After Nyx left, we all stood amidst the chaos of Skam Square. I snapped out of divine mode, rubbing my aching head, and glanced at Zira, Alden, and Ember.
"You guys alright?" I asked, my voice weary.
Zira, still visibly shaken, slapped me lightly with a blink strike. "You scared me! I've never seen that side of you before—I thought you might actually kill him!" She purred, her eyes wide with relief.
"Sorry," I said, rubbing my cheek. "The divine leader was a bit worried you all might get hurt."
Ember, always quick to seize a moment, chuckled with a hint of pride. "Did you all see what I did to Orion? I didn't even know I could move that gracefully!"
"You got it from your graceful leader," I muttered with a grin.
Ember playfully punched me on the arm, making me wince.
I turned to Alden, who was kneeling by the shattered scepter, his eyes focused intently. I approached him, concerned. "What's going on?"
He pointed at the former giants who were now shrinking back to their original sizes. The citizens of Skam Square, who had gathered to witness the transformation, gasped as they recognized their loved ones among the once-giant figures.
A woman, her face streaked with tears, rushed forward and embraced a now-normal-sized man. "Elias! It's really you!" she cried, holding him tightly.
Elias, bewildered but relieved, returned the embrace. "I'm here. I'm really here," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.
Nearby, a young girl clutched her father's hand as he shrank back to his regular form. "Daddy, you're back!" she exclaimed, her eyes brimming with joy.
Her father knelt down, hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long. I'm here now, and I won't leave again."
I smiled as I watched the joyous reunions unfolding around me. Families embraced, and friends were reunited, their faces alight with relief and happiness. The scene was a bittersweet reminder of the cost of our victory.
My gaze shifted to the grim remains of Gerard and his niece lying amidst the aftermath. With a heavy heart, I approached them. "I guess they're not coming back. They're gone for good," I murmured, my voice tinged with regret. "I shouldn't have asked you to make that sacrifice, Gerard. Sable was a psychopath who destroyed his own family. Without Nyx, I might have crossed a line I wouldn't be able to undo."
I knelt beside them, the weight of their loss settling heavily on my shoulders. "When I build my kingdom, it will be a place where diversity is not just accepted but celebrated. A place where everyone can find their place and be valued."
As I spoke, Zira, Alden, and Ember stood silently behind me, their presence a silent testament to the bonds we had forged through our trials.
Zira and Ember's bodies suddenly began to pulse with a green glow.
"Uh, Gaian…" Zira called out, her voice laced with confusion.
Before I could respond, their forms shimmered and, with a soft poof, they transformed. Ember shifted back into a small, striped owl, while Zira towered before us once more, her sleek form returning to that of a majestic tigress.
"No!" Ember cried, hopping up and down in frustration, her tiny wings flapping wildly. "I want my other body back!"
I shook my head, trying not to laugh as I gently scooped her up in my hands. "It's nothing to cry about, Ember. Look at Zira—she's not complaining."
Ember huffed, crossing her little wings. "That's because Zira's a badass! It's completely different!"
I sighed, setting Ember on my shoulder, where she perched with a little huff. "At least you've got your golden feathers back," I offered, trying to lighten the mood.
Alden approached, his tone thoughtful. "You know, when I was younger, I studied all of Nocturne Raven's secrets. I came across mentions of creatures with body-transforming blood," he said, his voice calm but curious. "If I find one then maybe you can change back."
Ember's eyes lit up, and she hopped over to his shoulder in excitement. "Really?! This is why you're my favorite, Dark Warden!" she chirped, her earlier frustration melting away.
I chuckled and hopped onto Zira's broad shoulders. She growled in mild annoyance, tilting her head to glance at me. "What are you doing?"
"I don't have wings anymore, and I'm pretty light for someone like you," I teased, grinning as she let out a low growl but didn't shrug me off.
Just as I was about to decide our next move, the citizens of Skam Square gathered, bowing low in unison. Their voices rose together, almost rehearsed, "Celestial vessels, we have been deceived by Sable for ten years! We were forced to fight our loved ones as giants, mind-controlled to do his bidding. Now, our town lies broken. We have no home, no future. We humbly ask to follow you. You spoke of building a kingdom; please, allow us to be the first citizens under your rule."
I crossed my arms, smiling elegantly. "It's wise you've chosen me, the divine one, to lead you. However, there's a small problem—I don't actually have a kingdom. Not yet, anyway. I'm technically the secret ruler of Tigris Dominion, but Queen Shina holds the real power."
Zira purred in agreement. "Speaking of Shina, have you talked to her recently?"
I sighed. "Nope. Soulless Sagea cut off the connection between us when we were in the Dragon's Roost. I can't speak to her anymore."
"{Sorry, Onee-chan! I was a bad girl, don't punish me,}" Ember said timidly, trying to play the innocent act.
