"Finale" (Isle of the Crown)

[Kaelon]

(Continued from "Time's Arrow".)

Time stood still. If in the beginning, there was only a void, at the end of it all, there was assuredly everything at the same time. And so it was for the adventurers who stepped through the Temporal Rift in the Palace of the Crown of the past that their reality was pummelled by visions of everything: their entire lives, the lives of the people that they knew, and, most frighteningly, flashes of the events that would transpire in the years after the fated encounter upon Insula Coronae at the twilight of the Second Empire. Walking into the Temporal Rift, a ripple of the fabric of existence tore away and when the brave heroes were engulfed in blazing light, their minds were assaulted by matter between space and time itself. The visions came quickly, and some adventurers understood more than others, but as they saw the events, they felt their surroundings transforming around them as if all of reality were somehow transpiring at a lightning fast pace, being fast-forwarded into the present with periodic pauses at critical junctures. From within that tiny alcove off of the Hall of Kings could be witnessed the transformation of the empire that they had so lovingly served for so long, in the past as it became the present, and now the present as it would materialize into the future.

The Five Fragments of the Aethergem became as one, their cracked seams still visible from the shattering that Odyleon had orchestrated at that pivotal moment. Hazy light descended around the periphery of vision as a strong sense of nausea and sickening disorientation befell all who witnessed a seeping reddish liquid bleeding out of the cracks and covering the gemstone's lattice. The power of the Talisman had been restored, at the cost of Emperor Constantine's life, necessary to create the rift at the great sacrifice of the Ancient Aelyrian's feathers from his wings. The Throne of the Kings was covered in drapes, scaffolding materialized out of nowhere, and dozens of tiny figures scrambled throughout the chamber below - not repairing it, but instead preserving it, hoisting the Aethergem upwards to the Main Hall above where it would remain under the Third Empire to follow. And as darkness descended over the ancient Throne Room, the charred remains of the tattered banners and crumbling dust left behind the powdered marble columns were solemn testaments to what had occurred on this night of mysteries, which remained ever more a secret to the historians who would try to uncover what really happened. Lord Ortorius had once written that Emperor Constantine was seen fleeing the scene of the Palace aboard a great Warbird, a majestic albatross and the emblem of the realm, yet the adventurers knew better what had really happened and could perhaps only attribute the misunderstanding to Viceroy Alyssa Chrysinaria's magically-assisted winged flight.

The Suns rose and set, rapidly within seconds, causing brightness and darkness to alternate rapidly, moving forward in quick progression. Streaming ribbons of light surrounded the Throne Room, and above it had been built an open gallery where the Aethergem itself have been raised upon a new stone column. Even as time progressed, adventurers could see the construction of the Imperial Seat, the Dragon Throne linked to the Celestial Mandate, upon which an Elven woman with goldspun blonde hair sat calmly and judiciously. Her azure eyes peered down the gallery, into the crevices of the darkened old Throne Room, curiously almost meeting the very spot where the adventurers had passed through time.

Years and decades passed again, the Aethergem resting comfortably upon its elevation casting aside the events that had happened in the past. Beyond the Throne Room, off towards the balcony, could be seen the familiar ship of the Imperial Yacht, the AFS Fragh'atha, spiralling off into the distant afternoon towards Aelyria Prime. In pursuit were two black-silver shells, smaller vessels streaming angrily and firing purplish and green light at the yacht. As the scene moved beyond vision, the adventurers could catch a glimmer of light flickering within the Aethergem as a particularly powerful spell had been cast, drawing upon its considerable resources. The amethyst color began to drain and darken, and as years continued to pass, the gem's cracks were once again exposed.

