Nighttime in the Whitefrost Mountains.

Lumnieve stood alone on the battlements of the Frost Palace. Despite the darkness, the ice of the palace caught and captured the moonlight, giving off an ephemeral fey-like glow.

“Anytime now...”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the dark clouds above the palace parted, and a pitch black castle descended. The stones were blended in with the night sky and was almost invisible to the naked eyes. When it stopped merely meters away from the Frost Palace, it seemed to vanish altogether. A figure appeared next to Lumnieve, as if walking out from the darkness of the night.

“Nenhym!” Lumnieve tackled the woman draped in a cloak resembling the night stars. “It’s been years!”

“You’re cold. Get off me Lumi.” Nenhym replied, but she spun Lumnieve around anyway. “The stars finally aligned enough for me to bring the Night Citadel here without attracting attention.”

“Pssh, you can stay here anyways. Who would dare mess with two of the last Great Spirits?” Lumnieve shrugged as she rubbed herself on Nenhym’s assets. Suddenly, she jerked back.

“They got bigger again.” Lumnieve accused.

“...It’s been a year and that’s the first thing you say to your dear friend?” Nenhym sighed. “How is Lin? I don’t sense the enchanter in the area.”

“Oh, he decided to leave. Can you believe him? Leaving me all alone here! But listen! There’s a human girl that posseses the frost element!”

“That’s nice Lumi.” Nenhym brushed her hair, frost forming at her fingers but quickly falling off.

“Oh, I also have some Blue Moon Cakes from Eir. I’ve been saving them for you! You’re definitely going to like them!”

“The Moon Princess enjoying moon cakes,” Nenhym nodded. “Poetic.”

“How are the others?” Lumnieve asked as she pulled on Nenhym’s hand, dragging her towards the Frost Palace. “It’s been several centuries since Raikun left for Ava Na Isla after that girl Alesta passed away.”

“Isolde’s alive and kicking, it seems she has been working on the nation of magical beasts in the Sel Forest.” Nenhym replied. “She gave me a few bottles of fruit wine she brewed that was meant to be given to you, as well as the seeds of certain plants that can grow in the cold.”

“Isolde’s like a mother hen, isn’t she?” Lumnieve laughed. “But I do love her all the same.”

“Klesk seemed to have left for Ava Na Isla. His poison was starting to affect those around him, and he decided it was his time.”

“Klesk huh? He was always too kind for his own good, I won’t ever understand how someone like that could end up being the Great Spirit of Poison.”

“I haven’t seen Voorim either, but he is probably still roaming and living amongst the humans using his shape-shifting abilities.”

“I see. So there’s only four of us left, huh? And it’s the few of us that don’t have one of the majority elements.” Lumnieve shook her head sadly.

Suddenly both Nenhym and Lumnieve felt a strange sensation, as if something was beckoning them, tugging on the very fabric of their souls. A tremor ran through the Frost Palace, and outside, the Night’s Citadel seemed to radiate obsidian light. And as abruptly as it had started, it ended.

Nenhym and Lumnieve looked at each other.

“It seems that you may be wrong Lumnieve.” Nenhym could not hide the excitement in her voice.

“So after all these years, Lin’s finally done it, has he?” Lumnieve couldn’t help but stare out a window towards the direction of the Justinia residence.

A cloaked knight watched as the Justinia Residence’s lights went out, and tossed a few more twigs into the small campfire, trying to chase away the night chill.

Sighing at the bitter cold, he took a swig of ale, hoping to comfort himself in the long night ahead. Ever since he was assigned by Knight-Captain Howard to keep watch over the residence, the days have been… long. He had never seen the fabled holder of the Rose Knight’s Crest once since his watch, and his only reprieve was tailing the Justinia girl and her acquaintance to the Knight Academy. He would take the time to have a large meal and buy supplies while they were at school. This mission was strictly off the books, so there was nobody to relieve his shift.

As he took another sip of ale, he sensed something wrong and his hand shot towards his sword, but not before he felt cold steel at his neck.

“Drop your weapon. What is your name?”

“...Farrel.” Farrel replied as he kicked away his sword. He figured if his assailant wanted him dead, then he had no chance anyway. Farrel was among one of the best trackers and infiltrators of the Harbinger Crows, and he had heard nothing as his attacker crept behind him. That alone made him feel vulnerable, and made him realize that he was severely outmatched.

