Dancing in Shadows and Firelight

[Zizikitty]

It was the future or so she was told. But it didn't matter as the technology was so vastly different the life she was born with but then stolen away from. The life that Dezimena Sorrow remembered as a child was like a fantasy dream. Her family line had been prominent magi, wielders of the elements. Most mages practice one of the five elements, fire, air, earth, water, and arcane. The later being the rawest of the elements and the hardest to master. The Sorrow line bore mostly arcane magi, like Dezimena and her father. But a wielder of the most unstable element meant a life that would be spent in training, to learn how to use the element for the greater good of mankind.

The studious training never came. Not when the 'other worlders' came. She was still a young girl when the space bandits raided her village. At the time she knew only of her world. Never thinking that the stars could hold whole other worlds with terrible and spectacular races. She came to understand that her 'planet', as these other worlds were called, was what was called a 'protected planet'. One that had not reached the technology of the other worlds and one that should be left alone. But bandits were the same no matter on horseback or aboard ships. Money was money, and someone who could hurl bolts of arcane magic was worth quite a bit. A horrible fate was dealt to her family whom refused to surrender. Leaving the ten your old Dezimena alone for the first time. Once captured she used what little training she had to escape those bandits. Learning on the run about her new life and how to use her magic.

Dezimena eventually came to find herself on a planet called 'Earth' which had humans like her. Though they could not wield magic, or not traditionally. Its people for the most part reminded her of home. Good food, care-free, and friendly. But Earth people could also be dark, callous and cruel, just like humans on her home planet. That was where the similarities ended. Earth held towering buildings, some clean other holding the dirt and grime of age. Streets not so pristine but not squalid in filth either. Some buildings looked like trees bending and swaying slightly from their faulty design. The 'chariots' or hover cars as they called then, hovered above the ground and didn't need a horse to pull them. No magic was used with this power, but science. Something that Dezimena understood but saw different than true magic. She had grown into a woman on these streets and knew them well enough to survive.

She also learned quickly that there had been abductions of other magi like her. One can imagine the desire that rose in her to find her own people. She found them hiding, posing as humans with no magic ability what so ever within them. It wasn't long before she understood why. The government back home was ruled by a king and his counsel men. But this place, this city called Reborg was much different. The holy men or clergy ruled over the people. Believing in the Divine Maker who favored those whose souls were pure. Granting his disciples entry into Heaven if they followed his divine path. Those who did not follow the Maker obviously were tainted by the Iniquitous Ivarri. She who pulls men into the depths of hell to devour their souls. Using the sins of magic to corrupt man for her endless buffet.

Yes it was the very elements themselves that the people of Earth believed damned them from entering some holy gates. The elements that granted the Sorrow family nobility was now a curse and a death sentence for Dezimena. Of course there were those whom were 'touched with divine light' and able to wield the elements with holy purpose. Bullshit is all it was to Dezimena. To her it sounded like a submission to a false god. But her beliefs didn't stop her from running as fast as her legs could carry her as she fled the small squad of soldiers that now pursued her. Her breaths heavy as her heart thundered in her chest, her dark chocolate hair whipped around her round face. Her round purple amethyst eyes even larger as she turned to look back. Her fair skin seemingly brighter against the dark drab clothing she wore.


It was a trap. A damn mage like herself flushed her out with the promise of an underground haven for those whom wielded magic. "Stupid! Stupid! Should'a known it was a trap!" She cursed to herself as she rounded the corner to a dead end. She gasped and looked up at the brick walls that towered on either side. A whimper left her as she touched the wall, debating on using her magic to try and blast a hole in the wall. But the soldiers were right behind her, would she have time to escape?

 

[Vacyr]

Give yourself to the Divine and help us, assist us in consecrating this very ground and rid it of -her- clutches. Comes the low voice rumbling from the nearest pedestal, the carved granite eyes blinking and mouth moving with ease. Stone flakes come crumbling to the ground, yet the small statue doesn't deteriorate. It's an illusion. A gift from the Divine. Without a doubt, it's these very statue heads, all fit within the oval room, staring right into their own faces, are where the clergymen go for a peaceful offering. They call names that are to be spited, these figureheads, and thus the cloaked men will bow their heads. But going into this tomb, speaking to these higher messengers, is a risk by all humans. The common folk of the city have access but not many pursue it. There are trials and offerings that must be made. If an offering of fruit are not the ripest the man could find, the one bearing the offering is therefore corrupt. Ivarri has taken control over their mind or soul, turning it as black as the freshest coal.

It's on those very steps, leading up to the egg shaped room, a boy once crouched. His hair should have been the color of blonde but the days have grown sour for him and many children and therefore is covered in soot or dirt. The safest bet is a combination of both. The poor do not live clean lives while the rich fill their goblets to the brim and look out of their skyscrapers. In the slums, where this particular place of worship resides, not many have such liberties. They're lucky if they have a roof over their head. And for this boy, there are no such pleasures as a warm fire or a roof. Most of his days are spent huddled with his knees digging into his chest, head resting on them. A man, walking across the street, his clothing way too expensive to be from around these parts, stops. He looks, smiles, and moves. Before the boy can blink, he has persuaded him to follow him to his home. There, he said, he would take care of him - forever.

