Medese un Torill

The second siege

Medese and Torill grew only deeper in love and greatly attached as the weeks had passed and all could see that in the company of one another they were more joyous than ever, their presence was enchanting to all. The wedding was celebrated by all of Styor and it reminded many within the empire that love would prevail above all for it was a force that not even the most vilest could destroy. The outbursts of violence had ceased and the rallies and uproars had been silenced as the cosmos had come to remember the baseline values of their mighty empire, the laws of faith that guided them. Dijynn was outraged by it all and when news of this had come to Vanna she grew silent in her ire and while she hid away in Utummo a darkening cloud had come to be about her as she loathed bitterly the Songbird.

While the attacks by Dijynn had been small and scattered, easily fought back and with minimal casualties on the side of the Myrrians, Dijynn still held one of the most powerful and massive forces in the cosmos at that time and yet was still overpowered by the Myrrian empire and its allies. What remained of the Illustara forces proved a hindrance to Dijynn and even Valore he had been met by the aggression of the Illiban of Kzvelta. With enemies all around him Dijynn thought perhaps his reign would near its end, then the civil war began.

The Valan Imperium is a collection of planets circling a bright blue star that we will have named Motenna, the huntress, when the paths of our civilizations cross. The Valan are a subspecies of the Lara, much like Humans are as well, and the Valan Imperium exists within the orion arm of the milky way and neighbors our own universe. The second force who bore forth the civil war was the order of Ahys, a society that was born in a galaxy thousands of light years from ours and whose history is twisted with greed and vanity.

The Valan had simply grown prudent and knew that eventually the Myrrians would fall if Dijynn could come to amass a greater force than the one he held. They wanted no part in their downfall and the possible calamity that would spread through the cosmos with their demise. They came to grow great in the art of alchemy, being great shipbuilders and whom would build crafts that many believed to be living and sentient. Their military was a great legion of fifty thousand highly trained Annyr who were skilled in all manners of weaponry and martial arts. They served the Magistrate and the pantheon-magi who ruled the imperium.

The Ahys were greedy and wanted to reign over their worlds independently in order to seep wealth from them. Tensions were raised even higher as a company based within the Valan Imperium would be taken with them if they should gain independence and so too would the Myrrians greatest supplier of AI technology, as well as multiple Myrrian factories and chains which would likely be destroyed in the wake of their freedom. Strife began when a Myrrian relief center was destroyed, a program set up on the border of Valan territory that would act as a refuge for lost rangers and explorers of all races and civil loyalties. It was a gesture that the Valan would suffer no immigrants within their borders, regardless of their creed.

The Myrrian militia was sent out to quell the act of destructive rebellions once diplomatic attempts had failed and they were met with violent opposition. The Ahys proved more difficult as they took back their solar systems by force, not even allowing open negotiations, and so the Myrrians had been cut off from a clean supply of Sellion crystals and a wide fabric district. With the army of the empire dispersed and the navy spread thin, Dijynn saw a ripe opportunity and so too did Vanna.

The Sisters and the Styorian garrison were trained rigorously, many being trained by Torill himself now and he had come to build a new reputation that would see him as a skilled warrior and patient teacher. With kidimira being occupied by her political duties as well as building up military strength, desiring not to be bested by Dijynn a second time, Illomon was left in the care of Medese.

He oversaw the tending of the temple grounds, the morning and evening prayers, the afternoon ritual of bringing an offering to both the old tree and the statue in the grand cathedral. All the while Torill was at his side, and often Angdira (when he was not teaching classes) and the affairs of the temple went by smoothly with Medese's attentive care. He had always loved the feeling he got when contributing to the duties of the temple, a nice feeling that made him feel important. Torill cared very little for the sacred rituals, but had nothing else to do really as his only other activity was training with those assigned to his teachings. He cherished the time he got to spend with his love and so did all the tasks he was set too with eager vigilance, not wanting any inconvenience to find Medese. Early on a cold morning while the snow fell gently upon the stone streets and tiled roofs, Medese and Torill had gone down to the temple of the Songbird while Angdira was charged with the temples oversight. They wasted half the day away just spending time with one another while Medese lazily tended to the rituals of the temple.

It was at this time that Vanna and Dijynn had set to their plans, separate in their sovereignty now as Vanna ruled as a sorceress with great wings that were trailed by death in the city of Ultumno; Dijynn ruling from Lav'namoor and the world about the city grew darker as thick shadows of smog and reek clung to the fields and fens about the city and there came to be a dreaded marsh about the city where strange creatures lurked.

