Spirits of the Earth

Denera sat before her sister’s grave, her head bowed in prayer. Though Diora, her twin sister, was hardly dead, it might seem she were to any other person beside her sister and the people of the village of Owendae. Her body had become cold, not a breath in her, as Diora’s small hand were crossed over her chest, and sacred coins resting over her eyes. The building was small, a resting place for the sacred Keeper, and where her energies connected her from this world to the next.

Each morning it was a routine, part of the ritual that Denera would come, make flowers and wine as offering, and tend to the small shrine her sister lay within. Even in the rain, she would come, and snow, and bring what ever offerings she could and make her will known to the Gods, and to her sister, that she was there to serve, she would always be there to serve, and that her sword and skill, her magics, would be use to preserve the balance of our world.

Then she would sit upon the floor and meditate, lighting incense and becoming one with the sounds of the forest and stones, before kissing her sister’s cold cheek to leave her to rest once more, sealing the stone door and drawing the same salted chalk symbol across the stone to protect her from any evil forces, or chaos, that might try to seek her out. When she turned around, she wasn’t surpised to see Drey standing there, a left ward grin stretching across the grisly, beginnings of a beard on his face. His hair was as dark as his eyes, though his hair was brown where his eyes were a cool, sea blue. And as he looked upon her, his eyes danced as he gave a nod of his head while he leaned a hand against the hilt of his sword, the edge of hwihc was pressed into the soft grounds.

“How is she?”
It was the same question he always asked. Denera smiled and nodded her head.

“She is fine, though she spoke of a vision, worrying about a black bird carrying some sort of fragment of chaos.”

Drey’s face twisted over the idea. “A black bird? Perhaps a crow,” he said, rubbing his chin and scratching through the bristled hairs. “It is said the crow can be both helpful, and evil, depending where he is born and where you first see him.” He laughed a little. “Though I recall Diora having a fondness for birds. She knew them quite well, even into her blindness, able to pick them out amongst the whole chorus of birds in the morning song.”

Denera smiled at the memory. “Yes, I recall we used to have contests to see who could name the most, but naturally she always won.”

Drey laughed, tossing back his head as small wrinkles creased beside his eyes. “As she always does! But come, let us head back to town. Perhaps one of the wise women might have some sort of idea what to make of this bird vision. If it has something to do with chaos, we’ll have to worry about it, no doubt. But maybe they can interpret it for us?”

Denera nodded, but paused as the pair made their way towards the muddy road. It had rained all night, but cleared in the morning, and the fog had since cleared, though it hampered any of the ground from completely drying.
“Drey..”

He paused in mid stride and turned to look at her, making a noise and cocking up an eyebrow.

“You know this is not your quest. As Diora’s twin..” Dnera began, but Drey gave a wave of his hand, shrugging off her story as always.

“Denera, you know the Gods don’t need to tell me to protect your sister,” he told her, dark blue eyes meeting to hers. “I love Diora, and always will. I know her mind is elsewhere, and though it pains me I can not tell her how I miss her, I will wait for her until it is our time.” He gave a grunt of a laugh. “It’s just the fate of a man in love. I would wait until death just to be with her. And if that is how it is to be fated," he pulled his sword out of the ground, twirled it a moment before sheathing it and turning back to her with a grin.  "Then so be it. But for now,” he paused, eyes shining as a grin reachd his ears. “For now, you and I will remain steadfast and protect her.” He patted her arm firm. “Forever and always.”

Denera smiled up at him. “Forever and always.” Though as the pair of them turned towards the trail, a black bird swooped over head, and the two of them could not help it but tense at the sight.

“A black bird…” Drey's fingers curled around the hilt of his swrd. He kept his brows raised as he studied it, keeping a careful watch of where it was going. “You don’t suppose..?”

