Young Writers Society

Chapter 15: Recovery

Hilda wakes up, finding herself back in the infirmary at Valarheim. She’s been placed onto one of the various soft beds laid about, isolated behind closed red curtains and with several warm sheets covering her. There isn’t a single part of her body and face that isn’t covered in bandages, while her left arm has been wrapped in a splint.

Hilda tries standing up but the jolting pain she feels ends that idea very quickly. Her legs are sore as no one’s business, her left arm and shoulder are very numb and tingly, while her right feels like it’s been squished under a rock. Her chest hurts with every breath, her back is as stiff as a tree trunk and her head might as well be torn in half from the pain she feels across every centimeter of it. Grimacing, she is quite sure staying in bed is the thing to do.

She can’t anyone moving nearby but the light that fills the room shows that at least few hours have passed since the enclave.

“Hey, is anyone there?” she calls out.

“You’ve finally awakened, hm?” Owen’s easily recognizable voice comes from the bed across from Hilda’s.

From the right of her, Paula also speaks up: “We were wondering how much longer you’d be sleeping for.”

Hilda breathes in deep, relieved to see that everyone made it back alive. “What time is it? How are you guys doing?”

“It’s around two in the afternoon,” Owen answers, sounding tired but relaxed. “As for me, I’d wager I’m in the same state as you.”

“Hurting all over, looking like a mummy?”

Owen answers with a pained chuckle. “Haha-rrgh… Quite. Even a slight laugh hurts terribly.”

“I am not hurting per se, only completely drained,” says Paula. “So, Dr. Matu wanted me to stay here for a day so he can watch over me.”

“And I bet you’re going crazy, not having any work to do, heh-gck…!” Hilda quips before another jolt of pain runs across her body, her grin contorting into a strained frown. Owen wasn’t joking.

Paula sighs heavily in response. “I wasn’t, until you brought it up… Goes to show how tired I’ve been.”

Indeed, Hilda could imagine. Remembering Paula’s ritual in Bathurst, she still has no idea what happened. Biting her lip, she doesn't want to prod her friend for answers... but, at the same time, she's worried about what she did. The latter quickly overpowers the former.

“On that subject, Paula… I didn’t have time to ask before but what kind of spell did you cast back there?” she asks.

“I am curious as well. By rights, none of us should be capable of casting a tier two glyph yet; to say nothing of the fact that spells aren’t supposed to tire the caster so,” Owen also speaks up, his voice bearing a clear undertone of concern.

In contrast, Paula’s slow answer bears much hesitation. “Um… I’d like to tell you – truly – but I cannot…”

“While we can’t simply ignore this if it’d put your life at risk,” Owen answers firmly. Hilda can’t see him through the curtains but she’s certain he’s got his critical eyes on. Might as well back him up and see if he gets through.

“He’s right,” she adds. “Can’t you just give us something so we can stop worrying?

Silence fills the infirmary, and Hilda can already picture the Paula’s lips puckering as she ponders what answer to give.

At length, she answers. “I can’t tell you much but… there really isn’t anything to worry. I’ve received some unique training to do this.”

“Hmm…” Hilda ponders, “When we met, you said the reason you were a Scion at fourteen is because you’re a ‘special case’. Is this what you meant?”

“Yes but—”

Paula’s interrupted when the door to the infirmary is pushed open with a loud thud.

“I believe that is quite enough, Madam Paula,” says a deep, impassive male voice.

“Oui, oui. You do know wot ‘appens to zose who break ze rules, hm?” a woman adds, her mellow voice bearing a heavy French accent. Very weird, considering Scions shouldn’t have those when talking with other Prana users.

Hilda can hear Paula’s slight groan as the two people walk towards her bed and pull the curtains open.

"Amit, Josette..." she greets as a dark cloud descends upon her gaze.

“We were informed that you had awakened not too long ago, so we elected to visit our comrade,” Amit says. “…Looking at your sorry state following a single spell, however, I see that you still have quite the long way ahead of you.”

Amit’s flowery way of speaking surprises Hilda, especially considering the ice-cold tone of his voice. But it is Josette that’s keeping her on edge the most.

“But, of course, zat is normal for a petite Scion like you. And speaking of petite Scions…” Josette scoffs before grabbing the curtain of Hilda’s bed and pulling it open as well. “Hello zere, Hilda. We ‘ave ‘eard much of you.”

