The majority of the heroes were making a time of the meal, chatting away and discussing strategies. The fight would soon be upon them, and it was absolutely vital they maintained a positive atmosphere, or else they would drown in their own peril before they could even fire a cannon.
Thinking about it, it has been a while since he was on a ship. Having met Gia, he would use his incredible swimming capabilities to get to the mainland, and since he was gone, he now had a form that could take to the skies, altogether eliminating the need for a boat.
Alex, however, kept to himself on the darker end. Nobody was seated next to the Enogan armoured spirit, and he seemed to prefer it that way. He would slowly pick at his food and sometimes trace shapes in the air in front of him. Occasionally he would even mutter to himself. Most of the time, he just stared into his cup and did nothing. Nobody approached because Alex would simply brighten up and dismiss any and all anxiety until the curious onlooker deemed it satisfactory enough to leave him alone, to which he was immediately enveloped in his darker atmosphere.
Finally, it was Momsrascal's turn. Having finished eating early and not daring herself to stick around the main table, in fear she would not be able to will herself off thirds, she approached Alex and crept into the dim atmosphere. At least with Alex, neither would have anything personal to say that would get them emotional.
“You've been incredibly quiet this whole time.” Momsrascal mused, approaching Alex, “Usually you have something witty to say on the verge of battle.”
“I've got a lot to think about.” Alex shrugged, not bothering to look at her, “Half of which I'm not supposed to actually be thinking about.”
“Like what-?” she asked, but was interrupted.
*SPLOP*
The water in Alex's cup suddenly took a leap and splashed all over the edge. Heads turned at the strange happening, but Alex simply shook his head and smiled.
“Sorry about that. I was practicing.” he apologized, reverting back to his more positive personality, “Liquids are much harder to manipulate with majiya than solids. I guess I could not do it while talking.”
Curious, Momsrascal peered into the cup. Alex returned to his focused state and she saw the remainder of the liquid take on a perfectly spherical shape within the cup, completely ignoring the natural boundaries of its container. It held for a few moments before Alex relaxed and the liquid took on its natural property of resembling the container's shape.
“I fought against Dulcien,” Alex continued, taking a gulp of his practice, “And I could only stall him while we got away. However, neither of us were at full power at the time. He was awaiting the ritual, and I came into the battle already spent. Therefore, I cannot use this last battle as a reliable reference for planning a strategy against him.”
“Why were you exhausted, anyways?” she asked, her ears tilting askew.
Yeah, that was the question. Alex took a moment to ponder over what details be actually could spare before answering.
“Hunt and I were attacked-” Alex said, but then snapped his fingers and sat up slightly, “THAT'S where I saw them once before. The thing that attacked us. It was one of those creatures. I'm pretty sure- ... that...”
Then be paused, and thought some more. But after a moment, he shook his head.
“... no, that isn't it. That's one instance, but I'm feeling that there's something... more...”
He plopped back on his chair.
“If I only knew what they were called...” he groaned.
“It was a tough fight?” she asked.
Was it a tough fight? She really had to ask that?
“It was like nothing I had ever been through.” Alex said, “We both gave it our all, fighting back with all out ability, and the whole time... the WHOLE time, it taunted! And laughed, and danced around us. It taunted us with 12 different languages, half of them in song, and the languages I did understand, it was complete gibberish. Something about wanting to cover the mountains in corn, “fly in from the west to sleep on station”, and something about a solar eclipse frightening the ants. Then it suddenly goes savage out of nowhere and attacked back with a power I had never seen before.”
During the demonstration, Alex had his arms extended and merged into a flat surface on the table, and puddle of enogan materialized into a trail-based scene in front of him. A small miniature version of himself with a rider facing off against a strange, twisting shape that flowed all around them, shifting in and out of existence when they got close and slashing at them with great spikes from nearly every literal direction. Metallic representations of flames covered the entire battlefield. It looked like the entire ocean was burning all around them.
“The strange thing was that it only went savage against Hunt.” Alex said, shifting the rider to directly take on the shapeless mass, which in turn morphed into the recognizable creature that fought him solidly, “It fought with him properly, trading attacks and giving it a full effort. When I subbed in, though, it suddenly went docile as though nothing ever happened and it proceeded to taunt us no matter how much I tried to attack it. I unleashed my most powerful spirit-summon against it, and it still didn't do anything but make it laugh. Technically, it never attempted a single blow against me.”
“Why didn't you just try to flee, then?”
