War of Dawn - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: White Eyes

Alexandra’s emergency dispatch has her, Hilda and Owen, sent to the far distant northeastern region, to Outpost #63. Stepping out of Wally’s portal, the fort is rather different from those Hilda has seen before.

Instead of the usual stone and wood construction, the entire place is made out of cast dark iron, giving it quite the sinister look. Tall towers flank each side of the ramparts, the flames set at their tops doubling as raging eyes and illuminating the areas outside. Spikes cover the tall outer walls, poised to skewer anything that dares get too close – as shown by a couple of distracted birds that met an untimely end on their tips. Said walls are further reinforced by Alterium plates, adding a belt of crisscrossing reddish brown lines through one end to the other.

Wide, bowl braziers lay spread within and at the ramparts, covering the structures’ black contours in orange lights that dance against the slight wind. The vivid red tents and banners of the Corps that hang from the buildings contrast heavily with the somber colors around.

That being said, it is the polar night period so “somber” is the appropriate way to describe things. Despite it still being in the afternoon, it is dark as though they’re working in the late hours of the night. The Northern Reaches will see no sunlight for about another month. The limited visibility means the outposts are more staffed than usual – the ramparts display two Sensors, hard at work, alongside a dozen other guards. The Valnr tend to be more brazen under the perpetual darkness, Ryouma had told Hilda.

“I’ll speak to the outpost’s leader,” Alexandra says after commanding the local Scions, who stood in firm salute, to stand at ease. “Wait for me by the gate, yes?”

As the general sets off towards the large tent in the middle of the construction, Hilda is quite impressed at this unusual outpost, so sturdy and imposing. It’s a bit evil looking to her tastes but, considering where they are, she can hazard a guess why. Owen, for once, shows just as much amusement as her, as he takes glances at the snow-covered ground below.

“What is this earth…?” he wonders aloud.

“Ooh, you don’t know?” Hilda gasps, bearing a big smile, “I actually get to be the one explaining stuff?”

Owen chuckles, and offers her a joking bow. “Please do… There is a first time for everything, after all.”

“Oh, you’re so funny I forgot to laugh, sir,” Hilda scoffs, mimicking his accent. “Any northerner has at least heard of this place: the northeastern ‘Black-Hearted Road’.”

Crouching on the ground, she beckons Owen to take a closer look. Upon inspection, he sees that this isn’t actually earth but, rather, all rock. Barring a few spots of smooth, black stone, most is craggy, light gray colored rocks, displaying a swerving pattern at its surface as though it was bent and layered upon itself. This terrain covers the entirety of the outpost’s floor and more. The area within the building itself has been flattened but, looking out the gate, one can see that it spreads far and wide in quite the misshapen, cracked form due to its myriad layers.

Hilda yanks off a jutting mass of black stone and tosses it to Owen. “Back in the War of Twilight, when the Valnr first showed up, they needed a quick way out the Reaches and into the northeastern Europe. The story goes they conjured a bunch of volcanoes across the ocean; the lava cooled off and made this path all the way into Russia. Folks at Litnir said it is mostly rhyolite with some obsidian, so it’s sturdy enough.”

“A Valnr-made path, huh?” he takes a look at the razor sharp rock, ebon as the sky above them. “I was wondering why the non-standard outpost but I think I understand now.

“Hm. I guess this was an enclave that we decided to keep around to use.” Hilda shrugs.

“We took it by the end of the last war, I believe, when we were cornering the Valnr in the Northern Reaches. #63 is one of our oldest ones.”

Alexandra steps behind them, prompting the two to end their geological study in a panic and stand at attention. The general just meets their curiosity with an smile and gestures for them to follow. “Usoluk isn’t too far from here. Come on, you two.”

The Novitiates salute and, together, the three Scions set out through the Valnr’s artificial land bridge. The uneven path makes for a bumpy travel from the start, with them having to make several detours to avoid the tall mounds left behind by the old volcanoes. Sadly, none of them are proficient in the wind element to be able to simply fly over it all as Vanessa did in Bathurst.

