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Description
William ran quickly from one alleyway to another, looking constantly around him. He stopped for a moment as he rounded one corner, seeming to quietly speak to the air.

"You're still with me, Cal?" He asked, looking around the corner.

"Yep!" Came the cheerful response from the air he talked to; in truth, the child was invisible and in flight, but this was undetectable to any bystander.

"Good." Breathed William, motioning to the invisible child to follow him as he began to run again. "And keep quiet until we're alone, okay?" He added, already running.

The peacekeepers had been forced into retreat and hiding until such time as military action was taken. In the end, the church's illegal order had become a complete revolt against the state. As such, William was now a fugitive; he was a fugitive for miles he had yet to travel, that would take him to the placement of the city-states' main military headquarters.

William knew there wasn't too much point in going incognito to such an extent as he did – the church had promised monetary rewards for the one who brought Caliandros in, affiliated or not, so the possible enemies he hid from would reside even where he slept – but he had been trained for this, and his military habits were still sharp and near undeniable.

He ran two blocks on the city street, coming to a stop in front of larger building, identified as an inn by the sign over its door. Looking to the sky, he saw that the sun had begin to set, making a mental note of what this meant about the time, and entered.

"Who are you and what have you done with William?" Came the voice of Reina from behind him.

"What?" He asked in an uncharacteristically high tone, bewildered.

"You're not late." She replied, keeping a straight face.

"I'm about an hour early..." he stopped, and looked at Reina with disbelief. "How are you always everywhere before me?" He asked, in tones of curiosity long-resigned.

"I practice."

"What, really?"

"No."

***

William sighed, falling backwards onto his bed. "Alright, Cal, we're safe now." In turn, the child appeared, still floating in midair. Silence fell for a while, and William spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling. When he spoke again, it was in a more casual tone.

"Have you even been on the ground the last few hours?" He asked without looking up.

"Nope. It's kind of boring when you can fly." Replied Caliandros, idly drifting around in the air.

"I thought that the magical resonance built up the more you sustain it, though." Said William,seeming to pay no attention.

"What's that mean, uncle Will?" Asked Caliandros, tilting his head. "I don't know all these things like you do. I just can fly."

"Yeah, that's like you." Said William, scoffing and pausing for a moment before answering. "It just means it should get harder to fly the more you do it."

"Oh." The blonde child descended to the floor with a slight thud, and walked over to the one he called uncle. "You've been lying there for a while, Uncle Will." He said, sounding a bit worried.

"I'm just tired." Came the sullen reply, almost a monotone. William was still staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. "It's no real problem." Sighing, he sat up, and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. "I'm going to go ask Reina about our... traveling plans." In truth, he paused because the last two words were merely placeholders; he had no idea what he meant to talk about with Reina. Regardless, he stood and left the room.

Reina was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with a knowing expression. "Tired." She stated satirically, looking at William.

"Close enough." He replied, shaking his head. "I don't think he gets contempt."

"Fair enough." She said with a shrug. "You do have to admit you're not doing too well, though."

"Not really," he retorted, "I'm never really cheerful anyways."

"That's a pretty pathetic excuse." She muttered; William knew it was true, at least when made to her. "How about back at the base?"

William almost spoke, but hesitated. For all his years of knowing Reina, her practical approach to things of any sort never ceased to give him pause. "I acted in self-defense." He said, settling on an argument.

"You used unnecessary force."

"I killed them like I would've-"

"You used unnecessary force, William." She repeated, more strongly this time. "You were pissed, " She said, staring at him. "Even if you acted the same." She stopped, still staring at William, and looked away as she spoke again. "How many did you kill in that last group?"

He hesitated, and didn't even bother to answer after hesitating – he knew it was a test, and he had failed it. Reina knew the signs of his rage, the difference in the feeling of murder – justified or no. "Fine." He muttered, tightening his hand into a fist unconsciously. "And what do you want done about it?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't hope for anything while you remain this grudgingly closed, Will." She stood, pushing away from the wall she leaned on, and began to walk back to her room. "Don't let it get to you too much, at least." William spoke again, and she stopped.

"Doesn't it... get to you too?" He asked quietly, almost whispering.

"I guess," She answered, her expression subtly sympathetic. "but I don't brood like you do."

"He's your son..." He said, casting his gaze at the floor. "Don't you want to do a bit more than just protect him in a time like this?"

