The Demon's Light Wiki
(Created page with "{{Episode |episodeNumber = 7 |nextEpisode = ''TBA'' |partOfSeason = 2 |previousEpisode = ''The Less I Know the Better'' }}'''"Riding the Wave"''' is the seventh episode of...")
 
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The man pocketed the coins and pointed to his left. "Thank you. The inn's that way." He walked away without another word.
 
The man pocketed the coins and pointed to his left. "Thank you. The inn's that way." He walked away without another word.
   
The group saw a building with faintly visible signage reading "Nettlefold Inn." They proceeded into the lobby, where a few patrons sat around a fireplace or watched a small television. A child spun around with her toy airplane as her father read a newspaper. She appeared to be the only person in the room without a lethargic appearance. The attendant at the front desk was typing something as they approached. His nametag read "Gerald."
+
The group saw a building with faintly visible signage reading "Nettlefold Inn." They proceeded into the lobby, where a few patrons sat around a fireplace or watched a small television. A child spun around with her toy airplane as her father read a newspaper. She appeared to be the only person in the room without a lethargic appearance. The attendant at the front desk was typing something as they approached. His nametag read "[[Minor Characters#Gerald|Gerald]]."
   
 
Jordan warily walked up to the front desk, "Hello, sir. Well, a man with a switchblade threatened us about a curfew and demanded money. Do you know anything about this?"
 
Jordan warily walked up to the front desk, "Hello, sir. Well, a man with a switchblade threatened us about a curfew and demanded money. Do you know anything about this?"
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"What?" Lisa asked, shocked. "What do you mean? We should be ''glad'' that he did such?"
 
"What?" Lisa asked, shocked. "What do you mean? We should be ''glad'' that he did such?"
   
"They've done far worse to folks for less than being out late," Gerald lowered his voice. "The watch only exists so Lempo — he's the 'mayor,' although that term's too generous — could give his old buddies in the mafia a more legitimate name. You want my advice? Leave Crembraugh as soon as you can."
+
"They've done far worse to folks for less than being out late," Gerald lowered his voice. "The watch only exists so [[Minor Characters#Lempo|Lempo]] — he's the 'mayor,' although that term's too generous — could give his old buddies in the mafia a more legitimate name. You want my advice? Leave Crembraugh as soon as you can."
   
 
Savannah glanced at the group then back at Gerald. "Uhm, we kind of have something to do," she said, not offering any more information. "Do you have any available rooms that we can stay in?"
 
Savannah glanced at the group then back at Gerald. "Uhm, we kind of have something to do," she said, not offering any more information. "Do you have any available rooms that we can stay in?"
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With the officers dealt with, Savannah turned her attention to the man they had been protecting. Klaus Lempo covered in his seat.
 
With the officers dealt with, Savannah turned her attention to the man they had been protecting. Klaus Lempo covered in his seat.
   
“Please, Don’t kill me!” he begged. “I’ll disband the watch, I’ll force the Bratva out of the city!”
+
“Please, don’t kill me!” he begged. “I’ll disband the watch, I’ll force the Bratva out of the city!”
   
 
Savannah did not respond.
 
Savannah did not respond.
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== Epilogue ==
 
== Epilogue ==
   
Dasim entered the darkened conference room quietly, taking in the moonlight, tinted red through the curtained windows. At the head of the long table was a man in dark armor and a cloak, to his left a bald man in a maroon suit.
+
[[Minor Characters#Dasim|Dasim]] entered the darkened conference room quietly, taking in the moonlight, tinted red through the curtained windows. At the head of the long table was a man in dark armor and a cloak, to his left a bald man in a maroon suit.
   
"You wanted to see me, Lord Cicero?"
+
"You wanted to see me, Lord [[Cicero]]?"
   
"Sit down, comrade," responded the armored figure. As Dasim took a seat across from the other man, Cicero continued. "His name is Leonid Gryaz, and he is gainfully employed by the Bratva. He has come to inform us of the situation in Crembraugh."
+
"Sit down, comrade," responded the armored figure. As Dasim took a seat across from the other man, Cicero continued. "His name is Leonid Gryaz, and he is gainfully employed by the Bratva. He has come to inform us of the situation in Crembraugh."
   
 
"Aye," responded Gryaz. "Lempo has been sacked. A group of Thelsh, no more than three, killed all of our soldiers."
 