At the very least the path itself is interesting-looking, its origins notwithstanding. The swerving, rocky ground looks like one massive piece of multi-colored tapestry, its surface sometimes gray, other times white, green-ish or even a light pink. Some parts display small crystals imbedded within that glow as they reflect the dancing particles of their Haste spells. Maybe it’s her father’s miner blood speaking but Hilda can see a certain beauty in the flowing formation. Sadly, there’s no time to observe.

“Did the outpost’s leader add anything to that report, Your Majesty?” Owen asks.

Alexandra, leaving bright trails of silver light in her wake, shakes her head. “No, I requested them stay away and observe in case our Knight nemesis is within. Their scouts haven’t reported seeing or sensing anything thus far, however.”

“It’s empty?” Hilda frowns.

“Maybe, maybe not. All the death that’s happened there unleashed quite a lot of Prana – like dropping a boulder into the flow. It’ll be a bit before it calms down and they can get a clearer picture,” Alexandra answers before grim lines stretch across her countenance. “And, for that matter, it is quite the grizzly scene there. You’d best steel yourselves.”

Hilda somewhat feels this is more directed at her than Owen; still, she takes in a deep breath and tries doing as told.

“Where is the village located, Your Majesty?” he asks as the end of the Black-Hearted Path emerges in the horizon. They’re almost in the Russian side of the Northern Reaches.

Alexandra points further towards the coast, northwest of their current position.“Once we’ve reached land, we’ll follow the coastline. From what I was told, Usoluk lies right by the sea, north of the town of Lyushchensk.”

“Oof,” Hilda grunts, “That’s some name, huh?”

“No less complex than some cities in Finland – or even in your own Sweden.” Alexandra gives her a joking nod.

Hilda takes that as a challenge and, with a grin, fires back. “Örnsköldsvik.”

“Kristiinankaupunki.” The general laughs.

“Your Majesty… Are you two truly comparing complex town names in the presence of a Welshman?” Owen turns to both of them, staring with a raised eyebrow and a very doubtful look in his eyes.

Alexandra closes her eyes as a pained smile materializes on her lips. Her answer comes punctuated with a defeated sigh and a stress-heavy tone. “Aah… As someone who’s regularly met with your nobles, I’ll concede your point. Regardless, Usoluk is this way.”

The rocky path reaches out of the ocean, its rough surface spreading onto the white Siberian tundra. Following Alexandra’s directions, the Scions trail the coastline, their Haste spells thawing the thin layer of ice that covers the grainy soil. As with the likes of Banks and the other Canadian islands, vegetation is scarce by the northern coast. Still, Hilda has heard travelers in Litnir saying there are quite the vibrant forests if you head south. Judging from the nothingness before her eyes, however, that’s likely far away.

The humming left by the electricity raging at Hilda’s feet clash with the soothing swooshes coming from the waves by her side – the sea is quite calm today, despite the death of a village so wholly connected to it. Some animals have taken notice, however, as a flock of a dozen seagulls sings above, heading in the same direction as Hilda’s group. In fact, narrowing her eyes to look far ahead, she can see that quite a bunch of birds are gathered in an area, marked by fine pillars of gray smoke that rise from the ground. That must be the village; while their tunes could make for something of an eulogy, they’re likely helping themselves to the late fishermen’s stocks as they do so.

The approach to Usoluk itself takes a turn for the worse two-thirds of the way through, as the salty marine air starts being replaced by the pungent smell of burnt flesh. It stinks of meat that’s been overcooked, only ten times worse as it is further bolstered by the human body’s inner odors and the hamlet’s fishes. With every approaching step, Hilda feels her stomach churning, her lungs burning as she breathes in the acrid stench. Gripping her nose doesn’t do much to help, as it seems to seep in through the skin. Alexandra and Owen are holding well enough, though their curled nostrils show that not even they can remain stoic face it all.

