visage of the past

Her gaze never left the form of her Mother floating overhead, even as starlight and the occult rained down on her. It was a desperate uphill struggle, and the younger Astor knew that. She understood that. But that didn't mean she'd simply roll over and let that figure of her supposed Mother heckle her.

Or try to take her under her wing - whatever it was that she meant by that.

"I don't have a limitation on myself. That's where you're wrong. I know my own code is just and proper, and you aren't FREE!" She suddenly shouted out, desperation ringing her tone. "You're a slave to that vice, to that sin. To whatever spell those Witches did to bring you back and shackle you in this realm."

"Whatever spell they performed to drag you out of your heaven back down to here."

Anastasia's gun was lifted once more, the younger girl taking a far more steadier aim now than she had before. Conviction laid within her very soul, her being. Emerald gaze closed only once and with it followed a deep inhale.

She'd let Alph guide her hand.
She wouldn't aim with her hand.
She'd aim with her eye.

She wouldn't shoot with her hand.
She'd shoot with her mind.

She wouldn't kill with her gun.
She'd kill with her heart.
(Anastasia ven Astor)

The words of Anastasia were heard, painfully recognized, but they would never break through that Sin of Pride. Serea believed herself infallible, without err, there was none greater than herself to rule all of Esshar.

However wrong she might be- it did not matter.

"Foolish child."

Serea tsked, before descending upon the form of her daughter once again. Unleashing a flurry of slashes with her blade, as starfire rained over the entirety of the battlefield.

Every time Anastasia's blade connected, it seemed to simply... faze through Serea. A being made of shadows, though that couldn't be possible, could it?

"You will learn in time that I am right. I'll always be part of you, my daughter. The darkness which lays beneath the surface, I can feel it. It festers within, yet you suppress it."

Pride. Even if Anastasia didn't fully realize it, she held similarities to her mother. However deep it might be, Serea intended to draw upon her negative qualities.

"Give into your vice, it shackles you, restricts you. There is strength to be found in Sin, to be found in the darkness."

Without another word, Serea dashed forwards, a blast of occultism sending Anastasia back. While she wasn't seriously injured, the arrival of Queen Marzipan drew Serea's attention away.

"My, my."

Giving Anastasia the opportunity to flee.
(Serea Astor)

Click, click, click. Heels clatter against the world around her. The gentle rumble of the earth below makes her presence known before others could possibly understand. Regardless though, the woman would find herself beginning to hum slightly in response. "When I thought that I'd be seeing you again...I hadn't imagined that it would be like this." She finds her head beginning to tilt upwards...Her lips pursing ever so slightly. "We've heard Asta's reasoning for coming back...For reaching towards the dark asteroid, but the question that remains is.." Slowly, would the gun be pulled away from her back- her chin lifting, gaze narrowing ever so slightly.


center>"What is your reasoning, Serea?"

Curious. "Did you finally realize how wicked you were in the living to those that were around? Or perhaps...It was your son turning you away that made your heart decide to leap out of the earth and cling to something so...." Her words pause. Her face shows nothing but disdain.

"Disgusting." She sizes the woman up for the moment. The presence of corruption sending shivers down her spine. "...If you think following those witches are the way to prove a point, it's wrong. You're only becoming what everyone thought of you to be."

Vices?
Shackles?

This isn't Serea.
She's far from it.
(Mars)

How quaint.

To encounter Anastasia in such beaten state now that she's been forced to flee by Serea, but.. is it to any surprise? Considering everything, the fact that she even stood up against this doppelganger that carries the power of the meteorite is impressive alone. Already the all-familiar light of Alph flares up..

"Run, child."

"This isn't your fight anymore."

But whether Anastasia would take it or not, his gaze casts upon Pericles and Serea. His gaze visibly furrows.. and it comes about as something unpleasant, something that he wishes he would never have to face - simply because of the fact that the dead have to remain dead. But..

"These aren't even real." That much he knows. It wasn't the fact of the spirits of the old coming back - but merely the mimickry of yet another mimic. At least.. that's what he thinks.

"Or spirits under control. Whatever it is.."

"It's not worth considering what they feel, or how they feel." Is it him being jaded? Ever since betrayal of Tiernay, he's been.. less merciful, less in terms of empathy. Almost as if he knew that stopping this darkness would require them to be beaten back.

"But it's interesting to see them."

"A man who taught me cosmic magic and someone I loathed ever since she decided to do what she did to Tea."

