The sea was cruel and unforgiving as it slammed into a flimsy raft. The wood broke into two and an elf fell into the raging water. With weak hands, he gripped the wooden remnants floating on the surface. The wind howled, pronouncing judgment upon him. The gray skies had never looked so menacing.

A coward. That's what he was. Why did he think that running away would save him?

The water rose in an angry wave and sped towards him. A whimper escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and prepared for impact. Tons of water slammed into him. His fingers slipped from the wood. He went under.

Saltwater assaulted his nostrils as he flailed about, looking for the promised light. Darkness swallowed him as much as the water did. His heart hammered in his chest. Panic rose to his throat and he forgot how to swim for a second.

He won't die here. Gritting his teeth and kicking his legs, he narrowed his eyes and shot upward against the current. His fingers gripped wood. It took everything in him to haul himself up. Overhead, the sea had gone insane. Thunder boomed and lightning lashed. The elf suppressed a whimper and looked back.

The mass of land that once had been his home was now a strip of dark shadow on the horizon. He didn't deserve to go back, not after what he has done. Memories flashed into his mind as he remembered every event that led up to...here. Perhaps, dying at sea was only rightful for him.

What was he even trying to prove? He hadn't even fulfilled his goal. Those heathens tricked him into playing along with their plan. He shouldn't have...

Another wave slammed into him. He grunted as he tightened his hold on the broken raft. His legs had already gone numb. He prayed to every god he knew of as water threatened to tear him from his salvation. Please. Not his fingers too.

The wave passed. The elf shivered as he draped both arms on the raft. He panted as his eyes started to shut. The current was taking him somewhere.

Where... One glance at the sparkling heavens told him where he would end up once the storm was over.

Uma Siore. The Land of the Fairies. Killer of Elves.

He back-paddled. No, go back. He must go back. He couldn't—

Another wave slammed into him and swept him away from the raft. No! The water swallowed him. You shall not escape, it seemed to be roaring against him. He flailed and kicked his legs. Then, he remembered he couldn't move his legs anymore. Oh, gods. Someone, anyone—help! He opened his mouth to scream but only salt water filled it. He gurgled.

The current took charge of his body as he sank. Not that island, please! He knew what fate awaited him on that island. He may have succeeded in getting away from one hell but he wasn't ready to go into another. They would kill the likes of him there. He would not go there.

The sea had other ideas. It sent another wave against him. He fought with all his might to end up anywhere other than that place. His vision blackened. He tried moving his arms but even they were ravaged by the cold.

The last thing he saw before the depths consumed him was the the Harbringer of Death, the moon, Krossa. She glared down at him like a foreshadowing. He used the last of his energy to extend his arm to the sky. Just once, he wished he could have tasted it like he always dreamed of.

His consciousness faded and a thought escaped his mind.

Ryneja, Caryn. I'm sorry.

A boy stumbled into the dark, clutching a tome to his chest as he ran. He looked back and whimpered as soldiers from the legendary Kumri chased after him. They had come to his shack and he didn't know why.

The fog had swallowed the horizon. He couldn't see where he was going anymore. The only person who had this much control over smoke and natural elements was no other than the demon, Krorglim. He couldn't be alive.

A powerful vampire killed that demon and there was simply no way to resurrect a dead one. The Kumri, the personal servants of Krorglim, joined him in obliteration. The boy's father told him so. Yet, that didn't explain why there were tall, humanoid figures bending fog and howling at the moonlight now chasing after him.

The boy looked back as he ran. No sign of the creatures for now. His leg slammed into a fallen keg he didn't see. He yelped as he was thrown forward. His face slammed into the hard, cobbled road, his palms barely stopping his fall. The tome flew out of his hands and landed with a splash on a nearby puddle. Cursed rain which fell the night before.

Fog reached out for him as he picked himself up and limped to retrieve the tome. It would dry but his life wouldn't be revived if he lost it. A Kumri shrieked and swiped at him from atop the houses. Long, slender arms swept past roofs and house walls.

Gods above.

Tears sprung to the boy's eyes as he ran despite his throbbing leg. Faster. He ducked as another hand swept for him. If he was already a trained vampire in the Chief's ranks, then he could have gotten himself out of this mess using at least five different ways. The Chief's men were equipped with the knowledge on how to fight the Kumri. A boy of thirteen wasn't.

He rolled to one side as a Kumri dropped to the ground and attempted to grab him again. Up close, they were terrifying to look at. Grotesque features twisted the flesh where the face was supposed to be. Hair covered their shoulders and their necks but the rest of them were bare. In the dark of night, their skin was pasty crimson. Teeth as long as the boy's arm flashed in the moonlight as the Kumri howled.

