Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWELVE:
Trial of Integrity

Crossing the threshold of the archway led him into a distinctly different terrain. This terrain was a lovely meadow, and Cloak knew that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it. He had a task to do, and a task he was obligated to do. He couldn't allow those diaries to fall into the wrong hands. He continued forward, well aware that he would eventually be stopped, and he saw the figure before him.

She was a powerfully built Realm Walker with small heads, thick, short necks, stocky, wedge-shaped bodies and short tails. Her feet are plantigrade and short, with five toes on each foot. Her limbs were short and massive, with naked lower surfaces on the feet. Her claws are strong, elongated and have an obtuse end, which shown obvious wear. Her claws were not retractable, and her hind claws was worn. Her snout are muscular and flexible. Her eyes were small and the ears short and tipped with white. Whiskers are present on her snout and above the eyes. She was about half Cloak's height. She was an anthropomorphic European badger.

"Why did you bother coming all this way?" she said, almost in a slothful way, which seemed counter to her form, as badgers seemed to be creatures that were always active. "Why not just take the easy way out?"

Cloak couldn't answer, or get a word in edgewise, when a chorus started singing:

"Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Take the easy, easy way out.
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way out?"

The badger Realm Walker sang:

"Hey, Cloaky, gee, I can plainly see,
Being good rubs you the wrong way.
Why buy a chop you can simply cop?
What sick Dweller says crime doesn't pay?
You'll find the kind of life you've been whining for
Right in front of your snout.
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way out?"

Cloak recoiled at this. This was the antithesis to everything -- everything -- that he stood for. The first two lines were patently and plainly untrue, and Cloak, frankly, found it offensive. He actually found the entire thing offensive.

"A friend in need is a pain indeed.
It's a rule that infrequently fails.
Some just say 'nope' to the hopeless dope
Who needs help, when you're doing your nails!
Cloaky boy, it's your lucky day.
I'll show you what it's about!
How to take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Take the easy, easy way out.
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way O-U-T . . . ?"

"Because it's against --" Cloak began, before being interrupted.

"Yeah, right.

Come to the barbecue that awaits you.
Soon you are certain to shout.
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way out?
A god who supplants for the thanks of dance,
Ought to hitch a ride when he has the chance.

Get my drift?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Cloak said, who wasn't swayed.

"You'll find the kind of life you've been whining for
Right in front of your snout!
If you take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Take the easy, easy way out.
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way?
Take the easy, easy way, easy way.
Why not take the easy way O-U-T, OUT!?"

"BECAUSE IT'S AGAINST EVERYTHING -- ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING -- THAT I STAND FOR!!" Cloak roared, furious.

SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-my9W0SDVl0

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Unwavering Integrity

"Whoa," she said, in a laid-back way that just irritated the Elements Master for some reason. "Take it easy there, pal, there's no need to get all in a huff about it."

Cloak was further annoyed by this action as well. She was just doing precisely what she was endorsing through song and was taking the easy way out of this conversation. Opting out of the confrontation. Cloak believed the human phrase was "like a ****". And Cloak was going to leave it at that, leave this lazy layabout to her business. He had failed to take into account that she was nosy.

"It's not my fault that you don't know how to relax," she said. "It's not my fault that you don't have any chill."

Cloak should have just gone ahead and ignored this. But what she said aroused his anger . . . but one of the previous trials was about being decisive, and Cloak felt addressing this badger layabout would be counter to being decisive. But he couldn't help himself.

"'Don't have any chill'?" Cloak said, with a dangerous tone in his voice. He didn't turn around to face this badger Realm Walker. Her ambivalence was such that it seemed to be almost sinful, her utter indifference to the hard work most endeavors require for any real progress on any achievement. Then Cloak rounded on her, "Seriously? That's going to be your argument."

Cloak didn't allow her to reply, before continuing, "I work hard for what I have. I work hard for what I have so that it would have meaning. If you constantly get things handed to you, then any achievements coming from that,  any achievement just handed to you, would be hollow and worthless. I'm not saying that people won't need help every now and then, but having someone else do all the work for you so you can just reap the rewards afterward? Is that truly rewarding to you? Only by working hard, and with passion, on a project or sport or something of the like  will it be fulfilling. If you're not going to work hard, why bother getting any sort of accolades or perceived accomplishments? You cannot accomplish anything worthwhile unless you're willing to put forth the necessary work and effort into it, and have it mean something."

At the end of this, he turned and strode away from this badger Realm Walker, without another word. He strode through the archway, his temper cooling.

***

Kane wasn't willing to work for anything that he had. He believed and had expected everyone to hand him everything he wanted on a silver platter, much to the grave annoyance of the other RAFians. Even Dino was extremely fed up with the guy, and preferred to avoid his company. There were times where she would have to suffer his arrogance and slothful nature. And it was never a particularly good idea to tee off someone who could literally crush you underfoot.

Kane wasn't too big on good sense, preferring to always take the easy way out. The ease of any given task is what motivates him which assignments and missions to take. He hadn't any power, nor any particularly useful skill -- causing many a RAFian wonder how he made it through Esplin's basic training -- which tended to prove rather rigorously grueling. For good reason, you know. It was meant to weed out people like Kane, people who are only interested in the glory and perceived prestige that came from it. It was meant to weed out the worthless layabouts from joining. But the lurkers all came from somewhere.

Kane was of the belief that he was so great, so beloved, so adored, people couldn't possibly help but give him what he wants. He believed wholeheartedly that people should be genuflecting kisses at his feet and metaphorically kissing his butt. He was rather insufferable to be around because of this, but, apparently, this wasn't enough to rescind his RAFian registration, or even Ban him. Even Queen wasn't this intolerable. Even when she was Banned, she held some decorum, maintained some class (granted, arrogantly), that seemed even out of reach for Kane.

Even his own parents found these aspect about him and his ever-expanding ego (with the fragility of snow's longevity in summer). He's clearly never had to give a hard day's labor in his entire life, and he's never been told no. He's always surrounded himself with yes-men and butt-kissers all his life, and he was livid when they abandoned him, without a word of notice, when his family cut him off.

And he was trying to find the same yes-men and butt-kissers amongst the RAFians, only failing to accomplish that. And, of course, he didn't want to put too much effort into this. He believed that they would come to him, that he'd have fans and hangers on, despite having accomplished nothing but being a spoiled, rich brat who really hadn't any reason being a RAFian. Fortunately, he hadn't a Mark. Newcomers had to earn the right to have one, and usually got it after their first year.* And Kane didn't really earn what he had. He just tried to lay claim to everything he had "achieved" by birthright, which doesn't really work when birthright has nothing to do with anything in RAF.

Kane was in for a quiet rude awakening.