A council he held with his commanders and they thought long on strategy. Dijynn knew that the Myrrians expected an assault as the empires predicament had shown obvious the fragility of Sebri’ati.

Vanna had managed to conjure a great force of Forsaken, beings who were not of the demons who dwelled in the grey between the light and darkness and who were not of the darkness either. They had become cruel in shape and were always in agony as the drift between to the two realms two them apart. Warriors from lost tribes and fleeing Quajyn joined her and as she was a vampiress she had a hoard of vampire bats with wings of grey and horns of twisting silver at her command, as well as many she had transformed into beasts with her fangs. Vanna had used magic to call her forces to her and through this she had discovered that another of her children lived: Adonu.

Weithweitd was the sword that Torill carried with him and with this gift he had began to practice his form in the twilight of the day when the sun lingered on the horizon of the sea and the scavenger birds cried out to the pale moon that peered through the tinted clouds. It was a secret routine and it was an activity that brought him melancholy. He moved with the momentum of his large blade, freezing in poses mocking the flight and flee of animals. The thrust of his blade sent a vibration through the haired metal and with every swing and slice there was swoosh and metallic tune that followed. He danced upon a high balcony within a corridor rarely walked and he trained his body as the months had degraded his flexibility somewhat. He closed his eyes as he moved and allowed the motions to carry him about with graceful footing and perfect pose. He was brought back to his home in Ultummo, a great black tower of twisted metal and melted glass that poured out through the halls and chambers. He was brought back to the many battles he had fought at the command of Vanna, the blood spilt on his blade, the lives taken, the innocents murdered for no clear cause except his own survival. With a final sway he had opened his eyes and he found that there stood Medese, leaning against a pillar and with a smile on his face, framed with heavy curls of gold.

"You look beautiful," He spoke and walked over to Torill as he stood with panting breath and sweat shining upon his bronze skin.

"You are always beautiful my Medese," He answered and threw his blade down and pulled him into a passionate kiss, both of them caught in the orange glow of the setting sun.

"Where did you learn to fight with such grace?" Medese question as he had pulled away and went to pick up the blade that had clattered against the stone beneath their feet. He felt the weight of the blade and he quickly spun about, pointing the tip of the blade to the archway leading to the corridor he had come out from.

"Vanna was of the Illiban during the scarring and she learned the ways of combat from the many tribes and kingdoms, training with celebrated champions and road worn warriors. She taught us all she had learned," Torill answered, suddenly somber-struck. Medese examined the lettering etched into the hilt. He could not understand how such beautiful things could be heralds of death.

"Who taught you to sing?" Torill asked as he watched Medese examine the blade.

"Life, I suppose," He answered without taking his eyes from the black blade, "Though Kidimira has taught me many songs as well," Medese humored, earning a scoff from Torill as he smirked and chuckled to himself.

"Kidimira would make a good general, she's intimidating, probably the most terrifying being I've ever encountered." Medese laughed and agreed. Torill moved to the railing and peered beyond the horizon and Medese came to his side with a gayish smile, resting his head on Torill's bare arm while leaning the blade against the railing.

"It's as if the whole world is holding its breath for us," Torill remarked as he looked out against the darkening horizon.

The spies had brought news of Dijynns plan to Vanna and Kidimira and they were both prepared. The first siege of Styor was no more than a bloodbath, but Kidimira would suffer not another defeat at the hands of the Savvage and her city this time would be prepared for the savagery he would bring. Winter had fallen and snow fluttered down from the heavens and a cold wind seemed to blow always. The winds and the frigid chill in the air had caused the waves that crashed upon the shore to freeze and even the branches of the trees had been covered in frost.

Dijynn wanted now, more than ever, to crush Illomon and destroy the faithful of Ada. There was a weapon he had constructed on a fortress he built in the dark expanse between galaxies. This fortress would become known as J'jalka and in the depths of that deathly place there would come to be the constructing and engineering of many horrors. Of these horrendous machinations there was the spawn of Axyli: Torim the blue whose wings were of azure and his breath as cold as the gasping darkness of space, he was larger than any dragon, but dumber than all others. With this horrid place being both a shipyard and a factory it would be their central supply of arms for many centuries to follow.

