Usual disclaimer. Hey. So I decided I'm just going to go and write whenever I can and upload thereafter. I can't stick to a schedule write now, I have too many things going on in my life. I hope you guys understand :) Please keep reviewing, it really does help me get the motivation to write. With that said, enjoy this chapter! ALSO WE HIT 10,000 VIEWS. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. I LOVE YOU.

"Otho, I am sick and tired of waiting for you to take responsibility for your element!" Chara, the water Goddess, argued with the God of Fire.

"My element?! Your element has people leaving from it too!" he cried back at her. He looked around the table incredulously. The short haired God looked around at his fellow Gods and Goddesses.

"In fact, people from all the elements have been leaving. Just because my element has the most people leaving does not mean that I am the only one to fault. As Gita can confirm, I can't convince a normal mortal to stay. I'd burn their soul before I even got a chance to speak," he said. He looked over to Gita, who was sitting just outside the conference. She stepped forward.

"He is right. As you all well know, one has to have an elevated consciousness in order to speak with a God. Many in the Order do not possess such a thing; therefore, it is true. Otho can do nothing to stop people of Fire from leaving," Gita said. Plinius looked to Horatius.

"Your thoughts on this, as the God of Death?" he asked, exasperation clear in his voice. Horatius stood, his fingers pressing down into the table as he leaned over ominously.

"The souls that I have collected as of late seem… troubled. Worried, I might say. Amira Jabari, when she came through the Veil, said an ugly storm was brewing. She said that these events were the cause of something not…," he glanced over at Gita.

"You must leave, Gita. Your ears are not ready for this news—but know this: a force reawakening will return soon, and ink shall submerge the lungs."

Gita was plunged back to reality.

Every once in a while, she was able to call upon the Gods in a trance-like state when she was praying, and today was one of those days. She wanted—no, needed—answers. She clenched her fists tightly at the thought that Horatius dismissed her so easily, knowing full well that she should have heard what he was saying too.

Gita.

Her eyes snapped open quickly, looking around for a source of the sound but to know avail.

It is Floriana, child. Do not fret.

Gita relaxed instantly, comforted by the Goddess's voice.

"What is it you require of me, dearest Floriana?" Gita said. Of all the Gods, Floriana had been of the most help as the years had gone, helping guide her through the trials and tribulations of leadership.

You must speak to Noa. He has awakened, and it would be to your benefit to speak to him. Whether he will give you his information or not, you must find out. Ink is present, Gita. Be careful that you do not drown in it.

Gita rose from her place immediately, ignoring the protesting that her bones were giving her from sitting in one position for so long. She knew what she needed to do. As she walked out of the prayer room, blowing out the flames with air from her fingertips, she picked up a deliberate pace toward the Medical Ward.

"Milady!" a deep voice boomed. The figure of Dr. Faucheux came into view, a tall, broad shouldered man with chestnut hair and a clean-shaven face. Her black eyes connected with his hazel gaze.

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked.

"It appears that Noa will be alright," he said, "there were only minor wounds, and the worst to come of his condition was a concussion caused by impact to his temple." Gita breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is he awake, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid not. He needs to rest for another day before he even has a chance of becoming conscious, Milady," he said. She grimaced, lips curling downward.

"Alright. The moment he wakes up, I need to be informed, David. Understood?" It was less of a question and much more of a demand. He nodded.

"Understood."

"Alright Papa, ready?" Elsa said, smiling. She, Anna and her father had made their way down to Arendelle to view the second exhibit of the season. Around this time of the year, artists started making their debuts for the season; this one would be no different. There were several works whom she enjoyed: Kal Kinderson, Jack Nilfe, Rod Pöltin, etc. There was one man, though, that was both her and her father's favorite.

Josh Harper.

American born, he often expressed his thoughts on the world with his sculptures. There was one sculpture, in particular, that made her love his work above everyone else's: Globe on Fire. He sculpted a globe and put red, yellow and orange lights at different angles to illuminate it. When asked what it meant, he said there was two meanings.

"One, that I think that the world is becoming consumed by hatred in certain areas, and the burning of fury and the coldness of mistreatment come together to display that. The second, however, is that this is what goes on in my head. My world, the world inside of my brain, is constantly burning with new ideas, with better ideas, with thoughts, with wishes. I wanted to convey that here," he said.

Elsa found that to be the day she truly understood his work. She began crafting sculptures like that when she could, exposing her brain space in order to free her mind of bad thoughts, even in the most minuscule of ways.

"Elsa?" Her father called, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned to look at him, his ashen skin not seeming so grey today, and the tank that he had now looking lighter than usual.

"Yes, Papa?" She asked. He smiled at her kindly, taking her hand in his as he looked forward toward the exhibit.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand in response.

Anna had gone on ahead, be it because she was fascinated by the sculptures or that she wanted Elsa and Agdar to have some alone time Elsa couldn't be sure. Maybe it was a little of both.

"Your mother and I had our first date at one of these exhibits, you know," Agdar said softly. There was a small grin gracing his lips. "January 23, 1993. James Gotzinski was the featured artist. He was a revolutionary of his time; the Josh Harper of the early 90s. It amazes me how non-Elementals can achieve with just their hands." He turned to Elsa, who was mulling over the fact that she and Anna had had their first date at the Ice Music Festival in Geilo.

