Annabelle’s Bastion

A dark room with blackened walls and floors, bearing no furniture, windows, or appliances. 

The only illumination came from the dim candle on the floor between the gathering of cloaked figures. And the only sound was that very flame.

That was how it had to be—the outside walls had eyes, and the wind carried whispers.

If one of the cloaked figures was captured, the rest would be doomed.

And that was why none in the room could see the others’ faces beyond their masks nor hear their voices beyond the modulators. Even their bodies were entirely obscured, much to the displeasure of some.

Their secrecy was absolute. 

Some would say they were overly paranoid, but questioning the status quo wasn’t something done lightly.

When they decided to go against the wishes of those in power, those who held indomitable power beyond what they could comprehend, they knew the extent they’d have to go to protect themselves.

That’s how their meetings started anyway—venting and coming up with minor plots. Those plots varied. But most were about causing minor inconveniences and petty problems to shake up authority. While it may seem childish and stupid, even pebbles could cause a ripple.

But things were changing, and Bastion was not headed in a good direction. Most of them knew how serious they had to become if they had any hope of correcting its course.

What started as a secret, nondescript gathering to oppose the decisions of those in power was becoming more. They could make plots, take wider action, and spread their individual influence. Underhandedly, of course. But they might have a real thing going. 

And so they took it a step further—descriptive masks to dawn new identities.

Nobody gave the group a name, though. That would be finalizing their rebellious act. A small step, but one that cemented their fates should they fail.

“Was that really all we could manage?” The voice, though modulated, came from a woman. Her mask was of a glossy, midnight-theme paint dotted with stars in the shape of a constellation with a moon on its forehead. Her moniker was thus Midnight, and she sounded quite displeased. “Allowing her to participate in the tournament without a Sigil? Absurd. None in that damn academy can beat her, not with the bitch behind her spoon-feeding her.”

“We hold little authority over the academy, Midnight,” argued a man. He wore a dark grey raven mask with a long beak and feathered edges. Simple, but it stood out. His tone was even, if not uncaring. “Unless someone in this room wishes to elaborate on their position.”

In other words, to reveal their identity. Something each of them was careful to keep as little crumbs in their speech as possible. Yet still, words hinted enough for them to get ideas. They were not used to such secrecy and did not trust each other, even if they were partners in crime.

None responded to Raven, save for a few scoffs.

He continued, “Precisely. Yet, I believe this will be enough.”

“Yep!” Came the, though slightly disguised, energetic voice of what sounded like a young woman—easily the youngest in the room. She wore a mask depicting a snake’s head with emerald-green scales across its surface and sandy-yellow eyes. Her name was Serpent. “Don’t be silly and underestimate those Earthlings! The longer you guys keep her without a Sigil, the greater the chance your seed can kill her. Oh, how’s that goin’ btw?” 

She knew how that went—she was mocking them.

Serpent was the most interesting among them, though not by virtue of her position nor by the power she wanted to keep private. It was much simpler; she was too childish yet had power. If any of them saw her in person, they’d instantly identify her. Even a clue could be used to easily discover her identity.

But Serpent didn’t care. In fact, she welcomed it. In her own words, if one of them found her, they would die. If she even suspected someone near her of being in the group, they would die. She had already killed a few for it—or so she claimed.

Whoever she was, she seemed much more extreme about not want her position discovered, even though it would be easy to do so.

Luckily for her, none in the room cared to search for her since their meeting in real life would create a discoverable connection between them.

“The seeds are growing magnificently, Serpent.” Even altered, the man’s voice sounded incredibly deep and hoarse. His mask was just matte black with ridges carved across it. He was Shadow. “I expected them to fail, but their failure was still a victory—we received time.”

“Tell me,” immediately came the next distorted voice of a young woman. Even hidden, her voice seemed graceful, and her posture confirmed that. But her mask was ivory bone, mimicking a skull but with a grinning jaw. She was Bone, and the mask choice was perhaps the most surprising thing for those there. She continued, curiously, “Why don’t we just... kill her?”

“Because we would be discovered quite easily, and I don’t think any of us want to become a martyr.” A man, that time, with his high-pitched, distorted voice. His mask was foggy grey with a smoky texture. His name, then, was Wraith. “It isn’t just Alisha batting for her—we’d attract eyes from people even above her. They hold power we can’t even comprehend. One wrong move, they find all of us, masks be damned.”

And he was correct—at least, that’s what everyone in the room believed without a shred of doubt. 

Nobody who has gone against the Council has ever survived, save for a single faction that was only rumored to exist somewhere in the universe. Nobody in that room would ever do that. After all, they needed Bastion each for their own reasons.

But more importantly, none considered themselves evil. 

The goal, then, was to either get the Council unanimously against her existence or to have another student kill her. But since one Council member was Alisha’s mother, the former wasn’t possible.

