Aysut's revival was certainly a moment of déjà vu when it occurred, though not because of some past memory of mine from the time of Sardon. Rather, the sudden appearance of a necropolis filled to the brim with undying enemies bore a remarkable resemblance to the time of madness that had afflicted Karith many years prior. There was, of course, a difference this time in that the invading army did not hail from a dual reality trying to invade this one. No, this enemy was a remnant of chaos, an ancient relic trying to claw its way back to relevancy.

In the past, I would have left well enough alone for that type of situation; allowed others to put an end to Sardon's legacy in my stead. Yet, like most things in my life since Robin came into the picture, my attitude had been encouraged to change. I found myself dragged out onto the battlefield not one day later than news reached us in the highlands, and was encouraged – well, bribed – to help defeat the menace.

Robin herself tagged along for this journey, though the two of us separated near the city itself. She stuck to the outskirts, trying to head off the mummies from attacking wounded adventurers making tactical retreats. Meanwhile, I headed deep into the city, arriving at the pyramid's entrance without so much as a scratch or trailing minion to bar my path. There, I came upon a sight that decreased my enthusiasm for the entire venture even more than it already had been: down into the depths of negative integers.

"Great," I said sarcastically while standing in front of the statue depicting Xunatar's slaying, "That's not just asking for this place to become a slaughterhouse. As if I needed a reason to be more uncomfortable." The mummies had yet to notice me by this point, but I could already hear others inside the city getting their attention. The sounds of skirmish filled the night sky like the squeals of pigs to the slaughter. It was enough to make me drink from my canteen filled with apple cider to try and dull my instincts. "The things I do for you, Robin."

Only a fool would stay in that place like I was, but then love-struck fools still qualified.

Another land, plagued by yet another war, started once again by a deity. How many did this make for Mirannda now? Yet, she was done picking sides. He wasn't here that she had found, and neither was Tobias. No one commanded her through her dreams, and yet here she was. At first, the phoenix was merely curious as to the commotion out in the desert. People had given her rumors, some feared the rise and Awakening of something ancient. Maybe, just maybe, she could regain some of her lost control over her magic in this war.If this was to be her new home, Mirannda decided she needed to do something to preserve it. Having an army of mummies shambling around did not seem safe in any sane thought. Avoiding them was easy enough, as Mirannda slunk through the shadows wherever she could. When it was impossible, she made no effort to even silence her movement. Apple red hair was pulled back into a tight pony-tail high upon her head, dark leather armor hid the vital parts of her body, and a sharp sword gripped ready in her hand. She was dressed for war.Mirannda headed deep into the city, hoping to find some way to end the source of the infestation of undead. After what seemed like an hour of wandering, Mirannda happened upon a fox-like woman, as pretty as starlight on a night of a full moon. She was observing a statue of some being, most likely a deity, doing some dastardly dead. With a smirk, as it was her way of hiding her uncertainty of herself, Mirannda spoke nonchalantly behind the woman. "So let me guess, some god slayed a bunch of people long ago, and now whoever was wronged now seeks vengeance against the world. Does that sum it up?"

In hindsight, I will admit I appeared to be an oddity on that battlefield. Other explorers showed up with armor of some sort, anything to keep the undead riders at bay. I, on the other hand, was dressed only in simple clothing. I even had the audacity to don a dark overcoat in the middle of the desert, making myself seem to be more of a daft civilian than a hardened warrior. The only items that proved otherwise were my quivers, the Endapano Longbow on my back, and Toirneach in my hands, but any warrior familiar with normal archers would still have called me foolish for thinking these weapons would be effective countermeasures to the undead horde.

Even so, I never did get any comments about my lacking wardrobe during my initial interactions with the warriors invading Aysut. They either gave me a wide berth or were too concerned with their own wellbeing to care about a lone civilian stupid enough to wander into enemy territory without proper equipment. The phoenix in human form that approached me from behind at the pyramid's entrance was the first exception to that rule, although her first question was more of an information probe directed at current events rather than personal details about myself. She asked if her guess on the cause of the curse was correct, to which I responded with typically indifferent explanation.

