-0454 Military Hours
-Tartarus Base, Mountain Perimeter

Take a breath, feel the dark calm within wash over closed eyelids. The wondrous scent of the mountain breeze is at the very least, one of familiarity.

I open my eyes to the vale beneath me, the peculiar sight, once again sending my imagination flaring like a frenzied shoal of rivershine scuttlers.

The wind drifting lazily through the slope sends a constant chill through my being, like cold fangs latching onto my skin.

To keep myself from succumbing to the cold shakes, I make sure to keep my arms close to the sides. The Fredgal Alps is higher than I expected, much higher than any mountains I've seen back home.

Each step carries a risk of loose outcrops of rock giving way, a tumble down this high is sure to end in great pain, if not death.

A cautious glance at my battle brothers and sisters beside me is all I need to know they as well feel the need to express their lack of faith in the mountain's eroded surface.

Their concentration to careful footwork prompts my gaze back to the valley beneath, the shuddering black of the Rift the highlight of my vision.

So this is the centre of our mystery...

For all the nimble prowess we possess as scouts, when it comes to the more inquisitive matters of the unknown, we lack the refined art of uncovering and deciphering what is beyond our knowledge.

This quest rightfully belongs to the Inquisitory League, had the war not have taken root with such ferocity.

To pry this fortress open of all its secrets, it will take time... but it can be done. Few people can match an Euralian Scout's keen affinity for details, however subtle it may be.

Much time passes as my cadre traverses down the inner slope whilst I intensely ponder about what my heightened senses have found.

This is unlike prowling behind enemy lines. Taking note of Yhunian Command posts and weaving through their constant patrols is certainly more... normal than this.

"Do you sense it, the untold mysteries?" Oswin mutters, eyes seeking to guard against any perceived dangers from the Human Fortress.

His gaze is to the people strolling about in the organized pavements, lit by the emotionless white of the odd stringed lanterns they seem to prefer.

"I do, there is plenty to uncover here." I will less energy into my eyes, dulling my vision against the beacons of light peppering the valley's gentle decline. The square shaped buildings tower above the few trees that reside in this cradle, each being as flavorless in design as the next, an eyesore to anyone with an affinity for art.

Despite being the centre of my attention, this fortress only occupies a minor portion of the land within the Fredgal Alps, leaving much of the vale shrouded in night's cover.

Human soldiers, clad in their distinct battle armor guard the borders where their white lights give way to darkness, like watchful sentries against any would-be predators or those with less than honorable intentions.

One thing I take note is the manner in which they hold their bulky weapons, they wield it so the end always faces their left side, this could be a hint to these people possessing a military tradition of some kind.

While I would prefer for us to advance closer to the borders of their fortress, the ever present rumble of the aerial construct above made me think otherwise.

As it is, I believe we are already pressing our fortune to the water's edge.

As my steps grind to a crawl, I look to the dark Rift they seem to guard with great reverance. The mysterious oddity captures my admiration with the ease of a rolling wave, washing away all previous thoughts and replacing them with apt curiosity.

I try hard to steal a glimpse of the cold world that lay beyond, only to find it guarded by the Rift's impenetrable black. A pity.

Adrift in wonderment, my lips echo my thoughts. "It strangely is beautiful, like a perfect gem..." A gem that does not shimmer, but remains just as alluring.

Sensing a conversation blooming between my scouts, I give the decree to halt our slow advance. Now partially engulfed by the tall outlying grass, we begin to speak our minds.

"I find their battle dress to be odd, no helm plumes, capes... or even a shield for defense." One of the newer additions to my scouting group comments, a replacement for my fallen comrades who were slain during the first impulsive meeting of our peoples.

"...no wonder they hold such interest from our commanders," he further muses.

Oswin, ever the pragmatic individual adds in his thoughts with a steady mind. "All the more reason to get on with this quest, the Skirmishers are not like us in spirit." The tone suggests the surfacing of unpleasant memories.

It seems his thoughts are still plagued by the way their best warriors fought, from their thunderous cracks to the almost rouge-like way the black knights moved, exploiting Norsera's dense forestry to make up for their inability to form any kind of barrier.

