Playing For Keeps

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OOC: tags to @Imperfect_M

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Ketra, city of the damned-

Or at least it felt that way for Dehzrehn Draven, a Connlaothian of noble birth forced south due to the many conflicts of the war. He knew it was because he was an embarrassment and that the rumors (which were mostly true), reflected badly on his father and it was much easier to sweep his son's stories under the rug by forcing him to travel south 'for business'.

Never mind he was still healing, the sword wound itchy across his chest. Or the fact he should be heading back out onto the battle field....
But there was too many skeptics and superstitions...
'He was using magic!'
'I saw it! Or else I'd be dead!'

The irony that he'd never truly used his powers in battle to save his own hide but relinquished that secret the moment one of his companions in arms was about to be crushed by a falling parapet... He was a fool. But should he have left the man to simply be crushed? Perhaps. He had a mere second to react and according to his father and the captain who lead the men Dez had served...
It was the wrong one.

Now they had to wave off the accusations with ones of their own- that it was impossible for this non mage man to have possibly used magics.

But now here he was, stepping off a boat and heading into land.
Towards Ketra. It was a lively trade city, one of the largest in the south (except, the Essyrnis would argue that their city was vastly superior and larger still.) Dehzrehn wouldn't know. He had never been so far south. In fact,  he couldn't have known that during this trip, he would still never visit Ketra.


He was actually surprised to see so many Essyrnians on his trip from the north, from Cerenis to his final port at Ramsheed. He took in the sights of the bustle of people before him. It was nothing like home, like the Connlaothian ports, with their pale skinned men hefting cargoes on heavy mules and animals. Here, the people were more... colorful, the place fanning open like some sort of exotic tree. And it wasn't as if he had never been here before...
Except he had not. At least not during any rational part of his life. He was about two years old when his family had traveled here. His older brothers even barely recalled their time down there-
Except his eldest, Zahn. Zahn had been to Ketra and just about every Adelan port many times.

He frowned at the remembrance of his brother...

He didn't even give him a well wish goodbye. If anything, he felt as if he shouldn't turn his back on him as he was carted off towards an Allarrian port city where he'd board the Tiffany's Waves- an enormous and slightly famous trade ship that was constantly running the coast. It was one of his father's and had recently dropped of it's goods for trade. And although the boat was not scheduled to set sale for another two weeks...

Money talked, and it only took two days before Tiffany's Waves was back at sea.

The first few days he was a little green behind the gills, not having been on a ship in a few years made him lose that hardiness his father tried to press. But when you send your sons off to war instead of continuing the family trade...

Well, he supposed his father was happy enough (even though he was embarrassed by him) that at least now one of his sons was at least beginning to conduct the trades on his own. Dehzrehn was no fool, but he was no real tradesmen. He knew the bare bones that his family had taught him, sure, but that was the trade tactics of a Connlaothian, and he himself had never been the forefront, let alone of foreign aspirations. He supposed his father was desperate enough that it didn't matter. He just hoped the Adelans, with their well known fiery personality, would not be so hot tempered with trade.

Despite the war, the ship carried many goods and furs, ones the Adelans found as exotic and would pay a premium for, especially considering most men who had a trade were recruited for war, and less and less Connlothians were making the treks down south.

So in one regards, he already knew it would be very profitable. Even his father said he couldn't mess this up. Plus, there was always the need for more supplies to fuel the war.


Southward he continued to go, with mostly good sailing. It was almost too convenient. Usually there's at least a storm or two, or some rain. There was only one time they had to deal with some bad fog for a rain they had missed. But he was told, (and felt it too) that fog could be far more treacherous than a roaring sea.

Transcience was a port city in Serendipity they'd land on for just the night, taking into land a few scheduled trades. Although the night before they made dock (which would have been quite early in the morning), the young man was having a hard time sleeping and found himself on the deck of the ship taking a stroll. Clouds were rolling in overhead, and a cool breeze swept sweetly across the entire ship and cooled off Dehzrehn's brow. It was a warm night, perhaps unusually so, so he enjoyed the wind.

He was leaning against the port side, simply watching the waves in hops to lull his restless mind when something unusual caught his attention in the moonlight. Was that a woman swimming out in the sea?