“You have been watching the Justinia Manor for some time now, Sir Farrel. What is your purpose here?”

“I shan’t disclose the purpose of my mission.” Farrel declared defiantly, and the cold steel pressed deeper into his neck, sending droplets of blood trickling down his back. “Even if you kill me, I won’t speak a word!”

“Rest your blade, Lin, his intentions are good natured.” Farrel heard a feminine voice out behind him, and he had a brief moment of relief as the cold steel was removed from his neck. But that quickly shattered as he realized the person standing behind him was the Lin, the attacker that single-handedly destroyed the Templar Order’s former headquarters.

“It seems you’ve realized who I am.”

“Sir.” Farrel gave an awkward salute, still not quite sure about turning around. “I was assigned to watch over the Justinia girl and your disciple. Orders were from Priestess Geisla.” Farrel confessed, there was no point staying quiet and possibly making a dangerous enemy. That would counteract the entire point of keeping the ‘guest’ safe. “I’m sure former Knight-Captain Galvin is also aware of my presence.”

There was silence as Lin considered Farrel’s words.

“Hold out your hand.” Lin commanded, and Farrel complied, using both hands to form a platform. Farrel watched cautiously as a small vial was placed in his hands; it felt strangely warm to the touch.

“This is distilled essence of a Fire Blossom, add a drop of it to your drink and it will keep you warm throughout the night.” Lin murmured. “A drop onto wood would also cause a fire, in case you are in need of light to keep the Shadowless at bay.”

Before Farrel could respond, he heard footsteps walking away into the distance.

“Sir! If I may ask a question!” Farrel shouted.

The footsteps stopped.

“How long have you known I was keeping watch?” Farrel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“Ever since you first arrived, Sir Farrel.”

“Howard, report.”

“Yes, my lady. It is as you suspected. That man, Lin, has made appearances all over the books. They don’t particularly mention him by name but it can be inferred it is him.”

“Is he a danger?”

“There was one incident where he cut down a patrol, but after a bit of digging, the patrol was taking things from travelers.”

“I see. Are you convinced now, Howard?”

“...Yes, my lady. I am sorry to have doubted your judgment.”

“How are the mana batteries doing?”

“Still sealed under the Church, my lady. It is reaching capacity soon, we’ve looking into alternatives. Despite that man’s words, it seems he hasn’t touched them.”

“I pray that there comes a time when we don’t need to hide these weapons. But I fear that such a thing would never happen.”

“My lady?”

“Nothing, Howard. Carry on with the reports.”

“We’ve received word that Lin’s student, Yuelei, has moved up to rank sixty four. It seems she and Miss Cecilla has been dueling a lot.”

“She has been winning?”

“No, my lady, she had a few wins near the beginning, but more often than not, the battles are declared ties or stopped before it gets too dangerous. She has made quite a reputation for herself, willing to toss a glove for the slightest of offenses.”

“She likely still suspects that there are factions still trying to bother her. I thought I told you to handle it, Howard.”

“My lady… we don’t have jurisdiction over the Devout Guild or the Templar Order…We have been questioning Former Knight-Captain Dustin, but as you say, he knows absolutely nothing. However, when we checked some of the basements in the Templar Order, there was a room with a magical seal used for long distance communication, like the ones used by the League of Adventurers.”

“Can you pin down where it leads?”

“It was too damaged, my lady. Someone slashed the seal in half with a blade.”

“Keep investigating then.”

“Yes, my lady.”

More than a year ago….

“Hmm, the prince seemed to be favored by the gods.” An owl masked man stood atop of a dune in the Tel’dora desert. “It was a good thing I interrogated those soldiers.” He thought back to the two sorry examples of corpses that he had buried nearly a year ago.

“A shame that his luck has run out.” Owl Mask surveyed the dune ahead of him, scrying where the entrance to Tel’naraa was.

“Or perhaps, it is your luck that has ran out.” Owl Mask sensed a presence behind, and turned around and saw a strange looking girl behind him, dressed in a green and black gown and carrying a small black book. “I recently found a disciple, so if you would be so kind to leave him alone, I’m willing to look the other way this time.”