"The opposite, really," I said while adjusting the red scarf around my neck to guard against the foul winds. "Sardon cursed this land for failing to appease his greed one year, and now his minions have risen from the dead to continue invoking his displeasure long after his disappearance and presumed death. This display in front of us is a recent creation by those minions: something meant as a mockery of the current deity of chaos. It depicts Sardon stabbing Xunatar, and the scratches on Xunatar's face are a result of the sculptor's rage rather than the piece's age." Only at this moment did I finally turn to face my companion of circumstance, letting Toirneach rest in my arms whilst continuing to speak. "But that's enough rhyme from me. As far as I'm concerned, Rudjek interrupted a very nice bath in the highland, hot spring resort I was visiting, and he's preventing me from going back to enjoy the luxury. Therefore, it's high time I smashed his crystal: a goal I'm assuming you share since you seem very much alive compared to the other humanoids in this city."

I hadn't thought to introduce myself to Mirannda back then, because my rule of thumb about war was always thus: most people I met would likely not survive to see me again. I didn't know the phoenix's strength, nor could I gauge her fate. For all I knew at the time of our initial interaction, she was just an expendable. Only time would prove me wrong.

She was one of the first to respond to the emergence of a lost city which time had forgotten. Coming along with a group of people, Shiloh helped build the base camp that was called Aestas. Most of what she did involved moving cargo and bringing supplies to the right places, but someone had to do the heavy lifting. There wasn't much else she could do. Soon enough more people were flooding in, some seeking treasure and some seeking other things. But venturing into uncharted territory meant casualties, and that was something the people at the outpost wanted to avoid. Knowing the terrain was half the battle, so when they needed volunteers to map out the acropolis she was one of them. Though in hindsight, she probably should have asked for a mount. This would've made getting there much easier.

"This place is way too big for my liking. There's not a lot of hiding places either, but at least the pathways are straightforward enough." Open spaces without much cover made evading the walking dead a little more difficult, and she didn't want to know what would happen if an entire swarm of them caught wind of her presence. After making a roundabout trip skirting the outer walls, she saw an opening to make way to the pyramid. Why did it have to be undead? Why couldn't it be something simpler, like rabid animals or defense systems?

Making it to the entrance, she hid herself by a pair of large statues until she determined the footsteps weren't belonging to the dearly departed. Leaving her hiding place, she looked upward and saw a depiction of someone stabbing somebody else. "…Just great. As if this place wasn't a literal death trap in itself. Not like we needed an ever-present reminder of our mortality." And whoever made this statue must be rather narcissistic too, seeing how usually people just made statues of themselves in a neutral pose than a posture of dominance. As long as said statues didn't come to life and try stabbing her, she could care less about the subject. Unbeknownst to her, she would cross paths with someone familiar but likely not remembered. Which was understandable, as Shiloh had sworn to bury the memory of a certain nearly-botched heist that made her stick with lower-risk jobs ever since.

Now a new decision was presented before her: to venture inward, or to continue mapping the outskirts? Both options would help her efforts in the long run, but one had more uncertainty in the mix. And uncertainty almost always meant risk. Outfitted in all her protective gear, her face was covered by a full-face mask to keep the sand out and her hands free. Pulling out an enchanted scroll she recorded her current progress in determining Aysut's layout, and tucked it away once she was finished. With her dragon-bone blade in hand she was doing her best to not draw the mummies' attention.

Mirannda made an honest effort to keep up with the long explanation to a half-heartedly asked question. Sardon was greedy, failed and cursed the land, that part was easy. His minions… the mummies?… created a statue of Sardon exacting revenge on Xunatar, whom Mirannda could only assume was the current deity of chaos. At the end of it, she felt a bit dizzy.

She felt like she needed a nice bath in some hot springs, right about now. Maybe after this whole mummy business was over, she would do just that. Forget about the magic and her efforts to regain it, Mirannda would just sit there and soak in the warmth, relaxing in meditation. Has she even stopped to do that since she's been here? While her mind sidetracked, Mirannda nodded in ascent.

"One could say I'm the living opposite of these wrapped shufflers. As we are both assuming things, let me voice my thoughts on the key to this operation is hidden somewhere in that pyramid? T'would be my guess anyway. Probably hidden by some maze and a myriad of other traps." Without asking if she would be joined by the seemingly unprepared woman, Mirannda marched passed her confidently and headed down the pathway. Surely it wouldn't take them long to get to the pyramid from here, would it?

