Coronation Craziness

Well, this was going swimmingly. Serilda wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or disappointed that they seemed to have reached a dead end. Jareth had whisked them away to the Lycan Woods, and while they’d certainly run into a couple beasts that roamed the area, they’d seen no sign of Shepard himself. The Omen of Resolution had been able to lead them right to the spot where Shepard’s power had been activated – a small clearing in the woods that was surrounded by a flowing brook which fed toward the Cloud Sea. However, their quarry was not there when they arrived, nor could they ascertain anything useful from the lingering residue of Shepard’s magic.

Serilda frowned at the surrounding forest in annoyance, doing her best not to scowl. “Any luck?” she asked their demonic counterpart.

Jareth opened his eyes from his meditative focus and shook his head. “No. His energy has already faded, and there wasn’t enough left to give me any idea of what he was up to. Assuming he was up to anything other than leading us on a wild goose chase.”

“But to what end?” The question was more to herself than anyone else, the Voidwalker thinking out loud and attempting to deduce their enemy’s logic. “He has to know that we’re looking for him. He’s put a lot of time and effort into keeping himself hidden, so I don’t see the point behind leaving any kind of trail that could be sensed, for seemingly no reason. He’s playing with us.”

“It’s possible. Or, as my lord suggested, we also can’t rule out that he never intended for us to notice his activity at all. We have little proof of anything at the moment.”

She shook her head. “No, whatever he did, it was deliberate. Otherwise, we would have found something out here, even just a crumb of information that we couldn’t explain or understand.” Serilda sighed, rubbing her forehead and trying to fight back a steadily growing headache from her frustration. “Well, unless one of you can think of a reason for us to stay here, I imagine we should head back. Maybe one of the others were able to find..”

Her Void sense tingled as she felt the air nearby twist. In a snap reaction, Serilda had her swords in hand and was bearing down on the location, with Jareth almost in sync with her, one of his long katanas unsheathed and at the ready. Both of them halted almost on a dime when the two Energy Monarch users appeared. The noblewoman’s eyes went wide as she took in the sight of both men, who had clearly been in a battle of some kind, one that Cedric seemed to have taken the larger brunt of. “Are you two okay? What happened?”

She sheathed her weapons and immediately walked over, putting a healing touch on Cedric to give him a slight boost in his recovery. Neither man technically needed it, she knew, but a little leg up to speed up the process certainly wouldn’t hurt. Her gaze flicked between them. “Was it Shepard?”

“Where is Eden..?” Jareth’s eyes were narrowed, but the look on his face and the tone of his voice was more curiosity than suspicion. At least, for the time being. Whether that would change in the next few seconds was anyone’s guess.

Like Mythal, Serilda also had not noticed that Eden wasn’t with the other two until Jareth pointed it out. It was certainly odd… and concerning. For the briefest of moments, she held out hope that perhaps they had found Shepard, and Vandrad and Cedric had needed to make a strategic retreat for backup while Eden held the line, but deep in her gut she knew that was wishful thinking. The Voidwalker had expected something to happen the moment that Ozorith had sent the Omen of Passion off with the other two. One could not hold a lit match near a canister of fuel and not expect there to be a fire. She’d simply hoped that they’d all tolerate each other enough to complete the mission and return to base without incident.

It seemed that would not be the case, as Vandrad confirmed fairly quickly that Eden was dead. “What?” The look of shock on her face was genuine. It wasn’t that she thought the men would have been helpless to protect themselves against a force like Eden. Afterall, that was literally the whole point of the Arc. But at the same time, she knew that Vandrad and Cedric shouldn’t have been ready to defeat a foe like her. After all, Victoria had kept Serilda up to date with their training, and Victoria was certain that the two men would have a long way to go before they could hold their own against a seasoned demon or angel, let alone one of the Sins or Divines. She could practically feel the Seal in her head burning to step out and confront the pair, but knowing it would have to wait until they were alone.

