Under the vibrant dawn above Buranikka, among the shadowed streets, a tall red-haired man made his way through the empty space. Clad in Blade’s equipment, he carried a blue dress in one hand, and an eerily smooth white sphere in another. Every divine armament had a soul, and that was its vessel.
“Haa, one overpowered scumbag less, at least.” Keyaruga muttered. His plans were brutalized by the circumstances. First he got knocked out by the Hero of the Sword, then she passed out right when the fun barely began, and ultimately, lost her mind for good.
Did she really die? Or did that god of the sword take her away? No matter, this is already more than all other gods ever did for their heroes, after all. After I deal with my Norn, we’ll have to focus on Bullet.
Ah yes, Bullet. A giant black-skinned musclehead, the infamous pedophile, and one of the smartest men in the world. He couldn’t be left alive, no matter what.
We’ll be getting that divine beast, Caladrius, for Eve. And then what? Should we overthrow Hakuo? Or hunt down Bullet? Guess there’s only one way to find out.
Having finished with his pondering, the man gave a quick glance at his spoil of war. This thing could become anything he wanted, any weapon or armor. Alas, a hero had only one chance to get his prize, and if it proves unsatisfactory, there would be no way to change it. And since a god-chosen could only wield one, not even acquiring another of those ten things could help with that. Ideally, each hero should’ve got one. But since it wasn’t an ideal world…
…
Keyaruga crossed the threshold of Tidir’s inn. He liked that place, despite each and every supernatural connotation of its master. Speaking of whom, the blue-feathered bird-man sat on his place. Usually, he would just stare into his book, and pretend nothing exists, until approached by another set of annoying customers. But this time, he was speaking to a woman of empyrean beauty (provided an illegible cawing was indeed speech).
“Well-well-well…” The Hero of Healing sneered, looking at the deity. She couldn’t be anyone below that rank. Her naked body was supposed to be stunningly alluring, and yet the man felt almost none of carnal impulses. Her loose hair consisted of assorted leaves, flowers, plants. They bloomed and withered in a matter of mere seconds, rotting into nothingness to give place for new flora to thrive their instants. Her kind expression wasn’t diluted even with her eerily closed eyes. But more than anything, the lad was struck by the pale green hue he could register with his jade eye. “Panakea, I presume?” He asked, approaching the gods.
“Khe! Leaving! You speak to mother!” Tidir cawed, slamming the door behind him. Whatever the reasoning, in this moment he clearly wanted to be as far away from Keyaruga as far as possible.
“…” And then, the goddess began talking. No words left her mouth, instead the man’s mind was assaulted with foreign thoughts. Pictures, visions, concepts – as the deity opened her golden eyes, the flood of information that transcended mortal speech rammed Keyaruga’s consciousness. There was no place for uncertainty or misunderstanding in her intentions.
“One question, huh?” The hero mused, averting his gaze from Panakea’s eyes. Her sight was impossibly oppressing, she was dominating his will simply by looking in the lad’s direction. The man could stand up against this pressure only because of his mastery over memories.
Still, however unnerving the healer’s patron turned out to be, she offered him a deal. A nice one in that. One question, one answer. Every forbidden knowledge about this world Panakea could provide, she would give with no additional conditions. Even the possible consequences the woman promised to deal with herself.
What should I ask? The King of Jioral’s true nature? Maybe I should inquire about this guardian spirit of mine? Where to get all of the divine armaments? The Philosopher’s Stone? Or maybe… why the fuck did she make me suffer through all of that? Suffer… Wait…
“Tell me about Eve. What is it she couldn’t protect?” Keyaruga asked with no regard as to whether or not the goddess remembered the first world. He needed to know, even if that barely mattered now, even if all of that only remained in the erased future.
“…” Panakea replied with a keen smile. Then, the floor vanished under the man’s feet. He fell to the pit, and found himself in the infinite void.
“Hmm…” Keyaruga murmured, glancing through the bottomless pit of darkness. With no resonance in his throat, he was quick to notice that something was wrong. Aside from complete blindness, he felt disembodied.
Although, it wasn’t long before that emptiness took form. Nothingness morphed into black chunks, and they formed the forest, the night sky, flora and fauna. Hunters… and their prey.
“This… I remember this.” The hero mused, watching as dark clay transformed into lions, their riders, and… “This is when Eve lost her last guardians.”
The healer found himself in a full-scale diorama, the still three-dimensional image of the past. A spectacle for but a single viewer.
“Is this how I have to commune with you, Panakea?” The man asked, floating amongst the armored bloodthirsty demons. Their fervor, thrill, exaltation – these were the marks of beast-hood, savagery, memorialized in the goddess’ mind.
“…” She answered with agreement, through the purest concept of confirmation. So powerful, so crystal, that the lad couldn’t help but feel his sanity slowly draining away.
“If you want to speak, speak in a humane way. I prefer having normal conversations, face to face.” Keyaruga demanded, focusing his mana. His arcane powers never faded away, yet they were distant, unnervingly detached. But even this thin string turned out enough to awaken the jade eye. “I can see through this charade, Panakea. Show yourself, or I’m leaving.” He warned, as the waves of magic re-anchored the hero’s consciousness into his body. His flesh had taken form in glittering shards of reality.
