Fragments of Time

[Lion]

Ghanon peered through the spheres as mirrors made their way before his vision.  Sometimes it was not easy navigating through these mirrors, even if he had learned to do so for time immemorial.  He saw reflections of those whom had been keeping an eye on, those that he'd influenced or had some part in their existence, no matter how vague or fabricated.  The things he'd done, that which he'd seen.  He would never bring himself to forget, but nor could he bring himself to blame.

It had been a strange and unusually long month in the north and Ghanon lingered for reasons he did not know.  There was something peculiar in the air, beckoning and he knew he could not waste any opportunity with which to find her.  He was somewhat desperate, somewhat fascinated with the way this woodland formed and though he could teleport anywhere he pleased, no matter where or when it was.  He knew he was risking much by finding Lana, and he knew that he could not stretch the patience of the one who held the dreamshard.  If he found out about it...how to use it—No!  He could not think about that.

Already the stress of finding Lana had been one worry to focus on, he did not need to further intensify the odds already against him.  Ghanon knew the Fallen Prince was not one to be trifled with and while he did not fear him in the sense that he, himself, might be hurt, one could feel the power surging through the darkened man and without a doubt he had cunning.  The power had come from that sword of his, or at least he sensed a crippling dependency on the blade.  Like it was a gift and a curse.  Demonblades were nothing to sneer at, however, Ghanon feared the man backing out of the agreement more than the sword.

Ghanon materialized out of thin air along the road he'd seen Lana travel along when he'd found the right mirror and viewed her like the visions that plagued him constantly.  The snowfall had melted away with the dawn and he remained crouched on the ground, a deep wound on his side that had been a little taste of that blade of Arcan's that he called Azaghal.  It was not pleasant...and nor was it often that any physical weapon could bring him harm, but it was possible.

While he was of the flesh, he was still vulnerable like flesh, though just considerably less so.

Of all people, he could only hope that Lana could help him.  The wound was larger than he thought and growing larger still if he could get to her in time.  He did not have the strength to fly and found himself walking steadily until his feet could only stagger like those drunken first steps out of the Canary Rose.

His vision was blurry for the blade had been strong, and he viewed the shape on the road coming toward him, hoping, only hoping that it was the one that he sought.  He knew she owed him nothing.  But it was not often the Astralwalker ran to a goddess for aid.  But the pain had been primarily suppressed until now and he felt his body become limp along the roadside, collapsing from exhaustion, whispering, "Lana."

[Anonymous]

The street had been bustling with the midday rush making his appearance difficult to discern at best.  It had been several weeks since their last emotional encounter, but even in that short time much had changed.  In order to blend in with the town folk Lana had taken up the task of making a living for herself, something entirely foreign to her.  It seemed that the most basic style of life there required that you have a trade.  For her, it was healing.  However, in order to avoid the direct display of her abilities to the patients that she saw, she put them under a sedating spell to cause them to be unaware as she utilized her 'gifts' of herbal remedies and enchanted liquids.  No one was the wiser, the people who did feel comfortable enough to come to her for care being willing to accept a measure of superstition in her work.  No one could say exactly how she achieved such permanent, almost immediate results, but she was on par with the fortune teller just blocks away.

Lana had made enough coin to purchase a small room at an inn, though at any time, as often she did, she could fabricate more earnings as she needed.  She was careful to only see a few patients a day and to choose only the cases that were not too extreme, save for certain desperate occasions.  It pained her to have to pick and choose whose illnesses would be cured and who would have to suffer, but it was necessary to not draw too much attention to herself.  

She had just been 'prescribing' an herbal tea in combination with eight shriveled Erdolyn berries, although her patient, having suffered from intense headaches, had been touched by Lana's magic and unknowingly would recover with or without the 'prescription' in just a day or so.  They would, however, likely find themselves a fan of the dehydrated snack.  As the older woman departed gratefully from Lana's small apartment, there was a pause allowing Lana to clean up the area before two young boys came rushing in with a familiar looking wanderer supported over their small shoulders, and a little girl in tow.  They looked incredibly disturbed, and though they had not heard him whisper her forbidden name, they had immediately thought to bring the wounded stranger to her care.  Lana seemed a bit alarmed at first, especially to see Ghanon in such an exposed and distressing state, but kept her composure, ushering the talkative and concerned boys out the door with the younger girl.  Lana had helped them lay Ghanon on her tiny, grey bed and she quickly locked the door behind the children and took a deep breath.