But Denera didn’t need to answer him, as she was quick to call her white horse Nightingale, and mounted her and took off in the direction of the black bird, pulling up Drey so he sat behind her as the pair rushed off deep into the shadows of the woods. Denera slowed the horse slowed, hearing a series of caws coming from the other side of some tall brush. Approaching cautiously, the pair dismounted and went on foot, parting the ferns and black-berry bushes aside to expose a small patch of forest full exposed to the sun (where as the rest of the forests remained beneath the canopy of trees, blanketing most o fit from the sunlight, except where fragments broke in through the break in leaves).  Here, an old, dead tree remained twisted, grey and solemn, all the while it's branches held an entire flock of beady eyed black birds.

Denera could hardly believe her eyes. She had only taken a few steps before she paused, noticing that beneath the dead tree that held the birds, something shimmered within the grass. Drey had seen it too. He took a hesitant step forward, a hand upon the hilt of his sword.

"Denera," he started, eyes wavering. "Be careful." he said, then gestured for her to move forward. "I got your back." His eyes searched the trees, but as usual, the forest only appeared as wild and beautiful as ever. The only thing out of the ordinary were the grouping of birds, birds that hardly seemed disturbed as Denera moved forward, birds whose eyes seemed to be watching them. Drey kept behind her, just a few paces, hands itching to draw his blade.

"Brave birds, they should have taken flight by now," he muttered beneath his breath. His eyes now searched up towards the sky, tracing along the clouds, then the lining of trees all around them. "What do you suppose brought them here? ANd do you think that thing in the grass is what Diora spoke of?"

Denera held her breath. She wasn't sure how to answer him, though as she approached the tree and spotted the glimmering shard again, she released her held breath and slipped the sword she had drawn back into it's sheath. Dropping to her knees, she examined the fragment. It glittered, reflecting the sky, but not much else around them- except her own face, whihc, fora brief moment, she thought she had seen Diora instead. Frozen, she let her eyes flutter a moment before she furrowed her brows and lifted the glass shard delicately up within her hands.

"It's almost like a mirror," she murmured.

"It's just some piece of glass, reflecting the light," Drey said with a shrug, though he too, noted his own reflection in the pice. He glanced around again, eyes ever cautious as they kept on the birds, then to the shadows in the trees, rustling now within the wind. The white horse seemed ok, but Nightingale was a brave horse, so not much spooked her. He sheathed his sword and gestured to Denera. "Let's wrap it in some clothe and take it back to the village. I am sure they have answers. If this is truly something chaotic, they'll know how we can dispose of it."

 The voices lingered so nearby he could almost feel the very breath of them brush against his ear.  They were so soft, so familiar, as if they'd been plucked from a place so intimately tucked away that to hear them once again made the hackles on the back of his neck stand on end.

"But you are the Emperor.  There must be something you can do."

"I have done what it is that I must do!  Nothing more."

"But he's your son!  Please, Valdric!"

"He is no longer my son..."

Ghanon awoke with a start, breathing heavily and stared wide-eyed at nothingness.  He knew where he was though he did not recall how he'd gotten here.  It was no matter, and he stood from the platform, at the Connexion Point, peering up, peering out and staring deep into the eyes that bored back at him.  He'd grown up with the same stories told to all mortal children, that the stars were the eyes of the gods.  An amalgamation of color and brilliance, nebulas and novas, quasars and black holes, arranged constellations drifting along a velvet blanket dotted with binaries and the flares of stellar winds dancing across the spheres.  It was beyond beauty, beyond base tangibility.  So much so that even the eyes alone could never truly appreciate their majesty.

Ghanon breathed in the dust of the void, contemplation enough to last the length of time and time again.  Now there was a test in true infinium, that he was a being who would exist without it and because so, would surpass it.  The Man Without Time, or so he'd been called by an unknown tongue; the gift and curse of life eternal.

And all for what?  To be spurned and hounded, dogged into submission by the very gods he challenged.  He'd faced worse evils than their power combined.  He was no longer fashioned of the same mortal sand that served as clay to their hands.  But they would soon see the error of their ways.  He'd make sure of it.  Yet, his journey was still a long way from its completion, and there would always be more than one obstacle in his way.