That and the fact he still holds a cold grudge against them for a broken nose. A wounded pride, unpaid to this moment.

"The Lord General would not have sent us here without reasoning, so let's begin shall we?" Rummaging through her field satchel, Sephra ever the diligent Life Mender takes out an assortment of parchments, determined to glean what she could from the human fortress.

"Agreed, the answers lie before us."

Her actions stirred the rest to do the same, to note down what our eyes saw onto the papers we now held, descriptions and detailed sketches steadily filling the empty space with the help of our feathered pens.

As if sensing our intent to remain where we are, the aerial construct above begins flying towards its nest, joining its resting bretheren on the eastern plaza. It was no danger to us after all, as I suspected.

I watch as it glides under the power of its own wings, admiring the strange way it flew. What was it that allowed a swirl of blades to achieve lift?

The more I ponder, the more insane such a concept is. I can't fathom how such a design would even work.

Putting aside my musings, I resume my endeavors in sketching down its sleek form with great care making sure the details are fine and shaded, its odd pair of wings recieving the greatest care.

My sketch is done, though it is lacking a vivid description. I need to add my thoughts about this strange construct right beneath the drawing. Here it goes.

It takes a moment to think of what the first word would be, however once that is done, my hands keep on going, implanting more words onto the parchment with a natural ease.

--------

-Written on the 47th day of summer, Starwheel 509th

The sleek angles, overall shape, and bladed wings are something that must be examined with an open mind.

Just like its creators, it holds... a certain flair of indiscernible mystery.

Even with the night hindering my sharpened sight, it was abundantly clear its form does not stem from attempts at animal mimicry. To my knowledge, there is no creature, living or extinct that would have such a form.

To this end, I believe it to be made purely from the ingenuity of the Skirmishers. In the same principle as a sword or shield, these tools of convenience must have been forged with a singular purpose.

A grand purpose in which they can lay claim to the skies given how well the aerial construct glides or hangs in the air.

If so, I have to say their Tool Artisans' mastery over their trade far exceeds our Kingdom's best, and it remains so even against all the known nations and empires on our continent of Flugal.

A worrying, yet intriguing prospect for my commanders to ponder about once I return.

-Inora Ver'Riya, 4th Euralian Scout Regiment, 21st Royal Cohort, The Prideful Solace Detachment.

------

With my thoughts now in paper, I quickly secure them within the confines of my field satchel.

Remaining tight lipped and watching over my fellow scouts, I patiently wait as they finish up on their own reports.

The soft breeze weaves through the night as we dutifully observe the humans from a distance, confident in the safety basket that is our invisibility spells.

"We move on my decree," I state, voice holding steady with a tinge of urgency. "The southern side will be our next point of interest."

"By your word, though I will say time is against us, it will rise soon," Oswin says.

Knowing him, I knew right away what my trusted comrade is refering to. "Dawn will come soon yes," I answer back, opting for a lecturing tone. "But our goals remain as they are."

My speech insights my trusted comrade to relent on his tone. "I know, perhaps I am too cautious... but I do not want a repeat of that tragedy." A pained expression hangs on my face at Oswin's words.

Out of shame, I look away, a silent wince directed at no one but myself. At a clear loss for words, my shoulders stiffen in well worn discomfort, fingers following suit around my staff.

My eyes are cast behind, overlooking the mountains that were just as dark as my thoughts. The stinging silence endures as I try my best to relinquish the memory of that one-sided fight, my breath frozen in place.

The mistake can never be forgotten, but I must, at the very least learn from it and let it stay in the past. Where it rightfully belongs.

Gathering my inner strength, I release a deep sigh, a burning zeal now present in my eyes. "I won't let that disaster happen again, on this I swear my service to all of you," I proclaim, not a shred of deceit underlining my tone as I turn to face the front.

My declaration is met with nods and a salute, a left fist over the chest, an ancient sign of respect between warriors. It is enough for me.

With nothing left to be said we begin the journey south, channeling our gifts in magic into our legs to take more broader, but still quiet strides.