The boy scrambled back. His throat had already closed up in fear a long time ago. His mind blanked. What did he have to do with all of this?

The city was asleep and when vampires sleep, there's no waking them up until hibernation was over. There's no one who could help him. The Kumri howled and charged. A hand sped for the boy as he ran.

Thank the gods that the Kumri were as big in size as their brains were as small.

The back of the Kumri's hand slammed against the boy's back instead of the palm. Coarse skin pricked the boy's senses even after layers of clothes and cloaks. The force of the swipe sent him flying. He slammed and rolled against the wet pavement as he landed. Pain shot up his ankle. Gods. He's going to die here.

Overhead, the sky crackled. Then rain poured in a loud crash. Not good. Rain was the Kumri's source of strength. They thrive with the type of rain that fell in this part of the kingdom.

The Kumri howled as one. Hundreds of voices from different parts of the city roared in unison. The boy grunted as he tried picking himself up. His ankle burned. Come on. Run!

Three Kumri dropped and cracked the pavement in front of him. The boy turned to drag himself the other direction but another three closed in on him from there. Gods above.

What would his father do? What would his father do?

His father's dead! He wouldn't be able to do anything. He's...

A splayed hand sped for him. He took one step and cried out as pain shot out from his busted ankle. He fell to the ground in a painful schlop. His father would see him soon. A whimper escaped his lips as he clutched the book to his chest and closed his eyes.

There's no one to save me.

A crow pecked at a carrion of some animal. Mm. Meal times after a gruelling battle were always the best. Especially if the food were the bodies of those they conquered.

The birds were no longer slaves. Their days of sitting in adorned cages, singing pretty songs for their masters, were over. The islands would bow to the might of the crows once they have tasted what it's like to be caged, to be shot at for fun.

The crow had been more than happy to provide that experience to those who deserved it.

He tore a strip of flesh from his meal. It tasted like a bovine delight but not quite. He raked his talons against the flesh and cawed. His eyes flashed. What did his attendants bring him? He needed meat other than those blasted milkers. He ruffled his feathers and ducked his head. No use in wasting this fresh kill. Perhaps, his generals could finish this off for him.

He wiggled his digits and delighted at the blood caking his talons. The last time this happened, he and his men were in the Isle of the Mammals. My, what a fine feast Queen Hezade served him when their armies clashed. Bird stomachs had never felt so full that night.

This particular night, however, was the beginning of the crow's conquest to overthrow the most powerful King in Esana Talos. If they get past this city, they would have a direct way to King Shekel's fortress. Those boneless snakes wouldn't know what hit them once the crow was done.

This night would usher a new time under the birds' reign. It was the crow's birthright that would establish him as the supreme leader of the archipelago. He would build an empire, a sovereign. He would sit at the throne blessed by the gods, overlooking this glorious land as his own.

The crow ruffled his feathers and inclined his head to the sky. He cawed the loudest he can. Victorious and ruthless. His soldiers returned his call as they always did. The crow flapped his wings and rose to the air. The smell of ashes, blood, and death flavored his sense of smell as he flew.

Tonight was just the beginning.

The City of Hespers shone like the stars in the sky, alluding to its name. A giant boarded a trav on the way to Prison City where criminals like him belong.

At least that's what his guards told him. He had spent the last hour of his life being hustled from the scene of the crime towards the trav terminal and now inside one. What was his crime, one might ask?

Well, he trudged up to the Department of Funds and demanded they turn over headship to him. When they refused, he killed everyone with a timed explosion using corrosive chemicals. Oh, the smell of aqueprista had never been so glorious.

The trav stopped humming as the engines died. Two guards flanked him, both too big to be regular trolls. A synthetic mask covered their faces which gave him no access to their features. They prodded him with an electric baton, muttering at him to hurry up and step off the vehicle.

He had never been too happy to oblige.

Bare, white walls of Prison City greeted him as he shuffled past the security gates. Oh, how he longed to grace this famed city with his presence. The thrill of dreams coming through made him giddy.

Uniformed giants patrolled about. None gave him and his guards a second glance. Good. No one needed to remember his face. He was prodded towards a wall with a camera pointed at it. They were going to take his shot and post it everywhere. On the news, on the screens, even on the Virtua. Ah, he'd be famous! He couldn't wait for it.

His picture was taken and he was shuffled into a bare white corridor which housed the cells. Each one was also painted white with only the transparent glass door between its inhabitants and the corridor. Around him lounged all kinds of criminals, ranging from rogue trolls to thieving ogres. Totally not his kind.

The guards shoved him into an empty cell and slid the glass door shut. He tapped the glass and they ignored him. He sighed as he spied a chair at the corner of his cell.

