AN: This is the only story that I am updating today. I am currently getting over an illness of the last few days (yay, for the changing of the weather) and as such I need to rest a little more. Expect an update or two on Blackthorne and Galataea tomorrow, for those interested.

This volume of Origin ARS only has one more length chapter and then a short epilogue to go. These shorter, meaty, chapters help a lot in writing things I think. Future stories that I might add to this site might take this route if not the short partial chapter route.

Chapter 5: Well Met, Brother

Explosions rocked the air as the occasional lightning bolt made it through the city defense field. The warding was powerful, but spread thin due to the necessity of covering such a large area. As time passed it would temporarily weaken in certain areas. When that happened lightning strikes, or worse managed to get through.

Exploding buildings were bad enough, but the monsters that began to spawn in certain areas would hunt down survivors. They were weak as monsters might go, but compared to many of the less active citizens those monsters were hellish beasts.

Scott, for all of his recent training, was having a tough time of things as he raced through the city in search of a place to hide. Unfortunately for him, he had reached the park shelter too late. The guard turned him away because they were at full capacity. What sort of man turned away another man in a crises because space would be a little cramped? Scott had discovered quite quickly that the city guard valued a little elbow room more than his life.

So it was that the twilight sorcerer fled through streets filled with rampaging monsters, chased by lightning that seemed to follow him exclusively. Though, the latter issue was most likely all in his imagination.

Scott rounded a corner then swiftly ducked down to avoid a hard swing of a biting steel axe. The beast, some sort of living armor or machine doll, quickly whipped its massive axe back toward him with the reverse side. Forced to roll away from the powerful strike, he was only narrowly able to avoid a surprise strike from another of the eldritch monsters.

A terrifying sensation tore over him as a wave of dark energy rippled out. Scott screamed in fear and rolled away quickly in order to get away from the hellish thing. These monstrosities had the power to effect the mind and cause hallucinations while instilling a demoralizing fear.

Up, up the fallen debris of a ruined house Scott clambered. He rose atop the debris and did his best to shake off the fear effects while the monsters gathered round. They were not particularly powerful, but they were durable and disregarded most physical attacks. At least, they disregarded his physical attacks.

The aura of fear, the desperation to flee that it inspired, and the physical representation of his waiting death; all of these things combined to make it incredibly difficult to concentrate. However, with that simple moment's respite he was able to begin the process of calming himself, of reaching within to begin the process of fighting back.

Energies of storm and the celestial forces above began to surge within him as he envisioned the pattern for his spell. Within his mind's eye he could see the forces of nature and the heavens above converge and express themselves via the power of his will. Scott lifted his hand above his head and unleashed that power. "Starlight Flare!"

Brilliant in its luminescence, a sphere of bright white light and crackling lightning appeared overhead. An auric effect raced outward that would light the world around him while it also damaged those considered to be opponents. The dark aligned and demonic would take special damage. Though uncertain whether these beasts counted as either dark aligned or demonic beings, it did not matter. The spell was his best hope at present.

Sluggish due to his lack of skill and overall experience, the orb floated down as his will directed. The axe-wielding monsters unleashed unholy screams and their armor began to spark wildly as they were touched by the celestial energies. While they could defend against axe or sword, they were no match for a power that ignored standard magical defenses.

Scott was greatly surprised when several of the beasts fell over sideways, destroyed by the light. Starlight flare was an area-of-effect spell, to be certain, but it did not do a great deal of damage even to the dark or demonic. Of course, this event was not like the tutorial dungeon. These monsters were not scaled to his stats.

Unlike the hellions, the living armor beasts just continued to try and get to him without care or concern. Even as smoke roiled off of their armor they did their best to terrify and destroy. They were mindless creatures created by an evil will. Soon, they were nothing but charred armor and the remnants of a nightmare.

Scott sighed slightly then slid down the debris to check the wreckage for loot. He was uncertain of whether he would even survive this event, but if he did, he wanted to get paid for his troubles.

It was a scene that replayed itself constantly throughout the next few hours. Scott, uncertain of where to go in the city, roamed around in circles. He fought the automaton beasts, or whatever they might be called, whenever he could find a safe vantage point outside their reach. He ignored them the rest of the time. He had a strong suspicion that their axes would neatly cleave him asunder. Theirs was a game of cat and mouse, but one where both the cat and mouse each had a cannon, but their bodies were made of glass. The first shot to hit would win.

He slipped under a bit of debris to hide from a passing contingent of the armored beasts. Dozens of them marched by his hiding place never suspecting that sweet, sweet, mortal meat resided only a short distance away. Scott would not have said that he cowered before their numbers, but he would not have denied it either.

After the rattling bastards passed, he crawled out of the debris and started moving along the street once more. He had yet to find another shelter, but had run across many badly ruined corpses. Men, women, children; it did not matter to the things that stomped through the streets. If they sighted the living, they did their best to tear that life away.

"So, this is war in a fantasy world." said Scott softly in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. A whisper might give him away as it was often more harsh than words spoken in a soft tone. It would carry farther through the desolate streets.

Through an alleyway he slipped, his hands at the ready and his eyes alert to the dangers of the world around him. It was hard to sense the energies of man or monster in the ruination of this part of the city. What was not difficult to sense was the fear in the voice of the young child who began to scream just up ahead.

