Vernal Chevalier knew that the Princess-General was aware of his presence, but he didn't worry. As long as she thought he had accomplices, he would be fine.
Vernal didn't have an army. He hadn't had anyone in years. The former bandit didn't know what was worse: the fact that everyone he'd ever loved had left him, or that deep down he knew he deserved it.
He was mentally ill. Whenever something shocked him, another self took over. His other self was amoral, cruel, and went to monstrous lengths to get what he wanted. The longest he'd ever gone without losing sanity was the year and a half he'd spent traveling with Naeva Zero, the wonderful girl he'd saved when he was twelve.
Then she'd noticed. She'd caught on to the way he looked at things, how he started to lose himself, how his powerful intellect suddenly focused dangerously on whatever his other side had noticed. Upon realizing how dangerous Vernal was, Naeva had run away.
His rational side, or what was left of it, was glad. He was glad she hadn't gotten hurt by the creature in his soul. Unfortunately, that side had very little control when Residual (as he'd taken to calling his other side) made a decision.
So he'd run after her. In his rage, he'd attacked Naeva countless times over the course of several years, using the abnormal abilities with which he'd been born to survive the things she threw at him. All the while, whenever he took refuge with a Baykok clan, his rational side took over, managing to convince Residual that this was equally important. So it was that while Residual hunted Naeva, Vernal's true self was seeking out the stones of the old cults' Temple of Change.
Vernal had been born half-Gefroren. It was why his hair lay down unlike any Finstrese locks. While he wasn't familiar with the runes themselves, he knew the stories, as told by his father. Said father was a bandit leader in Finster, but he'd loved Vernal's mother and respected her memory enough to tell Little Vernal the stories he'd heard from her. The Talein were powerful beings from another plane of reality, who could only directly interact with the world through humans who called them. Some called them gods, though they denied this title according to the legends.
That was fine. Vernal didn't need a god. He just needed change. He'd found every rune that looked right, and the other lieutenant, an avid linguist, had the ones he was missing. He'd been studying, and with the help of the prince's notes, he was ready to call the Talein of Change.
The moment he'd started practicing the words (separately, not as a spell), he'd felt something in the air shake. Minutes later, a dragon had appeared outside Phazan. Vernal and the other lieutenants had been placed on city defense while Luisa took most of their forces to attack the dragon. With everyone out, this provided the space he needed to get to his study and finally complete the necessary preparations.
Bless her, Vernal thought. Residual responded with a string of expletives describing what exactly he thought of the princess-general.
He was so close. With the help of the Talein of Change, he could get rid of the psychotic personality that continuously overcame him. Somehow Residual didn't seem to mind the idea. As long as Vernal didn't bore him, the psychotic side never interfered.
Turning a page, Vernal made a few notes and left the linguist's office. He had the pronunciation guide, and he'd just swiped the last few stones he needed.
Paper and notebook under his arm, Vernal stepped out and made his way to the other study. I just need one more minute, and I'll be free!
Good luck, Residual thought, using a creepily cheerful tone that made it difficult to tell if he was being sarcastic.
Vernal rounded the last corner and found himself face-to-face with First Lieutenant Clemens. Elias glared at him, and it occurred to Vernal that he was in worse trouble than usual.
Elias Clemens also had a split personality. There was his personable side, which was seen most often around the palace, but sometimes here and sometimes on the battlefield, his rougher side surfaced.
They worked together in a way that Vernal truly envied, but sometimes he swapped abruptly, seemingly hijacking his own body. Vernal hoped this was the unexpected type; the lieutenant shifting by choice would mean that Clemens was actually angry with him.
"What are you doing inside, man?" Elias demanded, his voice gruffer than usual. "You should be outside, manning the crossbows!"
You should be doing to same, you old hypocrite! Residual jabbed, trying to come forward, but Vernal held him back and said, "Sorry, sir. I remembered something that could help against the dragon. I promise I'll be but a few minutes."
Elias growled quietly, but then he sighed. "If you're not out fighting within ten minutes, you're sleeping outside for the month. Understood?"
I'm more comfortably sleeping outside anyway, both sides thought, but Vernal nodded. "Yes, sir. I won't be long."