After a moment's contemplation staring over Ghanon's form she regained herself and approached the bed in the manner of a good nurse.  The blood was leaving him rapidly from an ever gaping wound that seemed to be rapidly growing wider.  It wasn't an ordinary laceration.  The flesh around the stab wound was a sickly green with occasional blotches of purple bruising, signs that his flesh around it was slowly dying.  A dark magic had been responsible for this, and she was suddenly struck with the worry that she might not be able to counteract it.  With wide eyes she silently set to work first removing the blood soaked clothing from the gash.

[Lion]

Ghanon was not accustomed to being dragged along the road like some pest that was crushed by wagon wheels.  He was in an out of consciousness and he felt as if his form was about to return to the astral plane.  With whatever will remained in him, Ghanon forced his body to remain physical rather than fading like the shadow of a ghost on the road.  He didn't know where he was or how fast he was going or if he was going to reach the one he hoped to find at all.

Ghanon clung to his every breath even as the wound along his side hurt him desperately and he labored for breath, even if he didn't need to breathe.  A mortal form was sometimes just an all too physical form.  And the blade had cut him deeply, a show of Arcan demonstrating just what he might do in the event that Ghanon did not uphold his end of the bargain.  But he had all his own reasons to do it that were motivation enough.  The dreamshards were not exactly that which could be so easily understood.  Not even he, with all his gifts, could fully comprehend them.  But it was in his mind that it was better that he than anyone else.

Ghanon opened his eyes slightly and recognized that his surroundings had changed...and it was not by his doing.  Someone had moved him, or someones.  Ghanon did not care which.  The place was not out in the open and certainly had an air of a room at an inn.  Ghanon's eyes fluttered open and he saw something familiar standing before him.  His wound still ate away at the flesh, like a disease of perpetual rot.  Azaghal was not something he would like to come into contact with on a regular basis but at least now, he knew what that godless weapon was capable of.

A breath sunk in and his vision blurred as he felt the bloody clothing being removed.  His garments were as much a part of him as he was a part of them, but they were still clothes all the same.  The felt like cloth and his garb was gradually pulled away from where his wound was and he let himself be moved like a doll at the whim of this person who would either harm him or heal him.  Again...he did not much care for which.

Eventually his sight cleared and he peered at her with sullen eyes, and he found he could barely speak sans for one sentence that came slowly, slightly weakened.  "Is that you, Lana?" he asked.

[Anonymous]

Though he spoke to her, and though anyone with a spirit of compassion might try to immediately comfort him, caught up in the joy that he was responsive, Lana did not.  In fact, she purposely ignored him.  It was her intent to address his decaying flesh and then, sedate him, and in his delirium send him on his way.  She wouldn't let harm come to him, of course, but she also couldn't let harm come to herself.  It had been such a short amount of time since their last meeting together, and she hadn't fully prepared to again dive into their impassioned, confusing friendship.  Again, it wasn't that she didn't want to see him, or that she hadn't dreamt of him once or twice during their parting, but there was something foreboding about him and she was not willing to submit to it just yet.

Not even her eyes met his.  She knew who he was, but if he could leave there without knowing who she was then all of her concerns would be addressed.  Lana had peeled away what was left of the soaked cloth, and now stood a moment in awe of how obviously tainted the wound was.  It emanated a power that was demonic.  If it were very powerful, she would be putting herself at some risk by healing it.  However, it wasn't enough risk to dissuade her.  She knew Ghanon was in immense pain, and she knew that shifters of any kind were often more aware of it than most others who were bound to their bodies.  

