Legend of Ransera

The citadel was alive with activity. It was invigorating, to be sure. Phocion had trained his whole life to handle major crises and yet, due to his mother's machinations, they were few and far between in Solunarium... at least crises that she hadn't catalysed to benefit their aims. This one was unexpected. Well, at least sort of.

"Attend me." As he stepped through the portal into the research room, Sentinel Phocion's voice spoke to the very souls of those gathered- His Emblem demanding undivided attention from all in earshot.

"The assessors prognosticated the eventuality that the Void might seek to reclaim Athalia. Though we knew not what form that might take, we believe this to be an opening salvo. Filia Vacui..." He turned his attention directly to Hilana's voidborn sister, "Whatever happens today may swing the pendulum away from you, but it will likely swing back until some sort of equilibrium is formed. This time it is to our benefit to aid you, and so resources will be duly allocated to that end. Next time? Well..." He shook his head, "The battle is already underway. Let's see our way through this event first, shall we? Lykos." He tilted his head toward the lupine frost warden.

"This is a splendid opportunity for you to practise your Craft writ larger than you were able to here in this room. There is a beastie outside and I need it impaired. Hampered. If it has blood, I want it somewhere just shy of frozen. Don't worry about killing something like that, you won't, but your divine magic might pierce through aught that hinders a mortal elementalist." As if this was a segue, he shifted his appropriately icy gaze to Hilana and Athalia.

"Vastii. Stay to the rear of the fray. The creature will be drawn to its sister in Darkness, but we'll have Magi close at hand to defend you. If things get too hot, we'll Traverse you both to a more remote location. We can't afford to place you anywhere near the cities, but you are desert people. It will, at least, give you a headstart if the citadel is overwhelmed." He turned his attention, next, to Finn.

"You and I will be situated behind the vanguard. If either or both of us can use our Marks to quell and control the creature, then victory is ours. That said, it will be a strange and an alien soul so it will doubtless take us time to comprehend its motivations enough to manipulate them. So, Lykos, your efforts will aid the Sentinels in buying us that much-needed time. Remember, if any Sentinel gives you an order it is to be obeyed to the letter as if it came directly from me. It's entirely possible that it did." He said, his eyes glowing with white hot brilliance for a split second.

"If you have questions, ask them on the roof. Finn, portal." He commanded with a blithe wave of his black-gloved hand.

He took the vial from Hilana with a stern nod then, pausing before stepping through the portal, he glanced to Lykos, raising an eyebrow at his interest in 'cleansing Athalia of the Void'. In a placid tone that sounded less chiding than the wording might have implied, he answered:

"Likely? Næ. Possible? Aye. But that is a matter for another time and a place far from Atraxia's borders, for I will not suffer you or your 'pack' to invite further calamity unto this realm should you fail in this." He glanced briefly to Hilana for emphasis, then back to Lykos.

"As I said, they will be kept safe here or absconded into the desert. If the latter be the case, you may seek them out there." He turned back toward the portal, muttering: "If we survive." As he stepped through, to be assaulted by the din of the creature and the Sentinel vanguard assailing it. The Mark at his wrist began to glow silver-white as did his already pale eyes, the grace of Midnight's Mother seemed to blossom in answer to that of the Deus Imperator. The chainlike tendrils protruding from Phocion's arm, unseen to those who could not Semble to the level of Master, reached for Finn's Radiance like vines seeking sunlight.

He stalked to the edge of the plateau, and peered ahead toward the massive creature. When he spoke his voice was different. It wasn't louder, deeper or more robust. If pressed no one could have described the distinction in any useful way, but there was something that lent compelling import to his sentiments.

"Focus on the weaknesses. The hungry Void does not like to vomit up its conquests, and so the call of the vacuum still beckons it backward even as it is compelled forth. This is both a drain and a distraction to be exploited. Lykos, chill the beast. Do what you can to slow it down, whilst Finn and I commune and assess." It was clear that the vanguard far below, was straining- slowly being pushed back by the advance of the lumbering behemoth. He glanced sidelong to Finn,

"What say we get a closer look?" Finn would feel himself rising from the roof as Phocion did the same at his side. It didn't feel as though he was being lifted. There was no pressure being applied to any part of his form as he began to levitate. It was an odd sensation, out of his control, as he and Phocion, surrounded by a ball of Kinetic energy, hovered slowly toward the monstrous void demon.

As Finn used his Mesmer to serve as a conduit for his Emblem's power, Phocion used his Æther Sight and Sense. Along that thread of æther, he projected one of the tendrils protruding from his wrist toward the creature, invoking the power of Unmasking inherent to the Mark of Supremacy. It was clear that this was no creature born of the Void, for the Void did not create, but its origins were yet murky... nebulous. They would need time, and the subvigili were now in full retreat at the order of their instructors. Another complement of full Vigili was rushing forth from the citadel to relieve them, but the creature was advancing and the Emblem-bearers would need more time before their power might overtake a creature so mighty and enigmatic.

Though Phocion now levitated hundreds of yards from where the others still stood on the roof, Lykos would hear a simple command in his mind in that familiar, docile voice:

"Now."

Now that more seasoned Sentinels had relieved the subvigili, they were quick to take the wordless cue to support Lykos. Elementalists surged forward to complement his Divine Craft with their own Arcane, amplifying the potency of the cold consequences that were assailing the invader.

The singularly focused voidspawn groaned against this obstacle to its already challenging task of pulling away from the vacuum it knew as home. Massive joints creaked as they struggled against the icy impediments, and its great steps slowed to nearly a halt.

“I see them, now…” Phocion intoned, “The ties that bind.” With crystal clarity he could now regard the chains that connected this creature to the Void. They were slack, permissive, but connected to something behind the demon… some Voidsource, to be sure. Clenching his teeth, Phocion tightened the chains and strengthened the Void’s influence over him.

“The Void devours…” He reminded the entity that the same rules that brought it to Atraxia applied to it as well as its intended quarry. “You work against your own aims by removing yourself, a greater being, from the Vacuum’s embrace. Can you not feel it pulling at you?” Phocion tugged the tethers for emphasis and any forward momentum ceased in the beast, as it slowly fought against its own freezing viscera to crane its neck to look backward with bemused ambivalence that was only amplified by Finn’s Empyreal command.

As they hovered nigh before it, Assessors below ordered the elementalists to withdraw their energies slowly, as they sensed the confusion now halting the creature as aptly as their Craft. They were better off reserving their æther stores in case circumstances shifted back toward aggressive advancement. For now it appeared the creature was considering retreat, which was a splendid opportunity for the assessors to ply their Craft upon the entity… and upon Lykos at the zenith of his divinity.