FENRER

Lightning pierced through the clouds of furious black pitch. It reflected against the wyvern standard, the star splattered with blood rain against the forks. The topsails struggled against the might of the storm as the bell tolled out twice fold warnings. One, for the maelstrom. Another, for the lurking beast below. Tentacles of writhing teeth slipped through the waves as Wardens all around him shouted and aimed the golden harpoons at the Kraken.

The king of the Dark, Derelict Sea — Pyvansomiir's ancient enemy.

Rain dampened the shrouds leading up to the top, where archers lit up arrows with hopeless stars. "Loose!" a Warden in the crows nest ordered, and Fenrer found himself trapped in place as the waves turned red and lapped into the lower decks. Tentacles caught the arrows with deftness for its immense size, crushing the light with ease as the teeth spat out viscera. Fenrer leaned over the railing as one of the teeth detached to cut the stays, causing the masts to weaken and groan further. Fenrer dug his fingers into the wood when he followed the trajectory, and winced when it cut through the throat of another Warden with ease, a scythe against the weeds.

Bubbles popped in his lungs when it loomed closer, sending its longer tentacles straight into the keel. Fenrer went for his crescent blade, but found it gone. Quakes went through his knees when the boat crumbled and cracked. Suctions from the tentacles slid upwards, dragging the taint with its terrible touch as silver lilies withered before they could bloom. He jolted, then swung around when Adara called his name, distant, against a veil of screaming. Auroras twirled around her, but useless to act, the tentacles drove themselves deeper into the heart of the ship with a fiery tempest.

Consumed into the jaws of the watery abyss. It plumed throughout his lungs as he covered his mouth with no ability to gasp for air as he went down with the ship. This... this can't be happening. Auras flowed on the sunlit paths, bathed in muck. Deeper, until the sea swallowed all. Tendrils circled closer as he tried to hold his breath, bubbles slipped past his fingers and drained him of his life. Starlight released him into its final clutches, and his ability to swim faded along with it. Saltwater dug into his nostrils when he dared to lower his hands to try, slamming them back up at its ferocious teeth into his lungs when he had the audacity to breath.

"Before the sea swallows all... I beseech thee for thine oath!" a familiar, but at the same time, ghostly call threw out their arms to the surface — or his, though he found his voice failing him, lost in terrified silence. "Bring upon me the tangible dawn! Set loose the flames within my soul! Commit it to the pyre of mine name and forge me into the fury of the light!" Lightning forked underwater, and Fenrer choked on brine at the true girth of the kraken, a moving abyss of tentacles and teeth with a single, large red orb. It swung a toothy tentacle straight for his midsection, and he snapped his eyes closed at the screech of painful radiance.

His heart leaped before the rest of him as he lunged out of the mattress. He scrambled for anything to fight back both extremes. Hands against his midsection, he felt around for his own innards spilling out on his lap, but found only his bare skin. Morning sprinkles fell across the damp air with the call of the seagulls over the harbor. Sivaport. We're in Sivaport. He brought a shaky hand to wipe at his brow and nose. A groan escaped his lips when he tried to get out of bed, snapping his magick to life with his thumb and forefinger before twisting a tiny dial on the wick beside him. Heat runes lit up around the surface, and he sent the rest of his weary strength into the wick before closing it to preserve it from the ocean wind fluttering through the window.

He brought it with him to the dressers, slipping it onto the flat surface to wipe at his eyes, half-expecting Yuven Traye to burst through the door with his usual complaints. In expectation, he waited for him. It dragged on through moments, and Fenrer bit his tongue at Yuven's expression when he turned his back on him. I've got more pressing matters to worry about... He fixed his hair, setting the wolven in his braid once he twisted it around. The mark of his family — the Pyren's; the Stewards of Sungrove, desecrated in death. Footsteps sounded on the other side, and he whipped around in preparation for the slew of energy which came from a white-haired individual, but he frowned when the person on the other side knocked instead and revealed the soft, silver blooms.