But such promises do not last a lifetime. Nearly a year after Alikor allowed this boy to stay with him, there was a raid on his home. Everything was stolen including the man's life. This left the boy in the hands of bandits. Since young minds are always so fragile, the woman he met next, planted some wild ideas in this boy. She said he should look tough and that he should be a soldier. Before the boy could speak, the bronze haired woman was already placing her finger to his lips. She took him in like a drug, smelling the sweat and anger drip down the boys face. With a careful nudge in the right direction, her silvery tongue convinced the boy much like Alikor did all those weeks prior. She wanted him to be a soldier so he had to oblige since she, after all, worked for the government and his life in the after would be condemned to Ivarri if he didn't comply. So he really didn't have much of a choice. As time grew longer, this woman became a mother of three young strapping boys and she couldn't have been more proud. The baton of her business, the shady kind done behind locked doors and flawless under the shadow of a flickering street lamp, was passed to her brother. That's when the boy left. He didn't walk, he ran.

And now that boy, grown into a man, is running again. In a way he has followed his "mother's" dream of him being a soldier. He does work in a squad among both the strong and weak. This man has become what his mother always wished for him to be. For that fact, he holds his head high and his gun to his chest. It's been nearly an hour and this man still waits in his perch. A sharpshooter nuzzled deep in his nest, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. They'll be here any second... The man reminds himself, glancing through the scope one last time before heaving a sigh. They'll come through the wall and that's when I kill those soldiers and we take over. The Maker knows I need the money. And so he waits, checking the scope time after time. He has to wait for the bang, then the soldiers in their blue and gold uniforms will fall.

"Get ready men." Comes a whisper over his com line and the man settles himself back on the catwalk, belly down. Not taking his eyes off of the wall, he places his finger over the trigger in anticipation. "C-7, ready." He returns in a whisper, his heart stopping for a moment when he hears a large bang. The next thing he sees is a mess of gray clouds and brick fragments both large and small.

 

[Zizikitty]

An explosion could harm those chasing her and though Dezimena didn't want to be chased anymore she also didn't want to kill. A whimper escaped her and she paused a moment. Taking a deep breath and darting to wall. Amethyst purple started to glow on her fingers as she touched the wall and drew a half circle, a burn mark appeared as she did so. Then she clasped her hands together and a ball of amethyst light started to form. The soldiers cam around the corner and aimed their sights on her, all shouting and yelling for her to stand down.

Any magic was volatile when not used properly but fire and arcane were notorious for being the most difficult. Fire for it's ability to burn out of control and arcane for it's explosive power. The air around Dezimena sizzled with sparks of purple light and her clothing and hair danced as she called forth her element. "I'm sorry if any of you are hurt." She said not looking back but with a sudden motion she slammed her fist into the wall. The blast of arcane energy hit the wall with incredible force, blowing a hole easily in the brick wall with a loud boom. The brick and other debris flew everywhere mostly flying away from her. But a few stray chucks bounced off the walls and hit the men behind her.

Dezimena coughed as she didn't wait for the dust cloud to clear before she ran though, stumbling over the debris. The men chasing her, the ones in the blue and gold uniforms, jumped through the hole and opened fire upon the young woman. She screamed as a bullet hit her shoulder. Instantly she hit the ground and did the only thing she knew to do for now. She shot her hands out and formed a bubble shield around herself. Protecting her from any other bullets and energy weapons. But this also rendered her immobile, since making a shield required a bit of will of herself just to sustain. The men in blue and gold armor surrounded her with their rifles aimed.

 

[Vacyr]

Hearing the loud shouts coming from the other side of the wall, Ralekan pushes his face against the side of his S8-K10-4 Vanguard sniper rifle. The smoke consumes all hopes of pulling the trigger, the loud bang and blast of purple is muffled by his ear protection. The steel and aluminum earpiece, looking like an ear cup used on headphones, heavily padded to reduce unwanted noise. A chord runs through his armor and attached to his radio at his hip. And now comes the waiting game, the static on his mic indicating that his men have been ordered to stand their ground until Rale takes the first shot. Squeezing his finger against the trigger, he finds a sweet spot in one of the golden helmets of the government soldiers.

"On my mark," Ralekan whispers, shifting his weight before breathing out in a long, slow whirl. When no more air is left in his lungs, he yanks the trigger back. "Fly." First comes a flash of kale colored light, a laser piercing through the polished steel. The black hole steams, waiting for the successive shard to plant itself into the man's skull within the next nanosecond. The man's head jerks back from the impact, a small buzzing disrupting the other men as they investigate the building faces. They're not alone now. Figures start swooping down from the rooftops, crashing into the armored men who are left, killing them off with handguns or shotguns. Ralekan, though, stays up in the rafters, pulling back the bolt and letting the empty cartridge be flung elsewhere.

Keeping his sights on the girl, he makes sure she won't run once his men take care of the soldiers. Once the gold and blue armor is mixed with red, the five men and two women pause, replacing their weapons in holsters if its optional. The leader, a long haired brunette moves over to kneel next to the bubble. Her kind hazel eyes wait to meet Dezimenda's. "You're safe now, magic user," she whispers, "There is no need to keep up your barrier. We can keep you safe and out of harms way." Looking over her shoulder, she motions for Ralekan to move his spot and cover them from above. He does so willingly, knowing this game all too well.

