Chapter 32 - The Esper Plane

Dais awoke with his arms above his head. Yet, he could not draw them down; it felt as if heavy chains were digging into his skin and he swore that he smelled the faint odor of blood--both foreign and his own. Then he yawned. When opening his eyes, his sight flooded with white. He was in a large, lavish white bed and almost everything in the space was white.

Dais let his arms drop to his sides. It must have all been some horrible dream. But where in the world was he? Unless he was dead. Now that couldn't possibly be good. Although the thought was comforting: ahh, a bittersweet release. But then again, if he were dead, why was everything so white? He never thought of himself as the holy, virtuous type. Maybe he was in limbo. Now wouldn't that just be goddamningly beautiful?

His hand swept back a silvery tress as he let out a sigh. Silvery tress? He blinked several times as his broad wings twitched in slight anxiety. Wings? Shit. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that his eyes were blue ice.

A rapping came to his door; a familiar voice spoke: "Good morning, Dais. Are you awake?" It was 'Ashy.' And he heard her. Not vibrating sounds within his mind. He really heard her.

He wanted to say "yes" but it stuck in his throat and came out as a squeak. The door's tumbler rolled and it pushed open. A dainty woman stepped over the threshold, her two pairs of arms sweeping down along her sides and pure black--deeper than a raven's jet--hair so dark that it seemed to pull the room from the very room itself as zigs, zags, peals and curves--twists of pale salmon red meandered through the cosmatic black forest--settled about her shoulders, rustling to a halt between her first pair of scapula which sprouted from an extremely elaborate coiffure just behind the crown of her head. The silky, clay-red dress swayed to a gentle stop above her comfortable-looking sandals, raising to her waist before being interrupted by a gem-encrusted belt of yellow gold then continuing on with a deep blue shirt that did little to suppress her obviously prominent chest, and over this she wore a small, aquamarine coat with a kimono style influencing it, yet the cuffs stopped a time before her wrists, and intricate designs swarmed over it, similar ones tattooed upon the calm features of her face, that and the jacket's color setting off the catlike orange of her eyes that held Dais' icy two of blue--she smiled through both of these and her lips. Dais stared.

She crossed her arms, self-satisfied. He looked down, then back to her face to meet her casual scowl. Dais was stunned, staring in utter amazement. "You...you're..."

She smiled. "Ashura. Queen of the Espers. Pleased to finally see you in person."

"Queen Ashura... w-where am I?"

She smiled again, her eyes folding to slits in a warm fashion. "Just Ashura or Ashy is fine. And you are on the Esper Plane. And no, you're not dead. You're...kinda...uhh, heh, unconscious. Sorta."

He paused. "Huh?"

"It's...complicated. But anyway," she quickly changed the subject, "there's someone here I believe you would like to meet." She beamed, glancing casually back over her shoulder. A chill hush fell over the already silent room.

Another woman, a fair bit taller than the Esper Queen and himself walked past her, dressed in a tunic of silver and white, the rest of her slender form being covered with a loose and flowing under-tunic, omitting her hands and head. In a slender hand was gripped a large spear that shimmered like moonlight. He looked to her face. Upon a smooth neck rest a kind angular visage, humble and warm yet holding firm gravitas and authority. He looked at her.

Something was very wrong. Something about her was familiar yet alien and distant--albeit comforting. It scared him. The way a large braid of her brown hair rest tied back between her shoulder blades while the rest lay about her shoulders, shining in variants of warm browns, to deeper hues, and even a slight of dark honey as a soft light reflected from the strands. It scared him. It was familiar. The way the feathery wings folder on her back gave off such reflective light. It scared him. The sight was breath-taking. The way her cold, sharp, icy blue eyes took him in and held his soul. And it scared him. Because they were his own.

Dais blanched and stared, mouth open in utter shock. He was speechless. This slightly taller woman released her great spear and it suddenly blinked from existence in a purple wisp. Ashura raised two small hands to her, smiling endearingly at him as she spoke. "Sir Dais Rhine, I would like you to meet...your mother, Keltia."

