Spatial EXTRA 4

She saw the Drakan leave, and she knew she would tell someone, but if she were being honest this was more than what she expected. Whether they were here already or not she didn't know. Nor did it truly matter.

She knew Taiga, Knossos, even the brown-haired man she had seen before, including the one who spoke last. She looked to Taiga, the one who had just slain his father.

 "What's so special about the Dragon..? As for that.... try to catch me dog-boy."

It was nothing but a mere hope not to slip away, but to occupy at least one of them though if she did slip away, it would let her get backup. She couldn't do much else beyond that at the moment, for any of them.
(Jessi Ultovex)

"It's an abomination." Taiga states simply.

"I will see it slain, or returned to normalcy. There is no alternative. Skadi, Akizar, Rygalis - the ancients I've spoken to... they would be revolted to see their children massacred and warped, tainted by the void for Sors sick desires." Taiga reaches out into empty air and grabs upon the hilt of a blade that does not exist yet. He steps forward, and a massive arcanium weapon shimmers into reality, green mana humming as a portal opens - Taiga grabbing onto the blade.

"Dawn has taken too much.

The debt will be repaid. I cannot speak for Levengard. I cannot speak for the demi-angels. I cannot speak for the kindness, or mercy that they preach." Taiga looks around them now. "You may run. You may hide. But I would much suggest you face the fate you've woven for yourself, and move out to the snow fields.

Or surrender peacefully, while you still have that luxury."
(Taiga Rowan)

--- A bunch of arguing and negotiating. Eventually me and Laemor decide 'Fuck these guys.' ---

"Declan, I'm sorry, but. . . There is no path we can walk down. That won't lead to lives lost, on both sides. . ." The fox knew this all too well, he lost two brothers to the conflict between Dawn and Huang.

How many more would he be forced to endure before it all came to an end? And for the most part, the fox wasn't going to trail behind in this race against time. Rather, he reveled at the speeds in-which brought him ahead of most, in such a short time. . .

"It's here, now. We make impact. . . Fight or stand down." He called out to the group of Dawnsmen, drawing Masamune out from its sheath. Sapphire flames licking the surface of the obsidian blade.

Illuminating the cave beneath an array of colors reflect off its surface. "See. . . It's also the fact Dawn exist that people like.Kaumi were killed, even if the man who'd done it is dead. . . Nothing can change the past, nor the future to come.

All we can do is remain stead-fast. This is what it means to press on!" He howled before allowing the mana kept him to swallow him whole. Erupting from his form were the might of Ifrits claw, intense flames hardly finding themselves calmed by the blemish of scolding heats. Peeling away at the foxes back, spreading fourth in the shape of wings. . .

"Ready yourselves!"

A sudden cry that broke apart any chance of resolution being sought by talk.
(Laemor)


"I'm not willing to let them go, Declan.

I don't negotiate with the scum I slaughter. I did not give the hundred or more men I've cleaned off of Dawns streets the chance to debate with me the ethics of their deaths. How can I afford these people that luxury, when they've done so much more? I would be a hypocrite." Taiga had already drawn his blade, and he levels it straight at the enemy.

His gleaming crimson eyes explode with a vibrant, all consuming light - and every source of shadow in the cave all stretches and warps under his command. A complete and utter blackout, save for the raging fires of Laemor and Taiga's own eyes.

"I made a promise to the one I love. I aim to keep it, consequences be damned. They've taken too much to go unpunished!" Taiga roars, and as Laemor charges into battle, Taiga is right behind. They had tried to resolve things peacefully before, but it had never worked - what hope did they have to talk things out now with what he saw a city of lunatic murderers? Every word they spoke could be lies, as far as he knew.

More than that... despite it all... Taiga was absolutely bloodthirsty for any form of revenge. To make his mark, to tear apart the ones that had hurt and corrupted the young children he was sworn to protect. The adrenaline pumping through his veins was only further enhanced by the beast that lay beneath his skin. That beast would feast tonight.
(Taiga Rowan)

Jessi fled. Ascalon stayed. Kyla.. Kept talking.

