Artemis was completely exhausted, consumed most of all by fear of those tablets which presaged an apocalyptic crisis. And now, vengeance had been added to the mix. Aku was gone, but she’d pinpointed his location without a lead once before. To avenge a Keraseer, she’d do it again.

“Sister Artemis? I-It’s alright. It’s just me.” Diana inquisitively entered the chateau, where the murals reached their highest and the walls were polished to perfection. “I was just curious… Are you doing okay?”

“What? Of course. Please, don’t worry about a thing.” She was thankful her helmet hid the bags under her eyes. She had opted not to rest during the last new moon. Every hour that ticked by without resolution was one that shouldn’t be wasted. She couldn’t sleep, anyway.

“Are you sure?”

“…Thank you for asking. I’ll manage just fine. But you see, the more time that passes without action on our part, the greater a threat Trajan will pose.”

“I know, I know. But remember, I’m still stuck on the Herald Transcripts. Am I allowed to know why we can’t just stop Trajan? You guys are the greatest warriors in Remnant, right?”

“You are, too…” Artemis swept aside her mountain of graphs and paid full attention to the question. “But it’s a little more complicated than that. And we are in a situation never discussed in law. Perhaps it’s against standard procedure, but… With how splintered we are, this may be the first steps of fixing things. Okay.”

“I’ll keep it a secret!”

“The War of the Second Bewitchment was technically a success for us, the good guys- you should’ve known that by now. But it came at price only high ranking Descendants comprehend. Lord Keres, Lady Hestia, and Lady Clotho had no choice, so in keeping us safe and exiling one god, they had to sacrifice themselves, too. There was no way to figure out the fourth of their council was a Delphic, and in allowing him to carry on in this way, Trajan could return with revenge in his soul. All gods paid for the sins of just one.”

Diana tilted her head. “But isn’t Kyradin Bael still here? Wasn’t he the fifth and final member of the High Council? What let him live through the Second Bewitchment?”

“The Arbiter is the only faunus who resided among the four. Neither divine nor mortal, it seems he predated us all. One can only guess what life was like back then.”

“What do you mean?”

In order to better lay out the lore, she started sketching out the events on a sheet of parchment. “The First Bewitchment was brought on by two primordial beings, the Dark Brothers, who grew wary of mankind’s love of warfare and betrayal. So, naturally, they brought an end to civilization. Four gods were left in the event something- anything, remained. But Lord Keres, Lady Hestia, Lady Clotho, and Trajan would go on to destroy themselves, too. Kyradin Bael was never meant to exist beyond the First Bewitchment.”

Diana gasped. “You mean to tell me he’s from the age of the Dark Brothers?”

“…I would guess, indeed. Don’t you see? The start of three bloodlines had to forfeit their endless lives, and one Relic, to eradicate Trajan when he tried to replicate his creator’s greatest spell.” Artemis stood up. Simply describing what she already knew was enough to accelerate her heartbeat. “Should he ever come back, three of us would need to do the same. Only a Descendant is ripe for the banishing ritual, and if we do not stop him, he will summon onto Remnant the Third Bewitchment. Not only was the location of every Relic scattered at the end of the War for the Second Bewitchment, nobody in Clotho’s Coven is to die. I won’t allow it!”

“But if so, humanity will perish. W-What do we do?”

The answer gave Artemis a reinvigorated sense of passion. There was no chance of throwing in the towel, now. “We won’t let Trajan return! There are but three things to do. Discover Xiasma! Retrieve the Rhinestone, or Whetstone, and destroy them! And place the elusive Forgotten Brazier under strict lock and key! One cannot resurrect Trajan without that missing shrine.”

Mania, cradling something obscured with a bundle of cloth, slowly approached. “I thought this information was reserved for those who’ve reached the highest levels of Kingdom Lore. Why tell the youngest now?”

“What? What difference does it make, at this point? She needs to know.”

“Weren’t you the strictest when it came to honoring the code? Only those most devoted to the Coven are worthy of its puzzles, and Diana is far too young for you to impart knowledge of this esteem. Look, when something doesn’t add up, it’s almost always subterfuge.”

