Spirits of the Earth

Lana's first steps onto the land of Northern Serendipity were tentative, foreign.  If onlookers had known of her royal origin, they would've whispered to one another that she hardly looked the part of a renowned and respected Queen.  Not months ago she had been the very picture of divine perfection, the most telling feature being her eyes.  Crystal blue, when in the company of those that worshiped her, they would emanate confidence, regality, power.  This day, they dulled to a deep purple glaze framed by dewy lashes.  The passion that had so possessed her was now veiled, replaced by a warrior's lost, ghostly gaze as she neglected to react to her new surroundings.  Her hair was slightly tussled with little stray yellow hairs rising above the thicker mass here and there, and the tips of her curls grazed her backside as she walked.  Most noticeable about her as she passed by was her white-knuckled grip on the tar black hilt of a blood spattered sword.  It was sheathed, but evidence of recent battle, perhaps within the last few weeks, remained.  It seemed to be imbued with a surreal darkness, both this and its color contrasting against the background of her sheer ivory gown.  What was left of her gown, that was.  As she continued down the marketplace path, Canis in toe in his arctic wolf form, the bolder tradesmen approached with fruits and jewels to sell.  However, they instantly were deterred by the expression of deep sadness in her face.  Old, dried streams of tears left their trails in the ash and dirt that had lightly coated her cheeks during travel.  She stopped, suddenly awake to the world, to run her fingertips along a turquoise silk bag with embroidered oriental flowers.  For a moment, her white knuckles loosened as if she were going to lift her hand away, but then tightened with two-fold strength as if she were suppressing some sinful desire.  Canis, now in his recognizable mortal form, laid a hand against her back and met her eyes with his.  She held his gaze for a moment, and they seemed to exchange silent conversation before she turned away and began to leave the display.  Canis pulled out a pouch and handed the tradesman three silver coins, and tucked the turquoise bag into his satchel.  

Though weather beaten and exhausted, Lana still retained her imposing strength.  Her life as Queen had not weakened her, but rather through battle and tribulation, reinforced her ability to survive and defend.  And her first order of business was to find a place to rest.

There was something utterly exciting about the robes of a wandering magician.  They were usually colorful enough to seem slightly ridiculous and overtly gaudy without seeming pretentious.  And yet, just entertaining enough that just wearing them was an experience all on their own.  Ghanon rolled up his sleeves in this mortal form, black hair glinting starkly where his usual blonde might have reflected the sunlight.  Hazel eyes shone with glee, hazel eyes that had replaced the silver that he had always borne.  In fact, if not for his hair and eyes, he might have appeared exactly the same as he always did.  For the robes were an interesting away of dark blues and blacks, yet it was probably the red belt and yellow-shaded scarves that hung around his neck negligently.

There was a charm to pulling hats out of rabbits and manifesting jewels from thin air.  Even for a place like Serendipity that was positively alive with the threads of magic (maybe much less now than it was in the past), people still liked to be entertained even with minor magics.   Ghanon wandered the streets of the market area, enjoying the sights, repelling the smells.  It seemed like eternities past before he could recall the last time he'd ever been in such lively surroundings.  Street vendors certainly did not resemble hair-weaved servants who sore their regalia and noses so high that it was hard to tell which was which.

As he strolled, he kept his eyes open looking for any irregularities, peculiar faces or people that seemed to differ from all the rest.  While people were busy buying and selling, his eyes fell on a down cast woman, or at least she seemed so from the way her shoulders seemed heavy, her steps appeared weighted as if she may as well have been dragging along an iron weight behind her.  Ghanon continued to walk normally, walking in her opposing direction until she came nearer.  There was a strange aura about her, something that seemed not of this world.  What was she?  And why would she come here of all places?  Ghanon watched her as she passed him and also as her comrade (he'd seen them walk together from the tradesman's booth) took the turquoise bag and placed it in his satchel

A grin graced him and Ghanon visualized the inside of the satchel, waving his hand momentarily as a small, almost completely unnoticeable portal appeared from beneath the satchel, causing the turquoise bag slip out and onto the floor.  The portal vanished without a trace as quickly as it had appeared.  As he stepped toward it, he picked it up and called out to the woman and her companion just before he started toward them.  "Miss, miss!  I believe you dropped this!"

The world was silent to her; all of the voices, the sound of squeaky wooden wheels as carts sped to their destinations, even the conglomerate of odors wafting by hardly grazed the tip of her senses.  It was as if she were in a world void of everything natural except the replaying memories of weeks past.  She strode along, the scraggly tail of her dress, torn that way due to rough travel, lingered on behind her wiping away her footsteps in the dusty road.  Canis walked carefully at her side, and just behind, feeling some small relief from his good deed.  Perhaps his gift would bring her some happiness, or if not happiness, a moment of distraction from her heavy laden mind.  

They had barely left the stand where he had purchased the turquoise purse when they encountered another full of ripened fruit and fancy, sweet sauces.  Canis' stomach growled and he thought of the last meal they had consumed, and when it was.  It was a mere shared loaf of bread and a bit of water aboard a trade ship, but he remembered that Lana had chosen to take nothing from the meal for herself.  Nourishment was not one of the higher priorities on her list.  First, they needed a place to settle and adjust.  She could not return to such luxuries as food until she was sure of her surroundings.  

It was then that a sound did interrupt her trance, and both her companion and herself turned 'round and stealthily clasped their swords, though they were careful not to make it noticeable to whoever may have addressed them.  Canis, ever alert to the protection of his Queen, mentally noted that the stranger did not address him, who had purchased the item without her knowledge.  This individual was possibly more interested in seeking the attention of Lana rather than him, and he was diligent to keep an eye on the stranger's every move.  

Lana, being confident of her own prowess, chose to take a few steps forward.  With her free hand, the other still poised at her weapon in case of any sign of a threat, she extended her reach to the gentleman.

"Thank you." she wrapped her fingers around the silken object, "Although, I don't believe I've purchased this."

Canis, his intention to surprise her with the gift now utterly ruined, spoke, "You did not, my Lady, however I did."

Thanks would be owed later, but for the moment she merely acknowledged the kindness and took the object from the colorfully dressed man.  She was somewhat distracted by the noticeable difference in his attire.  Everyone here seemed to be wearing variations of brown, pea green, dull salmon pink, black and potato sack tan.  He certainly had no qualms with making himself known to the public.

Maybe the red sash was really pushing the envelope, but to dress ridiculously was really the point here.  Entertainers obviously would always have the most entertaining outfits.  Of course, he could always excuse himself to being some eccentric lord, but that was far too easy.  Ghanon liked a challenge when it was favorable or had something worth being rewarded for in the end.

Ghanon strode ahead confidently, meeting the woman that thanked him even as she claimed not to have even purchased the bag.  This he saw, but did not care to comment on it.  Her companion, however, seemed slightly indignant at having this pointed out, but corrected that scenario all the same.  Ghanon ignored her companion for now as he did not seem of that much importance.  Yet, he would keep him in mind in case further scrutiny was needed.  As for now, however, his attention was on the lady.

She was decent looking, but Ghanon had met and effected many lives throughout time and the universe was not always an easy thing to keep track of and neither were the many faces of the mortals within it.  But he had certain advantages that not even the gods, with all their power, could not even hope to gain.  And remember somebody's face was a task he was good at.  Yes, he'd seen women more beautiful than her.  Became women that were more beautiful!  But there was a familiarity to her eyes that he did not miss.  They didn't seem very...normal, he should say.

He relinquished the bag and folded his hands behind his back.  Tilting his head to the side, he grinned congenially and said, "I would not dwell on it.  It was an easy mistake to make, Miss, err?  What shall I call you?"

OOC:  Sorry it took me so long!  I've been sooooo busy with work, school, music lessons, etc.  Here I am!

IC:

There was something annoyingly.... quirky about this gentleman.  It was a somewhat pleasant trait and yet also rather irritating.  Lana, already in a foul mood, detected that he gazed at her a bit more deeply than she would have liked or expected.  He gave her the feeling that they somehow knew each other, though perhaps not well.  Canis, seeing no form of threat from his object of scrutiny, returned to his arctic wolf form.  It was quite uncommon for his people to shift to their true forms in the presence of someone untrusted, and even was considered to be a bold, wild thing to do in public.  But here, in this world, he had a feeling that shifting in front of the town folk was the least of his worries.  

Lana raised an eyebrow at the inquiry, and took a step forward, making the space between them uncomfortable in the interest of intimidation.  She didn't go so far as to appear confrontational, but she wanted to send a message that she was not here to make friends who she might invite over for tea.  

A vast array of pseudonyms flashed through her mind, and she instantly settled on one, "You may call me Eleana." she glanced over his face for a long second, letting her eyes rest on his chest as if she were determining the level of respect he deserved, and met his gaze again with a pair of wry lavender eyes, "And what do others call you?"

[Don't worry!  Totally understand!]

Ghanon watched her companion transform back into a wolf, a white one by the looks of it.  That was a nifty trick wasn't it and told him that perhaps this fellow was someone to keep an eye out for after all.  If he wasn't a shifter, or didn't reveal himself to be something out of the ordinary, he might have been tempted to turn a blind eye.  Ghanon kept this notation to himself to be considered for later.  It wasn't every day you bumped into a pair of otherworldly strangers, even if one of them proved to be more interesting than the other.  But he kept an open mind; whatever they were doing here, they were obviously strangers.

Ghanon was receptive to her body language but did not allow himself to appear defensive by her sudden need to send a message to him.  He kept his countenance calm and his body relaxed, leaning on one hip and waited for her reply.  When she gave it, Ghanon nodded.  "It is a pleasure to meet you Eleana," he said with a friendly smile.  He did not extend a hand for her to take, seeing that it probably wouldn't be well received, but he kept his place, even as she had stepped closer.  He couldn't be threatened by proximity.

"Others call me lots of things, most of which are silly and ridiculous.  It's hard to make a living if people think you're a fool.  But you may call me Magus.  Like you seem to be, I'm just passing through here.  But if I'm mistaken then excuse my impertinence, I mean no harm by it," he said, taking half a step back, offering her space if she so desired, but turning it into an honorary bow.

A chill wind cascaded along the street and lifted her long straw yellow tresses from her shoulders.  For a moment, it could have appeared that she had a pair of gilded wings poised for flight at her back.  A curl fell into her eyes and upon her lips, hugging their rose shape.  Her eyes narrowed against the dry breeze.  Around the little town signs of an ensuing storm became noticeable, where minutes ago the sky was as tranquil and lovely as from a fairy tale.  A drop of liquid landed on her shoulder and tried to make its way down the length of her arm, but was dried away by the livening wind.  There would be much more of this land to explore, and she could see that there was a spirit of enchantment that only made itself known to a newcomer once they had acquainted themselves.  It was as if this world was meeting her for the first time as a separate entity, with sensitivities and personality all its own.  She was accustomed to such a world overflowing with a magical life force, where everything from the grass to the deified beings that walked upon it was embellished with a sort of secondary life.  Lana could feel a similar imprint in her surroundings as her bare feet gripped the course dirt road.  A kinship was forming, a trust, between herself and all that flourished here.  

A wave of sadness traveled through her eyes as she realized that she could only sense so much, and then, it was gone.  Her mind tried in vain to reach again for a connection, but it faded as quickly as it had come, continuing to taunt her with a taste here and there.  Her eyes, still locked on Magus, blinked and she returned her attention to the bowing figure.  

Quote from: "Lion"Like you seem to be, I'm just passing through here.  But if I'm mistaken then excuse my impertinence, I mean no harm by it.

A wanderer? she thought.  A wanderer like herself...  Her defenses were beginning to soften ever so slightly, though her paranoia of being exiled to such an unfamiliar place was far from at ease.  

She sighed, and for the first time in days her hand left the hilt of the blackened sword to lift the rogue curl from her lips, "Then, I assume you have no suggestions as to where we might stay for the night..."

Canis began to lap at a trail of ants that were pouring from a hole beneath the fruit stand to form a delicious river of tiny workers.

The aura of the world around him flickered and fluctuated, and he tried to place himself in tune with it.  The vibration of life, this world was alive with it, vivid and wondrous, though not unlike other worlds he'd visited.  Travel was something he could never be bored with, yet many worlds mimicked the energies of the other, continually flowing eternally until the end of Time.  Was the energy life, was it magic, was it an intricate combination of both?  Ghanon could never know.  But what he did know that interruptions in that energy affected, even the smallest ones, could affect worlds beyond.

This person before him, this Eleana, something about her told him that she was not exactly as she appeared to be.  Whether she had an alias to protect herself from harm, he did not know, not without inspecting her mind, but there was something decidedly different than the flux and flow of life here on this plane.  If he wasn't mistaken, he could sense specs of astral energy on her.  Only a deity, or one in relation to it, would have that on them.  Could it be?  And then the unusual shade of her eyes, not that he could complain with his own being of silver.  He decided, if given half the chance, he would do his best to find out exactly who she was.

After he'd introduced himself as Magus, Ghanon kept his face unassuming and vaguely innocent, but not unknowledgeable.  "Oh my lady, you assume incorrectly.  I may be a wanderer, but I've been around here once or twice. I believe I might know a place that may or may not be suitable to your liking.  If you would like, I can take you there.  And your friend here," Ghanon looked down at the wolf that now seemed to be enjoying a trail of ants, "he will certainly be welcome too."

Lana's heart palpitated in response to an utterly new and thrilling feeling.  It was as if the spirit of this world were opening up to her own, blooming and enveloping her brokenness within its velvet petals.  It had been months since she'd felt such tenderness.  It spoke to her in hardly audible whispers whose soft sound communicated the gentle meaning that the obscurity of the words could not.  Though it was faint, and unlike her communion with her own devastated Kingdom, it gave her grounding.  

I thought I might never be in touch with life ever again...  This thought overcame her for an instant, until she recognized she had taken far too long a pause before responding to Magus.

Magus was too polite...  Everything about him was exaggerated.  It could have simply been that he was indeed an eccentric performer with little social finesse, or perhaps their coincidental meeting was not so haphazard and there was more than meets the eye.  

Lana veiled her moment of distraction by feigning disinterest, "Lead the way."

Ghanon was sure to lay it on pretty thick.  Even if he usually had an ulterior motive, sometimes it was best to improvise and see where a moment took you rather than simply working the board of the game of life.  Nothing was as it seemed, and anything is possible, after all.  A mantra he kept in mind everywhere he went.  If she was in some relation to a deity, or some sort, well that could mean a whole world of things on its own.  But for now, it was best to be sure before action was taken.  And even if he was sure, what actions were there to take?

Magus, as he called himself, nodded in a bow of deference as he was wont to show even complete strangers, and moved so that she could walk beside him rather than behind him.  It was simply impolite anyway.  "I don't suppose you've ventured here before have you?" he said as he walked when she chose to take her place.  "Our destination is little more than a small diner and tavern, on the nicer part of town.  And by nicer I mean it is a place where at least most middle class merchants may find themselves, rather than a rowdy bar.  Though for the right price, a hot meal there isn't bad at all."  He was casual and spoke with his hands, but kept a polite distance from her.

They wandered through the crowds of the market area, vendors calling out to them to look at their various wares, food and colorful cloths that made all else seem drab in comparison.  Though the town was small, the tavern they happened to stand in front of was at least presentable from the outside.  A sign hung outside that said: Canary Roses.

Ghanon stepped aside as he opened the door.  "You go first, milady," he said.

If it didn't already bother her that she looked like such a foreigner, Magus' comment made it clear.  He seemed to focus on her inability to blend with these crowds, and as she thought about it, it was telling that he had noticed her so abruptly in the road.  Lana hadn't really attempted changing her clothes or cleaning up, and in fact, she noted that clutching a deadly weapon as she did was not likely a common sight among the townsfolk.  

In reply, she nodded, "I am quite new to the area."  Here, she began her lying, "I remember passing briefly through Serendipity as a child...." she smiled a little, "Though, having grown up with parents who could never quite settle in one place, I hardly remember it now."

She proceeded to listen as he gave her a mental picture of the place they would arrive at.

A hot meal.......  Nothing sounded better at the moment.

And indeed, just as her mouth began to water, they had come to the doors of Canary Roses.

Magus' attempt at a demonstration of gentility seemed somehow out of place.  However, Lana saw no harm in humoring the entertainer to play a little more at "gentlemen and ladies".  The look of the tavern was of no consequence to her.  More important was the feeling of grounding that overtook her.  For someone having endured the fragmenting effects of traveling through crude portals, the unpredictable sea, long days spent near the hot sun in flight, and being subjected to the lowest form of travel, walking as a mortal through dense forest and treacherous deserts, finally having her feet upon a cool, polished wood floor was like finding that a mirage of water was no mirage at all.  The scent of others, musty and warm, was very pleasant to her.  She was now within a society brimming with social activities, real, live people, and soon she would lay claim to her own comfortable bed for a long night's rest.  Without regard for her companion or Magus, she grabbed her coin purse and marched to over to purchase a room.