I groaned and smacked my forehead. "Cut that out!" I scolded, shaking my head. "Anyway, I've decided we're heading to Tigris Dominion—formerly Glimmerfen."
At that, everyone around us erupted into cheers. I turned to Zira, still perched on her shoulders. "Zira, I need you to bring the Ark."
Without a word, she sped off in a blur, and I had to grip tight as the wind rushed past, ruffling my hair. Moments later, she returned, stopping abruptly.
"It's not there," Zira muttered.
Our jaws dropped in unison. "What do you mean it's not there?!" I asked, eyes wide.
Zira crossed her arms, her expression serious. "Exactly what I said. It's. Not. There."
"Well, check again!" Alden said nervously, his eyes darting around.
I coughed, struggling to keep the nausea down. "Wait—!" I barely got the word out before Zira took off again, running back to the woods in a flash. By the time she returned, I couldn't hold it any longer. I leaned over and vomited onto the ground.
"It's still not there. The Ark is gone!" Zira declared, her tone more serious now.
Ember's eyes widened in panic. "What do you mean, gone?!" She quickly closed her eyes, trying to sense its presence, but nothing. Her feathers ruffled as she attempted to summon her crystal ball, only to come up empty.
"My Ark!" she screamed, her voice trembling with distress.
"Wait, if you all can fly, why does an Ark matter?" a random citizen asked, clearly confused.
I looked down, my voice turning serious. "The Ark is wanted for 100,000,000 moonstones. Whoever stole it either wants the money or wants us."
"ALSO, IT'S NOT JUST SOME ARK!" Ember suddenly shrieked from Alden's shoulder, hopping up and down. "IF I STOLE YOUR KID, WOULD YOU CALL IT 'JUST SOME KID'?! Hold me back, Alden!" She was practically vibrating with rage, and Alden gently held her back from lunging at the man.
"Except... a kid isn't an inanimate object…" Alden muttered under his breath, glancing nervously at her.
Ember shot daggers at him with her eyes. "My Ark wasn't some inanimate object! It helped us the first time Vex attacked! I was gonna paint it, decorate it. Now it's gone!" she cried, her tiny owl form trembling in frustration. Zira let out a long sigh. "It shouldn't be a surprise that Nyx stole it. But is it really wise to fly around without it, considering Gaian doesn't have wings and Ember can't fly?"
I paused, thinking over her words. "I don't know. We haven't found another vessel yet. But I'm more worried about Tigris Dominion." Zira crossed her arms, a determined look in her eyes. "What if I fly there? It'll only take a second." I shook my head at the suggestion. "No, if Nyx did steal the ark, then they're most likely Crimson Talon members awaiting our arrival. We can't afford to walk right into their trap."
Alden nodded in agreement. "Plus, if they've been tracking us, flying ahead alone would make you an easy target. We don't know what kind of firepower they have waiting." Zira clenched her fists. "So what do we do then? Sit around and wait for them to strike first?"
"Patience," I said calmly. "We have to think smart. There could be more of them than we know, and if we lose you, it might tip the scales in their favor." Ember fluttered her wings nervously. "Besides, you don't know what Nyx is planning. You flying off could just make everything worse." Zira huffed, the frustration clear in her eyes, but she relented. "Fine, but we better come up with a plan soon. I won't sit around while they have the upper hand."
Meanwhile, Nyx tossed Avol's unconscious nightfox body, along with Orion and Sable, against a tree with a heavy thud. Avol and Orion lay motionless, and Sable's skin was still covered in snowy scales, his breaths ragged.
"Wait, no! I can keep fighting!" Sable hissed, struggling to sit up. "I'm a member of the Crimson Talons!"
Without hesitation, Nyx moved like a blur, slicing through Sable's tongue in an instant. Blood poured from his mouth as Sable clutched his face, eyes wide with pain and fear.
"Shut up. You're not a true member, you pathetic punk," Nyx sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
Sable whimpered, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to stanch the bleeding.
Nyx crouched beside him, glaring coldly. "You had the crown that granted you the power of anyone from the Shadowveil Era—and you wasted it, losing to Gaian." His voice grew darker. "You had a scepter that could have done anything, but you used it to turn your own daughter and brother into grotesque giants, ruling over Skam Square like a coward after killing its hero. You're nothing but a joke. A mascot for the Crimson Talons."
Tears streamed down Sable's face, and he tried to speak through his agony. "That's not true! Vex himself—"
Before the words could leave his lips, Nyx slashed across his eye. Sable screamed in agony, clutching his bleeding face.
"Never speak of Vex again," Nyx growled, his face twisted with fury. "Once the Crimson Talons find the rest of the Shadow Flock vessels, Avalon and every continent beyond will fall at our feet. We don't need a deadweight like you dragging us down."