They listened while Vandrad explained that there had been some smack talk between Eden and Cedric until eventually Eden had taken it upon herself to pick a real fight that hadn’t ended in her favor. Even as Mythal burst out in anger over the issue, Serilda’s jaw was tight with her own rage, a number of thoughts swirling within her mind. She had no doubt they were telling the truth, mostly because Mythal’s reaction was too genuine for him to have sensed any falsehood from the claim, but at the same time she was certain they weren’t hearing the full story, likely because Jareth was with them. She wanted answers, but it would be wiser to get the rest of the details later.

The Omen of Resolution was studying Vandrad and Cedric quietly, his face unreadable even when the king turned to him to tackle the matter of how Ozorith was going to react to the news. Serilda eyed Jareth carefully even as she finished pumping a bit more restorative energy into Cedric. So far Jareth had been reliable to work with and trustworthy to a point, despite his affiliation with Wrath, but there was no telling what he would do in this situation. One of his allies had been murdered, and she fully expected that Jareth would have to act accordingly. He did still have his sword out…

Yet, he merely continued to stand there, eyes locked hard on the pair,without making any moves to retaliate on behalf of his fallen comrade. He was silent for several long moments before he finally spoke once more. “Displeased will be an understatement,” the Omen confirmed. “Eden was a valuable asset, and this is not a situation in which we can afford to lose powerful allies.”

That seemed to be all he had to say on the matter. Serilda finished up with Cedric before turning to look at Jareth, pushing her anger down for now to study the Omen almost as much as he was studying the Energy Monarch users. “You’re taking this remarkably well,” she observed carefully.

Another beat of silence passed before Jareth slowly sheathed his sword and finally turned away from the other pair to address Serilda. “Eden has always been a fool. She was bound to pick a fight sooner or later that she could not win. It’s not like she has never met mortals that could stand toe to toe with us before. Losing her is a concern for the fight ahead… but personally, I can’t say I’m broken up over it.” His gaze flicked briefly back to Vandrad and Cedric. “That said, it’s only fair to warn you that if Ozorith instructs me to act, I will be duty bound to obey.”

There was no threat in his voice, nor any arrogance that would lead one to believe he was sure of his victory in such a situation. He was merely being upfront about the position he was in. Ozorith was his superior and if Jareth was instructed to retaliate the Omen would have to follow through, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter.

Serilda swore under her breath. Though her facial expressions were muted, there was a simmering pool of rage within her. Eden being dead certainly wasn’t something she was going to lose any sleep over, but considering that Serilda had been the one to insist on bringing Vandrad and Cedric along, Ozorith was likely going to hold her responsible in some fashion. This was the last thing she needed on top of everything else that was going on. “Well, there’s no changing things now. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll handle Ozorith.” If anyone thought she was about to roll over and let the Prime do or say as he pleased in light of any of this, they would be sadly mistaken. Already she was straightening up her posture and assuming the look of a dignified noble and military leader about to go on a warpath.

At Serilda’s expectant look, Jareth held out his arm like before, waiting for everyone to place a hand upon him. Then, they found themselves standing once more inside the war room in Frostbane, where Ozorith was frowning at the map, with Ruzatz and Agatha still with him, presumably having been discussing theories and strategies while everyone else had been gone. The Prime of Wrath looked up and sighed, glossing over the group as a whole without yet realizing that the party was missing a member. “I take it your searches were about as fruitful as Oblivion’s?” he asked, already turning his attention back to the map to update it.

Serilda didn’t even hesitate. She stormed across the room with righteous purpose, making a beeline right for the Sin. “What the hell kind of amateur operation do you run, here?” By the time Ozorith turned to frown at her in confusion and surprise at the unexpected verbal assault, she was already close enough to be in his face. It was a tactical choice to come in hot, hopefully preventing him from getting any sure footing in the ensuing confrontation by catching him off guard.

“I beg your pardon?” Ozorith replied, more puzzled than anything else, though it was clear he didn’t particularly care for her tone.

She continued to press her advantage, standing tall in Ozorith’s personal space without any hint of intimidation. “How do you expect us to get anywhere near Shepard when you send out agents that lack the discipline to stay focused on the task at hand?! For someone who touts himself as a god among demons, the forces you command leave much to be desired..!”

