Gelehrter gritted his teeth and swiped toward him. His steel met air however, as his sight failed him.

“Justicar are often beset by many enemies, often at once.” Gavilis said as he waved his hand over the boy, his energy returning to him. “I have given you a chance. Disarm me and you win. Don't and you are dead. This mercy I allow because you had performed well in the Grand Tourney today.”

He shook his head and mounted a new defense. With each blow, sparks ignited into the air. Steel rang like the rhythmic drums of war. Their steps back and forth seemed to morph into a dance of death, each additional blow met equally.

Gelehrter glimpsed an opening in his defense. With a turn, he turned his blade in the middle of its flight, smashing Gavilis's hand with the flat. Instinctively he released his weapon, but as the strike landed, so too did Gavilis react. He kicked his sword into the air with his knee, the blade bouncing harmlessly into the air. His fist clashed against his jaw and he spiraled off his feet.

The Grandmaster of the Justicar caught his weapon with a wry smile.

“Clever. Come, again.”

Good sign. Gavilis doesn't toy with anyone, they usually are dead. Ovelia thought absentmindedly.

Gelehrter struggled to his feet. Ana attempted to rush to his side, but Arden gripped her sleeve, shaking her head.

They stood now facing one another. Another rush and steel met steel again. They danced for awhile longer, fists and elbows crashing against their forms. While Gelehrter felt every sting, Gavilis appeared to merely grunt and swallow the agony.

Finally, Gavilis lowered his guard and dropped his weapon. Gelehrter's sword met his skull, the barrier around his body taking form. Sparks showered him as the weapon split in two, his longsword tolling as it met the wooden floor.

“Good, good.” Gavilis held out his hand and smiled. “This first lesson I give to you is in humility and conviction. A Justicar's tenacity is what guards him when he is weakened. Should you be ambushed by many, you must not falter. Your own strength is enough to trample mountains and the Blessed Star will aid you.

All Justicar are awarded the Blessed Star of Sanctuary, an emblem which is powered by your own conviction. Your virtues, your intelligence, your will. This gives your armor strength and is more powerful than any smelted steel. However...”

“It is not allowed in tournaments. Ernald's rule since the beginning, he said then it was cheating.” Ovelia shrugged.

Gelehrter took the hand of his Grandmaster, suddenly shaking as the force from every blow finally become bare. “T-Thank you, Grandmaster.”

“Now...Arden.” Gavilis's gaze took to the youth who remained in her bed. “I will meet with you tomorrow. You are Justicar as well.”

“Y-Yes...yes sir.”

“Mister...Gavilis?” Ana stammered. Gavilis raised an eyebrow at her but feigned a reply. “Please...tell me what manner the Blessed Star is made from.”

Ovelia and Gavilis exchanged glances.

“I am a craftsman, sir. My papa was Eisener Wille.”

“That fellow?”

“Yes, he was...” Ana swallowed a knot in her throat. “...was the greatest.”

“Do not worry of such things for now. Now is a time for stories.” The shift in his demeanor caught everyone but Ovelia offguard. “But...you will experience it for yourself. A magic will be prepared and you will know it as if you were there. Come along, fix the room.”

Hastily they scrambled to align the beds with the others. Arden had attempted to help, but was hopelessly discouraged by the pain in her legs.

Rena aided Gelehrter in removing his armor.

When they had finished and the remnants of Gelehrter's longsword salvaged, they each took to a bed, either to sit or lay.

“Close your eyes and imagine a time before time began...” Gavilis and Ovelia chanted, waving their hands in unison. All but they fell suddenly into a deep slumber, their dreams fixated on a time before time began.

Water flowed endlessly in the soup filled with life. Beings formed into one another, morphing into other versions of themselves. They tirelessly evolved and reproduced.