In the end, my compatriot had little tolerance for long-winded speeches. I could tell from the lack of detail in her response that she probably only got half of what I was saying at best, but then the information I provided was hardly crucial to her objective in that graveyard of a city. History lessons aside, the only other thing that really mattered to anyone in Aysut that night was the complete and utter destruction of the ghost riders' commander – or, more precisely, the source from which he drew his power. Miraanda was a member of this latter group, according to her own words, so I was not at all surprised when she decided to go on without me after I nodded to her assumption.

Something that did surprise me, however, was the appearance of a certain thief's scent before the phoenix's departure. I smelled Shiloh on the wind long before she wound up near the depiction of Xunatar's slaying, but her identity had escaped me until I saw her scuffling about on the far side of the statue. She was keeping her distance, as was typical for a rogue of her stature; but I could still hear her when she self-narrated her short monologue. Ironically, we were both sharing similar thoughts about the statue in front of us, and that was a coincidence that brought a smile to my face in the otherwise dreary place.

Now, at this point, my group of three would probably have parted ways. We had similar goals, true, but all of us were loners. We didn't really like working with others unless required to – or at least that was my experience. However, the next words out of my mouth left us with little other choice than to cooperate with one another, even if that hadn't been my intention at all.

"Honestly," I had said once Shiloh appeared, "It never ceases to amaze me how much deities have in common with the mortals they despise. Sardon, like a village fool, pissed in his own well to say he owned it; and, just like that fool, he's been labeled inconsequential; condemned to obscurity where he belongs. Xunatar is more a threat than him now, and his flunkeys can't face that reality. That's why they create these tasteless statues."

Unfortunately for me and my biting tongue, Rudjek was listening at that moment. His anger became palpable in the air of the antechamber almost instantaneously, followed by the appearance of a sandstorm inside the room. The grains from said storm flowed viciously into the joints of the statue I had just criticized, bringing its sandstone likeness to life just as the winds died down.

"Apparently Mr. Tall Dark and Mummified heard me," I proclaimed as I saw the formerly inanimate Sardon now springing to life! I was prepared to confront him, to take responsibility for my own misstep; but something odd happened following his resurrection which prevented me from doing so. For some reason unknown to me, the statue turned away after his rebirth. He had been summoned to fight me, the one who had insulted his likeness, but, instead, he went after Shiloh. The colossus took his glaive and stabbed it in the rogue's general direction with enough force to crack the floor of the pyramid itself. He didn't stop with that, either, continuing to march in her general direction with no sign of abating violence.

Under normal circumstances, I would have tried to distract that stony behemoth away from the woman, especially since she had played no role in his awakening; but, frankly, that night had me more trigger happy than usual - a lot more. The statue had gotten his first and only attack in before I could counter, and, after that, he only lived for less than two seconds. A thunderous roar louder than even the most raucous of airship cannons filled the entire antechamber shortly thereafter, turning the living golem's hips into a pile of rubble and ash in a flash of light. For the first time in years, Toirneach had rang out, defeating Rudjek's minion in a single blow before sending it toppling to the ground.

This act of mine potentially saved Shiloh's life, but it also trapped our entire party inside the pyramid. I was wearing beeswax in my ears to protect them from the weapon's feedback at the time, so I didn't notice at first. After I removed the plugs, though, I heard the sound of every nearby mummy as they began congregating around the temple. They knew intruders had breached their perimeter now, and they were surrounding the pyramid to trap us inside. I didn't even need to inform the others in that room of this development, because the sight was plain to see. Undead streamed in through the main entrance like mosquitoes unto a fair maiden.

While she was considering whether or not to enter, her ears picked up the sound of stone grinding against stone. Thank heavens she had excellent instincts, honed by years of barely surviving near-death experiences. To her absolute horror, the statue wielding the weapon began to move and thrust its weapon into the ground with pure killing intent. Naturally she was already out of its way by the time it hit, but this didn't take off the edge of seeing a stone spear leave gaping cracks in the ground. Her scream lodged itself into the top of her throat, escaping as a near noiseless gasp of terror as she began running from a statue that wanted to kill her for no reason. This happened every time. For some unholy reason, she had an uncanny ability to get into the worst situation possible. And like always, by the skin of her teeth she'd barely squeak by to live another day. Some might grow complacent and overconfident with their luck in such a case, but Shiloh cursed it vehemently.

