Chapter One

Zol Introduction

It is unclear if there is, in fact, a bright and shining center of the Expanse, but if there was one, the shard of Zol would be the furthest from it. Eternally murky and mostly an uninhabitable craggy rock, the inhabitants claim that their shard was formed on top of the skull of some giant monster and you can almost see it…if you turn your head and squint. Nearly everyone who lives on Zol resides in a giant pentagram of a city that is split into two parts: The Twilight Harbor and Crypt Market. While these two share many similarities, they also could not be more different. The Charon’s Clay is the ruling trade federation and specializes in the shard’s primary export: Karami Anima. These biomechanical creatures are forged of metal, wood, and other natural elements, and infused with the souls of animals that wash up on the shores of this depressing region. Souls that are inexplicably drawn to it as if the giant crystal at the heart of Zol was a spiritual magnet pulling them in. Now, this Shard has been officially labeled by The Inter Expanse Order of Unity (or IEOU) as a Cursed Shard due to the powers manifested by the populus there - soulshapers is their designation and they are classified as extremely potentially dangerous following the actions of Zardon the Mutilator who managed to find a way to shape the spiritual essence of actual Ensouled beings. This means that no one born on Zol is allowed to leave and the Expanse Vanguard (or E.V.s) make sure of that. Despite this designation, however, the Charon’s Clay is officially sanctioned as Karami Anima manufacturers for exporting their wares through outsider vessels to the rest of the Expanse. 

And then that brings us to the other half of Zol: Crypt Market. The lower city doesn't have the funds or ornamentation of its upper half, nor does it receive any official status from the IEOU. This means that they have had to find their own way and have an infamous black market network of their own Karami Anima as well as specializing in using these souls for body modifications, something that isn’t illegal to have, as per the Hands Off My Junk Act of 237, but is illegal to create and sell. Despite operating in the shadows and on the wrong side of the law, Crypt Market has a reputation among criminals as being a potentially wildly profitable place to set up shop, provided you can survive the cutthroat hierarchy and incredibly dangerous work. Many a desperate or crazy soul have come to Crypt Market to make a name for themselves and have ended up returning to the dust. The people of Zol, and especially Crypt Market, have lived hard and haunted lives, but have somehow managed not to let it get them too down and live relatively normal lives.

Ni’ssa Weaver clamors down the roof of Spinner’s Soul, her 8 legs being careful not to damage the shingles any more than they already are while carrying a steaming hot sweet potato pie and a kettle of nettle tea. Her arachnidian body isn’t the easiest Ensouled form in the Expanse to navigate around the world generally made for bipedal frames, but it does come in handy when trying to scare away rowdy teenagers trying to sneak a slice of her signature cornbread and coffee from the attic’s kitchen using what appeared to be a person sized fishing rod system hooked to a spirit bike to dangle one of them like they were hunting for Karapin. She swears she would have to have a talk with at least one of their mothers, but considering young Stonk’s mother works as an Enforcer for The Jack, maybe ratting out their behavior might be better for the kids to go left unsaid.

A Skaarab Tram pulls up and begins unloading passengers as the giant long nosed face at the front bellows directions, destinations, and arrival times and the beetle-like arms help a family with their luggage. A tall woman with long flowing purple hair steps off, strides over, and takes a seat at one of the tables and crosses her tall boots on a nearby stool as she gently rests a sword as tall as she is pointed down into the ground where it sinks a few inches before standing upright on its own with a dark energy pouring out of the blade like smoke. She settles the long fabric around her arms, revealing a patch for the Expanse Vanguard with the Ranger class designation on her shoulder, despite her outfit clearly not being the standard uniform for the EVs.

Ni’ssa puts on a warm smile, or at least the best she can manage for most folks considering what she has to work with, and comes over to the woman’s table and pours her a cup of coffee and drops three cubes of sugar sprites into it, which pop and fizzle before releasing tiny spirits that begin to paddle their sugar cubes around the cup with ethereal arms.

“I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you around these parts for a while, Ranger Izumi. Not that I’m complaining, nobody else appreciates my coffee like you do.”

Despite having a fairly cold and calculating face, the woman smiles upon taking the cup in her hands.

“I told you, Ni’ssa, it’s just Mei to you. And no offense, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be. Although I do have half a mind to break protocol and bring you on as my personal chef aboard The Emenator. Your coffee alone could keep me going for weeks.”

Ni’ssa pulls up a stool and sits for a moment as she still continues to work with her other arms behind her.

“So I trust this means you’ve got another fugitive, pirate king, or serial killer you’re hunting?”

Mei laughs and reaches into the air and uses a finger to absentmindedly cut a tiny hole in space and reaches in and pulls out a piece of paper and hands it over to Ni’ssa.

“I wish. No, something far worse, I’m afraid. I’m looking for my fool of a husband. I figure if someone is going to lock him up,  it only seems right for it to be me. Especially since there’s at least a 50% chance I won’t vaporize him on sight, which is better odds than anyone else after him. This time he took something he shouldn’t have. I don’t understand what it does exactly, but it has a LOT of important people putting in some calls to some very nasty people.”

Ni’ssa frowns and looks at the paper, which is a wanted poster and features a picture of a man in a duster coat sporting a large black hat and several firearms pausing in the middle of a firefight with 3 different groups to pose for a picture.

“Twenty MILLION Q-Bits! Oh Kel, what the hell have you gone and done this time…”

Kel's Introduction

The fog in Crypt Market moves with an unnatural grace, thick and luminous green, swirling like a living thing across the cracked cobblestones. It pulses and breathes, a low hum almost like a heartbeat reverberating through the narrow alleys. All manner of Ensouled walk the streets without much regard for the fog, having grown accustomed to it. Karami Anima weave through the city—some focused on assigned tasks, others roaming wild.

Kel Astor watches from the dim interior of a tavern, the door swinging shut behind another shadowy figure as flickering, eerie candles cast their strange multicolored light over the warped walls. A dull thud echoes from a worn bulletin board, plastered with faded wanted posters pinned by daggers, spikes, and shards of metal. The faces of the criminals, most sought by the Expanse Vanguard, are sketched hastily—some defaced with crude mockery from bored patrons. These are Ensouled who dared to challenge the laws of the Shards themselves, their likenesses lingering like ghosts in the dim light. Some are local renegades; others, inter-Expanse outlaws.

A metal tankard slides down the bar, clinking softly as it stops before Kel’s outstretched hand. His mechanical arm hisses as gears shift, and he downs the drink in one motion, the cold metal meeting his lips like an old, bitter friend. A mechanical bird, its feathers bright and colorful in odd contrast to the surroundings, is adorned with a strange muzzle. It hops from his shoulder to perch on the edge of the empty mug, peering at him with glowing, intelligent eyes.

Behind the bar, the bartender polishes a glass with the ease of someone who has seen too much and stopped caring long ago and gives a deep sigh.

