The aftermath of the fight with Ziev was a lot more far-reaching than anyone had likely expected. Plenty of strange happenings had been taking place all over the world, from earthquakes, to greater than usual ash clouds, to massive storms, all kinds of trials have plagued the world. Now it seems that even usually passive and harmless creatures have been becoming aggressive. Most other things hadn’t been traced back to the god of space and time’s demise, but the incensed orb of angry origin matter currently causing havoc in the Lantern Light Wood specifically seemed to be a direct consequence of the destruction of the Sol Stone. The danger the creature posed was greater than most monsters considering the great power and volatility of the origin matter, and given the current stance of the crown trying to keep the truth about the gods under wraps only those who had faced Ziev himself were really deemed able to handle the situation at hand.

So it was that Cirice found herself in Moonglade with her beloved godfather Cyran to protect the countryside and try to get the situation under control. Hitia pulled Mother Moon's Mystical Flying Library’s Wagon through the underbrush with very little difficulty, following the path of destruction that had cut a swathe of desolation through the forest.

“This is impressive…” She says, surveying the damage. “It looks like a slice was taken out of the world… I hope we can handle this, Cyran. The Mage's Guild wants all the information they can get on this thing. If we can capture it and take it back that would be the best!”

One would have to be a fool to think that the battle with the god of space himself in the wake of the Sol Stone hunt would be an isolated event. And yet, it was difficult to think wrap your head around the magnitude of such a thing. Cyran had taken to thinking about the battle with Ziev as an anomaly - the then versus the now. It made it easier to think about what had happened to him and the others that had been trapped with only a manic cultist to depend on for survival.

But the world was already beginning to change.

It was almost as if reality seemed to be… blurring. Anomalies were happening across the realm - crustaceans overwhelming Sol City, freak tidal waves and aggressive monsters in the Crescent Isles.

… The earthquake in Darkveil.

The destruction of Cyran’s livelihood burned, an ever-present reminder of what Ziev had taken from him, even if not directly. The kids were safe in Sol City with Veliky’s help, but Cyran still aches from the loss, nonetheless. Reconstruction efforts would take a long time, and a lot of money. Money Cyran didn’t have. Which was why he’d launched himself into a cavalcade of odd jobs, one after another, to collect the necessary funds, and take his mind off things. And somewhere along the way, Cirice had asked his help taking care of one of these anomalies - origin matter, a piece of space itself given life, that was currently rampaging through the Lantern Light Woods.

He was currently settled in Cirice’s wagon, Yeux fluttering a little ahead to scope out their surroundings and keep an eye out for their target. If it hadn’t been for the damage left in the origin matter’s wake, Cyran might not have been able to track it at all. How did one search for the essence of nothing?

He hummed in response to Cirice’s comment.

“It reminds me of a black hole…” He turned to look at her. “Have you heard of that phenomenon? Astronomers describe it as pure nothing, so empty that it swallows up its surroundings in the sky until everything around it is destroyed.”

But to capture it… how was one supposed to do such a thing? But Cirice had been so passionate about her studies ever since she entered the Mage’s guild, almost moving with renewed purpose after having her confidence wane in the Sultan’s Tomb. Cyran adored getting to see the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke of everything she was learning and accomplishing.

And if it meant making her happy and helping with her studies, Cyran would capture the uncapturable.

In a heartbeat.

“I think the two of us will be just fine.” Despite the destruction around them, Cyran felt calm. “You’ve progressed so much with your magic and your blade. Just remember to stay calm, keep a level head, and don’t let your emotions overwhelm you in the heat of battle. I’m right there by your side. Always.”

“A black hole? Hmm… I’m not sure. But how could nothingness eat up everything around it? It’d have to do something with all the stuff…” Cirice mused as they made their way through the woods. “I’ll do my best. I’m pretty good at staying calm in a fight, unless someone gets hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt. If the thing is as dangerous as they say we’ll need to be extra careful. The guild wants to study it though and if I can get more information on it they’ll be happy. We should probably leave the wagon behind though. I don’t want to lose my books to a space monster.”