But if it wasn't priests or gods or their heralds, it was demon-lords and princes in possession of evil swords.  Ghanon still cringed at the wounds that poisoned his form from the blade Azaghal, that sapped him of his power.  But the fragmented memory of that moment felt jagged and cut across his palms in a torrent of pain.  He'd lost her breath, her touch, her name.  But it was a necessary hurt, consequential of what had to be done.  The shard was made his, through the agony of it all.  And that too was merely another thread over and done with.

It was time to move on to the next shard for the Mirror would not repair itself would it...  He could sense it's energy, coursing somewhere deep in the heart of the northern country, in a place he'd been before, but where and more importantly who was nearest it.  They were energies only minutely traceable, the left-over magics of a time long past, when the gods were raw and young and yet to be wrought into the tyrants of the universe.

And Ghanon focused and breathed out the dust of emptiness and felt the shard.  It would look nothing more unusual than a piece of broken glass, a tiny shard of something much larger, much grander than anyone could imagine.  Only Ghanon knew of its gifts, of its curses, of its consequences – of its possibility and it would be his.  He waited, kneeling on the platform, feeling his body ripple like water, as it always did, form vanishing, falling though the fabric of space, as he opened a portal and slipped through it, fading like the ghost that he was.

He rippled through the plane, appearing amongst the trees as if he'd always been there, a figure no more outstanding than the hide of their bark or the leaves on their branches.  He stood then, and reached out for the energies of the shard, it's traces.  Long ago, it was a piece of a necklace, a small charm given by a lady to her knight.  Ghanon could see the traces as if they were real in this day as he stood in the thicket of trees, but it broke, lay dormant in the ground where his body fell, and rotted and skull was crushed to dust, to become part of the earth once more.  It was no matter, dormant or not, this would be easier than he anticipated.

He followed the energy, would find it near an old rotted stump.  But something else was wrong.  Of course it would be too easy.  Ghanon growled internally and felt his body melt away into the trees, a small squirrel, no larger than a gauntlet, perched up high in the branches and scurrying out to get the best view.  He looked out, and watched curiously as two figures talking amongst themselves found themselves at the base of the tree, surrounded by black crow that didn't even flinch at their presence.  He was silent, speculative, merely watching as they found what it was he sought in the dirt at the base of the stump.  Hm, he thought. They would find it first.  It is the way of things.  Nothing can ever be so simple.

But nothing worth it's effort was simple.  He of all people took a hard lesson from that.  And sometimes the ends really did justify the means.  As he listened to their conversation, he focused his beady eyes on the shard, eating nothing more than an acorn to preoccupy himself, gathering what words he needed most – a village, no doubt a settlement nearest here, Diora, a person of relation, obvious importance to the female that held the shard.  And the male...he was more likely disposable and of no real concern, but despite his evaluation, Ghanon knew better than to take anything for granted.

As the pair left with his desired object, he turned his eyes back to the crows that watched them leave.  He almost wanted to laugh at their old superstition.  Of course, black birds and black creatures were filled with black hearts and evil intent.  If only the world was so black and white, and if only the fools here had thought of nothing more of the shard and discarded it where they found it.  But the gods of course always made their stories weavingly so that even the strangest coincidences were of the most pertinent importance.  Chance of course, would have it that these strangers would chase black birds in the middle of the forest because of old tales and superstitions.  He smiled inwardly at the thought.  The game was on.

As they vanished back the way they came, Ghanon followed them, scurrying along the ground, hiding in the brush, trailing along as nothing more than a piece of the life of the forest around them, following them to their village.

The pair moved along, heading back towards Owendae; a small village nestled at the base of a mountain side with grass and stick huts, and smoke curling out from the center holes. The pair was mostly silent, for it seemed there was not much to discuss until they brought the shard to the old blind woman of the village. She was wise beyond her years, and though she hadn't been blind for most of her life like Diora had, she had settled into her blindness in her old age, growing comfortable with it, so when her milky eyes raised to stare at the pair, Denera knew the old woman could see them.

"So you say Diora prophetized some sort of evil fragment, found by black birds, so you find this?" The old woman turned it over in her hand, frowning as she moved over and placed it inside a plain, clay bowl and moved over towards the fire. "Come, we will see if the smoke has anythign to say to further guide us." 