Scott launched himself up the chain link fence that blocked off the alleyway then flipped over the top to land on the lid of the dumpster on the other side. The child screamed once more, before he went terribly silent. Around the corner, the gruesome sight of six of the beasts repeatedly slamming their axes down to tear apart the remnants of a former life could be seen.

Blue eyebrows pressed together. Scott's eyes narrowed. He was tired of seeing things like this. Sometimes the monsters stopped to make sure a corpse was a corpse. Yet, this was far worse. He had arrived too late to even try to do anything for the boy while he lived. But he would be damned if he let those things continue to desecrate his corpse.

Enraged, but alert, eyes scanned the area for some vantage point that he could use to easily finish the beasts. There was none. It was an open parking lot, but none of the vehicles were high enough off of the ground to use as a stable point of attack. "Fine, we'll have to dance a little."

Scott checked the area once more then nodded. He could not be perfectly safe, but he made a plan of attack then called out his spell. None of his other abilities were defined enough to be of any real use in this fight, but he knew that starlight flare would kill these things if he could keep them from killing him first.

He ran toward the gathered monsters and snatched up a chunk of shattered stone that he saw on the ground in passing. With a snarky cry of, "Hey, ugly." he throw the bit of shattered building at the closest monster. It smacked into the side of the beasts helm and all six of the monstrosities ceased movement.

The background music shifted from the somber, depressing, score that had been playing. It had been the background soundtrack of a city in ruin. A violin played in the background as woodwind instruments carried a melancholy tune. Now, the music had shifted to a deep drumming sound. It was a pounding tune reminiscent of barbarians about to make war in any number of sword and sorcery films.

Slowly, they turned their helms toward the blue-haired sorcerer. Eldritch light flared through their eye holes and the monsters began to stomp toward him. The background music picked up woodwind instruments and the beginning stirring of a guitar.

They were faster than they looked, but still slower than a hellion. Scott easily made it to the first spot that he had picked. He leapt atop an overturned car, a dark grey contraption that looked a bit like a jeep with no wheels. It was a strange thing to see in a parking lot full of vehicles that actually did have wheels, but that was not important at the moment. What was important, was that the beasts were upon him.

His little pulsating light of celestial retribution burned the beasts even as they stomped toward him. The closest among them whipped his axe down in a killing stroke, but Scott had already begun to move. Compared to the hellions, these things were just as dangerous in a close battle but far more predictable.

Scott launched himself backward just enough to avoid being cleaved in half. His light remained on the other side of the vehicle and burned the monsters with its purifying force. The axe-wielding beast yanked its weapon free of the wreckage before it and two of its brethren joined it in chopping down what remained. It was rather disheartening to see how little time it took them to tear through so much solid metal.

However, every few seconds that passed the monsters were burned by the light. Scott hopped back to avoid another powerful cleaving motion then repeated that process a few more times. He needed to keep the monsters busy, but he also had to stay outside the range of their fear effect.

Soon he had hopped back far enough to begin the next phase of his plan. Scott leapt atop a bright orange vehicle that looked like a muscle car from earth. When the first monster swung at him, he performed an expert backflip that allowed him to almost lazily arc through the air to land atop the next vehicle behind him. By the time the monster freed its blade, the pulsating light had taken the life of one of its compatriots.

Scott nodded. He had no performed these backflips and hopping motions to look cool. He needed to kill these murderous bastards and move on. Fighting them head on was suicidal for him at this point, so he had been forced to use his terrain and focus on his magical attacks throughout this horrible night.

The monsters tore into that poor car for all they were worth, and soon broke it down to the point that they began to step up onto the wreckage. Another monster fell to the side, its armor charred by the light.

Starlight flare could last for only a scant few minutes at his skill-level, but that was more than enough time to wreck these things. They relied heavily on their brute power and physical defense.

A repeat performance of his backflip and wait plan occurred, and soon the remainder of the beasts fell to the side. The power animating them had been destroyed by the gentle celestial light.

No time was wasted in checking the fallen monsters for loot. He could not carry the charred armor plates for lack of space, but he did find a few coins and the occasional gemstone when he defeated one of these things.

Surprisingly, he found something new. "A letter?"

Scott opened it, expecting to see some sort of mission orders even though the monsters probably did not even read.

[Mission Briefing]

A Desperate Mother's Plea

Oh Origin, patron of love and reincarnation, please hear my prayer. My son Jimothy has run off in search of his father. I fear the worst! Please, hear the prayer of a desperate mother and bring my sweet boy home to me. Barring that, bring what remains of him so that we might return him to this world.

Mission Requirements: You have located the remains of a young boy slain by the Eldritch Armor Knights of the Storm Tyrant. Bring his remains to his mother before three dawns have passed.

If you have a crysta-com you can scan the code at the bottom to generate a city map and location for the quest.

Success: Bring the remains of Jimothy to his mother.

Failure: Fail to bring the remains of Jimothy to his mother before three dawns have passed.

Reward(s): Increased Event Contribution Acknowledgments, improved relations with the church of Origin, a mother's thanks.

[--]

Scott's eyes narrowed. "I see. The letter thing really is how quests pop up sometimes. That's an odd way to give out quests, but I'll do my best." He fiddled with his crysta-com for a moment until he recalled how to scan things. After scanning the bottom of the letter, a map application appeared on his mobile device. It showed his current location, and his next location, which was Jimothy's body. There was even a little distance marker that showed how far he was from his objective.