A chill runs down Hilda’s spine once more as she stares back at Josette. Just as Owen had done way back when, she can feel the frenchwoman’s gaze sizing her up. Unlike him, however, Josette looks at her like a hunter would his prey. Still, Hilda clears her throat and does her best appear at ease.

“And we’ve heard of you. Josette André and Amit Thakral, yeah?” she answers.

“Indeed. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam,” Amit greets her and even does a slight bow with his head. Hilda has a hard time believing his words, considering the guy’s tone – there isn’t a single hint of friendliness in there. Is he joking or something?

She decides to ask about it: “Do you—”

“Really mean zat? Hee, hee, hee, hee…” Josette repeats Hilda’s words before she even says them in full, punctuating it all with a laugh just as unsettling as the grin on her pink lips.

“I assure you I am being honest, madam,” Amit bows his head once more.

Hilda’s brow frowns in confusion, unable to make sense of this guy. Or maybe she could, were Josette not standing so close to her.

Thankfully, Owen uses his chakrams to open the curtains and draws their attention. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. I trust your parts of Bathurst were uneventful?”

“Quite, sir. Neither of us sensed the distortions from the pylon; by the time we arrived in your designated region, the enemies were already dispatched,” Amit reports.

“Huh… You did the same ritual as Paula?” Hilda asks, propping her face onto her right hand. “Then—”

“'Ow are you two up and about?” Josette anticipates her words once more. “As gauche as ‘e may be, Amit was right in ‘is évaluation. Paula is quite ze amateur, which is why she could not endure ze spell.”

Paula’s pained countenance crumples up further with Josette’s words – a sharp difference from her usual demeanor. Hilda’s only ever seen her positive, so watching these two get her down like this quickly annoys her.

“Alright, I don’t know what your problem is but the three of us need to rest,” Hilda says as firmly as she can while covered in injuries. “You’ve done your visit, so could you run along?”

Amit does not seem to care, looking past Hilda like she’s not even there. Josette, however, inches closer and sits on the chair beside her bed.

Propping her chin onto her hand, she looks deep into Hilda’s eyes. “Hmhmm… Your heartbeat and breathing have increased. You keep a plain visage, but your contracted pupil and ze veins on your temple and neck also say you are quite angry. You care deeply for your friends, non? ‘Ow much would you be willing to endure for zem, I wonder…?”

“Josette…!” Paula calls out to her in a very warning tone.

“Calmez-vous… She is too feeble to make for an entertaining piece anyway,” she answers with a huff.

Amit, then, steps closer and places his hand on Josette’s shoulder. “Regardless, it is true that we cannot afford to spend any more time here. Lord Julius will leave if we do not make haste.”

“Oh, Amit, ever so serious…” she sighs, meeting his stony face with a relaxed smile. “But you are right – we would not want him to ‘ave all the fun by ‘imself.”

Hilda, Owen and Paula glare at the two Scions as they get up and head to the door, as nonchalant as when they came in.

“Au revoir, bébés.” Josette waves them a “friendly” goodbye.

As he leaves, Amit takes the time to bow to them one last time. A tangible silence falls upon the infirmary, Owen and Hilda looking at each other with wariness. These are some of their fellow Scions? Jarring, indeed.

Paula seems off in her own world, staring at her bedsheets with a deep frown in her face. It seems to Hilda that her confidence wavers when dealing with those two.

As Paula had previously done to her, Hilda attempts to get her to talk it out her system. Considering what just happened, she also wants to address the elephant in the room: “So, Paula… what the hell is wrong with those two?”

“It’s complicated…” Paula sighs deeply. “But their personalities aside, they are very strong Novitiates.”

“They also performed the same spell as you, yes?” Owen asks.

“Hm. Though, as you can see by the contrast between us, they did it far better than me.”

“Hey, chin up,” Hilda waves her hand towards to get her attention. “Maybe you’re not as strong as they are but you’re still awesome.”

“Indeed. Your strength and skill are worthy of praise,” Owen adds.

Paula answers them with a huffed laugh before shaking her head. “Thank you for saying that but… I may only compare myself to them. And I’m found wanting. If I cannot turn that around, then I’m undeserving…”

“Of?” Hilda asks her, worried.

Paula stays quiet, lying back on her bed. She runs her hands over her eyes but her displeasure is evident in her pursed lips.

Owen notices this as well and decides to get her mind off whatever is bothering her so. “Ah… One thing that struck me as curious: why does Josette have that accent? The only way the flow of Prana would have passed her speech along like that is if she willed it so.”

