The paper swordsman and the midget mage.

[Shantotto]

The small black mage stepped outside of the kings throne room, she had been asked to work together with the milky silver haired person wearing thin glasses, Shantotto had paid him little heed during the course of the meeting.However in this moment in time she looked the man over, his milky flesh was almost reminiscent of old parchment, even the scent he gave off was similar to the libraries of windhurst. She had only once glimpsed at his face, she had seen a silvery hue to the man's eyes, almost like that given off by the dead, but his manner of dress and the way he carried himself, gave her the impression of him being more of a scholar than a warrior.

Running down the steps at the front of the palage Shantotto managed to finally catch up to the man, it was clear he did not know that she had been tasked to accompany him. The sounds of her boots on the crumbled steps and small fragments of stone caused the man to pause and turn to face the source of the noise.

Serraph looked down at the short creature, her tanned flesh with dark nose. It was following him down the steps, his curiosity sparked by the strange creature. “Good evening to you little one, what brings you to me at this hour of night?” The pale one asked the tarutaru mage.

“I was requested to join you on this quest, I assume it is my prowess the one in gold wishes to test.” She replied as she finished catching up to the former espada. The dim light given off by the moon was only partially enhanced by the dim lighting of the flickering torches as their flames danced in the cold desert breeze. Shadows dancing along the ground, Shantotto looked over the man before her, his clothes, despite the blood and what almost looked like ink still had a small degree of scholarly appeal.

Shantotto took her journal out from her robe and began to scribble away as she looked around her, in the distance plumes of smoke billowed up from fires lit. Even after dark the hospital seemed to shine brightly as light bleed through each window. She carefully drew small glyphs into the pages taking care to make an note regarding the individuals she had seen in the throne room.

Seraph watched as the pint sized mage pulled a small book from her strange attire and a small smile filled his face as the book grew in size to accommodate writing. “Interesting.” He said as he leaned over her to view what she was writing. Even to one so well versed in literacy as he, her scribbles and glyphs remained a mystery. He stopped trying to decipher the meaning instead introducing himself. “I am Serraph, loyal servant to king Gilgamesh.” He said as he nodded his head politely as he recalled was a good way to introduce one's self.

Shantotto didn't look up from her book despite the polite gesture, instead she continued to scribble quietly in the leather bound book. It took her a few more moments to finish and shrink the book back down before she spoke again. “ Good evening to you one who smells of a book. I am Shantotto, and it's high time we leave in this mission we undertook.” She said as she walked past the arrancar. She stopped for a second turning her head slightly to look back at the man. “Come on now hurry we can not delay, it would be foolish to lose more life to wait for the crack of day.” Her footsteps faded quietly as she headed towards the main bounds of the city. Serraph looked on in her direction before quickly taking swift strides to catch up with her.

Her strange manner of speech was a cause for curiosity in the former hollow, never before had he heard of someone or something going so far out of it's way to put words into rhyme in every day speech. For one so well versed in knowledge, such a thing was unheard of. Not even the poets made use of rhyme in everyday life.

Shantotto waddled along, her nose detecting the hints of smoke in the air as she walked through the rundown streets. Even now the smells of human refuse, and despair filled the senses. People sat huddled under thin shreds of cloth trying to shield themselves from the chill of the nighttime air. She couldn't spend much time, but she knew that solving the larger problem would so far more benefit to them than just one or two small acts of kindness. Still that didn't stop the tarutaru from pausing for a few months to pull her orb of omnillium from her pocket. Within moments she had created several backpacks similar to the one she had created when she arrived in the dunes, each with a small tent, blanket, and food and water. As she handed them out to the people she passed she wondered how long it would take to get this city to thrive once more. She paused for a moment, looking behind her finally back at the arrancar. “So what is the nature of our task? I would hate to be lacking information oh one in a paper mask.” She asked, the question clearly directed at Serraph.

[Serraph Quarrere]

Shantotto, a small woman with a sprightly spirit and an energetic twinkle in her eye. She claimed to be sent to assist the Espada in his own endeavor. Therein lies the key word, "Assist", and yet here she was taking the initiative upon her own rather minuscule shoulders.   "Interesting", he'd muse quietly to himself, his light steps following close the little one as she ventured forth into the city. His eyes following the little lady as she gave relief to the poor citizens waiting around near the palace. Some of these were among the group he had led to Nippur earlier. The guards were not doing their jobs. His eyes would catch movement in his upper peripherals causing his eyes to glance up towards the night sky, noticing the lacking of a certain element sprinkled upon the sky's blackened canvas. "What was it... what is it?", he'd mutter, his gloved hand cupping  the edge of the jaw.

What was it? The stellar object that burned furiously in the black of the night, bathing all in its incandescent light? "Stars...", he'd answer quickly, squinting at the thick veil stretching up into the sky. The light of his eye would follow the veil down to its root, a building only a few blocks away. He'd frown and move closer to the little one, bending down to tap her softly upon the shoulder, unaware of the question she had previously "Let the guards handle the civilians. We may have bigger issues to deal with.", he'd suggest before stepping through the small group of civilians, shrugging off the various hands that would grasp upon him. Where there's smoke there's a fire. The civilians could afford to stay cold or hungry for a few hours. A city left to ravaging flames would suffer a great deal more.

The small mage would waddle up behind the Arrancar, keeping up with his quick pace. "Look. A dense smoke rises from that building ahead of us.", he'd say softly,  motioning to the smoldering ruins.