But another shipmate drew his attention away and when he turned back around to see if she was still there...
He saw nothing but waves. He must have been tired. So he retreated to his bunk.

Next morning business conducted as usual. They went into port, the shipmaster was at his side to help him in the exchange and they would be on their way. Heading back to ship, something, or rather someone caught his eyes. Down on the shore there was a woman coming out of the water. He thought back to the woman he saw in the sea. No, it couldn't have been her. He had been seeing things. But he couldn't take his eyes off of her, until one of his men stumbled into him a jostled him out of his moment of distraction.  Cargo had spilled snd he was quick to help pick up the supplies and recrate them, all the time stealing glances to look for some woman who was no longer there.

But duty called him elsewhere and soon the young Lord Draven and his crew were docking in Cerenis.

This time the stay was much longer, a couple of weeks and then they'd be on their way south again. Cerenis was a lot more enjoyable than the smaller sea side town of Transcience, and the first few days he was rather uneasy around so many who openly used magic...
That by the end of his stay, he was feeling much more at ease, as a stranger here but...
Also simply as a person. The people of Cerenis seemed a lot more welcome than those in Connlaoth. The war made it twice as bad, perhaps even worse than that, so it was nice to stay in taverns and visit the locals and get to laugh.

But even as he enjoyed himself here, he felt a sense of guilt. Here he was, actually enjoying his journey when back at home...
War tore the place apart.

It was just as he was thinking about his home that someone across the way caught his attention.
No.. it couldn't have been.
Was it that strange woman from Transcience? That town had been so unusually small for a port that... The odds were stacked against such a thing. But he couldn't forget such a beauty,  something drawing him towards her eyes-which he noted, seemed to almost glow.

But as it was before, he was pulled along to other ventures and continued his journey south. He stopped at a few more port cities before finally making his way towards his last port- of Ramsheed and then the journey landward towards Ketra- capital of the Adelan Nation.

And peculiar as it may seem....
Each Serenian and then Adelan town he passed.... He swore he saw the same dark haired, golden eyed young woman. Was it a sign? He couldn't have known. He wasn't superstitious...
Although... he supposed he could be.


The Adelan port city of Ramsheed was so grand, but far less glamorous as the famous northern city Cerenis, whose colorful natives made Dehzrehn feel much at home. Here, everyone appeared gruff and had their nose first into their business- the bustle hard work against the bright sunny sky. The buildings were much more different, a lot more squat and made of stone, and the people with far darker a complexion than those from the north.

He found himself studying them along his journey, packing up wagon's full of goods and preparing both him and his men for the journey inland. And just as it had been earlier, the travels were smooth.

That was, just until the day before he was due to arrive in Ketra.



It was late at night, the fire low and only a few men left on watch. Their party wasn't grand, but it was a substantial size of men- most of which were there to simply protect the cargo, an investment worth much. But this path was said the roughest the further south it dipped, most of the men kept their eyes open and on their backs until the trail began northward and they felt themselves more at ease. They were now in the heart of the Draconi forests, which held new dangers on its own.

Perhaps that was their first mistake. The second being they hadn't realized they weren't north enough to have shaken some hostility that had fallen them from the southern trail. It seemed these deeper woods, with taller, thicker ancient trees would be safe from bandits or surprise attacks,  even from animals. But that was for those who hadn't known how to take advantage of the native lands.


The attack came from the bushes, Dehzrehn had been in a dead sleep, having just turned in from his own night watch so he could be rested enough for the journey that morn. But an arrow to the leg was not the most comfortable thing to be feeling, and was not the wake up call he expected as he cried out in surprise and pain.


"We're under attack!!"

Chaos. With the fire nearly snuffed out and the moon over head drenched in a rolling thunder of clouds, there was no way to know specifically how many men had ambushed them or how many had already fallen. Dez scrambled to his pack, ignoring the pain jolting up his leg from the arrow before pulling out his sword and trying to assess just what was going on. His eyes were adjusting to the dark and he caught a glimpse of feathers and body paint...
Were these men from the southern tribes? Woah, he was taught they never traveled so far north!

Did it matter? They were seeking them dead! Dez barely dodged another arrow, unwittingly batting it away with his sword before he parried an on coming attack from a rather sharp spear, who was taken out moments later by one of the Connloathian men. Dez nodded his brief thanks before turning back into the fight. It was only then he noted they were being surrounded, men calling on horse back and racing around in circles.