“So there was indeed someone that interfered.” Owl Mask commented, turning to face the newcomer. He did not sense an ounce of magical power, no, he did not even sense a presence from the girl, and that disturbed him immensely. Nevertheless, he was not one of the top assassins in the Kingdom of Macha for no reason. “Little girl, I do not pride myself in killing children, but it seems that I must draw my blade anyway.”

Owl Mask drew a longsword, the greenish tinged edge hinting at the deadly poison it was imbued with. With a technique honed through decades of training, he placed a foot forward, and disappeared from sight, reappearing crouched behind Fieluri, in her blind spot behind her. He swung the blade expecting the sound of tearing flesh, but was only met with the sound of steel on steel as a gold and white sword appeared from a rift, blocking the blow. He leaped back as several spells shot at him from the same rift in retaliation.

“It has been a long time since someone survived from my Shallow Execution.” Owl Mask complimented. “May I have your name, stranger?”

“The boy you are after calls me Fiel.” Fieluri replied, cocking her head to the side. “He’s quite the arrogant one, isn’t he?”

Owl Mask said not a word, not quite understanding what Fieluri was implying. Four more rifts opened behind Fieluri and several elemental lances shot out towards him.

“If you are a mage, then I fear you are at a disadvantage.” Owl Mask tapped at the bracer on his left arm, and it glowed with magical runes. A white shield of light projected itself from the bracer, and the lances, upon touching the light, vanished. “This is a bracer possessed by an ancient hero. Your spells are useless against me!”

“I had thought my disciple was the arrogant one, but it seems I was wrong.” Fieluri’s voice suddenly changed to a much darker tone. “You don’t even understand the difference between us. Allow me to show you.”

“First, that bracer you possess belongs to no hero, but from a group of magus called the Ooalcile.“ Fieluri held out a hand, and a bright magical rune seemed to tear the air and clawing itself into existence.

“What I desire is the graying of the world. I recite this prayer to the ancient snake princess that once ruled all deserts, and may this tribute allow her glory to shine once more.” Fieluri chanted as she murmured the spell and pointed at the masked figure. “Stone Gaze!”

A beam of bright white light shot from the center of her palm and towards Owl Mask.

“That changes nothing! This bracer can block all magic!” Owl Mask held up the bracer to the incoming ray of light, hitting it dead on. After a few moments, nothing happened and he snorted dismissively.

“Should you really be celebrating?”

The man felt a tingling on his arm, and when he looked down, he could not help but cry out in shock. His arm had turned a stone gray, and as he moved, it fragmented into ash and fell to the ground, mixing with the desert sand. The grayness slowly traveled up his arm and his shoulder.

“Hmph.” Fieluri picked up the bracer and returned to the Archive. The only trace of the man was a mask that was quickly covered by sand.

“Airen, Airen. It’s still too soon for your story to end here. I have yet to even begin to amuse myself.”

“Ahhh my dear Anna, why must you break my great heart?” Orshan was sprawled over a tavern in the middle of the night. He had went to meet with a specific someone he fancied at a brothel, only to find out that Anna had left with a man almost a year ago. “I came back to the capital city expecting this, but what’s the point now?”

Orshan grumbled and poured more mead into his cup, downing it and then drinking straight from the bottle. He considered visiting another brothel but his ‘little finger’ was no longer in the mood, and he was starting to feel a bit tipsy.

“Oooh, why are woman so fickle?” Orshan sighed loudly.

“I don’t know either, brother.” A man’s voice answered him as he took the seat next to his right.

Orshan turned to the man that he was unfamiliar with, and Loys smiled back.

“What’s your story, comrade?” Orshan gestured for another cup for his to-be friend.

“I had a woman here, but when I finally came back to visit, she had upped and left!” Loys complained, accepting the cup and downing it.

“Me too!” Orshan instantly felt a kinship with this stranger. “I’ve finally returned to Rasshaval only to find that she left with another man a year ago!”

“Alas brother, your story is similar to mine.” Loys sighed and gestured for the bartender to pass him a bottle and cup. “Where do you frequent?”

“Oh, a variety of places… but the one that left was from The Bending Willow.” Orshan shrugged, clinking glasses with his new pal.

“The Bending Willow?” Loys’ eyes flashed. “Was it a blonde haired women called Anna?”

“...It was.” Orshan looked at the man in front of him. “It seems we had the same woman in mind, brother.”

“Looks like it.” Loys nodded, but then placed his head on the counter. “But I heard that she left with a woman...”