"The destruction upon that building is without parallel. Perhaps a skirmish occurred here, from what I can tell.", the brown nosed one chirped pleasantly, her voice flowing like a musical piece.

Serraph couldn’t help but smile at the little one.

“Don’t get any ideas, my dear”, a familiar voice commanded. The sound itself was comforting, softening the motherly scolding, but the words themselves brought a wave of exhaustion over him.  The Servant of the King turned his head, but nothing was there. No one was there. It surely wasn’t the bite sized one, the one who speaks solely in rhyme. He’d cradle his head, his gloves rubbing away at his eyes. He’d move off the road to  the closest building, catching the eye of Shantotto

“Serraph, why do you halt? Perhaps an ailment is at fault.”

His hand clutched at the bandages wrapped tightly around his wound. The deep gash still bled even after all this time. The rags and tattered clothing used to make the bandaged dripped with thick ink. By the time he finished, his gloves were dyed a pitch black. He dared not turn around to the tiny woman her heard approaching behind. Laying eyes upon such a wound would likely serve a distraction later. Working within a smoldering ruin where fire could easily return to ravish all within its confines would be a grave ordeal should their minds not be in tip top shape. Perhaps he didn’t give the lady enough credit, after all they had just only met.

“I suffered a wound prior to arriving here. The sword of a traitor nearly ended my journey here to Nippur.”, he’d state, channeling his supply of Omnilinium through his arms, concentrating its colorful light within the tips of his fingers. He’d drag his fingers over the wound, their tips sparking with a myriad of colorful sparks. These sparks would collect over his wound and trail around his body, creating a tightly wound bandage. Only when his wound was concealed did he turn, even if the portion of the bandage covering the wound was already darkening from his ink.

It would seem his exhaustion had unlocked another of his traits. When he looked upon the short mage he saw a bit more than what she appeared. She held great power wrapped compactly into that tiny frame of hers. As the silver of his eyes dug ever deeper, he’d recognize the nature of her power, a power not so different from his own. He’d smile weakly and slowly reached for the hilt of his blade.

“Do not be alarm. His other hand would extend to his side, the palm of which outstretched. He’d grasp at the  pale hilt of his rapier and pulled but a small portion from it. Revealing its paper-like construction. “Record, Libro”, he’d mutter, the pale white of the blade brightening. The pale light of the blade would flake away and flow to the area in front of his open palm, coalescing into an object whose  silhouette brought a twinkle to Shanty’s eye. The light would fade and disperse. Shantotto’s Star Rod now resided in Serraph’s grasp.

The bite sized mage would stroke her chin, her eyes scanning over rods appearance. Of course it was a bit bigger than her own. One could even consider it a staff rather than a simple rod. However every other detail remained the same. From the gold trim to the opal sphere that radiated with magic power, it was identical to Shantatto’s tool of magical destruction.

They stood there for what seemed an eternity, but eventually the little one would admit defeat, albeit in her own personal way. She’d recoil and laughter, her  arms  crossing with a black glove of leather raised to perhaps shield those nearby of her menacing laugh.

“Ohohoho! Serraph, how studious you are! Continue to perfect your work and then with me you’ll perhaps be on par!”

Serraph would smile and  bend respectfully at the waist in jest at the response to her applause. He’d rise and chuckle to himself his left hand gripping a hold of the ebony shaft, he’d prop a portion of his weight upon it. Weakened he was but true rest will have to wait for later.

“My apologies m’lady, we may continue. To that crumbling ruin our visit was long overdue.”

[Shantotto]

Shantotto chuckled at the swordsman's rhyme. She had looked over his recreation of her stardust rod and she had found herself impressed, it was a perfect replica of her relic weapon. This Serraph was proving to be an interesting specimen, still he was right, ravaging flames could do far more harm than a cold night ever could. She turned her attention from the copycat Stardust rod and back at the task she had been assigned. Even now the starry night sky was being hazed over by putrid black smoke originating from the orange glow in the distance. Even with her slower than normal gait Shantotto could see how rapidly the pair was closing distance to the source of the smoke.

Much to Shantotto's surprise the plant was nothing more than rubble. the flames the duo had seen were mere pockets of flames that would die out with time. The acrid smoke they had seen was merely the result of scattered embers slowly burning themselves out. a sigh of frustration escaped the small mages lips as her hands went to her sides as she considered the devastation before her.

The smell of cooked meat was predominant as she looked around the smoldering remains of the plant. twisted and jagged fragments of metal pipes were strewn about, some implanted deep into the stonework remains of the building

Shantotto's light brown eyes saw the mangled forms of human bodies strewn about, some still moving, most charred black, flesh cracked exposing the bright red of the flesh underneath.

The frown on Shantotto's face was clear even in the dark of night. Those that were still moving we're moaning out in agony, her eyes glanced downwards at the first of the many. “The nature of this explosion is as plain as day, tell me boy do you have anything left to say?” The mangled charred body coughed violently and went quiet apart from the sound of harried breathing he made no sound.

“Very well, I shall speed you on your journey to heaven or hell.” and with that Shantotto’ eyes glowed ever so slightly as she began to channel her magics, in an instant a pillar of flame erupted up from the mangled body and in a matter of seconds when the pillar subsided only a pile of ash remained.

“Tarry not, for there is much work to do, we probably should get at a start…. by ending the suffering of those that took part.” Truth be told she didn't know if these people had been the cause of the fire but, given the lack of uniform and similar distinguishing characteristics it was a safe assumption, at least in her eyes. There was a pained look in her eyes as she prepared to cremate the barely living bodies. Despite her cast knowledge of medicine she knew that these people were beyond any other form of help than the one she was currently administering.