“We could try, but whoever does it would spend their life hiding in some backwater world.” That voice was altered to sound like a mix between a young man and a woman. They wore a dark-green mask with thorny, vine-like protrusions and red dots around like cherries on the vines. Their name was Rose.

“No thanks, we have so many other options before we fuckin’ kill ourselves.” The man speaking had a loud and aggressive voice, even altered. His mask depicted fiery rage—dark red with flame patterns coming in from the edges. He was Inferno. A name and theme that perhaps gave away too much of his possible identity. “What we should be worrying about is that weak ass core that showed up recently, Alisha and her mother are pushing for the academy to destroy it.” 

“This is a good thing, no?” Bone asked. “We may hate her connection with the cursed child, but getting this approved would be a boon for the academy.”

“I thought you were against that place, Bone,” said the 9th member, a woman with a pure white mask bearing no design. She was Phantom, a complete mystery to the group. “No?”

Bone lightly scoffed, offended by the accusation. “The academy is necessary for the greater good… for now.” That was an important distinction. “But Alisha wishes not to push Bastion forward but to push the few she selected. To her, the place is a tool for her people, not for our races the betterment of Bastion.”

“That’s an accusation!” Serpent said, giggling. ”I actually like Alisha, but I really, really don’t like her mom.” She said it like a child, but it contained a palpable, deep hatred.

A clue to her identity, perhaps. It was a fun pastime for most of them to guess identities without actually investigating them.

“You clearly don’t know the conniving bitch well enough,” Midnight added. She scoffed. “I would bet my life this attempt to gain the academy more resources is to get her seeds Sigils. We’ll see their little… field trip filled with her people.”

“A motive easily disguised,” Shadow added. “Because her seeds are magnificent.” Despite his distaste for the cursed child, he knew how talented she was. If Alisha gained access to the core, her protege would go, and it wouldn’t even be suspicious. 

But they couldn’t let the cursed child keep growing in strength. If not just because of her existence itself, then because her talent would be too big a boon for Alisha. It was a common ground—some hated the girl, some hated Alisha.

Even their overreaching effort to keep her from those combat classes probably wouldn’t change that. None there know which of them did that, but it was dangerous.

“But it isn’t just the cursed child, is it?” Rose asked knowingly. They had heard Alisha was fancying another and that her other prospect received far more significant attention. “Inferno, you said you received intel that she had a new toy?”

That was the secondary purpose of their meeting; Alisha never took any interest in proteges unless they were outstanding. Not just a little, but enough to shake the ranks. Hate her or love her, none could deny her tendency to find outstanding seeds.

“Yep. A girl small as one of them damn dwarf—weak—but with monstrous mana purity.” It was information he discovered through his own seeds. His were far more subtle, though. 

Those who mistook his fiery personality for bad intellect were bound to be surprised. He’d bet his information network was better than everyone else in the room.

“A forced supporter,” Shadow muttered, shocked. He felt a mix of pity and excitement for the young woman. But above that was a powerful desire—greed. “We cannot let Alisha soil her.” Even the idea enraged him as he said it.

“Too late,” Inferno said. He then chuckled. A boisterous and annoying laugh because of his alterations. 

“Annoying!” Serpent shouted. “Stop laughing, Fern!”

Wraith sighed. “Tell us what you know,” he said, his annoyance clear to all. “We agreed to keep these meetings brief. Do not dally.”

Who knew what sort of drain the spell was on their host? Wraith would rather stay on his good side.

“Sorry, sorry, but I could tell how excited good ol’ Shadow was, and I couldn’t fuckin’ help myself.” He chuckled again, briefly. He returned to serious immediately after. He said, “Alisha already has her goin’ down a hybrid path between combat and support.”

“WHAT?!” Shadow shouted, and his hand hit the wall to cause a loud bang.

“Calm yourself,” Phantom immediately rebuked. “Anger is unbecoming of you, Shadow.”

“And unpleasant,” Midnight said. “Control yourself.” She hoped his noise didn’t disturb their beloved host.

Shadow knew they were right. It was embarrassing for someone who considered himself the calm one. He took a deep, calming breath, but still continued with fervor, “Do you understand what having a high-purity supporter means? Any of you?”

“Of course,” Rose said.

“We aren’t stupid, Shadow,” Midnight added. 

“Yeah, Shady—don’t start lecturing us! I’ll leave!” 

“No, you fucking don’t,” he growled. He then turned his attention to Inferno. “How far into the path? I presume she’s only absorbed a supporting Sigil?”

“Yep.”

“Then we have time.” Shadow was relieved. They could make some kind of plan. Or, at least, he could. “We cannot allow her talent to be wasted, and we cannot allow Alisha to proceed with her god-awful plots.” They couldn’t allow her to gain that kind of pawn. Even as a hybrid, that kind of purity was worth hundreds of basic mages!

But if Shadow could get her down pure support? Perhaps even revival magic, a magic said to—even if it did exist—could only be used by someone with god-like purity. Most dismissed it’s existence…but not him.