Tears flooded his eyes and blurred his vision. His heart jumped into his throat and he found taking a breath to be wholly difficult. His mother. Finally Dais threw back the sheets and leapt to his feet, wings wide as he jumped into her open arms, gripping her tightly as her wings cocooned protectively around him. She kissed his brow as she stroked back his silvery hair. "Mama...why..?"

"My dear boy... Shall we speak of this over tea?"

"How does it taste?"

"Mm... Lapisen. Very good."

Ashura smiled. "I'm glad you approve; I made it myself."

Dais set down the cup and looked directly at his mother. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Why didn't I know? Who and what the hell am I?"

"Let's start with the easy questions first, shall we, Keltia?"

She nodded agreement. "You are Dais Rhine: skilled swordsman incubated and born on the Esper Plane and raised by Haruka Rhine in the hamlet of Deyajin. Your blood lineage is one-half Esper, one-quarter Human, and one-quarter Dragon."

The color once again drained from his face. "... Incubated...Dragon..?"

Keltia smiled warmly. Whether it was warm with pride or apology, Dais couldn't be sure. Probably both. "You were conceived roughly 500 years ago on the ship of a powerful, benevolent, and dashing sorcerer named Ion János." She smiled peacefully into the skyward corner of the room, a tear rolling down her cheek. She looked back to Dais. Wistfully. "Your father." Keltia sighed and wiped away her tears. Dais stared on, wide-eyed, massaging his throbbing head.

Keltia went on. "Ion was a kind and wise man, barely ten years older than yourself. I remember him well...his argent hair and golden eyes. He was like a miracle." She paused. "As you know, sorcerers have Dragon's blood running through their veins; your father was a half-breed. Do you understand this?" Dais nodded. "Good boy. Haruka taught you well."

Dais' locked eyes faltered. Keltia frowned to herself but went on. "Now that that's explained... Ion was the lord of a northern country that doesn't exist any longer after making a successful coup of the then tyrannical government. After making revisions to his land and making a secure alliance with the surrounding countries, he gathered the strongest of his warriors and set sail to bring about peace with the end of the oppressive leaders across the Vestian Sea. Yes, that Vestia. Over time it has gone from an ocean, to a vast and verdant yet isolated plain, to a barren, life-forsaking desert which stands as the remains of the majority of it, as well."

She laughed roughly to herself but shortly. "In the morning, the ships would be rent to planks far at the sea bottom. That's why I spent that last night with him. Actually, I met your father a good bout before his death." Her smile blossomed once more if something of a half-hearted one. "I came to your familiar plane often when I was younger. I disguised myself as a wandering young maid; well, that's what I told Ion so he wouldn't think that I had been stalking his that second time I decided we should run into each other." Keltia laughed softly to herself. "The aberration of the sea depths Hidonkai brought his marvelous life to an end. You are his Legacy. Our Legacy. Dais János Rhine."

Her son's head continued to swim as the influx of information swarmed his senses. This can't be true. This can't be right. He eventually looked up. "What did you mean by 'incubated'? If I were conceived 500 years ago, when the hell was I born?"

"Eighteen years ago after a 500 year incubation period." Keltia smiled. Dais didn't. "It's complicated, dear. But to say it in simple enough terms, Espers are more...singular...than any other beings in existence. Our chemistry can allow us to birth any time after a single year has passed. The longer the incubation period and the more powerful the initial parents are, the stronger the offspring will be. However, after the first century, the possibility of death becomes more than a strongly validated fear; more than a simple possibility." Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled her child to her chest in a deep embrace. "I pray to the Creator every day for giving you to me."

Dais gripped her tightly. "Mama..." Tears rolled freely down his face. He sobbed openly, clearly and tossed himself to the floor at her feet. "Mama!"