"You mother was wearing a purple sweater that night, with black jeans and a pair of converse. She was never a flashy person, not even back in her youth," he said. A beat. "Elsa, I need you to promise me something." She glanced his way.

"Be strong, my girl. I fear that my end is going to be sooner rather than later," he said. Her eyes misted over. He shook his head. "Tonight is a happy occasion, my dear. Cry not." She sniffed and dabbed her tear ducts, nodding. Anna came back then, smile wide.

"Guys, I found this wonderful artist named Josh Harper. His piece… It's outright stunning," she said. Noticing Elsa's odd behavior, she made eye contact and sent her a gaze that said 'are you ok?'. Elsa mouthed the word later and Anna nodded. For now, that was enough.

"Now come on, let's go see him!" They walked over at a steady pace, one that was quicker but not enough to strain Agdar's lungs. They stopped at a few ice sculptures along the way, marveling in the intricate detail put in. Eventually they reached Harper's exhibit, a series of three statues entitled Ozymandias. The first was of a man, presumably a Egyptian pharaoh , standing tall and proud, a look of cruelness set upon his face as his staff resided on the platform of ice below him. The detail was incredible, every wrinkle in his face present and every ripple of muscle shown. The next showed what was supposedly half of the same statue, and finally only the legs in the last sculpture.

A man came up beside Elsa as she marveled at the works, wondering the piece before her. His face was shielded by the white cloth of his hoodie.

"Have you heard the poem Ozymandias, miss?" His deep voice said, starting Elsa out of her thoughts. She turned to him and shook her head, wondering why his voice sounded vaguely familiar. "Well, dear, it goes as follows:"

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

The man pushed back his hood, revealing copper skin and long black hair. Elsa knew that face somewhere, somehow. He looked over to her with kind brown eyes, a small smile cracking his visage.

"I made these sculptures in the hopes to represent my view on what is happening in my native country, with the leader we currently have," he said, distaste crinkling his nose. "Or for any leader that gets drunk on power, for that matter." Then it clicked in Elsa's brain.

"You're Josh Harper?!" She exclaimed. He chuckled and nodded.

"Not so loud, please. And I'd prefer if you'd call me by my true name, Cha'Tima," he said, "I take pride in my Hopi blood, when no one is looking."

While she didn't understand what he meant, she shook his hand.

"What is… Hopi? And why do you go by Josh Harper?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not everyone in this world likes me, my friend. I am called Josh Harper for safety reasons. And the Hopi are a Native American Nation, from the United States. I was once one of them," Cha'Tima said. Her father came up to the pair and introduced himself to Cha'Tima, complimenting his works and asking the meaning behind them.

"Ozymandias, huh?" Agdar said, "Ramesses II, as he is otherwise known. Had power through the fear that he instilled upon others. I wonder, then, if he was truly powerful or just a scary man?"

Elsa wondered that likewise.

Agent C:

Hello my friend. It has been too long since we have spoken. You have been well, I should hope.

After careful consideration by myself and the Council, we have decided to invite you to join our ranks. You, being a man in power, would immediately have an elevated position, being placed in our diplomatic sector. With this opportunity, you would report to us the whereabouts of Elementals in your country and talk to leaders of other nations to try and persuade them to join our side in the upcoming circumstances.

Upon receiving this letter, which I would assume to be on 13 December, I would like to receive an answer within a fortnight on your decision. Think on this offer, and if it appeals to you, we will work out the other benefits of your position upon your decision.

Signed,

King Rí

Claude put the letter down on his desk and leaned back in his soft leather chair, the only sound present the crackling of the fireplace. He turned to it, the orange flames reflecting in his irises as he thought.

"Heavenly Father above, hear my prayer: guide me to the correct choice in this matter: the matter of removing sorcery that offends your name. I wish to join the King's Ranks, but is it the wisest choice? In this, I am not certain."

He sunk a little further into his chair, liking the comfort it provided him. He released a breath, deflating a little as he tapped his foot on the floor. Nobody disturbed him at this hour of the night, not even his wife. He would have time to think throughout the evening, but for now, he had more important matters to attend to.

She kept popping up, and he could not remove her from his life. An idea sprung across his head, and he smiled sickeningly, turning back to his desk and picking up a pen quickly.

"My dear, your time is done."

"Milady!" A voice cried to Gita. Her head snapped from the papers she was signing up to an out of breath Vishal, his Chest heaving as if he had ran from one side of Temple to the other.

"Yes, Vishal?" She asked. His eyes connected with hers.

"My cousin has awakened."

A/N: I am sorry (jk lol) for the cliff hanger. I don't often do one, so I can have my fun every once in a while. I love you guys, thanks for sticking with me :)

And now, for the reviews! (thanks to everyone who fav'd, followed, reviewed and PM'd this time. Y'all kick ass!)

Strazsa: 1. It's supposed to be. Tension always has a resolution, no?

2. What can ya do? I'm just trying to get writing done between school and scholarships and my school's band and work… Time is limited, and the people that do review keep me going.

3. Hey man, it's ok. I appreciate the reviews that are given, and trust me, I check them and they keep me going. I just haven't had time to post this yet, that's all.

PenguinVuelve: Now you know :) no worries, all that matters is that you reviewed :)

TheMythRider: thanks! Tell Birger I said hi, would you?

Soybean16 (on ch.4): thank you for the constructive criticism. I'll keep that in mind in future chapters.

Alright guys, I'll see you next time! ~ Burns