* Yes, I'm aware that this may be a bit of a retcon.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Trial of Justice

Cloak walked into a sandy desert. He remembered hearing complaints of sand being too coarse and getting everywhere -- he found these complaints rather juvenile and trivial. Granted, sand wasn't his fondest terrain to travel on, as it muddied his Earthsight making it very difficult to use. He was well aware of his over-reliance on it, and would fully acknowledge it, if asked.

Anyway, he moved onward, his feet shifting the sand. This entire area seemed devoid of life . . . but Cloak knew better. These trials had all required interaction with unknown Realm Walkers, all of which Cloak was unsure were even real. He pondered this as he moved onward, looking for this interactable Realm Walker or the archway (though he highly doubted that the latter would be that easy). Then he heard a song, roughly towards nine o'clock -- directly to his left.

"Mud . . .
Sand . . .
Water . . .
Straw . . ."

Cloak, curious, went to investigate and saw a large amount of Realm Walkers toiling to build some sort of structure, which was still half-built. He had a sinking feeling what this was about. He wasn't fond of slavery. Given his relationship with his mother, and how he was treated for the majority of his twenties by her, it was understandable.

"Faster!" said more healthy-looking Realm Walkers with whips, cracking it at these slaves.

"Mud . . .
And lift,
Sand . . .
And --
Pull!
Water . . .
And raise up . . .
Straw . . ."

"Faster!" the guards demanded, with even harsher tones.

"With the sting of the whip on my shoulder,
With the salt of my sweat on my brow,
First Light on high,
Can't you hear your people cry?
Help us now!
In this dark hour . . ."

Cloak could have turned away. Cloak could have walked away from this. Cloak could have ignored this.

"Deliver us!
Hear our call!
Deliver us!
Light within all.
Remember us, here in this burning sand!
Deliver us!
Deliver us to the freedom land . . ."

Cloak probably should have kept out of this. He didn't have all the information . . . he could have been jumping to conclusions. He could be just assuming based on his own backstory, his own history. . . . But he listened to the words of the song. . . .

"Deliver us!
Hear our prayer!
Deliver us!
From despair!
These years of slavery grow too cruel to stand!
Deliver us!
There's a land you promised us!
Deliver us!
Out of bondage and
Deliver us to the freedom land . . ."

Cloak sighed. He couldn't ignore this. He couldn't walk away from this. He couldn't turn them away. They . . . they needed him. They needed his help. Regardless whether or not this was part of the trial, he would have to do something. He could not let this stand.

"Deliver us,
Deliver us.
Deliver us to the freedom's land . . ."

Cloak went into the Apex Tier, and prepared to emancipate these people, regardless if they were real or not.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WKN0XF8-3Q

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Only Justice'll Bring Peace

There was a spacious room with these healthier Realm Walkers adorn in overly ostentatious clothing. Full of whites, golds, and blacks. They wore ornamental rose quartzes, amethysts, pearls, rubies, pearls, garnets, sugillite, sardonyxes, opals, alexandrites, rainbow quartzes, smokey quartzes, lapis lazuli, jaspers, peridots, yellow diamonds, blue diamonds, agates, pink diamonds, aquamarines, topazes, citrines, emeralds, hessonites, nephrites, and white diamonds. All gaudy and unnecessary.

The massive, gilded, grotesquely ornate doors swung open, as gusts of mist billowed into the room in. The cavorting court looked at this with scandalized and shocked looks, as the mist cleared to show a silhouette, in an impressive entrance. The silhouette's eyes were golden scarlet suns, and frightening. The person on the overly ornate throne -- which was gold studded with a pink diamond on the base, a yellow diamond in the right armrest, a blue diamond in the left armrest, and a white diamond in the high back of the throne, with a rich, velvet cushioning -- was a mole with strange eyewear, which clearly was to improve his poor eyesight. Mole Realm Walkers have better eyesight than ordinary, blind moles, but not by much.

"I've seen your slaves, Conqueror," Cloak said, sounding like Avatar Roku, and not caring. "And I've emancipated them from your forceful employ."

"And what has given you the right to do this?" said the mole, Conqueror. How such a tiny thing could conquer anything or anyone was beyond him.

"What has given you the right to enslave others?" Cloak countered, folding his arms across his chest.

"Divine providence," Conqueror replied.

Cloak's frown deepened. "'Divine providence'. Do you realize how weak that argument actually is?"

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," he said, utterly contemptuous and dismissive.

"And I can say the same of you," Cloak replied easily.

Conqueror snapped his fingers, and shouted, "Gas! Lit! Do your stuff."

A donkey-form Realm Walker wearing topaz-studded jewelry and an elephantine Realm Walker wearing aquamarine-studded jewelry stepped forward as a musical intro began. and, after a few minutes, they began to sing:

"So you think you've got friends in high places,
With the power to put us on the run.
Well, forgive us these smiles on our faces!
You'll know what power is when we are done . . .
Son . . ."

They obviously didn't know what Cloak was truly capable of. He kept a planet spinning for ten hours straight -- granted, he needed substantial rest after such an exertion, but that didn't mean that he couldn't do it again. And this time he wouldn't have to worry about going too fast or too slow -- that was the really exhausting part of it. Naturally, he wasn't intimidated by Gas the donkey Realm Walker, and Lit the elephantine Realm Walker.

"You're playing with the big boys now!
Playing with the big boys now!
Ev'ry attack and gesture,
Tells you who's the better!.
You're laying with the big boys now!"

Cloak didn't move or sway or even look at them, as the two circled around him like vultures. He wasn't moved, and his face remained set. He would not be intimidated, especially by a couple of swaggering fools.

"You're playing with the big boys now!
You're playing with the big boys now!
Stop this foolish mission!
Watch a true tactician!
Give an exhibition how!
You're playing with the big boys now!"

Cloak struggled not to smile. A "true tactician", eh? Funny how such "tacticians" miscalculated so badly. It's almost as if they wanted to lose . . . but that was ridiculous, wasn't it?

"By the power of Conqueror!"

What power, precisely? He wasn't an Elements Master, Cloak was sure. He was of no relation to the tiger Realm Walker. What power did Conqueror have to allow him to ascertain such political power?

"You're playing with the big boys now!
You're playing with the big boys now!
By the might of Dolores,
You will kneel before us!
Kneel to our splendorous power! . . ."

Who was Dolores?

And kneel before them? Hardly. A mountain would bow before howling winds before he would kneel before them. He would never bow his head to them.

"You put up a front!
You put up a fight!
And just to show we feel no spite,
You can be our acolyte!
But first, boy, it's time to bow!
(Kowtow!)
Or it's your own grave you'll dig, boy.
You're playing with the big boys now!
Playing with the big boys now!"

"Are you done?" Cloak said, sounding rather bored. "Because I have other things to do than listen to empty bravado and untrue assertions, and I've just come to bring justice towards those that you enslaved."