 

[Zizikitty]

A scream jumped from her throat as the gun fire lit up around her. She slammed her eyes shut and used as much will as she had to keep the shield up and protect herself from the bullets and laser fire. She knew the shield would protect her from any harm coming her way but with a wounded arm it was incredibly harm to keep the bubble stable. Silence fell around her and only her scared labored breathing fill the air. Her voice shuddered as she opened her eyes.

The men, the ones in the blue and gold suits now littered the ground. Her arm shivered from the pain and the shield around her waned. Tearfully she looked up to the woman walking to her. A brunette, someone she didn't recognize. Never the less her hazel eyes portrayed warmth and her gentle voice spoke words that eased the mage. A tear rolled down Dezimena's cheek as she looked around and suddenly she let her hands drop to her sides.

The shield dissipated immediately as she leaned over, clinging a hand to her wounded arm. "I don't know who you are but thank you!" She said in relief. Dark chocolate hair clung to her sweaty face as she looked up at the woman. "They lured me out thinking they were the Magi Freedom Fighters." She shook her head as she regained her breath. "I should have known better." She said looking up to offer her rescuers a smile.

 

[Vacyr]

"Oh, yes, commander, this girl will be a lot of dough. She is an arcane magician or mage, blasted down a damn wall so her powers seem to be quite educated. most mages I have seen can hardly hold a ball of energy stably in their hands, let alone channel it through a surface. i fear she believes Ivarri when she calls. I assume its her hate that allowed her to blast down that wall. Poor girl has no idea what fate will come over her." Ralekan whispers into his mic, following the procession of bodies from the rooftops. Hearing a response come crackling over the lines, Ralekan departs from his course. When they return to base, he will be sitting at the large rectangular table, cleaning his sniper, his helmet laying from a cord at his waist.

"The MMF? Oh their numbers are running at an all time low." The brunette laughs, offering her hand to the other female, "You'll literally have to be a noble or a lord in order to even know where one of their checkpoints are, let alone be offered shelter." chuckling heartily, the woman redoes her bun, pulling it back tightly. Her chin is the shape of a garden shovel, coming into a neat point at her chin. Still, her smile is friendly and her tone friendly. "The G&B's are quite sly in that sense, don't beat yourself up up about falling for one of their tricks. They'll to go all ends to try and make you believe one of their lies. There is a rumor that they once payed twenty people to lie for them in order to catch just one mage." jerking her thumb back towards the hole in the wall as it fades while they walk, she laughs, "You seem to have quite the talent."

Offering her hand out, the leader, dawned in proud purple and silver body suit, flicks her wrist at herself. "Oh, how could I be so rude. I'm Kelliann but since I like your face, stranger, you can call me Kell for short. You see, if you want to live, you'll join us." a brow raises, an unknown intention for a smile flutters across her face. "We're all good souls here, just misunderstood. We fight to live and live to fight. Understand? More of those G&B's will be after you and before you know it, you'll be made 'an example of' by the religious boloney this damn country follows blindly. You'll just be another ... sacrifice to the Maker." she pulls her hand away before Dezimenda can shake, "You shake my hand if you agree to our terms. Are we on the same plain?" There is an underlaying tone of authority beneath her kind hazel eyes. "Yeah? Will you join us? We could sure as hell use a magic user like you."

 

[Zizikitty]

Dezimena was unaware of what the MMF's numbers were but she was also pretty sure they took in any mage, not just nobles. Which technically she was but her status no longer matter. It hadn't for a very long time. But then again perhaps the woman was right. Hell she'd only just found out about the organization. For all she knew this was the brutal truth. It made her slump dejectedly, her dark hair hung in her face as she looked at the ground. The woman told her not to feel bad for being tricked. Her words offered little comfort as Dezimena thought about it.

After a moment she started to drift off, her mind swaying somewhere else. She was thinking about the G&B's, how they tricked her and that she'd not allow that to happen again. Her mind traced over her own steps, trying to figure out where she went wrong when the woman's movements drew her eyes back up. She was motioning to the wall. Dezimena looked up and frowned. It was sloppy with an explosion that did not fly out the way she meant it to. She could see her father frowning at it telling her she needed to focus her energy better. "Thanks..." She said in a distant tone. "Seems more like a curse these days than a gift." She said chuckling numbly.

She took the hand when offered, still with one hand clinging to the wound on her arm. "Thanks. I'm Dezimena Sorrow. Kell I-" But she stops abruptly after the woman's full words hit her. If you want to live, you'll join us. Despite the warm smile and kind eyes, there was a foreboding darkness that tainted Kell's voice. It made Dezimena hush and listen more closely. She spoke truth and honesty but something was wrong. It made Dezi coil in on herself as she looked at the woman. "Use me?" She said, glancing back at the hole thinking of the 'compliment' that was given.

Her hand extended in greeting but was surprised when it was pulled away. Now she understood. Shaking the woman's hand meant she was pledging herself to their services and doing the exact thing with her magic that her father taught her not to do. "I know we shouldn't stand here and chat but... You'll understand if I don't put my full trust in you. So I need to know what you mean by 'you could use me'. Explain your terms as if I were a stupid small child." She said in a more confident tone as she looked back at the woman. "Since I am not a healer and I refuse to use my element to kill people, I don't see how I would be of use to you." She looked away a moment. "What is your organization. And what do you stand for." Her voice was calm and demanding. She refused to the tricked again.

