Wewt, I’m back! Comments pl0x. If I got anything wrong, if I got something right, if there were grammar issues or spelling mistakes, if the plot sucked, if it was really patchy in places? Flame me, comment me, etc. I appreciate comments of any sort, whether commenting on the wrong or right, because it helps me improve on the points I’m weak at. Which will bring you better-quality story. =D

Also, this is the last chapter of the Prime Factors arc. Only that the title box won’t let me put it in. D<

Also, I have a special apology to make to all of you for making this chaptar so late; but ESPECIALLY Ez, ILC, Silver and Munky, for I told them it’d be up ages ago and gave them enough false hope to float the Titanic. So greatest apologies ESPECIALLY to you guys – thank you for putting up with horrible me.
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i. Phase – Li
She reached over for the bucket of water and dunked her frozen hands into it, biting the inside of her lip as the warmth seeped into her swollen fingers. Carefully, she shifted so she could better catch glimpses of his face; he looked disturbed, even in his sleep, and she wondered if what he had said was true. Was Essy really gone? If she was…

He stirred, and she pulled her hands out of the warm water hurriedly, searching for a towel to wipe them dry on. In the absence of a towel, she reluctantly decided to use her sauna robe, drying them as best she could, her eyes trained on his face all the while. His eyelids flickered, once or twice, and she waved a hand hesitantly in front of his face. “Az?”

He turned to her, and she caught her breath as his eyes, now darker, depthless, fixed upon her.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice raspy from unconsciousness and the chest infection, and started coughing. She looked around quickly, one hand sweeping out to grab the nearest potion bottle, sloshing its contents into a mug for him. Carefully, placing the mug on the bedside table, she helped him sit up, and handed the cup to him. He stared at it as though he had never seen a Red Potion before. That, she thought, was slightly creepy. Carefully, she considered his question and answered, “I’m Li. We’ve been friends since Maple Island. You’ve been driving me crazy since then.”
“Oh.” He shook his head a couple of times and drank from the cup; she watched him warily. There was a terrifying blankness about him that she didn’t remember. The Az she knew from newbdom had been crazy in the head, but more alive. This Az was one stripped of all emotions, as if something had died inside of him.

“I remember you,” he said suddenly, and she jerked, suddenly aware that she had been staring at him all the while. Suddenly, the mug smashed against the wall behind her, raining ceramics onto the floor and making her yelp. Turning back to him after staring at the tiny fragments the vessel had been reduced to, she was about to yell at him, when he was suddenly clinging on to her front, and beginning to sob. Hesitantly, and rather nervously, she put her arms around him.
“I tried…to cheat Death,” he gasped out. “Death…cheated me…of her…”

ii. Li
The Fire Arrow whizzed over my head as I cursed and let loose a Lucky Seven, which stabbed into a tree as she Teleported. Concentrating, I let a Dark Sight cover me while I snuck through the snow, hoping the same trick would work on her as it had on Essy, but swore, leaping back, as a bubble of poison exploded in front of me.
“For an Assassin, you aren’t much good,” Al remarked dryly, and I glared at her as she smiled coldly at me, one of the flaming arrows forming between her hands as she spread them. “Try harder, please. It’s getting boring.”

I bit back an insult and forced myself to say, “Then why don’t you let me through?” She looked surprised, then slightly insulted, then stepped back, smiling. She kept the arrow up, though, which annoyed me. I had been hoping I could jump her while her guard was down. After a short pause, she shrugged.
“Because he told me that I can’t do that,” she answered, voice mocking. I narrowed my eyes at her, or tried to, and spent a few seconds of thought before I realised that the ‘he’ could only be Saedas, after a memory of a house in Lith passed quickly across my thoughts.

“So he’s up there too?” I demanded, resolve to get to Az further strengthened by the fact that he was facing two psychos up there, or at least one psycho and one fairly normal enemy, on his own. She nodded slightly, then extinguished the arrow and sat down on a rock. Her cool ticked me off. Now I really wanted to knock her lights out.
“Oh, sit down,” she said acerbically. “You’ll never get to him in time, and they can handle it.” That was it.

Stomping up to her, I hit her knuckle-bruisingly hard with all the strength I had in my unclawed arm. I wanted to break her face, not knock her unconscious…yet.
“How can you just sit there and talk about people killing other people?!” I yelled, brandishing my claw arm menacingly. “Essy died and all you can do is talk about how they’re going to kill Az?!” She sat up, looking confused for a second, before her usual self-satisfied smirk began to display itself. I itched to punch her again. It had been pretty satisfying, but would probably have been better if she had shown some reaction at least, and wasn’t acting like this was completely in her stride.
“You don’t understand it, do you?” she asked, getting to her feet. “Not that I could expect a kid like you to understand it anyway. I suppose I had too much faith in you.” Snow dripped and evaporated off her; I glared at her, feeling sludgy at her show of fire powers. Then my mouth caught up with my brain, for once, and I nearly shouted at her, “Understand what?!”