A tall elven male clad in the robes of an Archmage circled the Aethergem from above, looking cautiously at its deteriorating state. The adventurers saw beneath its pedestal the familiar shadows of Emperor Constantine and that other strange and cursed presence entwined and locked in a deadly embrace that had lasted decades. The Archmage's eyes grew open and he shouted out, lifting a hand in protestation. But it was too late for him, or anyone else, to have done anything to prevent the inevitable. The time that the Emperor had bought for the world had been spent, and the Aethergem cracked into nine fragments this time, exploding across the room and taking the entire northern edge of the Palace of the Crown with it in a fiery, arcane inferno. The Aetherfracture, as it had been known, was the catastrophic event that brought down the Third Empire and prevented the coronation of another monarch, leaving the realm in the stewardship from protector to another regent, under the guise of pretenders and nobles, the faithful and well-intentioned.

History would be written never knowing what happened at the end of the Second Empire, but its effects were well felt. Aslangrad was gone, the outlying villages destroyed and city left in ruins. Minister Kane would never be heard from again, and the fate of his Zeppelin remained all but a mystery. Empress Fire was condemned, despite her repeated denials that she never ordered the assault. And when she dared to try and perform the Rite of the Aethercrown to become Empress in her own right, she and the other pretenders were absorbed by the Aethergem and imbued within Emperor Valerian Constantius, who reportedly went mad from the whole affair. By the time the Aetherfracture occurred, Aelyria had almost forgotten about how the Second Empire collapsed, how Aelyria as a nation ceased to exist for decades, and how only the willingness of the cities and provinces to come together to restore order ensured that the Third Empire could flourish. Instead, adventurers grew more determined to seek glory and power, magic and wealth, and from the corrupt Magocracy to the benevolent Regency, Aelyria remained without a truly unifying force. Condemned to wither, the adventurers had come here to make a stand for what they believed in.

* * *

The Present

Stepping through the Rift, one by one, the adventurers began to shake off their disorientation and examine their surroundings. It was as if not a moment had even passed: the darkened nighttime sky of Insula Coronae had been populated by the shining beacons of the floating isles of the Aelyrians, with their majestic crystal-covered buildings which had anchored into the mountainside. Hundreds of winged soldiers remained on a relentless patrol, their flaming falchions unsheathed and bronze kiteshields raised to the level of their eyes as they brought the light into the darkened and chaotic Isle. The Isle of the Crown was overtaken by entropy, but adventurers could see that order had begun to take hold. And with the chaotic winds beginning to die down, the adventurers walked forward.

Upon the edge of the top of Mount Corona stood three Aelyrians; the winged soldier that the adventurers had seen before; the older white-haired Aelyrian wearing a golden crown upon his head; and, a third Aelyrian clad in a tunic of black and crimson, trimmed with gold, clad in the shining gemstone armor that the other winged creatures wore. Around his neck still clung the familiar emerald medallion, a vision that caused quick remembrance of what the companions wore around their necks in the past. And, in fact, still wore. Everything they had touched in the past, and everything they had taken, had entered the realm of the present with them. But, like the Aelyrian Viceroy's medallion, their medallions no longer shone brightly with the deep emerald light of the Aethergem. The Aetherfracture must have also claimed the power of these anchoring amulets as well.

(OOC: Wessex de Evile IV has been added to this thread.)

The Crowned Aelyrian stepped forth, and was the first to speak. To the astonishment of the adventurers, who just moments earlier had heard him speaking in a strange language, the elder Aelyrian this time spoke in perfect Common, with no trace of accent or any distinguishing dialect. "Joy fills Our hearts that you return safely to Us!" he remarked, spreading his arms as if to embrace the adventurers one by one. Yet, he kept his distance and moved his head about, eyes darting to count everyone. "Did everyone survive? Was anyone left behind?"

The Aelyrian soldier moved forward and stood next to the monarch. His hand was upon the hilt of his sheathed falchion. The Leader of the Aelyrians raised a hand, and just gazed towards the soldier who understood silently to stand down. He once again spoke. "I am Auron, Praelarctus of Ikerael. Do not be afraid. We sense that you return to Us somewhat altered. Come, let Us examine you. Tell Us, what happened?"