"Sometimes," she replied, "but that's not how I work. I'm simple like that – I work with the practical. I get angry, yeah, but I get over it." She paused, and spoke again in an even softer tone. "And I know it doesn't work like that for everyone, Will. You hide it under your general nature most of the time, but I can see that it still hurts."

William was silent.

"Like you said, Will, he's my son. And, you know, his father was my husband. I can understand, even if it doesn't affect me now." She paused, and spoke again in a slightly more cheerful tone. "He calls you uncle, but I think it'd have worked just fine if he called you dad, really."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "The sympathy's one thing," he said, "but I don't think I'd make a very good dad."

"Neither did I," Replied Reina, pausing for emphasis. "At first."

William let out a chuckle, smiling and brightening visibly, if slightly. "Say what you like."

"I will." She replied. She began to walk away, and stopped in her tracks. "Oh," she said, turning back to William. "Adrian wanted to ask you about something."

"What is it?"

"Go ask for yourself," she said, "I'll take care of Cal."

"Alright." And with that, William headed down the hallway to the room where Adrian resided.

***

"So on-hand, you can only get a single inscription on each side of a given sword." Said William, sounding uncertain.

"That's right." Replied Adrian, looking at the blade placed in front of him. "If I was at my place, I could probably manage one across the hilt and two on each side. Two per sword will have to do, though."

"Alright." William paused, looking over the scroll Adrian had provided him. "Does durability let the sword keep the edge better, too?"

"Yes," Said the runesmith; his tone was tired as it always was, but a hint of enthusiasm had snuck into it. "The magic constantly refines the shape when put under significant pressure. It'll wear away gradually, but it's not at any risk of combat damage."

"Velocity?"

"Builds up magically enhanced velocity in a shorter swing. Often a bit overwhelming at first, I've heard."

"Okay..." William picked up the sword, examining its edge. "Velocity and durability for this one, then." He concluded, handing the sword over to Adrian. "Durability and Lightness for the other one."

"Different physical runes for each..." Adrian pondered, taking the first sword. "Won't that throw your rhythm off?" He asked, examining the blade.

"I don't need a rhythm." Said William, shrugging. "I've got pretty good co-ordination."

"Fair enough." The gray-haired man shrugged, and placed the blade back down. He reached into a his pocket, and produced what appeared to the detached handle of a sword, lacking a guard.

Next, he placed his hand firmly on the side of the blade, and closed his eyes. A few seconds passed, then a minute, and then a few more minutes; William still remained silent, trusting the process.

He was right to; the next instant the runesmith's fingers began to glow. Slowly and deliberately, he removed his glowing hand from the sword, and began to write on it delicately with a single finger, leaving an inscription glowing brightly. Turning the blade over, he repeated the process, leaving another glowing rune on the other side.

And suddenly, he slammed the strange handle-like tool into the sword's side, creating a bright magical flare. When it faded, he did the same to the other side of the blade, and promptly handed it back to William.

The blade was still trailing multicoloured smoke; the magical symbols were only beginning to lose their glow. William took it back automatically, looking at it quizzically.

"Well?" Said Adrian. "Test it out."

William paused a moment before doing so – looking at Adrian, it was amazing how his demeanour had changed. He was almost famous for being able to seem exhausted and unstable near-perpetually, a fact that, in retrospect, coincided with the fact that he always worked alone and out of sight. Yet now, he was focused, a stark enthusiasm. He seemed calm and confident in his work, and even his smaller tics (such as his tendency to blink his corrupted eye) seemed to be less common and prominent.

"Aren't you going to try?" William snapped out of his thoughts, realizing Adrian was still talking.

"Oh, yeah." Idly, he gave the sword a light swing, noticing nothing. He began to swing repeatedly, building up momentum from each stroke before the next.

And, to his surprise, the blade began to leave small magical trails in its wake. To his even further and almost violent surprise, the sword itself resisted him when he attempted to cease the swing. He fumbled with it for a moment as he finally halted it, managing to catch it before it fell.

"Other sword." Said Adrian, seeming not to notice. William handed it over almost automatically, still examining the already-modified blade critically.

Adrian set to work, placing his hands on the blade, repeating the process.

***

"Gather the nearest unit, then, and have them report to me. We're moving out."

"Yes, sir."

The priest was smiling now. He had undergone humiliation in the form of a defeat both unlikely and crushing, but vengeance was at hand.