He ran over to the body of the boy and then wished that he hadn't. What he saw was something that no one should have to see, much less the boy's mother. The body was in too many pieces to lift and carry. He was forced to tear down the awning of a nearby building and use it to pile the pieces inside. He wanted to be as gentle and respectful as possible, but it was not easy.

His crysta-com vibrated in his pocket and he checked it. He had received a destination update. "Distance eight thousand six hundred forty-seven." How far was that? It sounded like a large amount of ground to cover.

Scott took a few experimental steps toward his destination and the distance dropped by twenty-two."Oh! I get it, it's that many normal steps." He thought about it for a moment, it sounded like the destination and distance markers worked on full paces. Those were about a yard, which was similar to a meter. "Eight kilometers then...?"

He rubbed his chin. The metric system was not exactly a native thing for him. His time in the army had taught him that a twenty kilometer ruck march was about twelve miles. Given the fact that the destination thing seemed to measure movement in paces, it would probably be better to consider the distance in yards or normal steps instead of meters in the future. "It's a good four or five miles through this hell to get you home, kid."

The colorfully clad sorcerer reached down and carefully lifted the wrapped body of the small boy. Before his change into a fantasy world hero in the making the burden of carrying so much weight would have been problematic. Scott barely noticed the weight, in his current capacity, however. Such was the carrying capacity of a man when they had five times the strength of the strongest man who had ever lived on Earth. No there was a much more solemn weight to this small burden in his arms that no stats could lighten.

In the distance he could hear the tell-tale sounds of gunfire. The city guard was fighting against another wave of monsters. Lightning crashed in the background. The invasion of the city continued unabated. The background music had already shifted and returned to its somber score and its crying violin as well.

"Let's get you home." said Scott softly. The sorcerer set out across the city once more. This time he did not stop to fight monsters. He avoided both them and the patrols of the city guard. They would try to usher him into one of the underground safety areas or shoot him since he might look like a looter, or worse.

A few minutes later he was forced to stop and wait as a roving guard patrol passed near his location. He truly did not want to stop and explain his current situation to a city guard. What would he say if he had to explain? Scott snorted then shook his head. One hand rose into the air palm up. "Pardon me good sir, may I be on my way? I have collected various bits of a small boy in this sack and I don't want him to spoil."

For a moment he thought that he should feel bad about his morbid joke, but the moment passed and he chuckled softly in the darkness. As disturbing as the situation was, the ability to laugh at it helped him to relieve quite a bit of built up stress.

He continued on his way, his heart a bit lighter despite his terrible burden. After a time he came to a rather significant impasse. What looked to be an entire sky-scraper had fallen over sideways. It was the sort of hellish damage that a modern city would normally see if a giant monster invaded.

Scott scrambled over the top, or rather what had once been the side, of the fallen megastructure using the debris as a means of reaching its high surface. Roughly half the way to the top he was forced to break his way into the building through the surprisingly damage-resistant glass that constituted its outer wall. He was certain that it had been weakened in the collapse, but he was surprised that it had not already broken during the fall.

The war was ridiculous. If the city survived, would it ever be whole again? Once inside the building he called out his starlight flare spell to allow him to see what he was doing, and to add a little protection in case of axe-wielding monsters.

The sideways structure proved to be rather maze-like at first as it defied his sense of logical physical dimensions. He had to crawl through doorways, and ended up reversing his course several times before he managed to climb up into a corner officer through interior rooms.

It took more time and effort than he would have liked, but he managed to pile enough debris up in the corner of that corner office to reach the glass wall above. It was not exactly the smartest move, but if he wanted to continue forward from here he would have to break through the glass. He sat the sack of Jimothy to the side then covered his eyes with one hand while he punched up into the glass with the other.

Without clear sight of his target it took a while to break through, but he managed it somehow. He had received a few minor cuts from the thick glass shards in the process, but he was tough enough physically for such a thing to only be a minor irritation. His knuckles did feel a bit raw, however.

Scott tossed the Jimmy sack up through the hole, respectfully of course, then leapt climbed up out of the madness that was a sideways building. Once free of the place he looked around and saw that the way beyond was surprisingly clear. "Well, that's something."

He walked to the edge of the building and looked down. There was no clear way down nearby. The glass only appeared at the halfway point on the side of the building, and the place where it had fractured and toppled in a manner that probably completely defied the laws of physics was filled with loose, shifting, debris that he could not trust as a means to escape the place. One wrong move would leave both him and his passenger buried. Frustration welled up within him for a moment. He thought he might have to go back inside and seek out a middle room.

It was not until he spied something on the street below that he had an idea. It would be risky, but wasn't everything risky at this point?

Scott carefully walked to his chosen destination and looked across the divide. The building that he stood on was huge and even fallen on its side, it was still a long way down to the street below. However, there was a street light with an extended arm that he might use.

He sighed then checked the ties on the makeshift sack he had made to carry Jimothy. Afterward, he spoke to the boy. "I'm sorry about this, but it's the only way unless I want to backtrack a lot." Left unsaid was the fact that backtracking through the mess that the city had become could lead him into an even worse situation.

Scott respectfully tossed the Jimmy sack off the side of the building before looking at the street lamp once more. He took a deep breath, steeled his resolve and then made a running leap toward his goal. Unfortunately, his aim was a little off as he was not used to making such grandiose leaps. Scott's hands just barely gripped the the lamp's arm, but that was not nearly enough to stop his descent. A great deal of the momentum of his fall was mitigated but the force was still enough to rip his fingers free of their loose purchase. He fell hard to the earth below and landed with a loud, pained, cry. Thankfully, enough of his fall had been broken that his legs had not been.

