Battle Hymn of the Republic

Eryl seemed positively embarrassed at Riley's efforts, though at the same time, there was a certain flattered comfort she took in the playfulness. She put a hand over her chest, and turned her gaze away from the false Ruarc. The small smile under her rosy cheeks was similarly innocent to her sheepish demeanor.

"My, my," sighed Eryl, rebuffing the false Ruarc by lazily swatting at his hand, "no one's ever used such locution on me bef--..."

The warm, fuzzy feelings came to a halt as Miyuki began to storm through the mansion. As if reminded where she was, the triclops was on guard again, and her hand almost went to her wand. Though, several pairs of powerful eyes were on her, and that seemed to keep her tame at the moment. When the final member of the team came bursting through the door, it seemed to knock loose the careful atmosphere. The amount of powerful personalities in the room put all at unease, though everyone's issue could probably be traced back to Eryl herself. Even as Jane worked her introductions, and gave the witch a segway to take the floor, Eryl seemed glued to her chair.

"Thank you, Lady Smith," with an apparent grasp of willpower in her eyes, the former enemy took to the fore, and stood in front of the group. "I have come to ..."

There was a nervous smile on her face, "... Help! Yes. I have come to help. As Lady Smith has stated, I wish to assist Mr. Caxton in what ails him. Erhm... Perhaps if... people are not... privy," Three eyes whipped between Jane and Percy, "Mr. Caxton would you like to explain that condition yourself?"

Percival didn't seem to be paying attention, he had broken out into a sweat. The faint light at his collar ever-present. His lack of participation seemed to dismay the Welshwoman, who was likely hoping to lose the spotlight for a moment. Carefully looking at everyone first, she rose her voice.

"Mr. Caxton?"

With a snap, the man's head whipped up to look at Eryl, a lost expression on his face. "I... What? Apologies... It's just... very loud in here, please, go on."

"Of... course," the Witch spoke, concern slowly filtering off her voice, "I have a theory, a strong theory, of something that is escalating Mr. Caxton's condition. You all are familiar with who I was, what I was in the Elementalia Magicus, the realm in which Mr. Caxton's Infinite-Mana powers and projects. What you may not know is that I was there when the last font which held the same duty..."

Eryl cleared her throat, reticent to speak the words.

"... died. When the last font died," Percival's voice was heavy and tired, the standing Welshling curled her fingers into fists. "You were of the few mages left behind, because you were ostracized by your colleagues."

"Yes," affirmed the triclops, shakily, carrying herself tall despite the apparent slight, "What transpired in the wake of the Font's final days was a cataclysmic event in the Elementalia. The Gods began to lose their grasp on reality, and began to war against one another, consuming as much mana as they could before their impending slumber. Aurus, Zulan, Modeka, Akanus, Decanus, and even Tulan became demented, terrible images of their true forms."

Her pallor was evident, as she carried on, "Those of us that were left behind, we sought to right the world in an effort to save ourselves. We were cut down, in droves, and our attempts to pacify the madness of the gods ended in failure. In the end, the font was consumed by their mana, darkness overtook the land, and I was left alone in the ether for two centuries."

A quiet pause followed that, Eryl pursed her lips.

"That is neither here, nor there," she pressed on, "what matters to all of you is that this same war, this madness is taking place inside Mr. Caxton. His condition is exacerbated by his withered connection to the Elementalia, and his nearing death will only accelerate closer if the beasts within him are not pacified. One of the deities will hold a portion of him, and due to their proximity to this piece of what resembles Mr. Caxton's soul, this Guardian, God, what-have-you will have the strongest hold on their senses. I say this because this portion is something that we could take to the centrifuge, and begin the healing process. The only thing that stands between us, and his health, are five deranged gods, and the twinkling madness of a sixth. That is why I have asked for mages of great power, what I am asking of you is undoubtedly dangerous. However, if we were to succeed, Mr. Caxton would not only live, but he would likely regain his connection to the Elementalia."

The regal mage curled her arms up and out to those present, searching all of the eyes looking back at her, "What say you?"

Jane had taken her seat as soon as others had risen to speak. It was hard to explain the emotions that put the gunslinger's gut through a wringer. There was excitement and fear and wonder. There was also a hint of pride and a dash of surprise. The boldness of such a request; the audacity to even propose contesting a mad god; the absolute epic, absurdity of venturing into the Elementalia Magicus and expecting to survive against six unhinged deities.