Conqueror left his throne, and walked up to Cloak and tried to get into his face. But he wasn't tall enough to do so, and this wasn't intimidating at all.

"And what are you going to do when I retake my slaves back?"

"You won't be doing that." Cloak said. His flippancy seemed to be a personal insult to Conqueror.

"Why? Are you going to kill me?" he pushed Cloak, but he was unable to move the Realm Walker. Cloak was at least twice his size, anyway.

"There are ways of destroying a man without killing them," Cloak said, aerokinetically pushing him away, and disrobing him. Embarrassment, humiliation, and emasculation were far better tools than slaying opponents, Cloak knew this from personal experience. He had just removed any threatening credibility that Conqueror had. "Case in point."

Then, to his left, an archway opened up, and he strode to it.

"You'll regret this," Conqueror growled, but when Cloak looked back the entire room was empty. Cloak shrugged and crossed the threshold of the archway.

***

Kane was, in many ways, what the military would call a blue falcon, a supposed comrade whose actions harm his or her friends, often but not always, for his or her own benefit. Only Kane was a bit too brazen about this.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxyOTFQFWQ0

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Trial of Perception

Cloak was walking on a bare mountaintop. He wasn't cold at all, and wasn't bothered by the blustering wind. After all, he could deflect and redirect the wind, as Air was one of the Six Elements. He continued to walk onward, wondering what this next trial would be. He was starting to understand how no one found these diaries before if everyone had to go through these trials. Not to sound immodest, not everyone would be able to see pass their own ambitions, not everyone could be decisive with what they had to do, not everyone wouldn't be swayed about taking the easy way out, not everyone would seek justice to the end . . .

He was suddenly accosted by a bald eagle Realm Walker, but too young to have the white head of a mature one. Like Sage -- and this one seemed to be almost an insult to his memory as this eagle Realm Walker was nothing like him. The fact that she lacked a white head, clearly meant that she was still juvenile. Cloak saw this, and this eagle bombarded him with squawking questions.

Cloak started to bat her away -- she was getting far too much into his personal space, and Realm Walkers weren't really big on touching, intimately or otherwise. Other species might have seen this as Realm Walkers being emotionally distant, but that wasn't true. Because of what they were -- essentially corporealized energy beings, somewhat like Anodites, in a way.

Cloak wished to keep his distance from this eagle Realm Walker, and she didn't seem to understand this. And she seemed almost psychotic, in Cloak's opinion. Yes, there could be psychotic Realm Walkers, just like any other species. No sapient, sentient, thinking species -- despite what they claim to the contrary -- is immune from psychosis.

She seemed to take Cloak's rejection very hard, and started to . . . sing . . .

"I was far too smart from the very start.
Cause my father came from the Nexus.
I began to grow,
Little did Misled know . . .
I had my own plans for him.
He thought i was tame,
HA!"

Cloak was finding this newly-fledged eagle rather unnerving and off-putting. And her behavior was very . . . erratic . . . and . . . unstable. . . .

"Just my little game --
Until this all became MINE!
They all do as i say.
No one stands in my way!
Everybody here is happy
Or I'll have them slightly altered!"

Cloak looked around, and saw no one. Who was she talking . . . oh, First Light, she was delusional.

"I can do as I please,
I can change things with ease.
Horn or hair or fin or feather,
I control the wind and weather!"

:
"What?" Cloak said, taken off guard a bit. But this confirmed Cloak's unprofessional diagnosis that she was delusional.

"We can rule the world together,
If you come with me.
You'll be happy,
Oh, so happy,
When you come with me.
You'll be king of everything,
Of all that you can see.
Ah ha-ha-ha.
Just say yes, hero --"

"No," Cloak said, simply. He had no interest in her in anything even resembling a romantic light. She was much too young, much too . . . deranged, for his liking.

"Just think what we two can do,
You and me, me and you.
Buck yourself up,
Don't look so sad!
We'll have more
Than my dear old daddy had!
Butterflies and pretty flowers,
Sunny skies and super powers!
Silver streams and fluffy kitties,
laser beams and rubble cities!"

"I'm not crazy. You, however, I have might suspicions about. Also, no, I won't say it." Cloak said.

"Take your chance!
While you can.
Join in my master plan!
You wont tell me I'm too blabby,
When I'm ruler of Nexus Valley!"

"What?" Cloak said, before he could stop himself. There was no place called Nexus Valley. Sure, the Universal Nexus had mountains and valleys and such, but none were named "Nexus Valley". It would be like Earth having a valley called "Earth Valley".

"All of it will be mine.
Everyday will be fine.
All the schedules will run on time,
And they'll be no more wars and crime
And I'll reduce your brain to slime!
Unless you just say yes!"

"No." Cloak said. He hoped that it sounded firm enough to her.

"You'll be happy,
Oh, so happy,
If you just say yes!
Oh, poor fellow,
Mind like jello!
Such a nasty mess!
Come on in
To the greatest kind of life,
To the best,
And the latest kind of life!
You'll be happy,
Nice and happy,
Perfect happiness beyond measure!
Purest pleasure,
If you just say yes!"

"No," Cloak said, calmly.

"It's our chance to rule
To let it slip away
Don't be upset
It won't hurt much.
You won't regret it.
If you just say yes . . .
Just say yes!"

"No," Cloak repeated.

"EHHH!" she said, imitating a buzzer, "WRONG ANSWER!"


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpnxBuO6l_s

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Discomforted

Her demeanor changed immediately. Her whole personality became more aloof and distant, but not in a good or healthy way. Her eyes were like cold, gold coins. She was clearly mentally-challenged, and, yes, Realm Walkers were not immune from such challenges. No sentient, thinking species was. And each species, Cloak found, had a markedly different way of dealing with it. Some, like Andalites, segregated them from themselves and isolated them, effectively exiling them from "normal" members of their species. Some species, presumably like the Predators, just outright killed them. Some species just ignored them entirely, punishing them just as harshly as any other individual of the species -- which some Realm Walkers actually advocate. Some species try to help them the best they can, like some humans advocate.

Cloak did not know this young eagle's story, but he already knew it couldn't have been an easy one. Realm Walkers are not exactly the most compassionate, loving species in existence. He knew his kind could be cruel, ruthless, and domineering. And arrogant, a trait he knows that he, himself, has demonstrated time to time. He started to feel sympathy for the eagle Realm Walker before him, but that did not reciporicate into the feelings that she so desperately wanted, the feelings that she so ardently desired.

Cloak may not have known her story, but he could speculate based on the behavior he witnessed. She clearly had never experienced love -- Realm Walker parents would consider a child with such a disability shameful and embarrassing. At least, in the past cultural climate. It was not something that was prone to getting people sympathy. Granted, this was before his time when these things had mellowed out some, but not entirely. Realm Walkers may have been the oldest sentient species, but they were still evolving and maturing. Each species matures at different rates, and some merely had a head start.

