The Greyman Saga

Author's Note: New chapter! Thank you as usual to all readers and thank you for your patience. My focus has been on finsing the final draft for my first (trad. published) book so ive been finding it hard to find time for TGS. Even so, I thank you for reading and supporting.

P.S. I greatly appreciate feedback of all kinds, but i much prefer constructive responses rather than open ended complaints. Thank you all!!

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((Skip Term Index Unless Needed!!))

Term Index

Maiir: A group of priests responsible for protecting the phenomena known as Vermyr. They were largely found and based in the city of Selarris.

Ba'rau Breach: a massive space time tear that had connected the world of the Dreads to earth, or Reora as they call it.

Kaidis: The Lord of the Zephyrs.

Illeya'ithelayis: A mysterious individual that seems to have garnered deep seated animosity from the Lords of Caryanor.

Monjii: A small dread fond of imitating jewelry in order to ensnare their prey. They have been utilized in rare instances as a way to hide from dreads. This is done by sealing them in their dormant forms, rendering them harmless but still alive.

Melidyl('Silbaeon): The Twilight Melody is an abyssal blade that is capable of harvesting Ennem from dreads. It is currently wielded by Joran Wen.

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Chapter 12: The Storm's Respite and the Calm's Consequences.

"Please, Lady Lavorr, you cannot stay here!"

Miramae grit her teeth, ignoring the priest's endless screaming as she twisted in another circle. Her eyes darted around the smoke filled space, frantically searching for the Dreads that had accompanied her moments before. There was no sight of them. They had vanished, leaving her alone in the burning remnants of the Selarris Library with only the wailing Maiir Umbria to accompany her.

"Lady Lav--"

"SHUT UP WOMAN." Miramae yelled, unable to contain herself.

The shaking priest went silent momentarily and the perpetual crackle of burning wood became clear with the fading of the woman's capitulations. Smog gathered along the high ceilings and heat poured off the mass of burning books with immeasurable ferocity. It was exactly as she remembered it. Eerily so.

Every detail felt as if it had been ripped from her memory, creating a sense of uncanny accuracy that sent shivers up her arms. The only difference was Maiir Umbria and her whimpering. If it hadn't been for the brief appearance of the Zepyhr she might've believed...

She blinked, feeling the thought that had just tickled her mind slip away.

"If it hadnt been for..." She whispered, attempting to reclaim the elusive sentiment.

What had made her so certain this wasn't real? Miramae felt her body shift, as if matching the disorientation of her mind. She leaned precariously, nearly toppling over.

"Whoa. Steady there. I've got you." Umbria's voice was gentle in her ear as the priest wrapped her arms around her.

Miramae nodded gratefully, feeling her knees weaken as the Maiir slowly lowered her to the floor. She felt her knees graze against the cement and she glanced down, startled by the cold against her skin.

"Are you alright Lady Lavorr?" Umbria asked worriedly, and Miramae looked up towards her, noting the fearful expression in the older woman's eyes.

"I'm fine." Miramae said in a daze, looking back towards the floor.

The wood was warm against her skin, if not bordering on hot. Warm. Not cold. Specks of drifting embers glistened against the dark boards, promising the further spread of the already tumultuous inferno.

"My Lady, if we remain here, we shall die--Dreads or not. This fire cannot be quenched."

Miramae nodded again hazily, her balance still feeling jolted. She felt as if she was on a massive scale, but every time she assumed she would drop or rise, the inverse happened. It was like her perception had been turned on its head, and her sense of direction completely rearranged. What's more, her shoulder still burned with an uncomfortable cold from where the Zephyr had managed to impale her.

"There's a passage downward not far from here. We can flee through there. I--I fear Selarris is finished." Umbria straightened, wiping her face free of the compounding sweat brought on by the heat.

"Yes. Of course." Miramae agreed, gingerly bracing herself on her left arm before pausing with a frown.

"My arm..." She muttered in confusion, shifting her wait to her other palm instinctively as she slowly rose to her feet.

Umbria gave her a curious glance.

"Are you injured, Lady Lavorr?"

Miramae shook her head, rolling her shoulder.

"No, but I could've sworn--" She let her words drift, shaking her head as she turned her attention back towards Umbria.

"Lead the way, Maiir."

The priest nodded happily, obviously relieved, and grabbed her hand. She moved quickly, steering them towards a section of bookshelves that had managed to avoid catching fire.