“A goddess… gives you a chance of such rarity… and you turn away?” A voice, equally beautiful as it was distorted, made itself known. What side did it ring from? Above? Below? Everywhere? The lad turned his newly-formed head back. His eyes met with the deity. The latter stood on the void, in a completely gravity-defying manner, she walked upside down. And neither her leafy hair, nor her bare chest sagged in the direction of earth.
“Great. So you can speak normally, after all.” Keyaruga sneered, watching as the woman approached him, as if moving through an invisible pipe. The closer she got, the more grounded her footing became. Until both the hero and the goddess of healing stood in a single line. “First things first, if you crawl in my mind, I’ll leave. If you coerce me into something, I’ll fight back.” I won’t give away my agency, no matter for how long, and what can I get from it.
“He-e-e…” In a frantically bizarre nature, the embodiment of constant rebirth beamed at the lad. “Words… are constrictive… my boy.” She stated, seemingly struggling with Phasian pronunciation. Was it so much below her? Or rather it was Panakea’s limitations that caused it?
“Words equalize us, and I had a pretty rough night for verses in pure emotions, my girl.” The man scoffed, completely unhinged in the presence of his deity. He didn’t ask for his mark, nor his burden, after all. “It would do you good to conjure some clothes, by the way.”
“N-no-o. It… s-s… Shackling.” She responded, while Keyaruga averted his eyes toward the frozen scene of chase. “For all… o-of us.” The woman added, recalling the time when she wore a toga. A kind of attire she one could only put on with a slave’s help. And even though there were plenty of other garbs to wear, she reveled in her nudity a little too much.
“I see. Well, we don’t like exposure. Cold, sun, insects, thorns, rubble, claws, and… mind trickery.” Keyaruga admitted, as his jade sight scanned through the grand illusion. How it worked, what it responded to, and… how to navigate in this extravagant piece of imagery.
The Hero of Healing walked through the forest. He carefully assessed the pursuers. Batnara shashu, the ruling lion tribe, named after the fact that their patriarch governs Tenanulic from the Obsidian throne. A bunch of hounds, riding unnaturally resilient beasts.
“Yuel stood no chance. Neither did Mero.” Keyaruga deadpanned, glancing at the corpses of the defeated black-winged men. Yuel was swift, but feeble. Mero was a mighty bruiser, but no matter how much lions’ necks you could break with bare hands, they were just too many. “And this is… what was her name?”
“Naala.” Panakea made a hint. She followed her chosen one, mostly as a silent spectator. For him, she was never an idol to be praised. For her, though…
“Yes, Naala. She died anyway.” The lad spoke, swiping his hand to move the sequence further. This world, this eternalized memory was created for his sake, but not as the man’s playground. The fact that he managed to snatch control of it away from the deity… wasn’t all that surprising, seeing what sort of entity followed his trail anywhere he went. “This is where Eve’s memory ends, though.” He said, watching his current companion lying helpless after she poured most of her strength into a single spell. A devastating one, but utterly pathetic in its results. “You don’t happen to know about that, do you?”
“He-he-eh… La-ater.” Panakea chuckled, casually shaking the man’s shoulder. This felt weird, almost as if Keyaruga stood in the presence of some child, eager to share her mischievous deeds with a peer.
“Damn, what’s wrong with you?.. Ah, heck. There’s more to see here.” The lad murmured, putting things in motion. Or, rather, let the static pictures change one another.
Nothing strained from the range of the man’s expectations. Some goon took Naala’s fresh corpse for indignities, another punched him in the face to be the first, then a third, and the fourth… Honestly, too much brutality to keep track of. But Eve...
He watched, as some brute took Eve by her narrow foot and dragged her into the middle of their loose formation. Keyaruga creaked his teeth, as his arm phased through the fiend’s body.
“It’s just the memories…” The hero whispered, trying to calm his nerves. He had witnessed rapes plenty of times, he was the victim and the perpetrator, and yet, he couldn’t help but shudder, as he was about to see the queen-to-be brutalized by a bunch of leonine beasts.
What’s even worse, the lad felt Panakea’s derision behind his back. And he couldn’t even blame her for that. The lad was just too emotional when it came to his companions.
Do you find it funny, wench? Did you also mock me, when I was dragged like a slave?
“No-o… I… was making a b-b-bless… ing for you.” The goddess admitted with quite surprising cheerfulness in light of her stuttering. She couldn’t resist sending a message straight into Keyaruga’s brain.
What did I say about crawling in my head?
“So… My poison resistance was your gift all along?” The man asked, turning his head toward the deity. One would presume, she would stand proud and strong, but in reality, her golden eyes were one of a happy puppy after a master’s praise. So much infantilism, so much childlikeness, it just demolished any traces of sexual attractiveness from the naked woman for him, which says a lot, seeing as she was a beauty of a divine scale with no garbs whatsoever.
Seems like eating all those grebes wasn’t really required, huh?
“Thanks, I guess…” Keyaruga spoke, turning away. It took Panakea three whole years to calculate, compose, and implement this skill into the Laws of Deimos. She even had a confrontation with the god of fear himself for that. Fortunately, though, it took the goddess only a month to remake her masterpiece in this world. “And Tidir is your son, I suppose. Not hard to guess, why he dislikes you… Well then, how can I repay you?”
