rogue_4

The halberd finally pierces the pope's chest.

'It seems you have fallen, Buldrokkas'tee.'

'It seems I have killed your enlightenment. Kazdel has not completely fallen.'

Buldrokkas'tee grips his halberd tightly, as though it is not the pope's frail frame being impaled upon the holy see of Kazdel, but he himself.

Grrovae'zeeal, I have...

Buldrokkas'tee casts his gaze towards the other end of the halberd. Tiny crystals gush out from the wound on the pope's chest, expanding like a veil that covers the marble halls.

'No...'

'What do you mean... did I do something wrong?' Nymph feels the crushing weight of fate upon her shoulders.

'No, these encounters are not the result of any errors you have made. They have occurred because of a deviation in the directive. Salvation has arrived early,' says Kal'tsit.

'No... why?!' The roar echoes through the halls.

'Buldrokkas'tee, the last holy gun-knight.' A gentle voice speaks from behind the veil of Originium covering the see.

'I have heard your roar across millions of directives.'

Buldrokkas'tee looks for the source of the voice, only to find a warm hand pressed gently against his forehead.

He looks up to see an unfamiliar figure wearing a black veil, a black crown floating atop her head.

He hears his own voice, its raspy roar echoing through the halls—

I see cities, devastated.

I see Originium, blanketing the land.

I see you, black crown on your head, melting millions of lives, into nothing but memories.

I see the, King of Sarkaz, enslaving all peoples, everywhere.

'...No... No!'

'You have killed enlightenment, Buldrokkas'tee. You have made an irreparable mistake.

'But you need not feel remorse, nor pain.

'For I am here, and I forgive all.'

Buldrokkas'tee tries to roar one last time, but the rage is frozen in his throat. He stretches his claws towards the black-crowned figure, but they, too, freeze in mid-air.

Salvation has come.

Out of the deep Ashoka Woods, and into a wasteland no ship can currently reach.

Thanks to the oasis meticulously tended to by the Anasa, the group manages to push on through crystal tides and thunderstruck plains.

'We are already where the thunder strikes the loudest, so we need only walk until we can hear it no more.'

The enlightened occasionally stops to calm Nymph down, as she often gets startled by the thunder and needs some time to get used to the environment. She is astonished to find plenty of other travelers on the path to the oasis—long-horned Anasa as well as other races, all whom seem to pay the local thunderstorm no mind.

'Is it a Catastrophe causing all these lightning strikes? What if it hits the oasis? Why is no one worried about that?' She asks.

The enlightened points to a roadside mound and she notices, after some scrutinizing, several holes in its side. There seem to be windows, but no door.

'What is that?'

'Bunkers once for refuge, by those who couldn't outrun the Catastrophes.'

'But I don't see any doors.'

'Why would a window not serve as such?'

'Wouldn't they get smashed by Catastrophes?'

'You found your way here to Katsidiya's outer reaches by turning thought to word, so why does your 'common sense' still doubt these windows?'

'Ugh...'

'You said these were 'once' used. What about now?' Mudrock calmly takes over the role of asking questions.

The thunder does not wait for the enlightened to reply before coming to a sudden stop, and silence envelops the oasis instantly.

Just as Nymph waits, unsure how to react, a bell rings from afar.

At least, Nymph immediately thinks it's a bell, apparently familiar with the simple and dull metal-borne sound.

Which she thinks is odd, since there are no bells in Kazdel. She should have found it unfamiliar.

Then, she finds herself back at the Furnace's ceremony, exchanging equally surprised looks with her companions. The revenants seem to be talking privately with each other from their tiny pockets of muddled yet intense conversations, their whispers echoing in her ears.

She sees Tin Man turning his head towards her, and hears Mudrock's clothes rustling as she lifts her arm.

She feels an urge to blink, her eyelids right about to fall shut.

A half-second of darkness, and she finds herself back before the enlightened.

There are no traces of her companions.

'From the peak of Mount Anius to the heart of Lake Hyparion sit numerous monasteries of 'those without roots'. They work when their bells ring and rest otherwise. These bells seem to originate from the source of all things, and their rings resonate through eternity, beckoning all those seeking westward to turn back and ordering those sweeping eastward to lay down their arms. And thus, Victoria and Kazdel have enjoyed a long period of peace.'

The enlightened's narration does not seem to have been interrupted, but Nymph realizes the speaker had been waiting for her to 'return' before continuing the tale.

'Now, the Kazdel of old has become the Katsidiya of today, and it has struck a promise through the sound of the bells with Lokadhatu—the land—where it resides. Likewise, we have drawn a line in the sand defining how we should act with the Victorians, just like we have with Yan.'

Nymph feels the speaker's white eyes fixated on her.

'Even now the Anasa's great bell has not sent you back. You once claimed yourself to be the Djall Nymph. Do you still remain the same?'

'Huh? Uh, yes, that's me.'

Nymph senses that the enlightened's expression shifts just slightly, but she is unable to make out how exactly, and unwilling to use her abilities to understand it.

'Dharmas exist without adapting to Nidanas, and so will never be lost within illusions. Djall Nymph, it seems regardless of the chain of causation, you can enter Nagara Katsidiya. Follow me. Your story has yet to end, and I have more stories to tell as well.'

