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"I said 'are you istening'?" Shouted the Mage loudly "Nacht!"
"Yes, sir." Replied the honored magician Ebrius Nacht, bringing his attention back from the window.
"We need a first attack on the Empire. They need to be cut off from every corner!"
"Indeed, sir. What does your ingenious mind plan, sir?"
"I want you to stop their army."
"How, sir?"
"By any means necessary."

Natch grinned before stalking out of the Mage's room. We shall defeat anyone in our path! We shall punish the Empire for their insult towards my master!

Slowly, carefully, he walked through the halls of Adfrafar planning his next move. If we stop the army from moving then they can only attack us via magic, which my most talented master can defeat. Calling to his fingers, the air twitched and changed current. Suddenly a powerful wind picked up, but this was only a fraction of what it was like in the Imperial City.

Rain banged on the glass windows that shielded the Empress from the wild wild weather raging outside.

Dmitri got up the next morning and made his way down to Fenrad Street, the military area of the city, a broad boulevard lined with elms. The generals met him there, as he had asked, along with twenty or so magicians.

"I have asked you here today so that we may discuss the reformation of the army," said Dmitri, his voice sharp and loud. "Magicians and soldiers will be working together from now on. For every two hundred men in an army I want a mage. If a force exceeds one thousand men it will require a higher level mage to strengthen it, and one more for the next thousand and so on. We have a week and a half. Train the men and mages together. Research nexus', shields and war magic. It will be neccesary. I also want each man trained in a very easy fire incantation to work on a sword. That is all men. Good morning."

Claire opened Arella's door and placed the sword on her bed. Next she went to Vericalis' chamber and placed her sword on the desk. She had no use for it now. Finally she retired upstairs and went to sleep, dreaming of storm churned nights and wind tossed seas.

"We are at war! I refuse to let such trivialities undermine my ruling!" I shouted at the damned council. Who did they think they were telling me to do things like that? I'm in control here! I stormed out of the room, and into my private chamber.

The army left three days ago and Dmitri went with them, telling me he'd teleport back even though he hasn't yet. It's too quiet in here. I feel empty and lonely. When will he be back?

Countless meetings with heads of staff left me bored out of my mind! Time and time again being told the same thing, ordering the same orders, does nothing ever get done in this stupid place?! Must I do everything?! I ran through the countlessly long corridors in anger before I ran into something hard. It made a noise; I looked up and there was Dmitri towering over me with blood and gore spattered over him!

"Empress! We need your power near Adrafar! They are too strong to hold back!" He shouted, holding me by the arms.

"I'll get my staff..."

"No! There's no time! We'll have to teleport" He grabbed me as I tried to move away. We appeared somewhere and dissapeared so quickly I was dissorientated. Loud bangs and crashes startled me until I realised we were at the battle field. "Empress, we need you, call your strongest demon!"

Quick to recover, I summoned at first a weak demon then moved up through the ranks until I had complete power and control over the thousands of demons in the staff. I will show these fools what the Empire can do! I thought, as I sent them in a stream of fire into the walls of the great city of Adrafar!

The Mage was filled with rage as he felt the burst of energy against his walls.

"Notte, Phillipa, Ewart, Ebrius, Hestia and Ilian. It is time that you went out there. Show them the true power of Adrafar. I shall come aswell," said the Mage, summoning his scythe. His smooth face shone with fury as the palace removed itself from the ground and flew upwards, over the walls. The Mage led the way to the great balcony and with ease flew off of it. The others followed, Phillipa undamaged by a fall of fify metres and landing on her feet, Ewart carried by Ilian and Hestia supporting herself on beams of light. Ebrius stayed on the balcony, raising a staff and calling lightning down.

The Mage landed, his scythe slicing off the head of a Imperial Mage, the victims attacks bouncing off him, and the victims head bouncing more successfully. With a telepathic roar the Mage brought his scythe down into the ground and sent a hundred men, of Adrafar and the Empire flying outwards.

The Mage raised a hand at a demon of fire that was approaching. With a groan like an earthquake the demon contracted, squashed into a tiny ball of energy. The Mage focused a telepathic attack at it and it shattered into tiny fragments of light. With a swish the scythe spun around, ripping through a man.

Ebrius Nacht once again focused his powers, summoning the rains. With a roar of thunder another bolt of lightning hit the Empress's shield. The rain began to patter down, becoming heavier and heavier, forming into great golf ball sized drops. With a cry he summoned the winds...But they wouldn't come. He tried again, but they just wouldn't answer. Then he saw the rush of light and the figure in the distance. A greater commander of his element was here.

Dmitri whirled through the air, his claws swiping through flesh and his detonations wreaking havoc on the mage's forces. With a twirl of his cloak he disappeared, appearing infront of a great warrior with no armour whatsoever...Just basic garments and armed with a long sword. Quickly Dmitri stabbed forwards, his claws burying themselves in Phillipa Green's flesh. In answer she lifted him up by the next and threw him away with great strength. The wound made by his claws had healed over instantaneously. One of his claws was lying on the floor, after detaching itself when she threw him. He drew a kinfe in his spare hand, leapt forward and swiped at her throat, cleanly slicing through. He expected her head to loll onto the floor, but as he looked up he realised that even as he was slicing through her neck the cut was already healing over. With a sigh Phillipa Green slashed forward, across his chest. The thin armour plating he was wearing under his robe was what saved him, and the cut was only shallow. In desperation Dmitri whirled around once again and disappeared.