Ten minutes later, they arrive. Despite Alexandra’s warnings, Hilda is not ready for what she encounters. Over two hundred corpses, men, women, children, stretched about a hamlet of charred wooden huts. The bodies all show signs of having been pierced by an intense blast of flame, displaying gaping, cauterized holes across their chests the size of watermelons. Some were simply torn in half from the attack, while others had their heads blown clean off. The entire snowy ground beneath the village lies caked in the deep crimson colors, looking as though the earth itself bled in this place.

The seagulls weren’t the only creatures drawn over, either. A pack of wolves prowls about, taking generous bites of whatever fresh meat remains in the corpses themselves. The sound of ripping muscle and sinew, of crunching bone, plays a dreadful symphony for all. And Hilda can’t handle it. The smell, the sights, the noises overwhelm her and she finds herself gripping her knees as her earlier lunch burns through her throat and makes its way towards the earth below. As she coughs and gags, Owen holds her hair back and supports her shoulders, trying his best to not appear just as distraught by the scenery. One need only look in his eyes to see the shock that’s spread throughout them, though.

Alexandra’s the only one who stands firm, albeit with outrage evident all over tension spread throughout the slight wrinkles in her face. She casts a Sight glyph in her right hand and raises it towards the hamlet’s remains, trying to scope out the area. In just a few seconds, however, she waves the spell away as a couple of Scions scouts emerge from a nearby hill. A young man and girl, they run towards Alexandra and greet her with a salute. They have, respectively, a circle with a pentagon and a circle with a waning moon, indicating Novitiates of Holfores and Sarel.

“Thanks for coming over as fast as you did, Lady Alexandra. I’m Andrei Lagunov,” the man greets her.

“And I am Mali Sakda, my lady,” the girl does the same, with barely contained admiration reflecting in her dark eyes. “It is such an honor to meet you… though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Alexandra nods in agreement, a heavy frown in her brow. “Indeed, it is a shame… You were the ones who reported this massacre, yes? Has there been any movement since?”

“Nyet… We found it an hour ago but I reckon it’s been two since the place got wrecked. Still haven’t seen or sensed any Valnr or even Revs.” Andrei shrugs before Mali slaps his shoulder.

“Be respectful when reporting to a general!” she chides him before clearing her throat and continuing in Andrei’s place. “But, regardless, he is correct – we have seen no enemy activity. That being said, we have an idea of where the spell that struck this hamlet came from, my lady. Look at the town center, if you would.”

She points out an area farther ahead, where several charred huts lay arranged in a circle. On the ground, several round cavities can be seen across its surface. The shape of the dislocated earth suggests that something erupted from within with tremendous force. Alexandra steps closer, shooing the wolves away with a bright flash of light, and crouching to inspect one of the holes. It heads straight down, and for quite the long way – the bottom is nowhere in sight.

“Hrm…” grunts Hilda, still a bit dizzy, as she and Owen join the others. “Do you see anything, ma’am?”

“I do, yes… Are you feeling better?” Alexandra asks.

Hilda exhales sharply, clutching her still aching throat, before nodding. “I am. There isn’t pretty much anything left for me to cough out.”

“If it helps, I had the same reaction when I first saw all this…” Mali says with a sympathetic gaze.

“Just take deep, slow breaths, and come take a look.” The general beckons them all closer, conjuring a small ball of light in her hand.

She sends it floating down one of the cavities in the ground, its glow revealing several pieces of molten stones within the walls of the perfectly-carved tunnel. It has even pierced what appears to be the distant bedrock as it went for the surface.

“I see what you two meant. By the looks of it, I’d wager it was a second tier glyph – Pursuing Torrent, most likely – that tore through the earth and attacked everyone nearby,” she surmises.

Andrei sets his eyes back at Alexandra, eyebrows contorting with anger and worry. “That’s a pretty beefy spell… Gotta be that Mystery Knight, yeah?”

“We seem to have a knack for running into his, or her, handiwork…” Mali sighs, before casting a Sight glyph towards the ground. “Though I still don’t see anything – the ongoing distortion in the flow isn’t helping, of course.”

“So we’ll need to look closer,” Alexandra declares and takes a few steps back.

