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*****

The storm that had ravaged Clockwork and the surrounding forests had ebbed, travelling northwest and taking its raging lightning and resounding thunder with it. Still visible from the distance, it lit up the sky with flashes of purple and white; a constant reminder of what had almost occurred on the streets of the city.

The gloom that the storm had brought did not leave the city. Incendius had fallen into its state of 'night' where the Sun Spire far to the north had dimmed. The skies still remained a constant dark purple, a perpetual twilight. It was the closest anyone could ever get to true night on the Station of the Sun without wandering into the blistering cold of the Southern Frostenlands or beyond the icy gate of Chillfarn where the Darkened resided.

A chill wind blew high up on the clock tower's balcony. Harm Chronos peered down onto the streets where tents had been erected for the countless non-humans that had camped at the base of the clock tower, singing songs and laughing. Their camaraderie was inspiring if a little misguided. If only they knew that Novallier was several blocks away, sleeping in his feathered bed, deaf to their cries of injustice.

The Wulfun predicted that slight deception would cost Novallier's campaign to unite the Station some ground. Indeed, the Apex Clericus Solis stationed Custodia Solis within the clock tower to maintain the illusion and the gala was to be held within the same building but Harm questioned how a leader could preach unification when he stood above the masses and not with them.

Soft footfalls rang clearly even amongst the united cries of the non-humans below. They were cautious, filled partially with confidence but tainted with hesitance. The soft fump the soles made against the stone steps of the clock tower indicated the shoes worn were not the steel-framed belonging to Aria.

Only one other person could have fit the profile.

"It is late, my lady," he said without turning his head. "You'll have preparations to make for the gala just like your father. You should rest."

Yulanda stopped at the door leading onto the balcony. "You have much to prepare for as well, Lord Chronos. As my father would attest, I am quite the handful."

"How can I remain dutifully at your side when I am asleep?"

"Touché." She approached quietly, coming to lean beside him with a respectable distance between them. "Is it true what they say about Chronomancers? You cannot sleep. You cannot eat. Any injury you suffer will heal almost instantaneously?"

The gentle smile on Harm's face caught the distant light, giving him an almost sinister appearance. "When a Chronomancer becomes Time Locked, certain parts of their bodies are frozen in that same moment in time. The only thing unbound is our memories and we continue to retain and learn what we experience."

His golden eyes switched to meet her brown orbs. "So in summary, yes. I cannot sleep because I was frozen in a state of waking. I cannot eat because should I try, the food will leap out of my stomach from one orifice or another. If it can't find one, it'll tear a hole through my gut to get out. The only advantage is that when I am sliced to pieces, I will just return so long as I have the faintest sliver of my time left."

"Your time?"

Harm chuckled softly. "How does the Illuminus Weizar work?"

She inclined her head to the side, casting a suspicious gaze at him. "The Illuminus Weizar is the language that binds all existence, granted to us by the Mother Goddess Athena. It is the foundation of magic."

"Yes, but how is it that we use that to alter existence?"

Yulanda glanced down at the masses of non-humans staging their protest far below. She lifted her right palm into the air as if reaching out for someone far in the distance. "Ignis creatis atrium: pluma Ignis." A flame erupted at her fingertips. Turning her palm skyward, the flame coalesced into the shape of a single, red feather that danced on her palm by its stem.

"The Illuminus Weizar draws energy from us to manifest our wishes as defined by the commands in the Weizar that we give. We can manifest these words in three ways: Runic arts allows us to physically imbue the words into an object, writing them onto sheets of paper, weapons or whatever else will have you. It is the quickest way to use magic but is restrictive to the words imbued in the artefact and the intentions of the one who built the construct. Symbolic arts allows us to move our hands in references to the Weizar. These hand signs are 'short-cuts' developed by mortals to the Weizar. They are not as quick as Runic arts but offer more flexibility in that they are open to interpretation and where one is bound to the words and instructions on Runic artefacts, one can leave the words moulded by Symbolic arts as one wishes, having entirely different meanings despite another's interpretation."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Lastly, there is the Glyphic arts that allows us to speak the words of the Weizar itself. This is the slowest form of manifesting the Weizar as it is open to interruption. Loss of focus can easily lead to the cancellation of a spell and the Weizar is incredibly extensive, meaning one's power is bound by one's knowledge of millions of words. However, it is the most flexible as it can literally alter matter and the world as long as one knows the words."

Harm kept his gaze on her, a gentle smile on his face.

A light blushed touched the young girl's cheeks and she brushed back her raven hair. "Is there something on my face?"

"An awfully transparent attempt to impress me," he answered. "Tell me, Yulanda, am I correct in assuming that it was you who convinced your father to hand guardianship over your safety to me?"

She held her head high, defiant. "That was my father's decision."

"Ultimately. However, I take you for one of those people who doesn't like the feeling of authority chaining them down." He jabbed a finger at her blushing cheeks, causing her to reel away. "Why would you want a millennium-old Chronomancer who you've seen firsthand slaughter twenty-one well-armed, well-trained people to guard you?" He lowered his paw but lifted his eyebrows. "Or am I just another 'challenge' to you?"

Yulanda's smile began bashful, perhaps even a little flirtatious. She slid towards him, wrapping her long, thin fingers around his bicep. "Perhaps it takes a millennium-old Chronomancer to finally tame my wild spirit."

Their eyes met. Gravity pulled their faces towards one another. Her velvety lips began to pucker...

"Not buying it."

Just for good measure, he flicked her forehead.

"Ouch!" she cried, pulling away. The shock caused her to drop the feather in her hand.

"What do you want, Yulanda?" he demanded.