He caught the sight of their bows and moved to grab his own from his pack. He didn't have time to think. His mind flashing back to his brief time in the war. To those times long ago when he and his brothers could laugh and take turns competing to see who was the best in archery....
Zahn and Dez would always be in the lead- and for the past few years...
A tie.
Zahn, Dez would tell himself, let him.

But then within minutes Dehzrehn had downed three men and was knocking another arrow to ready to down a fourth when from no where another spearmen returned and before he knew it, the spear was cutting across his chest.

The pain felt like a burst, clawing open clothe and skin alike. Dehzrehn dropped, taken off guard as he dropped his arrow and cupped his gushing wound. A dark figure moved overhead, like a shadow and Dez jerked his bow up with barely enough time to guard the attack that could have ended him.

That's when the woman appeared, moving in a blur of dancing,  deadly steps,  hands turning to what looked like long claws that ripped mercilessly at his attacker before she tore out it's throat. He wasn't even sure how it happened,  scrambling to his feet and gripping onto his wound. And when he was about to call out his thanks- the woman turned and continued her rage, tearing into the attackers and his own men alike! And it wasn't until she was halfway though with them did he realize she was also using her mouth to kill, razor sharp teeth tearing into all the men's flesh without abandon,  and screeching in a blood curdling war cry as she used brute strength to tear another man's arm clean off and clubbed another upside the head with it.

What..what the hell was happening? Within minutes almost all the men on either side were dead... and with a roaring snarl, the woman tire out the throat of another, using her wicked teeth and standing there, holding the man up by his throat as he gurgled to death on his blood, while cooling blood stained and dibbbled down from her mouth to chin, as she now turned her sights towards Dehzrehn and purred through drools of blood.

"You.. will be... mine. " The voice rasped and the woman began to charge, leaving the young Lord with little choice but to run deeper into the woods. The woman hissed, her chilling voice carrying, even through the dense wood.

"I saw your soul," it cooed,a purr laced with promise. "I will make you mine. "

He didn't stop running, he wouldn't. Even as his legs and lungs burned.  If the creature wanted him,it couldn't have been for any reasons better than what she did to his men and their enemies. And he didn't want to die.

But then the grounds changed suddenly, turning into a sudden marshy bog that sent Dehzrehn to the ground. Panicked,  he tried to scrambled to his feet,  only to feel the sudden weight of the woman upon him ,pinning him down with he golden eyes glowing with a lustful madness.

He was soaked and nearly sticking to the bog, the womans legs pinning him down strongly as she purred over his form.
"Northern magic.." she purred,  leaning down to lap a tongue down his neck. He involuntarily shivered from toes to his shoulders, grimacing when he realized his body shouldn't react so.. so.. drawn to her actions as fear and now a heat began to fight and clamor within his head.
"Northern blood...." Her hands slipped down,  wicked claws tracing down where she slowly began to expose his flesh. She lifted her head to his ear, wicked,  jagged and blood stained teeth nibbling against him near sensually.


"Northern life, " She added in a final purr, swiping a claw that ripped his shirt clean open before her fangs buried themselves into his neck, his eyes glazing over at the sensation as he began to feel something pull and suck from his body, too dazed himself to realize he was enjoying the sensations of this creature sucking out the purity of his life.  And both of their bodies began to glow like ghosts, and the Draconi forests shudder under the dark magics of this beast drinking away the life blood and magics of the man's very soul.

"You will be mine," the creature promised. And it began- he becoming hers.

[Imperfect_M]

Tag: @visualspice

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It is said among the various peoples living in and around the Draconi woodland: "The trees are spies." Whether that be superstition or a cautionary tale about bandits, who can say. But indeed, on many nights it can seem as if the woodland itself is aware, and that very trees and shrubbery hide secrets of their own. Secrets unknown to mortal kinds, secrets that the ancient woodlands keep. One such is the rumor that maybe, just maybe, the reason why any attempt to navigate the deeper forests always results in failure is: The trees do indeed move. The landmarks rearrange themselves; the woodland uproots and walks as if upon legs, and as they finish their dance they settle back into the earth; the woodland paths changed.