The woman who had defeated him made two mistakes: first, she failed to finish the job.

Second, she had left alive a high inquisitor of the church. These two mistakes, in combination, would lead him to the aspect and with him, his previous attackers. He was acting under the jurisdiction of the church right now, and so it was within both his power and his intent to make the two who had humiliated him suffer.

He could hear organized marching coming from down the street. A full unit consisted of sixty people, and his order had been perfectly executed.

The inquisitor grinned. It was time for revenge.

***

William awoke, reorienting himself with his surroundings quickly before jumping out of bed and grabbing his swords.

Next, he attempted to figure out the situation – his combat reflexes were generally accurate, but his ordinary perception lacked similar refinement. This time, however, it was clear what the problem was – he could hear loud marching coming from outside the building.

Rushing into the hallway, he found Reina there, already waiting for him. Shortly after, Adrian came out into the hallway. William looked to see if Caliandros was awake, and the child promptly appeared in front of him.

"They've probably found us." Said William, looking to Reina. "I'm not sure if we can get out in time."

Reina nodded. "Can you tell how many?" She asked.

"No." This meant, she knew, that there were too many of them to handle –William had, on request, picked out fifteen as a number of approaching people before by ear.

"I can check-" Adrian was cut off by William.

"If they're thorough enough to track us, they're definitely going to be looking in the window." He said grimly. "This one's gonna be a bit difficult."

Silence fell for a moment, but in the face of the approaching men, it had to be a short one. "We can wait until they're coming up and then jump a window." Said William, his tone uncertain.

"We might have to." Said Reina.

***

At the lower floor of the inn, one man sat, cursing at the sound of the approaching men. Commotion of the sort, he had found, generally included hasty overreaction and pointless zeal – perceived acts of heroism that caused harm far greater than the benefit was worth.

The worst part, however, was that he was sober right now, which made it frustratingly hard to ignore everything. These sorts of things, he thought, probably helped his hair on its way to an entirely grey shade.

The men approached, and he caught a glimpse of them before they entered. They bore the markings of the church, and this was basis enough for the man to take precautionary action.

Still sitting at his chair, he traced an intricate symbol with both hands, and the door was obstructed completely by an opaque white field.

"Okay, hold on a sec, all of you." The man announced sarcastically. "Could any of you tell me exactly what you're doing?"

The response was uproarious, but incoherent, as all of the soldier-priests attempted to get their word in as strongly as possible. The cacophony died, however, as they split apart to let the inquisitor through.

"We're here," He declared with malice, "To take what we've been ordered to."

"And that is?" The older man asked, showing no signs of action.

"A child who may be an aspect has fled the testing." The priest stated, his tone becoming impatient. "As an aspect's potential is-"

"Let me cut you off there: no." Said the sitting man, his tone flaring with irritation. "I'm not going to sum it up, but suffice to say I don't agree with the church's views on this matter. And," he added, "I don't particularly respect them either."

"You don't need to." Stated the inquisitor, drawing a magic rune over the forcefield. The rune quickly produced a burst of bright light...

And the wall remained, glowing brighter for a moment before returning to normal.

"I think that my agreement in the matter is just as important as yours." Said the man, smiling. "And I'm willing to argue that side very thoroughly." The inquisitor, shocked, remained silent a moment before speaking again.

"Who are you?" He asked slowly, still awed.

In response, the man stood up, revealing his garb. He was tall, and he was no longer slouching to hide it. Likewise, at full height, the dilapidation of his clothing no longer concealed what they were: the formal wear of an archmage. "Hey!" he shouted upstairs, ignoring the men outside. "Whoever it is up there these guys are after, it's safe to come down!"

William came down the stairs quickly, with both swords drawn. He stopped as he saw the situation, and in turn also shouted up. "Hey, we're actually safe!" He yelled, and the other three also came down.

For a moment, the mage ignored both parties, tracing a large symbol on the ground. As it glowed, he began to trace many smaller symbols which would attract energy from their larger counterparts, redirecting it seemingly at random. Finally, he drew one symbol above his head, detailing it until it seemed simply to become an orb of light. At this final symbol, the energy condensed shot spiralling through the roof, ignoring its material presence. Above the inn, thunder crashed and resounded repeatedly.

Finishing, he sighed and stepped away, facing the door as rain began to fall outside. "I'm Melanthys. Nice you meet you all."

