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If Blue Magic is to be yours, Immortal, much is asked of you. You must consider this ten times over: A superior to whom you owe a great debt orders you to act in a way that violates your sense of justice.

          Raubahn awoke.
          Raubahn realized he lived.
          Standing up, the vaunted Commander of the Immortal Lions recognized his better and removed his keffiyeh.
          “You are a strange one, Seraph. You control your power completely. You may be strong enough to see what the purpose of the Empire truly is. You came to us on your own. You harnessed this power on your own.”
          “You are the arbiter of your fate, Z. Seraphim. You are a Master of Ambition.”
          Raubahn replaced his Keffiyeh. “I could use you at my side. Would you stay and help the Empire grow?”
          Seraph laughed mightily. “No, Raubahn.”
          Raubahn laughed too. “I did not think so. Go your own way. You need not my blessing, but you have my respect. I hope you ever and always remain true to your form.”
          Seraph bowed. He threw another bottle of the potion he had earlier consumed to Raubahn. Seizing a Warp scroll the Elvaan Immortal… no, Blue Mage, set out to return to whence he came.
          “Oh… Raubahn… Sorry about the palace.”
          And then Seraph was gone.

          After returning to the palace Raubahn saw the damage Seraph had done, and apologized for so thoroughly. Raubahn was thankful for having got off relatively easily, but ready to take him on again for the affront to his reputation, the palace, and the potential safety of the Empress herself. Such actions, especially those in Immortal guise, fell upon his head. It would take some time to explain fully the circumstances, if Raubahn felt inclined at all. Unless commanded he was reluctant to do so.
          Yasfel had been sent a short time after Seraph to the Jade Sepulcher, and had been vulnerable to the outer reaches of Seraph’s final attack. Dragged back to palace separately in a critically wounded state, Raubahn returned unaware of his subordinates’ presence. The thorough saturation of energy as well as Yasfel’s redoubled injuries left him at death’s door, and without Seraph’s healing. While ailing himself, Raubahn used the potion to keep Yasfel going until the medics arrived.
          All this was exacerbated by the bill tabulated by the royal treasurer for repairs.
          However, it was at this time that Galadar crossed the view of Raubahn. He look uncharacteristically dour. While quite serious he always seemed to be enjoying himself, even if in a twisted way and at the expense of himself and the environment. Inquiring to the treasurer, Raubahn was regaled with how Galadar was humiliated and forced to transport Seraph to the battle site. Looking to Galadar, the damages, and then to the bottom line on the treasurers papers, Raubahn signed in the debtors column as the responsible party to pay the 30,000 Imperial Gold pieces to cover the damages, and out of his personal coffers.
          Raubahn was pleased that one of his Immortals, even the most far flung of them, had taken the blowhard Flameserpent General down a peg. The Immortal commander was forced to wonder if his act as Waoud gave him enough experience to convince Galadar that all Blue Magic users could “eat a Firaga spell like an apple”, as the treasurer had put it. It might serve to keep Galadar in line if he thought it was a trait inherent to all Immortals.


          Seraph wound up back in Bastok. He replaced the Moghat linkpearl.
          “Well?” came Shoro’s voice.
          “I got him” Seraph replied. A roll of congratulations came in.
          A small thought tickled at Seraph’s brain. He couldn’t place it.
          As if in reply a Shoro began speaking to him directly so only he would hear. “So… is it time?”
          Seraph paused. “…time?”
          “Weren’t you the one who was going to go after Saint in Abyssea?”

          Shoro was right. He’d gained enough power to reclaim vengeance on Raubahn. Having done that what stood in his way now? He’d held his own, he was at least strong enough to begin looking.
          “If you can make it here, I’m in a party now” Shoro said, breaking into Seraph’s thoughts. “I’ll hold a spot open for you. How quick can you get here?”
          Seraph smiled one more. “I’m coming for you Saint” Seraph said aloud, Makar flailing excitedly behind him. “I’ll be there in just a few minutes, Shoro.”

~”A superior to whom you owe a great debt asks you in away that violates your sense of justice.”
Seraph recalled his friends from San d’Oria.
“I would still follow my own way. A debt can still be repaid.

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