A superstition exists that the ancient Draconi forest holds spirits. Spirits of nature, ranging from harmless sprites to colossal walking trees that tend to the forest's health and safety. A spirit oft-talked about in both scholarly article and hushed whisper is the Dryad: A thing that is somehow both ethereally beautiful and terrifying to behold. People who claim to have seen them claim anything from an impossibly pretty woman, singing in a clearing to a ten-foot mountain of wood and bark, screeching and moving with impossible speed as it tears through anyone deemed a trespasser.

And trespassers there are aplenty in these haunted groves.

Dezrehn Draven lay fallen in a bog, stuck to the mud and at the mercy of a creature set on not just ending his life, but quite literally taking it from him. A woman turned to beasthood sank her teeth into his flesh, draining him of his very soul as foul magics filled the Connlaothan boy with a final rush of ecstasy before his last breath.

Those breaths were when he would hear it, almost like an echo in the back of his mind: A coquettish giggle, like that of a young woman teasing a lover. No, not one woman... A pair of women.

The night- for the briefest of moments- went completely still. No birds, no animals, not even the noise of insects. Then, suddenly, the very bog itself leapt to action in a storm and flurry of movement and fury.

The forest had found a trespasser.

Sedges and heaths sprung to life as leshies uprooted from the spongy ground and sprinted towards the woman sitting on top of Dez' injured form. While each was no bigger than a Human toddler, they were vicious creatures when roused to wrath and dangerous in numbers. Nearby sundews exploded into growth. They elongated long past what their growth would normally allow and tried to wrap their sticky tentacle-like stems around the life-stealing creature; they would hold it in place while the leshies went about their gruesome work.

More and more leshies made of sedge, moss, or heath jumped from the bog. They moved across the surface of water and spongy, peaty ground as if it were solid. This was, after all, their home ground.

Again Dez would hear that girlish, playful giggle. While perhaps the young man may have been the bait, the trap for his attacker had sprung.

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When the forest erupted I to life, creatures of all sorts taking their defensive stance, the she-demon hissed through a gurgle of blood before she was forced to removed her whole maw from his throat and swipe wicked claws at the nature beings.

No! How dare the foerests interrupt her feeding! She had hunted his blood for so long..form the seas, the mountains to the deeper wood...

The woman tossed her head back in a roar, jaw unhinging to open and yowl louder. Clawed fists swiped with agile fury at the creatures, cutting through some of the littler folk like they were stalks of wheat. The ghost like powers around her form were spiraling around her body, and as she moved away from the prey it appeared as if his ghostly magics writhing from his body were attached to hers and being pulled, but not quite pulled off their host.

But she didn't go far, wouldn't go far from her prey as she leaped around and fell back to his body in the bog, using brute force to knock any and all creature in her path before she finally made her way to Dehzrehn's still form that she now leapt upon possessively.

No! This northern mage was hers!

[Imperfect_M]

The more the demon moved, the more her bindings tightened.

Every time she broke free from the sticky embrace of a sundew, more and more took their place as she ducked and dove between the leshies. The sedge and heath leshies screeched and chortled mockingly as they continued to sprint over the bog to slash and whip wickedly at the creature. Grass and plant exploded and scattered to wind as she clove through the horde of forest spirits; yet it was if destroying their physical bodies did little more than inconvenience the spirit bound to it.

They hopped and climbed over Dezrehn; yet somehow even as they stood on top of him, to the Human they felt as light as birds, their little feet felt, but nothing more. On and on the horde of spirits charged, uncaring for how many of their number fell; for none among them truly had been destroyed, merely their bodies broken. The malevolent spirit within would simply form another one from sedge, heath, or moss.

Again Dez heard the giggling, this time just a little louder.

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The she demon let out a vicious roar, clawing and tearing ferociously at the nature spirits that continued to plight her,  steal from her as rage glowed ferociously within her golden eyes, that shined like a wicked desert sun, Dez's eyes glowing suddenly to match the woman, their ghostly connection still linked as the she demon groped claws through the masses and towards her charge.

Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.

A surge of power was pulled, yanked from the very life string,  siphoning from her captive, she calling from him the very essence of the earth that shielded him, grasping into the will of the rocks below and tearing them clear and free with raw force that it smashed the horde of naturlings upwards into the air and then smashed them to bits in a barreling heep of rocks as dense as mountains.

