Spirits of the Earth

He was a man of few ideas and of few words. Kumori Umbra. A name he held as dear to him as he did of the memories of his wife, fuzzy memories that faded in and out of his mind. It was only when he wasn't struggling to recall anything, that the images faded back in again, grainy sepia petals that were as incandescent as the biting winds. What a meaningless life it was. To be raised back up after an accident, the details of which he couldn't even remember, and to have been reanimated when he sure as hell should've been dead.

And reanimated to what? A bloody shadow of a being, that's what. The number of times he'd raised his head to the heavens, and cried out bloody oaths. It wasn't the way of the warrior to commit suicide. Nay, the only conditions that accepted it were in the name of honour.

And so he was left to wander the bitter earth, searching for meaning in the life he hated and reviled with passion. Could he really think of himself as still human, when the spectrum of his emotions was so jaded to have been reduced to bitterness and hate?

In the black swarthy clothing that could be bandages for all he cared, with his cloak wrapped tightly around his body, Kumori made quite the formidable traveller. He almost always had his cloak pulled up, and as much of his face covered as possible. The sword he kept strung to his back, the heirloom of his family, one of the few artefacts that remained from his past.

What he really wanted to know was why he'd been remade the way he was. The magic that had reanimated him was shadow magic, and so thus, he'd become tainted, impure. A being with cells aligned to shadows. He heard whispers around him whenever he walked through a town- "shadow man, shadow spawn, the man who can change into shadows..." but he regarded the talk as much as he regarded the people. Quite the loner was he. He cared not for the aura of mystery that seemed to surround him and envelop him like a shadow, nor for his appearance, nor for anything, other than finding the meaning of his miserable warrior's existence.

So...after all of this, it came as quite a surprise to Kumori to find himself in the middle of a tropical jungle, on an island in the middle of nowhere. He was often deep in thought for days on end; he never knew where he was at all. Good thing no one had ever relied upon him for a sense of direction then.

Kumori cut his way through the jungle, using the swish and the slice of the motion of his silver sword as a means of mediation. It was quite therapeutic really. Nothing but the tropical voices- the bird shrieks, the natter of the monkeys, the whisper of the trees and the whistle of his sword as it sliced through delicious undergrowth.

He didn't know what he was searching for here, but instinct was the main driving force. Eventually, after a few hours of deep sweating, in which he still hadn't removed any of his clothing, Kumori came to a set of ruins. They were beautiful, pale stones that were draped in vines and years of neglect. History breathed the air, and the speckled light fell across the stone, warming the secrets that were kept locked in this arbour.

Sitting down on one of the ruins, Kumori removed a water skin and drank heavily, thinking back to the ship which he'd hitched a ride on, yet another ship where no one had paid any attention to him, as long as he'd kept the rats at bay. Imagine if his ancestors could see what he was using his sword for now!

((Hope this post was OK- sorry if it's too long, I tend to write long intro posts! Didn't include too much action, so you can respond as you see fit!))

Lazarus was never one too fond of sleep, but once every few weeks, he found it not avoidable. He disliked it so, because when he slept the jungle (quite accidentally) whispered lies into his pointed drooping-with-sleep ears. The warmth of the jungle was that of his mother curled ay his side, the rich scents of mango and sweet flowers were that of his sister's skin, and the rough but sanded stone of the temple floor was that of his father's hard un-kept scales. Lazarus would always wake expecting them to be there, suffering a few moments of sleepy confusion before reality seeped back into his mind.

No one was there; he was all alone. The temples and houses were not as grand as he recalled them, but crumpled and vine-wearing beasts huddled carefully against the overgrowth of the jungle. Lazarus did his best to upkeep them though, after all they were all that was left of the Extraho Liberi tribe.

But this time, it was something in particular that woke him. The moss under the scales of his underbelly hummed, the lithe baby-green vines at his finger tips murmuring in discomfort. Lazarus lifted his heavy head, mindful not to let his huge white elk-ish horns catch on any low hanging vines. The whole forest seemed to whisper to him that someone new was treading on Aura earth, and ripping up plant life as they went.  

Lazarus stood up with a cavernous yawn, showing for a moment the sharpness of his white pointed teeth, and the startling pink of his long forked tongue. His pale tan, near blond hair fell in a straight sheet down the pale expanse of his human spine, catching only slightly on the intricate tangle of his horns. His right hand rubbed the sleep from his eyes, while the left (elongated and scaled, claws on the tips, not a save appendage to bring near to his eyes) sat stretching and un-stretching at his side. At about his waist, his human appearance halted all together. He was built like a centaur, only with dragon instead of hoarse; His scales were smooth and glass-like, woven over his entire dragon half, save for his underbelly. They were clear, but shot through with lines of bright milky green. Under them, darker smoother scales could be seen.

The moss and little vines that carpeted the temple floor shifted about so as not to be crushed under his huge dragon claws as he walked. Horns includes, Lazarus stood an impressive seven feet tall, although the horns added at least a foot. The whole village was of course built for creatures his size, so he seldom needed to crouch through a doorway.

Stepping out into the speckled sun, his scales lit up brilliantly to greet the golden coins of light. Lazarus' green snake-like eyes scanned the surrounding area, until settling onto an unfamiliar form. Was he a hunter? A Pirate? All sorts of unsavory people stumbled across his island of Aura, so he had learned to be suspicious. Descending the huge slope of stone steps, Lazarus focused on the new arrival, trying to sense anything from him he could. He thought perhaps, there might even be more new arrivals on his island, but thought it wiser to focus only on the one at hand.

"What is your business here, traveler?" he asked once he was close enough, not in a friendly voice but not in an unkind one, either. His tail, a huge and powerful thing, swung leisurely behind his back legs as he waited for a response.

(( OOC- It seemed alright to me!! ^__^ I do really long beginning posts also, so no worries xDD So... I suppose we wait till everyone has responded and then stick to the same order we started in? I just wanna be clear so I dont mess up xD ))

Lyra was an exceptionally light traveler. You could tell that just by looking at her. The plain white dress that she wore, obviously second-hand from some one much larger than the nymph, was the first indication of the overal fantastic simplicity of her appearance. The wind tossed loose, airy cloth one way or the other to reveal the outline of her lithe form. The second indication was the fact that the only items of necessity she carried were contained within a small thin-leather bag slung over her shoulder and across her chest, its bottom drooping slightly for its few contents. The third indication, which caught most people in a very strange and disconcerting way, was Lyra herself, fair and wide-eyed.

What could you carry when you had - when you needed so little? Very few people could wear such an assured and open expression as Lyra. She wasn't sure if it was something to be proud of or not, and cared too little to ponder it much more than that.

At the moment Lyra was doing exactly that: not caring. She smiled up at the canopy above, sitting indian-style in the brush with her fingers playing at the surface of a stream to her left, and listened. Listening and looking were two of things that the nymph was absolutely best at.

She turned, eyes never leaving the great green canopy, and slowly extended her legs into the water. It reached past her bare feet and up to her ankles, its chill traveling up her legs and her back and fixing absolutely everything, it seemed. She gave a small shiver and a breathy laugh. This was not her river, but it was so reminiscent of home. She was a pale and almost ghostly figment against the warmth and activity of her surroundings, but as her gaze traveled with the trickle of the stream, rushing past the smooth pebbles of the bank with urgency, her features lit up, pink and lively. Lyra stood up quickly, balancing herself among the stones and began to walk. Her feet parted the stream with each step. Her pace grew in bounds, racing the flow of the miniature river.

Islands were marvelous, she decided then and there. Of course, islands were also isolated. It hadn't occurred to Lyra until the next few minutes of fleet-footedness had passed that islands were often isolated for good reason. The trees began to thin here and there. The padding and splashing of the fair-haired girl's footsteps slowed until their addition was absent from the constant din of the jungle.

The stream curved around what Lyra would describe, in her polished and eloquent way, as a very big rock. Or rather, a series of very big crumbling stones that were probably once part of a collectively massive...rock. Or ten. This peculiar break in the scenery appeared to be the small beginnings of something that had very evidently ended. Tilting her head to one side, Lyra crouched down and climbed up the wooded bank, propping herself up against one of the large cut stones and moving along its the other side by sliding her back along its smooth surface and taking side-long steps, her head tilted back to get a full view of the other stones stacked atop it in towering, precise order. She reached the opposite side of the strange pillar and pushed up off of it, venturing in past the very edge of the ruins. Lyra waltzed around each crumbling shadow of a structure as she passed, lips parting and grey eyes widening and wondering. With the stark exception of the tune Lyra hummed lightly, it was oddly silent here, where the vines and the leaves were slowly fighting for dominance against the echoes of the past. It was silent here, where there was supposedly no one.

The Image of Darkness hopped easily off the boat and surveryed the beach. It looked like someone was here before him, blast. Nobody was going to steal his prey. He sat on the beach waiting for dave to arrive. The skeleton had not been allowed on the ship so had had to walk underwater all the way from the mainland. He wondered how many skeletal fish would be swimming around the ocean, it was an amusing thought.

As he lay on the sand waiting, he got to thinking of his time as a child. His adoptive parents had never been sure whether he was a boy or not-nobody ever seemed to be able to see him properly. All they could tell was that he was darker than black, which made his black hair look lighter than what it really was. They had sent him to the Necromancer Academy mainly to get him away from the servents, who he - or she - loved to torment with images of total darkness (a colour darker than black and oposite to light). He grinned at the thought of them trying to explain that at night the world went dark.

It was a shame that he had been expelled, it wasn't his fault that the other boys were sexually attracted him, he hadn't goaded them - much. At the school he had been taught how to hone his unusual ability, often at the detriment of the teachers, and to become the nobelman he was meant to be. He didn't really want to become a nobel, they were so boring and always had to wear clothes. While trecking, people would come and go so he didn't have to worry about protecting their "innocent minds".

Dave finally walked up on the beach with bits of coral on his scalp and seagrass in his ribs. The Image of Darkness (or darkness for short) rasied an eyebrow at his longtime friend. 'Why the hell do you have coral attatched to your skull?'
'It looks like a crown, a bone crown.'
Darkness groaned, 'we'd best be off. I want that creature before anyone else.'

They plodded along the beach towards a small stream, the best way of getting to the ruins. There were a lot of birds singing and making a lot of racket; you didn't get that in Necromantia. he galnced over to dave and noticed the skeleton eyeing a particularly colourful, large bird. The bird would of course be dead then undead within a few seconds. he stood and watched the scpcticle of the bird having all it's flesh dried up so that only skin, feathers and bone remained. It was a clean job, Dave must have been practicing a lot while under the ocean. The undead bird flew to Dave's scapula and clung there.

'Impressive.'
'I could try killing you again if you wanted?'
Darkness laughed, stepping over a large vine, 'do you really want to try that?'
The last and only time Dave had tried to kill and resurrect him, he had been challenging Dave to attack him, he had wanted to see what it was like to die. Everything had gone black, no darker than black. It was not death though, just Darkness's magic turning back on itself. He had woken to see Dave passed out, his hands still clutching his head. The skeleton refused to say what happened to him but darkness guessed that he had been attacked by the...darkness within Darkness.
'Er... Could you control the er, "darkness"'
'Maybe later, when there is a team of necromancers ready to resurrect you.'

A few days later they managed to got to a large outcrop of rocks where the ruins would begin. 'Stay quiet Dave, no killing until we have the creature.' He looked over at Dave, who now had 2 undead and 6 skeletal birds clinging to whatever bone they could find... and a strange lizard curled up in his pelvis. He did not want to know why the lizard was chewing on Dave's pelvis.

"What is your business here, traveler?"

Kumori sat up straight, startled. It looked as though he'd fallen into one of his reveries again, when he just sat somewhere and became so deep in his thoughts that he lost all sense of time and place. This type of meditation, he supposed, was probably one of the techniques he'd learned as a warrior prior to this new phase of his bitter existence.

His eyes roamed his immediate surroundings, to the dew drop ferns, the lush leafy foliage, and to the blossoming vines that draped the ruins and trees. They took in the teeming life, the flittering parrots that splashed their gaudy colours across the jungle leaves, the beetles that skittered across the rich floor, and finally landed upon a being who was stood in a clearing, near to a shaded part of the ruins.

At the strangeness of the being's appearance, Kumori immediately stood up, hand rushing to his sword, but he restrained himself from instinctively drawing it. The being was much bigger than he was, and appeared to be much stronger. It wouldn't do to accidentally threaten a being who intimidated him by ten times.

"I have no business here that would cross paths with yours," he replied in a clear, neutral voice. When he spoke, Kumori's voice was quite normal sounding and not really scary at all. However, his tone was dull and dead, lifeless and lost. His voice had none of the sparkle and vibrancy of other voices, no hints of the man he used to be.

He felt his shadow shimmer slightly, a tiny indication of the darkness that lay within him. He'd never tried to use this magic before, wasn't even sure if it could be used. Ever since his reanimation, whoever it was had refashioned his body so it was a blend of human and shadow magic. Half human, half shadow.

Kumori Umbra. Shadow.

What the hell was his real name?!

Frowning, Kumori shook off this thought, and returned his attention to the strange half man, half dragon creature. The being was stood upon the ground, as if he owned the place. Well, Kumori was merely a stranger passing through, and didn't wish to start a fight. He had no idea of how territorial this being was; he'd never even seen one like this before! He'd await the being's response and if it was neutral, then perhaps there wouldn't be any trouble.

'Focus,' he told himself, 'focus on this... human,' (he ventured a guess, but suddenly he could sense a flicker of darkness in the being) but it was hard. The plants of the island whispered to him insistently, so much so his pointed ears folded down in an attempt to push away the sudden onslaught of sound. Never before had so many visitors come all at once! The bright river lilies murmured about a lithe creature skimming through the waters, while over their soft voice came the harsh shuffling of palm tree leaves, who spoke in sheer panic. This startled him so much Lazarus turned towards the side of the island that flattened into a white-sand beach, peering with slitted eyes into the shadows the tears tossed between themselves.

Something was there, something that bled a hostile tang into the rich tropical air. It put him on edge, so much so that Lazarus almost raised his clawed dragon-hand in attack, but then he remembered the creature close at hand, the one who would most likely read an attack in such a motion.

It was hard to concentrate, with the feeling of so many eyes on him, but Lazarus tried to compose himself, his powerful front legs shifting slightly. The human (creature?) before him rippled with some dark magic, and this tugged his attention more strongly then the hidden visitors he couldn't see.

"... Any business you have here would cross paths with me, traveler. This is my island, every breath of life here under my protection. If you plan to stay, kindly tell me of your purpose," his voice was quiet, not kind but not unkind, either. He kept up a neutral tone, not wanting to stir up an unnecessary fight.

Especially when there was so much unfamiliar life on the island.

Lyra sighed deeply as she sat down, elevated and presented about ten feet over the surrounding ruins, which were growing taller themselves the further she walked. She sat on the top platform of a grand post-and-lintel, appearing to section off the much larger, almost city-like center area of the ruins where the stones were arranged in a more monumental fashion and must have once served higher functions than the buildings in the outer-ring. Her legs dangled over the side of the raised platform on its two similarly shaped pillars, swinging back and forth very slightly. Blood trickled down her ankle, curving at her heel and surrendering tiny, bright crimson drops onto the churned earth below.

After the surprisingly short walk, even for any ordinary creature, the Naiad supposed that the edge of the ruins must have extended much further before but had since been overcome by the teeming vegetation which threatened its mark upon history daily. It was an easy, brisk walk for her.

So easy, in fact, that she'd had enough energy to impulsively seek out a better "looking place" by way of climbing the stone remains like some sort of playground. She had scrambled along the objects and more miniature structure abstracted from their original purpose by sheer decay but still bearing, here and there, the decorations and designs of some strange culture, and finally managed to reach the highest post in current view due to some luckily placed or overturned objects. Unfortunately, Lyra hadn't paid attention long enough during the fun little climb to prevent her ankle from being cut a bit on a broken or jagged something or other. The nymph hadn't even noticed the pain yet, too entranced by the new view.