He was beginning to tell that the act was getting to her and it seemed she thought it to be a little more than ridiculous to have a man act a little more formal and friendly than necessary.  Even if she was a foreigner, the chances of her going to great lengths to protect herself were more than necessary and methods of which he'd gone great lengths to perfect himself.  Strangers just 'passing through' a place were not uncommon, but here they were, especially armed strangers.  And rarer still were strangers without a past.

Magus listened to the digressive detail and grinned.  It was believable.  Not that he believed it, but it was believable and that was all he had to say about that.  Magus bowed when she passed him into the tavern and closed the door behind him after her wolfish companion passed through.

Here the establishment was unlike most others.  It was a rather well maintained facility and although smoke rose up not only behind the kitchen and from the rolled cigars and pipes of a men as they smoked nonchalantly.  Their eyes did not raise up out of suspicion or curiousness to the newcomers that had arrived.  In fact many patrons by the bar merely raised their glasses in welcome, some a little drunk, and they continued to puff away on their smokes.  Though it was clearly a men's establishment, women were more than welcome here as they sat beside their male companions, laughing amongst themselves.

He took a seat an empty table by the side while she went off to speak to the counterman about what he guessed was purchasing a room.  By then a waitress came around and greeted them with a smile.  She seemed a little surprise of the large wolf that had followed them inside but smiled nonetheless as it was her job to do so. She set down some menus at each end of the table and would return when they were ready to order.  When Eleana returned to have a seat, Magus pushed the menu in front of her.   "I have a few friends here in this place.  Feel free to order anything you like."

A room there was decidedly inexpensive, and though the surroundings were rugged and maintained an obvious amount of regulars, she was still surprised at how such a seemingly popular tavern could survive at such meager prices.  Lana assumed that the wine and mead must be quite good to sustain them financially, and from a cursory glance she could not see one glowing, rosy-cheeked customer without a pint in hand.  

She made her way over to the chosen table slowly, her hips swaying ever so as her eyes glanced here and there at the smiling and sometimes listless clients.  She absorbed as much of her surroundings as possible and instantly felt the warmth of comfort.  Here, it was rather impossible to stand out in a crowd of commoners who cared to do little more than coexist without question of one another.  She enjoyed the charm of the little pub, and happily took her seat across from Magus.  Canis' wolfish instincts drove him to sniff out the crumbled bits of forgotten food on the floor.

Lana stared at the menu with widened eyes after it was offered.  She knew of the currency here and had some knowledge of the people, but the food available was quite foreign to her.  She was accustomed to taking nourishment from the natural cycles of her earth, feeding off of the energies of life and end of life.  Eating as a mortal ate was still extremely alien to her, and though her stomach rumbled in response to the succulent scents floating from the kitchen, she felt ill at the prospect of consuming something through the full digestive process and allowing her body to work so hard to gain the nutrients it needed.  It was a habit she would have to conform to quickly.  The difficulty it posed to her was one of the many reasons she had neglected to eat on the voyage there.  

Another problem was presented to her.  If she gave any clue to her ignorance of food, and what all of the dishes consisted of, it would not only expose her lie about her supposed childhood, but also raise suspicion that she was not just any passerby.  Though she was highly unsure of what most of the dishes were defined as, some words stood out to her.  Bread, soup, fish....  A visible chill disturbed her.  Fish....  A living thing....  The idea of grey, lifeless flesh becoming a part of her own, absorbing into her system, somehow bringing her energy from loss of energy...  Of course, death in her world had renewed her life force just as life had.  However, death for her people was never truly death, but a maturing, a second birth of sorts.  Here, it was the opposite, a finality.  

Lana looked up to her apparently well-known companion.  Did he mean to boast about his connections here?  Although, it did bring her some solace that wandering with him was not entirely without benefit.

Cleverly, she ventured to feign indecisiveness, "Even so, I wouldn't want to choose the most expensive meal out of ignorance.  What do you enjoy here?"

As she met his eyes and let her own fall upon his features, she noted that there was something almost inconstant about him....  It was as if he wore his face, rather than possessed it.....  A very disturbing idea to her.

The strangeness of the moment passed, and she took it as nothing more than the meanderings of an overburdened mind.  She could not fathom why or how such a notion would even come to the surface of her consciousness.  It was strange indeed, and she wished to forget it instantly.

"You'll have to forgive me..." she smiled, the first true smile since their introduction, "It will have to be something... a little fresh.  I don't prefer meat myself."

Identities were never just masks for Ghanon.  Perhaps they were merely different manifestations for differing facets of himself, but they were all wholly-encompassed identities that Ghanon embraced to the fullest.  Amidst the faces most familiar, he kept them to a minimum, each new identity gaining the undivided attention of the bearer.  Perhaps the only reason he'd bothered to keep his own face at all was to find some semblance of reality for the man that continued to question the reality of all things.  It hadn't been long before he'd realized that reality was what you made it, not the other way around.  Magus may have been another identity, but he was as real as any flesh and blood customer in here.

Magus had sorted through the items on the menu while he waited for Eleana to return, though thinking her with that name, it matched only in the places she deemed fit didn't it.  She was clever, he could see that enough, and the interest he had in discovering who she was, well that only grew the longer he sat there.  He kept his face pointed down at the menu as she treaded to where he was, and he his eyes darted upward to gaze at her without changing position.  He sat back when she took a seat and brought a smile to his already quite jovial face.

He watched her trying to decide what it was that she wanted to eat, eyes that studied but never landing on one thing for more than a few seconds at a time.  Then she seemed visibly shaken and he tilted his head a little, furrowing his brow and looking slightly taken aback.  But it was a reaction that came and went before she went on to speak for herself.

"Well, do not fret, Eleana," he sat up to explain.  "The menu here can be very daunting because they serve so many wonderful delicious meals.  They are not at all expensive, so regardless of what you choose, there would be no problem as to covering for it."  Magus leaned forward a bit and propped down his own menu so that she could see where he pointed as he searched for the meal of his own choosing.  "This one will do very nicely if you don't want any meat.  Vegetable stew, a thick soup made up of potatoes cabbage, beets, carrots, with just a hint of garlic.  It is very good.  Though, that is merely a suggestion.  Please continue to look over the menu still if you'd like to decide for yourself."

Magus nodded and looked at his menu again.  "I think I'll have the beef stew, which is right beside the vegetable one.  And just what would you like to drink?  A mead, ale, wine?  I'll tell you the wine here is very good, though feel free to choose whatever you want.  A here comes the waitress."  Just as he spoke, she arrived with a booklet, ready to record the objects of their desire.  "Yes, dear, give me a good mead and the beef stew if you don't mind.  Thank you."  She wrote it all down and turned to his companion across from him and wrote it down when Eleana had chosen.

When that was done she took the menus under her arm and soon returned with their drinks.  Magus held his close and took a sip.  "So, Eleana," he began with a grin.  "How long have you been traveling so far?"

They seemed to study one another with the same probing motivation.  Minutes ago she may have hardened to find that he was unafraid to study her as deeply as she did him.  However, the long awaited comforts of company, music, and the common nourishment of body and soul dissolved her icy outer shell and allowed her youth to bubble over.  She leaned backward and slouched a bit in her chair, a mass of tangled curls pressing in against her cheek between her shoulder and face.  She was well aware of the effects of alcohol on the mortal body, but having never exposed herself to it, she yearned to know what the consequences might be for herself.  It was in her nature to try those things that might bring her closer to her mortal blood, and so she ordered a full bottle of a strong red wine, and a bowl of water for Canis.  He was ever watchful of her new-found companion, and though Lana found herself quickly becoming enchanted by this homey place, Canis would not let down his guard.  

Lana's nose scrunched at the idea of having to watch Magus consume the spoiled flesh of a once-living animal, but she said nothing and resolved to simply eat her own dinner as fast as possible to avoid any thought of the carnivorous nature of these beings.  

As he spoke, she became distracted by a jolly group of drunkards dancing to a happy tune just over his shoulder.  Their glistening sweat seemed not to deter them, and one of the more attractive waitresses was coerced into joining them and soon was having a good time of her own.  Dancing had not been very common where Lana came from...  In fact, most of life seemed to move in a very peaceful slow motion.  Even waking every morning to greet the sun with its gift of morning dew was ceremonious.  

It was the arrival of their drinks that disturbed her from her thoughts.  She had not known how large the bottle of wine would be, but she now realized that it was massive enough to satisfy at least three individuals.  She poured herself a tall glass and, first taking in its bitter sweet scent and touching her tongue to the rim of the glass, took a sip.  It dried her throat and tickled her mouth, and after her first swig she found she soon wanted another to repeat the lofty sensations.  

Magus then asked her a simple question, and she gave none of her lack of preparation away.  

"I have been traveling for months now, perhaps longer.  Time is fleeting when you are adjusting to new environments rapidly from one minute to the next."  She took yet another sip of her wine and set it beside her.

Magus gripped his mug and buried his smile deep into the mead and savored the spicy, fruity taste the cold beverage offered.  It smelled wonderful, much in the manner of being in a room filled with spiced pies that were baking to perfection.  Magus had taken a deep, long, thoughtful drink before he had set the mug down on the table in a gentle manner.  It was a very good drink since it was brewed fresh her in the north rather than being imported from the more expensive breweries to the south.  Local brews were almost always the best ones, he'd always say.

He wiped off his moist lips with a rag and turned his head to look over his shoulder at the more than drunk dancers that were having one hell of a good time behind him.  He laughed at the way they tossed each other around while trying to maintain their drinks in their hand.  Another good thing about the place, he reminded himself.  There was almost no end to the welcome here and after all the party was only beginning with the way the drunks were only starting to teeter in their places.

He turned back to her as she answered and noticed the size of the bottle of wine she had ordered.  For just a moment he wondered if she planned on finishing that thing all by herself.  Casting a glance down at his own already half-emptied mug of mead, he also considered asking her if she minded sharing a glass or two.  It didn't matter, it was all going to be paid for anyway.  He could always order another bottle.

"Oh, yes indeed.  Time is fleeting," he said knowingly, perhaps a little too well.   "How's the old saying go?  Ah, it's 'Time flies when you're having fun!'  I don't suppose traveling far from the south can be much fun at all.  Have you ever been this far north before?  Just exactly where are you headed?"  He took another drink from the mug and checked its contents.  One quarter left.  He hoped that waitress came back soon.

It had never occurred to her that she should even think of sharing her bottle of wine, though not due to any disregard for Magus.  In fact, her ignorance of the substance itself and the customs of drinking created a rather humorous situation, unbeknownst to her.  Lana entirely trusted the waitress to have brought her whatever amount would make her seem 'normal' to those around her.  And so, seeing others around her mimicking the gesture with much smaller bottles, she wrapped her tiny hands around the trunk of her beverage and took a deep, long swig of it.  The smell was overpowering.  It crawled along the back of her throat and into her nostrils, the tannins of the fermented grapes drying her mouth.  She pursed her lips after swallowing one last time, and suddenly felt very warm.  Where was this heat coming from?  Her whole body seemed to relax into a state of heaven, and even her sword sank in its sheath at her side as if it too had partook.  Canis lifted his rested head from his paws and raised an expressive eyebrow at her.  What could she think she was doing?  Perhaps, soon, he would have to retreat to an unnoticeable dark corner and return to his mortal visage.  Everyone around them who had tasted this elixir was acting out of their minds!  Whether the same effect would be seen upon her would shortly be found out.

The dancing had gradually begun to slow as the subjects of such gaiety stumbled onto some nearby cherry wood benches.  Lana smiled at their behavior and returned her attention to Magus.  Surely these people were mad....

Magus replied, "Oh, yes indeed. Time is fleeting.  How's the old saying go? Ah, it's 'Time flies when you're having fun!' I don't suppose traveling far from the south can be much fun at all. Have you ever been this far north before? Just exactly where are you headed?"

Canis' ears were perked in Magus' direction.  He wasn't keen on the inquisitiveness of this stranger they had barely begun to know. Canis could only hope that his Queen, though wise in spirit but very much unwise to this new world, would possess enough cynicism to suspect the motivation of these questions.

Lana indeed realized how narrow the spectrum of their conversation had remained.  However, Magus' curiosity could also be regarded with the understanding that they had one thing in common:  they were wanderers.  And in the spirit of drifting into a more vague and friendly conversation, she consistently left out details.

"Fun..." she scoffed, "I wouldn't venture to use that word, no.  And as I said, I've been here before, but only briefly as a child.  So in truth, I have been this far north, though my mind is blank as to the roads and landmarks, even the patterns of the land.  For this reason, I really don't know where I'm headed."  She smiled, "I suppose, then, I was headed here."

It had been too long since the last euphoric gulp, and so she swallowed yet more of the wine and made a satisfied sound.  She almost didn't feel the need to eat.

The attention was greatly upon her, and she realized she knew nothing of Magus.  The tables were ready to turn.

"You, on the other hand, seem to know so much about Serendipity.  You must have been here long?"

The mead had run dry and his mug was empty.  He sat leaning back against the wooden chair, his arm crossed over the top and his legs cross underneath the table, leaving his other hand playing with the grip of the empty cup.  He'd call for more later.  Magus couldn't stop smiling, but really, when could he ever?  Wasn't he supposed to play the entertainer?  Indeed entertainers even had to entertain themselves at times.  And this was more than an opportune moment.  He laughed at the way this woman took swigs from the wine bottle, drinking it as if it were little more than water and she'd just returned from a long trek in the desert.

He had a feeling he was partially right, she had the air about her that she'd been traveling for a very long time.  Just when and from where, he couldn't be sure.  But if given half the chance he would be sure to find out.  Magus grabbed the bottle and ducked his eye to the top, peering through to see if there was even anything left.  He took a massive swig as well and called to one of the waitresses by the bar.  "Send over two more please!  My friend here is very thirsty!"

He was glad that she was feeling at least slightly more relaxed, at least a bit more than she had when he first encountered her outside.  The bottles were brought over immediately just as the food was nearly finished in preparation and he popped off the top of his own as soon as it hit the table.  She answered as he poured the bottle into the empty mug, filling it to the brim.  With a nod, he shrugged and brought the drink to his lips, taking several large sips.

"Oh for quite a long time.  Little more than a year or so.  I've traveled around either on foot or with anyone willing to give me a ride.  Trust me, wagon travel might be fast, but it is not at all comfortable when the roads are ragged.  If you keep heading north, soon you'll hit the mountains.  Though we're quite near them already, so for all intents and purposes you may need a coat.  It won't take long to know the lay of the land if you bother to pay attention at all."  He took another long drink and refilled his mug even though it wasn't even empty yet.

"This bottle is delicious!  I don't suppose you're some sort of wine connoisseur are you?  You sure know how to choose a bottle.  Do you drink often back from where you're from?  Here have some more!  You're missing out!"  Magus popped open the second new bottle and shoved it at her.  They all needed to relax.

Lana was already feeling a little... strange.  The warm liquid was too delicious to stop drinking, and was filling her empty belly better than any food had, though there wasn't much experience with food to really compare.  Magus seemed highly ecstatic about the alcohol, and she quietly assumed that this was probably one of his favorite hobbies.  He seemed to know so much about it, too...

Her limbs suddenly feeling heavy and uncoordinated, she plopped her elbow loudly down onto the table without a flinch and leaned her cheek into her hand.  Her eyes were half open, a deep ocean blue with a twinkle of delight at the center.  This was a stark contrast to the saddened and mellow lavenders and purples that had fluctuated earlier.  Color flushed to her face, as if she had pinched her own cheeks as many women did to achieve an attractive rose hue.  Her mind was so foggy, after having nothing to eat and drinking so much of the wine, that she could only think of a few things at once.  This was a great relief, as this meant her worries were very far from her.

Magus continued to speak.  He was a man of many, many words, she found...  

"Oh for quite a long time. Little more than a year or so. I've traveled around either on foot or with anyone willing to give me a ride. Trust me, wagon travel might be fast, but it is not at all comfortable when the roads are ragged. If you keep heading north, soon you'll hit the mountains. Though we're quite near them already, so for all intents and purposes you may need a coat. It won't take long to know the lay of the land if you bother to pay attention at all."

Lana was grateful for this bit of information, though it came across a little arrogant, as most things he said did.  It was perhaps her own perception, and the mood that she had encountered him in that enticed such critical analyses.  Wagons...  She had ridden in quite a few and knew exactly what he spoke of.  And they were a pretty price.

"This bottle is delicious! I don't suppose you're some sort of wine connoisseur are you? You sure know how to choose a bottle. Do you drink often back from where you're from? Here have some more! You're missing out!" Magus was now quite excited about his hobby, and Lana gave out her first very genuine laugh.