She pulls out her sword and plunges it into the earth. Clutching its diamond pommel, Alexandra sends a wave of orange energy through it. Four walls of orange-colored light, like pristine, thin sheets of glass, manifest in the shape of a square and sink deep beneath the surface in front. A loud screech echoes through the area as Alexandra’s spell carves the earth until, a few seconds later, she feels something and stops.

“You’d best back up, children,” she tells the other Scions who promptly do as told.

Alexandra points to the ground and flicks her hand upwards, eliciting the carved area to shake and shoot up into the sky. A solid column of earth and stone, a good fifteen meters tall, stands aloft as bits of it trickle from its uneven base. At the general’s command, an unseen force breaks it, like a frail stick of wood, into thousands of smaller pieces that fly off into the distance. A wide shaft now lies where the column once stood, all held in place by the glowing sheets of light that illuminates it to its depths. Hilda sees her jaw hit the ground at the ease with which the general manipulates the earth – what the folks of Litnir wouldn’t give to be able to pull this off…

“Andrei, Mali, stand guard here in case the Valnr try to sneak by us; if you spot anything, tell me right away.” Alexandra tosses Andrei a Comm. Crystal that glows with her usual silver light. “Hilda, Owen, you’re with me.”

As the two scouts salute her and confirm, Alexandra turns and steps towards the empty shaft in front. A loud gasp almost erupts off Hilda’s mouth, expecting the general to free fall into the abyss. She needn’t have worried, though: the light that holds the shaft in place wobbles as Alexandra’s foot approaches and it extends in the form of a solid platform. With each step, another lower section transforms, progressively creating a transparent, orange stairwell.

“Watch your backs,” Andrei warns.

“You two as well. Come on, Hilda,” Owen answers and beckons her towards the stairwell.

She nods and follows with haste. Anything to leave these slaughter grounds behind, Hilda thinks, curling her nose and grasping her mouth shut.

As she descends and the stench from the outside diminishes, Hilda does get somewhat nervous of the path she’s trailing here. The transparent steps are firm but they crackle and waver at the slightest pressure. And while they were resilient enough to withstand Alexandra and Owen, the constant pop-pop-pop they make does not help alleviate her worries. Still, she forges on behind her partner and, soon enough, reaches blessed solid ground.

What lies down there is hardly a welcoming sight, however. It seems that Alexandra wasn’t the only one proficient enough to carve large chunks of earth away via spells. Someone else has done the same underneath Usoluk, creating a fresh-looking tunnel that stands three meters across and above, held together by walls of thick ice. Brilliant blue and white crystals, big and small, simple and complex, spread throughout the entirety of the passageway.

The sounds of the ocean above have long since faded, giving way to a dreary silence that is broken by droplets of water falling to the ground with loud plops; the heels of their boots clash against the frozen floor, echoing far. It wouldn’t be difficult to hear them coming.

The whole thing gives out an ethereal glow, reflecting the light that shines from Alexandra’s spell from all sides. Despite all the earth around it, it is very sturdy and stands unmoving like it were made of the strongest steel. The only gaps in the construction come from the wide holes left in the ceiling by the enemy’s previous attack. The tunnel is quite lengthy, too, both its ends reaching out into the distance, far away from the fishing hamlet. Who knows where it started? Regardless, barring any regular sorcerers deciding to take up a career in prospecting, this is all but surely a Valnr creation.

Alexandra lifts out her hand and conjures the Sight glyph anew, turning around to scan the area. When she faces north-ward, she stops. “Hrm,” the general lets out a displeased grunt, “We may be too late already.”

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Owen asks.

“Take a look this way.” Alexandra points down the tunnel.

Hilda follows her suggestion and brings out a Sight glyph of her own. The distortion left by the above ground massacre is still clearly present. Like churning water, the flow of Prana trembles, twists and swerves in all directions without any semblance of control. Still, now that they are close, a few things are being picked up. The problem is that there is too little for what they assumed would be a full Valnr operation. Amid the churning white light of the Sight glyph, only ten Revenants are spotted and, farther, a lone Drone.