[Kaelon]

(OOC: Odyleon and Milo are the first to cross. Followed by Liselle moments afterwards.)

[Wessex de Evile IV]

The adventurers had come full circle in a matter of what to them was moments. The intervening period for the Aelyrian Viceroy was much greater, as he lived through the intervening eras. Borders and boundaries shifted, rules and would-be rulers rose and were crushed into dust. The Viceroy himself had united the former territories governed by Aslangrad and then passed their stewardship to Imperial oversight, and as time passed, he stepped back and faded into the mists of myth and legend, a fleeting shadow on the edges of history seldom seen and even more rarely comprehended. He was there when Fire de Mystia had summoned an Antiarchon to combat both Aelyrians and Xetans, and he was there again when she was once and for all banished into the mists by the choice of the Aethercrown and through her own insatiable urge to consume all leading to her ultimate downfall, but after that while he heart remained here at Insula Coronae, he had not returned.

But that was all once again the past. Here, in the now, Wessex was finally returned to Mount Corona. He had bided his time, waiting for those who would come -- that that had already come -- to do as was necessary. Regardless of their intention, the Aethercrown was now shattered, as he had wished but only now would see realized. The final desperate cries of the shards of the Aethergem and the Aethercrown echoed those which had immediately followed the incident at Aslangrad, and that was his cue to come to this place. Not knowing what to expect here he had come as if girded for battle.

The presence of the Aelyrians on the isle came as something of a surprise, but they were not his concern at the moment. He was apostate, an outcast, overlooked even by fate when it had taken the rest of the Aelyrian race across a veil of time and space. Making sure they knew their place in the future of this world they were once again a part of was something he could educate them on at his later leisure. But now, he was here to be reunited with that presence he had sensed in the skies above Aslangrad that fateful eve, when 2 million lives had simultaneously disappeared, snatched from the fiery fate that was about to consume them.

Wessex watched passively and said nothing as the Praelarctus greeted those who had returned from the journey across the Empires. It was common sense, after all, to extend the courtesy to the leader of so many other already here on the Isle to greet them first on their return. He would have time to greet them all in turn soon enough.

And then he would be able to tell one of them the truth.

[Odyleon]

It was over... right? So many things had transpired in a matter of candlemarks - the night on Insula Corona had covered the raging battle with a blanket of darkness, but the day that had preceded it had been the longest ever to touch the lives of those who had survived it. And those, those were not many. If a certain Mystic's spell had worked, their sacrifice would not be a pointless one.

Events flashed before his eyes at the speed of memory, some well-known, others obscure. To have become part of the history of Aelyria was of little interest to Odyleon Q. Meiers, but he would be satisfied if he could prove to the world that Mysticism was more than the malicious trickery practiced by many of his unworthy colleagues. Lies, while ostensibly the main subject and object of the art, could be used to define truth by negation.

He stepped out of the Temporal Rift and noticed that the Aelyrians were still there and acting like they were here to stay. Truth told, Ody very much believed that these people would be nothing but trouble in the long run - just listening to the crowned one speak in that absurd ceremonial jargon of his cemented that belief. When someone with such speech patterns was allowed to rule, nothing good could be expected to come from it.

The Mage did notice the presence of an Aelyrian that had not been there when he had stepped into the portal, but then again the entire race defied any attempt at full understanding. He supposed since he had emerged first from the portal, he might as well do the honors and answer the awkwardly posed questions of the Praelarctus. "Yes, well, I think we all survived, though the fact is somewhat surprising, giving that I'm supposed to be dead from Mana overload. But as to what happened? Fire de Mystia and Kane Sabre had some crazy plan to cleanse Aslangrad and Prime in fire. She was also trying to summon something, but we stopped her... I think I caused the Aetherfracture in order to wake Connie... I mean, Constantine, from his slumber."