Looking out through the natural windows the branches of the trees created, she could see by looking over her shoulder the framed tops of the smaller buildings back the way she had come for a good way until shadowed by the prevailing canopy. Turning back to face the new direction of the widening stream toward which she would continue in a moment, Lyra unstrapped her small bag and set it down beside her on the warm stone, its contents clinking brightly slightly. She laid back, the short width of the lintel platform allowing the length of her body to cross it and her pale blonde hair to fall back over the opposite edge. She reached over to her bag, lifted open its flap and extracted a glass bottle from it with two long fingers. Clasping it with both hands like a keepsake, she lifted the bottle to her lips and drank half the water it contained. Ordinary, very important and very specific water as it was.

She felt, then, as if there were others. A sharp breath and clearing of her pretty little head enlightened her to a certain conviction and destination in the flow of the stream below, grown from a trickling. She listened, eyes narrowing slightly.

Another few drops of nymph-blood fell to the ground, slowed and seemingly thickened now. Suddenly, Lyra sat bolt upright, lifted the offending appendage up straight while the other leg dangled still, and pronounced rather surprised, "Ow!"

Struck with a new bout of conviction, Lyra scurried off the platform and padded into the stream, her pace much steadier than before. She listened to the water as she walked, the feeling that something lovely (that is, something new) might happen creeping upon her.

OOC: Dave is an NPC, if you want to play around with him, feel free.

BIC: Dave was tugging at his shoulder as Darkness looked towards the creature and a vampire. What would a vampire be doing this far from Necromantia? Probably the same thing as him: capturing the half-dragon.

'What is it?' the Image of Darkness hissed at Dave.
Dave pointed towards a young sprite walking about the ruins. She wasn't his type but she was bleeding. Blood always got dave excited.
'You can have her after we capture the creature.'

He gestured to Dave and came up closer to the ruins, hiding behind whatever building would give him cover. He needed to know his way around if he were to capture the beast (his words, not mine). Much of the place was in ill-repair and vines controlled most of the buildings. Other than the two here, they were possibly the only outsiders to come here in centuries. It was a shame to remove the place's keeper but he had his orders. The jungle would have to survive without the half-dragon.

While lost in his thought, Dave had attempted to catch the nymph. He now had his arms around her. Dave never learnt.

((Hehe mdu, Kumori isn't a vampire, he's...well, he was a warrior who got saved by some kind of necromancer. The necromancer used dark magic to bring him back from the brink of death, which is why he's half man half shadow. Must get his profile up sometime!! >.<))

"... Any business you have here would cross paths with me, traveler. This is my island, every breath of life here under my protection. If you plan to stay, kindly tell me of your purpose."

"Would you believe me if I said that I have no purpose in life?" Kumori asked flatly, his eyes becoming dead inside.

He was still stood up, facing the being, completely unaware of anything else here, other than the great antlered being before him. The ability to bestow complete and absolute attention upon a singular point was another attribute, left over from his past life. It was the ability to tune out everything else, to focus on nothing but his line of sight, and must've taken years of training to master this level of meditation.

Kumori suddenly started, and shook his head, cursing himself inside. Once again he'd relapsed.

A light wind wound through the treetops, imparting a hush and a sigh to the leaves, whispering secrets that had no place in Kumori's mind. The shadows however, clustered around him, imparting their own frantic voices.

Stranger, stranger!

More strangers!

Danger, danger, life and death!

Brushing the thoughts away, Kumori dismissed the shadows, as he always did, refusing to acknowledge the very magic that had brought him back from the brink of death. For him, it was a case of, ignoring and disbelieving, but seriously, how long would he be able to ignore himself?

The wind continued to wander the clearing, caressing his cloak, and kissing the brim of his wide, flat hat. Kumori removed it in a gesture of politeness, revealing his dark, thick hair, that framed his face in swarthy locks. He clipped the hat to his backpack. Eyes resting on his sword once again, he raised his voice back to the being and spoke.

"Maybe you can tell me what my purpose is for coming here."

"Would you believe me if I said that I have no purpose in life?"

"Yes," Lazarus answered almost as simply, as if answering a query about the river water, or the thick placid sunbeams. 'Yes', as is having no purpose was something common to him, something as relateable as a cold wind or the feeling of thirst; something he knew, at a time, perhaps. He slowly blinked, the sun flashing green on the scales that lightly dusted his eyelids. "Your purpose...." he trailed off, unsure of what to call the creature before him, "... human? I couldn't tell you for sure. Some come here to hunt for treasure, some to hunt for me. Some come here my accident, and some come here to poach the animals and rip up the plants," as he spoke his attention did not wander idly but drifted slightly out of focus.

He had lifted his hand, his dragon claw that existed where it appeared a human hand should be, and held it aloft, palm facing the ground. Lazarus wore an idle smile as the dry trampled-flat ground below him erupted in fresh green grass, and then a small colorful explosion of tall beautiful flowers. The stalks stretched up to meet his waiting scaly hand, and he stroked them almost affectionately, the action appearing oddly gentle for such a deadly looking hand.  

"I can only tell you what others usually come here for... and not what you are here, traveler. But I can tell you I hope you adopt none of the reasons I have listed... because those who came with bad intentions are gone now," the finality of his words was more then a little unnerving. But he noted the human (?) had removed his hat, and was that not a friendly gesture? And so he returned with, "I... do think it is impolite to refer to you as "traveler" all the time... what is your name?"

Although, after asking the question, he hardly had the attention to pay to the answer. A flurry of activity burned on the edges of his senses (rather, the senses of the plants, the jungle, but those were linked to his own). The scent of blood rippled through his mind, and worry pierced his expression; his protective side showing. He turned (the little flower bed he had created shuffling away nervously to avoid being crushed under his massive back legs) trying to catch site of the wounded creature. The sinister presence he had sensed had shifted too, felt as if it had gotten closer. And not only that, the darkness that resided in the creature before him gave yet another demanding flicker.

"I apologize," he murmured, sorry to have his attention suddenly torn half away from the person he was talking too, his hind legs and powerful tail facing Kumori. "But there are other here... I believe them to be dangerous..." Lazarus peered over his shoulder at Kumori with one slitted snake-like eye, trying to read him, trying to divine where he stood in the chaos biting at his senses. How many humans had he known to lash out at him only when it was convenient?  But then, he wasn't a human... was he?

Lyra peered into the near distance where, through the thinning and younger trees, she could make out the emerging base of massive stone steps. She placed a hand at her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, squinting a bit. The sound of the water echoed loud in her ears, intentionally drowning out the wincing pain in her ankle and magnified by her own previous attempts to determine the stream's direction.

A smile spread across her lips as shadows and small signs of movement through the leaves of a greatly overgrown brush that hid like a veil the base of the steps from view from where the nymph was approaching quietly through the wooded ruins. She thought there were two figures, one significantly larger than the other. Now many tens of yards away, what little Lyra could catch through the vegetation was definitely looking alive and sentient, sticking out against the vast gray and green of the surrounding area. Lyra poised one foot forward, looking toward a strange little thicket in a depression of the earth near the base of a tree that must have existed in its place long before the place had turned to ruin because it supported a section of stone wall, where the veil of vines thinned and provided a somewhat clear view out toward the base of the steps around other assorted buildings, though not nearly as well of the blurred figures in the near distance.

Unfortunately, whilst focusing on and allowing herself to anticipate things that were very much alive, Lyra had failed to notice the rather ecstatic approach of something...less so.

Needless to say, Lyra screamed. Now that was a telling indication of the direction of trouble if there ever was one. The abrupt feeling of enclosure, especially when accompanied by the distinct cold and smell of death, was certainly something new, as predicted. Lyra twisted her body violently in attempt to break away from the sudden grasp. She was weak but fast, seizing the benefit of the moment and practically ducking out of the bony arms with a push. She stumbled back, but caught herself against the huge raised roots supporting the greater tree's twisted trunk. Her wild eyes set upon the grotesquely animated skeleton, another small breathy cry of surprise escaping her lips at the sight, as well as the now sharp tinge in her ankle. She took a few jolted sidelong steps before turning to run, having trouble tearing her gaze away from the creature or getting her legs to mind her.

Islands were not so wonderful after all.

The Image of darkness swore. Now that the gigl had screamed there was no way of hiding there presence. He felt around for his pack then realised that dave had it. That damned skeleton. Sensing his irritation, a skeletal bird hopped onto his shoulder and squaked loudly. He left it be and hurried after the skeleton and his prey. He hurried over rocks and ruins to get to the annoyance.

He decided that the best way to shut the pair up would be to concuss the girl and pull Dave's head off. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need Dave's help in catching the half-dragon. Without the skeleton it would be much harder, for as annoying and unpredictable as Dave could be, he was an excellent fighter.

'Girl! Are you hurt?' he asked as he stood over where the crouching girl, 'Dave, give me the pack.'

Perhaps the half-dragon would come over and he could use this situation as a diversion. He rummaged in the pack for a cloth to tie around the girl's leg, which he noticed was bleeding, 'will you let me tie it or would you rather Dave get more excited?'

Kumori listened to the speech the half-man half-dragon creature made with a listless expression upon his face. True, his question had intentionally been rhetorical, and if he were back in the training grounds high up in the mountains, where the beautiful springs and the wild scenery were, then perhaps this could be a question that could be debated out for a few days. Could anybody else other than him decide what his purpose was?

It was definitely none of the things the being before him had just listed. Coming here was an accident though; the ship he was on had gone off course, so they had landed on a neighbouring island for a few days. When the tide was low, when the beautiful azure of the ocean had receded somewhat, then a sandbar became available that joined up the island where the ship had beached upon, to this island here. Kumori, being more of a person to stay around the fringes of belonging, had taken it upon himself to travel the sandbar and to walk in solitude, rather than watch the campfire dances and the smoky laughter.

His expression barely changed as the being raised a hand and showed an adequate control of nature herself. And in response to the tone in the being's voice, Kumori merely acknowledged that he hadn't become petrified, by inhaling a deep breath, a wistful sigh perhaps.

"I... do think it is impolite to refer to you as "traveller" all the time... what is your name?"

"Traveller is as good a name as any to call me," he said. "However others refer to me as Kumori--"

He never got chance to finish with 'Umbra', for at that very second in time, a scream erupted from somewhere not too far away. How did he know? Well, because the shadows had told him so, the shadows he continued to ignore and disengage with, whenever they tried to help him.

Strangers, strangers!

Danger, danger!

Death and life go hand in hand...

...not so far from where you stand!

Danger, danger!!

The tiny voices were so insistent, that he couldn't ignore them any longer. The shadows crowded around him, like squabbling unruly children, and in disgust, Kumori swept his hand out violently, as if to shake off their demanding flickers.

Kumori's attention was drawn back to the being, after what he'd just said. Eyes wide, he whispered, "So you feel it too?"

The tension was so deep, that without another word, Kumori drew out his sword. Locking eyes with the being, he nodded, and without another word he took off, leaping over rotting logs, and mossy banks, dodging fallen stones, and taking just enough care to not trip over any vines. He didn't look back, so he didn't know if the being was following or not. He could feel it growing stronger, stronger...

Round the corner he suddenly came upon the source of the despair, in the form of a nymph. Kumori, with his sword still raised, drew in a ragged breath and took in the situation. From where he was, it looked as if two beings were attacking the nymph. Without further thought, he sliced his sword through the air, striking at the first one, a lolling skeleton figure. Not even checking to see how deep his sword had cut, Kumori then swiped at the other being.

((Mdu, it's up to you how to respond to Kumori's attack- damage taken, how deep it cuts, or even if you dodge it.))

"I will call you whatever you wish to be called," Lazarus responded vaguely, a little relaxation seeming like disinterest, and a little tension seeming like readying of something wild, flickering against each other in his eyes and tone; whatever this was, was clearly not human and clearly not hostile, but something near by was. It tainted what would have been a new found sense of relaxation, and perhaps curiosity, staining his mood instead dark and uncomfortable. The scent of blood and fresh water was the very air he inhaled (just a little quickly) so strong was the scent. The flower he had called up from the earth was now woven with another pair of the same kind, into a small wreath which he placed lightly upon one of the sharp ridges of his horns. The heavy tropical breeze made it sway lazily.

The scream however, gathered his fractured attention into one burning focus. His insides twisted urgently, upon his face coming the fiercest expression conceivable. Lazarus would not ever allow such a voice to be to scream on his island. True, he had chased hunters away and chuckled at the shouts, he had hushed against the shriek of a leopard as he sliced it open, one day when bore was scarce. But the voice that screamed at that moment was such a frail and quailing sound, he knew it belonged to someone who had done nothing; the poor helpless sound. Lazarus would have time to muse over his own deep reading of such lamentable sounds as screams at a less vital moment.

He charged, not far from Kumori's left. The plants moved when they could from under his massive clawed feet, but the dead things and the slow things were pushed hard into the lush moist earth as he thundered by. Rocks and huge dead logs cracked easily under his feet like soft dead leaves. Kumori arrived moments before him, only because it took Lazarus a moment to stop each thundering foot. He haulted, assessing the situation for a moment, before his snake-ish emerald eyes settled on the poor wounded Nymph.

Ah, so that explained the scent of fresh water?

A fray was no place for such a creature, that was certain. And so, while Kumori stuck out with his sword, and the attention of the two other strangers was split, if not totally on the lashing, ripping blade, Lazarus walked carefully into the midst of the fighting. His   smooth green-scaled belly passed over the Nymph and settled above her, like a warm green storm cloud. He stood with his four dragon legs surrounding her, his body itself a shield for the poor injured thing. Then, bending only slightly at his human waist, he peered at the girl, and gave her a small friendly smile.  

'Are you alright?' his mouth didn't move but his voice spoke crystal clear, straight into her mind. This was a special ability of his people; a link to be shared with someone in need of protection. It was a little-known ability, because it was only a bond to be known between two beings, but Lazarus was never taught any better. Others of his species (if they still lived) would have blushed and muttered about his easy use of such a supposedly 'intimate' power.

Meanwhile, his attention (if not his eyes) was at least partly divided to the other three. Who where the dark one and the skeleton? They appeared to be the ones attacking the poor Nymph, but they mustn't have arrived only for that purpose, as Lazarus was almost positive the nymph had arrived shortly herself. He wanted to ask but opted for waiting, watching, seeing how they would react to Kumori's attack.

The nymph's eyes darted from the stranger to his creature, hovering threateningly while such a contrasting and very likely deceptive gesture of aid was being offered. Lyra's ankle twitched in an unnatural direction, causing her to drop to her knees in unison with a skipped beat of the heart. Her normally fluid movements and thoughts were jolted by the very appearance of such beings, instilling almost immediately within her an extremely bad sense about them. There was something about the man, so very dark, that made it difficult to settle her swimming grey gaze upon him properly.

"Nn..." Something about his presence flayed the light that filtered through the trees and plagued her with a feeling of void that she had never before experienced. Why was he here, in a place so wonderful? It was almost impossible to understand, seeming so completely ridiculous. Recoiling from the pungent feeling more than the questionable offer, she crossed her arms tight over her chest, holding at her shoulders and curving her back as the sound of approach sent ripples on the surface of the stream, thunderously attuned to the nymph. The depth of the cut on her ankle reaching up about two inches onto her lower leg was steadily becoming painfully apparent as the numbing affect of the water was conquered by distress.

Suddenly, two beings came into the clear, the heavily cloaked first launching forward in attack with impressive speed. The second, a great half-man and half beast the likes of which Lyra had never set eyes upon, moved over her and stood firm as a guardian. Lyra lifted her head, lips parting and jaw slacking softly in awe at the pillar-like, scaled legs surrounding. Placing both hands on the ground and leaning forward on her knees, she tilted her head to one side and openly peered up at the new face, friendly and certainly reassuring in addition to the formidable overall presence of the two. His eyes were slit like a snake's, fascinatingly reminiscent of the rest of his reptilian form. Lyra had seen strange people, but the pair were almost straight out of a story book as far as she was concerned. Her hands found her ankle instinctively as his simple question was presented crisp even over the violent clash so near to them, though the being did not appear to speak. She nodded, a ghost of her voice catching in her throat with a short little rasp. Passing her left hand lightly through the blood trickling from the cut, Lyra grabbed for her pack with the other.

'Suit yourself,' Darkness said. The girl was overreacting. Dave had only wanted to kill her, which barely hurt at all compared to living.