“Don’t… think too much of that. Do… what you must do.” She replied, pointing her finger at Eve. Panakea completely entrusted the metaphorical keys to this theater to Keyaruga. It was his call, whether to look further… or just walk away.
Still, the man remained. He braced himself for a vision of cruelty, something so atrocious, Eve’s mind just refused to register it. And he… was not disappointed.
Suddenly, an imposing figure entered the scene on his lion. While other lions wielded spears, polearms, axes and whatever could cut and slice, this warlord-looking monstrosity carried a stick. It was a long and sturdy stick, but primitive nonetheless. With this, he effortlessly smacked the brute, who dragged Eve, into submission.
“I’m kind of glad all of this is just a mute reflection.” Keyaruga admitted, watching at Eve’s fruitless attempts to break free. He looked at the man, with his size and bulk, he towered above not only the tiny feathered girl, but all of his troops as well. But what’s more interesting… “He… won’t harm her?”
“Look!” Ultimately, Panakea waved her hand, and everything turned into chaos again. Nothing to see, nothing to hear, and yet the duo of spectators still existed in the void. The goddess razed everything into abyss just to recreate another scene.
Another fight, another battle. Two massive armies clashed amidst the barren mountain plains. Under the gloomy sky, they cropped the rocks with their blood, sweat and tears.
“What have you done? Where are we? What happened to Eve?” Keyaruga asked brashly. With the time lapse between these two events being unknown, the man couldn’t help but unleash his wrath at the deity, he grabbed her by the shoulders, began unapologetically shaking her body…
The next moment they two stood amongst the corpses, amidst the valiant warriors of all southern races and tribes. Two sides, two opposing forces. One, under a banner of a lion’s maw, had their formations torn into by another side. Standing under a flag of the black bloodied wing… Wait, WHAT?!
Eve was there, wearing frivolous dress of black and red, she loomed above the battlefield, showering her foes with manifold of piercing light. Spells and arrows spurred from the spherical barrier around the maiden… No, not the maiden.
She’s pregnant here, I can see… And this standard-bearer… “What the fuck is going on, Panakea?! What is it?!” The man raged, seeing the same lion fighting alongside Eve. A flag trembled on his spear, the flag of Eve… alongside a dried severed head. Not only him, but multiple kokuyoku, mostly female, clashed on the same side as this beastman.
“This… This is love!” Panakea declared, trying to hug Keyaruga. Alas, the latter just pushed the goddess away from him just to take a closer look at the decapitated one.
“I don’t believe in love.” He said, looking at the hare-eared head. It was rotting, but even so, he managed to get a grasp on his main facial features. Must be one of the iuei saraga, the tribe of star rabbits. But why? Aren’t they supposed to be the kokuyoku’s allies?
“Wha-a… t do you… beli-i-eve, m-my boy?” Panakea wondered, hugging the lad from behind. For the healer, this experience was transcendental as it was deceptive, and now it also felt unfair. Was it truth? A beautifully constructed lie? No, something in between.
“You’re hiding quite a lot from me, Panakea.” The hero stated, looking beyond the skirmish. A menacing spire overlooked the field. This… was Kinacrith. And Eve battled against Hakuo’s forces.
“He-he-e… Demon king… be… betrayed Cornar… Wanted to… wipe him… and Eve Reese… They survived… formed a pact… Found love…” The goddess of healing explained briefly.
“It’s Me-ua, ma-zok pora bantaru(the ruler of the people of magic).” Keyaruga said, glancing toward the distant peak of the spire-like fortress. “Also, you’re being awfully ambiguous now, Panakea.”
“All… w-words are… I can… show… more…” The deity offered, taking the man’s hand. She was surprisingly clingy for a higher creature of her rank.
“All I wanted was to see who Eve was trying to protect. That’s it.” The man said wearily. Looking at that man filled him with unreasonable dread, envy… jealousy. He wouldn’t admit it, but the hero wanted to be there for Eve.
“He-he-he-e…” And Panakea clearly understood his heart’s motives. Underneath her feigned naiveté, the goddess harbored aged wisdom and undiluted love. Who knows which of those traits posed more danger and risk…
Without any further delay, the woman shifted her illusion to its ultimate end. This time, they found themselves in the middle of grim ruins, underneath the crumbling roof of some dilapidated temple. This scene wasn’t about battle, glory, or any sort of valor. Keyaruga stood in the middle of misery. Scourged children, crippled men, dying women. An old man throwing up his own blood, a kid trying to wake up his long dead mother. Probably, the smell was also terrible. The hero couldn’t tell, the spectacle was purely visual. But even that was enough.
“This… is Norn’s doing. And what I allowed her to do.” The lad pronounced tiredly. They’re… All of them are good as dead. They’re starving, they’re sick, they’re… No doubt, this is how Norn deserved her death.
Every step brought Keyaruga closer to Eve. He moved through the ranks of incorporeal wretched, the tribe doomed to death. Jioral would never leave them alone, and even if it did, these accursed lands could never feed a single soul, and there were hundreds of them. Hundreds of broken malnourished refugees, some of which literally fed fleas and flies with their necrotic bodies.