Serraph had already taken out his long thin sword and brandished it gracefully as he walked to the first of his patients, delivering a swift thrust to the base of the neck of the blackened body, Shantotto knew such a strike effectively severed the spinal cord, ceasing all bodily function, it was efficient and pain free. The arrancar kept quiet for this seeming to not relish in the task.

It was tiring work for the small mage who finished the incineration of the dead bodies, for those that were still alive, the doctor had already assessed that their conditions were not life threatening, or could be treated with a little magic.

Shantotto wished she had a form of communicator to call for transport for the injured to the hospital. Almost as if he was on the same wavelength Seraph had pulled out a small journal and was looking to Shantotto “May I borrow your quill?” He asked quietly, remembering how she had used the feather hidden in the notebook of her own. She pulled out her small journal which automatically grew to full size before the Arrancar’s eyes. She pulled the small feather out from the binding and dipped it into the hidden inkwell before handing it up to the taller swordsman who smelt of paper. He smiled in a telling manner as he examined the simple feather, its dark grey and burgundy coloration was unseen to his eyes before. Taking her quill he slowly wrote into the journal he had produced. “They shall be treated as soon as possible.” Serraph said matter of factly as he handed her the quill back, his eyes displaying a small appreciation for her reverence of the feather.

He paused for a moment as he gazed around the pair, a small crowd of people had formed, drawn by the light and sound of Shantotto’s flashy magic.

“What are they doing?” “Who are they?” “Did they kill those men?” “Why are they killing them, instead of helping them.” the masses began to mumble amongst themselves, casting angry and confused glances at the pair as they moved each body, still moving or at least those that were able to be treated by the advanced hospital facilities in Nippur.

The tarutaru black mage paid no heed to the whispers in the dark, rather continued her task as she pulled her journal out once more and began to sketch the floorplan of the plant, taking care to mark down points where the blast seemed to originate. Showing her quick doodles to the swordsman beside her she began to explain. “If you examine the highlighted parts, I am sure you can determine the location of the explosives hearts.” She said as she waited for Serraph to finish examining her drawing before tucking her sacred journal away.

Serraph was surprised by the reverence she showed the book, His hunger for information and knowledge left him with a lot of the same reverence for the ink words on each sheet of paper. Besides that He noticed she had pinpointed the blast points quite well if not exactly. “Impressive.” He said quietly, noticing the sun was beginning to make its ascent into the sky in the distance.

Serraph withdrew his orb of Omnillium while watching shantotto remove the broken fragments of twisted metal and stone. “Tell me little one do you have any recommendations?” He asked her as she finished clearing the floorspace with a sift gust of wind followed by a violent burst of flame that reduced the majority of damaged things to ash and molten metal.

Shantotto didn't say anything more opting to take a moment to catch her breath, her lungs were pained from having to use the amount of magic she had been forced to use up to this point. Prior to her venture in the omniverse, this usage of her magical talents would have left her no more than slightly winded, but for now she was forced to endure.

With the spreading flames gathering power both Serraph and shantotto knew they couldn't spend any additional time on menial tasks. “Might I take a moment to suggest a new course of action? I can douse the flames with my magic but can you handle the reconstruction without distraction?.” She called out without waiting for a reply as she waddled off towards the closest wall of flame.

[Serraph Quarrere]

 That was the plan of course, but not at the same time. Serraph doubted his own ability to reconstruct the building from this distance. He’d have to get closer to have a ghost of a chance. Even if he could, fire eats paper for breakfast. He’d be reduced to a pile of carbon dust before he’d even have the chance to raise his hand. The mage’s magic was the ideal solution. It was the distance that the spells held that would be the most useful in this situation.  The Arrancar would raise the ebon rod, its sparkling crystal radiating its light as Serraph tapped into it, syncing it with his own power.


Serraph could feel the artifact’s magical essence tingle against his fingertips. It was something both familiar and foreign to him. Spiritual energy was more quantifiable than this magic. It was easier to calculate and easier to study, at least at first glance. This magic seemed sporadic and hard to control, even Serraph’s mind had trouble wrapping his mind around such a power. Until such a thing could be done, he’d have to mix in his own little touch.

Serraph would frown as he extended his spiritual reach within the weapon, the Reiryoku, or spiritual energy within his body, would ebb its way down the ebon shaft, linking with the magical orb at the end. The energy lashed and clawed at the calm and slowly progressing power that sought to harness it but even then, as the tendrils of crimson power wrapped around the glowing orb, it would succumb to Serraph. In the chaotic power resting within he could hear its sweet whispers. These whispers would give him its secrets, the spells that it was familiar with.

“A truly marvelous weapon, M’lady”, Serraph spoke, pointing the radiating orb towards the roaring flames ahead. “I aim to disturb the foundation of that building. I implore you to follow suit.”

“ To collapse the plant is a request I can surely grant. When the flames finally wane, a jet of water will prove to be its bane”.

“Precisely, Mage”, Serraph would say with a smirk A circle of untainted light would burn at the Arrancars feet as the power within channeled into the staff. The orb glowed in a rusty reddened hue. His lips began to part, his lungs bringing forth the word that would activate the spell. But the word never came. Instead a shrieking voice in the crowd would be sent out, settling three horrid words within Serraph’s now uneasy core.

“SLAY THE MURDERERS!!”