"You don't like that?" she said, still sounding rather deranged. "Or maybe you don't like me!"

Well, this was a change.

A discordant guitar played in the background, as she sang:

"Sorry that I don't treat you like a god,
Is that what you want me to do?
Sorry that I don't treat you like you're perfect,
Like all your little loyal Elements do,
Sorry that I'm not made of sugar,
Am I not sweet enough for you?
Is that why you reject me?
That must be such an inconvenience to you,
Well . . . I'm just your problem,
I'm just your problem,
It's like I'm not even a person, am I?
I'm just your problem.
Well, I shouldn't have to justify what I do.
I shouldn't have to prove anything to you!
I'm sorry that I exist,
I forget what landed me on your blacklist.
But I shouldn't have to be the one that makes up with you.
So . . . why do I want to?"

"Look," Cloak said, gently. "You're not well."

The eagle Realm Walker said nothing, but swayed a bit, as if she was drunk. It wasn't entirely impossible for Realm Walkers to get drunk or high, but many of them chose not to. There was nothing wrong with it -- unless they did it to excesses, which did happen from time to time -- sometimes with fatal consequences. It probably should be noted that the analogous beverages that Realm Walkers have to humans' liquor is quite a bit more . . . potent. Which is understandable, considering the rather significant differences between the species.

"Look," Cloak said, as if speaking to highly emotional child, "you need help. Unfortunately, it is not help I can provide you. But . . . I . . ."

Cloak realized his scope to helping her was far more limited than he initially realized. People cannot get that kind of help, and have it do anything worthwhile, unless they wanted it, unless they wanted to better themselves. You cannot force any amount of therapy to work on someone, you cannot force people to change. And Cloak wasn't entirely sure if this Walker even knew that she wasn't stable mentally or, it would seem, psychologically.

She fled from Cloak, who hesitated a moment before giving chase, and finding an archway. He careened through it, and into the next trial without really meaning to.

***

Kane was anything but an academic. He was brutish, uncultured, and unlearned.

"Kane . . ." Shenmue said, lowering her book at his sudden appearance. Like most of the others, she was not fond of him. She found him incredibly rude and conceited -- and was not incredibly eager to find herself in his company. When she spoke, it was with determined politeness and courtesy, "Good . . . morning . . ."

He moved around her, and plucked her book from her hands. She was miffed with this, but determined not to lower herself to his juvenile level. Her patience was thoroughly tried, though. She spoke with determined civility, "Kane, may have my book, please?"

"How can you read this? There's no pictures," he said, flipping through the book rather flippantly.

"Well, some people use their imagination," Shenmue said. It took her all her self-control not to show her annoyance. Kane was such a manchild.

"Shenmue, it's time you got your head out of these books and pay attention to more important things," he said, tossing her book into a mud puddle. She couldn't help but scowl at him for this, as she went to retrieve the book. "Like me."

Shenmue was revolted at the suggestion. She despised Kane -- and he was actually hitting on her. Talk about being oblivious.

"The whole forum's talking about it," he said, trying to appear grandiose and impressive. And in a very juvenile way, at that. That statement was outright wrong and a lie, and he knew it, but he preferred to live in his own reality with his own "facts". "It's not right for a woman to read."

Shenmue stood and gave him a penetrating glare. She knew his pompous, self-aggrandizing pontification was just empty and hollow, but he seemed to believe that he was winning her over. Shenmue was astounded by the size of his massive ego, and she found that a deterrent from being in his company. Yet, he persisted.

"Soon she gets ideas, and starts thinking --" he said, believing what he was saying was impressive and persuasive.

"You might want to consider it sometime," Shenmue said, coolly. That actually stunned him into silence, and she walked away, elated to be out of his company.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLyGQnKMeLU

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Trial of Distraction

Cloak hesitated a minute, feeling bad that he couldn't help that other Realm Walker. She may have been deranged, but that wasn't necessarily her fault. She couldn't control that . . . she couldn't control her mental instability. It wasn't her fault, Cloak could hardly blame her for her . . . erratic behavior. He wished he could have helped her . . . then again, there was also the chance that she was just a construct of the trial, whatever it was.

Cloak surveyed his surroundings. He was standing in an icy tundra, and he didn't seem to be bothered by the cold. Could simply be because of his Realm Walker physiology or just some facet about these trials that he didn't even notice before. Cloak's mind just seemed full, that it felt as if his brain would start leaking through his ears, and these trials, surprisingly enough, seemed to be wearing down on him. He seemed to also seemed to forget why he was even doing this in the first place. He was basically just going through the motions at this point, knowing only that he had to move onward.

"Hiya, stranger," said a slow, drawling voice.

Cloak looked to his left and saw a polar bear Realm Walker sprawled out in the snow, with a strangely long pine needle sticking from his mouth, like a toothpick. He wore blues and whites, including his cloak. He was laying on the snow, as if he were laying on a grassy hill in a meadow. He was looking upward into the blue sky -- which was nothing like the Nexus -- with fluffy clouds. It looked as if this Realm Walker was just aimlessly watching the clouds, and divining shapes from them. Cloak believed the human terms for such an individual were "hayseed", or "yokel", or "bumpkin". An unsophisticated, rustic person.

"Pull up some snow," he suggested. He was certainly friendly enough. "Watch some of these fluffy things with me."

Cloak, despite himself, found himself tempted. Sorely tempted. Why did he have to go through these trials? It would be so much easier to . . . easier . . .

No. Cloak shook himself out of this apathetic stupor. No. He was after the diaries of Destiny, the Realm Walker that was essentially exiled because of she handed out spoilers to others' destinies. Those diaries contained material that should not be known by people ahead of time. Granted, her story claimed that time and her predictions were immutable, that trying to defy her predictions actually led to them and their conditions being fulfilled. Cloak wasn't sure that he believed that, but he saw the incredible dangers that such books would provide.

He couldn't believe that he allowed himself to forget that. He couldn't believe that had allowed himself to become distracted from that overall goal. As tempting as lollygagging around would be, he had a distinct purpose for being here. He had a goal that he must achieve . . . he needed to accomplish this. He needed to prevent those diaries from falling into the wrong hands, people who would misuse that knowledge to harm or exploit people. He did not believe that time or fate was immutable as Destiny apparently believed.

"Go on," the polar bear Realm Walker insisted. "Relax. Watch these fluffy things."

"No," Cloak said, before moving to stride away.

"You need to relax a little," the other Realm Walker said, serenely. "Being tense, worrying unnecessarily, fretting about nothing . . . that's no way to live. You've got to appreciate the little things once and a while . . ."

"True," Cloak conceded slowly.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Don't Let Him Distract You!

"True," Cloak repeated, with a firmer tone, "but one also has a responsibilities to attend to. One cannot simply shirk what one must do in favor of laying about and seeking out more . . . hedonistic pursuits."