“You’ve been talking about this for years, Kel. You really think this time’s going to be different? You know the rules of Cursed Shards like ours—nobody gets to leave. The EV will be on you as soon as you dust off, if you somehow manage to get that far. And who’s going to play the damn Score so you aren’t just dead weight?”

Kel smirks, standing with a slow, deliberate motion as he reaches for his hat and rifle. His silhouette shifts in the uneven light, the mechanical joints of his arm whirring softly as he slings the gun over his back. 

“That’s why I’m not going alone. I’m going to do it, Zazz. I’m going to get the Seraph’s Gift.”

The bartender lets out a short, sharp laugh, the sound laced with disbelief. “Sure, you and everyone else in the blasted universe. You’d have think you’d have given up on that after your wife left. What cursed fools would be crazy enough to throw in with you on this? You know the Expanse chews up dreamers like you and spits out their bones.”

Kel flicks a coin onto the counter, the soft chime of metal on wood ringing louder than it should in the heavy air. He meets the bartender’s gaze, his grin sharp as the blades on the wanted board behind them. “My kind of crazy,” he says, adjusting the brim of his hat. “They just might not know it yet.”

He walks to the door and pauses in the frame as the green fog begins to seep in from the Shard of Zol.

“I’m putting together a crew, Zazz… for the biggest heist Crypt Market’s ever seen. The Jack won’t even know what hit him. And I know exactly where to start…”

Shaymas Brugburn Changes Sides

Shaymas Brugburn adjusted the collar on his beige workers shirt in the mirror and frowned to himself at the poor fit. Not that he was unique in that regard, he was actually fairly certain the work clothes given were intended to fit poorly, but it still bothered him from time to time. He had a manual labor job and on top of that was in the Pits regularly, so he was pretty proud of his physical form, especially for being in his late forties. But of course, the work clothes hid any possible hint of a Dreg like him having any power. He sighed and glanced over at a leaflet stuck to the corner of the mirror that was labeled “Dregs United Meeting”. His cousin had given it to him and he had promised to not accidentally “lose” this one like the last three he had been given. Maybe this was the time he went to a meeting to hear his cousin Burt stomp his feet and wave his fist in the air or whatever it is they did at these meetings to “resist the oligarchy”. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. If he just kept his head down, in a couple years, he might move up to the Lead Landscaper at work and then who knows? He kissed his wife and kids goodbye and took the two hour tram ride to work uptown. He looked out the window and into the sky and he saw the more wealthy getting in their Dusters and zipping over to their workplaces right across the street practically and he didn’t even register anymore when a group of teenage Enforcer recruits held up the tram and had everyone hand over their money. He just absentmindedly handed over a small paper bag with the exact number of QBits he had calculated would be enough to make them not rough him up for more, but not too much that it would starve his family. He got off the tram and walked to the estate he worked at and scanned in and picked up his tools and got to work. He was always earlier than the rest of his crew, not because he loved work, but because he found it more peaceful to put on his ear protectors to quiet everything and get started before the house dregs showed up. They were just such tremendous assholes and bootlickers on top of it. Yeah, he was never getting that promotion, he just didn’t do enough groveling. He worked his 12 hour shift trimming the many, many hedges and making sure to not get eaten by any of them. It had gotten dark and he was humming along when all of a sudden something big hit one of the shrubs he had just finished working on. It was one of the house creatures and before he could move to do anything, it was grabbed and yanked further inside. He was then knocked off his ladder and fell to the ground and his ear protectors got knocked off and he could hear the noise and confusion now and he got up and looked around. There was some sort of robbery going on and the mistress of the house was yelling at the security officers. One of them knocked him back down as he rushed past to attack one of them, only to get violently thrown back across the walkway and back over his head. Another one, Graham, grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him upright and shoved a stave into his hands,

“Congratulations, Allan, you’ve been promoted! Now go knock that girl senseless or you’re fired!”

Shaymas looked down at the weapon in his hand and then over at the group of clearly very experienced fighters that were besting both ensouled and creature with ease. Graham ran up behind one of the intruders and made to take a swing at them and then it happened. Shaymas just snapped. He didn’t even remember crossing the distance, he was just there.

“Its FLUXING Shaymas, GRAHAM, we’ve worked together for 12 years! You know what, FLUX YOU, and FLUX the Lauringtons, I hope they do get robbed!”

And with that he clubs Graham on the back of the head with his stave, knocking him out cold, and turns to the woman who had punched someone so hard they flew across the steps.

“This may sound like a stupid question, but do you want any help?”

Graham Gilford Interrogation

Graham Gilford gasped for breath as his head came up above the bucket of water for who knows how many times, the bindings on his wrists cutting in deeper as he reflexively tried to steady himself, his vision swimming as he was thumped back down into a chair by an Enforcer. Across from him, arms crossed and looking none too pleased was a beast of a man who was almost as wide as he was tall: Eyomund Lamplighter himself - something that under normal circumstances Graham would consider a great honor.

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that the whole lot of you couldn’t stop a small group of petty thieves? What with all of the training my department gave you, even if you did go turncoat and become private security. Not only not stop them, but allow both the Lamplighter and Laurington name to be quite literally dragged through the mud? Have you even SEEN Genevieve? She’s a mess, man!”

He pulls out a carving knife and begins to cut a fruit in his hand as he speaks, making very deliberate cuts that send a clear message.

“Sorry, sir! But you don’t understand, they were…different. I could have sworn they had powers or something! And then their leader, he acted like knocking over a great House was nothing!”

Eyomund growls at him and begins to flick pieces of fruit at Graham’s face the longer he talks before Graham eventually stops talking.

“Do you understand the damage this does to the balance? The sewer Dregs are going to think they can just come uptown and take what they want! Oh, you better believe someone is going to be punished for this. You said someone hit you on the back of your head WHILE you were facing the thieves, that means that someone from the estate was working with them. Tell me who, DAMMIT!”

Graham remains quiet, head bowed.

Eyomund lunges forward in a flash and buries the knife in Graham’s leg, making him scream in pain.

“NAME, GRAHAM, I WON’T ASK AGAIN.”

Graham remains quiet and Eyomond lunges with the knife again, but this time, it is flicked away by a floating sword that zips out of the darkness in a flash.

“If you’re done playing with your food, Eyomund, some of us would actually like to make some progress here and you’re wasting my time.”

A figure steps out of the shadows of the room, her long purple hair nearly grazing the dirty floor, an ornate cup of a steaming drink in her hand. She waves her other hand and the overly long sword pushes against Eyomund, sending him and his chair skidding backward and out of the way, making him give an indignant grunt. She gracefully sits down on a chair that forms out of smoke under her and calmly crosses one long booted leg over the other. She reaches over and removes a black glove and hovers her hand over where Graham was stabbed and black smoke pours out and into the wound, causing it to heal and close.