 

[Vacyr]

Kelliaan leads them through the slums of the city, ducking under rafters and squeezing between small slits in the alleyways. As she moves, giving Dezimenda precise instructions on where to step, she informs her about booby traps or even small explosives that are meant to hardly cripple a man but leave him on the ground wallowing in pain. She tells Dezimenda of the rock salt used in tight bombs and meant to cover soldiers who pass by these parts, trying to either jam their armor, weapons, or if they're lucky, sting their eyes. She scoffs, telling the mage that such shots are in dreams of mankind for no one has conquered such a tale. The G&B's always wear helmets and thus rock salt is only used for quick escapes. When they explode they crate a circumference of thick dust of both small and large fragments. It's enough, she says, but not nearly as effective as they would like.

Once Dezimenda starts to question their organization more and more but more importantly her part in such a scheme, Kelliaan hardly stops. Reaching up for a rusty pipe, she pushes off the brick wall, filled with grime and oil, grabbing hold and flinging herself much like a pole vault, to the other side. Not expecting Dezimenda to follow, Kelliaan turns around, leaning against the chain link fence with the taunting barbed wire spiraling the top. When she speaks, there is no hint of betrayal, even a small smile tugging at the side of her lips. It's clear to Dezimenda, looking on that grime covered face illuminated in the lamplight, that these people do not live extravagant lives. They steal what food they can and take whatever is laying around. All that seems to matter is keeping the G&B's or other government operatives, out of their prowling grounds.

"We could start one of our own MMF's." Kelliaan shrugs, her heart really not in her words. Normally there is passion with breaking the law but she seems tired and sick of living in such slums. "Save mage after mage who the G&B's terrorize and attempt to capture. We have a bunker that's too large for even all of us so I don't see why we can't just," she snaps her fingers, hands moving to Dezimenda's hips and lifting her up. Instead of cutting through the fence like any sane beings, this man throws Dezimenda over it. Kelliaan herself is there to catch her with ease. For a woman of a pretty normal stature, her body has been well taken care of. Underneath the armor must be defined muscles from daily exercise. Dezi's weight feels like a bag of potatoes, nothing she can't handle.

"I know the last thing you want to do is trust some freedom fighter group that you just met. Believe me, I wasn't too peachy about joining them at first either. Point is, you don't have to use your magic if you don't want to. Perhaps you can help Ralekan up in the nests. He has always been looking for an extra set of eyes and a spotter for his sniping." Still holding Dezi in her arms, Kelliaan starts to walk, her embrace tightening if the girl tries to squirm out. She dances as if in a grand ballroom, her eyes flickering from the floor to the walls. One false step and they could all be torn to shreds.

"In honest terms, Dezi, dear, we're fighters who - hugh," she leaps from one rise in the floor to another, being sure not to step on any crevasses she sees, "- fight the government rule. We're their bitches, so to say. And we're sick of it. Let me make you a deal. Come and see our base, mind you, you'll have to be blindfolded, but if you like what we do, stay. If not, you're free to leave and we'll even point you in the right direction."

 

[Zizikitty]

Dezimena follows the woman away from the scene. Regardless of her intentions this was something Dezi welcomed. To get away from the bodies that surrounded her and the smell of burnt brick. She hung on Kell's words, taking note on the possible booby traps in the area. Her mind was stuck on the rock salt moment, wondering if she could make it more effective. Perhaps add a substance with it that not only created a cloud of dust but something that caused the dust to cling to the visors on their helmets.

As her mind wandered over the alchemical ingredients she paused to see the other woman suddenly jump a gap. A large gap. One that Dezi didn't think to pass over. She gasped and looked down at the gap between them, down to the littered ground. Trash cans and other forms of dangerous type of objects Dezi was sure would be painful if she fell. Her eyes moved up to look at the woman. It was a foreboding sight before her. Kell leaned against a fence with barbed wire just above her head. It made the other woman look that much more dangerous. But Dezi was reading too much into this, wasn't she?

The young mage used the a similar poll to reach Kell, albeit not as gracefully as the other woman. She clung to the fence and looked up at the sharp wire on the top. "You have a bunker?" She said looking over at Kell, her decision was starting to say in the lady's favor. A smile formed on her face as she thought about helping those like her. She looked at the wire knowing how easily her magic could cut through it. The smile abruptly faded when Kell picked her up however. Tossing her over the fence with ease, which prompted a squeak of surprise from her. Why didn't they just let her cut through the wire? Dezi wasn't a fan of being tossed about.

She tried to squirm her way out but like a wolf with prey in its mouth Kell did not let go. It started to alarm Dezi and she looked at the woman wide eyed when she started to dance with her. Dezi wanted to be cautious when making deals but she wanted the woman to let her go more. "Alright... I'll see your base." She said trying no to look down. She caught snippits of words. Not wanting to be the government's bitches. Free to leave if she didn't like what they offered. But in all she really wanted to be put down.

 

[Vacyr]

"Grand!" Kell happily exclaims as they reach the second to last step. A hop, step and a skip later, they're safely on the other side. "And if I could shake your hand, I would but pardon me, Dezi. You're a sweet girl but we can't take any chances of you knowing where our bunker is. Don't take this personally. I'll keep you safe, my dear, you don't need to worry." Snapping her fingers, one of her guards cracks a gun butt over Dezi's head, causing her to black out. "Really, terribly sorry it has to be this way, love." Kell sighs, catching Dezi and throwing her over the girls shoulder. "Come on, boys." Starting into a light jog, she makes her way into the bunker.