She was there, caressing the feeble, comforting the dying. Even in such a desperate predicament, the queen hadn’t lost her dignity, nor her compassion. Seeing the kokuyoku scion serving as a beacon of hope for her nearly extinct people filled Keyaruga with a strange mix of pride, joy, and existential horror.
The next episode only aggravated these emotions.
Eve Reese was preparing to head on to her last battle. Her might was immense, she could destroy the entire armies with… whatever spell or power she had in her, but even so, the Confederation had been defeated. Butchered, divided, conquered and scourged. Barely anyone can go on after losing so much. Unless that is, they had something to fight for.
The last diorama was about the family. A mother calming her three-year old son, knowing she might not come back. A father, caressing the starving half-blood infant. While the black-winged girl practically ascended to the demi-godhood, her leonine husband had lost his right hand and the left shin. His right eye was burned out, and the left barely even functioned. Hardly anything remained of that proud flag-bearer. And even so, the brave Me-ua never left him.
“S-see-e?” Panakea spoke, caressing Keyaruga’s hand. “D-do you… b-believe… now?”
“I believe you should work on your pronunciation…” The hero growled, turning away from the scene. Another goal was complete, now he knew exactly what Eve was trying to protect. What… she died for.
Then, a bright emerald hue emerged from the man’s right eye. The guiding light illuminated his way out of this memorial. He made a step… and approached Panakea in the waking world.
“What happened to him? After… you know?” He whispered in the deity’s ear. He was shown three distinct memories, and yet a mere second passed in reality. Once again did the man found himself carrying the white sphere and the fated dress.
“…” Alas, this time the deity remained silent. Her will, her smile did all the talking. The last brief picture she sent him was about Eve, radiating the aura of green, murdering her would-be-husband with a sphere of scourging light.
Panakea saved the maiden, she never shied away from it. She even admitted, that the black-winged girl would never find her way to Keyaruga if not for her. That she and Takemikazuchi saved his companions from a their doom.
“Pff… Ha-ha-ha… You’re a fucking monster, Panakea.” The red-haired lad scoffed, walking toward the stairs. He was drained, as if the sleepless night wasn’t enough, this revelation too took a toll on him.
You, gods, are all the same fucking thing. Think you can just bribe people into doing whatever you like. You… Why didn’t you…
Alas, the Hero of Healing couldn’t continue his line of thinking. He almost missed the door to his room, after all. Panakea gave him a key to his collar, she never chastised him for how and when he used it. She watched out for him. But most of all…
“Hey there girls… I’m back.” The man said, entering his room. It took a lot of agility to not only open the door, but not to drop the ball. Either way, at this point, the hero was almost completely exhausted, so what he saw inside took him a moment to process. Well…
“Master Keyaruga-a-a-a!!!” At first, he would have to somehow handle a frisky half-haked wolf-girl, jumping on his neck.
“Glad to see you too, Setsuna.” The healer spoke, crumbling to his knees. From the way it looked, the huntress had been training with Eve, while Freia washed their clothes from dirt and blood. Their blood.
“Keyaruga… Look, we have…” The black-haired maiden, on the other hand, got a little bit disturbed by the man’s arrival.
“You girls ran into Hawkeye, and he did a number on you. Yeah, I know that much.” The lad spoke, awkwardly trying to get up. As he did so, the she-wolf did her best to support him.
“Are you not… mad at us?” The kokuyoku scion timidly asked, still unsure what to do. Now that Keyaruga knew about her past, what she had, and what she had lost by Panakea’s ‘grace’, his attitude would never be the same. Or…
“Look, he’s a demigod (literally, his dad deflowered the goddess of hunt) with forty-three years of battles behind his back. He’d served under Jogarn Thur Jioral in his prime days, and he’s been specializing in butchering the likes of you, high-leveled, yet inexperienced kids.” The man said, picking up the orb he took from Blade. With it in his hands, he approached the melancholic sorceress, which ultimately ruined her attempt to fade out of existence. “You don’t have to feel so bad, Freia. Organ is at his peak, while you three are just getting started.”
“I know, you’re trying to be nice, but I nearly got us all killed…” The girl said, soaking her bolero in the trough. Surprisingly enough, that defeat motivated Eve and Setsuna to train harder and to take a revanche. Freia? This only bolstered her own self-loathing issues. “I… must congratulate you, though. This was Josephine’s, I think…”
Oh gods, I’m so sleepy… But this just simply will not do.
“H-how was… E-e-eh?!” The princess squeaked. Not such an unnatural reaction, when a strong man picks you up and carries you to the bed. “W-what’re you?.. Do you want to-?..”
“He-heh… What do I want? I wonder…” Keyaruga scoffed, laying the magician on their bed. He began undressing himself, tossing away the cuirass and the rugs he looted from the Hero of Sword. And after he finally undressed…
He hugged the princess, closed his eyes, and fell right into a dream. When Setsuna covered all three of them with a blanket, he had already been asleep.
“…” Eve, left completely unaddressed, sat in the corner of the bed. Before she knew it, the maiden too succumbed to the slumber.
