“I’m impressed by your skills and offended by your attire.” A familiar voice said from behind Solus, making her turn around in surprise. “As your other half says, if you are here to talk, let’s talk. If you are here to fight, let’s fight.”
Standing a few meters in front of Solus there was Elina with her swollen belly from the pregnancy. Or rather, it would have been Elina if not for her hair streaked with the six colors of the elements, a full suit of Davross armor, and a twin-headed glaive.
There was actually a seventh color among Elina-Mogar’s hair but Solus couldn’t focus on it. The only thing she knew was that it wasn’t emerald green.
“Wait! I’m not here to fight.” Solus raised her hands with her palms out. “Also, I remember everything Lith ever said and this is the first time I hear those words.”
“Let me get this straight.” Mogar-Elina circled around Solus like a predator, splitting her weapon into two halves that resembled long-hilted swords.
She spun them around in warming-up exercises before joining them back together in a full haft just to start over again.
“You break into *my* house armed to the teeth, change *my* furniture as you please, and I’m supposed to believe you aren’t looking for trouble? Also, you are wrong because he just did.” Mogar’s mocking tone was made even worse by her body shapeshifting into Menadion’s form.
Seeing her mother in the flesh with her eyes filled with anger was too much for Solus. She saw in them all the blame and scorn she felt for her old self and that she assumed the real Menadion had experienced in her final moments.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.” She crossed the space between them in a dash, hugging Menadion-Mogar without a care for the weapons she carried.
“It’s okay, child. Now I believe you.” Mogar gently patted Solus’ head, gently lifting her in her arms.
“The fuck?” Solus knew to be short but Menadion was supposed to be slightly taller than her, not a giant.
“Language, child.” Mogar- Menadion put her huge finger on Elphyn’s small mouth. “Remember that here your appearance matches the way you perceive yourself.”
Solus yelped with a shrill voice when she lowered her gaze and discovered to have turned into a small girl.
“Did you do this to me?”
“No, you did it to yourself.” Mogar pointed at the space around them that was now identical to Elphyn’s bedroom in her first house.
“What about Lith?”
“Do you really want to waste one of your questions to ask me something you can ask him? If you see him again, of course.” Mogar asked.
Solus focused on their bond, feeling through it that Lith was alive and well. Maybe emotionally shocked but physically he was in top shape.
“No.” She drew confidence from the light that connected them and that she could see every time she closed her eyes. “I have come to ask more important questions.”
“Good.” As soon as Mogar-Menadion put Solus down, she reverted to her adult, armed self. “Again? You are starting to piss me off.”
“Shit! I’m sorry!” Solus turned her armor into her favorite day dress, a sleeveless sky-blue skirt, and blouse. The Sage Staff was now her necklace whereas the Fury was still at her hip.
Yet its aura was that of a family memento, not a weapon, so Mogar let it slide.
“I want to know how to fix Lith’s life force. How to free myself from the tower. How to help Nalrond merge his life forces and-”
“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down.” Mogar snapped her fingers, reverting herself into Elina’s form and the Mindscape to an empty void. “One thing at a time. Three questions are a lot and you have yet to get a single answer.”
A second finger snap conjured three spheres but unlike what had happened to Nalrond and Morok, each one had a small satellite orbiting around them.
“You know, it’s really rude how people only come to visit me when they need something. No one ever asks ‘How are you doing, Mogar?’ or ‘Can I do something for you, Mogar?’ Like I’m just an emotionless piece of rock.”
“How are you doing, Mogar? Is there something I can help you with?” Solus said while approaching the first sphere.
“Too little and too late for that, child.” Mogar clicked her tongue in annoyance. “But yes, there is. And you’re already doing it.”
“What do you- By my Mom!” Solus jumped back in the nick of time, avoiding Grimbark’s lounge by a hair’s breadth.
Standing in front of her there was Zogar Vastor, but instead of his White Griffon professor uniform, he was wearing Bytra’s Dominator armor and wielded his own Yggdrasill staff.
Its top had been shaped like a tower with one prancing lion at either side, the insignia of the Vastor Household. The tower was crowned with a single white crystal the size of an apple that the lions kept in place with their raised forelegs and opened mouths.
Yet more than the runes covering most of the surfaces of the wood and the metal of the armor was the sight of a small bundle of black scales wrapped in a baby towel with a hood.
“The Professor and Elysia?” Solus blinked several times but the vision didn’t change. “What happened to Arthan?”
“Ah, that’s no longer an option, now.” Mogar tilted her head, twisting Elina’s mouth in a mocking smile that the real one would never make. “During your friends’ last visit, the Golden Griffon still stood. Don’t you remember?”
“What about the Madness? I thought that was the key.” Solus asked.
“Good for you. You were wrong.” Mogar-Elina shrugged. “Now stop asking me and start asking him.”
“Face me if you dare!” Echo-Vastor said. “I’ll kill you where you stand.”
His bright black-violet aura and the Chaos spells coursing through his body were enough to convince Solus that his words were far from empty threats. That, and the baby crying in fear at Solus’ sight made her step back until they both went back to being spheres.
“That was weird.” Solus waited until her heart stopped trying to break free from her chest before approaching the second sphere.
This time instead of strolling there she moved slowly while keeping her footing steady and her guard high.
She needed them both when a handful of over 23 centimeters (9″) long claws tried to rip her face off while a heat ray aimed at her heart moved faster than a bullet.
She used the Fury to deflect the claws and sidestepped the spells, never taking her eyes off her enemy.
Nalrond and his Rezar half stood side by side, attacking each other as much as they attacked Solus. They wounded and maimed one another non-stop, causing a mirror injury to appear on themselves.
Yet no matter how deep the cuts were, they healed as quickly as they were opened.
‘Dammit, whatever the cure for Nalrond’s condition was, it’s not available anymore as well. If only I had a way to understand if he’s gotten closer or further to merging his life forces, I would have a solid hint to understand the new answer.’ Solus thought.