Drey and Denera exchanged glances before taking a seat around the fire. THe old woman swetp her long hair back, pinning her long braid atop of her head. And from deep within she began to sing, the words coming out in rolled tongues as she  took another bowl full of dust and dried seeds and flowers, and began to sprinkle it around the fire as she sang. It wasn't until the last handful was in herhair did she turn to the flames and toss it in, and the fire took a light, going white hot for a brief moment, and Denera was sure she had seen her sister.

"Diora! I saw her! She is here and speaks to us int he flames!"

The old woman nodded sagely, still humming and now turning the clay bowl over like a  tambourine, and began to drum her old, gnarled fingers over it carefully.

"IF the vision rings true, then this is what Diora has spoken of." ANd the old woman reached up to a procure a clay jar and drew out a piece of chalk, which she held over the shard and crumbled the chalk bits over it so it fell upon it like gritty dust. Then, setting the bowl with the mirror shard nearer to the fire, she walked over and took both Denera and Drey's hands and squeezed them.

"It might take many moons to have a vision of truth. Why don't you go report to Diora you've found what she seeks, but we need more answers. In the meantime, I will keep this hut protected, so that whatever chaos lurks within does not get out."

No superstition went unpunished, as the saying rolled in his mind.  Ghanon lingered on the edge of camp, trying to reach out to the shard.  Strange rituals, going through the motions to try and find whatever secrets the shard had.  He could laugh again, but that might be quite strange to see a squirrel cackling so.  He lingered on the edge of the hut, inconspicuous and hidden within the grasses of the village, where well trodden paths seemed so few and far between.

As the pair left the hut of the wise woman, Ghanon peered at them with beady eyes, clearly hidden just behind a jar and pot positioned beside the flap.  When they were out of view, Ghanon maneuvered from his place behind the clay pots and felt his form waver like the surface of water, feeling it shift and change so that he appeared as a man, ordinary of the flesh, aged with grayed hair cut choppily on his head, in hunters garb with a hand holding onto his side.  Blood seeped out from between his fingertips and his face winced in pain as he hobbled toward the entrance of the hut, finally collapsing through the door and making the old woman jump within, startling her.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the shard reflecting by firelight, but Ghanon kept his face in the crook of his arm, his face old and ragged, the wound deep and grave.  "Help me," he murmured to the woman with what energy he had left.

The old woman gasped, startled at the sight of the bloodied man collapsed on the dirt floor of her hut.

"Here, let me see those wounds!" she said firmly, crouching beside him, her brow furrowing over how much of him was covered in blood. "What happened to you, friend?"

OOC: not sure if you wanted D & D to show up yt so I post something short 8D

The hunter groaned as the old woman crouched at his side, insoecting his ghastly wound.  He purposefully shuddered, Feeling his skin grow cold and clammy even as a fever took his brow.  "A creature," he whispered to the wise woman.  "In the forest.  Attcked me...  This was the nearest...village."  The old woman helped him inside and laid him on a leather mat as she peeled away the bloodied leather of his armor.

The woman paled. " These wounds look bad. Please, just lay there. Shh shh, you do not want to put strain on the wounds." she frowned and peered into his eyes, smoothing back his hair.
"Please, rest up here. I must inform the rest of the town. If there is a threat nearby, we need to be prepared, lest it show up here." She wrung her hands over that idea. "How large would you say it was, and would you be able to describe it to me in detail, so I know what we are dealing with?"

Without herbal sedatives, the man's eyes just rolled back into his head and his skin took to beading around his brow, even after the old woman wiped it away.  His head rolled side-to-side and he took heavy breaths.  "Large, like a bear, but something was different...had...monstrous teeth, like a shark, clawed the ground...and me," he said.  "It was far from here....I think.  I crawled in this direction on a longshot.  I don't think...it is nearby, but I don't know..."

Something seemed... off. Even Drey sensed it too, as Denera stared back towards the hut where the elder was kept.

