Viridos, Chapter 5

[PureKor]

A new Friendship, #EE9A4D

Everything had changed. Not for the fact of her being alive now, but yes, deep down in her heart, Chytrhea knew very well, she owned them her life. If they had not found her in time, only the Gods knew what could have happened to her by now. And even if at first glace they may seem strange, she did found in them an odd familiarity feeling, and as far as she was concerned, her senses mostly were not wrong. It has not been so long since they got to Riven, her wound slowly dispersing surely, even with a tiny bruise and a sore feeling remaining, Chytrhea smiled across the room.


Her study was still a mess, like a tornado had passed by and plenty books were found scattered the floor, some old maps across the once-being desk of hers, as Chytrhea let out a sigh to pass her lips, before turning to Ash. Her facial expression turned to a worried one, mixed feelings kept taking form inside of her. Her hand held a very thick book, allowing her index finger to line the words reading in her mind the words, just to find herself moments later throwing it to the ground.


" I sincerely think this will take a long time. Sometimes, my memory tends to betray me. You have to bear with me." Chytrhea's tone of voice was a soft, yet calm one while speaking for Ash, continuing to look for a certain book down in her study. Only if, her personality could be better at organising things, the situation could be not so compromised. Chytrhea was indeed one of the kind of Avian. She may not have been self-organised, but as her father had told her on various occasions, she was no quitter. No matter what. Self esteem was probably one of the strongest assets found in her, along with the spirit which was laying within her.
However, the search continued inside her study, in the attempt of find the Black Book, that may or may not hold the information needed by them; it was only a matter of time. Chytrhea's hand lifted another book, stepping to one side of the room closer to dim light coming from the lamp and settled the book down. Her eyes fallowed carefully the words, turning some pages until she had reached to a stopping point. A tiny nod formed inside her throat, gulping in the next seconds, along with her breath becoming heavier. The page in the middle of the book was missing.


" This is not possible! For all Gods, who could have been here and rip exactly this page? Is there someone else after the symbols..
I cannot understand this nonsense! There must be another way for this.." speaking on a rather upset note, sighing even more deeply than before, as she made a jump over her desk and landed on a pile of books. Her wings moved slightly, with her fingers pressing at her forehead, going into deeper thoughts, while her body moved around the room by stopping in front of the small bookcase. Chytrhea leaned downwards, kneeling closer to the bookcase and let her hands to make another search, for a certain book.

" I start to believe, we might need another plan. Any ideas? I am willing to listen.." she spoke, now turning to face Ash's direction with a tiny smile forming at her lips. She was fully aware that he saved her life, therefore owned him at least this much, her unconditional help involving the books and deciphering the codes. After all, Chytrhea, did had a purpose in her life and had planned that she will accomplish it somehow. Her father knew way to many things, some of the ancient secrets, were hidden behind very complicated symbols and codifications hard to decipher for anyone else. Except herself.
Her eyes once again moved across the study, starring at the only painting in the room before, in a quick movement, Chytrhea moved her position and stepped towards the painting. By reaching it, her heart begun already to pound louder, just by looking at the inscription at the left corner of the frame.
" Spaceless code..hmm.. This could be a key in all this mess. " she whispered, briefly touching the inscription, anxiety spreading quickly within her, most definitely wanting to solve this mystery. She had to. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

[Peregrine]

The Dream, brown

She paid strictest attention to every color that came from behind her, to the yellow that glowed around the thread master as he raced after Chelena, preparing to throw again. She sprang off of one wall, tumbling through the air, rolling cleanly out of her fall before racing on down the hallway. The Kaustirian was gaining on her, but he still hadn't caught her. All she needed to do was find a way out...

Without the sunlight streaming through them, Chelena almost missed the holes in the ceiling. She ran under the first one without properly understanding the opportunity it presented her. By the second one, the idea was lodged firmly in her head. And by the third one Chelena was prepared for action.

She dropped low, rolling out from under the threads, which were once more being flung at her head. As soon as they had passed Chelena jumped upwards, spring-boarding against the wall, and her fingers closed over the edge of the roof. The rotten wood partially crumbled away under her fingers, but she scrabbled for a better purchase, before hauling herself up.

Just as she was about free, a single loop of the thread closed around her foot. She tugged desperately, whimpering as the wire began to scrape her skin off of her foot. Chelena gave a sudden tug, violently yanking her leg upward in an attempt to unbalance the Kaustirian, and, just as she made it seem as though she was preparing to yank again, she let go of the ceiling, pushing off and crashing right into the threadmaster. The threads wrapped around her wildly, but she was pressed in so close that he couldn't do anything to her without also grabbing himself. Her hands flitted up, and her fingers gouged into his eyes. The Kaustirian screamed, the first noise that Chelena had heard him make, and the threads fell limp around him. She scratched and bit and tore at his writing form, and the puddle of blood grew and she was glad, so glad, because now Carus wasn't going to be swept away by the river and those stupid animals would live and... and...

and...

CHELENA-HOSIA, cyan

Chelena sat up suddenly in bed, a scream perched on the tip of her tongue. She had not torn apart the Kaustirian, but instead her pillow had fallen under her hands. The soft leaves that had been used as stuffing were scattered about the bed and falling onto the floor.