"I'm just watching these fluffy things," the polar bear Realm Walker said, in a serene way. "How is that hedonistic?"

"I was speaking generally," Cloak countered. "But I don't really subscribe to Aristippian ideology, either."

"I have no idea what that means," he replied, tranquil.

"I don't have time to explain it," Cloak said, still trying to turn to leave. But the other Realm Walker's offer was still strangely enticing.

"Such a pity," he said, sounding sad, yet equanimous, at the same time. "Always in a rush, never any time to appreciate the little things. Is such a life really fulfilling?"

Cloak actually hesitated before answering. "Yes. My life is perfectly fulfilling, and it's so because I put in the hard work to make it so."

"But you still haven't slowed down," the polar bear Realm Walker said, sagely and imperturbable. "You're in such a hurry to go to your grave, missing the little pleasures, forgetting to appreciate simply being alive."

"Appreciating life is well and fine," Cloak said, rounding on him. "But sitting around, wasting time on frivolous, ultimately pointless endeavors? How's that any better than the other extreme?"

"It's appreciating all the little intricacies of the various connections," he said. He still had the unassailable placid and sedate tone of voice, and Cloak was now finding it rather grating. No one could be so calm, unruffled, and unbothered all the time. It just wasn't possible, unless all negative emotions were extracted out or he was under the influence of some sort of psychotropic substance that could affect Realm Walkers.

"You are aware of how vague and evasive that sounds, right?" Cloak countered easily.

The polar bear Realm Walker shrugged in a detached, indifferent way, as if he didn't care.

"You're a distraction from my goal," Cloak said, somewhat harshly. The other Realm Walker seemed to not care at all, and that seemed to be his irritating schtick. "Good day."

Then Cloak took his leave and walked through the archway that appeared at roughly eleven o'clock.

***

Kane was lazing around, quietly lamenting losing his life of distraction. While he wasn't cut off from his parents' money, he was able to live a life with luxury and excess. He missed it desperately, and he wouldn't hesitate to tell anyone around him how he wronged felt by it. Now he actually had to put forth effort to survive, he couldn't have people take care of him. He wasn't liked at all, but he remained willfully and wantonly ignorant of it. His massive ego was that fragile.

When Saffa scolded him, he made up things about her. Slanderous lies. When this got back to Saffa, she immediately stormed over to him, and punched him so hard, she flattened his nose. Then she warned him not to spread such slanderous lies about her again. Saffa was not a RAFian, nor a woman, to be trifled with in such a manner. Kane had to learn this in the hard way, as he always had to learn these lessons.

When Shenmue burned him with that comeback, he sequestered himself in his thread -- which was unsurprisingly sparsely decorated, as he didn't have many belongings since being cut off. He stayed in there and groused in his petulance, he refused to believe or admit or acknowledge that he was ever wrong. In his mind, he was always right in everything that he did, and everyone else was wrong. Everyone who wronged him, in his mind, were evil and malicious, and he was an innocent little angel who could do no wrong. It was a simplistic philosophy and a selfish ideology.

But he refused to leave RAF. He wanted that Mark. He saw it as a mark of status and prestige, and desired it a bunch. He thought he deserved it more than anyone else. He thought he should have it by right -- and he was not-so-secretly miffed by the fact that he actually earn it. He thought that he should have had it handed to him the moment that he was registered. He didn't like the year-long wait time. This was instituted after the . . . ordeals with Rotiart and Odie.

Kane would have a hard lesson to learn, other than his flattened, broken nose.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Trial of Bravery

Cloak found himself inside a cavernous castle, with roughly hewn walls, and tapestries of red and gold full of rich heraldry. There were fires here and there, in ornate fireplace. It was a wonder how such seemingly small fireplaces could warm this rather bare, and sparsely decorated castle. Granted, he hadn't any idea what the temperatures outside were, or even if there was an outside. He didn't know if all this was real or just a construct by the trials to test him. And he was finding these trials exhaustive. This was like his seventh . . . wait, was it?

No, it was, indeed, his seventh trial. Had this been Alola, this would have been his final trial, but he wasn't in Alola. He didn't know how long this was taking. His corporeal self would be still sitting inert upon his bed, his thread's door locked and he would be unperturbed. He wondered how much time had passed there, because it felt like an eternity in here. Too many times Cloak had been sorely tempted to give up, but he had to proceed onward. Those diaries were too dangerous. They needed to be destroyed.

He wondered what this trial would entail. What facet of himself would be examined? What would he need to do to pass it? How would he go about it? Questions for later.

Cloak proceeded forward, although he was hesitant to leave the room studded with at least eight fireplaces, two on each wall, with a frosty window in between them. That was just proof how large this room was. It was at least large enough to play two full-court basketball games simultaneously. And the only decorations were the tapestries which demonstrated scenes of bloody (or "ichor-y", if you will) violence. There was no gore, due to the nature of Realm Walker physiology. as essentially energy beings.

"Come to die, little man?" said a throaty, guttural voice. Cloak looked and saw a leonine Realm Walker with a bushy black mane. He was larger than his cousin Airlion, Mercy's eldest son, and larger than Cloak's leonine Elements Master ancestor, Bravado. At least, in terms of physique. He couldn't be anymore than an inch or two within Cloak's own height, but his physique was more built and muscular than Cloak's himself. With a toothy, ichor-thirsty grin, he said, quietly, "Please say yes."

Cloak said nothing for a moment, retaining his poise. When he spoke, he spoke with determined calm, "Why do you desire my death?"

"No talking!" he snarled.

"Ah, I see," Cloak said "Brute mentality."

"Fight me!" he roared, as he punched Cloak, who dodged it, rather like an Airbender, though with minimal movement.

"Knowing nothing but violence, with brutish attacks and sloppy attacks," Cloak said. "It seems that I already fought someone with your tactical skills."

"Shut up and fight me!" the lion Realm Walker roared, trying to slam his fist down on Cloak. Cloak saw the intent in advance from his Earthsight, because this leonine shifted his weight the to the corresponding foot to the fist he slammed down.

"Brawler techniques, on the whole," Cloak said, continuing to analyze this Realm Walker before him. But he was refusing to attack back, trying to see if he could somehow employ diplomacy. "Not big on tactics and strategy."

"You talk too much!" he roared.

"Not big on tactics and strategy," Cloak continued, dodging the charge with relative ease. This guy had nothing on Garrotik, Galacticron, Brainiac, or the like. Veil, he was a shameful stand-in for Malice. "Just attacking with no concern for your own safety or any collateral damage.'

"Shut up!"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
A Different Kind of Bravery

"Shut up!!" the leonine Realm Walker roared in frustration. The sound was almost deafening, but Cloak wasn't daunted. He had faced more fearsome threats than a violence-crazed, fisticuffs-enamored Realm Walker. All in all, Cloak found this specimen before him rather . . . unimpressive. "Shut up and FIGHT ME!!!"