"I am no connoisseur, but I suppose I have a sense."  Wine?  What exactly was the difference between wine and ale and mead....  In fact, she had no sense at all of what she was drinking, but she had no inkling to give up his compliments to her, and after pressing the bottle to her lips again to consume yet more, she set it down very wobbly, and continued, "I've never drank much, but it is something I really enjoy!"

Why the sudden desire to have something in common with him?  The thick filter that normally existed between her thoughts and her mouth was growing thinner, and started to shed pieces.

"Do -you- drink often?" She giggled, and again drank more.

Finally, the food arrived, and she wearily set the bottle aside and dipped her fork into the vegetable stew.

Darken Vei had been flatlanded province to the south and grew steadily hillier and mountainous the further north and west.  Where they were now, as still to the south and the cold hadn't yet hit them.  Even in summer, there were light snowfalls at night and he had a feeling there would be one such one coming their way.  As he drank, he paused for a moment and closed his eyes, seeming to be savoring the taste of the wine.  He held his breath as a vision passed under his eyes, images of snow and wind.  Traveling tonight, while possible, would be highly unrecommended.

He passed it off as a sigh and downed the full contents of his mug before filling it again all the way to the top.  "It's rare to find well-drinking company these days," he said absently and watched as the food arrived.  He let the smells of the stew enter into his nostrils and inhaled it like it was a new high.  Perhaps it even gave him a little bit of a buzz.  He took a hearty taste of the broth, the chunks of meat there giving it a thickened, but scrumptious taste.

He swallowed it down with another swig of the wine, this time from the bottle.  "Drink often?  From time to time, I do enjoy a bottle of wine here and there.  But I'm by no means some drunkard.  I prefer to enjoy it rather than to vomit by a curbside.  What about you?  How often do you find yourself tossing back a few hard ones, eh?"  He offered a chuckle as he ate and looked at her expectantly.

[Short! Ugh!  Sorry!]

(No probs.)

Lana's eyes widened a little at his mentioning vomit.  Why would he mention vomiting?  Looking down at her food she shuffled it about after a couple of bites.  Really, she was starting to feel too much of the wine to continue her meal.  A lethargy overtook her accompanied by suddenly very sad feelings.  It was then that she realized Magus might be bored with her company.  He seemed so nonchalant...  And why should she care?  This new feeling of vulnerability, of having discovered a possible friend in an otherwise friendless world, and wanting to impress this new acquaintance....  It was so strange to her.  This drink... She scowled in the direction of the wine bottle.  It was degrading to her good sense.

"I think this is the first time," she stopped herself, and added to her sentence, "In a very long time that I've ever really experienced.... this."  She glanced at the other customers around them, merrily enjoying themselves.

She was starting to feel a little embarrassed at her own behavior.  Lana noticed the sound of the tip of her sheath scraping the floor as she shifted in her chair.  She was entirely at ease now, and though perhaps it was a positive change from the constant stresses of survival, it was also incredibly careless.  But there was nothing to be done about it now.  

"What are you?" she found herself asking this vague question, once again caught by his attire.

For Magus, he was quite enjoying the beverage.  The tenseness of this very physical body sometimes took some getting used to but at least he wasn't sinking through the floor.  The fluid made him far too relaxed.  His food already half gone by the time he noticed his companion had barely touched hers.  That was a little sad and he might have asked her if anything was wrong if she hadn't already spoken herself.  He put down his spoon and kept the mug from his lips all the while he kept a small grin on his face in congeniality.

"Well, it's not hard to get used to.  Once in a while is good, and I think you're doing just fine for someone so...well, inexperienced for lack of another word."  Magus gave a good healthy grin and took another swig.  He busied himself with pouring another drink.  By now the bottle was feeling rather light.  Behind him another song was starting and the patrons that were rested were starting to dance again.

Magus looked a little taken aback by her sudden question but it was certainly not unwelcomed.  "I am a magician, of course.  I do small, uncomplicated parlor tricks for the enjoyment of others.  And for money, but it brings in a poor living.  I do my best," Magus shrugged before shooting his right hand out to her as if he intended on hitting her.  But out from his sleeve appeared the most beautiful bouquet of flowers most anyone would have ever seen.  He offered them to her gently and stood up.  "For you, my lady," he said with a grin and bowed extravagantly again.

Lana sat back swiftly, though her reaction time was poor due to her recent intoxication, but was delighted to find that it was a bouquet of flowers.  They were all shades of blue, a rare find unless enchanted.  Her own eyes mimicked the same hues, the reflection of the petals disappearing into the similar coloring.  She glanced up at him and smiled gently.

"That's quite impressive." she was unsure as to whether she should take them or not, and then gently wrapped her fingers around the stems and pulled them near, "But surely you can do more than that?"

(OOC:  Sorry it's so short, having an interesting night.)

If he had more pride, Ghanon of Dragolir would not lower himself to embody the identity of some performer of cheap tricks that were only good to entertain others.   But pride was a dangerous obstacle that prevented people from enjoying life to the fullest.  If he cared even a droplet about what his father would say or what others thought of him, well, then he might not be in the business of chaos.  It was all very lucrative for him.  And Ghanon couldn't stop the grin that was plastered on his face as Magus.

He was clearly amused at the fact that the flowers, while an old gag, still worked enough to make her grin gently.  When she questioned the rest of his skill, he only grinned wider and stood up.  "Just getting started, my friend," he said.  Magus pulled a small crystal ball from his coat pocket and showed her every angle of it.  Suddenly his other hand went up and crushed it into his palm, shattering the crystal and grinding it into his palm.  As he pulled his hand away, instead of broken glass, there appeared a small crow that promptly flew away to the rafters of the tavern.  "Enjoy that?"

Certainly all of this was quite charming, and Lana was impressed that Magus, for a mere mortal, could perform such entertaining tricks.  Of course, in comparison to all of the magic that had coexisted in her realm, this was merely an attempt that mortals made to bring enchantment to their simpler lives.  Being half mortal, she could appreciate those longings, and the magic of humans.  For once in what seemed like eons, she found her heart lifting just slightly.  Though, this attempt to forget all that had passed, this silly distraction from all of the devastation that darkened her life, was only momentary.  All good things would pass away as night would fall, when she would sleep alone with her relentless thoughts.  

Lana lifted her forefinger to brush the crow's soft belly as he flew past into the dark rafters, "Yes!  You are very talented."  

A glass of water sat beside her, and she dipped the stems of her quickly wilting flowers into the liquid to rest in a make-shift vase.  It had all of the features of a conjured replica of real flowers.  They smelled spiced, like nutmeg, instead of flowery, and the petals were all too soon curling and drying.  A wonderful attempt, indeed.

She leaned down to run her fingers through Canis' coarse fur at the front of his brow, down through to the finer fibers between his ears.  

Magus seemed so alone, she wondered at his reason for remaining that way.  

"It seems like a lonely life being a poor magician always moving from one destination to the next.  Have you nothing but your magic to keep you company?"

Magus laughed, clearly showing signs of all that liquor finally settling in, the mead had always taken the longest and the wine was strong enough to make his head cloudy, but a wonderful kind of cloudiness that had him grinning like a madman.  Perhaps there was some truth to the expression, he did very much feel like a madman.  Or he was playing the part only too well.  One never could be sure with performers like him.  But as with all sorts of displays, the show must go on.

After he'd turned the crystal into a crow, Magus bowed in thanks and humility at the applause of the people around him, those of which quickly turned back to their own mugs and the dancers continued as the next song was just about to begin.

He looked surprised by her next question and he reached for another chug of the wine, but he was already spinning a little as it was.  "No, it's just my magic I suppose," he said reflectively and not without a little sorrow.  His eyes were down cast at that.  He looked back at the dancers as the song had just begun.  "Would you like to dance with me?  I won't bite!  I promise."  He smiled charmingly and extended a hand to her.  It ought to be more fun than sitting here and talking about loneliness.  He was sure she didn't want to do that.

The twinkle in Lana's eyes remained, thought it was slightly hazed by the effect of the alcohol.  It brightened a little when he offered to dance with her.  She had just endured and emotionally and physically taxing journey to the point of all encompassing exhaustion, and now, she found herself in a joyous little place with a companion who was smart not to delve into the darker topics of conversation.  Her heart lightened a little, and she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet with a hand remaining on the table.  

Canis took this as a cue to venture off for a moment and change form.  He raised himself from the lazy position he had taken and wandered toward the stairway.  There, he chose a darkened corner just as a pair of women passed by, and regained his human physique.  He waited a few moments to make the transition between wolf climbing the stairs to gentleman descending the stairs less noticeable.  Although, he wasn't too concerned with the level of observational skill that most of the occupants possessed.  Once he returned to the table, feigning an introduction and providing a handshake, he gently slipped Lana's sword from her side.  He could not imagine that an armed woman dancing with an eccentric looking magician wouldn't turn a few suspicious heads.  

Lana allowed Magus to envelope her hand in his own, and followed as he led her to an unoccupied place in the tavern.  Her feet were at first terribly unsteady, but she managed to remain unscathed during their short journey.  Suddenly, a wave of insecurity overcame her.  She realized just how very strangely dressed she was, with her once gloriously long white dress tattered to the length of a very short skirt at the front; the remaining bit in the back was reduced to what might've been considered a spindly, unraveling train nearly torn to bits.  The belled sleeves of her dress had dwindled to elbow length pieces, but the bodice remained somehow better intact.  It was apparent that during her time on foot, she had lost a bit of weight, her previously slender figure now just slightly more delicate, and made to appear so by the somewhat loose fit of her clothing.  Her hair was still quite a mess, wild and dirtied.  She made a pointless attempt at straightening some of it, feeling some eyes on her, though not all.  She was grateful that it was not all.  The music changed at that moment to something very lively, and she drew her lips to his ear and whispered,

"It has been so long since I've danced.  I don't want to hurt you."

Canis watched on with a careful eye, growing discomforted by the spectacle the two of them were making.  But it wasn't within his right to question her, and as her last remaining servant, he would not bring himself to interfere unless certain harm was imminent.

Magus did not look like a gentleman, not in his colorful rags, or the wisps of his black hair that had an oiled look to it, though was not so.  The room was warm and his cheeks were a little flushed from all the drinking and the laughing and the movement and from the sheer enjoyment of the company of a beautiful woman.  It was not that he looked at her like she was one, and not just some stranger off the street.  And though she was, the liquor made him not even bother to think about it twice.  He was beginning to think perhaps he was a little too drunk.

He led her to the dance floor, or rather just the section of the tavern that was busy with frolic and beer and dirty jests and blushes going all around them.  Magus noticed how she seemed to be suddenly so self-conscious.  He took her other hand and kept her in a spot away from the other dancers.  They seemed to be making far too much merriment to bother noticing her style of dress.  They weren't all that cleanly themselves now that he thought of it.  Magus leaned in close when she spoke to him as the fiddle suddenly picked up and the others started bouncing on their feet.

"Nobody's here to judge you," he whispered, a little closer than she did.  "Don't worry about anything, just do what I do."  Suddenly he began to bounce in tune with the music and did as the others did, spinning and twirling and spinning her as well and knowing all the while that he was being watched by the wolf-now-turned-man.

Lana appreciated the distance he made between them and the happy, dancing crowd.  She kept an eye on them here and there to see how they moved.  Her feet were bare, and though dirty from obvious reasons, somehow were unmarred after all they had been through.  She allowed him to twirl her with the music, though with every revolution she was wobbling more and more.  Finally she laughed heartily as she held on to one of his arms with both hands to steady herself.  

Her blue eyes were radiant now, and she grasped him in order to send him into a whirl of his own.  It was a silly sight to see a tiny girl twirling a man as if she were leading.  But fair was fair.  

She regained a bit of herself after her dizziness, "Dancing is so brutal when you're a girl." she laughed.

"Dancing is brutal when your head is spinning like a damn whirling top."  Magus found himself laughing with her and let her cling to his arm as she tried to steady herself, she was far too drunk.  Well that was good! He was too!  Magus bellowed out even louder as she sent him into a spin.  He was moving so fast that he lost his balance and  tumbled to the floor, but quickly jumped back onto his feet and clung to her when the music finally slowed down.

He was even more flushed now and he found he wrapped an arm around her waist and laughed as the song began to slow down to a softer, melodic turn.  Still the wine was flowing between the couples as they all found someone to hold on to.  Magus blushed further and laughed a little awkwardly but still offered a hand if she wanted to continue dancing.  "This is a beautiful song."

Lana's remark before they had started dancing, about not wishing to hurt him, rang in her head as he spilled to the floor.  But she couldn't feel too guilty, in fact, much of herself was lost to the spinning room.  She was grateful for the slowing of the music.  Her stomach churned as it tried to digest the fermented liquid and what little food she had consumed.  For a moment, the nausea distracted her and she breathed a bit more deeply to allow it to pass.  The enamored couples around them were of little notice to her, though one couple drunkenly fumbled into them and stumbled away.  

Canis leaned his head upon his fist becoming thoroughly bored with the whole affair.  He absently stroked his weapon as he kept his gaze on the goings on in the middle of the room.  The bartender called for drinks all around, thanks to a newly arrived gentleman who apparently had money to spare.  

Mugs of beer were being passed around and spilled, and as Lana reached for her own a third of it wet her skirt.  She smiled and drank the rest of it in one long draft, feeling rather impressed with herself.

Lana allowed Magus to draw her in for the next song, the one he had thought so lovely.  The pianist seemed to trickle thick droplets of soothing sound into the atmosphere, while a violin was the accompaniment.

Magus grabbed the mug that was handed to him and downed it like water.  Despite all the drinks he'd been taking in, his throat was feeling far too parched and the beer had hit just the right spot.  It warmed him much, sloshed around like a swirling torrent of amber love that told him that this was a good evening gone great.

He took his partner close and put a hand on her waist, the other holding her hand.  "You're a very good dancer, you know.  One would almost think you remember far more than you're letting on."  He laughed a little and smiled a genuine grin that was filled with warmth.  "I don't suppose you dance with strangers often."

[Sorry for the shortness!  Bit of a case of writer's block.]

Had she been in a clearer state of mind, Lana would have never allowed such a physical closeness between the two of them.  But in a battle between the need to feel vulnerable and the habit of hardening oneself for the sake of survival, at times, the former won out.  It was pleasurable to have the warmth of another hand against her body, the artificial reassurance of companionship so momentary, and yet, for that moment, so very healing.  She found herself half listening to his words, distracted by her own inner thoughts which ran wildly from one focus to the next.  He mentioned something about dancing with strangers....

"I almost never dance with strangers...." she leaned onto his arm for support, "I'm far too special to dance with just anyone."

This last remark of hers, she realized, meant one thing to her and probably an entirely other thing to him.  Dancing for her people had been a very rare experience, and a very artistic one.  But she, as Queen, as a blessed one, would never be seen to dance with just anyone.  Which was why she had never truly danced.  To Magus, it may seem that she was being jokingly arrogant, or perhaps being cleverly flirtatious.  But in reality, she was "too special".

She blushed a little at how he might take the remark, but continued to lean most of her small weight against him.

Ghanon knew exactly what he was doing, for he'd done it a thousand times over, though even now his head was a foggy, very foggy and he felt as if the only one in the room was Lana.  He focused in on her.  Even if the beer and wine was still flowing like a wildly crashing river, some people were already filing out.  He'd always enjoyed dancing...there was something about it that that made some connection to that other world that had long been forgotten in some distant memory...

At her words, he could only smiled and chuckle a deep throaty chuckle before he brushed his cheek lightly on hers and squeezed her hand.  "You are very special," he said.  "That's why you're dancing with me."

Once he'd been a prince, though he would never tell such a thing and didn't want to remember that part of him.  Corroth was a forgotten world, dead or dying.  And if it wasn't, he would ensure that it would be.  Things changed all the time.  He'd see to that; it was his "destiny", if he had one at all.  He leaned in close to her and barely pecked her cheek, lightly, feelingly, affectionately even if she was a complete stranger.  

[I'm sick of the short posts!  sorry again!]

A mixture of warmth, lust, comfort, and fear combined to throttle her into realization.  She had very little understanding of mortals and their ways of courting, but she did know her own unpredictable half-mortal body, and how responsive it was to his vague promises of comfort.  Even the lightest touch of his lips to her skin threw her.  In a moment of spontaneous introspection, she knew that her state of vulnerability was making her susceptible to much that was unknown.

Instantly, her guard was raised, though physically she remained as casual as before leaving no hint as to her change of awareness.  However, a spark lit up her eyes.

She looked up to him and smiled, a bit mischievously, tracing a fingertip down the hills along the side of his face, "Is that so?  And how special am I, exactly?"