The battle came on a freezing morning when the sun was high, yet the sky darkened by grey clouds and veiled with the heavy fall of snow. The city had near been evacuated as news had come fast to Kidimira that Dijynn was sending his forces to Styor. With a fleet or sturdy airships and a strengthened garrison, Styor was prepared for an attack, but not for what Dijynn had brought with him. The watchers had seen from their towers of white the hulls of the ships piercing through the clouds; A few at first, and then hundreds, all until they had chopped away the clouds and a light mist clung to the metal ships allowing only the dim glow of the sun to shine through.

Within the tower Medese was wearing his white feathered cloak and sat before the old tree, locked in prayer as he lent his strength once more to the Brothers and so the barrier was held about the whole city at Kidimira’s command. Torill stood guard before him, dressed in the attire of the Sisters with his great sword sheathed at his and donning a silver winged helm. To the leather scabbard he held his sword in, there was also held the single arrow the Oracle had sent to him and so it was that as long as Torill had his sword he would have also the mysterious arrow. Kidimira watched from the nest atop Illomon as the ships descended from above. Dijynn began his bombardment immediately and the cannon fire rained down from the ships and were set out only to find weak points in the shield, to which there was none, but it still filled those within the city with dread as the blasts rippled against the shield, dispersing the white light across it's shimmering surface.

Kidmira was glad as she saw the defense had held as the shield was weakened by its size. The dragons were released and Dijynn continued his bombardment, much as before. The shield had held, but this was too Dijynns anticipation and he chuckled to himself as he stood watching from his ship. It was then, as Dijynn watched from the command bay of his capital ship, that the sun had been hidden away suddenly and a shadow crept over the land as a great dragon had come, unfurling it's mighty wings. It was Torim and as he flapped his wings the mist had lifted and there followed a deafening roar and a blinding flash. With his icy breath he had shattered the barrier, a pure white ice that burned like magnesium, and for what seemed like ages there was a silence with the only movement being the wayward falling of the snow. The wind swept through the emptied streets and unsettled the snow that had come to rest peacefully before the bringing up of the barrier.

Soldiers huddled in alleyways or abandoned apartments, around the flames of magi or wrapped in their cloaks, leaning against their feathered spears and polishing their crystal swords. The sisters were dispersed throughout the city to aid the Styorian garrison in the oncoming battle. Templant and Garrison soldiers had hidden away throughout the city and waited in ambush, waiting to cut down the Quajyn forces like forest cats to a doe. Kidimira watched from the highest point of the tower, an archer set on both sides with notched arrows aimed skywards, dressed in scaled armor adorned with feathers and she wore also a cape of grey that was muddied by time. For a few long seconds many believed the shield would’ve held until suddenly the area around impact began to crack, then the whole barrier shattered and the shimmering shards fell to the land below, dissipating like droplets to heated iron cast, and then the bombardment resumed. The bay of Dijynn's command ship was silent as the generals and pilots sat in astonishment as the fragments of light fluttered skyward, Torim slinking down in exhaustion. He began laughing maniacally, a terrible laughter that sent a dark chill through the spines of all those in the room, watching as cannon fire filled the air beyond the glass of his ship.

Dijynn had already unleashed his dragons and the soared about in the sky high above in waiting for the shield to fall. Once it had they set upon the city with swift flight, whistling flames through the streets, only to find that the buildings were now infused with spells to resist the fires. The archers towers were now set with ballistas and sonic cannons, bringing down many dragons as they swarmed above, combating the Myrrian airships also. As cannon fire tore through stone and metal that dragons fire could not melt, Dijynn had sent out a command specifically for them; they were to destroy the pillars holding up the cities shelf and so they pulled out of the cities air space and swooped down over the cliff sides to the slate and shale below. As they weaved between the stone, searching for the thickest pillars, they were set upon by unseen beings. They were pulled into the darkest shadows, skulls crushed in powerful grips, and the riders pierced by flashes of white arrows. They were ambushed by the viissir of Orth'valnur. The vissir set upon them, hidden in the shadows between the black pillars, the riders astride them flying arrows that pierced armor and flesh. Dragon claws met the horns of vissir and their fires met also, an intermingling of blue and orange flames. The winged beasts swarmed like disturbed bats, roaring and screeching as they fought in a wild frenzy. Fire filled the air and their wings brought up a storm of dust, shale, and ash that all intermingled with smoke and blood as flesh was torn by claws and fangs. Jaws were broken upon hard plating and scales, fire and claw searing flesh and feathers as cries and roars echoed through the collumades of adamant. While the winged beasts fought below the shattered barrier had brought the Myrrian airships into the sky as Dijynn advanced upon the city, the ships firing back as the Quajyn drew ever closer. The Myrrian cannons held back the main flagships, but could not fend off the smaller transport ships. The forces of DIjjyn had made it to the city and so the second battle of Styor had begun.