Under the vibrant dawn above Buranikka, among the shadowed streets, a tall red-haired man made his way through the empty space. Clad in Blade’s equipment, he carried a blue dress in one hand, and an eerily smooth white sphere in another. Every divine armament had a soul, and that was its vessel.
“Haa, one overpowered scumbag less, at least.” Keyaruga muttered. His plans were brutalized by the circumstances. First he got knocked out by the Hero of the Sword, then she passed out right when the fun barely began, and ultimately, lost her mind for good.
Did she really die? Or did that god of the sword take her away? No matter, this is already more than all other gods ever did for their heroes, after all. After I deal with my Norn, we’ll have to focus on Bullet.
Ah yes, Bullet. A giant black-skinned musclehead, the infamous pedophile, and one of the smartest men in the world. He couldn’t be left alive, no matter what.
We’ll be getting that divine beast, Caladrius, for Eve. And then what? Should we overthrow Hakuo? Or hunt down Bullet? Guess there’s only one way to find out.
Having finished with his pondering, the man gave a quick glance at his spoil of war. This thing could become anything he wanted, any weapon or armor. Alas, a hero had only one chance to get his prize, and if it proves unsatisfactory, there would be no way to change it. And since a god-chosen could only wield one, not even acquiring another of those ten things could help with that. Ideally, each hero should’ve got one. But since it wasn’t an ideal world…
…
Keyaruga crossed the threshold of Tidir’s inn. He liked that place, despite each and every supernatural connotation of its master. Speaking of whom, the blue-feathered bird-man sat on his place. Usually, he would just stare into his book, and pretend nothing exists, until approached by another set of annoying customers. But this time, he was speaking to a woman of empyrean beauty (provided an illegible cawing was indeed speech).
“Well-well-well…” The Hero of Healing sneered, looking at the deity. She couldn’t be anyone below that rank. Her naked body was supposed to be stunningly alluring, and yet the man felt almost none of carnal impulses. Her loose hair consisted of assorted leaves, flowers, plants. They bloomed and withered in a matter of mere seconds, rotting into nothingness to give place for new flora to thrive their instants. Her kind expression wasn’t diluted even with her eerily closed eyes. But more than anything, the lad was struck by the pale green hue he could register with his jade eye. “Panakea, I presume?” He asked, approaching the gods.
“Khe! Leaving! You speak to mother!” Tidir cawed, slamming the door behind him. Whatever the reasoning, in this moment he clearly wanted to be as far away from Keyaruga as far as possible.
“…” And then, the goddess began talking. No words left her mouth, instead the man’s mind was assaulted with foreign thoughts. Pictures, visions, concepts – as the deity opened her golden eyes, the flood of information that transcended mortal speech rammed Keyaruga’s consciousness. There was no place for uncertainty or misunderstanding in her intentions.
“One question, huh?” The hero mused, averting his gaze from Panakea’s eyes. Her sight was impossibly oppressing, she was dominating his will simply by looking in the lad’s direction. The man could stand up against this pressure only because of his mastery over memories.
Still, however unnerving the healer’s patron turned out to be, she offered him a deal. A nice one in that. One question, one answer. Every forbidden knowledge about this world Panakea could provide, she would give with no additional conditions. Even the possible consequences the woman promised to deal with herself.
What should I ask? The King of Jioral’s true nature? Maybe I should inquire about this guardian spirit of mine? Where to get all of the divine armaments? The Philosopher’s Stone? Or maybe… why the fuck did she make me suffer through all of that? Suffer… Wait…
“Tell me about Eve. What is it she couldn’t protect?” Keyaruga asked with no regard as to whether or not the goddess remembered the first world. He needed to know, even if that barely mattered now, even if all of that only remained in the erased future.
“…” Panakea replied with a keen smile. Then, the floor vanished under the man’s feet. He fell to the pit, and found himself in the infinite void.
“Hmm…” Keyaruga murmured, glancing through the bottomless pit of darkness. With no resonance in his throat, he was quick to notice that something was wrong. Aside from complete blindness, he felt disembodied.
Although, it wasn’t long before that emptiness took form. Nothingness morphed into black chunks, and they formed the forest, the night sky, flora and fauna. Hunters… and their prey.
“This… I remember this.” The hero mused, watching as dark clay transformed into lions, their riders, and… “This is when Eve lost her last guardians.”
The healer found himself in a full-scale diorama, the still three-dimensional image of the past. A spectacle for but a single viewer.
“Is this how I have to commune with you, Panakea?” The man asked, floating amongst the armored bloodthirsty demons. Their fervor, thrill, exaltation – these were the marks of beast-hood, savagery, memorialized in the goddess’ mind.
“…” She answered with agreement, through the purest concept of confirmation. So powerful, so crystal, that the lad couldn’t help but feel his sanity slowly draining away.
“If you want to speak, speak in a humane way. I prefer having normal conversations, face to face.” Keyaruga demanded, focusing his mana. His arcane powers never faded away, yet they were distant, unnervingly detached. But even this thin string turned out enough to awaken the jade eye. “I can see through this charade, Panakea. Show yourself, or I’m leaving.” He warned, as the waves of magic re-anchored the hero’s consciousness into his body. His flesh had taken form in glittering shards of reality.