She beamed, eyes shining; bending down to a knee, Keltia raised up her son, swept back his bangs, kissed his brow, and held him tight. "Dais. All grown up. I love you so." A smile alight the Esper Queen's mouth as she put a hand to it. So touching. This young man, his icy orbs filling with tears so as to appear that they were melting, was so gentle, fragile, his wings falling submissively to his mother's cover, that it was almost inconceivable of the immense potential for destruction--and creation--that he held. Ahh... the dueling fiddles of manifestation.

Dais looked up. "Why didn't you keep me? Why couldn't I stay with you?"

In a very maternal manner she stroked back his thick mane of argentine tresses, absorbing him in pure adoration. "The hard questions. My dear boy, to learn love is a great--one of the greatest and highest gifts one can be given. Unfortunately, it's not one granted to us. Only through the humanae can we be shown it. I didn't want you, even with your blood only 25% purely human, to be neglected of love. Haruka's being was known by us for a great league of time, but the only standing problem with prophecy," she said with a laugh, “is that you rarely ever know where exactly people will be and where exactly events will occur. Not always, anyway. But we found her and I...I..." Her voice failed her.

"I was reluctant to leave you, baby. I really was. I'm so thankful that I did leave you on that stoop, bleary-eyed as I was." She laughed. "And bleary-eyed as I am now, too. I don't regret it. She turned you into a good young man. Seeing you from a mirror, a 'vise screen'... It's not the same as seeing you here...now...in person." The cross symbol splaying his chest flashed and his symbols of the sign Capricorn flickered gently as he smoothed back his mother's hair, their eyes locked, secure--living mirror.

"I doubt she told you, Dais, but Haruka grew up with a uterine infection. She could never have a child of her own. Not even Petro knew of it. She simply said it was 'bad luck'; he blamed himself. Haruka told not a soul--except for the Creator. The poor girl prayed every day, hoping against hope to birth her husband's child." Keltia looked up to her son. "You were barely more than a few months old, if that." She smiled sadly. "As young as you were, I would never surmise that you could remember the knife that sat on her table that rainy day." Dais didn't say anything. He didn't need to; he understood.

"Mama... Why didn't you ever tell me? Why didn't I ever see you?"

"Dais." Her eyes--the same as his--held him without remorse. "What would you have done? Hm? Tell me. What would you think of Haruka?" Dais averted his gaze. "Don't look away from me when I'm talking to you!" He looked up and then back to the ground, red in the face; his wings drooped. Ashura failed to supress her laughter.

"Sorry, mother." His eyes remained obediently downcast.

"That's okay, baby. But if I came to you ten years ago, tell me truly, what the hell you would have done? Would you have even believed me?"

"Considering that your hair color and my normal hair color are pretty much identical; I'd probably have given it a second thought."

Keltia peered. "Don't be a smart ass. Let's just say that I told you and you believed me. You would have left Haruka after she told you sadly that it was true. I hope you knew that you were the only reason she left the veins of her wrists intact. If you forced her to tell you that, then left your dojo and her life... and if you left with me, it would've only further annihilated her will to live. Would you be able to live knowing that you caused the death of the only person you knew as 'mother'? But what if you did not leave her and found that you loved her more because she was actually there for you? What would you think of me? You may find yourself despising me and wanting to have nothing to do with me. I cried more that rainy day than I did after your father's death. And when Ion's ship was ravaged by the wrath of Hidonkai's waves, trust me, dear, I cried. A lot."

"Mama..." Dais cooed out softly holding Keltia tightly to himself and cradling his mother in his arms like a precious child. This time his wings overlapped her.

"In truth, knowing what a good soul you are, you would be consolable of us both," she managed, her sobs drying--Dais wiped away her tears. "I think that after those possibilities, I feared what kind of man you'd turn out to be. If you knew the kind of power you have... if you knew what importance you hold..."