He left out the detail of Constantine turning into a Cyraxian, out of a remote fear of triggering a similar reaction in his listeners, as well as the thing about the woman who had called herself Haya. "Then we were given these medallions and pursued Kane on the Imperial Yacht... not exactly clear if that was a boat or a ship, but anyways, I figured that since history states Aslangrad was destroyed, I could still move it forward in time and make it look like Kane had burnt it down. I have no idea if that worked, but I can't really take full credit since I definitely felt something helping me. And that's about it, I suppose."

That was about it. Enough action for one day, most likely. Ody really hoped this interrogation would not take too long. Saving the world was all fine and dandy, but the later celebrations often grated on his nerves, especially when he was hungry for sweets.

[Liselle Vampyler Sapientia]

As Liselle stepped through the portal, she noted the Ancient Allarians standing there, welcoming them back. Blinking her eyes a bit, she took a step back, just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. They certainly hadn’t been there when she fell through the portal…

Or had they?

Simply, she didn’t know. She had been the first into the portal…and had been a little busy falling from the sky to notice what happened. Strangely enough though, even having witnessed what Constantine had gone through…the transformation…she wasn’t scared of them. Curious more then anything…but then again, she was a creature of curiosity…a trait often given away in her brilliant sapphire gaze.

Standing there, beaten, bruised and burned…and definitely showing signs of wear, Liselle considered the situation. Laying her hand on the hilt of her sword, she let it relax there as was common for her to do, looking down at the shirt that the ship had produced for her. Strange thing it was, conforming perfectly to her form. She would have to ask someone about it soon enough.

Questions had been asked and despite the fact that she had no working knowledge of a good many details regarding their ordeal, there –were- a few things she could speak to.

Waiting until Odyelon was finished, she nodded to him and answered the questions best she could.

“Liselle…the description given is correct, although I have very little knowledge of arcana…so I can’t speak to that. Mistress Fire vanished…Kane was shot out of the sky and is dead, I believe…and Constantine vanished…somehow. “

That’s all she could really add. Unfortunately, the adrenaline was wearing off from the events of earlier and her burns were becoming painful again. Making a soft hissing noise, she gently moved the shirt aside at the shoulder to check on said burns and figure out if they needed assistance.

[Milo L'Evienne]

The history lesson was fascinating, lessons in the future more so. Accelerated learning at its finest and Milo might’ve been far more amenable to studying every minute detail for future reference, if not for the dizzying, in fact nauseating effects of its rapid presentation.

How long had it been since he’d shared Rosyun with Nellie and the children and she’d seen him off at the docks with a plea in her eyes not to go looking for trouble if he could avoid it? He’d lost track of time frankly, but long enough anyway. But if he’d had anything in his stomach when stepping through that gateway back into the present, he’d definitely have thrown up on somebody’s shoes. As it was, he only emerged looking a little green around the gills, not unlike his typical pallor over the course of any given journey by sea without the aid of Mrs. Dandybrale’s handy cure.

All the better then to let Odyleon do the honors of filling in their remarkable hosts on what had occurred in their absence while he reacquainted himself with solid ground and took in their surroundings in quiet wonder. They’d been busy in seemed. And there was an extra Aelyrian he thought, though he’d not taken the time for a proper head count previously so he’d be hard pressed to swear on it.

But as for Odyleon’s account and Liselle's clarification, he merely nodded his agreement with the mage’s story and that all who’d passed through previously had returned unharmed, and him similarly not inclined to mention a select few of the details right at the moment. Still, something had caught his attention and once he felt recovered sufficiently to avoid embarrassing himself with the after affects of what had amounted to a brief bout of seasickness, he asked, ”Altered, in what way?” Of course no mortals could have endured what they just had he didn't think and emerge unchanged in some fundamental way. But still, he was curious as to the particulars.