Definitely... not Yuven. Knocking was above his Oathbound. Someone who crossed reality forgot doors and walls existed for everyone else. He put on his undershirt, gathering his leather armor. "Come in, Adara." Exhaustion ripped down his body, a drowning tempest when she slid through the opening and closed the door behind her, dressed and raring to go, and he was still full of bubbles. "I'm sorry for sleeping in." He flicked his braid out of his way and rolled out his shoulders to try and spread alertness through them. "We just need to present ourselves to King Reyn and then head to the Umbral Teleporter with the rest of the Warden contingent. I hope you slept well." Belt around his waist, he set the sheathes in place. Crescent blade and extra sword for non-Derelict enemies.

"No, and I'm guessing you didn't either." Adara leaned on the wall beside the door. "I was expecting Yuven to come barging into my room to complain about how I need to be up before the crack of dawn—"

I beseech thee for thine oath!

Light and dark clashed with viscous fury.

"—And then... it never happened." Adara smiled, but her aura sobbed. "It's... It's going to be weird not having him around. But hey, at least I don't have to listen to him." Her shoulders went into a half-hearted shrug as he latched on the final leather straps across his chest and leather gambeson. Phials of essence in the small sections, he counted each under his breath as she continued on, "Look, I know you two are in a rough spot."

He found himself unable to keep counting when Adara went quiet. "He chose not to come," he whispered and closed the caps of the essence holders, switching to his bracers to make sure his auric band remained visible with its burning flames against the surface of his skin. Outside the window, the dawn crawled its way over the shining horizon to spread flames across the foam which licked at the rocks of the harbor and piers. Boats slipped out into the rest of the gulf and around the natural rock formations which held the silos and purification systems. He let out a breath and prayed for its might on the fiery tails of Ivara, the Princess of Evenfall. "I'll talk to him when we get back, but I need some space. Come on." Everything clipped into place, he ushered her out of the chamber and down the stairs to the main floor of the Lodge. Auras fell upon his brow, and he rushed out of their reach and into the sunlight of the city. Laundry lines connected some buildings as they walked through the cobbled streets, where stone foundations raised homes with basement openings in case of tsunamis.

Steam sizzled off of pans in the marketplace, but he fought to stifle the energy in his eyes at the raucous shouts of Hanekan and playful arguments outside of the Tipsy Dragon. Adara's hand wound around his forearm, and he hooked her closer to shamble past unpowered lamps on the corners of streets. On the first half of the cliffs, Sivaport castle with its rough limestone walls, with the lighthouse at its center, rising high over the city to cast its beacon over the sea to guide wayward ships to safety. Pebbles cracked underneath his heel. Ice threw him over the edge as he scrambled for something to hold onto. Focus. Let the auras slip past- He winced at a sharpened whip against his temples as two individuals argued from their windows. Let the auras slip past onto the river under the echoing branch, into the scales of Pyvansomiir to shift through the silt. Over every shrine, Pyvansomiir held knowledge within his jaws and his pupils slits of swirling depths. Overloaded in the truest sight... close it off. Fenrer shut himself from the world, and clogged up the rivers of thought and emotion. Let it rest.

"Fen?" Adara asked at his side as they reached the first gatehouse into the castle's outer ring. Bells rang out from the harbor once more, though a housecarl whistled something and the gates lowered to let them and the Wardens of their contingent inside. "Are you okay?"