Her face read as 'incredulous' but her body language spoke of desperation. "Isn't it obvious? I want you, Lord Harm. Only one of noble birth could -"

He silenced her with a lifted paw. "Save it." His glare petrified her and the pretence she hoped to maintain crumbled with the blustery wind. "You have no intention of ever settling down with anyone. Honestly, I'm rather disappointed that you would go so far as to try and seduce me to get what you want."

While her false face dissipated into the air, a steely, firm and focused expression came to replace it. Every part of her firmly pressed lips lost all humour. The slight squint in her eyes hardened, leaving her brown irises unblinking. Even her raven hair seemed to harden, stubbornly returning to their perfect, ebony waterfall when the winds gave up trying to cast her hair into disarray.

"What makes you think you know me, Lord Chronos?" she demanded.

Challenge eagerly accepted.

Harm leaned one arm against the railings, peering into her very soul with his golden eyes. "Despite knowing the dangers your capture could pose to your father's position, you still travelled into the streets with your helpless little brother. This speaks of your eagerness to defy your father's orders. In fact, judging by the fact that you are now dressed in what many would call a dominatrix's outfit and that you were dressed in finery but an hour ago, I'm willing to wager that you are so eager to scrub all trace of your father's influence from you that you would even burn the finery he forced you to wear when he ordered you to attend the meeting after you negotiated my guardianship over you."

Her eyes sprang up in surprise and she gave a begrudging nod to the side. "I did not 'burn' it. The fireplace did." For a moment, her voice sounded defensive, tart and almost childish. "My dress tumbled into the flames. Was I expected to stand still while I burned?"

"Don't dismiss getting being burned to a crisp as something awful," the Chronomancer answered. "If you ever have an itch that needs scratching, burning it off is a surprisingly effective way to get to it."

"I shall take that under consideration." Yulanda sucked in a lungful of air through clenched teeth. "What else can you tell about me?"

Harm rubbed his chin theatrically, peering into the camp fires far below. "The role of Apex Clericus Solis is passed on down to the eldest child. Novallier wants you to assume that role. For some reason, the crown of being the most influential person in Incendius is too small for you. You have dreams of grandeur and glory that cannot be fulfilled by swaying the people's hearts and managing an entire Station's assets."

"My father is nothing more than a figurehead!" she barked, slamming her palm against the railings. "Did you see how he hoped to solve the issue? By throwing a gala! The role of the High Priest of the Sun was once filled with tales of bravery and intrigue!" She spun, sweeping her hands wide at the clock tower. "Where have the days gone where an Apex would charge out in front of the lines of battle, drawing a blade of true fire and leading his armies against the forces that would see the light of the Sun Spire extinguished? We should be amassing our forces and charging beyond Chillfarn to end the Darkened so the Custodia Lupus don't have to stand freezing their tails off in the Southern Frostenlands or the Custodia Vampiri don't have to spend lifetimes practicing the arts of Light Magic against no one!

"At the very least, we should be bringing light to the rest of the Station! The Sun Spire only reaches so far and there are the Sunless Lands beyond the ocean's horizon! Brothers and sisters across the seas wallow in darkness while we bask in the sun! How is that fair?"

The Wulfun turned his gaze far into the distance, towards the north where the Sun Spire was but a distant star that illuminated the horizon. "Our world is hardly fair. The demons of the 12th Station, Wrath, had their home destroyed because they opposed the Church. Now they are doomed to travel the Void in the broken shards of their Station. The Chronomancers of Temporal weren't given a clean death. If fact, they aren't dead. Instead, they are impaled on countless Spears of Longinus on their home Station in masses, forever lingering with a sliver of energy left. Right now, they are fully aware, completely in agony and every now and then, their bodies would spasm in agony. That's why the area where they are congregated is called the 'Twitching Wood'."

Harm nodded towards the north, towards the Sun Spire. "On Incendius, humans hold the Sun Spire which has become the centre of belief for the entire Station." He flicked his ears towards the south. "Werewolves freeze in the Southern Frostenlands against the Darkened who hide in the shadows and are consumed by their hatred for the light. Vampires plot and scheme against one another in the caves of Mirecragg while others across the seas wander in the darkness, looking towards the sun that they know to be there but they will never touch."

His eyes turned towards Yulanda. "The world is not fair, Yulanda. The reason for that is because of the balance that is formed from the imbalance. We have a status quo based on purpose. A tenuous one but one that keeps us all from ripping each other's throats." The Wulfun gazed towards the protestors far below, hiking his chin in their direction. "Everyone is given a purpose and it is only those who get really bored or greedy that turn on one another. The Lupus defend us from the Darkened. The Vampiri keep the lore and legends of Incendius. The humans rule. The Darkened seethe.

"Valk has raised awareness and the opportunistic Dawn's Champion has attempted to seize your father by his balls but will it change anything?"

Harm shook his head and pointed towards the sky, towards the thousands of stars that milled about and moved ever so slowly across the skies. Some twinkled with the light of the Incendian starships. Others remained stoic, the light of the buoys that helped guide the ships through the tumultuous embrace of the Void. "The Church ultimately holds all the power. Even should Valk somehow overthrow your father and seize the Sun Spire, nothing will stop the Inquisition from calling down Ultimo Judicio."

Yulanda's back straightened like a board, her lips pursing together to form a thin line. "They would never..."

"The Inquisition called down Judicio on Wrath. They nearly called it on Temporal." He turned towards her, a frown erasing his smile. "They will not hesitate to bombard this entire Station and rip it to shreds. It doesn't matter if it is from demonic corruption, heresy or a misguided sense of justice. Give them a reason, and men like Warton will not hesitate to use every weapon in their arsenal to wipe this Station clean. This event will be wiped from the Church's records. Come centuries from now, Incendius will merely be repopulated and the people will live on atop the ashes of the previous civilization, oblivious to the cause but vaguely aware of the reason."

Her lips quivered in defiance. "So are you telling me to live with the cruel, unfair 'balance' that subjugates the weak, weakens the strong into complacency and fuels the hatred of our enemies!?"