Magus' eyes were slightly dull in their show of hazel, mystified by something only he could recollect.  Perhaps it was the past he'd long wanted to forget, or destroy.  Whichever came first.  They seemed almost sad, melancholic with the way they looked at her, through her almost.  Magus kept a faint wry grin on his expression though and he kept his face parted from hers, but close enough to still talk and listen.

"How special are you?  You might not look it now...but you have the presence of a goddess.  Maybe I'm laying it on a little extravagantly, but it's in all honesty.  And to me, that makes you very special."  Magus's tone was genuine and he meant every word he said, because those traces of astral dust on her could only mean one thing.

The moment seemed to be entirely in her control, about to turn in the direction she desired, until Magus opened his mouth.  Her suspicions were raised by the simple fact that he had chosen a word such as "goddess" to describe her.  In a world where oddities of race and origin were not uncommon, words like "goddess" and "angel" were hardly used as simple descriptors.  And one thing she knew about magicians of any sort was that their favorite hobby, by nature, was to veil the truth.  She knew that her reaction could either be paranoia, or intuition, however, wasn't protecting oneself against perceived danger better than being naive?

She smirked, her lips remaining as close to his as he had come, "And what of you?  You seem to have far more secrets up your sleeve than a simple card trick."

Her words had slurred some, but contained all of the knowing of an inwardly wise individual.  Her arms were now wrapped about his neck, her fingertips sloppily intertwined behind.  

"Maybe it's the wine talking...  But I see that your goodwill toward me may have another intention..."

Whatever the intention was, she couldn't know, perhaps it was pleasant or perhaps it was fiendish, but she was willing to test the waters as he had been for the duration of their time together.

Magus chuckled again warmly and offered another grin.  His usage of the term 'goddess' had been both figurative and literal, but he was a master with words and knew their uses.  He had a feeling that this woman was catching on quickly, but that was to be expected.  To dig a little deeper, it was gradual and sometimes startling, but it may as well be worth it in the end.

"I know a few things you might find interesting.  I could show you more if you let me.  I'm not just a magician," he said candidly.  "I'm a sorcerer, a very powerful one."  His voice was a whisper and his tone was jesting, not even taking what he said seriously.

He wrapped both arms around her now and liked the scent of her skin that it was so close.  The wine sloshing in his brain and guts was seductive and the lights felt like they were dimming around him.  The dance floor was becoming gradually vacant as the crowd thinned.  The music still went on and different tavern goers either left through the doors or stumbled their way upstairs.

"And what intention is that, darling?" he said casually.  "I'm rather enjoying our conversation.  Even if it is the wine talking.  Sometimes the best moments are found beneath a bottle of red."

Magus seemed to be so eloquently talented with words that they cornered her even at her best attempts to uncover the truth that winked at her from beneath.  Unexpectedly a yawn escaped her lips and sent her weary head toward his chest.  Lana remained aware to all the bustle around them, yet her figure was almost entirely reliant on her companion to remain upright.

"I don't know what intentions you possess..." she gazed up at him from her resting place on his shoulder, "But I do know that whatever they are, I am prepared to react accordingly."

One of her hands had slipped from behind his neck as her body drooped and began to finger a seam to his brightly colored attire.  She responded now to his former statement, "You're a sorcerer...  And am I really supposed to believe that?"

It was so ironic that sometimes one could lie to another simply by telling them the truth.  Magus laughed again and held her upright as she seemed dependent on him for support.  He didn't pay any attention to the goings on around him, he just kept dancing.  It wasn't uncommon for folks of Darken Vei to toss around random displays of magic.  He'd seen enough of that to know that even otherworldly drifters were safer there than in most parts of the world.

"I can assure that I mean you no harm, Eleana," he said with nonchalance and wrapped his arms slightly tighter around her.

He seemed far too amused by her question and showed all his teeth when he smiled.  "You don't believe it?" He feigned shock and gasped before softening his expression.  "You should.  Haven't you noticed that we've been dancing on air and not on the ground?" His head motioned for her to look down and showed her that they were a few feet from the ground, though no one else seemed to care, not even the other dancers that remained.  "Do you need more proof?"

Lana nearly scoffed at the parlor trick, though touched by the romanticism of floating on air.  The fact was, there were so many varieties and sources of magic that simple levitation was not a coveted spell possessed only by sorcerers.  Any being capable of wielding magic in some way could perform something so minute.  

She did laugh at his attempt to prove his lie, "I'm sorry.  But even a child could school themselves enough in the ways of magic to perform such a feat without sorcery."

It wasn't that she was trying to be unfriendly, but she knew of far more wondrous abilities that would be considered commonplace to her people.

The couples had left them alone enough during the night to make this a pleasant dance.  However, as people filed in and out of the pub, there were those that had only just begun to enjoy the festivities.  A particular gathering of men who had gone through their third round of ale had fixed their eyes on the back of her milky thighs and what remained of the thin material that once had been a modest garb.  Canis had been deterred by the rustle of a brewing fight, and was keeping his eyes locked on a pair of heated men whose eyes were becoming hazed by testosterone.  Separately, it was none of his business, but in such a little tavern occupied by a mass of drunkards, a single flame could certainly turn into a full blown fire.  None of this could be good for the safety of his Queen.

Lana had fingered a button attached to his clothing so much that it popped off, and she reached down to retrieve it when a calloused hand wrapped itself around her arm.  One of the men who had been watching her had approached, his friends just footsteps behind.  His face was pocked and marked by the sun and reddened further from its normally ruddy color to compliment the fiery orange of his hair.  He was obviously just coming in from a hard days work somewhere, and though it wasn't strong, he smelled of it.  

"I think you've kept her enough from the rest of her admirers." he attempted charm in a most concerning way.

Lana was only too happy to oblige him for a dance.  Magus was bothering her with his double meanings, and they were more than willing to refresh her drink for her.  

She glanced back at Magus as she took the stranger's hand, "I suppose your next trick will have to wait."

Ghanon looked at the man with a discerning quality to his hazel eyes, eyes that flickered like candles.  The man that had interrupted them was too busy smiling in an attempt to impress his partner and his eyes appeared a little stung when they met Ghanon's.  It was almost as if he'd been expecting him, and it was if his eyes were saying, 'It's about time you got here.'  He could laugh at the faint shiver that ran through the stranger, but he said nothing.

When she parted ways with him to dance with the newcomer, Magus simply bowed and said, "As you wish, milady."  And promptly went back to take his seat at the table they'd shared.  The food had been carted away and the party was only just beginning.  He eyed the scuffle that was just starting to pan out and found himself smiling at it.  He could hear them talking, even above the rumbled voices of drunken riff raff.  Then his smile faded as he watched one of them stand up and shove the other out of his seat.  The falling man slurred a yelp and crashed into the table behind him, knocking up rounds of food and beer.  The couple sitting there immediately stood up and were at each other's throats.

Magus physically flinched and his expression was horrified though he smiled within, as the fight began to escalate.  He stayed in his corner, not want to get involved, all the while finding himself laughing as a giant of a man came crashing at his feet, unconscious by the efforts of one of the waitresses that held her dented tray.  He leaned over him and grinned widely.  "Oh what a lovely party this is turning out to be!"  He leaned back immediately as another man was thrown across the room and landed on his table, destroying it with a clamorous smash that sent splinters flying on Magus.  He promptly stood and brushed off his clothing and ducked within half a second a fist that came launched his way.  He tackled the man by the waist and threw him over, leaving more furniture to be wrecked.  "Honestly!" Magus said, indignant and brushed himself off again.

The musicians that were playing music had been preoccupied to continue playing and were doing so furiously, trying to earn their meager pay, but had switched from the soft tune of before to a more lively melody that now suited the rough occasion.  Magus dodged a glass that flew at his head and shattered on the wall behind him.  Already the ruckus was getting worse and he watched with clearly shocked eyes as the stranger that had been dancing with Eleana was soon getting the beating of his life.  Magus winced; he would have thought a man of his size could handle himself better.

He saw someone grab a chair and prepared to collide it into his new found companion's head and he moved with blinding, inhuman speed to reach her in time.  He grabbed the chair and knocked into the drunkard, sending him reeling back.  "You're right, my next trick will have to wait," he said to her.  "Now as much I like the next barroom brawl as anyone, I don't think it would be very prudent if we stay here any longer.  No doubt this will get much worse!"  Just then two bodies went through both windows and one of the waitresses screamed..  He held out a hand for her to take, his eyes desperate and honest.  "Please hurry!  There's a way out the back if you'll just come with me!"

Canis had no sooner seen the two men exchange aggressive gestures than the entire tavern was wrought with pointless fighting.  The two men imparted blows with their burly fists and blood spattered all over the creaking wood floor.  Of course this would be the result of trusting a crazed stranger with choosing their lodging.  It was unfortunate that he could not take charge of his journey with his Queen, but the more important matter now was to see that she was safely escorted away from the ruckus.  Just as he prepared to draw his sword, Magus' form flashed before his eyes somewhere between the mass of thrashing bodies.  This meant that Lana was unsafe...  He thought better of his choice of weapon and instead wielded his fists.  There was no reason to kill here, only to hold back the crowds until they could slip away unseen.  

Canis fought his way through, fists bleeding with a mixture of his own blood and the blood of countless others who found themselves unfortunately in his path to the Queen.  Being decidedly taller than the rest he was able to see the shimmering blonde curls he hunted for between a collection of mousy, dusty scalps.  Before Canis could reach her, Magus had rapidly appeared to shelter her from a blinding blow and lead her through a back entrance.  With a perturbed sigh, Canis diligently made his way after them.


Lana had been enjoying the attentions of the ginger faced blacksmith, as she had established by the black stains on his clothing and hands.  Though, it wasn't long before hell broke loose and she was suddenly swept up by stumbling bodies.  She fell backward onto her bum and nearly found herself crushed beneath them, but found refuge in pulling herself up by the nearby piano.  The pianist at once leaped from his seat and left her with the instruments after exchanging a guilty look with her, and bolted away.  Lana simply felt lucky to have found a more removed place to hide.  She leaned her head down slightly to push away a mess of tangled hair and then glanced up, only to meet eyes with the pointy end of a chair.  Her first instinct was to shield herself, but Magus seemed to materialize from thin air just in time to intercept it and punish the bastard who had attempted the brutality.  She met her gaze with Magus' earnest eyes.

"You're right, my next trick will have to wait," he said to her. "Now as much I like the next barroom brawl as anyone, I don't think it would be very prudent if we stay here any longer. No doubt this will get much worse!"

He was always clever tongued, even in moments of significance.  

"Please hurry! There's a way out the back if you'll just come with me!"

She couldn't imagine why she wouldn't, and gratefully grasped his hand and held tightly to avoid being pulled away by the crowd.

Magus led her out the back passage.  There was a stone staircase that led down to what looked like a basement.  He did not see the companion she had traveled with, the wolfish one that possessed that nifty shapeshifting gift, though he had a feeling he was following them.  He could only expect that much of a loyal companion.  Or was it servant?  Something told him the latter was far more correct than the idea of stranger she met while traveling.  They seemed thick, the two of them.

Magus kept holding her hand as he led her through the series of tunnels.  "This is a nifty entrance the owner uses to bring in stores from the shipping houses.  Call it smuggling if you want, but I find they are very useful for quick exits."  He made a quick left, hoping her companion would catch up to them some time soon.  He'd hate to have to teleport him here if he didn't have to, and more importantly didn't want him to think he was just trying to make off with Eleana.  The man looked like someone to watch out for.

Finally he came upon the hatch he was looking for.  He opened it up on the floor and waited for her to pop through it.  He stayed behind for a while, waiting for Canis to show up.  Well, in the event that he did, Magus ripped off a bit of his scarf and kept it by the hatch opening just before closing it.  A sign for him to follow if he was still inclined to do so.

The hatch led to another tunnel, this, much more linear than the last and finally opened to a grate in the middle of a secluded alleyway.  Magus popped up from the bottom, opening the metal slatted piece and throwing it aside with a loud clang.  He climbed through it and held out his hand for Eleana to take.  It was then that he laughed and realized how close they came to getting their lives beaten in half.

"Well, now, my friend, you do look quite a mess.  When your companion shows up, which I'm sure he will anytime soon, we ought to get you cleaned up.  I may be a wanderer, but I always know of a place to stay in case I cannot travel.  There's an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town not far from here if you would like go to there.  It is a safe place to stay if no one's gotten there first.  Would you like me to take you there?"

Friend....  Lana's cheeks reddened a little at his choice to consider her "friend".  It was a lovely idea...  Though, part of her remained uncertain of his trustworthiness, and so, this feeling of friendship remained unrequited.  She wanted to be his friend...  To imagine that this might be her one companion in this unfamiliar world.  And what an interesting, warm companion he was....  He had shown her more kindness than she would even dare to show herself.  His sincerity, however, was questionable.

Magus mentioned her appearance and undoubtedly had noticed the translucent brownish-grey water that had stained her dress and traveled in droplets down the length of her long legs.  One of her sleeves was loosely slipping off of her shoulder where a tear had formed from snagging it on something as they moved through what seemed to be a short labyrinth of tunnels.  She hardly cared, for the dress had long been far from its former glory.  

"Oh," she sighed in relief and felt a wave of gratitude overflow from herself, "I would adore it."

Not moments later, Canis arrived in his wolf form and slipped his bushy head underneath her hand.  She knelt down and touched her nose to his, and then spied the bloody paws that remained from the fight.  She gently outstretched her fingertips to delicately touch the raw areas and helped them heal quickly.  Once he was rejuvenated, she climbed atop his large back and leaned forward onto his more than accommodating large body.  She positioned her chin in her hands, her elbows resting atop his shoulders.

"Lead the way." she smiled.

Though he wasn't being entirely honest with her, that did not mean that he was not being sincere.  Magus could have just as easily left her in the tavern but he didn't feel it was very wise to do so. She seemed out of place here and he could only have faint feelings of pity, though he had a feeling she wouldn't want it.  Newcomers weren't always treated fairly in foreign lands and often they were caught up in the trouble that roiled so near.  And though he scented traces of divinity on her, having the familiarity of another otherworldly being very much like himself.

He smiled when her friend finally caught up, though he didn't recall catching his name.  He would have to speak with him later when he had the chance.  But first things first, the cabin.  Magus turned in the direction of the path with which he knew it was and bounded off that way in a light jog, then walking normally.  The way out of town was not a very long one.  Small settlements in Darken Vei tended to stay just that way: small.

Magus paused, making sure the way was clear and stalked off to where a thicket of trees resided.  It was about half a mile walk but well worth it when they came upon a small cabin just as he had promised.  He motioned for them to stay behind a bit while he walked around the building, making sure that the coast was clear and peering through the dusty windows where  he saw that no one was inside.  "Alright, c'mon then."  He pushed open the stuck door with his shoulder and led them through.

Compared to the outside, the inside was relatively clean and well-supplied.  A fireplace resided to the far back, at the rear and two bedrooms to the right.  There was a wash room as well that was tucked away in the corner, guarded by a curtain.  Magus, still slightly tipsy from the drinking closed the door behind them and shut the door till it was stuck again.  He walked over to where a candle was and a green spark alit the wick, spreading light throughout the room.

He took the flame and set afire a fresh log in the fireplace which made even more light.  "Sorry there's not much privacy, but there's a washroom in there," he pointed the way.  "And a room to sleep in there.  Make yourselves at home for the time being."

Lana's wolfish companion bounded after Magus' brightly colored cloak, the tail of which was the last thing he could see before eventually meeting him at their destination.  He carried Lana's reposed form gently into the cabin, and as they entered she slowly pulled herself up from her lazy position.  She was in awe of the quaint, rugged beauty of it.  And it looked as if it had hardly been lived in.

As she slipped off of Canis she spun around a few times to look at the new temporary home.  

"Is this yours?" she kept her eyes locked on everything as she skipped over to the wash "room" and ran her hands along the sheer paper of the screen from the other side, projecting a lithe shadow against it as she moved.

Lana was eager to remove the dirty clothes she had been wearing for what seemed like ages and cast the rags to the floor.  Leaning over to peer at the water in the large antique-style porcelain tub she discovered that the water was piping hot, to her happiness.  She stripped a piece of fabric from her dress and tied up her hair, dipping one of her feet into the water with all consuming pleasure.  Finally.... a place that felt like home.

Magus bowed, welcoming them into the room and knew that the place would be suitable for them for now.  He didn't know how long they would be able to stay here, but he knew there was no other place for them go outside of another drunken tavern and possibly more danger and confusion that was really needed.  And to be honest, he didn't like the thought of having more people around than necessary.  For that, the cabin was just perfect.

"Not exactly.  I found it a few years ago and wandered here whenever I was in the area.  Nobody has lived in it since, but I feel that isn't any reason not to keep it maintained.  So...I suppose you could say I'm borrowing it."  Magus looked around the place and started to take off his jacket and the scarves that were getting to be just a bit much, stripping down to just his sleeveless tunic trousers and boots.