In order to heal this wound, she would have to remove the dark magic with it.  But if she were to heal alone, with no where for it to transfer, she would take it in herself.  It was inevitable that she would have to absorb some, and if it weren't for the dark jewel that had been implanted in her flesh, she would have felt the toxicity in her own body.  She turned away, and for a moment played with the small serpent pendant that had remained faithfully at her chest during the last month.  It was small, but the stone had been fashioned from the very volcanic ash of their hell, and the power of her King had been so grand and deeply imbued with darkness that even the tiniest trinket of his would be more than tolerant of the simple black magic she saw here.  It was an emotional sacrifice, but the pendant would not be marred.

She returned to the bedside with the knowledge that time was of the essence.  Snapping the pendant away from her neck she pulled the small orb from its chain and dropped it into the center of the gaping wound.  She then placed her hands on either side of the gash and began to heal.  The orb remained between the mounds of inflamed flesh in full form, but as the flesh began to drift toward itself to close the opening, the orb slowly melted into a liquid substance almost exactly like molten metal.  It seeped into the bloody flesh, absorbing into it, and soon, the black and red soup could not longer be seen as the wound finally closed itself.  

Lana pulled her hands away from his side and opened one of them to reveal the pendant in its full form, sitting atop her palm.  She refastened the necklace and looked with interest at the scar that had been left.  Her face was flushed from the tingling magic that coursed through her body toward the originally dim starred jewel that now flickered a thunder blue, and her eyes followed the serpentine scar that followed the exact length of the stab wound.  But only a moment was needed to take in the sight, and she turned away again to her small wooden table to begin to mix a mild sedative for him.

[Lion]

It pained him more to will himself to remain, than to endure the wound.  As it ate away like a remnants of flame turning a sheet of paper to ash, Ghanon kept his eyes locked on the ceiling.  Not even this stranger could hold his interest and his sight seemed to peer through his immediate surroundings.  The silver of his eyes glowed and appeared glazed over, and tears threatened to breach the ramparts of his lids, but he blinked them away and his eyes burned for it.

He saw not the wooden ceiling and rafters, and peered through it to the sky of this plane, and viewed the sun without the sting of the rays, and he felt the burn of solar winds scathing along his skin, and there was the beckoning vacuum of galactic holes that summoned relentlessly, and the cores of stars that could no longer contain their dwarfism and exploded along each other, and the vastness of bright-eyed valleys that proved to be a swirling blur if you stood still long enough and he saw the ethereal faces of deities that haunted him, hounded him, and hunted him.

In his agony, Ghanon refused to cry out on the contact of another along the wound the delirium set in that familiar fear that he sought to shove away like an acid bath.  There was never a stagnant nature or definition of magic and it was more than obvious that the blade that struck him was capable of far more ravaging attacks and he felt the soul of his form burn away like his skin.  Magic took on so many different incarnations that even the corrupted sorcery that coursed through him was paining him as another magic took it upon itself to close the wound.  It was said the Abyss provided the same feeling to the souls of the damned that swam down into the whirlwind of terror.  He knew that that he'd be cast down there to spend forever punished for his wrong-doings.  But he couldn't let them catch him, not yet.

This person near him, whoever they were, they had dripped of the astral aura, much like he did.  But hers....yes, hers, was far more pronounced.  Ghanon did not think to know if this was she that he sought, but immediately his heart jumped into his throat and the fear clasped onto him and he could not remain still after the wound had long since been healed.  He immediately moved and leapt back violently and opened his eyes full tilt, eyes that were reddened with anger and alarm and he sat up and far away from her as possible.  "Get away from me!" he lashed out, seething and clutched the cloth underneath him with white knuckles.

He was mad from the pain that still lingered through the wound had closed up.  He looked over at Lana, not recognizing that it was she that he had called for in the first place.  "What have you done to me?"

[Anonymous]

Lana was calm to his reaction, continuing to stir scalding liquid with a powerful herb.  She finished her task and removed the wilted leaves from the wooden cup and turned to him with a serene expression.  She set the cup beside the bed on a small stool she had used for a table.  Extravagance was not a luxury she afforded herself.  Extravagance was deserving of a Queen, and a Queen she no longer was.  Whatever she could manage with she would as no one place would be called 'home'.  She smirked at his alarmed interrogation.