Once he recovered from the surprising end to the current leg of his journey, he collected little Jimothy and went about his journey. Along the way he would occasionally check his crysta-com to see where he needed to go. The monsters and guard patrols thinned considerably once he left the city-center, and became practically non-existent as he entered the outskirts of the city where Jimothy's family lived. At the moment the invading army seemed content to do as much damage to the heart of the city as possible.

It had taken over three hours due to the wreckage and the need to hide on occasion, but Scott managed to reach his destination. It was a building that looked like a church but with a statue of Origin in the courtyard. She had her arms outstretched and wore a crown of flowers. Her well-sculpted face brought a smile to his. He missed her, and the statue was an excellent likeness.

Reminiscence of currently denied love aside, his destination was not a house like he had originally thought. It was a civilian defense shelter beneath the church. The guards posted outside stopped him as he drew closer to his goal.

"Sorry, sir. We're full."

"I'm not here to stay. I'm here to deliver something." said Scott.

"A delivery? Here? In this?" asked the guard surprised.

"Is it a pizza, captain? I could do with a slice." asked one of the men snidely, though there was also a slightly hopeful tone in his voice. Several of the men laughed, though the one manning the heavy gun didn't take his eyes off Scott while doing so.

"Aye, me too! Is there sausage on it?" asked one of the other men.

The captain shook his head then granted Scott a long suffering look. He had been with these men a little too long tonight. "Forgive my men. These little jokes keep their spirits up."

"It's fine, but I really do need to go inside." said Scott.

The captain shook his head. "Like I said, we're full up. Too many people in one place could draw those things down on us. We can handle a few of them at a time, but we aren't the army. We're not equipped for large scale battles."

Uncertain what else to do, Scott pulled out the letter that he had received and showed it to the guard. The man's eyes widened, and then they slowly narrow. "I see. So, the boy didn't make it?"

Scott shook his head. "No, he was killed before I could get to him, though I destroyed the eldritch armor knights that took his life."

"Ah, good! Well, there's a few priests of Origin downstairs. Can't turn away pregnant women, or children whether living or dead according to the head priest's order. You can take the poor lad down there and discuss things with the head priest." said the shelter captain.

Down into the earth he went, the body of the small boy wrapped in his arms. The previously laughing men were silenced by their captain. There was no joy in this moment, and what Scott bore was certainly not a pizza. Though, had anyone taken a good look inside the sack after the way that it had been dragged through the streets one might wonder at the similarities that the contents held in relation to pizza toppings.

After clearing the stairs he walked down a short corridor and moved past another set of guards. They had him wait a moment as they opened a metal blast door and turned off the shield that helped to secure it. Through the door, Scott was met with the sounds and scents of unwashed humanity. Though, some of the unwashed masses were not exactly human.

In the far back there was a small alcove where robed men congregated around a table. They viewed a large crystalline sphere with rapt attention and hawkish eyes.

"Pieter, I tell you that the army is overmatched this time." said one of the men as Scott approached.

"Dovak, do you see the placement of the second battalion? They are clearly buying time for something." said the man named Pieter.

"Aye, see here and here as well? The Blizrum priests are focusing their powers on the rear guard as well, instead of the main attack force." said another, unnamed, priest.

Scott eyed the fourth man, the man with the fanciest robes. He wore red robes with a large circular shaped gold medallion that had the appearance of a stylized phoenix within a triangle. If he had to guess, that man would be the head priest. He was also the only one who had yet to speak.

It did not take long for the older man, the head priest, to turn his head. He blinked slowly once, and then twice more. His eyes widened when he gazed upon Scott then slowly placed his hand to his mouth. Scott immediately felt an uncomfortable sensation flow through his body.

The head priest stood up from his chair and moved toward him, the action causing a minor ruckus among the younger priests. "What's going on your eminence?"

Snow white and bushy eyebrows pressed together as he took stock of Scott's face for a moment. He then turned back to the other priests and said. "Continue your lessons on the study of war. I must speak with this man alone."

The three younger priests stared slack-jawed at Scott and then back to the head priest. This was a strange sort of event to have happen during an invasion!

The head priest gestured politely for Scott to follow him. He hurried after, curiosity evident upon his face. What had spooked the older man? He had taken a single look at his face and suddenly become quite animated. In the far alcove, behind a metal door, Scott and the head priest began to speak earnestly.

"My apologies for not entertaining you better, brother." The older man extended his arm to Scott. A sudden, strange, urge possessed the blue haired man. Scott reached out and clasped the older man's forearm. The older man clasped Scott's as well. The priest's eyes lit up slightly when Scott said, "Well met, brother. My name is Scott."

The older man visibly relaxed after hearing what Scott's mind now referenced as a customary greeting among kin, more specifically the head priest was Lunarii himself. In many ways it had been like when he had first learned to fight or use his magic. He had simply known a few things via spiritual download and the rest had to be learned. He now simply knew several customs among his apparent kind.

"Ah, brother. I am the head priest of this church. I am known as Heralt." He took a breath then smiled beatifically. "Long has it been since I have seen a brother of the twilight. Tell me, what brings you to this land and this shelter?"

"I am in this land searching for a means of improving myself, brother. Sadly, I am in this shelter to bring this child to his mother." said Scott.

The head priest glanced to the burden in Scott's arms then inclined his head. "It is always the youngest among us who suffer most in times of war."