"You sound like a child," Cloak said, disparagingly.

"You sound like a wimp!" he roared again.

"'Wimp'." Cloak repeated, expertly dodging all his attacks. He wasn't about to give in, especially to loud-mouthed brawler like him. "You think that's an effective insult? Are you serious?"

"Shut it and FIGHT ME!!" he demanded, sounding more like an overgrown, petulant child rather than the intimidating behemoth he imagined. He imagined himself akin to a Solgaleo, when he was more of a Lv. 100 Skitty.

"No," Cloak said, resolutely. "At least, in the way you want me to."

"Stop talking! Start fighting!" he roared again. Brute mentality had a habit of making these individuals so . . . predictable.

"Not all battles involve attacking your foe directly," Cloak said. "Hopefully, when you lose this, you'll take this lesson close to heart."

"You can't beat me!" he snarled obnoxiously. "You haven't thrown a single blow!"

Cloak fought the urge to sigh resignedly. It was really like talking to a brick wall . . . strike that, a brick wall would have struck up a much more interesting and engaging conversation.

"Sometimes direct involvement isn't necessary to secure victory," Cloak said, dodging another attack. The blow hit the stone flooring again, and Cloak smiled inwardly at this. "But those hardheaded enough, and with a single-minded pursuit of direct, frontal assaults for ridiculous reasons of machismo and braggadocio, like yourself, apparently will never comprehend such a thing."

"FIGHT ME, COWARD!!" he roared.

"Coward?" Cloak scoffed. "Just because I'm working on a strategy?"

"STRATEGY SCHMATEGY!" he roared. "You're a coward!! You're running away from me!!"

"I'm dodging your attacks, not running away," Cloak said, with far more patience than this leonine Realm Walker deserved. "There is a difference."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" he roared, punching the ground. The castle floor shuttered, and Cloak used his Mastery of Earth to cling to the side of the wall, as if he was a Dai Li agent. This leonine Realm Walker looked around, confused and perplexed. This just increased when the floor shook more violently this time. Upon the third time, the floor gave way. The leonine Realm Walker didn't seem to notice until it was far too late to do anything about it.

Cloak looked and saw the archway open up on the opposite side of the room, and he managed his way over there, and swung through it.

***

Kane was not a brave man, despite liking to pretend and boast that he was. He was a coward at heart, but a shameless braggart and he wasn't above stealing the credit for the deeds of others, going full-on Gilderoy Lockhart. But he hadn't any true bravery -- proven once again by his decision to avoid Saffa at all costs. He was now afraid of her, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone. His ego and his pride would not allow it.

Kane, for the most part, decided to sequester himself to his thread for the time being.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
The Final Trial

Cloak came into what appeared to be a modern city on Earth, in the Prime Realm. It looked very similar that city next to . . . what the Veil was that? Cloak looked up, and in the clouds was the wide, bovine face of a bison Realm Walker. He immediately thought of a friend of his from his formative years, Blazon, who was a bison Realm Walker as well. But this wasn't him, the bison in this image had his left horn broken off.

"BOW DOWN BEFORE THE ARMADA OF FORBIDDEN!" a monstrous, loud voice boomed.

There was a smattering of panicked conversation, though Cloak couldn't see their sources. The Elements Master couldn't see what the reason for the fear and terror was. It was just a face projection into the clouds. And he's heard far more intimidating bluster before.

"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!!"

Okay, he just stole that from the Borg.

"YIELD AND YOU WILL BE SPARED!!!"

Cloak raised an eyebrow. This is the same kind of bluster that those with brute mentality tend to use when their egos grow out of control, which happens fairly frequently, in Cloak's experience. It usually comes with the fallacy of immortality or being untouchable -- and those are dangerously self-destructive concepts to wrap yourself in. ****iness is no one's friend.

"DEFY THE FORBIDDEN AND YOU WILL DIE."

Well, that was succinct. And obvious.

"ALL REVOLUTIONARIES WILL BE ANNIHILATED."

Now they were just repeating themselves.

"THE FORBIDDEN CAN BE YOUR SALVATION."

Now, they're angling for propaganda.

"THE FORBIDDEN CAN BE YOUR RUINATION."

Cloak narrowed his eyes. This "Forbidden" was clearly an authoritarian tyrant, and Cloak saw shapes around him cowering before this face and booming voice. Cloak failed to see what was so terrifying about it. Clearly, this "Forbidden" had some sort of massive power to cause such terror, but Cloak wasn't really seeing it.

"YOU ARE NOW THE PROPERTY OF FORBIDDEN --"

"Why?" Cloak said, quietly, that nonetheless carried enough to whoever was projecting this.

"YOU DARE TO SPEAK TO THE FORBIDDEN?!" he roared, as if this was some great insult.

"Yes," Cloak said, simply. He showed no fear, because he was far more perplexed and curious than fearful and terrified.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE RAMIFICATIONS OF SPEAKING TO THE FORBIDDEN WHEN YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SPOKEN TO?!?!" he raged.

"I understand that you like to refer to yourself in the third person," Cloak said, almost serenely.

"YOU DARE TO MOCK FORBIDDEN AND HIS ARMADA?!?!?!" he yelled forcefully.

"When did I mock you?" Cloak asked, patiently.

"YOU DARE TO CONTINUE TO MOCK FORBIDDEN AND HIS ARMADA?!?!?!" he roared threateningly.

Cloak considered this, and considered the fact that he may be getting complacent. "Don't you think that you're being a little over-sensitive to this?"

Suddenly, what appeared to be a spotlight was aimed towards Cloak, and Cloak blinked in mild surprise.

"FORBIDDEN ARMADA, OBLITERATE!!" he roared.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Glimpse of Destiny

Suddenly, a massive beam of energy, colored gold and white, barreled towards Cloak, with concussive force. But the Realm Walker wasn't daunted. He braced his stance, and solidified his root to the ground. Then he shot his right hand, with his index and middle finger extended, pointing directly at the exact center of the blast. Then he waited for impact. Waited very patiently.

At the moment of impact, the beam did not impact him at all. It was siphoned into his two outstretched fingers, traveled down his right arm as he withdrew it his chest, forcing the beam across his stomach, he extended his left index and middle fingers as the beam began to travel to his left shoulder. Then he extended his left arm, as the beam left through those two fingers, with a powerful blast of his own energy, exponentially increasing the damage output of the beam.

"WHAT?!?!" Forbidden demanded.

But Cloak said nothing -- redirecting this beam and adding his own energy to it had actually drained him. It was a wonder that he was still actually still standing upright. He watched blithely as the face was destroyed and he prominent flagship in the armada suffered considerable damage, which leeched off to the other sky-ships in the armada, which were shaped like pyramids or diamonds. Cloak couldn't tell -- his vision was blurring and he was swaying on the spot.