"We should check that out. I know that look, Denera. Come on." And the two made their way with haste to the hut. Drawing back the curtain, both stood in alarm to see a bleeding man upon the floor. The old lady was dabbing a cloth at the man's head.

"Oh, Denera, thank goodness you are here. Please, come help me. I need you to mix me herbs with water to help with the sweating. The junja berries and kakum weed are over there." She gestured, and Denera obeyed, popping open the jar lids and taking out the correct amount, without any effort at all. It was second nature to her, and soon she was slipping it into a clay cup wth water and swished it around, mixing it thoroughly before moving to the man's side.

"Here, you ought to drink this," Denera said, keeping the man's head cushioned on her lap. "Now shh. be sitll, and simply drink."

Drey furrowed his brows and asked, "What happened?" And when the old woman explained, he placed  ahand to his sword. "Shall I scout the area." And she only nodded.

"Yes, and do warn the village. Get the other men to come with you. Do not go alone."

Drey nodded, then turned to Denera, placing a hand to her shoulder before he departed.

[Thought it said something about sedatives.  Missed the sweating part.  Edited.]

The hunter laid prostrated on the map and turned his gaze to the young pair that came into the hut.  It was the young woman's turn to tend to him, pulling his head into her lap, and swishing a concoction.  But the hunter shook his head and turned his mouth away from her hand.

"No, no, I don't ...want it," he choked.  But some of the concoction and already found it's way into his mouth and he was coughing and swallowed anyway.  He looked up at the woman the elderly lady called Denera, catching her into his mind with the warm brown of his eyes.  Traces of red lingered there that swirled like the heart of a galaxy somewhere far away.

"Jasparweed," he breathed.  "In my bag.  Mix it with the poultice to stop the bleeding."

OOC: Awww,  I was contemplating changing my post so that it WOULD be a sedative, forcing Ghanon to sleep nyahahaha
but that's all good <3
and sorry for the delay in posting >.>
So many threads @_@
A lot of ppl got interested inthe connlaoth civil war, so been preoccupied with that~
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Denera nodded, and gestured to Drey, who fumbled through the bag with his large hands. He found the weed and handed the pouch over to Denera, who rechecked it through smell before sifting some into the mix.
"There," she smiled down at the man. "Now drink up."

Ghanon drank the solution, his hand wavering over the mixture and transferring water discreetly to dilute it as he took his lips to the mixture.  He coughed hard, face red and laid back against the mat.  "Thank you," he breathed.  "I'll feel much better I'm sure,...Denera...was it?"

Denera nodded, smiling once he took it in.
"You seemed to have suffered greatly. But we're here to help. Hopefully that creature will do you, and anyone else, no more harm." She looked up at the old healer woman, who was frowning and pacing about.

"Drey, go gather the other men and have them scout the perimeter at once. Denera and I will stay here to tend to this gentleman."

"But should I not go check on Diora? To ensure she is safe?" Denera asked.

The woman thought it over, but shook her head.
"No, let her rest. No one can disturb her while shes slumbers. The charms and chalks will ward those off that are evil in spirit. She will be fine." Then she smiled down at Ghanon. "I do not believe we've gotten your name?"

He coughed and let his eyes glaze over, feeling them roll to the back of his head.  At the mention of his name he squinted at them and frowned.  "Ander," he groaned.  "My name is Ander.  Please, just...let me rest.  I'll be fine."

The women nodded. Drey had already long since left, so the pair worked diligently to ensure Ander was comfortable. After a time, Denera took watch outside, staring off into the forest as the men disappeared to scout the area as she twirled a piece of tall grasses between her fingers.
So strange.. she wondered if this sort of happening had to deal with the peculiar mirror like shard she had found.

"Is something wrong, Denera?" the old lady asked.

Smiling over to her, she shrugged. "I can't help but wonder if this poor man is suffering in consequence to Diora's vision."

The old woman smilea nd placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"I think the only problem might be that you think too much. But you should be able to inquire to her come the marrow. For now, do not burden yourself so. These sorts of things happen."

