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Quin slowly spun on Elinor’s orders, allowing her to take in the full scope of the colossal floating fortress of Sha’Guala.

Greenery spread across the bark-covered mountainous arches framing the enormous castle at the island’s center.  The immaculate structures she could see were breathtaking and mysterious, with a radiant pulse in the air that caused her skin to prickle.

The opening courtyard they’d been transported to was made in a similar manner to the Quen’Talrat fortress, built to accommodate creatures much larger than humans, yet various sections of the area appeared to be fashioned for all sizes of individuals.

Behind them were what appeared to be the castle front gates, but she couldn’t be sure because of the height; they stood as tall as the Quen’Talrat walls—enclaves were cut into the barrier, housing gaseous orbs of various colors transferring their energy through the etchings across its surface.

The arch to the right of the towering keep had a rising walkway that required you to enter the lower levels, and Elinor could see three alien stone figures carved into the ancient structure.

Flowing emerald rivers cascaded down the left arch with what seemed a basin on top; the green hues of the foliage and moss covered most of its surface, but they appeared to overlay an intricate etched structure.

“It’s ... Quite the spectacle,” Elinor whispered, turning her gaze back to the demonic creature’s skull-like face; his expression held a permanent sinister muse as the red liquid swirled around his head.

His fond tone was crisp as the demonic monster shifted his gaze around the prodigious courtyard.  “It has been home for ages … However, it would be best to move with haste, Empress Elinor; this way.”

Quin followed beside him with Sari’aél and Tiffany beside her, taking in the space as they matched Tiffany’s much shorter pace; the woman was starry-eyed, behaving more like a tourist than in enemy territory.

Aileen put her maid game-face on, hoping not to embarrass Elinor or her mentor; the girl was doing her best to be the picture of serenity that the Seraph next to them radiated—although it was difficult for the excited twelve-year-old girl.

Sari’aél’s amiable golden irises were held on Sar'ollaz as she hovered to Elinor’s left; from Elinor’s connection to the Seraph, she knew the angel was examining everything around her with interest, comparing her ‘released’ senses to her ‘chained’ state.

Tiffany twisted in circles as they moved, trying to take everything in.  Her orange eyes sparkled with excitement.  “This is … is incredible … What keeps you in the air … technology, magic?”

Sar'ollaz chuckled, taking long, slow steps to match her movements.  “I am afraid we have many things to discuss before going into the workings of this island … Tiffany, I presume, by the Empress’s earlier statement.”

“That is my name,” she giggled, wet lips pulling it a little as her gaze settled on the giant spinning crystals behind them.  “I can … There’s this hum in the air that is making my skin prickle and bones quake; it’s positively thrilling!”

“Believe me,” he mused, blood shifting across his face, “I feel the same excitement … To meet one of the mythical figures told by ageless travelers is … daunting would be a proper word.”

Sari’aél’s smile lifted a bit.  “You are speaking about me?”

“I am, Sari’aél.”  He pulled around his long tail to draw their attention to it; the white embers that Elinor first saw along its cracking surface were fading.  “I cannot recall the last time something broke past my armor … much less require this much effort to suppress.”

A soft laugh shook the Seraph’s chest.  “I am astonished that such a feeble creature was able to survive my attack—the thrill in my breast is beyond words.”

“Hmm…”  Sar'ollaz’s tail returned to weave behind him.  “Indeed.  Although another topic intrigues me … that Empress Elinor, Iris, Tiffany, and a Daughter of the Sun look so similar to one another—in fact, there are many … What was the word … humans?  I have come across several dozen universes with variations of spiritual essences.”

Elinor hummed; her vision fell to the glass-like silver bridge they were drawing nearer to, showing the frozen substance surrounding the courtyard underneath.  Rainbow colors sparkled within the solid-liquid at random.  “Various spiritual essences … So, not like us.  Have you not met humans like me before?”

Sar'ollaz’s left hand twisted in a strange gesture as they continued on the pathway toward the platform and the stairs beyond it that rose over fifty meters to the exquisite crimson and silver doors of the keep.  “Have I met creatures that are similar in appearance—even akin spiritual tokens?  Most definitely.  However, you each are far from the same—as you are not who you manifest to be, Empress.”

