Garden Of The Abyss

"Mother! Mother!"

"...I've told you many times not to--"

As the sage with platinum hair turned around to look at the young girl, she found her words absent from her throat as those innocent, azure eyes looked up at her with such admiration and joy.

"What is it, Iris?"

Returning her gaze to the bookshelf made of soft, golden wood in front of her, Beatrice began to return the books she held in her arms back to their rightful place. It was something the young girl enjoyed watching--for a reason unbeknownst to the sage. Sometimes, the girl who stood no taller than the sage's knees fervently requested to return the books herself.

Though they were much too heavy for the frail, small child, she happily tried her best while standing atop her tippy-toes, reaching with such determination before each and every book found its home once more.

"When is Father coming back?"

"..."

"Mother?"

"He'll be a bit longer. It's winter now, Iris; snow is blocking the roads, and I'm sure he's resting at inns on the way here."

There wasn't a day that had passed where the question wasn't asked; each and every time, the sage found herself at a loss of words before those yearning, pure eyes of the girl she looked after. Alone in that vast home they lived; though the wise, primordial sage knew what would come in the years, even she, one who discarded the sway of emotions, began to feel the warmth of care once more.

"...Have you taken a liking to this one, child?"

Asking this of the young girl who sat on her lap happily, Beatrice looked down at her, meeting her azure gaze with her own as the girl nodded her head, jabbing her finger against the drawing plastered on the page. It was a drawing of a knight wearing draconic armor, standing alongside his companions as they successfully defeated what looked to be an army of goblins.

"The hero is amazing! Amazing!"

"Adronicus...he is one of the principal heroes of Mastorn, Iris. He dedicated his life to fending off the monsters most people thought to be too weak to care about. It was because of his selflessness that Mastorn survived the first Crimson Night. Remember him."

"Mhm!"

Nodding her head with such infinite joy, Iris' smile brought one from the sage's own lips. Reaching her hand up, Beatrice brushed her fingertips against her lips as she was stunned for a moment.

"Mother?"

"Yes, child?"

"Why are you crying? Are you sad?"

A single tear trailed down the sage's cheek as for the first time that she could remember, her eyes trembled with a flicker of true, untampered emotion.

That night, she couldn't sleep--watching the moonlight in its unveiled form.

It's different. Looking upon the moon is different when you feel such things, she thought.

It wasn't the first time such cracks in her stoic wall had been found, but this time she knew.

How foolish I am. I could've removed her from the summoning and only brought her father...but when I saw her through that veil of space, she looked so much like her...why is it that the warmth of a family is so alluring to me…?The more I look at her; that boundless curiosity, her innocence, her unconditional love--I feel a fire in my heart being rekindled...one that had long sat stagnant, Beatrice thought.

It was this realization for the sage that brought her to a decision; one that hurt more than anything in the past millennia could manage.

Sitting alone in her somber chamber, the platinum-haired sage traced her graceful fingertips across her chest, trailing them across the smooth, emerald gem that glowed subtly at her touch.

If I wish to commit to my goal, I can't have my vision obscured by these far away dreams...a family...such things must be discarded, Iris will be an Outlander, she thought.

Lightly tapping the verdant pendant on her chest, inlaid upon a pristine, silver form, brought upon a series of magic seals painting over her skin and just above her chest. Her eyes met with only the ceiling, looking up at the stygian chandelier as she held on near her bosom was something too painful to look at.

For you, Angelika, I kept my heart; memories weren't enough...I wanted to feel something from those very relics of the past...but alas, it seems these emotions aren't befit for a woman such as myself. In this eternity that I mistook for my own life, my one, true purpose for existence must be followed through.please visit

And to do that, I must discard it--my heart, Beatrice resolved.

Turning the verdant seal inscribed above her chest like a gear, it spun and spun with a slight hum as she continued to watch the ceiling--feeling every emotion pass through, all at once, together--clumped like a ball of memories.

