monstrosity. As a Myotis, Inari possessed impressive natural strength and speed but was far from superhuman physical might. In the face of such a threat, he typically relied on his spiritual privilege and mighty regenerative powers to see him through such encounters. But under the oppressive dogma of the Moonscar inhibiting his use of the land and Xora's disruption of his access to mana, he had but his bare blood and bone to rely on.

"Whatever you were...know that I sincerely lament how this has all played out...but."

Inari's body became emboldened by a brilliant crimson gleam as his naten rose. His rise in power and spiritual prowess had, in some ways, separated him from his original techniques. He was a master of blood magic, and so long as his well refused to run dry, he would never be left defenseless or without power. Though the earth amplified his conjuration, he was not entirely dependent on it. It merely... lessened the burden. But this wasn't an ordeal he could face by being a minimalist or micromanaging his reserve. He had to cautiously put everything on the line for those who gave all they could to grant him this chance at healing the past and redefining his future.

"I can't afford to take pity on you...."

The beast's back began to bulge. The Desire's howl of anguish sprouts a series of blackned wood-like tendrils melding into a set of wings. Inari's eyes widened, watching the corrupted wood manipulate itself in such a way. This monstrosity was able to beckon the very land that fought against his intentions. Able to wield the cursed land to its whim. Still, Inari would not allow himself to be shown up; even without his favored techniques, he was still a sorcerer in a league of his own. He had yet to meet another blood magic user of his caliber, a trait he treasured, a legacy handed down from his mother and the long line of Myotis sorcerers prior. With her memory, did he mold his essence, forging a spear of blood. His aura of bloody naten tightened around him, creating a veil of mystic essence that stained his flesh once more—invigorating his physical being once more as his heart pumped fervently. The Myotis are a species of pique physical condition. However, Inari was born with a weaker physical constitution than others. Now, he knew that the eye's meddling caused it. To compensate for his lack of physical might, Inari has learned that he can fortify his physical structure by suffusing his blood with naten, a form of enchanting that gives him the might needed to withstand those who possess such power.

"I will...put an end to your servitude."

The Desire roared, taking to the skies and accosting him in seconds; they exchanged an incredible array of blows. Each strike from the beast carried bone-shattering force, yet Inari countered each with a parrying strike of his own, feeling the weight of the creature's assault with each blow. He would not buckle, nor could he fall. They trailed the skies like a twisting twin comet of black and crimson, each blow erasing the clouds from the skies. The last of these blows saw his spear crossed against the creature's claws. This foe forced him to consider what he sought to achieve here. What he fought for and what it meant to be of the Bat Evlen bloodline. It was then he recalled Udiah..and a technique he used that, had Inari not been endowed with his third omen at the time, could have indeed fallen prey to. Myotis drew on the strength of the moon, one of their most notable traits; however, aside from this, they also were masters of sound, though they had not utilized it without Amrit amplification. With Udiah's mastery bestowed upon him and his prior experience facing the destructive magnitude of the Nakrin, mammoth elvs that the creature, Orca, once used to devastate Inari sonically filled him with inspiration. But conjuring enough force to weave a spell powerful enough to finish this creature would take time, and he could not guarantee. Still, he had to try, for matching the beast blow for blow would result in nothing else but his destruction.

Just as he caught a whiff of possibility, the creature's tail snaked around, thrashing into his abdomen and cracking several ribs before sending him plummeting into the ground, creating a massive creator. Before he could react, the beast followed up its assault with a vicious stomp that more profoundly affected the crater's impact, causing the earth to splinter and creating several cases. Inari spit up an obscene amount of blood, the pain of his wounded gut sending his senses haywire. He nearly lost coolness, but his indomitable will kept him clinging to reality.

"D-dammit..."

His spear was knocked several meters away from him as ht beast seemed to smirk aggressively, its forked tongue slithering out its mouth and lapping at the blood spatter. Don't the ground next to him? A grim satisfaction came across its grim mug and the incurable yearning to taste more. It became frenzied and vehemently began stomping on his, every step burying him deeper and deeper. He could barely withstand the demon's attacks, let alone focus long enough to knead together the needed naten to complete his spell.

"Do...not..."

A voice...as faint as a whisper crept not into his mind; it was more a feeling than a thought. He recognized it...

"Fight...Devour....CARVE!"