“If Eyomund wasn’t so well connected and good at covering his tracks, he’d be on the next prison barge out of here instead of threatening you with fruit. Some of us have standards. I actually admire you for not wanting to turn your fellow House staff member in to be at the mercy, or lack thereof, of Eyomund Lamplighter himself, despite them bashing you in the back of the head. Loyalty is rare in this world because it usually gets you hurt or killed. However, its your lucky day. Now, I can ensure you get out of here safely and even give you and your family special passes to get off Zol and go to one of the other Cursed Shards, you see this emblem? You know what this means, right? That I have the power to do as I say.  I just need you to answer one question for me.”

She pulls out a wanted poster and holds it up.

“Where do you think I could find Kel Aster?”

 Kel Aster and the Ace

Kel Aster hangs upside down, swinging back and forth and spinning slightly - his smug grin perpetually on his face, regardless of the situation.

“Oh come on, Spades, it was just a bit of fun. You know how much I love and respect you.”

WHAM - Kel’s swinging and spinning increases.

“*gasp* Fine, fine fine, just the respect part then. No need to get touchy about it. It’s fine if you don’t say it back, I can live with a broken heart.”

A man with a full face mask with a large ace of spades emblazoned onto it leans down to Kel’s face and stops his movement with a large bat.

“Oh I doubt that, though I’m willing to have a go if you are. Heart, legs, spleen, as long as I get to break some part of you. Never let it be said that the Ace of Spades isn’t flexible.”

He picks up his bat and gives Kel another whack with it.

“You know, Spades, just because I’m sweet on the inside, hitting me harder isn’t going to make candy come out.”

The Ace just shrugs and gives another swing.

“Maybe I’m just helping you unlock your dormant awakened candy powers.”

Kel laughs. “I’m a Zolian just like you, our awakened powers are about as far from candy as you can get. Now if you would stop hitting me for long enough for me to be able to speak, I do actually have important information to share with you.”

The Ace sighs loudly and stops Kel’s swinging with the bat again.

“You know that other crew you brought on for that big job coming up? Well, apparently someone ratted them out and the EV’s picked them up yesterday.”

The Ace of Spades begins to curse violently and accentuate his swears with impacts to Kel’s torso with the bat.

“Spade! Stop hitting me! It wasn’t me!”

The Ace looks down at Kel like he didn’t even realize who he had been hitting.

“Oh flux, sorry Kel. You know how I can get sometimes, my mum always said I needed to find a positive stress outlet. Hey Lenny, bring Kel a stool and a drink will ya?”

An Enforcer rushes over and cuts Kel down and sits him on a stool and puts a steaming mug in his hands that’s swirling with red and white froth and has a full stick of cinnamon in it. Kel and the Ace both pause and look down into the drink, confused.

“What the actual flux is that, Lenny? I said get him a proper drink!”

The Enforcer looks down awkwardly.

“Uh, its called a Spicy Candy Cane Surprise…sir.”

Kel just looks at the mug and smiles to himself and takes a sip.

“Damn, that’s good. Spades, you want a sip?”

Spades gives him a flat look and ignores the question. Kel shrugs and continues.

“I do bring good news to go with the bad though, Spades. I’ve found you a replacement crew and they come highly recommended. Plus, they’re untraceable. No real names, no known faces.”

The Ace gives a big, hearty laugh and slaps Kel on the back, spilling some of the drink.

“I can always count on you, eh Kel? The Jack may think you’re a worthless steaming pile of washed up filth, but I always knew that wasn’t you.”

Kel pauses. “I’m sorry, he said what now?”

“Naw, nothing. Hey Kel, just one more thing before I hogtie you and toss you outside so the boys don’t get the wrong idea..can I get a sip of that drink?”

Tandrew McGrunderson's Violet Angel

Tandrew McGrunderson was having a very strange day - and not just because his voidtouched mother named him Tandrew either. No, on this particular day, he had been feeling the shame of failing his Enforcers test to join The Gamble the day before and on his way to the store had decided to ride in the back car. He did this not because it was more comfortable, because it definitely was not, but in order to avoid running into any of his friends and potentially getting relentlessly bullied as being the only one who didn’t make the cut. While in the storage car of the skaraab tram, he began to do what he did do best - he began to muck about. Prying open crates and bins, he rummaged about to see if there might be anything interesting, even though he knew anything of real value wouldn’t be transported via tram of all things. He managed to find an assortment of items to keep his attention, most notably a bottle of some really low grade booze, which he began to consume in copious amounts. Voidtouched Gamble, Voidtouched Shard, Voidtouched mother who named him Tandrew. 

It was in this curse spewing stupor that he suddenly began to get tossed about and smack against various bins and crates, one of them falling and pinning him in place. In the midst of the tumbling, he heard a crash that somehow managed to travel about the other crashing sounds. He then began to tumble ass over tea kettle backwards towards the back of the tram car. Well this just figured, a fitting way for the illustrious tale of Tandrew the Nobody to end - eating probable literal shit as he cracked his skull into a wall falling out of what was universally regarded as the safest form of public transportation on Zol.  He closed his eyes and just waited for it all to be over to he could at the very least haunt his miserable excuses for friends for the prescribed number of Zolian days - though with his luck, he would probably get his soul stuck powering some newfangled toilet in some snobby Awakened house where he had to sing when they shit or something. 

He suddenly stopped tumbling as a pair of strong arms caught him and brought him to a somewhat gentle stop. He opened his eyes and he knew with absolute certainty that he was in love. A woman with more color than half of Crypt Market combined was holding him pressed against her chest in her extremely strong arms, hair blowing majestically in the wind, somehow smelling like sunshine. He tried to say something clever, profound, interesting, or at the very least not creepy sounding…but what came out of his mouth was a series of horrifying slurred bits of nonsense. She put him down and left him standing there, stunned, as she sprinted away. He called after her that he would buy her some flowers and went to do just that as she went off to do whatever it was that angels did when they weren’t holding him in their arms. It took awhile to find a non-poisonous or carnivorous plant, especially with BeaVee’s closed for the afternoon and when he returned, there was no sign of her. He gave a deep sigh and picked up his duster board and walked down the street, leaving the flowers in a vase with a note on a nearby table that said “For my violet angel”. 

Well, time to go do something incredibly reckless.

Kel Steals a Ship

Kel Aster watched through his rifle scope from a rooftop as his four most recent crew members disappeared into a warehouse on the docks after getting searched by the muscle stationed at the front. He glanced up at the face of the large tower clock a few blocks away. It was time. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and took a long look out at the Shard of Zol. Today was his last day being stuck here on this prison, one way or another.

He made his way across the dock district to where various Wayfarers were moored and considered his options and watched patrols and traffic flow as he listened in on the conversation happening via soul stone connection. As he scanned the various ships, trying to determine which would be the best to steal on short notice and could be at least temporarily manned by one person, his eye caught a specific one and he smiled to himself. The Eminator, or at least that’s what the name across the side read, but he knew his ship the Dustbound anywhere. Blessed woman had kept it after all and not dismantled her piece by piece like she said she would. Though she was looking quite a bit different with various modifications and such. He watched as Ranger Izumi left the ship and spoke to the harbor master about something before heading off down the street. Oh, this was going to be very entertaining.