"WHY ME?!! WHAT DID I DO?!" She hollered, directing a rhetorical question to the statue–and fate itself. "GO AWAY!! NOBODY LIKES YOU!!!" In a combination of outrage, fear, and confusion, she shouted angrily at it. Then it felt like her ears exploded, and she dropped to the floor with her hands over them, reeling from the sound. Good lord–that sound! For your average, run-of-the-mill human being it would just cause an unpleasant ringing in the ears and potentially temporary hearing loss, but for her it was like setting off a bomb inside her ear canals. Everything was spinning; existence was pain. She had to shut off all of her sensations from the outside world just to soothe her agitated nerves. Again her danger sense told her to get up and stop hurting, or else she wouldn't be able to feel pain anymore. Sure enough, as she forced herself to her feet she saw undead crawling in like ants discovering a piece of a fallen sweet roll. 

Not this again! Now the only way was to go deeper into the temple–the exact opposite of escaping. If she had any doubts on whether or not to go in, she was being thrust into it now. Throwing a despairing look at the source of that deafening noise, Shiloh grabbed her sword and bolted. Why oh why did that person ever think using a weapon with the sound of a thousand cannons was a good idea? Hastily summoning Silgun's Eye into her free hand, she held it over the right eye-hole of her mask to see if there were any traps lying in wait for fresh blood. Thankfully there weren't…yet, so she tried to find a place to hide. The rooms–cursed as they were–provided nothing. Nothing to serve as cover for even a small child. She began to hate this place already, and she was sure it reciprocated that sentiment.

"All I wanted was to map the layout of these ruins, see if there were any stragglers, and go home. But I guess somebody isn't going to let me." She fumed, nervously looking around with her sword in hand. If the walls started coming to life, she was done. Forget the mob of walking corpses outside, she wasn't putting up with that. There was not enough patience in the world for her to be dealing with this nonsense.

Sand kicked up, and Mirannda threw her arms up to protect her eyes at the very least. The irritating small grains were everywhere else, so it didn't matter if another layer thrust itself upon her. However, she froze at the sound of something similar to avalanche, stone grinding against stone instead of it falling and banging on itself. When the phoenix turned to look, her stomach plummeted. How in the world was she supposed to fight a living statue?!?

Stuffing her insecurities about the situation into a deep, dark hole within herself, Mirannda went to rush forward regardless. Before she could even get close enough to anything, a sound so loud and unexpected seem to explode around them, bouncing off the walls and echoed back upon all sound receptors. Mirannda's scream was lost in the cacophony, as if thousands of thunderclaps went off simultaneously in a tiny area. She succumbed to the assault on her ears by falling onto her knees, hands pressed over her ears as her sword was discarded.

This wouldn't do! They were vulnerable, not to mention now their presence was announced with spectacular volume. The phoenix tried to ignore the ringing in her ears as she grasped for her sword's hilt, pushing herself up off the ground with a grunt. Undead were pouring into through the entrance, cutting off their primary exit from this accursed place. She summoned a fireball and threw it into the face of a leading mummy, catching its wrappings aflame. Closing the distance between her and Shiloh, Mirannda placed her hand under an elbow and pointed further in. "That isn't going to distract them long." It was an attempt to get them away from a pressing matter to regroup from a blow to their eardrums.

As the trio delved deeper into the pyramid, there were scurrying sounds beyond the obvious shuffling and moaning of the creatures behind them. The experience was unsettling, giving her an odd sensation that things were crawling against her skin. "Why do I get the feeling we're not alone aside from our friends behind us?"

If you were to ask me whether I was sorry for using a less than ideal attack to take out Rudjek's statue, my automatic answer would have been no. Yes, I had acted hastily, but were the immediate results of my actions something to regret? Hardly. The mummies came barreling in, true, but I'd take an army of undead over a rampaging colossus any day; especially since said colossus had been far faster and in possession of exponentially more power than its alternative. The danger may not have abated completely because of my decision to use Toirneach, but it was at least reduced to something that could be outrun.

I was not unsympathetic to the plight of my companions, however. My lack of warning to them prior to the attack had left them woefully unprepared for it, and, as such, they were injured from the auditory feedback.  Toirneach's roar was deafening in the best of cases; and could cause permanent hearing loss even in the average human when activated at maximum volume. I had to specially make enchanted beeswax earplugs just to deal with the drawbacks from using such a weapon, and neither Shiloh nor Miraanda had access to that during their time in Aysut. So while I was left perfectly fine after the detonation, they were sent fleeing with tinnitus; pain; and, likely, hearing loss.