"Aye," responded Gryaz. "Lempo has been sacked. A group of Thelsh, no more than three, killed all of our soldiers."
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"The showcase of Ahriman, yes," Dasim said. "It would be impossible to forget."
 
"The showcase of Ahriman, yes," Dasim said. "It would be impossible to forget."
   
"He told you, 'I would begin the next battle with this in hand,' if my memory does not betray me," Cicero stared at Dasim through his helmet's visor. "This Thelsh woman summoned a flaming sword in the middle of a rainstorm from ''thin air'' and cut through an entire town's defenses."
+
"He told you, 'I would begin the next battle with this in hand,' if my memory does not betray me," Cicero stared at Dasim through his helmet's visor. "This Thelsh woman summoned a flaming sword in the middle of a rainstorm from ''thin air'' and cut through an entire town's defenses."
   
 
"Do you think this is how your father would make his return known?" Dasim was unimpressed. "I recall him specifying that he would use the sword after defeat in battle. The Powers' execution was not a battle, by any means."
 
"Do you think this is how your father would make his return known?" Dasim was unimpressed. "I recall him specifying that he would use the sword after defeat in battle. The Powers' execution was not a battle, by any means."

Revision as of 21:31, 8 June 2020

"Riding the Wave" is the seventh episode of Season Two and the twentieth episode of The Demon's Light.

Synopsis

The Port City Eight find refuge with old friends of Wen Li. The Search Party become involved with the affairs of a mafia-controlled town.

Narrative

Port City Eight

Blackmore rested his elbows against the bow of the ferry as he took a drag of his cigarette. Staring into the sunrise through the smoke, he contemplated what he had listened to in the night they departed. Guard duty, he had told them, but their conversation was just too enticing to depart from. Possessions. Dream Eaters. What a marvel to hear. Blackmore reflected on the individuals he had met. He would have liked to know Samuel Brownlee further.

"Enough of that." He snapped himself out of it. Aiola was now in sight, and with that, peace and quiet. Once the ferry docked, they would be near the city of Nirvana, a place famous due to its history with a group named Nirvanists, religious historians dedicated to documenting the world and its creation. From there, they would have an easy journey, with the Chang Monastery, a place where Li deemed it safe to rest due to his long history with the residents, located in the mountains next to the city.


The large red and white accented ferry docked. Stairs were let down for passengers to exit onto the boardwalk. The first off was Zade. He let in a deep breath, smelling the salty air before walking forward. He was followed by Blackmore, with Marshall toting the group's luggage behind him. Atticus, Blossom, Chris, and Li departed and met up with the rest of the group.

Noticeable as one exited, a large Halan junk — the Second Wind — was docked nearby.

"Well, we don't have Samuel anymore. Hopefully, we're not screwed without him." Chris commented.

Li took in the sights of the city. Years had passed between his last visit, but little had changed. "I'm sure we'll do fine without him."

"I'm sure Mr. Li will do fine guiding us through this, Chris," Marshall said.

"Come," Li hobbled forward to the front of the group. "Much awaits us."


The final wooden board creaked as Marshall made it to the top of the stairs. Lagging a bit behind the rest of the group, he had reached the small plateau where the monastery stood. In the distance, the city of Nirvana seemed incredibly small. Two large ornate gates were hinged upon a wall, with gold symbols decorating it. The monastery was octagonal with black shingle roofing lining the wall. The group stood on a small stone platform carved into the mountain thousands of years ago.

To the right of the gates was a rope attached to a bell. Li pulled on it. The gates opened, revealing two monks on the other side, as well as a tall, dark-skinned man. He wore a dark gi with specialized gold lettering and black shoulder pauldrons.

"Welcome back, Mr. Li," the man said. "And your guests?"

"Are Marisol and Robert in? I need to see them, Isaiah," Li rushed.

"Yes," the man, Isaiah, said. "Come in, but you will have to leave your weapons outside."

"Are you sure this place is safe, Mr. Li?" Blossom asked, reaching her hand into her brown jacket and pulling out a pair of knives and a gun. She slowly placed them on the ground in front of her.

Blackmore sighed. He opened his jacket, removing both a small switchblade and a long hunting knife, as well as one of his submachine guns. "Fascists."

With the group now unarmed, Isaiah led them inside. Within the tall walls, there were over one hundred monks, standing orderly and chanting. Behind them, a large temple with orange roofing and red and teal accents stood.

"Whoa," Marshall gasped.