"Just through here!" The older woman said eagerly, breaking into an awkward jog as she pulled Miramae along.

The Vermyr followed, her eyes focused on the white door they were steadily approaching. Her eyes flickered downward, settling on the cold hand that was holding her own. It wasn't right. The Maiir shouldn't--couldn't hold...

Her eyes lifted agin, drawn back to the waiting doorframe. It seemed to glow, beckoning them inward and to safety. Umbria didn't hesitate as she reached it, grabbing the handle anxiously with her free fingers. She wrenched it open, stepping back with teary eyes as she motioned for Miramae to pass through. However, something held the Vermyr back.

"It's just ahead. The Ba'rau is nigh! Go, m'lady!" Umbria begged, her voice desperate as she pleaded for her ward to flee.

Miramae nodded, but she remained unable to move. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

"It's wrong." Miramae whispered the words, her eyes wide as she stared as the dark void that lay beyond the door.

"It's all wrong."

Behind her, a crash rung through the building and a flare of heat scorched around her. She didn't need to look to know that a section of the Grand Library's roof had fallen. They were out of time. Soon, the entire compound would crumble and they would be buried beneath a pile of smoldering debris.

"Miramae, PLEASE!" Umbria screamed, pulling at her wrist as she attempted drag her through the door.

"I--I'm going!" Miramae's voice was a dry rasp of incertitude, but she could feel her hesitation fading away bit by bit as the heat grew behind her. If she didn't go now, everything the Maiir had worked for would end. All the Selarrin lives lost would be for not. She needed to live.

Slowly, as if restrained by some unseen weight, she lifted her foot forward. The void that lay beyond the door evaporated, showcasing a plain but emberless hallway. A way of escape. She felt her foot pass through the doorframe, and a tremor of relief spread through her.

What had she been so afraid of?

She looked towards Umbria, giving the woman as smile as she felt her body lighten. However, the Maiir was no where to be seen.

"Maiir Umbria?" Miramae said softly, turning to look behind her.

There was no one there. She was alone. Alone, and in the dark. Grey walls loomed around her, towering and lifeless as they promised isolation. The heat that had bled from every direction only moments before was gone, replaced by only a cold, grey, void.

"What is--this?" Miramae's words were broken by a deep yawn, and she let herself fall to the floor.

It was frigid and uncomfortable, but it didn't matter. She felt like she could sleep for days. It took far too much energy to panic. To worry. She was more tired than she'd ever been in her entire life.

"Just a...small nap." She muttered, feeling her eyelids close as she pressed her cheek to the floor.

Sleep. How lovely it would be to sleep without prying eyes. Without worry of who might be waiting in the dark. To rest with honest, unadulterated, peace. It was nearly enough to send her deep into the abyss without hesitation. If it weren't for the lovely smell tickling her nose, perhaps she might. Perhaps.

She inhaled deeply, a small smile spilling across her lips. Her nostrils twitched, eagerly attempting to inhale more of the wonderful, familiar, aroma. It was as lovely as it had been just a few days prior. Like the potent drifting of seawater, or the smell of a warm cloth pressed to one's nose. Like seasonings and spice, or the wafting tang of sweat. In nearly every way, it was intoxicating. Tantalizing. Her eyelids fluttered curiously.

A pulse of energy crept through her as her eyes opened, intermingling with the soothing scent in a way that was far from pleasant. It was bitter and corrosive, attempting to eat away that warm feeling that had just begun to fill her. The grotesque sensation was familiar as well, though it felt harsher than it had when she had first encountered it. She could feel her stomach churning in response.

"--the damned gylga?"

Miramae felt her brow furrow, the sound of a distant voice echoing from behind her. It was oddly familiar, but in the worst of ways. A voice that carried an erosive, grating, nature. It reminded her of a chair being scraped across the ground.

Another wave of naseau passed through her, accompanied by an even stronger blast of heavenly desire. Despite the discomfort, she felt saliva begin to build on her tongue and her breathing grew heavy.

Around her, tufts of snow and ice began to appear, followed by the coarse sting of frigid wind on her exposed skin. The walls that had loomed only moments before began to shrink, giving way to a pale sky. She sucked in a deep mouthful of the air, savoring the taste of scent that was still drifting towards her. It was nearly as wonderful as the taste of HIS skin had been.

