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From atop his perch, Maotelus had seen a lot over the last few hundred years. As he had witnessed for himself, times had changed a lot since he'd been that little Malak with his will sealed away, before he'd eventually come into his own. The world had grown more chaotic, even with the rise and fall of various Shepherds and Lords of Calamity over the years. The thought was still a sobering one. The position that Velvet had embraced, whether she'd liked being acknowledged as such or not, had been taken over by another person years after she had sacrificed herself. This wasn't at all what she would have wanted. His heart ached for her, still locked in an infinite loop with Innominat, but he knew he couldn't do anything for her. All he could do was look skyward and hope that, whatever she must have been dreaming, it was a good dream. With how long she had been gone, though, the dark thought that she might as well have been considered dead crossed his mind. Maotelus had to give his mighty head a shake, shifting back and forth slightly as he did. Velvet wasn't dead. She was just resting. Eternally.
That line of thought didn't do him any good, unfortunately. Maotelus had indeed seen a lot of changes over the years, some of which had to do with his friends. The first of which had to do with Eleanor. He remembered the redhead fondly, from her sticktoitiveness to her gentle nature that had come out as they'd gotten to know her. She and the others had visited as often as they could, but after she had gained the position of Shepherd the visits from her had become fewer and farther between. Maotelus understood why that was, of course. Eleanor had gained a new job and needed to help ensure the people of the world knew that there would be calm at the end of the chaos. He'd believed full heartedly in her abilities. After all, she'd proven herself to be a competent fighter. As the years passed, though, he heard less and less about her. Maotelus had just thought it was because she was so busy. However, one day, Magilou, Rokurou, and Eizen had arrived with sombre expressions.
"I'm sorry, Maotelus," Rokurou had said. "Eleanor passed away the other night. She... won't be coming to visit you anymore."
Maotelus could still remember the terrible ache he felt when he learned that she, Eleanor the gentle Shepherd, had died from old age. In a way, Maotelus was grateful that she hadn't been lost to combat. He was even more grateful that she had been able to take down the Lord of Calamity that had risen up in her time without worry. That hadn't eased the ache in his heart, though. Maotelus had grown particularly close to Eleanor over the course of journeying with Velvet. It wasn't just because she had been his vessel, though he'd be lying if he said that wasn't a part of it. She was kind, and gentle, and even though she was stubborn and a terrible liar he had really grown to care for her. Besides, she had been the one to give him his true name. He wouldn't have been Maotelus without her, he imagined. So, when the news had come, he had cried. He wished he could have attended the funeral, but... Eizen had put it best. An Empyrean showing up to mourn Shepherd Eleanor would have caused quite a bit of chaos. The exact opposite, in other words, of what she would have wanted.
For a long while after that, there had been peace. Rokurou in particular had been working hard behind the scenes, so to speak, to keep the daemon population in check. Maotelus was proud of his friend. He knew that ever since Shigure had fallen to Rokurou's blade, the last remaining Rangetsu had lacked a serious opponent. So he'd traveled the lands, taking out daemons of all sorts to improve his skill and seek a new worthy foe to best. From what he heard, Rokurou had taken to traveling the land as it shifted and changed in the name of his quest. A mighty rumble of laughter had escaped Maotelus when he first learned this. He could so easily imagine Rokurou doing just that.
That hadn't stopped Rokurou from stopping by every now and then, of course. He always had new stories to tell about daemons he'd felled. Every time, though, Rokurou had always said that he wished he could find that new foe to fill Shigure's shoes. Maotelus suggested that no one could fill his brother's shoes. Rokurou had laughed at that. There had to have been someone, and Maotelus had settled with that thought.
Maotelus shifted where he sat, letting the thoughts continue to wash over him again and again. He didn't like thinking about this. However, the more he thought about Eleanor and Rokruou the harder it became for him to sit still. He gave his wings a flap to try and settle himself. However, the thoughts still came.
Rokurou had stopped coming by a couple hundred years ago. It was Eizen who stopped by to deliver the news, tired as he looked. Magilou had been sluggish that day, but she had come as well. Maotelus could still see himself leaning forward as though it would make the news easier to digest. He remembered the pain in Eizen's eyes, both from the years of fighting malevolence within him and what he had to say.
Rokurou... he died doing what he loved, Maotelus thought. It wasn't fair, he let the thought continue. His friend, a force of will all his own and tied to honor and upholding debts, had been slain in battle with daemons. The ending was fitting for him, and Maotelus knew it, but it still didn't make it right. If he just could have been there! If he just could have offered some kind of healing, then maybe Rokurou would still be with them. Who would talk about the differences in sword techniques and argue about beetles with him now, he had wondered.
Maotelus sniffed, forcing himself out of the train of thought again as tears trickled down his scaly cheeks. He knew he wasn't the same small Malak who once had served Lady Teresa. He knew he wasn't a small child anymore. That didn't mean he couldn't feel for the loss of his friends, though, right? Rokurou and Eleanor were dead. Velvet was locked away, far beyond the reaches of his help. Never before had he felt so helpless and lonely. Shepherds who had come and gone since Eleanor's time in the position would come to receive the blessing of his silver flame. They used it to fight daemons, much the same as Rokurou would just throw himself at the daemons and fight to the last breath. That thought only succeeded in making Maotelus feel worse, though. He jerked his head back and forth, frustrated at himself and trying his hardest to keep from crying. Rokurou had passed years ago. He shouldn't have still been torn up about it, right? But...
He was my friend! Just like Eleanor! Just like Velvet! Just like...