"That wouldn't matter. I'm still me. I know I'm pretty strong, but I would not do as others have done; only fools flaunt their skills--vocally. I'm me. And I'm sure that I could love you both as much ten years ago as I do now."

She looked up and stroked the side of his face, breaking with a smile into his very soul. "I should have known you to be smarter than that, though." Dais smiled with all the features of his face. "You're just like your father. He always thought it prudent that you don't let your foes know the full extent of your power until you show it to them. Well there was that one time..."

"One time?" She shook her head as she smiled at him. "He warned that army. Was that ever a mess to traverse. I didn't personally know. But I watched him from the Tower, smiling as he walked on, fuming and covered in gore. They shouldn't have pissed him off, though. He was already in a foul mood that morning. There was this rock jabbing him in the middle of the back all night. I think that entire mini-skirmish happened after our third or fourth date."

"Third," Ashura interjected.

"Yes, you're right." She sighed, smiling happily as her son rest with his back to her chest; her hands linked over his stomach as they spoke more of the past: how they'd been doing, what they had been doing--or rather what or who Dais had been doing--and eventually the three began to speak of abstract concepts such as loce, life, death, and boroque-bird jerky.

Unbeknownst to them, a vivacious, spritely figure stood just behind the door, listening and waiting to strike.

“Pretty Table!”

“Oof!” Dais lost his oxygen as she toppled him to the ground, her diaphanous wings fluttering gleefully.

“Azuria!” Ashura shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?! What did I tell you about snooping about?”

The faerie girl stuck out her tongue. “I’m using Pretty Table as my pillow,” she said with a mischievous grin, “and playing with his hair.” She sniffed along his neck and grinned wider. “Mm! Smells yummy!” She continued to snuggle with the ruddy-faced Dais as a plumed wing curled itself around her. “And you told me that as long as I don’t look in your bottom left drawer—“

Ashura blanched. “Okay, Azuria, that’s enough! Damn. What were we—oh yes, Keltia. I’ve been meaning to ask you… How exactly did she get by my right hand guard anyway that last time?”

Dais’ mother’s face contorted much in the same way Azuria’s did moments before. “I find her interludes and your reactions to them rather humorous, my dear Queen.”

Two of Ashura’s four arms rose to squeeze the bridge of her nose while the other two massaged her throbbing temples.

Dais looked thoroughly at the pleasing vision before him, clad scantily in a two part outfit that exposed her midriff and befit her persona quite well. It arched up and down haphazardly, meant to resemble leaves that were ripped and torn at the bottom edge of her miniskirt and skimpy shirt’s hems—just enough to support her pert, supple form—both a comforting forest verdancy and slightly darker than her aquamarine skin, then suddenly, the resemblance came to him: Faun. Her face did not hold the length of the dance-mage, nor was it equally wide, yet their heights were near the same; her green hair jut and curved of its own accord around her kind, perky face, setting off shining earrings that hung from both her sharp, little ears. The lithe beauty felt nice and soft against his skin as he held her, his hands cupped at her navel as he took in the sweet ardor of her—very much like that of Faun. Dais looked up as Ashura and his mother cleared their throats—both of their faces were a deep crimson. He finally realized that he’d been rubbing the inside of her soft, warm thigh for the last few minutes. Azuria snickered as the focus returned to verbal conversation.

“Well, Dais, she and Faun are kind of like sisters, yes. In the case of bloodlines, Azuria is pure Esper and Faun is… well… different. They are related… but not.” Ashura eventually realized that any sort of explanation would thoroughly confuse any listener, seeing as she didn’t fully understand Faun herself. It doesn’t help matters when such an obtuse being decides to spend the rest of her existence on the mortal plane. Things could never be simple for the Queen of the Espers.

Azuria grinned at Dais as she turned to him. “Faun and I are alike and are actually the same age, but we’re not the same,” before placing a kiss onto his cheek. He smiled while his silvery wings settled gently about the dainty sprite when just then the door again burst open, causing the four to jump as three figures traipsed into the room.