She would have preferred to cull his will on fire, but as she reached inside the man, inside his strength, his resolve, his being, it seemed earth magics were the easiest for him to tap.

But she didn't stop there, her body thrown across her possession, her mage, as she lapped eagerly at his blood fall and cast within him again, pulling at his ability to tame and draw upon the very waters around him, and the bog soon swelled, a gorging pool of water writhing around the pair in a whirl pooling shield.

And she dove teeth viciously back into her prizes neck to draw of this power, deeper and deeper still as the waters raised taller and wildly all around them.

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The leshies and little boglings continued their attack, even as body after body was smashed to pieces or torn apart by flurries of claws and teeth. They were simple creatures, defending their territory with prejudice and malevolent glee alike. They reveled in watching their prey fight against their never-ending tide. Even as they fell en-masse, the sundews piled on and the leshies surged forward in wave after sadistic wave. They drove the demon back, if only to a respectable distance.

The girlish, far-off giggling in Dez' ear approached. Silent, dainty feet stepped over water and moss in a trackless stride. Dez could hear them now, two girls speaking to one-another as they neared.

"It steals from the Human, sister," crooned one voice.

"Greedy little thing," growled the other.

The two voices sounded exactly identical, like one woman speaking to herself rather than two individuals.

"What do we do?" she asked playfully.

"Drown it in its own blood," came the snarling reply.

"Hmmm, temper temper."

They came into view now... Two ethereally beautiful creatures. Lithe and slender like willow trees, hair a dark green, leaves and flowers interwoven with those mossy locks. Their flesh was somehow both pale and not, the moonlight reflected off of them in hues of dancing gray and silver. Their angular faces and pointed ears made them out like Elfkind, but these were no Elves at all despite their ears and faces. These were Dryads.

One of them hopped on a toe in an all-too-graceful pirouette as she turned to lean over Dez' restrained form, the life from him being drained and his magic stolen from him, wielded by an unearthly creature in a sick display of might. Her mismatched eyes of green and autumnal red-yellow appraised him with a playful curiosity, her lips quirking into an almost childlike smile.

"He is injured."

"As he should be."

"What do we do?"

"Kill him!"

"Oooh, but he is no invader!"

The two Dryads carried their conversation as if ignoring the demon pummeling away at the tide of frenzied leshies. The one looming over him knelt and traced her finger over the sigils the demon had used to steal his life force and magic, even as the creature did not touch him.

"Such a soft one... So Human..." she crooned.

The Dryad leaned down and gently kissed the bitemark that the Demon had left in her initial attack. If one could not sever the connection by force, then merely replacing it would do. A surge of sudden vigor hit Dez like a battering ram. Despite his wounds, the young man suddenly would feel awake, alert, alive! Full of energy! Like he could take on the world!

Her sister, the other Dryad, furrowed her brow and clenched her fists as she squared her shoulders to the demon. A bloom of colorful flowers rapidly grew in a circle around Dez and the Dryad pair, water lotuses of every imaginable color. If the demon would attempt to cross it to battle the Dryads, she would find her path blocked as if an invisible barrier had been erected at the ring of flowers. It stubbornly barred her path as the gentler of the two Dryads sat upon the surface of the mossy peat bog and gingerly let Dez' head rest in her lap. She would steal the demon's connection to him, connecting Dez instead to herself. Dezrehn- for a moment at least- suddenly became aware of every stone, animal, and blade of grass in the bog's vicinity, as if he were connected to it. And from that connection he could feel it:

The bog itself had been roused to wrath.

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The world was shifting with pulls of colors, pulses of light and sweet purrs of pleasure. The echoes of the she demon whom latched to him like a parasite had her voice cooing in a bubble all within his mind, drowning out the chaotic surge of battle all around him. And during that time the young Lord Draven could barely speak, subtle moans drifting numbly from his lips as glazed over eyes seemed distant and so far away.

When she came for him again he arched into it terribly, internally sobbing in fear and pleasure. Her touch.. her pull...it sent such a thrill through him that dazzled his mind where he'd see and feel such ecstasy over pain.

Yes... such sweet temptation. Let her pull.. take him.. lull him...