He rose to his feet to see the dragon-man standing protectively beofre him, 'ah yes. I was going to do this quietly but it appears I'm going to have some trouble. I have orders to have you taken to a nobelman on the mainland. Would you like to come with me or shall I have to take you down?'

He mock-saluted to the shadow. He had seen undead creatures before but this one was positively depressive. 'Greetings, I suppose you also came for the creature? Say, who was the man that revived you, I might know them?'

OOC: Sorry it's so short. How would you like to battle this out? Short or many posts long?

((mdu, you need to react to my two attacks on your skeleton and on your main character. Kumori has definitely hit the skeleton with his sword, and has swiped at your Image character- you need to decide whether or not that blow has landed, and how both characters will react to both blows.))

OOC: Sorry. :(

Neither Dave nor Darkness expected the attack. Dave, who was the first attacked, suffered a broken arm. He rubbed it as he scurried backwards a bit. 'Hey, what was that for?'
He pulled the arm out of its socket and placed it in his pack. He retrieved a long knife. It was a shame he couldn't just turn the shadow into a obedient skeleton. Skeletons were far better than shadows, 'I was only trying to kill her.'

Darkness was the second to be attacked so was not as surprised. He dodged the sword, only gaining a cut to the arms. It stung but it wouldn't impede him too much. Black blood flowed slowly from his veins, 'you'de better put that down before you do yourself some damage. I'm not here for you, or the girl for that matter.'
'Dave!,' he called. 'Throw me the second knife!'

((Don't be sorry, mdu, it's alright! I'm assuming that you want the things in both of your posts to occur, so I will treat them as one continuous post otherwise the time frames become real messy! XD))

"Say, who was the man that revived you, I might know them?"

Oh, the impudence! Kumori felt his blood boil, which is why, without further ado, he had attacked both the skeleton and the other being. That, and also the fact that there was a nymph who appeared to be in danger had been as much incentive as any.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"Insolence," Kumori spat, eyes becoming deep whorls of darkness. Even though the sun was shining, casting it's warm rays across the island as a fisherman casts his nets, there was still a slight drop in temperature. Kumori's quiet anger was sustained by a tiny but noticeable breeze. Unnatural, it wound it's way around Kumori, causing his clock to billow out, but only slightly, not enough for the others to notice much at all.

When his second blow had struck the other being, Kumori stepped back in case of retaliation, however none came. He didn't sheath his sword, kept his grip light on the handle in case it was needed again. The relaxed grip was to prevent his muscles from locking, which would decrease his efficiency.

"You'd better put that down before you do yourself some damage. I'm not here for you, or the girl for that matter."

"I will do no such thing." He spoke the words quietly, but every one of them was tipped with venom.

Kumori didn't know why he had reacted so violently, for he was but a shadow of his former self. In his mind, he had tried to build up an image of the man he used to be, and the man Kumori used to be would have reacted this way, for wasn't that a job of a warrior? To protect?

Using his peripheral vision, Kumori was aware of the half dragon moving at his side. The being was helping the nymph, and he felt somewhat thankful that she hadn't looked too badly hurt, although she was sporting a small flesh wound of some sort. Weighing up the situation again, he went through all the possible scenarios that could have led to this one, and in all of them, he came to the conclusion that the dark being and the skeleton were up to no good.

Something about that skeleton's grin really irked him, which was strange, for he had emotions akin to ice. Also, the dark one had said something about him being revived. How did he know? People couldn't tell, just by looking at him. Normal people couldn't. Normal people just seemed to feel an icy leaden coldness in their stomachs, if they were extremely sensitive. These two were much more sinister, that was for sure.

Half of him wanted to ask the dark being more, but, his other hand was itching to wield the blade once more. He would wait to see what the duo did next.

'So by process of elimination...' Lazarus thought to himself with a sudden chill, only to have his question answered before he even fathomed it. 'I have orders to have you taken to a nobleman on the mainland. Would you like to come with me or shall I have to take you down?' was what the sinister shadow-like creature had asked him. He wasn't shocked, per say, but a hunter had not come for him in at least a decade. He did however feel a small flicker of gladness for Kumori (who was apparently, another creature of darkness) because his enthusiastic fighting meant he could stand protectively over the poor injured nymph.

The girl seemed quite curious of him, he noted with a smallish smile, shifting his feet as she stood above her. But, as had become quite apperent, he couldn't simply 'stand' much longer. That ungodly skeleton creature seemed all to at ease with killing, and Lazarus was not about to simply let himself be captured.

'I'm going to pick you up with my tail, please don't be alarmed... and then hold onto my horns, because I'm going to start running,' his words whispered into the Nymph's mind as his long heavy tail dipped under his body, and scooped up her small form. He'd never dream of leaving such a vulnerable seeming creature behind.

"Unfortunately," he spoke to The Image of Darkness in a cool unfeeling voice "I can not leave this island, so you will have to return to your boss empty handed." Lazarus was no fool, he could sense power coming of the pair of sinister things in waves, and knew he could not fully concentrate on fighting if he were also concentrating on helping the little Nymph. He knew he had to get away.

'I hope you can handle yourself, Kumori. I have no choice but to leave, my apologies,' Lazarus' head throbbed briefly; switching the targets for mental speech was not something his power really supported, but he wouldn't just leave Kumori without a single word. 'If you doubt for a moment, run. They are strong, and I would be sorry to dig another grave here.' With those final words to Kumori, Lazarus turned, rearing on his hind legs to face the opposite direction more quickly, and began to gallop away at break-neck speed.

(( OOC- Isolde, I REALLY hope it's okay I kinda stole your character ._. if its not, please don't hesitate to tell me and I can try and fix it <33 ))

"Insolence,"'
Insolence?' Dave hung his head slightly to one side. This man looked like fun, he had power too. Being unable to judge the exten of the shadow's power he came up closer to take a look. 'Really, who did revive you? What did he look like?' He continued grinning manically, slowly edging closer to the shadow, 'you look like something Magda would do, only she often forgets to leave people's memories.'

Darkness knew that the skeleton was partially tyying to stir the man. He put out his hands in a manner to try and calm the man, they were obviously touching a nerve, 'easy, we truly mean you no harm. If you keep this up this defencive attitude that might change though.' Unlike Dave, Darkness did not like wanton killing.

He turned to the half-dragon, who was about to escape. The Image of Darkness began chanting and darkness srung around and inside the mind of the dragon-man. The chanting was only for effect but in his deep, dark voice, it was know to make women (and some men) cry. The darkness surrounding the creature was not enough to cause any harm but it would certainly make the creature panick. 'I'm sorry but I can''t let you leave. You can put the girl down and she can make her own way.'

(OOC- Wasn't it Isolde's turn?)

OOC: shoot, I'm really sorry. bakc to you Isolde, I'll skip next turn if you like.

((It's totally fine. I'm treating this as a post that flows in-between the time of those. Maybe we can resume the usual order after this, when Nightshade posts. mdu, you should probably skip this next one directly after me. After all, you don't have anything to react to until One Last Breath posts again. :P))

Quickly placing the strap of the little bag over her head and across chest and shoulder, Lyra's head lifted once more to his voice. Although she was absolutely ecstatic that she wasn't the original target despite her disorientedness at the sudden disruption by something that felt so corrupt in such a pure, quiet place, the alternative wasn't any better and the trouble was very much there to stay, by the sound of the cold exchange and the instruction she was given.

When would the skeleton stop speaking, with that horrible grin? Lyra could hardly stand to look at the sinister pair, especially the corpse, advancing slowly and expelling nothing but blatant, even mocking lies. The nymph was lifted onto the man's back, laughably light in comparison. Hands fastening on the intricate mass and holding tight. Attention divided between the surreal situation and the equally as surreal beings involved, Lyra was speechless. This in and of itself added to the extreme abnormality of recent events. It was only a few days ago that she was on the mainland, traveling with her river and contemplating the condition and definition of islands.

After a brief pause and the meeting of sights between the two, they turned and assumed a pace beyond what even Lyra could comfortably achieve in most open areas. Tightening her grip after the first moment of acceleration, Lyra bowed her head, then turned her neck to let the stray hairs from her face and looked over her shoulder, eyes settling almost immediately upon the dark one, who appeared to be muttering something under his breath. A shiver ran up her spine, visibly shaking her frame. She turned away, wishing to cover her ears but unwilling to let go. It felt as if something was filtering past her to surround her new companion. Her body tensed, brow contorting slightly with concentration - on the wind past her ears, or the defiant continuing flow of the stream. Anything but that horrible, deep sound.

((Sorry for the late post, I didn't realise everyone had replied!!))

Kumori was growing weary of the skeleton's speech. It surprised him, just how little reaction this bag of bones had initially drawn from him. OK, so the words coming out of the skeleton's mouth were annoying, but the visual itself? How many people could stand there, unflinching, whilst a skeleton walked and talked before them like a living, breathing, being? Now that was something to muse about. Kumori often did have calm reflections at the most inappropriate times.

"Really, who did revive you? What did he look like? You look like something Magda would do, only she often forgets to leave people's memories."

"Hmph," Kumori snorted, eyes narrowed to slits. His hand tightened on his weapon, but he stood his ground. Inside, he was thinking, I will not tolerate such impudence from this being, but there was no reason to attack. No, he was a drifter, more often passive than not. But every now and again, something would stir him into action. And if the skeleton kept going at this rate, edging closer with that grotesque excuse for a face, then the dormant volcano within Kumori would be bound to erupt. Heaven forbid the day that happens.

"Easy, we truly mean you no harm. If you keep this up this defensive attitude that might change though."

Kumori's eyes flicked to the other being. His tight-lipped silence was his only response, apart from the dilation of his pupils. For a split second, inky blackness filled his eyes, the blackness of the universe without any stars, the blackness of the deepest darkest depths of the ocean, and the blackness of the terror of the soul. This was blackness that could swallow up voices, bodies, souls, engulf them all to the pit of despair. Kumori did not know this though. The effect was only there for a fraction of a second, and then his eyes were the same blank brown. He had never seen his eyes when they did that, and it barely happened at all, was more of a subconscious thing. An unconscious warning to others, of whatever it was that was locked within.

In the exchange of words between the half-dragon and the being, Kumori finally realised that they were after the half-dragon. When the being started to chant, Kumori frowned in distaste. It was slightly irritating in the way that a wasp buzzing is irritating, but didn't seem to be affecting him like the way it was affecting the female nymph. He cocked his head to the side, and listened for a few seconds, eyes flicking back and forth to the other beings.

The skeleton, he swatted with his arm. That damn thing had gotten so close to him that it was invading his personal space. Kumori picked up his sword, walked over to the nymph and the half-dragon, and placed himself in between them. He turned to the half-dragon, and asked, "Are you being affected by this? If you are, then it would make more sense for you to head away from here, with the female. I can stand my ground."

Lazarus' front feet stumbled along the ground as he near fell forward. His huge dragon's hand shot forward to catch himself, the long obsidian claws leaving deep scars in the soft mossy earth. He panted, feeling something cold and heavy rush around him as if he were suddenly trapped in icy rapids. Carefully fixing his footing, Lazarus reached backwards with his human hand, wanting to make sure his sudden stop had not dislodged the poor damaged Nymph from his back. It seemed since she had been holding tightly onto his horns, she was fine. Lazarus patted her kindly on the head, smiling faintly for a moment despite the dark power swirling around him.

"I will not leave an injured creature to fend for herself," Lazarus responded in a sharp voice to The Image of Darkness, turning his head slightly to glare over his shoulder. His eyes were all but black, the shadow magic filling his vision with darkness, leaving him blind. The power surging around him was quite unnerving, but he was not the type to panic right away, especially when he was worrying over more then his own welfare. Crouching slightly, he touched his dragon's hand to the earth, feeling where the plants curved around feet, feeling where the greenery sensed life. He couldn't see that way, but it gave him in idea of what was around. His mouth hung open, his long forked tongue darting into the air every moment or two, tasting the air the way a snake might.

Kumori had moved close to him, and yet Lazarus still felt as if he was standing in the path of a huge icy river. "Are you being affected by this? If you are, then it would make more sense for you to head away from here, with the female. I can stand my ground."

"I am," he answered, his voice betraying a little of the discomfort he felt, "But I can not flee... I can not see..." Lazarus focused on the feel of the girl on his back, strengthening his resolve. He recalled a time when he himself had been so small, so frail, and wished desperately for someone, anyone to help him. 'I will never leave anyone in need, ever' he thought to himself. Then, lifting his dragon's hand from the ground, he focused on the spot he had sensed The Image of Darkness to be standing on.

'Grow', he said, but not in any language any of them would understand, unless they could read minds. From the spot he was focusing on, sprouted a huge twisted tree, the point of it sharp and jagged, it's bark rough and thorned. Red and black leaves shot from it's skin, shaking from their brilliant skin stinging spores.

The intent of course, was the skewer the caster of the spell, but blind as he was, he could not see if it had worked.

The stinging spores hovered in the air like puffs of golden cotton.

'Do not touch them,' Lazarus sent the warning to both Lyra and Kumori, hoping with a dull feverish panic that the darkness that had enclosed him would fade.

"Ah!" Lifting a few inches, Lyra had caught herself in time and roughly settled back. She twisted her waist, turning left and right as they came to a stop and Lazarus gathered himself together once more, though apparently blinded by the strange force. She wondered if there was any way to dispel it, though the dark one himself seemed to be its ultimate source, placing such a thought far out of her ability at the moment, drastically slowed and heavily lacking in the element of her birth.

Her grip weakening, the nymph watched the movements of her allies and the terrible two, eyes darting every which way to acutely catch sight of small movements and gestures, less unnerved now with her senses more instinctually enhanced by the proximity of danger. The half-dragon spoke shortly in a very unfamiliar tongue, as if it were an incantation of some sort, vaguely striking note of familiarity somewhere in her mind, as if it were comparable to some other array of sounds.

It was then that the tree burst from the ground, growing in size exponentially and creating a curling, grating noise. Not many people knew what trees sounded like, mostly due to the fact that they grew so slowly and, in consequence, so quietly that the noise would seem like a deep roar as opposed to a rush. Lyra gave a sharp intake of breath at such a familiar sight turned foreign by its intent. In the next moment, a gentle rain of the amber puffs trickled down through the air. Lyra watched their descent, hands twitching as she received the warning.

Letting her hands reluctantly fall into her lap, she raised them a short distance from her and extended each finger, then waving her hands quickly outward in a very light, curtaining motion almost instantly after the spores appeared. The few stray spores drifting toward them fell back in a curve toward the dark one and the skeleton through the air, sufficiently thick with humidity to allow the gesture. Giving another such gesture, stronger in its stroke, Lyra met resistance from the filtering cold that saturated the area around them. She replaced her hands hastily, surprised by its prevalence even in physical space, her shoulders slacking. Though its affect was obviously placed heavily upon the mind of the half-dragon, that sickening darkness almost had weight.

'Dave, stop pestering the poor thing,' the Image of Darkness snapped. 'And you, calm yourself. I don't mean to hurt anyone here. I too would not allow the girl to be harmed.'

The skeletal bird on his shoulder spread its wings and flew over to the shadow. The thing now had a very short life expectancy. Dave watched, just out of the shadow's arm length and followed him to the half-dragon.

The growing plant startled Darkness and he jumped aside and he lost focus, 'what do you think you're doing? You could have hurt someone.' He increased the darkness once more, this time not bothering with chanting. It was a darkness that would hopefully envelope everyone in the vacinity except him.

The darkness billowed out from his body, expanding and suffocating its victims' eyes. It was a darkness that light fled from, a darkness that was the opposite of light and darker than black. All anybody would see was his dim form, showing up less dark.

Dave shrank to the ground and started screaming. It was too much for the poor thing.

'Dave, I will let this up shortly. Just listen to my voice and think about skeletons,' he spoke in a deep booming voice that would quell the living but soothe the dead, possibly even the shadow would be calmed.
Dave kept screaming.

Next Darkness spoke to the half-dragin, 'Just sit still and let the shadow take the girl away. He can bind her wounds with anything he can hind in our pack. I do not want to harm anyone.' Hopefully the intensity of the darkness would not harm the others permanently. He went over to the skeleton and held tightly to his remaining hand. 'Be still.'