“My master isn’t trying to kill your loverboy,” she said exasperatedly. Obviously she must have seen my blank look, for she sighed, shaking her head patronizingly. I felt like punching her again, but resisted. It didn’t help that she added, in a voice that was half to herself and half to the general population, “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”
“Then?” I demanded, and she smiled acidly at me as she lowered her hand.
“If Azrael lets him, my master is going to help,” she said dryly. “Don’t worry. They’re in less danger than you think.”
“So you really think they can hold their own against a creepy maniac ranger who’s setting out to kill them both,” I shot back furiously. “And you’re not even going to help? You’re just going to sit back and let them both die just because he told you to?”

For the first time, I thought I saw a glimmer of genuine hurt in her eyes before she blinked, and it disappeared. Shaking her head again, the infuriating smirk holding on to the sides of her mouth still, she remarked, “That’s why you don’t see it the way I do. Because you don’t see him the way I do.” Confused, I spend another few precious second to arrive at the realization that she was talking about Saedas in her case and Az in mine, then growled, “Of course I Zakum-well don’t!” as I took a threatening step towards her.

Shrugging, she leaned back against a tree, folding her arms before her. “Of course you don’t,” she mimicked. “You knew what happiness was before he entered your life.” I blinked at her before arming my claw with Steelys, raising it point-blank at her.
“Are you going to let me through or am I going to have to kill you, then?” I demanded, pleased to hear a definite tone of menace in my voice. Dark Lord, I was getting better at this. Unfortunately, she gave me no time to gloat as she practically hit me in the nose with a refill band. I grabbed it as it fell, glancing down at it to see the glint of packaged throwing-stars, then gave her a death-glare that was just answered with cool amusement.

“You give Assassins a bad name,” she commented, turning to glance up the pass. I snarled, but she continued as soon as I’d finished, adding snarkily, “I always thought Thieves were coordinated, and had at least some degree of intelligence. Apparently I was very wrong. But do enjoy your walk to the top.”

Now it was my turn to blink. Allamar waited, and the convenient breeze rustled the trees and the folds of her Moonlight. Then she turned back, looking smug. “Amazing. I’ve reduced Miss Motor-Mouth to speechlessness. The sky must be falling.” She gave the clouds a theatrical glance, and the fact that that phrase, with the movements a little more exaggerated, could have been spoken by Az, was what jolted me back. Scowling, I snapped, “What do you mean, enjoy? You’ve been trying to stop me from getting up there since I arrived!”

“To be precise, I’ve been succeeding,” she corrected coolly. “Don’t worry; if you’re afraid, I’ll be protecting you every step of the way.” That got my hackles up. She had to be lower-levelled than me, by Dark Lord’s name!
“I don’t need protection!” I shrieked, incensed. “Least of all yours!”
“Don’t worry,” she repeated, but this time her voice was low and oddly sarcasm-free. “Remember that you’re not the only one who has a dear one fighting for their life up there.”

iii. Phase – Maestro
“Zakum,” swore the Hunter, his feet slipping on the scree as he clawed at the steep slope. “Athena Pierce and Grendel and Alishar!” One Blue Willow-clad hand landed on the ledge above him and he yanked himself up, slinging the Olympus up above him before struggling his painful way onto the stone slimy with the dankness of the cave. He gave himself no time to rest, though, scanning the area quickly before his eyes fixed on a flapping robe.

A young magician, the red folds of his Starlight flapping, was enveloped by a flash of fairy warding magic as a huge, dark creature advanced on him, its nightmarish claws raised. The Hunter froze, watching in stunned silence as the beast sent the magician sprawling with one blow of a monstrous paw, then shook his head and shot two arrows at it in rapid succession, screaming, “Saedas!” The magician’s head whipped around, and the Hunter thought he saw horror flash across the pale face before he turned back to the now enraged Jr. Balrog advancing upon him.