It was Amrit! Though he was submerged under Xora's pressure, glimmers of his ephemeral presence echoed within Inari. As the beast went to land, its next attack, the spilled crimson pooling around him sprung to life, the "Reach" spell creating a massive clawed tendril that caught the hooved creature's foot, digging its claws into the beast's leg with crushing force. The Desire howled in anguish and fury, but before it could retaliate, Inari flicked his left hand, causing the spear to rise, to zip through the air like a sanguine dart aiming to swear the beast in the head. The beast used its hand to defend against the spear, penetrating its hand, yet it barely even registered the wound. Confidently, it returned its attention to Inari, trying to overpower the tendril with its superior physical power. Inari would smirk as the separate head expanded, exploding into a flurry of crimson thorns that littered the best body in a scaldingly acidic projectile. The stinging essence caused the creature to become distracted, trying to pull it from its body.

"Though I cannot call upon you...we are never separated...right, Amrit?"

The moment the beast became distracted, Inari's tendril deeper its hold, usurping its balance by yanking furiously at its leg, flinging the great monster with fantastic force, causing it to skip across the earth like a stone across a lake. Inari, with this bit of reprieve, lifted his battered body from the crater. The greatest blessing given by his family was not its power but its presence. Amrit was the living manifestation of Inaari's furious and determined nature-given form. He was a reflection of Inari's soul, and as long as he remembered this, he was never truly alone; even if he could not see nor call upon him, Amrit was always with him, guarding his CORE. This reminder emboldened Inari and gave him exactly what he needed to end this fight, a faint foreign feeling...

Faith...

"Art of Blood; Flesh and Bone..."

From the myiad of the wound, his blood sept out. It was risky, considering his state, but he had to buy himself time to draw together the needed force to finish this. Though he could not conjure Amri using mana, he was a master conjure and had more than enough prowess to bring to life a retention of Amrit using his blood. Thus, the blood of his ava was called forth, shaping into a giant cardinal creation of blood, flesh, bone, and white fur. Its paws are drenched in the blood of its creation, standing just as tall as the opposition. Though it lacked Amrit's personality and soul, it possessed his incredible might and would serve as the perfect combat and shield to guard Inari whilst he prepared his spell. The Desire lifted from its position, its body still covered in the acidic bloody thrones. They were too numerous to focus on taking out one by one, and so with a deep inhale and powerful exhale, its body buffed out, releasing and expelling the scarlet thorns from its body. It then saw the finished product of its prey's magics. A towering fox creature growling with untamed fury. The grotesque mockery of life roared, charging with blinding speed, tearing the earth beneath its feet; Amrit's puppet howled a vehement call before intercepting, and Inari placed distance between him and the warring monster. Taking the time to center his breathing despite the pain he was suffering from.

"I have to..keep going, no matter how much it hurts..."

His labored breath began to calm, and though an aching agony accompanied every breath, he had to close his heart to it and draw on the strength that flowed within him. He could not depend on the moon, land, or his CORE. All he had...all he needed was his blood, bone, and flesh. He began to weave together ava; this incantation would be a lengthy one...

Usually, Inari would not need such an archaic form of manifestation; however, with the odds stacked against him, he had to weave far more intention and purpose into his arbitor than usual. It was a humbling experience, to be sure. Where he could once string together a continuous stream of relentless mystic barrages, he now needed to slow down and focus to unleash powerful arts. However, with his bloody incarnation of Amrit keeping the demon's attention, he had the precious moment he needed to knit the needed naten together to perform the sonnet he needed. The one that came to mind was the very one his twin moon sang as he gave his life to save him. No, Aurelius's Serenade saved not just Inari but the whole of Acrix. What he achieved single-handedly opened the door for Zeik, Nagase, and Inari himself to join hands. To experience It was an old, ancient ballade sung on the day the nine families were established. It was a refrain that inspired hope and solidified their bond as relatives. Nine heritages joined under the single banner of Hellgate. The cadence of Aurelius' burning spirit brought the fresh winds needed to inspire more change in the Astral.

"That is it...that's my anchor..."

As Inari settled on the emotions Aurelius' song brought up, his hands swayed almost as if he was dancing. His mind locked onto the dance he shared with Aurelius, who took him by the hand, and in perfect unity, they survived an ordeal that should have been impossible.