“Well… Like I said, it’s complicated,” Paula sniffles quickly before clearing her throat and raising her head. “Josette enjoys toying with people, you see. She could speak without any accent but having it throws people off balance and lets her have the upper hand at the start of a conversation.”

“Why…?” Owen asks in confusion.

“Does the word ‘psychopath’ mean anything to you?”

Hilda’s jaw loosens up slightly at this, staring back at Paula with a baffled expression. “You’re joking, right?”

“I wish I was… but that is not my story to tell; I haven’t the time to do so, either,” Paula answers with a resigned shrug before pushing her bedsheets away and standing up.

“What exactly are you doing?” Owen quickly protests. “Didn’t Dr. Matu tell you to stay here for the day?”

“Yeah, you’re tired as hell, aren’t you?” Hilda adds. She attempts to leave the bed after Paula but the pain is far too great to allow that. She’s in no position to stop her and Paula gestures for her to keep lying down.

“I’ve rested enough; plus, I couldn’t bear to simply sit here now. Dr. Matu will have to understand.”

It takes Hilda a quick glance of Paula’s eyes to see where she’s coming from. “…Those two really got to you, didn’t they?”

“Am I that transparent?” Paula asks, her eyebrows raising with slight amusement.

“‘I know all too well the annoyance of being the weaker part of a team’, hm?” Hilda repeats to her in a whisper, making sure Owen doesn’t hear it. “Please don’t go crazy with your training – at least for today.”

“Heh, I’ll try… But, regardless, thank you for the support,” Paula moves over to Hilda’s bed and gives her a gentle hug. “Get better quickly, you two. I’ll come visit later.”

Owen raises his hand to try and tell her to wait but Paula dashes out the open window before he has a chance to do so.

“Forget it,” Hilda says with a knowing smirk. “You’re not going to talk her down.”

“You seem very certain…”

Hilda falls back onto the large pillows at her back. “Call it an educated guess.”

Owen relaxes as well, exhaling deeply and taking a long glance at her. Eyes closed, Hilda seems about ready to fall asleep again. Understandable, considering the difficulty of the previous battle – he, himself, feels as though every single centimeter of his body has been broken. Perhaps he’s not quite as hardy as he thought. Actually… that’s not the only problem with him.

Owen starts chuckling to himself, attracting Hilda’s attention once more.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, eyes half-closed.

“I’ve just been struck by the realization that I’m a fool,” Owen huffs.

Hilda laughs faintly in return. “Oh? It took you that long to notice?”

“Indeed… Forgive me, Hilda.”

"...Sorry, I think I misheard that," she says, mouth agape, cleaning up her ears with her fingers. "Can you run that by me again?"

“You heard what I said. I’ve made a tremendous error with you and, for that, I apologize deeply,” Owen says, punctuating it all with a strained bow of his head. “After all I learned from my father in the art of combat, I’d grown to think my judgment to be flawless. ‘This girl is weak, untrained. She is too afraid. She is a liability,’ I told myself…”

“Well, you weren’t exactly wrong with that,” Hilda argues.

“Perhaps but I should not have dismissed you on those grounds. Despite your flaws and difficulties, you’ve stayed your course, gained strength and always shown such devotion towards others. That marks you as a true warrior. I would not have survived that Risen without your support and your boldness.”

“What about me, then? You saved me a bunch of times there and… even passed on my solution to the Risen problem when it was clearly the safer option. I’m sure everyone would’ve said you were justified, had you taken it.”

Owen scoffs slightly at this. “I confess I considered it but… ultimately, I decided that accepting to perform such a sacrifice would’ve made me unworthy of it. As I beheld your spirit, I could not bring myself to allow your life to be cut short – much less for my benefit.”

“And, so, you decided to roll the die and hope we’d both make it out in one piece… Sure you’re not the bold one in here?” Hilda crosses her arms and gives him a sassy smirk. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, of course.”

“Hah, maybe it was your influence at work… But if I may, indeed, be so bold, could I ask for us to start anew?”

“Consider it done,” she nods happily before sitting up straight and saluting him. “Hey, there. I’m Hilda Solberg, Novitiate of Orlen. I’ll be your partner starting today.”

Owen lets out a quick chuckle before also rising and answering her gesture in kind. “Owen Kendrick, Novitiate of Taserus. It’s a pleasure to be working with you… Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really shouldn’t have moved so…!”

“I know; it hurts so bad…!” Hilda groans. Despite their crumpled faces due to the pain of their yet to be fully healed wounds, both Scions still laugh faintly.