“The hell? There’s almost nothing here,” Hilda exclaims. “Didn’t Mali and Andrei say the place must’ve been torched about two hours ago?”

Owen closes his eyes and is just as confused by the area ahead. Frowning and narrowing his lips, he shakes his head. “Have they already left? What was all this for?”

“Maybe we’re still not sensing most of them?” Hilda adds.

“We could potentially overlook Revenants and Drones but… at this range, even the flow’s distortion wouldn’t conceal a Knight,” Alexandra says, clutching her chin as she thinks aloud. “We ought to take a closer look.”

She sets on towards the Valnr, both Novitiates at her flank. Slowly – so that they may keep an eye out for any other enemies that may be felt amid the twisting flow of Prana. No such thing happens as the icy tunnel runs along north-bound, though. The path goes on for two kilometers, off the Siberian coast and underneath the frigid waters of the Northern Reaches. Through the transparent walls of ice, Hilda sees only the vast emptiness that lies beneath the surface – a blue that extends as far as the eye can see.

A few dozen meters ahead, however, the tunnel comes to an abrupt end: the floor has been broken off, leading into something of an underwater construction. Taking a look into the opening, Hilda easily recognizes the marks, shining with a faint blue glow, that lie upon the walls of the structure beneath.

“That’s a Qusam ruin…Here?” she gasps.

“An easy feat for those who had achieved such mastery in magic.” Alexandra scopes out the area before them once again. “And the Valnr just can’t seem to get enough of these lately… Indeed, they are all here and it is just the Revenants and the Drone.”

“Then we did arrive too late,” Owen sighs.

“Unfortunately, that is what it looks like. But we can still clear this area out and see if they left anything behind,” the general answers and jumps into the tunnel beneath.

Hilda and Owen follow behind, their landing on the stony floor echoing loudly throughout the area. The enemy doesn’t seem to have heard it, though, as no shrieking follows. The structure itself follows the Qusam standard, like with Almdalir: tall and wide chambers of polished ebony stones, with complex and unknown blue runes carved all about. And it is suitably complex, with no less than eight different exits to choose from. If Hilda’s previous experience with these tunnels was any indication, there is no telling where they could lead.

“So, what do we do now?” she asks.

Alexandra turns her head from side to side, inspecting the chamber around. She bites her thumb, thinking, and takes one more look with the Sight spell.

“Normally, I’d just tear these walls down to ease our passage… but doing so now would either risk a flood or destroying clues that might be useful,” she mumbles.

Owen raises his hand speaks up. “If I may make a suggestion, Your Majesty, we could split up to better bring these ruins under our control. The strongest foe here is that Drone and even we could dispatch it.”

Hilda is quick to nod in agreement, eliciting a pensive hum from the general. She ends her spell and opens her eyes, taking a long look at the two Novitiates. At length, she wags an eyebrow with acceptance and combs through her pouch in search of two inactive Comm. Crystals. Clutching them in her palm, a small flash of light erupts and fills them with a silvery glow.

“Fair enough, though I want you to always keep in touch,” she says and tosses each one a crystal. “If you spot anything – anything at all – out of the ordinary, inform me immediately. End whichever enemy you encounter and we’ll rendezvous once the area is clear.”

Hilda sets the crystal aside and salutes her with confidence. “Aye, aye, ma’am… Do we just pick one of these tunnels and go, then?”

“We’ve no idea where they’ll lead but, judging from the Valnr’s position, I’d wager these will be our best choice.” Owen points out the four tunnels present in the right side of the chamber.

“I agree. Make sure you mark your path so you don’t get lost and, please, maintain contact,” Alexandra says, crossing her hands to emphasize her request.

Hilda and Owen salute in confirmation, draw their weapons and pick a tunnel. As they cast their Haste glyphs and run in, Hilda peeks back to the general just in time to see her blanket herself with silver light and disappear in the blink of an eye. If she’s as fast as Vanessa, it’s likely she’ll have this place cleared out before they even have a chance to find anything. Still, Hilda isn’t one to sit by and let her handle everything by her lonesome – she wants to kill at least one Revenant. With that in mind, she puts extra tension in her legs and runs as fast as she can withstand.