The bewildered, glazed-over look in Aurelius’s eyes filled with blind devotion, how they drew him closer to his moon, how he epitomized Inari’s every thought, even daring to challenge him at times A confidant, a helpful tool, and a spare canvas, all wrapped in one.

In truth, Aurelus had become more to him than a simple puppet for him to string along at his leisure. In such a short time, he had become possibly the most crucial figure in Inari's life, for he had never witnessed someone staring at him with such a fervent sense of faith, absolute concrete belief that his path would bring an age of prosperity. It was still tricky for Inari to foresee, but like Hyomyn, who held an imperishable belief in his friend Allen, so did Aurelius in his crown. As his ava thummed, Inari began to recreate the song, each note giving his arbitor purpose, shaping the image of the spell needed to place victory in his hand.

"His...was a song of anguish, notes of pain and the sorrow of defeat...."

Inari's notes became low, deep, woeful expressions that caused the earth beneath him to tremble and the air around him to vibrate. His naten meshed with the molecules, causing them to dance in rhythm with his moment. In his mind's eye, Aurelius was back in his arms. The only creature alive that ever sought to understand him, to learn him...to know him. Each step he took was an ode to his loss, each movement and sway of his hand a beckoning of Aurelius's memory.

"You worry that darkness awaits where you tread; that pain is your only keepsake. That your is a path leading only to death and destruction...But..Inari...to me..."

Inari's eyes swelled with tears, remembering how his heart thumped as Aurelis said his parting words. Before Aurelius, Inari was a book forced open; under the security of his gaze, nothing could be hidden. It... freighted Inari, who enjoyed being the enigma, catching the world constantly unawares. But not Aurelius; he witnessed Inari's curse, his tether to the moon, and his innermost hardships and still chose to stand beside him. A warmth began to settle in him, relaxing his vocal cords as they became engorged with naten. As much as it unnerved him to be so...visible, so seen, it was... comforting to know that he did not bear the weight of his crown, his loss alone. Aside from Amrit, one other person on this planet understood him. He...could hold no shame in his heart when he had a consort like the Golden Fur.

MMMMMRRRAAAOAOAOAAAARRR!!!!

Meanwhile, the two titans waged a bloody war against each other to serve a greater being who sought the other's destruction. The Desire unleashed a furious onslaught of attacks, its bloody howl conjuring a spire of fitted cursed earth aiming to skewer Amrit. However, the nimble conjuration used the spire instead to close the gap between them, taking to the skies and landing a fearsome bite on the nape of the demon's neck, burying its long, sharp fangs and claws into the demon's back. It's wails of pain screeching through the air. There were many spires, yet Inari, recreating his last dance with Aurelius, found his senses heightened to an uncanny state. Even without the boon from the physical moon, The Red canopy cast by the eye prevented the midnight glow from showering him with lunar vigor, yet within him churned a spectral influence of his personal moon. Aurelius, who likened Inari to that of a crimson sun, so perfectly reflected his rays as if they were his own. Drawing on that inspiration, his passing words resonated within him again.

"Do you know the secret of the moon? On its own, the Moon has no light. It only shines...because the sun is so brilliant. Together, they sing a song of cosmic accordance. When the sun needed to rest, the moon continued its work. It is a primordial performance that will continue to dance and sing long after you and I are but after thoughts of fables lost in the winds. Though your body might have been cursed by darkness... your soul...that seed. Is the life-giving rays of the sun itself."

"Aurelius, you spoke as if..you were, but a desolate rock devoid of its light...but in truth."

The demon forced its wings to morph, becoming blade-like branches that plunged deep into Amrit's sides, causing the fox beast to let up, lifted in the air by the Demon's incredible strength. The fox writhed in agony, snapping its jaws vengefully at the Desire, taunting it to come just an inch closer so that it might have it not torn from its face. Yet the beast slowly sunk its appendages deeper into the fox, moving around inside, causing Amrit as much pain as possible, tormenting him. Though Inari knew this was a mock creation of amrit devoid of its essence, it was merely a conjured shape, hearing him wail still pulled at his heartstrings. But he could not cease his invocation now and consisted to weave his naten together.

"If I am the sun, then you were the very concept of light itself."