At the lead was a sleek and fairly tall, young cat-woman (nekojin), her fur a sandy gray and hair that fell between her shoulder blades and was a soft, nearly white blonde that accentuated the sleeveless, roseate, slip dress, the bottom hem of which cut deeply at the middle of her right thigh, gliding serenely to a stop at her right ankle, and long gloves of the same toned-out red graced her forearms, stopping short of her elbows. Jingle.

Dais thought he heard a light ring and looked to the oversized cat’s bell on a cool, blue-gray collar that was neatly fastened around her attractive, furry throat, her long fuzzy tail gently swished from side to side as she came to a stop, lifting her clipboard to examine as she adjusted her squared-off glasses. A look of disdain painted her face and he quickly found why: the two forms behind her.

“I’m telling you, Kiss, for them not to use such an appendage for telepathic communications would severely limit any purpose for them to possess—“

“Oh sweet Creator, Belay, will you just shut up about moguri hood ornaments for once?! Just one day! No, an hour. Five minutes, for the love of Ashura. And your right to call me that has been restricted for a while, or did you forget?”

“I was simply making a—wait, what? Since when?”

“Since you opened your mouth this morning,” the second, female voice growled. The first was about to reply as the second swirled a bit of magic behind her back when suddenly the first was suddenly slammed to the ground—and quite harshly from what Dais could tell. The air where the first had stood flickered a bright green, then vanished. A wry grin was on the second’s small mouth as the blood-red gem in her forehead glinted as if it were smiling as well.

“Ow,” Belay groaned. The nekojin stood with arms folded beneath her breasts, toe-tapping against the marble floor and a slightly ruffled look in those green eyes that were set like precious emeralds in the cat’s complacent glare.

Gem in her…forehead? Dais returned his eyes to the one called “Kiss”—a girl with ears like a rabbit’s, but with soft partitions at the tips that make it appear amusingly serrated, plush features, modest, short brown hair, a dainty frame and a thick fluffy tail like a great calligraphy brush, wide eyes like two aquamarines, and a surprised look on her face as she looked nervously between all those present (excepting Belay who remained firmly on the floor). All of this contributed to the overwhelming lapine effect she exuded as naturally as a flame exudes heat. A mint green lapine at that.

After a few moments, the sapphire-eyed man stood, adjusting his sleek, round glasses, tossing his long, golden, singular braid over his shoulder as he rubbed his bearded chin and gave an admonishing look. “That was rather unnecessary, Kirscha,” he said to the girl with the garnet set in her skull, just before his jaw dropped as he met Dais’ gaze of bemused ice. “He’s actually here,” he muttered beneath his breath as he joined Kirscha in glaring feverishly at the floor, both trembling while at the same time as stock still as a lead statue.

Grins split several faces in the room as the cat-girl scribed notes on her clipboard in as subtly a sensual manner as she held those hips. “Prr… that’s been the quickest halt to your bickering foolishness so far.”

Azuria punched him in the kidney. Dais quickly averted his eyes from the less-than-subtle cut the nekojin’s tail raised. Reluctantly.

“Let’s aim for six hours and fifty-three minutes next time, shall we?”

Dais stifled a chuckle as the Queen cleared her throat. Loudly. “Dais, these three are my royally appointed advisors: Suorlai, Kirscha, and Belesprito.” Two hands flourished in their general direction in kind before her eyes set on Suorlai, the nekojin. “My lovely vassals, I would like to—“

“Vassals,” Kirscha cut in absently. “What a weird word. It sounds as if we’re used as milk containers or something.” An elbow to his gut halted Belesprito’s laughter.

The Queen of Espers sighed. “Are you done? Good. My special children—“

“Hey!”

“Suorlai!”

A pair of green eyes darted to the floor. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“As I was rambling, please say hello to the son of Ion Janos and Lady Keltia, the Deyajin Devil, His Holy Seiken—Sir Dais Rhine.”