And then the reverie was ripped apart, jerking him back into a sputter, this reality, screaming as the full weight of her pain, her drain upon him finally surged into his being, forcing him to jerk and arch and writhe beneath the dryads minstrations before breath return to him, blossoming full and anew as lips fell open to breath such sweet refreshing life.


And he saw her, in a moment if clarity, saw an angel of the woods,  such beauty not explained that he trembled beneath hee, hot with renewal, hot with pain and blistering with the wealthy knowledge of all the ancient earth . And for it, all the man could do was scream.

The she demon roared at their point of contact being severed as if with a knife. A clean disconnection had her Whirling and sputtering and yeowling in rage. And within herself she drew at a darkness that exploded from her form, a pummeling darkness from outstretched claws that craved sweet distruction and chaos for her revenge.

They would not take her prey! Her northern bred mage.

"Mine!!"

[Imperfect_M]

Crushing, oppressive darkness blotted out the moonlight. A wave of it surged forward as a roiling, inky black fog. It crushed or withered the leshies caught in its face, and only was it then that the little spirits retreated away from it. They burrowed back under the spongy ground or dove into the muddy water to hide or protect themselves from the oncoming destruction. That tide of darkness struck the ring of colorful lotuses and broke like a wave striking a stone, but that shield of verdant life stubbornly held fast as the Dryad holding it exerted her effort.

Dez screamed, and the Dryad so gently cradling him placed a finger over his lips as if to shush the young man. The woman whispered soft, crooning words to him in a tongue not understood by mortalkinds; each syllable like that of a gentle melody carried by the wind, or the soothing pitter-patter of rainfall in the trees. These were not words that were not so much heard as they were felt, and they carried with them a feeling of peace and safety.

But, as it was, they were still in danger. There was a demon trespasser to kill. The gentler Dryad gave Dezrehn a final caress before letting him rest on the mossy, soggy earth. She stood to join her sister. Standing side-by-side, they appeared like a matched set or an identical pair.

"Together."

"As one."

In the blink of an eye, bark and wood replaced supple flesh. What could have been mistaken for Elves changed before Dezrehn's eyes to two monstrosities of the deep forest; two exemplars of the ancient woodland's fury, hauntingly beautiful yet terrifying to behold. Dez could feel their strength through his connection with them; the women he saw were not inside monstrous armor of wood and bark, they were those ethereal, beautiful, deadly creatures.

The circle of blossoms glowed with verdant light. They exploded in a blast of colors and a shower of petals, pushing away that crushing darkness with their own counterforce. The Dryads charged the demon with inhuman grace and speed, their wicked claws scything up, down, and over in a torrent of wrath. They moved in such perfect unison; the demon was not fighting two opponents, she was fighting one with two bodies.

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Seeing the lesser beings retreat was reward enough, but the guarding wall of force protecting her prey was unyielding, no matter how much she clawed and fought and scraped. And then the twin dryads turned their wrath solely upon her.

The battle would be brief, her claws and fangs extending to wickedly strike. But she knew she couldn't hold her own. Not here. Not in their domain. So she retreated with a hissed, her body seeming to melt onto the treeline shadows before she was just...

gone.

[Imperfect_M]

With the demon gone and the danger seemingly passed, the spirits of the woodlands returned to their haunts and their homes. Leshies sank into the spongy ground or returned to their place in the water, the sundews- having grown long and giant in their aggression- shrank back to their previous, insect-catching size.

Bark and wood popped and shifted as the Dryads' more monstrous forms returned to their gentler, fairer appearances. Again they stood over Dez, and again did the kinder of the two let him rest his weary head in her lap.

"Where are his kin?" growled the other Dryad.

"Dead. Or scattered by the trespasser."

"Have him join them!"

"Shush! I would see this one hale and whole."

They seemed to be in disagreement over what to do with him, wounded as he was. But while one wanted him dead, the other was set on restoring him to health. The threat had gone, and the bog illuminated the moonlight over its heath and sedge. What was once a choking mire felt... Comfortable, now, to Dezrehn. Less like a beast about to swallow him whole and more like a family member, embracing him after a long journey.

"Tell us, Child of Men," softly asked the gentler Dryad. "Why do you come here?"

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It was an odd sensation,  to be so aware and intune with the world around him. Especially as things settled,  his heart beat slowing and he found himself enthralled by the hypersensations all around him-he being suddenly so aware of all the bugs that crawled through the swamps,  the logs, the trees And flitted in the humid night air.