The spell was already beginning to burst free from the staff. The bullet had been fired. Serraph couldn’t stop in time nor could the little one. Chunks of rubble were thrown at the pair of primes, most of which would never meet their mark. These people were up until recently starving. Their strength had not returned to them. Serraph serged his essence into the ebon shaft of the staff, rushing the spell’s Execution. The earth beneath a corner would displace, the building crumbling and collapsing into its structural supports. Shantotto would make a bigger impact on the already weakened building but  even then it wasn’t enough.

Once Serraph was free from the spell’s commitment he’d reach down in a hurried fashion, his arms scooping up the tiny Tarutaru. “We have to leave. Its too dangerous here.”, he’d inform the Lady before taking off, his shoes nearly gliding across the sandy road. The crowd charged but their weak and frail bodies couldn’t hope to catch the pair. "Keep quiet", Serraph advised. Shantotto would begin to reply but would be silenced by a gloved hand that moved to press against her lips. "Quiet.", Serraph spoke in a hushed tone. He could nearly feel the little one's frustration, but now wasn't the time for such things. The Arrancar would weave through the  various side roads and alleyways, his eyes scanning about to find a place to rest and wait out that terrible storm. No doubt the fire was still raging, but it wasn't something they could deal with until the angry crowd dispersed.

 "There" he'd mutter, his eyes catching a wooden door seemingly out of place in the narrow alleyway they were fleeing through. He'd wager that most of these outlying homes were abandoned due to the previous raider population. There  was a good chance it would be free for them to acquire for the night. He'd stop outside the door, his shoes kicking up dust as he slid to a stop.  He'd throw his shoulder into the weak wooden door, breaking it free from the wooden latch. Quickly he'd scan the room. Personal effects no longer existed but there was a single table and a bed of cloth and straw that took up most of this particular apartment. Serraph would quickly toss Shantotto onto the bed before turning to break off the remaining pieces.

 Serraph would pause, his ears catching wind of the crowd as it reached further deeper into this area's web of alleys and streets. His hands went immediately to work, the radiant light of his omnilinium flaring into the space the door once stood. Brick by brick a new wall would be hastily made. It didn't need to be perfect. This part of town was already quite ragtag. It need only to deceive the pursuers. He'd bite hard into his lips, a trail of black ink trailing from the corners of his mouth as he concentrated. His body burned the more he rushed the formation of this wall. 

 He could hear their footsteps now as they pounded down the alley.  His mind screamed and his body ached, but by the time the crowd got close, he had already finished. His exhausted body would slump against the brick patching, his silver eyes glancing at the tiny window to see angry faces pass by, frantically searching for Serraph and Shantatto. He'd turn over, his back resting against the wall.

 "The fire is important, but we are no use to the King dead."

[Shantotto]

Shantotto sighed, her face was one of disgust. "The nerve of those fools, the act of villainy we take no part... We mearly ended the suffering of those who could not be saved. Twas but an act of the heart." He words held a hint of sorrow that Serrpah barely picked up on,not due to lack of emotion but rather due to his worry regarding their safety. The sounds of deep breathing filled the newly created sanctuary,that and the sound of her thinking in barely audible words to herself. His own breathing was rapid, having picked up the small doctor who had struggled almost violently against his valiant attempts. Her hands were on her hips as she took a moment to think. It was houmous to see something so small acting as if almost nothing had happened, that or she was so absorbed into her own thoughts she didn't even care. Finally words sprang from her lips as she faced the arrancar and spoke.

"I will thank you now for the service you've lent, But we have a task, the one we've been sent." she said as she waved her stardust rod around her "Quake!" she said as pillars of stone erupted from below the alleyway, destroying the wall Serraph had just erected. His face agape as he watched what he had just done to save them was reduced to rubble in an instant. “What?” was all he could manage before the small Tarutaru was already waddling back into view.

The sounds of crumbling stone drew the mob to a halt who quickly turned around to see the wall turning to dust beneight the churning earth below.

"There they are!" a roar went up from the crowd who quickly stopped and turned back towards the alleyway.

Shantotto took step out back into the main street, stopping the crowd as she stared them down,a glimmer in her eyes was visible to Serraph, who came out and stood behind her, even if a bit nervous.

Her voice sounded full of confidence as she called out to the crowd. “ Now listen here you bumbling fools, we are here to help so let us complete what we need to do, if we don't halt the flames nippur will be through!

“Murderer!” A voice called out as a rock flew through the air at the vertically challenged mage. A papery fist extended out grasping the smooth stone tightly just before it hit her.

“Alas you all can not be made to see reason, such is the flaw in mob cohesion.” She said as she drew her stardust rod once again from behind her back, pointing it at the mob. “Quake” the spell erupted from the ground separating them from the mobas the earth churned below a stone pillar. “Enough of this you barbarians must know to stop this ruse, to tussle with us will will shorten my fuse.” She warned them, taking the paper swordsman's hand and waddling back towards the irrigation plant.

“ I will thank you again when the timing is right, for now we must keep moving to avoid a pointless fight” her words had an almost cheery sing-songyness to them.

The distance between them and the mob grew as they got closer and closer to the plant, the flames from the resulting explosions had already begun to consume more buildings, wooden frames and collapsed stone were all that remained in the wake of the flames.

Shantotto stopped as she looked at a building still getting ravaged by the flames. Her rod, still in hand pointed at the flames “flood” she muttered as water materialized out of the tip of her rod, blasting out like a water cannon, the torrent of water washed over the fires depriving them of the air it needed and reducing the embers to nothing but charcoal.