“As always, you’re the only one who can be right about something…” Artemis grumbled. “Times have changed, Sister. Descendants are dying, and the Trajaneer is still free. The ‘code’ has been suspended until we can get this situation under control. It’s my duty to keep us together, and that’s final.”

Diana tried to diffuse the situation. Had Mania not pressed onward, she would’ve succeeded. “I-It’s alright. I’ll catch up with the books really quickly, I promise!”

“But you can’t just break a cherished tradition. Nobody has that right- not even you. What’s going on here, really? Don’t lie, now. This is important.”

Artemis mocked the very concept, waving away Mania. “Are you accusing me of being Xiasma, again? Please. The implications that I would aid Trajan is profane. It’s ridiculous. It’s heresy, of the highest order! I started the Coven.”

“…No, you didn’t. Lady Clotho did.”

“But I was the first-“

“And you are not the first member.” Mania dumped the contents of her bag onto the ground, a pile of never before seen books spilling open. Most of them were stamped with the sigil of Grimm. “Mind explaining why these were hidden for so many centuries?”

“You were in my room!?” Artemis’ frantically attempted to scoop the texts up and off the shining floor.

“So, you’re not above keeping secrets. Traitorous, I’d say. How about you, Sister Diana? Her plot starts with putting the title of Xiasma on me, doesn’t it? But you forgot one thing. I’m smarter- much smarter, than any of you. I’ll put a stop to this before it can even begin.”

“Watch your tone, Sister Mania.” Artemis commanded. Her stature grew larger, and her voice suddenly echoed. “Never before has war been waged with me, or any member of the Coven, in this sanctuary. Cease this madness at once.”

Diana tried a second time. “Wait, please! We can still fix this! I’m sorry!” Again, she was denied by Mania.

“Get behind me, Diana. This ends with her! She’s the traitor!” The Scythe was brandished. “For you see, the contents of these books is enough to ruin you, Artemis. Shame if word of them were to ever leave this room. I’m disgraced myself, and I’m not the one who overthrew the true first member of the Coven, and hid away every record of him: A man, by the name of Agramon? Ring any bells?”

“Silence!” Artemis screamed, aiming her bow and firing in less time than Mania could reasonably react. The arrow whizzed past a startled Diana, and struck her in the shoulder, driving her into one of the lavish dining thrones.

Everyone else, at the first sign of discord, blasted through the doors with their weapons ready. Immediately, Eleanor had seen enough, already drawing conclusions. “Sister Artemis! Have you lost your mind!?”

Even the black vultures waited an uncomfortable amount of time for an answer. “I… Perhaps I have. Forgive me.” Artemis nearly dropped her bow, now sprinting away, shaking.

“Wait!” Eleanor was ready to give chase. “Are you guys going to help, or just stand there?” None could deny the implications of Artemis using her weapon on another outside of training, except Eos, who followed to the gossip of the rest.

Once outside, Abigor was the only one who could get her to halt. Equipped with only a bouquet meant for Demeter, he expected an expedient trip. But Eleanor had to take a break from running, anyway. “Is there something the matter?”

“It’s Sister Artemis. Something pushed her to turn on us, and now she’s gone. She might be the traitor. I don’t know, anymore.”

“What? She just ran past me. Wouldn’t even answer me. Calm down.”

“No. I have to see where she goes. Leave me.”

“Hold on a moment. Think about this rationally. She’ll return on her own terms-” Abigor said.

“Leave me alone!” She broke away and continued following the tracks. Eos didn’t acknowledge him, and did the same. Eleanor could hold her own well enough, as an assailant, but fighting remained a dangerous prospect without someone to play defense. She prayed Artemis wouldn’t force her hand.

Abigor sighed, rolled his eyes, and then continued the chase himself. The flowers stayed behind.

He kept on their trail, whistling, fighting off insects, eventually skipping stones when Eleanor spent a few minutes investigating an isolated Nomadic Outpost, feverishly stoking the feeling of monotony. “Why don’t you try talking to the birds, huh?”