Fenrer pushed his knuckle into his brow as they were escorted into the castle proper. "Just... things acting up..." Over the boundary of black stone, he faltered at the puddles of ooze, shimmering underneath the fresh stones at his heel. It drip-dropped through his ears as he followed the sound into a darkened corridor which forked off. On his knees, much to the wiggly confusion of Adara, he pushed his hand into the ooze. It skittered away from his touch, trying to hide itself in the brickwork, but the taste of rust salted the back of his tongue. A taste he knew only second-hand, but a formidable memory and his Oathbound's constant grievances. I... don't remember this... what is that? Very old blood... following a constant trail... Fenrer tried to focus, but he winced when a whip of pain pierced his skull, and he bounced back to his feet to shake it out. Into Adara's steady hand when she pressed it against his back and it sent an aurora into the sharp whips cracking against his temples.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know," Fenrer said and bit down on a spike of frustration which came from everywhere at once, though when he sorted through the people around them, he only tasted worry and the shaky pressure of concern squished into his ribcage and made it all the harder to breathe and formed bubbles in his lungs. "Thought I saw something, but we have more pressing matters to attend to. We need to get to Azahama early so the Elder Conclave can't think of making this harder than it already is on you. We can even get some more training in before then." He forced himself to smile at her, for kindness always prevailed and Yuven's sharpened tone sliced it in half when Adara's aura trembled with concern and terror both. "It'll be okay." It has to be okay.

I have faith.

"I could use some more help with the fireward. I have the basic concept down when it comes to the glyph shape, but I need to extend it further." Adara tucked her nose into her crimson shawl which rarely left her side. Warm with a Mother's love and sacrifice. Around his own shoulders while he laid across the snow, it echoed out the lilies closer to his face and caressed his cheeks with every soft breath of hers. "It'll be okay, like you said. I just need to stop thinking too much about what hasn't even happened yet..."

It will. It must.

"Fenrer Pyren?" one of Reyn's housecarls slipped through the crack in the throne room door. "His Grace will receive you now." In front of them, the man raised his hands and threw glyphs into the carved locks latched onto the wood. It creaked further to reveal the throne room of power and magnificence. Silver tendrils wrapped around the scorch marks on the floor, wrapping around the pillars and cutting through old images. Thick standards unfurled down the walls as sunlight pierced over the crown of the statue of his vaunted ancestor. A throne of black iron melted at its sharpest points, slipping through the jaws of a dragon, but no one sat upon it.

Fenrer stiffened at the sight of Reyn and a black-cloaked individual, but when he stepped through the veil of light, it revealed Keeper Kalla's auburn hair as she nodded, attentive to her chosen king's words. Both went quiet at his and Adara's approach. "Fenrer," Reyn said with a smile, and he frowned at Reyn's leather fit meant for traveling and his gleaming sword with runic loaders around the guard. His dragon tooth pins hung off each of his small braids which bounced against his cheeks when he nodded. "Good to see you and yours made the journey over the sea well enough."

"Going somewhere?"

"Azahama."

Wait, what? "Why?" Fenrer checked on Keeper Kalla and swallowed frustration when her eyes swept over him in thought.

"I'm taking it as an opportunity to discuss something rather important with Hirishi, nothing you need to concern yourself with. Matters of state between us, making sure trade routes are clear, that sort of thing," Reyn explained and adjusted the course, gray fur hems of his armor. "I think I should warn you though... Many are going to want to bear witness to the return of the Anima." He nodded at Adara, who bit on her lip and shivered. "It'll also give me a chance to open a dialogue with you about Sungrove."

"What—?" Fenrer frowned. "Reyn, I... I'm a Storm Warden."

"I'm aware." Reyn handed a scroll over to Keeper Kalla, who took it with a bow. "I have no intention of swiping you away from your solemn duty, but as the only son of the late Lord Soren—" His breath stuttered and the young, fearful boy returned in an instant. "I need to have that conversation with you now that I've managed to gain the trust of your family's county folk, I told you once... they will listen to a Pyren, not a Kolis." Reyn looked between them. "And there's something else. Do you think you're ready to take upon your ancestral sword?"

"I... I don't know," Fenrer forced out his weakness and clenched his fingers closer to his palm. "Why?"

"His Grace is worried about another fire," Keeper Kalla stated for Reyn, who bowed his head low. "It was about a moon or so ago. We've kept it in a heavily warded place by Mikean's forge for safekeeping until a Pyren came to collect it... color our surprise and the chagrin of our forgemaster when that entire wing was set ablaze in a night." Her plain statement made him choke, but she continued on, "At first, we checked all over for haphazard magicks, or the forge itself. We were forced to come to the conclusion that the latent flow within the dawnblade exploded in reaction to something."