The wagon stops moving and she hops down, petting Hitia and making sure everything looks good. Out of her books her spellbook floats up and forms into a vaguely humanoid shape from about fifteen tomes. If one looked closer they’d notice that the books in question were romantic in nature, mostly featuring spicy topics and mostly by the author Isklad.

The golem looks to Cyran and words form on the pages of his face, asking in beautiful calligraphy, “Master Cyran what do you expect will be most effective against this creature? According to my research physical attacks are less so than magical.”

"Ars, leave Cyran alone. He doesn't need to sign any of the books." Cirice chides with a giggle as she enters the wagon. She takes a small fuzzy cloak off its peg of honor and settles it comfortably on her shoulders. "Okay, let's go find one of Ziev's balls!"

---

Bringing: Ars Goetia the book golem and Kevin the bone naga

“I’m not quite sure… I’m no astronomer.” He assumed that whatever the black holes absorbed were broken apart and destroyed, making the black hole bigger and bigger. Cyran could only guess that Origin Matter worked the same way. But those were all theories. These… creatures, for lack of a better term, were not well documented. “We should keep our space, just in case. Stick back with Crestfallen.” Regardless of his complicated feelings about her weapon, its versatility between close range and distance was somewhat of a comfort to Cryan. Especially now, given what they were after.

“Yes, let’s not risk your wagon.”

He stood, making his way outside while Cirice’s construct formed itself behind her - Ars Goetia, if he remembered correctly. He, unfortunately, recognized most of the titles that made up the golem’s body. Elegant scrawl appeared on the golem’s face, and Cyran had to squint, leaning forward to get a better look at what Ars was asking.

“Hmm.” He didn’t like the prospect of his daggers being ineffective. “Let’s stick to ranged spells to begin with.” He wasn’t especially worried about Cirice on that front. The young woman was leagues more powerful than him in terms of magic. Cyran had spells here and there, but his magic was less a learned thing and more just something that was apart of him, that he drew upon when needed.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” He replied with a laugh. He honestly found Cirice’s love of collecting animals and companions rather cute. He nodded while Cirice pulled her pelt cloak from the hook, ready to set off, when Cirice fixed him with a determined look and uttered the most unfortunate phrase he’d heard in his three and a half centuries of life.

“Erm, maybe don’t… call the Origin Matter that.” He mumbled, setting off after Cirice through the woods. Yeux fluttered in the air in front of them, the seeing-eye bat doing a rather ineffectual job at keeping a lookout for danger as always.

---

Bringing Pets
Yeux (Vampire Bat)

“You’d be the coolest astronomer though.” Cirice winks at him. “Wait why not call them Ziev’s balls, that’s what they are, aren’t they? According to the guild they’re supposedly a manifestation of space magic in an orb shape. They’re even thought to be servants of Ziev… Would calling them Ziev’s eyes be better?” She ponders that for a moment.

“You know… I found it odd that Ziev was supposedly this great mage before he became a god but he barely used any magic against us when we fought… He mainly tried to crush us under his fist. The only real magic he did was rewind time… I wonder why? What if the Origin Matter actually is a manifestation of his power and he scattered it around as we fought him so he didn’t really die?”

She stops and stands there, thinking about it for a long moment, pondering the possibility of fighting a piece of divinity once again. “Ars… Write that theory down for me and we’ll see what we can learn about it.”

Dutifully the golem’s face changes to record her words before they begin their trek once again. Cirice slows her walk, quieting her footsteps so as to try to sneak up on the creature as the smell of damaged vegetation gets stronger. The devastation of the forest is fresher here meaning the creature is close. She summons her sword into her hand as they break into a large clearing that’s… empty. The destruction seems to have stopped here but the Origin Matter is nowhere to be seen.

“Huh… Where could it have gon-” Cirice starts to ask but her words are cut off by a scream as her mind is filled with a loud cacophony of voices and sounds¹.