Nyx stood, looking down at Sable with disgust. "Get out of Avalon and never come back. If I ever see your face again, I'll finish the job." His voice was low, dangerous, and final.
Sable whimpered, his breath ragged and uneven as Nyx walked away, dragging the unconscious bodies of Orion and Avol through the dirt. Left alone, Sable's trembling hand pressed against the blood-soaked wound where his eye had been, his face twisted in pain and rage.
"I'll kill them... all of them," he spat through gritted teeth, his voice rising to a desperate cry. "I'll kill them all!"
Blood poured from his mutilated eye as his body shook violently, consumed by fury and humiliation. His words echoed through the empty forest, but no one was left to hear his broken vows of revenge.
Back at Skam Square, morning sunlight streamed into the small house where Ember stirred from sleep, yawning as the warmth touched her face. She jumped out of bed, walking over to the window, and flung it open. "WHY AREN'T YOU OUT FINDING MY ARK?!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing outside.
Alden was probably reading somewhere, Zira out hunting, and I was sprawled across the bed, half-buried in pillows. "Shut up, I'm trying to sleep," I groaned, rolling over and burying my face in the mattress.
"No! I won't shut up!" Ember huffed, crossing her arms, though a glimmer of satisfaction crossed her face. "Although, I'm grateful Alden got me back into this avian body." She glanced down at herself, tracing the lines of her form with an almost hypnotic fascination before shaking her head to snap back to reality. "But we still haven't found Emberlyn!"
"You named the ark after your ancestor?" I asked, sitting up as I ruffled my feathers, willing them to transform into clothes. "That's… weird."
"Hey, it's a family heirloom!" Ember snapped, her voice rising with frustration. "You don't understand the bond I had with that thing!"
I sighed and got up, stretching as I walked to the window. "Not really," I muttered, looking out at the town below. "It's been a week. The people of Skam Square have finally recovered from that night. But we haven't seen Sable or that Nyx person since. And we still don't know anything about the other vessels." I let the breeze ruffle my feathers as I stared into the distance.
Ember raised an eyebrow. "Who are you talking to? And why are you suddenly sounding all dramatic?" she asked, crossing her arms.
I plucked a single feather from my wing, holding it between my fingers, watching as the wind took it. "Will I ever be able to find them? Stop the Shadow Flock? Build my own kingdom?" I mused aloud, releasing the feather to the breeze. It danced away, spinning through the air like a fleeting thought.
Ember rolled her eyes. "Great, now you're monologuing to the wind."
In Moonshadow Dominion, a land cloaked in perpetual twilight, where the moon never set and cast an ethereal glow over everything. The trees were tall and gnarled, their branches reaching out like twisted fingers. Mist clung to the ground, swirling around ancient ruins half-buried in the earth. Craggy mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks disappearing into the darkened sky. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and something unnameable, something lurking just beneath the surface.
King Malachar stood at the window of a small, dimly lit room, cluttered with remnants of a girl's past—a bed, scattered trinkets, and a faded picture on the nightstand. He gazed out at his kingdom, his eyes narrowing. "Soon," he muttered, the word barely a breath.
Suddenly, the door burst open with a crash. A knight stumbled in, wide-eyed and frantic. "Sir! The bearer of bad news!" he shouted.
Malachar flinched, his calm broken. With a sharp movement, he flash-stepped in front of the man, his dark eyes now inches from his. "Alright, bearer," Malachar drawled, his voice low and dangerous, hand stroking his chin. "What is it?"
The knight swallowed hard, stammering as he tried to regain his composure. "Sir! That girl—"
Before he could finish, lightning cracked through the room. The knight collapsed to the floor, convulsing, smoke rising from his armor. Ravyn stood in the doorway, a rod sparking in her hand. Behind her, the fallen bodies of Malachar's winged knights lay scattered like discarded toys.
"Hello, King Malachar," she said coolly, stepping over the smoldering body without a glance. Her expression was one of practiced indifference.
Malachar didn't react. He merely stepped aside with a deadened look in his eyes. "Ravyn, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His voice was hollow, devoid of warmth.
Ravyn sauntered into the room, her eyes scanning the familiar space. She stopped at the bed and, with effortless strength, lifted it aside as if it were weightless. "Do I need an invitation to my own room?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
Malachar turned, picking up a faded picture of the two of them together, back when things were different. "Are you staying this time?" he asked quietly, leaning against a drawer, his gaze never leaving the photograph.
Ravyn peeled off her outer shirt, revealing the scars from battles long past. Beneath the fabric of her undershirt, a fresh wound glistened on her neck—carved initials, 'CT,' for Crimson Talons.