When the shield fell Medese was prepared for the pain that would surge through his body, yet it was still too much for him to ignore. He was forced to his knees while trying to stifle cries of pain, Torill catching him in his arms. At that moment Angdira had charged into the chamber and stood at the start of the stone path leading over the moat surrounding the central garden. The Brothers had also been injured and so Medese was called to action and he set out with Angdira and Torill at his side to tend to the temple monks. They made their way together throughout the temple, tending to the inner wounds inflicted by the magic of Torim, singing softly to soothe mind and body. All the while the battle raged on outside as soldiers clashed in the streets and the air was replete with cannon fire. The winding streets were being swept by ranks of Savvage, many being set upon by the hidden Styorians who would charge them down with their spears and casted spells. The Savvage held them off to the best of their abilities, finding that the foes they faced now were as equally deadly as they were, fighting with a rage so rarely seen in Myrrians. The Myrrian airships held steadfast against Dijynns fleet, their shields withstanding the irritated blasts of Savvage artillery.

The battle was met with equal savagery from both sides. The Styorians cut down the invaders with cries and screams, running them down with spears, and raining down arrows from the towers heights. Below vissir slaughtered dragon and dragon slaughtered vissir, their bodies lain broken upon the stone shores, blood washed clean by the sweeping waters and foam. When Dijynn had thought that perhaps they were equal in force and at that moment ships came from the east, sea ships with blood red sails and carved with the wings of swallows and gulls. Above, following the ships, were the winged airships of the Lara. When in reach the Laran fired upon the Quajyn fleet and they had been forced to the western side of the city, taking refuge near the cliff where the high city walls obscured them from view. The Myrrian ships convened with the Laran ships and as their boats had come to the beaches where the pillars stood arrows and spears whistled through the air as they brought down numerous dragons and the wyms that had joined them.

WIth his ships forced back and a new force arrived Dijynn saw no other choice then to bring the full of the battle to the city streets. He landed his ships along the western cliffs and brought down a section of the western wall as well, bleeding his forces into the side streets and alleys. The Lara had landed on the beaches below the city, shooting down any dragon that came into view and taking their riders captive, those that survived the fall at least. The Lara wore battle masks made to mimic the roaring faces of mountain lions and the glare of rams. They wore capes of white and yellow furs with armor of scales and chain. They carried with them great clubs, heavy swords, and throwing spears tipped with silver. They guarded the shores and many went and joined the fray above.

All was watched by Kidimira at the temples highest point, her archers shooting any wyrm that got to close as they had come to fill the air like locust. She had watched as Torim slunk below the waves, exhausted from his exertion. Medese had continued to heal those within the temple and those set to the temples guard were trained under Torill, Angdira healing those in need alongside Medese, though his skill were lesser in comparison to the Songbirds. With the dragons slain below the remaining Laran force had joined the forces above as the streets were filled with the clash of swords and spears, shields being splintered and shattered, blood splayed over white stone and painted brick, tumultuous cries filling the air. The airships had gone and destroyed Dijynns remaining ships where they harbored, trapping the Savvage and Quajyn within the city walls, the most celebrated and important commanders and generals held up in a complex where they bickered angrily, all held in fear as the battle seemed lost to them. Dijynn was unfazed for he knew that to their aid was come Axyli, for though he elected to join no battles, he had come to lead the front of Dijynns reinforcements, a combined army of Vanna's forces and a great host of Savvage. Dijynn knew not of her plotting, thinking of her as a near pest, but when Axyli found her forced moving through the forests as he prepared the reinforcements, she agreed to give her aid yet only to the city fall. They charged out from the woods with Axyli taking flight, soaring over the fields and his breath being a searing flame that burned white, melting the gold, stone, and alvantium that his brethren could not. He roared and winds tore through the chaos with ever flap of his wide leathery wings.