It grated on their nerves. Needles prodded like broken glass beneath their scales. There was, for a moment, the will to push back. To fight against its chains, just because it could. But the pain drove it forward. Like a sharp kick to the side to spur on an unwilling steed.

The voidling ducked Laemor's charge. They let him chase down the Ultovex warden, before putting itself between Taiga and the caverns beyond. Blocking off the ability to follow them out. Around it those pitch-dark fires raged, giving off light despite their nature.

Somehow..

Not that this mattered. It was a minute detail against what else occurred. Those cerulean manacles came into sharper focus, rather than the hazy blue they'd been. And in between each links of interlocking lines flashed. Like circuitry on its own accord.

In the spare few moments it had before the first strike was made, it gathered its focus. Its wings stretched out to either side behind it, and all that mana turned foul. Corrupt tones of sunset sky, the deep oranges, reds, and purples of occult energy.

And the thing took the first strike head-on.

Why became apparent immediately, as ripples of fear and hatred radiated across the air. As occultism flared in his own circuits, in a similar location to where he had struck against the voidling. Pain, reflected back.

The lines dropped and flickered out after the first blow, however. And the thing only just pulled away from what would likely be the next before it could land. Success, but only just. For a moment.

Whether that would continue was yet to be seen.

It started, however, by sending waves of flame in every direction. Scorching the earth, and filling the caverns with smoke. Smoke, and its own particular brand of dragon-breath. A plagued green haze. It's only words, in response to all he'd said-

"Must.. Obey."
(Mertaisyl)

Taiga was tunnel visioned on one target in particular. The tainted void dragon. The ancient that had been slain, ripped apart, torn to shreds and pieced back together for Sors' sick, twisted desires. In this darkened cave, Taiga could see clear as day, rushing forward at full force. Mertaisyl stretches its wings, leaving it open.

A clawed hand slams right into its throat, diving headfirst into that darkness. Nothing about this was right. Dawn could say that it was their pride and joy to have so thoroughly desecrated a corpse, but Taiga saw through to the prideful Dragon that had been warped into yet another one of Sors' underlings. After having talked with more ancients than nearly any man, mortal or otherwise, the idea of one of them becoming this enraged Taiga.

The flames explode outward, but Taiga does not relent. The grip does not loosen in the least bit, even as Taiga is consumed in an inferno of pitch blackflames, he rushes forward. Dragging the voidlings face against the caverns walls as he rushes forward towards the light of outside.

"This!"

Taiga is scratched, blood sprays - and he HURLS the voidling into the open air, the battle erupting out of the caves and into the snowy fields north of Dawn. Taiga is quick to follow, emerging out of a portal not by a second later.

"Is for... your own good. When you're back at Levengard ...I'll see to it that you're loved. Cared for. Not the plaything of some mad emperor. Free to be with your own kind. ...But those words are wasted on you, as you are. I might as well be speaking to myself... no?" Taiga hisses low, readying his blade.

"I'll make this swift."
(Taiga Rowan)

No second strike came. Not immediately. As he dragged the thing along through the caverns it clawed and scratched toward him. Struggling to free itself from the physical grasp. This creature was no physical fighter, it could not easily break his hold.

But all the while, where his hand met its throat, where its body scraped against the walls, occultism flared over its form. It filtered into his circuits, sharing the pain he dealt to it. Forcing it back unto him, as best it could manage. Keeping focus on the under-developed technique was difficult throughout- And it faded, when at last they were free.

When at last he hurled the creature away.

Not quite perfect, but the thing was getting better. With the rush of adrenaline, the anger that he would dare attack it with intent to harm, the fear that perhaps it wasn't strong enough yet. It beat back and away into the air on leathery wings, trailing smoke and flame. Trailing plague and mana.

It put a distance between them, and turned. There it hovered in air, for a few moments. Taking the time to listen to him, to hear his words. But his words proved accurate enough. There was no response, save the gathering of cerulean light.