Moving further down, I keep note of each of the human patrols, noting with an alarming glint that they were indeed mirroring our movement to a certain extent. They seem to be the only ones awake, watchful of our presence as if it were day.

All the more reason to keep a safe distance, I remind myself. Against them, we are not the unseen hunters. But rather, warriors of equal footing. Though perhaps the word equal is rather presumptious, as I still know little about how their tools of war work.

Maintaining my speed, the air strongly billows against my face, brining about a constant howl within the confines of my helmet. Through the vast expanse of the untamed grasslands I went, taking deep gulps of the cold air to fuel my efforts.

Though my legs were more than able to continue their strides, I slow down my pacing, signaling the rest of my scouts to follow suit. Crouching to the ground swiftly, a cold suspicion tickles my mind as I spot an oddity.

Pointing a hand forward, I whisper with caution. "Do you see that."

Up ahead, something is fluttering in the distance, attached to a pole from what I can discern. Beneath it, outcrops of what appears to be rock are layed out in an organized fashion, their shapes are too distinct to have been molded by the land.

A voice quietly responds, the words trailing with curiosity. "Suspicious for it to exist beyond their lit borders." The feminine voice belongs to none other than Sephra.

"What could it be..." I mutter, taking cautious steps forward, ready to conjour a barrier in a moment's need.

The temptation to cast a low powered illuminary flare flashes across my mind, should I? It would certainly reveal what we have stumbled upon, at the cost of drawing more attention from the humans.

After a moment of pondering, I shake my head. The risks are too great I decided.

"We need some clarity." Sephra suggests.

"No... no illuminary flares," I vehemently disagree, tone rocksteady.

"Then, if we wish to discover what lies ahead, we need to get closer." Oswin presses onwards, staff emitting his magic. Taking the front, he vanguards the way forward.

And so we creep closer, towards the fluttering mystery and the outcrops that lay beneath it. From modest strides to timid steps, it is here I come across the closest outcrop.

I kneel in front of it, and upon the closer inspection, I realize it is more accurately a slab, one that is positioned upright. This makes little sense.

Sephra kneels beside me, dragging her hand across the slab in small arcs, the gauntlets flat against its evidently smooth surface. "This is not stone, but something lighter..."

"Then..." I stop my words, looking up to the fluttering mystery ahead, discerning its features. It was a flag, its patterns not at all reminiscent of the Skirmishers.

My heart drops, as a cold wave stings my back. The sharp chill I felt came from within.

The flag...

The two wyverns at arms, the clenched fist between them. And most alarmingly, the Sigil of loyalty and dedication at the top. It was the mark of the Yhunian Rangers, albeit one that was handled wrongly. The coat of arms flutters solemnly at only half height against its pole, the gesture being a clear disregard for dignity.

However a thought enters my mind the next moment. This same gesture could have different meaning to the humans. I can never be certain without asking, but the option is not for the taking.

"This is..." The words hang in my throat, mouth frozen mid-sentence.

This setting is eeriely reminiscent of something I've come to associate with defeat. What we have stumbled upon, is undeniably a mass grave. My count puts the fallen to be more than twenty five, roughly the numbers of a Yhunian Ranger assault team.

With a startled gasp, I jerk back from the slab as if it were a cursed omen. This is a mass grave for Yhunian Rangers, perfectly explaining the small mound of dirt beneath my boots.

Taking two steps back, I mutter a prayer of apology. Sephra remains frozen in place despite the revelation, hand still glued to the slab. Her fingers continue their slow crawl, combing over the surface to find the engravements that would lead her to find the warrior's name.

There was none to be found...

"We know enough..." I say, directing the words to the Life Mender. She ignores my words, opting to chant a eulogy in Vierra's good name.

"Enemy you may have been, formidable in faith and skill. Now you seek the Crystal Herald, she who accepts all." Sephra bows her head, tone leveled yet brimming with care, "...may your spirit be guided into her crystal embrace."

Such a gentle soul she is, even to the enemy.