Scott nodded. He was not certain what else to say on the matter.

"Twilight brother, do you know the name of this child's mother?" asked the priest.

"No, but his name is Jimothy. Here, have a look at this." Scott gently laid the boy's body atop a nearby table then then pulled out the mission briefing.

The priests' bushy eyebrows rose once more. "Brother... You directly received a prayer request from our great goddess, Origin?"

"Seems so." said Scott in a non-committal manner. He received no useful additional information on the subject and did not want to lie to the man.

The head priest. Closed his eyes then sighed softly. "Jimothy. I know of only one who lives in this neighborhood. He is a small boy, quite rambunctious. He is his mother's heart and her bane."

Scott nodded his head. "I heard him cry out, but I arrived too late to do anything but avenge his death."

"That is a sad tale told many times tonight brother. At least this time there is a happy ending." said the elder.

Normally, such a statement would seem bizarre. In this instance, it was the truth. The head priest was one of the few people in the city capable of greater resurrection. Scott helped the elder to prepare the body of the boy. Neither man wanted to gaze long upon the corpse, nor the ruination caused by the monsters that stomped through the streets.

The elder began to make large sweeping gestures with his hands. He whispered soft words that Scott could barely hear, but made the various pieces of the body on the table begin to shimmer and shake. Soon they appeared to melt into a puddle. It was both immanently fascinating and entirely disgusting to witness.

Where once there had been several dozen chunks of unfortunate Jimothy, there was now a rapidly congealing puddle of Jimothy goo. More words of power were spoken. The goo flowed together into a singular mound and then began to spread outward once more.

Scott watched as the head priest commanded the goo to take on the form of the boy that it had once been. The process stopped there for a time and the priest stepped back, exhausted.

"Now we must wait a short time, brother. The genetic structure of the boy must settle or he will mutate uncontrollably. Such things can be fixed, but not easily."

Scott nodded as though he had understood that. "So, this is greater resurrection?"

"Yes, the second most difficult type of resurrection, and the most advanced that the gods have taught us to use directly. Only the prayer of total awakening takes more power, and it might even cost the life of the one who prays for it."

Several minutes passed in polite conversation while the elder rested. He consumed a brightly glowing vial of fluorescent blue liquid then sighed. "The Storm Tyrant has made a mess of things with his grand ambitions."

"Oh?" asked Scott. He knew nothing of the man's ambitions, but would certainly like to know more.

"Yes, how there can be such bitterness in the heart of one so young is beyond me. It is not like he was destined to be the Valkovian emperor. He was the youngest of twelve." said the priest with a sigh.

"Thunder Reign..." mumbled Scott purposefully. He spoke the word as though he considered something, but what he was really attempting to do was coax the old man into explaining what Thunder Reign actually was.

"Oh yes, Thunder Reign indeed. Without that divine beast summons he would not be a true threat to the crown. I'm still not certain how a human, who had never been trained as a summoner to my knowledge, could summon a beast of that magnitude without killing himself."

Scott filed that tidbit of knowledge away. He had wondered about the creature he occasionally saw in the flash of lightning. It was a great bird much like the ancient quetzacoatl meso-american mythology and lore. The great thunder bird that controlled lightning and storms in the minds and hearts of the ancient peoples of South America.

He still did not understand how lightning could blow up a stone building, but he had decided not to question it too closely. There was probably some sort of magical ability in that lightning strike that caused explosions.

They spoke of lighter things after that for a time. The old priest asked a few questions about Scott's travels. Scott answered them as best he could. Eventually, the gelatinous goo that had once been Jimothy was ready for the next step.

"You who have fallen to the darkness both battered and torn, return thy form to that of man that your loved ones may no longer mourn." sang out the priest in a well-formed rhyme.

Scott had not heard such a succinct rhyme for a spell before. He did not use incantations, and had only heard a few spells that were actually cast via such a method. Once or twice Rhea had utilized a blade singer style song in a fight, but it had largely been unnecessary in the casual server. There had also been an occasional magic-user in a town that he had heard in passing when they were wandering through the casual server.

Gelatin Jimothy shimmered and shook briefly as waves of mystical energy radiated throughout his body. With each pulse of power the corpse took on a form that was more solid and distinct. Several minutes passed as Jimothy hardened back into a little boy, and it was another few minutes before the priest was satisfied that the boy was as solid on the inside as the outside.

Bushy white eyebrows pressed together in consideration while the elder considered the next step. "He seems to have come this far well-enough. There is no hint of a curse, at least no curse at a level that would cause problems."

Another tidbit of information was filed away inside Scott's mind. There were curses that would interfere with resurrection. He had not been happy to know such a thing was possible, but he was glad to have been granted a warning about it.

Gnarled old hands waved over the body of the body as Heralt cleansed the body of any lingering negative status effects. Once that process was completed he sang out a short lyrical verse in a language Scott did not understand. The corpse on the table began to emit a radiant light, soon a white mist similar to a glowing fog suffused the area around the body.

As the priest chanted the light intensified but the mist diminished. Not long after it had appeared, the mist was gone. The light died away shortly after that.

Heralt sighed, exhaustion evident on his features. "It is done. The child will need to rest for at least a full day before he can undergo further healing."

He turned to Scott. "We should inform his mother."

Scott glanced down at the body and noticed that the color had returned to the body and though hard to see, his chest did rise and fall in a shallow manner. It would be easy to miss if he did not look carefully.