Harm's smile returned, a sinister edge appearing on his lips. "No." He straightened, peering down at her, his eyes filled with mirth like he was mocking her. "I'm saying that if you want to make the world 'fair' don't do what Valk is doing and make a big scene about it. If you want to change the world..." He bent down, his muzzle mere inches away from her ear.

"... don't get caught."

His paw gripped her right shoulder.

"Tomorrow, outside the city's gates. At dusk. Bring Sun Dancer."

*****

Clockwork's clock tower was more of a community centre than a true clock tower. Forever Time Locked, it was indestructible thanks to the arts of Chronomancy. The decorations and modifications for the gala were not made so much in the clock tower itself. Instead, they were either attached or conveniently placed over it. The clock tower rejected any true alterations to its face or to its interior.

That said, there were ways to circumvent the laws of Time Magic. Ways that Harm Chronos knew too well.

He watched the workers apply decorations to the white marble pillars of the clock tower and merely attached them to the columns, never truly altering the face; merely covering them. When holes needed to be drilled into the walls to hang banners, enough damage was done that it would take time for the clock tower to regenerate itself. The rate of healing was proportionate to the amount of damage done with more damage slowing the rate of regeneration while lighter damage would heal almost instantaneously. Modifications thus had to be done in bulk and that involved a lot of workers.

Most of them non-human.

"Don't you find it sort of hypocritical that Novallier would encourage unity and equality when he uses so many non-human workers to do such menial tasks?"

King Leandros ran a massive paw over the large, ice-blue and black iron throne that had been reserved for himself. The ballroom had been transformed into an audience chamber of sorts where nobles and dignitaries would filter in and make their concerns publically heard. Beside Leandros' throne was a plain, wooden chair gilded with gold reserved just for Valk. On the row of seven seats, Valk's was the farthest from Novallier's which sat on the opposite edge, tall, studded with rubies and coloured with the red and gold of Incendius. Novallier had seats for Tynvandar and Yulanda as well. One seat coloured white, black and red remained for Phalgymr, King of the Vampiri.

Harm tapped the golden armrest of his own seat, positioned directly beside Yulanda's, awaiting Leandro's reply.

"Valk and his people have as much to gain from this as Novallier does," Leandros rumbled, grunting in disgust at his chair. "Neither side wishes for bloodshed but both must be heard. I pray to the Mother Goddess that their cries do not drown out the screams of the people they represent."

"I guess it depends on what they're screaming about," Harm answered, pushing off the grandest throne on the dais. It was even taller than Novallier's and marked with the enigmatic handless clock face of the Chronomancers.

Those within the Church knew of his rank as the adopted brother of the Propheticus Primoris and naturally associated his agelessness with Lumire's. They knew that he trained Paladins and Templars. But none of them truly knew he was a Chronomancer. Many suspected and those he taught knew. It was a rite of passage for them. Should they learn of his origins and not slaughter him on sight, they were worth tutoring further. But to the average Custodia and worshiper, he was an enigma.

Many saw him as a charity case. Lumire's attempt to placate the non-human masses especially now with Valk's rising voice. Others, particularly the non-humans, considered him Lumire's pet Wulfun, a richly dressed dog. The majority knew him not at all and had no idea who he was and that was how he preferred it.

Harm placed his right paw on the throne. It immediately turned black and crumbled to dust, robbed of its time. Not even the studded jewels resisted the might of his Chronomancy. Countless servants regarded him with fear while the Custodia around him stood on edge.

"That was a very expensive chair," Leandros commented.

"It was. Did you want it?"

The Werewolf King snorted loudly. "Formalities were never my forte as you well know, Chronos. I would rather be on the front lines fighting the Darkened than sitting on this throne letting my ass get fat."

Harm chuckled mildly. A non-human girl scampered up to him, a Felonix, with a broom and a scoop. He took them from her before she could clean up his mess and sent her on her way. As he swept up the black dust, he said, "There's someone I know who is very much like you, Leandros. She is headstrong and eager to see the glory days of old. Would that she knew just what those days were, I doubt she would be so eager."

A hearty laugh was his reply. "Only those of us who are old would warn the youth of today about the dangers of days long gone." Leandros plucked one of the daggers hanging from his waist. Even in the rich finery that surrounded him, he still wore the ragged cloak. "I still remember the day I received these daggers. Do you, Chronos?"

"How could I forget?" Harm answered, rising with a pan full of dust. "Turquon Frostwing had just created his fortress of ice and was attempting to bring a never ending winter to all of Incendius. He threatened your lands first and foremost. You, in your pride, wouldn't call for help so Lumire sent Aria and I to lend a paw."

He grinned broadly. "I still remember the look on your face when Turquon summoned his army of ice. Lupus Ice Magic was no use against ice and you were too proud to call for the Vampiri."

"Not that Phalgymr's bony ass could survive in the frozen south," Leandros grunted. "And the Solis were weeks out. You and the Lady Templar were the closest at hand and the only ones who possessed powers away from Ice." Leandros chuckled, cupping his forehead in his gargantuan paw. "I still remember how the three of us carved a path through Turquon's army before we entered his castle only to confront him on his icy throne. When he turned into that... that monster..."

Harm took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His breath brushed against the dust he had gathered, sweeping outwards in a black cloud. In the swirling mists, he could see the ice-blue Draconis with the same coloured eyes. When Turquon lifted his wings, Harm saw the man's Valour, Snowfall. Turquon had been born without wings and mocked of it his entire life. When he became a Paladin, his Valour came to him in the shape of artificial wings merged with his spine, acting just like any other pair of wings. However, Turquon wanted more and in his greed, his Valour became a Sin.

Snowfall transformed into Bonechill.