[Veleraen]

The Titan knight was the next to flow out of the portal behind Odyleon, Milo and the others. His large frame exited out of the flowing ring of energy and immediately he blinked his eyes as he watched the Aelyrians upon the Isle, specifically the ones that were standing there in front of the group of adventurers.

Approaching with a few weighted steps, he stood behind Milo and Odyleon looked upon the winged people with curiousity. Had they come to reclaim their place in this world? Or were they only here to see that the future had 'righted' itself?

Keeping track of time had become more than just a meanial task for the Giant as he stood there, weapon in hand, Hakan his bond mate upon his shoulder. The Ancient Aelyrians welcomed them with open arms, something Veleraen hadn't exactly expected. They surely could have ruined the future for all the Giant knew but nothing had clicked, at least nothing yet, to show that something drastic had occurred from them meddling in the past.

One of them, the Aelyrian Praelarctus as he called himself, sensed that they had arrived slightly altered which was mirrored by a response from Milo as to how exactly they had been altered. Veleraen hadn't spoken, only observed since he arrived but he felt the need to raise his concerns along with Milo.

"Yes, please, tell us, how have we been 'altered'? Is this...something we should be worried about?" His deep voice was tired, tired of meddling in affairs that were not his to meddle in and all he wanted to do now was go back home and eat a hot meal. Fate had brought them upon this mountain top, only to watch an entire city get destroyed and eventually abandon all hope. Whether Odyleon had succeeded, well, Veleraen couldn't be sure at all. He wasn't a mage, he had no idea of these things worked nor could he even imagine how any of these arcanic foundations functioned. He could only stand by and watch as he was now being confronted with another possible problem with his health.

Veleraen prayed to Aslan that the past had left them with a curse or some sort of 'arcanic' infection. This was surely the one reason why the Giant despised mages in the first place.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Almost as if he was locked in a perpetual dream, the series of transitioning images flitted across his vision, blurred by the accelerated pace of the ephemeral scenes. Standing alongside his companions, the Prince of Har’oloth stared in pure amazement as eras, patterns, and centuries elapsed at a time. Nothing could justify the experience, but it was explained by the Temporal Rift by which the travelers had come to witness the phenomenon. None of them spoke. None of them had any words. And like the eternal winds that flowed from one paradigm to the next, the weathered entourage was returned back home.

The sight of the winged Aelyrians was unsettling, and the Vysstichi Prince instinctively shifted at the waist, a subtle maneuver that positioned Soulseeker within easy reach of his fingers. His silver brows, crowning his crimson orbs, narrowed slightly as the falchion-armed creature ominously approached. Fortunately, one of the older Aelyrians stilled his comrade’s hand, and thus Faust slowly lowered his and holstered it along his sword belt.

Shifting his interest to the one called Auron, the dark elf spared him his undivided attention. The crowned being’s words elicited a number of questions in the Prince’s mind, but he withheld them as Liselle, the Imperial Regent, and Veleraen presented theirs before him. The giant’s inquiry in particular was cause for alarm, and the dark elf subsequently bit his lower lip in anxiety. Too much had ridden upon their ability to effect the past, or rather, to shape it so that the future as they knew it would come to fruition. There had been too many possibilities for error, for something to go wrong and yield an inevitable chain of unanticipated events.

Reflexively reaching up to stroke the sides of the medallion draped around his neck, the Vysstichi pursed his lips and waited for the group’s questions to be answered. Was the Empire as they knew it no longer extant? Perhaps it was plagued by demons from abyss. Such a scenario would certainly justify the return of the Ancient Aelyrians. Why else would they have returned in mass and with blazing weaponry and gleaming armor? Even for one who’d lived a century of life already, these thoughts were too great for the Prince to comprehend.