He was aware that a pair of owls perched so closely,  and atkeast a dozen mice scampered near, and two dozen rats and muskrats and bats and hedgehogs lurked near and deep within the heart of it all so many more creatures stirred or slept. It was awesome. It was surreal. And it was just so much to take in this new awareness that he nearly missed what the dryad had asked. There was silence,  and a small bug seemed to urge him towards the woman whose lap he lay.

He turned to her and froze, lips parting in awe, voice gone as her sheer beauty and serenity and all together otherworldliness captivated him into forgetting how to speak. Such an alien look to him beyond simply exotic left him with little else to think or say, as he was more than keenly aware of his attraction to her- he felt... connected, almost motherly in turn, but his natural affinity for herseemed to nearly over rule them all. And he felt hi mself needing to know and experience more.

But then his cheeks heated as his morals objected and kept him in line, atleast from saying or doing anything extremely stupid in the dryads presence.  And he recalled what they.. she... asked him and his brows furrowed as he closed his mouth, and licked at his dry lips before saying softly, carefully..
"Ketra. I.. I was t-traveling to trade. In... " he licked his lips again and froze at the site of her twin.  And a chill shivered down his spine. ",.. in Ketra " he repeated,  voice now careful and barely above a whisper.

[Imperfect_M]

Dezrehn could feel not just the Dryad speaking with him, but her sister as well. If he would let himself experience and really feel the world of that nature around him, he would realize quickly that beside the feeling of comfort and safety that it brought was a subtle, everburning desire to destroy any trespassers that dare step foot in Nature's domain.

Gentleness and brutality.

Peace and wrath.

Two pieces moving as one; for they cannot exist without each other.

The gentler Dryad listened to his explanation.

"Ketra," she imitated. "We know this place."

"It is a mockery," grumbled the other Dryad, pouting with disdain.

"It is an artifice," argued her kneeling sister.

The Dryad gently ran slender, dainty fingers over and through Dezrehn's curly, ebon locks. For a creature that just a moment ago personified the unrelenting rage of the forest, she had a very gentle touch, and a comforting one at that.

"Your people are gone now," the Dryad told him.

"You are alone, with naught else to trade but your life," said the other.

"Where will you go?" they asked in unison.

Both sets of eyes lay their gaze firmly upon Dezrehn, awaiting his answer. The one way to tell the Dryads apart become obvious now: They both possessed a mismatched set of eyes; one of deep green hues and the other a dance of autumn red and yellow. The gentler of the twins had her autumn eye on her right, while the less agreeable twin had hers on her left.

[visualspice]

His connection left him dazed, and whatever affects the demon has over him had certainly not helped. Being torn between two powers, while at some point having his own nearly taken away,  left him in a disputed state between shock and awe.

The fact he could feel so much was over loading his senses that he almost got distracted by what the dryads asked of him now.

His eyes looked hazed, dizzy as he stared between the pair and shook his head, replying in earnest,  "I..I don't know." Abd slowly he sat up, neck straining to look towards the tops iof the great canopy of trees, then around him, to the forests, the tall grasses of the marshes then back towards the pair of sisters.  He studied them again, such unique beauties before he told them, softly, "Thank you."

[Imperfect_M]

The two Dryads nodded in unison in response to Dezrehn's gratitude, as if it were a single motion. She gentler one stood and took her place beside her sister.

"He does not know," mused one.

"Beset by indecision," commented the other.

"His world and known life taken from him-"

"-to be thrown headfirst into another."

"Do we take him to his people?"

"Better to let the water eat him."

"Truly are you terrible."

"Wrath justly deserved and freely given."

"But he is no enemy of ours."

The more violent between the twins gazed at her sister ponderously. She rolled her eyes and sighed in assent after a long, tense moment.

"Very well."

The Twins turned to Dezrehn. The young man was sitting up and admiring this near-untouched place. The two of them viewed him with as much wonder and curiosity as he with them. The gentler Dryad- in a motion reminiscent of falling water, knelt cozied up against Dezrehn; her comforting warmth blunting some of the strain on his senses.

"It is decided-," she coquettishly said, her cheek pressed up against Dezrehn's own.