Clouds of mana drifted around its form. Coalescing, clinging tight to its body. Joining the flames. It dove down again, wings angled forth, cerulean light rolled behind itself in a wall. A rolling wave. One that it set alight, mid-way down, to send against him and force him backward.

Snow turned to steam in an instant. The fields grew black and filled with fire, smoke filled the air. And among the flames it danced, dodging in and out, back and forth. It only narrowly escaped some of his strikes, and when it took that blade it felt itself stutter. Its life force tugged upon by his capabilities.

But narrow as those escapes were, they added up.

It built up flame and poured them out. It sent chainsof cerulean to hinder him, and blasts of occultism to strike fear and pain into his heart. Searing into his circuits.

One more narrow escape sent it flying into the air again. Away from his reach for a breather, to regather itself while he did the same from that missed strike. It gathered a deep breath, and angled its wings downward again. On its breath came the same two words.

"Must. Obey."
(Mertaisyl)

This was proving to be far more difficult than he imagined. Any modicum of restraint he exercised against Mertaisyl was washed away in an inferno of pitch black flames, the snow melting beneath their feet as the land was completely and wholly scorched by the Dragons magic. For his part, Taiga was fighting with a certain measured grace - trying desperately to not clip the wings of the voidling before its time. He was under the distinct impression that if he returned a butchered whelp to Levengard, it'd only draw the ire of his love. But such a mercy wouldn't be shared by the Dragon, not in the slightest. Claws and fire intermingling to ravage Taiga's body.

A massive attack levied against him, and Taiga is sent flying backwards. He could feel that burn of occultism and void-taint down to his circuits. It wasn't necessarily an all too unfamiliar feeling, though. He had been battling against users of similar magic for years now... but to compare a humans magic to a Dragons flame was something reserved only for the fools of the world. Those who didn't understand - or just couldn't - until they were engulfed in those flames personally.

Taiga is laid out in the dirt. A smoldering wreck of a man, staring up at the stars and wondering, for a moment, what the fuck he did to get here. A samurai, huh? A bodyguard, huh? Now here he was, out in the middle of the frigid north fighting a void-tainted Dragon for the sake of his husbands dream.

It's that dream which gives him a resurgence of power.

It was time to stop holding back. Taiga takes a moment, breathing deep -- and adrenaline shoots through his veins. A second wind called upon by the beast within, his measured restraint completely falling to bestial instinct. Taiga peels himself off the ground, lurching upright.

The massive arcanium weapon in his hands shoots forward at incredibly speed, thrown like a javelin straight for Mertaisyl. Easy enough to dodge -- but moments before impact, Taiga suddenly appears out from a portal! Grasping the weapon out of the air, in a magnificent twirl he scores a bloody line across the Dragons back!

Those close misses weren't going to be something that he'd let happen anymore. The full power of Taiga's Wayfinding and swordsmanship unleashed. The blood in his veins reaching a boiling point, as Taiga fought to take down Mertaisyl by any means necessary.

The voidling receives no more kind words. No more promises of mercy. Only a loud, animal like roar.
(Taiga Rowan)

Without restraint, Taiga is an unstoppable monster.

For once in their life, Mertaisyl would feel the fear instilled in ones heart when facing an apex predator.

Taiga did not register as a human to the voidlings senses. There was no way - an impossible gap between him and humanity, one that could be blurred and paved over in his more casual state, but here on the fields of battle that difference became impossible to erase.

But there is that blend. That fusion, that makes him even stranger. For how could a beast master the art of Wayfinding as he did now? How could a true animal so seamlessly blend between such a complicated magic and such wild strikes? Taiga's method of assault was unpredictable and fierce.

His blade wasn't just swung, it was tossed. Twirled through the air and thrown free from his hands more often than it lay in his grasp for simple, basic strikes. Taiga constantly warped around the battlefield, catching up to his own weapon and making it almost impossible to follow his movements. If Mertaisyl took their eyes off of him for a second, he would already be sending his blade hurtling forward with a portal opening up right behind to strike.