"You know, it's quite sad," Kell tells her boys as she lays Dezimenda down on the small linen cot. "This girl has to go through all that trouble--" But a dark figure appears in the hallway, a lit cigar stoking in his mouth. A laughter is heard rocketing from the dark man's throat, the shadows of the steel encased bunker deep underneath the earth. He is a tall man, built like a tank and his face looks like a battlefield. Kell turns around when he clears his throat, "Oh, it's you," she grumbles, "I need your brother in here, asap." When the man starts to complain, Kell literally jumps at him, popping the cigar right out of his mouth. "How many times have I told you, you stupid brute, not to smoke in the fuckin' bunker?" She throws it to the floor and stomps on it. "Get your damn brother, now!" Grabbing his shoulder, he pushes him out. "Now!"

In what feels like years later, Ralekan leans against the side of the open door. "Hey, so, what do you need me down here for chief? It smells like dirty socks," he sniffs, popping another peanut into his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully, "Or perhaps its a dead skunk or something." He chuckles to himself and Kelliaan knocks him playfully on the shoulder, hoisting herself up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek.

"You're cute, you know," She ruffles his hair before stepping out of the door, "Just watch her, will ya? Thanks sweetie." Before Ralekan even has time to answer, Kelliaan is already bounding down the hallway. The cellar is dank, dirty, and as previously stated, doesn't smell too sweet. Sighing, he takes a seat in the cushioned seat, the springs almost poking out of the bottom. "This is so stupid," he whispers, waiting for Dezi to wake up, his gun at his hip. Chuckling, he thinks of the little mage's fate, cleaning his gun with a handkerchief.

 

[Zizikitty]

Naive and completely unaware of the woman's true intention, Dezimena didn't fight or even expect the butt of the gun the smash into her head. She'd been told that she'd be blind folded, why should she assume she'd get knocked out? She never saw it coming, even standing still as she expected the blind fold to appear over her eyes. She was quickly and easily knocked out and fell limp, being caught by the mysterious and dangerous woman Kell.

Her dreams were filled with fear and uncertainty. She was a child again, running through her home town back home. But the streets were empty. Her scuffed dress shoes echoing on the cobble streets. No matter how many times she called and where she looked she found no one. She was alone. Her dress dirtied and her dark chocolate hair a mess. Suddenly she turned down the alley and saw a figure, a man. "Mister! Mister!" She called to the unfamiliar form. She didn't recognize him right away but since he was the only soul she found in the time she'd been looking she didn't hesitate to run to him.

The man whirled around with a devious smirk upon his face and upon seeing that crooked smile she knew. It was the man that had raided her home, killing so many and kidnapping more. He spread his arms wide and it was then she noticed the wide deep hole in the ground. But it was too late, she was already falling through.

Dezimena gasped as her senses came alive, fearful that she was still falling. Her eyes shot open but promptly closed when the throbbing in her head proved too much. Though her entire head ached, the pain was localized. She groaned lightly as she weakly placed her hand over the throbbing knot on her head. "Oh my head..." She said painfully as she looked around the room. It was dark and dirty, not what she'd expected to wake to. Though only as she rubbed her head did she remember her last moments. Had she been knocked out? How else did the bump on her head get there. She looked over to see a man watching over her. Much to her relief it wasn't the man from her nightmare, although he did have a gun. "Who-who are you?" She said as clarity started to come to her.

 

[Vacyr]

"I apologize on behalf of Kelliaan, she has a fascination with always staying... spunky," chuckling to himself, Ralekan stands up from the chair. His words are hard to decipher for the man could easily be sarcastic or completely serious. The cushion squeaks at the release of his armored weight. Slipping the gun easily into its holster on his thigh, the man offers his hand out to the Mage, helping her up from the bed. His steel toed boots shine in what light there is, the smell as dank as ever. Water tunnels can be heard sloshing above them, the bottom of a large vent sticking out of the top of the room. Ralekan peers up at the shaking pipes.

"Let's get you out of this dump, Dezimenda. You need a grand tour before you can make your decision." Word travels fast beneath the ground for there are double the amount of ears there are of mouths. It's easy to overhear when the walls constantly echo deeply. They can only dig down in this city, not up so the lower the apartments are, the poorer quality they find. Such as the lowest floor she is on now. Dripping pipes, mold on the walls and the darkest corners where any nightmare can lurk hungrily. Ralekan moves quickly though, expecting Dezimenda to follow, not giving her time to catch up. Opening the floor door, a large number four printed in a light brown, he starts his way up the metal steps. His boots clank, a hand constantly on the hilt of his gun. The strong soldier hardly turns around to see if she is following, her footsteps giving him his answer.

Gray eyes are not a rarity among this city. In the quick moment Ralekan let his eyes show, Dezi would be able to see something, a small something, shine within the pools of silver. Was it a blue ring around his iris? A brown one? But the man doesn't maintain eye contact. He never does. For a man who is a sniper, the element of observation is key. His reasons for not staring deeply into someone's eyes is that he is too busy scanning the room. Reading people isn't his strong suit but he adores just knowing what every day people miss. Dirt and oil underneath the fingernails from a worker trying to be a businessman and many other ploys by every single civilian of this world. They're all greedy, whether they want to admit it or not is another story.