"Nice place you've got here, Isaiah," Blackmore muttered.

"It is not mine, it is the Changs'," Isaiah explained. "However, I am the lead monk here."

"Where are the Changs right now?" Chris wondered. "We have some urgent business with them."

"They are in the meditation room, having tea. I'll take you to them," Isaiah answered.

He led them through the main courtyard and to the main temple. Sliding a shoji open, they entered and done a hallway made it to the room. Within, a Halan couple, both with long black hair, sat facing one another with a teapot and two cups between them.

"Hello, Wen. I see you brought some friends," The man, Robert, welcomed.

"Yes. Speaking of which, could you all leave the room?" Li asked, turning to face the group.

"I'll take them to the artifact room," Isaiah responded.

As they left the room, Atticus could hear a faint "we need your help" from Li.


The artifact room contained a great many objects of note, most displayed on pedestals with a small nameplate beneath them. An ancient golden sickle-sword covered in markings in an unfamiliar language bore the label "Great King Nzulk's Blade." Next to it was an open manuscript, its pages water-damaged and its cover dusty. Its nameplate read, "Codex Seventy-Five, 20 TP."

"I really hope we can stay here for more than a few days," Atticus said. "We've spent so much time going from place to place, one after another."

"I wouldn't bet on anything," replied Blackmore. He leaned against a tall podium. "If there's anything our road trip has taught me, it's to expect the worst."

"So, what do we do now?" Chris wondered.

"We just wait," Atticus replied as he pulled a large book off a shelf and began to open it.

...and the court of the gods found that Xeren had committed crimes so numerous and unforgivable that execution was deemed a necessity. Iblis, the giant who carried a scythe gifted by the Shephard of Souls, was to carry out the execution.

When the soul of Xeren was torn from his body, it split into two halves. Of the first, nothing is known. Of the second, a luminescent red sphere appeared in the skies of Euclid. It circled the world time and time again, never changing the speed or direction of its orbit.

Atticus paused at this line. A red sphere streaking across the sky — that sounded familiar. He had seen it twice before. Once in Thales, once in Muné.

If it were to be claimed, the soul could imbue its possessor with unimaginable control over reality itself, akin to that of a Power.

"Hey, Chris, Marshall?" Atticus began. "Do you remember that light we've seen a few times? The red one?"

"Of course we remember that!" Chris exclaimed. "I mean, how could we not? It was sure quite an unusual thing to see in the sky."

"Well, remember how Steven told us that were theories it was connected to some hidden leader? This book claims that it's the soul of the god, or well, Power Xeren and that he was killed by others like him."

"What's this about a light?" Zade asked as he walked over, holding his hiking stick tightly in his hands.

As Chris explained the conversation, Zade began to wince. "Ah yes, I've heard of this light before, back in the days where I still lived in Muné... ugh."

"Why do you guys care about this?" Marshall asked, finally breaking his silence. "We're not on vacation here, this is life-or-death. Why do we keep going on about this shit? The Dream Eaters, the red comet and all this other shit doesn't matter. Can we not take this seriously?"

No one responded before Marshall stomped out of the room.

Li departed from his meeting with the Changs in high spirits. He was almost to the artifact room when he spotted Marshall walking away from the room.

"What happened?" he asked. Marshall only shot a glare in his direction.

Concerned, the man entered the room and saw the group. As he approached, Li noticed something strange. From this angle, Atticus bore a striking resemblance to Gabriel. Atticus was younger, of course, but his face was eerily close and his eyes were the same light green.

"Mr. Li?" Blossom spoke up after noticing Li standing in the doorway. "What did they say?"

Li snapped out of his stupor and walked over to the group. "They said we can stay. We'll be going to our rooms soon."

Search Party

For the past several hours, Savannah had heard nothing besides the boat's motor and the crashing of waves. Rosington had provided the search party with a vessel to reach Aiola. Aaron had decided not to go with them, preferring to stay with his family in Silivia.

Savannah watched as the sun slowly sunk out of sight from the back. Towards the front, Dexter saw a beach coming into focus.

"We're not gonna reach Nirvana at this rate. Map says there's a town nearby, called Crehambraugh. How about we stay there for the night?" he asked the others.

"Have you even been there before?" Lisa asked. "I don't know if it would be a good idea for us to stop in unfamiliar places."

