Alone, in the outer moat of the Coven, under the cloak of harmony, Eleanor stretched upon a sheet of leaves. The rapid waterfalls masked any other sound but her lullabies, until Abigor ruined everything with his constant talking.

“Who can tell the best joke?”

“You win.”

That drew a laugh, surprisingly enough. “Nonsense. You must’ve seen something funny since the last time we played this game.”

“Yeah. Your face.”

“…So be it.” He snickered, mocking her monotone disinterest. “Why don’t you ‘face’ me in a duel, then?”

“Ugh! That was your worst one yet.” Eleanor admitted.

“Just think about it, a little. Experience is the best practice. Imagine how much we could learn from each other. You could even pick up a thing or two about strategy, and I could learn how to run from battle.”

“Hey!” Eleanor sat up. “I don’t run from battle! It’s called a tactical retreat. You already know, but I’ll repeat nonetheless. I won’t fight you, even for sport. I can’t hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

Eleanor picked up a stray rock and charged a throw. A bluff, as usual. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Fine, fine. A shame. Could’ve been a nice warm up for the mission, considering you’re forcing me to travel alone. Where do you want me to go, again?”

“You’re not alone, fool. You, along with Herald, are going to find what’s called a Beryl Rhinestone.”

“…Why?”

“Our little secret. We’ve been over this: Herald’s translation demands it.”

“Then why am I running errands? Couldn’t you, or anyone from around here, get the job done without error? You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?”

“Blame Herald. His navigation skills and familiarity with region soon to be ventured has brought a mission that cannot be completed without him. Yet, our own relations with last several Heralds of Kyradin Bael resulted in their death, at the hands of Aku’s crew, who seem to follow us wherever we go. It’s why we spent years avoiding Herald until now. You’ll have to take our place.”

“Finally, I get to play hero. I’ll thank Aku once I’ve beaten him. The guy’s all bark, I’m telling you.”

“Listen.” She snorted. “Even as a Delphic, respect that it is more powerful than you, and it is. There are warriors who were vastly superior to you and me- as in, better by a factor of ten. They faced Aku with far greater caution than you seem capable of exercising, and where are they now? Trophies. Rumor has it, their bodies are used as decorations on the Falsus Heredis.”

“…What a silly name, for a silly guy.”

“Hahaha. Oh, you’re so dead when the time comes.”

“You’re right about one thing. The fight will be decided before any blades meet. Skill is certainly nice, but without brains, it’s worthless. And yet, we’re speaking about a master enslaved by their own pets, too cowardly to enter battle unless threatened by them. Don’t you see? Equipment and planning is key. You should know something about that- always concealed by armor. Come to think of it, it’s not often I get to see you without your helmet. Why not try one day without it?”

“Y-You know I can’t. A Descendant exposing themselves to another of lesser creed in such a manner is frowned upon.” Eleanor looked away.

“You’re always going on about silver eyes, but I hardly ever have a chance to see them. I bet they’re still gorgeous as ever.”

Eleanor’s face reddened, not that he could tell, yet. Defensively, she scanned the area only to spot one of Artemis’ vultures. “Shoo.” Begrudgingly, the obedient bird flapped through the forest roof, cutting a path for sunlight. No longer masked by the shining armor, Eleanor and Abigor quickly found each other’s eyes. As they inched closer, neither spoke a word.

“I’ve got wares fit for heirs, fellow travelers. Don’t be shy!” Troy hummed, slicing his way through the thick foliage with a dull cutlass. Thankfully, he was slow. Instinctively, Eleanor scrambled to place her helmet back on, Abigor’s contagious laughter doing little to help but plenty to hinder. “Ah, you two. What’s so funny?”

“N-Nothing!” Eleanor blared out, pleading with a stare at Abigor. He relented.

“Just telling old stories.” He lied. “Gearing up for a new assignment, as a matter of fact. Typical zealous work. You know, the usual.”

Eleanor cleared her throat and stood up. “Not that you have any right to know. There’s a long history of Coven benefactors who didn’t realize the danger they put themselves in through sheer proximity to us. You should move on.”

Troy feigned offense. “Hey, I’m human, same as him! The Ferryman for the Coven ought to be clued in a bit, wouldn’t you say?”

“The difference between you and me,” Abigor scoffed. “Is that I’m the renowned Captain of the Seventh Brigade, and you’re Troy.”

“Eh… No shortage of self-esteem issues, are there?”