He was actually fighting to remain conscious (or as conscious as he was in this strange dream space deal -- he was still technically on his bed, meditating). But he was completely drained -- his legs felt like vibrating jello. His joints felt stiff and yet rubbery, as if he worked ten hours straight, after walking to work for an hour, and walking back from work for a hour. His eyes kept drooping, and his swaying became progressively worse.

Eventually, with the Armada gone, Cloak fell over to his right side, barely feeling impact. Through his blurring vision he saw the area he was in melt away, giving way to a brilliant white room with a strange figure in a room beyond in a vaguely "T" pose. This figure was initially so frightening . . . she really was an ancient Realm Walker.

He closed his eyes, and allowed his thoughts to fall in on each other, wondering if he would wake up from his meditation, or in this white room . . .

***

Kane was also a selfish person. He wouldn't sacrifice himself for anyone, but he wasn't above sacrificing anyone else to save his own skin. He was a true coward in every sense of the word. This is another reason why none of the RAFians would trust the provisional RAFian -- they all had good reason to. He had done nothing to win trust, nor did he expect that he even had do anything to earn or warrant trust.

"They should trust me," he would grouse in his thread. "I'm their better. I'm better than all of them put together."

He would go to pace around his thread.

"It's not fair," Kane whined. "Those bastard parents cut me off for no reason."

They actually had a perfectly legitimate reason to cut him off -- he squandered the money they gave him, and he was unwilling to work hard for anything. And his parents had actually earned their money, as hard as it was to believe.

"So I became a RAFian," he simpered, "so the prestige and notoriety should be mine! But they refuse to give it to me. I deserve it! I'm just as important as any of them! I'm more important!!"

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
The Eight Seekers

Cloak awoke to find himself in a glistening hallway of marble and alabaster. He noticed some areas seemed to be in disrepair, but he ignored it. He was still not in his meditative state, clearly. He saw the image of that figure in his mind, the fearfulness of it had eroded when he started to consider . . .

Then he realized that he was surrounded by eight energy orbs, four on his right and four on his left. The orbs on his left were pale green and dull silver, yellow and black, blue and bronze, and fiery red and pale gold, while the orbs on his right were black and gold, brown and tan, blue and white, and green and brown. They were like the bichromatic colors of a Realm Walker energy output -- which was rather like the fingerprint of a human. It was exceedingly rare for two Realm Walkers to share the precise bichromatic colors, colors of the exact, identical same shading and vibrancy.

Cloak got up and walked to the pale green and dull silver, and touched it. When he did, he got flashes from another lifetime of a failed seeker of the diaries of Destiny. It was the kingsnake Realm Walker, who took the name of Hokum. The very one that Cloak met in his Trial of Ambition, and those were his energy colors. He had sought out the diaries just to know whether his entertainment desires and ambitions would come true, how far they would go, and what he would have to do to change fate so that he could make a living doing what he wanted. He wasn't inherently bad, just misguided if anything. He didn't pass really any of his trials, and became stuck unknowingly giving other seekers of the diaries their trials. He didn't understand or know the limbo he was trapped in.

Cloak touched the yellow and black one, seeing the badger Realm Walker, who took the name Idler. She, too, sought the diaries, but not for any grand designs or lofty goals -- she just wanted a shortcut. A shortcut to get around any obstacles that would usually take hard work to get around. She wanted to, as she advised Cloak, to take the easy way out. Yes, it was a rather ignoble reason to get the diaries, but, in the end, she couldn't muster up the effort to even pass the first trial, as it was too much hard work for her. This disgusted Cloak.

Cloak then touched the blue and bronze one, and saw the eagle Realm Walker Outlier. As it would turn out, she wasn't that deranged before she sought out the diaries, but as she tried the trials, her mental state destabilized more and more. Until the point where Cloak found her. She didn't really have a clear-cut reason for going after the diaries, but Cloak surmised she hoped to find a cure for her state, despite the fact that diaries only told the future. At least, one possible version of it -- Cloak refused to believe the future was set in stone and immutable.

Then Cloak touched the fiery red and pale gold one, and saw the leonine Realm Walker, who took up the name of Overkill. He desired the diaries so he could use it to find the most powerful adversaries and use them as what amounted to cheat codes in order to beat those adversaries. He had a fragile ego, and thought nothing of strategy, preferring head-on confrontations, so this was the most planning and strategy that he ever really employed. He failed to pass a single trial though, and now was stuck in this kind of limbo.

Then Cloak turned to the other four orbs, knowing that they contained the histories of the other four Walkers that he encountered in the trials. He probably should have moved onward, but his curiosity wouldn't allow it.

Cloak touched the black and gold orb, and saw the draconic Realm Walker, by the name of Raze. He just wanted the diaries to find out more people to kill, to find more victims, and see if he would ever be defeated. He didn't manage to pass a single trial, and was stuck in this eternal limbo, but he was either unaware of this, or just didn't care as long as he could viciously murder people. The guy was a Grade A psychopath.

Cloak touched the brown and tan orb, and saw the bovine Realm Walker, by the name of Forbidden. He just wanted the diaries to know who the "troublemakers", or revolutionaries who would oppose him. He had a fragile ego and an itchy trigger finger, hence why he tended to jump the gun on anything he considered to be mocking or dissent to anything he did or said. He was pretty much your garden variety authoritarian tyrant, and he was secretly terrified of being toppled and losing his power. Ironically, he lost power by seeking out the diaries and never returning, stuck in this limbo, unable to complete all eight trials, although each seeker's trials were completely different from the others.

Cloak touched the blue and white orb, and saw the polar bear Realm Walker, who took the name of Tranquil. He didn't really have a real reason to seek out the diaries, he just did so in order to have something to do. He found himself bored before he sought them out, and so he decided to find them, with a shrug. He got the furtherest, funnily enough, of all the seekers, but failed at the last trial. He was stuck in this limbo . . . but he didn't seem to care all that much.

Cloak touched the final orb, the brown and green orb, and saw the mole Realm Walker, who took the name of Conqueror. He only wanted the diaries to get one over on his enemies. That's the only reason Conqueror even bothered to seek out the diaries. If they didn't hold any tactical advantage to him, then he wouldn't have bothered seeking them out. But now he was stuck in this limbo, completely unaware of it.

The Cloak looked down the long hallway, and knew the diaries lay beyond, in the next room. It was with some trepidation, he moved on. He sensed an old power in the room beyond the hallway . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:
Meeting Destiny

Cloak walked tentatively into the room. He didn't like feeling this way. He only felt this way when he lived (and was fundamentally enslaved, emotionally-speaking) with his mother, Ursa. He didn't like feeling this trepidation. He had been accustomed to feeling strong and in control over himself. He didn't feel that way here. He actually felt quite intimidated. He could feel the ancientness of the room and the figure standing at the far wall, standing in a "T" poise, with her arms bent at a forty-five degree angles, palms held upward.