Then, Inar's ballade went from a low vocal fry to a gradually escalating vibrato that twisted into grandiose falsetto. This expression brought up so much for Inari that he could scarcely contain the fearsome energy it created; the very air corresponded to his movements, the horrid winds wailing in defense of this purity; he...was grieving, releasing the energy of that feeling of loss and embracing the warmth of celebration, for all that Aurelius was, his flaws, his failing, his triumphs, his valor. Whisking together to create a font of arcana, the likes of which even Xora's cardinal blasphemy could not overshadow. His profound crimson aura began to shift its hue, its crackling golden bolts of energy sparking to life like lightning. Amrit, though tired from its extreme loss of blood, its life nearly at its end, caught a glorious second wind of inspiration comprised of Inari's liquid crimson, which was conjoined in the mixing of his scores.

"Can you...hear me, My moon?"

Invigorating by the mystic affluence of Inari's aria, Amrit's soaked fur began to glow with the same furious claret hue. 's eyes began burning with a searing golden gleam as its bloody aura burning-like light, and flame cleaved through the winged tendrils. The Demon swiped at Amrit with its tall sending. It crashed into the bridge, shattering it to pieces. Amrit gripped the side of the cliff, hanging on for dear life.

"This...is for you..."

Amrit shadow felt itself slipping away, not only because of its waning grip on the Rockside but also because the life given was nearing its end. Its purpose nearly served, for what its master had been able to weave would prove itself to become an Arbitor of legendary proportions. Originally, Inari had no idea of what form his conjuring would take; he merely needed a spell to accomplish his goal of vanquishing this great terror before him. When he began weaving the needed ava, little did he know that he would be performing an ode to his dearly departed, a promenade of celebration and grief as he sang in the ancient tunes of his ancestors. It was like invoking the essence of their psychic reality but tailoring it to his flesh, allowing him to perceive the world around him in such a way that all became...frequency. Then, he recalled the feeling that he, Zeik, and Nagase shared.

Inariel eyes illuminated with awe and a smile caressed his face the likes of which he's never expressed. He danced around the stone laughing, crying, smiling. Zeik ushered a smile of his own before finally taking a seat at the edge of the stone flooring. He watched as ‘time,’ began to collapse, the myriad of possibilities condensing into their final reality.

Dancing atop the Hadalstone, Inari remembered how connecting to the others felt. The glue of Aurelius's sacrifice forging a cosmic adhesive allowed them to experience the bonds of the first kings, the founders of the nine families. His song, the melody of his soul burning, his life, a living flame that helped them burn away the darkness that was Antares's hubris given form...was like watching the birth and destruction of a star.

"I...pledged a vow to you. Yet ever since I have done so, I have done little more than lean on your power and your ambitions to be a preserver. Your light, so resplendently red, was like staring into a dying sun freshly reborn. Like witnessing the birth of a galaxy."

He reflected on this, performing his primordial performance, imagining his moon, himself the sun, and finally settled on a form for his spell. He had been allowing his blood to spill the entire time he was in motion, orbiting around him and mirroring his movement. After gaining what he needed, he stopped moving that blood, shaping it into a massive red bubble. The massively accumulated naten coalesced in his throat, and as his dance slowed to a slow halt, his fingers tail from the base of his neck to his chin, swollen by the surplus of energy he had gathered.

"Mystic Art!!"

Hearing the musical score silenced, knowing its task was complete, the fox creation smirked before letting itself fall into the endless casym of the Moonscar, devoured by the haunting abyss below. Initially, the Desire was confused, but from the corner of its eye, it saw Inari's red orb, and what's more, it could feel the sonic force he had conjured. Rslzing now that it had been fooled, the beast took off in a blaze of speed, creating a nearly blazing crater. It went straight for the bubble, ignoring every cell in its body, telling it to flee, but the dogma of its mistress could not be destroyed. From Inari's mouth, the great font of sonic potential shrunk to the size of a crimson stone, like a piece of ethereal garnet that carried the weight of the cosmos. Sound, blood, and song given form. It permeates the bubble, the intensity of its being causing Inari's blood bubble to oscillate rigorously, creating a gas that would seal this demon's fate.

"Fel Star!!!!!!"

As its massive claw reached the bubble, Inari's song reached its apex, and in a fluid display of vocal majesty, his majestic bellow became an otherworldly haunting whistle. Creating a pulsing spectrum of light just before it collapsed blossoming into a grandiose expulsion of light, heat, and force the like of which erupting into a brilliant explosive cataclysm that engulfed the entire area in a defeating roar of pure undiluted power the likes of which reduced the great demon to nothing more than an afterthought...