Corrupted, Turquon battled Harm, Aria and Leandros, his powers matching all three of them. Harm's cunning with Aria's unwavering determination and Leandros' raw strength sent Turquon to his knees but in his desperation, pleaded to the Demon Lords to grant him strength.

One Demon Lord answered.

"Agares gave him a lot of kick," Harm said, seeing Turquon's enormous, fully draconic form. The massive creature had shattered the castle, rising over a hundred metres in length with six wings spreading from his back. Icy death blew from the dragon's maw while Harm and Leandros clung desperately to its back, desperately hacking away at its wings before it killed everyone below.

"He was a tough," Leandros conceded. "But he could never have fallen were it not for us." He eyed the icy blades of his daggers. "From his scales, twelve daggers just like these were made. Purified by the Inquisition, they were given to the heroes of the battle. One for each. However, I received two because you could not be recognised as a hero. At least not to the public."

Harm turned his gaze away from the dissipating cloud of dust, heading towards the rear of the ballroom. "I have to find Aria."

"We cannot change the world if we are ashamed of who we are, Harm. Valk's people stand proudly about their species. I am proud of my heritage. Can you say the same?"

The Chronomancer paused at the door behind the thrones. His paw lingered at the doorhandle. As his fingers closed around it, he turned his gaze back towards Leandros, his smile returning. "Who says I want to change the world?"

*****

Harm took no pains to hide his presence. A small campfire burned in front of him even though he did not need it. Timekeeper stood imbedded into the soil in front of him. The perfectly circular clearing was open to the night's air. With the storm a day passed, the air smelled crisp and clear. Grass added a sweet-sour twang in the air mixed with the earthy smell of the still-moist ground. The soft soil felt cool against the black, leathery pads on Harm's paws as he lay casually in front of Timekeeper, watching the blade closely.

"You sense it too, don't you?" he asked softly. "The tides are changing here on Incendius." A soft laugh escaped him. "Lumire is trying hard to keep it contained within the Station but Valk's words resonate in the hearts of many people. Novallier's sounds old and tired. Valk's are new and seemingly justified."

His lips were tugged upwards very slightly. "No... I don't think Valk is purposefully causing trouble. Nor do I believe he is trouble. Protests like this happen all the time. More so on Haven than anywhere else. Personally, it's this 'Dawn's Champion' that has me concerned."

Harm plucked a blade of grass from the ground, lifting it to eye level. He traced the small lines that traced the veins of the blade. He tossed it towards Timekeeper. The wind seemed to finally obey him and guided the sliver of green from its trajectory, carrying it towards the golden blade. As the tip of the blade touched the sword, it immediately burst into flames, leaving nothing but ash.

"I'm not sure if this Champion's master is merely using Valk's words as a convenient cover up for his actions or if he truly believes in Valk and grows restless with a lack of results. But I don't think Valk's intention is to raze Incendius. Though I have no doubt he will should he be given cause."

Harm nodded briefly. "I agree. There are others on Novallier's side that would also be restless. This summit will not solve anything. It will merely patch up a wound that has already festered and needs to be treated."

His smile grew cocky. "Who say's I haven't done anything?"

A voice cut through the clearing. "And what have you done, Lord Chronos?"

He turned to look over his shoulder. Yulanda stood at the edge of the clearing, an unassuming, brown gelding beside her. A ragged, brown cloak hung around her shoulders while her Valour shone clearly by her side.

Harm rose to his feet, plucking Timekeeper from where it lay imbedded. "Probably doing something that'll end up getting my ass handed to me on a silver platter," he answered.

"You are defying the wishes of the Apex Clericus Solis." It was an accusation and not a question. Yulanda tied the horse to a nearby tree and strode over to him. "Who were you speaking to?"

"Myself. After millennia of being an outcast and constantly being suspected of even the slightest heresy when you have been nothing but loyal, you tend to get bored and very lonely. Voices in your head help."

"That would be a sign of insanity, my lord."

Harm grinned brightly. "Not when there are voices in your head. I once had this parasitic worm wiggling around in here." He tapped his forehead. "I'm not sure if it was the blinding agony or the fact that he was the product of a genetic experiment gone wrong but he and I had some very lively conversations. I gave a very compelling eulogy at his funeral."

Yulanda did not seem at all fazed by his remarks. "I suspect you know why I wanted to address you the other day."

He smiled, folding Timekeeper and placing it into his pocket. "You want to be trained as a Paladin. That's why you requested me to 'guard' you. You can rationalise with your father that I - as one of the premium trainers of those with a Valour - had to train you to your full potential so that you could defend yourself from other kidnapping attempts. Furthermore, if all goes south, your father would never dare to act out against me."

She was far from impressed but the smile on her features told him she was glad he knew. "You knew from the moment my father told you to guard me, didn't you?"

"I had my inklings." He nodded towards the fire, taking a seat in front of it while Yulanda sat cross the pit from him. "I think the reason you are desperate to break away from your father's protective bonds is because you wish to know your own potential and you consider it a waste that someone with a Valour would be confined to rule. You should be out there fighting not ruling."

"I was given a Valour," she agreed. "It is my duty to protect the people of Tower Thirteen from all that would harm them."

Harm winced, bobbing his head from side to side. "Not really. Do you know what the difference between a Paladin, Templar and Inquisitor is?"

"Of course," she answered, sounding irritated that he would be condescending to her. "An Inquisitor peers into the hearts and minds of the people to root out heresy and corruption. A Paladin and Templar are the front lines of the Church. They protect the people from invasions from demons or hostile forces."

"No."

That stunned her. "Pardon?"

"A Paladin is not a stepping stone to a Templar. Yes, many Paladins rise to become Templars but that is because they change their vocation. Templars are the ones that protect the Church and its people from outside forces and invasions for its enemies. Paladins are those that secure the hearts of the people and help those in need. They are a support role. The face of the Church amongst the people."