Taiga lands a final, devastating strike, his foot CRASHING into Mertaisyl's back and sending them rocketing to the dirt. The ground cracks and rips apart, a crater forming at the point of impact.

He lands, blade resting against his shoulder, those gleaming crimson eyes looming over them.

"You should understand now. This isn't a battle you can win. Sors will force you to fight until last shred of skin has been stripped from your bone. If you can understand me... surrender."
(Taiga Rowan)

What could strike fear into the heart of insanity?

Flashing over the field. There one moment and gone the next. Reflective crystalline eyes incapable of following each motion. His blade flew. Cutting through frigid air, twirling on howling winds. Smoke clung low to the ground. Twisting. Twisting..

Mertaisyl couldn't keep up. They coiled 'round and 'round and 'round trying to track him. Trying to land those waves of flame, trying to hinder him with those cerulean chains. To keep. Him. STILL.

But the voidling couldn't keep up. It was strong, but it was far outclassed by a master of such techniques. The thing had met with them before. Riftmancers, rather than wayfinders, but under a similar premise. It knew how fast they were. How easily they escaped its flames.

Yet still it fought. It pulled in its attacks. Coiled up in the field, slowing down, filling the fields with waves of fire. Trying to put obstacles between him and itself. To keep him away and force him to cross the fires- Only moving when he got too close.

Dodging up into the air on the down-beat of massive wings, only to be met with his blade yet again. Striking it down from the sky, to impact the ground with a shockwave of flames and mana. Wings splayed out to either side. Yet again it knew the taste of dirt.

For a few moments it lie there.

Its reflective green eyes peered up from the ground. How familiar it was, to be put down like this. Usually, though, it was the sound of chains that heralded it. Or the feel of an occultic presence.

Hesitance. Perhaps. But the whispers rose again. The faint clatter of chains resounded as it picked itself up off the ground. Its wings still drooped, its head low. Its shoulders arched. From between its teeth the virulent plague drifted. It shook its head. Shook it again. With each motion a clatter.

Flames flickered to life again.

It drew its head back, as emotionless as before.

And two words were its only response.

"Must. Obey."

Apparently.. not him.
(Mertaisyl)

Their final clash echoes through the wilderness, blade and claw meeting again and again. Mertaisyl had an undying loyalty to the master that which heralded its return from the grave, resistant to the fear that had been struck in so many hearts. Even when buried into the dirt, it kept coming. Even when torn apart by Taiga's bladework, it marched forward with a tenacity that Taiga hadn't anticipated.

No chains would be enough to bind Taiga, however. No fire would be enough to burn him to ash, and no claw would rend his flesh beyond repair. Taiga was a beast of equal measure in every way - and a man of impeccable talent in combat. With all of that leveraged against him... Mertaisyl could fight, but it would not be a battle that they could win.

But perhaps, at the very least, it would be a battle they could live from.

The final blows are cast.

Taiga sends himself hurtling forward, the last of his mana expended in an attempt to clip the wings of the Dragon, to give them no hope of escape. The earth splits, torn apart in the wake of Taiga's advancement, the distance between them seemingly erased entirely in a fraction of a second.

Mertaisyl would be sent skyward, a devastating strike landing against the underside of the voidlings scales. Tearing upward in a bloody line, the momentum carrying them off the ground and sent hurtling away. Taiga curses, hissing beneath his breath.

He leaps off after his prey -- but his mana wanes thin. Another portal might be enough to take her down, but the amount he had used thus far on the incredibly draining Wayfinding arts made it impossible to form another portal. So he flies. Wings of pure, unfiltered shadow sprouting from his shoulders in a thousand feathers of twilight.

But a contest of airspeed was exactly what Mertaisyl needed. Dawn was only a short fly away, and with the distance between them, Mertaisyl had the advantage. If Mertaisyl hadn't learned the proper way to fly yet... it was sink or soar, their life on their line.
(Taiga Rowan)