“You’re absolutely right,” Midnight said. “But how can we possibly interfere in this regard?” 

Midnight knew what it meant for that supporter to be in Alisha’s camp. However, that high purity meant that targeting the child would result in terrifying consequences—assuming it was widespread knowledge. Yet another added to her problems. All because of Alisha.

“I... don’t know,” Shadow muttered helplessly.

Their hands were strictly tied. One of the foundational principles of Bastion was that everybody was free to choose their own path. The Grandmaster himself is the one who made that law. If they suspiciously tried to force the girl to absorb only support? None could bear the brunt of a supreme being’s anger.

Of course, should she be capable of reporting it, or if the other teachers found out.

“Gets worse, Shadow—for all of you, actually,” Inferno added, then paused long enough to be just short of an outburst from his peers. Before Shadow could erupt, he continued, “The cursed child and the pure girl are very close. Ironic, isn’t it?” Inferno loved to ruin the cool of those who tried their best to keep a calm facade. It was his favorite pastime. “Not only that, but she intends to support the cursed one during the tournament. Pretty much means the whole no Sigil thing is pointless. Wasted effort, taking all that risk for nothing.”

Shadow didn’t say anything, much to Inferno’s disappointment. 

But Shadow was furious! Everything was going how Alisha wanted; not only would she have a talented combatant, she’d have a supreme supporter. 

He bought them time? So what? The cursed child would win the tournament if someone of that high purity was with her. 

That could not happen.

Despite how much Shadow wanted that supporter, he recognized the importance of the cursed child dying. There was an order of things he had to follow.

“If one of our seeds wins the tournament,” Shadow finally said. “They would be able to kill the cursed one… That Apex Sigil must land in their hands.”  

Perhaps seeing the cursed child’s death would motivate the girl to take support seriously and ditch the foolish idea of a hybrid.

Shadow’s idea was simple; if the cursed child died, he could work on getting someone else closer to the supporter. 

He wasn’t as naive as to think it would be easy, but he had a while before the next round of free Sigils were handed out. More than enough time to work something else out.

“True,” Wraith agreed. “The tournament could mark the end of this chapter.” And they could move on to real issues.

“If you get rid of the supporter,” Serpent said. She was uncaring about the meaning behind the supporter’s existence. In fact, she barely cared about any of it. All that mattered was that Alisha’s mother’s position collapsed. Even if that meant poking a foundation until it collapsed. She was fine taking those insignificant steps.

“If we get rid of the support,” Raven corrected. “We are in this together now, Serpent. Your goal may be higher, but our paths align.” He wanted nothing more than to see the group become permanent, even in the future.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Serpent knew his ideal; it was one shared by some of the others. They wanted to make some kind of real shadow organization. How naive of them. But, well, it worked for her. They just needed to be a bit more mean and less cowardly.

“Our focus is then on keeping the supporter from aiding in the tournament.” Rose sighed. “I have no idea how we can do that.” 

For Rose, it represented one of the worst scenarios; both the cursed child and the supporter would get an Apex Sigil. That meant Alisha gained two more Apex Sigils solely for her factions use. Their job would only get harder.

“No, our focus is on that core,” Bone reminded. “With or without the supporter, the cursed one can get a powerful Sigil from it.”

“Don’t worry, I will have my seed—” Phantom started.

“Cutting short.” A non-distorted voice came, the voice of a man sounding older, yet deep and filled with power. It was cold, emotionless, and seemed to carry death. “Out of time.”

Even Serpent, the most unruly in the room, swallowed nervously when he spoke in slow, broken words. The man, even without a hidden voice, they couldn’t identify.

Everyone stayed silent, waiting for his next words.

He wore a mask of light and dark, an ominous mix of colors representing the two forces threatening to engulf the universe. One-half gold, the other black. 

That man, Eclipse, was the one who gathered them - a being whose every word carried the weight of war. 

“Eclipse, do you have an idea?” Phantom asked. She was heavily attracted to the mysterious man, and every time they met for their meetings, he’d only deepen that mystery. She was also the only one willing to start conversing with him.

“The supporter interests me. Core.” He paused. “Let them go.” Another pause. “The supporter will stay.” 

“Stay at the academy? How?” Serpent asked. “Alisha would never let that happen!”

“No.”

“What are you thinking, Eclipse?” Shadow asked. He did not like that ominous tone. Unlike the others, he knew that Eclipse was the most violent among them. The odd man had said before that he would be perfectly fine starting a rebellion just to kill the Council. He better not harm the supporter!

“Few weeks, we meet again. It will be clear.”

With that, his illusion shattered, dismissing the meeting.

That was one of his powers - projecting. 

The black room was his, and their forms were his. Everyone was given an object that allowed them to be pulled into the room whenever he opened it. If the object burned, it meant meeting time.

But he always dismissed it once he had the last word - he made it a point to not let anyone speak after him. His words marked the end of their meetings.

But this was the first time he indicated he had his own plan.