"It what?" Fenrer took a step closer to Reyn. "You mean like... its power slipped through?"

"No, Fenrer... it almost blew out the entire side of the castle, our stonemasons have done some repairs, but it's going to take some time to replace what we cannot fix. Another reason why I am going to Azahama, I'm going to peruse the Convocation library for stronger wards," Reyn explained. "I have borne witness to its power before, when I saw the damage for myself, I knew what it was." He raised a hand, then headed for the long table to the side to wrap his arms around a wrapped longsword, whose hilt gleamed with embers within the amber gemstone. "Even with all our wards, all our protections and suppression locks... whatever happened woke it for but a moment." He adjusted his grip and held it horizontal at his side, the grip to Fenrer. "I will not force you to take it if you're not ready, but it's clear that we're not equipped to contain its magick as Pyren's tomb was built for."

"I..." Fenrer drew his hand against his chest and the weight of his curse lowered on his brow.

"I shall remind you that the ancestral sword rejects all who are not a Pyren," Keeper Kalla pointed out. "It is a powerful magick blade and can easily fall into the wrong hands. Best that it is with whom it shall respond, and that would be you, Pyren. You may not be ready and feel like you never will be, but do you think all those before you were?"

Fenrer eyed her. "You'll excuse me for taking your words at face value, Keeper Kalla."

Keeper Kalla raised an eyebrow. "'Tis not my words, it is the truth. I helped find that blade in the lowest depths when others thought to remove it, bury it with its history. I would much prefer to not go on a wild goose chase again," she remarked, unfazed, though he refused to trust those who wore a black cloak and touted an Ancient's precious philosophy and spat on its meaning with ease. "I've done my cursory studies on it, so I advise it is at least placed somewhere on Euros, near you."

But I'm not ready.

"We never are, Little Wolf," Kon growled in his ear.

"How much damage... what made it react?" Fenrer took a step for the two, and Adara followed in his shadow.

"We don't know," Reyn replied with a heavy frown. "Just that it did. Mikean had to throw it into his forge for a spell until it was no longer on fire — good news is, his runes will not need to be refreshed for a very long time." His smile withered on his worn features and he held the blade out, and Adara hovered at his shoulder with a twinge of curiosity for the mystical, the magical. "It is yours by birthright. It does not belong here in the place which called for the murder of its carriers."

Heat wrapped around his fingers when he clutched the hilt. Inside the gemstone, embers bloomed outwards when he tugged it out of the sheathe with a sliced hiss. Adara gasped with the lilies to greet the dawn. Waves bounced across the fuller to the shining tip. Keeper Kalla stood off to the side with her arms folded, a small book in her hands, its pages thick. Fenrer pushed his hand against the sharpened blade, gliding over the flat surface to feel the runes embedded in the fuller. Each one a sun which grew into a final piercing light at the guard. He held his hand out for the scabbard, which Reyn unfurled from the tough wrap. Wolven teeth carved into the locket, and Fenrer sheathed it until it clicked into place. Its aura glowed with warmth of both soft hearths and powerful infernos, but within the safety of its scabbard it doused in full. On his hip, it weighed heavier than his crescent blade.

Fenrer released the tension in his lungs. "If you're going to Azahama... I suppose we'll go to the Umbral Gate together."

In the mire and plague of Yuven's soul, he held up the sun in his hands and beseeched it to forge him anew to combat the crimson corruption. It hissed out steam when he drove it between his ribcage, straight into his heart as he slammed the runic expanders together and sunbeams tore through the vines.

Yuven gazed at him not in disapproval, but in a sense of uneasy confirmation of something unspoken.

Yuv... what are you trying to figure out about my magick? You... weren't trying to prove my own mental incapability, you weren't trying to tell me I was a bad teacher... Fenrer choked at the realization and his own stupidity. You were looking for something — and I snapped at you.

In a moment, he wanted to reach through the world flow and tug Yuven through his spatial distortion to ask all the questions he avoided.