"Relax, it can't be that bad," Dexter showed his tablet, which displayed a map of Aiola. "Look, Nirvana and this town are both parts of Sampi." He tapped the screen, which changed the landscape view to one which showed the borders of each country. Each country was colored red, orange, yellow or green.

"You see that?" Dexter asked. "Sampi and its neighbors are all green, meaning little to Coalition and angel activity within its borders. This is one of the safest places to be."

"Clarify what the Coalition is," Charles told Dexter. "It rings a vague bell, but I don't know anything about it."

"The Coalition is an alliance connecting the demon army, Nuyovian governments and crime syndicates," Dexter explained. "They have a great reach, but we shouldn't have to worry too much until we get to Muné."


The boat docked at the beach as the sky began to grow dark. Lights shone from nearby buildings, but the beach was empty and lifeless. The passengers climbed out of the boat and proceeded over a bridge to the town. The town streets were much like the beach.

"Where is everyone? Do you think something happened?" Savannah asked as she looked around, looking for any form of life.

"It's getting dark, they're probably asleep." Florence adjusted his fedora and continued.

The party kept walking for a few more minutes until a light was abruptly shone on Dexter's face.

"What are you doing outside?" A vested, balding man asked. He held a flashlight in his right hand and a switchblade in his left. "Curfew started hours ago!"

"We're sorry about that, sir. We didn't know about any curfew, we're new to town." Jordan explained.

"I'm curious," the man started. "Are you tourists? Refugees? Just passing through?"

"We are passing through Crembraugh on the way to Nirvana," Charles replied.

The man scratched his beard. "Well, this ain't a big deal, and I have more important things to do," he looked to Dexter and Florence. "How about you gentlemen give me 40 gil? I won't snitch on you, you go on your way. Deal? I'll even show you to the nearest inn for an extra 20."

"Yeah. Sounds good," said Florence. He fumbled with his coat pocket and then his wallet, grabbing six thick coins for the man.

The man pocketed the coins and pointed to his left. "Thank you. The inn's that way." He walked away without another word.

The group saw a building with faintly visible signage reading "Nettlefold Inn." They proceeded into the lobby, where a few patrons sat around a fireplace or watched a small television. A child spun around with her toy airplane as her father read a newspaper. She appeared to be the only person in the room without a lethargic appearance. The attendant at the front desk was typing something as they approached. His nametag read "Gerald."

Jordan warily walked up to the front desk, "Hello, sir. Well, a man with a switchblade threatened us about a curfew and demanded money. Do you know anything about this?"

Gerald looked up from his computer. "He was probably part of the town watch," he sighed. "You must be new here. The curfew is real, and you best be glad he only demanded money."

"What?" Lisa asked, shocked. "What do you mean? We should be glad that he did such?"

"They've done far worse to folks for less than being out late," Gerald lowered his voice. "The watch only exists so Lempo — he's the 'mayor,' although that term's too generous — could give his old buddies in the mafia a more legitimate name. You want my advice? Leave Crembraugh as soon as you can."

Savannah glanced at the group then back at Gerald. "Uhm, we kind of have something to do," she said, not offering any more information. "Do you have any available rooms that we can stay in?"

"Fine," Gerald rolled his eyes. "How many rooms do you want?"

"Two," Dexter replied.

"That'll be—"

"Can I ask you something?"

"...Uh, yeah."

"How well armed is the town watch? Do they have ranged weapons? Firearms?"

"Not that I know of. The ones I've seen on patrol always have just knives or swords," Gerald seemed concerned. "Why do you ask?"

"I happen to have a bit of experience in dealing with the mob," Dexter said. "And none of them have a pistol, a Gauss gun or a combat android."

"Getting involved in this town's business would be stupid, Wellington," Lisa began. "We should just move on, we're not GU agents."

"You think the Union cares?" Gerald asked. "The town's been under Coalition control for over a decade. If they were going to help us, they would've done it already."

"Which is why I need to put a stop to this," Dexter said. "I'll go to Lempo and ask him to disband the watch and resign. If he tries to sic his thugs on me and Charles, we can handle them."


Charles and Dexter, fully armed and ready for a confrontation, made their way through the rainy streets to the building that matched the address they had been given. "This appears to be the right place," Charles said.

The duo made their way into the town hall. It was quite large and well maintained. Every surface seemed to have a slight shine to it from the lights streaming in outside. Men and women of various apparel walked about the foyer, usually in small groups of three to four. Dexter walked towards an elevator, Charles following.