“For one thing, I couldn't shake it. For another, Hunt was very keen on fighting this thing. He kept urging me on despite us obviously being completely overpowered. And even when Hunt finally decided we were wasting time and effort and we attempted a retreat, it would give chase. The only way we were able to get away was by having me fight it directly, but slowly back away and keep extending my distance until it was completely out of sight. Thankfully, it didn't follow when I finally turned tail and dashed for Falador.”
Momsrascal was indeed puzzled. Although this sounded only slightly similar to the chaos elemental, she only really had a glimpse of the creatures in question and knew they had absolutely nothing in common.
“I hope we don't encounter it during the mission.” she said.
“Join the club.” Alex replied, the top of his visor rising slightly.
It was then that Alex noticed that nearly everybody else was listening in. The galley had gone incredibly silent and all eyes were on him.
“Anyways, I'm using that experience as an example.” Alex continued, “When fighting a creature of unmatched power, I found the solution through strategy and observation. That's why I'm thinking right now of what I've learned about Dulcien so far, in combat and out, and seeing what sorts of measures I can take. Without Saradomin, I've only got a limited power, and therefore limited fighting time and techniques.”
“That's why we're all going.” Jason said, “To supplement each other and extend our fighting times to the maximum.”
“And again, it's difficult to do when the only experience I've had against him was of a more laid-back fight.” he repeated, “For all I know, he could summon vast hordes of corrupt spirits, or slice through reality itself, carving us each in half without touching us.”
“And it's not just getting in and taking him down.” Alex added, leaning forward and dropping his elbows on the hard wood table, “There's another thing we should think carefully about. Because we're attempting an assassination, taking down Dulcien would break what stealth aspect we have remaining, and we'd have the rest of his forces on us in moments. Mahjarrat are not feared as much as they are respected, and their faction will not stop hunting us for anything.”
Alex's eyes closed, and he once again focused on the cup. Turning it upside down, he let whatever water remained inside fall out, but rather than splash on the table like everybody expected, it simply hovered there in a large, perfectly round ball. With a waving motion, he scooped it back up with the cup without even touching it.
“Even if we manage success,” he said aloud as the cup floated on its own into his hand, “We'll also need some means of escape. Anybody here have a plan in case teleportation doesn't work?”
__________________________________________________
TOWER OF THE STAR __________________________________________________
Nuli gazed out the multi-paned window. He was expecting a bit of prestigious respect, but this was simply overdoing it. He got an entire suite all to himself, including a gigantic bed and enough decor to make him question the intended wall color. The sun was setting, casting a rather eerie orange light across the horizon. The moon was coming close to cover, but not quite enough to create an eclipse.
It was a pity it was nothing more than an ornate cell that he had been staying in for a few days since the heroes left. Alex has instructed the guards to not let him leave even for the SWC, as he knew by experience Nuli would try to get back to him through some arbitrary reason. Usually he made one up. Usually.
The stars were bright tonight. Not the brightest he had ever seen, but still up there. Bright enough to actually be seen through the gradually dimming amber light. He loved looking at them. Just sitting there, gazing outside. So easily available, and yet so impossibly far away. What would it be like to fly among them one day? And they weren't static, either. Each one seemed to twinkle with their own life, unique and different than the others in their own way.
It was like having millions of White Dragon eyes looking back at him.
But tonight, he had little time for luxury. He had a job to do. Fulfill his own unquenchable curiosity in hopes he could aid the heroes in a way he knew how.
Research and experimentation.
He thought back to all he witnessed at the ritual. The one point in 500 years where such a maneuver was possible. The grounds. The fight. The death. The transfer of energy. The regeneration. That was just it. They fought, took the lives of one or more of themselves, and it restored them to full, if not greater strength.
How did it work? What made such a circumstance occur? What did the planets and the timing have to do with anything? And how did this ritual come around when the mahjarrat were never originally from this planet? This was his curiosity speaking, and he wouldn't ignore it.
His eyes diverted from the stars to his scribblings, coating the entire sheet of papyrus before him. The papyrus was one of many, all of which were strewn all around him in a clustered frenzy that only he knew the order of. Creating such a mess occupied most of his time in the Tower (the rest occupied by eating, as the licked-clean metal bowl on the door end-table had to show). The guards had looked at it, but neither of them had the means or knowhow to decipher his markings. Mainly because despite his efforts and his ability to understand his own writing, he wasn't for the life of him capable of making it easily readable for anyone else. Mostly because of his three-digit claws that held the charcoal between them, gripped with tension to prevent slippage and held at an awkward angle so he could see what he was writing. It worked, but only just; he had very little coordination to match his hasty diagram. Hence his constant usage of sign language rather than writing down and displaying what he wanted to say.