It seemed the half-dragon had an instilled air of nobility about him, making Kumori curious as to the origins of him. He had a mental image of sitting with the half-dragon around a little jade table, sipping green tea from quaint tea-cups and a teapot, and discussing philosophical issues. There would be artfully sculpted trees and rocks in the little spiritual garden, which would provide the backdrop. This thought was dangerously bordering on the comical. Kumori's lip twitched slightly, dispelling the vision, other than that, he remained impassive, face as set as stone and arms folded as that of a sentinel.

Behind him, the half-dragon faltered, but seemed more than capable of sustaining his balance, so there was no need for Kumori to react at all. No, Kumori's attention was wholly focused upon the two vile beings before him, so when the tree suddenly erupted from the ground, he was slightly taken aback.

The great tremors caused him to lose his own balance, and he stepped to the side to avoid a huge crack that had zigzagged across the ground. Earth and stones shook, as the tree grew larger and larger, and more unnatural by the second. Black and red warning leaves hung in sharp contrast to the thorny bark, and by the time the tree had grown to its full height, it towered over Kumori as one huge jagged spiral. The only thing he could've compared the growth of the tree to, was to the roar of a waterfall, or the destructive temper of the alpine avalanches.

"Do not touch them."

Touch what? Oh, the golden spores. Kumori shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun, head tilted up to take in the full magnitude of the tree. The beautiful golden spores were drifting directly above him, large incandescent orbs that glowed a warm yellow.

His left hand was already outstretched, a spore had already landed upon it, and Kumori's skin began to redden and blister from the point of contact. He dropped the spore without so much a word, or any indication of any pain, and raising up his right hand, which was gloved in black leather, and still gripping the sword, he scythed through the air, creating a current that drove the spores away from his body, and stepped out of the immediate path of the spores. He turned his hand to the side, in the light, and observed the blistered flesh.

Suddenly he looked up, feeling a new wave of dark energy emanate from the being. The tiny shadows clustered around Kumori, dubious as to the intent of the being. He felt the darkness wash over him, with slightly more effect than the being's previous attempt, and in defence, he automatically lifted up his right arm to shield himself, even though it was futile. Physical couldn't work against this. Unless...he struck at the core.

He glanced at the half-dragon, wondering what his plan was. For Kumori had no qualms about staying to fight.

((Lovely posts guys!! <3))

Warmth fled from Lazarus' skin. His claws clenched, scarring the ground under him. He felt suddenly as if he was sinking rapidly, his limbs becoming heavy under the weight of the sudden surging of darkness. He could not feel the light press of the weight from Lyra, so meekly his tail lifted and poked about, just to make sure she was there. Smiling as he discovered she was, he gave her a quick pat with the tip of his tail, and let it drop back behind him. Sparks of pain tumbled in needled cartwheels down every nerve, making his limbs twitch in refusal of the pain.

He worried over the Nymph, and Kumori. Could they feel the mounting pressure of the shadows, too? He especially worried over the girl, his tail again drifting back and coiling in a few protective loops around her shoulders. Part of him wanted to stay and fight, but part of him wanted to run. he wasn't frightened, but he wanted to tend to the Nymph; get somewhere safe with her and perhaps fix up her leg. He grappled with the two emotions for a brief moment, his thoughts slowed by the shadows creeping over him. If he were a lesser beast, he would have cried out in pain, but truthfully he had endured much worse tortures.

'Kumori' his thought-speak was so handy, even if the other party could not speak the same way back 'I can not fight when there is someone in need of care. I will return to fight them, after I take the lady somewhere safe.'

Again, Lazarus held up his dragon's hand, the long obsidian claws glinting under the spots of sun that tumbled through the sparse canopy.

'I don't mean to hurt anyone here. I too would not allow the girl to be harmed.' the dark being had said. Lazarus let a cold but gentlemanly smile cross his lips.

"You'll have to forgive me for not believing you," it was a struggle to speak, but he managed just barely. His dragon's hand flexed and he spoke another word in his language, this time 'Bind'.

Thorny vines shot out from every direction, attempting to wrap the spell caster to the point of suffocation.

Lazarus did not even stay to see if the attack hit its mark; he was running, the shadow magic making it feel like he was running through quick sand, his limbs heavy and hard to move. He managed it all the same though, hoping to get out of The Image of Darkness' range of attack, before something else could stop him from getting away with Lyra.

The girl's ghostly figure, consumed by the second wave along with the others, was barely visible in that first moment of pitch. This dark purity was so unlike the wholeness of light and the airiness of night. It was a gluttonous living cavity, swallowing everything but the silhouette of the caster in those unbearably long first moments.

Lyra felt the curl of the dragon's tail around her, but could hardly place it on a level of reason. She felt incredibly, instantly numbed by the shock alone and felt her limbs tingling, each going the way of her consciousness. It was something similar to what she'd always been told about drowning. The experience wasn't possible for the nymph, but the similarity in her imagination was terrifying. She thought to begin to think about breathing, but that forcible slumber insisted upon the halt of all function. Her lower body was going limp though supported by the dragon's grasp and her own weight, seemingly doubled to the rest of her by that dead, devouring feeling.

Abruptly, a flood of effects from the surroundings returned triumphantly. It was as if they'd passed from the center of a storm cloud that, despite its initial invasion and resistance, seemed to pursue them at their heels with a vaguer and vaguer outline as they fled. She gasped as movement returned to her by transition, although her head was light - and not in the usual way. Looking down through the haze clouding her eyes, normally so bright and clear, the nymph recognized the glare of red once more. The wave of feeling in her lower leg was positively searing, deprived for long enough from any resources to begin mending itself.

"What-..." She drifted between haze and shade, her face starkly white. The sure feel of movement and its low hum provided a staple distinct from the pitch of before as her eyes struggled to re-adjust.

Dave continued screaming as everything happened around him. He curled up into a tight ball and tried to cover his body with a single arm. All those memories of when he had tried to convert his friend flowed though him, paralysing him. It had been the only time when he had wished for true death. The darkness lifted around him but he did not look up in case it came again.

---

'Dave, help me!' called the Image of Darkness.

He was wrapped tightly in an annoying vine. He could not even squirm to get free but with Dave out of action there was nothing he could do.

'Dave, you need to breathe, the darkness has left. There is only me and the light. I am sorry to have put you though that but you need to rise,' soothed Darkness in his deep voice, 'the dragon has gone and I need you to get me out. The shadow is still here and I doubt he will look kindly on you.'

Dave remained curled up. Darkness looked down at the skeleton with sorrow. It was strange how the other creatures has been less effected. He had thought for sure that the half-dragon would have fallen to the ground too.

He looked to the shadow, 'leave Dave alone, he cannot fight and it would be cowardly to attack him.' It would be cowardly to attack a bound man too but he doubted that would bother the shadow as much. It was a shame the others had got themselves involved, nobody would have got hurt.

'I will not revive you, never do that again,' Darkness heard Dave whisper. Darkness looked back at the skeleton, who was still curled up but had lifted his head.

'Finally you agree,' laughed Darkness. Despite how bad Dave seemed, he would go back to normal. 'Do you feel up to getting me out of these vines?'
Dave shook his head and looked at the shadow.

Kumori. Kumori started, at just how close the whisper seemed to appear, to him. It was ghostly intangible, like a sliver of mist, but different in that it held the tones of warmth and sunlight, and of lush greenery. It was the light tropical wind, bringing the scents of the sea and of exotic flowers. This voice was familiar, and Kumori intuitively knew that it belonged to the half-dragon, and that the beast was talking to him using mind power.

I can not fight when there is someone in need of care. I will return to fight them, after I take the lady somewhere safe.

Kumori nodded once, without turning around to betray the fact that the half-dragon had communicated with him at all. Aside from the gentle wind billowing his cloak, Kumori could've been made of stone, for all he cared. His sword was still gripped lightly in his hand, resting in the flesh of his palm, and a few metres behind him, the half-dragon had uttered his last spell before fleeing.

Unfortunately it missed both the Image of Darkness and the skeleton which was still sprawled upon the ground rolling from side to side and howling ever so hideously. That damn thing was more painful than the Image's attack had ever been. So, it is just you and me now, Kumori thought, eyes narrowing, and muscles tensing. He watched impassively whilst the dark being went forth to comfort the skeleton; only the flickering of his eyes betrayed any movement.

It had been a while since he had become this active. However, saying this, Kumori was currently preparing his mental space, envisioning calm mountain tops and soothing springs. Peace flowed into his mind, the peace of the warrior, the calm before the storm. All around him, the shadows clustered, whispering and nudging one another, wondering what was going to happen next. He still didn't feel truly alive, but any emotion, anything, was better than nothing.

"Leave Dave alone, he cannot fight and it would be cowardly to attack him."

"I agree," Kumori said simply, locking eyes with the Image of Darkness.

He didn't say anymore. They hadn't attempted to get past him yet. So there was no need for attack. It made sense, in a cold, logical way.

((Short post, sorrry!!!))

This time, they seemed to have managed a narrow escape. Lazarus felt a slight pang of guilt for leaving the warrior alone to fight, but knew it could not be helped. He would return, as soon as possible, but first there were more urgent things to attend too. Greenery whipped past as Lazarus galloped, his strides becoming faster and more powerful the further away they got. He felt exceedingly lucky for the scales that covered more then half of his body, it had not been the first time they had repelled magic that would have other wise seriously hurt them. 'I wonder why no one thinks to attack with cold...' he mused momentarily, before shaking his head and clearing his thoughts.

Now was a time to concentrate. He glanced backwards at the little Nymph, offering a quick white smile. "I do apologize for the sudden uprooting of your person, miss. I wished to remove you from danger, is all. May I ask your name?" he wasnt slowing yet, hoping to put miles and miles behind them before finally coming to rest. There was a little grove he knew of a good distance away, with the perfect plants for numbing any painful wounds, and others for killing any dangerous infection.

He'd have to get there, and then find a place for Lyra to hide. He couldn't abide destructive creatures on his island, and knew that he had to face them again, even if they were after him. His magic repelling scales often kept him safe from any kind of attack any hunter would think to throw at him, and so this fact made him perhaps the slightest bit over confidant. Lazarus glanced behind him, no long able to see Kumori, Darkness, or the skeleton. He was quite careful turning his head, so as not to dislodge Lyra's hands from his sharp intricate horns.

((Sorry for the delay. Lots of weekend stuffs to take care of.))

The flurry of colors and shapes fleeting past them began to take mroe definite forms. The nymph blinked several times, the daze fading. Small clinking noises reassured her that the little leather pack was in its place, resting at her hip. It was always the first thing she checked when waking and when laying down to sleep. She supposed now that it had become a habit reaching farther into her subconscious due to the importance of such light cargo.

She sat up, trying to straighten her back a bit to better support herself and keep her head still. The speed of the creature was astonishing. She'd never run with pressing reason, but she had run fast before, supported by her oddly masked bone structure; never this fast. The feeling was familiar, though; calming in a distinct way rather than unsettling or jolting.

When she first opened her mouth, her voice was lost to the wind. When she raised her voice to be heard it was peculiarly reminiscent of it, like an echo. She wondered why people apologized for things that met such beneficial ends so often.

"My name is Lyra. What's your name?"

The Image of Darkness was still stuck in the vines and the wind seemed to be blowing the ugly red flowers closer. Red meant danger and he doubted the half-dragon had made it grow because it was pretty: it was there for a reason.

'Dave. I need you to look at me.'
The skeleton remained still.
'Dave, you are a skeleton! How many creatures have you resurected in your lifetime? Do you truly want to have it all end because you cowered from a friend's magic?'
The skeleton grumbled and lifted his head. Sometimes stirring was the only way to get him going.
'That shadow you were so fascinated by, is he braver than you? He stands looking over you now. How does it feel?'
The skeleton got to his feet, 'I AM NOT A COWARD! THE DARKNESS DOESN'T PHASE YOU, IT'S NEVER TRIED TO RIP YOUR MIND APART!'
Darkness was surprised at Dave's furiosity, but at least it had got him up. 'Good, you're still sane. Now get me out of this damned vine so we can collect our dragonman and get out of here.'

Darkness looked at the shadow, he didn't seem to be paying much attention but that may be just be a ruse. He turned back to Dave, cooing him over and trying to get him to cut away the vine.

The exchange between the dark man and the skeleton was absolutely fascinating. Kumori found himself studying it, analysing it coldly, with a detached mindset. How could such a bond have formed between two beings such as these in the first place? The relationship they had was almost tender. Kumori could not remember the last time he had had these feelings displayed to him, or the last time he had given these feelings to someone. Such was the path he chose, a path of loneliness, a path of frustration, a bitter, howling cold path that slowly ate away at his soul.

No wonder he was so empty inside.

He had built up these walls for so many years, for so long, that it was near impossible to get through them now. There were no cracks, no weak points. Kumori had effectively barricaded himself in his own fortress of ice, so that the longer time passed, the more detached, the more frozen he became.

A sardonic smile tugged the edge of Kumori's mouth, as he heard the dark being accuse the skeleton of being a coward.

He could so easily go in there now and finish them off, whilst the man was incapacitated by the vines. Such odd behaviour for plants, Kumori thought. The vines had literally sprouted from the ground in the blink of an eye with growth so accelerated that one could not see the dirt, for the vine leaves. All of the sharp points had missed the dark man; but the tendrils had found their prey and clung to him with a ferocity that was alien to the tame nature Kumori had always been accustomed to.

"I cannot let you pass, so if you wish to fight, then free that man," Kumori intoned in a booming voice to the skeleton. "If you wish to avoid antagonism then you will leave him be, seeing as you are unlikely to leave this island without your goal."

He was offering the skeleton a choice. All he felt for the animated bones was disgust, but Kumori was a fair man, normally much more passive. Normally, he would distance himself from any action. But here, in this isolated island, there would be no one else to help the one who the two dark beings before him was after.

Shifting slightly, the light glinted off the blade of his sword, reminding the others of Kumori's weapon, which was still clasped in his right hand. His left hand was sore, still stinging from the contact made with the spore. Red welts had blistered in a spidery pattern from the point of contact, making his flesh appear puffy and swollen. If he noticed any pain, no expression on his face betrayed it.

It had been so long since he had last fought properly. In fact, the last time he had fought had been the day he almost died, the day they found him and tried to rebuild him. He had been all too happy to die on the battlefield, to ride the wings of the warrior and fly with the eagle towards the setting sun, towards a sun that was stained with the blood of the thousands of other noble warriors who he had fought with or against. That had been the last time he was truly happy. To lie there, bleeding to death, knowing that he would enter Valhalla with the might of one who was great and who had died in valiant battle.

And then he had returned to this abomination; this atrocity, this abhorrent excuse for a body. Chained to this world, tethered to this life, Kumori's feelings slowly ebbed away until he was nothing but a wanderer, a shadow. But he was sure he could still remember how to fight. He was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but maybe this could be the time when he...

No.

He wouldn't let them win. It had to be a fair fight. He could not want death. It had to be given in a fair duel, a duel with him giving his all, giving his best. Otherwise it would not be an honourable death.

Kumori's eyes darkened for a split second, and then all was clear, as he watched to see what would happen next.

"Lyra," he repeated, testing the word, making sure he could pronounce it properly with his odd snake-ish tongue. "It's nice to meet you, Lyra. My name is Lazarus, and I am the protector of these ruins." He allowed his run to slow only slightly, the wind's roar around them dying down, the bright colorful blurs reduced to recognizable smears of plants. His claws clapped hard against the ground as he trotted, twisting around slightly to first give Lyra a gentlemanly smile, and then to cast a quick glance at her ankle.

The vines and plants parted like curtains around them as they passed through, brilliantly colored birds taking wing and flinging themselves into the sky as their perches were disturbed. Before them was another vast clearing, filled to the brim with crumbling stone buildings, and creeping vines. Now slowing to a speedy walk, Lazarus carefully climbed over the tumbled stones, occasionally rearing into his hind legs to vault a particularly difficult obstacle.  

"It's strange to have so many visitors here all at once," he mused out loud, "I hardly get one visitor every couple of years..." he shook his head, pale honey colored strands dusting about the small of his (human) back. "We're heading to that building on the very edge of the clearing. Just behind it, as a patch of plants I can use to help you with your wound." Lazarus paused, and then asked "Why did you come here, Lyra? What were you seeking?"