The flare of cosmic magic is all too evident. The visage of Sin, of Occult magic.. while he acknowledges what Dax said-

It does not intimidate him. Why would it? He's born to fight this darkness as a Rhoynish. It's the duty bestowed upon him by Njorun.

"Beating you won't be same as beating real Serea."

"But this will have to do."
(Basil)

Anastasia knew she was in the right; her heart and her soul was in the right and she felt steadfast regarding it. Not only that? But the guidance from Alph itself helped her understand it.

Helped her knew it was her Mother who was in the wrong.

"I'm not foolish!" She shouted, even as Serea's form descended upon her. The flurry of slashes against her no doubt drew blood, cuts and slashes against her arms, tearing into her coat to stain it red. Her own attacks just did...

Absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.

They connected with nothing but shadows and it caused the Astor to release a dissatisfied groan, even ignoring the pain and the anguish that came with encountering her Mother, of all people.

"... I'm not - like you!" She countered now, stumbling back. "I don't have darkness in me. I..."

There was a deep inhale.

"I am Anastasia ven Astor. I am nothing like you, a malevolent spirit who has shackled the soul of my Mother in it's vessel to be used by a group of craven slaves to a Lord that wishes nothing but destruction!" She shouted.

Even in the amount of pain she was in, both mentally, emotionally and even physically, that light of Alph itself shined through regardless.

"... I'm stronger than you, just by the fact you rely on that darkness. It's a crutch--"

The wave of pure Occultism drives her back, closer to Mars and Basil but even still she doesn't relent.

"It's a crutch because you're weak without it! You've forgotten your honor, and your DUTY!"

Yet, it's the words of the two behind her that draws her attention away temporarily, realizing they intended upon combatting the woman known as Serea Astor then and there. There's a glance paid to Yoshiko with a subtle nod. The intention is clear.

She had to flee now if she wanted to escape the potential grasp of her Mother. Even if she didn't want to, and she wanted to free Serea herself, the Astor was at least trained enough to recognize an unwinnable situation when she was in one.
(Anastasia ven Astor)

The battle the pair over with Pericles moved to get closer, familiar faces revealing themselves from the forest as he allowed a smile to appear across his lips.

"Basil, Mars."

A duo that he had taught so long ago, that bond cut due to their beliefs within different matters. It was amusing that they would be the first people he would run into after the ritual.

Pericles's lips parted to slip forth a chuckle as the rhoynish man spoke.

"Not real? Do I need to retell the moment I first met you within a church, or perhaps when I watched you foolishly charge towards someone who outclassed you to protect a friend."

His tilted to the side as he allowed words to flow, hand casually dropping to thumb the handle of his blade as he allowed steps to further close the distance between himself and the trio.

"I feel more alive than ever..."

Words trailed as his own magic came into play one the cosmic light enshrouded itself around the couple. Tainted mana flicking off his form to invade the surroundings, depravity itself given form as the smile across his lips further stretched.

His own blade drawn, pulled forth from the sheath as it arced through the air to flick to the side.

"Entertain me Basil, let the two Queens fight one another."
(Pericles Vitalis)

The words of Anastasia are heard, mulled over, but the Serea that stood before her now was far different from the one than before. Much stronger, much more bloodthirsty, and less forgiving than she had been in life.

Her gaze shifts over to her partner- Pericles, before snapping back towards Queen Mars.

"Curious, is it not? You claim yourself to be a Queen, yet you stand before the rightful Queen of Esshar. The greatest this land has ever seen. Should you prostrate yourself before me, give up your crown, perhaps then I shall grant you reprieve."

A wicked grin spread across her features.

"I intend to use this power, this new life to create an Empire the likes of which has never been seen in Eternia before. I will build it upon the remains of your petty Kingdom, of all who resist my reign."

"The witches do not care if I take the title of Queen, nor do my associates. They are simply tools to be used, and not the other way around."

A chuckle escaped Serea's lips, as she once more took flight. Darkened wings spreading, allowing her to remain above the ground.

"A new age is on the horizon, Mars. You have the opportunity to join me, to help me shape this new world. The both of you even, but if you don't?"

Darkness formed and swirled around Serea's form, coating her in a thick, dark cloud. Her blade of starlight breaking through, pointed towards Mars herself.