A tear ran down her cheek as she stared at the four walls of her room in the Silver Wing. Chelena had not intended to stay this long; her plan had been to leave after she got new scarves from Belphebe. But her new scarves were in her possession, and still she stayed. Haunted by the dreams of a past she longed to forget, but terrified of moving forward, Chelena haunted the brothel, danced for her pay and seduced men who would never actually be able to have her.

Chelena got up, and set about pulling the leaves out of her hair and getting ready for the day. She had things to do. They were trivial things, things that she longed to forgo, but at least it was something to do that might help hold off the memories.

She was interrupted in her preparations by a sharp tapping at her door, before a girl from downstairs bustled into her room.

"Someone is looking for you, Chelena."

"I am a dancer. I don't take the men. That's your job."

The flower-covered forest kin sniffed unhappily before continuing, "It isn't a patron. It is a soldier. A Major, all the way from Edelon."

Chelena's heart rate suddenly sped up, and she twirled around to face the forest kin. What could a soldier want with her? They couldn't know about her theft of the Naval plans, could they? "What does he want?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me. You find out." And, without another word, the flower maiden flipped her viney hair and pranced away.

For a moment Chelena sat completely frozen, but before she even fully understood what was going on she was up and moving off down the hallway. Chelena was not going to flee. She was tired of living, trapped by indecision and uncertainty. She would see what this soldier wanted, and then she would make a choice as to what to do.

He was a middle-aged human man, with dark skin, black, dreaded hair, and tattoos on his face. He stood by the door with his hands behind his back ignoring the sultry glances cast at him by some of the prostitutes who appreciated his strong jaw and fit form. As soon as he noticed Chelena, however, he stepped forward, guiding her into one of the more private rooms that lined the common room.

"Chelena, it is wonderful to meet you. Please, have a seat."

Chelena, however remained standing. "Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Of course, forgive me. I am Major Haeron Don Rettig."

"What do you want?"

The major's eyes went soft. "I want to offer you something, Chelena. Something that will put purpose and meaning back into your life again. I can see that emptiness inside of you. If you are willing to accompany me, I think you may find something in Edelon that can save you." The man leaned forward, brought her down to his level, and whispered in her ear. Chelena felt her heart skip a beat. When the soldier finished speaking, he leaned back once more. "Please, tell me that you will let me escort you."

She was silent for a moment, unable to think. He wanted to save her? He wanted to save her, from the nightmares, from the complete emptiness inside of her, from the uncertainty as to what it meant to be herself. The Kaustirian had stolen it from her that day when the Aviary fell from the sky. And now this soldier was here to give it back

"I will."

 

[Falcon]

Hosia - Shekar Ma'alin, saddlebrown

"And here I thought I knew of all Teadoir's play things," Shekar remarked remaining completely cool and collected as she appraised the uninvited guest. But that was all she said as she turned back to the meeting, Nox floating in little ghostly circles before vanishing through the ceiling to keep an eye on the shop above and what was supposed to have been a locked door. If a group of potentially volatile strangers in her home didn't visibly phase her, the addition of one more could hardly make a difference, no matter who they claimed to represent.

 

[unanun]

Riven, tan

The great centaur Ash knelt outside the study, his arms working the heartwood like a soft clay. Recently he had developed this habit, practicing his feeling for the dynamics of the wood and death and decay. He left his mind behind and worked the heartwood for hours, as if desperately trying to remind himself of his original purpose.

He had shouldered the two girls across the poisoned jungle as the sunlight peaked through the canopy. Blood continued to trickle from Naya's ears and the avian on his other arm was knocked out cold. At Riven, he sought the help of the gentle tree architects, and they wove healing beds of root and herbs around them, the soothsayers treating Naya for her whiplash with mudra and other rituals. Their dancing appeared to dig into Naya's soul.

After his chat with Yalpin, he began to feel a pair of eyes shadowing his movements through the forest. Sometimes there was one eye, sometimes there were many. Sometimes there were none, and he still felt that there were some. He began to feel a weight bearing down on his shoulders, a grey cloud in the air that he knew would slowly condense into a black anvil, settling on his body and growing in weight until he was crushed beneath it. He knew that every step he took with Naya and Chytrhea the pressure would grow. But he was powerless now, swept along in the flow of fate. Ilium's plan.

Ilium's plan, apparently, was Naya. When Naya showed Chytrhea the circle set in the diamond, the historian immediately replied. "That's an old symbol for Sunne. The sea and the four quarters. It shows up all the time in ilium's texts." She gave them an amazing lead, and Chyt was the perfect person to aid their quest; quiet, reserved, a wallflower who went unnoticed by the hierocracy, but with vast reserves of knowledge. If it was anyone else, Ash's quiet inquiries and Naya's loud ones would have sent whispers up the vines - back to the elite in the Cinnabar Clad.

Unfortunately, she could tell them nothing about the colouring of the diamond. "The green is for Viridos. But I don't know anything of the Deadlands." Their trail ran cold. That was why they were sitting in her study, Naya watching her dig, hair flickering like a cat, while Ash also dug in a nearby tree.

Somewhere along the Viridos coast, green

Unfortunately for the four would-be smugglers, the meeting in Hosia proceeded in their absence. Malachi's fabulous fortunes and contacts would go unused, and Tamaa and Nassad's journey from Avarath to engage in legitimate-illegitimacy would be short lived.