He feared for Har’oloth. He feared for his brothers-in-arms. He feared for House D’Rinishad. Only able to hope that all of them were safe, the dark elf winced nervously. The fact that their group was being welcomed with open arms was indicative of ‘some’ prospective success, but it definitely confirmed an altered future as well. The Ancient Aelyrians had shone the party no amiability upon their initial encounter. What was the cause of their supplanted demeanors? Faust didn’t know, but he was confident that they would find out soon enough.

[Parreyon Syndicus]

Parreyon was one of last to come through the portal. Godah and Atl were behind him that he could remember but everything transpired so fast, he could be mistaken on who came through and who had yet to. He still wondered the impact of why he was thrust into the time portal or more over why fate had drawn him to it. He was confident that it was probably something he would not know the answer too for quite some time. Patience was something the katta did have.

The three Ancient Aelyrians stood before him, two he recognized from before he'd ported and the third he did not. Parreyon's immediate thought went to imagining if these guys were really cyraxians also. He knew nothing of aencient aelyrians or cyraxians and was now firm in his belief that anything was possible. The elder aelyrian spoke and questions came up from those present about the talisman and being altered. It kept him from having to ask, but he was curious as to why the entirety of their trip was not given. He was asked an honest question and felt an honest answer need by given.

"Praelarctus Auron of Ikerael, I do not know well enough the history of this realm but can state my opinion on what I saw. I agree with what has been said thus far but would like to add that Empress Fyre made enough reference and displayed enough power that she might have been Haya herself. And I know nothing of Constantine save he was depicted in history as a great Aelyrian, but he looked like like a cyraxian assuming campfire stories have any accuracy to them at all. He pulled the last of his feathers to open the portal for our return and was supressed, along with 'Haya' inside the aethergem until it had reshattered later in history.

I myself entered the realm of dreams and observed Archprelate Maximilian take his own life by poison and the people overtake the Kremlin raising the Aelyrian Banner and the Cossacks mounting and heading into the city to the west gates. I know not what this means only that I was able to be there to observe all of this from the dream realm."

Parreyon asked no questions but instead pulled out the shards he held from the fracturing of the eathercrown and used his other hand to rub the medallion around his neck. What connection did the two have. The crown had been a key of sorts to the aethergem which no longer functioned and the medallion also held links to the dead stone. He wished he had understood arcana more so than he did now and maybe all of this might make a little more sense. This pushed him to want to seek his adept level of mysticism more than ever.

[Godah]

Godah stepped through the swirling light and his paw rested on the present floor. His entire body was stained with dust, his fur was burnt in places and soaked on others and his grey shade turned into a more dark complexion.

The air brushed his nostrils bringing the memory of the scents he kept in his mind. He almost recognised all of those who stood there from their perfume, except for two or three persons. The dorin moved forward, almost ignoring what the winged folk were saying. He was still confused and lost, rage building within him. It was all a play where he had the minor role, that of a tricked one.

Whatever had happened in the past, the dorin knew that he did his duty, keeping an eyes on every one and being present to keep the knowledge. It didn't matter if he did help or not but he was present and could report every fact to the Ebon Watch. Information was vital if one wanted to protect the empire. One information was of highest importance to Godah: The monarchs of the empire were not to be trusted and their legacy might not benefit the people of the empire. It was time to severe the ties with a fictional past, a mythology of glory.

[Kaelon]

As the adventurers gathered upon the top of Mount Corona, concluding their passage through time, it became clearer to each of them where they were, but not exactly when they were. Though they had returned to everything and everyone where they had left it, beyond the Isle of the Crown, in the skies above, they could see clouds swirling about and bright flashes of light locked within nimbus pockets. Odyleon could sense what Wessex had already known when summoned by the Ancients: that Insula Coronae was trapped in time, isolated in space. The air that they breathed was infused with magic, the nature around them -- a sentient chaos that was being tamed by the avatars of order -- was not of the reality that the adventurers had known. The Isle of the Crown was caught in a sea of energy, and it was no longer tethered irrefutably to the Material Plane.