It was a simple chair, one they would sell in stores. It was a good enough chair with armrests. He needed armrests if he was going to think. He strode towards it and ran his hands on the smooth, polyfiber surface. Good, good.

Gently, he eased himself onto the chair. A spare change of prison clothes lay on yet another corner but he wouldn't change. Not now. Not ever.

His rear found solace on the hard seat of the chair as he sat down. Mm. Comfy. Modern. Convenient. Good. He rested his elbows on the armrests and put his fingerpads against each other. He smiled.

Let the perfect crime begin.

A mermaid swam as fast as she could the moment she heard the news. Half-opened clams and barnacle-encrusted tools scattered in the water as she forgot her job. Flapping her tail, she surged from her perch without being dismissed by the division overseer.

The plague has reached her village. Snippets of the daily news bled in her ears as she swam. Fishes whizzed by her, muttering in their local languages she didn't care to understand.

Haste. She needed to make it home.

The plague was the worst thing that could happen to her family at that moment. It was a sickness that originated from the Abyssal Sea. It shouldn't have surprised her that it reached them here, at the depths of the Dark Sea. Her village's name throbbed in her head as she swam.

She had come to love that small, country village where she spent most of her life in. Her family, consisting of her grandmother, parents, and three siblings, were in there as well as her extended family with her cousins and their cousins' cousins. If the plague has reached them...

Jets of water trailed after her as she sped. She hummed a light tune to further propel her through the distance left. Other merfolk and sirens yelled at her as she burst in the middle of their daily activities. She gritted her teeth. Just they wait. When the plague spreads into this city, they would understand how she felt right now.

The plague was not like any other they lived through. Once it infected a person, there's no going back. The flesh shrivels, the trail dims, and in a day or two, they would all be sea foam. She wiped at the tears that threatened to fall.

Her family's alright. It's all going to be okay.

She burst through her village's gates and froze. Doors were thrown open and merfolk swam in frantic circles. Someone was screaming the plague is here! at least twenty times in a minute. The water turned murky from the amount of sea foam from sirens who already passed on.

Her house.

The mermaid threw her hips back and flapped her tail once again. Her house drew closer. The doors were closed. Was that a good thing? With shaking hands, she threw open the doors and paused. Her sibling, Aenar, raised his head from a handful of sea foam.

"Grandma," Aenar sniffed. "She..."

The mermaid's tears fell from her eyes in the form of pearls.

It's over. There's no stopping the plague from here.

A dwarf pressed her back against a stack of crates. Gunshots raged around her as the raid she planned went wrong in all the ways she imagined it would. The Bronzes wasn't an easy organization to beat unlike all the others she spent her time demolishing.

This particular gang was involved in trafficking and illegal arms dealing the dwarf wished to stop. Her father, the dwarven dictator, had no qualms about these issues happening in his own territory as he's only focused on developing arms and on his stupid secret project.

Everything else was up to her and she learned that at a young age when her mother passed away. She had taken more responsibilities as she grew older and now that she's thirty six, uprooting criminal organizations in Osa Elore would be added to the list.

Hence, she was now crouched behind stacked crates of probable illegal arms developed for trade with the other continents. Dwarven metal was already hard enough to contain as it always seemed to find its way across seas and races despite the ports' numerous regulations. They didn't need smuggled Dwarven technology added in the mix.

The dwarf yanked the barrel of her gun. Instantly, the mineric core hummed to life. Her men were stationed on the opposite stack of crates. On three.

One. Gunshots chipped pieces of the crates and rained on her head. She gritted her teeth.

Two. Voices shouted for reloads. Guns clicked shut. Silence.

Three.

Screaming, the dwarf burst from her hiding place and aimed her gun at the reported head of the gang. She clicked the trigger.

Nothing happened.

She clicked it again. The core sputtered as the mechanisms jammed. Oh, Divac's spooncakes. She really needed a new gun.

Growling, she drew her sword from her side and charged. Her men fanned out behind her, executing a perfect sweep of the place with their guns. The scent of blood filled the air as she slashed her sword around. She had trained everyday for this job and she would do everything she could to see it done.

She would make this continent a better place for everyone as she had vowed to her mother on the monarch's deathbed. As long as her father was on that throne, injustice would proliferate like pests on the sewers. Toppling gangs was just the first. She would do anything to change her father's government, even if it cost her everything. This simply couldn't continue.

She slammed her blade against the barrel of an enemy's gun. The metal crumbled under the weight of her forged sword. It's not just dwarven metal. It's something better. She kicked her attacker away. A growl escaped her throat.

Every day, someone suffered in her country and even when she had the social status to do something about it, she couldn't. Because she had no power; she had no authority. Her father would not leave the office which had fed his desires easily but she would make sure he would have no choice but to let go.