Serraph stood back as she worked, his eyes were a noticeably different color than they had been, a more gentle look filled them. He looked behind them every few moments hoping the angry mob would give up and let them work. “This is quite the mess we’ve molded, M’lady.” His voice almost sounded disinterested at having to clean up this mess, not to mention the slight possibility of death that had come up out of the little mages act of mercy.

Beside him, the little mage acted seemingly without a care in the world, almost as if she was used to these kinds of situations, She was a confident creature, the likes of which He had yet to fully understand, he wan enjoying eating up all of the information she was offering him, even if she didn't realize it.

[Serraph Quarrere]

Shantotto’s determination to the task at hand was admirable, amazing even. The night seemed to be nearly at its end and yet this little lady has shown not one indicator of fatigue. On the other hand, the Arrancar was suffering heavily from it. His muscles ached and screamed, his head throbbed and burned from within, and his wound grew numb. The gravity of his exhaustion had began to take hold. Although Shantotto’s presence was reassuring, he couldn’t help but feel separated from the situation, as if he were far away just looking on warily the events that unfolded before him. His eyes of silver flickered, training its vision upon Shantotto’s water spell.

He lagged behind his arm raising the staff aiming it towards the base of the flames, but no spell came forth. He was being held back. By what he couldn’t say. He’d feel a pleasant warmth wash over him as slender phantom arms wrapped beneath his arms and over his wound. He’d feel a presence press behind him, but when his eyes turned to glance behind nothing was there, and yet he could feel this presence and its hot breath wash over the papery flesh of his neck. Something soft would brush over the edge of his ear, freezing the small Arrancar in his tracks.

Serraph’s eyes narrowed at the invisible presence, his hand tightening around the darkened shaft of his rod.

“Rest, my Serraphim~”, a voice whispered directly into his ear, the pleasant sound ringing softly into his mind. The familiar voice forced his body to relax, his arms falling to his side. His body would slouch down and stumble forward, his arm outreaching to plant his staff into the dusty road beneath him. The Arrancar’s form leaned its weight against the ebon staff, his head rising to level with the flaming buildings before him. Shantotto had already dealt with one of the buildings, her torrent of raging water washing over its burning construction.

The light of the Arrancar’s eyes faded out, a deep green glow replacing its predecessor. His rigid, papery hair seemed to soften and flow much more easily against the wind. The color itself would shift from a pale, aged white to a silky silver stricken with messy streaks of blood red locks. Upon his head a tiara of bloodstained bone, adorned with ten jagged spikes. Serraph would let the staff rest upon the neighboring wall, his hand moving for his blade. Pulling it from its pale sheath one could notice the lacking stains from his skirmishes a day prior. Gone were the blood that had dried and cached over the rapier’s edge. Gone was the ink that had once drenched its velvet grip.

 Something was different about him, not just the slight physical changes, but the way he carried himself. As he walked forward  his walk was that of a predator, his steps light as if he were approaching his prey. His hand would raise, leveling with the burning buildings. The verdant glow of his eye peered through the valleys of his outstretched fingers as a crimson mist coalesced around his form. The blood red mist stuck to his body, swarming over him to concentrate into the palm of his hand. A crimson orb of sporadic spiritual energy grew from his palm with sparks of crimson static rolling over his outstretched digits.

Wordlessly he’d let the power grow and grow, the light of which illuminating the Tarutaru ahead of him. The small lady would pause, the light from her staff halting as she looked behind her. She’d dive into the dust, the burst of crimson energy bursting forth only moments later. The beam of energy would surge towards the next building, the jagged beam of scarlet light slamming into its foundation. The impact shattered the foundation, hindering its ability to hold the delicate balance the burning building relied upon.


Stone walls would shatter without the presence of its support, and the whole building began to tumble down into the ground, smothering most of the flames that plagued it. As tired as the Arrancar felt, the presence that had overcame him couldn’t help but feel a wave of euphoria ebbing throughout his body after witnessing such... art. The manner in which the wall crumbled apart, unable to sustain itself, the way the cloud of dust and ash flowed from the site, and the way the embers fluttered upwards into the night just made his body feel just right.


He didn't realize how strange he was acting or that he was behaving any differently than normal. The pleasure of watching something crumple lifeless to the ground always seemed to be there, even if he hadn't expressed this desire before. His body would begin to glow yet again, the familiar orb of blood red light centering over his navel. He'd smile manically, his eye shifting toward the plant in the distance, his body shifting to aim the Cero at its burning corpse of a structure. Once again he'd fire, the jagged beam of light hitting just right to cause it to lose its remaining support. The metal stairs and frames would scream as the weight of its concrete structure stressed the steel to tipping point, the building slowly crumpling in on itself. The remaining steel supports screamed and squealed as they bent and ground against each other until they finally, and quite audibly, snapped, sending the entire structure plummeting to the ground. The wave of dust rolled just to the pair's feet, a plume of dust and embers carried off into the distant by the gentle breeze. Serraph's free hand would cover his lips, suppressing a soft giggle that built in his throat.

The beautiful embers were like stars in the night, the wind itself carrying them all into the heavens. It was a beautiful sight to behold.  For the first time in forever, he could feel his cheeks warm with delight, but only for a brief moment as his overwhelming exhaustion came down upon him again. The verdant glow would return to silver, and the blooded strands of hair would fall away, his hair regaining its papery texture. His tiara remained, but would topple as the Espada fell to his knee, his rapier embedded into the dust to keep him from completely collapsing. He hadn't any words. His mind was yet still asleep.