“A goddess… gives you a chance of such rarity… and you turn away?” A voice, equally beautiful as it was distorted, made itself known. What side did it ring from? Above? Below? Everywhere? The lad turned his newly-formed head back. His eyes met with the deity. The latter stood on the void, in a completely gravity-defying manner, she walked upside down. And neither her leafy hair, nor her bare chest sagged in the direction of earth.
“Great. So you can speak normally, after all.” Keyaruga sneered, watching as the woman approached him, as if moving through an invisible pipe. The closer she got, the more grounded her footing became. Until both the hero and the goddess of healing stood in a single line. “First things first, if you crawl in my mind, I’ll leave. If you coerce me into something, I’ll fight back.” I won’t give away my agency, no matter for how long, and what can I get from it.
“He-e-e…” In a frantically bizarre nature, the embodiment of constant rebirth beamed at the lad. “Words… are constrictive… my boy.” She stated, seemingly struggling with Phasian pronunciation. Was it so much below her? Or rather it was Panakea’s limitations that caused it?
“Words equalize us, and I had a pretty rough night for verses in pure emotions, my girl.” The man scoffed, completely unhinged in the presence of his deity. He didn’t ask for his mark, nor his burden, after all. “It would do you good to conjure some clothes, by the way.”
“N-no-o. It… s-s… Shackling.” She responded, while Keyaruga averted his eyes toward the frozen scene of chase. “For all… o-of us.” The woman added, recalling the time when she wore a toga. A kind of attire she one could only put on with a slave’s help. And even though there were plenty of other garbs to wear, she reveled in her nudity a little too much.
“I see. Well, we don’t like exposure. Cold, sun, insects, thorns, rubble, claws, and… mind trickery.” Keyaruga admitted, as his jade sight scanned through the grand illusion. How it worked, what it responded to, and… how to navigate in this extravagant piece of imagery.
The Hero of Healing walked through the forest. He carefully assessed the pursuers. Batnara shashu, the ruling lion tribe, named after the fact that their patriarch governs Tenanulic from the Obsidian throne. A bunch of hounds, riding unnaturally resilient beasts.
“Yuel stood no chance. Neither did Mero.” Keyaruga deadpanned, glancing at the corpses of the defeated black-winged men. Yuel was swift, but feeble. Mero was a mighty bruiser, but no matter how much lions’ necks you could break with bare hands, they were just too many. “And this is… what was her name?”
“Naala.” Panakea made a hint. She followed her chosen one, mostly as a silent spectator. For him, she was never an idol to be praised. For her, though…
“Yes, Naala. She died anyway.” The lad spoke, swiping his hand to move the sequence further. This world, this eternalized memory was created for his sake, but not as the man’s playground. The fact that he managed to snatch control of it away from the deity… wasn’t all that surprising, seeing what sort of entity followed his trail anywhere he went. “This is where Eve’s memory ends, though.” He said, watching his current companion lying helpless after she poured most of her strength into a single spell. A devastating one, but utterly pathetic in its results. “You don’t happen to know about that, do you?”
“He-he-eh… La-ater.” Panakea chuckled, casually shaking the man’s shoulder. This felt weird, almost as if Keyaruga stood in the presence of some child, eager to share her mischievous deeds with a peer.
“Damn, what’s wrong with you?.. Ah, heck. There’s more to see here.” The lad murmured, putting things in motion. Or, rather, let the static pictures change one another.
Nothing strained from the range of the man’s expectations. Some goon took Naala’s fresh corpse for indignities, another punched him in the face to be the first, then a third, and the fourth… Honestly, too much brutality to keep track of. But Eve...
He watched, as some brute took Eve by her narrow foot and dragged her into the middle of their loose formation. Keyaruga creaked his teeth, as his arm phased through the fiend’s body.
“It’s just the memories…” The hero whispered, trying to calm his nerves. He had witnessed rapes plenty of times, he was the victim and the perpetrator, and yet, he couldn’t help but shudder, as he was about to see the queen-to-be brutalized by a bunch of leonine beasts.
What’s even worse, the lad felt Panakea’s derision behind his back. And he couldn’t even blame her for that. The lad was just too emotional when it came to his companions.
Do you find it funny, wench? Did you also mock me, when I was dragged like a slave?
“No-o… I… was making a b-b-bless… ing for you.” The goddess admitted with quite surprising cheerfulness in light of her stuttering. She couldn’t resist sending a message straight into Keyaruga’s brain.
What did I say about crawling in my head?
“So… My poison resistance was your gift all along?” The man asked, turning his head toward the deity. One would presume, she would stand proud and strong, but in reality, her golden eyes were one of a happy puppy after a master’s praise. So much infantilism, so much childlikeness, it just demolished any traces of sexual attractiveness from the naked woman for him, which says a lot, seeing as she was a beauty of a divine scale with no garbs whatsoever.
Seems like eating all those grebes wasn’t really required, huh?
“Thanks, I guess…” Keyaruga spoke, turning away. It took Panakea three whole years to calculate, compose, and implement this skill into the Laws of Deimos. She even had a confrontation with the god of fear himself for that. Fortunately, though, it took the goddess only a month to remake her masterpiece in this world. “And Tidir is your son, I suppose. Not hard to guess, why he dislikes you… Well then, how can I repay you?”