Description
William ran quickly from one alleyway to another, looking constantly around him. He stopped for a moment as he rounded one corner, seeming to quietly speak to the air.

"You're still with me, Cal?" He asked, looking around the corner.

"Yep!" Came the cheerful response from the air he talked to; in truth, the child was invisible and in flight, but this was undetectable to any bystander.

"Good." Breathed William, motioning to the invisible child to follow him as he began to run again. "And keep quiet until we're alone, okay?" He added, already running.

The peacekeepers had been forced into retreat and hiding until such time as military action was taken. In the end, the church's illegal order had become a complete revolt against the state. As such, William was now a fugitive; he was a fugitive for miles he had yet to travel, that would take him to the placement of the city-states' main military headquarters.

William knew there wasn't too much point in going incognito to such an extent as he did – the church had promised monetary rewards for the one who brought Caliandros in, affiliated or not, so the possible enemies he hid from would reside even where he slept – but he had been trained for this, and his military habits were still sharp and near undeniable.

He ran two blocks on the city street, coming to a stop in front of larger building, identified as an inn by the sign over its door. Looking to the sky, he saw that the sun had begin to set, making a mental note of what this meant about the time, and entered.

"Who are you and what have you done with William?" Came the voice of Reina from behind him.

"What?" He asked in an uncharacteristically high tone, bewildered.

"You're not late." She replied, keeping a straight face.

"I'm about an hour early..." he stopped, and looked at Reina with disbelief. "How are you always everywhere before me?" He asked, in tones of curiosity long-resigned.

"I practice."

"What, really?"

"No."

***

William sighed, falling backwards onto his bed. "Alright, Cal, we're safe now." In turn, the child appeared, still floating in midair. Silence fell for a while, and William spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling. When he spoke again, it was in a more casual tone.

"Have you even been on the ground the last few hours?" He asked without looking up.

"Nope. It's kind of boring when you can fly." Replied Caliandros, idly drifting around in the air.

"I thought that the magical resonance built up the more you sustain it, though." Said William,seeming to pay no attention.

"What's that mean, uncle Will?" Asked Caliandros, tilting his head. "I don't know all these things like you do. I just can fly."

"Yeah, that's like you." Said William, scoffing and pausing for a moment before answering. "It just means it should get harder to fly the more you do it."

"Oh." The blonde child descended to the floor with a slight thud, and walked over to the one he called uncle. "You've been lying there for a while, Uncle Will." He said, sounding a bit worried.

"I'm just tired." Came the sullen reply, almost a monotone. William was still staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. "It's no real problem." Sighing, he sat up, and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. "I'm going to go ask Reina about our... traveling plans." In truth, he paused because the last two words were merely placeholders; he had no idea what he meant to talk about with Reina. Regardless, he stood and left the room.

Reina was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with a knowing expression. "Tired." She stated satirically, looking at William.

"Close enough." He replied, shaking his head. "I don't think he gets contempt."

"Fair enough." She said with a shrug. "You do have to admit you're not doing too well, though."

"Not really," he retorted, "I'm never really cheerful anyways."

"That's a pretty pathetic excuse." She muttered; William knew it was true, at least when made to her. "How about back at the base?"

William almost spoke, but hesitated. For all his years of knowing Reina, her practical approach to things of any sort never ceased to give him pause. "I acted in self-defense." He said, settling on an argument.

"You used unnecessary force."

"I killed them like I would've-"

"You used unnecessary force, William." She repeated, more strongly this time. "You were pissed, " She said, staring at him. "Even if you acted the same." She stopped, still staring at William, and looked away as she spoke again. "How many did you kill in that last group?"

He hesitated, and didn't even bother to answer after hesitating – he knew it was a test, and he had failed it. Reina knew the signs of his rage, the difference in the feeling of murder – justified or no. "Fine." He muttered, tightening his hand into a fist unconsciously. "And what do you want done about it?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't hope for anything while you remain this grudgingly closed, Will." She stood, pushing away from the wall she leaned on, and began to walk back to her room. "Don't let it get to you too much, at least." William spoke again, and she stopped.

"Doesn't it... get to you too?" He asked quietly, almost whispering.

"I guess," She answered, her expression subtly sympathetic. "but I don't brood like you do."

"He's your son..." He said, casting his gaze at the floor. "Don't you want to do a bit more than just protect him in a time like this?"