Looking back to the array of lights denoting the human's claim over this vale, I knew one thing was clear.

A battle was fought here, they won against the enemy. And still, they had the goodwill the bury the slain.

"Unheard of..." I voice the thought, garnering a glance from Oswin to my left.

He takes my entry into silence as a cue to inquire, "What is?"

"Nothing." I say, directing a dismissive wave to his side. "We have what we came here for, disregard my order to head south. We return this instance."

They have always known we are here, and yet we still breath amongst the living. The Rangers must have sent the first flame, in typical Yhunian fasion.

Duties first, questions later their military decrees. Be swift in attack they believe it to achieve, short sighted I say.

They attacked the hermit, and recieved the hidden claw in return.

I cast a final look to the lit fortress in the distance, eying the patroling warriors with a new-found understanding of their nature. Viscious in battle until the need vanishes.

The humans did carry their own codes of honor, inspite of their striking differences in battle and culture. Their motives, while still shrouded in a mist, were undoubtedly not to do harm to the Kingdom.

"Are you certain?" Turning back to face Sephra, her questioning tone prompts me to further explain my reasons.

"The quest is to deem if the skirmishers pose a threat to Drossal," I pause to add weight to my words. "From what we have uncovered, there is strong reasons to believe they're here merely to exist in peace."

"They came from a world of ice, would they really just be content with existing?" I cast a fleeting glance to the rift in response, feeling the eyes of my fellow scouts on me, awaiting an answer.

The life mender has a strong point, a harsh environment breeds barbaric cultures. The untamed cold lands on the northern continent cements that saying as a sturdy truth.

Yet, these humans were the furthest from being that. My intuitions are sure, as sure as the tide.

"Yes," I declare, certain of the truth in my words. Eventually, the rest share my sentiment. None voice their rejections to leave this place, and so we begin the trip back to Drossal.

We leave the Humans in peace, not a shot fired on both our sides. Passing over the indomitable mountains housing their fortress, the familiar expanse of the plains greet my eyes. Up ahead, a sliver of dim red taints the horizon to the east.

I was content with the silence I imposed upon myself, admiring the gentle ambience given off by nature. The bristling leaves cater to my ears as I walk, adding nicely to the early morning chirps of the insects hiding within.

Looking to my sides, I find a smile gracing my lips upon noticing my fellow scouts at ease. We are certainly out of danger this far away from the hidden fortress.

If fortune favours us, a Silverwing patrol may spot our presence, just like the last quest. With the rising sun now sending in gentle rays of yellow amidst a newborn sky of blue, that might just be a certainty.

I would love to feel the air rushing against my face again. A girl can wish, even in the face of war.

======

-0652 Military Hours
-Approaching Airspace of Drossal

Watching the morning sun, being far above the ground as I sit on top of a creature that should have existed only in books and mythology. This was my situation.

Oddly specific, which is why months ago, I wouldn't even have thought of anything remotely resembling this. Yet here I am, against all odds. On the back of a massive reptile, with an indegenious rider supervising its flight.

These roaming thoughts were unnecesery, yet I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them. It was preferable to just sitting around with an empty head.

An audible sigh escapes my lips, as I let out a little bit of steam. That action did not go unnoticed by my men, earning me a few seconds of their attention.

"How you holding up?"

"Little bored, just that," I say half-heartedly, shaking my head to signify my apathy.

"Your shoulder I meant." The voice takes on an assertive tone.

Facing the source of that voice, I reply back with an answer, "Biofoam's keeping the pain in check."

Moving my bad shoulder around to test the severity of the wound, I note the pain to be within negligible levels.

The anti-bacterial, tissue regenerative polymer has come a long way since its inception in the Private Sector, I'll give it to the civilian world for coming up with this. Despite being dressed just over two hours ago, the healing provided by the foam is still in effect.

"I shouldn't need further attention," I shortly add on, solidifying my tone to convince James. As the team's medical officer, he has the final say in all things related to our wellbeing.

He shakes his head, "That's not enough for me, I'll watch you closely just in case. Anything out of the ordinary, sound off ASAP."