“A woman...” Orshan traversed his memories trying to find clues to Anna’s preferences. “...That really doesn’t seem like her.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Loys shrugged. “It’s always the least susceptible ones.”

“Ugh, I was looking forward to it.” Orshan complained, slamming his cup on the table. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a specific book, he turned to a specific page and handed it to Loys. “This was the sketch I had made of her… It’s a waste I tell you! A waste!”

Loys looked at the sketch book as if it was some priceless jewel. “You… you drew this? This is a work of art!”

“I’m glad you think of it that way!” Orshan clapped a hand around Loys’ shoulder. “You and I, we are going to get along just fine! You know what, keep that book! I have extra copies at home!”

“I will treasure this.” Loys carefully turned the pages. “You are a true connoisseur of the art! What is your name!”

“I am Orshan! And what is yours, my brother?!”

“My name is Loys! I have traveled long and far, and your book was the best I have ever seen!”

Orshan was moved to tears, at last he has found someone that felt the same way about his work.

“And this page… are those real?”

“Oh that one! That one’s from Julieti at the Ocean’s Clams!”

“Her? I have never bought her but now-”

“It’s worth it. Trust me!” Orshan placed his arm around Loys shoulder. “Why don’t we go have a look now since Anna has left us!”

“Let us go!” Loys shouted, downing his third bottle. “For science and art!”

The two men drunkenly tottered towards the exit after throwing a few gold coins onto the counter. From there, the two had a relatively fun night touring the countless red light districts.

But perhaps it was a good thing they woke up the next day with no recollection of the other, except for the book in Loy’s pockets.

It is said that on his travels, Loys is still trying to find the original owner of that book.

“Greetings. History Eater.” Keri said without turning around from her sewing. “I heard that you scolded Airen.”

“Oh? I actually heard the same thing, but you were the one that did the scolding.” Fieluri sat down in one of the three chairs, reaching for the tray of cookies. “How nice of you to prepare for my coming. Airen could learn a thing or two from you about hospitality.”

“I had imagined you would be coming soon.” Keri nodded, putting down the items she has been working on and picking up the teacup. “I heard you were a fan of tea.”

“I am a fan of just about everything there is, when the time is right. But tea is nice.” Fieluri accepted the cup Keri poured for her. “Working on embroidery now?”

“For a time perhaps. I was not sure what to do with all the monster fur, so I weaved it into thread.” Keri replied. She often went out hunting to replenish whatever supplies she used up in Airen’s vault, and it kept her mind occupied.

“If you’re bored, you can simply go explore the outside world.” Fieluri sipped her tea. “There’s no need for you to stay here in this vault.”

“I have no interest in the world outside, and if I use too much magic, my presence would alert others.” Keri refilled both their cups. “I am not like you, who does not even have a presence.”

“Oh? So you have noticed.” Fieluri munched on a cookie like a squirrel. “Are you not going to ask me why?”

“Thou art the History Eater, wielder of an uncountable number of stories, and all the blades, spells, and all manner of fantasy along with them.”

“Quite a flatterer, aren’t you.” Fieluri smiled. “See, if you were like this when we first met, we could have avoided all this conflict. The young version of you was quite a stubborn girl.”

“I doubt we would have gotten along anyway. I had come to you seeking answers after all, and-”

“But you did get your answer, although it was not by your hands.” Fieluri laughed. “How was that scroll I gave you on Magicka of the Night?”

“...I had always thought that my heritage was Hellfire, but it was wrong this entire time...”

“You would have realized it after a few more years, but you were stubborn.” Fieluri reached for another snack. “In Osperica, you realized it, didn’t you?”

“It was too late then.” Keri stared into the distance. “But still, I had not expected my Abyssal World to be dealt with so easily…”

“Magic is my plaything, Lizabel.“ Fieluri waved her hands and spheres of rainbow light rose around the two of them. “I must take my leave now. Thanks for the tea. You should teach Airen how to properly brew tea.”

“I will try.” Keri waved a hand in farewell, but Fieluri had already gone.

...

“Here we are.” Fieluri snapped a finger, and a book that was the size of a building in front of her flipped another page before stopping. A gigantic quill pen levitated in the air for a moment, before pressing into a blank spot on the page.

“Thou art the History Eater, wielder of an uncountable number of stories, and all the blades, spells, and all manner of fantasy along with them.”