However, in the expanse of the sprouted universe, the center coalesced with life as well. Collections from each planet which bore life in the entirety of existence had been placed there. Fields of green, forests of rising deciduous trees, lakes and oceans. All of the aspects from other planets dotted the landscape. From towering cliffs which rose nearly to the heavens, white wastelands covered in sparse flora, to oceans flowing endlessly into the horizon, life flourished.

The Father had descended to witness His own handiwork. He weaved His mighty hand and built flesh and bone. In His image, a man and woman took the stage.

“Ernald and Eloise.” He addressed them, their names labeling them for their endless lives. “You will guide the masses which inhabit these lands. From your minds will inventions of new aspects come to fruition and from your hands will they come to life.”

They appeared dumbfounded and refrained from fixating their gaze onto him. He raised His hands and in moments, knowledge flowed deep into their minds. The brilliance of this new knowledge dyed the corneas within their eyes a deep ocean blue, the vast understanding of the world taking shape. Language, infinite tongues from life itself, sprouted from their mouths. Hastily they spoke to one another. Disbelief, then to understanding.

“Protect this place. It is Sanctuary, a place of peace. Honor it and it will cherish you. This is my final gift to you.” The Father had vanished into nothing, His form elevated into the heavens above.

Ernald and Eloise stared into the chaotic ocean within their eyes. Truth returned their gaze. They shared both hair of white, pale ivory skin and peak physical form. All had been revealed to them and they knew all.

Thousands of leagues passed by them as they sprinted without growing tired. Sleep never found them. Hunger or thirst took no notice of them. They existed happily, living in their state for thousands of years.

Finally, Ernald spotted a new form. He greeted them with a wave and they hurried over.

“Hello there, I am Ernald. This is Eloise.” The phrases were repeated until the being understood.

“What manner of creature are you?” Eloise inquired.

The short being shook his head and shrugged.

“...A dwarf.” Knowledge from deep within took shape. The being, standing barely to their torso, was stout and hardy.

So it repeated thousands of times over. Their knowledge sprouted from them and in their knowledge came teaching. All manners of intelligent life were taught by Ernald and Eloise.

However, one day a being approached Ernald. A man.

This man, strong and capable, handed him a primitive weapon. This thing had been carved from stone.

“I challenge you.” He spoke in his strange tongue. Ernald understood, but did not know what he meant. He grasped the tool and his body reacted to a lunge from the man.

The man swung his weapon in malice and was instantaneously parried. Their duel went on for quite sometime until Ernald struck back. Rage took him. A being ultimate knowledge being challenged by one whom he had taught. All of his skills, his knowing, his speech. His own way of life was thanks to Ernald.

And with a blow to the skull, it split. The man slumped over and Ernald released the tool from his grasp.

“Mortem.” Other beings referred to him then. Eloise was not spared from the title. It was then that they were given another name by mortals. Mortem. Death.

Death. Too quickly did they learn of it and too quickly was their lesson a harsh one. The concept had been known to them, though the reality of causing it was alien.

Ernald and Eloise were not approached in the same manner again. If one wished to speak to them, they stood at a distance.

Thereafter, lessons of building took place. They set forth from then on to build a tower in homage of the Father. To visit him again.

Cities rose around the tower, as workers established families and settled. The sprawling Market District shaped around the concept of bartering.

However, as they ventured out into the darker reaches of Sanctuary, they met with a new threat.

This threat was a biped and resembled a man, or woman, but it drank the blood of its own.

Weapons were constructed. Massive towers and defenses erected.

One night, they struck. The defenses which Mortem and others had come to rely on failed them. Their own trust of their own creations failed them.

Ernald and Eloise met their adversary, the vampires, on the field of battle. Eloise fell shortly afterward, but it was Ernald who fought for eons.

His struggle, his strength, his prowess. All was taken from him as his body failed him. Mountains of corpses tallying in the millions were left in his wake. A path leading from the mighty Citadel to the far reaches of the Northern District were laden with the lifeless.

And it was near the end of this path where he fell.

Before he could accept death, he prayed.