Jane had felt a twinge of that fateful instinct she referred to as the calling when first hearing Mizz Maelgwyn's plea back on her plot of land. In most cases, it merely presented itself as a confident urge: mount up and Ride West. In this moment, however, it sang. It trilled in her fingertips and thrummed in her bones. The energy was very nearly uncontainable.

The gunslinger practically jumped to her feet at the end, trying to alleviate some of this wild energy. "It would be impossible fer me to decline such a quest, Mizz Maelgwyn." The smile she wore was cock-sure and irrepressible. This was a quest for heroes. This was a quest for her. Trying to fight it would be like trying to fight her love of horses: not only futile but contrary to every fiber of her being.

Contrary to Jane's exuberance, Ruarc maintained his stern demeanor. He was deep in thought as he considered the prospect and premise of the witch's proposal. The first instinct was to follow Jane's lead and leap into action, especially since he had given his word to aid Percy no matter the odds or opposition. The only thing keeping him in his seat was who it had come from. On its own, Ruarc would have been quick to dismiss such a ridiculous request at this point, but again there was Jane. She had earned his trust, and he had no doubts about her intuition; as such, the Druid sat and deliberated.

Looking up after a few moments and internal discussions, the Irishman looked over to Percy. The Welshman looked terribly worn, but otherwise was giving no indication that he himself was scepticle.

"We'll go," announced Laoise from behind Ruarc, catching him off guard. The white haired woman looked down at him in his chair and scowled slightly. "Quit trying to look brooding. Even though you are suspicious, you know you would still end up charging at it head first. Right?"

Looking somewhat stricken, Ruarc huffed a bit and crossed his arms indignantly. "Well excuse me for considering all the angles. And what do you mean we ?"

"If you are going up against the chibi-gods gone psycho, you'll need me as more than just a mana battery. Besides, I can help even the teams a bit. They are six deities, and you all are, well, bless your hearts," turning towards Eryl, Laoise continued. "So as I said, we'll go. But know Ruarc doesn't particularly trust you, and neither do I. So my going along will double as an extra set of eyes watching you."

Miyuki's lips made a very thin line as she listened to the others, most notably Eryl, speaking about what was going on. while she wasn't exactly one to trust a Maelgwyn, especially not Eryl, the thought that there was a way to save Percy was certainly one that she would entertain, if not pursue fully. Whether or not she had to face a few angry gods was irrelevant- She'd faced gods before and come out on top, and was now stronger than she'd ever been before. That, and with everyone here being a talented mage (Except Percy, who was a Talented Alchemist instead of mage) she figured their odds of success were pretty good.

"I'll come along. Anything to save Percy." the tall Japanese girl announced, looking at everyone in the room, locking eyes with Eryl as if daring her to cross them, though the glance lasted but a moment before her usual self-confident aura manifested itself, the righteous fury and distrust having evaporated with the revelation of a real chance to do just what she and Percy had been searching for all this time.

The illusion of being Ruarc had puffed off Riley like so much smoke when she had taken her seat. During the entire spilled spiel of the 'why' for the gathering of the old faces the young woman had watched everyone - the stage magician rather still and quiet despite her earlier antics. As the room began to call out their support for the endeavor Riley's face took on a strange, curious look as she tilted her head - intrigued - by the events around her. When it finally came down to her being the last to speak the young magician leaned heavily into the back of the chair behind her and cupped her chin with her hand.

"Hmmm. What say me?" The brown haired woman murmured to herself and then, without moving, her eyes cut her gaze towards where Percy was sitting. Her brother was pale, shaky, and a whole other host of unfavourable adjectives that wouldn't do justice to the alchemist's situation. "What say you Perce - do you want us tearing around inside you?"

"Absolutely not," growled Percy, a husky defiance against the gung-ho air of the room. The thinly man stood, worse than he had looked in years. He was no longer the smiling, hopeful font. This was a man that had accepted his fate. A finger rose in Eryl's direction, to which the witch was wary of, as if he were to strike her down with a word. "You are not following this woman into some magnificent hell-hole on a theory. This is exactly the thing I was trying to avoid for the last three years, because I knew this would happen. You'd hear some slim hope, and you would go running into certain deat--..."

A loud sniff cut the immediate drama, with a slow, subtle hiss burning the air.

"Mr. Caxton's gunna die?" Jakku, the small fire-sprite had curled up in fright, her light gone. Instead, bright, molten tears began to bud at the edge of her glowing eyes. She had been somewhat cold the entire conversation, but the light seemed to finally go off in her head. "I don't want Mr. Caxton to die."