Nassad was the only one to wake up that night - Malachi and Ayanne slept soundly, undisturbed by the sights and sounds of the dark and gurgling jungle. Only this time the gurgling belonged to Tamaa. Her throat was pinched between jaws filled with plant-eating teeth, yet Draken blood pooled freely around the pulled back lips and gums. Nassad's yell was frozen in his throat as he watched the Draken being slowly pulled out into the dark beyond.

In the morning they found her corpse blocking their path to Hosia, her chest savaged. They moved in the opposite direction. For all their panic, Malachi and Ayanne did well to navigate. They found occasional gifts of fruit and nuts. Dead bodies lined the edge of their path, forcing them due south. The climate grew cooler, and the jungle gave way to dry bushland. The poisons that ran wet along the dew were instead carried by choking winds, and they had to improvise masks to keep their eyes and throat from stinging.

After nearly a week of travelling, they emerged into the clearing between the Deadlands and Viridos. The path they had taken somehow evaded the forest-kin guarding the border, massive sentient trees that communicated through the root network back to the Riven mothertree. In the blind spot of the sentinels, they met their hidden benefactor.

"Welcome." The dark horse stood in blinding contrast to the bleached sand. "You are going to help me, in a small way, to kill a few people that I have desired to do so for a very, very long time."

 

[E.T.]

Open water beckoning at her back Caoimhe clutched onto the anchor that Medwick was fashioning for her. It was crudely crafted, but it only needed to work, if they had wanted it to look pretty that would have meant sacrificing more than a strip of ratty cloth. As it was the anchor was just a large rock that had been wrapped in a bit of cloth so that Caoimhe would have an easier time holding the weight during her descent. At the moment the rock was resting on the edge of the shore but the moment it was pushed into the water there would only be time for a breath before she would be pulled under. After gauging the distance between the group and the sphere they had agreed that this would prove the quickest way to retrieve it. Even so the wolf child was having some reservations about being dragged down into the deep. But as Medwick tugged at the cloth to check the strength of the knots he had tied she had a sense of creeping dread that told her it was far to late to back out.

"Now..." Medwick started his eyes switching from the anchor to Caoimhe his voice stopping in his throat forcing him to swallow. It appeared that even their clever wizard was not sure of what she would find when she reached the Sphere. What advice could he give when there was nothing that was really known about the object that was glittering upon the sea mountain's face. For now some general advice and a simple wish would have to do. "Just, be careful."

Truthfully Caoimhe really hoped that there was nothing to be careful about, she had had enough surprises to last several lifetimes. Aerie was crouched nearby chewing her lip nervously, perhaps something that could have been called concern showing on her face, however she was showing about the same eagerness as Shardis about jumping into the dark water. After a short time there was a silent agreement that they could delay no longer. Both Medwick and Aerie helped Caoimhe lower the rock into the water, although the latter grasped her friend's shoulder once the water was out of reach giving the wilding a few moments to adjust her grip and steady her breathing in preparation for the dive.

3...2......1...........goodbye. Rough rock slipped through her fingers as she let herself dip below the water, the rock dragging her down faster than she could have possibly managed on her own. As she let go she pushed off against the wall trying to aim herself in the direction of the Sphere.

Through eyes that stung and wept at the touch of the sea water she could see it, a glimmer blurred until it was no more than the occasional wink of light. It teetered on the edge of the cliff where it had rested since it was probably dropped into the water, as though just waiting for someone to pick it up, to remove it from the sea that had been its tomb.

Water pressed down on Caoimhe, her ears popping under the strain and her lungs starting to hunger for fresh air though they had been filled to capacity. And yet still she dived. The long stems of kelp threatened to ensnare her legs as though determined to keep her from her goal, so she found that she had to keep kicking her legs in wide arks to prevent them from being trapped.

Thump. The sound of stone hitting stone was deadened by the murky water, till Caoimhe swore she felt the sound more than she actually heard it. Reaching out she tried to grab hold of the mountain face, her right hand finding a small hold in the irregular rock face while her left hand encountered a slick surface followed by a sharp pain. Suppressing the sharp gasp that tried to tempt the limited air from her lungs she squinted her stinging eyes at the rock trying to see what she had touched. Blackness. A dark so slick and biting that she realized that she had tried to grab the razor edge of a obsidian fissure. If she strained her eyes and looked harder she could see veins of gold only her body length away that measured almost her forearm across. And then three lengths beyond that was the cradle where the object she was seeking lay surrounded by a constant rain of iron filings. Holding herself to the mountain sided with the holds that she had managed to find she planted her feet against the rock and used them to push herself towards the cliff edge. Without the rock to hold her down her body naturally wanted to float back towards the surface and many times she had to grab hold of the obsidian to keep herself close to the rock. And more than once she found herself suppressing winces of pain as the razor edges dug into her palm and fingers.

As she got closer she could feel that water getting warmer, never quite to the point where it was uncomfortable but still quite noticeable. And while her ears were full of water she started to hear a faint ringing that cut through all other sounds until it was almost overwhelming her.
But it was so close now.
All she had to do was reach out.
Just reach.
Just touch.

With a powerful kick of her legs she pushed herself within reach of the Sphere, her heart hammering away in her chest as she stretched forward her hand descending to touch it. A bolt of electricity shot through her body as the touch, her muscles spasming against the touch, her mouth opening to give a cry of shock. The only thing that made it out of her throat was a flurry of bubbles. Clamping her mouth shut to try save what air was left in her lungs, she twisted around in the water, this time reaching out with both hands for the Sphere. Any time that had been allotted to swimming back towards the surface was being cut drastically short, already she could feel her lungs straining against her chest, desperate for something other than the stale air that in her lungs.