Hilda traverses the seemingly unending corridors, taking care to carve small arrows in the dark wall to indicate the way she came from. It’s a good thing Alexandra reminded her to do so, as a problem soon becomes apparent. While the Almdalir underground was designed as an interconnected web of passages in all directions, this one is very much different. It is more like a maze, where the excessive tunnels are meant to confuse instead of serving as a wide travel network.

Throughout the web she now realizes she is in, Hilda heads up, down, left, right, clockwise and counterclockwise in search of anything. Every few steps, she is presented with crossroads that loop on themselves, magic-infused stairwells that run endlessly for as long as she tries ascending and illusory paths that transport her back to a previous tunnel. Everything has been meticulously made to look exactly the same – down to the markings on the walls. Hilda runs on and on and on, finding neither a single Revenant nor any semblance of progress. Still, a look around with the Sight glyph shows that seven of the undead have been killed already – Alexandra and Owen are having more success with finding enemies, though not with actually getting through the maze.

Maybe the reason the Valnr aren’t here is because they realized all this crap just isn’t worth it…! she thinks, counting to ten and clenching her hands together to stop herself from punching a hole in the wall.

That said, she has both the speed of her Haste spell and stubbornness on her side. Steadily, she singles out which tunnels actually lead onward via her carvings on the walls. This eventually leads her into a small chamber and this one looks a wee bit different from the others. More importantly, a lone Revenant is within, staring immobile at a section of the wall, as though it is the most entrancing bit of architecture in the world.

What’s that thing doing? Hilda wonders. She squints her eyes but sees nothing over there. Yet, the undead doesn’t take its eyes away for a second. Whatever it is, she figures she can take a look once it is dead. And that does not take long to happen; the Revenant is so fixated on the wall that it does not even notice her approach. Quick and silent, Hilda jams her fist into the undead’s back and fires a Stream glyph. The lightning elemental erupts through the creature, reducing its entire chest to charred pieces of meat. The rest of its body follows right away.

At least I can say I did something here, she grumbles inwardly. With that out of the way, Hilda takes a closer look at the Revenant’s spot. She sees nothing on the wall but something feels odd in this particular area. Her body feels like it’s taken an extra fifty kilos, though she is nowhere tired enough from running to chalk that up to exhaustion. Still, the sensation tires her out a bit. As she inches up against the wall to catch a breather, however, it gets worse – the pressure striking her heightens. There has to be something here.

Conjuring a Sight glyph anew, Hilda has to bite her tongue to stymie the surprised yelp that almost erupts off her lips. The Drone is so very close to her: about ten meters ahead, on the other side of this wall. Was it built here by the Valnr? Maybe the Revenant was placed as a gatekeeper.

“Ma’am,” Hilda grabs the Comm. Crystal and whispers into it. “I think I’m very close to the Drone but the thing’s blocked the passage. Can I bust just one wall? I promise I’ll be careful.”

“If you’re so certain… But, yes, do your best to minimize damage. My path is leading rather close to Owen, so I’ll find him and see if we can’t meet at your location,” Alexandra’s voice echoes through the crystal and into Hilda’s ear.

“Roger. I’ll let you know when it’s done,” she answers and stands back up.

The wall itself seems pretty solid but, considering that Ryouma melted it with ease in Almdalir, it shouldn’t be too much. Hilda conjures five LightningBolts above her head and fires them at it in a clockwise pattern. Each one blows through with a hole the size of an apple and, looking through them, it doesn’t seem like there is anything in the immediate vicinity of the other side. With all those holes weakening the structure, Hilda takes a few steps back, conjures the Haste glyph and rams shoulder-first into it.