Yulanda shrugged. "Very well then. Teach me how to be a Templar."

He smirked and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"And why not?" she demanded, her eyes flashing with agitation.

"Because you want to be a Paladin. You confirmed it when I voiced your intentions."

"Well I changed my mind. My intention was to be a Templar. I simply did not know the term."

Harm chuckled, his lips curling to a smirk. "Yulanda, being a Paladin or a Templar requires conviction and dedication. How can you be either if your change your mind so easily or that you must rationalise the path you wish to take? The fact you did not know the proper term for your goal speaks volumes about just how much research you have done into this road you wish to take.

The Wulfun traced a circle in the grass with his finger. "How can I be sure that this path is not just some other way you wish to defy your father? You must take up a Valour for the right reasons. To spite your over protective patriarch is a sure road to becoming corrupted and your Valour turning into a Sin."

Her hand instantly went to the whip hanging by her hip, her lips pursed in deep thought. For a second, her eyes went to the flames, peering into them as if searching for an answer. Then they went back to his eyes. "This was going to be your answer all along, wasn't it? You never intended to teach me, did you?"

"We all have our roles to play," he answered, rising to his feet. "A balance must be maintained. The status quo." He flashed her a broad grin as he unfolded Timekeeper again. "But things only go out of balance... when you're caught." He flashed her a wink.

His grin was matched by hers and she too rose to her feet.

"I'll train you in the Paladin's arts," he said, "but you're not going to be a Paladin."

"And who are you to stop me?" she answered defiantly, more of a friendly taunt than a true challenge.

"We shall see." He nodded towards her whip. "Can you activate it?"

Yulanda regarded her whip and shook her head sadly. "I have yet to learn my Valour's activation phrase."

"Alright then. Let's start with the basics. Magic. What are the two sources of energy that the Illuminus Weizar draws from?"

"Easy." Yulanda lifted both her hands, palms up. In her right, a blue tongue of flame erupted. In her left, a white one. "Spirit and Force." She gently bounced the blue one. "Force is the power of one's body, your physical and mental endurance. As it drains, you feel fatigued as you are expending your body's energy reserves. It is rejuvenated by rest and food."

"What are the dangers of fully expending your Force energy?"

"Death," she responded shortly. "Your body will simply not have the strength to maintain itself."

"Good. And Spirit?"

"The might of one's soul. It is dangerous to expend Spirit energy as your soul is like a canister for your spiritual being. Using Spirit energy will slowly deplete you of your memories and your emotions; your heart. Losing your Spirit energy entirely will not kill you but it will condemn you to a hollow, unfeeling husk. The advantage is that one can always form new memories, new emotions and Spirit energy adds more power to spells and drains slower."

Harm nodded. "You know the theory well enough. Let's see you put into practice." He lifted his blade, levelling it at her with a grin on his muzzle.

"Let's see what you've got."

******

There are ways of circumventing the laws of Time Magic.

Ways Harm Chronos knew all too well.

As the Sun Spire brightened in the distance, bringing dawn to all of Incendius, Harm Chronos rose from the dusty sleeping bag, making a show of rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. He stretched his arms, flashing his fangs and running his long, flat tongue over his canines. He snapped up the red and white baseball cap that lay beside him letting it sit over his chestnut brown hair, wearing it in a reversed fashion.

The Wulfun sat up, peering at all the non-humans around him, he marvelled at the quiet serenity that had fallen over the camp. No one was shouting for justice, no one was demanding equality and it seemed that Clockwork had at last fallen silent. Throughout the entire night, he lay amongst them with a whole slew of new clothing draped atop his old attire without his scarf. Everything but his scarf was Time Locked alongside him meaning he could not remove his brown vest, white shirt or sneakers lest they chase him wherever he went and forcibly attach themselves to him.

Still, having a casual red, long-sleeved jacket atop his attire with a bright blue knapsack made him appear like an eager-eyed tourist from one of the upper Stations probably fresh out of college and eager to make a difference in the world. To add to the illusion, he threw on a pair of round glasses and put on a second pair of loose, tan, khaki pants over his dark blue, pinstriped slacks.

Somewhere in the city, a rooster crowed, waking the rest of the camp. Having never slept, Harm still pretended he was wiping away the weariness of the night and packed his belongings. No guards had been posted around the camp so no one knew that he was truly the brother of the Propheticus Primoris and the last active Chronomancer. The only thing that could reveal his identity were his golden eyes but he could play that easily as a trick of the light on his glasses.

While the camp was waking, he quickly rolled up his sleeping bag which was far more advanced than the sleeping cots and piles of hay the other non-humans had used to slumber in. He did not complain and merely slung the bag onto his much larger backpack. Hefting the oversized luggage onto his back, he began wandering through the camp, taking a zigzag path through the crowds and making small talk with all those around him.

He bought some freshly baked almond bread crusted with honey and carried it with him about halfway through the camp before he gave it to a Leonix family who looked like they hadn't eaten in days. A bustling community had somehow sprang up overnight and the streets became less of a place of protest and more a marketplace. Shops run by humans were oddly welcoming to the supposedly hostile non-humans. He wandered into an apocatharium and was greeted like a friend especially when he bought some expensive tea.

Harm wondered if the effect of this unity was from Valk's influence or Novallier's. Perhaps the masses just needed an outlet to vent their frustration or they were just following the lead of a few extremists. In either case, both sides seemed placated for the moment. His path took him well through the streets and to the outer extremities of the protest where the crowd had thinned and humans became more common. Odd as it may seem, despite his non-human origins, humans openly approached him, shook their head and mentioned just how 'uncivilised' those at the camp were.

"I'm glad you are a Wulfun of your senses," one man even hazarded. "I'm willing to wager that none of the non-humans in the upper Stations where you come from are this unruly."