"Sometimes," she replied, "but that's not how I work. I'm simple like that – I work with the practical. I get angry, yeah, but I get over it." She paused, and spoke again in an even softer tone. "And I know it doesn't work like that for everyone, Will. You hide it under your general nature most of the time, but I can see that it still hurts."

William was silent.

"Like you said, Will, he's my son. And, you know, his father was my husband. I can understand, even if it doesn't affect me now." She paused, and spoke again in a slightly more cheerful tone. "He calls you uncle, but I think it'd have worked just fine if he called you dad, really."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "The sympathy's one thing," he said, "but I don't think I'd make a very good dad."

"Neither did I," Replied Reina, pausing for emphasis. "At first."

William let out a chuckle, smiling and brightening visibly, if slightly. "Say what you like."

"I will." She replied. She began to walk away, and stopped in her tracks. "Oh," she said, turning back to William. "Adrian wanted to ask you about something."

"What is it?"

"Go ask for yourself," she said, "I'll take care of Cal."

"Alright." And with that, William headed down the hallway to the room where Adrian resided.

***

"So on-hand, you can only get a single inscription on each side of a given sword." Said William, sounding uncertain.

"That's right." Replied Adrian, looking at the blade placed in front of him. "If I was at my place, I could probably manage one across the hilt and two on each side. Two per sword will have to do, though."

"Alright." William paused, looking over the scroll Adrian had provided him. "Does durability let the sword keep the edge better, too?"

"Yes," Said the runesmith; his tone was tired as it always was, but a hint of enthusiasm had snuck into it. "The magic constantly refines the shape when put under significant pressure. It'll wear away gradually, but it's not at any risk of combat damage."

"Velocity?"

"Builds up magically enhanced velocity in a shorter swing. Often a bit overwhelming at first, I've heard."

"Okay..." William picked up the sword, examining its edge. "Velocity and durability for this one, then." He concluded, handing the sword over to Adrian. "Durability and Lightness for the other one."

"Different physical runes for each..." Adrian pondered, taking the first sword. "Won't that throw your rhythm off?" He asked, examining the blade.

"I don't need a rhythm." Said William, shrugging. "I've got pretty good co-ordination."

"Fair enough." The gray-haired man shrugged, and placed the blade back down. He reached into a his pocket, and produced what appeared to the detached handle of a sword, lacking a guard.

Next, he placed his hand firmly on the side of the blade, and closed his eyes. A few seconds passed, then a minute, and then a few more minutes; William still remained silent, trusting the process.

He was right to; the next instant the runesmith's fingers began to glow. Slowly and deliberately, he removed his glowing hand from the sword, and began to write on it delicately with a single finger, leaving an inscription glowing brightly. Turning the blade over, he repeated the process, leaving another glowing rune on the other side.

And suddenly, he slammed the strange handle-like tool into the sword's side, creating a bright magical flare. When it faded, he did the same to the other side of the blade, and promptly handed it back to William.

The blade was still trailing multicoloured smoke; the magical symbols were only beginning to lose their glow. William took it back automatically, looking at it quizzically.

"Well?" Said Adrian. "Test it out."

William paused a moment before doing so – looking at Adrian, it was amazing how his demeanour had changed. He was almost famous for being able to seem exhausted and unstable near-perpetually, a fact that, in retrospect, coincided with the fact that he always worked alone and out of sight. Yet now, he was focused, a stark enthusiasm. He seemed calm and confident in his work, and even his smaller tics (such as his tendency to blink his corrupted eye) seemed to be less common and prominent.

"Aren't you going to try?" William snapped out of his thoughts, realizing Adrian was still talking.

"Oh, yeah." Idly, he gave the sword a light swing, noticing nothing. He began to swing repeatedly, building up momentum from each stroke before the next.

And, to his surprise, the blade began to leave small magical trails in its wake. To his even further and almost violent surprise, the sword itself resisted him when he attempted to cease the swing. He fumbled with it for a moment as he finally halted it, managing to catch it before it fell.

"Other sword." Said Adrian, seeming not to notice. William handed it over almost automatically, still examining the already-modified blade critically.

Adrian set to work, placing his hands on the blade, repeating the process.

***

"Gather the nearest unit, then, and have them report to me. We're moving out."

"Yes, sir."

The priest was smiling now. He had undergone humiliation in the form of a defeat both unlikely and crushing, but vengeance was at hand.