A Stowaway

Hardlight canonballs explode around, sending showers of wood shrapnel flying through the air.

The ground shakes with the reverberations of return fire and Karami and ensouled enemies flood the deck.

And then he hears it: the music and it calls to him. Not as directly as it did the others, but oh it still calls to him and he can feel himself changing, becoming more.

Tingling with inspiration and energy and unsure if he will injure himself or others, he hides in the lower deck of the ship amid the chaos.

He feels a gut dropping impact and boost of speed followed by the distinct tingling feeling of entering the Drift that he has never experienced as Zolians are forbidden from inter-Expanse travel.

Peaking out of the door to the top deck, he tentatively sets foot back topside to see an eire, bizarre vortex of color and matter all around.

Sweating profusely and stumbling, Tandrew McGrunderson takes a deep breath, turns an unnatural shade of green, and then hurls over the railing.

Me Without You

Ranger Izumi sits alone in the darkness of the void - black tendrils of smoke swirling around her. Her legs pulled up close to her chest, sword forgotten on the inky black surface of the ground. Over her head she holds a gun - Kel’s gun, that somehow got brought with her when her shadows yanked her to safety here. She spins the chamber over and over again, listening to the sound as she stares ahead as if trying to pierce the eternal darkness. Her eyes red from crying, she suddenly screams and fires the gun over and over again into the darkness before throwing it as hard as she can, only to have it return to her hand in this strange shadow dimension.

Head bowed, something unexpected wells up inside of her.

 "Once upon a time,

 It was just you and I,

 Chasing the dreams of our hearts,

 Promising never to be apart.

But then I lost myself,

 Put our story on the highest shelf.

 I thought I needed something new…

 But what I really needed was you.

 And now this time it's you who left,

 Leaving nothing—only death.

 You half-wit, void-touched, wonderful man!

 I’ve got no dream, no compass, no damn plan!

 What the hell am I supposed to do?

Now I've lost not one dream, but two

I told you it would end this way

And you'd just say "I love you, Mei"

Well what good are all your dreams

Now I'm just tears and screams

Well I hope those who enabled you

Get torn a hole or three anew

so I'll hunt them to the sunset sky

And until that day I'll wait to cry

 You half-wit, void-touched, wonderful man!

 I’ve got no dream, no compass, no damn plan!

 What the hell am I supposed to do?

Now that it’s just me without you."

She takes a deep breath and stands up, holstering the gun. She holds her hand out and her sword leaps into it and she looks down at it.

“Well Nyx, my friend, I think we have our next target to hunt…”

Interludes

Valero the Golden Comet

During the night, Loch, you have the strangest dream. You see the day before where you faced off with Valero, but from a different perspective. You see a leaf from the Drift Tree blow off a branch and float through the air for a while before eventually landing on Valero’s hand, a splash of light ripples across his skin without him noticing and a faint ding is heard. The leaf falls to the deck of his ship and rests there where it gets battered around by people coming and going the rest of the day.

Later that night, you see Valero sitting with his crew of wide eyed followers and you watch as he recants the Eryatsun once again, but this time it feels a bit...different.

"Clothes enshrined in wonders of gold, a one-of-a-kind suit laid out fine ...

Suddenly now missing, taken by the hands of a rapscallion.

Will he manage to triumph and be wed to his paramour?

Our aggressively attractive pilgrim sets out on Jeff; to the skies he soars,

To the scoundrel's lair above the clouds, stealthy as the night, he claims his prize.

In the roaring heat, unprotected from the sun, the flowers have now met their demise.

On the hunt for Pherus’ favorite, he must replace the coveted blue sunflowers.

From her garden he gathers more, saving the day at the eleventh hour.

Heart and more alight with desire, he begins his walk down the wedding aisle.

But disaster strikes! The Karami Anima is gorging on the wedding pie pile.

Sweets are the key to her heart ... she won’t continue without dessert.

Valero takes a flying pie from the Juggler to stop her hurt.

Pie in one hand, hers in the other, he walks them down the aisle to wed his angel.

Eloise, astride a dragon, objects... [angry]“How shameful!”

The spell is broken. Pherus dumps him, and the sisters abscond.

Upon stallion white he gives chase to seal their bond.

Two becomes three, a marriage in the sky built on lust.

Or at least... that's how I wish the story had ended.

So I’ll set out again to challenge more ... until my pride is mended."

You all awaken to the smell of freshly baked pastries. Pherus, you notice that on your ring finger is a diamond engagement ring that wasn’t there the day before. Eloise, on the deck of the ship you see the saddle for a very large animal haphazardly left behind as well as some large claw marks on the deck of the ship.

Chapter 2

Ayra Majon Introduction

Yl’mani Salar’an looks at herself in the mirror as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup (a splash of gold on her midnight skin), but as she does so, her hand shakes and she pauses and takes a deep breath, shaking her hands out and hopping up and down slightly before standing up tall and confident.

“You got this….you’ve GOT this…just breathe. I’m sure he feels the same way, just tell him.”

She deflates and puts the brush down and rests her forehead on the mirror.

“Or you will freak him out and he will never talk to you again because you’re an unmitigated disaster. You will never speak to another ensouled again and will die alone. No, stop, don’t be ridiculous, it is far more likely you will be so nervous you don’t see where you’re walking and fall into a hole….okay, okay, you got this, girl…you got this…”

She looks intently into the mirror.

“Teq, I think you’re amazing and wonderful and I still have the jacket you loaned me a year ago and told you I lost, but I didn’t, and you make my knees weak and I think I love you and….ughhhh I’m doomed. Absolutely doomed.”

She sighs and walks over to the window and looks out into the city. It was still very early and the bronze light of the mother moon was still in the sky. She pinches her fingers together and pull them apart to reveal a butterfly of light that lifts off her hand and flutters out the window and into the open air. It continues to fly up and away from the small room of the Or’ven temple with its elaborate metalwork spires and stained glass windows. Steam shoots from vents in the ground and buffets it around before it passes by a window of a humble apartment where a crimson skinned man is getting his daughter ready for school and taking a breathing apparatus off a wall hanger and putting it on her before putting a backpack on her, giving her a hug and a fruit for the road and she heads out the door, skipping as she goes. She makes it about half a block before she bends over, hands on her knees as she struggles to breath and has a nasty cough attack. The butterfly lands on her shoe and she reaches down and scoops it up with a finger and watches it take off again. 

We travel up, up up into the sky from the industrial housing on the ground to the marbled finery of the sky where a middle aged couple is heatedly arguing about something as their teenage son looks on, frozen with a spoon halfway to his mouth. 

Him: “What else do you want me to say, T’hala? That I’m sorry? I’ve already said that!”

Her: “Well then say it again and keep saying it until you mean it! My father warned me about you, said I was making a mistake, but would I listen? Oh noooo of course not!