“Manifest … Meaning?”  Elinor asked, questioning gaze lifting to the massive figure.

His tail twisted with his hips, red eyes eye-level with her as Quin held Elinor up.  “You may manifest as this outward human appearance, but it is the jewels in your ears that hold your spirit, a rather clever diversion.”

Elinor’s eyes narrowed.  “How did you know?”

“He-he-he-he … As if I could miss the ominous force they emanate—Oracle is quite perturbed by its unique characteristics.”

“Oracle?”  Tiffany asked.  “I believe you said that name before.  Are they your island’s operator?”

“Excellent deduction!”  he praised.  “However, let us put this discussion on hold until we reach the Conference Room and begin the ritual.”

“Ritual … Sari’aél?”

Elinor’s eyes fixated on a single spot, shock stopping her thoughts momentarily, as her mental query to the Seraph was heard aloud without her speaking.  Quin stepped on the see-through silver platform at that exact moment, and their environment instantly changed; Sari’aél, Tiffany, and Sar'ollaz appeared beside her shortly after.

She looked up, a little disoriented from both unexpected events.

“E-Empress,” Quin whispered.  “I took a step on the silver pathway and … and we were suddenly here?!”

The Witch’s finger was pressed against her temple, turning in circles again with parted lips.  “Was that … We teleported again?”

Sar'ollaz calmly waited for them to gain their barrings.  “Yes.  We are not far from the Conference Room.  As to your mental communication, we are entering the next phase of the ritual, which means nothing is to be hidden.”

Sari’aél nodded.  “All discussion must be in the open for all parties to understand one another; deception is the fracture of peace.”

“Why didn’t we just teleport straight there?”  Quin reflexively asked, two jaws instantly closing after the words came out.

“Hmm…”  Elinor’s lips pulled in at the news.  “I suppose privacy is forfeited then.”

Sar'ollaz guided them further into the empty hallways without showing signs of being bothered while addressing Quin.  “Security protocols do not allow such quick movements within the island.”

Sari’aél’s golden irises tilted to the walls, shifting between scenes, creating a life-like continuous image of various civilizations.  “Will any others be joining us?”

“Indeed.”  Sar'ollaz motioned to the left corridor, “Few are allowed within this section of the island, and those that are a partaker of the Covenant are entitled to take part in this ceremony of Peace and Understanding, as it affects them.”

Elinor couldn’t help being distracted by the walls; the gems shifted colors, displaying continuous scenes of battle that she could have sworn were real had she not walked on this crimson pathway.

Trails of red beams shot across the displays on one end, depicting a global war between several turtle and insect-like creatures.  At the same time, the other side had peace being brokered by two entirely different alien birds—one looked remarkably similar to Baxter’s raven-like appearance, hosting bat and bird-like features, while the other had a slim, humanoid shape and resembled a Mockingjay with a skull head.

Sar'ollaz continued to explain as they moved through the surreal space.  “The Covenant officially has fourteen members, but in truth, there is Balmuraun, the founder, which makes fifteen.”

The Seraph hummed, vision tilting to the floor.  “The entity linked to your life force seems to be the one that has knowledge about my people.”

He didn’t appear to like that direction because he turned his attention to Elinor.  “I can sense your discomfort and interest, Empress Elinor.  Is there something I can enlighten you on?”

Elinor followed the walls with her eyes, examining the branching hallways as they passed; in truth, the realistic depictions were off-putting.  “I … have yet to see a single door … It’s difficult finding the beginning and ending of these otherworldly scenes.”

Tiffany's accusing gaze latched onto a different topic.  “Sense … Are you prying into our minds with that psionic power Iris warned us about?”

Sar'ollaz chuckled.  “By no fault of my own, I assure you.  With the exception of Sari’aél and her masterful discipline, your spiritual defenses are so unguarded that it is taking an active effort on my part to minimize my perceptive field.”

The Witch grimaced.  “Lovely way of commenting on our weakness.”

“Indeed, it was,” Sari’aél smiled.  “However, there is nothing to fear, Tiffany; my father’s eye is upon us.”

Quin slowed for a moment as the walls around them took on a metallic/stone appearance, the scenes of various cultures vanishing, which instantly helped stabilize Elinor’s spinning mind with the scope and realism she was accustomed to.