With a resounding crack the emerald pendant shattered--dissolving into nothing more than passing dust that lined the bookshelves.

"I'm sorry, Iris."

Even with this resolve, the sage couldn't fully commit herself to putting the girl on this path. It was a slow process; teaching the azure-haired, bubbly child the foundation of magecraft--Beatrice's harsh training regime didn't befall the girl.

Coddled and secluded from society, Iris grew to be a girl lacking in proper motivation--there was little she understood of the world; its harshities, though known, were only tales to her. Nonetheless, if it was her mother's dream--she would fight for it.

The day will come when I tell you, Iris. Maybe it'll be tomorrow, or even years from now...you might end up hating me, I won't blame you. Just know, despite my best resistances, I truly do consider you my daughter, Beatrice thought.

It was by remembering the gentle warmth once coming from her adoptive mother's eyes did Iris find it in her to continue fighting; not just out of her own will, but for another.

"Hyperion: Radiant Sun,  Beautiful Moon, and Welcoming Dawn!"

Yelling the selected magecraft out, the sudden, exponential increase in the injured girl's mana output took even the large Ju-Long by surprise as he was left stunned at the aura emanating from Iris.

Forming behind her, a wheel made of light intertwined, weaving into an intricate, immaculate form; in the center, just above her head, the sigil representing a graceful, benevolent woman was formed--the dawn, the left bore the moon, and the right came the Sun. Shining so brightly behind her, the radiant magecraft glistened through her azure locks with a seraphic iridescence. Wiping the fresh crimson that trailed from her nose, a look of resolve had long replaced the fear she held in her eyes.

ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom It's a tertiary spell that remains active as long as I can pump mana into it. It gives me a few tools, but I have to use them wisely. I haven't mastered this yet...but who gives a crap about that!? I'm here to win, aren't I…? I can't worry about this or that...I can't think about losing...I can only win, she thought.

Recognizing the new threat before him, as enigmatic as it may be, Ju-Long maintained a cautionary stance, keeping his guard raised as his eyes watched the girl carefully.

That's right--just like that. "Dawn"--this portion of the spell allows me to recover my injuries, but I can't launch any additional spells while it's in the primary position, she thought.

Replacing the painful heat resonating through her stomach and back, a gentle, nurturing warmth flowed through her body like the blood that traversed her veins.

"A SECOND WIND FROM IRIS! IT SEEMS SHE HAS POWER OF HER OWN HIDDEN UP HER SLEEVE!"

"I don't think I've seen her use that one before…"

Ren was left intrigued and mystified at the sight of the magecraft; as the radiance glided through her locks, it left the young woman's azure locks to take on an almost heavenly complexion.

Sun, Moon, and Dawn is a defensive spell...so I still have to make up my end for confronting him. "Easier said than done"--that's what you'd say, right, Ren? She thought.

It was only by maintaining such intense, unmoving eye contact that Iris bluffed the warrior, keeping still as her body was slowly but surely returned to a healthy state.

Alright...here comes the hard part: switching priority states, Iris gathered her breath.

The fiery wheel of bright, radiant light behind her was a part of herself, feeling as if it was another limb.

Even so, the hard part of manipulating the spell came from balancing the mana output and input; switching between the three main forms required a completely different output of magical energy.

Sun…! She resolved.

As the wheel slowly turned, the morning star took the prominent position. Immediately, she gasped as her body strained from the sudden, explosive release of mana before gaining a handle on it, catching her breath.

Watching carefully while keeping his low stance, Ju-Long narrowed his eyes as a unique heat exuded from the girl's position.

Just what sort of spell is she using? She's remaining defensive still...is she trying to bait me in? Or is she bluffing me? Ju-Long thought.

Flexing his plentiful muscles, veins pressed against his golden-brown, tan skin as his eyes widened--preparing for an assault of his own at last.. Once more, the man clad in a unison of fat and muscle dashed forward like a bat out of hell.

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