---

1 Origin Matter used Telepathy to fill Cirice's head with noise and pain

He couldn’t hide his relief when Cirice suggested a much more favorable name for the origin matter. “Ziev’s eyes sounds much better… if these things are truly his agents, then they’re watching the material plane for him.” Even after the battle, Cyran was under no illusions that they’d actually managed to kill Ziev. The god was far more powerful than a handful of adventurers and a mad mage, no matter how assured the others might have thought that his silence indicated he had fallen, same as his brethren.

Cyran thought he was just biding time for something.

But what exactly that was, he wasn’t sure.

Dead gods, earthquakes, the calamity… all of it was too much for Cyran. He was just a man, the royal fuck-up of a couple of merchants who accidentally stumbled into a little bit of power. World-ending matters of immortals was far beyond his scope of comprehension, much less anything he would ever want to be a part of. And yet, now that he’d been dragged into this, he had a feeling that there would be no escaping it. Especially not now that he knew Cirice was involved in this whole mess as well.

His memories of that event were fuzzy, but he could remember seeing her and feeling… sad, for some reason.

Grief for something he hadn’t yet lost.

But as long as Cirice and Iryla and the others were tangled in this complicated web that Ziev had woven, Cyran could not afford to stand back and watch everything fall apart. And if he couldn’t kill Ziev… he would settle for getting his hands on the Origin Matter.

If they could find it at all, of course.

The two had come upon the tail of the destructive path, but there didn’t seem to be any origin matter in sight. Fingers itching to hold his daggers, Cyran turned to Cirice with a confused expression on his face. “What did Ars say this thing was capable of again- Cirice!”

His question was cut off as his goddaughter suddenly collapsed to the grass, clutching at her head, assaulted by an unseen enemy. Cyran’s daggers were in his hands instantly as he whirled around, scanning the forest for any sign of this damnable creature, when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the world seemed to flicker and distort before a large, swirling orb of pure matter appeared in front of them.^[1]

The thing did not move as Cyran lunged forward, aiming Spell Slicer and Cold Steel right for its core - only to bounce harmlessly off the creature’s side like a force field.

Oh right, Cyran remembered right before the Origin Matter responded by telekinetically plucking him from the ground and slamming him into the nearest tree, Ars said that these things were resistant to magical attacks.

Then his back hit the tree and the breath was knocked out of his lungs as he crumpled to the ground.

Ignore it. Push through the pain. Cyran picked himself up, dropping the daggers to the ground. If they weren’t going to work, then he wouldn’t bother with them. As he glowered at the Origin Matter with the promise of murder in his eyes, a spectral figure manifested behind him.^[2]

“It’s magic you need, then?” She mused, tapping at her chin. “I wonder if you have it in you. Your girl’s life is on the line.”

“Be quiet.” He hissed to the remnant whose body was still unseen, but whose familiar whispers he could hear in the back of his mind. He knew she was right, though - if he was going to combat this thing, he needed more power. More command over the shadows.

“Fine.” He relented, closing his eyes. Resigned. When he opened them again, he fired off a bolt of pure dark magic right at the Origin Matter’s center, one that seemed to carry more power than it usually did.^[3]

“Get the hell out of my daughter’s head.”

---

1. Summon: Possession
2. Spirit Guardian
3. Chaos Bolt, enhanced by spirit shroud

“CYRAN!” Cirice screams through her own pain as he’s thrown like a ragdoll into a tree. He gets up and she sees the specter appear behind him, her lips moving but the words too soft and far away for Cirice to hear. Her godfather looses a bolt of pure darkness into the creature and the noise in her head subsides. She takes a deep breath, coughing and pulling herself to her feet.

The shadows around Cirice almost seem to quiver as she rises once more. The runes under her gloves flare to angry light as tendrils of shadow erupt from the ground at the feet of the orb, entangling it and cutting into its almost gelatinous form¹. The orb starts to ripple as if about to fade away to nothingness and escape its confinement but Cirice points her sword at it and barks an angry command and the creature seems to almost sag in the air, undulations slowing as it tires².