An arbiter forged from passion, sewn together using the fabrics of his heart and the song of Aurelius. The winds twisted into a litany of smaller storms. The earth, blackned once, is now stained with an almost permanent bloody red. His hair flailing wildly in the passing shockwaves that practically destroyed the entire area, The Crimson Vale, Zora's castle, managed to escape total destruction. Inari would be seen glaring furiously at the sky, leering at the Red Eye whose scarlet pupil loomed above, squinting down at him as if, for the very first time since it began hounding him, its expressions changed. As if it was finally acknowledging the potential threat the creature once deemed but a flickering fly might pose. Inari said nothing, knowing the demon would not respond to him. Instead, he pointed his finger towards it, his eyes becoming arrows that spoke volumes of his intent. He was coming for the demon, it would not be able to hide from him much longer. Until now, Inari had been rummaging around in the dark, fumbling over breadcrumbs of information, trying to decipher the nature of the curse that haunts him and the nature of the one who sired it. This monster was unlike typical villains who could not wait to show their hand to their opposition, their careless hubris, much like Antares, becoming their downfall. No, the Eye proved to be a patient sentinel merely crafting scheme after scheme, weaving one heinous event after another, sowing discord and mayhem in the lives of the hopeless...then presented itself as if it was the answer to their scorned prayers.

Then, sitting back and watching the cacophony unfold. It possessed an uncanny sense of patience, literally standing in wait for four centuries for Allen to finally crack under the pressure of his desires building, his mana corroding. More so, its endlessly tyrannical pursuit of Inari had stretched over a thousand years and several other incarnations. And if Antares and the others who had observed his spirit were correct...the Eye had crossed both time and space, planes even in pursuit of his soul. And yet, Inari was none the wiser in that regard as to why. His soul was powerful, but he could not understand why his singular essence was so pivotal to a creature of such power. One that operated as if time was but a thing to merely be observed for it. Knowing this only deepens Inari's resolve to see its crimson stare wiped from the cosmos.... ultimately, not in the next lifetime, but in this one. But first...he needed to save Hellena...and Minratha.

"Xora!!"

He yelled as he wearily approached the castle, his steps even heavier now. After such a vibrant display of raw power, he found his reserves even more taxed, the price paid for using techniques welded together with his second heart. Though it promised extraordinary power, it also was far more taxing on the body, and with his already compromised physical condition, the backlash would only prove more detrimental. Even with his body battering his soul, his ego remained intact. Thus, he screamed the Eldritch knight's name, demanding she honor her bargain.

"I have bested your beast! Now, open the way, let's finish this."

There was no immediate answer, yet Inari noticed that all around him fell silent. The wailing winds and the aching earth seemed to come to a terrier calm as the eye's expression shifted as if the face behind it was smiling.

AHHHHH!!!!

A horrid scream tore through the silence like a rigged blade serrating flesh. It was not Xora's voice...it must have been Hellena! The wails caused the barrier upon the domain to shatter like glass as the doors parted open. With no further delay, Inari, emboldened by a more profound sense of urgency, took off in a flash of speed that betrayed his wounds. The place could be littered with traps designed to slow him down or slay him outright. It mattered not to him, he could not handle the thought of Hellena being tortured by Xora a moment longer, she was head strong sure, but under the magnitude of dmeonic influence coupled with torture, even the bravest soul might find itself cracking...if not shattering entirely. He would not, could not stomach another suffering as he had...as Xora and the others had.

He approached a large, massive, winding staircase ascending to what he assumed was the top of the castle. The inner chambers of the expanse were filled with Desires. He could not waste time in a skirmish against them all, knowing their only purpose was to stall him for as long as possible. The lingering energy from his earlier conjuration aided his assault on the castle, cleaving through only the demons necessary for him to advance. All the while, during his passion, Xora's powerful psychic attacks became all the more ruthless, harrowing echoes of Hellena's bloodied cries and pleading for death haunting him, striking at the seams of his sanity. His movements became almost like a beast. He fell to all four, barreling through the crowd, eventually coming upon a large door crafted from blood crystal. With a scream of ultrasonic waves, the crystal instantly became dust, allowing Inariel to burst through the door, where he witnessed a devilish scene.