His gaze narrowed dangerously, though he remained calm, if only to figure out where she was going with all this. “You would do well to make your point known,” he warned her gently.

“Your idiotic excuse for an Omen, Eden, attacked Vandrad and Cedric,” Serilda informed him hotly, refusing to back down. The Sin’s gaze flicked back to the gathered group that had returned from Earthland, finally noting the disheveled states of the two mortals, along with Eden’s absence. “She jeopardized the entire mission because she couldn’t keep her overinflated ego in check for five fucking minutes to do her damn job!”

Ozorith was quiet, an anger bubbling within him, though he didn’t seem too surprised to hear what Serilda was saying. After all, the first time she and Mythal had come to Frostbane, Eden and Cain had been rather forward with their disrespect, not just toward the two mortals, but even toward Jareth as well. He wasn’t pleased with Serilda’s tone, that much was clear, but for the moment he seemed more frustrated that Eden was causing problems and, presumably, being an embarrassment. “I’ll have a chat with her,” he assured the enraged mortal before him, the underlying message of his response indicating that it would not be a discussion Eden would enjoy.

“Oh, it’s far too late for that.”

“Meaning..?”

“She’s dead.”

Wrath’s eyes widened, even as Cain stiffened and Agatha gasped. “What did you just say?”

“Eden is dead,” Serilda repeated firmly. “I didn’t bring Vandrad and Cedric along for the fun of it. I told you they could handle themselves against the likes of Shepard, and I meant it. She picked a fight and she lost, because she was a child with no self control! And if that’s the quality of assistance we can expect from your soldiers, then we’ll find a way to deal with Shepard on our own!”

The tension that filled the room was thick as the two stared one another down, both refusing to be the first to look away. A somewhat strangled noise cut its way through the silence. Cain was trembling with fury, his face red, knuckles white from how tightly his fists were clenched. He was looking at Vandrad and Cedric with a crazed hatred, teeth bared as his nostrils flared, the very look of a man that was about to snap and lose touch with all reality.

“You will calm yourself, Cain,” Ozorith said without looking away from Serilda’s stern glare.

“My lord, we can’t just let them–”

“Do not test my patience,” Wrath demanded, finally turning away to snap his eyes on Cain. The room filled with the pressure of Ozorith’s terrifying power, the brunt of which was focused on the Omen of Contempt, who shrank beneath its weight. “You will do as you are told, or you will join Eden in the wastes of the Abyss.”

Only once he was sure that Cain had been properly cowed did Ozorith relax, easing up his power and letting out a slow, controlled exhale through his nostrils. Finally he returned his gaze to Serilda. “Eden was always a wild case. That has often suited me in the past, but it seems I allowed too much slack in her leash as of late. The rest of them will not be a problem.” His eyes flicked to Cain once more, the “or else” in his tone unmistakable.

“Well, it seems we’ve done all that can be done for the time being,” Agatha interjected once it was clear that the matter of Eden’s death had been more or less addressed, gracefully and tactfully prompting an end to the meeting before anything else could go wrong. “I think it would be wise for everyone to rest and regroup themselves. Shall we take everyone back to Earthland with us, my love? No sense in Jareth making another trip when we are headed the same way.”

In all honesty, Serilda wasn’t sure if Ozorith’s patience toward the matter was encouraging or concerning. She was well aware of how crafty the Prime could be, and she knew that just because he didn’t snap back didn’t mean he wasn’t up to something. He was Wrath, after all. Yet, he merely acquiesced that Eden was the more unhinged of his Omens and seemingly took responsibility for it. Whether that was the end of matters was up for debate, but Serilda doubted that it was.

Thankfully Agatha spoke up, always the voice of reason and peace, suggesting that the groups go their separate way for now to recuperate, the Hand tactfully pulling the tension apart before it could explode. With Ruzatz in agreement, and no one else voicing an objection or any reason to linger, the Prime of Lust conjured a portal and Vandrad smartly wasted no time dragging Cedric through. Serilda quared off with Ozorith a moment longer, almost more annoyed that he didn’t give her an excuse to pop off even further. She had barely even registered Cain; the Omen wasn’t a threat, not with the numbers he’d be up against. With little other choice, Serilda straightened herself out and reigned in her own temper before turning away and exiting back to New Rhaegar.