That response didn't come as a surprise. "I will." In his defense, the product has only been in service for three years.

"That's all I ask." Arms still folded, James sends a grateful nod my way. I likewise mirror the gesture, before turning my sights back to the horizon.

The sky was a healthy canvas of blue, patterned by the occasional cloud. And aside from a few passing flocks of Banshees, there was nothing much in the air to note. The forest beneath however was gradually giving way to grass plains, pockets of civilization visible in the form of paved roads and clusters of houses.

"Is this the place you were refering to?" I begin, directing the question to the woman at the front. Might as well continue on with our previous conversation, now that the topic is beneath us.

Myandra tentatively answers, tone seemingly reflective, "Indeed, it isn't as grand as Drossal itself... but this town was where I was born and raised. My people hunt and live off the Norsera forest, trusting our senses above all."

"And your magic?"

"Decided at one's birth, a gift from the Crystal Herald to those who she deems worthy."

With nothing much to say, I simply add in a word to acknowledge her, feigning mild curiosity. "Interesting..." Although my tone begs to differ.

Tension slowly builds up, as I notice her continue to stare at me with intent. It seems there is more the Seeker wanted to spill out, but she kept it under wraps.

"What is it?" I decide to pry into her behaviour.

"By this point, the Ranger's cursed spell should have you in deep agony."

"Your point being?" I fail to see how that relates to her behaviour right now.

"This miracle you call biofoam, it heals a cursed wound in mere moments. An experienced life mender would have taken much longer to achieve the same."

So this is what that stare was all about?

I have a vague idea on what she is implying. "Don't give me that look, biofoam doesn't have an ounce of magic in it."

"I see." That stops her in a tracks, the stare no longer piercing, but rather confused. It was hard to tell what exactly was her thought process behind that helmet.

Silence returns to fill in the emptiness. With the rushing air being the only constant to my ears, I revert back to thinking about our situation. A frown graces my lips as the image of a black Rift enters my mind, Cygnus is out of reach, which equates to our supplies being cut off.

Key resources like food, ammunition and most importantly, manpower are now limited. With no way of returning to Earth for the foreseeable future, even factors such as morale began to affect the workload of everyone stationed on this side of the Rift.

No one was spared from the fear of never seeing home again, I was no exception to this. It was one thing to explore something new, but it was another thing entirely if you had no way of going back to the things you were familiar with.

There's no telling how Daniel Cooper will react to this...

"...do you think we'll be stuck here?" Douglas breaks the air with a rhethorical question.

Out of the four of us, he was the only one with a wife and kid, a daughter. It is only wistful thinking to assume I could relate to what he must be feeling right now.

"Honestly, I won't fully believe Jupiter Contingency until I see that rift with my own eyes," Robert proclaims.

"You know it's not up to our hands to change it. Hurts to say this but," James briefly stops, "in the worst case scenerio, Earth is as good as gone for us."

"...." I opt to keep my thoughts to myself.

"I wouldn't bet on it, it might go back to normal."

"Hard to say... that thing was never normal to begin with."

The first signs of Drossal come into view amidst their consideration of Humanity's place in New Eden, or rather the lack thereof.

High walls line the outskirts of Drossal, protecting its buildings and inhabitants within, one of the city's many traits of being a fortress. Looking sturdy even at a distance, it was evident the walls were made to withstand a lot of punishment before even collapsing.

These people were highly advanced in their own way, different from Humanity in every way that counts.

These days however, I could say they are a familiar bunch.

======
-0742 Military Hours
Drossal Royal Palace, Reception Chamber

"You're not kidding right?"

"With all due respect, I wouldn't do that."

Pacing back and forth, Ambassador Cooper places a hand to his chin, eyes lost in deep thought. "What a mess..."

"You'll need to make the arrangements to leave immediately, so consider your assignment postponed until further notice," Douglas adds in, doing admirably well in keeping his stoic persona.

"A-alright, just let me sort things out with those guys first." Cooper points his head towards a notable group a fair distance away.