Tiffany’s cheer had fallen a bit since they first arrived.  “That’s not my concern … Sar'ollaz, do you wish us harm had this artifact not compelled you to offer us hospitality?”

Sari’aél answered, drawing the woman’s questioning gaze.  “No, I think not.”

Sar'ollaz’s clawed hand lifted to scratch his chin.  “Ah, is that so?  Might you explain.”

“It is simple, Sar'ollaz; we would not have been on your radar.”

“... That’s somewhat insulting,” Tiffany mumbled.

The demon’s blood shifted around his face.  “He-he-he … Yes, you are correct.  Although that has significantly changed since I have met Elinor, and Sari’aél did show herself to pose a threat to me—in combination, you were not something I could ignore.”

“Hmm?”  Sari’aél’s grin turned sly.  “One complication being this island I was on the verge of destroying?  It acts as a catalyst between you and Balmuraun, does it not?”

“Mmh-hmm-hmm-hmm … Yes,” Sar'ollaz whispered in a neutral tone, “you are not wrong, and the only person that has been able to deduce that for … a very long time.  Your precision, prowess, and perception were quite a surprise when even the slightest unshackled.”

A smooth giggle slid through the Seraph’s throat.  “I rather enjoy that part, though.”

Sar'ollaz paused, causing them to stop as he looked into her joyful face.  “You … enjoy the shackling part … I do not understand.”

Elinor was about to ask Sari’aél to sidestep the topic, but they were being forced to be honest with one another; her apprehension released in a sigh, knowing it was inevitable that this would come into the light.

Sari’aél’s middle left-wing curved in for her to slide her fingers across the soft feathers, chest fluttering a little with her coloring cheeks.  “... I have never experienced what boundaries like these are like … to be limited was not something the Children of the Sun had as a concept other than viewing those beneath us.  Our father was liberty … uplifting in the word’s definition, yet to be pulled down—brought low—experience this … confinement is … I cannot express it,” she finished with the first embarrassed smile Elinor had seen on the serene angel.

Aileen piped up in an instant.  “You’re pretty and strong, though. Oh!  And—And you can float, and you’re an angel, and you have wings!  Oh … umm … sorry.”

“You are fine, child,” Sari’aél beamed, attempting to regain her composure.  “I suppose you could say I have never felt so powerful yet weak … to live a life such as this is … in a way … divine.”

Sar'ollaz didn’t reply for several seconds as the silence stretched; his blood-red eyes were fixated on her.  “... Hmm.  You seem to have just appeared out of the aether … curious.  In any case, we are almost to the correct location; everyone that can be there is, and all will partake in the ritual, no matter their distance.”

“Everyone … as in?”  Tiffany asked.

“Whoever is connected to your network—Oracle, analyze who will be affected on Empress Elinor’s side from what data you’ve been able to acquire.”

A monotone female voice spoke all around them, raising the hair on the back of Elinor’s neck.  “According to data acquired from the recent 4th scan, Empress Elinor and all of those with a minor or major link to her spirit will be brought into the binding—current estimate, 8,723 individuals.  These creatures include humans, Nalvean, Ri’bot, Yaltha’ma, Thélméthra, Quen'Talrat, Rocatha, and Jukal.”

Elinor’s eyes widened at the information.  “Rocatha … I don’t know what that is … And I haven’t raised any Yaltha’ma … Are you able to tell who is even connected to my Religious System?”

A rumble shook the air as Sar'ollaz hummed, continuing them along their path.  “A Religious System?  Interesting.  Perhaps we can get into more of that in time, but we must meet with the others to finalize the ritual—Balmuraun tells me it is very strict on proper form.”

Sari’aél hovered ahead a little, turning around to face them on their journey.  “My father is very keen on keeping things in order, and for peace to be guaranteed, all those bound to an ideal must be brought into accordance with the agreement.”

After she finished her statement, he stopped, one hand behind his back as the other directed their focus to a wall.  “Beyond is five of the fifteen Covenant members; regrettably, Baxter is in the infirmary, receiving emergency treatment to sustain him after Sari’aél’s appearance.”

“Oh?”  Tiffany grinned, glancing at the Seraph.  “How bad was the poor bird hurt—you know he was going to kill everyone within Empress Elinor’s Empire?”

Sar'ollaz’s tone was practically a shrug.  “I do not concern myself with what each Covenant Member does—it is neither my purpose nor desire to micromanage those I travel with, yet we share a common goal.  Baxter will live, but it will take several weeks to reconstruct his body from the state Sari’aél left him.  Luckily, Orinvia managed to sweep him to safety before his defenses utterly collapsed and he was left ash upon the wind.”

“Mmh … Shame,” Tiffany said with unmistakable sarcasm.  “Still, you’ve been a lot more ‘hospitable’ than him.”

“He-he-he,” Sar'ollaz’s jaw worked around a bit.  “I believe Queen Iris would have a differing opinion.  In any case, please follow the procedure and silently take your seat.  Introductions will be given by each of us, starting with the hosts.”

Before they could respond, the wall to their left melted into blue liquid, sinking into the floor without a sound to give them a wide enough entry point for all of them to enter.  Quin didn’t move.

The room that opened up was impossibly massive, given what they’d seen; it had to be some kind of spatially distorted area, and the alien creatures inside sent waves of threatening power.  The Blood Sun’s artifact overshadowed their crushing pressure, the same as it had continually done to Sar'ollaz, but with so many various dangerous signals, it was hard to not hesitate.

At that moment, Elinor knew that had Sari’aél not scared Balmuraun into using the Divine Artifact, there wasn’t a chance they would have survived assaulting this place to retrieve Iris.

The sound of rumbling stones, boiling lava, crackling electricity, and unnatural humming came from within the chamber as Sar'ollaz transformed into smoke, weaving around the colossal table to take his place at the head, on a high throne.

Quin’s hand twitched as Elinor placed her left fingers atop it, prompting her to carry her forward to the shimmering throne materializing out of the floor from blue liquid; two smaller seats grew beside it, and two platforms behind for Quin and Aileen.

The four-armed ape slowly walked forward to allow Elinor to swap to the chair; once situated, it rose over 50-meters into the air to be even with the wide table.

Tiffany took her own, following after Elinor’s, yet Sari’aél ignored the support, floating into the sky to hover beside Elinor.  Aileen and Quin’s separate circular pillars rose soon after to stand behind their Empress.

Every creature’s attention was on Sar'ollaz as he reached to his chest and pulled out the holy relic, saying, “I, Sar'ollaz, last son of God’roska, and the Pact Head, will lead the Covenant in the Song of Peace and Understanding with the Empire of Empress Elinor.”

The globe radiated golden light before floating to Elinor, who paused at the majesty of the scene.  “... Sari’aél is my representative,” she replied, turning the rights over to the Seraph.

The angel nodded with serene grace.  “As the recognized party of Empress Elinor, Ruler over the Undying Empire, I, Sari’aél, Daughter of the Blood Sun, will officiate the start of the Song of Peace and Understanding with the Covenant.  Let us be known.”

Elinor felt an unseen force weave into the fiber of her very being, branching out to everyone connected to her Undead and Religious System.  She wasn’t sure what Apollo was actually doing but instinctively knew that, at this point, everything was to be made bare.

The artifact rose high into the air, shedding golden rays across the entire room and making a few of the creatures shift uncomfortably.

Sar'ollaz cleared his throat, his tone jovial as his tail leisurely flicked left and right.  “To begin, we will go between us and introduce ourselves.  We all know what is at stake here … Peace and Understanding will be met.”

Elinor wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it soon became apparent as each entity spoke, opening up their minds and hearts—or lack thereof.

 “First,” Sar'ollaz stated, his tone still light, “a little about myself.  I am an Izralan, and I have traveled across the multiversal planes in search of a cure to something far more sinister than a disease—a parasite, you might say.

“Second, the Covenant is about looking for our own individual things, and we have banded together to aid one another in our tasks.  It could simply be providing information in one world or an activity in the next—we generally stay out of each other’s methods and ways.

“Third, I care nothing for you, Empress Elinor—you are not all that interesting as a person.  However, the powers you wield can be utilized in such a vast and mind-altering way that I cannot help but deal with your insignificant existence.  Had the source of that strange power—whatever is inside of you—went to another, I would feel no differently.”

He crossed his legs, hands resting on his armored lap.  “I wish you as much harm as you might have for an insect you mindlessly step on about your daily life.  Queen Iris is far more entertaining as a study subject, and I can see Tiffany having a few interesting quirks, yet Sari’aél is the one thing that takes the prize.

“Simply put, I wish to observe you because I believe you have the key to destroying this parasite that I have looked for eons.  I will offer no help unless equal compensation is provided, and I will be fair, Empress Elinor.

“I issue a ruling that no creature from the Covenant shall harm you nor your nation ‘directly,’ meaning overt attacks, yet how Baxter or any other might influence other nations is not a part of our problem.  I offer understanding for trade and direct peace between us; this will also mean that Baxter will not pursue to harm you through another nation, but not his actions that might create chaos, affecting you as a byproduct.”

He waved his hand toward the left side of the table.  “Arsheh?”

The Mockingjay-like creature shifted her legs, hidden behind a smoky gown that appeared to be a part of her physique.  Leaning back on her open-backed pedestal, she released a lovely hum.

“The others know me as Arsheh, and I am a Ralgruthiash.  This event has severely confused me and sent my mind ablaze with questions; I was preparing myself to visit one of the many invisible moons to test samples there, yet instead, I find myself entertaining the creatures that attacked us … Life is strange,” she giggled, causing an ugly feminine-shaped alien figure across from her to release a low rumble in her throat.

“Oracle does such a wonderful job of translating—has she improved, Sar'ollaz?”  He simply pointed at the artifact.  “Hmm … Yes, a most mysterious piece of … I cannot understand it.  How vexing.

“In any case,” she sighed, returning her attention to Elinor, “I am quite busy with my own examinations of this solar system’s many puzzles … I’m a cataloger by hobby, you see, and it is my mission to organize discoveries and catalog them … unlike the destructive Baraayas that love nothing more than to see beauty burn and chaos as their ultimate muse … disgusting creatures—Baxter happens to be at least … tolerable,” she grumbled.

Her head tilted to the left, hollow beak opening and closing while making gestures with her long fingers against her chest.  “Ah, anyway, I have no time to waste such energy as to bother with whatever … this is—I do not concern myself with the mysteries I cannot solve, and this … this feels like one of those.”

Arsheh’s tone brightened.  “Although, if you find something I like, then I am always willing to help with a good puzzle—only after I have completed my others—I have a list, you see.  Is … that what is expected, Sar'ollaz?”

He folded his fingers together atop the impossibly thin table that wasn’t supported by any pillar.  “There is the possibility that she will be granted temporary membership.”

“Oh?  Delightful.”  Her hollow eyes turned to Tiffany.  “I sense a curiosity in you—perhaps there is hope for some improvement.”

For once, Tiffany was speechless.

“Right!  Well, I have much to do.  I wish you luck on not dying, and … I will keep posted on the meeting from afar through Oracle.  Much to do.  Much to do.”

She vanished in a mist, leaving Elinor a little taken aback.  When they’d come to this meeting, she did not expect to have these insanely powerful creatures to be so … quirky.  Still, this turned out far better than she thought, and she contented herself to stay silent until it was her turn.

Sar'ollaz chuckled.  “As busy as always, it was more of a shock that Arsheh was inside when everything happened than anything else.”  He turned his head toward the nasty-looking alien woman closest to Elinor.  “Orinvia?”

Her large, clawed hand rose to brush back one of her bound locks, wood-like skin on her left side pulsating purple light that flared across her large halo, showing tiny pebbles swirling around it.  The creature’s voice was quite a bit deeper than she expected, right hand slamming down on the table. 

“We cannot accept defeat!  The Miallu do not accept the loss!”

“Meaning?”  Elinor coldly asked, turning her gaze to Sar'ollaz.

His tail curved around his idle left arm, clearly amused by her tone.  “The Miallu race has a long line of warriors which transfers their previous generation’s consciousness into the next, fusing them into … Orinvia,” he stated with a gesture.  “Within her culture, she is demanding a rematch with Sari’aél to prove she is superior.”

Tiffany lifted an eyebrow, shifting positions to stare at the angel.  “Eh ... Is that allowed?”

“It is,” she amiably replied.  “However, to reach a proper understanding, the task must be done where both parties can accept the outcome.”

Elinor’s hard eyes focused on Orinvia.  “Hmm ... I can accept a battle that is not to the death, and at what strength do you wish to fight her?  It will change the timeline of the date.”

Orinvia glared at her.  “Death is the only way!”

“He-he-he-he … I have a solution,” said a large creature with four clawed hands on his upper half, and a flaming crown on his tiny, monstrous head that was too small for his body.  It looked like an amalgamation of a gorilla with donkey legs and a monster’s face.  “Fight in The Dream … both parties will be satisfied, and I’ll get a lovely meal.”

Tiffany grimaced.  “Who are you, what do you mean ‘The Dream,’ and … a lovely meal?”

Orinvia hissed, but her horrifying mouth was peeled back in a smile, revealing horrible fangs.  “We accept … Dream Death is as good as being real … Power … We are not afraid—prepare for your doom!”

Sari’aél calmly waited for an explanation, which the furry creature gave.  “I will put the two of you in a dream space to fight to your heart's content—I feast upon the energies, and once a party is deceased, they return, mind experiencing everything that transpired within—but you will live.  He-he-he-he-he.”

“Ah…”  He reached up to scratch his humped, spiny back with his top hands, making Quin shiver; he was at least two feet taller than Ke’Thra’Ma.  “My name is Aidrh’ruz, and my species is known as the Arce.  My desires are simple … discover the greatest nightmare and devour it.”

“Empress?”  the Seraph asked; her internal emotions were on fire, light in her eyes.

Elinor leaned against the side of the throne.  “Hmm … You’ve never been challenged before.  Have you?”

“Never.”  Her full pink lips rose with excitement.  “I am bound to you, Empress.  Whatever you decide, I shall follow.”

She studied Sar'ollaz's wicked face, unreadable as the blood cycled around his horns and white hair.  “I feel I need to choose my words carefully ... What are the effects of this Dream Death?”

Aidrh’ruz’s top two fingers stretched out, stiffening with extending claws, his monstrous mouth opening to expel a pulse of rough, sweet-smelling wind that pressed against Elinor’s face; the glowing tattoos across his legs and arms flared, and the broken chains on his legs rattled while shifting positions.  “I will consume their memories—they will function but never know what they were.”

Weighing her options and knowing they had to reach a consensus, Elinor shifted her gaze to her angel.  “At what strength do you believe it to be a fair fight to make all parties happy because I trust you to win.”

“Orinvia is always victorious,” the Miallu snapped.

Elinor slowly nodded.  “I see.  To come to peace and understanding with your race, it means a victor must be crowned.”

Sari’aél’s hand pressed against the silver gem in the middle of her chest.  “There is no equalizing our strength Empress.  I suggest we set the day for two weeks from now … I will be disadvantaged but will not fail.”

She wanted to groan as the Seraph hid her trembling fingers behind her back; Sari’aél had never been in a losing fight—this was another one to tick off her bucket list.  Still, she was confident, but the woman was nothing but pride and pity, mixed with a hint of masochism—to understand what it was like to bleed … She wanted to be hurt.

“... Then I’ll condone it.”

Elinor’s brow pulled together, looking up at the ceiling as Arsheh's voice floated down to them.  “Oh?!  That might make for good research; I shall observe and document!  Let me put it on my schedule … 2-weeks, exactly, correct?  I need specifics!”

“This is not for your entertainment, Arsheh,” Orinvia hissed.

“No, it is for research!  Of course, your oversized head couldn’t comprehend such concepts.”

“You never accept challenges, like all Ralgruthiash; cowards in their hearts!”

The Mockingjay creature’s lilting tone rang around the area as she appeared on the table beside the Miallu out of condensing mist.  “Hmm … What good is a test where the results are guaranteed?  Best look elsewhere for your uneducated thrills.”

She was gone before she could bite back, Orinvia fanning away the lingering mist with disgust.  “Leave the fighting to those that enjoy it—study your lumps of invisible rock.”

“And this is why you are hard-stuck at your current strength, poor, young, little girl.”

Obviously, the Covenant weren’t on the best of terms with one another, but they somehow seemed to come together.

Elinor’s gaze turned to a tiny owl-like monster that was somewhat cute, despite its four arms and small wings; it might have been the ears, big eyes, or little antlers, but mainly because the little guy was only a foot tall.  The platform he was on rose a meter above the table so he could look around.

“O-Oh, is … is it my turn?!”  he asked with a high, charming voice.  “I’m Bo-Ko, and I’m looking for my little sister!  We were separated in … How long ago was it, Sar'ollaz?  I can’t even remember!”

He waved a hand in response.

“Ah!  Yes, yes, that’s it!  I’ve lost her for … lost her for … for 12,743,264 days!  She’s been hiding from me, and I’m trying to find her … I’m trying so hard, but she always runs into my shadow…”  He sighed.  “Yeah … I know, she can be mean—really mean sometimes, but I like you, and I think she will too!  You should help me find her!  I’m trying to collect things that will really make her happy and stay!  T-To be with me again—because it’s so sad being alone—I was alone for so long,” he sniffed.

“Oh!  Oh!  I’m not alone anymore, though!  I have Sar'ollaz, and Orinvia plays with me—sometimes, and Sylez scares me, and Arsheh reads me stories sometimes, Bacdeth makes me laugh … I always fall asleep at storytime, and she gets mad, he-he-he … Oh, and Baxter shows me so many fun places!  We should be friends, too!”

Sar'ollaz laughed.  “Only on even days, remember?”

He sighed.  “I know … If I meet with friends on odd days, they disappear forever!  The Ogacu takes them!  I saw him once!”

“Mhm…”  A low chuckle from a sophisticated voice pulled Elinor’s gaze to the last member of the room.  “You are quite the troublemaker, Bo-Ko.”

“You’re so funny, Bacdeth!”  he chortled, rolling around on his pillar.

Elinor didn’t know where to look at BecDeth; he had a strange polearm with a smoking pot at the end in his dark gray hands.  He was over 5 meters tall and looked straight out of a horror film.

His head was a gaping mouth with countless teeth inside, writhing, vine-like tentacles of various sizes writhing atop his head with dozens of black eyes across each one.  The terrifying thing fed into a golden neck-choker with what appeared to be a human face attached to the front.

Most of his torso was hidden behind a thick black cloak, two gray hands poking out of the abyss to hold his weapon.  Below the frayed hems were the lower half of a werewolf with oversized claws, positioned to pounce.

Out of everyone so far, he certainly took the prize for the most creepy.  “As you might have guessed, Empress Elinor,” his voice was smooth and hypnotic, “I am Becdeth, and I am searching for a prize … one that cannot be named, or it flees into the darkness—we have been getting close…”

His jaws snapped, claw-like pincers for lips opening to reveal the slick insides of its snapping teeth, each acting like fingers.  “I am so close … In any case, perhaps I can stop by and learn a bit more about you … I do wish to understand what has pulled Sar'ollaz’s attention as I was not here to witness the grand stage this winged creature put on … I dabble in art myself … not in the same way as Baxter.”

All Elinor could feel from him was a predatory clicking, but it was just his natural presence, and in the next instance, his voice changed feminine, causing a shiver to run down her spine.  “I have quite the collection you might be interested in … art can be so … fulfilling.”

The countless eyes stilled, shifting to Sar'ollaz’s dominating presence.  “Of course, as the Covenant stands … No harm will come to you and yours.  Peace and Understanding, I accept.”

“Not I!”  Orinvia demanded; the pebbles swirling around her halo increased in velocity.

Sar'ollaz waved a hand.  “You’ve made it clear, Orinvia … you bind it with your soul, in two weeks, Peace and Understanding will be brought together upon Dream Death.”

“I accept,” Sari’aél chimed.  “I pray to my father it will not be a pitiful showing—a single cut would be thrilling.”

“Cocky golden bird,” Orinvia growled, and Elinor wondered if the creature was trying to insult the Seraph, but it just went right over her head, not that it was great, but perhaps they didn’t have the right context.

Sar'ollaz’s attention fixated on Elinor.  “Now, Empress Elinor … Speak for Peace and Understanding.”

Glancing around at the silently waiting monsters of nightmare, Elinor folded her fingers in her lap, knowing the moment the divine artifact’s light faded, she would be practically catatonic by the sheer presence these creatures held—Baxter truly was the bottom of the totem pole, except Bo-Ko.  Still, his story certainly sounded suspicious and alarming, yet the Blood Sun allowed it.

“I am frightened of you,” Elinor stated without reservation; it was the truth, and she had to speak it.  “I have no doubt Sari’aél could defend me and kill all of you—be it at the expense of this planet, and I recognize your strength.”

Orinvia's face darkened at her statement, but she didn’t pursue the topic, clearly angered that she wasn’t struck down for blasphemy.

“Not a wrong statement,” Sar'ollaz mused.  “Still, quite presumptuous.  Had Sari’aél continued to unlock those sealed powers, I’m sure she would have realized there are … many options at my disposal.”

Elinor resituated herself in the seat; not that it was uncomfortable but because of the horrific monsters that sat around her.  Still, Tiffany and Sari’aél’s presence were comforting, even if they were powerless to stop these titans without great sacrifice.  “I do not doubt it, yet also will not doubt her power, and you experienced it yourself.  

“That being said, I do not wish for altercations between any of you.  Baxter initiated this entire problem that escalated into you holding Iris hostage and forcing me to find some way to get her back—which resulted in Sari’aél joining my Empire.”

“Fortuitous,” BecDeth said in a feminine voice.

“In many ways,” she whispered to herself, before raising her voice, attempting to sound confident, which was daunting in the face of such creatures.  “So long as no one breaks this pact, then I have no issues remaining neutral or even positive, should you wish for my help.”

Sar'ollaz’s tail flicked against the table, head tilting a little with the blood around his face.  “It is not us that will need the help, Empress Elinor … Should you wish for my aid, I will not be far.”

Sari’aél giggled beside her.  “Should that event come to pass, you are not the only option.”

Tiffany snickered.  “She said it; you have a few individuals that seem … somewhat pleasant.”

He turned his crimson eyes to the grinning Witch, his tone holding an edge of amusement.  “Hmm … Neutrality is set with the conditions mentioned and understanding in time.  Has everyone else agreed in their souls?”

Elinor touched her breast as she felt thousands of individuals instantly accept peace; oddly, her Religious System was strengthened by quite a bit from this exercise.  “We do…”

“As do we,” Sar'ollaz stated, rising to his feet.  “Baxter’s desire for further conflict has faded and been replaced; he has accepted the outcome, and so has everyone else … It is bound.”

A seal wove inside Elinor’s spirit, spreading across everyone else with her acting as the catalyst; she was safe from the Covenant with only one exception, Orinvia's challenge.

Elinor used the arms of the chair to rise to her own feet on the platform.  “I will see you in two weeks…”  Her gaze fixated on a small silver stick with gems attached to it.

“He-he-he-he-he…”  Sar'ollaz’s tone brightened again.  “I look forward to hearing what you wish to trade, Elinor; hold the yellow gem to be transported back to Sha’Guala … Don’t be a stranger.”

The golden artifact began to evaporate, fading into nothing as it fulfilled its purpose, and the second her hands closed around the rod, she was teleported back to her city’s main square, Tiffany, Sari’aél, Aileen, and Quin beside her.

Tiffany growled, glaring at the floating island overhead as clouds moved to cover it.  “... He sent us down before that thing’s protection wore off…”  Her voice came through the Nexus.  “Elinor, we must get much stronger if we hope to survive in the future if creatures of that strength are fearful of places on this planet.”

“The path is laid before us,” Sari’aél replied, vision rising to the now obscured island, still remaining overhead, and Elinor knew it would not likely move.  “Have faith in yourself, Empress.”

Elinor, Sari’aél … No … heh, you like the title.

“That … was wicked!”  Aileen gasped, jumping up and down.  “I’m … I actually didn’t scream!  I’m getting stronger, Empress!  I’m getting stronger!”

Tiffany giggled with Elinor, the Witch reaching down to brush back the girl’s bouncing locks.  “You are, dearie.  Why don’t you take Sari’aél and introduce her to everyone?  I’m sure they’d love seeing a cute girl like you guiding around our new resident angel and Warlord.”

Edmon was already in contact with Tiffany as the two conversed about what transpired, leaving Elinor to sit on Quin’s hand and look up at the cloudless, starry sky surrounding the hazed city.

“Hmm…”  Demon below, and a devil in the sky—when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.

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