It takes a few minutes for it all to subside but, eventually, they’re feeling at ease once again – even more so than before, actually. Now, there’s the relief of finally managing to see eye-to-eye. Neither of them expected such an event to crop up from a supposedly average patrol assignment. Despite how difficult it turned out to be, both Scions feel the same way: this closure makes it all worth it.

At length, as he ponders what’s happened, one matter comes to Owen’s attention. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“I’ve nothing else to go, so fire away,” Hilda answers with a shrug.

He looks firmly at her, calm but focused. “There’s something you said before, when you were attempting your suicidal maneuver… ‘If only one of us will make it through, then you’re the better choice by far’. What made you say that?”

Hilda smiles and waves her hand in dismissal. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I was just saying whatever, trying to get you to go with it.”

“Hm. I’d like to think that it was no more than that but… While my judgment may have been askew before, I still consider myself to be a fine read of people. Your eyes, at that moment, did not seem like those of someone who was simply ‘saying whatever’.”

Hilda’s smile quickly fades as her jaw and lips tense up.

Owen notices this and decides to continue – carefully. “I’d prefer to disregard this matter but I cannot. Thus, I’ll simply ask… From where I stood, I momentarily saw someone who seemingly felt like her life was paltry. Was I imagining things, Hilda?”

A far deeper silence than before fills the infirmary, quiet enough that, despite the distance between their beds, they can hear each other breathing. And hers is getting heavier and sharper. Owen keeps his gaze set on Hilda, concerned, but she doesn’t answer back in any way. They look at each other for a minute, though it feels like an eternity. Eventually, Hilda relaxes ever-so-slightly as she exhales deeply.

Her face contorts with a sad frown as she answers. “Owen, I… I can’t—”

Their conversation is interrupted as the doors to the infirmary are kicked wide open.

“Oh, my sweet children…!” Vanessa cries out as she rushes in and gives Owen a tight hug.

He loudly groans through gritted teeth as she pulls him closer. “Uurgh… L-Lady Vanessa, my wounds…!”

She doesn’t listen, dashing across the room with a gust of wind to hug Hilda as well. Her groan is just as pronounced.

“I’m so, so sorry for what I put you two through back there! I swear I wanted to help you but we need to push the Novitiates to learn self-reliance… God, I feel awful!” Vanessa sobs, switching back and forth between the dazed Novitiates.

Ryouma, by the door, puts on a sympathetic smile and tries to ease her worries. “Dear, you always feel this way but no one ever holds any ill will towards you… I’m certain they’re no different,”

“But look at how hurt they are, Ryouma! I should’ve just killed the Risen and stopped the whole thing…” Vanessa moans, pacing across the room and rubbing the sides of her head.

Slumping back onto her pillows, dizzy from the painful hug, Hilda speaks up. “No, no, Vanessa… Like he said, it’s all good… We’re alive and we’ll pull through, right, Owen?”

“Y-yes, quite… We can see the necessity of what you did. Furthermore, that trial strengthened the ties between us,” Owen adds, with a stunned look on his face. “So, please, do not beat yourself over it…”

"Really...?" Vanessa asks, drying the tears that form on her green eyes. Hilda and Owen quickly nod in confirmation, hoping to calm her down before she tries hugging them again. At the very least Hilda is glad to see her back to her usual self. Seems like, on the battlefield, 'Nice Vanessa' checks out and is replaced by "Vanessa, the Genoese Gale". Not that that makes her any less of a great role model but Hilda certainly prefers the first.

Ryouma walks over and places his hand on her shoulder, meeting her gaze with peaceful eyes. “Do you see? Children they may be but they’re warriors nonetheless. And fine ones, at that.”

“That, they are…” Vanessa nods, taking a proud look at them.

Ryouma moves on towards the chair by Hilda’s bed and sits down, inspecting her bandaged head. “She told me of everything that’s happened. It sounds like things were quite dire… but, together, you two rose above the hardships and grew stronger because of it. All’s well that ends well, hm?”

“Koketsu ni irazunba, koji o ezu… to iu koto ne…” Hilda sighs.

“Ohoho… Very much so,” Ryouma grins happily.

As Vanessa shakes her head with laughing resignation, Owen stares at everyone, shrugging in confusion.

“That means, essentially, ‘nothing risked, nothing gained’. I’ve been teaching her Japanese here and there,” Ryouma explains with a wink.

“Wonderful…” Owen grunts, almost rolling his eyes.