Pulling a chair over from the table which served her many tasks, she set her elbows on her knees, folding her small hands and peering at him.

"I am she who has just saved your life." She reached over and picked up a leaf from one of the many bowls of various picked plant life that sat atop the table, and bit off the tip of it. "And I have done exactly that."

Her eyes glowed in his presence, the extension of her energy and the absorption of his was intoxicating.  She was feeling a high from the ordeal, one she wasn't used to, and it was causing her heart to palpitate furiously.

[Lion]

Ghanon remained alarmed, though his senses began to dim more than usual and he still peered at her though wary, narrow eyes as if she was just about to put some strange curse on him, or as if she used him violently.  He was accustomed to being a object where and when needed, but not when he was not conscious of his own decisions.  It was one thing to be an object and quite another to be a guinea pig.

He clutched at his side, were his bloodied clothing had been removed and watched the scar that snaked up it.  The cut had been deep and for some reason he winced as if he still felt it burning through him.  He scrunched his face up in irritation and looked at her, like a cornered animal that was gradually coming to his senses.

"Saved my life?" he echoed in inquiry.  He did not tell her that the wound, though threatening and painful, would more than likely wouldn't have killed him.  Death for a being like him was not a simple thing and he was more than sure it was beyond his grasp.  Ghanon sighed and pulled his legs close to him, almost protectively, as if still very much threatened by her presence.  There was a strange look in her eye that he hadn't seen before.

"How...." He cleared his throat. "How did I end up here?"

[Anonymous]

Lana wasn't certain if he recognized her yet, but it didn't matter.  One way or another, he would have to leave soon.  She slipped the leaf between her lips and sucked at the sweet moisture that flowed from the damaged end.  It was the same herb that she had made the sedative from, however the calming effect of just one leaf would only help settle her heart.  She stretched her legs from beneath her to rest her feet on the edge of the bed across from her.  

"You simply did."  She continued to enjoy her drug of choice and seemed rather preoccupied by it, "That's all that matters, isn't it?  That you're safe, that it's quiet, and that you're no longer bleeding profusely."

Her eyes glanced toward the cup she had set on the stool.

"Tea?"

[Lion]

Ghanon did not dare speak her name and rubbed away the fogginess of his gaze.  He relaxed physically and sat with his legs off the bed right next to her.  He still clutched his side, sighing before looking up at her and letting a thin, wry grin spread on his lips.  He didn't expect to find her in a place like this.  Even with only knowing her for a month she seemed so much the wanderer that he did not think that she would stay at an inn.  It seemed she'd been here for a short while.

She offered him tea and he might have been inclined to refuse her but a drink would be just what he needed right now, any kind would do.  "Yes, please," he said politely and looked at her with a tilted gaze.

"I didn't know you would be settled," he commented idly.  "But you're going to leave soon aren't you?"

[Anonymous]

Settled.  She laughed a little at the idea.

"Your tea is next to you." There was a glint of mischief in her eyes since she knew that the tea would relax him to a point of delirium, or so she hoped.

Even now she found it incredibly hard to sit still.  So, she stood with intentions to sort the plethora of colored stones she had collected and grinded down to a polish.  They were each elemental with the potential for aid in magic.  Now that she was exiled and so far from her world, her magic, though preserved, had been unfortunately dampened by the loss of connection.  Any small thing that would simulate this communion would give her an advantage.

"I hardly consider this settled.  It is a place where I can feel a little safe in the meantime.  That's all."  She poured herself her own tea, however, a different kind, and leaned against the table blowing on the surface of the hot water, then took a sip, "I am leaving soon, yes."

[Lion]

Ghanon was feeling restored now but he did not reach for the tea just yet.  The sorcery that flowed in him coursed like poison and made him feel gradually renewed.  He did grasp the tea before it got cold and sniffed the tea before taking a sip for himself.  It tasted like boiled herbs, but not just herbs for healing.  Ghanon quivered at the taste of it but set it aside soon enough.