Oh, cruel fate. The cruel march of time... not even Magilou had been safe from it. His gut twisted. Why was his mind taking him on this journey today, he wondered. He knew how cruel time was. It never slowed, never stopped, and it certainly was not merciful when it came to taking people away from those they loved. Maotelus hated it.
His mind drifted back to Magilou whether he wanted it to or not. Over the years, Maotelus had noticed a change in Magilou. At first, in the years immediately following Velvet's disappearance, he had taken notice of her continually writing in a little book. She'd told him not to worry about its contents. They were important, whatever they were, and so he trusted her judgment. One day, though, she no longer had the book with her. That was the first day Maotelus had noticed a change in her appearance. She had looked more tired that first day, he noticed. She also seemed more mature somehow. She'd told him not to worry in that typical Magilou way. The nonchalance was something that Maotelus missed. He knew deep down that Magilou cared a lot more than she let on, but her nonchalance had been comforting. Something he had grown accustomed to in the many years he had known her.
He remembered how, on a day sometime after Rokurou had died, Bienfu had beaten her to the meeting spot. The Normin had begged Magilou to rest, but she had insisted on continuing on. By then, she looked as much of an elder as Melchior had. That, and the fact she had lived that long, had really made Maotelus realize what had been going on. Bienfu had explained it regardless. The book she had written detailed the truth of what Velvet had done, and by revealing it? Magilou had broken a vow of sorts. That broke the seal on her aging spell and forced her into embracing her inevitable old age, and death, bit by bit.
She had ultimately gone the same way as Eleanor. Old age. Yet another mark on Maotelus' ever growing list of reasons to hate being immortal himself. How long would this continue on, he had wondered. Why did he have to keep hearing about his friends dying one after another? The last one left was...
Eizen. But for how long?
The last time Maotelus had seen Eizen, he'd been with Zaveid and a human he didn't recognize. Eizen informed him that the human was the next Shepherd, and that he and Zaveid would be traveling alongside him to stop the Lord of Calamity that had risen up. Maotelus' heart leapt when he had learned the news. Maybe Zaveid and Eizen had put their differences aside. Maybe, he'd thought naïvely, there would be no need for the two of them to fulfil that promise from so long ago. However, when he'd seen the way Zaveid and Eizen interacted, his stomach had dropped. The two still had a tense relationship. Of course they did, he realized. Zaveid hadn't forgotten what Eizen had done to Theodora. That meant that neither of them had forgotten the promise they had made so long ago. With a heavy heart, Maotelus had blessed the new Shepherd with the silver flame.
Maotelus remembered wishing the journeying party good luck on their quest, and that was the last time he remembered seeing Eizen. Now that he thought on it, Maotelus realized that really hadn't been all that long ago. A few months? Maybe? Truth be told, he had lost track of time a while back. So much had changed. Malaks were Seraphs now. Daemons were hellions. Some things still did remain the same, and he could take solace in that fact. Still, his mind was full of sorrow and worry. His last friend, the sole survivor of their original traveling party, had been gone for so long. What if something had happened and he wasn't there to see? Maotelus wanted to go forth and search, but he stopped himself. The people of the world, especially those who had a firm belief in him, expected him to stay where he was. They expected him to continue doing his duty. Therefore, he couldn't just fly off in search of Eizen, Zaveid, and the Shepherd they had chosen to journey with. Again, the feeling of helplessness washed over Maotelus.
He wished he could be small, innocent little Laphicet again. Deep down he still was, but he wished with all his heart that he could reverse time. So he could still be with everyone he cared for and keep them from being ripped away.
All of a sudden, Maotelus was jerked out of his thoughts by a mighty roar sounding in the distance. The alabaster dragonlike Empyrean jerked his head up in time to see a large dark brown dragon soaring across the sky. Maotelus' heart sank. No... that couldn't be. Surely it couldn't! Again and again, Maotelus begged for the contrary to be the case. The longer he looked at that horrid spiked dragon, though, the longer familiar features of a specific jacket come to mind. The way the dragon's spikes went along his back reminded Maotelus all too well of Eizen's jacket. For a heartbeat, the dragon looked his way. Maotelus' eyes locked with the other scaled creature and a gasp escaped him. Though the dragon's eyes were gold, quite unlike Eizen's intimidating sky blue, the gold did remind Maotelus of Eizen.
Now he was certain.
"Eizen!" Maotelus screamed. "Eizen!!" If Eizen heard him, he chose not to respond. All Maotelus could do was watch his old friend heading toward the mountains in the distance. Was... that where Eizen's sister lived, he wondered. What about Zaveid? Had he made an attempt on Eizen's life like he swore he would? If he had, then why was Eizen still alive? Had Eizen killed Zaveid before the wind Seraph had gotten a chance?
Whatever the case, it was too late for his former pirate friend. He remembered vividly the times he and Eizen had talked about this sort of thing. Once a Malak... Seraph turned into a dragon, there was no going back. Now Maotelus wished all the more he had acted on his desire to use his flame on Eizen. He had known Eizen wouldn't want him to do it, but he would have risked getting beaten up for it if it meant keeping Eizen as himself a while longer. Was any of Eizen's old self still left in that dragon body, or was it really just too late for him?
Maotelus slammed his scaly fist into the ground and choked on his grief. Now, for all intents and purposes, all of his friends truly were gone. Three were definitely dead, Velvet might as well have been, and Eizen would soon join them. He knew Zaveid would keep his oath if he was still alive to do it.
Why? The thought came hard and fast. Why can't I do anything? I'm an Empyrean! Why do I have to keep living while the people I cared about die?!
He'd never get an answer. All he could do was continue to watch and protect the world as, one by one, day by day, those he cared about went on without him.