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Aleister assisted the group as directed before they moved on, saying prayers and mending a few wounds. While he remained proficient in the latter, he could not say the same for the former. There was a deep irony to it, he knew. He had been proclaimed an Archbishop, the head of an entire splinter...

Options had been presented, but little strategy in hunting down divine beings. Lucafiel found this for the best - let the Vestati direct the current as they wish without interference, even from the Dark Lord himself. No matter what their illustrious overlord said, there were plans within plans...

Aleister grew quiet, his face both calm and turbulent. Once again he found himself surprised - he had expected no understanding from the likes of Camille, but it seems the both of them had witnessed too much to not go unchanged. He wished he could blame it all merely on fate and happenstance, to...

The antics of Yz troubled the Vestati the most, out of all the other Heralds to answer the call. Neither pirates nor mercenaries, mad sorcerers or vengeance-driven souls concerned them any. All were the usual afflictions of mortality and the soul. There were patterns there, logic and reason that...

The Redeemer Prince bowed his head slightly to Alexandra, his arms crossed before him in a manner where his hands were concealed within the volume of his gilded sleeves. As another figure that was masked his expression was naturally lost, revealed only by the currents of his voice and flicker of...

Aleister listened to the words of those who had spoken to him with an increasingly distant stare, vacant of anything except pain. Everything was pain, one way or another. The things he had done and the things he hadn't. The people who couldn't be saved and those who had to be sacrificed for a...

"Oh, don't be crass, my dear Marquess. If such skills weren't needed, you wouldn't be here, either. A killer like none other," Aleister said with a growing sneer. His icy gaze seemed to flicker with contempt. "I need not redemption nor atonement, for my sins are but a mere drop in an ocean of...

With the fire now extinguished - and his great coat ruined in nary a few weeks of ownership, which he tossed aside in a crumpled heap - he stiffened as Cassandra's words drifted up to meet him alongside her pained gaze. He glared down at the woman, his expression cold, his eyes long absent of...

Aleister had heard Rebecca's shouting, though the meaning flowed past him like water, for his battle was growing increasingly personal as he danced away from a seemingly endless throng of bloodthirsty wretches. As new as his rifle was, capable of firing with each pull of the trigger like a grand...

The sea was a maddening place. Lucafiel had little care for it, as few Vestati did, as they had lived upon the golden winds and blazing sunrises with the knowledge that they were, in effect, the rulers of all that was below. But this was a lie in some regards, not even known to some of the elder...

Present day.... The Earth trembled, but only for a moment. Aleister looked up from the pages of the penny novel he had been reading and focused on the frigid, stone wall before him, as if his gaze could penetrate the ancient stone wrought by hands long gone to time. Dust trickled from the...

"My former companions?" Aleister said, voice hollow. "A pack of wolves, more like. Half of them did not heed my warnings, my concerns. Perhaps if they had, Velin wouldn't have left us with thousands less to fight the demons, hmm?" He looked away in disgust - at his memories, his thoughts...

Aleister remained quiet for a long time, his gaze occasionally shifting from one thing to another - away from Undite and across the tiled floor, settling on some place close yet very far. The situation was as he feared, if not worse. She wouldn't have come here unless it was necessary. There...

A week and a half ago... The Lunar Cathedral, St. Gwyndolin Nocturne, the Nocturne Isles The cathedral at this time of day - sunset - was effectively early morning for the vampiric citizenry, and by extension, their not-so-distant kin who had opted to settle on the islands with them in a safe...

It was with some interest that Lady Valentova watched the victorious Ser Faralt make his approach to their seating box. Froste's booth was well situated near the ground that anyone could practically leap inside, whether to escape the arena or the boredom of conversation. When it became apparent...

Lady Valentova smiled sweetly as Lorde Froste took the offered gift, the bone flute. The burden had been placed and he would be forced to respond in some manner, given that he was a wise enough lord, and one surrounded with likewise intelligent retainers who would not allow him to move forwards...

It was, with some degree of rare introspection and a moment of bewilderment, that Lady Annaliese Valentova found herself seated beside her prospective partner for courtship; and, seated directly beside him on the opposite side, was some ridiculous damsel playing the same game as her. Just merely...

Even as the first rounds of the tournament began, Annaliese Valentova yawned. The appearance of Ser Faralt all but guaranteed who would win the championship now. He was pretty to look out, from afar, and she beckoned for a small pair of magnifying scopes on a little stick - an oddity she had...

Lady Annaliese Valentova stretched her legs out upon the bench before her, a rather unladylike position but one none dared to contradict. Their little booth reserved for them was diminutive, as to be expected, but it did not irritate her any less. Some of her servants had to stand in the back...

Lady Valentova listened with a hint of distaste as Lord Harkren spoke on, but she plucked the words from the air with thought to consider them well. She knew little of the princes - after all, why would she ever care about a group of such imbeciles - but Harkren more or less affirmed what she...