“Cyran are you okay?” Cirice calls out to him. “I weakened it, I think?”

The darkness at Cirice’s feet seems to deepen, curling up her boots and reaching up her legs as if trying to gain purchase³. Its not a secret she was ready to share with him, but as she runs over to make sure he’s alright the whites of her eyes are pitch black. Her movements are also much faster than before, almost blinding speed bringing her to his side.

Familiar soft lavender light washes over Cyran in a cooling wave as she touches his arm, but theres something else there, something colder and more sinister¹. A bite to the healing that doesn’t harm but feels… Wrong somehow.

"Are you alright? You aren't hurt? No broken bones? Here, take these, they're magic!"

She presses a small pouch of chocolates into his hand⁵.

---

1 Stinging Nettles
2 Desperation
3 Abyssal Infusion
4 Major Healing
5 Hearths day chocolates - all 3

He thought he heard Cirice’s voice. Difficult to tell with Rowan’s voice in his head, reminding him that his efforts weren’t good enough. She didn’t need to tell him that - of course they weren’t. This was no ordinary creature… this was a piece of a god, and who was he to challenge Ziev’s might?

But Cirice was in danger. He would damn well try.

Spikes of darkness jutted from the ground, disrupting its semi-solid visage as Cirice jumped into action. Whatever Cyran had done, it gave her enough strength to sap its strength with a spell cast from Crestfallen.

He winced as he straightened, feeling the strain and tug of the wounds on his back ached. Normally, he would be able to shrug off the pain - should be able to shrug it off - but his back, littered in injuries and scars that had not-quite healed right, was a sore spot. Before he could throw himself back into the fray, Cirice was by his side in the blink of an eye - fast, too fast.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, no broken bones, stay back…” He tried to assure her, when he caught sight of the inky-black pools where her eyes should have been as she laid a gloved hand on his arm. Cyran’s brows furrowed, alarmed. “Oh - your eyes…”

Had the orb done this to her? Infected her with something as it messed with her head? She didn’t look injured, or even seem like she’d noticed the change… as Cirice gave him the enchanted chocolates, Cyran brought a hand up and pressed it to her cheek, for a moment. Worried.

And the world seemed to wobble around them as the Origin Matter ripped trees from the earth, launching them at the duo.

“Look out!” Cyran gripped Cirice and whirled her around, shielding her from harm with his own body - before the flying tree could impact with his back once more, Rowan held out a hand, catching it and shattering it with her hand, a coy smirk on her lips.^[1] Cyran whirled around to face Ziev’s agent, reaching his wit’s end.

Sorry, Cirice. I know I promised I would help you capture this thing, but…

I’m not letting this thing leave the Lantern Light Woods alive.

Cyran grit his teeth, calling the darkness to his command. And the shadows responded, stirring, growing deeper as they reached out to him. His own shadow began to elongate, separating him as it began to take life.^[2] The bat-like creature let out a screech, the emissary of the Shade opening its maw to let out a burst of dark magic straight at the Origin Matter.^[3]

It served as a good enough distraction for the Origin Matter, who was preoccupied with the bigger threat, giving Cyran a second to fix Cirice with a stern look, undercut by the desperation on his face. “Are you okay? It didn’t do any lasting damage to you, did it?” Other than her eyes, she looked fine…

Cyran looked down at the bag of chocolates that Cirice had handed him. They had to use everything at their disposal at this point. He wasn’t sure what they would do, but Cirice had given them to him, so he assumed that it would be able to do something. With that in mind, he plucked one from the bag and popped it in his mouth.^[4]

The air grew colder around them as the clouds began to gather, a maelstrom of hail and bitter-cold winds blowing around them.

---

1. Spirit Guardian Hit Prevention (1/2)
2. Summon: Dark Elemental (enhanced by Spirit Shroud)
3. Chaos bolt (Dark Elemental)
4. Blizzard Chocolate

“I’m fine!” Cirice says, clasping his hand with hers before he sends her wheeling around wildly. The snake bracelet he’d given her frees itself from her wrist, floating into the air with silent fury, ready to defend¹. She gives Rowan’s ghost a look somewhere between gratitude and concern, she was at least protecting Cyran, they can speak about this later.