“Welcome to my life for the past thirty years, Owen,” Vanessa pats him on the shoulder with a wry laugh. “Anyhow, I am sorry. Once Matu discharges you, let me at least buy you two lunch to make up for it. I know this great restaurant in Sicily.”

“Oh, I will gladly accept that invitation, my lady. Italian cuisine has always been one of my favorites,” Owen answers.

Hilda gives the idea a thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me, too. After that fight, I feel like I could eat an ox whole. Care to come with us, Shishou?”

“Hmm, I suppose I could…” ponders Ryouma. “However, that is for another moment. Matu said it’ll be about five days before all your bones, muscles and whatnot are fully recovered.”

“Which is why the two of them should be left alone to rest, Ryouma,” says the doctor himself, coming into the infirmary. “I’m afraid that means you, too, Vanessa.”

Vanessa playfully raises her hands and lowers her head in deferment. “Alright, no need to ask twice. Right, honey?”

“Absolutely,” he confirms before facing Hilda and Owen. “We’ll come visit you two later. In the meantime, just focus on regaining your strength.”

“Hai.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you both for your concern.”

With that, both Generals turn to exit the room, with Vanessa giving Matu a friendly pat on the back.

As they approach the door, however, Hilda calls out to them. “Oh, I almost forgot… What happened at the enclave? What were the Valnr doing there?”

“Since I had to bring you two over, I asked Ragnar to keep the area on lockdown until we could get a small group over to investigate the place. Michael Hammond is leading the team and since Ragnar just came back, they’re probably already there,” Vanessa quickly answers, as Matu taps his foot on the wooden floor. “We’ll have their report soon. ‘Til then, just take it easy.”

And, so, they leave. Having both Novitiates back safe and sound is a weight off Vanessa’s back but the Valnr’s unusual behavior is still a matter of concern for her and the other Generals. In fact, pondering the events that unfolded, one more question stands out to her. When she spoke to Nokor, considering his status as a Knight, she assumed he was the one who killed Agustín Paredes. 

However, having personally trained the guy before, she isn’t all too convinced that an opponent like Nokor could have done him in. The best case scenario would be that Agustín either made a mistake or fell victim to one of the Knight’s tactics, as the other option would be far more worrisome.

***

Back at the empty enclave in Bathurst Island, Michael and his team have already started combing the area. The outside of the base has nothing of interest, the dark earth of Amram’s Gash turned slightly gray due to the large amounts of ash left behind by the dead Revenants. Thus, Michael and the other two Scions accompanying him – Andrei, a clean-shaven young man of sharp features and slick brown hair, and Mali, an Asian girl of short dark hair that runs straight down to her chin – move into the now dilapidated fort. 

As Vanessa reported, the place is, indeed, of more complex make than usual. The smaller rooms present on the fort’s east and west wings were yet to be furnished but there are indications that they’d been built with specific purposes in mind: some have racks for weapons and armor, some have wide cells that could easily hold dozens of captives each; the second floor even shows signs that construction was still ongoing, as several staircases lead upwards into what could, possibly, had become a very large tower.

Still, this does not answer the question of what the purpose of this place was. Regrouping, Michael and his subordinates set off into the center of the fort.

“Damn, look at this place. It’s wrecked,” says Andrei, looking at the torn-apart floor and the several craters and cuts that mar the walls. “Hmm… there’s what’s left of the pylon up on that balcony. Guess the hole behind it is from when Lady Vanessa blew the Valnr through building.”

“Goodness, look at that…!” Mali gasps, pointing out a broken window nearby. “Her spell really did pierce through the mountain!”

“That’s the General of Taserus for you… strong as all hell,” Andrei quips but also looking wide-eyed at the newly formed opening in the distant rock formation. The sun’s set just right that the light goes right through it.

“She is pretty amazing, yes, but Lady Alexandra will always be the best for me!” she replies excitedly. “Rumor has it that she once killed five hundred Drones in a single attack!”

“Psh, that ain’t all that. You know of a little something called the Grand Canyon? Well, I’ve heard Lord Ragnar once made part of it close up in order to crush a Knight inbetween!” Andrei fires back, crossing his arms with confidence.

“That’s enough chit-chat, you two. Come over here,” calls Michael from across the room, beckoning them towards a seemingly ordinary part of the wall. Not so, however. Michael places his hand upon the wall and unleashes a ripple of water element across its surface, causing it to vanish. Behind the illusion lies a very large, winding staircase heading downwards.