This time she prepared herself for the same shock that she had felt when she first grabbed the Libras Sphere. Tensing her muscles against the spasms that she was sure would come. However as she once again touched the smooth surface all she felt was pickling buzz the made her hands and arms shake.

Planting her feet against the obsidian cliff she pushed towards the surface that glimmered far above her. Caoimhe didn't recall closing her eyes, only that at some point she realized she was staring at the backs of her eyes lids. She was so close all of her thought was going towards keeping her feet kicking as hard as they would go, and keep her lungs from forcing her to take a breath of salt water. So zoned out that she didn't feel the Sphere slipping through her numbed fingers until it had fallen from her grasp.

Violently she turned, closed eyes snapping open to watch the Sphere tumble back down into the black. Her lungs were burning, she didn't know if she had enough air to last the rest of the way to the surface much less go after the sphere. And yet... Pumping her legs as hard as she could she struck out after the Sphere as it tumbled through the water. In one last desperate action she reached out and hugged the sphere to her chest, her arms tightening around it as she spun and began her mad climb towards the surface. The pickling feeling that she had felt where she had started the swim towards the surface was replaced by a searing pain against her chest. She felt almost like she had when she had hugged the metal golem's heart to her breast. And yet even through the pain she felt a terrifying hollowness filling her. It was draining her, she could feel it tugging at her ankles, hoping to break her, hoping to drag her back down into the black.

Above her head she could see the sun shifting across the water surface, and with one hand she reached up towards it as though seeking a hand hold with which to drag herself up with. Just her hand broke the surface as she let out her last breath of air and slowly began sinking...

She did not make it very far before she felt someone else's hand grab hers. The grip was strong and she felt herself being pulled up and out of the water, her chest connecting painfully with hard rock as she was freed from the water.

"Get her some air!" she could hear someone yelling but she was not sure who it was, everything was to hazy. Only that she felt someone pounding on her chest as the next second her lungs seemed to be on fire as she coughed up lungful's of water. Flipping over so that she was on her side her gaze found the Libras Sphere and she was filled with a fear. It was not the pain that repelled her, she had dealt with worse, it was that hollow feeling that still filled her, for at that moment the two gently chattering leaves that usually hovered around her heart were gone. Not completely gone, for there in front of her was her aux, trapped on the side of the Sphere, looking as though it was rusting like old iron.

 

[PureKor]

Unpleasant Encounter, #EE9A4D

Chytrhea didn't mind the mess that tended to clatter her desk at any time of the Season. Sometimes, however, chaos threatened to triumph over order. When her personal system started to fail, it was time to clean up. Such days of organisation happened once or twice a season, mainly because that particular Avian detested cleaning up.

After a few more moments, she moved her body away from the painting, already a thin layer or sweat was forming on her forehead. Deep inside, frustration begun to take over her body and mind, yet she would not quit no matter what. Only if, she could become more self-organised. The only bad asset which she possessed.
Chytrhea allowed her arms to stretch in the air, letting out an exhausted sigh to pass her lips, just when her legs had come to a stop at the front of her desk. Her fingers traced slightly over some of the books's names, then continued browsing through the loose sheets. More were scribbled noted to herself, thoughts and ideas, reminders to investigate some minor details. In the end, they could end up being rather Major details. Squinting, she suddenly remembered.

At the beginning of the season, Chytrhea had tried to devise a system of codes in order to encrypt her own notes and reports. They included sensitive information, after all. Her notes would do to much damage in the enemy's hands. Especially at a time like that. Only if she could find the hidden scrolls of her father's, perhaps then, she could certainly and definitely, find an explanation for the lost Lands. For sure those symbols had a powerful meaning, but could not put just yet the finger on it.

" I need to find my Father's scrolls and his red diary. I am sure they hold plenty of clues. The only issue is.. I don't know exactly where they are hidden." Her voice had come out soft, yet on a sadder tone that expected. Chytrhea had an interesting connection with her father. She had always admired him. So, for that, she knew he had left her some clues behind in order to find what she needed. Her eyes wondered across her study, letting her body to be supported by the edge of the desk.

However, her trail of thoughts brought her a tiny detail which she did forgot to mention. It was rather important, but not to many were keen to believe it. Then, Chytrhea moved again, as she gasped for a second, looking over the bookshelf. Her long, dark hair swung a little along with her body movements, squeezing her fingers together. Her eyes widen even more, the pupils dilated as much as possible and the heart rate had increased dramatically, just at the thought of it.

It was no possible that.. Them, could do such a thing. There is a possibility, for sure. I know they exist, and if I remember correctly, my father had mentioned them a few times. I wonder if they Do have a connection with everything else. I think.. It's only one way to find out.
Her thoughts trailed off, just with a slower movement had turned her body towards Naya and looked at her direction intensely. Chytrhea was unsure of how to tell This minor detail, after all, perhaps she will be called crazy. That wouldn't be the first time.

After taking a deep breath, Chytrhea's lips were slightly trembling, just thinking of Their name leaving her lips. She begun to feel nervous, trying her hardest to keep composure and soon, let her gaze to fall upon the main door.