“Go back, Maestro!” he shouted, voice terrifyingly hoarse. This somehow strengthened the bowman’s resolve, and he shouted back, “Get out of here! The rest of the family have been looking for you since daybreak!” The demonic beast raised its head and roared, shaking the closed walls of the Sanctuary. Lowering its horned head, it charged at the magician, bellowing in pain. The two arrows protruded from its back, morbidly challenging the Hunter to perform a repeat of the deed.
“I can’t!” cried Saedas, teleporting out of the way as the creature thundered towards him. “It’s too late. You can’t make me go back!” With a shower of stone, it slammed into the wall, shaking the ledge that the Hunter stood on.

“What do you mean?” yelled Maestro, as he fought to regain his balance. “Don’t argue, you fool, just get out of here!” He thought he saw the magician shake his head sharply, and, infuriated, had taken barely one step forwards as the ledge crumbled beneath him. As he fell, his hand delved into his pack and tightened around a roll of paper, which he ripped open, hurling it at his would-be rescuee.
“No!” he heard Saedas scream, too late. All he saw as he hit the ground was the rain of debris around him, then the growing, approaching shadow, then shattering pain, then darkness.

The last thing he heard, however, was the magician’s voice shouting as it faded, “Why did you come? Why?!”

iv. Az
“What’s in this for you?” I asked bluntly, studying him. He twirled his staff, red with a yellow gem framed by infernal wings for a head; and gave me an unreadable smile.
“A memory, and freedom,” he said, and I stiffened at the word ‘memory’. It provoked me into responding as no other words could have, and my shinkita paused its curve against the side of his pale throat.

“Why?” I asked dangerously. “I had to suffer. Why?” He glanced over my face and expression, assessing, and our eyes locked. After a pause that was shorter than I would have expected, he said quietly, “All this was planned by Maestro. To bring you here, to shape you, to make you into a man who could kill with enough provocation granted.”
“You made me believe I killed my own girlfriend!” I shouted, grabbing a handful of his crimson Requiem to pull him towards me.

This wasn’t even the cold. It was just a raging black desire to hurt, to break, to make someone suffer like I had.

Before I could even begin to make this thrice-cursed magician bleed, though, he interrupted quietly, abruptly, with, “I did not. You did.” I stared at him in incredulous amazement before the realization dawned on me that he was both right and wrong. He had altered my memories to make me believe that Essy was gone. I had come to believe that ‘gone’ had meant ‘dead’, and I had come to believe that the blame…should rest solely on me. Shoving him away, I let him go and closed my eyes, tilting my head back to fully feel the sounds of the valley snapping across my skin, a kind of quiet rising from within.

“Before we-” he began, then fell silent. The sudden lack of sound pounded in my ears. Instantly, I knew something was wrong, and opened my eyes, bringing my gaze back down to see Maestro, eyes flashing at me from behind Saedas, one arm around the magician’s throat.
“Don’t tell the Black Angel everything yet, Saedas,” crooned the Ranger, a maniacal grin creeping across his blue-tinged face. I saw one of the Priest’s eyes crack open, face an emotionless mask, and I silently made an oath to not speculate on whatever Creepy Maniac Ranger had in for Saedas. And promptly broke that oath.

Saedas’ mouth moved. Then I did.

My Haste was still on, but I renewed the buff with a hint of power and proceeded to skid over, tightening my grip on the Super Awesome Shinkita of Az Butt-Kicking Doom. Creepy Stalker Ranger let go of the magician, who moved in a cascade of red. I wasn’t really concentrating, mainly because I was too busy focusing on how Undead-Nasty-Ranger-Man was moving. Hey, I liked the sound of that. ‘Undead-Nasty-Ranger-Man’.

In a sparkle of light, a couple of fairies appeared above me and I sneezed at the rain of sparkly dust. Ooh, shiny. I fancied one of the fairies zipped down to yell in my ear, “Don’t like it, then don’t accept it!” In response, I glanced at them with the further-perfected Az Kicked-Jr. Grupin Look, which they just rolled their eyes at before vanishing. I took the chance to get up, close, and more personal than I would have preferred with the Ranger, slashing my cutter in a quick double motion at the joints of his armour. He took a quick backstep and nocked an arrow; I dodged as it flew past me and made a face at him as I dashed in. His bow crashed against my shinkita violently as he blocked, smirking. A little way away, I could see Saedas’ hands pressed together, his lips moving as he spoke some magicianly thing of probable imminent destructification.
“Would you like to know what this is all about, Azrael?” taunted the Ranger, and I felt my emotions suddenly crystallize.

“Please, do tell,” I answered, my voice strangely detached. There was an odd smile on his face as he removed himself from me, stepped back and swiped viciously at the Priest, who dodged narrowly, his hazel eyes flashing suddenly.
“It all begins with him,” he said, voice low and almost pleasant. The magician’s expression changed; it looked determined, set, cold. Maestro gripped the bow, and we three began to circle each other. No sudden movements…this was now a conflict of words.