“The Valnr took care to keep this hidden, so there has to be something down there. Stay behind me and keep your eyes open,” he tells Andrei and Mali who draw their weapons and confirm.

They quickly head down the steps which just keep going and going. This entire structure appears to have been made quite recently, as evidenced by how clean the granite used in its construction looks. A system of pulleys lies at the center of the stairs, rope stretching all the way to the bottom floor. Despite the Scions’ speed, it’s still a long way down and as they get deeper, something starts affecting them.

“Are you guys feeling something… weird?” Mali asks.

“Yeah, I am,” Andrei answers, rubbing his neck. “It’s like my body’s a bit heavier.”

Michael seems to be feeling it, too, as he repeatedly clutches his free hand. “It’s the Prana within us. Something is resonating with it.”

A few more minutes pass, as they head down about three hundred meters. At length, the granite stairs traverse into a chamber at the bottom. It is completely made out of dark stones, with several glowing, blue engravings stretched across the walls.

“Qusam ruins… just as Lady Vanessa expected,” Michael mumbles to himself before signaling towards the only exit in the room to Mali and Andrei.

The pressure on their bodies – especially with the young Novitiates – grows with each step forward; like they’re swimming deeper and deeper into a body of thick water. The small tunnel stretches onward and banks right, leading into a far wider, far different chamber. Instead of ebon stones commonly found in the Qusam tunnels, this place is made of a deep red material. Instead of the blue engravings, very elaborate symbols which glow in a bright silver light stretch across the floor, the wall, the ceiling. Said symbols swirls, stretch and contract across the surface, each line a small flow of energy, commingling in an enormous, ever-moving tapestry.

“What the hell…?” Andrei asks, slack-jawed. “Chief, you know what this is?”

Michael shakes his head, just as baffled as his subordinates. “I have no idea… The color of this room suggests it’s made of Alterium... And these symbols… could they be glyphs?”

“Are there even spells this complex, sir?” Mali ponders, turning in circles as her gaze travels across the room, following the energies.

“Maybe a fourth tier spell… though, really, this runs the risk of being even stronger than that. But if these really are Qusam ruins, then this spell was created during the War of Twilight… how? No Prana in this world – not even a Scion Avatar’s – lasts more than two hundred fifty-ish years without unraveling and returning to the Flow. This spell should have vanished centuries ago.”

“I feel so much power coming from it but… it’s also kind of beautiful,” she sighs with admiration.

“Yeah, I see what you mean… I really don’t think I oughta touch this thing but it does look nice,” Andrei nods.

Michael, however, clutches his chin as he looks around the room to see if he can make sense of anything. But he simply cannot. He’s never seen anything even remotely close to this – none of the drawings used in the glyphs are familiar, either. He can sense that something is being done with this enormous spell but he hasn’t even the faintest clue of what it could be. It doesn’t look like the effect isn’t happening here. But, hell, how could a spell of this magnitude be taking effect anywhere without anyone noticing it?

As Mali and Andrei looks around, Michael walks further into the chamber and notices several markings on the ground: a wide circle with a four-pronged star at the center, surrounded by odd runes; between each prong, four smaller circles containing depictions of the sun, the moon, Earth and some constellation. This is most certainly a glyph but it’s not like the ones across the room. Like the stairs, it’s a recent creation and he does recognize one of the runes as one used exclusively by the Valnr. Why did they make this here? Were they studying the spell in some way? What could—

Michael’s train of thought is interrupted when he senses a shift in the flow of Prana. The dark element is being gathered – large quantities of it, growing by the second, and it’s right on top of them. Michael’s heart skips several beats as he realizes what’s coming.

"Get over here! Come here right now! Now!!" he screams at the top of his lungs towards Mali and Adrei, making a mad dash towards them.

They’re initially startled but do as he says. Michael grabs them and immediately throws a Gate Crystal Shard at their feet. No sooner does the spell whisk them away, the entire area is engulfed in a tremendous explosion of darkness. It tears through the ruins, the earth and the Amram Gash, reducing it to dust; the nearby sea burns into steam and even the clouds above are pushed away by the force of the blast. As the spell fades, everything in a ten kilometer diameter has vanished – only a deep crater remains where once there lay part of Bathurst Island.

As the ocean waters begin crashing in to fill the space, a hidden figure stands within the dust cloud above. It’d be inadvisable to risk the Scions potentially gaining insight into what was studied here, at least at such early a juncture. The Qusam energies within will not be undone by such an attack, so nothing of value was lost with this. For the moment, preparations will continue as they have.