"Cloak!" she said. Her voice sounded rather like Christine Ebersole, though a bit more chilling. "There you are!"

It was Destiny herself. And Cloak knew with just one look at her that she was, indeed, an ancient Realm Walker. She was so large that he barely cleared her toe in terms of height. Her form was nearly incomprehensible, and he was a Realm Walker. Her form was rather Lovecraftian in design -- and, honestly, that was the best description he could muster from it. She didn't look quite Cthulhu-esque but she was certainly anthropomorphic. She wore a long white dress with gold highlights that reaches the floor and splits on the sides to expose her legs. She also had shoulder pads, and a pair of intricately detailed dress sandals with high heels. She also wears a cape with gold and white stripes that is lined with glimmering sun, moon, and star designs. She radiated ancient power . . . Cloak was even more intimidated.

And this was saying something, considering all the giant foes that he fought in the past. Garrotik . . . Galacticron . . . those Cybertronian puppets . . . those Colossi . . . none of them compared to this. None of them compared to meeting Destiny herself. His paternal ancestor. When she spoke to him, she spoke with no malice, no malevolence. It was a mere declaration, as if she had been expecting him to come for a long time.

"D-Destiny?"

"Ah," she said, with a smile. At least, that's what Cloak thought she was doing. "I haven't heard that nomenclature for quite a time. People of my time just called me Exile. I didn't really care for the name, but you can't control what others think of you, you know."

She spoke in an almost motherly way, but it did seem . . . off. Could have just been because of the size differential or something else.

"I see, I intimidate you," she said, matter-of-fact, in response to the silence that lapsed. "Current Realm Walkers have evolved to a smaller size and smaller forms. I understand, Cloak."

Why did Cloak find it so surreal that this ancient Realm Walker knew his chosen name?

"And I understand why you came," she said, taking control of the conversation. "I'm not mad, young Elements Master. I understand your reasoning, and I knew that you would pass all the trials set before you. And I knew that you would be here and speaking to me."

Cloak said nothing.

"And I know you views on this subject," she said conversationally. "I know you believe that destiny itself is mutable, changeable. I do not dispute it, and I account for it in my diary."

"Diary? Singular?" Cloak asked. His voice sounded small and insignificant.

"Oh, yes," Destiny said. "I'm afraid information got muddled down the line, long before Aniyu's time. There has always just been the one diary."

The book materialized over her right hand, floating as if on a turntable. The cover was white with gold highlighting. Cloak was sure that those were the bichromatic colors of this distant, ancient ancestor. She flicked her hand and it floated to Cloak, and Cloak was astonished how like it was, as it was supposedly composed of infinite pages.

"Now the choice is yours," she said. "You can peek inside, or destroy it as you set out to do."

It was very tempting to peek inside . . . but he came with a defined purpose. But would a peek hurt? Could he possibly . . .


Yes, yes, I'll come clean. This entire scene was loosely inspired by White Diamond's introduction in the Steven Universe episode, "Legs From Here to Homeworld". The set pieces, anyway.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
Got Some Chill

Phoenix had to go and route the newest fiend that decided to be active. Active . . . in the arctic. Phoenix was . . . less than enthused by this, but accepted the mission nonetheless, anyway. The icy terrain seemed rather slippery, and this annoyed Phoenix. It was only through a technique he called "Breath of Fire" that he wasn't too terribly uncomfortable in this obnoxious cold. He decided that it may be prudent to take his time and be careful through here . . . he didn't want to slip up. Literally, in this case.

The ground was uneven, and Phoenix did his best not to slip on it. This was dangerous terrain. It was a bit before he came to a dead end, then he noticed the shattered ice before him. The fiend came this way. Phoenix went into the underground icy cave. He landed on a ice floor, which only seemed about three or four feet thick. But Phoenix saw a hole in this flooring -- the fiend went this way. So he followed, and dove into the hole in the ice floor. He landed on a cold stone floor with clear indication where the fiend went next, and Phoenix dived down into the hole it made in the ice.

He landed another ice floor, and saw another hole in the ice. He quickly dived down it,  Once more, he landed on cold stone, and saw another hole carved into the ice. He followed this hole to the next floor. And he saw two paths to go, one high and the other low. He decided to take the upper path, and he burned and melted away the ice in his way, moving forward.

He continued forward, until he had to climb upward. He came to a tunnel that was a "C"-shaped tunnel that ended with him having to climb higher. He proceeded forward, melting the ice walls blocking his progress. It was fairly straight forward, especially when he realized that the tunnel he was travelling in doubled back on itself. Then he had to climb up to the next level, on his right.

The next level was somewhat straight forward, Phoenix just had to climb upward into the level beyond. The level beyond was outside, and it was snowing. Phoenix had to use his Breath of Fire technique again to make sure he didn't get too uncomfortable in this sheer frigidness of the environment. He proceeded forward, taking his time, avoiding deep chasms, and the like. It wasn't long before he made it to the fiend's nest.

The room had an icy floor and long walls. It also had no ceiling, at least not one that Phoenix could see. Then he saw the fiend drop down from its high position. The crest of the fiend's head only came up to Phoenix's collarbone. It's head was round with a loose dark gray helmet with a black, snowflake hexagon crest on its forehead. It's puffy face was like that of a child, with large human-like eyes with light gray sclera and dark gray irises. Around its shoulders was a black, pentagonal collar which had its head frozen in a shapeless mound of translucent ice. Its upper arms, abdomen, and thighs were snow white, while its right hand, lower arm, buster arm (replacing his left hand and forearm), shins, and pod-like feet were black. Its left wrist was dark gray.

When it saw Phoenix, it decided to begin its attack pattern. It ran and slid around firing his ice spike traps in order to either get Phoenix to run into the spikes or to freeze him, so it can jump on him. It initially only fired one of these ice spike traps at Phoenix, before graduation to two -- one toward the ground near him and one higher toward Phoenix, which hit the wall when he evaded. Then it graduated into firing three of these ice traps, and then it jumps to the top of the room, in the center, and created five ice spikes in a semicircle around it.

Phoenix easily incinerated these spikes, melting them before they even formed. He took out this fiend with ruthless ease using his pyrokinesis, despite the fiend having the environmental advantage. Phoenix turned and returned to forum, the mission objective completed.

***

Demos called it a "chirudosapien". He designed it for arctic observation, and an attempt to stem global warming's effects on the glaciers there. A lofty, ambitious goal, but one that fell short.

***

Malice, meanwhile, was pacing around, desperately trying to come up with schemes, fearful that she might be losing relevancy.