While Sirius, Sora, and Lucas handled their mission gone awry -- things weren't left so stale back at the Outlander's base.
"Hya! Fwoh! Shah!"
Attacking the hanging punching bag as sweat bounced from his body to the squeaky, wooden floorboards below his feet, Fai didn't shy away from expressing his fist-filled dance verbally.
His room was specifically, and meticulously, crafted by his own personal design; the walls were painted over by a somber gray with running, high waves of the sea beautifully decorating said walls. Surrounded by this, the scenery helped him push his body further, even in the dead of night.
I can't shake it. My stomach is in knots; something just feels off in the air, he thought.
Taking a break as the abused punching back swayed, still attempting to recover from the flurry of blows, Fai sat himself down on his bed. After a day of arduous training, the silken sheets designed in tigerprint welcomed his sweat layered, exhausted body.
"...It's quiet around here. Too quiet."
Lounging on his bed as he looked at the stars sitting behind the window, Fai let out a sigh through his lips.
Before he could relieve himself to a night's rest, a knock came to his door.
Tucked away in his room, scribbling away in a journal while a plethora of books were spread open on his dusk, Donatien took a swig of water as he felt dreariness engrain itself just a bit further into his body. The books opened on his desk that he fervently ran his eyes across were grimoires, specifically, grimoires that handled the teachings of the dark element.
Any day now he'll be back, I must prepare his curriculum to its fullest. I imagine he's out there working his hardest. I'll be damned if I let my student outwork me, Donatien thought.
Adjusting his glasses once more as they seemed to want to slide off of his face, a knock suddenly jolted his body.
It was a rare sight; Beatrice stood in the well-lit lounge room of the tucked-away abode, waiting for the summoned Outlanders left available to seat themselves down.
The formless, orange flames that inhabited the rectangular, clear boxes stationed on each wall were the work of Beatrice—who took some level of pride in this invention. Though the brightness of the magic-manifested lights were potent; it was seldom welcome to the dreary eyes of the recently awakened Outlanders.
Left confused as to the reasoning of this meeting, Fai found himself counting in his head how many times he had seen the sage leave the threshold to her chambers.
In the dead of night, the Outlanders present were clearly disgruntled by the sudden call. Fai unleashed a loud, uncaring yawn as he pointed his maw towards the ceiling. This contagious gesture moved onto Donatien, who opted to contain his sleepy roar under the palm of his hand.
Charlotte rubbed her fluttering eyes, swaying side to side as she battled to hold onto her fleeting consciousness.
It's been like this before, but honestly, I hate it. It's so damn quiet, lonely...Donatien won't drink or spar with me, always saying he's "too valuable to be put himself in a vulnerable state"--what-damn-ever! Sheesh...Hurry up and get back already, Ren, Sirius, Sora, Brahmi--I'll take any of ya', Fai complained to himself.
Though they were all seated and waiting for some sort of inclination as to their meeting—Beatrice still seemed to be trying to organize her thoughts, pacing back and forth as the tip of her thumb rested between her cherry lips.
"...What terrible timing this all is."
Beatrice muttered as she scanned her eyes across the room organized for comfort, counting each head before letting out a sigh, caressing her head as if a headache had spurred itself into existence.
"What's up?"
Without a hint of urgency in his voice, Fai was stretched out across the fur-lined chair, wearing nothing besides a black vest and some baggy pants of the same, sable shade.
"We've been found."
The concise response finally leaving the clearly stressed out sage immediately drew the concern of the present Outlanders.
Currently available were only three members: Donatien, Fai, and Charlotte. It was something Beatrice tried to avoid, dwindling their numbers, but between the Purgatory escapade and the urgent mission with Getrude--they were left vulnerable.
"Found? What do you mean, "Found"? You can't mean…"
Donatien stood himself onto his feet without a moment's hesitation, meeting eye-to-eye with the tall, graceful, yet ominous woman.
"It is indeed as you suspect; the Argonauts have found us. I don't know how exactly, but I felt it--a vast recon spell found itself directly on top of our base. That wicked, disgusting energy...No doubt it belonged to them."
"The hell do we do then?"
Fai asked, leaning forward in his seat as his tone dropped, cracking his knuckles as this news seemed to flip the "fighting switch" in his head.
"We'll do what we've done before. A transport spell, right? You can move the house somewhere else. Primordia, maybe?"
Already running through their options, Donatien began to pace back and forth through the room--interrupted as Beatrice snapped her fingers to regain his attention.
"That only worked before because I had prepared it ahead of time."
"Then you just need some time, right? How much?"
As Fai placed himself back into the discussion, Charlotte remained silent, keeping the pillow she held in her arms close to her chest.
"Two hours...One if I omit some "safety" precautions…Grandiose magic occupying multiple elements such as this is intricate, even for myself."
Beatrice answered, it was the first time they'd seen such uncertainty plastered on her usual otherworldly stoicness.
"That's perfect then; you can get started on that--I'll keep watch outside."
Quick to jump into action, Fai was already one step away from leaving through the front door before being stopped by a simple, "Listen," coming from Beatrice.
"Huh?"
"Keep yourself on track, Fai; I haven't finished speaking. They're already well on their way here...Half an hour away, if I were to guess."
"...Half--half an hour?...I heard that correctly, right? You heard it too, right?"