Yet, as one might imagine, I couldn't do much for them in the current circumstance other than send minor healing spells their way. We were surrounded by swarms of enemies on both sides: scarabs within and mummies without. In order to get anywhere, we were going to need to drive them off - at least temporarily - so I decided to lag behind Miraanda and Shiloh in order to think on possible ways of doing that. My healing spells were sent out to them just as I started to examine my options; but it was only after I saw Miraanda's fire attack that I got an idea: a truly devious and awful idea.

Toirneach was still red hot from its previous detonation, and now one of the mummies was on fire. That solitary flame wouldn't do much on its own against a horde, but the inner arsonist in me knew this only meant we had to make it bigger.

"Hold this for me," I said to the mummies as it occurred to me what to do. In an instant, three projectiles of bog slime magically formed in my hands before being launched at the horde itself. They didn't hold together all that well, falling apart in midair before impact. However, they did spread and splash about as intended, covering the entire pyramid entrance and most of the mummies in caustic ooze. The liquid spread so rapidly and far reaching that it even led a trail back to me several meters away from where I had been aiming.

I stood in front of that now slime-filled entrance for a short while longer, giving an innocent smile to the mummies before touching Toirneach's tip to the slick."Oh right," I proclaimed at that moment! "Bog slime is highly flammable…" Without even the slightest hint of warning, the goo from my earlier attack ignited from the heat of my weapon, turning the entry way into a greasy inferno. Mummies slipped and burned to immobility just from standing inside its area of effect, and, because I had used natural elements to create the chain reaction that bound them, I didn't have to maintain it. Instead, I easily left to rejoin the other two women in my party.

Meanwhile, said companions were dealing with the other menace. The bright light of the flames at the entrance had illuminated most of the scarabs surrounding the two, but, sadly, I was not in a position to assist them in their sorely needed extermination role. Thankfully, it was easy enough to tell that these bugs really didn't like illumination, judging from their attempts to stay in the ever-dwindling shadows. Perhaps that would be enough for Miraanda and Shiloh to deal with them before I had to.

The pain was keeping her from working at peak performance so a swig from a healing potion helped take the sting off that sound-bomb. Then her senses cleared up a little and she felt an uncomfortable, nervous feeling as she heard skittering. She hated skittering. There was this other woman with claret red hair near her too, and more importantly there were bugs crawling everywhere. There was only one correct and efficient way to deal with this situation. Fire. Lots, and lots of fire. Normally she would be hissing beneath her breath muttering curses and complaints, but she had something that could remedy that nicely.

Yes she had a torch, but why settle for a puny flaming stick when you could have something that could cut and sear? Putting her dragon-bone blade away she summoned her second favorite sword into her hand–her phoenix blade. This had to be one of the best things since the discovery of fire and the wheel. Normally she wouldn't even deal with insects, but everything was out to kill you here in this place so it was justifiable. Swings from the sword set the scarabs alight, and they scampered around in a frenzy while they burnt to a crisp. "Bleeding insects…you're not getting anywhere near me. Burn like the little pests you are." Things had gone off on an awful start, and she wasn't letting anything get the jump on her this time. If she saw it, she would put it down immediately.

The life signatures in the area had decreased dramatically, not taking into account that the undead were not truly alive. Glancing behind she saw the only way out was also on fire. Wonderful. When the insects were thoroughly roasted, Shiloh picked one up and examined its burnt husk. She decided to pocket it, and bring it back to the scholars back at Aestas for study. She had never seen such beetles with shiny colored carapaces. Their sheen was reminiscent to cut emerald. With flaming sword in hand, she tapped her foot as she gave the place a once-over. It was then she finally noticed Natsumi, but not in the same way as before. She didn't even realize it was the person who kindly gave her a means to silence that bloody metal bird which was just a stinking replica–but for a moment she had a feeling of deja vu.  

Thinking she was still disoriented from having her eardrums blown out, she brushed it off. "…Well it looks like it's just the three of us." Raising her foot she stomped down crushing a dead scarab with a satisfying crunch.