He was thinking. This had been his entire focus ever since the meeting. They were up against one of the most powerful foes imaginable. One with power that gave even Alex a good load of trouble. One that forced the Tower of the Star to resort to a rather dark method. One so dangerous that Alex was forcing Nuli to stay at the tower for his own protection, leaving him incapable of helping. Of course, what could Nuli do? He was merely a hunter with a passion for the stars.
But perhaps, if he could strip their enemy of even one source of its power… give the heroes an edge...
He sat still.
He meditated.
He thought.
All that he had seen in the stars coming back to him. Their patterns of the stars; the movement of the planets. He had gazed upon just as many colors in the sky as he gazed upon stars, and he could remember every one of them. He remembered the layout of the ritual site. A rough plane, covered in snow and rock, once alive and thriving. A large stone landmark in the centre where they all gathered around at one point. He could also remember Alex's words explaining the ritual. It happened once every 500 years during the alignment of the planets. All the mahjarrat gathered to a designated spot in the north to fight out their decision. Was it entirely their choice, or was it simply necessary? Did they enjoy the concept of sacrifice?
He suddenly opened his eyes when he realized there was no longer any sunlight in the room. The sun had set, and the sliver of a new moon had begun to take over. The stars were much more brilliantly illuminated.
And a bright white light was shining above him from behind.
His eyes widened in shock, casting the room in a dim white light. If he could sweat, it would be drenching. Slowly, afraid that a sudden movement would spell disaster for him, he turned his head around a full 180 degrees at the figure behind him. His gaze only locked for a moment before he dashed like a mouse under the bed.
What was it? It looked solid, but at the same time, had no mass. The figure stood nearly 10 feet tall, roughly humanoid with his arms and lower body ending off in a flame-like wisp of condensed black smoke. The only thing that appeared to really be there was the eyes, and even then the light looked ethereal. As though despite its illumination, there was just the same amount of detail as the darkness provided. It didn't seem right. It was as though the light wasn't supposed to be there.
And yet…
Forcing the fear from his mind took a moment, but he poked his head out from under the bed and looked up again. The dark, immobile shape was gazing down at him, its eyes bright, but not blinding. So familiar in stature, too. He almost wanted to speak out to it, to see if it would react. Keeping his wits about him, Nuli slowly, carefully, crawled out from under the bed and approached.
This was the same thing he saw at their chapel once before. And he wasn't just seeing things; it appeared to only exist in one spot. Was that really his father's ghost? He didn't know. It looked like his father very much, but there was still something off. Something he could not figure out.
Suddenly it moved, and Nuli flinched slightly. Slowly, it raised a heavy, muscular arm straight up towards the window towards the stars. The whipping mass of black smoke at the end formed into a barely distinguishable hand, gesturing into a directional point. It didn't speak, but Nuli heard something. Not from his ears, but in his mind.
"Go to him."
Even the voice was off; distorted and dark. It made Nuli uncomfortable. This wasn't his father! It couldn't be! It was awful! He wanted it to go away!
Stretching his wings out, he flapped them upwards at the dark figure, sending a quick gust. Something to blow away the outlines so he could see its more solid shape underneath. Hopefully blow away this disturbing darkness about it. Instead, the entire figure suddenly crumbled and exploded in a silent mass of cloud, as though Nuli just hit it with a wind surge spell. In less than a heartbeat, every last trace of it was gone. And Nuli was alone again, inside the dark, cold room, left with nothing but the thought and wonder of what he just witnessed.
And then, as though out of nowhere, something clicked in his mind. He was no longer afraid. Instead, he was enlightened by something. Stars… clouds…
Light…
...could that really be it?
He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't thinking anymore. His claws moved on their own. New sheet of papyrus, spread out in front of him. Charcoal stick sharpened with the blade on the end of his tail. His eyes never left the sheet as the stick ran across at frantic speeds. He was not thinking of the details and the reasoning anymore; that was already thought of. Instead, he was merely thinking of where the carbon markings should go. That line goes here, this circle there. Had to be. This planet was bigger. This planet was red. Stars are here. The positioning at this angle. This one…
*Clink*
The charcoal rolled under the dresser beside him as he shone his everlasting glowing eyes over the papyrus, gripping the sheet between his fore-claws. It wasn't proven, but it was an idea. A idea for a schematic, for something that could make even the mahjarrat cringe if his hypothesis and research were correct.
He wasn't making up a reason this time.
He had to get this to Alex and the heroes.
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