"So," Malachar said, his voice soft but laced with contempt, "this is what you've become? A pawn under some man, just because you're the vessel of one of the Shadow Flock?"
Ravyn's eyes flashed with something—anger, regret, or maybe both. She remained silent, cleaning the wound, as Malachar's words hung in the air between them like a storm waiting to break.
"I was out of line," Ravyn muttered, setting the bed down with a soft thud. "It's just... discipline from—" She turned toward the door, ready to leave, but Malachar moved swiftly, blocking her path.
"Discipline?" he echoed, his voice dripping with bitterness. He placed the picture frame down with deliberate care, then cracked his neck, a tense silence filling the room. "Maybe that's the problem. I failed you. I didn't discipline you. I broke my promise to your mother... I didn't exorcise Zephyr when I had the chance." His eyes hardened, resolve growing in his tone. "But now, I will."
With a fluid motion, he drew a gleaming sword from behind his cloak, its edge humming with enchanted energy. "Magical power: Exorcist Blade," he intoned, the blade glowing with ancient runes. "I'm getting my daughter back."
Ravyn let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping. She dropped her rod to the ground, the tension in her body giving way to resignation. "I'm already feeling pretty shitty," she muttered, cracking her knuckles, her eyes burning with defiance. "Fighting my father might be exactly what I need right now."
Moments later…
Ravyn stood over her father's fallen form, her chest heaving with labored breaths. Her body was battered, bruises forming across her skin. Malachar lay on the ground before her, his severed arm smoking, blackened from the lightning that coursed through him. He gasped for air, blood pooling around the jagged stump where his arm had been.
She glanced down at him, her expression unreadable. "That was too close," she said, her voice hoarse. "You almost exorcised him. Almost."
She turned away, her wings beginning to unfurl, shadows flickering against the walls. "Because of that, I'm using my connections to make sure you end up in Robonstone Prison. You, and all your knights." She paused at the door, casting one last look at her father, now broken and defeated. "Goodbye, Father."
With a powerful beat of her wings, she launched into the air, leaving Malachar behind in silence, his kingdom crumbling around him.
Days later, Malachar sat on the cold stone floor of his cell in Robonstone Prison, his once-regal figure diminished, missing an arm. The walls were damp, and the air was thick with despair. He stared blankly at the stump of his arm, flexing his remaining hand. "I have to get out of here… and kill Vex," he muttered, clenching his teeth.
A shadow loomed over him, and he looked up. His knights—at least a hundred of them—stood in the surprisingly large cell, each one bandaged and scarred, their faces twisted with rage.
The leader of the group stepped forward, eyes blazing with hatred. "Former King Malachar," he sneered, "you're the reason we're here. We were the strongest kingdom, and you threw it all away, obsessed with saving that wretched daughter of yours. We feared you for your magic, but now…" He smiled cruelly. "Without your magic, you're nothing. We're going to kill you."
The knights brandished makeshift weapons—shanks, pipes, anything they could find. The tension in the cell grew thick.
Malachar stood, towering over them, his presence still commanding despite his weakened state. "You think I was king only because of my magical prowess?" he asked, his voice low and menacing. He picked up a dirty cigarette from the floor, turning it over in his hand as he spoke. "What's the difference between me and Clawfeather? He's powerful too, right?"
The knights hesitated, confused by his calmness.
"The difference is…" Malachar's eyes flashed as he suddenly jabbed the cigarette into the lead knight's eye. The man screamed, but before anyone could react, Malachar elbowed him hard in the back, slamming him into the ground. "I'm a strategist."
The room erupted as the other knights charged at him, weapons raised. But Malachar moved with blinding speed, slipping through their attacks. "And not just that," he continued, grabbing another knight's face and smashing it into the stone floor. "I'm fast."
Within seconds, Malachar had taken all of them down, their bodies sprawled on the ground, bruised and bloodied. He stood over them, panting, his eyes cold and unforgiving.
"These knights… they're useless now," he said, barely glancing at the fallen men. He turned his gaze to a figure sitting casually against the wall, twirling a toothpick in his mouth. The man had wild, fiery, feather-like hair and a jagged black scar that ran from his right ear, across his lips, to his left ear.
The man chuckled, his voice a mixture of amusement and madness. "You're an interesting old man, Malachar. Most people in here die quietly, but you… well, you've caught my attention. I'm sure you've heard of me."
Malachar's expression remained cold as he nodded. "You're Jack the Ripper… the most notorious killer in Avalon. Slayer of women."
Jack laughed, a high-pitched cackle that echoed through the cell. "Oh, I'm famous! It almost brings a tear to my eye. We'll get out of here soon, Malachar—or should I say… partner?"
Malachar met Jack's crazed gaze with an unreadable expression. "Partner," he muttered, sealing their twisted alliance as the cell seemed to darken with the weight of what was to come.