It was as much asleep as the voice commanded of him.

[Shantotto]

Shantotto gathered her thoughts as she sat in the dust of the street, standing quickly and brushing the dust from her black robes she gave Serraph a look that seemed like she was going to unleash a barrage of spells upon him. Instead she waited for what seemed an hour as she calmed herself to the point of being able to once again speak.

“Curious….” she mused aloud looking at the arrancar who had fallen asleep. She had been oblivious to his fatigue, never minding the dried link upon the man.

“It would seem that in times of extreme duress… your glasses shift form into a crimson headdress.” she said turning her attention fully to the unconscious swordsman.

The sounds of the mob gathered around as they closed in on the source of the water and angry red death beam. Shouts and the orange glow of makeshift torches filled the gaps between buildings as they approached.

Elsewhere a loud explosion rocked the ground, a large chunk of wall crumbled under the blast, the dust given off by the explosion billowed into the air darkening the morning sky, the roar of engines powered by primitive engines. Whatever was going on in the distance was chaotic to be sure, however the pair needed to finished the take at hand. “Though in his current state we are not much of a pair, as such my margin of error is slimmer than a hair.” She said with a grim determination.

Her stardust rod danced around in her hand, its crystalline focus forming a small circle in the air. A few seconds later three bolts of deadly lightning crashed to the ground, blasting a crater into the street, glassing the sand. An angry glare filled the tiny mage who had grown tired of the game of cat and mouse with this mess of a bloodthirsty mob. Serraph stirred in his fatigue induced slumber but his eyes did not open. Stone fragments were strewn across the street from the impact of multiple lightning bolts. Small beads of sweat dripped down the tarutaru’s brow.

Using her magic to amplify her voice, the words carried out over the area. “You barbarians must cease this hunt, lest you experience my formidable front. For if you do not stop pursuit of our lives you will force my hand to unleash hell, and doing so means I bombard you with spell after spell.” The brown nosed mage spoke with authority her goal to protect the slumbering swordsman. The mob began to murmur amongst themselves, some emboldened by the small mages threat.

One man in particular seemed to rally those in the crowd. Normally Shantotto was not one to judge a person on looks, but the man seemed to have a very off-putting nefarious aura, the kind that could cause a bloodbath for the sole purpose of watching chaos unfold.

The man urged the people along with him spurring them on, inciting the flames of anger, those who still wished for a fight pushed forward through those that did not, the man stayed in the back, even though she was beginning to feel the fatigue of battle Shantotto pushed herself bringing her rod forward aimed right at the man’s face. “Flood” she said calmly, as another torrent of water materialized and blasted towards the man.Those in the mob who had began to disperse moved quickly leaving the man to his fate as the blast of water smashed into his chest with a resounding crash. Knocked from his feet he fell into the new formed mud.

“Rather than let this fool lead you all down this fruitless course, I feel it is my duty to eliminate him as a source.” She said just loud enough for him to hear her.

“Wait, wait you cant kill me!” The man said as he struggled to his feet. “We have bombs! In the city!” He yelled out of desperation.

Shantotto paused as she considered his words, the blast near the walls did seem to coincide with his story, however it was also possible that he was just using the blast as a cover for whatever ill natured scheme he had concocted.

Considering the potential cost of life vs the harm that could come from this man Shantotto made a decision. “Good day I say.” she said as she cast Burst once again. Triple lighting bolts screamed down from above drawn to the man who had been drenched in her magical waters. “Yahhhhggggggg” was all that could be heard as the man screamed, the electrical currents reducing him to nothing more than a burnt lifeless husk.

“Bombs?” the word spread through the mob like the fires that had threatened their homes. Panic spread along with the words as people began to run from the man as if he was the bomb itself.

Shantotto’s brown eyes gazed at the man remorselessly, her anger flaring up to the limits of her willingness to keep up this peaceful stand.

Behind her Serraph stirred once more, seemingly oblivious to eat had just transpired. With the fires of nippur under control, she could take a moment to catch her breath. The threat of bombs was a whole new wildfire all the same.

Taking her journal out from her robe she quickly dipped her quill and began to write on the page she had dedicated to Serraph. “Subject makes the second split personality I've seen, this one has a tendency to get quite mean.” The words of course we're written in glyphs only she could decode. Making sure to note that Serraph physical body had taken on a lifelike female form, even his...her… it's mannerisms replicated those of a female.

“Curious.” she pondered as she finally sat down into the dusty street to rest.

[The Emperor of Mankind]

The Emperor wandered around aimlessly for a bit, attempting to find anyone who could lead him him to the irrigation plants, assuming that he was as ‘fountain fresh’ as Gilgamesh said he was because who really knew with what was happening to the real Throne Emperor when a blast from… around north caught his attention. He slowly made his way over there, passing through a rapidly dispersing crowd he found two smaller than average humans, with the smaller most likely being an abhuman standing still with a few litres of water surrounding them. He ‘eyed’ them suspiciously, one was very small and had nearly human features while the other was…
No.

The small one began to open her mouth when the Emperor interrupted her.

“Well, would you look at this? A criminal lawsuit and a open square brackets redacted close square brackets. Anyway, I was sent here to look at the water pumps and either you are them, know where they are or are going to them right now so let’s go I guess.”

The Emperor slowly took off before rounding back in a circle to get behind them.

“But one of you two should probably lead.”