Lyra watched the sunlight glint across his pale strands of hair, almost matching it. Light was one of her favorite features of the world, she thought. It changed with every environment, its bending and conforming to its surroundings to complement them. It gave many gifts, among them being shadows, shines, and reflections: each having its own value and manner of truth.

"An island," she interjected with a kind of pride as she looked back up, her eyes reflecting the flood of light from between the thinning trees and appearing for a moment a strangely pure grey with barely the sillhouette of a center. The nymph let one hand fall safely down to rub at the base of her ankle to distract herself from the pain. The wound had stopped bleeding, very thinly veiled and stubbornly resisting her body's defenses due to some strange form of exposure, while the blood returned to her face and restored what little color she normally possessed. The dried blood was bright and thin, as if formerly diluted.

"I'd never been to an island before. I thought I'd travel to see one for a birthday present, so I sat in a boat and stayed very quiet." Birthday presents were perhaps the fourth or fifth greatest invention by man, definitely. She was certain that no one would disagree, with the exception of the few who might place it third.

"You're wonderful," she said with a little-muffled tone of awe, tilting her head to one side and letting her gaze travel along the scaly sides of her new companion. She hadn't finished marveling at the sheer novelty of such a being. She tossed her often as obstructive, silvery curls over her shoulder, opting to get a better look at the emerald scales patterning Lazarus' dragon-half. They positively exuded some sort of extraordinary qualities. Her demeanor had improved significantly since they'd created a good distance between themselves and that oppressive darkness which had consumed the grove far behind like a plague. She continued brightly, "What are you, Lazarus?"

Darkness flinched as the wind blew one of the plant's flowers to his hace. It stung and he guessed the skin was blisterring away. It was stuck to him and he shook his head to try and remove it. Nothing happened so he gritted his teeth, 'hurry up Dave, this thing...' he groaned as he felt it eating deep into the flesh of his cheek. Darkness would be flowing out of the hole. Hopefully Dave could handle it.
Darkness attempted to blind the shadow. he only put a small amount of hiself to it because he didn't want to open hiw smarting wound or alert Dave. Perhaps it would only dull the shadow's sight. Anything would be better then nothing, Dave only had one arm to fight with and he probably wasn't completely over Darkness's attack.


Dave looked at the hole and shuddered. He averted his eyes and tried not to look at any dark spots in the surrounding. He slowly stepped closer to Darkness without looking at him again, 'can you hold on Darkness? This is going to take time.' Darkness grunted and kept his teeth firmly shut.
Dave glared at the shadow though hollow eyes, 'Jerk! You stupid jerk! I will not leave my friend. Do you know what friends are or did your creator forget to add them to you?'
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Darkness looking disgruntled at the insult. He sneered and dropped his pack and removed his cloak. It would be easier to fight without them.
'I am no coward, I would rather suck whatever excuse for a soul and bones you have left and make a living skeleton out of you than have Darkness stuck here with you. Then at least you might appreciate the life you have!'
Hopefully the Image of Darkness would not try to use his darkness. Dave felt a little twitchy as it was.

OOC: yes they are meant to be close, it is a side effect of Darkness not being quite male. I thought it might look like it was written by a girly-girl and this was a mistake.

He heard the voice of the skeleton, but wasn't really listening to the words. It wasn't meant to, but it had the potential of infuriating the bag of bones even more. Frankly, even though the relationship raised his curiosity, Kumori couldn't give a toss about the skeleton, or about the other man, as people with feelings and thoughts and actions. None of this interested him.

He didn't know why he had come here. Perhaps it had been to find peace. It was a funny thing though, that what he was seeking always eluded him.

If he had been more hot-headed, more in tune with action and energy, rather than the listless shell, then perhaps he would've struck the skeleton there and then, for repeatedly referring to a blatant lie. He did not have a 'maker' in the sense the skeleton implied. No, he, like the others from his line, were descended from a lineage that believed in nature, and the levels of life. None of this dark magic rubbish.

Kumori narrowed his eyes slightly, and his pupils automatically dilated to reveal the chasm within. Once again, this was something he wasn't aware of for it was something he had never seen in his eyes before. After all, who holds a mirror up and checks their hair as they are about to fight?

The sword twitched slightly in his grip, betraying the discomfort.

Why not walk out now?

Why not leave all these people to suffer their own fate?

Perhaps he had forgotten what honour really felt like.

"I am no coward, I would rather suck whatever excuse for a soul and bones you have left and make a living skeleton out of you than have Darkness stuck here with you. Then at least you might appreciate the life you have!"

"Appreciate life? Do elaborate, please," he said quietly, locking eyes with the sockets of the skeleton.

Talk, talk, talk.

This would get interesting. Out of his peripheral vision, Kumori noticed that the dark being had freed himself. He'd left the choose up to them. They could still walk away and leave, and no one would be hurt. But it didn't look as if they were going to leave, far from it!

Idly, Kumori wondered what the others were doing.

"You came here looking for... an island?" Out of all the reasons Lazarus had heard for other's visits, this the the strangest, most obvious, most amusing. It drew a rich bright chuckle from his throat, his quick snake tongue darting out for a moment despite himself. "You certainly picked and interesting island, and an interesting time to arrive."

He had been walking alongside a crumbling stone walled veined with thorny emerald ivy, when suddenly the wall ended in an abrupt corner. Basking in the shade of the crumpled building was a bed of tiny white flowers, and above them, a cloud of bright purple spores. The tiny puffs danced in the air, the flowers shifting and leaning sideways, to avoid being crushed under Lazarus' huge clawed feet. Every few moments he would glance back at the Nymph, concerned, wanting to make sure she was in no pain. The sight of her eyes was startling, but beautiful. He could not help but indulge an extra moment or two in starring.

"Birthday present? I'm afraid I don't know what that is," he said, a faint sheepishness creeping into his smile. The great creature crouched, easing himself onto the bed of flowers. He proceeded to pluck a few of the white petals from the flowers, and grind them on the flat scaled palm of his dragon's hand. When the petals were reduced to mere powder he twisted about an a somewhat awkward angle, reaching for the little Nymph's wounded foot. Carefully he powdered the wound with the mulched up petals, which would hopefully numb the pain, and assist the wound in healing.

"I? Wonderful?" Lazarus smiled, slightly embarrassed, but quite greatful for the compliment. The smile lingered as he watched her marvel at his glittering scales. On a whim, he reached back with his dragon's hand and felt about one of his front flanks. Finding a smooth scale there about the size of a large coin, and shaped like a tear drop, he carefully pushed a nail under the glassy thing and pried it loose. He winced slightly while doing this, his face contorted with a slight expression of pain. Where the scale had been there was something akin to snake skin; a finer softer weave of inseparable scales in a brighter green. The scale he had pulled off glistened like a glass tear, veined with dark emerald. Holding it now in his human hand, he passed the glassy thing to the Nymph.

"I am the last living Extraho Liberi. Is this a suitable... birthday gift?"

"I'll say," she conceded matter-of-factly. It was strange how time caught up with you when you left the river, throwing you into other's whens and wheres as if making up for its losses. Deep down in their watery home, the naiads paid very little attention to 'when', trading it for 'what'. Although the sense of completion provided a . being home involved little more than waiting. Waiting for the what was the entire point. Lyra was a bit exceptional in that she sought out the 'when' much more frequently than most of the other nymphs.

Her eyes widened at the very notion. At the same time, in some small part it thrilled her to be able to share the glorious knowledge of birthday presents; to finally share something new when she was the one always learning and listening. She placed her hands palms-flat in her lap, lifting her shoulders and leaning forward a bit as he crouched, following his actions curiously. She winced as the wound delivered a defiant pang in response to movement, but the girl was quick to speak up without hardly missing a beat of thought, lest she forget what she had in mind.

"Well, a birthday present is a gift that you receive to mark the day with each passing year when you first were. I came from the river almost a year ago."

 "'Last' sounds awfully lonely for an entire island of your own." The nymph straightened her back a bit, trying to peer over his shoulder as he reached down to catch a glimpse at the reason for his expression. She silently mouthed the lilting 'x' sound of the name. It was not present in the language of her species which had so very few quick consonants, and with no match and the factor of rarity it was a bit difficult to put to speech.

Lyra's features lit up instantly at the sight of the beautiful near-transparent scale, lips parting and breath intaking in a wide and sudden grin as she gingerly lifted it from his hand, bringing it close with both cupped hands. She traced the deep green veins across the smooth surface with one finger, drinking in each flecked and colored detail before raising her gaze once more.

"Oh, it's much better! I haven't been given many things, but those were silly things like clothes and socks." Socks, pft. Clothes were another thing, but whose ridiculous idea were socks? "This is a fantastic present," she nodded to herself. Lyra had to suddenly stop her legs from swinging to accompany her revitalized playful air, her shoulders tensing at the strike of a nerve.

Dave opened his mouth and explain how life was re-formed and how being undead didn't mean you were less of a being. How it was a lie that the undead didn't have souls and how religions couldn't accept them because they were different. Darkness however grabbed Dave's scapula and dragged him away.

'Hey! What was that for!'
'We came here for a reason. He's stalling you, idiot,' explained Darkness and he went to pick up their pack. Dave knocked Darkness back and went back over to the shadow.

'Now you listen here! First you call me insolent then you treat me like some kind of abomination! Other than being a skeleton, how am I any different than any other being on this earth? I have a soul, I have feelings, I can love and I feel pain?'

'DAVE!' Darkness yelled, he was truly worried about the skeleton and it was showing on his face. He needed to get Dave away from the shadow.

'You stay out of this,' Dave hissed at Darkness. Darkness had no choice but to stay put.

"We came here for a reason. He's stalling you, idiot."

A minute exhalation of breath escaped Kumori's parted lips in a barely perceptible snort. Of course that was what he was doing. He wanted nothing more than to be cloaked in the solitude that had always come so naturally to him these days. He wanted nothing more than to wander this island and be alone with his thoughts, to become one with the glorious nature he had once worshipped.

"Now you listen here! First you call me insolent then you treat me like some kind of abomination! Other than being a skeleton, how am I any different than any other being on this earth? I have a soul, I have feelings, I can love and I feel pain?"

Kumori's eyebrows creased in a slight frown. His attention had been upon the hopping action of a tiny green frog, as it leaped and paused, springing and landing, traversing the path. Such tiny feet, splayed in such detail. Was it an arrow frog? Nevertheless, the skeleton seemed to be addressing him, and so Kumori's eyes flicked back to the sight he detested.

It was true. Kumori was prejudiced, and felt nothing but disgust for this being, which should have stayed dead. It was an abomination of nature; it interfered with all of her natural processes, and went against every fibre of his belief. Then again, how strong were his beliefs? It had been a long time since he'd truly had any beliefs, any political views, any personal opinions. For these were what defined you as a person. Could he really speak, a being who had clung to the fringes of belonging?

"And yet you will not leave," he said calmly, in a low voice.

Compared to the movements of the dark being and the skeleton, Kumori hadn't really moved at all over the last passage of time, which would've been an impressive feat had he still been with his training grounds. He supposed that he could stand here until the sun went down. Then again, his arm was getting tired from holding the sword, so Kumori stretched the muscles, flexing and relaxing, which brought the sword up to his shoulder height. The edge of the blade glinted dangerously in the sun, reminding all of it's presence, and then Kumori let his arm fall back down again, so the sword returned to it's original position of being by his side.

They were stalling; that he was sure of. They seemed unwilling to fight. Otherwise the man would've freed himself sooner...perhaps?

"Ah, I see..." Lazarus was excellent at controlling his tone, his manner to keep his real emotions hidden, but he felt a definite pang of sadness as he soaked in the explanation of 'Birthday Presents.' It was no wonder he had not heard of them before, or remembered them, because he had been alone since his fifth birthday. The creature closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to clean away the somber feeling. Fine bright green scales glistened on his eyelids. "Well then," a kind smile crossed his lips as is eyes drifted open again, the snake-like slits swollen under the shadow of his bangs, "I hope you like your birthday present... that is a very special scale, it repels any and all types of magic," he explained, a tiny note of pride in his voice.

"'Last' sounds awfully lonely for an entire island of your own." Again the great beast found himself shutting his eyes, soaking in the comfort of sun-stained blackness on the backs of his eyelids, just to remove the sadness. His own troubles were his own burden as far as he was concerned, and never to be allowed to bother anyone else. Still, Lazarus had a certain weakness for those who seemed in need of a protector, and he had found the curious little angel injured, and what was that horrible saying about curiosity and felines...?

"It can be, from time to time. But I have a job to do here; I must protect these ruins. They are all that remain of my tribe," a small grin touched his lips for a moment, "Other than me, of course." Lazarus' huge powerful tail hovered aloft behind Lyra, before gently wrapping her in a few loose coils. It lifted her from Lazarus' back and placed the girl at his side, among the flowers.

"I'm delighted you like the present, Lyra. Unfortunately, I need to return to confront the dark creatures that intend to hunt me; I must remove them from my home. Before I go though, is there anything else the lady needs...? And how is your ankle...?" He smiled assuringly at her, slowly lifting himself on his powerful looking legs. "I shan't be gone to long, I hope."

The nymph watched him close his eyes, his expression tweaking here and there with a little change of tensity here and the smallest shift of movement there. She often wondered about sadness more than any other emotion, most likely because it was the one emotion that found her with the least frequency. Others, however, experienced it so often in relation to the unknown past that it sparked interest in her tenfold. She did not fully understand the function of sadness, but no other emotion had such visible effects on people - even when suppressed or in small part displayed. The change was all over them.

Lyra wondered exactly what happened to the rest of the tribe. The ruins were undoubtedly massive and glorious in their former days, made evident by the ruins alone - so there must have been a great and thriving number of the Extraho Liberi to build and inhabit the vast island community.

Well, whatever had happened, Lyra was certainly glad that Lazarus had lived. Otherwise she would be in a very tight spot with no sign of home to utilize for protection near; just two very unpleasant strangers and the dark.

Lyra grinned when she was lifted and placed in the patch of flowers, hugging the present to herself, briefly contemplating what it would be like to have a tail and all the placed one could walk and climb with the advantage of that balance. She shook her head to the first question, then blinked and looked down to examine the wound herself for the second. She hadn't given it much thought in the last few minutes with the exception of its own brief, panging reminders. The little reminders, however, had stopped altogether shortly and the wound, a lot and jagged cut, had closed up almost entirely, though the skin around it was still extremely white. She reluctanly ran a finger along it, feeling where the flesh was still thin. The powder had helped immensely to jumpstart the healing process.

"It's fine," she replied, adding as a sincere afterthought, "Thank you." Lyra glanced around the clearing before returning the smile upward and nodding.

"Oh, you won't," she said with certainty. "All those two have are their appearances and words."

Darknes sighed, Dave really was useless at the moment. He was too emotional to fight anyone. 'Dave, I shall be back. You keep an eye on that shadow.'

He doubted Dave would have heard him; the skeleton was too absorbed in the shadow. Darkness turned and left. He began looking for a stick, anything that he could use as a weopon. He found a good thick one then thought again. If that half-dragon had power over plants, perhaps a stick was no the best idea. Fists would have to do. Hopefully with Dave out of the way he could let himself go a bit more.

While he was walking he admired the scenery. The ruins were beautiful in a wild and natural sort of way. They were very different from any other settlement he had been to. It was a shame he had to capture it's last resident. He had been paid already and did not want to fail in his goal.
__________________

Dave looked around for his knife. It was near where he had curled into a ball. He kept his eye sockets on the shadow and went over to pick it up. What would a shadow turn into when it died? All Dave needed was a skeleton and sometimes skin to turn a creature. He went back over to the shadow and held it out in front of him. He would show the shadow how he felt.

OOC: Darkness was bound tight and couldn't have got out on his own is what I wass thinking. Neither want to fight the others.

"Dave, I shall be back. You keep an eye on that shadow."

Kumori's eyes slid ever so slowly from the skeleton to the dark being, who had somehow managed to extricate himself from the tangle of vines and thorns. A second ago, he could've sworn the man had been as trapped as ever. So, he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Assessing the situation, Kumori realised that the team were going to split up. Half of his attention was upon the skeleton, who was groping around for a dagger, whilst the dark man was walking in the opposite direction. No doubt the man would backtrack- he would probably be looking for another way past Kumori, and it wouldn't be difficult at all, for Kumori was only guarding one of many ways to get to wherever the half-dragon had gone.