 

[Zizikitty]

The next thing to hit Dezimena was the smell. It was like a skunk died in a rancid toilet. Then someone topped it off with rotten eggs. She coughed from the smell at first and weakly held her hand over her nose as she lifted her face once again to the man. Suddenly his hand was next to her face. She didn't take it, instead she recoiled from him. No not again, not this time. She thought to herself. She'd been led into a trap and bashed over the head. She wasn't in the mood to he stabbed in the back again. She narrowed her eyes in distrust as she pushed herself up against the wet slime covered brick wall. "Spunky? Spunky is not the word I'd use." Her tone said she didn't trust him and was clearly annoyed at this point.

He offered to get her out of this slice of hell and claimed he was giving her a 'tour'. Although he said 'before you make your decision' she had a feeling she didn't have a choice. She followed him out of the room, making sure to be much more aware of her surroundings this time as she walked along the moist floor. The sounds of sloshing water above them made her look around as she tried in vain to cover her nose from the smell. Her frown deepened as she realized the soldier was not waiting up for her. Dezi quickened her pace so as to catch up with him as he darted up some stairs.

The more aware of her surroundings she became the more this man felt familiar. But she'd never seen him before. She couldn't quite place it but her element seemed to strengthen when around him. She dismissed the feeling until her amethyst eyes caught with his grey. For the fleeting moment she looked into them she saw it. But she wasn't sure if she was simply hit on the head too hard. She sore she saw an element hidden in those smokey grey eyes. But he wasn't a mage. He'd been found out by now. She dismissed it once again knowing she probably just hit her head too hard.

 

[Vacyr]

As soon as the door behind Ralekan closes, the malodorous scent of the slums below dissipates. An air tight seal expands behind Dezi, closing off the bottom floor unless she has a translucent data card imbedded in her wrist as all these soldiers do. The hallway she walks down now has soft amber lighting beaming from below the smooth steel slits in the floor every few feet. On the tops of the crescent shaped tunnel are parallel LED lights shining the same shade of light down upon the two of them, unlike the dull yellow lamps hanging from the basement ceiling. Rale always hated the way those dim lights flicker for any nightmare could lurk in the shadows down there.

"Anna was determined to get you here and protocol is protocol," looking over his shoulder, Rale makes sure she is still following him for these hallways have a clean air ventilation system. Clean air, yes but solitude in sound is a negative. Large fans every hundred feet whirl and blow the chilling cool air right into the maze of steel Ralekan calls home. "I wouldn't take it too seriously. Consider it an initiation if she knocked you on the back of the head. She could have done worse things to you, trust me. She has a whole damn arsenal."

While navigating the hallways, Rale is silent from then on, his name still a mystery along with his past and purpose in this Freedom Fighters group. He doesn't seem to be giving it up freely. Or ever for that matter. The man is a steel box, hardly any emotion crossing his lips with newcomers.Pausing by a door, he flips open the white keypad with orange symbols. One by one he clicks and the smell of gas wafts passed by them as the doors open, sliding slick on a single wheel level with the floor.

Dezi will follow Ralekan into a large oval shaped room. A fire roars in the center of a raised floor surrounded by marble pillars. Sitting on the long, roman-esque couches, lies Kelliaan, her personal bodyguard, and a mixture of the sexes. The room is large enough to fit a whole basketball court, the circumference having portraits pinned up to the wall or charms such as a lucky hat, boot, or pearl encased in a box. They call it the hall of fame room, anything important being stored next to or in the walls next to a portrait of the squad member. If she looks around, she won't find Ralekan's picture in her line of sight. He must be hiding on the other side of the room, guarded by the large pillars.

"Welcome to the world of the living, sleepyhead." Kell chirps, lifting her septa colored liquid in a long, long glass. A few bubbles pop and fizzle at the top, a journey for the remaining bubbles traveling upwards constantly flowing.

 

[Zizikitty]

They passed through a much to the mages relief the smell dissipates. A sigh escaped her as she starts to breath easier. But the hallway she is led down is ominous. Even though it was better lit and well ventilated. She hugged herself as the feeling of being unsure crept in more and more. Still she made it a point to follow closely so as not to get lost in this maze of steel. She scoffed at his explanation. "She said she was going to blind fold me... But I suppose she could have done worse..."

Eventually she was led into a room which was a world away from where she awoke. Her purple eyes scanned the room, taking in all the strange new sights. It reminded her of the pictures of elven cities though she never personally saw such. With white marble pillars and a cozy fire warming the room. She tilted her head at the pictures on the walls. Who were they? And why did they have objects next to them? But her gaze was soon Drawn to the people in the room, more specifically Kell.

Seeing the woman flared those feelings of mistrust and she instantly paused. It was only when she spoke that she walked forward. Dezi darted her head around the room a bit more seriously now, looking for anyone that could be behind her to knock her out again. She moved slowly forward and eyed the woman carefully, as well as the formidable guards surrounding her. "Sleepy head? Huh that's cute. Yea when you bash someone over the head they do tend to be out for a while." Her tone seething in sarcasm as she brought her hands behind herself. This was a pose she had used before, showing submission by placing her hands behind her back. But the reality was they tingled with her arcane element, ready to shove any attacker away with a powerful blast of magic.