"I'm curious about something, brother." said Scott.

"Yes, brother?"

"Why use greater resurrection when you could have simply brought him back in a new body?" asked Scott.

The elder nodded. "Fair question. You are not from this city so you do not know. The city defense shield interferes with simple restoration as a means of interrupting the ability of foreign powers to resurrect within the city walls. The boy would have randomly been restored at one of the holy places outside of the city. Those places are crawling with monsters."

"I see, and the body was too damaged to use lesser resurrection." said Scott thoughtfully.

The elder sighed once more, obviously tired. "Yes, that power can only be used if the body is mostly intact. A limb or two can be missing as long as the head is intact, but you saw the state of the boy."

A frown crossed the sorcerer's lips. "Now it makes sense. Those damned tin cans are deliberately chopping the bodies apart."

"Of course, it's an ancient tactic of war. The more damaged the body, the harder it is to restore the life of the fallen. Simple restoration requires us to touch the body or an important piece of it at least such as the head, a major organ, or a large limb. Lesser resurrection requires a relatively intact body."

"Greater resurrection is needed for bodies that have been torn apart... What about true awakening?" asked Scott.

"Ah, now that dangerous prayer is for the fallen who have had their bodies completely destroyed by incineration, disintegration, or one who has been digested by a beast so that no large body parts remain. It can also be used if the body has not been found, though there is a greater chance that the prayer will go unanswered in that case."

"I see, so when nothing is left of the body the gods might answer an earnest prayer." said Scott.

Heralt nodded then a wry smile crossed his lips. "Unless you're a noble or well-heeled merchant in some kingdoms. There are those who hedge their bets."

"Hedge their bets?"

"Yes, they routinely have a major body part surgically removed once a year then have the missing limb regenerated. They have to spend a week or so as an invalid, but if they die they can simply be restored in town."

"Smart. Freakish, but smart." said Scott. "I assume that they preserve the limb somehow?"

"Of course. Such magical preservation lasts for several years actually, but they do this on a yearly basis so that they have a few backup limbs in different locations to prevent theft." The old man informed Scott in an amused tone of voice reminiscent of a terrible gossip.

"I'm surprised such a work around actually works." said Scott.

"It doesn't always. They hedge their bets but even simple restoration can fail. Those preserved limbs are often long removed from the body." Heralt leaned in and whispered to Scott like the next thing that he said would be a dire secret.

"Their connection to the spirit of the fallen weakens and the limb is destroyed in the resurrection attempt regardless of whether it works or not. They always use the newest limb first since it has the best chance of working."

"I'll guess that doing all that is hideously expensive." said Scott.

"Oh yes, keeping a limb fresh and preserved in such a way that it will actually work requires high level magic. Those sorts of spells do not come cheap."

They were about to discuss such things further when an urgent knock came at the door. Heralt moved to the door, annoyed at the interruption.

Pieter was on the other side. Before the head priest could ask what the issue was, the younger priest blurted out. "Your eminence! The lunarii have come to the aid of the empire."

"Show me!" exclaimed Heralt with great excitement. Scott followed after them as they left the room. He was curious as well.

The four priests, and a blue haired sorcerer, gathered round the crystalline sphere. Heralt frowned then waved his hand over the top to cause the image on the surface to expand upward into an illusory image. Surprised by the contents of the imagery Scott could only look on in fascination at this world's version of a news report.

"Yes, you're seeing it live here on channel seven! The Lunarian capital ship, Golden Crescent has arrived on the scene and the paladins of Sol-Karan have taken to the battle field on their sky-cutters. No wait! They also brought the one hundred first war-mech regiment." said an anchorman who Scott could only think of as an orc. He had the tusks and brutal features one might associate with such a person.

The image on screen shifted back to the battlefield and Scott was able to see what a true battle was like on this world. Everywhere he looked there were blond haired men and women whipping through the skies on small boomerang-like objects. They hurled coherent beams of light down on the armies before, fired off shots from large magical firearms, or swooped down and used their mighty warhammers to do incredible damage to various eldritch armor knights. On the ground massive armored figures that looked every bit like giant robots stomped through the area while firing off coherent beams of light or swinging huge blades that plowed through the enemy.

Magical artillery batteries from the back, it was the Valkovian military regiment survivors acting as fire support, and aimed for the thickest concentrations of the knights in opposition. On the ground all around the battle there could be seen thousands of bodies and the wreckage of hundreds of vehicles, even a few giant robot looking devices as well. The ground was stained black as the innocent earth had become soaked with the blood of the fallen.

The background music that accompanied the image was strange, but exciting. It had the blaring brass horns, orchestrated classic music with booming drums, and overall dangerous tone that one might expect. However, there was also the sound of 80s style heavy metal guitar riffs and electronic dance music mixed in like the battle was some sort of drug-induced rave. Somehow it all worked together to create a dynamic battle the likes of which Scott had never even seen on television.

"It's happening! The Lunarian capital ship is preparing to fire!" exclaimed the orc anchorman.

The gathered men watched in rapt fascination as the capital ship, a massive flying vessel shaped like a strange combination of giant glowing golden ring, and stylized wings of light that flared out and back to give the ship a crescent shape. In truth, it looked a bit like a boomerang. If the image could be believed, Scott guessed that the ring portion alone would easily have a diameter roughly the size of an aircraft carrier from Earth.