He looked over absently, as his hands moved up one of the floorboards, and took a double take when he finally noticed that she was getting in the tub.  He said nothing and watched her curiously, like it was something that was done everyday.

Lana had eventually adjusted to the heat enough to slip both of her legs into the steaming water.  She found a perfectly laid out towel balancing on the rim of the tub and dipped it into the water, wiping away the caked filth a little at a time.  She wasn't quite ready to submerge herself, as there were little wounds here and there to attend to.  Although, they were hardly a bother, as she healed them one by one.  She felt her energy begin to rejuvenate and was amazed at what a silent, safe abode could do for the battered spirit.  

After an awkward pause in the conversation, her little voice penetrated the space between them, and she uttered two words she had been afraid to speak since meeting him, "....Thank you..."

Lana soaked the cloth once more and ran it down a glimmering single line of white jewels that traced the indent of her spine down to the small space above the rising curve of her smooth backside.  At the end was a several peaked star shape, a stormy blue, with an intense jagged crack nearly entirely splitting the diamond.  Unfortunately, this damage she could not heal.


The wolf wandered over to the fireplace and settled himself down in front of it, yawning and stretching his gargantuan paws into the air.  It had been a very long journey indeed.

Ghanon watched the large wolfish one she traveled with.  He seemed far too tired and content by the fire to be bothered to talk with.  The rug by the fire made the perfect bed for the large, oversized animal.  If that's what he was after all.

Ghanon looked over to where she bathed again and said absently, "You're...welcome."  He stared at her back, watching her as he watched anyone, with intent, curiosity and an open mind.  He watched her with winter night candle eyes, and they slowly changed to silver, shimmering like light on water until they glinted like polished metal.  He was aware of the change and knew it was going to be soon before he had to reveal all of himself to her.  She was going to find out soon enough.

"You know...it's funny.  I don't usually have visitors," he tried to say conversationally, but he couldn't peel his eyes away from her.  There was something unusually alluring about the way she moved.  Yes, he'd seen more beautiful women before.  But he didn't always have the luck to encounter a goddess, if she truly be a goddess.  He still couldn't be sure about that.  But he kept his vigilance silent nonetheless.  There was something unusual about that star shape.  It captivated him, kept him silent.

Canis was thankful for the softness of the rug he laid upon, his shoulders sinking into the mat easily.  His wolf form was his original body, and nothing felt quite as natural.  The musculature of a canine was far more pliable, useful in multiple situations of survival, while a human form only benefited him as a believable disguise in a variety of worlds.  And it was so wonderful to be at ease for a change...  The white of the pad beneath him reminded him of the snow that had once comprised all that he called home.  For a moment, he allowed his weary eyes to close providing him with the comforting darkness he needed.

Lana listened to Magus with interest, now allowing her hair to fall freely after having gone over her body.  Everything he had said to her throughout the day began to flow together, each peculiar comment sifting through her mind.  Here, they had come together, somehow, each with no home to speak of, no stability.  They shared a commonality in being misfits.  She thought about her reasons for running, for lying, for never settling in one place.  And it seemed that never once had Magus differed from her in his own description of his life.  He was on the run....  There had to be no other explanation for his behavior and his lack of interest in providing detail about himself.  Unless, she was entirely mistaken.

"I'm not surprised you don't entertain guests very often."  She paused briefly, and in a moment of spontaneity, continued, "What are you running from?"  She had blurted it, unintentionally phrasing it as if she were certain that was the explanation to his nomad nature.

By this time she had nearly fully turned to face him, finding it quite normal for her celestial body to be unashamedly naked in the presence of another.

Ghanon did not need to grin and the liquor was getting to his head.  Whereas earlier in the evening the booze was sloshing in his head, now he was feeling the simmering effects, the languidness, the warmth and he felt his heart beat a little faster.  He might have been otherworldly, but his heart would always beat for the eternity of his existence.

His eyes were infinity as he gazed at her.  The green that rimmed the silver shifted like emerald fire, and it seemed like time slowed so negligently.  Perhaps it was his doing, perhaps it wasn't, he was a little too drunk to tell.  Maybe it was just the liquor that was already drowning him in a sea of such slowness.  He didn't always drink this much, and when he did it was all for a reason.  But he should know the old adage enough.  Where Ghanon of Dragolir was concerned, reason tended to...well, fly away.

A smirk became him, but he couldn't help himself as he leaned forward to get a better look at her, fascinated by the sight before him.  His breath too was slow, even his heart sped up.  He question caught him off guard and he knew the silence would be too suspicious.

"Running..." he paused.  "I'm not...running from anything.  I...just like to travel," he said casually.  "I've always liked to travel."  He didn't want her to turn away and let his eyes look over her.  He viewed her with no shame, no reservations and found himself standing curiously, eyes looking at her as if she were a piece of artwork, observing her with fascination, with shimmering eyes, and fighting the desire to walk over to her.  "Why do you ask?"

One of her lithe hands reached up to fiddle with the tip of a curl near one of her breasts, while the other hand rested over her smooth, sloping abdomen.  She found herself suddenly distracted by the glimmer in his eyes, the attentiveness with which he watched her.  She thought she had caught the faintest movement in them, like something alive, flickering behind the lenses.  

Her gaze narrowed.  She was unimpressed with his stammering reply.  Now, he looked at her was as if he were scrutinizing every minute detail of her figure.  Lana wasn't certain of his purpose for watching her so.  Instinctively, she assumed a noble air and leaned her weight onto one hip.  Her pride as as a Queen had never quite left her, and she now stood tall against whatever criticism might've existed within his mind.  

Her voice was low and breathy, near a whisper but elevated by the pure solitude around them, "I ask because I know a poorly constructed lie when I hear one."

At this point she grew bored of what seemed like a silly attempt to pry open his hardened shell, and distracted herself by running the cloth over her eyes and along her cheeks.

His eyes didn't change and now he was looking through her with the eyes that had seen worlds die, and stars cry, and empires fall.  He may have not been a mortal man but he knew the desires of mortal men.  They were often easy to duplicate, easy to manipulate, and easy to dominate to whatever the manipulator willed.  He felt vulnerable, cornered now as his eyes flickered and he neared her now, unafraid now.  For fear had never been any good to him.

"Lies are two way roads, darling," he said.  He reached the shower curtain, acutely changing the details of his form, from black hair to blonde, skin paling and face appearing regal and princely as it had been since the dying days through the Void, the face of a young man, but not unwise to the tides of time.  Ghanon grinned as the firelight hit him more sternly now, accentuating his true features.  He had nothing to hide from her and the tunic he wore shimmered away to the musculature of a vulnerable man.

"You can see through my lies.  Most cannot.  For this I am impressed.  As I'm sure you know, my name is not Magus.  I will tell you my real name if you tell me yours."  He didn't like having to reveal himself, but he knew that if he didn't, she probably never would.  An eye for an eye, as the saying went.  But his eyes never left her form, looking at her as if possessed by a hunger.

"Lies are two way roads, darling," he said.

A deep blush pigmented her cheeks at his intentional exposure of her own façade.  It was with confident ease that he approached her, a confidence that had been born of his previous vulnerability.  It was an intimidating change to see in him, but even more disturbing was the darkness that seemed to reach into oblivion residing in his fixed stare.  Her body was a sacred vessel given her for the sole purpose of bringing goodness to the world, and thus, she had never known the shame of mortals.  Now, everything seemed to amplify this new found feeling of humiliation.  If it were anyone else, she would remain oblivious to it.  But Magus....  Whatever power he possessed over her in that moment seemed to demean the pride she held for her astral embodiment.

"You can see through my lies. Most cannot. For this I am impressed. As I'm sure you know, my name is not Magus. I will tell you my real name if you tell me yours."

 Astonishment overcame her and she couldn't help but step backward as the individual she had come to be familiar with morphed into his original mold.  Not only had he been dishonest about his past...  He had assumed an entirely different existence....

The tunic melted away to reveal flesh much like her own, though somehow different from her own iridescent, glowing skin.  He was much more handsome this way, and yet as pleasurable as it was to look on him, she could not at first bring herself to meet his eyes.  A new instinct to cover her most vulnerable places motivated her to lift the small cloth over her bosom.

She then inhaled and lifted her face to cast a sharp eye on him, "I will not unveil fallacies which do not exist.  My name, is my name."

Briefly she regained her courage and spoke once more, "But you have revealed yourself to be deceitful, of your own accord.  It was your choice.  And so, you owe me a name."

"No, no, no, no, darling.  That's not the way this goes.  You brought up the subject of lies.  You wouldn't unless you too...had something to hide."  If he was going to reveal himself, it was only right that she too be stripped away of the guise she had created to protect herself.  He knew he was a liar, and a bastard, and the spurned son of a life that didn't want him.  He knew all these things, and made no effort to hide them.  Especially now since there was no reason to.  Ghanon drew himself closer, spreading an arm onto the wall beside him and he shook his head as he had spoken.

His eyes implored her, begged her to strip away that pride he'd sensed since the first moment he met her.  He knew there had been something wrong.  Now was the time to be open.  He did not want to force her if he didn't have to.  His other hand reached out, to her face, gently, holding it there to look at him for as long as she could, daring her to do so.

"It too was your choice to continue speaking of them.  Indeed your name is your name, the name you've always known.  But I know it is not the name I've known, the lie that you've told me.  You're guilty.  I can see it in your eyes.  If you were as prideful as you think, you would have never allowed yourself to sink so low as to commit an act of lying in the first place.  But what you told me, you seemed to be wanting the protection of thy self," he said softly, lowly.

His free hand came out and slowly, gently pulled away the cloth from her breasts.   "I do not intend to hurt you, if that is what you fear.  I want only the truth.  And I will reveal of me...all that you seek."

Her heart was throttled by palpitations instantaneously at his touch.  No matter how she wanted to pull away, to escape, she had been drawn in by him from moment one.  She had  been made a fool by her own naiveté.  And she wasn't sure what infuriated her more;  his arrogant demands, or her own blindness that had lead her to this crossroad.  Whoever he was, he thought he could control her, and she was in no place to be manipulated as a piece to his game for his own amusement.  

 "You may ramble on," she spat the words with particular emphasis on his former alias, "Magus...  But I assure you, you will not part from this satisfied."

He continued to speak, "I do not intend to hurt you, if that is what you fear. I want only the truth. And I will reveal of me...all that you seek."

He was brazen, as if he could drink her in, absorb her image if ever he felt inclined to.  He proved this was his intention by removing that miniscule barrier she had futilely brought between them.  Her cheeks burned with indignation, her blood sizzling beneath her skin.  Lana let her eyes roam his face as if she were ascertaining how much of a threat he presented, and a small smile drifted upward while one hand tossed away the cloth, and the other tip toed her fingertips along his face.

"I will admit one truth: It is unfortunate that you do not know who I am."

It was then that she delivered the blow, a seemingly insignificant collision of her hand to his face, the kind any damsel might resort to in a fit of insult.  But the impact surged with impossible power, the kind that would send him stumbling several steps backward, though not enough to cause injury.

She knelt down and cupped her hands beneath the luminous water and brought a small waterfall to her face, allowing the droplets to cascade down the hills and valleys of her physique back into the bathtub.  She then proceeded to step out onto the wood floor.

She could hit him, she could insult him and evade him for as long as she wanted, but he knew he was right.  And it was because she hit him that he knew he had hit a sore spot.  Struck a part of her that she did not want revealed.  But she did not understand and thought she was defensive at every turn it was only natural.  And he couldn't blame her for it.  If her strike had been stong, surely his would have been as well, but there wasn't any need to hit her.

He relented and took a step away letting her get out of the bathtub, leaving a trail of water everywhere.  He still looked at her is if he'd known her whole life.  But it wasn't like him to forget a name.  That pride...that terrible pride that tried to protect her from herself.

"A lucky blow, to be sure.  And not unexpected.  Very well, keep your name."  He had other ways of find out for himself, though he made that known to himself only.  "I don't suppose you've ever heard of the slain god Dragolir...have you?"

She leaned downward to lift the soiled piece of clothing from the ground, now soaked in bath water and still quite ruined from wear.  It was returned to its former place after a moment of reflection.  There was a soft, downy black blanket strewn across the couch that sat directly across from the fire, where Canis peacefully slept.  Lana crossed the room leaving wet footsteps behind and wrapped herself comfortingly by the blanket.  With her back turned to him, she was able to momentarily release the defensive guard she had held with him.  Almost unnoticeably, her shoulders quivered and then stopped.  It had taken much for her to withstand a direct accusation.  The cabin seemed less like a safe haven now, and once again, she felt utterly, and painfully alone.

The fireplace winked at her with flames that seemed to want to climb around the outside of the chimney.

"I have."

Her answers were short, her displeasure tangible in her tone.

Ghanon watched her walk away with cold eyes, the flame flickering.  Something in her reaction disappointed him.  She had so much potential, yet perhaps his expectations were overzealous.  He had a tendency to do that sometimes.  But he was persistent could wait for infinity if he had to get an answer out of her.  Eventually she would relent, she had to!  Nothing worth doing was ever easy, he reminded himself and took an unnecessary breath as he stood by her.

"Then you should know the story of his death.  It is not easy to kill a god.  And least of all the god of change.  But it is more effective if you are a god yourself.  He was a...different sort of being.  Not like other Architects of the universe.  He was an embodiment of chaos, carnage, destruction.  He brought change, big or small to the mortals of all the planes.  When he planned a plan to plunge the universe into hell, the other gods came together and thought it was a good idea to put an end to him.  They killed him, murdered him.  Now I ask you, was that a wise decision?  Was it justified at all?"

The flame continued to flicker, emitting an overpowering heat.  There was a thin layer of moisture settling on her skin from the sweltering flames that made her twinkle as if she had been sprinkled with fine silver dust.  Her expression remained stoic and reflective as he spoke, her thoughts heavy with the gravity of his words.

The tale he recited was one that had been prevalent among the myths told to infinite generations of her people.  In fact, it had held the most import among her people, as the tale of Dragolir's death only solidified their belief in the necessity of harmony in existence.   Lana was far too young, despite her awesome length of life, to have come close to touching the time frame in which everything had occurred.  But like any bloody battle, or the overthrowing of a monarch, it was significantly marked in history.  

She cast her eyes over to him to read the impassioned expression on his face.  It was evident that this story held a great deal of importance to him, too.  Her shoulders peeked out of the blanket cocoon, her round breasts baring the tiniest amount of cleavage, looking nestled in the black, fuzzy fabric.   She gazed at him serenely as he made his case for Dragolir, a character so far removed by time that he seemed like the adversary from an age old fairy tale.  Anyone who knew her identity would expect that she would argue for the side of the counsel of gods who had decided Dragolir's fate, being that she was inherently responsible for providing balance to all life in her realm.  However, there was a reason that her Kingdom had been so demolished.  Perhaps, in a manner of thinking, she had been an unwitting harbinger of a portion of Dragolir's dream in her alternative universe.  After all, balance was never meant to be truly constant.  And all life had the chance to play a part in a shifting of the worlds.  

She turned to face him more, half of her face cast in stark shadow, a mirror of her inward conflict.

"Perhaps not justified." She replied calmly, "Born of fear. But fear is rarely justified."

History was such a wide-snapping thing, and it was a dream Ghanon had dreamed before, back to a time and a place when dreams had once meant something to him.  It was not easy define a god's destruction.  Not easy to tell when it happened and where.  Only that it happened, and when events such as that occur, it tips the balance of the universe in a manner which affects all sorts of worlds.  It was so long ago that Ghanon would not have been surprised if she did not know the story well.  The dead god's image was suppressed and wiped off from the face of any and all worlds, his memory a dream of a shadow at your door.  A door that only Ghanon had bothered to open.

The story suddenly made him silent and found he had to look away as his eyes set upon his hands, the hands that had killed, had hurt, had destroyed, and made change time and time again.  He smirked when she answered, feeling so surreal and that liquor swim down on his thoughts again, and again time felt so languid.  He turned and gazed upon her with lazy, candle eyes again, eyes that could flicker into a silver inferno in less than a moment's notice.

"Actions born of fear..." he mimicked her like a parrot.  His left hand gripped his right wrist tightly.  "That's a new one," he admitted and smiled at her, a grin wry with amusement and such liquefied attraction.  He stalked a little closer and sat across from her on the couch.  "Fear is never justified.  Fear is a poor reason for anything.  And I do not believe his death would make a pint of difference to the worlds they govern.  They made a mistake.  Can a god, any god, make a mistake?  There was one thing they overlooked.  Me.  I am Ghanon, the son of Dragolir."

Perhaps it was a half-truth, but Dragolir had been more of a father to him than his own father had been and the words felt right to say them.  Ghanon looked at her again with that curious, wandering gaze and asked her.  "Do you know what is like to lose everything you've ever loved?  Have it ripped away from you?"