He was telling the truth, actually. With Residual gone, he could put his whole focus into helping for once.
He opened the paper he'd written and began to read his notes on pronouncing the runes. Making sure to enunciate and read the right runes, Vernal said in a strong but quiet voice, "Kraftur, Stjórna, Hrun, Frelsi, Yfirráð, Ákvörðun, Koma, Óveður, Guð." The ninth word in Adrean's notes had been different, but Vernal had been at this for years. The kid had to be mistaken. "Pattukamo, Anord."
A hush fell over the room, leaving Vernal wondering if he'd done it right. He could still hear Residual's thoughts, so he didn't know if the Talein had been summoned or not.
The room disappeared, leaving Vernal in an ashen waste. Confused, he looked around. In his studies, it had just said that the merge would happen instantly. This was new.
Something formed out of the ash. Its joints (assuming a creature made of ash even had those) cracked sickeningly as it stood, and its eyes glowed orange, the ash seemingly returning to a state of ember in that spot alone. The rest constantly flaked apart and reformed from the ash in the ground. When it made eye contact with Vernal, it grinned with a hollow mouth.
"Are... Are you the Talein of Change?" Vernal asked, distinctly uncomfortable.
The creature ignored his question, turning the glowing coals to the side. A swipe of its arm tore a window into the air, providing a view of the battle with the dragon. The dragon seemed to be doing more watching than fighting, so no one had been injured since its first attack.
"So close..." Anord whispered in a horrible, scratching voice, placing a hand on the window. "So close so close so close so close...!" He hissed as several bolts of lightning fired from the ground. "Useless creatures, use your own ability, stolen powers are just a crutch, it's stupid stupid stupid stupid..."
He waved a crumbling hand, and all the lightning stopped. Every fire went out. The Talein looked at his hand, which now glowed as if he was holding that fire that had incinerated this realm, and he picked a small spark from the glow. "Except you. You interest me, you can keep yours. Not the rest of you." He flicked the spark through the window. His body glowed with an inner flame as he hissed, "Learn to fight like your ancestors did, useless race..." Turning to look in Vernal's general direction while the window closed, he said, "As for you, whoever is doing that, keep it up keep it up I'm almost in your world... So close... So, so close..."
Horrified, Vernal took a step away from the Talein. This creature was not hiding its intentions. If he merged with this creature, it would completely hijack his free will and use his body to destroy as much as possible before Vernal was killed.
The creature's head tilted completely sideways with an audible snap. "You do not want to? You called me, I'm already close, you can't stop me from merging, so close..." He reached out a burnt hand towards Vernal. "I haven't had a body in so long, so close..."
Using an instinct he didn't know he had, Vernal raised his hands out and pushed on the realm itself, moving himself back. Anord lunged at him with a shriek, a horrible, bone-chilling sound that Vernal could only barely imagine, but the man quickly shoved himself backwards just before Anord could touch him, back into the Physical Realm.
He stumbled back and hit a bookcase in his study, crashing painfully to the ground. Ignoring the pain, Vernal stared at the ceiling, panting heavily. He didn't know what Anord was, but he knew that it was not the Talein of Change. This was something different, one that he swore to himself he would never mention by name again.
As if to spite his promise, the last traces of Anord in his mind gleefully hissed, "I am the Talein of the Frenzy, thank you for this piece, thank you thank you, I will use it well..."
Residual had been shocked speechless, but Vernal knew that he couldn't get rid of him for long. He'd respond the moment he felt he was needed. Or if Vernal addressed him, or if he got bored.
He'll probably start talking here in a moment, just to annoy me, Vernal thought irritably. He braced himself, and... Nothing. No voices, not even the slightest hint that Residual was there.
Vernal stood up and walked cautiously out of the palace. By the time he arrived, he didn't see any signs of the dragon. Instead, the army fought against a large Cerberus pack, with over a dozen dead Zodiacs fading into the ground.
Once again, he braced himself for a horrible comment or uncontrollable impulse, but once again, he felt nothing. He searched his mind. Residual wasn't there.
Vernal was finally free.
A grin spread across his face as he rushed to join the fight. For once, he could help people his own way.