As the shadow rises and preoccupies the origin matter, Cyran turns to her to check on her even though she’s fine. Unhurt. He’d thrown himself into protecting her again. “No, no I’m fine, good idea, if its occupied its easier to deal with!”

She moves, faster than she should even against the growing rime on the ground and unfurls the whip of her sword. She couldn’t let Cyran do all the protecting. She wants to show him how strong she’s become. How strong he’s helped her become.

She uses the increased speed to get behind the orb nd using the attack he taught her, stabbing at the ball with the razor-sharp end of Crestfallen. But instead of three quick jabs she only manages two before the matter takes hold of her sword². In that moment she grits her teeth and lets the sword go before it can slurp her up like Blue Raspberry slurps bodies. Using her momentum she puts distance between herself and the target. Before Crestfallen disappears into the creature though the gem on its hilt flares to life as Cirice casts a spell before the sword is completely gone³.

Suddenly she stops, gasping and clutching her head for a moment once more.

“Cyran!” She shouts, “I’ve got an idea, but you aren’t going to like it! Buy me a little time!”

She rips off her gloves and shadowy claws begin forming around her fingertips, long and terrible⁴. The shadows dance against her lavender skin but they still, settling against her, awaiting.

---

1 Dancing Chain: Daula
2 Cyran's Haunting Blade
3 Reveal Truth
4 Vampiric Touch - Suspended Spell

Cirice quickly brushed off his concern, jumping back into the fray with that same inhuman speed… only to lose her sword when she attempted to emulate the technique Cyran had taught her in Gerhart’s house, months ago. Simpler times. Her haunting steel technique was perfectly practiced, one-two-three in quick succession before the orb absorbed the sword. Was that what would happen the moment they touched it? Cyran couldn’t help himself. Cirice was doubtlessly capable, had forced herself to become strong with her blade and her magic, but no matter how powerful she was - no matter how endlessly proud Cyran was of her progress - there was always going to be a part of him that worried about her when she threw herself into danger. Cirice owned a piece of his heart, and he’d throw himself into the pyre a thousand times over if it meant she would be safe.

It was a ridiculous, crazy notion. Cirice was obviously powerful enough to protect herself.

But then again, that was the crux of love, wasn’t it?

Cyran wasn’t going to let Cirice do the brunt of the damage. The magical ice bore into the orb, slowing down its movements - telekinetic lashings grew steadily slower, and it was easy enough for Cyran to duck over debris flying over him. In the heels of his boots, the hidden mechanism triggered, and he glided silently over the snow and ice rapidly forming over the frostbitten grass, matching Cirice for speed.^[1] She’d cast some kind of spell - he could feel the tug of dark mana in the back of his mind.^[2] She was digging for more information from the recesses of its mind? Did it even had a mind?

Whatever Cirice was digging for, she clearly still had the mage’s guild’s goals in mind. Cyran pursed his lips as she called out to him, asking him to distract the thing. If even she wasn’t trying to sugar-coat things, then Cyran definitely wasn’t going to like it.

And he didn’t.

“What are you-“ Cyran hissed as she pulled off her gloves, dark claws creeping up her arms, almost like she was about to reach out and… touch it. What the hell was she planning? Cyran blinked, the shadows tugging at him and pulling him to the other side of the orb until they were flanking one another.^[3] Wind whipped around him, the Origin Matter pulsating with pure power as it attempted to worm its way into the back of Cyran’s skull. An echoing voice that pierced through him -

CEASE.

- Pain. Even worse than getting thrown into a tree, if only because there was no preventing this. Cyran gasped, clutching at his head.

“Shake it off, Cyran.” If the cacophony of whispers in his mind was painful, Rowan’s harsh voice cutting through the whispers was even worse. It was not the voice of an encouraging woman, but rather, someone protecting her asset. “How did you finish the last fight with Ziev?”