Ozorith watched her go, his gaze only shifting to Mythal once the slayer spoke up to express his regrets that the situation had come to what it did. Even if Eden had brought it on herself, and even though Mythal had plenty of issues with Ozorith, he claimed that they were trying to at least keep their hazardous alliance beneficial, at least insofar as Faera and Shepard were concerned. In the next breath, however, he made it clear that any attempt to seek retribution for Eden’s death would be met with swift punishment. There was a slight pause as Ozorith contemplated the threat.. And then he smirked. Not necessarily an arrogant look, but one more of what could be considered pride at such a wrathful promise. “I’d expect nothing less,” was all he said.

Once back on the island where Ruzatz had seen it fit to deposit them into an antechamber rather than right back in the party, Serilda closed her eyes and did her best to stay as disciplined as she could. To anyone who looked at her, however, her frustration was clear. Ruzatz suggested that they at least gather some of the others before they got to breaking down the details, which was probably well enough as Serilda was obviously going to need a minute to fully compose herself.

“I’ll go get the others,” Agatha offered after offering a small smile and shake of her head at her husband’s comment about Cedric’s lack of clothing. She dipped out of the room and headed toward the rest of the party.

When she returned, it was with Mercury, Saffron, Themesycia, Gren, and Vriko in tow. Saffron, who had fabric folded over one arm, took one look at Cedric and rolled her eyes playfully. “Can’t you go anywhere without losing your shirt? Nobody wants to see any of that. Gods, you’re as bad as Mercury.” She tossed him the top, a plain white tee shirt, and then found a spot to lean on a nearby wall.

“Nobody is as bad as I am,” Mercury teased, even as she approached to stand near Vandrad. Her gaze panned  across the others, lingering the longest on Serilda and Mythal. “Well, you all look like you had fun. What did we miss?” The dryness of her tone betrayed that she was well aware of the fact that half the room was in a bitter mood.

“Less than we hoped for, more than we needed.” Serilda had managed to find her center, though there was still an air of displeasure about her. Despite it all, however, she was able to stamp down her inclination to demand an explanation outright. Cedric was technically her subordinate, and as such she and Mythal were well within their rights to exercise a measure of authority just like they did with any other Knight… but the truth was that Cedric was no mere Knight, and their relationship with him was more dynamic than merely that of employer and employee.

With a sigh, she finally turned back toward the rest of the room. There was a beat of pause as Victoria stepped out into the open from the Voidwalker’s body, the Seal eager to be her own presence in the conversation. Her gaze immediately set itself on Vandrad and Cedric, flicking between the two with an expression that wasn’t necessarily judgemental or upset, but certainly carried a measure of expectation. Feeling weary, Serilda found a seat of her own and lowered herself into it. “We didn’t find Shepard. Ozorith’s Omen Ryori sensed Shepard’s power from three separate locations, and we split into teams to check each area at the same time. We weren’t able to locate him, nor any clues about where he went or what he was doing.”

“These two, however,” she nodded gently to Vandrad and Cedric, “Got into an altercation with another of Ozorith’s Omens that they had been teamed up with and managed to kill her… and for the sake of my sanity, I’m hoping and pleading that Eden was not actively or intentionally provoked into the fight.” Serilda left it there for now, turning the table to the two men in question to fill in the gaps now that they didn’t have any of Ozorith’s ilk looming over their shoulders.

Meanwhile, back in Frostbane, Ozorith’s eyes lingered on the place where Ruzatz’s portal had disappeared. There was a slight smirk still on his face, though the moment the others had gone the look had taken on a more dangerous appearance. Mythal’s threat meant little to the Prime. The director of the Rune Knights may have been Faera’s vessel and quite powerful in his own right, but he was nowhere near capable of delivering on the promise he’d made. Eden may have been a handful, and certainly the most chaotic of his demons, but she was still a powerful warrior – far more powerful than any of the mortals that had stood within his domain that day. So how had she managed to be overwhelmed by two of them, and in such little time?