"Thanks to you I now have a pounding head ache. I'm not in the mood for games or riddles anymore. You may have saved my life but that doesn't mean I trust you. I certainly don't after you said one thing and did another." She said boldly as she still held her hands behind her back. Looking over everyone in the room. The pain made her bold and possibly a bit brash as she spoke. "I understand with the way the government and clergy is you need secrecy but I can't trust you if you don't tell me the truth." She said locking eyes with Kell.

 

[Vacyr]

Ralekan looks up to the domed roof, for this room is three stories high of just spiraling pillars, books, and statues, and smiles. There lies the stained glass that he adores so much. The colors of the sun shine right through the white painted room, causing splotches of translucent color to pop up wherever they desire most. Depending on the time of day, Rale thinks of this room as a giant sundial, the lights will dance around one corner of the oval over the others. The stained glass, all the vibrant colors Dezi could imagine, holds no story. There are no pictures of depictions of famous warriors or clerics as the government one's do. These simple people live a simple life. Kelliaan's words disrupt his upward thoughts, his mind coming back to the scene before him.

"Oh come now, don't be so sour!" Kell laughs before taking another swig from the bubbling drink in her hand. From the looks of it, a bottle has been opened and the men and women are just enjoying themselves, "We can always give you something for that headache of yours. You should have told Rale from the beginning, you silly girl." Snapping, she doesn't get up from her seat but another woman finishes off her drink, placing it on a glass table beside the sofa's while they face the fire, and walks to Dezi. The girl, no older than seventeen, has long red hair braided back into intricate knots around her cranium. Makeup is non-existant for only the higher classes can get their hands on something so valuable. It can alter appearances and the government wants to see the scum for who they are - not what they want to be.

"I am Sevitti, daughter of Joli and Kep'ta from the Laktor system, sector nine," a full introduction is not usually found on Earth but since she is so young, such formalities have been ingrained in her mind and are not easily forgotten. Sevitti even does a small curtsy, showing utmost respect in the presence of a mage. "Would you like to take a seat and perhaps have some drink? It's fresh from what used to be France back in the days of old. Will you come and sit? Talk? I can fix that headache for you," the girl reaches out her hands to touch Dezi's head. Tentatively, she waits for an answer before pressing the pads of her fingers to the lady's temples.

Kell smiles as Ralekan sits right next to her on the small couch, her arms immediately wrapping around his frame, holding him close. The two of them whisper low and smile wide. Anyone who is anyone knows that Ralekan is hers and might be for the rest of their lives together. His eyes, along with hers, smile when the colors meet and mix. She seems so preoccupied, Dezi could have left the room and Kell would still be laughing with Ralekan. He doesn't smile often but their history, a past chained to memories, causes him to smile only for her. No one else has gotten something so genuine and happy from Rale.

 

[Zizikitty]

Kell said not to be sour but her light hearted words made the moment that much more so. Her hands tingled a bit more as she watched the interactions between everyone. "Well I thought it might be obvious that a head ache would be the result of head trauma." She snarked back. Her purple eyes narrowing a bit more on the woman. Suddenly she realized that someone else stepped closer to her. Untrusting eyes shot to the young girl and she backed away.

Her expression softened as she girl introduced herself. "Ah. Deziman Sorrow. From uh Protected Planet Olcoron... In the Pegasus system." It sounded just about as awkward as it felt to say the full name of her home planet. Bringing with it strange feelings of once again being alone. Despite a room full of people. She smiled at the respectful curtsy and gave a soft head bow in return. She'd been taught to bow just as respectfully but she still didn't trust anyone here. "Nice to meet you." She said only being polite.

The smile on her face faded ever so slightly. She shook her head no to the offer. "I'm not thirsty." She lied. "And I'm fine st-Whoa!" The young girl moved to place her hands on Dezi, which prompted the mage to jerk her head away from the girl. Throwing her hands up to form a two foot by three foot arcane shield in front of her. Much like a metal or wooden shield it would do nothing more than protect her and would cause no damage should someone touch it. It glowed a soft transparent amethyst in color and emitted a soft hum. "No offense Sevitti but I really don't want you touching me." She snapped quickly.

She took a few steps away from the girl and dropped her hands, dropping the shield. Her eyes look back to Kell and the man she came to understand was Rale. They were close, that much was obvious to her. Siblings or lovers she wasn't sure which but she was willing to bet they were lovers. Which meant she trusted him. Dezi couldn't trust him then if that was the case. "Last time someone touched me I ended up knocked out and here." She said looking at Sevitti. How long have you been here?" She said to Sevitti.

 

[Vacyr]

Sevitti's eyes shine with her delighted smile for she has seen the black magic - what the clergymen preach out and warn of. Sure, the young girl has seen perhaps one or two spells but Dezi, by far, is highly advanced. Most users Sev has seen must mutter or mumble some incantation in order to produce such a spiraling wall of protection but this girl did so within a heartbeat. If any other magic user is in touch with his or her element, they would feel an incredible wave of warmth run through their body. For magic is more than just tricks and spells, its a devoted lifestyle. One must study and study in order to learn control and balance within the world and, more importantly, within themselves. So Sevitti immediately puts up her hands once Dezimenda steps back. Perhaps it's fear and perhaps it's just the tingling shock of a drop of adrenaline into her system.