…

“It ended with him in chains.” Cyran whispered.

He knew how to capture this thing.

Cyran raised a hand in the air, wresting the shadows under his control once more. “To me!” He snapped, calling back the elemental. It would have to serve as the distraction once more. And from the darkness, his Shade took form, the silent mirror image taking off as both the clone and the elemental held the Origin Matter’s attention.^[4,5] Enough to distract it from whatever Cirice was planning… and for Cyran to prepare his spell.

He raised his hand, tracing intricate runes in the air in front of him from the darkness. A spell that had once defied the will of the very gods, cast by a different man. His own power would have to be enough to combat Ziev’s minions.

It had to.^[6]

---

1. Ice Skates
2. Expanded Mind (Astral Soul I)
3. Blink
4. Dark Elemental - Chaos Bolt
5. Shadow Clone
6. Preparing Scern's Godkiller Spell

Those movements, those runes… She knows them, she knows what he’s planning and she prays that it will be enough to keep their prey still and steady.

It might hurt a lot though.

She takes a deep breath, trusting the knowledge she just gained and Cyran. “Alright! Don’t freak out, let your spell hold it and I promise it will be okay! I have a plan!”

She gives Cyran a fierce smile and uses the last of her devilish speed to run towards the orb. With a leap and a battle cry she launches herself into the air above the Origin Matter and plunges into its gooey gelatinous form with all the force and momentum she could muster. Embedding herself deep into the creature’s body like a living weapon, everything around her goes dark as she is whelmed.

The inside of the creature is soft and squishy, making her movements feel almost like swimming in syrup. Her thoughts slow, her vision fading as the darkness encroaches and she says a quiet prayer mentally that this will work before giving into unconsciousness.

How long will she be in the orb? Will this even work? All thoughts and doubts she hadn’t allowed herself to entertain before making this reckless plan and following through on it.

Outside the Orb, Ars Goetia the book golem stands still, his pages being thrown about in the wind of the blizzard. His mistress encased in the form of the origin matter, all he is able to do is black page of scribbled panic scrawling across the moving pages of his face.

Cyran should have been able to stop her.

He should have been able to stop preparing his spell to dash and intercept Cirice before she could do what he thought she was going to do. But it was too late for him to interrupt preparations now that they’d begun, and Cirice, with her enhanced speed, was a blur before she launched herself straight into the Origin Matter.

“Cirice! No!” Cyran screamed, barely able to make out the young woman in the middle of the creature’s mass. Above him, the elemental dove, ready to attack the orb once more-

"Stop! You might hurt her!” His voice cracked, fear making his movements unstable. He couldn’t control the godkiller spell, the elemental, and the shade at the same time. It was all too much. The shade and the elemental melted away, Cyran’s mind to frazzled to keep everything up at once. Continue casting the spell? How the hell was he supposed to do that when Cirice was trapped inside of that thing? He’d likened Origin Matter to a black hole, but in that moment, Cyran wanted nothing more to prove himself wrong. For a black hole would tear Cirice asunder, rip her apart until she was reduced to nothingness.

Let your spell hold, she said, as if everything was going to be fine!

Cyran’s vision blurred as he continued tracing the necessary runes. It was becoming difficult to see, difficult to breathe. “Cirice, you’re grounded, do you hear me? The second you get out of that thing, you’re grounded for at least a century! No, two!”

But Cirice did not respond.

He poured every ounce of himself into this spell, digging into his magical reserves - so much so that his body began to hurt, the corners of his vision going dark, until he was no longer merely pouring magic into this spell, but his own life. It didn’t matter what he sacrificed. All he had to do was get her out. Get her out of there.

Ashen chains burst from the ground, wrapping around the semi-corporeal creature. For a tense moment, Cyran thought his spell might not connect, and this was all for naught - until the last burning embers of the chains connected, magical fire branding the orb to hold it still.