" The aux-eaters have something to do with all of this..The Moirguut. " Whispering the name, Chytrhea had gazed back at Naya for a brief moment, with a rather faint smile. Already, a nod had taken form at her stomach, anxiety spreading quicker than a virus.

Suddenly, a loud thud came from behind the door, then a stronger one causing on the left side of the door, to appear a crack into the wood. Fallowed by one last hit against the door, before it got knocked down to the ground causing dust to rise into the air. From the impact, Chytrhea's eyes once again had widen in terror, as if seeing a ghost and made a step back. The dark figure, stood tall at the door's frame, having a rather heavy armour to cover his body.

Time had frozen.

 

[unanun]

A dark and stormy night in Riven, tan

"K-Kindly One?" Naya looked at the one framed by the candlelight. Their eyes were coal black, and they gripped the frame as if their knees were weak. Inside their lantern-aux, a centipede crawled, casting its enormous shadow onto the walls of Chytrhea's root cave. The Kindly One's aux was infected.

Naya gripped her saber and dropped low. The Kindly One stepped into the room.

Naya's eyes slipped from the Kindly One to follow a drop of water from the tip of the scythe. Her breath roared in her ears, eyes blinking in slow motion as she twisted sideways to avoid the curved blade swinging for her neck. As she fell, the saber came up slashing, and the Kindly - now Corrupted - One followed the momentum of its swing to parry her saber. If a Kaustrian saw their fight, he may have tipped them a coin for their busking. They flowed in circles around each other, however, tracing out an intricate dance of death.

"NAYA!" The Corrupted One was thrown to the other side of the room, Ash rearing up behind them. "CHYTRHEA!" He grabbed the historian and the two bounded out of the room into the night. They ran in the direction they landed, the monster behind them flowing through the grass with the same noise as reaping wheat.

They did not trip in the darkness, but were simply outmaneuvered by the Corrupted One. As it bounded off the trees, scythe pulled back, a bag opened above them and out poured thick, heavy black, falling around them and hanging in the air. The Corrupted One thrashed, then slogged, then slowed, then stopped, frozen in mid swing.

"Quiet." It could not have been the night, or else they would still have their sight. In the center of the black was the Corrupted One. She moved inside, and poured tincture of poppy into the frozen mouth.

"Lady Ironblood?" Ash balked, setting down Chytrhea. He could not comprehend, so he asked most inappropriate and simple question that came to mind. "But .. you are not an apothecary ..." Cora flashed inside his chest.

"You'd be surprised how quickly you can learn if you need to." Her smile was sad and stressed.

"But the black ..."

"Reinkolstoff. It puts them into a suspended state." She leaned into the Kindly One's ear and whispered. "Sleep, on the morrow ... and makes them vulnerable to hypnotic suggestion. If they remember, if they tell their hivemind .. we will be found. They must believe that nothing happened."

"Come." The black was already at the Corrupted One's waist, and the pupils in his glassy eyes were returning.

Unsatisfying conclusion, green

As four they paced around the sphere until Medwick broke them up, sitting them down at random positions to avoid accidental incantations. The girls watched as Medwick tossed various things at the Sphere. Aside from his misses and twitches, it functioned like a prism for any and all materials. Iron and ash from the fire combined into crude steel. Glass was separated into flames and a black, shiny material.

Medwick poked the ball over simple spell circle that produced butterflies, glowing motes to delight Pegulian children. Instead, it shot dragons of light into the sky that delighted the dracling in Caoimhe's arms, while the area around it turned charcoal black.

"There is no way." The Pegulis scholar paced, agitated.

"That ..." Shardis' tail swished.

"There is no way ..."

"That ..."

Medwick continued. "People, geniuses of our time, have given their entire lives in the fruitless pursuit of it. It has eluded us for so long that we began to accept it as a philosophical representation of what we don't know."

"So what is it?"

He rounded on them, the force of his voice nearly equal to his advent. "This right here .. this .. this is the end result of knowing everything! This thing was crafted by an omniscient scholar - inside it, all knowledge resides. It knows how to do anything. It can make everything. Its .. its existence invalidates all pursuit of knowledge! We won't ever again need to study or learn or experiment; we can just go back to being apes, or turn back into the mud. If .. IF Libra's relic truly is ..." He sat down, dizzy from shock.

"If it is what you say, we are still here. And we are still living, debating, still pursuing knowledge." Shardis placed a hand on Medwick's shoulder.

He didn't seem to hear Shardis. "Yet .. " His eyes were drawn magnetically to it. "Yet ..." The physical manifestation of all knowledge lay before him. Not just a concept, not just an abstraction impossible to grasp.

"It doesn't belong here. Not in Sunne." Medwick stuffed the ball into a water-filled bladder and sent them off to dream.

Caiomhe and Aerie laid in sleep. In between them Libras rested. Caiomhe's dreams endlessly replayed her voyage into the black, her lungs repeatedly filling with water and her burning chest. Aerie's parents pulled her, begging her to fulfill her familial duty. She heard the cry of a million and one Avians, her grandfather, as the city fell again and again onto the tectonic hand that now grasped it. The Libras felt their life, and did what it had always done. It separated, purified, and synthesized.

Caoimhe and Aerie ceased to exist, and something new was created in their place, a new life curled around the sphere.

 

[E.T.]