It couldn't do. Kumori had to stop the man. It was pretty obvious that the skeleton would pose no threat, so he instantly dismissed it from his mind. Kumori moved swiftly forwards, towards the tangle of thorns, which was currently posing as an obstruction between himself and the man.

Grunting, Kumori raised his sword and slashed through the stems, and a second later, leaves and wood began to rain from all around him. He was vaguely aware that the skeleton was holding a knife, and was moving in his direction with a murderous look in it's...eye sockets, but...another second later and he had elbowed his way through the thicket. Scratches clung to his bare skin, and with a detached air he noted that his cloak would need mending from the jagged clutches of the thorns.

He sprinted after the man, until he was ahead of him, and then stopped, blocking the way. Beads of sweat clung to Kumori's forehead as he raised up his sword to bar the way.

"I am sorry, but you can go no further."

Lazarus felt the flutter of delight as he watched Lyra's delighted expression as he lifted her with his tail. She was quite the wonderful creature, he thought, taking a moment to tap her head with the very tip of his agile tail, which really only served to mess her silvery hair very slightly. He was relieved that the little nymph seemed well, and wished that he did not have other pressing matters to attend to. It pained him to leave such a creature when she still might need some sort of help...

But then, he would try to make quick work of the dangerous intruders, and return to her side.

"I do hope you're right," Lazarus said with a small assuring smile, "When I done with them, I shall return. Please promise me you'll be careful, I'll worry about you the whole time I am away," Lazarus said in a gentlemanly voice, bending his front two legs in a light bow, before turning and thundering off through the trees.

Without a passenger on his back, he could move at much greater speeds. Still, he was not a foolish creature, and quieted his footfalls long before drawing near to the three other strangers on his island. Lazarus came to a steady halt behind the cover of a few bushy plants, his underbelly pressed to the soft earthy ground as he attempted to make himself a little more unnoticeable. He could not see that damned unnerving skeleton, but it seemed that Kumori was blocking the dark creature's path.

Lazarus felt a small swell of fondness for Kumori, as it really appeared he was making an effort to help Lazarus by fending off the dark creature. He mentally noted that he should thank Kumori when all this unpleasant business was over.

Raising his dragon's claw, Lazarus intended to snare Darkness on a much more fetal trap. Aura's guardian never killed (unless to eat), but it did not mean he would hesitate unleashing a harsh attack to those who meant him harm.

A carnivorous plant this time, he thought, and a large one at that.  Extending his hand slightly, Lazarus shut his eyes to concentrate. The ground tore open and from the crack spilled black thorned vines like blood. Lazarus' eyes shot open in alarm, his pupils as thin as threads. His aim was horribly off! Besides that, those cracks were cutting through the earth dangerously; it seemed he had accidently split some weak ground.

Lazarus peered down at his dragon's claw for a moment or two before he noticed; there was a fine coating of white powder on his scales. The numbing flowers... Lazarus remembered mulching them up on his claw.

'Well aren't I the world's greatest idiot,' he thought to himself.

A huge yellow blossom edged in black teeth reared it's head, snapping it's jaws through empty air. The thing could not move on it's own of course, and was mildly confused as to why it was brought up with nothing to feast on. It was not ten feet away from Kumori and Darkness, visible but of no threat.  It's vines struggled to grasp the thin ground; Lazarus knew better then to summon such a heavy thing on ground that could not support it, but then again his aim had been horribly off.

Suddenly there was a great cracking, the gouges in the ground suddenly cutting forward like black ravenous snakes. The sound of empty space and sprawling echoes could be heard from below, like the ground was opening up into a vast underground cave system.

Still, the darkness that loomed there was not telling; it could be a long treacherous fall down. Lazarus cursed internally; he knew of the pirate caves, if his hand had not been numb he never would have made such a horrible mistake!

But there was no time to think on that, for the ground was ripping apart with apperent deadly intent, the cracks heading straight for Kumori and Darkness!

Without thinking Lazarus lept forward, taking two great vaulting steps before leaping. His scaly form passed Kumori like an emerald comet, but as he did his tail wrapped around the warrior's waist, tugging the man with him as he went. Lazarus' claws dug deep into the bark of an ancient tree, which was barely managing to hold onto the splitting around. Vaulting off to that he launched himself back, just beyond the reach of the finally settling cracks in the earth, and placed Kumori on the solid ground at his side.

'My apologies,' his voice rang somberly in Kumori's mind, 'I do hope you're not injured...'

Lazarus' eyes turned to the torn up landscape; all in all the damage was not that bad, but he would have liked to avoid it. He looked between his poor hungry plant, the cracks, the trees clinging to the splintered earth, trying to see where Darkness was...

You peeps may skip over me once or twice. I may be gone for a while as I'm having family trouble recently and need to be around. Sorry for the inconvenience!

((Oh, hope everything goes OK *huggles* ...not sure what everyone else wants to do - wait for you, or carry on, but if we do carry on, let us know when you come back yeah?))

OOC: Well, it is kinda an alright time to skip Lyra maybe once or twice. Gosh i REALLY hope that doesn't come off mean, I just mean it's an alright place in the plot it all ^_^;;; *HUG* I hope the issues get resolved soon!! <33

((Sounds like we're all in exam season then...so I guess it's mdu's turn now! I think I'm gonna have Kumori fall into the underground caves...*muses*))

OOC: Hang on?! Didn't I post here? Sorry guys. I hope I didn't hold you up too long.

Dave grew furious, how dare that shadow turn away from him. He did not have complete control of himself, he ran SCREAAAMING towards the shadow. Then the rift opened. Dave was unable to stop from his full lunge  and he toppled over the side. He fell deep down into the chasm. He dropped the knife and grabbed onto some roots as they grew and pushed the earth arounf them. His pectoral girdle (chest bones) rose and fell. He had no other arm to pull himself up with so he just clung onto the root. When he looked down he saw a root near his left leg and placed his foot on there. At least he had some support.

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Darkness's foot was ensnared by a root that pulled him to the ground. He clenched his teeth when the ground came in contact with the large, black hole in the side of his cheek.He pushed himself back onto his feet and struggled out of the root. Something felt wrong. The air around him was darker than it should be. He cupped his hand over the cheeek wound: it had opened up and was sucking away the light. Hopefully Dave would be able to handle it.

Where was Dave, he had seen Dave run towards the shadow's back but he had disappeared. He started calling out to Dave but no answer came.

The man of darkness wouldn't cease approaching. Kumori gritted his teeth, anticipating more than a clash of weaponry. Once again, his pupil dilated to engulf his eye whole, revealing the gaping chasm that lay within. Swirling, swirling, tainting his eternal soul with the same magic that breathed in the man approaching him. How he despised it.

There was a breeze flapping his cloak, but where had it come from?

And then, out of his peripheral vision, Kumori saw and felt the tremors in the ground, as it prepared to split like ice. Huge cracks zigzagged right in front of Kumori, and the ground opened up her yawning, gaping mouth, separating him from the man and his cavalry; namely the skeleton screaming bloodlust and murder. He had to admit, Kumori found a slight satisfaction somewhat, in watching the skeleton careen headfirst into the black hole.

All of that had happened within the space of a few seconds, barely giving him time to react. There was a whole spider web of cracks now, a network that was ever enlarging. Kumori himself stood on uneven ground, potentially treacherous ground, if he read the lay of the land correctly. Even more bizarre was the appearance of another giant, oversized plant, which surely must herald the arrival of the half-dragon creature.

Another tremor caused Kumori to lose his balance; he managed to steady himself, but he wasn't prepared for the one after that. And the hole was getting larger and larger.

It all happened in a green blur. Suddenly he was on solid ground, well, shaking unsteadily against the roots of a great oaken tree.

"My apologies, I do hope you're not injured..."

Kumori managed a thin smile, which turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Not at all, not at all," he said in response.

Just then, a slight prickling sensation caught the hairs on the nape of his neck. They were tingling, standing up on end. What was it? They were tingling to the scent of magic. And it was the magic of the dark man, but before, it had been controlled. Now, it seemed wild and terrifying, like a torrent that rent holes in the very fabric of space and time.

Kumori felt the atoms in his body being magnetically drawn towards it.

"No, no," he said through furiously gritted teeth.

What tricks were upon him now? And where was the man?

He caught sight of a wisp of the darkness. It was flowing down, down, into that gaping hole. The magic was too raw to be anything done on purpose, so Kumori surmised it must've been from an accident. That was no less reassuring.

Kumori struck his sword into the earth between the gnarled roost, and clung onto the hilt, for all he was worth, whilst around him, like sand grains, the world was being torn apart, as day was rendered night, and all the life, all the warmth of the nature was becoming drained, shrivelled and drained. It was a sand collector, a man collecting the light and bottling it for what purpose?

His eyes were furiously closed in a grimace of pain.

"Help me," he whispered to Lazarus.

Lazarus felt like he would like nothing more then to leave this chaotic scene and find that spot on the west side of the island where the grass grows the softest, and there is no canopy, so he could nap in the sun. Plus, at that distance, he could probably not see all the damage he had done; thank goodness they were far enough away from the actual ruins! His stomach clenched as he realized the damage he could have caused with his numb hand. Lazarus internally scolded himself for making such a stupid mistake, a small part of his wanting to simply hide from all the damage he had done.

But, there was no time for that. In fact, there was hardly time to consider the enemy. Lazarus' claws dug deep into the splintering earth. He could feel the distress of the roots and plants as they struggled to hold the ground under him, all the while fighting the stress of the weak ground, and the sudden dark gravity. Even with his magic resistant scales he felt the horrible tug, his claws sinking deep into the ground like a hot knife into butter.

What on god's green earth was happening?! A vortex of some kind seemed to have been created from the wound of that sinister dark creature! Whatever it was seemed to be draining the life from his precious forest, sipping it up as easily as water from a glass. Kumori seemed to be suffering horribly from it, muttering to himself in distress. Lazarus' heart panged in sympathy, his protector's instinct flaring up as he heard the stress in his comrade's voice.

Nudging the man down firmly, he took a few uneasy steps over him, again digging his claws into the unsteady ground.

'Hold into my legs,' his voice slipped through Kumori's mind as Lazarus leaned down, twisted upside-down to Kumori as he attempted a small smile, which came out more worrisome then he meant.

Straightening up, Lazarus looked back to The Image of Darkness, letting a smoldering shield of anger mask all the uncertainty he felt, the pain he felt at the life draining from his forest, and the worry he felt for the two kind souls on his island.  

"Stop this at once!" he barked, keeping himself taught, every muscle in every leg clenched as he faught the voice that wanted to drag him forward. His tail darted back and wrapped around the branch of a tilting tree, giving a slight anchor. Lazarus' pale straw colored hair seeped over his shoulders, curling and ridding on the pull of whatever magic was coming from Darkness.

Dave shrieked in terror as the darkness slowly crept towards him. He let go of the root and attempted to climb down to the root his feet were on. He continued in this way until he slipped and fell onto the lowest roots. He had to get away and fast. He didn't want to go back, not to the darkness. He looked down to the more natural darkness beneath him. The only way to get away from the darkness was to jump. If he died he would be free.

He clung to the root he was holding. He was now deep into the chasm and the roots here were not at all sturdy. He screamed out, 'DAAARRKNNEESSSSS!!!' He was half screaming out to his friend, half shrieking out at his darkest fear. He siddled down to the very tip of the root and looked around for a ledge or something, anything to get away from the approaching darkness. He let go and fell, deeper and deeper into the chasm until his bones crushed against against the wall and he rolled onto a ledge. If he had been fully alive he would have sustained great internal injuries and bled to death. Instead of this, he shattered most of his bones, including his mandible and skull.

Still the darkness came closer. He curled up as best he could. His arms and pelvis did not follow and four of his ribs fell from his thorax and onto the ledge beside him. Part of his mandible hung loose in its socket. He closed his eyes and tried to loose conciousness so that he could survive the mental onslaught.
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Darknes was escaping form Darkness's whole head now, pure and uncovered by the his body. He had to find something to cover himself with, as he did not have the time to fix his body properly. It would be useless though, anything he covered it with would only last a short while. It would not last long enough to get Dave out. Perhaps the half-dragon had some plant cure but the man seemed too inept to think things through. Why had the stupid creature created such a massive chasm and plant? Perhaps the creature had lost control of his abilities.

The hole got larger, it was now seaping down his neck. Why was it accellerating so fast? He finally got around to answerring the half-dragons question. He turned his body towards the creature.

The Image of Darkness's true voice rang out across the island, scatterring all the birds and causing any land anomals to crawl underground in fear, YOUR PLANT CREATED THIS HOLE, NOT ME. THIS IS ME. TELL ME, WHAT HAPPENS TO A PLACE THAT HAS NO LIGHT? I CANNOT DO THIS AND HELP MY FRIEND THOUGH SO YOU MUST UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SACRIFICING FOR Y--. He heard his friend sceaming and the sound of something falling. Dave would probably not survive this time, killing him would be the kinder option.

Hopefully the other two would understand what he meant. If he did not gain control of himself, the nymph would be the first to be mentally tortured until the darkness killed her. Next, Lazarus and the island would go. He did not know what would happen to the shadow he failed to control himself.

Darkness hung his head and focussed inwardly. He would have to try to hold the darkness in and trust the half-dragon. Deep inside he wanted to set himself free but now was not the time nor the place. He would have to go somewhere without life to do that. He inhaled, trying to suck the darkness back inside. His body would be able to be seen. Finally he would sew the wound shut with whatever the half-dragon could offer. It would need to be covered properly so it could heal. Darkness would have to stay here for a while so that he could heal without having to focus on anything else.

Darkness started trembling and sank to the ground. He had to withdraw and solidify himself before the darkness went any further.

Making a mental calculation, Kumori came to the painful conclusion that whatever had been unleashed seemed far too grand for any single being to control. All of the light was being sucked away and replaced by heavy, oozing darkness, a black magic that glittered with the thousand eyes of a poisonous black beetle. It wasn't there yet, but the wisps were swirling somewhat, round and round into the gaping hole in the earth. Soon it would become an unstoppable vortex, an unnatural whirlpool that would destroy all nature and order on this island.

And who knew what next? Would it stop after it had engulfed this island? Would it then move onto the rest of the world?

He wondered how he had managed to get himself caught in the middle of an impending apocalypse. Well Kumori, the battle you've always wanted is dawning upon you. Can you handle it?

Kumori simply closed his eyes and heaved a deep passive sigh, somehow resigned. In the wake of the immediate magnetic wrench, the magic imbedded within Kumori's very own molecular structure had responded. They were singing in harmony, on a different level, striking different note and tones, but they recognised this magic, and so they swayed as the notes do, high and low, winding this way and that, and...NO!

Mind over magic! He clenched his fists even tighter against the hilt, and flexed his muscles, feeling for something real, something tangible to hold onto. He needed feeling, human feelings, human emotions, human contact with any surface – the things he had shunned for such a long time. Abstract though they were, right now they were the most concrete things he needed to hold onto, to prevent himself from being swallowed up by dark magic.

Damn shadow magic, he thought with intense bitterness. If I could thrust it out of my essence I really would!

But, it had been so long since he had last gotten in touch with himself, he didn't know where to begin. He was a spectator, a passive traveller simply watching the world pass by rather than be an active participant. The accident had long since seen to it, that he could neither be completely with the living. Nor lie in peace with the dead.

"Hold into my legs."

"I thank you kindly, but the battle I am fighting is one that you cannot help me with." Kumori nodded once to emphasize his point.

Both he and Lazarus were at the edge of a line of old trees, so there were plenty of roots to use as anchors. He had been standing, but the weight of the magic had forced him to his knees. Kumori made himself relax, keeping a strong enough grip on his sword which was still embedded in the ground. He had to focus his mind; he had to reach a peaceful state...

YOUR PLANT CREATED THIS HOLE, NOT ME. THIS IS ME. TELL ME, WHAT HAPPENS TO A PLACE THAT HAS NO LIGHT? I CANNOT DO THIS AND HELP MY FRIEND THOUGH SO YOU MUST UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SACRIFICING FOR Y—

Kumori's eyes snapped open. Unexpected strength surged into his body and he stood up, eyes dilated to their full blackness. That was the only sign of the rage that had suddenly gripped him.