“Orders, my lord?” Jareth was as collected as ever, unfazed by nearly the entirety of events that had unfolded before him. He was well aware of Ozorith’s intentions moving forward. The Prime was hardly going to step back and let the death of one of his top generals go, particularly one that had been by his side since the dawn of demon kind. Jareth had seen Ozorith enact vengeance for smaller offenses. While Jareth wasn’t exactly keen on being sent to kill friends of Ruzatz and Agatha – both of whom he greatly respected – he had made it clear from the start that it was a possibility, and there was no doubt in the Omen’s mind that his prediction was about to come true.

“None for now, Jareth,” was Ozorith’s calm response.

Jareth’s eyes widened in surprise, but it was Cain that spoke up, finding his voice once more. “You’re just going to let them get away with it?” he asked, still vulnerable from being chastised mere moments ago, but unable to accept the idea that Ozorith might simply let Eden’s murder slide.

Ozorith gave him a warning look out of the corner of his eye, causing Cain to shrink back a bit. Then he relaxed. “Of course not. I will not suffer the existence of two mortals thinking they have any power over me or my court, especially when I was far more gracious than I needed to be in allowing their presence. They will pay for Eden’s death in blood.” Reaching over to the map on his table, he picked up one of the tokens, lifting it to his face and smiling at it – Ryori’s marker. “And there’s nothing they, or anyone, can to do to save them.”

Serilda had hoped that Cedric would give her a straight answer, and the terse tug on her lips was enough to betray that she didn’t appreciate his beating around the bush. Luckily Vandrad was there to be the voice of bluntness, as he always was, whacking Cedric on the back of his head and earning a snort from Saffron in the process. The attention in the room shifted to the king as he explained that there had been quite the verbal jousting session between Eden and the former Dread Master, who had elected to stoop to the Omen’s level rather than rise above it.

As Vandrad turned to face her fully, Serilda met his eyes in equal measure, giving her future brother-in-law her full attention. Setting aside Cedric’s own behaviors during the mission, he admitted that Eden had said a number of things that were actively meant to try to provoke the two of them, things that were rude enough that even Vandrad had contemplated starting a fight, had Cedric not stopped him. It seemed he was willing to defend his Ark counterpart, if only to say that Cedric seemed more interested in a verbal spar than a physical one, and that Eden was the true culprit of the events that ultimately led to her death.

It was then that Cedric chimed back in, more serious this time, as he explained his opinion on Eden. And in all fairness, he was right on the money. But he apologized to Serilda, understanding the bind she had been put in and explaining he hadn’t meant to play any part in that. Serilda tapped a fingertip gently on the arm of her chair in thought, but only for a second or two before she relaxed and shook her head. “There is nothing to make up for,” she told him honestly, if likely to his great surprise. “I knew it was a bad match up from the start. I gave serious thought to asking Ozorith to send you two with Jareth, instead. He’s far more agreeable and professional, and it’s not like either of us had a chance to warn you about her behavior; she and Cain – the one that almost snapped back there – didn’t exactly give us the warmest reception when we first met them, either.”

“But I chose not to argue it, if only because it had been made clear that time was of the essence. I had hoped that the three of you could at least get along long enough to do the job and get back before anything worse could happen. At the end of the day, the responsibility is mine.” She could hardly hold Ozorith accountable for Eden’s poor behavior without also doing the same for herself. Like any leader worth their salt, Serilda knew that she couldn’t simply pass the blame around, not when she had an opportunity to step in after recognizing a potential problem. She’d gambled and lost, and she wasn’t about to reprimand Cedric for that.

It was then that Mythal brought up the million jewel question, inquiring as to why Vandrad seemed so upset with Cedric. The king was quick to answer, remarking rather angrily about some new power that the former Dread Master had been hiding for quite some time. Cedric attempted some light humor over the matter and found it wasn’t to be well received, so he chose to switch gears and get a bit into the Ark and its purpose. Obviously, he and Victoria had been training Vandrad on how to properly use the Ark, but so far only with the powers of creatures that had long ago been slain and absorbed by Marka. This time, Cedric had used the powers of a take over that he claimed was more recent, one that Eden had referred to as Omigen.