A thin hissed passed silently from between Belphebe's compressed lips. A gesture of disappointment that went unseen by the gathering as they themselves were still looking at the intruder. It had been an unusually long time since she had last seen her friend and although she was very reluctant to admit the attachment that hiss was more reveling than perhaps she intended. Either way her attention was called away from such thoughts once again by the nocturne Zovalias. She had never cared for the merchant, then again if she cared to ask around she was pretty certain that there were very few who cared for Zovalias. But for better or much more likely for worse he was a merchant, a merchant that had enough power and influence that he had to have an eye kept on him.

"Then let us continue. Belphebe, the maps?" Goodness even his voice was a distasteful sneer. Carefully tempered reserve kept her from doing anything rash but had she been less practiced she would have snatched back her hand in disgust. But she had to tread carefully, much had happened since she had managed to find her way back to the Silver Wings brothel. Plans laid, a new deal made, it was still far to early to say how long it might last however there was the potential for profit and the potential for power. Ah, but she was getting ahead of herself, there was a deal to be made in the now one that could also prove profitable.

"Of course." She said handing the treasure over to the vile nocturne managing an almost pleasant smile. Loosing sole possession of the map left some bitterness on her tongue but it was very clear that if she tried to keep the map to herself she would make some even bitterer enemies. One or two could be dealt with but if she incurred the wrath of the entire merchant class of Hosia she might find herself in more trouble than was worth. Sharing a month or two of plans would keep the others happy and keep her in a game she might very well have barred herself from.

"I do hope this contribution is remembered." She could almost here the intake of breath as the other merchants realized that they were indeed going to have to compensate her, perhaps a bit more than they would wish. Zovalias eagerly strode to the table that had been set up in almost the exact center of the room, and spread the rolled parchment out for all to see. Initial excitement holding on he deflated slightly as he realized that there were only enough here to give them a month or so of reliable planning. After that they would have to repeat this process over again. However a curt smile from the Mistress told him that pushing the matter would not get him far, at least not during this meeting. All the merchants gathered round however Belphebe held back waiting at the edge of the crowd. She could already see the masses of boats sneaking out of the harbor and into the Red Nation. No matter she would be ready, tip the scales in her favor, ah if her sisters could only see her now.

 

[Requiem]

The Smugglers, darkorange

As a group they stood, broken, exhausted, and slightly scared. They all wondered what had been the cause of all of the bodies they had found while they ran. The forests of Viridos were merciless, but nothing they knew of left bodies like that. Nassad kept repeating that horses were to blame. The Viridosians had heard of Amaltas, and of the crimes he had committed. The stories of him once used to frighten little children into behaving. But that was why he was locked up, or why he was supposed to have been locked up, kept away in a prison no one was supposed to be able to escape.

Of course, standing in front of the great black unicorn, they were clearly wrong about that. Amaltas looked them over before continuing. "You see, recently I acquired something to bring all of Viridos to its knees." He said, having the group lead further down the beach. Ayanne had thought she had learned fear when she had burned the images of the grievous into her mind, but this was a different sort of fear. Hesitantly, in a child like gesture, she slipped trembling fingers into Requiem's hand. She tried to do similar with Nassad on her other side, an attempt at a show of comradery, but the slave driver jerked his hand aside, possibly still blaming them for not waking to prevent Tamaa's death.

"Something of an ancient and terrible power," Amaltas continued. "You lucky three, get to help me test it. It will be a most momentous occasion!" The great horse proclaimed loudly.

Not that the group had much of a choice, they listened to Amaltas as they were led along the beach to their inevitable doom, each considering the actions they could take to bring the monster down. Each mind calculating the odds of survival and understanding that like it or not they would have to work together. Strange really, how unable to communicate aloud each still knew what part they would have to play, or maybe it as the urgency of the moment.

It didn't take long before the group was brought to a place where a bleached skeleton was half buried in the sand. The only thing of particular concern was an exceedingly creepy black growth of a creature, clinging to it. Each of the three studied it in their own way, taking in whatever details they believed might give them a chance at escape and survival.

Amaltas stood before them once more, directing their attention to skeleton. "That, my dear prisoners, is soon to be your fate."

That was all it took. The small group of survivors had their instincts kick in. Two of the three activated their advents, with Nassad creating binding magical chains pinning the Unicorn fast, preventing him from moving, and Ayanne following up, almost purely on instinct with a rush of exceeding stamina.

What happened next had not been her original intention when first acting, she had originally believed the unicorn to be a flesh and blood creature, had planned to use her abilities to over exert his muscles and leave Amaltas unable to do more than move at a crawl for days, but the moment she touched her hands to his flank she knew, and she changed course in an instant. It was fortunate Calla Marshden had been her instructor, anyone less and she would have failed. Amaltas was a being of plants, Tamaa's death suddenly made sense.

What Ayanne used now was not strictly healing, and was technically forbidden, but Calla had always stated that to know what to heal and how, one must also know what never to do. She used that knowledge now, used a modification of one of her usual spells to over stimulate the growth enzymes in Amaltas' body, causing his hooves to grow downward at an exceptionally high rate, rooting him to the spot. Simultaneously she rerouted his normal growth pathways so that the tendrils that made up his legs tangled together locking his limbs. If they were lucky she had bought them a few days time until the unicorn's body righted itself. It would, eventually.

