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He paused.

"Itty? What're YOU doin' here? 'ow the hell did you get here-"

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She shrugs, panting a little. "Light magic... it burns... I..." She took a bit of time to catch her breath. Thankfully for them, time was her specialty. "I... would like to ask you the same, if I am honest..."

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"Sorry to cut the conversation short, but we have better things to be doing than talking to adolescent girls." She glared at "Itty" and flew off. "Hurry up, Kendo!"

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Adrik Volkov

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Adrik was born in a small town which bordered Macedon and Legion. Whispers permeated the air. War was a permanent theme of discussion. If conflict broke out between Macedon and Legion, they would be the first to bear the brunt of it. The first to die.

They were the mutts of Legion and Manecdon and they were the spider silk string which suspended the two nations.

In all honesty, it'd never seemed real. Adults could whisper about it all they want- that didn't make it anymore true. Not when there were blackberries to pick and a "really weird beetle on that wall! come see! hurry, before it flies away!"

War was the furthest thing from his mind, as a child. It'd only gotten further when he'd transferred here. In the midst of an enormous country, where everyone was smiling and the rations were enormous every day, it'd been easy to forget the brewing conflict amongst the nations.

Then it happened, and the entire world fell to chaos in days.

If he had to be honest with himself, his family was probably dead. The little girl who'd liked beetles was probably dead. The blackberry bushes were probably scorched to a crisp.

Did it make him an awful person that that thought hurt the most?

Maybe that wasn't it. Maybe it wasn't the blackberries that hurt. It was what he lost- when the world was peaceful. That was who he mourned every day.

And now, his little light, his own dimly shining soul was about to be snuffed out. Because he was stupid and an overachiever like always. He escaped death, and now he was riding towards it at full speed.

One of the soldiers smiled sympathetically at him, sitting opposite from him on the carriage. "It'll be okay," he whispered. He gave Adrik's knee a gentle squeeze. "We'll make it out. Just do your magic, okay?"

Adrik tried to smile, but he had a feeling that he was already going red. Like he did, just before he cried. So he instead looked out the side window and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his face in them.

The carriage gave a sudden bump, and he hugged himself tighter.

One of the soldiers swore.

The woman hissed under her breath, and gestured a man on a horse nearer to their carriage. "Tell squadrons five through seven to take the left wing," she told him. The man nodded and rode out.

Curiosity made Adrik peek over his arms. Up ahead, he could see red costumes.

His mouth went dry.

Those were people. Soldiers.

And now, he'd be expected to kill them with magic he didn't possess.

Or else... he'd die.

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Setsuna Jun

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It was nearing nightfall, and the soldiers around camp were petering out. Tents were popping up, and with each, it appeared as if a squadron had been spirited away, plucked from the sides of their fellow workers.

Setsuna was one of the hardworking few who remained. Diligently stacking boxes and doing the hard work for his comrades, his efforts would mean the difference between their life and death. He counted the boxes, wrote the number, then moved on to the next stack.

A man was next to him, mumbling under his breath. Setsuna's heart ached at the sheer comradery of it all.

"It sure is hard work, what they have us doing," Setsuna remarked. "But for the Legion, it is nothing!" They pounded their chest, nearly dislodging the boxes.

The man turned to glare at them with bloodshot grey eyes. "I lost my leg on the frontlines," he hissed. "I had to watch my comrades die because I couldn't help them. And the untrained doctors they assigned me-" His hand tightened on his pantleg. "They've refused to let me go back. People are dying out there, and I'm stuck here with greenhorns like you stocking boxes."

Setsuna decided to give the man a wide berth, and left the warehouse, circling the camp and heading to the back of it. The sun was fading- marmalade spread over the sky, dim streaks of red going through the orange, a pot of sugary sweetness. The mountains cradled the dripping sky- so close Setsuna could almost touch them and drag himself into that eternal light.

He reached out a hand, and imagine that he held it up- the entire world clenched in his palms.

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Ayran sighs, it seemed like the little creature wasn't going away anytime soon.

Suddenly in the corner of his eye, he sees 3 figures not too far away from them.

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A silver flash blazed through the sand, only appearing for a moment before diminishing. A skrrt echoed around the dunes before another one. It was like a raptor circling around them. The flash seemed to be following after Iteral.

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"Wait, I think we're on the same side... I guess?" She said, sighing at looking at Kendo. "Look, can you vouch for me that I'm not some malicious legionist or anything? I barely adhere to the flow of time, how should I be a fighter!" Spotting the flash in the corner of her eye, she slows time down enough to try figure out what that thing even is.