"How dare you." He said those three words so, so calmly, and so, so quietly, but...it was as if the noise of all the destruction had been turned down, a pause before the storm, or perhaps at the centre of it where everything was silent. Nevertheless, when Kumori spoke, despite the low voice, and the distance, his words carried over to the hole in the ground where both beings lay.

"How dare you." He repeated it again, and fuelled by something he had never felt before, he took a step towards the hole, not even noticing if Lazarus tried to stop him. This wasn't his battle. But...he had gotten involved, through no fault of his own, and now it was personal.

Lazarus tried not to let the far of shriek startle him, but he hadn't been present to witness the whole ordeal, so he had no complete idea of what was going on. A blankness swept across his face, draining all emotion, and suddenly it was as if he was simply another extention of nature; a force rather then a living, feeling thing. None of his actual power changed, it was only the complete lack of emotion that seemed so profound. The voice did not startled him, nor did the second far off shriek.

Somewhere in the chaotic crashing of his mind, was a thought fighting to break the surface. Another time he had been forced to lock everything away, and simply do what must be done. Lazarus was surprisingly, quite the compassionate creature, and it pained him to shut off his emotions, his heart... but it was a reflex in crisis, even if it brought him closer to the memories he never wanted to relive again; countless dead bodies, not enough grave space.

That time he had not smiled for years. He knew it would not be so horrible this time, he only had to correct the current problem.

Kumori's refusal jostled him slightly; the man had asked for help only to refuse? Yet could Lazarus not relate to those fickle feelings? The urge to reach out aside the stuborn refusal to accept help? Yes, those were feelings he knew to well. His blank eyes fell to Kumori for a moment, who was now stewing in rage.

Ironic, Lazarus thought. The stoic one was so volitile now, and he himself hardly had the energy to panic.

Even at the mention of his home with no light. Even at the sight of Kumori raging; bordering on something unthinkable.  

Lazarus thought then of Lyra, in his calm detached mind-voice, and knew he had to do something. Because he was not wasting thought o panic, he could feel it as soon as it happened; the shift.

The tug of the darkness on his scales was not so strong; what had been a white rapid became a hurried river. There was still a strong pull, but the darkness was ebbing.

And Kumori looked as if he was about to attack.

"Wait," Lazarus said, for once sounding his proper age, youth ringing clear in his tone. He held up his dragon's claw, urging Kumori to stay put. There was a darkness surging in Kumori as well it seemed, but Lazarus was still calm under that blanket of no emotion.

"He's trying to stop it, I think..." With his dragon hand still outstretched, Lazarus extended his senses and mentally groped for the proper herb... Another carnivorous plant that was almost akin to a parasite. When placed on open wounds the tiny, thorned black vine would wiggle about, weaving into the skin and planting itself into the wound, absorbing whatever flowed from the cut (blood, infection, Lazarus knew the resilient little buggers could handle most anything). Said little vine would feast itself to death, eventually withering and falling from wherever it was applied, which was often about a week later.

His hand was still numb, and for a moment he feared he was blind of his nature sense... but suddenly there it was, the parasite vine. He called it to him and a tiny vine leapt into his hand, barely catching on the tips of his fingers; his aim was still off if he couldn't control a tiny plant.

"Here," he tossed the little wriggling thing to Darkness, "use this to close the wound." He watched them, Kumori and Darkness, feeling his panic ebb at his mask of indifferent calm. His home was so battered now, as soon as he could Lazarus would wash his hand and gain back his nature sense; spend perhaps all day helping the plants to grow back again.

If he made it through this, that was.

Darkness closed his eyes. He heard the shadow speak but was not listening hard enough to know what he had said. He heard the man's footsteps and groaned, the shadow was going to get himself sucked in, or perhaps he would lose himself. The Image of Darkness tried to increase his focus and control but he was already at the height of his strength. All he could do to help the shadow was to do his best to draw himself in.

Perhaps the man would listen to reason, 'stand down, shadow. I have offered you no insult nor harm. Stand down I tell you, you will accomplish nothing by committing suicide.'

Darkness's body could now be seen inside the miasma, it was crouched up and covered in a thick layer of sweat. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to breath in some of the darkness while still trying to breath normal air. He groaned, if he managed to do this he would need to sleep for severeal days.

He heard the half dragon's voice and the sound of something falling near him. Hopefully the stupid creature hadn't tried to attack him with something else. He could not focus on the darkness and defend himself. The darkness took precendce so he would have to worry about any wounds later. It's not like they would be able to get too close to him, right?

The last of the darkness was sucked in and he growled loudly in his low, deep voice. He remained kneeling and focused on the cut. He would have to keep everything contained until his body healed, it was very dangerous and needed constant focus. Slowly he looked up. There was a plant next to him. He didn't look at the half-dragon but murnered to him, 'what is this?' He would have asked more but he was too drained of energy.

Another distant cry sounded, was it Dave, the nymph or something else? 'Dave,' he groaned. Even now he would not be able to help Dave. Healing and holding everything in was more important. He let his head drop down once more, lowerring his body so that his head touched the ground. Had he allowed it, he would have shed a tear. 'I'm, sorry Dave.'

"You are helping him out of compassion for his suffering when he intends to do you harm," Kumori said in a flat tone to Lazarus. Even though the words were spoken quietly, once again they were still heard above the deafening roar of the vortex. "The wish to stop this madness is an understanding common to both of us, however I do not understand why you are helping him out of compassion."

Kumori couldn't understand why the half-dragon wanted to help this man, this man, who had come all this way with the intent of doing harm, of kidnap. Was this the precursor to a state of, what was it...Stockholm Syndrome? That sounded like the right name for this; loyalty towards the abductor.

However, there were other mitigating circumstances to take into account. Let's say...the violent torrent of darkness that was about to suck everything into a singularity. His eyes flicked from the flesh wound of the man's face, to the crackling vortex a few feet up in the air. Holy gods, it was distorting the light itself so that everything appeared to bend around it.

He listened to the half-dragon, and also to the voice of his reason, his better judgement. This was sheer mockery, wasn't it. The minute he decided to be pro-active and to do something, it all got thrown back. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming. Maybe it was time to stop playing a character in a story, and simply slip back into the background.

A sudden jolt almost wrenched his sword from the ground. Ha, he wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway, without being sucked in. The moment he let go of the sword, he would be swept away, and it was too hard to get back behind the shelter of the trees. He could only hold onto the hilt with his heels digging into the ground. His muscles were screaming in protest, and the clamour in his mind was becoming unbearable.

They had to stop this! Would decapitation be the answer? The half-dragon didn't seem to think so. He seemed to think there was a more compassionate way. Fine. He would see what would happen. If those plants couldn't seal the wound, then Kumori knew what he would have to do.

It was with an eerie lack of hesitation that Lazarus approached Darkness, a sort of dull tired expression on his face, He bent his front knees, sinking down in front of Darkness and scooping up the little wriggling plant he had tossed. He held it out in his dragon's claw, letting the thin worm-like vines lightly touch Darkness' cheek. Instantly the plant lept onto his skin. It wouldn't hurt at all, in fact the numbing agent the plant secreted would make the touch hardly noticeable.  

Where the wound had been the plant nestled onto Darkness' skin like a scar, planting itself there and then, oddly, turning a deep ill purple, almost black. Lazarus frowned, he had never seen anything like that before. Still, it was not as if that wound was a normal one.

Lazarus took a moment to glance around and survey the damage; his body ached with the mere thought of how much energy it would take to fix it all. He pushed away the impending fatigue with a small shake of his head, his sleek ash-blond air scattering around his shoulders, snaring on his elkish horns.

"That," he finally explained, letting his serpentine eyes slant slowly to Darkness, "Is the plant world's answer to stitches; it's much less damaging and works a lot better. In a few days, the plant will fall off, hopefully giving you enough time to heal..." Lazarus watched Darkness for a moment, remaining crouched but on his guard, his muscles tensed and ready to move, etched out in sharp edges under his scales, and ridged lines under his skin. "Can you stand? Or do you need a ride?" he added softly, shifting uncomfortably around his own contempt for his would-be captor.

Lazarus reasoned with himself that it was tradition to respect every form of life, thus violence against a wounded being, even one like Darkness, would be unforgivable. Besides, taking care of him would allow Lazarus to question him about his intentions; why the sudden capture attempt? He realized taking care of Darkness did not only fit under his people's tradition, but also served his own purpose, as well. If nothing else, it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Darkness.

Lazarus raised his voice once more, so Kumori would easily be able to hear him. "It is a tradition of my people to respect life in all forms," he said, voice somewhere between wooden and sorrowful, a slip Lazarus had not intended. "As for compassion... it's simply a side note that I am a compassionate being. I do what I do for tradition, and tradition first. Upholding the values of my tribe is part of my mission, after all," he twisted slightly at the waist, so he could meet Kumori's eyes as he spoke. The scales on Lazarus' eyelids glistened like little flakes of emerald as he blinked; slowly, thoughtfully.  

He let the silence seep around them for a few long moments; it seemed thick and hot in replacement for the chill and rush the dark vortex had created.

Take care Darkness, perhaps Kumori -if not only question his plan of action- fix the damage Lazarus and the vortex had caused... and find Lyra. Lazarus doubted for a moment he would have the energy to carry anyone back to the shelter of the ruins, in fact he wasn't sure he had the energy to get there himself. For a moment he felt much to young for all of this... but he waited for that feeling to pass.

((OOC: OMG you guys ;_; I am so sorry! *points to signature* as you can see... exam evilness ;_; I'm almost done tho! Then I'll be way faster, promise!!))

Darkness ignored the shadow. The man was not worth the effort right now.

He didn't move or struggle as the half-dragon placed the plant on him. He felt it knit into the skin and pull at the edges. That was a good sign. If the plant suvived his healing process he would have to take a sample back. It may even be useful on Dave if he was still alive.

Darkness listeed to the dragon-man speak but took very little register of it. He was so damned exhausted. He lifted his head an noticed the dragon-man surveying the damage. He looked haggard, surely the darkness hadn't taken that much out of the creature. 'I will help with the repairs. You and the rest of you people deserve that.'

He pushed himself to his feet, ambled over and held onto the half-dragon. He would not ride the creature but he would use him for support. It took him a few moments to refocus his energy before speaking, 'so long as I don't have to walk far.'

The magnetic pull upon his body ceased, and Kumori's muscles finally gave way, allowing his body to collapse. His sword clattered to the ground beside him as he sank to his knees, trying to contain the trembling that had broken out across his body. It was a fine trembling, tiny spasms of muscle that indicated deep and utter fatigue. How much energy had he expended, fighting off the pull of the dark vortex?

He lifted heavily lidded eyes to the spot above the gaping hole in the ground, and watched dully as the black vortex grew smaller and smaller, spiralling in on itself into a tiny singularity. It spiralled ever smaller, and finally winked out of existence. To Kumori, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his world. Something heavy, something oppressive had been removed, and now, once he recovered, he would be able to walk free again.

This shouldn't have affected him so much.

Maybe, if he listened to himself...

He closed his eyes, and allowed his breathing to synchronise with the rise and fall of the wind. Closing in, focusing inwards, Kumori found that white peaceful part of himself where he used to seek strength and solace, back when he was still a member of the old order. Back when he had been one-hundred percent human rather than this monstrosity.

"It is a tradition of my people to respect life in all forms."

Those words came back to him.

Why?

Because...they imparted the same views that Kumori himself stood for. And yet, he had allowed himself to become blinded by hate and prejudice. Hate, for the darkness. It was a hate stemmed more from hatred for himself, rather than anything else. He couldn't...wouldn't accept what he was. Hell, he didn't even know what he was!

The shadows rose and fell around him, clamouring in his mind for his personal undivided attention. In anger, Kumori shoved them away.

How dare you invade my personal space!

They were there too, in his mind...everywhere. And they would never ever leave him alone. For as long as there was life in this body, for as long as his lungs could draw another breath, they would be here with him, until his dying day.

His shoulders slumped, and he opened his eyes. Picking up his sword, he used it to lever himself upright. Kumori sighed when it seemed as though the half-dragon had made his choice to help the man who was here to kidnap him.

Well, so be it.

Without a backward glance, he sheathed his sword, shook his cloak and headed off in a different direction, through the denser part of the forest. No doubt dangers lay here. No doubt he would find peace too. And if the man of darkness did try something dishonourable again then he wouldn't be too far away.

He wondered what would become of the skeleton though, trapped at the bottom of that hole. He wondered, and then realised that he didn't care.

Lazarus watched Kumori go, wishing he had something worth calling out to the man but knowing that he had nothing to say that Kumori would find any value in. He was obviously  someone who had been through something terrible, and the days events had seemed to agitate old wounds. Lazarus sighed, feeling a familiar sense of uselessness, and then batting it quickly away.

He was startled then to hear Darkness speak. Not only that, he seemed to be offering to help fix the damage.

"Thank you... but I do believe it is more beneficial for you to heal, and I should be able to fix this alone..." his voice dropped to a quite mumble "after I wash the damn numbing powder off my claw..." he flexed his dragon hand in irritation, shaking his head to scatter all the self scolding thoughts that buzzed there. It was a stupid mistake, but what was done was done, and he could only fix the damage that was caused. "The rest of my people... I wonder, are you aware that I am the very last...?" it was mostly a question to himself, but he spoke it out loud anyway.

Lazarus offered his arm for support, giving a curt nod to Darkness' question. "It's not far." He began to walk, keeping his pace slow so Darkness could keep up as well. The plant-life parted before them like curtains as they walked through the brush, and soon huge stone buildings became visible through the spaces between the trees. As they climbed the impressive looking stone steps that lead to the huge arching doorway into what appeared to be some sort of temple, Lazarus began to speak.

"My name is Lazarus, and this, more then anywhere else on this island, is my home. This is where I sleep, and where I spend the most time, so I ask that you treat it with care. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask." As they stepped inside, the walls of the temple came into view. They were covered with mosaics, little flakes of emerald, sapphire, ruby, and other precious things dotted the walls to create beautiful pictures of other creatures just like Lazarus. In this depiction, they seemed to be dancing in celebration around a huge roaring fire.

"That being said, I do not want you to feel frightened to ask for anything. My people are- were a very peaceful race, and we do not abide by violence against life of any kind. In fact, we never kill... unless it is to eat." He came to a stop just before a sprawling nest of different fabrics, silks and cottons and other such things he had collected. His voice did not change tone as he spoke next; remaining calm and detached as it had before, "Though... should you chose not to honor the traditions of my people while you stay... should you chose to harm Lyra, or Kumori... I feel I should warn you, I am not picky in what I eat." Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, he managed a trim half-smile.

"I am going to wash my claw so it is no longer numb. Then, I'm going to find you some more of those plants to keep your wound shut. I'm also going to check on Lyra, and Kumori... and see if I can find your skeleton friend." Lazarus stopped talking, but his voice filtered into Darkness' mind.

'Then I am going to see about fixing the damage I caused. If you need anything, you can call me the same way I am speaking to you know. I opened a channel between us... so should you need anything, do call.'

Darkness groaned in reply, he didn't have much energy left for much else. He would talk to the half-dragon later. He then pushed himself over to something that may have been a bed and sat down. He closed his eyes and continued to focus on holding everything in.

When the half-dragon mentioned Dave, Darkness pulled out the broken arm and stared at it. Dave, hang in there.

The darkness swirled within him, fighting to be free once more. Darkness knew that it was a part of himself that could never really be free. He had often used it to scare people or drive them insane if they attacked him but he had never truly let it free.

Lazurus spoke into his mind so Darkness put up a shield against the black pit within him. Get out of there, it is dangerous, he ordered. He tried to force the dragon-man out of his mind but did not have the energy nor the talent. Darkness had no mind control abilities to use to protect the dragon or the link he produced. Break the link on your way out.


OOC: Sorry it's so short. Also, I want Darkness to find Dave if that's okay. Lazarus can look for him but perhaps the chasm is too thin to get down to Dave or something impedes him.