“The numbers of soldiers I’ve outlived? It’s no question you’ll sit among them. I hope it’s not too far to say that someone like you has poor chances of surpassing me.”

“B-But you’ll still need someone to take you there! Wherever ‘there’ is. I’m the guy for the job. Ask anyone, I get around a lot! Back me up here, Eleanor!”

She yawned. “Nobody here even knows where Summit’s Blight is. Only Herald holds such information. He decides who’ll take the trip.”

“Oho! I’m touched!” The faunus himself intervened, skipping maniacally. “Don’t worry, you can bow later.”

“You mean I’m in?” Troy said.

“The more I bring with me, the less likely I’ll be the one to die.”

“What are you doing here?” Eleanor stretched. “Come, quick. If a bunch of Descendants are going to stand around, we’d best do it under the protection of Clotho’s blessing.”

“What about us!?” Both humans questioned in unison.

“If you want, you may tag along.” Herald said. “You might get more than you bargained for, though. See for yourself. But, with better weapons, I’m sure any and all threats will disappear. Why don’t I give Tormentyst a try? You know, recompense for the death of the previous Heralds.”

“No.” Eleanor assumed a defensive posture. “The sword stays with its rightful owner.”

“…What if I offered her a lesson in the Old Arts?”

“Impossible. That’s the most cherished form of meditative combat conceived. It is reserved for Heralds and Keraseers. You’re either desperate beyond reason, or insane, if you’re willing to give it up for a sword. Move along.”

“O-Of course. Slip of the tongue.” His apology resulted in the withdrawal of all but Eleanor, who was left to ponder alone. She waved Abigor goodbye.

Crossing the channel was a task made trivial through the use of Gaius’ warships. Any incoming Grimm under the age of a century would’ve been diced, their hastily disintegrating parts scattered across the ocean by the revolutionary cannons on deck. More important was the confidence they inspired. The lack of doubt deterred Grimm.

“Well. This is nice.” Troy mumbled, setting up shop on a beach. The sun never slackened. To his side, Herald stepped off the ship and began a march towards a cluster of silver, upraised canyons ahead.

“Yeah, sure. This is like a no-man’s continent. Paradise for some, I’m sure. But I can’t stand the heat, and this sunshine’s giving me a headache. You’d think a place this remote might have some rain, but no. ‘Summit’s Blight’ is basically ripe for plundering. The rumors have scared everyone away.”

“What rumors?”

As they traversed deeper and deeper, even Herald had to admire what was, at worst, an arid land untouched by mortal greed. “You really want to know? There was this gem called the Meridian. Worth so much value was it that countless thieves and bandits starved trying to reach it. Eventually, one pack of them succeeded. The cursed diamond trapped them together, until the only way to survive was to eat each other. My guess? They found what we’re looking for, now. The Beryl Rhinestone.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Abigor stated.

“You’re right. I made it up, to gauge your intelligence. You passed.”

“Ha. My turn. Why are we here? What does the Rhinestone do?”

“Fine, fine. I’m sure the silvery-eye-simpletons couldn’t be bothered to tell you.” Herald quickly retracted his insult once Abigor held a blade to his back. “Oh! I-I misspoke! Listen. Squeezing information out of the Coven is as fruitless an endeavor as these trees.” He smacked one to make his point. “If knowledge is power, they have the means to crush anyone. But I am not bound by such an oath of secrecy.”

“Spit it out. I’ve known Eleanor for years but she’s never parted her history.”

“There are four gods. That’s the hierarchy of Keres, Hestia, Clotho, and Trajan, from highest to lowest faith. The Beryl Rhinestone was the jewel of Hestia’s prized necklace, gifted as a symbol of peace by Trajan, before the Second Bewitchment. When an object is imbued with such power, and made so pivotal in the quest of gods, it becomes transcendent in purpose. That’s how the game of Relics is played. There is, if you can believe it, a fifth deity. My instructor, Kyradin Bael. He is the only one who still walks Remnant.”

“Mhm.” Troy frantically jotted everything down.

“So, what’s the Second Bewitchment? And the relevance of the stone?” Abigor asked.

“It’s a tad complicated, but I’ll try to make it easy so you two slugs can understand. Let’s start with ‘Lore: 101.’ There were two supreme beings. Their feud brought Grimm and humanity- one for each’s dogma. Eventually, from the strife of humanity, they caused the First Bewitchment, and shortly departed. Think of it like a curse that spanned the continent, brought on by the darker, less charitable maker. But his brother was a fan of balance.”