“Don’t… think too much of that. Do… what you must do.” She replied, pointing her finger at Eve. Panakea completely entrusted the metaphorical keys to this theater to Keyaruga. It was his call, whether to look further… or just walk away.
Still, the man remained. He braced himself for a vision of cruelty, something so atrocious, Eve’s mind just refused to register it. And he… was not disappointed.
Suddenly, an imposing figure entered the scene on his lion. While other lions wielded spears, polearms, axes and whatever could cut and slice, this warlord-looking monstrosity carried a stick. It was a long and sturdy stick, but primitive nonetheless. With this, he effortlessly smacked the brute, who dragged Eve, into submission.
“I’m kind of glad all of this is just a mute reflection.” Keyaruga admitted, watching at Eve’s fruitless attempts to break free. He looked at the man, with his size and bulk, he towered above not only the tiny feathered girl, but all of his troops as well. But what’s more interesting… “He… won’t harm her?”
“Look!” Ultimately, Panakea waved her hand, and everything turned into chaos again. Nothing to see, nothing to hear, and yet the duo of spectators still existed in the void. The goddess razed everything into abyss just to recreate another scene.
Another fight, another battle. Two massive armies clashed amidst the barren mountain plains. Under the gloomy sky, they cropped the rocks with their blood, sweat and tears.
“What have you done? Where are we? What happened to Eve?” Keyaruga asked brashly. With the time lapse between these two events being unknown, the man couldn’t help but unleash his wrath at the deity, he grabbed her by the shoulders, began unapologetically shaking her body…
The next moment they two stood amongst the corpses, amidst the valiant warriors of all southern races and tribes. Two sides, two opposing forces. One, under a banner of a lion’s maw, had their formations torn into by another side. Standing under a flag of the black bloodied wing… Wait, WHAT?!
Eve was there, wearing frivolous dress of black and red, she loomed above the battlefield, showering her foes with manifold of piercing light. Spells and arrows spurred from the spherical barrier around the maiden… No, not the maiden.
She’s pregnant here, I can see… And this standard-bearer… “What the fuck is going on, Panakea?! What is it?!” The man raged, seeing the same lion fighting alongside Eve. A flag trembled on his spear, the flag of Eve… alongside a dried severed head. Not only him, but multiple kokuyoku, mostly female, clashed on the same side as this beastman.
“This… This is love!” Panakea declared, trying to hug Keyaruga. Alas, the latter just pushed the goddess away from him just to take a closer look at the decapitated one.
“I don’t believe in love.” He said, looking at the hare-eared head. It was rotting, but even so, he managed to get a grasp on his main facial features. Must be one of the iuei saraga, the tribe of star rabbits. But why? Aren’t they supposed to be the kokuyoku’s allies?
“Wha-a… t do you… beli-i-eve, m-my boy?” Panakea wondered, hugging the lad from behind. For the healer, this experience was transcendental as it was deceptive, and now it also felt unfair. Was it truth? A beautifully constructed lie? No, something in between.
“You’re hiding quite a lot from me, Panakea.” The hero stated, looking beyond the skirmish. A menacing spire overlooked the field. This… was Kinacrith. And Eve battled against Hakuo’s forces.
“He-he-e… Demon king… be… betrayed Cornar… Wanted to… wipe him… and Eve Reese… They survived… formed a pact… Found love…” The goddess of healing explained briefly.
“It’s Me-ua, ma-zok pora bantaru(the ruler of the people of magic).” Keyaruga said, glancing toward the distant peak of the spire-like fortress. “Also, you’re being awfully ambiguous now, Panakea.”
“All… w-words are… I can… show… more…” The deity offered, taking the man’s hand. She was surprisingly clingy for a higher creature of her rank.
“All I wanted was to see who Eve was trying to protect. That’s it.” The man said wearily. Looking at that man filled him with unreasonable dread, envy… jealousy. He wouldn’t admit it, but the hero wanted to be there for Eve.
“He-he-he-e…” And Panakea clearly understood his heart’s motives. Underneath her feigned naiveté, the goddess harbored aged wisdom and undiluted love. Who knows which of those traits posed more danger and risk…
Without any further delay, the woman shifted her illusion to its ultimate end. This time, they found themselves in the middle of grim ruins, underneath the crumbling roof of some dilapidated temple. This scene wasn’t about battle, glory, or any sort of valor. Keyaruga stood in the middle of misery. Scourged children, crippled men, dying women. An old man throwing up his own blood, a kid trying to wake up his long dead mother. Probably, the smell was also terrible. The hero couldn’t tell, the spectacle was purely visual. But even that was enough.
“This… is Norn’s doing. And what I allowed her to do.” The lad pronounced tiredly. They’re… All of them are good as dead. They’re starving, they’re sick, they’re… No doubt, this is how Norn deserved her death.
Every step brought Keyaruga closer to Eve. He moved through the ranks of incorporeal wretched, the tribe doomed to death. Jioral would never leave them alone, and even if it did, these accursed lands could never feed a single soul, and there were hundreds of them. Hundreds of broken malnourished refugees, some of which literally fed fleas and flies with their necrotic bodies.