Success – the wall comes crumbling down, its dark bricks melting into orange-colored dust that vanishes nigh instantly. An earth-based illusion and, behind it, the tunnel the Valnr were trying to hide. Hilda moves onward, the pressure she feels increasing by the second. Soon, the ruin’s tiles transition from black into red and the blue markings on the walls start being replaced with silver symbols – just like the ones that featured in Michael, Andrei and Mali’s report a few months ago.

“Ma’am,” Hilda whispers to Alexandra again. “I think this is something like the one they found in the Bathurst underground.”

As she keeps moving onward, the silver symbols become brighter, more complex and more prevalent. They move amid the red walls in a mesmerizing dance.

“I half expected that…” the general’s echoing voice in the crystal sighs. “Hopefully we’ll be able to study it this time. Be careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The path continues on straight and, a few minutes later, Hilda reaches its end; a wide room, bright as though someone decided to store the sun itself within. Her hand reflexively shields her eyes, though she can see the massive silver designs that lay about. Circles, triangles, diamonds, depictions of the moon, wholly unintelligible writings, runes and more spin, vanish and reappear amid every square centimeter of the chamber. Despite all the movement happening, the entire room is filled with silence – as though what she sees is merely a projection of something that isn’t there.

It is all so incredibly complicated that Hilda can’t even begin to comprehend what she is looking at, standing there, mouth agape, face the spectacle. Still, something about being here bothers her. She doesn’t know why, though, but it is like a voice in the deepest corners of her mind is screaming at her not to mess with these energies. The pressure gripping her body is at an all-time high, too, as if the chamber itself wants her to get out.

Her mind is brought back to reality as a loud hum cuts across the silence, coming from the opposite side. Narrowing her eyes to look through the brightness in front, Hilda spots something in the distance: a figure, surrounded by dark blue lights.

That’s gotta be the Valnr, she thinks. She draws her blade and starts inching forward, trying to get a sense of what it’s doing. The figure slowly becomes clearer: an average sized person, covered from head to toe in a black cloak marked by intricate red patterns that run down the sides – like stained glass. The Drone is casting something on the swerving symbols on the wall, extending a silver beam of energy from them to its palm. It doesn’t seem to be doing anything in Hilda’s eyes but she’s not about to just sit there and let this play out.

She firms the grip on her blade as electricity begins to circulate around her, ready to attack. That is, until the Drone turns its cloaked head towards her without any warning. She’s been spotted. Hilda steels herself for battle but no such thing happens; instead, her foe merely shakes its head from side to side and raises its free hand in a clear gesture for her to stop.

And stop, she does, though not due to the Valnr’s supposed warning. It’s more out of shock since, first, Drones aren’t supposed to even have enough intelligence to understand the concept of “warning”. Second, why would a Valnr care to do so in the first place? With the warning given, it continues with the spell as though she is not even there. Hilda lets out a sharp breath, refocusing on the problem at hand: there is something big going on in this room and this Drone is doing stuff to it. Whatever is happening, it can’t be good and she needs to stop it.

“Sorry, but I don’t take advice from monsters,” she growls at the Valnr and charges in, her foe making no movement in response whatsoever. Her sword is raised high, unleashing a violet glow of the lightning elemental as it moves amid the silver light of the room. Hilda brings it down with all her might, seeking to end the Drone in one fell strike.

Once more a loud sound echoes throughout the area only, this time, it is the crack that comes from her sword breaking like glass. A solid barrier erupted around the Valnr the moment the blade would have connected. The result: the blade’s snapped in half as though she just tried jamming a kitchen knife into raw iron.

“What the hell…?” Hilda gasps as the Valnr continues to ignore her. “My master gave me that sword, you bastard!”

Enraged, she lets go of her broken blade and bears her spells at the enemy. Hilda fires two Stream glyphs in each hand, unleashing a torrent of electricity at the Drone. It does not work. Her spell bounces of its Shield, flaring bolts of lightning flying off in all directions. Hilda redoubles her efforts, bolstering her spell as the streaks of electricity start tearing through the nearby ground and disappearing when they touch the silver energies. Still futile, the Valnr’s barrier remains untouched.