Him: “Oh please! That was 20 years ago and your father was a gambling idiot who drank himself to death and I’m glad he’s finally gone!”

The woman, with rich deep purple skin and stark white hair has darkness crackling around her like inverse stars and she throws her cup of coffee at the man, who ducks, and then she is forcing him out the front door and she closes and locks it behind him. He turns around as if to go back inside, but then thinks better of it. They both slink to the bottom of the door with their backs against it on either side. She gives a deep sigh.

“It’s going to be one of those days…Unbatu, finish your breakfast, you’re going to be late. Master Yondar will have you scrubbing the toilets again!”

The boy looks down at his food and begins to quickly eat and gather his things.

The orange moon in the sky is slowly replaced by a blue one - sunlight bouncing off its reflective surface and illuminating the shard in a blue dawn as the first thumps of the drum begin to sound and the whole Shard begins to resonate to its rhythms.

And Pherus, you awaken from a truly vivid dream.

The Archon's Announcement Headline

Breaking news: As if the morning’s terrorist attack in the Sky wasn’t enough, there appears to have been some sort of disturbance on the Ground that has caused mass unconsciousness. We go now to a statement from Archon Vay’lan Sey’ol of the Or’ven Conclave.

"Blessings upon you all on this day in this time of crisis.  I want to assure you that the Araymaji Council is investigating the matter with the utmost urgency. The specific cause of this event is still being determined and so we do not wish to rule out anything as of yet, whether that be sabotage, accident, or divine act of punishment against the Grounders for harboring and supporting the terrorist group that plagues the hard working people that do the great work of the Mother, Sister, and Daughter. I ask for everyone’s full cooperation in this matter and to join your local temple for a time of communal prayer in one hour’s time. I also call upon all of those of the First Dawn to help and support all those of the Second that have been affected by this event. In order, divinity. In discovery, glory."

Tandrew's Songwriting

Tandrew McGrunderson watches Pherus leave to undoubtedly go on yet another exciting adventure with the rest of the crew without him. His least favorite crew member shoves a mop into his hands and he sighs and gets to work cleaning the char and ash off the deck of the ship. When nobody else is looking, he takes off his pack and pulls something out - something neon green and gooey. He looks at it critically and considers for a moment. He rummages through his pack and pulls out a discarded sewing and decorations kit Pherus left behind and attaches two large googly eyes to the, well, goo. The goo bobs up and down squishily, almost happily. He hands the googly goo a small mop, points, and gives a direction to clean. The goo begins to get to work scrubbing the deck and Tandrew smiles to himself and heads below deck to the base of the drift tree where he pulls out a pen and paper and a guitar and begins to workshop some ideas.

"Walkin this path still crooked and long,

 But now I’m gonna claim me a place I belong.

 Now I’m sailin’ through the ever-widenin’ span,

 Not just a lost boy, but the makings of a man.

…I don’t know, something kind of like that?"

The tree thrums with approval.

Heeeey man, that’s pretty groovy. You been holdin out on us. Here though, try it more like this…

And the tree begins to set down a different beat.

A Lost Ranger

Ranger Mei Izumi paces back and forth irritably in the waiting room of the Hall of Documents and Records of the Yggdrasillian government, holding a ticket numbered 700,328 in her hand, all crumpled up and misshaped from being turned into all manner of design during her waiting. Ten days. TEN. She trained with the Brihnar Monks, hunted a serial killer for 3 straight months, and did a stake out of a slab of rock in the deserts of Pengolyn for two weeks with nothing but cacti to keep her company, but this…oh this was torture. The bureaucracy and slowness of the Yggdrasillian government was legendary, but even the tales didn’t do it justice. It took her six hours just to be allowed to exit her wayfarer and that should have been an indication for the time she was about to have. The ticker on the wall shifts and a chime rings out. Before the administrator at the window can say the number, she’s already standing there.

“Well? Did you find record of the ship or not? I’ve already submitted the 14 separate forms required and yes, I had them notarized by the Office of Statistics and yes, I have brought with me my ambassador this time.”

She motions over to a Yggdrasillian crossing the room with the speed of a snail. Given the tree-like nature of the people, it was no wonder they moved so slowly, but dust in my sails its 20ft, get over here!

The administrator at the window slowly smiles and picks up a stamp and slowly stamps and envelope and passes it to her under the glass.

She takes it and tears it open and unfolds the single piece of paper enclosed within. Its blank. She stares at it numbly for several seconds before turning it around and inspecting it.

“Excuse me, sir, I think you made a mistake, this is a blank piece of paper”

“No…..no mistake….no records exist…have a…sunny day…Ranger”

She begins to vibrate with rage before taking a deep breath and falling backward into shadow where she emits a guttural primal scream of frustration into the darkness.

“WHERE. THE. VOID. ARE. YOU”

Next to her, her freakishly long sword slowly turns to her, dark smoke billowing out of it, an eye opening on the pummel.

“You know what this means don’t you? You have to go see…her…”

She just glares at the sword, picks it up, and steps back into the light.

Gilirand Blabberfoot's Jeli'kora Encounter

Gilarand Blabberfoot…Through starlight and dust you fall until you are no longer falling, not because you have reached a destination, but because you never will. You exist outside of space and time, a place between places. Something primordial. All around you see spectral forms gathering around the tram car - waiting - watching. You turn to see one inches from your face, its glowing points of eyes looking at you intently as it clearly struggles with something, its face contorting, warping. It takes your head in its hands, a cold electric feeling shooting into you and it speaks, its words taking tremendous effort.

?The Heart begins to strain and break

Eyes forced closed must now to wake

The Face before you reveals verity

Traitorous Hands stained with divine clarity

Unwilling Spirits will answer the call

If, Oh Locked Heart, you don’t stop their fall

Doom, Doom will come for them all"

It then tilts its head to the side inquisitive and reaches down to your belt and picks up Kel’s compass that you’ve been experimenting with and studying lately. The strange compass has tiny numbers 1-1000 listed around the outside ring with a needle that previously was pointed to 0, but now points to 299 and that same number is now locked into the first in a series of 5 readouts on the back with the remaining 4 remaining at 000. Above these numbers is an etched plate label that says “Index”. Next to each of the number readouts is a piece of white tape, as if it is where someone might write a label to something. The first one appears to have multiple pieces of tape placed and removed or taped over with blots of ink smeared slightly around the edges, but no discernable words and they are all blank. An inscription on the side of the compass appears as though revealed through stardust and reads “The only thing faster than light is love. May our hearts travel together to the heart of the Expanse”. 

The creature moves its finger over the first piece of tape next to the 299 and writes something there: “Ayra Majon” and then it puts the compass back and nods to you before floating away.