The Anasa share linguistic similarities with the Sarkaz, but there are plenty of differences. For example, they call this great land 'Lokadhatu', and cities 'Nagara'. 'Nagara Katsidiya', in the Anasa language, means 'City of Kazdel'. The Anasa have many cities, with Katsidiya the largest and most important. It is stationed in the middle of Victoria, Ursus, and Yan, on the barrens ravaged year round by Catastrophes, and relies on an artificial oasis to connect with the outside world. These chains of oases have actually become the safest and most reliable paths connecting the three nations, and are called the 'Anasa Road'. With the countries' cooperative efforts, the Anasa Road is developed and maintained to the standards of nomadic platforms, with the amount of goods and people flowing in and out increasing day by day. Katsidiya, being the core and starting point of this meeting hub, has seen both its permanent and transient population swell and become one of the largest metropolises in eastern Terra.

This 'orderly and tranquil land' is, in reality, a bustling city.

Cloud-covered ramps have replaced the ancient elevators, and those who step onto these platforms enchanted by the wise silk-wielding 'Vidyadharas' will find themselves on the other side before they know it, not the slightest bit winded. The huge city walls planted by the Children of Soil and Stone in days past still remain, but are now covered with lush plants, their original colors nearly indistinguishable. Today, the walls' builders are mostly busy with maintaining the newly constructed aerial plates. 'Fire Dharmapalas' born with huge horns patrol every road in the city, but their main job is no longer maintaining public order—they ensure fire safety in the city, answer inquiries from tourists, and also put on fierce faces as they pose for photos together with children.

Groups of Felines and Liberis enter and exit cars parked outside the city and its connected platforms; a melting pot of races with various ears and horns live and work together inside the city's buildings and parks. In Viharas situated on higher ground, clerics with halos and monks with black rings behind their heads debate on the finer distinctions between Lateran law and Anasa doctrine. Regular Anasa, together with people of all races, make up the diverse population of the city.

Overlooking everything is Katsidiya's bell tower, standing on the city's highest plate and its only forbidden area. Most are only aware of its existence and have heard the bell, but never actually seen it in person.

'Djall Nymph, do you find the city's bell tower familiar?'

'No, not at all... but... it looks just like...'

'Like?'

'Like Kazdel's Soul Furnace.'

'To my knowledge, the Kazdel of the past never built anything with such a name. The Anasa built the bell tower you see before you, and it has always been a bell tower.'

Just as always, the enlightened walks forward while Nymph follows behind with small, quick steps.

'Do you recognize these statues?'

In front of the bell tower—that to Nymph, looks identical to the Soul Furnace—is an empty square paved with only brick and stone, and the usual greenery one can see everywhere else in the city is nowhere to be found. Four towering white statues stand within, their expressions peacefully directed towards the bare ground.

'They look familiar, but it's just not coming to mind...'

'Mhm. To us, they are the All-Four Kings of old, from before the Anasa became enlightened.'

'All-Four?'

'In other words, these sculptures depict the four Kings of Sarkaz. The ancient 'Farchaser', and his three successors.'

'—Oh, oh! Right, they get mentioned in a lot of stories. It should be Gul'dul, the 'Citymaker', Balor'sača the 'Sunwielder', and...

Nymph's eyes go wide. She had heard the enlightened's name back when she first entered this illusory plane, but only now remembers its significance.

'Qui'lon, the Wrathful Cerulean Flame. Me.'

The enlightened stops in his tracks and looks at the statues, speaking with the same calm tone as when he had first introduced himself by the riverbank with the weeping willows.

A black crown appears atop his head. Nymph knows what it means.

'This crown has nothing to do with the 'story' I wish to tell, but I know you're curious about it. Ask away.'

'Um, where I come from, there's a story called 'The Firestarter's Betrayal', which tells of three successors to the King of Sarkaz who used to be friends, but then betrayed and killed each other—'

Nymph tells the enlightened the stories of the Qui'lon she knows.

'If the characters in your story were in fact modeled on our three, then indeed such an incident occurred in this very realm.'

The enlightened listens to the entirety of Nymph's tale before pointing to his crown, as if thinking about something.

'The other two involved are in here too. I can confirm in their stead that most of your tale stands true.'

He pauses, and then laughs heartily:

'Ah, Balor'sača wants to clarify that he later regretted his impulsiveness, and hopes his foreign compatriots do not regard him as an unrepentant, jealous, and irascible Diαblo—but let us be honest, he has always been all of that, and there is no need for you to mend his reputation—'

The enlightened tilts his head, as if suddenly interrupted.

'—Yes, he's right, because that's exactly how it happened, so you should let others know that the Diαblo acknowledges his error, but does not regret his actions, haha.'

The enlightened's smile drops just slightly and he continues with a gentle tone:

'All in the past. All bygones the moment each of us wore this crown.

'We were later freed from it, but I was the last of us standing, so due to karma, it remains on my head.

'However, it allows me to realize my ideals, to carry out my duty. It granted me the lifespan to live even now—I think I would have long departed this realm had it not guided me aboard that ship back then.

But to the Anasa today, this crown of black tells only 'who I am', and has long since lost its symbolic meaning.

'To me, there could be nothing better. But the origin of the rootless ones is almost certainly not why you remain.'

The enlightened looks at Nymph again, but does not respond to her inquiring gaze. He turns towards the bell tower, or rather the furnace.

'Follow me inside. My story awaits you within.'

He then walks past the four statues.

The interior of the bell tower appears exactly the same as the Soul Furnace in Nymph's memories.

Mottled metal walls, exposed energy pipes, damaged exhausts in disrepair. Every path and every corner shares the same look. Nymph even feels as if she can faintly hear the revenants' chatter.

The enlightened asks: