The Eternal Hymn: Prelude to Silence

C'mon guys... Only one vote? You're making me sad.

Bump.

A

I flipped a coin.

B

We need a miracle named Azura but who shall be the one to break this acursed tie????

Well, it's been over 24 hours. You know what that means...

A wins! Congratulations, you've chosen what is essentially Hector Hard Mode.

I will update sometime later today.

Kryian's Tale: Act 1
Prologue: He Who Brings The Night

The shadow flitted through the dark trees, constantly vanishing and reappearing in different areas. To him, it was as simple as breathing. But to the shadow's pursuers, it was like trying to track the wind. The moon was full that night, round and brilliant, and her gentle light seeped down through the thick canopy at odd intervals. The light bounced off something in the Shadow's arms, something he was carrying, something that was unspeakably precious. It was for that something the men pursued the wind.

The shadow made one mistake, however, one that would cost him dearly. In all his haste, he didn't scout the land beforehand, nor did he know the area well. And at this time, you see, the Ghost King was not all-seeing. Indeed, this was well before the Ghost King was even heard of.

The girl waited patiently for the old man to continue his story, but he merely takes a sip from his mug and smiles. "That's enough for tonight, lass. I'll finish the tale some other time."

The girl whines and complains, but a quick word from her father, the Tavern's Bartender and Proprietor, and she sulks away. "I see you're as fond of your stories as ever old friend," Dirk, the Bartender, says with a tired smile.

The old man gives a slight shrug. "It's all I really have these days. But I don't mind. After what happened in Etruia... I don't think I'm cut out for adventuring anymore. I'm perfectly content settling down here, old friend."

Dirk inclines his head in understanding. "Aye, I know what you mean. It already seems like a lifetime ago."

The Storyteller and Minstrel of the One-Eyed Owl laughs. "For some of us it was, you old dog. Anyway... How's the wife and the little one doing?"

Dirk beams proudly. "Fine, thanks to you. I don't know if she would have made it without your help. I can't thank you enough."

The Storyteller grins and finishes his ale in a single gulp. "Ah, how about another pint then? I think I'd like to sleep under the bar tonight."

Dirk rolls his eyes, but he chuckles slightly. "Whatever you say, you old fool. Coming right up. But don't blame me if you don't wake up."

"Aye, that's what I'm hoping for," the old fool jokes, grinning mischievously.

Again, the Bartender only rolls his eyes. Satisfied, the Storyteller turns to his audience, or what was left of it. For a once grand tavern, the One-Eyed Owl had definitely seen better days. Or better centuries, more like it. This damn tavern was nearly as old as Canaan itself.

It was, for lack of a better description, a ghost town. A couple patrons drank their sorrows away in a booth in the corner, while a third rambled about various conspiracies, and how everyone needed to wear Iron Helmets for their own protection. Another was wildly swinging an invisible blade at invisible enemies, and tripping over his own feet in the process. And then there was the man in the far corner, drinking quietly by himself. He was clearly different from the rest. Dressed all in black, he resembled Death, as if he were simply waiting to see who dropped dead first. The imaginary swordsman, or the old Storyteller?

He wouldn't have thought twice about 'Death', if it weren't for his eyes. The man did his best to avoid eye contact with anyone, but when he looked up, just once, and the old Storyteller caught sight of his dark eyes, he knew immediately the man was anything but ordinary. However, he dismissed him as an old soldier, probably haunted by the war, a mistake that would soon prove to be the greatest mistake of his long life.

Dirk returned with his ale, which he finished in a single go. The Storyteller excused himself and bid goodnight to the Bartender, and walked out into the cold night air.

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POV ???
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So that's my target? Athos Stormbringer... He certainly doesn't look like much.

You finish your drink, and rise to your feet. You drop a few gold coins on the table as payment, probably at least three times more money than you owed, and silently follow after the old man with the walking stick. A rush of near freezing air pelts you as you step into the moonless night, but you hardly notice. You slip into the shadows, emerging into an alleyway a couple blocks down, directly in front of your target.

Impressive... I have to give him credit. He realized I was tailing him in an instant. Decent speed, for a relic.

The old Storyteller halts, his face grim. "I see... I should have known it was you. I must be losing my edge."

As calmly and silently as a wraith, you retrieve your blade from your cloak. Your silence seems to enrage the old man, and something in him snaps. "You think it will be that easy?! Fool!!! Your overconfidence will be your undoing! I am Athos Stormbringer, wielder of the sacred lightning, and the last Master of the Graelwind Order! You aren't even in my league, pup! Now begone, and return to dust!!!"

The legendary Archmage slams his staff into the ground, and the Sun illuminates the night sky.

(Continued)

Your blade glows an ominous purple, and you vanish. In a split second, you reappear behind your opponent, and the Archmage drops to his knees. You sheathe your sword, place your hands in your pockets, and slowly begin to walk away.

"Why?" Athos gasps, stunned and injured, but very much alive.

"That is for you to decide," you say simply, vanishing into the night.

You reappear in a large opulent office draped in red, where a giant of a man, encased in blood red armor, sits behind an even larger desk. You walk forward, now only a shimmering shadow in a white mask, and the Blood General looks up from his mountain of paperwork. "Well? Do I even need to ask?"

That metallic voice of his always did bother your sensitive ears... Hopefully, one day soon, you'll get a chance to silence that awful sound permanently. "The deed is done. The Graelwind Order will trouble us no longer."

The Blood General gives a derisive scoff. "And yet, still, you have not managed to track down the Rebel Leader. Perhaps the tales of the Ghost King's legendary tracking skills were misleading? Shall I hand the job over to the Mage? Although, I cannot guarantee her safety then, and Lord Vaas wants her alive, so that could pose a problem..."

He's fishing. Does he suspect something? No... He isn't the kind of man to be indirect. If he suspected something, you would know it. "It's her sword. It serves as a perfect counter to my abilities. The Mage would have the same problem. Now, if you would be so kind, I require my payment."

The Blood General reaches beneath his desk, retrieves a vial of golden liquid, and tosses it to you. "Here. Catch. We'll save the topic of your failures for another time. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

You render yourself corporeal long enough to slip the vial into your coat pocket, choosing to ignore the bastard's baiting. Still, you are curious of these 'pressing matters'. "Oh? Such as?"

"My scouts have reported sightings of a certain tactician from the North. Apparently, she's trying to meet up with the Resistance. The Resistance has sent an advance force, led by the Laguz Janus, to protect her until the main force arrives. You are to take your men, confront the enemy, and stop them from recruiting her at all costs. This comes down directly from Lord Vaas, so do try to capture her alive, O Silent One."

Is that so... For Vaas to take an interest himself... And to send one of the Grand Three, no less... A tactician from the North, huh. "Who exactly am I dealing with here?"

For some strange reason, you get the feeling the Blood General is smiling. "One of the last Dragon Laguz, Ena Godfried. I trust you can handle such an opponent."

A dragon... Well, this should be fun.

Fort Gerald, Northwestern Cecilia Plains...

You stand silently upon a lone hill, nothing more than a flicker in the wind, overlooking the vast military encampment below. Hundreds of tents are stretched out over a single area, all centered around a giant black fort with great, imposing walls. It truly was a sight to see... Even if you had seen it a thousand times. Still... This borders on insanity. Such a force, all for one girl? Even if she is a dragon- which is unconfirmed- this is ridiculous. Or is Duke Vaas more concerned about the Resistance? Well, no matter. You have a job to do regardless.

You vanish into the morning air, and ride upon the wind. You slip unnoticed into the camp, like a ghost, and glide over to the largest tent, the Command Tent. Inside, you can hear voices.

"That self righteous bastard! Who the hell does he think he is?!" A man slams his fist on a wooden table, crumpling a tactical map and knocking over a jar of ink. Three other men stand around the table, each with a similar grim expression.

Ah.. Upon closer inspection, you recognize these fine fellows. The man who spoke is Colonel Froid, one of the Duke's top military advisors, and the others are similar high ranking officers. So then... Why the disgruntled expressions?

"There isn't anything we can do about the matter," another man interjects, this one being a Lieutenant Colonel. "A message to the Duchy would take days, even on Wyvern wings. We must simply await His Eminence's arrival."

Of course... He means you. How irritating. "What is the issue?" You demand curtly, shimmering into existence.

The hardened officers gasp in shock and pale, even stepping back. Only Colonel Froid retains his composure. Somewhat. "Your Eminence! Sir, we were ordered to mobilize at Fort Gerald, in preparation for our next assignment, under your command. But General Rei, the Commander of the Fort, has refused to permit us entry for almost an entire day now. We've been forced to camp out here like rats. And what's worse, sir, your own troops, the Whispers, have refused to move an inch without your explicit orders-"

You hold up a shadowy hand, silencing him. "I understand the situation, and will see to it myself."

You vanish without a word, and materialize directly into the Commander's quarters in the Fort, effortlessly bypassing the fort's security. Brigadier General Rei... You've heard of the man before. A prodigy, as the rumors and tales suggest, who achieved the rank of Colonel at the unprecedented age of twenty five. Now, several years later, he is known to be a merciless warrior and a brilliant strategist. And apparently, he's also quite suicidal.

You find the man still in bed, and he doesn't even stir at your sudden entrance. Your temper flares briefly. "On your feet, General. Now."

"Aww, C'mon honey, just give me five more minutes..."

Your vision nearly turns red, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. Still, you're quickly losing patience. "Get up. Now."

Your voice intensifies, and it turns inhuman, deep and terrible, even echoing. The General bolts upright in bed. "Wha-?"

"Do not make me repeat myself again, General."

General Rei focuses his sleepy brown eyes on you, and he yawns. "Hmm? Oh, Lord Silence. I didn't expect to meet one of the Grand Three in person. What can I do for ya, milord?"

Beneath your mask, you blink in surprise. So he knows who you are, and he still acts like that? Interesting... Perhaps the rumors are true. "It has come to my attention that you refuse to allow my troops to enter. Explain yourself."

He scratches the back of his neck and gives a light, almost carefree laugh. "Oh, that? My bad. Colonel Froid didn't bring any official orders with him, so my hands were tied. But since you're here, well, that kinda validates his story. I'll put the word out to let your men in."

"Good," you say simply, fading once again. How typical... You should have expected this. Duke Vaas rarely hands out physical orders, rather, he expects his very name to fulfil that role. The pompous oaf... He has no clue how to rule or lead.

You return to the Command Tent outside, and inform him of the misunderstanding, as well as the fact his forces won't be needed. Smaller groups are easier to command, and have much better maneuverability, which is precisely what you need. Afterwards, you rouse your personal guard from their tents, and prepare to set out.

In all honesty, you are quite excited to meet a dragon.

C, have Rei lead nine whispers to route the bandits... Wait, have Zavrael lead them, and Rei join us to focus on the resistance.

From plot, I can tell Rei is the better fighter, and since we are fighting my Azura, we need strong back up.