Auron nodded as the adventurers moved forward. A strange and surreal serenity crossing his brow. The Aelyrian was elegant and majestic; his crown was simple and austere a utop dirty salt and pepper, thinning and lightly balding brow. His eyes glistened with a golden shimmer in a sea of azure, speaking countless mysteries within their eternal gaze. His tunic was dark violet, a rich and royal purple, embroidered with runes of golden thread, bound in black pantaloons and leather hide boots. Around his shoulders rest a warming crimson cloak trimmed with white down. There was no doubt that this Aelyrian, the Praelarctus of Ikerael as he had introduced himself, was a King among his people.


Wessex

As he faced the adventurers, Auron turned back to look at Wessex. His eyes flickered briefly, almost as if to reach out in panic and hope. Was he doing the right thing, trusting these people of the land? Was it all right to speak to them frankly? Wessex heard the voice of the Praelarctus in his head, echoing through the ancient telepathy of the Aelyrians that he himself had not heard in ages.

"I summoned you here," he glyphed, "because you lived among them for so long, and served under the Son of Retax. You know them better than any of us do, and so your presence here is essential for Our guidance." Auron brushed his fingers along his chin, rubbing it gently as he thought privately, and then sent another message to Wessex. "You are all that remains of our Once Great Race, before it transcended. We will need you by Our side in the days and weeks to come, if Our offer is acceptable to them."

Auron turned and then faced the adventurers before him, addressing them one by one.


Odyleon

The Praelarctus listened carefully to Odyleon's words, but the Master Mystic could feel the gentle touch of a soft whisper upon the wind grazing his mind and grasping at his soul. The intent of his words, the secrets behind them, he could feel them all slipping away, as Auron nodded and smiled. "You are wise, Psionic," spoke the Aelyrian. "And your power is greater than you can possibly realize, for now. Something that is more, some being beyond this realm, played a hand in your incantations. Mortals are meant to perish under the strain of magic that they are not meant to wield, but you were guided by the Hands of the Gods."

Auron walked towards Odyleon, his arms outstretched in gesture, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. He raised his voice, unafraid of what others would hear. "What you saw in the Son of Retax," he continued, "is something that both plagues and perfects us all. Without the Darkness, there can be no Light. And it is closest to the Shadow that the Brightness glimmers more splendidly. We learned this all too late. Those who remained behind were afflicted with an imperfection that stole sense and ruled reason. Today, trust Us when We say, We are the Masters of Our Fate." Even Odyleon didn't need magic to realize that, while there was truth in what Auronw as saying, it was not the whole truth, but the frankness of the Praelarctus had to be at least comforting on a certain level.

"In your case, Master Mage," said Auron, "a new chapter in your life is opening. Your very magic has been touched by time, and while mortals are typically forced to be ruled by the cruel dictates of Fate, you are destined to be a part of it." The Praelarctus brought his hands together, and between his palms, a soft glowing sphere emerged. As Odyleon looked into it, his vision was overcome by a single powerful flash of light, and then a series of rushed visions: the dark blackness of the sea, the horizon from which the suns rise, and a series of islands shaped like serpents, with a single glowing brightness at their core. "Uncover the mystery of this vision," said Auron, "for it is all that now holds you back from unlocking your full potential, and it is there where you shall meet your Destiny." As Odyleon's vision cleared, he could sense his own power had grown from the experience. Something was different -- something had been touched by time itself. When he would next try to meditate, Odyleon would sense the stream of power from the Plane of Time, allowing him to imbue his spells with both Temporal Energy as well as Psionic Energy, without the need for reagents. But even the Master Mystic knew that he was now dealing with powers that he did not understand and could not hope to control until he first confronted the mystery now set before him.

"In this, Odyleon, know that We can only be your allies, and not your answer-givers," concluded Auron. "Your Destiny lies elsewhere. Your power is beyond our abilities to guide it. You are a Time-Mage, a Tempomancer, and your very will can shape History if you learn how to master it. And with such mastery undoubtedly shall come the power to rule your magic as only Archmages can."