It's true that Earth has been ridding magic users ever since the clergy took control of the city. Ivarri, the people are still warned, will wipe them from existence is they don't give themselves freely, and without question, to the Divine. The higher clergymen have become so paranoid about keeping their lifelong positions occupied, that they have even set up sensors in every district. A little gray box, hardly noticeable when running to different chapters in one's daily life, holds the key to misery. If any magic is detected, a sonar sweeper releasing itself from the box every second, the authorities, the G&B's, will be notified and for to arrest the user. These boxes have a recording option as well, making it easy to zoom in on any suspicious activity.

"Now, now, calm down, Dezimenda," Kell calls in a twitter of laughter, whispering back to Rale before standing from her seat, "We don't want you making rubble of our palace now, do we? I guess an apology just won't cut it for you right now, hm? How about a little tour? Or, better yet, you come on one of our missions tonight so you can see the full extension of what we FF's, freedom fighters, do. What do you say?" By the time Kell reached the still mesmerized Sev, a warm hand placed on the redhead's shoulder, she is in front of Dezi. All the soldiers in the room have their hands near their guns, waiting in anticipation for what might happen next. "Pick anyone in this room, anyone. They'll be your escort through the whole thing. Don't worry, you'll be far enough away from the action as to night interfere - just be a bystander. To watch and be educated on the art we call our lifestyle."

 

[Zizikitty]

Dezi's eyes scanned the room, taking notice that the guards were no longer laughing. In fact they looked ready to riddle her with bullets if she did something they didn't like. Damn this society and their bogus belief if a false god. The thought did cross her mind to keep being mouthy but that might result in bullets. And while her shield could hold back the barrage it would undoubtedly take a toll on her will, making it harder to hold the shield. She was sure they had more bullets then she the will power to hold her magic. Dezi submissively lowered her gaze and held her hands behind her back once again.

Kell proposed a tour. The young mage wasn't too thrilled about the idea at first. Tossing her dark chocolate hair from her eyes she bit her lip as she thought it over. She absolutely wanted to join then tonight. She wanted to see what they did and how. What if she didn't like what they did? It dawned on her that she should take on the tour, just to know her way around should she need to escape. Well try and escape that is. "Alright... I'll take that tour..." She said as she drew her hands to her face to pull her hair from her eyes as she stepped away from Kell. "Since um..." She paused trying to remember the man's name. "Rale seems to know the place well, he can show me around."

It wasn't much of a choice really. She didn't trust Kell. She also didn't want the girl Sevitti all up in her personal space again. Then there was the trigger happy guards. Who's to say they wouldn't shoot her?

 

[Vacyr]

Sevitti lowers her gaze once Kell's fingers touch her shoulder. She isn't sad or ashamed of what she has done but rather the opposite. It's a gaze finished off with a bright smile of contemplation and respect for Kelliaan. For her leader. Their leader. Sev smiles when Dezi puts down her forcefield, learning from last time not to reach out for the young mage. Instead, her hands stay at her sides and she speaks quietly, a strong accent to her voice. Like many of her kind, she drowns out vowels in the common tongue spoken on this planet. Some words don't agree with her and the poor girl has to attempt to say them three or four times before it sounds right in the listeners ears. Still, she manages to hold some elegance. A status that has long been abused on Earth.

"I have been here for a year and three days currently. I have gotten used to the confinements of being underground but Kell is a strong and amiable leader and I trust her. She lets us roam wherever we want but tells us always that if we get into any trouble, we're on our own. There are risks we have to take and those we know we cannot even attempt. Our forces are too strong to pick off the G&B's all by our lonesome so we take our chances when we can."

Kell's eyes immediately turn to Rale when Dezi requests him out of all the able bodied men and women of her squad. Her sharp eyes pan back to Dezi, wondering what sorcery she might be up to. She had to pick Ralekan. A warning comes next, silently telling Dezi that she is in deep waters on this one. But such a look doesn't last long, the leader pasting a smile to her face yet again. Walking over to her Ralekan, Kelliaan slips her form onto his lap, those arms of hers wrapping around his shoulders. Their whispering commences, a short conversation this time that ends with Kell abruptly standing, Ralekan's face twisting in confusion. She's taken offense to something he has said, not stopping as she makes her way to another couch, motioning for Rale to leave her and her guards.

"Fine, we'll talk later then. I'll meet you--"

"Just go, Rale. It'll give me time to think." Her fingers shoo him away, the soldier's face turning hard. And like a stone to weathering, the cracks of disappointment show. He hates leaving conversations unfinished but no matter what he tries to say or do, Kell just holds up her hand and motions him away. Finally giving in, he walks over to Dezi, the gun still snuggled at his hip.

"This your first time on Earth, hm? Let's give you some memories to keep, shall we?" And as a gust of wind, he pushes the side doors aside, another hallway revealed but at least this one is carpeted and filled with paintings littering the walls, "Take your time, browse. I'm in no rush," Rale informs her, stopping by a oil painted flower basket in a wooden frame. "It'll give Kell time to think," he sighs, whispering to himself, not quite realizing how loud it is, "She needs to think."