Keth'ora Station Flashback

347 Years ago. The Shard of Ayra Majon.

Ta’shan Ba’liri looked up from his very important work of mopping the floor of Keth’ora Station, the recently completed pride and joy of the Aryamaji people. On the walkways above, all manner of dustologists, driftologists, harmonologists, and other classifications of inventors and scientists he couldn’t pronounce scrambled around like a hornets nest that had been kicked up. The air was positively electric today. He looked up at the large count down timer on a floating platform above that he had long since begun to ignore and realized that the number was at 0. He wandered over to the control center, nobody paying him any mind as he leaned against a wall and took in the view. The severed head of a strange massive ensouled sat in the center of the room, cables and tubes all running into it and out in a massive network towards the outer shell of the room where 100 of the finest Driftweavers all sat in a circle, instruments in hands, but no Scores in front of them. Cables ran to each of the instruments and sparks and dust occasionally shot off of them. A door opened and Master Rhythmbringer Syn’ian Yhondar strode in, a gorgeous black drum in her hands, holding it like a holy relic. So the rumors were true then, after all. They did find it down there, all the way at the center of the Shard.

Ta’shan watched with interest as hundreds of the Shard’s most brilliant assembled at their respective stations, all controlling or monitoring one thing or another. The Master reached the center of the room and sat calmly in a chair waiting for her, positioned just a few feet from the strange head, and attached a cable and tube set to her own drum. She then began to call out to each department in kind:

“Aptitude?”

“Check”

“Alignment?”

“Check”

“Harmonics Stabilization?”

“Check”

“Essence Transference?”

“Check”

“We are all green across the board, Master Rhythmbringer. Upon your lead. All crew and staff, brace for impact. Commencing test 127”

A loud alert sounded throughout the entire facility and everyone not on the command deck stopped moving. Ta’shan’s boots hummed and clicked and he felt his feet anchor to the floor as beams shot out from the floor for him to hold onto and his helmet automatically sealed. 

Ugh, here we go again. Another waste of time test only so brilliant in how much it wasted so much time and resources to pull off. Still, though, it was somehow always fascinating to watch.

The Master at the center of the room held up a hand and the room silenced. She took a deep breath and activated something on her chest and then something on her drum and the rest of the musicians did the same. Then, she closed her eyes and hit the drum. Then again. Then again. It didn’t sound particularly musical. Then she paused, tilted her head as if hearing something and began to play. Actually, play. The rest of the musicians followed suit and also began to play as well and… dust in my sail, it was actual void-touched music. It was so shocking to Ta’shan that it took him a few moments to notice that he felt like he was floating, but he was still anchored to the ground. He felt something tugging on him, pulling him up and towards the music, a music that was becoming all consuming. The station vibrated and shook, items not locked down flying free and tumbling around. The music got louder and louder and he looked down and saw a crack appear on the floor and it snaked all the way across the station. He looked around at the command deck and everyone was transfixed. No, not just transfixed, static. Two of the scientists in the back and mostly out of sight suddenly exploded in a colorful wave of particles that froze in the air and then started arcing in towards the head at the center of the room.

They didn’t know. He had to tell them, stop them. He frantically tried to unlatch his boots from the floor and he just managed to do so when a sound like no other filled the space. The eyes on the head opened, glowing galaxies in their skull. Its mouth made a noise that shook his bones, his muscles, his very soul. A sound like a man screaming as he is torn in two, but if that man were a whole Shard. What have we done? What have we done! He managed to get his feet free and he took one giant step towards the emergency power shut off switch and the person next to him exploded in a shower of light and color. He felt a thumping in his head, a paralysis gripping his bones and he leapt at the large switch and yanked down…hard…and then everything exploded, or more accurately, everything to ether dust and was gone. He was gone. In its place, only darkness and deathly, eternal silence.

The Love and Rage Specialist

Ranger Mei Izumi hesitates in front of the short walkway up to the door of a small cottage in the woods on the Shard of Veilruun. All manner of karami anima of small woodland creatures wander the yard out front, a chaotic amount of plants hang from every window sill, and colorful paint adorns the whole area with deep, rich colors that catch the light in unnatural ways that are a bit dizzying to look at. A large, painted wooden mailbox carved in a wolf head out of a huge log stand in the front with a sign next to it that says: Nys’ara Le Vélour - Path Painter III, Love and Rage Specialist. Walk-Ins Welcome.

Izumi’s overly long sword hovers next to her, smoke pouring out from it and dissipating in the air.

Nyx: “Now, I know how you get, so the safe word is ‘coconut’. Just say the word and I will cut the whole place in two and you can make your getaway”

Mei sighs and takes a deep breath. “I appreciate it, Nyx, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I mean, she can’t STILL be mad…right?”

She walks up and knocks on the door and reaches down and unzips her tall boots and puts them by the door, stepping out of them dropping her down in height considerably.

The door opens and an unacceptably cute young woman with long flowing white hair with a giant blue bow in it appears - her long puffy tail swishing behind her. Izumi stands there awkwardly for a few long seconds staring at her, immediately lost in her huge sapphire eyes that light up with happiness. A smear of paint is under one cheek and Mei immediately moves to gently wipe it off, but then stops herself.

Oh uh. Mistakes have been made.

“Coco-”

She doesn’t get to finish as Nys’ara lets out a squeal and leaps at her and tackles her to the ground in a huge hug.

“Mei oh mine, I knew it! I knew you would come back to me one day! My mother said I was a hopeless romantic, but I knew you would!”

She buries her face in Mei’s jacket in an overly aggressive snuggle, causing Mei’s necklace to come loose with her rings on it. Nys’ara lets out a gasp and sits up, holding them.

“ But what is this???!! A wedding ring?! You bitch! *she starts hitting Mei in the chest* It better not have been that pirate man, Kelp, the one you were always chasing that whatever it was with!”

She crosses her arms over her chest and gets all huffy now, not noticing her sliding off as Mei manages to extricate herself very carefully.

“Nys’ara, it’s been 15 years…how did you possibly think I was coming back for you? We weren’t even together in the first place!”

At this, Nys’ara bolts up and slaps her in the face before walking past her and inside her house, her tail also slapping Mei in the face on her way past.

“How DARE you say something like that to me? Like I was nothing to you! When we both know how far from the truth that is! Ruunin bond for life, you knew what you were getting into!”

“Yes, fine, you’re right, IM SORRY, OKAY? Im sorry I left without telling you, but you weren’t exactly good at listening to me! *Mei sighs* “Well it doesn’t matter now anyway. Kel’s gone, Nyssy…”

“Good!”

Mei visibly flinches at this and Nys’ara stops.

“Wait, you mean like…gone, gone?”

Mei nods and walks in and sits down at the center table, canvas paintings and art supplies littering the space. She looks up at the wall across from her where a large bow rests on the mantle and then she looks a bit to the side and sees an uncomfortably large painting of her, Nys’ara, and Kel with Nys’ara very clingy wrapping her arms possessively around Mei. She scooches in her chair to face a different direction.

“That’s actually why I’m here. I need your help Nyssy. You’re the best Fatewright I know, plus as a Path Painter you can do things…differently than others. *she motions at the paint supplies around her* You don’t have to go into my head. ”

Nys’ara takes a deep breath to calm herself and sits down at the table and takes Mei’s hands in hers.