Magical energy was drawn into the center of the ring causing an extraordinarily intense light to radiate outward. Scott had his first clear glimpse of Thunder Reign as the lightning beast appeared from within the clouds and began striking down at the ship in earnest with its tremendously powerful lightning.

The wings of light that radiated outward from the central ring flared brilliantly as the lightning strike hit the previously invisible shield surrounding the core of the vessel. A brilliant golden light erupted as electricity arced all around the vessel.

Bright pristine light whirled within the center of the ring and more power was drawn from within the vessel and the world around it. The news anchor could be heard saying something in the background about the celestial energies used by the main gun of the Golden Crescent.

Suddenly, paladins turned swiftly from the battle. Golden shields appeared around them and they placed their hands over their ears. The Valkovian army immediately began to hunker down as best they could as well.

"It's coming!" exclaimed Heralt with excitement, his eyes raptly trained on the screen before him. "The pride of our nation..."

As the light intensified at the center of the ring, a wave of pressure washed out that caused the sky to clear and the land beneath them to tremble. Eldritch armor knights caught below the ship were crushed into the dirt instantly.

"What...?" asked Dovak as he felt a minor trembling in the Earth even at this distance. A slight rattle of items on the table showed the power of what was about to be unleashed.

It was then that it happened. A brilliant flash of light, a tremendous clap of thunder, and the release of the most powerful magical attack Scott had ever seen. Energy whirled together at a single hyper-condensed point at the center of the ring. A massive blast of pure celestial mana raced outward and slammed into Thunder Reign with enough force to cause the entire city to shake once more.

The light from the attack was so intense that the men had to look away for a moment. However, the moment the anchor orc started to shout they looked back. "Crescent annihilation has done its job! Thunder Reign's immortal thunder defense field is down!"

"Damn right!" snarled Dovak as he stood up and made a fist.

Suddenly, the battle came alive again as every paladin and remaining Valkovian soldier began attacking the summoned beast in earnest. A rough half minute later the Golden Crescent began to fire intermittent beams of light that spiraled into the monster bird with great effect. Thunder Reign screamed in pain and outrage. Feathers flew, blood poured from hundreds of minor wounds.

The beast tried to fight back with its lightning mastery, but the sheer number of attacks kept it constantly on the ropes. Without its natural defense field it was just another massively powerful monster. The individual forces arrayed against it were nothing but ants attacking a gigantic picnic, but they were also fire ants that worked as a swarm.

Still, even with all of the forces arrayed against the beast it took the better part of half an hour to destroy it. The battle for the city was over. Thunder Reign had been beaten, for now.

Scott watched as the paladins of Sol-Karan and the Valkovian army regulars mopped up the remaining knights on the field. Soon, even the beasts that roamed the streets would be taken care of and the process of restoring the city could begin.

However, for now there was another task at hand. At the behest of Heralt Scott went in search of Jimothy's mother. The head priest needed to attend to the boy to make certain nothing untoward had happened during their absence from his side. Normally, the child would be taken to his home or to a hospital to rest, but during this time of crises he had to remain where he was.

A short time spent wandering through the small underground bunker led him to a weeping woman in the far back corner. Several women and a teenage boy were sitting nearby trying to console her.

Scott looked at the crying woman for a moment and noted that her features matched the description that Heralt had given him. He walked over to someone standing nearby but far enough away as not to disturb the distraught woman in case she was not who he sought. "Excuse me, can you tell me who she is?"

"Who she is? What's your problem? Don't like a woman crying?" asked the man in an overly loud tone that got everyone's attention anyway. "Huh? Want me to shut her up? Is that it?"

The dark haired man laughed strangely then pointed at Scott. "Is her grief upsetting you, fucker?"

He stared at the man. "No, I was trying to politely ask if you knew whether or not she had a child named Jimothy, but that didn't work out too damned well."

"Jimothy!" exclaimed the woman. She jumped up from her seat. "Have you seen my Jimmy?"

"Dark haired boy, about this tall?" asked Scott before he placed his hand at about hip height. He had no way of knowing if she was the only mother of a Jimothy in this place. There was no need to get her hopes up otherwise.

"Yes! Where did you see him! Is he alright?!" she asked before rushing over to Scott.

"He is now. When I brought him in, I had to take him to see the head priest." said Scott.

"My, my Jimothy... the priest. Heralt helped him? Was he dead?" asked the woman with fearful eyes.

Scott winced then nodded. "Yes, but he's fine now. He'll need to rest a few days though. I can take you to him."

"A few days... but the priest. No, was my poor little boy so bad off?" Her eyes widened for a moment and she acquired a fretful look.

Scott closed his eyes briefly then open them before unleashing a tired sigh. "Ma'am, I really don't think you want to know too much about that. Your son's here in the shelter, though."

Several of the gathered people looked like they were on the verge of tears. It was a wonderful thing to hear in this time of tragedy. Some of them had loved ones who were still out in the city.

He led Jimothy's mother to where her son rested, and Heralt greeted her warmly upon their arrival. "Tishe, your son has come home to you."

"My boy!" Tishe rushed over to the small body lying in repose on the table. Jimothy barely breathed at this point, but he did draw breath. It was far more than she had hoped.

A slow smile spread across Scott's lips as he watched her fuss about her son. On Earth such a thing would have been impossible. The tragic tale of Jimothy would have remained a tragedy. Here on ARS, there were chances that people could take. The terrible end need not be the only way of things, at least not every time.