A need to feel safe.  Her choice of words were curious to him and he savored them for a short time before reaching out to his bloodied clothes.  His hand waved ever so slightly before they shimmered like water and soon returned to a state of mended normalcy.  The scar on his flesh however would remain until that too healed with time.  He slipped on his shirt and took a glance at her with solemn eyes.

"You need to feel safe?  What ever happened to your wolf companion?  You know I never did catch his name."  Ghanon put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her softly.  "You've been hiding from something?  Hiding from me?"

[Anonymous]

There was a slight joy that leapt through her as he took a drink of the 'tea'.  It would only heavily relax him, if it worked properly on an immortal, but she couldn't be sure.  She had only worked with mortals a short while and her own resistance to it told her that the blood of an eternal would likely require a magical additive, which she could supply.  However, she wouldn't if it wasn't needed.  He looked as if he felt sorry for her.  She didn't like it.  But his touch was kind and familiar, a dangerous familiar, and she gave in to the wave of delight that quickly passed through her.  

A twinge of sadness twisted at her heart as he mentioned Canis.  Yes, Canis was gone.  And yes, it had been necessary.  But that didn't negate the feeling of loss that it had caused.  Still, her face was emotionless as she responded, guarded.

"Yes, Canis..." She nodded, "He is undyingly loyal, but I released him.  His service to me, though wholesomely motivated, was however still motivated by his memory of me in my former glory.  And there is no road to future glory for me, and so it didn't seem right to keep him from a lifetime of possibilities when I can easily watch after myself."

And now, to address Ghanon's next inquiry.  It actually greatly amused her that he thought she might be taking pains to keep him away from her.  His arrogance, however ignorant of it he might be, was always quite silly.

"Perhaps I used the wrong word...  By safe, I mean enclosed, sheltered.  I don't feel that from sleeping in the fields where no simple comforts can be found.  And certainly, there's no need to flatter yourself." She smiled and patted his hand, "I wouldn't dare try hiding from  you."

[Lion]

Ghanon could hide his amusement and he really didn't want to hide it either.  As clear as day he chuckled and smiled at her a grin of genuine kindness, one that was not often seen on the face of the shifter such as he.  "You do me too much honor.  Please don't.  But thank you nonetheless for attempting to see a stroke of my own ego," he said with clear humor and took his hand away from his side.

So this is where she'd been all this time and her companion had been excused.  There was a small wish he could have gotten to know the wolf creature better, but there was always time for that and he didn't want to linger on tragic feelings, not now that he'd just met his old acquaintance for another time, perhaps even for the last time.

Ghanon looked at her and he found that his eyes had been smiling, not something that was common either.  "I meant only that I was worried about you," he said genuinely, even to his own vague surprise.  "I'm sorry for not making much of an effort to contact you through the pendant.  But worry is half-hearted from a long-distance summons, isn't it.  How have you been?"

[Anonymous]

That he even apologized for something she had thought they mutually understood was not expected was peculiar to her.  The pendant he had given her, she thought, had been a spontaneous act of emotion rather than truth, and she had expected it to remain a mere trinket.  Using it as a means to communicate, though he had specified that was his intent, did not occur to her.  In fact, she could have apologized for becoming so aloof herself.  But she didn't feel remorseful that she hadn't spoken to him.  His reaction now was most likely due to the recent ordeal he had endured, and she knew better than to believe it was more than that.  

She humored him, however, and gave him a grateful smile after taking another sip of her tea, "I have been as I have been.  Roaming, discovering, and fashioning a new existence for myself."

There was no reason to go into further detail.  It was obvious he was hoping to gain more from their meeting than she was willing to give, and she was ignorant to the fact that he had  come intentionally to find her.  The happenstance that he arrived the way he did was still just that in her mind, a coincidence.  

She rose from her chair and set the tea aside, then pulled a dagger from one of the stuck drawers of her table and slipped it into the side of one of her knee-high boots.  She was wearing the outfit she had worn the last time they saw each other, only now her feet were hardly bare.  She had needed something sturdy and handy in case of trouble or long travel, and they served her well.  

"As much as I am delighted to see you," her voice was filled with less gravity than her words, "I am taking off very soon.  In fact, you found me at a very inopportune time.  I am about to be on my way."