“Mei oh mine, you know I would do literally anything for you. *deep breath* So who are we hunting?”

Typhone Returns Home

Still feeling weak from his time in the nullfield, Typhon Maller silently produces paperwork for the tram guard and rides it down to the Ground. He manages to stumble home, the Sister moon now high in the sky. 

Typhon

“Cold. Searing cold. I did not know that Hardlight could feel so cold, it burned… but beyond that, it feels like my inside has been hollowed out. The nullfield.. such.. emptiness. But no matter now, Aerith..

I hope you’re still home.. 

Thank the blessed Three, the Ossofer’s took her home before that tram ride… 

Oh, just to see you and hold you, even for just a moment, my sweet girl.. 

You’ll be alright; I’ll make sure of it. 

Now that I know that the anchor works. 

The Blessed Moons, it works. Now, we have a chance.”

He goes to open the front door, but it opens ahead of him, Yl’mani standing in the doorway, her face grim. She gives a respectful bow.

Yl’Mani

“Di-vine Laborer Maller…Typhon…It’s been a weird day. The Archon came to visit Aerith? Any a ways, we need to talk…it’s about…Aerith…”

She quietly closes the door behind her and sits down on the front step.

Typhon

Yl’mani.. What about Aerith?

Yl’mani

“Is no secret that Aerith has been sick for a long time now, but I did not understand how bad it was until today. I am just an Initiate, but she does not respond to my healing at all. I did some tests. Is bad…Typhon. *deep breath* she has Ether Sickness. You know there’s  no coming back from that…”

Typhon

"I.. I know. "

The two of them just sit in silence for a few moments.

Yl’mani

Y…you do? How long have you known? Does she know?

Typhon

"For a long time now. Her lungs were frail since birth. Then she started walking, her skin began to change. I panicked and tried to keep her inside, away from everything, as best I could, but soon.. she wanted to run, and play, and have friends, and marvel at the shimmering light of the glorious moons.. You know.. to live.. a normal life? That’s when I made her her mask with an alloy made of fortified Aerithite and Velyssar, and found her a friend in a Zephyral, so she could live a normal life, a life she deserves.

And no, she does not know."

Yl’mani

"You have to tell her. I can not give you an exact amount, but she does not have much time left. You cannot protect her from the truth any longer. There’s nothing you can do to stop this…"

Typhon

"Yes, there is!

I have.. I CAN do something. I will. soon.. Then she won’t just survive; 

she will live the life she deserves. 

Whatever it takes and no matter the cost, I will make sure of it."

Yl’mani

"You are not a god, Typhon. It is not up to you to control life and death, all you can do is the best you can with the time you have."

Typhon

"With all due respect to you and the rotten Conclave that you worship, it is ONLY up to me. No one else can tell us how we must live and when we must die; 

And by the grace of Mother and the power of Three Moons, WE shall live.

Now, please leave us. we’re running out of time. I need to see my daughter."

Kel and the Shattering of Zol

30 Years ago. The Shard of Zol.

Kellerand Aster sat on one of the many pressurized shipping pods, his short 8-year-old legs swinging off the side, as he watched his older brother Caderen working on fixing one of many of the broken ones in the small warehouse / workshop while also reading a small, old book.

Kel

“...and they say the Arcanium Symphonic forged by the old god Thraxian before the departure of the gods are still out there somewhere in the Expanse, just waiting to be found and played again…ugh are you even listening to me, Cade?”

Caderen slides out from under the pod and picks up a tool.

Caderen

“Hey, I didn’t force you to skip school today, that’s on you, bud. You should just be happy I don’t tell mom. Look, if you want things to go faster, then you could at least pretend to help.”

Kel dramatically flops onto his back.

Kel

“If I wanted to do work, I’d have stayed at school. I just want to be out there, you know?”

He motions to the open bay door and out into the stars of the Expanse.

“The wind at my back, the open sky in front of me…”

Caderen looks at him flatly.

Caderen

“You know there’s no wind in space, right? The sails are for catching dust, not air.”

Kel throws a crumpled ball of paper at him and then everything begins to vibrate under foot. Tools begin to slide off counters and one falls on Caderen’s leg and he lets out a yelp and comes out as if Kel threw something at him, but then he stops and looks out the door and peers across the open Expanse at the far end of the curved warehouse district where other bay’s reside.

Kel

“Hey Cade…what’s that?”

Kel points to the edge of the waterway where it falls off and curves around the bottom of the Shard- basically the edge of the protective bubble that incircles the Shard and keeps the water and the air in. It is rippling and shimmering and is actually visible, which isn’t something that happens. Then a spider web crack appears on a part of it and it begins to spread. A loud rumbling sound starts to increase in volume and across the waterway, they watch as a giant crack appears between two of the bay’s, a fissure forming. Alarms begin to go off everywhere and the two stand there, open mouthed, staring at the quickly expanding crack in the invisible barrier that nobody really even remembers is there most of the time.

Caderen snaps out of the fog and runs over to the pod he was working on and quickly makes some adjustments and fixes to it and then punches the lock button to open it and grabs a leftover duster helmet and throws it in.

Caderen

“Kel….Kel….KEL”

Kel is frozen in place and Cadren runs over and grabs him. Violent tearing sounds erupt all around them and they see giant cracks appearing along the floor and ceiling. Caderen throws Kel into the pod and hesitates for a moment, realizing it only fits one and then makes his decision and smacks the lock button. Kel puts his hands on the inner window of the pod, breathing heavy and clearly panicking.

Caderen

“Don’t worry, Kel, I got you. You’re going to be….”

The barrier shatters and everything tears apart and is sucked in the direction of space. Kel’s pod is sent spinning end over end into the open Expanse and he just manages to put the helmet on before blacking out.

Hours later, he awakens to the sound of an earthshattering chord being played. He looks out of his window and sees a gargantuan figure the size of a skyscraper made of particles of light directly in front of him, reaching a hand out and one finger seeming to come in contact with his pod. A woman’s face with long, multicolored hair is in front of him and he swears is looking right at him. And then like a concussive force on his soul, the music hits him:

The Seraph

"To the Lover, the Fighter, the Queen, the Writer

Bring me your broken dreams, let them ignite you…."

Valero Refuses to be Left Out of the Story

Valero the Golden Comet tumbles to the floor, his immaculate, glowing and flowing hair still somehow managing to remain immaculate.

Valero (singing)

“I dared to dream a dream with you

You cannot blame a man whose heart is true (go up to a squeak)”

The point of a black sword presses against his neck, cutting him off.

Mei (singing)

“Men like you are all the same

No direction, no aim, no shame

No, I won’t play your stupid game”

Ranger Mei Izumi rubs her temple with one hand.

Mei

“Ugh no, no singing! This keeps happening to me and it's becoming increasingly irritating”

Nys’ara lays on the railing, one leg swinging down as she paints something in the air with a brush.