"I will not show mercy."
(Serea Astor)

"It is nothing more than a self-proclaimed title, Serea." She stays while extending both hands outward, both palms lifted underside to brush along the sun's passionate rays. "Your title...Your very short, wreck of a reign...They were nothing more than stains that left blight in this world." She goes quiet for the moment, the hand of power soon move, drifting to withdraw the rifle away from her back.

"You were never a queen, but what you did possesses...Is something that most leaders wouldn't ever have." Heart. "You put your city before everything else...And that's what I've learned. The only thing that I've learned, actually...From your time being miserable, lost...Hurt by those that you cared for the most."

Regardless, the gun would be lifted within one hand, pointing carefully towards the Astor. The promise of expunging magic is found within the way the barrel begins to unfold briefly...The inner-mechanics clicking repeatedly as she speaks.

"If there is to be a new age...I will not run from it. I think, at this point in time, I'm tired of running. Tired of ignoring what's happening. You speak of Darkness, Serea…So, if you will. Allow me to show you the light that you've missed while being gone."

Already, is the first shot fired. Ensuing the battle between Queens of past and present...And future.
(Mars)

The memories..

It caused him to ponder what exactly the two of them are. Whether they were merely mimics that had implanted memories within them, or perhaps the spirits of the old that managed to manifest in such manner. Although, as much as he remains rather doubtful of their nature..

"What are you, really?"

"A spirit of the past given form, or a mimic given memory?" Already it seems that the weapon is drawn. Whatever the case, he seems rather prepared to face them on, despite the bold bravado both display- and it seems rightfully so, for they bear tainted magic of great power.

But isn't that the mission of the Rhoynish, to overcome?

"At least I had a friend, Pericles. At least I had a family to be concerned for me."

"You? You died in servitude to the place that saw you as nothing but their perfect soldier."

It is far debatable what it is exactly it could be; and yet, his gaze turns towards Serea. Where the tainted light of the stars permeates her form, it is Alph, the Star of Judgment that permeates his.

"And you?"

"You lived a tool, you died a tool - and even in death, you remain a tool, but now for the side you fought before."

"Pathetic."

It is enough of the talk; with the proclamation of no mercy, however, the shot of cosmic starlight is immediately fired towards Pericles- it seems that the Rhoynish King wouldn't wait for any engagements either.

A clash of titans.

Of the old against the new.

"Take them down."
(Basil)

Basil has lost 12 vitality from this battle for three hours.

Pericles Vitalis has sustained an injury in battle...

Pericles Vitalis has rolled 2 or over: they may escape capture attempts (unless otherwise specified)!

The memories of the past.

It is akin to fighting them, but this time, opposed by the darker light of Occultism, by the cleaving shadows that he's all too familiar with after his battle against Tiernay- for while Pericles had known the Basil as a child of the Rhoynur, as a mere bandit that has come such a long way..

What he sees now is very different. Something that nobody would want to see. Something that the legends of the old tell about- the terrifying presence of the Rhoynur that manifests at times of great duress, at times of frenzy and rage..

The golden eyes with murderous intent.
And a blood-chilling war cry.

The legends did not lie. Rhoynish are made to be the guardians against the dark, and Basil fulfilled his duty here well- each strike that he weaves against, every slash of the sword that he dodges, it is rather evident that he's become a powerful magi in many more ways than one.

"Are you entertained now, Pericles?"

Do you see what you made? What you allowed to happen when he taught the cosmic magic to him, back then- for while every single strike against him that causes the Rhoynur to bleed is something that could arguably incapacitate him, one thing is clear..

It doesn't stop Basil.

And where the two of them clash time and time again, Pericles is defeated- pushed to the brink of his might, until he could no longer go. Yet, despite Pericles being pushed away in such manner..

"You're coming with me."

The Rhoynur approaches to grasp upon Pericles. After all..

There's yet to see what would be happening with Mars and her combat.
(Basil)

How the rhoynish teenager from the past had grown into a warrior. Cosmic light constantly looking to strike out against Pericles as he danced around the field, occultic blade arcing out to defend against blows as his smile turned bloodthirsty.

A thrill he rarely had the chance to experience.

And yet, his blade would never truly cleave through flesh, never truly slicing through what he desired, a final block knocking the man backwards to give him ample breathing room.

Defeated.

The final exchange so evidently within the favour of the rhoynish.

"Entertained, very much so Basil. How it warms my heart to see that young aspiring rhoynish teenager to have grown to such a height..."

"...Alas."

Pericles's blade was re-sheathed, magic flickering off to no longer cover the edge with an occultict touch as orbs of esoteric light pierced over towards Basil.