“Her vultures are gone.” Eos claimed. “Either she’s called them off, or they’re no longer hers to control. Neither options bode well.”

“Ever notice how it’s always a terrible curse, or a dire plot, or something ‘doesn’t bode well.’ Nobody ever says ‘Oh, Abigor, my dearest friend, we thank you for constant loyalty, and we offer you ten-thousand gold on this day, where there will most certainly not be a terrible tragedy.’ Funny how that is, right?”

“…I could state your suggestion right now, if you’d like.”

Abigor shook his head, now bemused. “If only words held such value. How about you? We just need a good break. A good day.”

“If I dwelled on each day that went by, I’d have gone insane before half-time of the first year. I live for the hour, more or less. So, you could say it’s been a rough hour. I’m too old for this, literally.” She explained, bringing him to chuckle. “Stop laughing.”

“That reminds me. There was something at the lost lair of Aku-”

“Do not say that name.”

Abigor flinched for show. “Aha. The lair of that Delphic. I came to help, but also to tell you something really important.”

“It can wait.” When bored, which was most of the time, Eos’ habit of speaking in forceful, choppy sentences never grew old.

“I’m… Not so sure. Herald is not the good friend you see him as. This entire time, he’s been using connections to gain dominance over Tormentyst. We found the Beryl Rhinestone, only to have him abuse the ‘Old Arts’ so he could run away with it. I can only guess where it’s gone at this point, and even though its location’s changed, Herald’s goals likely haven’t.”

“Impossible.” Eos said.

“But it’s true, and that’s bad news for us. Troy could tell you himself. I learned firsthand the use of these Relics. Don’t you see? Herald actually found one, set a Grimm the size of a building free, and challenged Troy and me, all to steal Tormentyst. Isn’t this important? The Rhinestone is in play, and Diana could be in danger.”

Eleanor interrupted. “She is locked in a fortress with two guardians at the front gate. For now, nothing is more important than Sister Artemis’ safe return. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but all we can do is divide and conquer. We’ll organize an investigation into Herald as soon as we’re all together again.”

“Then, mind clueing me in? What did Artemis do?” Abigor said.

“She attacked us! Is it really that hard to understand?”

“Well, yeah. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Why did she do it?”

Eleanor stopped, now shouting in a cloudy, abandoned town of dead champions. Pieces of their armor were scattered along the dry land. Artemis’ tracks had all but vanished, and now they were only wandering aimlessly. “I don’t know! Now go. How many times do I have to tell you? This is no longer your concern. I should’ve kept you out of this the moment Trajan entered the picture.”

“What is it, huh? Is it because I’m human? We were given choice for a reason, Eleanor. None can deny that, even if born with blood like yours.” Abigor crossed him arms.

“It was I who kept your kind safe till this point. It was us who allowed you to get this far, to escape the persecution of Grimm. Hundreds of years of wisdom and experience, and still you fools question our leadership. This is beyond you. Abandon your pride!”

Before he could provide an answer, a Grimm offered one of its own. The terrible growl signaled a foe beyond the likes of a simple Beowolf. Instinctively, the three formed a triangular formation, and Abigor slid Eos’ spiritual dagger into his hands, leaving his sword with his men with the intention of a peaceful voyage. He should’ve kept his expectations in check. “…Without pride, we are nothing but meat, waiting until it’s time to become worms in the ground. This is not living. You should learn that, now.”

Of the chest pieces and leggings and chainmail skewed about, some of each swirled around, creating a hurricane of steel, only to come together above them and crash down. Thankfully they dodged, but the elements of a warrior came together thereafter, and a ghoul knight with no physical body rose from the dust.

“I see. We’ve fought this enemy once before. It has terrorized these lands for far too long. It’s the same Grimm from the Keraseer Kingdom.” Abigor studied his opponent relentlessly, spotting the emblem of a Geist.

“Lady Demeter…” Eleanor remembered very well, and used those awful memories as ammunition.

The suit of armor assembled correctly at first, but would send pieces of itself in random directions at undeterminable intervals, until eventually the battle morphed into an unconventional game of dodging aimless metal. The break in pattern was sudden, the humanoid strategy returning, accentuated with the use of rusted pikes or maces from the corpses of those whose body wasn’t desecrated. And here, they thought they’d seen it all.