Breaking from one of the groups, a tall dark-skinned man approached the two of them. Placing his hand on the elevator door, he grinned. "Do you have business here?"

"We plan to ask Mayor Lempo to resign from his position due to abuse of power, as well as ordering the immediate dissolution of the town watch," Charles explained.

"That's some good shit, dude," the man began to laugh. "We should have you tell jokes at our dinners. If anyone actually attempted to do that, they would be dead before this door even opens."

The man reached down into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

"My friend here," Dexter nervously eyed the knife. "Has some very strong opinions on the mayor. I, uh, only want to speak with him about some issues affecting the town."

"Indeed, we mean you no harm. There is no reason to resort to violence," Charles agreed, although he was preparing his knife in case there were any sudden movements.

"Oh, there won't be any violence," the man sneered. "And you won't be meeting with the mayor. He's a busy man, and today he has a full schedule."

Dexter began to back away. "Oh, I understand. We'll come back tomorrow."

When he assumed he was out of the man's earshot, Dexter whispered to Charles, "We're taking the stairs."

The android nodded.

"No, you aren't."

An obese, bearded man with scruffy dark brown hair, tan skin, and a white suit blocked the stairwell. He held a spiked bat in his hands.

"I thought you didn't want a fight," Dexter retrieved his pistol and took aim at the obese man.

A disheveled mobster entered behind the fat man, expertly twirling a bowie knife. "You thought wrong."

"We are armed as well, I wouldn't recommend that." Charles replied, emphasizing his own knife.

The thugs continued towards them, undeterred by Charles' warning. Dexter shot at the bearded gangster.

"Is this the best you can do?" The man chuckled. "I've got a vest on, fuckin' idiot." He charged at Dexter with the club.

"That does not mean knife-proof." Charles said, before taking his knife and cutting the attacker's cheek.

Dexter moved away from Charles and the bearded gangster. He pocketed the pistol and retrieved Aaron's coilgun from his pack. Setting the sights on the knife-twirler, he launched two projectiles at him.

The mobster dodged to the left, preparing to laugh at his assailants yet again, before a small round pellet shot through his sunglasses and into his eye. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The heavy man pushed the android down in rage.

A harsh impact of Charles being tossed onto the ground caught Dexter's attention. He fired several rounds at the batter, aiming for the head.

Charles stood up. His systems were still recovering from the attack, the combat functions especially impaired. The android's basic functions were still in adequate condition, however.

"Further hostiles on stairs," Charles noted. "I can only provide limited assistance for a few minutes. A full inspection or even repairs may be required upon our return to the Nettlefold Inn."

Dexter nodded. He began attempting to pick off the incoming gangsters on the stairs.

Behind the group, a loud gunshot could be heard. With all eyes turning, the man from earlier - the one that had stopped Dexter and Charles at the elevator - could be seen wielding a large gun.

"Stop this fucking lollygaggin' or I'll kill these bastards myself."


In the Nettlefold Inn lobby, Florence and Jordan were watching a procedural drama on television. Lisa and Savannah sat nearby. The lobby was almost barren, with only a few besides the four. Gerald remained at his desk. All of them exchanged few words as nervous thoughts about Dexter and Charles plagued them. Finally, Savannah spoke up.

"Do you think we're going to find them?" she asked. "We only know they near Headre weeks ago. They've probably left the area by now."

Jordan turned his head over to Savannah, "They've undoubtedly left. Hopefully we could find another lead, though."

"It's highly unlikely that we'll find another lead, they're probably keeping a low-profile," Lisa stated.

"Well, yeah," Savannah admitted. "But we know them better than anyone else. If they're going to be found, we're gonna be the ones who find them."

"Do we really know them?" Lisa asked. "The Atticus Jordan and I knew wouldn't fake his death for months and return as a terrorist insurgent. And you...only knew most of them for a day or so."

"Sorry for being optimistic," Savannah grumbled.

There was no response. A moment of quiet, no sound beyond the faint dialogue on the television. Then, the doors slammed open and a group of men and women, all armed with knives, swords or bats, flooded in. A patron screamed. Gerald ducked under his desk.

A man with a number of piercings marched up to the front desk, many of his compatriots following close behind. He saw Gerald beneath his desk. The attendant, unable to hide, rose from his hiding spot. His eyes were incredibly wide in fear.

"Hey, Gerry," the gangster said in a faux-friendly tone. "It's been quite some time since we last talked. How have you been?"