[Lion]

It may have been an accident it may have been not.  Ghanon knew better than anyone that it was a naïve thing to believe.  Experience taught him that there were no accidents and that everything happened for a purpose, even if said purpose was initially inexplicable and purposefully mysterious.  Ghanon did not intend for him to be dragged along the road like the dog he was, or taken to see her so quickly.  But it could be argued that perhaps he'd foreseen that he would all along.  For even those that knew Ghanon, they could not always know what lingered on his mind, or what he might do next.

Ghanon did not like that she was about to be leaving just as he was recovering from his wound, but he understood her for doing so.  There was no blame there and he too was ready to leave as well.  He grabbed his robe jacket and with a quiver the cloak shimmered over his form.  He did not drink the rest of the tea.  There was something from it that he felt flow through his body that, while refreshing, he was not familiar with.

His hands buttoned the second button from his jacket and let the top flap off as it usually was.  He saw that she was wearing shoes now.  And it seemed she'd found fortune enough to find them.  The dagger was fortune as well.  He grinned at her, amused and his eyes were glittering as he looked at her.  She truly was a thing of beauty now that he thought about it.  Sometimes beauty was more than skin deep.

His hands fiddled the silver bracers on his arms which gleamed and reflected with strange glyphs, runes of another world, in the dim, flickering candle light.

"Perhaps," he began softly.  "It is not as inopportune as you say.  You are leaving...and so am I.  Perhaps where you are headed, I shall be too.  Would it be too bold to ask if I may travel with you?  And...if you would do me the kindness of accepting my company."

[Anonymous]

It was good timing that Lana had turned away when he offered his company during her travels.  She was not thrilled at the prospect, though touched.  She wasn't sure what to glean from his attentiveness to her other than he was possibly a bit lonely.  It was understandable, if he was, though he didn't seem the kind to let such emotion overcome him, or even truly feel it.  He had been such a lone wolf, from what she had come to know of him, that it would be hard to imagine him afflicted with the feeling of being lonely.  What else could he want of her, then? She wondered....  Nonetheless, he had just been severely wounded, and she hadn't even had the care to ask him what happened.

"If you happen to be traveling in the direction of Hyoite..." she slowly replied, her movements more languid now that she was in the midst of thinking, and she continued to load her boots up with the necessary weaponry, "Then I might not be able to refuse."

Lana pulled her mass of curls up away from her neck and tied it so.  

"But take care not to slow me down."

She smirked.

[Lion]

Ghanon had kept his eyes to the ground and let them linger on her legs as he watched her arm herself as much as her boots could store.  He honestly questioned just how many daggers she was going to stuff in there but they looked like they were holding together pretty well.  He wasn't going to question her decisions, not right now.  Ghanon smirked back when she looked at him and suddenly he recalled something that hadn't thought about in over a month.

"Lana," he said quietly.  "Remember that room you paid for back at the inn.  The one that you never used?  I don't know if it matters at all, but I couldn't help but think of the, well, pointless way in which you lost your money."  A hand reached into his jacket and he produced a coinpurse, a small one and of just the right weight that she had spent.  It was only prudent that he return it to her.  He handed it over, unsure it mattered anymore, but decided the gesture was worth it nonetheless.

"I'll do my best not to slow you down, darling.  So tell me, would you prefer to travel the old fashioned way?  Or my way?"

[Anonymous]

She ran her hands over figure to dust herself off as he spoke.  The Inn hadn't come to her mind either, mainly because the money she had spent was easily reproduced with magic.  The earning of money was more of a way to feel normal, and more importantly to appear normal.  It was inconvenient to have to hide her magical skill, but she couldn't be sure how others would respond, and being noticed by the civilians she lived near was the last thing she desired.

Though the money was inconsequential, she accepted it and smiled, holding his hand for a moment in goodwill, "Thank you.  I had let it slip from my mind."

She pocketed the coins and looked back at him inquisitively, "I'm assuming your way is quicker?"