Nys’ara

“Don’t be so grumpy, Mei oh mine, I find it rather…alluring”

Mei

“Oh well then it definitely needs to stop, you’re already insufferable”

Valero reaches over and takes a long draft on a twisty straw in a fruity cocktail.

Valero

“Do you two need me to go, or…

Mei plucks his straw away.

Mei

“Valero…”

She looks down at his ID.

Mei

“Wait, your middle name is literally Golden and your last name is Com’i’et?

Valero

“I’m sorry, did you not hear my earlier song? *deep breath in* I’m Valero the Golden Comet! I…

Mei puts a boot on his chest.

Mei

“Valero Com’i’et, you are under arrest for twelve counts of kidnapping, one hundred and seventeen counts of grand larceny, two counts of naval grand theft, six counts of impersonating a deity…”

Nys’ara

“ and the operation of a relic of reality shaping without a license.”

Nys’ara flits over and reaches down and grabs him by the lush, flowing rainbow hair and gives a hefty yank and the hair comes off in her hands, revealing it was just a wig. Underneath is a mess of curly brown hair with bleached tips.

Valero

“*gasps* You monster, you would even take a man’s hair! Why I…ughhhhh. I haven’t met a pair of women who could resist me since those damn sisters…oh such wonderful sisters…”

Mei

“Yeah, sure buddy, I’m sure they were great.”

Valero

“My Pherus and Eloise who brought me the voice to sing…”

Mei pauses and looks over at Nys’ara who blows a kiss and gives a wink.

Nys’ara

“Told you…my brushstrokes never lie”

Mei

“Damn, you’re good…*turning to Valero* so how would you like to not go to prison for the rest of your life?…”

Mei: The Knife of Kuroshiro

The Shard of Katsugawa

23 years ago

With nearly silent strokes, two enforcers fall to the ground - dead.

A figure creeps through the shadows, stealthily moving across a hallway on the 118th floor of Hashiro Enterprises.

That makes 106 now and not one alarm sounding. Father will be proud of that fact, and on her mission of initiation into the upper echelon of the clan too. Even moreso after the disposal of her target, Harashan Hashiro himself at the top floor of the enormous building.

Mei-Ryn Izumi takes a moment to control her breathing and looks out upon the neon lit high rise cityscape of Kuroshiro, a duster with a giant glowing sign for a noodle company lazily drifting by in the sky. She sees her reflection in the glass and adjusts a loose strand of hair. Clan Izumi demands the utmost perfection at all times, after all. It couldn’t get out that a sloppy looking assassin took down such a target. Not that there would be anyone to tell that story anyway.

The mission father gave her was truly honorable because this one was personal. She was sent to eliminate her mother’s killer. Today Clan Hashiro would fall for its treachery.

As she is about to move on to the final floor, she takes a step forward and freezes, a sudden pulsating pounding in her head and chest all at once, followed by a pulling on her mind. She looks over at a door slightly ajar and opens it and looks inside. There she sees a glorious trophy room filled with all manner of ancient artifacts and, most importantly, relics. In the center inside a glass case and adorned with black satin lays a black sword. She feels inexplicably drawn to it. Was this what it was like to feel The Call? She had always heard about it, but never felt it for herself. To be chosen was a great honor.

Whisper quiet, she opens the case and reaches forward and grasps the sword with both hands.

Mei

“What secrets do you keep? What is your fate?”

Nyx

Oh, that’s easy, darling, I smite evil.”

Mei nearly drops the sword, looking on in horror as an eyeball emerges on the hilt of the sword and winks at her.

Nyx

“And you, my dear, look like someone who does a LOT of smiting. So tell me, what evil will we be smiting today, mmm?”

Mei smiles.

Mei

“Well, sword, you’re going to kill Harashan Hashiro, my mother’s murderer.”

Nyx

“Huzzah! It’s been so long! Tell me child, how old were you when you saw this horror happen?”

Mei hesitates.

Mei

“This was 11 years ago. I was six. But I wasn’t in the room, I came in afterward, which is why it took us so long to find out who was responsible. You talk too much for a sword…”

Nyx

“Oh I’ve been told, BELIEVE me. Why do you think I was on the pedestal? Well, let’s go smite some…wait, did you say 11 years ago? That’s not possible.

Mei

“What do you mean? Of course it is.

Nyx

“I was with Harashan Hashiro on Kalvera Prime for 2 years during that time. Oh what glorious a time that was!

Mei

“You must be mistaken, sword. We are going to kill this man now, best get on board.”

Nyx

“Tell me, who took over clan Izumi after your mother was slain?”

Mei

“My…father…”

Nyx

“And who sent you to kill Harashan Hashiro?”

Mei

“Also my father…(She blinks a few times, the gears turning) shit…shit shit shit shit. That bastard! I just killed all those people to get here too!”

And at that moment the alarm starts to go off and the sounds of many boots begin to be heard.

Mei looks around wildly for a clean exit.

Nyx

“Might I suggest a steaming cup of hot noodles?”

Mei

“What?? Ohhhh.”

She looks outside at the duster flying by with the noodle sign on it.

Mei

“Well, sword, I think its about time we got off this voidtouched Shard, but first, we have a quick stop to make…at home”

She throws the sword at the window, shattering it, and leaps out into the open air.

The Archon's Vision

The Shard of Ayra Majon

30 Years ago

Professor Vay’lan Sey’ol sits upright in bed with a start, sweat dripping from his body as he gasps for air. He orients himself back into his reality and looks around the room and out the open window into the night sky, a cool breeze drafting in. The clock by the bed reads 3:33 AM. He unwraps himself from his tangled sheets and gets up and begins to pace the room, hands on the back of his head as he takes deep calming breaths. He had had visions before, so this wasn’t exactly new in that regard - something to do with his split parentage and offworlder father he had never met - but this was different. Very, very different. Usually they would be focused around his own future or maybe that of someone close to him - something rather mundane like what they would order for lunch, though sometimes something more serious like an upcoming major accident. But nothing to this scale, nothing even coming close to reaching this level. His mind could barely even begin to understand what it all meant and what he was even supposed to do about it. He stopped pacing and looked over at the large blackboard on the wall with his mathematical calculations on probability and branching timelines he had spent his life’s work on so far trying to understand if fate existed and if so, if it was possible to change.

Okay, okay, he could do this. He just had to solve the question of inter-temporal extrapolation and destinic alteration…and all with enough time to then determine the best course of action to alter said timeline and execute it…no pressure. He wracked his brain trying to remember every detail of his vision, replaying it in his mind, searching…searching…come on, there had to be a calendar on a wall or a device somewhere to give him more of a concrete…aha, there it was…he took out some chalk and wrote a number on the board and circled it.

37 years. He had 37 years to change everything.

He grimaced in pain and dropped the chalk and massaged his ailing hand.

Okay, but first things first, he was going to need a few…upgrades…