Dais blanched; Keltia beamed at him; Azuria squeezed him; and while Suorlai fell to a knee respectfully to him, Kirscha and Belay just stared at him the way a cow stares at an oncoming train.

“The Seiken’s got wings, “Kirscha said. “Ya didn’t say anything about wings.”

Belay raised a brow. “What? You didn’t get the memo?”

Dais blinked. “His Holy Seiken? Just what the bloody hell does that even mean?”

“What problem do you have with wings, anyway?”

“Nothin’. They’re really shiny, pretty, and… big.”

While Suorlai’s tail twitched agitatedly in time with her migraine, Keltia laughed, moving her pacific visage to Kirscha. “She just likes to cause trouble, don’t you, Kiss?”

“You’re damn right.”

Two hands pressed onto Queenly hips while the other pair signed a mantra over and over that Ashura used to keep from unleashing hell onto her most trusted advisors. She sighed, exasperated. “I swear, why do I bother with these people?”

Azuria strokes back Dais’ silvery hair. “Well, basically it means—“

“Huh? What was that you said?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know—“

“It’s—“

She swung her head around to look at each of the people ranting on before electricity filled her eyes and her voice—not to mention the room. “I’M TALKING NOW!” Everyone quieted rather promptly. The burst of jagged light faded with a quirky fizzle as the sprite gave a pleased giggle that bordered on the lean brink of insanity. “To be His—the Creator’s—Holy Seiken means that you are born a martyr to protect the essence of the planet and the essence of all those within and,” she made a graceful flourish of the hand to indicate the entirety of the room, “without it.” She smiled at his bewildered look. “Of course its very nearly to save all the vessels—not vassals—that contain the essence of those that reside there, even if they are technically only space cells for the planet. Even us.”

He stiffened. She gave a sympathetic look. “But now that you’re Awakened, you can—“

“I can what? Save the World? What…why… Fuck me,” he choked. “I feel sick.” Affectation more solid than that statement wracked Dais’ throat. He wiped his mouth. His wings shuddered with each heavy breath. He still felt dizzy but he laughed beside himself. “Not like I had a choice, huh? Damn. That’s too fucked up. Too wrong.” He looked up, his globes of ice glinting. “Too wrong to be a dream.”

All five of the Espers stood and took a step back—even Ashura. Simultaneously they pressed their left fist closed to their chests and recited:

“My heart I give to you and the blood coursing through it shall spill before a drop of yours shall touch the air;” each pair of eyes fell downcast as each fell to their right knee, pressing their right fists to the marble-like floor, “and if this shall be, I will gladly forfeit my life for yours as your Hand represses Gaea’s bane whilst your Other-Hand mends Her wounds;” their fingers spread on the floor and their head raised to meet just below his gaze like five benevolent spears ready to pin him at the throat, “and where Hope lies in knowing that Darkness may not claim Our Scape. May you Scribe virtue unbeknownst but claimed with vigor by Heretic, Fundamentalist, and Pugilist alike; for Yours and Hers,” they each fell to both knees, cupped hand over fist and pressed their foreheads to the crossed thumbs, closing their eyes, “we give ourselves to you. Seiken.”

Dais tried to work his mouth, but he could not gather the spit, let alone the words. All of them stood; his mouth became wet. “A prayer. You spoke a prayer to me.” He found himself suddenly sitting on his heels. “Why?”

The tall, brown-haired, blue-eyed woman that was his mother approached him with slow, sure steps. “We are willing to give everything for your sake. I know this is all a lot for you to take in and it won’t be easy.” No one ever said that anything would be easy. “And of course you cannot preserve this goal’s intentions by yourself.” Keltia paused once more to glance at the queen. She nodded and his mother went on. “You do know what the definition of an Esper is… yes?”

“Of course I do. ‘Esper’ is a shortened version of the term Esperance Beings—‘Esperance’ meaning ‘Hope’ and ‘being’ meaning ‘Organism of Hope.’”