Justice would be served in Osa Elore. Soon.

She wandered around this new world with her head pounding and her eyes blurring. Strange contraptions that ran on its own sped by across painted roads. People dressed in ridiculous garments crowded the paved roads, walking briskly while talking to each other in an intelligible language. High up were strange castles plated with glass. Lights flashing on huge magical screens blinded her as she stumbled around.

Where was she? Why was she here? Moreover, who was she?

She racked her memory of where she might have come from. All she came up with was a blank slate. Wiped clean.

No. She needed to remember. She has to.

People jostled her as they muttered under their breaths. Hide. She needed to hide. She stepped into the road and a blaring sound speared through her ears. Lights were coming at her and fast. She fell to her knees. Her palms scratched the rough pavement. What was that...?

Something squeaked. It smelled like something was burning. Then, there was silence. A man with strange features stepped in front of her and began shouting in that strange language. She couldn't...

She stood up and ran. No one pursued her. Just what was this world? Why was she here? Why couldn't she remember? She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was to get out of here. Fast. Run.

A dark road came up. How did she end up in this place?

She was about to turn the other way when something caught her eye. Her eyebrows met. What was that, by those strange shiny bags? Why was it so foul here? She was called here. That's why she was here.

Like a thread pulling her in, she slowly walked towards the bunch of shiny bags. There were six tomes spilling from a punctured bag. She crouched and picked one despite the smell and the small creatures flitting about.

The front cover was written in strange letters. Strange? Or not. She translated the script perfectly. The Chronicles of Fantasilia. Fantasilia...

She flipped to the first page and read. It told a story about a girl. A fairy in a human town. A human town. Human. The word speared through her mind like blazing fire. Color exploded in what once a black wall in her memories. She was human. She was from this world. She was...

Erin. That's her name. She was a queen. A human queen. The girl in this story was no other than Xanthiene. The one who tricked her in that tower. The one...who she spent considerable time looking for. Xanthiene was the answer to her desires.

She looked behind her, into this strange world. World Beyond. She knew what it was called now. A laugh escaped through her lips. Amused, amazed, and bitter. She made it. She was in World Beyond. How would she even get back?

"Ah, fancy seeing you here, Erin Helgase," a voice made Erin turn to a figure dressed in the same ridiculous garments but a bit more frivolous than normal. The person lowered darkened spectacles, revealing eyes emptier than the space between worlds.

"Who are you?" Erin clutched the tome to her chest. She edged backwards. "How do you know my name?"

The person spread its hands. Erin couldn't tell their gender. "I know everything," they said. "Now, would you like to go back to Umazure?"

Erin narrowed her eyes. "You would help me?"

"For a price," the figure cocked their head to one side. "What do you say?"

Erin's insides curled. If she went back to Umazure, she could exact her vengeance on Xanthiene. She could retake her kingdom and rule supreme. She would be Erin again. "Yes," Erin raised her head to look at those fathomless void posing as eyes. "Let's go back."

The figure pushed their spectacles up their nose. A smile spread across their face, showing off lines of perfect teeth. "Excellent."

It's time for revenge.

The Empyrean stared at the air like it would tell them the future. Perhaps, perhaps not. It's all a matter of waiting at this point. Patience was a useful skill to develop in one's long lifespan.

Chuckling, the Empyrean ran a hand at their placid skin. The points were coming together to make a plane. A plane of possibilities comprised an entire sphere of victory. It's only a matter of time now. Circumstances aligned. Characters in this elaborate play moved according to their own desires. Never before had such timing presented itself.

The Empyrean blew a breath and clasped their hands together in a stance of contemplation. This was a new age, indeed. Civilization rose and fell. How long before this current one would follow the steps of their predecessors? How long before the Empyrean cause that degradation themselves?

It's only a matter of time.

The end was near. In fact, it was here.

The Empyrean stood up from the seat they spent a good three-hundred-and fifty-five years sitting on. A plan centuries in the making would soon come true. The gears they had long set would start spinning. It just needed a spark that would set the whole world ablaze in a wonderful blending of lights.

Burn. Burn. Burn. The Empyrean had never felt so...exuberant in a million years. This foolish world would soon crumble like the ones they had watched all those years ago. An end. Singular. Indefinite. There would come more ends as there really was no the end. Civilizations always rose and fell. Worlds did too.

This time, the Empyrean gazed at the air around them with fascination. This present world had so much potential but like all the others, it would slowly descend to ruin. Because of its own foolishness or maybe because the Empyrean wanted it to.

The Empyrean laughed to themselves. It was a passionate laugh. Something they haven't done in a long while.

The game has started. The players are all set. It's time to dance while watching the world burn.