“So did everything go like you wanted?” Celine asks, floating around on a broomstick.
Finian sits at his desk looking over a stack of papers. Each one a detailed report profiling of each of the remaining candidates. He smiles, placing a stack of paper down with an image of Glyn at the top of the stack.
“Oh, I have everything I need. It’s almost time we make our move and end this war.”
“What's not sad about having to fight your precious siblings?” She mocks him as he stands up.
He shakes his head. “It was inevitable. That man is ambitious, so it’s a given that his children also hold a desire for glory. I have to imagine it was always meant to end this way.”
“If you say so. Shame, though I wanted the fighting to go on for a little longer.”
“Scared it’s already over?”
“Well, yeah. With our fortress, we can stampede all over those fools. They don’t have anything on them that can oppose us.”
“I don’t know about that. Some of them may surprise you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say. Well, any plans?”
“I want to host a party.”
She stumbles, nearly falling from her broom. “Repeat that!”
“I want to host a party.”
“Why!?”
“Come on, we completed a major feat. We’ve slain a Demon and saw the birth of a new Sacred Weapon. That alone is worth celebrating. But we can also celebrate all of us making it to the final round. Maybe we can end this war at the dinner table and not on the battlefield.”
She pouts. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, where are you even planning to host this thing?”
“Here, of course.”
“Our main base!?” She lowers herself to the ground and stomps up towards him. “You're not planning to lose intentionally, right? You didn’t forget our promise, right?”
He nods. “I have never and never will forget the promises I’ve made to you and the others. You're my special allies; the ones I have faith in above all else.”
“Fine, whatever.” She sighs. “As long as you remember your promise.”
He nods. “Now let’s prepare for a party. I have to get it cleared with the Shadows first, but this ceasefire is still ongoing, so it should be fine.”
“Whatever. Let’s think about the menu. How about some baked goods? Everyone must be sick of fish by now.”
He nods as he takes up the stack again. “Maybe I should do some reading about everyone’s preferences?”
“Why can’t we do what we want?”
“Come now, Celine, we have to be gracious hosts. Like I said, if we can end things at the dinner table, then that would be preferable to this ongoing conflict.” He says, looking through the papers again. “But I should arrange a cake. Everyone loves some sweet treats, especially in this heat.”
“Oh, that’s a delightful idea. Something like a desert bar.” She says.
Finian looks up with a smirk on his face. “I wonder what our new quest, looking in the shadows, thinks.”
“Huh?”
A cloaked figure leaps down from above, a Shadow, covered head to toe. They pull out a knife and lunge towards Finian, who doesn’t move an inch. He simply stares at them as the knife comes closer, piercing his chest as his blood spills across the floor.
“Finn!” Celine yells out, her voice echoing through the room.