The others blinked.

“What? My mothe… Haruka wasn’t a history buff, not to mention a language specialist without being a fairly intelligent woman.”

Keltia gave him another sad, wistful smile that had her haunting familiarity within it. “Aye. I made the right choice.” She released an apparently long-restrained sigh, a short reprieve before her serious look that was something like steel wrapped in velvet returned. Yet the velvet was a bit more plush than usual. “We are Espers. We have emotions, thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears, love, hate; souls. Just like humans, but our abilities are more innate and therefore tend to manifest in a more overt manner.” She glanced at Azuria. “For some more overt than others.”

“Hey!”

Keltia didn’t acknowledge her. “We have souls, but when we are called upon, we really have little say in whether or not we will smite who we’ve been called upon to smite. Unless the ones we’re attacking include, say, two Summoners, a Red Mage, two prodigies of the warrior arts and a half-breed Esper whom all happen to be the Chosen Six.”

The Six. The word made him recall the fateful night before they reached his hometown. The night he met Ibuki Katsoirchi.

“Mother? Why are we the ‘Six’?”

“You’ve met the prophet, then.”

“No. We met his lover. The prophet is dead. I thought you could see whatever happened anywhere at anytime.”

Ashura sighed. “That’s a common misconception,” she said matter-of-factly. “Through the vise screens we could, at one point in time, before Debiddek built their harvesters some two centuries ago. At first they were used sparingly both because of their rarity and price to construct, but mining was not a terrible means of recovery. Soon they became more prevalent in use, and today they are in such proliferation that the world economies have risen to great heights, but at the expense of Earth. As more of these harvesters have been built, of course you’d expect that a larger volume of crystals would be extracted. This is slowly strangling the life from the planet. One of the most disturbing elements in this situation is that more than half of the lesser charged crystals are spent dry in the running of those abominations.” The sound of her fury signified much.

“That is, unless a Tera crystal is used to power it or, Creator forbid it, a Sentient crystal. I don’t think I need to tell you that they leech lesser crystals to harvest deeper ones, not to mention to ‘feed’ themselves. Though comparatively, it’s an improvement. The extraction to consumption ratio is 7:3 compared to the 3:1 ratio in a Tera crystal run harvester. It’s an improvement, but only barely.” She said the words as if she wanted nothing more than to spit them back out and crush them underfoot. “As time has moved on, the vise screens have begun to become opaque and clouded over. The veil between yours is actually very faint, but sturdy enough to separate solidities of you and I, unless Summoning magic intervenes of course.”

“Wait. If our world would die, then what would your world have to fear?”

His mother smiled at him sadly. “Our world is your world, Dais, just on the other side of the mirror.”

Dais felt a pit in his stomach and a strong sense of guilt. Were his countrymen just as guilty? “What about Rasuria’s extractors?”

“Your Lord Cid is a good man. Over time and under Lord Cid’s vision, the Rasurians have taken advantage of the planet’s natural electrical field using several specially prepared Tera crystals to harness that energy, repowering the crystals as they cycle though from one to the next. He finally replaced the final crystal-run plant with an electrically operated system several months ago,” Azuria chimed in. “When they finish the final renovations, I’ll make sure they get a good influx via the field in that region.” She grinned wide, rocking back and forth on her heels as everyone turned to stare. “What? I’m not really a ditz.” She stuck out her tongue as if to punctuate the statement.

Dais’ eyes met Ashura’s with a look of thirst—a thirst for information. He assumed something much alike to what he was being told, but never anything this wasteful. He remembered the Sentient crystal with as much clarity as he recalled the tubes of that fed into the crystal and shuddered, looking away. The half-breed lift his head with a jerk. “What are the Dragons?”