Offering the man a gentle smile, he answered, "Oh you'd be surprised. Racism goes pretty far in the upper Stations. Not just that. People get mad about basically every little thing. Species. Taxes. War. You name it, someone will be protesting." He gazed towards the camp, hiking a thumb at it. "This is actually pretty mellow. Better to have people shouting over one thing than to have everyone shouting at the same time and no one getting heard."

The man gave him a look that questioned his sanity. A cheery wave and a 'see you later' ended their conversation with the man muttering to his comrades how he was glad life was much simpler on Incendius.

Their conversation died when the rest of the city quickly awoke. The streets of Clockwork had finally dried from the ferocious storm and people were emerging from their homes to mill about and mind their own business. Those living in the city itself made a conscious effort to avoid the protestors regardless of being a non-human or human.

Harm found it very easy to get lost in the crowd. Amongst the average Incendian, he saw visitors from other Stations amongst the many faces and attires that coloured the dreary streets. The scaled armour and kimonos of the members of Diatollia the Station of the Moon were most prominent. With Diatollia being the closest Station to Incendius, that was understandable. There were few people who dressed in the fashion of Haven, the 13th and highest Station, known as the Station of the Divine. Their colour and vibrancy were drowned by the dark, earthy dress and what might some call 'primitive' sense of fashion of Incendian attire.

Spying a little girl running around in little but a simple, brown dress brought him a smile. Incendius had its charm, its own sense of colour. The girl's vibrant, red hair glimmered in the glow of the Sun Spire and he gazed towards the distant tower that provided hope and warmth to much of the Station.

"Much... but not all," he whispered softly to himself.

It became very easy to get lost in the crowd and he carefully navigated through the throngs of people and shouting merchants to the east. A dark, musty alleyway provided him reprieve from the busy streets.

It also gave his pursuers a moment to corner him.

Two figures appeared ahead of him, both human and both built like the tanks. Without even needing to turn around, Harm knew the other two had blocked off the entrance behind him. Harm stopped, lifting his gaze towards the two that approached him. One of them already had drawn a dagger. Twin, metallic hissing from behind him heralded the drawing of another two blades.

"Now what's a nice, strappin' Wulfun like yerself doin' in a dump like this?" the man in front of him rumbled, flashing a set of rotten, black teeth.

Harm brushed his paw against his left pocket, reminding himself that he had left Timekeeper in his backpack. Arming himself would take too much time. So he had to work with what he had.

"Just trying to find my place in the world," he answered calmly. "Going from Station to Station, lot looking for trouble. Even if it finds me instead." A quick glance over his shoulder. The two men behind him were wielding shortswords giving them a broader reach than the two in front.

"Let me help ya on yer way," the first mugger answered. "Hand o'er all yer money and ya won't be placed six feet under."

"You really want Haven money?" Harm answered, chuckling softly. "You do realise that all our money is digitally transferred, right? We don't use cogs, gears or solid gold coins like you guys here. And the exchange rate is just terrible."

Confused glances were exchanged. That moment when they tore their gazes away from him was all the opportunity he needed. Time was on the verge of slowing...

When a guttural cry erupted from behind him. Harm flicked his ears backwards. There was a third set of breaths apart from the two from the muggers. This one was calm, collected and slow. Curious, he glanced over his shoulder at the hooded figure looming behind the muggers. His saviour drew a longsword away from the chest of one mugger and retrieved a dagger from the other's ear. The two men fell to the ground, bleeding but barely alive.

"What -?" the first thief began but his voice was cut short when that same, bloodied dagger embedded itself down his throat. The man dropped his own weapon, clutching at the weapon as his throat filled with blood. His knees buckled and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

The last mugger stared at his fallen comrades before turning to flee. Harm heard a bow being notched behind him. A soft twang of a bowstring followed and a thud shortly after. The man's head snapped forward with such force that it almost broke his neck.

Harm held his breath, readying himself for whatever attack came his way but when the cloaked figure brushed past him, he let out his breath slowly. His saviour pulled the two men into the alleyway, hiding them away from sight. An orange and black striped tail waved beneath that cloak, belying the Tigris' nature.

"Thanks," Harm began. "If you hadn't been there, I -"

WHAM!

His head slammed hard against the nearby wall, stars flashing in front of his eyes. Through the dancing lights, he could make out a pair of soft, sky-blue eyes beneath the hood. Eyes that he had seen just two days ago, on the verge of dying until they were filled again with life thanks to the reversal of time.

"I don't suppose this makes us even?" he asked.

The Tigris snarled at him, flashing sharp, perfectly white fangs. "I could kill you right now, zealot." He pressed the dagger hard against Harm's neck. "One slice and your life will pour out of your throat long before you can scream for help."

Harm hardened his gaze, keeping them fixated on the Tigris' eyes. "Do you think it's enough?"

"Once a throat is slit, life leaves the body and never returns."

"Some would say the same about a collapsed lung and a crushed torso and yet here you stand." Harm inclined his head to the side, folding one ear tauntingly. "I wonder why."

Doubt crept into the Tigris' eyes and his dagger wavered slightly. "What are you?"

Smirking, Harm merely said, "A zealot." He seized the Tigris' wrist and forcibly dragged the dagger across his throat. There was a flash of blinding pain and his lungs instantly began filling with his own blood. He coughed out a river of blood and staggered away from the horrified Tigris. For a second, his legs felt weak.

Just as the first drop of blood landed on the cobblestone, it immediately jumped straight back up and dripped back into his wound. Flesh began knitting together and blood drove themselves back into his veins where they had filled his lungs. The strength returned to his body and Harm was quickly straightening, licking his lips free of the iron-like taste of blood. Just for good measure, he rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck left and right, popping the bones along his spine as he did so.

"What...?" the Tigris staggered back in horror. "Impossible! How... How did you do that!?"