[Serraph Quarrere]

The Arrancar’s eyes would drift open, his now dull grey eyes drifting about the room in which he lay. The atmosphere was heavy in the musk of aged parchment and the air carried the sole sound of turning pages throughout the expansive hall. He would lay in a single isle that separated rows upon rows of bookcases that lined the space he lay. His body would stir, his hands pushing against the rough wooden floor. As he arose from his prone position, he’d gain a better view of the open space ahead of him, a small clearing in the forest of bookcases and heaps of lore. A singular table was set up with two quite uncomfortable appearing chairs adjacent to the table. A woman sat at the table, her slender hands flipping through a quite small codex.

The boy felt younger than he’d remember. Everything seemed so massive in comparison to him. The books were utterly gargantuan compared to himself, yet he couldn’t make out much more than what he did. The vast library had obtained quite a bit a dust due to its lack of use. The Espada would brush the dust from his glasses, his eyes squinting towards the figure sitting there. His foot would make the first step towards her, the ancient wood beneath his feet crying out from the weight subjected against it. Each step would result in a similar noise, the strained squeaking planks alarming not the woman sitting alone in this vault of endless texts. The boy would set himself down upon the opposite chair,  his eyes scanning over the person opposite him.

“You’ve never had good stamina, My Seraphim~”, the figure greeted, her eyes glancing up at the Arrancar. Serraph would sit back in his chair, his gloved hands folding on the table before him. The woman’s appearance was quite familiar from her long blood red hair and her soft emerald eyes. Her build was similar to his, but that was to be a given, considering what he believed this place to be.

“This is a dream… have we m--”, he’d begin, before immediately being cut off buy the other.

“Met? You know that does sadden me, but I can’t blame you.”, she’d sigh before sliding the slim book over to Serraph. His hand would catch the velvet bound text, his brow rising slightly.

“It’s warm… what is this?”, he’d ask, opening the cover. To his surprise many of the pages were unable to understand completely. Many pages were torn and cut asunder. Serraph would bite down hard upon his lip, the minuscule twang of pain helping him ignore the tightness growing in his chest. Books were to be read and preserved, not butchered and left to rot. It was a sad sight to see.

“That, is your memory of me.”, she’d reveal, her hand slipping beneath the open cover, her warm grasp pressing softly against his own to close the small novella. “Your predecessor betrayed me after seeing an opportunity to serve as an Espada. Tier Harribel didn’t order or encourage him I assure you.”, she’d mutter her hand lifting up to rest upon the boy’s head. Her fingers tangled themselves into his rigid do.  His eyes glanced up at her, meeting with kind glow of her own. “You know of but one of your former’s betrayal.”

Serraph wasn’t surprised. His predecessor was a peculiar one. He wanted to live, yet he wanted to forget everything. To him salvation was to simply exist. No emotion nor memory had a place in his future. His mere existence automatically put himself at odds with Serraph. He had to go. There was nothing else at the time that needed to be done.

“Don’t forget your life before, but don’t be stuck there. If you do, you’ll live in misery.”

“Mmhm”, Serraph would nod, still not quite clear upon the identity of the one who held Serraph in such a… close regard. She was familiar and what she had said was not entirely out of the question. In fact it seemed quite plausible. The former Octava Espada’s blade was known to make others forget various bits of information. Perhaps he had stricken Serraph when he wasn’t aware. The mere thought caused his jaw to tighten.

The woman would notice and release a loud and hearty laugh, her frame draping itself lazily over the back of her chair. Her hand would remove itself from Serraph’s hair. The hand would ball itself into a tight fist in which she’d bring down upon the table, the old wood cracking at the point of impact.

“Now shoo, my Serraphim, leave me to catch up on my reading time. Someone has to enjoy all of the knowledge you’ve collected, ya know?”, she’d chuckle, her hand waving him along.  His form would begin to fade, his vision darkening as he did. Before he could completely vanish, She'd wink at him mischievously. "Keep your head down. There are two of us in here, you know?"

 She'd wait until his form had vanished before relaxing her tensed hand, her fist flatting out over the rough wood. She look up into the ceiling, a wide grin growing through out her face. Her bare, smooth legs would kick themselves up to rest upon Serraph's table, with one leg hanging over the other. "I need to get my Serraphim laid. He spends too much time with his head in books when they could be between some cute redhead's breasts. There's no doubt his service to Gilgamesh will add to the boy's cute factor. The women will be clawing over each other to get a piece of him", She'd laugh aloud, her head turning towards the faded picture of the Espada that hung upon the wall beside her. His face back then always seemed disinterested and his eyes so dull and distant. 

 "This place is good for you, kid. Be merry. Be happy. Serve your king! Show them all what its like to be an Arrancar!", the crimson haired woman would cry out before bringing her hand to her lips, her teeth capturing her index finger.

 "Because at the end of the day, you'll be crawling right back to me~"

[Shantotto]

Shantotto stopped, a strange skeletal man sitting upon a floating throne. a strange form of voice emanated from it. Her features showed genuine confusion at the prospect of a corpse in a chair issuing orders to her. "The nerve! in the current state of things what does rushing around serve?" She placed her hands on her hips at the strange thing that had show up. A solitary red "eye", covered where an eyesicket should be, it was peculier even to the old tarutaru who up until this moment had thought she had seen everything. Skeletons and those similar to them were normal for pretty much anyone who had been to Vana'diel, but what kind of lunatic sat upon a throne made of skulls that floated? It was a truly perplexing sight.

Ignoring an incoming mechanized jab at her height Shantotto turned her attention towards the unconscious arrancar.