Ashura raised a brow. “So she told you of that as well? Good. Saves us time. Where shall I start? Several of our strongest beings decided to take it upon their selves to hold a meeting—without my permission—“

“I don’t see how that’s a problem, Ashura,” Belay interjected.

“Yeah,” Kirscha added, “we do that all the time.”

“Stop.” Suorlai cut them off. “Just, please. Stop. And you both were doing so well, too.” She sounded as if she were sobbing silently.

Ashura continued. “They decided to take leave to Earth to wait for you. Unfortunately, with great power comes a great handicap. They cannot exist easily in your realm unless they are Twined with their proper Chosen. That is, not unless they remain confined with an area where a massive spike of magical energy is able to remain relatively stable and diffuse itself within these areas. These places are known as Shrines.”

“Their massive energy sinks into the incredibly dense area of non-magic which grounds them there. Sort of like a magnet,” Kirscha dropped in, to which Belay added, “Opposites attract.”

Dais stared blankly. “Umm…What?”

Kirscha cleared her throat. “Okay. All organic beings are innately negatively charged whereas the great majority of magic is innately positive, right? Well, the more powerful the magic a mortal wields, the stronger the positive energy has a pull on their negative energy, and if their own innate energy isn’t strong enough, or rather, their soul’s relationship with their physiological body, then it can have…adverse effects.”

“Like Summoner’s Sickness,” Belay rolled on. “But in the case of Espers, while your atmospheres have differentiated currents throughout them, our world is purely negative to stabilize our relatively enormous positive energies.” He adjusted his glasses. “In the case of the Shrines, they have gigantic negative power within them as they were created before even Ashura herself existed, using non-magic—or anti-magic, if you prefer—that is nearly impossible to tap anymore—“

Suorlai cut him off, “Impossible in the fact that we haven’t been able to find a being with strength enough to grasp the convoluted concept of the ancient magic, who will agree to the testing willingly, who can survive the actual testing and not to mention that the uhh… The documents found on Earth detailing the activating and location of such power kind of, um, no longer exist since they were obliterated in a transfer from there to here.”

“Quantum jumps,” said Belay in mock sympathy, “can never trust ‘em.”

“Nope,” said Kirscha with a smile in her eyes, “sure can’t.”

“Did I say you two could speak?”

Ashura nodded in approval. “I’m honestly impressed.”

“You ain’t the only one, Queeny,” the catgirl added casually, despite herself.

Ashura glared as Dais came to a conclusion in a peculiar sort of disbelief. “So we’re basically going to have to search the world for these Shrines by ourselves that, and correct me if I’m wrong, that are programmed to be used… by us?”

“Something like that. But not quite. Each Shrine is designed, or ‘programmed,’ to a certain individual as well as a specific guardian associated with that individual. Whether or not they are of Earth, Hell or our own Esperance plane we cannot say.”

Dais started to ask a question then paused to consider the phrasing. “Excuse me, but doesn’t this all seem a bit too… I don’t know… convenient?”

The Queen gave a wry smile. “Yes. And it may seem more like choreography in some sort of grand play. That’s how we’ve found ourselves looking at it as well.”

“At least you have a sense of humour about the whole thing.”

“It’s rather complex in its simplicity, is it not?”

“I didn’t think I’d think about thinking this much in my entire life… I think.”

“Quite droll, my dear Seiken. Quite droll.”

“I thought so.”

“Do you then accept the role and task set before you, Seiken Dais János Rhine of the Low-Fang?”

Dais’ face drained. He swallowed. “Yes. I do.”

“Then I, Queen of the Esperance, Ashura, hereby claim you officially, Seiken Dais János Rhine of the Low-Fang, Purifier of both Life and Death and the Cleanser of Tainted Souls, Protector of Gaea now and forevermore until your light is expunged and Beyond.”

His large wings fluttered as a wind that was not there rustled his hair. The young man still could not believe it. Dais János Rhine of the Low-Fang. One-half Esper. One-fourth human. One-fourth Dragon. Purely Seiken.