Lana had nearly forgotten about the amount of drink they had consumed earlier.  Her emotions took control of her body and purified her mind to a temporary clarity only produced by the rush of adrenaline.  By the undertone of anger in his mannerisms, the bitter micro-expressions in his face and the intermediate transitions to weariness, she could see he was not quite as unaffected as she.  Perhaps it was because he had nothing to be anxious over in her presence, and she had her whole world to protect against his prying.  

"Fear is never justified. Fear is a poor reason for anything."

His words stung her, the first of an onslaught of painful pricks resulting from his bitterness.  Fear was the only thing that gave her life.  If she were to ever be unafraid of exposing who she was, she would be stoned, murdered, disposed of.  She had already known the devastation of rejection, lack of understanding, and fear had become as necessary to her awakening alive every morning as taking that first deep inhale that stirred her from her dreams.  He could not convince her that fear was not a necessary evil...

He continued to echo the past thoughts of her own mind, but soon brought her wandering mind to an abrupt halt, "Can a god, any god, make a mistake? There was one thing they overlooked. Me. I am Ghanon, the son of Dragolir."

The confession was less frightful than surprising.

As he spoke, his burgeoning power was almost plainly visible.  His aura made her tremble with both indomitable desire and apprehension, the two polarized feelings feeding off of one another.  But if nothing else about her emanated strength, her face remained of steel.

And then it happened.  As he poured out more of himself, he unintentionally pierced her with the most innocent of questions.

"Do you know what is like to lose everything you've ever loved? Have it ripped away from you?"

It was then that her solid image broke, and she turned her face away to fully fall under shadow.  Her jaw was set against a reply, in case she could not withhold the confession that remained suppressed under good sense.

After a difficult moment, she released the air that had been imprisoned tightly within her chest, and her bosom fell, "You must realize, Ghanon..." the name dripped from her tongue like liquid ice, "That all us of share a common difficulty.  Error.  You would be selfish to think that there is no one else out there in the world who might share your pain."

She still did not meet his gaze.

Valdric's eyes...they were so filled with the emptiness of disappointment, void of anger, of pain, of shock.  Perhaps if there had been any other look in the emperor's eyes, he might have been able to take it, been capable of forgiving the man that had cast him through the Void, cast out to die in the vacuum of the universe.  But the disappointment had struck him like being stabbed with a blade forged at the heart of a star.  It cut and dug deep into the core of his soul, of his mind.  It was a gaze that he could never forget, despite all the effort he put towards doing so.

Ghanon had come closer to her now, having bared himself and perhaps even her with that simple question.  He knew it struck deep by the way she reacted, turning away from him.  He set his jaw and reached for her face again.  He could easily have struck her with the anger that surged through him at the memory of his father that flashed before his eyes.  But he also felt cold suddenly, his skin shivered despite the fireplace heat.

Outside the snowfall had long since began, just as he predicted, though the wind was starting to pick up and the snow flurried down to the ground.  Ghanon did need to look out the window to know that the snow would only get worse.  It always did in Darken Vei and with being so close to the mountains, it could very well turn into a terrible blizzard.

Ghanon was gentle in his touch and said lowly, softly, "Look at me.  Don't be afraid to look at me.  You would be a fool to think that I don't know that.  I know just as well as anyone.  The things I have seen, I can give my sight to you.  But even though I know, it doesn't dull the pain any less.  My life is gone because of my own foolish errors that I would give the galaxy for if I could only undo.  But I cannot.  If you know pain, then you can understand.  Don't you understand?"  He leaned over her, his other hand held out to grasp hers.  It was a terrible feeling to admit the fact of his own mistake, but he was not sure he would be able to go into detail if she asked him of it.  But first he had to know if she understood, and that would make all the difference.

His touch was icy cold, the touch of a dead man's fingertips.  Perhaps it was only a side effect of being truly dead inside.  She wasn't sure.  She wasn't sure about much of him, only that he forced her to linger in the groundless space between the ache of ripping open her chest to divulge her bleeding heart, or the pain of suppressing the explosive secrets that would eventually ignite against the pressure.  She hated that he would not let her regain herself, instead closing in on her like four solid walls threatening to crush her under their weight.  Contradictory to what boiled inside of her, his voice was soothing with an undercurrent of dark electricity.  What could he possibly stand to gain from abusing her this way?  Did he wish to plunge the both of them into the depths of despair if only for the sake of remaining covered in the shit of their own disgusting existence?  Whatever he had done...  it had been brutal, it had been bloody, of this she was assured simply by the sizzling fury that lurked just behind his eyes.  And a darkness passed over her once it registered that they were no different from one another.  She was a disgrace to her purpose, a malformed creation set in the direction of greatness only to stumble on defective legs miles away from the finish line.  And he wished to immerse himself in this?  Roll around in it as if it were the only way to feel alive?

Her breath came rapidly now, but her lips remained steady, and her hand balled into a fist within his own much larger grasp.  

"Your sight would do nothing for me." She whispered bitterly, her eyes welling against the impossible force of his influence, "For I have seen enough to haunt thousands of future lifetimes.  And each of my lives will most certainly be tainted.  I can understand, Ghanon."

Another breath escaped her, releasing some of the tension in her throat, "I do understand....Ghanon."

What had burned in his eyes was a mystery altogether.  If she stared into them long enough, she too might be cast away into the sea of anger, bliss, rage, love, lust, danger, depression, pain, all the emotions that he'd carried with him like an invisible boulder that weighed him down try as he might to leave it behind.  There was a purpose to everything he did.  Or at least he tried to convince himself in this.  Perhaps he had reveled in chaos so long that he'd become the very embodiment of something he thought he could control.  But unlike others, he'd learn not to fear it so anymore and wanted her not to fear it as well.

Ghanon lingered close to her face and his hand had closed in over hers just as she balled her fist in his hand.  He gripped her hand firmly but gently as to not crush it with his own strength.  Corrothim blood was strong in him still, and his heart was pounding furiously in his chest, so much that his skin warmed the instant it touched hers and the fire was no help either.  The grip showed his relation to her, tried to show her his empathy and that in loss, they were one.

His other hand brushed a thumb on her cheek and he saw the tears well up in her eyes.  A tear of his own had broke away and was already trailing down his own face, unable to contain it.  The emotional volatility was not one he'd experienced in almost ten thousand star spans.  But time was a weightless thing to him, as relative as reality.  But right now he was feeling all too real.  "That is all I ask of you," he whispered, close to her lips before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, kissing her softly.

Her lungs expanded as if she had been holding her breath under water, and had only just come up to breath.  The pressure of his lips against her own caused her mouth to naturally part and accept the fullness of his kiss.  He tasted hot, like cinnamon, every pore in his body now radiating warmth into her.  The blanket around her was becoming a prison of intense heat, but her senses were diverted away from the minor concern.  Instinctively, the hand that had been held so firmly within his embrace tore from its prison and flung backward against the couch beside her temple.  Futilely, she arched her back into the cushions, pressing, compressing, wishing to melt into the fibers of the furniture and disappear.   But it was pointless, now, to pretend that it wasn't wonderful, that it wasn't blissfully masochistic.  Her arm relaxed against the cushion, drifting downward to her side as the rest of her body became fluid to his direction.  The single tear that had stained his skin rapidly escaped along the peeks of his face only be consumed in the meeting of their mouths, the salty taste greeting her tongue and immediately fading.  

Lana's mass of tight curls provided a full frame in which she nearly disappeared, the strands now and then caressing the supple skin of his face.  She found her heart was slowing to a lullaby beat, and she was grateful for the relief it brought to her gradually loosening figure.

He pressed against her further until she responded to him.  The kiss gradually deepened from the softness he introduced as the breathe was nearly sucked out of him at every stroked.  When she relented to it, perhaps the kiss had been a little rougher than usual, but he went ahead and wrapped her in his embrace.  The taste of her was warm, sweet and salty all at the same time, tasting cool like fresh water that quickly warmed when her tongue struck his.  He was enticed and he pulled away briefly to take a breath before pressing his mouth to hers once more, he couldn't get enough.

Ghanon pulled an arm to go around his neck and melted into her form.  He leaned into her and let his hand reach out to feel along her skin, the old fear of touching her vanishing in an instant and he felt along the tip of her exposed breast and up along her arms.  He kissed along her jaw and neck, and inhaled her the scent of her flesh there, getting a high by the smell of her sweat, and he sighed against her, unable to get enough of that either.

It was a good thing that Ghanon had wrapped one of her slender arms about his neck, and she held tightly to him.  The settee was hardly sizeable enough to support one of them, and as he took freedoms to taste her, his rigor was gradually sending them to the floor.  At first, she attempted to secure them by gripping her small hand around the cushion, but it was a feeble attempt at best against their vigorous movements with one another.  They sloped down onto the wood floor with the blanket half caught on the couch, the other half still managing to conceal most of her nude form.  The jewels that followed the curvature of her spine pinged against the solidity of the ground.  Her emotions soaring, she felt herself smile and gave out a small laugh at the predicament.  Ghanon remained the dominant, having landed softly atop her.  Her fingers explored the silken fibers of his hair, gripping lightly as he found new tender areas.  While he kissed the vulnerable areas of her neck, a noise much like a kitten's cry escaped her lips.  She responded well to his touch, finding that her hands roamed his muscular frame of their own free will.  His god-like body was comforting and safe to her, a strength to cling to in her state of oblivion.

All of his emotions, swirled like a hurricane, caught up in the tumult of their actions as well as the storm that went on inside his head.  He didn't know what to think or what to feel.  Making love had always been so physical for him, with no room for emotions, no time to give thought to himself.  He did it based on necessity to solidify or execute a change in another.  And never had he prepared to do so after exposing so much of his past.  Even if a lot of it had been vague, merely referencing to it was enough to make him burn in madness.   Here was another that understood him, or at least said so.  But her physical reaction was enough to tell him that his interpretation had been an accurate one and he did not wish to squander that reaction.  He still did not know who she was, but perhaps it would be easier to find out if she continued to relent.

His heart was pounding fast and the clothing he had worn had shimmered away a long time ago, though he made no note of it and was sure she was too distracted to say anything.  He slipped beneath the blanket with her almost as if he needed to be closer to her than he already had been. Though his body was warm as he caressed her, the pit of his stomach grew cold with fear, though fear of what, he didn't know.  Perhaps it was the fear of knowing that was what scared him the most.

Ghanon gave a faint chuckle and buried his face in her hair as he kissed her jaw and remained steady as their lips met.  His right eye opened and shot an eye at Canis who was still asleep by the fire and grinned a little at the thought that the wolf hadn't yet been awakened.  But his attention fully remained on her and his breath shuddered when their bodies locked together.

A part of her felt ridiculous for giving way to his advances.  Perhaps after all of this, he would think of her as conquered land, and it would be revealed that his tortured story was in actuality a clever ploy perfectly designed for the naïve, lost little goddess she was.  Maybe she was simply desperate to be touched, roamed, even abandoned afterward.  Love and hate often were two sides of the same coin.  Why couldn't pain and pleasure also be?  

But she chose, for this moment, to believe that what they shared was entirely wonderful.  It didn't take much to convince her of how strongly she craved the caress of his lips on the rounded curve of her ample breasts.  He slipped beneath the blanket with ease and she felt shrouded by his warm, protective physique.  Her plentiful bosom pressed against his bare chest while the remaining halves of their bodies collided and soon glided together in one fluid motion.  She felt him become a part of her, invading the invisible barrier of inhibition that had separated them before.  She made yet another noise and buried her face into his impossibly wonderful neck to conceal the tears that finally threatened to flow.  Guilt, satisfaction, greed, desire, and the need for any affection.  They all coexisted at the same moment within her, none of her feelings able to be reconciled with the others.  But it didn't matter much now.  What had begun had to be finished, and she desperately wanted the experience to come to its full fruition.

She parted her damp eyes from their warm hiding place and looked up at him between dewy lashes.  He brought her such a mixture of ecstasy and misery, but she wanted it to go on, and she cried out his name with just as much undecided sentiment.

If she had trepidations in thought about the moment, she was not alone.  Ghanon could just as easily let himself believe that she was as innocent as she appeared.  Maybe she was just like him in that she could forget herself for a moment and didn't care about the heart of another.  He knew the kind of person she was, but he couldn't say the same for her.  For all he knew, he may just as easily have been manipulated by her.  But it was a thought he didn't like lingering on, he'd opened up old wounds that he'd worked long to bury beneath his own subconscious and didn't want them to stay open longer than they had to.

Ghanon let his lips linger by her chest, unleashing a languid moan as he paced himself.  Though his body never tired, there were times when his mind did, and the release, the distraction of shrouding with another was very much needed for himself.  And for the first time in almost forever it seemed that he was at peace, with himself and the universe, if only for a moment.  He didn't know her name and only breathed the lie she had told him against her ear, hotly and looked at her with sincerity.

"Tell me your name," he implored in a heavy breathing whisper.  "I must know."

Their heated recreation had distracted them enough that the howling outside the cabin hadn't been noticed until they lay in the silent aftermath of their love making.  Feathery white powder danced outside the few windows that periodically decorated the thick walls.  The temperature was lowering, and Lana felt comforted by the arms that held her steadily.  

The sound of his labored breathing was music to her ears.  She lifted her fingertips to tenderly sift a few strands of his pale blonde hair away from his forehead.  Her smile was genuinely caring as she tucked the tress behind one of his ears.  But it was quickly replaced by a look of concern.

Again, he selfishly demanded of her an answer to the one question that put tension in the air between them.  A heat swelled up within her and expanded to her palpitating heart.  Holding the settee for balance she was at once sitting erect again, gathering some of the blanket close to her to ward off a bit of the icy air.  She left enough for him to remain warm, though why it mattered to her she was oblivious to.  For a  long period of time, she gazed down at her motionless hands as if by doing so, a plan to escape this treachery he'd committed would form.  

Her brow was pinched, and finally, after several shallow breaths, she spoke, "I am as much to blame for being a part of this as you are."

Her violet eyes, wrought with sadness, traveled upward again, "I should have known you would do anything to find out who I am.  I only ask that you spare me the humiliation of seeing you again.  And if you have the decency in you, that you'll keep the knowledge to yourself."

He had no decency, nor pride, nor shame.  And felt none when she pulled away from him.  He looked at her with silver eyes filled with that tumult that raged inside him.  And that thought of being manipulated once again slithered its way back into his mind.  He frowned at her, not understanding exactly what had just happened.  But it didn't take long for him to realize that she wouldn't be relenting anytime soon.

Ghanon kept his expression stoic and he sighed before releasing a small grin.  A small part of him felt betrayed even for he had given so much and she so little.  Tendrils of anger seeped through his chest from that fear in his gut, but he shoved it away as best he could.  He may have threatened whatever trust had occurred between them, if any at all, but he would leave it at that and he sat to the side, looking at her piercingly in her nakedness.

"No, milady.  Do not bother trying to save your pride.  All the blame is on me, for it is I that seduced your innocent, innocent heart," he said with biting sarcasm and coldness.  The words were vaguely pained but he doubted very much that she'd care to pick up on it.  "You do not know the full extent of my power, to think that this was the best I could do.  I could rip the information from your skull when you least expect it...  But no, I opened up myself to you and you, so coldly, so cruelly believe that it was I that manipulated you."  He may have exaggerated in that ripping information from the skull part, but he had his ways in obtaining information through subterfuge.  He really didn't want to have to do that if he didn't have to, he would have preferred if she could tell him, for people were so vulnerable as they dreamt.  Still the pain at having been so blindingly betrayed by her remained.  Perhaps the stupidity had lied almost fully with him, for he had believed that if he bared himself she might too.

He felt the pain within her, had known it through her touch and the way she'd clung to him, had called his name, had left her eyes moist with sadness.  It was ironic in a way to suddenly feel lied to, for he was a natural liar himself, but in the one instance that he'd been honest in his existence, it all backfired on him, like getting caught up in a blast from a dying star.

"I will keep the knowledge, and among that, my presence with you.  I cannot take that risk now that you know who I am.  I have a feeling you will be seeing me more and more.  So keep your hallowed pride, it's the only thing you will ever have if you keep pushing people away.  Those that want only to comfort you in that pain that I know is there."  He had spoken softly, and not without bitterness.  He brushed off what blanket she left him and placed it on her, gently and almost mockingly, but peered at her with a softened expression.  "Your shroud of dignity, darling, because it seems that's what you want most, not the warmth of another.  You seem to want....to be alone now, so I'm going to lie down in the other room, but before I go, would at least answer one question: Why is it so important to you?"  His silver eyes were calmed, but gazed into her with the sincerity of the question.  That was the least she could do for him and hoped against all dashed hope that she might at least answer that.