She was there, caressing the feeble, comforting the dying. Even in such a desperate predicament, the queen hadn’t lost her dignity, nor her compassion. Seeing the kokuyoku scion serving as a beacon of hope for her nearly extinct people filled Keyaruga with a strange mix of pride, joy, and existential horror.
The next episode only aggravated these emotions.
Eve Reese was preparing to head on to her last battle. Her might was immense, she could destroy the entire armies with… whatever spell or power she had in her, but even so, the Confederation had been defeated. Butchered, divided, conquered and scourged. Barely anyone can go on after losing so much. Unless that is, they had something to fight for.
The last diorama was about the family. A mother calming her three-year old son, knowing she might not come back. A father, caressing the starving half-blood infant. While the black-winged girl practically ascended to the demi-godhood, her leonine husband had lost his right hand and the left shin. His right eye was burned out, and the left barely even functioned. Hardly anything remained of that proud flag-bearer. And even so, the brave Me-ua never left him.
“S-see-e?” Panakea spoke, caressing Keyaruga’s hand. “D-do you… b-believe… now?”
“I believe you should work on your pronunciation…” The hero growled, turning away from the scene. Another goal was complete, now he knew exactly what Eve was trying to protect. What… she died for.
Then, a bright emerald hue emerged from the man’s right eye. The guiding light illuminated his way out of this memorial. He made a step… and approached Panakea in the waking world.
“What happened to him? After… you know?” He whispered in the deity’s ear. He was shown three distinct memories, and yet a mere second passed in reality. Once again did the man found himself carrying the white sphere and the fated dress.
“…” Alas, this time the deity remained silent. Her will, her smile did all the talking. The last brief picture she sent him was about Eve, radiating the aura of green, murdering her would-be-husband with a sphere of scourging light.
Panakea saved the maiden, she never shied away from it. She even admitted, that the black-winged girl would never find her way to Keyaruga if not for her. That she and Takemikazuchi saved his companions from a their doom.
“Pff… Ha-ha-ha… You’re a fucking monster, Panakea.” The red-haired lad scoffed, walking toward the stairs. He was drained, as if the sleepless night wasn’t enough, this revelation too took a toll on him.
You, gods, are all the same fucking thing. Think you can just bribe people into doing whatever you like. You… Why didn’t you…
Alas, the Hero of Healing couldn’t continue his line of thinking. He almost missed the door to his room, after all. Panakea gave him a key to his collar, she never chastised him for how and when he used it. She watched out for him. But most of all…
“Hey there girls… I’m back.” The man said, entering his room. It took a lot of agility to not only open the door, but not to drop the ball. Either way, at this point, the hero was almost completely exhausted, so what he saw inside took him a moment to process. Well…
“Master Keyaruga-a-a-a!!!” At first, he would have to somehow handle a frisky half-haked wolf-girl, jumping on his neck.
“Glad to see you too, Setsuna.” The healer spoke, crumbling to his knees. From the way it looked, the huntress had been training with Eve, while Freia washed their clothes from dirt and blood. Their blood.
“Keyaruga… Look, we have…” The black-haired maiden, on the other hand, got a little bit disturbed by the man’s arrival.
“You girls ran into Hawkeye, and he did a number on you. Yeah, I know that much.” The lad spoke, awkwardly trying to get up. As he did so, the she-wolf did her best to support him.
“Are you not… mad at us?” The kokuyoku scion timidly asked, still unsure what to do. Now that Keyaruga knew about her past, what she had, and what she had lost by Panakea’s ‘grace’, his attitude would never be the same. Or…
“Look, he’s a demigod (literally, his dad deflowered the goddess of hunt) with forty-three years of battles behind his back. He’d served under Jogarn Thur Jioral in his prime days, and he’s been specializing in butchering the likes of you, high-leveled, yet inexperienced kids.” The man said, picking up the orb he took from Blade. With it in his hands, he approached the melancholic sorceress, which ultimately ruined her attempt to fade out of existence. “You don’t have to feel so bad, Freia. Organ is at his peak, while you three are just getting started.”
“I know, you’re trying to be nice, but I nearly got us all killed…” The girl said, soaking her bolero in the trough. Surprisingly enough, that defeat motivated Eve and Setsuna to train harder and to take a revanche. Freia? This only bolstered her own self-loathing issues. “I… must congratulate you, though. This was Josephine’s, I think…”
Oh gods, I’m so sleepy… But this just simply will not do.
“H-how was… E-e-eh?!” The princess squeaked. Not such an unnatural reaction, when a strong man picks you up and carries you to the bed. “W-what’re you?.. Do you want to-?..”
“He-heh… What do I want? I wonder…” Keyaruga scoffed, laying the magician on their bed. He began undressing himself, tossing away the cuirass and the rugs he looted from the Hero of Sword. And after he finally undressed…
He hugged the princess, closed his eyes, and fell right into a dream. When Setsuna covered all three of them with a blanket, he had already been asleep.
“…” Eve, left completely unaddressed, sat in the corner of the bed. Before she knew it, the maiden too succumbed to the slumber.