The reinforcements had pulled down the walls and as they filled the streets they had pushed the Styorians and Laran inwards. Two worthy combatants had joined the fray then; Oal'durn, who was dressed in armour of scales and fur, his hair held in tight braids and with his greatsword held in one hand as he beat down his enemies with his bare left hand, crushing helmes and breaking limbs with ease. Him and his men held up on the steps of the temple where they fought back the finely armoured Savvage, Oal'durn laughing all the while.

The second was Axyli who was chief amongst the great dragons and was a powerful being whose demise will not be told here for sadly his death will be at the hands of age.

Vanna had watched from the woods edge as the host had charged the city, her Forsaken and monsters tearing Myrrians and Larans limb from limb, their claws and vile weapons cutting jaggedly through flesh and bathing their wake in blood. She revelled in delight as her bats came from the trees and fluttered to the city where they'd pull soldiers high into the air and drop them to their doom. She was no longer garbed in her fair form but rather stood at a great height, taking a grim figure of long slender limbs and appearing thin and gaunt, bearing leathery wings with long fingers branded with iron, her fangs digging into scabbed lips. A twisted halo grew from her head, made of bone, but it was broken and appeared as two broken branches arching towards each other.

Through it all she caught the scent of the traitor, kept in the tower where he stood guard to his lover. She let out a horrendous scream and took flight, a shadow seeming to follow her as she flew across the breath to the crippled walls of the city. From her vantage point Kidimira had seen Vanna coming and fumed as she beheld her, thinking now only of the safety of Medese and Torill. She had taken her spear and descended the tower to find the Songbird and the Illiban, her dearest. Vanna laughed wildly as she watched the horror of the battle from above and Dijynn delighted from the palace he held up in as the Myrrians lay slain, caught in fear at the terrors that had come to his aid. Vanna had flown off to the temple and landed in the square before the steps, standing before Oal’durn and the bodies lain before him, cut down by his blade. She cackled and threw all those before her aside with a single motion, tearing open the wooden doors, climbing the steps and entering the grand cathedral where she was set upon by a group of Sisters set to guard before the statue. Vanna made quick work of them, taking her fairer form and wielding two curved blades, cutting them down with ease and marching off while leaving them laying in pools of their own blood.

She followed Torills scent and found that as she wandered through vast halls and cavernous chambers, she was brought into the bowels of the temple and stood before a stone door that would not open. She tried all forms of magic, sheer force, and even singing, yet the door would not budge. All the while Medese and Torill were quickly alerted by her presence and knew not what to do as Torill knew he could not best her in combat alone and so the two had simply hoped that the door would hold.

As Vanna clawed at the door screaming for Torill, Kidimira had found her, three of Torills pupils at her side. Vanna turned to them slowly while cackling maniacally, her form drawing fear into all those except Kidimira.

The Sisters advanced forward, drawing their blades and attacking Vanna all at once. She dodged ever thrash and slice with ease, the crystal blades whistling wildly as they cut through nothing but thin air. The encircled her and yet Vanna had received ne’er a scratch. As they continued she had come to notice some similarities in their stances, the subtle change in footing and the shifting of weight that told of and oncoming move. Finally Vanna defended, holding her wing over her like a shield, deflected the sword of the nearest Sister, she turned on her heels and flew at the second, drawing up her wing and driving her thumb threw her throat, smashing her against the stone door and killing her instantly. She spun about as the third jabbed at her, grabbing the blade and shattering it with her magic and then grabbing her head and crushing her skull. To the first Sister she turned upon and Vanna grinned, baring her teeth. She drew up her claw and brought it down upon the Sister who stood frozen, but Kidimira had defended against her strike with the feathered spear she held. She had thrown Vanna back, removing her cape and beset her with a swiftness almost equal to the vampiress. She had beaten Vanna down with the blunt of the staff and sliced through flesh and garment with the blade. Vanna returned the aggress with the same intensity and the two danced about in answer to offense and defense, Kidimira holding her ground with her staff. Kidimira made no expression as she fought, her face held in a somber gaze and it was as if she was unfazed by the battle, which only fed into Vanna’s anger. Vanna tested her style and when at last she had seen a fault in the switching of steps between bringing defense from a heavy swivel of the spear. Seeing this Vanna had managed to grab her by the ankle with the thumb of her wing and was about to threw her into the air before she let out an agonizing cry. Weithweid had cleaved her wing from her body, sending out a storm of black mist where blood should’ve spouted forth.The last Sister had struck then too, flying past Kidimira who now laid on the stone floor, and drover her blade threw the vampire's shoulder.