She blinked those big, innocent eyes, wicking hot liquid off her cheeks. Percy, caught off guard, was quick enough to slap up the tears, wafting his hand quickly in pain as he caught each embered drop. Before he had a chance to speak, the distressed sprite flew right into Eryl's face, the sudden bright light stunning the noble nerd.

"I'll go! I can help! I helped Ms. Kagami find Mr. Caxton! I can help here, too!" whined Jakku, adamant to make a difference.

"I'm not going to keep repeating myself, I won't tolerate suicide missions for--..." rebounded Percival.

The fire sprite sparked, her light suddenly back, and flew into Percy's chest like a bullet. "No! I won't accept that! I won't!"

She started to sob, which caused hissing, scalding tears to wet his vest. In a mixture of pain and concern, the Alchemist began to comfort the sprite.

"I cannot ask you all to do this, nor will I allow it. There is no way to enter into whatever place that realm has become without me," asserted Percy, although softly enough as to further upset the ball of molten tears in his chest.

"Untrue, Mr. Caxton," announced Eryl, opening up her left hand. A thin line of light cut open in her hand, with three eyes carefully watching Jane and Ruarc. With a small flash, a twisted sound of sundered bells, a gnarled image of Percy's staff appeared in her hand.

Unity, the key to the Elementalia Magicus.

Proud, defiant, but still somewhat guarded, she stood the staff to the floor, "We do not need your approval, nor your abilities. Whether or not you wish to sit and wilt is your prerogative, but we have the means, all that is left to decide is the when!"

Eryl's eyes cautiously looked to the others, "Correct?"

From his seat, Ruarc watched as Percy gave his opinion on the matter. Feeling a bit of hesitation on the matter now, the Druid grumbled something to himself before speaking up. "Well, s'pose it's a good thing Ah got ya to promise not to run off to anymore caves; but shame you didn't make me promise not to try and interfere. But, got a lot of projects on my hands, plus handling a class, Ah don't really have time to plan your Irish wake. So you'll have ta forgive me for trying to push it back a bit."

Having had a few moments, the zeal within Jane had cooled. She was a tempered blade of bravery now, fresh from the forge of courage. Her voice had regained its evenness when she spoke next. "Mr. Caxton, s'not that we're suicidal er anythin. We're mages. Danger's all part o' the deal. We all been at this game fer at least a decade, threats o' death ain't nothin new er special. 'Sides, we all know ye'd do it fer us. Don' see why ye think yer the odd man out."

It was uncomfortable referring to herself as a mage; that indomitable spirit of hers begrudgingly cleaved to the notion that it was natural, that it all was within her. But that's what gunslingers did: confronted the uncomfortable. Like marching into the playground of destabilized deities to save a good man. "An' in any case, it's like I said: I cain't say no, even if I wanted to. Call it what ye like, but it's part o what makes me a mage, and it says I gotta go traipsin through yer mana fields, pluckin god-daisies. So, that's what I'm gonna do."

Jakku flew out of Percy's chest, red-hot tears streaming as she found her way over to Ruarc, throwing her tiny body into the man's chest. Despite her size, she seemed to strike with a force that seemed to test the ribs. Though, that didn't compare to the searing potential of the sobbing the sprite made at her landing spot.

"Thah-ahnk youh!" sobbed the sprite. She was a bit of a stranger, having been around as long as Percy had been back, and Ruac hadn't gotten much time to be acquainted with the faerie. That's why it was unexpected when Ruarc's magic eye picked up the ethereal binding band that fattened on her little neck. The binding wasn't a surprise, rather, it was the leash that was supposed to lead to the mage that had bound her. That line led to no one in the study, and in fact, flowed right out the door.

The fire in the room flared upward at Jane's back, owing her a light that struck her features heroically. Light seemed to change to something more scenic, resting on the shoulders of the gunslinger like a time-worn burden. Eryl was struck by her charisma, while Percy's austere gaze was hard to show it. The two Welshfolk shook their heads.

"I assure you, Jane, this task will not be as facile as you make it sound."
"I assure you, Jane, this task will not be as facile as you make it sound."

The Alchemist and the staff-stealing Witch exchanged shocked glances, having spoken in perfect unison.

"I say it's worth every risk," Miyuki interrupted. "I mean, really, what's the point of having power if you can't help those in need? Especially a dear friend and companion like Percy. If there's a chance, we need to take it. I'd rather die trying than stand idly by and watch him go."

Her persona had changed once more, the smug confidence replaced with dire conviction and a sense of real purpose. She had searched for Percy for so long, and though she had found him there was little else to show for it.