And all at once the telekinesis came to a halt, leaving Cyran alone in the middle of the raging blizzard.

Feeling like he’d been scooped hollow.

What in the world was Cirice’s plan? Did she even have one? Cyran wasn’t sure he could trust her words when he was too beside himself with worry.

Because if he couldn’t get her out of there, Cirice might die, and it was going to be all his fault.

---

Scern's Godkiller Spell (1/2)

Within the Origin Matter Cirice cannot hear Cyran’s heartbroken cries. She couldn’t hear or feel anything. She was totally engulfed in the creature and held in a sort of stasis. Floating in an abyss, neither warm nor cold, merely existing in the moment, a long, single moment.

“You’ve grown quite strong.” A soft, melodic voice purrs from the darkness of Cirice’s mind. “Each day you grow and prove yourself more and more worthy. I am impressed, my little Maiden. Your thirst for knowledge and power is great, keep feeding it as you are now and I will continue to reward you.”

As the words fade back into the abyss of her mind, the once stilled shadows around Cirice’s hands begin to stir. The runes on her arms flare to violet light and the origin matter shudders violently around her. Perhaps if it were not restrained by Cyran’s chains it would have tried to flee, but it was stuck fast from without and begins swirling within.

Perhaps the creature had been likened to a Black Hole before, but in this moment it found itself being consumed as the spell that Cirice had cast before awakens from its slumber. From outside it seems the orb begins to pitch and wiggle in its bindings.

And then it begins to shrink.

Slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, the mass lessens. Then more. And yet more. Sucked into the center of itself as if draining down a pipe the orb shrinks, bringing the chains that hold it in with it. Soon the orb becomes a more humanoid shape of shadow and stars and within moments Cirice is again visible and Cyran can see the truth of what is happening. The runes along her arms and the shadows on her hands are absorbing the creature into themselves.

For a moment it seems like the the chains of the godkiller spell are holding Cirice as the orb is absorbed into her being, but the chains too seem to unravel and be sucked into the runes. She opens her eyes, the glowing lavender of her irises set against the void of her sclera that is now perforated by tiny pinpricks of starlight. She floats there, in the space where the orb had once been, eyes unseeing and smile victorious.

Before crumpling into and exhausted pile on the ground.

“What am I going to do…?”

With the Origin Matter contained by Cyran’s chains, he had free reign to get close and figure out… what the hell he was supposed to do. He could almost see the reflection of his own face in its dark, rippling surface, sprinkled with flecks of light that looked like stars. Everything in him was screaming that he needed to reach his hand in through the nothingness and pull Cirice out - but if he touched it, would he be sucked in the same way? If he did that he’d be no help to Cirice. This was ridiculous, the more time he spent agonizing over this, failing to think of what to do, the longer Cirice was trapped in there? What if she was suffocating? What if she was already dead?

He’d lost one child due to his own shortcomings. Surely, the ghosts of gods would not deign to rip another from his hands.

Bolt after bolt of dark magic he fired at the thing’s surface, each one hitting the orb but not doing much more than rupturing its surface for a second - his minor spells couldn’t do enough damage, and he was too scared to use more powerful magic. So he was stuck pouring every ounce of himself into the spell, until he could no longer pull from his magical reserves and then some.

“Please…”

Gods, he felt pathetic. Begging to an unseen entity that could not even hear his begging. And yet, it was all Cyran could do.

“Please, anyone but her.”

As if in response, the surface of the orb warbled and shook in its bindings, until it slowly began to reduce in size. Cyran took a step back, another spike of panic lancing him in the chest? What was happening now? Was it digesting her? He could have cried until the Origin Matter began to take on a more humanoid form.

A familiar form.

“Shit!” Cyran swore, frantically canceling his spell - he couldn’t hurt her with Scern’s chains! The Origin Matter was already too far gone to escape as the chains dissolved away into dust and shade, leaving behind nothing but darkness and Cirice’s softly-pulsating runes… until it disappeared entirely, leaving behind the young woman - eyes vacant, and a grin on her features.