Soon, the strain of her constant attack becomes too much. She’s forced to stop, falling to a knee with a tired groan. A muffled sigh comes from the Valnr, as it seemingly finishes its spell; the beam connecting the wall’s symbols to its palm and the markings at its feet vanish upon a wave of its hand.

Silence once more fills the chamber, broken only by Hilda's deep breathing. That changes as a ring of red energies coalesces around her neck and, like a noose, drags her upwards. Her hands desperately clutch the spell, keeping her from being choked to death, as Hilda kicks away to try and free herself.

However, the moment the Valnr turns around and faces her, she stops moving. She stops breathing. And if she couldn't hear the rapid, booming drumbeat of her heart, she'd assume that it had stopped as well.

From behind its cloak, the lower half of the Valnr’s face lies obscured behind an ornate black face-guard with gold edges; the eyes are clearly visible, however, as white as the freshest snow. From within them, Hilda feels tremendous power and finds herself standing as an ant trying to hold back a raging avalanche. It needn't even attack – merely meeting its eyes is already overwhelming.

The Valnr cocks its head at the immobile girl and raises its hand towards her. Bright flames gather within, contracting into a sphere of blinding, pulsating energy.

It’s going to kill me…! I gotta do something! she screams in her head. Desperate to escape, she unleashes a blast of electricity from her hands in an attempt to break the ring around her neck. Another fruitless attempt, which only serves to leave deep burns in her palms as the energies of her attacks contact and erupt against the Valnr’s unflinching spell. Groaning in pain, she barely maintains herself upright as the sphere in her foe’s hand glints, signaling it is fully charged. The heat concentrated within sears her skin before even touching it.

The Valnr seems about to unleash it but stops before doing so, turning its head as though something called out to it. It is then that a crescent blade of silver light tears through the ground, headed right towards it. The Valnr dodges backwards at the last second, barely avoiding losing its outstretched arm. Hilda’s eyes shuffle towards the chamber’s entrance and she spots Owen and Alexandra, silver energy wafting off her body like waves of fire. Her countenance is firm and focused, though all those present sense in their very bones the power that emanates from the general, surmounting even the pressure derived from this chamber.

“Let her go,” Alexandra snarls, poised to attack at a moment’s notice. The blade in her left hand is enveloped by swirling currents of light while, on her right hand, the raw light elemental stands with the obedience of a loyal servant.

The Valnr is not intimidated, turning to face her directly. It exchanges glances with the general through its hood, as both remain steadfast. Hilda, sweat streaming down her face, finds herself stuck between two vortexes of immense power with a literal rope around her neck. For a moment, time feels as though it has stopped, as none make even the slightest move. Their gaze locked together, muscles tightened, Alexandra and the Valnr clash their very spirits against one another in an unseen battlefield. There are no attacks but the ancient energies that fill the room reverberate again and again, like a pond that’s on the receiving end of several boulders.

As suddenly as it started, the Valnr acquiesces and lowers its arms – Alexandra apparently won that bout. The ring around Hilda’s neck fades away, dropping her to the ground.

“You’re no Drone…” Alexandra speaks with a very wary tone. “Who in blazes are you?”

The Valnr's answer comes in a single word, its voice muffled and distorted beyond any recognition: "Virrath." With that, it waves its hand and conjures a portal of darkness beneath its feet. Noticing this, Alexandra immediately springs forward but it is too late. Her foe vanishes in the split second it takes for her to reach it and her blade swings against the empty air.

Alexandra grunts in annoyance before turning her attention to Hilda. Owen is already kneeling beside her, helping his partner sit back up. Her breath is strained, marred by a hacking cough, but she seems fine overall – her hands can be easily healed.

We’ll need to ask her what she saw…the general thinks as she observes the area around. And this place is in dire need of an urgent investigation, now more than ever.

As her eyes trail about the unknown spells stretched across the chamber, they set upon the gash in the ground left by the attack of her blade. It hasn’t done any significant damage, not even disturbing the flow of energies around, but it is by far the most worrisome thing she sees in here.

That Valnr dodged the attack of an Ascended Scion.