The way he acted, in light of their profound intimacy, disheartened her.  The life within her wilted as he delivered a passive aggressive outpouring of his own pain and misunderstanding.  It was clear his desire to draw her near had stemmed from a source of destruction rather than the tenderness she had clung to.  She bloomed in his care, if only for an inconceivably minute moment in time; a rare accomplishment that would not have been achieved by men with lesser qualities than his own.  The only other who ravished her body as Ghanon had was decaying in a grave.  If only Ghanon knew the gravity of what they had shared...  What it meant to her...  

"You do not know the full extent of my power, to think that this was the best I could do. I could rip the information from your skull when you least expect it... But no, I opened up myself to you and you, so coldly, so cruelly believe that it was I that manipulated you."

She winced as he spat empty half threats like freshly honed daggers.  In his overwhelming fury he was not able to see the obvious feeling she had for him.  When all other worlds had proven to be cold and desolate, even while brimming with populations of beings, when the ache of loneliness had become a way of life for her, they had stumbled upon one another, and he had only ever acted as the grateful guest of her presence, had given her shelter and food, had asked nothing of her except her company.  Perhaps a part of her had hoped that his befriending her was genuine.  But she knew that it was foolish to believe life was ever fair or right.  She had only lost herself for a moment, and now struggled to regain the cynicism that he had first encountered in her.

"I will keep the knowledge, and among that, my presence with you. I cannot take that risk now that you know who I am. I have a feeling you will be seeing me more and more. So keep your hallowed pride, it's the only thing you will ever have if you keep pushing people away. Those that want only to comfort you in that pain that I know is there."

As she listened to him degrade her character, she realized that he hadn't fully understood the meaning of her words to him.  The knowledge she had spoken of was the knowledge he so desperately pined for.  He had used her body as an access point to her secrets, and she planned to fulfill his desires at the price of their acquaintance.  But his uncontrolled anger had caused him to turn a deaf ear, and she wasn't about to correct him.  He wasn't a child, and she wasn't in need of his approval.  If he wished to demean her in this way, having no sense to question his hasty assumptions, then she would play the part of the vindictive bitch he blindly expected to see.  

He continued to insult her, and she found herself ripping the blanket from her lap in response to his underhanded demeanor, exposing her nude form.  

"Your shroud of dignity, darling, because it seems that's what you want most, not the warmth of another. You seem to want....to be alone now, so I'm going to lie down in the other room, but before I go, would at least answer one question: Why is it so important to you?"

It was then that she stood, insulted, knowingly bringing herself near to him until her breasts grazed his chest, her eyes narrowed as she locked into his gaze.  He boasted of knowing her pain, and yet he could not even begin to comprehend it.

"You." She began, words escaping her as frustration took hold, "You believe you can decipher me.  You believe you see through to my interior, thinking that your perception of life and all that resides within it is the ultimate truth.  And yet you've known me for a few hours shy of a mortal day.  I could tell you, you are mistaken.  I could show you how miserably wrong you are, but all you will see is what you think is real, and then, what value will there be in my efforts to convince you otherwise?"  

She paused to look at him with sincerity, then took in a small breath and continued, "I am broken, Ghanon.  You," she placed a tiny hand on his chest, compassion beaming from her violet eyes, "Are demolished."  Her hand moved to his arm, fingers pressing into his firm flesh, lightly squeezing him to gain some sort of connection.  "You must know that I feel you.  Your bitterness....  Your suffering.........  And though I want desperately to commune with you in our iniquity..."  Her voice trailed off there, finding that words could no longer serve this thought.

She released her hold on him and folded her arms over her chest, backing away now and looking more like a frightened, dismal child, "The things I have done, Ghanon...."  She shook her head, torment etched in her brow, "The disgrace I have brought upon myself...  If I were to even speak it into the air of this world, I would yet again find myself utterly and completely displaced..."  Her next words were broken and quiet, spilling from the overflowing cup of emotion she fought to contain, "My options for places to run to are not endless, and are rapidly growing scarce.  The galaxy is far smaller than you may think..."

She was right.  And he knew she was right, but still he could not find it within himself to face the fact.  He knew he was long since broken, he was past demolished, to the point where the winds of time and a billion suns had drifted away whatever remained of him, what could have been saved.  All that was left was a poor shadow of a man, of what had been Prince Ghanon, if the man had ever existed at all.  He could never return to he was before and could only look toward the blackness of Beyond, falling into the Abyss that was the center of all existence.  He was a shattered reflection gazing up into the corpse of his former self.  The man he could be no more, if he was a man at all.

He listened to her but could not to bear to look into her face, fearing what he saw there, of the truth in her words and he wanted to destroy her right then and there, to tear body apart limb from limb until all was left but the bleeding heart, which he would burn into oblivion.  But there was something in her words that prevented him from doing so, but he found himself grasping onto her forearms with a death-defying strength, that showed his own inner frustration.  She wasn't the only one fighting battles and she seemed to try to reconcile that fact, make him understand an understanding he'd long since burrowed in his mind.

He didn't want her anger, he only wanted the truth, and if she'd given him that from the beginning, then he would not have to suffer beneath her pity and vile compassion.  He wanted to reject her from this plane, but the anger was consuming him within more than it could be projected without.  "Then show me!" he demanded with fire, and his eyes shifted in a multitude of colors that tainted the silver, until they were returned to normal.  "Tell me!  If I am wrong, let me be wrong.  If I am a fool, then let me be a fool.  But do not hide from me.  Don't be afraid of who I am, of who you are!

"If we are equal in our suffering, then let yourself go!  I know my own faults, what I have done that I can never again amend.  You think that I am blind, but I couldn't have been given more sight.  Not into who you are, because you've told me nothing.  How can you expect me to understand when I have nothing?  I...am nothing."

Ghanon's tears burned in his eyes and he rejected them with all his being, he sank to his knees and let go of her, sighing.  "Don't you see?  We both will leave no trace.  We don't belong here no matter what we do.  In the least, I know that I will not.  I am but the mere reflection of a dream.  I have no place.  But of all my fears, I can at least face that one.  Stop running, and see here before one who wants to know you."  He looked up at her now, finally, with no more words to say but these, "The galaxy may be small...but the universe is infinite.  I am infinite."  He was just as much a part of the universe as it was of him.  And he felt his body waver in ethereality, his wished nothing more than to vanish from this earthly plane.

It stung her to hear that she might never find the sense of normality she earnestly sought.  Even though her good sense told her that she was too far gone to hope to resuscitate her unhappy existence, the sweet seduction of hope, if she was even entitled to hope anymore, was far more powerful than the hideous truth.  This was her very purpose, now, to find rest in the solitude of no identity.  It was as if uttering even her name to him would shred the paper palace of protection around her false life.  But if it was so feeble, why bother to uphold it at all?

Even beyond her own hurt, he was struggling with something more.  There was an ugly mass of truth he had never dealt with, and she knew in her eternal time that for beings like themselves, any emotions that were allowed to build would eventually swallow them whole in a rage of madness.  He seemed on the border of it, teetering on the edge of profound understanding and immense pain.  The only solace was that they were together when it happened, able to, if nothing else, at least be privy to each other's affliction.

"Don't you see? We both will leave no trace. We don't belong here no matter what we do. In the least, I know that I will not. I am but the mere reflection of a dream. I have no place. But of all my fears, I can at least face that one. Stop running, and see here before one who wants to know you.  The galaxy may be small...but the universe is infinite. I am infinite."

It was as if he wished to see her stripped of any desire to live, bringing her down to the level he now sank to.  But, was she truly supporting herself that well?  Wasn't this just the inevitable end to a futile endeavor, and he was just the unwitting messenger?

The words he spoke trickled like music from his tongue only to continue caressing her senses.  She watched him transform from the holding her in a painfully solid grip to slumping to the despairing figure that knelt before her, like a child.  He begged her, implored her!  To help him release some of his toxicity through her confession.  Suddenly, visible quivers overtook her body, and a hand fled to her face to sloppily hide her eyes.  Together, they were the very picture of ruin, in their nakedness an Adam and Eve not of Genesis, but of the Apocalypse.  They hadn't only tasted of the forbidden fruit, but gorged on it until their stomachs were distended.  And there was nothing left to do except to welcome the maniacal chaos that accompanied their pitiable survival.

He had sufficiently torn her apart from the inside out, treating her to his kindness only to coerce her into bearing her soul to him.  And now there was nothing left to do but to relent and give him what he had worked so hard for, as if it were his reward.

Her shoulders began to heave as inaudible sobs escaped her, and she took a moment to fully open her heart to the inevitable.  She had placed a single hand on the back of his head, nestled into his soft hair, and had drawn his forehead to her abdomen while the other hand feebly tried to conceal her face.  

"I..." she stopped to control a wave of tears, "I am she who once held the Cosmos in equilibrium."

If he truly were so knowing, her ambiguous meaning would be clear to him.  He would have at least felt the quake-like shift in this Universe as the alternate began to die, all of those years ago.  To any other being, it would have meant nothing more than a bit of extra rain and an inexplicable shift in nature.  To someone like him, he would have known that a much grander force had been at work.

"My name..." she wiped away her tears, "Is Lana."

His form shifted like water as he reached up and held her close to him, to try and hold her steady.  The storm began to calm inside of him, like ashes drifting down after the explosion of a volcano, soon to be burned by acid rain.  He'd stood before the door of another world and had chosen to step through it, once it closed behind him, he could never return again.  That was the dilemma he faced.  Not so much that he'd once been the one that destroyed his own life, but that he was beyond redemption.  He clung to her as if she were the only real thing in this room and he looked up at her as she slowly confessed that which he sought so hard to discover.

When she said it, at first it didn't quite register and her true name was not one he recognized.  But even so, there was a familiarity there that he knew he felt before.  He was at the Connexion Point, the meeting place of the beginning and the end, waiting for a moment, when suddenly it was as if he'd been hit by a supernova.  But on the scale of which was more than astronomical.  He couldn't describe it, but he looked up at her and there was a gradual repulsion that he felt, but did not show.

All this time, she was an Architect like all the others.  And she caused him to be so exposed like that.  Ghanon didn't know what to think but immediately he recoiled from having been so previously vulnerable and found the self that had at once been deceiving.  Suddenly his eyes were filled with a horror...  Could this have been a trap?  To get him at his weakest, to make him admit what he'd done wrong.  "Lana," he breathed, eyes wide.  How could he have been so naïve?  So stupid!?

Ghanon fell back on his haunches and leaned back on his elbows.  He felt cornered, like an animal forced to the back of the cage by the prodding weapon of the handler.  He stared up at her with confusion.  "That was you I felt then...  Like a ripple across the stars.  You caused it, didn't you?"

Lana watched in horror as he seemed to recoil from her.  What was the reason for his reaction?  Hadn't he just finished begging her to reveal herself, only to spit in her face?  She couldn't read the emotion in his face, but she did know that it was not in favor of her.  Perhaps what she had done really was that heinous...

She subconsciously began to rub her arm, shoulders slumped in shame like a child that had just been punished for a bad deed.  She bit her lower lip and a few tired, golden locks fell over her face.  She couldn't bring herself to look at him, unsure if she should try to flee or remain under his scrutiny.  Her body was hot with humiliation, and worlds of old wounds reopened as sharply as true flesh wounds.  But these, she could not simply touch and heal.  They would only continue to fester, and she held her breath, hoping that somehow she might've mistaken Ghanon's reaction.

"Yes." She could not find her voice at first, "I was at the pinnacle of destruction."

Ghanon slowly found his strength and stood before her.  His mind was ever calculating, wondering if this could mean danger for him, a potential threat.  But he couldn't be sure.  Self-preservation was the highest of all mortal instincts and though he was no longer bound by that coil, he retained that more than any other. He could have just as easily fled from this place, left her behind to wonder as to the origin of his existence or if this had all been some strange dream.  But part of him also needed to understand why she had come here.  If it was to hunt him, he would destroy her where she stood.  His purpose was not yet spent.

He softened his expression, sympathetic, curious and wanting to understand.  He stepped near her and threaded one of his hands into hers.  "Your world...it is gone now?" he asked gently, seeing that it was difficult for her to speak of it.  "What happened to it so that it so strongly affected this place?"  She didn't have to answer, and he placed his body near, now solidified, enough for her to find comfort in if she needed it.  He was wary, but willing nonetheless.

"Your world...it is gone now?" "What happened to it so that it so strongly affected this place?"





Though the nerve endings in her hand picked up on his gliding touch her mind was far from her body and their voices.  In a far removed placed of her mind she was grateful for his apparent sympathy.  However, she was in another place now and though she responded to him, it was not her, but the automated version of her that took charge when she felt herself slipping.  Her face was so far downcast that as her tears came, one by one they fell directly from her lashes to the floor.  She seemed to be fixed on their feet, but she saw nothing.  The hand he had interlocked with his own only submitted to the embrace having no rigidity of its own.  Slackened and feeling the weight of that which she avoided minute to minute every day, she let him guide her now.

Debilitated, she lifted her face enough to be understood when she spoke, but remained unable to focus on anything solid around them.  She was in another place now, an imaginary rerun behind her eyes of her final days as Queen.  A perverted smirk crossed her lips as she thought of how absurd it was to consider herself a Queen anymore...  There was no one left to rule, and no reason for an heir to her throne.  Just as her home was, she was nothingness.

"It is no more." Her voice was steady, though dehydrated, "The only trace of it is the astral dust left on my body, in my lungs...  I breathe its scent and taste its acridity always.  That is what remains of us....  Them..."

She sighed, suddenly aching for another boiling bath.  The storm outside was beginning to show its force.  The few windows in the cabin jostled in their frames against the abusive wind, and this stirred her from her trance to glimpse the chaos taking place around them.  Fleetingly she wondered if Ghanon had anything to do with the change in weather.

Canis had awakened due to the disruption of the storm.  Yawning and stretching, he moved himself to the kitchen to lay on the cool wood floor.  Their nudity was hardly noticeable to him, as gods were often shameless and superior to the silly insecurities of mortals.

Lana's heart leapt at the sound of the disturbance outside.  Though it was powerful, and she naturally felt apprehensive in the presence of such brutal force, she knew that her communion, however weakened, with its element would ensure her protection.  

"It was my born purpose, my only purpose, to place my people before myself, to always be wise and thus protect the serenity of their static existence."

She ran her fingertips along her collar bone, "I was born a deity to fulfill this function, for only they are perfect in their discretion."  The last of her words were tinted with sarcasm.

She seemed to glow brighter now, evidence of her celestial origin, her eyes suddenly fixing to his with ferocity, "So when you ask, can a god make a mistake?"  She paused, "I can."

If he looked into her eyes deep enough, he was sure that he could almost see the world she envisioned, where she had been before.  There was a familiarity too it and he saw within her own pupils a reflection of himself that he'd known only too well and seen countless times before.  He listened to her tale after some deep meditative thought.  Outwardly he had held her hand closed in his own and gave her his full attention once she got started.

She seemed so introverted as if she spirited away to that other time, that other place and abandoned him to the here and now.  But it was an expression the he knew well, one that he wore when not in the presence of another.  There was always time to waste, he had all the time in the universe and this mere moment was but a fraction of the eternity that possessed him.  She revealed all that she could to him and he didn't pressure though certain key words stuck with him.

He felt a small rise in anger at the very mention of a static existence.  That was the very thing Dragolir...Ghanon had sought to fight against, it hindered, made feeble the strong, for nothing could be gained nor lost in the narrow, straining coil of Order.  She had a purpose to keep her people in a place of static repetition, it seemed, he felt revolted inside at the very thought.  For Corroth had been no different.  But change, if given the right circumstances, would always find a way.

He met her eyes unflinchingly when she had referred back to his own question and he reached out a hand to her face, in hopes she'd take the comfort and explain further if she so felt the need.  "They all can, no matter what kind of deity they claim to be," he said.  "But power is an all-consuming thing, and nobody can make the right decision all the time.  What mistake you made, it weighs heavily upon you."  He was aware of the heightened storm outside and it seemed that what was supposed to be a light snow, had turned into a blizzard.  He felt a sudden disturbance in the air as a realization dawned on him, the exact nature of it, he couldn't bring himself to say.

Instead he remained by Lana's side and tried to comfort her, though it was one in half-understanding and half-apprehension, though he did not seem apprehensive so outwardly.  The storm was getting worse and he could feel the cold drifting on his body, though it didn't affect him like it did a mortal.  "It's getting chilly in here," he grinned, trying to lighten the mood.  "There's still time to rest if you want it.  I could stay if you want, but with your permission of course."

The prospect of rest was so unbelievably comforting to her exhausted mind and body.  On her way to Darken Vei she had made certain to avoid drifting into the realm of dreams.  She hadn't yet become accustomed to sleeping alone, and beyond that, her mind simply would not let her sleep.  It was a more frustrating experience than a pleasant one, often leaving her more fatigued than if she had remained awake through the night.  And so, instead, she occupied herself during the night hours.  