Behind Cyran, Rowan smirked.

Cyran dove forward to catch her before she could hit the ground, desperate to cradle to her to his chest. For a moment, he was afraid to touch her out of fear she wouldn’t be real - but she was solid, cold from the blizzard still raging around them, but alive, her chest still rising and falling softly.

She was alive, but that was close. Too close.

Cyran maneuvered the unconscious young woman until her head rested gently against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her torso. She was a bit heavier than he could carry, but that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let go until his arms fell off.

There was the sound of rustling paper behind him. Ars Goetia. Cyran exhaled, breathing out a puff of cold air, before turning around to face Cirice’s book golem, who had been left behind to watch the chaos unfurl.

“Ars.” Cyran’s voice was a hoarse whisper by now, heart still hammering in his chest. “It’s… it’s over. Cirice took care of it.” Somehow. He hadn’t gotten a good enough look to see whatever spell Cirice had cast to cause it to disappear in such a way, but she’d managed. “We should head back to the wagon.”

He trudged through the snow, Ars Goetia lumbering behind him while he tried to calm himself. Once he arrived on the wagon, he wasted no time searching for pillows for Cirice and tucking her under the warmth of her kotatsu, making sure that her head was supported.

“Please, just be sleeping because you’re tired…”

Tea. He needed to make her something… tea would be good. Admittedly, brewing leaves would not do her much good, but Cyran was still beside himself, and needed something, anything, to do with his hands. He rifled through the wagon, eyes gliding over the book titles in search of tea leaves and a kettle. An inordinate number of titles were smut books from his own collection. Where did she get those-?

Nope. Not important right now, Cyran. His mind was so frazzled his mind was all over the place…

He couldn’t find tea, but a thought occurred to him. In all of his worrying, he’d probably given Del a scare through their link. Neither one had properly had the time or forethought to test the limits of their bond, but he imagined that being hit with a sudden onslaught of grief wasn’t pleasant. He turned his attention towards searching for pen and paper, scribbling out a brief message.

On a mission with Cirice. Something happened, but we’re fine now… I think. Cirice still unconscious but alive. I’m bringing her to a healer if she doesn’t wake up.

Sorry for worrying you.

-Cyran

“Yeux, find Oriole.” Cyran said, strapping the letter to the little bat’s leg with twine. “He’ll know where to take this.” The bat would be able to find his apprentice just outside the edges of the forest, who would be able to get this to Del. At the very least, Cyran could attempt to ease someone’s worries.

That task completed, Yeux taking off into the air, all that was left for Cyran was to wait for Cirice to wake up.

Warm. Cozy. The familiar scent of her wagon and the familiar warmth of her kotatsu… Cirice groans softly, her head pounding with a headache.

“Mmm…”

Her eyelids feel so heavy, her whole body feeling both heavy and light, energized and completely drained, terrible and wonderful all at once. Her being was duality for the moment and she struggled to find a middle ground and open her eyes. She sees her godfather huddled over the table writing a note with frantic, nervous energy and tying it to his bat’s leg. Why would he be writing a note? What happened? She tries to sit up slowly.

“Cyran…?” She asks, her voice soft and slightly raspy, “Are you okay?”

Her eyes are back to normal, tired but smiling at him with worry for his wellbeing. She looks fine, just tired and drained. The runes on her arms are still visible and seem slightly darker and more pronounced than before. Otherwise she is completely unchanged and unharmed.

“What happened? It worked? I saw… Well I learned all I could from the creature with a spell and I realized only powerful magic would work and… Well I guess it did! We didn’t really capture it I suppose, but I can write what I learned for the guild. I think that will be enough. I’m sorry if I worried you…”

She can see the look on his face, the worry and the despair that had etched itself across his features and she reaches out and hugs him tight.

“I’m okay, everything is okay. I promise. I just feel tired and uh-uh-achoo!”

She sneezes and the entire wagon shakes, everything that isn’t tied down going flying¹. She blinks in surprise. “Wha…”

---

1 Telekinesis