Inari's eyes filled with despair as they reflected on the mortifying scene before him. A crimson baldachin of blood, the corpses of numerous mortals stung up like flies captured in the sanguine webbing of their sinews. Their leaking lifeforce traverses the divinely orchestrated articles of thread leading to the center attached to a woman covered in numerous lacerations. The red cloth barely covers her body on her person. Standing in front of her was a masked figure adorned in robs that shone in the light like the finest silks in its hand, a chalice of bone fashioned into what looked to mirror glass.
On the other hand, a dagger is teeming with cursed energy. Under the bloodied captive was an altar radiating a thick, palpable, sanguine power. Dark, old, blood magic... such an intricate rite. It could only be accomplished by a being of incomparable occult knowledge.

"Hellena!!"

Inari cried out, yet as he moved forward, the bloodied earth beneath rippled like water, and from it, several other cloaked figures arose. They were all masked, yet their adoration differed from the one cutting into Hellena, whose mask was inscribed with a glimmer of gold and garnet etchings. They surrounded him, creating a circle with him and the gold mask at its center.

Wolf Mask: "My lady, your sense of time, why, it is truly divine…"

Spoke the Wolf mask; its voice gave him the impression of a male, with notes of arrogance and pride. He turned to face him with a movement that spoke of his regal conditioning. He held the dagger over the altar, allowing Hellena's blood to drip onto it casually, each drop a new palpation of energy.

"Get away from her!"

Inari snarled at the figure through his labored.

Blood Red Mask: "My word, she said he was a barker."

Another softer voice spoke, but this one came from a woman who was also masked, but she was pure blood red.

Sultry Mask: "But she didn't mention that he was so handsome."

Said the other female figure, who seemed to be on the left side of the others. Her tone was more raspy and sultry, and she demanded respect.

Wolf Mask: "Acheme...Ladies, we have a ritual to witness."

"Bah, Xennin, why must you sully our fun? Elena, sister, can his blood be ours?"

Elena: "No, he is right, Mirana, sister; we, the Red Oracles, must bear witness. Is this not so? Pettica?"

Pettica: "Yes, we must bear witness."

"Enough with all this prattling; if you do not release her, then I shall pry her from your corpses."

Inari said slowly as he approached them.

Mirana: "The beast bares its fangs...."

Pettica: "But we must not indulge, for our duty is merely to watch, to survey."

Elena: "Only watch as his crimson feeds the Fel One."

The three women in unison: "Just as our lord watches us, we observe him. His works, his divinity. His Laws..."

"I'll be picking your guts from my fangs long before you succeed."

Xennin: "Careful, Boy, the one you face is the mistress of this domain. She has been slumbering, awaiting your arrival. She should not be long now."

"Demons...who are you find? Pawns of the eye?!"

Soon, Inari found himself swiftly outnumbered.

Pettica: "We those who serve the whispers of the Red Reign, body bowed before the Highest Being."

Elena: "That which sired the world of Red, the Harbinger of Eternal Garnet."

Pettica: "Only through his scarlet divinity will we know true peace and power. Through our sanguine sovereign, the truths of the universe and magic will be bequeathed to us."

Mirana: "We are the instruments of his cadence of carnage, the vessel of his blood song. Through the sinew of his foes, we sift through the weave of fate, the nebula of crimson thread that binds all life....and unlife...."

Xennin: "We are the Hand of the Fel Sovereign, and you...boy, have been personally marked by our god. Lament your standing no longer. Embrace the crimson eternity. And fight to become our lord reborn, fight so that this petty world might be saved, reforged through flame and blood."

Their voices synced together, creating a chord of corruption and devotion. A dark harmony of unity that birthed an almost nauseating sensation of dread and weight. Whatever these beings were, they were not flesh; he could smell the conurbations; they were merely projections yet served as manifestations of energy barring his advance. He had only thought that the Eye was a demon seeking his soul...but the truth was far broader and more meaningful than he could have ever predicted. There...was an entire organization behind its machinations.

"Now that the introductions are over..."

A low rumble began to shake the castle as red lightning flashed across the sky. The cultists immediately bowed, removing themselves from the center. A burgundy flame began to carve into the very air, creating a runic outline of her person; Xora was freshly awakened from her assault on Grannis.