[Lion]

Devious bastards took what they wanted in any which way they could, never offering a kind gesture or instance of goodwill, even if it was more prudent to do so.  Ghanon wondered what she saw him as, for it was more than obvious with the way he looked at her that she could sense his own deviousness, but even if he had no intentions to directly harm her, he knew that she would be no more a tool to him, as everyone was.  When he looked at her now, beautiful as she ever was, he saw not the goddess he first met in a small town market, dressed like a fool and acting as one.

He had played his part and she had as well, yet here they were now, wanderers crossing paths again that was more than coincidence.  He wondered if she was wise to his habits, as she'd gotten a taste of his character before.  Ghanon was always a hard one to predict, his loyalties were his own and even if he'd let her go before, and watched over her through her pendant, he knew he'd have to play his hand well if he was going to keep her around.  She would bolt, no doubt, at the first hint of danger.

Ghanon saw that she was guarded, but it was only natural.  He wanted to reach under that guard, to reach that level of familiarity that had come between them during their first encounter.  But after having been away for so long, a distance had taken place that would work against him if he wasn't careful.  There was a solemnity in his gaze as he looked at her, but a softened one that saw her as something of an ally.  Even if it was a little convoluted.  He could not determine, however, if he wanted that familiarity only to use her...or because he himself wanted her?  He cringed at the thought of the latter idea.  He wanted the shard.  And if he had to use her to get it....then so be it.

He reached for her hand and took it firmly in his.  "Always quicker.  Anywhere or any time you want.  I can take you there."  He grinned slyly and let his form begin to fade, to shimmer like a ripples in water.  If he so much as wished it, she would as well, fading along with him as if her body and soul were combined in a manner very much like a ghost.  Reality wavered and warped around them until it wrapped them in a rough embrace as he plunged them down in a portal that opened up when they vanished from the room.

It was like flying through a tunnel that transported them at speeds beyond the mortal imagination.  All he had to do was see the image clearly in his mind's eye and he could take them anywhere she wanted.  If that was their destination, they'd arrive in a moment's notice.  But...it seemed to feel slower than usual and something was strange about the sensation of the portal.  Their surroundings had melted away, but soon he felt reality bend around him once more and suddenly it spewed him out, rejecting him violently and they appeared as if thrown from mid-air to the road outside.

He rolled onto the ground, confused and clearly shaken by the ordeal, but he looked behind him as the portal closing without a second's notice.  What had happened?  And why?  Ghanon looked around him and felt along his side as his wound began to throb.  "Gods be damned," he muttered and looked around, savagely, angrily.  "That son of a bitch!  How would he even know I could teleport?  And how could he have stopped me from doing so?" he said to himself, beyond audible range.  The wound had sapped him, how, he didn't know.  But it had, it was the only way it could have happened.

"I'm sorry Lana," he said apologetically.  "I guess we'll have to be taking the old fashioned way after all."  And he frowned as he got to his feet.

[Anonymous]

It had been many months since she had last transported by portal, a gift of magic she herself did not possess.  It was rare that she could transport herself on a whim, and it seemed it happened sporadically and at just the right moment in a very tight moment.  This, she could not attribute to her own power but to the friendship she shared with the elements.  As if they, too, had personality and could sense the peril that threatened her, they aided in the most severe of situations.  However, this had only happened once, and only in her world.  If it were even possible here, it was unlikely that there would ever be a need for such intervention.

She did, however, possess other abilities that were perhaps not as effective as summoning a portal, which essentially served as a door to any destination they wished, but certainly it was far better than traveling by foot.  

The throttling force of their ejection had slammed her onto her back, and she reeled for a moment looking up at an abstract blue sky.  The clouds churned like a swirling candy, blue and crisp white mixing and melting together, while a feeling of weightlessness and a lack of visual spatial feedback made realization difficult.  Gradually the scene became recognizable and she pulled herself upright and dusted herself off.

Ghanon seemed struck by his inability, mumbling to himself too quietly for her to hear.  

She stood herself up and drew near to him, lowering her voice, "There is a field that stretches beyond the alleyway, if you want to follow me."

Lana turned and made her way toward the long alley, looking behind her to make sure he followed.