I make out six people in that group. Four of them were carrying a notable amount of books, wearing a complex garb of interesting design. Light blue mixed with a hint of silver on the edges.

Standing at attention to the rear, with a staff firmly locked in their hands, are the remaining two guards comprising that group. Showing once again their uncanny ability to remain still.

Near an open window, their armor gleams in the morning sunlight, not a single speck of dust resting on the gold plating. It was remarkably clean, so much that even the most laser-eyed instructor would fail to find any fault in that.

Finding no reason to observe them any longer, I turn my eyes towards the retainer I was most familiar with.

Meeting a pair of violet eyes, I decide to send her my regards. "You have my thanks for looking after our Ambassador." It was short, but the intended message is sent across.

Taking a few moments to formulate a response, Anhj waves a dainty hand across her front. "It was of no hindrance, your Emissary has been very cordial towards me and my fellow retainers. I can see why your people chose him for this exchange of knowledge."

"Good to hear." I reply with a curt nod, voice in line with my demeanor. The sooner we get back to Tartarus, the better.

"There is a question I would like to ask," she continues, much to my initial surprise, "if you do not mind that is."

Curious as to what that may be, I give her my approval. "Go ahead." I spare a look towards Cooper, noting he was still in the process of tying his strings with Faction Alpha.

"Why do you hide behind that helmet of yours?" Out of all the things she could say, this isn't what I was expecting.

"Many reasons." To keep my Identity unknown. Because it symbolizes who I am. There were a slew of reasons I could cook up to answer her question.

However, the most relevant one I could muster was this. "But first and foremost, I like to think of it as my second face."

"..." Anhj didn't give off a reply to my statement. But from her expression alone I could tell she was deciphering my words as they are. Perhaps trying to find the reasons as to why I said that.

"Jerome, we're green to go. Our Guide's probably waiting for us at the top." Robert calls out to me. I send a brief glance his way, wordlessly signifying my acknowledgement.

Given more time, she could have given back an appropriate response. Her face alone tells me she wasn't done with our conversation.

I leave the young lady to her own devices, climbing up the flight of stairs leading up to the open platforms. The last thing I saw of the retainer is her retreating form, pale white hair swaying down her back as she went on with her day.

"Any idea what happens once we get back to base?" Cooper inquires in between his steps.

"No idea, we'll just have to see what our next move will be," I answer his question, at least to the best of my ability. Facing the front, I could only vaguely speculate on what the future holds for us.

"Riding on their mounts back to Tartarus..."

"Sir?" I spare a questioning look to Cooper.

You know if Jupiter Contingiancy wasn't called, you might have landed yourself a court martial." He directs the last few words at me.

"Fully aware, I did it to save fuel. God knows we're not getting any more."

It was the right call at that time, and it still is in my opinion.

======
-0939 Military Hours
-Southern Archipelogo, Visegrad Island.

In times of peace, it is unheard of to presume the unknown to be a danger and call upon the arms of battle. It has changed.

The northern coast has been tainted with the presence of the unknown beings, while their bladed-winged mounts roam the air with an aura of arrogance, being the noisy masters of the wind.

I sense a warm presence behind me. "It will be two days until the Grand Cabal's ships arrive." Feeling slender arms wrap around my neck, I turn my head to nuzzle against my wife's check.

"Which gives them two days to cement their holdings... they've driven the Armidyles off our island. I'm... worried we might meet the same fate." I express my worries to Maira, she responds with a gentle smile.

"They did not do the village folk harm when their dark stalkers were here, perhaps there is hope for peace."

The wonderful sight washes away all of my worries, her smile is brighter than the sun at its peak. Turning my body fully towards her, my arms instinctively snake their way around her waist, embracing her figure against mine.

"I love you," I whisper against her ear, utter happiness coursing through my veins.

For the moment, everything is of irrelevance.

The passing village folk through the window, the impending arrival of the Elven warriors, and the threat posed by the unknown beings, none of those were worthy of my thoughts whilst I am with the ocean's most beautiful maiden.

===end===

If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit. Different approaches to the same problem, it's all about the perspective.

-Quote of the day, Unknown Author