Vanna was sent into a frenzy at this, pulling the sword from her shoulder and shattering it over her knee, sending the Sister flying back with a swat of her wing. To Torill she turned and claws met the black of Weithweid, Torill holding the defensive in hopes of tiring her down. Kidimira recovered herself and took up her spear, running at Vanna and driving it into her back where it pierced out through her stomach. Vanna shrieked and quickly disarmed Torill, sending his blade flying where it was driven into the stone wall. She turned and with a scream had driven her thumb into Kidimira’s chest. Kidimira let out a gasp as the iron claw drove through her ribs, clutching the bony finger of Vanna’s wing. Torill was enraged at this sight and yelled out as her charged her, throwing the full weight of his body against her, sending them both flying. Vanna had managed to land on top of him, holding his arms down with clawed hands, spitting trickling down from scabbed lips, her wing raised and a malicious smile forming as her thumb glinted as it was caught in the light.

Medese stepped out from the chamber at that moment, pulling his wand from beneath his cloak and with a flash of yellow and orange Vanna was blasted into a nearby pillar, sending it crumbling down upon her, her body covered in burning scars where the burst of magic had struck her. Never using his magic as a weapon before, the strength it called of him had sent him falling to his knees clutching his ribs as he gasped for breath, winded by the force of it. Torill had gotten to his feet and ran to pull Weithweid from the wall and with the great sword in his hands he had gone to Vanna and moved to hew her head from her shoulders, but she attacked blindly and wildy, slashing Torill’s thigh open before she had turned to smoke and vanished, fleeing to lick her wounds clean. It was at this time that she would come to Adonu, taking her fairest form before him in order to seduce him back to her allegiance. Adonu was a crazed spell caster now and in his kingdom within the sea of trees, as deep and mysterious as the very seas of Valore, he would come to house Vanna to heal her ailments.

As Kidimira lay there dying, Torill had crawled to her side and put his hand over her open wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Medese was cast in a daze but still managed to hobble over to her, his hand burned by the spell he had cast. Both sat next to Kidimira as her breathing was drawn heavy, Her hand resting over Torills, Medese to weak to heal her and so only wept as he held her other hand, his head resting on Torill’s shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” She had managed to say as she squeezed both the hands she held,

“I-I am so proud of you both,” She added with her eyes meeting Torill’s, tears streaming down both their cheeks.

“Please, Torill, protect them… Protect… my children,” She spoke with a croak to her voice and her hand had moved to rest on his cheek, leaving a marking of blood when her arm fell limp over her chest, the last breath of life leaving her body with a final sigh and there was a ringing silence as neither could come to cry at the death of Kidmira.

Carnage filled the streets, bodies lay strewn about and blood pooled about them. The monsters Vanna had brought tore threw both Savvage and Styorians, leaving a trail of m******e as they made their way to the temple. Oal’durn had held the front with those fleeing to the temple grounds in order to aid in it’s defense. The Sisters who guarded the temple had joined the fray and so the square was filled with Soldiers, many waiting upon rooftops or hidden away in the ruins of the abandoned buildings surrounding the plaza. They watched as the Forsaken charged alongside the Savvage, many being ripped apart when caught in their direct paths. They held still some resemblance of the forms they once held, but were twisted and grown to fearsome heights, letting out moans and screams while crying with every kill, pained by their existence. The monsters that followed them too; Minotaur, werewolves, nagas, and wendigos, all thirsting for more blood. They had all come before Illomon and at this time Vanna had been bested. The Styorians had prepared themselves, chanting prayers in answer to the horrid cries of the invaders.

As Vanna had fled the temple she let out a glass shattering shriek and those under her command had stood still as they watched the black cloud of smoke soar through the sky towards the sea of trees and they followed, fleeing the battle and leaving the forces of Dijynn to their fates as the host before the temple had charged forward amidst the confusion and there the final clash was held.

At this time Dijynn had been calling upon a rescue as he saw the battle was lost. A multitude of star-ships filled the air above the city of Alavosa, cutting off the airships and jets that were sent off to defend Styor. Dragons and many other monstrosities Dijynn had shaped were sent to ravage the provinces about Stior and Prisava and so no aid, save for the Laran who pledged an alliance to Kidimira, had come to answer their dire plea.