“Your name,” he said, almost gently. “Have you never wondered what it meant?” I narrowed my eyes at him, before answering, “Azrael was the Angel of Death. Is there some kind of ancient prophecy that has to be fulfilled here?” Glancing sidelong at Saedas, whose face betrayed nothing as always, I returned my gaze to Maestro, whose blue-framed eyes glittered at me with barely concealed hate.
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “Not very ancient. Only about five years old. You see, it all began with a clan. This clan had always been bowmen, and would have continued to be bowmen if one young magician had not broken the trend.” He gave the Priest the coldest glare imaginable. It was like a howling winter’s day blizzard, multiplied by twenty and pushed into the negatives, except one of those would probably have been more harmless.

“This magician had an older brother,” continued the Ranger, turning his icy gaze back to me. He looked contemptuous as he spoke, but I was focusing more on his movements than his expressions. “Despite the differences between them, they helped each other, and they took care of each other. One day, though, on a trip through the Ant Tunnel with the rest of the family, the magician brother ventured too far. He finished up where he shouldn’t have, in a Sanctuary in the middle of Victoria where Balrogs dwell.” Now the look he gave Saedas was far more significant, and to my own black amusement, the magician continued for him. Emptily, he said, “Maestro saved my life. At the cost of his own.”

I missed a step and instantly, he was on me. Four arrows shot at me with blinding force and speed, and I hit the ground rolling as he chased me with another string of arrowage. There was a flash of bright light, then a short cry of pain, and I spun to see the dark bow connect with the Priest’s side with bone-cracking force and winced. Say what you like, but a mere robe could not be good enough protection against that. My heels pushed off the frozen grounds of the cliff, and I launched at him.

It turned out mid-leap that this wasn’t a good idea, for he sidestepped and whacked me nearly senseless with the side of his bow. I hit the ground groggily, and was rolling over, my brain reduced to a sludgy mess, when he picked me up by the throat and lifted me up. Man, now I knew where Psycho Fighter Chick had gotten her thumping skills from.
“And it happened that the older brother woke up later, improperly revived by the hysterical attempts of his pathetic magician brother,” he said, insanity just dripping off his voice. “This made the older brother angry, as you can imagine. When you tread the border between alive and dead, there are some things that change. Food? It tastes disgusting, for one. Love? It will never quite be the same. Sleep? What most of us want is death, the truest sleep of all. I don’t, though.” He leaned in and I could feel the icy air coming off his skin, and shivered as it travelled up my neck and face.

“I worked so hard to master the Metus,” he whispered. “It took immense pain and so much of my soul, but I did it. A weapon as powerful as the Metus has a mind of its own, though. It speaks to its master. It told me that Azrael, an Angel of Death, was coming for me. Did you know that everything that happened from three years ago was my doing?” I raised one knee to hit him where it would hurt, but he stopped me with a curt, “Do you really want to do that?”

“I’ll pick option B, please. ‘Yes, I really do, because otherwise I’m going to have to listen to this madman ranger kill me by asphyxiation’,” I answered cheerfully. I couldn’t see clearly; I was still kind of woozy from the force of the smash. That’s probably why I listened when he said to me, “Look down.”

Slowly, I looked back up again, and tried to give him my best, most winning grin. Wait, my enemy was the wrong gender for that. Never mind.
“So explain to me why I have to get killinated for this?” I asked, stalling for time until I could get back onto solid ground, or until Saedas was able to help me do so instead of being all gracefully crumpled into a heap. Graceful was good, but not when I was at great and life-threatening risk here. Creepy Stalker Ranger burst out into horrible, graven laughter, a bit like slamming tombstones.
“Isn’t it obvious by now, Black Angel?” he asked at length, still laughing. “You’re the last one who would be able to give me True Death. I can’t have that.”

With that, he let go.

v. Phase – Allamar
“‘Forever’,” she whispered, looking up at him. A faint smile flickered across the edges of her lips, and he nodded slightly. She frowned; hesitantly, entangling her fingers in his hair, she asked, “Why that?”

“Do you not want forever?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as he gently pulled the red locks out of her grip, her hands still thin but no longer emaciated. “The lights of infinity lie before you. Do you not crave them?” She paused to think, but only briefly. The answer was quick to come.

“Forever doesn’t mean anything if you’re not guiding me,” she answered, and for moments, there was only the headwind, shrieking around them, cold and biting. For moments, she worried that a boundary had been crossed, and just as she opened her mouth to apologize he replied, his voice measured, his words soft.