"The fun's over. We can fight another time when I've finally got more use to this style, hm?"

A short smirk, one that held such a condescending look as he pivoted on a heel, shadows beckoning to his will as they melded into Pericles's body to suddenly disappear from view.
(Pericles Vitalis)

The Sin of Pride remained high above the battlefield, swooping down on Mars to deliver precise strikes, blending in and out of shadows. Unlike her fight with Anastasia, Mars was a skilled mage of immense capability.

Every blow connected, tearing through her shadowy form and directly hitting that which lay beneath- a mimic. Clear to those present, to those who were wondering just what they were on the inside.

The spirit of Serea Astor trapped within, consumed by the Sin of Pride and embodying all of her negative qualities.

"I will always be the rightful Queen of Esshar, Mars. As much as you try, you will never be anything close to what I am, for have I ascended. Had you simply prostrated yourself before me- you could have avoided this."

"We could have built a new Empire together. Yet you resist, you cling to this notion that the darkness is bad, that Sin is bad. I am stronger, more alive now than I ever was before."

A wicked grin spread itself across her pale countenance, as she let loose a barrage of starlight, both magnificent and powerful. Darkened by her corruption, just enough to stun Mars. To allow her to-

"All will fall under my reign. You are simply the first to perish by my blade. Feel honored."

Should there not be proper intervention, Serea would attempt to behead the woman, swooping down from above. Blade pointed directly towards the left side of her neck.

Seizing the moment of weakness to extinguish the life of Mars.
(Serea Astor)

Weakness. Found upon the precipice of certain destruction...Where she becomes riddled in nothing more than blood and despair. Where the darkness is found etched upon the tunneling of her vision...Sinking and swimming, going lower and lower...As if all things could potentially lose their light. She is found spiraling towards the end. Where the release is found upon adrenaline. Where laughter...Seems to be coupled with blood drifting past her lips. This corruption, this disease...It lingers within the hearth of her belly and remains...

"..." And yet, she is alive for the moment. Brief, like a flickering candel...Where the spiraling of blood is shown upon armor and cloth, the Felinae remaining limp upon the ground, attempting to push up....To do the most simplest thing.

Get. Up. But she can't. All you have to do is get. up. But this body is so weak and her limbs are so tired- and all she feels is warmth. Is it the sun? Or is it the red pool that looks so similar to her magic spreading out betwixt her fingertips. Odd....


Very odd.


She finds that there is...Some humor in moments such as this. That attempting to do the good thing had led her into a certain despair....Where she finds herself coming to terms with her fate..

It is a glance. A tired one giving to Basil...But certainly, something that she wouldn't dare say to him. 'I'm sorry. I tried'. She'd add before awaiting what would come. To end in the same manner as Ella. To shatter and cease....

In hopes of arising anew once again.
(Mars)

Bloodied.

For while he returns from the fight against Pericles, it is something that could hardly stop the Rhoynur- for it is something that, while he never expected, it came about as both a heartbreak and a shock to him.

To see Mars on the verge of death.

In the moments such as these, he swears he could lose it all. In the moments such as these, he knows that his entire livelihood verges on a single action- on success or failure. No matter what, he cannot allow himself to fall here. No..

Because it wouldn't be just her dying.

It would break him.

"No.."

"NO!"

Like a overheated supernova, he rams against Serea. Not only intending to interrupt the blade that would otherwise behead Mars, but to carry the Pride sin away, to push her with all this might; the distance had to be made as soon as possible. And even then, where Mars remains on the ground.

"YOU WILL NOT."

"YOU WILL NOT KILL HER."

It is almost as if it's the will of cosmos. The will of Alph itself. The rumors speak that in the moments where magi have to face their doom, they're at their peak. But here? It is beyond that. Far, far beyond that..

It is everything or nothing.

And Basil would give all that he has and more.
(Basil)

Serea Astor has been defeated by Basil! They're unable to continue fighting.

A sight that nobody would want to see.

While Pericles was the witness to it just a moment ago, what comes about charging against Serea in the matter most brutal is the manifestation of Njorun's wrath, the spiritual guardian that is always meant to push against this dark. It is almost akin to a howl of the beast- because what comes to beat away at her could hardly be called a man..

Frenzy, hidden behind golden eyes.
A blood-chilling rage, hidden behind every war cry.