Two hours passed after the reunion of Jimothy and his mother before the all-clear was signaled throughout the city. Once the invading army had withdrawn, the eldritch armor knights had lost their cohesion and tendency to form into groups. They had proven to be easy prey for the city militia to mop up while the army outside the shield did the same on the battlefield.

Scott spent those hours awash in local color. A few people stopped by to thank him for what he had done. A few others had asked whether or not he had seen anyone else. The time had passed and soon he realized that the better part of nine hours had occurred since his arrival in this world. He pulled his crysta-com from his pocket and checked the time. "Almost three in the morning..."

He moved to thank the head priest for all of his help that day then left with his reward. His contribution would be remembered, and Jimothy's mother was thankful. While neither of those things would directly fill his belly, they at least carried over into good will from both the local people and the city itself. That could only help his cause.

After his goodbyes had been said, Scott slipped out of the shelter and moved to a quiet area beyond the neighboring houses. Smoke rose high into the sky from various points in the city. The fire fighters and local militia would have to work overtime to end the fires and probably looting that was now happening throughout the town.

A scant few minutes passed and a strange warmth flowed through his skull, and then throughout his body. A happy laugh echoed through the landscape of his mind. "Scott!" exclaimed the welcome voice of his fairy BFF.

"Ero!" exclaimed Scott, happy at her return. A soft chittering sound near his feet garnered his attention next. He looked down and saw that Herbert had arrived as well. The little grassrat sported strange new attire. "Herbert, what's with the cape and the domino mask?"

The rodent stood up on his hindlegs and crossed his forepaws over his chest. Apparently, his attempt to look like a little badass was his only response.

Ero separated from Scott's mind then started to flutter around his head excitedly. "Scott! Scott! Scott-Scott!" cried the excited fairy.

He ended up spinning in place while he tried to follow her movements. It was not until she stopped that he finally saw what she wanted him to see. "Ero! You're wearing a dress."

A cute and cheerful laugh escaped her tiny lips. "Yes! Isn't it pretty? It's one of the powers that I can use in this world now that I've grown up a little and chosen a profession."

The dress in question was a gossamer gown that glowed and sparkled in the light. It was also sheer to the extent that it had a diaphanous appearance. In short, it was practically see-through.

"You gained the power to wear clothes?" asked Scott incredulously. He was not certain that such a power could exist in this world. Ero was almost as against the concept of clothing as the NRA was against arbitrary gun-control.

The adorable laugh returned. "No, no. I gained the power to spin spiderwebs, moonbeams, and dewdrops into cloth!"

"So, clothes." said Scott.

Ero sighed at him. "Such a boy response. I can do stuff! Cool Stuff. As my skill grows I can even weave larger items. Hello, get what I'm saying?"

Scott smiled at her. "Yes. You can make cool things."

"You don't get it." she pouted at him. "You wear light armor. Hello."

"Wait, you're saying you can make me clothes?" he asked curiously.

Ero's laugh returned once more. "Yes, and for Rhea, and Herbert. I can make them for myself as well. I'm a fairy dreamweaver now."

"That's great! My cute little fairy best friend took up a trade." said Scott.

She smiled sweetly at him for a moment then looked down, a slight redness appeared on her cheeks. "Don't tease me so much. I'm in a delicate way, you know."

"Of course I won't." said Scott before reaching up to give her a platform to stand on. Ero alighted atop his palm then brushed her hand along her generous curves. Her gossamer gown shimmered softly in response to the movement.

They smiled at each other for a moment then turned their attention to Herbert. He was still a baby grassrat, but he had chosen a path in life as well. Scott asked him. "Don't suppose you'll tell us if you have a profession now."

Herbert inclined his head then made a dynamic pose. Ero gasped then clapped her hands. "I see, he became a grassdancer."

"A grassdancer?" asked Scott. More to the point, Ero could tell such a thing?

"Yes, hold on. I'll translate." Ero turned to Herbert and asked him to explain his situation. Herbert moved in a series of dynamic dance moves then stopped chittered twice and waved one paw in the air.

"I see!" said Ero. She turned to Scott. "Since he is technically a guardian beast, he was allowed to choose one of the warrior professions of his people. He chose grassdancer, the grassrat version of a blade dancer."

"Oh, so he dance fights?" asked Scott. That sounded fairly cool.

Ero smiled warmly. "Yes! He fights using his natural agility and can use dance moves to bolster the party or demoralize the enemy."

"Hey, not bad Herbert!" said Scott cheerfully. The tiny dancer whirled around on the spot then moved his head to the left and then back to the right.

A strange sense of energy, and a desire to move, arose with the sorcerer upon seeing the dance-like movement of his tiny little friend. He felt more focused, more capable somehow.

"Oh wow, that was your special dance move, right?" asked Ero.

Herbert nodded then chittered merrily. Scott glanced to the little fairy and she explained the situation for him. Ero said, "Herbert has to develop his own dance style but he knows several basic moves. Stringing them together has allowed him to learn at least one dance already."

Ero waited for further clarification from the tiny dancer, and then said, "The move he just used was a short-form version of his Passionate Freestyle dance. It raises vitality and agility slightly based on his skill, and lasts for just a short time longer than he actually dances."

"That's a sweet deal Herbert." said Scott. A dancing grassrat, a fairy seamstress, a currently MIA goddess of love and reincarnation, and a sorcerer who looked like he had strayed from the circus. These were the people who might have to save the world at some point in the distant future. Weather dependent. Sunday journeys not preferred.