The Styorians had claimed victory in the end and as the last few Savvage retreated to their master who was held up in a palace fortified by Dijynns guard and remaining forces. Oal’durn had thought perhaps this would be where Dijynn would fall, at least until Torim rose from his slumber at last. His vast wings opened and his long neck stretched into the air, the sea disturbed with high waves as he rose into the sky. Axyli had guarded the palace and watched with pride as Torim grew angered at the sight of the dead dragons upon the beaches. He let out a thunderous roar and froze the crashing sea about the pillars, destroying the Laran ships docked upon the shores of ice and stone. His breath filled the air too as he cried out like an angered babe, bringing down airships and vissir alike, whom battled still with the wyrms that remained and the giant bats that did not flee with Vanna.

With Torim upon the forces of the air, Dijynn had sent Axyli above and he signalled for the Starships station to come for them amdand they did. They descended from above, dark against the glow cast through smoke and snow, and Dijynn was rescued as the weaponry the Styorians had could not pierce or damage the hulking ships.

As the forces of the palace were taken to the stars, Torim sought now to destroy Illomon himself and he inhaled deeply, breathing in the winter around him, his tail still sweeping the ocean's surface. As he exhaled a blast of ice had fallen upon Illomon and as all looked upon the scene with held breath, thinking Illomon truly doomed, but the blast was held back for Medese was recovered and as he saw Torim rise from the sea and the starships come from the heavens bringing Dijynns escape, he was filled with rage and had climbed the tower to where Kidimira had often stood, where she went seeking solitude and to stand guard when war was not come to her painted city, the archers nest.

He drew his wand once more and held a shield against Torims magic, struggling as the strength he exerted was great. Finally as the two magics had been locked, Torim gave in and his icy breath ceased and Medese, who had absorbed the power of Torim with the shield he had brought forth, double the strength he know had and with the amplified power of the wand had sent a beam of magic that pierced through Torims heart and he was slain.

Torill and Medese carried Kidimira’s body with them as they exited the temple and stood there before those in the plaza, Oal’durn being amongst them. The soldiers were caked in blood and mud, damped by sweat, and powdered with ash and dust. Wounds were held with quivering and bloodied hands, many lay dying from harm to great to be healed by the Brothers. The two paid no mind to the wreckage and defilement before them, instead they walked through the city with solemn cools, all those they passed looked upon Kidimira and wept. Mourning swept through the city as news of Kidimira’s death spread. Medese and Torill carried the body through the city and laid her atop the steps of the pyramid of the star watchers; a flat-topped pyramid in the parliament district that was used often as a place of ceremonial practices in devotion to Ada or the spirits of nature. In truth Kidimira was never truly religious, but held the position of Sayahn due to the election by her peers who looked to her for guidance and wisdom. Her sermons and teachings were of virtue rather than devotion and though she had held great love for Ada in her heart, the compassion and care she felt for those around her was greater. They sat next to her for many hours, then night came and the streets were filled with healers and monks, sent out to bring the wounded to the temple or to crystallize the bodies of the dead.

As there raged a battle in the heavens, star-ships filling the space above Valore, Medese had taken Kidimira’s body to the center of the flat and laid her upon the stone table that stood there. On most nights it'd be decorated with lanterns, bundles of wild flowers, and poems or songs written on parchment. Here though, as the two moons met under the sky, Medese performed his first crystallization.

He began to sing softly and as he did the winds answered his voice and rose and fell with his song:

*enter Dirs evilde muin’enie un se*

As the lamentation came to its end Kidimiras skin had begun to glow and it was if her veins ran with the light of a marvelous nebula. He then placed his hand over her heart and the light beneath her skin shone brighter until her physical form could not be seen through the light. The outline of her body fell and when Medese pulled his hand away there was left only an orb of crystal that shone with all the colors that were Kidimira. The ball held the look of an opal set before the light of a sunset, scattered with millions of shimmering stars that seemed like diamonds caught in the sunlight.

Her remains were not brought to the halls of the dead, nor buried beneath a planted tree, instead she was taken and placed in the hands of Ada, the statue that stands in the grand cathedral and to this day she still rests there, standing guard over the temple once under her regency.

When the ceremony was complete the two joined all those at the Temple and as night turned to day Medese had not slept, instead he walked the halls as he once had so many years ago. The temple echoed with the sound of his voice as he danced barefoot through the pillared corridors, singing songs of joy and mirth. His voice healed many wounds that night and to Torill it healed fully the wounds of his soul.