Kumori was sat upon another rock again, similar to the one he had first been upon when he had encountered the half-dragon earlier in the day. It was now late afternoon, and here in the dense undergrowth, the heavy air hung saturated with vapour and an assortment of buzzing insects, flitting to and fro as they ceaselessly pollinated all the wild and fabulous flowers that breathed life here. The terrain was exceedingly jungle-like; so warm that he had to remove his cloak. Currently, all of Kumori's belongings lay in a small pile at his feet - the neatly folded cloak, the sheathed sword, his small backpack of essentials, and his water-skin.

He removed the glove from his right hand and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his ghostly pale flesh to the dancing sun beams, the shafts of wonderful light that managed to slice through the canopy. His flesh didn't feel the warmth of the sunlight very often. Most of his body was wrapped up in incredibly tight black linen clothing, held together by black leather straps, which he was currently unfastening. After he exposed his right arm, he did the same with his left arm. This was the hand that had been blistered by the shining golden spore of the half-dragon's tree.

The flesh was still puffy and red, and seemed to have spread slightly. It looked as if it had been burned. Flexing his hand, he felt part of his skin crack in the ridges, and winced. In all of the hassle earlier, he hadn't noticed this pain, but here where he was alone, every sound, every thought, every action, and every feeling was magnified. His other muscles clenched in retaliation to the pain, and momentarily, his pupils dilated, so that the blackness filled his eyes, but then it passed.

Looking around, his eyes roamed the surroundings, searching for a healing herb, or for any of the more versatile plants that he could make a bandage from. As he owned so little, Kumori was pretty adept at using whatever nature threw at him as a resource, and in time, he had fashioned some bandages from some large leaves and had clumsily tied it up using some vines. The leaves had been lined with some herbs which he had crushed. They weren't healing herbs, but would calm his skin down, and would suffice until he could get back to the ship, or find something better.

A thought occurred to him. How was the nymph doing? He wondered if he should go seek her out and see if she was alright. He could vaguely remember which direction he had come from so it shouldn't be too much hassle finding his way out of here. But, a little nap wouldn't do him any harm. And it was so peaceful here...

OOC: No problem; I'll come up with something so Laz wont find Dave :D Sorry this is so long guys ;_; I know a lot of it doesn't really seem relevant >_>;; but I kinda suck at trying to write things so they don't come out long ^_^;;

Lazarus couldn't help a small sigh, his lean arms folding crispy across his chest.

"You worry to much. I am not... inside your mind, my mental powers compare to speaking. It is no danger at this level, I promise you," Lazarus struggled to think of an example Darkness could understand, but he knew very little he could use to give examples with at all.

"Once, I traveler's child showed me this strange contraption; two empty cans with a string between them. She showed me that if she spoke into one can from a ways away, and if the string between them was taut, then I could hear her. That's really all my power is... at this level. But I do not intend to forge any greater connection with you," he said this as if if were completely ridiculous. "Besides, I need to be able to communicate with you, should you need anything." With that, Lazarus gave a small dismissive wave, and headed for the door. He was a little irritated over the lack of response he had gotten for all his previous comments, but he hoped the silence from Darkness only meant his warnings had been taken seriously.

Time to work, he thought to himself, suddenly fiercely missing all the peaceful solitude he had taken for granted just that morning. It didn't take him long to find a vein of river and clean his hand, nor to gallop to the scene of the recent havoc. Lazarus looked carefully down each crevasse with his darkness-piercing eyes, but saw no flash of white bone. Perhaps the skeleton creature fell into the underground river, Lazarus mused with a small frown, or perhaps the ghosts found him. There were a small collection of pirate ghosts down below, although they were only unfriendly to obviously alive creatures, Dave seemed to be the type of creature they would like.

Either way he had to much left to do before donating any huge amount of time to exploring the underground caves, so he vowed to do that later, and perhaps ask Darkness if he'd like to come as well.

Each time he was sure the break in the ground he checked was empty, Lazarus would set to weaving vines, grasses, and mosses about the wounded earth, stitching it together as easily as if it were skin, and he a skilled surgeon. By the end of it, the ground was rocky and uneven in spots but there were no visible cracks. Long grasses and hardy looking mosses carpeted the ground, while trees with impressive powerful looking roots clutched the ground together in spots where it might have been weak. The huge carnivorous flower, and the spore producing tree, had been reshuffled to a sharp ridge of rock. This way, no wondering animal could accidentally stumble upon them, and the flower could have the pleasure of eating anything that tumbled off the above cliff.  

After that, Lazarus had very little energy left for gathering, but set to it anyway. After an hour or two he had a woven grass basket filled with a variety of different brightly colored herbs. There were a few flowers, some small dark colored leaves and a few thin bright vines. He had collected a good deal of that worm-like parasite plant, because it appeared the one he had given Darkness before was not going to hold up well. Lazarus supposed this was because the wound was as much magical as physical.

'If only I knew of a way to lessen the effects of magic-' he stopped mid thought, blinking slowly, and shook his head with a slow groan. Today was not Lazarus' day for thinking clearly.

For the second time that day Lazarus carefully pulled off one of his smaller scales, this one from just below his human belly. Pressing the point of the tear-drop shape to the soft middle of his human palm, he let his own blood drip over the edges. One the scale was slick enough, he reached into his basket and produced a wriggling wormy parasite plant, and let it crawl across the scale. It happily fastened to the bloody edges, creating something that looked somewhat like an eye patch. Lazarus wrapped the whole thing in a huge furry leaf about the size of his foot, wanting to keep it safe from any other plants, and dropped it in his basket.  

Next on his agenda, was to check up on Kumori and Lyra. He happened across the shadow warrior first, whom appeared to be resting upon a huge sun-saturated rock. Lazarus smiled faintly as he approached, deciding that as soon as he was done, he would most likley do the same.

He noticed with a small frown the makeshift bandage Kumori had made, and remembered the spores that had damaged him. The whole battle seemed like something from years ago; the peace of the jungle muffling any lingering traces of strife in the air.

"Good afternoon, Kumori," he said politely, quietly, testing to see if the other was even awake. "How are your wounds? You did a fine job at tending them."

OOC: It seems people are going to look for Lyra next round, or at least soon :O Is she okay to come back yet? Anyone know?

The Image of Darkness only half listened to what the half-dragon was saying. The creature seemed to need to talk a lot, much like Dave in that way. Darkness tried not to think about Dave, or anything else, for the rest of the day. The grief would only guild as he ignored it but for now, controlling himself was more important.

Slowly, shadows began to flicker about the room. A more natural side to Darkness that would not harm anything. Every now and then Darkness would breathe deeply and pull the darkness back in.

OOC: I'm afraid that Darkness is going to be a little inactive for a while. Unless something goes wrong he has nothing to do except control himself and get tired. Do you want me to still post or would you rather that I just put little things like this?

"Good afternoon, Kumori. How are your wounds? You did a fine job at tending them."

Even before the half-dragon spoke, Kumori seemed somehow to be aware of his presence. It felt like a shadow on the fringes of his mind vision, something fleeting. It was something non-corporeal yet held a light weight, like moth wings trembling. It had been a long time since Kumori had really and truly abandoned himself to the full immersions of sleep.

These days, he was just drifting with the vestiges; always needing to be alert for one reason or another. This was another example of the shadowy dream-like world he inhabited where it was neither night nor day, a twilight state of being.

Raising himself into a sitting position, Kumori slowly climbed up the walls to the tower of the wakeful. The stages to waking up melted into each other. When one was truly asleep, it was a delight, for sleep was delicious and warm and golden. Blinking fuzzily, he suppressed a yawn and locked his gaze onto the half-dragon.

Hm, his inner voice murmured thoughtfully. Never even caught this fellow's name.

In response to the half-dragon's words, Kumori's lips twitched into the faint traces of a smile, and he allowed his gaze to fall upon his arm. Flexing his bicep, the plant sling shivered against the rough cloth of his clothing.

"I don't suppose you have any aloe around here?"

As he spoke, he realised that he was in a state of disarray. Kumori leaned over and picked up his cloak. Shaking it so that the material unfolded, he then wrapped it around himself so that he felt less exposed. Building up the walls again, he slipped his glove on too, and got to his feet.

((Sorry for short post!))

"Aloe, aloe..." Lazarus paused thoughtfully, one of his long dragon fingers tapping his flank absently, creating a glass-like clicking sound. "Yes, a short ways from here. I'll show you," he said, shifting the basket against his entirely human arm.

As Kumori adjusted his clothing and pulled on his cloak, Lazarus' head gave a curious tilt. He vocalized no curiosity, for he knew clothing was a common concern for most humans (or human shaped creatures) but the idea of it still confused him. Why would any creature want to cover up their original form? Especially in such heat? Suddenly, a different thought struck him.

"It occurs to me that you have shared your name, and yet do not know mine," human hand occupied, Lazarus offered his claw to shake, a gesture he had picked up from the few friendly travelers that had chanced across his island years before. "My name is Lazarus," he said, the whiteness of his fangs, and snake-like canine teeth showing faintly through his smile. Despite his somewhat reserved expression, his massive tail swayed leisurely behind him, a relaxed gesture.

As he turned and prepared to lead Kumori the short distance to the little aloe patch, he added. "I apologize for causing such a mess in the middle of that... confrontation," he flexed his claw at his side, making sure no touch of numbness lingered there. "It was a stupid mistake on my part."  

((No worries :D Interaction always ends up a little shorter after all ^_^ ))

Darkness took a deep breath to draw in as much of the darkness as possible. He rubbed his face; the strain of holding himself at bay was wearisome. Perhaps there was some plant that could drain the fatigue off him. He would ask the half-dragon when he got back.

"My name is Lazarus."

Kumori looked down at the extended claw hand and deduced that the being now known as Lazarus wished to shake appendages. He pressed his gloved palm against Lazarus's claws, and shook it slightly dubiously. Not really being much for physicality or formality, Kumori felt somewhat out of place with this traditional greeting. But he tried to make it look as hearty as possible, even managing a faint watery smile. Kumori let go of the hand and bent over to retrieve his things before following Lazarus.

"I apologize for causing such a mess in the middle of that... confrontation. It was a stupid mistake on my part."

"What is done is done," Kumori replied.

The past was something that couldn't be changed, so why bother dwelling on it? It was funny, that, for Kumori brooded upon his past for far longer than he would've liked to admit.

He ducked to avoid some vines, which sported huge yellow bell flowers. Both his and Lazarus' movements caused them to tremble in the canopy so they spilled their pollen and nectar in a fine mist. The smell was sweet, like honey. A gargantuan bee buzzed past, eager to snatch up the golden nectar, and like before, when the stinging spores had drifted down, Kumori paused and tilted his face upwards, watching the pollen drift. A few particles landed on his nose, and he sneezed in response. Sniffing, Kumori hurried on after Lazarus.

He didn't know where they were going, but here, the jungle seemed to be thicker and therefore darker. Something up ahead was white and swinging from side to side, ever so slowly. Kumori couldn't make out what it was at first, but there was something not quite right, which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Lazarus?" He enquired.

They were much closer now, and Kumori could clearly perceive that it was a skeleton, hanging from what appeared to be a weathered trap. The skeleton still sported tattered clothing, remnants of a uniform. The noose and the trap seemed far too complicated to have been made by anything he had seen so far in this forest, apart from...

...the being sauntering ahead of him.

((Sorry about the late reply, had a rather action packed weekend!))

"What is done is done."

How true, Lazarus thought with a little pang of relief; fretting over it would do nothing, so why bother? He could not help the faintest of chuckles as Kumori sneezed, giving a small wave of his claw so the vines around them lifted a few inches, making the path for them the slightest bit wider.

"What a horrible place to have allergies," he mused, taking a deep breath and savoring the sweet smell of the bright yellow flowers. He was so intent on watching the pollin as it floated like little specks of gold, he hardly noticed the swinging white remains until Kumori said his name.

Even so, the creature hardly looked phased in the least.

"Does the sight of him bother you?" he asked in the same careless, unworried voice. Lazarus took a few more heavy steps, stopping just before the hanging trap and bending down. Below the dead thing's feet sprouted the thick and waxy looking plant, the thorns on its edges a little sharper looking than normal. Lazarus plucked a few of the thick vibrant green sprouts and tossed them in Kumori's direction.

Standing close to the skeleton, with the cover of the hanging vines slightly lifted, it was easy to see all the scars that covered the old bones; claw marks, teeth marks, cracks in the marrow. Some of the bones were even missing.  

Lazarus' eyes drifted back to the hanging body, his snake-like pupils expending as he sunk into thought.

"He was a trapper..." he mused out loud, "Part of a crew... I warned them to leave, but they would not. So here he is... I do not kill, you see. This way, his body gave everything back to the earth... creatures could feed on his flesh, his decomposition could feed the plants... retribution could be given for what he tried to take."

The Image of Darkness needed water. He put one hand on his head and pushed himself to his feet. With one hand on his head and the other outstretched, he went to find an ewer or something. He found something that looked like water and used it to cool his face before drinking. It tasted like water, only cleaner. He sat on the floor, groaning as he went. There was too much light but he didn't want to relax his hold. He would just have to wait for the half-dragon to return.

"Does the sight of him bother you?"

Kumori stared at the hanging skeleton. The bones swayed gently in time to the music of the wind, with the sighs of the leaves as an accompaniment. His eyes then followed Lazarus as he moved to stand just underneath the dead man. Catching the sprouts was no more than an instantaneous reaction, a reflex that was quick as lightning and had passed before he even had time to blink, or to wonder why he was holding some parts of a green plant in his hand.

"Not as much as I would have liked it to bother me."

His voice too was empty.

Kumori had relapsed back into the state of being he had embodied when first setting foot here. It was strange to think that so much had happened, in so little time. No more than a few hours had passed.

"I do not kill, you see."

Looking at the dead man, it was convenient though, how the man had fallen into his own trap. The irony did not escape Kumori's attention.

He'd forgotten to ask the Captain when the ship would be setting off again, so Kumori's next thought was to find out where the coast was, so he could see if the ship was still there on the other island. If the tide was high, then he wouldn't be able to walk back across the sandy stretch.

Changing the subject, he asked, "How far away are we from the coast?"

((OOC: Okay, WTF yahoo mail, I NEVER got a post saying there was new stuff here >_>;; so sorry, didn't know it was my turn! *hurries!*))

Lazarus felt small pangs of concern for the man before him; there was something so distinctly broken about him, and not just in the way the numbness blanketed him at that moment. No, it was something more, something that went far deeper then a simple lacking of emotion. Most creatures, Lazarus included, could switch off an unpleasant feeling when necessary... but this seemed less then a choice, it seemed in fact the lack of it. Lazarus was unsure of what to say; this creature had somehow managed to be both impressive and pitiable, and he doubted very much Kumori would enjoy hearing either observation.

"The coast? Oh, it is a ways. Perhaps a few hours on your feet. Is there somewhere you need to be?" he asked with a touch of genuine curiosity. Kumori didn't seem the type to have a driving direction, yet Lazarus supposed that he may just not wish to be stuck on the island, especially with all the drama that had, and was bound to happen.

It occurred to Lazarus it had been a long while since he had seen either of the islands other two visitors, so tentatively he reached out through his thoughts, his senses fanning out, threadbare but stretched far across the island.

'Shadow-creature?' he had yet to learn Darkness' name, 'Are you still well?' even his mind voice was crisp and held little kindness, but he was truly concerned for him. Then, in a much softer brighter tone, he called out, 'Lyra?'

'I am not a shadow and I do not want you near my mind. I am struggling as it is without you getting in here,' The Image of Darkness relpied in a similar tone. He did not bother to answer the half-dragon but attempted to break the link. If something did happenwhile the link was connected, the creature could be driven insane.

"I am not sure," Kumori murmured, a little absentmindedly. He was bound to this earth by no chains, other than the invisible ones that had kept his soul from slipping into the eternal afterlife. "I go where the wind takes me."

He couldn't see how high up in the sky the sun was, but chances were it would have set by the time he made it back to where the ship had last been. A tingling feeling in his hand, as if a wave of needles had been splashed upon it, brought his thoughts back to the present.

"Are we close to the aloe, Lazarus? For my hand does itch so."

((Real life is pretty heavy, so sorry for short post! Turns out I will be going away again, soon for a week or so, argh!! >.< *bows for forgiveness*))