Serraph was still sleeping, his chest rising and lowering with each labored breath his wounds clearly visible to the small woman, inky blood dried to his paperlike flesh. Scars from battles long past, carved into his body visible through the tattered remains of his clothes.

Withdrawing her orb of omnillium she focused her thoughts on the downed swordsman.

"I have said we must be on our way."

The synthesized mechanical voice disrupted her thoughts forcing her to look back at the Skeleton in the chair..

"It would be wise to still your speech lest I remove you from your chair and place it out of your reach." She turned only her face towards the skeletal figure as she snapped back at it. She stared for several seconds before shaking her head and turning back to face Serraph.

Once again thinking about what she wanted, to try to heal the paper swordsman. She had not tried to use her omnillium for this kind of task before, but the orb bended to her will did it not? This would be a good test to see if it was possible for her, a black mage. To learn the arts of healing something seemingly exclusive to white mages.

Touching her free hand to the swordsman's wounds she felt something similar to the richest of papers. The texture was intoxicating, warmth radiated from the orb of milky light in her hand as it bent and shaped according to her will

The unmistakable scent of aged and worn parchment and fine ink filled the mage's sensitive nose. “I see” she muttered as she let her orb do its job.

Slowly the man's body seemed to mend itself, little by little the paper filaments seemed to stitch themselves back together, the process was slower than any magic cast by a white mage to be sure, but the effect itself was nothing short of remarkable to the older mage. Her wonderment was interrupted once again by loud synthetic words coming from the thing behind her.

“Hurry up before I die of old age.”

Shantotto ignored the robotic comments coming from behind her as the skeletal figure used its massive throne to bump into her knocking her off balance on top of the downed swordsman.

Anger crossed the petite mage's face as she debated wholeheartedly incinerating the bumbling corpse right then and there, however her actions were stayed by the opening of her companions eyes. Shantotto quickly stood up straightening herself and dusting off the dirt from her robes.

"It would appear that the time of your slumber has come to a close, but I think we she get moving to avoid dealing with those." Shantotto said as she gazed ahead at the oddly dressed guards who seemed to be rounding up the members of the mob, glowing weapons seemed new compared to the somewhat primitive spears and swords she had seen them armed with when she had arrived in the city. It was clear there was a great deal that had happened in a short time since she had arrived.

The sounds of combat filled the air in the distance as whatever was happening around the epicenter of the earlier explosion seemed to have spread out over a wider area.

Whoever or whatever had started it was going to have to deal with these clearly newly equipped guards. Shantotto did not want to be in their shoes when that happened.

"What happened here?" A tall guardsman asked as he approached The mage, the paper swordsman and the skeleton in a chair.

Shantotto stood up from beside Serraph, helping the swordsman back to his feet, at least the best that someone of her small size could.

"If you would be so inclined so as to let me speak, My compatriot and I were simply helping the weak." She spoke with confidence and fire in her voice. The guard looked at her, then at Serraph who was still not steady on his feet, and then to the large chair behind them levitating off the ground and laughed. A deep hearty laughter.

“Right” was all the man said as he turned and went with his comrades to finish rounding up the troublemaking mob. Shantotto finally used this moment to turn her attention back to the rude barely living corpse. "Good day I say." she said sarcastically to the nearly motionless one handed thing.

"beep beep." The strange thing said seemingly toying with the small woman.

"Hmph!" She replied in kind turning away from the throne.

Serraph still struggled to stand as he looked over his freshly healed wounds. "You?" Was all he asked, directing his question to Shantotto.

"If it was up to me, Id recomendy not letting your body get to the point it used to be.” the mage hinted at the fact she had done what she could to heal his wounds.

Serraph tested his joints, still stiff from his exhaustion induced nap. "How long was I out for?" He asked the robed woman.

“Ask not how long has it been and focus more on what must not be forgotten.” The mini mage replied as she turned her attention back to the Skeletal figure.

“Now if you prove to not be so rude.I might be willing to remedy my attitude.” She said “My name is Doctor Shantotto I am of the job Black Mage, It would be wise, skeletal figure to avoid my rage.” She said, her sing songy voice hid a hint of frustration.

“You may address me as the Emperor of Mankind.” The deeply synthesized voice replied. He however did not offer any words in addition to those.

There was an awkward pause for a moment before Serraph chimed in, “She’s right” He started before looking at the mage who was almost immediately off put by the gaze. “You have my thanks little mage.” The swordsman offered a bow of his head in recognition to the vertically challenged mage. Taken aback by the kindness the mage had shown, he gazed beyond the guardsmen and to the ruined building, metal, melted and cooled formed bulbous tendrils that jutted between stone and burnt wood. A questioning look was directed to the mage that stood before him.

“Well now that this is all well handled and all, We should hurry to our next destination before it’s nightfall.” She said quickly changing the subject, well aware of the fact it was still not long after sun up. Seemingly knowing the questioning look that had fallen upon the swordsman's face.

Shantotto waddled quickly, passing by the commoners on the streets and the guardsmen questioning them.worn and scarred faces peered back at the woman, some with questioning looks, others throwing hateful glares.

The city was not in the highest of spirits, those who had witnessed the explosion and the resulting inferno. Shantotto was tired, so very tired, but if she displayed weakness, in a place like this, the very people whom she was trying to save and protect might very well turn on her just to get a scrap. Nippur was in shambles, the return of the king had brought forth its own array of problems. Problems the brown nosed mage could do little to fix by herself. Regardless however the people still needed her, needed them. Shantotto’s weary brown eyes looked out over the smoking remains of the water irrigation plant once more.