The Grimm eventually managed this confusion into a flurry that took away Eleanor’s aura, and threw her into Eos. It caught Eleanor’s ageless sword and bent it into a ball of twisted metal. Though greatly amused, the owner of the weapon cried out in horror.

Abigor took the chance, slashing with all his might from behind. Not willing to be outdone, the armor dodged instinctively, losing limbs in order to preserve its symbol- the weak spot of any Geist. Eos finally recovered, overjoyed at the sounds of tearing alloy. But when she looked over, she witnessed the ruse in full, as the other piles of plating came under a dark influence and restrained Abigor.

“No. My axe!” She fumbled around in trepidation, spotting it under a mountain of enchanted gloves. It seemed more than one outfit could be haunted, and this tactic would stall long enough.

Abigor could only stare down his enemy, as the Geist revealed itself and ensnared a gooey web around his body. “Wait! Stop! N-No! I have so much more to give!” Too late. Apathetic to begging, the archfiend absorbed what was left of any constitution.

As Abigor died, the Geist’s mind wandered, and suddenly it favored a new form, choosing to channel inside his body. With countless lifespans of experience, and a host as formidable as Abigor was, the Wraith was born- a horrific combination of man and Grimm at both their best. Eleanor screamed, trying to deny what was happening. The nightmare progressed. So enamored with the prospect of a human vessel, the Geist had no plans to ever leave.

“You must make a stand!” Eos hauled Eleanor up. They could both cry later. “Abigor is no more, but he will not be forgotten. Do you hear me, Eleanor? Without you, neither of us will survive. Make good of his sacrifice. Wake up. Wake up! Please.”

First, Wraith screeched. This was a power not felt since its inception. Eos let Eleanor wallow in misery, and braced for impact. Her powerful strikes extended the duel, but her greatest asset of unmatched dexterity was rendered useless against Wraith’s new claws. Nothing could withstand them, and her aura depleted in seconds.

The tipping point came when Wraith slithered through the walls, and grappled for the weapon. Eos almost laughed. She’d been outmatched the entire fight, but now her enemy had focused all efforts on raw strength, where she reigned absolutely supreme. Shortly, Eos let the rage inside, and pushed back with everything, roaring. There, she fell into the trap.

The Geist retreated for but a moment, leaving Abigor’s limp body as a scarecrow. It swooped around, and jammed its nails into Eos’ back.

“No!” She pleaded, falling to her knees. The Wraith loomed overhead and graciously licked its lips with an elongated, dripping tongue.

“Die!” Eleanor stabbed it repeatedly through the back with Eos’ polearm, gritting her teeth at the shower of dark liquid. “Die! Die! Die! You bastard!”

Once she was finished, the Wraith convulsed in a pool of its own bile, but it was still alive.

“…I knew you’d return. That was too close.” Eos struggled to stand. “Finish the job, quickly, while we have the chance.”

Eleanor backed away from Wraith, her hands trembling. “Abigor… I’m sorry.”

“Make haste!”

“…No. He’s Grimm but… He was my best friend.” She sobbed. “Oh, Abigor. This is all my fault. You left me no choice!”

“E-Eleanor! It’s a Grimm! It only purpose is to die at our hand! What’s done is done. Give me back my axe, or do as your god commands, and have your revenge!”

“I won’t. I can’t.” Eleanor defiantly stepped away, holding the axe back. Sooner or later, Wraith would recover.

“None would ever refuse, unless… No. You’re Xiasma.” Eos gasped, disarmed. “You’re Xiasma…”

Hardly believing it, she limped away when Eleanor held a hand out, the hurt in both their hearts cutting deep. So, they ran in opposite directions while Wraith simply laughed, wiping its mouth of blood with a shredded hand and tasting it. Perhaps in time, the decision to spare the shell of Abigor may not bring so happy an ending.

“Eleanor…” It regurgitated the spoken word with glee.

Entry No. 8 complete.

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