Could he even be recognized in those moments? Could he even be called the Rhoynish King that oft made wise decisions for his people, that granted them such prosperity? No, he could not. But.. behind such fury and unfathomable rage at the sight of the loved one that could almost die a moment ago..

There's pain.

So, so much pain.. the impossible heartache that makes it feel as if his heart could burst out of his chest with how much it hurts. Could they not see that they were about to take a part of him? A better part of him.. one that endowed him with wisdom and patience. One that endowed him with the knowledge to be the way he is today- the respected Rhoynish King. And yet..

Oh, how quick he is to revert to his roots..

To tap into this boundless strength that comes with his connection to Njorun; for while Serea skilfully operates her blade, cutting away at Basil, causing him to bleed so much.. what follows is the shocking revelation.

None of it slows him down.

For every stab, he would burn her- for every slash, the starlight would pummel her up close. And it is here that comes about a single word when he has her beneath him on the ground..

Tearing at her away with his bare hands, imbued with flames and starlight.

"DIE!"

A mere moment for her to slip away. The shadows, the night..

Now, or never.
(Basil)

Stronger than she had ever been in life, the Serea before them now was renewed, reborn- given immense strength. The Sin of Pride practically flowing off of her, the greenery and nature around them wilting away as she came in close proximity.

The Serea Astor of before had almost started to see Mars as a daughterly figure, one who she respected. All of that was gone now, however, as she attempted to behead the woman in cold blood.

"Farewe-"

Before she could swing the blade, extinguishing Mars' life, the King himself intervened. Blade locking against fist, though Basil's ferocity was enough to push the Doppelganger back.

As his flames connected, burning her, she let out a screech more loud than potentially anything they ever heard before. A multitude of different voices, disembodied, a yell of anguish.

How dare they resist. They were beneath her, lesser beings that were meant to be used and toyed with. Notto deny her will, not to deny her this righteous kill.

Yet, much to her glee, the burns mended and healed, though she was left spent. Nearly finished off, certainly not capable of fighting anymore. Dissipating into a black shadow.

Her voice rang out- like a cacophony of several hundred eerie voices together.

"This is not the end, but the beginning of something great."

Like a black mist, they were suddenly gone.
(Serea Astor)

"Farewell." It is the moment where the world becomes slowed. The heart, the mind, the body, and soul prepare themselves for the release of their earthly shell. In moments such as this- where she remains singed within starfire, tousled within the dirt- and bloodied...The vision remains to be all too consuming. The gentle pressing upon the ground is found amongst the trembling of arms and shoulders....and eventually, she finds herself hitting the ground while watching those that were about..

'Basil-...Basil, run away. Don't watch' But she sees him. Still moving towards her...His voice echoes and runs within her mind, but it echoes and pulses, becoming incoherent. 'Pericles...Serea- they're too...Too much.' Whispers within her weakness, unable to be heard...But even then, she seemingly reaches out for him....

But with every adjustment of her frame, the pain echoes, and he seems that much farther away. Before the darkness envelopes her- creating a contradiction where her body felt light, but her mind and limbs felt terribly heavy until there'd be no movement.

Here, she remains terribly unconscious. Bruised and bloodied, but not broken...completely.
(Mars)

It almost refuses to end.

This unending frenzy that he experienced, this boundless anger- for while she evades, the cacophony of voices only cause the golden eyes to quickly dart around. Here, where she expects this to be over, the flames are wildly thrown around into each direction of the voice.

Did he lose his mind in the moments such as these?

The nearby area quickly catches on fire. The smog begins to leave the burning trees, and even then it's almost like he attempts to pursue, like he attempts to ensure that he could finish her off for good. But..

It's too late, isn't it?

Every single flame that he's thrown, he now hears nothing but the crackling of burning wood. He only sees red.. and while Serea had long escaped, there's only a mutter- the spirit of the Rhoynur refusing to give out.

"I'll kill you.. I'll.."

Inhale, exhale. The pain finally catches up to him. It follows with a pained groan while he holds onto the numerous cuts and slashes, particularly at his side; as much as the guardians of Njorun are incredibly durable and powerful in their body..

They're still mortal men.
There's only so much this body can endure.

He takes a moment to catch his breath. The pain is a lot after fighting two of such powerful magi, but there's only one thing on his mind.

Mars.
She still needs his help.
She needs him.

Even more strain to his body.. but already he pushes through the limits once again with willpower and spirit alone- already he hurries towards Felinae. Noting that she's unconscious.. he carefully picks her up.

This place was no longer safe to stay in.
(Basil)