The woman who had defeated him made two mistakes: first, she failed to finish the job.

Second, she had left alive a high inquisitor of the church. These two mistakes, in combination, would lead him to the aspect and with him, his previous attackers. He was acting under the jurisdiction of the church right now, and so it was within both his power and his intent to make the two who had humiliated him suffer.

He could hear organized marching coming from down the street. A full unit consisted of sixty people, and his order had been perfectly executed.

The inquisitor grinned. It was time for revenge.

***

William awoke, reorienting himself with his surroundings quickly before jumping out of bed and grabbing his swords.

Next, he attempted to figure out the situation – his combat reflexes were generally accurate, but his ordinary perception lacked similar refinement. This time, however, it was clear what the problem was – he could hear loud marching coming from outside the building.

Rushing into the hallway, he found Reina there, already waiting for him. Shortly after, Adrian came out into the hallway. William looked to see if Caliandros was awake, and the child promptly appeared in front of him.

"They've probably found us." Said William, looking to Reina. "I'm not sure if we can get out in time."

Reina nodded. "Can you tell how many?" She asked.

"No." This meant, she knew, that there were too many of them to handle –William had, on request, picked out fifteen as a number of approaching people before by ear.

"I can check-" Adrian was cut off by William.

"If they're thorough enough to track us, they're definitely going to be looking in the window." He said grimly. "This one's gonna be a bit difficult."

Silence fell for a moment, but in the face of the approaching men, it had to be a short one. "We can wait until they're coming up and then jump a window." Said William, his tone uncertain.

"We might have to." Said Reina.

***

At the lower floor of the inn, one man sat, cursing at the sound of the approaching men. Commotion of the sort, he had found, generally included hasty overreaction and pointless zeal – perceived acts of heroism that caused harm far greater than the benefit was worth.

The worst part, however, was that he was sober right now, which made it frustratingly hard to ignore everything. These sorts of things, he thought, probably helped his hair on its way to an entirely grey shade.

The men approached, and he caught a glimpse of them before they entered. They bore the markings of the church, and this was basis enough for the man to take precautionary action.

Still sitting at his chair, he traced an intricate symbol with both hands, and the door was obstructed completely by an opaque white field.

"Okay, hold on a sec, all of you." The man announced sarcastically. "Could any of you tell me exactly what you're doing?"

The response was uproarious, but incoherent, as all of the soldier-priests attempted to get their word in as strongly as possible. The cacophony died, however, as they split apart to let the inquisitor through.

"We're here," He declared with malice, "To take what we've been ordered to."

"And that is?" The older man asked, showing no signs of action.

"A child who may be an aspect has fled the testing." The priest stated, his tone becoming impatient. "As an aspect's potential is-"

"Let me cut you off there: no." Said the sitting man, his tone flaring with irritation. "I'm not going to sum it up, but suffice to say I don't agree with the church's views on this matter. And," he added, "I don't particularly respect them either."

"You don't need to." Stated the inquisitor, drawing a magic rune over the forcefield. The rune quickly produced a burst of bright light...

And the wall remained, glowing brighter for a moment before returning to normal.

"I think that my agreement in the matter is just as important as yours." Said the man, smiling. "And I'm willing to argue that side very thoroughly." The inquisitor, shocked, remained silent a moment before speaking again.

"Who are you?" He asked slowly, still awed.

In response, the man stood up, revealing his garb. He was tall, and he was no longer slouching to hide it. Likewise, at full height, the dilapidation of his clothing no longer concealed what they were: the formal wear of an archmage. "Hey!" he shouted upstairs, ignoring the men outside. "Whoever it is up there these guys are after, it's safe to come down!"

William came down the stairs quickly, with both swords drawn. He stopped as he saw the situation, and in turn also shouted up. "Hey, we're actually safe!" He yelled, and the other three also came down.

For a moment, the mage ignored both parties, tracing a large symbol on the ground. As it glowed, he began to trace many smaller symbols which would attract energy from their larger counterparts, redirecting it seemingly at random. Finally, he drew one symbol above his head, detailing it until it seemed simply to become an orb of light. At this final symbol, the energy condensed shot spiralling through the roof, ignoring its material presence. Above the inn, thunder crashed and resounded repeatedly.

Finishing, he sighed and stepped away, facing the door as rain began to fall outside. "I'm Melanthys. Nice you meet you all."