Abigor tilted his head. “Let me guess. Not satisfied, he summoned the five gods we worship today, to rule over whatever might’ve remained.”

“Close.” Herald admitted. “He summoned three. Keres, Slayer of Heretics. Hestia, Blood of the Pure. And Clotho, Scourge of the Grimm. The Dark Brother, let’s call him, wouldn’t be outdone. He spawned Trajan, Spawn of the Damned, as an infiltrator. It was that choice that led to a long conflict, and the Second Bewitchment. This time, just the Gods were exiled, and humanity, faunus, and Delphics were spared. Now, we’re alone. Frankly, I see it as a good thing.”

“I see. How does the Rhinestone play into all this?”

“The only way to bring back Trajan is with the Rhinestone, or the Black Dust.”

“What!?”

The details of his story washed over the ignorant, the implications too enlightening. They only stopped to check their surroundings once a sign had been reached.

“Anti-Citadel?” Troy read out nervously.

“Yep. This area was a favorite of the first Herald. He’d come here often, naming it in secret to ensure whatever was hidden would not be disturbed. Of course, nobody knew that until these terrible tablets came to light. How fortunate.”

“What was he trying to hide?”

“You’re inviting me to make up scary stories, at this point.”

Abigor changed subjects, walking down a stack of carved stairs towards a frighteningly tall vault, constructed from wood. “What about the fifth god?‘The Arbiter’? Where did he come from? How did he survive Trajan’s war, and the Second Bewitchment?”

“Nobody knows.”

“Uh, guys?” Troy interrupted, thoroughly past the entrance. “What’s that?”

But they needn’t any warning, for the Grimm ahead was impossible to miss once light flooded the cavern. Ensnared in diabolical chains, seemingly asleep, Galathyn rested beneath a cloud that broke the otherwise cheery mood. This fog was tirelessly thick, with unnatural tendrils fighting in vain to expand the cramped space.

“The Rhinestone!” Withholding a celebration was nearly beyond Herald. “See? That thing’s holding it. Once we get the stone, I’ll be free to carry out my dreams in peace!”

“Wait.” Abigor boomed. “You need discipline. We have no idea what we’re going up against, here.”

“Ah, where did all that confidence go?”

“There’s a time and a place, Troy. Joking about the horrors of bloodshed is how many of us cope with it, but if you treat the warpath as one does the flower fields, then that is where you’ll be buried. Herald! Do you know what that thing is?”

“Not like any Grimm I’ve ever seen. Must be one of a kind. Legend spoke of the spider Grimm nicknamed the Grand Gatekeeper, Galathyn, but said nothing of the Rhinestone’s involvement. You may have noticed, but it’s not easy being a historian.”

“Easier than a soldier. We make history. You simply observe it.”

“Shhhhh!” Troy hooted. “I think it’s sleeping!”

Herald sighed. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a genius. Obviously it’s stuck in a permanent trance, idiot. Look, we can’t just stand here. The goal’s right there.”

“Remove that Rhinestone, and you’ll unleash Galathyn.” Abigor said.

“I think we can handle Trajan’s little pet. I thought this story more of a lie than myth, but it’s clear now. The Almighty Keres must’ve used his second in command’s necklace as a lock, to seal away the blight brought by this Grimm. Bigger, faster, and more relentless than the rest, Galathyn remains in the minds of children, tales of its rage enough to keep them tucked away in their houses at night.”

“And you want to awaken it?” Troy gasped.

“How bad can it be? It’s trapped in this cave, anyway. Anything to get the Rhinestone, right?” Without waiting for confirmation, Herald swiped the stone away. Immediately, the floor shook, every barren torch in the mine igniting with purple flames.

As the bonds fell away, splashing into dust upon impact with the floor, the full scale of Galathyn was realized. The ceiling nearly caved in, the space unbelievably cramped given the situation. Each of the three marauders gulped. Mounting a fight in these conditions was impossible, and for the first time since its imprisonment, Galathyn screamed. It went ballistic, smashing its way towards the gate.

“Watch out!” Abigor tackled his allies to safety. Galathyn was gone. Yet, more concerning was the gray mist that now creeped out into open air, turning the paradise of Summit’s Blight into an uncompromising land of storms. They followed the clouds outside cautiously.