"Fine," Gerald stammered. "I've been fine."

"Great to hear, man," the gangster dropped his smile. "Someone who's plotting against the mayor happened to mention this inn. Do you know anything about this?"

"...No."

"Are you sure? You should know full-well what will happen if you lie to us, Gerry."

"I -- I -- Yes, I know about that. I tried to get him to stop but he wouldn't listen."

"Was it just him and a single companion, or were their others?"

Gerald's eyes darted over to the search party members still in the lobby. "There were others."

"That's all I needed to hear."

The mobsters turned their attention to Lisa, Savannah, Jordan and Florence, beginning to approach them.

Savannah looked at the men and her eyes widened. “Guys,” she whispered at the group. “We need to try and get out of here.”

"No shit," Lisa snapped, before turning her attention to the entrance of the inn. "Let's go, we only have a small amount of time before they get closer to us."

Not wasting time, she began to sprint across the room.

A mobster suddenly appeared in her path. "What's the rush for?" he asked. "We only want to ask a few questions."

Florence calmly stood up and reached into his jacket. A mechanical clicking was heard as he revealed a long, alabaster white revolver. "That's funny, I have a question too." He pointed it towards the group of mobsters. "Do you feel lucky, punks?"

The attackers in front of Florence tried to run out of his line of fire. Three fell in quick succession. An especially confident mobster attempted to strike Florence from behind with a bat. Florence turned around and shot him in the arm. The bat was dropped.

Jordan hid behind a chair. Once he was out of sight, he tried to slow his heavy breathing. His heart raced. Lisa and Savannah similarly took cover behind other furniture. Further shots rang out, more screams and bodies dropping to the ground with a heavy thud.

Then all the sounds abruptly stopped. Lisa peeked out of her hiding spot to see Florence slumped on the ground. A knife was stuck in his left leg. The mobster who had confronted Gerald had snatched the gun and pointed it at Florence's head.

With Florence incapacitated, the mobsters began to spread out, looking for other targets. A man with a long, steel sword noted movement behind a sofa chair in the corner of the room. Upon closer inspection, he found there was indeed someone hiding nearby: Savannah. The girl screamed as the attacker brought his sword down.

A clink of metal against metal. Savannah discovered she was holding a sword similar to the attacker's, although its blade was engulfed in flame. The mobster stepped back a bit. Savannah felt a sharp pain in her forehead. She winced.

What just happened? She remembered the strange occurrence at Manta, how Baptiste’s gun had suddenly appeared in her hand. More questions flooded her mind. How did I pull that off? Why did it happen again?

“Hey, over here!” The attacker yelled to his compatriots. “This one’s got a weapon!”

Unable to remain idle, Savannah swiftly slashed at the man’s left leg. He keeled over in pain, blood flowing from the wound. The other gangsters turned towards her and raised their weapons.

"Stay back!" Savannah said. She held out the sword in front of her.

The gangsters closed in on her. She raised the sword and slashed at the nearest one, wincing has blood splattered her clothes. She whirled around and attempted to cut a nearby gangster but the weight of the sword slowed her down. He grinned, seeing her struggle and raised his knife, cutting her down the arm. She cried out in pain and stabbed him. He fell, and Savannah turned around before she saw the blood pooling around his body.

Don't think about it, she thought, it was either you or him.

She slashed at two other gangsters, the sword becoming a bit more easier to wield. The weight, however, still slowed her down, and another gangster was able to cut her leg before she took them down.

Savannah struggled to stand as she faced latest attacker: a muscular woman whose sword bore numerous intricate engravings. She scowled at Savannah. The girl's greatest concern was the gangster's vest, which looked to be bulletproof.

The gangster tried to charge at her, hoping to deliver a killing blow while she still struggled to keep upright. Savannah dropped to her knees. The gangster only struck the empty air. The girl used the chance to swipe at her opponent, who failed to dodge. With much effort, Savannah was eventually able to get back on her feet.

The apparent leader of the mobsters took note, aiming Florence's revolver at the girl. As he prepared to shoot, the mobster was suddenly pushed to the ground. Florence retrieved his revolver from the leader and shot him in the stomach. Overwhelmed and leaderless, the mobsters began to retreat.

When they had all vacated the premises, Savannah walked over to Gerald's desk, which the man remained behind.

"It's safe now," Savannah said. "They're gone."