"-That you go to one better suited to receive you," the grumpier Dryad finished, disdain in her tone.

"But this will not be the last time we meet!"

"We shall meet again."

The grumpier Dryad approached Dezrehn, and the gentler spun to her feet in a fluid pirouette before him. They offered each one hand to the young man to help him to his feet.

"Stand, Child of Man," they ordered in unison.

[visualspice]

Dehzrehn wasn't sure how to feel about their interaction,  a part of it unnerving, especially how the one dryad so casually spoke of his demise. It seemed they were bickering, not unlike he and his siblings. Remembering his family was sobering.

Then they offered out their hands to which he stared at for a time before placing a hand into each of theirs and using that momentum to help himself stand.

[Imperfect_M]

The two Dryads nodded in unison in response to Dezrehn's gratitude, as if it were a single motion. She gentler one stood and took her place beside her sister.

"He does not know," mused one.

"Beset by indecision," commented the other.

"His world and known life taken from him-"

"-to be thrown headfirst into another."

"Do we take him to the little mage?"

"A mage, like himself, but secure in her craft."

"Confident in her work."

Their conversation continued for a few moments longer. It sounded less like two people speaking to one-another and found more in common with a single person speaking to themself as if to process their own thoughts. Whatever conclusion the Twin Dryads came to, they paced around Dezrehn, both perfectly opposite each other as they circled.

"It is decided," chirped the friendly one.

"He goes to the little mage," flatly stated the other.

The Dryads stood aside one-another before Dezrehn and again each offered one hand to him, mirroring each other in their gestures.

"Come, Child of Man," they said in unison. "We shall give you safe passage."

Their grip felt so tender and so gentle, skin of an alien smoothness, as if attempting to grapple them would be simply impossible. Yet despite their gentle touch, so too did the twins have a predatory, feline grace to them. Movements too smooth to be Human, too graceful and too fluid, as if even the simplest of gestures was practiced with the same intensity as a dance movement.

They giggled, one high and childlike and the other low and husky. Suddenly they pulled Dezrehn into an embrace, sandwiching him between them as they fell sideward and him an unwitting victim. Yet what would have been striking the cold, soggy ground was replaced with the sensation of falling into a pool of clear, refreshing water. The world rapidly disappeared beneath darkness and wave as Dezrehn felt... Weightless.

A moment, however brief, stretched into an eternity. Time ceased to matter in that endless, yawning gap. As if he had fallen into a lightless sinkhole, trapped between two delicate yet inhumanely powerful forms. As time ceased to matter, so too did the breath. The urgency to breathe was forgotten beneath that soothing, ever-expanding pool as Dezrehn and the Dryads sank ever-deeper.

The Dryad he was facing, the gentler and arguably more agreeable of the two, faced him with a comforting smile on her features. Hair and vine and flower and leaf slowly drifted weightlessly around her head like a halo or a crown placed by the nature itself. That smile carried a message of safety, a message of relief. Dezrehn may have been immobilized, but he was in no danger here.

The twins giggled coquettishly as they drifted, taking great amusement in seeing and holding Dezrehn with them in their wanderings through this strange, otherworldly space.

A lightly slowly formed beneath them, little more than a vague speck on an endlessly far-off horizon. But it approached, slowly brightening and illuminating this World Beneath the Waves. Vague shapes and landscapes danced in the low light, just out of the eye's reach. They could have been anything; silhouettes of animals, fish, trees, even mountains, none of it was clear enough to be called with surety.

Again they turned, as if rotating along the sideward edge of a giant wheel. Light gave way to sound, and sound gave way to shape. Shape became feeling, and feeling became time. With a blink, Dezrehn and the two Dryads were standing amidst a different part of the woods. A coastal breeze rustled the leaves and carried the scent of the sea with it. The air was just a little colder; perhaps they had moved farther north.

"We have arrived, Child of Man," the Dryads said together as they released Dezrehn. "Here you will find a woman, her name Leann, if you follow this path that shall lead you eastward."

"Tell her that we bade you forth," the friendly one said.

"And that we demand this be her repayment to us," the other one finished in a deadpan.

"We shall meet again, Child of Man," they said together.

As Dezrehn blinked, they would simply have... Vanished. Gone, as if disappeared into the very wind itself.