"The Church has many secrets," Harm answered curtly. He picked up his backpack from the ground, reaching into the side pouch and retrieving Timekeeper. "Now are you going to run off like a good little kitty or am I going to have to housebreak you?"

To his credit, the Tigris lifted his blades and readied himself for a fight he knew he would lose. The fear in his eyes overtook every inch of his body. His legs were shaking and his ropey tail had slipped between his legs, twitching like a frightened worm. While his face grew determined, his eyes were in the distance, praying perhaps or just lamenting what he could never have.

Harm unfolded Timekeeper and the Tigris took one step back. He watched a single drop of sweat roll down from the feline's forehead and soak into the orange fur. Time slowed and eventually came to a full stop. The Chronomancer stepped up to the petrified feline, smiling as he swung Timekeeper and sent it arcing through the air.

Time resumed.

CLANG!

Both the Tigris' blades slammed into the stone walls, embedded hard.

The Tigris gave a cry of horror. "You're inhuman!"

"I'm non-human," Harm corrected with a smirk. "Though I could say the same about you since you played a part in kidnapping a little boy and his older sister."

The determination in the young feline's eyes flared up once again. "It was for the betterment of Incendius!"

"Where have I heard that before?" Harm rolled his eyes and turned away from the would-be assassin. He folded Timekeeper and slipped it into his pocket, making a mental note to keep it there. His backpack was a little dusty from the fight but nothing to truly compromise his cover. As he hung it over his shoulder, he began striding back towards the east, knowing he'd have to come up with another disguise.

"Where are you going?" the Tigris demanded.

His gentle smile in place, Harm turned towards the feline and said, "I'm a zealot. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Why are you fighting against us?"

Again, another question he had heard before. Many times before. Not just during this supposedly peaceful protest.

"We're like you! We're not human! How can you stand there and oppose Valk when all he wants is what is best for us all?"

Why indeed?

Harm's smile obtained an enigmatic, almost cynical edge. "Why not?"

Shock crossed the Tigris' face and he blinked several times like he had just been slapped. That shock was brushed away with a shake of the head and the feline jumped to his feet, fists balled and fangs bared. "I don't believe that! You're not standing against your own people out of some sense of boredom! Your steps, your bearing, everything about you screams for a purpose! Why? Tell me why!?"

Gazing back at the Tigris over his shoulder, Harm asked, "How will knowing affect you? Do you hope to become my rival? Will knowing somehow draw you closer to understanding me and thus finding a way to defeat me? Are you hoping that by knowing, you will find some loophole in my heart to sway my cause?"

The Tigris just shook his head, unable to answer. "Please... Please just tell me why."

Those sky-blue eyes were pleading, compelling. Most would find it hard to refuse them. Harm merely smiled and turned his back. "You want to know why? Follow me."

He strode out of the alleyway, continuing on his journey towards the east. The Tigris was behind him, puzzled as ever. They almost lost one another in the crowd but the feline was surprisingly good at tracking and found Harm constantly. Whenever Harm thought he had lost his shadow, he would spring up right beside him, staring at him with those blue eyes like he was trying to discern some immense puzzle.

Harm wended through a large crowd of non-humans that had gathered in front of a crude stage set up in the middle of the city. Dozens of citizens had gathered in front of the plain, wooden stage. Many were commoners. Some were finely dressed but all had their eyes focused on the lone figure standing atop a wooden crate. He stopped a good fifty metres away from where Valk stood addressing his people.

"For millennia, we have always been under the rule of the humans," Valk shouted, spreading his arms wide while keeping his wings folded over his shoulders. "They call us 'non-humans'. We pigeonholed to a name that implies we are comparable to them. I say, who are they to be compared against?"

He spoke in cool, even tones. While his voice resonated across the small crowd, Valk had this charismatic aura about him that drew the heartstrings of all those around him. The fact that he had no guards around him and he stood there in plain, white clothing spoke volumes of his courage and determination.

The crowd around Harm were not the loyalists that were milling around at the base of the clock tower, shouting against injustice. These faces held contempt for Valk; hatred for his actions disrupting the simplicity and quiet of their lives. Non-humans, all of them, but each one hating Valk. Though with every word the Draconis spoke, that hatred ebbed.

Valk was brave to stand amongst those that despised him and preach.

"We are taught from an early age that it was the Mother Goddess' will that humans rule above all. However, I doubt it was the Mother Goddess' wish that all her creations be subject to the one species. She created us all, gave us life and free will. It is with that will that we choose to stand equal with the humans. Even we are gifted by Valours. There are Wulfun Templars, Goatex Inquisitors, Tigris Paladins and many of the Custodia are far from human."

Several nods of approval rippled through the crowd. Valk had dropped his pebble into the still waters. Now the ripples were spreading and the splash had been made.

"He speaks true," the Tigris said. "Can you not see that?"

Harm did not reply and merely continued to listen.

"The Custodia Lupus are all male and cannot bolster their numbers to stand against the Shadows of the South without willing, human volunteers. Yet they are treated as second-class citizens despite their honour, valour and strength. All for having fur, a muzzle and claws."

"We should rule the humans!" someone shouted. "We're better than them!"

"Yes!" Valk announced, pointing at the individual. "We are better. That is why we must not rule. We must stand as equals. For to rule them would be to invite the same hatred form them as we now bear them. Let us curb that hatred. Let us stand beside them with open arms and welcome them as brothers and sisters."

Harm lifted his paw towards the Tigris. "You want to know why I do what I do? Give me your sword."

The Tigris hesitated. "You plan to assassinate Valk?" he hissed.

The Chronomancer just returned a gentle smile and an enigmatic twinkle in his eyes. With great hesitance, the Tigris handed over his shortsword. Harm spun towards Valk and stormed through the crowd. He sensed the Tigris right behind him, urgency rising in his steps as Harm drew closer to the stage.