Gerald stood up again. "I'm -- I'm so sorry. They threatened my family and I had--"

"Can you tell me how to get to town hall?"

"...You can't be serious."


The sword sizzled, yet the flame continued to glow bright as Savannah ran through the rain. A few pedestrians were out walking. They kept their distance, presumably mistaking her for one of the mobsters. She had told Jordan and Lisa to stay behind as she went to assist Charles and Dexter.

When she finally reached town hall, she saw the foyer was empty. Savannah slowly walked over to the elevator. As she approached, she began to hear very faint noises. They were eventually recognizable as screams and gunfire. Charles and Dexter were still dealing with the mayor’s guards. Savannah hurried her pace.

She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. The doors closed and calming music played over the intercom. When the doors opened and Savannah stepped out, she discovered that the sounds were now coming from underneath her, presumably on the second floor. Worried, but not deterred, Savannah pressed onwards to the mayor’s office.

“Drop the weapon!”

The mayor’s two guards bore caps with “SECURITY” labels, armored vests and, most worrying, were armed with pistols. Savannah slashed at the arm of the one to her left. He dropped the weapon while the other prepared to open fire. Before he could, the pistol was abruptly removed from his hands. Savannah shot the man in the leg.

With the officers dealt with, Savannah turned her attention to the man they had been protecting. Klaus Lempo covered in his seat.

“Please, don’t kill me!” he begged. “I’ll disband the watch, I’ll force the Bratva out of the city!”

Savannah did not respond.

“I’ll resign!” Lempo continued to plead. “What else do you want? I’ll let the Union’s courts judge me! I’ll -- I’ll--”

Lempo stopped. The sword was lodged in his stomach. Savannah processed what she had just done.

As she did, her surroundings began to change. She was no longer inside of the mayor’s office, she was outside on a grassy field. The corpse of a being slain by the sword remained in front of her, but it was not Lempo. A massive beast with horns and hooves took his place. There was silence for a moment, then she began to hear cheering from behind her. She turned to see a great many beasts behind her, howling and chanting at her victory. The noise would die down after some time. Savannah looked in front of her, seeing four colored spheres manifest. The spheres expanded, and a different environment could be seen beneath each.

Then she was back in Lempo’s office. Police sirens blared in the distance.

Savannah collapsed.

Epilogue

Dasim entered the darkened conference room quietly, taking in the moonlight, tinted red through the curtained windows. At the head of the long table was a man in dark armor and a cloak, to his left a bald man in a maroon suit.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Cicero?"

"Sit down, comrade," responded the armored figure. As Dasim took a seat across from the other man, Cicero continued. "His name is Leonid Gryaz, and he is gainfully employed by the Bratva. He has come to inform us of the situation in Crembraugh."

"Aye," responded Gryaz. "Lempo has been sacked. A group of Thelsh, no more than three, killed all of our soldiers."

Cicero looked back to Dasim. "This brought something to my mind. Do you remember that story you told me when I was young, about my father?"

"The showcase of Ahriman, yes," Dasim said. "It would be impossible to forget."

"He told you, 'I would begin the next battle with this in hand,' if my memory does not betray me," Cicero stared at Dasim through his helmet's visor. "This Thelsh woman summoned a flaming sword in the middle of a rainstorm from thin air and cut through an entire town's defenses."

"Do you think this is how your father would make his return known?" Dasim was unimpressed. "I recall him specifying that he would use the sword after defeat in battle. The Powers' execution was not a battle, by any means."

"Do you think my father would be so naive as to not realize that the powers the be would punish him? He showed you the sword so that you may herald his return, general, and I think you're being faithless."

"With all due respect, Lord Cicero, I feel like you may be getting too excited about a false lead," Dasim paused, considering something. "Did you check the armory? If the sword is not a replica, it would no longer be in our possession."

"Ahriman vanished from its display case hours before Gryaz arrived. There was no evidence of an intrusion," Cicero looked Dasim straight in the eye. "That was my father. I have no doubts."

Episodes
Season One: Catching SmokeWhite RoomBare TreesOne Night in GladeaCeasefireHide & SeekThe HoundsReunionSaccharineIn Somnis VeritasCarpe DiemFormationPrimo VictoriaDon't Fear the Reaper
Season Two: Crumbling CastleRoaming KingSafe HavenMarked MapThe Less I Know the BetterRiding the WaveCenturies of DamnationHouse of the Rising SunThe MasterEverybody Plays the FoolLoyalty