In disbelief at the time pulled away from right under his feet, Fai looked over at the glasses-wearing Outlander for confirmation, who held an exasperated expression himself, albeit holding it together calmly.
"...Indeed, half an hour, Fai."
With his arms folded across his chest, Donatien responded with a calmness that masked the worry in his voice, letting out a sigh before swerving his gaze back to the sage.
"You're constantly monitoring the valley with your own recon magic, no? How did something like this slip through? All of those seals, barriers, all of that--this wasn't supposed to happen, Beatrice."
The room fell to an awkward silence as Donatien reprimanded their leader, pressing her for the reasoning of this predicament.
Of all the Outlanders, Donatien was the only one who ever dared to speak to Beatrice in such a way--commanding answers and reprimanding her decisions. It was a privilege and respect earned through proving his own invaluable mind.
Seeing him all heated like this reminds me...There is still contention between who the "leader" of the Outlanders is. I mean, technically it's Beatrice, but the one amongst us who takes command is a different thing entirely, Fai thought, Some say Donatien's pragmatic, smart thinking makes him the leader, while some think Sora's charisma and general leadership vibes places him at the top. If I had to choose...I'd say Donatien, no doubt. Fiery guys like me need an anchor, and someone to point our fists at the right target.
"Everything you said is correct; I am at fault for this failure...I believe now would be an appropriate time as any to be completely honest with you."
"Still hiding things from us after all of this time? Why am I not surprised…"
Donatien huffed, propping his back against the light-brown wall as he gave his ear to whatever the sage had coming.
"As it would seem, my power has recently begun to dwindle."
"Dwindle? The hell do you mean "dwindle"--magic doesn't just poof out of existence."
Grabbing a stray stool, Fai placed it down near on the carpet before seating himself--letting out words coated with a bit of uneasy frustration.
"I'm with him, magic doesn't exactly just...vanish from one, at least not from what I've heard."
"Normally, you'd two be completely right, but you're forgetting one thing--I'm not human."
The embarrassed aversion of both Donatien and Fai's eyes from Beatrice's words confirmed they did indeed forget that one, small detail pertaining to the sage.
"As a sage, my sole purpose is to act as a nurturer of this world; specifically, my very existence came to be sworn and bound to Mastorn itself. The flourishing of Mastorn and its people serves as the catalyst for my power--should the people's faith in me fall, I will succumb to that rejection."
"...Damn, that's rough."
Quite the exposition dump, Beatrice, Donatien thought.
Fai scratched his head, letting out a sigh as Donatien followed suit with his own response, "Why didn't you tell us sooner? Honestly, are you forgetting the debt you owe us all?"
"Though your words are as prickly as ever, Donatien--you're right, completely so. It's something...I've had a hard time myself coming to terms with. Being able to tangibly feel, both with my body and spirit, the dissolving faith the people of Mastorn have in me...Well, we should get back on topic."
The saddened look that came over the sage's nebula-like eyes as she looked at her pale hand was vexing in its own right.
"What I've gathered from all of this is--we just have to fight these guys until you're done weaving this teleport spell of yours, right?"
Fai slammed his knuckles into the palm of his hand with a fierce smile. That unbridled confident, fighting spirit of his forced a slight smirk on Donatien's lips, who slid his lavish coat off of his torso.
Underneath the blazer he wore, an obsidian, skin-tight shirt clung to his body, revealing musculature that always came to a surprise for the others.
"If it's Argonauts coming our way; it's best to steal the element of surprise from them. They're likely assuming we won't see this attack coming, no?"
"Hard to say...If they really attacked under the pretense of our numbers being at their lowest, then who knows how far their intel reaches."
"Well, you've reinforced the barriers now, right? I don't want that pesky scout of theirs getting any more information on us."
"Obviously."
Beatrice seemed almost offended at Donatien's words, but quickly hid that with a slight smile, making her way to the staircase. Wasting no time, she left the rest in the hands of the Outlanders, already preparing the spell as she journeyed back to her chambers.
Each wall she passed, she traced her fingers along the fine timber, chanting words spoken in such a speed it was simply impossible to mimic.
"Charlotte, you don't have to fight if you don't want to."
"Yeah, Donny and I have this on lockdown, don't we?"
As Fai let out a boisterous laugh, he slapped the glasses-wearing man with no gentleness to his touch, causing a chill of stinging pain to run over Donatien's back as he huffed.
"Please refrain from calling me "Donny", Fai."
"Why not? Donny actually makes you sound approachable. Your nasty glare already works a bit too well to drive people away."
Between the light-hearted bantering that came over the two, Charlotte kept trying to get a word in before finally forcing her thoughts out, "I-I'll fight!"
The sudden rise in volume and forwarded from the meek girl stunned the two men, who turned to her as if seeing a ghost.
"…Well, alright then."
"Hell yeah! Let's kick some ass, Charlotte!"
Extending his fist down towards the girl who was roughly half his height, she looked at his calloused, golden-brown knuckles before shyly returning the gesture.
Giving a side glance to Donatien, Fai winked at him before the stoic man finally gave in and added his hand to the pile.
"Team Kickass is a-go!"
There he goes again; I doubt the severity of the situation has clicked in that pea-brain of his, Donatien thought.
I'm done being treated like a helpless child, I'll do my best this time! Charlotte resolved.
My fists were itching for a real fight—this'll be the perfect opportunity to try "that", Fai pondered.