Arcia had spun five times since the proclamations of King Astor and the explanations of Accelerator. Five times the Sun and the Moon had swapped positions, stars spinning over a sky that at times revealed them and at times drowned them, while the Starcalled relaxed where they could, trained where they could, and prepared where they could. Much had been done to refortify Camp Hope after the destruction of the DEAD.naught, but those defenses still paled in comparison to those great walls from before. It made sense, however. Whereas the Camp had once been a site where a siege would soon be endured, now, it was a camp in the truest sense, a short stop before carriages laden with supplies made their push into Vintergard properly, to set up a new forward camp.
Already, other squads under the orders of Accelerator had peeled off into that Magia-infected city, leaving but one last squad awaiting instructions in the camp: the members of Operation Siren Silence, composed of only the deadliest Immortals under the banner of Astorea.
@Schilva Flasch, the fastest man alive, sought to break into yet another dimension in speed today.
Cepheid, the Photoprophet (@Jester), stood bundled up from head to toe once more, to witness the encroaching of an epoch.
@Nyancy, that lion-faced valiant, remained fearless, perhaps even excited, at the face of taming these riotous steeds of steel.
@Madison Freebird, Sheriff of the Pride, was as cool as ever, her iron on her hip and her gaze trained towards the tribulations of the near-future.
@Jin, the Sovereign of Demon-Blood, observed and calculated, forever drawn to the allure of terrible risk and glorious reward.
@Plutopia persisted as well, an unidenfitiable blob of gray that must have been someone and yet remained no one.
@Valmont and @Aerial too, individuals of such professional confidentiality that only the reverberations of their great deeds could be felt by the common layman, stood, facing down yet another challenge to place upon their list of accomplishments.
And, facing such an illustrious crew, was a herd of Magi-steeds, their sinuous chasses glimmering in the light of morning as the chromatic brilliance of their magicore engines pulsated within their exposed chests. An explosive heat, so contrary to the cold autumn air, exuded from each of these ironclad beasts, and they snorted at the sight of their masters, crystalline eyes locking upon each and every one of them. Purpose-made as they were for transportation, a certain pride persisted yet in each Magi-steed's gaze. After all, they were made for this, for exceeding the rules of nature, but what of these flesh-bound simians, possessing organs of fats and muscle, rather than processes of silicon and carbon-fiber? One of the larger Magi-steeds neighed derisively at the dimunitive creature, but before its pseudo-personality could run too hot, a woman stepped beside it, placing a hand upon its flank.
If the light of morning made the Magi-steeds valiant, the light of morning made this young lady gorgeous. Golden eyes, framed by long lashes, caught each of their gazes in turn, as if evaluating the worth of their souls, while a smile that could only be considered a rarity in the world crested her features. Against the drab surroundings of a war camp, the finery of her mahogany-and-gold dress appeared an excessive luxury, and yet anything less eloquent than this simply could not fit her graceful figure. Yes, indeed, only gold could pair with her, the woman who stood amongst beasts of steel and pride.
Greetings, Starcalled. My name is Lady Wisteria Einhraiz Aurelion, an aide of Accelerator's. Before we begin, may I have the pleasure of knowing your names?
She waited as they introduced themselves one at a time. She would not forget their names, nor whatever titles they placed upon themselves.
As you are undoubtedly aware, these Magi-steeds are still prototypes, so I ask that you remain open-minded of their individual quirks. The pseudo-personalities implanted into them allows for independent action, allowing you to fight while they run, but unfortunately, they are as moody as you would expect beasts to be.
Wisteria's hands continued to stroke the flank of the largest of them. In her presence, at least, the Magi-steeds remained calm.
For authorization to be made, I must request that you spare a drop of your blood upon their hearts. They will metamorph afterwards, in response to whichever capability of yours that is most deeply entwined with your essence, and from that point on, you will be able to communicate with them mentally. Whether or not you'll be able to come to a satisfactory agreement is, of course, up to the social talents of the individual, but I'm certain that you all will perform admirably as riders.
Up above, a swallow swooped downwards, craft of steel but with a golden accent. It landed heavily upon the woman's shoulder, eyes blinking a steady green.
Once you are ready, please ride to the bottom of the Dragontail Trench. The operation will been shortly after. Ah, and if you'd like any assistance, or have questions regarding the nature of these Magi-steeds, or even any feedback with regards to their design, please, don't be afraid to share your thoughts with me.
Her smile surfaced once more.
As their sponsor, I would love to see them persist beyond the boundaries of war, after all.
Day was spilling out from the folds of the night. For all the ruination of Vintergard, the storm and lightning, the terror and the rage, the sky remained unaffected, a brilliant blue that was oh-so rare for this season.
It would be a good day to ride. It would be a better day to hunt.