Valk soon noticed him but to his credit, he stood still and stern. The crowd took notice but none stopped him even as they began shouting in protest. Harm placed a paw on the stage and with one mighty pulled, leapt onto the stage. He locked gazes with Valk for one moment before he spun around and swept the sword out in a wide arc.

Clang!

An arrow skittered onto the ground beside him.

Silence.

Then...

Thwump! Thwump!

Puffs of black, acrid smoke melded with flashes of fire appeared above Harm. Seven women dressed in red and black leathers with a crimson scarf wrapped around their heads dropped down from the roiling, black clouds. The scarves hid their features entirely, not even their eyes were revealed.

"The Blind Sisters!" someone exclaimed in horror.

That set off a chain reaction as countless civilians began scrambling away from the stage, fearing the nefarious guild of Incendian assassins. Mothers scooped up their children and attempted to push past curious onlookers who wanted to see either Valk assassinated or a fight that would define their lives. Those further back in the crowd had no idea what was happening and barred escape for everyone else.

One of the Caecus Sorores drew a wicked dagger from her hip that was designed like a writhing flame. The instant it left its scabbard, blue flames wreathed the silvery iron. The others did the same though two retrieved a repeating crossbow, blade in one hand and the weapon in another.

"You have stolen our quarry, Wulfun," the first Sister hissed, her voice strangely clear through the scarf. "By rights, she who missed must duel you for the right to the life of our prey."

"I don't suppose you'll leave Valk alone after I defeat her, will you?" Harm answered, a smirk on his features.

"Defeat me and we shall see."

Lightning fast, the Blind Sister flicked out a crossbow and fired. The bolt progressed at an agonisingly slow pace for Harm. He sidestepped the bolt but paused a moment. Tracing the trajectory of the bolt, he noticed it would embed itself right into Valk's left eye. Smiling, he seized the projectile and carried it over to the Sister who was frozen in time.

The crossbow didn't even finish reloading when Harm slammed the bolt right into the Sister's left eye with enough force that it burst through the back of her skull, killing her in an instant. She dropped to the ground, limp and bloodied.

The crowd stopped screaming and just stared in awe.

Picking up the Sister's burning dagger, Harm spun both his blades in his paws and turned towards the remaining Sisters. Even with their features hidden, it was clear that they were shocked and horrified. "Guess she really is blind now, huh?"

Outraged, the Sisters all attacked at once, completely ignoring Valk.

Thwack!

One of the assassin was hurled aside, an arrow embedded into the side of her skull. The Tigris from earlier leapt onto the stage, wielding his bow and drawing another arrow. Two of the remaining Sisters immediately bolted for him. Another arrow left his bow.

The Sisters moved their free hands in odd signs, twisting their fingers in specific ways. Magic tickled the air with its gentle caress and the Sisters perfectly executed their Flamma Fumus technique. Their bodies exploded in a burst of fiery smoke and they reappeared right beside the Tigris, blades ready.

Clang!

Harm appeared right between them, blocking both their blades with his own. The Tigris was quick and immediately levelled an arrow at the Sister to his right, letting loose the arrow at point blank range. The Blind Sister's head snapped back at a sickening angle and she dropped.

His dagger now freed, Harm spun towards the remaining Blind Sister and swiped at her. She dodged back but was in midair when Harm threw the flaming dagger at her. It went straight into her throat, burning her windpipe and setting her scarf alight. She fell to the ground screaming and writing in agony.

The three remaining Blind Sisters exchanged glances - though how they saw one another, Harm couldn't fathom - and quickly turned to flee.

"How important is this sword to you?" Harm asked the Tigris.

"They're sixty gold cogs at the smithy." The feline was drawing another arrow.

"You're being ripped off."

The Wulfun quickly switched the blade to his right paw and hurled it like a javelin. Harm charged after the blade a second later. The Blind Sisters immediately exploded into a puff of fiery smoke, dodging the blade that embedded right between them, putting a sizable distance between themselves and Harm.

Smiling, Harm jumped onto the pommel of the blade and kicked off, hurling himself several metres into the air and over the fleeing Blind Sisters. Far behind him, the Tigris let loose a barrage of arrows. Arrows aimed at him.

Harm smirked and spun in the air, seizing the arrows in midflight and hurling them straight down at the fleeing Blind Sisters. Two were immediately peppered with the redirected projectiles and the third ground to a halt, staring at her comrades in horror.

Her moment of fear ensured her end.

Harm slammed into her, his feet smashing into her spine and breaking it. Blood soaked the already crimson scarf that wrapped around her head. Her scream rising clear and true across the street. Barely alive, she flopped to the ground, writhing in agony. The Chronomancer seized the sides of her head and snapped her neck to end it all.

The crowd exploded into a cheer. Harm straightened, casting his enigmatic, gentle smile across the crowd. His eyes fixed on the Tigris who lowered his bow in relief. A pat on his shoulder reminded him he was still wearing his backpack and perhaps his actions had seemed a little too over the top.

"You have my thanks, kind Wulfun," Valk announced, squeezing his shoulder. The Draconis was beaming at him. "May I have your name?"

There was not a moment of hesitation when he said, "Henry. My name is Henry."

Valk immediately turned towards the crowd, seizing his paw and lifting it into the air. "My good people of Incendius, Henry! He who has saved my life!"

And they cheered. They all cheered.

Harm hiked a thumb at the Tigris who had arrived beside him. "What about him?"

"Roran is part of my personal guard," Valk whispered quietly, winking at my slyly. "The Estuan Oculus."

That surprised him. He gave 'Roran' a curious stare and the Tigris merely nodded very slightly.

Roran leaned closer to him, placing his muzzle to Harm's ear. "That's not your real name, is it?"

Smiling his gentle smile, Harm replied with, "You wanted to know why I'm doing what I'm doing. Well... now you get to find out."