Behind her Nassad shouted. His advent was almost up and Ayanne needed to be beyond Almaltas' reach before that happened. She needed just a few more seconds. Sweat beaded on the slave driver's forehead as he held the chains for every last second he had. If only the idiot girl had gone for a place further away from the head than the left shoulder. Nassad shouted again. Ayanne remained still. A third shout.

She leapt away, throwing herself backwards into the dirt seconds before the unicorn's head came slamming into the space she had occupied seconds before. Nassad was quick to reach down and yank her roughly to her feet. Shoving her back towards the pathway and yelling for the pirate to get his butt in gear. Amaltas quivered, but was held. Ayanne had done enough in her minute for them to get away.

While Amaltas was preoccupied by being bound, the pirate found another purpose. In the minute the others were busy he had realized the importance of where they were and what they were seeing. The remains were there, the weapon still trying to leech what it could from them. All things considered, Requiem didn't really want that thing sucking the life out of him, so he tore off his cloak and wrapped the main bone the thing was attached to in it. It was tucked safely, completely covered, in his arms by the time Nassad started shouting that they had to get away, and Requiem followed hot on their heals.

With nothing left for them there but a rather painful death, the group made their way back into the forest, hoping that they would be headed in the right direction to hit the city as soon as possible. They couldn't afford another run-in with the horse-lord. Yet the only path available to them seemed to be the one they had followed to get there. When Requiem suggested deviating from the now known path in hope it might throw off any pursuit should the unicorn get free sooner that Ayanne's estimated two days, Nassad protested, calling back something about sentinels and boarder guards which the pirate seemed to understand. Ayanne shook her own head. She knew where they were only by direction and what she had been told of the boarder. Unlike the other two she had never crossed it before, either by land or sea.

"I vote we try," she gasped between panting breaths, "If we get caught the two of you are my rescuers and benefactors. Surely the daughter of the Marshden clan would not be in trouble for trying to get home!?"

"You don't understand," Nassad snarled back, "What the boarder guard actually is. We got out in one piece, now your better pray to that deity of yours that we can get back in similar condition." At the moment the situation was too urgent for him to consider that if what she had just said was true, the girl could be worth a hefty ransom.

 

[Pastor ćhoi]

SB-BYTYSTLOM

No matter how much distance they sought to place, the survivors could still hear the angered screeching of the unicorn loud and clear, as if he were jailed but an acre of forest away. He made sounds that no horse could -or should- ever produce, and the forest shuddered before. But under it all was another sound, of the scraping movement of heavy roots; the sentinels knew, and the sentinels were alert and ready. But then, the screeching faded after a bit, and then there was only the forest again. Did he scream himself hoarse? Did he realize that no amount of noise would edge him out of-

"You said 2 days!" Nassad cried. "You said 2 days!"

They were tired. They were afraid. They had braved the poison woods, and they were down by one. They were beyond done. And as the great shadow passed over them, they ran anyway.

Requiem was the first to get a good look at the thing that should have been a pursuing Amaltas, but wasn't. It had the unicorn's shape, but it looked like...His glamor was falling apart. The horse-kin had glamors to charm the horses into obedience, and his was falling apart, and there was something underneath, something that wore the shape of a horse but little else. And he ran not like a horse now, but like a lopsided spider who had spent too much time on the web, and he stumbled and he paused abruptly and his gait was all wrong, and Requiem knew then that Ayanne's advent had held strong.

Until Amaltas chewed off his own legs.

Jagged stumps where the wood had fused together were bleeding sap, and his right leg was missing entirely, but he still moved with an unbalanced, savage speed, and he was gaining ever slowly. His head came down hard and fast and he took a wild swing of a bite, and Ayanne was a few inches away from losing her head.

"Got an idea," Requiem said, panting, "We need to split. I have it, he'll follow me. Get to safety"

"But-"

But Requiem had already moved off the given path, and Amaltas halted for a moment, stared back and forth between the newly split group, and then followed Requiem in pursuit. The great head came down again, and this time it was the horn that threatened to skewer him from the back, and Requiem wasn't quite ready to discover how his diluted nocturne bloodline would fare against the Unicorn's purifying powers. Just a bit more...

And then...

Requiem activated his advent. He was a specter now, a memory-

And Amaltas wasn't.

And the great tree that they passed wasn't just a tree either.

The sentinel -the treeant- punched Amaltas in the face, sending him flying bodily back, as Requiem passed freely under the aegis of his advent.

Guardian, Amaltas said, struggling to his feet, or what was left of it anyway. You are making a child's error. Your true quarry is escaping. Come not between the sawhorse and his prey.

"Prey?" The treeant boomed. "There is naught but the criminal Amaltas here, and his death."

Guardian, for the goddess we both serve, I shall say it once more: Come not between the sawhorse and his prey, lest-

The treeant struck him again.

Activating his advent, Amaltas struck back.

 

[Peregrine]

Earlier That Day, brown

Shekar followed Zovalias deep into the forest, until the branches overhead wove so tightly together that not even the light of the sun could reach the forest floor. Shekar was forced to cling close to her unwanted guide, and even Nox's light seemed to dim.

For a while longer they progressed in silence, the only sound the thump of Shekar's heart, and the heavy bass beat of Zovalias' feet. But their progress was suddenly brought to a halt by the sight of a faint light penetrating through the undergrowth.

"We are here."

"A light? You brought me here to show me a light?"