“You are still a child,” he said, his voice inflectionless, devoid of expression. She had never heard an adult sound so purposefully blank, and she glanced up at him. His face could have been a graven stone bust for all it revealed, and yet she felt something hidden, something he did not want to say, that made her heart churn inside of her. “What happens when I am dead and gone? I have made enemies throughout the years, and many would be glad to dig me a shallow grave before my time.”

“You’ll always be by my side,” she remarked, “Because I’ll always be by yours.” His hand tightened around hers, and he sighed softly, leaning down so they were eye-level with each other.

“You bear so much conviction, girl,” he said quietly. “I hope I will warrant your loyalty with my future actions.” She fixed her attentions on a lock of his hair, billowing as the headwind caught it up in playful fingers and snatched at it, tossing it around. Finally, she answered, when she felt confident enough that her voice was still.
“You already have my loyalty,” she said quietly. “You always will.” The word almost stopped on the tip of her tongue, but she spoke it anyway. “Master.”

“Master?” he asked, with a slight shake of his head, but she met his eyes; his hazel against her tawny brown. “Very well, then. But do not expect the next few years to be easy, Allamar.”

vi. Interlude
“So, Saedas?” said Maestro, smiling coldly. “Your Azrael is gone, dead like all the rest.” There was a muffled scream as the Metus cracked solidly across the Priest’s back, the sound of bones fracturing accompanying it like some gory rhythmic melody. “Perhaps when I’m done breaking your body, I’ll break your mind, then your spirit…then I’ll hunt down that young protégé of yours. Allamar, was she?”
“Leave her…out…” began the magician, struggling upwards, only to be shoved back down by a boot planted between his shoulderblades.

Magic, unseen by the bowman, poured out of the broken body of the Priest, leaking out in faint blue channels through the snow.

Shaking his head, the Ranger looked pensive. “Leave her out of this? Hardly, no. After all, she’s dear to you, isn’t she? I can’t leave any stone unturned, brother. Your debt needs to be repaid.” He removed the boot so Saedas could surface, gasping for air, then casually repositioned it, shoving the magician back into the snow. “Yes…I think the rest of my subordinates should be happy with an extra toy.” Removing the boot, he bent down beside the Priest and asked, voice dangerous, “Isn’t that so?”

The flow of mana increased, now evident if one stared long enough at a patch of undisturbed snow. Behind Maestro, an initially-faint light source grew.

“You have forgotten to factor in one thing in your calculations,” whispered Saedas hoarsely. The bowman’s eyes narrowed, and he asked, “What, pray tell?”
“There was never a debt to begin with, Maestro,” said the Priest tiredly, and the Ranger stared at him as he rose shakily to his feet. “What you interrupted that day did me no favours.”

Now the snow around them seemed to be stained faintly blue. The light escalated, but so wrapped up was the bowman in the magician’s seemingly-insane words that it went unnoticed.

For once in his undeath, Maestro was rendered silent by a revelation.
“Are you trying to make me believe,” he began at length, “That the situation in the Cursed Sanctuary…” Saedas’ eyes flicked up to meet his, and there was a cold, dark fury in the hazel eyes that made the bowman step back.
“What you interrupted was a carefully planned suicide, made to look like an accident.” The magician stopped, one hand going to his broken arm. “I was tired then, brother. Of lies, of the hearsay, and most of all of the rest of our clan. I was truly sorry for what happened that day…” Now he folded his arms carefully before him, and even as the Ranger straightened, black eyes blazing, the two seemed completely equal. “But in no way am I sorry for what I am about to do.”

That said, Saedas threw himself at Maestro with all his weight, sending them both through a Mystic Door which he had spent the past minutes of the Ranger’s gloating and all his magical reserves to construct. Its destination, however, pointed not to a town but to a patch of air six hundred feet above the ground.

As he plummeted, his brother hurling curses at him as he grabbed at the front of the Priest’s Requiem, he thought he heard a female scream of “No!” from the clifftop.
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This is inhumanly bad. I pray for forgiveness and all manner of mercy from my readers. (/._.)/ I’M SO SORRY. I wrote this at 3:30am and it shows, it does. I’ve just pulled all these Deus Exs and last-minute soapie drama from THIN AIR! D< *stabs self*

But rest assured. There is a final arc in the Bandit’s Sin series: Coda, the concluding chapters of this insane rollercoaster ride. So, if you wish to see how badly this ends: tune in next time. <__< Actually, don’t. Save your eyes the pain and myself the embarrassment.