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When war first broke out, many reacted negatively to the news of the captured Saint Deity. Many religious people wanted to free her or ran away, both were met with rather violent results. However, some decided to play their own cards right. One of them is Saint Chiara, a follower of the deity. While also being shocked at the capture, she claims to still hear or feel her presence. She would follow the presence wherever. It was her religion.

Right now, she was in a camp of Legion, mending wounds of some poor bloke who gotten himself injured. Walking out of her "tent", Chiara spots someone... pinching the sky? Taking the risk, she approaches. "Excuse me, are you doing alright?"

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Setsuna Jun

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Setsuna practically jumped out of his skin. He twisted his neck around to see- some girl? No, a woman. Adult girl. He quickly realized he was assaulting the air, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Oh- hello," he said awkwardly. "Nice to meet you- Setsuna- I'm doing fine. Just fine." He gave his head a shake. I didn't do anything wrong! Chill! "You're with the medical division, right?"

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Ghost turned to see what Ayran was looking at and say the 3 figures and pulled out their nail, Ghost looked back at Ayran to see what they should do.

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"You could call it that." Chiara smiles, undeterred by the tension that Setsuna might create. She's seen more anxious people in sermons and ceremonies before. "I'm Saint Chiara Lucente, of the... ehm, well I heal people but am more of a travelling priest than anything. Are you okay though, my child? You seem a little troubled." She asks, being shorter but still calling him that.

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Tord stood outside, gazing in awe at the sunset. He was glad to be away from those dummies that he used to consider his friends, especially that stupid old Tom. He looked around, taking a deep breath as he examined the sky one last time, before noticing somebody off in the distance. They appeared to be enjoying themselves as well.
Tord began to take slow steps towards the person, unsure of what he was doing. He hasn't put very much thought into this, but he was eager to meet the others. There seemed to now be more than one of them, standing next to each other.
He approached them, sticking out his right arm in front of him. "The name's Tord," he began, "And you are?"

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Setsuna Jun

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"I'm doing fine, really," he fibbed. "Just a little nervous about training tomorrow, y'know?" Someone approached to the side. Setsuna glanced at them. Oh. More people. He half-heartedly wondered if taking a backflip off the cliff might remedy the situation to something liveable.

Probably not. That'd entail... death.

"I'm Setsuna. Setsuna Jun." He bit his tongue, and before he could stop himself asked, "Who're you-? I mean- er-" He thought quickly. "What's your last name? You didn't... share it."

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A staff weapon was standing upright in the sand, the dark ribbons on its end moving slowly in the wind. The owner was nowhere in sight. Though, due to the slowing of time, there was another thing glinting behind a sand dune.

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Ayran brought a finger to his lips, and signaled him to be quiet. He crouched down, and observed the others quietly, like a predator slowly hunting for it's prey.

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"Kendo, come on, vouch for me..." Iteral muttered, speaking very fast due to the difference of time. She backs off a bit from the staff and looks at the other glint. Being ready for an attack, she grits her teeth. In normal time, she spoke to Kendo and that angel thing. "... you got room for a blind passenger?"

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"Training will be fine, you will succeed my child." Chiara bows down cordially at the newcomer. "Hello, friend. What brings you here?" She asked, lowering her veil a bit to obscure her face a bit. It was still mostly visible, except from the direct front.

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Ghost nods and looks at what they have of use and put on a couple charms to help in case of a fight and then watches the group with Ayran.

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Setsuna Jun

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Will succeed? Yeah right, but- He hesitated. I guess it's nice to see a friendly face. Least she doesn't seem like the yelling type...

Something about the way she hid her face was weird, but what would Setsuna know? Maybe she was a princess, here to liberate him from his chains. Maybe she had facial scars she thought made her look evil and she thus hid. Maybe she was a well-known villain from across the lands.

In any case, it didn't really matter, so he should just stop thinking about it.

"Hey..." He decided against nudging her. "Can I ask you a few questions when you're done?"

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"I'm looking for allies but that does not include a child." She summoned her staff, a pure white rod with a lantern and small wings for detail at the top. "Run along, now. The desert isn't a safe place." Her two pairs of wings fluttered almost threateningly.

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There was no other source of action for a while, before half a head popped up from the top of the sand dune. The person blinked at Iteral, waving slowly as if to show that they meant no harm. Their hair reflected the sun's rays in a peculiar type of way.

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"Aye, angel-person, this kid's alright. They're like 500 years old or sumthin. Lettem stay. They can control time."

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