The news had quite the effect on both Ruzatz and Agatha, both of whom straightened up in interest. The Prime of Lust admitted that there had been quite the search for the lost Hunger when he’d gone missing, along with the human he’d been possessing. Of course they’d never had reason to suspect that Omigen had become one with the Ark, mostly because they hadn’t realized an Ark user had been running around at the time. When prompted, Cedric admitted to the deed, with a rather sharp comment about who the true victims were in the encounter.

His tone drew quite a few stares and frowns from around the room as several people wondered why Cedric was being so aggressive toward Ruzatz. Cedric himself seemed to have recognized his odd behavior, starting to apologize before Ruzatz cut him off to brush away any need for such things. He had little pity about the demon’s fate, and normally would be congratulating the former Dread Master. His only concern was that Omigen’s master, Illgan, was buddies with Ozorith – and apparently, not in a casual, we-just-catch-up-during-holidays kind of thing. They were close enough that Ruzatz suspected Ozorith would have all the more reason to want vengeance if he discovered that Cedric was responsible for not one, but two high profile demon murders.

Granted, it seemed murder wasn’t entirely correct, as Omigen wasn’t necessarily dead. His power lived on within Cedric, just devoid of any personality that made the demon unique. It was complicated, and yet Vandrad only demanded more answers as to why the information had never been divulged to him before. The answer seemed to be that Vandrad simply wasn’t ready to handle it yet. Cedric himself, who had been using the Ark for far longer and had much more control over it, could barely control the take over. He’d been forced to go at Eden hard and fast, because the longer he sustained the form, the more likely it was to destroy him in turn. Not to mention the fact that Vandrad apparently didn’t have access to it yet.

But the true heart of the reason that he hadn’t brought it up had simply been because he knew that the moment Vandrad learned about the ability, he was likely to throw himself into using it against Faera before he was ready. Vandrad looked like he wanted to argue against it, but in the end chose to acknowledge his nature, agreeing that he would have put himself in a dangerous situation. Cedric only felt confident enough to do it because he had better control over the Ark, and said it was part of the reason why he had tried to encourage Victoria in a certain direction with their training. The way he saw it, once Vandrad was able to master the Ark, even Faera would find him an unstoppable force to be reckoned with.

“Be that as it may,” Victoria interjected, finally deigning to speak now that all the explanations were out of the way, “You do no service to your own training by keeping me in the dark about where you really stand. Just because we are working to improve Vandrad’s level of control to meet yours, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t also be trying to improve your own. With or without the Ark, it will take more than one person to bring her down. Putting all your chips in one basket to the neglect of all else is a quick way to find yourself dead in the field of battle.”

“And now, you’re going to have to be all the more on your guard,” Serilda added, her gaze primarily on Cedric though it flicked to Vandrad as well. “Both of you. We already had enough headaches with Faera and Shepard, not to mention Seberg. I don’t trust Ozorith to look past this. As to how quickly he’ll act, I can’t say. He can be frighteningly patient. He cased me for a very long time and made sure he had me in a box before I was even aware of his existence. But he’s a snake whose entire nature revolves around ideals of payback and acts of retaliation. He will have a response for this, and he will do what it takes to make sure his victory is secured before he even strikes.”

Serilda knew far too well how devious Ozorith could truly be. By the time he sprung any of his traps, it was typically far too late to escape them. She shook her head sadly. “I suppose there’s nothing that can be done about it now. We’ll take steps to do what we can moving forward. In the meantime, I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m intent on not letting this nonsense with Ozorith and Shepard ruin the rest of my day. That, and I can use a drink. Shall we return to finish off what’s left of the party?”

“Oh good! We were holding off on the birthday cake until Vandrad came back.” Mercury shot her fiance a grin before slipping her arm beneath his and nodding toward the door. “Come on, then. You guys have earned some leisure and then some.”