“Oh, thank the gods we’re alive.” Troy panted.

Herald praised his new souvenir closely, analyzing every glimmer and perfect oddity. “Yes! It’s mine! It’s all mine! The things I’ll accomplish with the spoils of this Stone! Kyradin will finally free me!”

“What? No. It must be taken back to Eleanor.” Abigor demanded.

“…Consider for yourself the sort of crisis this world would be subject to if the Rhinestone ended up in the wrong hands. Someone in the Coven craves that outcome. Keeping this thing away from Xiasma is the smartest thing we could do, right now. I hate to be the one to say it, but Eleanor is playing you. Deep down, you know I’m right.”

Abigor watched the clouds expand beyond the ocean, their mistake becoming more drastic by the moment. “Xiasma? What’s he talking about? Why does he desire this relic, so?”

Then, something clicked. Herald’s concerning words throughout the day repeated in his head. “’Once we get the stone, I’ll be free to carry out my goal in peace… The things I’ll accomplish with the spoils of this Stone...’” And then, Eleanor’s suspicions clarified everything. “’You’re either desperate beyond reason, or insane, if you’re willing to give it up for a sword.’”

Abigor quickly changed demeanors, readying his weaponry, cutting off Herald’s path. “No! You want the Rhinestone so you can cheat Clotho’s Coven out of Tormentyst!”

“Just couldn’t let it go, could you?” Herald, even without a weapon, managed to evade each and every sword wipe. Even his costume, passed down from the previous Old Fang beneficiary, remained untouched by the deadly blade. And when the opportunity presented itself, Abigor was rewarded with brutal fists and kicks.

All of that changed once Troy intervened. True to his word, the merchant was no stranger to combat. Relatively inexperienced as he was, he must’ve learned from Abigor’s proverbs, as the dominance in numbers helped exponentially.

It wouldn’t last. His approach relied on dust enhanced mobility, and after Herald stopped time and clawed away the cloak holding Herald’s provincials, the field was once again evened. Both allies, frozen, were subject to gauntlet of rives.

Abigor, in desperation, leapt away and attempted to signal the Seventh Brigade, with an incantation and flare gun. The Old Arts had no end of tricks, as teleportation let Herald cut that tactic short, with a nasty grapple to the floor.

What followed could only be describe as a tactician’s dream. Both of them realized quickly that the bout could only be determined by planning and strategy. The slippery, slimy, sneaking Herald and the honor-marked example of human endurance made a good match. Of course, stamina was the time limit.

Herald was skilled, but too young and impulsive. The advanced manipulation of time and space came at a price of Aura. In staving off Clotho’s Coven for so many years due to derangements for the Black Horsemen, he lacked the experience Abigor acquired in droves. Retreat was the only way out.

“I-It doesn’t matter.” He reasoned. His limp slowly evolving into a run. “I’ve got the Rhinestone, now. And if you try to stop me, I promise Trajan won’t wait sleeping much longer.”

“Follow him!” Abigor gasped, trying to push the boulders knocked onto him aside for a much needed breath. Troy pursued, but a turn of the corner brought a complete dead end.

“What? Impossible. Where did he go?”

“Foul magic. Something big was just released. We can blame it for this insipid rain.” One of Galathyn’s roars sent a chill through their already numbing bodies. “We shouldn’t have come here. Herald was willing to do anything for Tormentyst. He knew what the ‘Grand Gatekeeper’ was guarding. I’m betting he lied about the tablets brought to him, too. Were they even written by Kyradin Bael? I should’ve expected nothing less from the Old Fang, let alone a Herald, with the gall to disbar himself from other Descendants out of fear.”

“So, what happens now?” Troy, despite his open surroundings, became dangerously claustrophobic at the concept of a shifting maze.

“With Galathyn free, it seems this place no longer abides by the rules of reality. We’ve no choice but to move forward, and make it to the Coven before Herald. Perhaps that’s what he wanted all along: our entrapment. But it won’t work.”

“Eleanor will come looking for us, right?”

Abigor didn’t answer. But even now, as he struggled just to determine east from west, the thread keeping his allies together was in far worse condition. Eleanor wasn’t equipped to hunt the Rhinestone though she, and her peers, were eager to tackle a settlement thought untouched by maps. The path was set. Perhaps among the reef-ridden sea of sunken ships and thunder, Artemis deduced, the dreaded Captain Aku’s death would bring answers.

Entry No. 6 complete.

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