Miramae gasped, feeling her body shift upward suddenly as the world righted itself. She coughed loudly, the searing pain in her shoulder returning as if it had never left. A flood of memories rushed into her conscious and she grasped her head in pain as her surroundings were forced back into reality.

"How they hell are they here Tath? HOW?" The terrible voice whimpered from her right, laced with something akin to disbelief.

"I don't know Gilaed! What do I fucking look like--a goddamned seer?"

Miramae felt her lips curl into a grimace and she turned her blurry vision towards the Dread to her left. The short Zephyr was staring intensely towards the opposite end of the lot, his frosted eyes twitching.

She was back in the realm of reality. Whatever strange illusion that had gripped had been released, or at least abated. Even so, her Ennem felt diluted--like a heavy energy had coated itself around it in order to keep her lethargic.

"What about the Vermyr? Is she going to be a problem?" The Zephyr seemed almost anxious as he asked the question, but he was little more than blur to her foggy eyes.

"I don't know! She should be out of it for a bit, but she's pushed most of my Ennem out of her mind. It--that shouldn't be possible!"

"WHO CARES! Just don't let her help. I'll handle the Knight."

The shift of boot on stone played in her ear as Zephyr stooped low in his stance, his Ennem funneling into his as arm as a thin blade of ice began to form in his waiting fingers.

Miramae rocked awkwardly, turning her attention towards where the frosty Dread was staring. Her head felt like it had been crushed between a pair of massive boulders.

**Knight? Who the hell were they talking about?**

She groaned, trying to focus her vision on a dark figure that stood across from them amidst the brunt of dancing snow. An oddly calming, though certainly foreboding, silhouette that was slowly approaching in the shifting snow.

"You're going to fight Illeya'ithelayis? Get a fucking grip--We need to run!" The harsh voice of the Dread to her right rung through her skull, adding to the already furious headache.

"I won't return to the Kaidis empty handed, not without a fight. The gylga is mine." The Zephyr's voice was cold and unsympathetic in response to his frantic comrade.

**Illeya'Ithelayis?**

Miramae's frown deepened, turning back towards the figure waiting patiently in the distance. They were adorned in a dark helm--one that allowed no clue as to what lay beneath,--but it hardly mattered. The short blade that extended from the figure's hand was undoubtedly the same one she had seen but a few days prior. She could feel its horrible energy from here. More importantly, there was no mistaking the overwhelming scent drifting from him.

"Finally." She whispered, smiling weakly at the man's familiar frame.

"I'm finishing this. If you run off with the siphon, I'll rip you in two and feed you to a Lumyr." The Zephyr spoke the threat quietly, his tone heavy with distrust.

There was a long pause before the second Dread responded.

"Fine. I'll wait for now, but I won't save you again."

"Coward."

A flutter of wind rocked Miramae off balance, and she nearly missed the passing blur of frost as the Zephyr shot across the pavement, shards of the ice peeling away from his body as he rushed to attack.

Her breath caught in her chest and she yanked herself upright. Her eyes searched the swirling blizzard that had been created in the Dread's wake, looking for any sign of the swordsman or the Zephyr. A moment later a howl pierced the air, and a rush of black slid free of the storm, pausing only a few feet from her. Miramae let out a sigh of relief, but it was quickly disrupted by the intense convulsions that gripped her. She eyed the black blade with discomfort, before turning her eyes upward.

They Greyman's face was still hidden behind the dull black helm, but she felt certain he was looking at her. Her eyes dropped to his chest, noting the absence of the Monjii that typically hung there. She tried to move forward, but her body was sluggish and unresponsive. Despite escaping whatever illusion she had been trapped in, her body was still not her own. She growled angrily, desperately willing her limbs to life.

"It's alright, Miramae."

She looked up in surprise, jarred by the distortion of the Greyman's voice as he turned away from her. It was largely the same, but it had a bassy, metallic, ring to it as it fought to escape his helm. She tried to bob her head, but only succeeded in giving a small dip of her brow.

"ILLEYAAAA!"

From the surrounding flurry the Zephyr's voice rang out, his partially amorphous figure bursting from the hail as he aimed for his prey. Snow and debris flung towards the Greyman, but it seemed to evaporate before it could reach his body. Steam wafted from his shoulders and Miramae felt a soft spray of warm water pass over her in the aftermath.

A rush of air passed by her a moment later, nearly knocking her backwards as the Zephyr drove forward. He moved fast, raising a massive lance of frost in the air as he plunged downward. His attack found its mark, and he drove the icy spear through the body of the motionless Greyman with a howl of triumph. Miramae felt her chest squeeze with tension, but she was unable to move as the Dread cackled in excitement.

