Pain is boring, death is dreary, and violence fragments itself in memory so as not to overwhelm.

As such, only bits and pieces are recollected about the hours between when the specters begin knocking at Sunset Citadel's doors and when they all fall dead and discarded at their feet.

Jasper's first concrete memory relating to the whole ordeal is being handed a long knife as the group arms itself, an object he eyes with a high degree of suspicion. He has notably less experience with the real thing than the wooden stand-ins Kit had initially trained them with.

"What do you expect me to do with this?" he asks.

"Would you rather have nothing?" replies Tai.

Fair point. He keeps the knife.

—

Jasper's other most tangible memory, plucked from the chaos that ensues when a group of specters successfully scales the citadel walls, is the sound of blood. The splatter on his clothes, the gurgling as it's choked from the specters' wounds, the drip down to the ground from the garrison members' many nicks and cuts. The iteration closest to him though, is that of the blood rushing through his ears, a cruel hiss in time with his heartbeat.

Every now and again he's shielded from the growing rush of monsters up the citadel walls by a shimmering golden wall of his height and width. When he turns, he spots Zahara standing a few paces away with her arms out in concentration, clearly borrowing heavily from her own energy to form this protection for him.

A black bird swoops down to her at continual intervals to deliver bottles of Fallon's honey milk remedy, committed to helping her keep up her strength.

—

Fallon himself is cloistered away in the kitchen of the citadel, abusing every reserve of vitality he has to brew continuous batches of the salves from his leather-bound book. He's aided by the alchemist Nakoma, the physician Dalmar, and any others that are more skilled in the arena of concocting and healing than they are in Kit's lessons of weaponry and combat.

—

Out in the thick of violence, Edeline's arrows part the air. Kit's knife shines in brief intervals before it cuts downward to enter a specter's limbs. The gray swirl of sand moves from place to place and form to form, following Tai's beckoning and will.

—

Jasper doesn't know when Giada became so passionate about swinging an axe around, but she really puts her strength to use with it. Good for her, he supposes. It's likely a major contributing factor to why he isn't dead yet.

When a specter comes in close to Zahara, nearly catching her unawares, Giada is there in an instant. As she sinks steel into flesh, lit up by frantic ire, something changes for her. Her skin warms, her amber eyes take on dimensions of flashing crimson. A merciless red haze settles over her mind for just a moment.

It's only a sliver of time, briefest of brief, but enough to spark the word dragon in her head. Has she thoroughly explored the outer reaches of all that her gift entails, or is there more? She'd think about it properly if she had the time.

—

Specters outside the wall, on the wall, then past the wall. Beaten back by the soldiers, but not always fast enough.

At some point, it all blurs together in Jasper's mind, even as it happens before his very eyes.

—

For a complete recounting of the epic battle between Aedus Kade and the chimera, read a different book. An archivist like Giada would be happy to direct interested parties' attention to the wealth of poems, plays, and prose that cover the subject.

What's important here is that it ends with this: beast of a thousand names and tails as it is, the chimera cannot get over its confoundment with Aedus Kade. When it first crossed over into this world generations ago, there had been no objects like the gifts it gave. No twists in reality to brighten these people's dull existence, a deficit the chimera was only too happy to rectify with its strange presents and odd tricks. Beledon was boring, honestly. So it threw them the specters too.

When the Thirty-Colored Bird finally appears to drag it over to the man prophesied to overcome it, the chimera goes, curious despite itself. It wants to see this supposed hero. Who is he? And where did his elemental sword come from, if not the chimera itself?

The fact that Aedus Kade is trying to kill it is a minor caveat. It's sure everything will turn out as chaotically right as it's always wished.

But being faced with a question one cannot answer is debilitating, especially for a creature like the chimera: old as the darkness between stars. It's just that little bit enough to throw it off its equilibrium, for Aedus Kade's sword to finally come close enough to cut it down after long hours of cumbersome evading (It isn't easy to lug all those body parts around. Honestly, sometimes it's hellish to coordinate). As it comes into contact, the weapon flashes through all the elements it's become known for: fire, ice, the blue-and-white crackle of lightning.

Wounded and raging, the chimera beats a hasty retreat after its enemy's triumph, but it doesn't leave without a parting blow.

They don't want the chimera's influence? Fine, they won't have it.

With a swipe of one of its talons, it breaks them all.

The good and the bad.

The specters and the gifts.

One move and the lifeblood of the former and the purpose of the latter are drained away in tandem.

Which is all to say,

Jasper disappears.