Odyleon Rewards: Odyleon has earned 3 Experience Points in Mysticism. Odyleon's Secrets of Foreight have been updated.

Liselle Vampyler Sapientia

Auron then turned to Liselle, and bowed his head. When she mentioned her name, she somehow knew already that the Praelarctus had divined her identity. Whether it was by reading her mind the way that he had touched Odyleon's, or by piercing the veil of reality with his power, Auron merely smiled when she began to speak. But when she explained, thrust in the adrenaline of what had just happened, Auron raised a finger to provide some clarity.

"What you witnessed was one of Time's Mysteries," said the Aelyrian, "and like any of the Secrets of Time, only Foresight can shed Light upon them. The Son of Retax has always had a flair for the dramatic, for he was possessed by the great soul of the burdens of our people. And yet, for the first time in his existence, he perhaps acted truly selflessly in purchasing that precious commodity for this Material Plane. Time. For with the time that he bought, the Aethergem was able to postpone its fracture by centuries, but as Odyleon may already know, he was always destined to have gone back to cause the Aetherfracture, and the Aethergem was always destined to break and shatter, causing the downfall of all that you knew, but setting forth the foundations of all that is to come."

Auron moved a hand over Liselle's body and paused at the hilt of her sword. "This blade has been touched by Time," said the monarch, and as he spoke, the edges of the longsword that Liselle had brought through time and back began to shimmer, yielding to the reality that the Aelyrian was willing upon it. "And only Time will reveal its secrets to you. But know that your bravery and perseverence have blessed it with an affinity for only your hand. Its true power can only be wielded by she to whom it has been attuned. And its true power can with no doubt be to strike through Time, mastering Time as its own essence." Auron bowed his head in reverence.

Liselle Rewards: Liselle has earned 2 Experience Points in Longsword. Liselle's Secrets of Foresight have been updated.

Veleraen

Auron chuckled when the Giant seemed concerned about his alteration. The Aelyrian turned to him quickly, so as to abate his concerns and fears. "Anyone who travels through Time, the way that you have, Sir Giant," said the Praelarctus, "are bound to be touched by its influence. For some, it leaves a mark on their soul, and for others, it alters irrevocably their possessions, usually the ones that have been attuned to their spirit through training and perseverence. In your case, your breastplate has been ... hastened." As Auron moved a hand over the ruby stone triangle pointing downwards worn by the Giant, it began to glow a bright red but it was outlined by a seagreen shimmer of light.

"Using this power, like any power touched by time, will require patience and focus," said Auron, "but contending with your size should no longer weigh down your spirit. Gird thyself, and prepare for battle, for when you do, and your soul is true, not even your greatest foes can escape your charge." Auron bowed his head.

Veleraen Rewards: Veleraen has earned 2 Experience Points in CombatMay Be Applied to Any Combat Skill.. Veleraen's Secrets of Foresight have been updated.

Faust D'Rinishad

Faust's dreamstate was blurred and broken as he began to see the elder Aelyrian approaching him. As he touched the deadened medallion, the Prince of Har'oloth could feel the gaze of the Winged One and for the first time, knew not the intense prejudices of a people who despised the Vysstichi, but instead a sincere gratitude for his presence and work. As he thought aloud his thoughts and fears, Auron seemed to hear them through his aching heart that mourned for Har'oloth and his brothers-in-arms.

"The Empire is no more," said Auron, coldly. "The Aethergem that once made it whole has been shattered, and the one anchor that could have saved it, is forever broken." The Aelyrian turned back to Wessex, whose gaze was on the glittering remenants of the Aethercrown. "Yet endings are but the beginnings of something new, and even in the greatest Darkness, my friend, there is a new Brightening on the horizon." He smiled and the Praelarctus closed his eyes and tried to gaug