"Jor--" She pushed the words free in a partial croak, but they were coat short as she blinked in disbelief.

The Zephyr stood alone, his spear impaled deeply into the ground. No signs of cloth or blood were apparent on the winter-forged weapon, nor was there any cry of pain to be heard from its victim. It was as if the Greyman had never been there in the first place.

The Zephyr seemed to realize the same thing at the same time, his amused giggling cut short as a sharp whistle sped by him. Miramae could hardly see the helmeted swordsman as he ran his blade across the Zephyr's abdomen.

A ear splitting scream shook the air as the Dread attempted to avoid the strike, his body shattering into ice as the abyssal sword passed through him.

"THAT DAMNED BLADE!" The Zephyr screeched, his body coming back together almost instantly as he collapsed to his knees.

"I'm impressed. I thought that'd be the end." The Greyman's voice reverberated in the cold, his blade hanging calmly at his side.

From its tip, a small trail of black energy waved in the wind, slowly, but surely, sinking into the impossibly dark metal.

Miramae shifted her gaze towards the Zephyr, who was clutching his side in obvious pain. Dark wisps of Ennem bled from a thick gash in his waist. As it fell, it condensed, splashing against the cement like hot tar.

"It's really you." The Zephyr said the words with loathing, and his eyes briefly met Miramae's."What do you want with the Vermyr?"

Miramae glanced toward's the Greyman, curious how he would respond.

"Vermyr? I thought they were all dead--A weak race that went extinct ages ago." The metallic response was quick and short, but its meaning was not lost on her.

Miramae squinted towards the helmeted figure, feeling a flare of annoyance. It was hardly the time to bring up petty squabbles.

"You're not here for her?" The Zephyr asked in disbelief, slowly rising to his feet.

The bleeding from his gash seemed to have stopped, but there was no sign of the wound itself disappearing. Miramae felt a cold tingle run through her as she realized that blade could have very well done the same thing to her but a day or so prior.

"No," Miramae looked towards the Greyman as his voice dipped in a deep, ominous rumble. "I'm here for you."

The Greyman was moving before his threat was finished, his footstep leaving a dent in the ground as he rocketed towards the Zephyr.

However, the Dread's instincts saved him. The frosty spectre burst into a cloud of ice, desperately bursting upward as he felt the knight's bloodlust. He moved like a demon fleeing from holy water.

Even so, the Greyman's blade tore through bottom edge of the swirling mass, inducing another wail of fury from the injured Dread as he flailed into the sky. The previously mild storm began to grow, frenzied into an excited force of nature as it attempted to conceal the fleeing Zephyr.

"Trying to run." The Greyman said dryly, standing calmly amidst the raucous gales.

A familiar green light appeared on the tip of the man's gloves, and Miramae watched as he waved his hand in a few short motions. A brief moment later, he turned his head to the right, looking off into the unseeable distance.

"RUN THEN!"

Miramae nearly jumped as the man's voice rung out in the blizzard, her eyes strained as she watched him lift his sword towards the sky.

"Asveyas, non," A tendril of green energy rippled up the Greyman's arm, flowing through his wrist and into the hilt of his blade before vanishing. "ZIETT!"

As if launched by an unseen canon, the blade shot free of his hand, disappearing into the sky. Miramae craned her head, watching it vanish into the passing winter.

"Gotcha." A soft, cruel, whisper said from just behind her.

She hadn't even noticed the subtle gathering of Ennem behind her until it was already being propelled over her head.

The Greyman continued to watch the skies, unaware of the danger rushing towards him. Desperation gripped her and Miramae felt her arm lurch, a rush of her own Ennem coursing through her veins as she forced her body to respond. Maybe it was luck, or maybe enough time had passed, but she felt her body snap to life as a dark spike rushed over her right shoulder.

Her fingers clenched wildly, her eyes useless as she focused her senses on the energy that had just flicked past her ear. It was moving fast, almost too fast.

Almost.

Her hand spasmed sharply as clenched her tired grip around the missile, stopping it in its tracks. Unfortunately, the haphazard catch sent her sprawling forward. The cold ground was hardly inviting as she collided with it, but she smiled all the same, holding the unseen Dread's creation like a steel clamp. She doubted it could move on its own, but she wasn't taking in chances.