Remembering how heavenly the warmth of his flesh against her own had been, she caved to her appetite for affection.  More than anything, she needed a loving touch.

"As far as I am concerned, this place is yours...  I wouldn't ask you to depart after you've shown me such hospitality."

His hand had remained on her cheek for a few moments, and though she was angered by all that had passed between them, how he had used her, how he had insulted her...  He was the only person she felt any amount of closeness to.  It was pitiful, but true.  And after having been so utterly alone for so long, letting him be near her was a matter of survival.

"Please." She folded her hands in front of her, "I want you here."

Every friend was an enemy and every enemy could be a friend.  The mantra he'd engraved in his very heart was not proving to be so guiding now.  For though he knew her allegiance to that which was opposite the line he usually tread, there was still a chance that she was not a threat.  And if she didn't, well, she'd certainly be a fun game to occupy his time with.

Ghanon smiled softly at her and bowed his head in comprehension.  "As you wish," and he held out a hand for her own, pulling her near and holding her close.  He kissed her forehead and tried to get her to grin, just a little.  "I don't suppose you sleep with complete strangers often do you?" he joked and gave a wry smile himself.

A deep red flushed her cheeks as he tossed out innuendos.  She was squished up against him like a child might be, being much shorter and more petite than he was.  Inwardly she felt something alarming about how close he was becoming to her, but for tonight, just tonight, she told herself, she would pretend it was safe, real.  

"You're enjoying yourself too much." She smiled back, "It would be unwise to suppose anything about me just yet."

With that she playfully pushed him away and turned, sauntering toward the kitchen where Canis lay contently sleeping.  She leant down and scratched behind his ears, his sleepy eyes parting just enough to view her, the long snout widening to release a great yawn.  He pulled himself wearily to his feet, and followed her to the nearest door where a prepared bed awaited them.

"Just trying to lighten the mood.  A little."

Ghanon raised a brow at her, clearly feigning hurt at having just been "told."  Still he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him and he sat on the settee and watched her with curious, glinting eyes, that looked over her once again.  He was watching her, as he always watched those that still seemed strange to him.  Sharing a body was not the same as sharing heart, and though he had related to her, the ripping open of old wounds had been far too much to borne.

He could not think if he was focused on his past.  So instead he focused on her and knew that perhaps she might be interested enough to discover some things about this world, if she wished it.  But that remained to be seen.

He watched them with an unassuming face as Lana led her companion to the room and he sat up and stood by the door, just curious to see what this was all about.  There were two bedrooms after all.

Canis lifted his massive front paws onto the bed and pulled himself lightly onto the soft mattress.  Lana also slipped her weary form onto the silken sheets and pressed her forehead to his.  Clearly, there was a bond between them that had not been sullied by her sordid past.  Canis understood her better than anyone had, having been her adviser and guardian since the moment of her birth.  

Beneath his fur peeked the turquoise pouch he had purchased for her.  She delicately removed it with her fingertips,  beginning to unravel the golden yarn tie.  Within was a pendant, masculine in its design and decorated with a serpent.  She caressed the metal and stone, gazing on it in fascination before she pressed it to her lips and allowed it to linger.  She then proceeded to clasp the pendant around her neck, and spied Ghanon's figure in the doorway.

"Are you cold?" she queried.

The relationship between her and that wolf it was visible even in plain sight.  It was not so very unusual to see people bonded with animals, especially one that seemed so deep as theirs.  He could tell they relied on one another.  He did not have one like that, not one he could depend on.  But that was to be expected with someone like him.  Not many beings liked associating with someone who could never truly dictate his own loyalties.

When she looked at him he offered a gentle smile, and spread an arm on the doorway.  It was a curious thing that she put around her neck.  "It is rather chilly in here, so yes.  Are you?" he asked and gazed at her deeply, staring at her chest and the pendant that hung there, but it was a fleeting glance before he met her eyes.

Fleeting though it was, Lana's attentions were always particularly keen to the pendant and she noticed his glance as if he had stared for minutes on end.  Instinctively, she wrapped the pendant in her palm as it hung from her neck, as if to protect it from being seen.

"You must be." She smiled, passing her eyes over his naked form and insinuating an unspoken perverted jest, "I am warm.  The sheets are warm."

She passed her hand over the blankets as if to entice him, then leaned backward against the pillows and let a small yawn escape her mouth.  Her eyes looked heavy, but ever alert.  Canis had curled up on the floor amongst a mess of pillows and blankets she had quickly designed for him.

"Yes...they look warm," Ghanon replied, undoubtedly interested in what she seemed to be proposing.  He came over to her and sat beside her on the bed, just smiling a faint twist of his mouth.  "You look pretty chilly yourself.  I can help you with that if you like?" He flirted lightly and leaned over her.

Ghanon hovered his face close to hers, sure to ignore the pendant with his sight and pressed his mouth to her neck.  "This bed looks far too big with just you in it.  Do you mind if I join you?"  He slipped in beside her and relaxed his form, grinning before leaning in to kiss her.

Lana was sure to make room for him, for the bed was vast and there was plenty of space for the two of them.  His body, his lips, hot, beautiful, majestic, his breath sweet...  She found herself being so glad that he had shifted to his natural form.  She was drawn to him in innumerable ways, but even more so to his eyes that seemed constantly to be a shifting, silvery liquid.  She allowed him to take her lips again, but was this time coy in her approach.

After giving him only a taste, she pulled the blankets to her chest, still taking care to casually veil the pendant.  

"It's your bed." She remarked, and drew a fingertip along the sculpted hills of his chest and abdomen.

"When you say Son of Dragolir....  What exactly does that mean for you?"

She was curious to know just how much he shared with the character of the god of change.

Beside her, he let her cover herself up as the kiss was short and he let her feel her hand along him in any way she pleased.  He had no secrets physically and rather enjoyed the contact.  He helped guide her hand along his still beating heart, one that had been the engine of change for a thousand worlds and still more to come.

"My  bed?  No.  Our bed."  he said with a grin.

"He made me...what I am today," he explained to her softly, so nonchalant.  "I was his protege and possess all of his rather unique talents, if I do say so myself.  Why?  Do I not satisfy?"

The truth was, Dragolir's character had been so edited throughout the years that she couldn't be sure she could rely on the version she knew.  It was ironic that the story of the god of change should be so... changed.  

Ghanon's remark was obviously a ploy to evoke a playfully sexual reply from her, or so she thought.  She never could assume innocence from him.

"You satisfy, for now." She quipped, feeling the thick beating of his heart, "I only wondered... how much of you has been melded with him.  And what your purpose is, now that you share an identity."

Her hand roamed as freely as he felt comfortable, getting lost in conversation and the velvet of his skin.  There was nothing like flesh...  Nothing so tempting and thrilling, fulfilling...  Even a brief touch brought such a feeling of completeness.  She drew her fingertip down the length of his side, and rested her hand on his hip.

If her hand was free to explore so was his own and though she remained under the sheets, his hand explored the valleys of her own hips through the thin fabric of the sheet.  He said nothing until his hand came to the crest of her breast and he caressed it gently before slipping under the sheets with her as well.

"Change, darling.  No greater purpose me than that.  But I know you'll always wonder at the truth in my answers.  But I meant it when I said before that I wished you no harm.  But know that I am me, entirely me.  And me is what you'll get if you want it enough."

His answers were so vague, and it bothered her.  It seemed he really had no identity of his own anymore, and it was fitting that the harbinger of fluctuation  would be himself so inconsistent.  The magnitude of his frustration expressed only minutes ago made more sense now.  She could also understand his need to find some grounding in her suffering, a suffering that was similar to his own, yet perhaps more tangible.  She could only imagine that not being sure of oneself moment to moment would be a living nightmare.

His caress was still so new to her that she found herself instinctively draw in a short breath as he freely followed the roundness of her breast.  

"I don't know what I want.  In anything.  I know what I enjoy...  What I fear..." she didn't say it, but he embodied both so well.  "Whatever you are, though, from moment to moment, I will always be curious about you."

She let him explore, her hand still rested at the top of his thigh, shy to venture much further.  She believed him when he said he would bring no harm to her.

His answers were vague, but not without a sense of truth to them.  Even well-crafted lies sometimes had stems of truth.  But Ghanon neither lied nor was completely honest with his word choices.  He was himself, always himself, even when he was not.  Whether it was in the guise of a mortal or a beast, his mind was his own.  And though he could assume any identity he wished, he still clung to that vague, whisper of the memory of himself.  He was Ghanon and this was his true form.

There was no true explanation of what Ghanon was...  Was he a man?  Was he a god?  He had touched the surface of godhood, but could not fully assume that mantle and nor would he want to.  He spurned the gods and all their worth, just as they did him.  Why should it be any difference?  He was caught somewhere in a deeply grayed space that had no explanation, that needed none if one could accept him as he were.  Ghanon 's eyes contained a peculiar mixture of sorrow and amusement when she spoke, but he said nothing of what he thought.

Instead he took his resting arm and used it to brush tresses of her hair from her face, curls that were a soft golden blonde, and smooth to the touch.  He kissed her cheek and jaw lightly.  And peered at her with an easy-going expression.  "You seem like you haven't yet sated your curiosity, have you?"  Ghanon's hand removed itself from her breast and placed it atop hers and guided it down his leg and around it, along his hamstring and to his bottom.  "Sometimes you don't have to know what you want...  All you need is a little curiosity and you're free to explore away."

It was funny to her that he continually turned the conversation to things of a more.... Carnal nature.  He must have assumed that she was an easy win.  Ghanon was partially right.  When she wanted to give in to her lusts, she would, at least with him.  She knew that she wouldn't be exploited by him, but by the same token, she wasn't willing to give him the reigns of their sexual relationship.  Or at least... She wouldn't make it easy.

She feigned disinterest and smiled, squeezing the flesh he had placed her hand over so brazenly, "I think it is you whose hunger for exploration has not be satiated.  Am I right in saying so?"

A twinkle entered her eye as she fingered the pendant unknowingly, pulling her hand away from him and biting her fingernail, "Should I exit the room and allow you to alleviate said hunger?"

Her playful side had shown through, and quickly, and she wasn't about to stop letting the flow of good humor run its course.

Ghanon was a creature of temptation.  His words might have been taken as an attempt at control, but he always gave those he encountered nothing but mere choices.  He was enjoying the attention of course, but she seemed to be toying with him in vague strands that were doing well to pull on him.  And he would meet her any which way she wanted him to.

"I'm never satisfied," he admitted with just a fleeting tease.  "I think I might have a better time alleviating it with a certain blonde goddess than I would alone.   But if you want to make leave, feel free to do so.  You seem...very shy with this kind of thing."

He grinned knowingly, though he knew he wanted to press her buttons just a little.  He put a hand on her side and chuckled with a lifted brow, gazing down at her expectantly.

Shy??  Her eyes deepened to a shade of royal blue as she laughed loudly.  Of course, he was baiting her.  Fortunately, she understood this well.  He wasn't the first to try to tantalize her, and though he wasn't the first to succeed, his little temptations no matter how they originated would do him no good unless she felt in the mood to be enticed.  Her body was a prize to be won, and at times, fully impossible to win.  But she had to commend him for trying...

She leaned forward and gazed at him a while before taking his bottom lip between her own soft, moist lips and giving him a little nip.

"I think you'll do fine on your own, tonight.  You're more than capable of handling such personal matters...." she glanced downward and then smiled.

Lana then drew herself from the bed, the jewels embedded into her spine glittering in the dim light of the candles.  Canis rose from his place in his comfortable pile of blankets and pillows, a bit resentful that she would not settle in one place.  He did, however, follow her without protest as she meandered toward the door, allowing her curves full range of motion.  

She paused in the doorway, "Sleep well, if you sleep at all.  As for me, I never stay still for long.  But knowing you occupy this place will bring me a great deal more comfort."

With that, she turned, sending Canis through the door and pulled it closed behind her with one last coy glance in Ghanon's direction.

It was so interesting watching her eyes change color like that, in some similar sense to his own, but they did not fluctuate like the surface of water.  They seemed to shift based on how she felt, though he wondered if she would let him discover that part of her nature.  But he understood quickly that that was a privilege he'd have to earn, just as her body was.  He found something in him that was rather eager to do so.  But he was a patient man and would see how things played out.

He let her get up from the bed and watched her with a playful grin and let her close the door behind her before he got out of the bed and shimmered on his robes, the glinting silver bracers on his wrists that seemed of an arcane nature.  He remembered the floorboard he pried open and left for others to see.  He ought to seal that if he could.

He waited for at least a half an hour before opening the door to the darkness of the cabin without.  The fire had died low and he crouched out, stepping as lightly as his boots would let him and made his way to where he'd left the floor exposed underneath.

There was a small mirror, rounded like a locket, and held on a thin simple chain.  He thought of the pendant Lana had clutched and played with while she flirted with him.  It wasn't too soon, he thought, to give her a little gift.

Lana strode deftly into the central room of the cabin where the fire still licked at its brick home and dwindled.  Canis moved to the front door assuming a stance of guardianship with eyes locked on her.  He knew it was time to leave now.  Lana walked over to the now cool water in the porcelain bath tub and splashed her tired eyes, wiping the refreshing liquid from her face with the towel that remained damp from her earlier bath.  Her garment still laid where it had been tossed aside earlier, drab and grey, and she decided it was best to fashion a new outfit.  Unlike Ghanon, she could not simply create clothes purely made of magic, but she could refashion an old garment into a new one.  She needed something breathable and suitable for broad ranges of movement, and though the blizzard raged outside with plummeting temperatures, her body was accustomed to environments nearly entirely made of ice.  Her clothing did not need to protect her from the harsh conditions of the cold.  After rejuvenating her old tattered dress into something more versatile, she drew the fabric over her body and pulled her hair up away from her neck.  

Hopefully, Ghanon would remain in his room.  She wanted to slip away unnoticed without explanation.  It wasn't that she wished to abandon him, and it wasn't that she wouldn't want to see him again.  It was simply that he evoked in her such a range of emotions that she had to find a way to breathe and remaining in the distress of their pain and flirting with each others vulnerabilities had drained her.  It was time to move forward and find a new destination.  She had meant what she said.  She never could stay still for long, and though his presence would have brought a peacefulness to her during the night, sleep would continue to evade her.

After a bit of exploration, not lasting long due to the simple layout of the cabin, she found the room where shriveled venison and canned goods were stored during the winter season.  It was apparent that at one time this place had been very productive for a small family, but they had long been gone.  There was the tiniest bit of dim light peeking through the wall at the other side, and she made her way with her wolf at her heels toward the door to the outside.

Ghanon approached her in the darkness, his eyes like galactic lights that flashed and shone like gleaming gems.  When she was ready to leave, he approached her from behind, knowing that it too was time to abandon the cabin.  It had been a place he'd been too many times before.  The family that lived here, were now swimming in silence beneath the bottom of a lake somewhere. One man's family was often another man's envy, but that was no matter now.

Ghanon took the chain and opened it up.  "Lana," he said her name solemnly, knowing that perhaps it was time for them to part.  "Before you leave, as I know you will, please take this gift from me.  It is a mirror pendant.  A magic mirror.  It will let me contact you and allow you to contact me should you ever need me.  Go ahead, try it on."

He placed it around her neck and let his fingers follow the chain down to her chest, placing it behind the pendant she wore earlier, and pulled his hands away after several moments.  "You can see your reflection in it, and if you touch it, it ripples like water."  He took a finger and tapped the small glass, which rippled as he said it would.  "Just talk into it and I can hear you no matter where you are...or when you are."

Lana had been surprised by his appearance through the darkness.  His eyes shown brighter than the light stretching beneath the door, flashing at her like the lens of a cat eye.  A little remorse filled her at being caught in the midst of leaving without saying goodbye.  But perhaps it was more her own sadness than the thought of what solemnity she might've caused him.  None the less, she appeared unfazed.

Inwardly, however, she was touched, both by how he seemed moved, even if it were slight, by their separating, and by his gesture of friendship.  The nature of the necklace intrigued her, as it obviously was of some magic nature.  And as he explained the purpose of the tiny device she felt a small happiness rise in her heart.  As much as she hated to admit it, she was relieved by the idea that they had a reassurance that they may meet again.  

"That is very kind." She whispered, still gazing down at her new trinket, but soon lifted her eyes to him and caressed his cheek with the back of her fingertips, "Stay warm."

She then turned and pried open the moldy wooden door, a vicious blast of snow and heavy wind pelting the three of them.  Without much trepidation she mounted Canis, who slowly pressed himself against the direction of the mighty wind.  It wasn't long before they were swallowed up in the crisp white atmosphere, leaving the storage room without a trace of previous inhabitance.