"Perhaps. You will see." And, offering no more information, Zovalias pushed through the undergrowth and into a small clearing. In the center stood a prism, glowing with many shades of chromatic light. Shekar covered her eyes slightly with one hand, giving her eyes a moment to adjust, before she followed after Zovalias.

Strangely, the nocturne did not seem affected by the light, but it brought every ghastly detail of his face and body into stark relief. She stood next to him reluctantly, keeping her eyes focused on one of the faces of the many sided prism. It took her a moment to understand exactly what she was seeing.

"That is... Riven."

"Yes."

"But I have seen a scrying glass before. You have still failed to hold up your end of the bargain, Zovalias."

"This is not a scrying glass." From the ground Zovalias picked up a moss covered stone, before hurling it at the reflection of Riven. For a moment it hung suspended in the air, seeming trapped by the prism, but then it suddenly vanished. Within the image, a stone was flying. It hit a sapling tree, tearing a number of its leaves to shreds.

Shekar's mind went blank.

"That is something you have never seen before."

Shekar's Basement, saddlebrown

If it were not for the watchful eyes of Zovalias and Teadoir's representative, the meeting might very well have devolved into chaos at that moment. All of the merchants who had gathered had consciously understood they were coming to a meeting not as individuals but as a part of the group. They had accepted the inherent risk of smuggling. But they had not been expecting to have to pay one of their own before the smuggling had even started.

It was not for nothing that Zovalias was one of the greatest of the lesser merchants in Hosia. He knew that none of the merchants here would be willing to give Belphebe monetary compensation for the maps, not when they had been driven to smuggling by financial desperation. At the same time, they would all need the other maps Belphebe had in her possession. The ragged gash of his mouth spread into a sickly leer. The solution was obvious.

"Of course this will not be forgotten. You shall be one of the individuals who is in charge of keeping things on track, and making sure everything goes according to plan." The offer was obvious. Belphebe would be one of the few in their number who was in a position to choose what came back through the blockade, and when. It was a position that, if used right, could turn any smuggling operation to her advantage. There were a few unhappy mutters in the room, but no one had a better method of repayment to offer.

"If we may now continue?"

But the next person to bring the meeting to a halt, surprisingly, was Shekar herself. "Not yet, Zovalias. There is one more thing you have to tell us." Zovalias turned in her direction, his face as unreadable as ever. "Why are you going to all this effort for smuggling? There must be something else. What is your endgame? ..."

The South Shore of Hosia, goldenrod

The rowboat that pulled in silently through the dark waters was greeted by only a single man, despite the important cargo it carried. The man who stepped off the boat carried himself with the bearing of kings, but his mud-stained and torn cloak spoke of hard journeys and even harder times.

The two men walked away from the boat and vanished into the trees. Only their voices could be heard. For that night, they might as well have been figments of shadow.

"I was not expecting you to come in person, Lord Nordrin."

"And yet, I am here. And the ports of Viridos are still closed, Sundel. The lesser houses grow more uncontrollable the longer our trade routes are sealed off."

"You think I do not know this? But Tattersal and his blockade are, for the moment, completely untouchable. There are plans in the works, but until they come to fruition the best we can hope to do is work around it."

"Plans, plans, and more plans. It is always plans with you, but there is never any action."

"My actions cannot be rash when one wrong move would destroy all of the Houses. And if all of that wasn't enough, the horses..."

"Horses? Are you telling me that horses are stopping you from taking action!"

"Lower your voice! And do not make light of matters about which you know nothing."

There was a moment of silence before the second voice spoke again. "Have you heard word of Tamaa and Nassad?"

"Why would I hear word of Avarath merchants?"

"They have vanished from Avarath. The best word on the matter is that they were coming here."

"There are many things in the jungles of Viridos, Nordin. Things with which outsiders could not contend."

"Neither of them are stupid. They would have found a guide."

"There are some things from which even a guide could not protect them."

"Like horses."

"Yes," Lord Sundel replied, his voice serious. "Like the horses."

Silently the two men turned and moved deeper into the poison forest. They had plans to discuss. Plans to bring their houses greater glory than had ever been known to their families before.

Edelon, forestgreen

The emissary showed up at the General's door and knocked three times before entering. For a time the forest kin ignored the man waiting for his attention, but eventually he turned.

The man bowed deeply, long beard nearly brushing the ground. "Teadoir sends his regards, and his apologies for being unable to attend in person."

"I care not for his regard, or his apologies. If he wanted to speak to me, he should have come himself."

"But such was impossible. I promise you, what I have to say will be of equal interest to you."

The general regarded him for a moment. "Very well. Speak."

"Ships are going to start... vanishing from Hosia. When they reappear, they will have things on them. Things that you might find... valuable."

"The ports are closed. Viridos will not trade with the outside world."

"Of course not. No one is going to challenge you, or your blockade. But, if you were to, say, make no changes to the blockade, despite these unusual disappearing ships, the ships might come to Edelon with a very valuable delivery." From deep within his robes, the emissary withdrew a deed, offered as payment for the lives of a group of liars. A deed for the Dorgard steel that Tattersal needed to craft for the Kindly Ones.

"And these ships would be certain to find their way up the river?"

"Undoubtedly, General."

Tattersal rolled up the deed, and carefully slid it into a stack of papers, before turning away from the man. For one moment the emissary waited, before he let out a sigh of relief and quietly retreated from the room.

The ships were safe. For now.

Three Days Later

End of Chapter 5​