"Yes, but this creature seems most foul. Do you not beleive it migh tbe connected with what Diora was warning us about?"

The old woman drew in a careful breath.
"That is not my place to say. But there is no sense in us worrying over it when Diora will be able to guide us." ANd she took Denera's hand and squeezed it light.

The man called Ander sat up when he was sure the pair that tended to him had left.  There was an unusual light to them, in this little village, but he couldn't allow himself to be concerned with it for long.  He remembered why he'd come here, to claim the shard and be gone before they knew it.  He sat up, moving as if the wound did nothing to irritate him as he moved to where he'd last seen the shard by the fireplace, wrapped in a piece of leather.

Ghanon looked at it and slowly unwrapped it and saw the sliver of ancient glass there, dusted and spotty and with the vague fingerprints upon where he'd seen the young woman Denera touch it.  He grasped it's smooth surface before moving over and tucking it discreetly away underneath his shirt.  He looked down at his hands, placing them in front of him just inches apart.

He blew air into his palms and with that produced an identical piece of glass to that of the shard, same size, shape, even the cracked curvatures and fingerprints before place it gently in the leather clothe again, and laying back down on the mat, closing his eyes when he heard voices approaching the hut again.

It was the old woman who returned this time, smiling warmly at him.
"How are you feeling, Ander?" Though she was no fool, she noticed something was off about the shard and wrapped leather, but didn't let her eyes linger upon it for too long, nor let it show on her face as she took a seat near to him.
"I sense an air of change about this village. Perhaps your presence here is just the beginning."

Ander looked over to the old woman with glazed eyes, his skin having taken a proper sweat to it from the heat within the tent.  "I would hope not," he murmured between strenuous breaths.  "I'm just a hunter.  But I guess any hunter risks themselves with...their own vocation.  A beast can just as easily kill a man as a man would kill it.  I should have been more careful."

She gave another smile, but said nothing, eyes going to the tent flap. She could still make out Denera's silouhette.
"Much has happened here within the last year or so. Many great changes,"s he began, but did not elaborate into what. "They say some sort of darkness plagues our world. ANd I can feel it, even in my old bones." She smiled and looked over at Ander. "Are you a spiritual man?" Though when she asked the question, it almost appeared as if it was her mind that had spoke, and not her lips.

Ander groaned groggily.  "Doesn't darkness reside in all places?  There's nothing new there.  But some find comfort in it's embrace.  Does that make it evil?  I've always found...I was a little more at home in the darkness of the night, with the moon shining down on my, the stars out in the sky.  The eyes of the gods...they say.  Do you believe that?  The stars are the eyes of the gods?  Seeing all things...  It's a lovely thought; almost storybook."

The woman's smile widened, but didn't meet her eyes.
"I did not mean the darkness of the night, for all things of the earth are natural, beautiful. No, I meant a different darkness. The darkness of men."

Ander laughed painfully and peered up at the old woman with weary eyes.  "I know what you spoke of, I was merely speaking of the quiet peace of evening.  I'm not sure I believe in that hocus pocus, but I like to think life is beautiful and mysterious enough, without the superstition of evil and good and the eternal battle therein.  I like talk with you.  What is your name?"

The old woman studied him a moment, and it was then Denera re-entered into the hut. The old woman was about to speak, but instead, bowed to the man without so much as answering him before turning to her.

"Yes, is there any news?"

"So far, nothing, Analla," Denera informed. She stood there, shuffling her weight, then looked down at Ander. "Is there any information from this man we might ought to use? Such as how dangerous this creature might be and-"

And the old woman, Analla, laughed. It was a pretty sound, and despite her age, she was a very pretty lady. She had aged well, even her wrinkles.

"Diora will be fine," Analla reminded, a twinkle to her eyes. "Though perhaps now might not be the best time to question our friend?" ANd she turned to Ander and smiled. "Unless, that is, you wish to all hear a story. A story about the coyote and the fox."

Denera made a face, taken back by the comment.
"But what does that story have to do with anything?" To her it made no sense. The coyote was a trickster, and the story was about perseverance through wit and skill. Why bring that up at a time like this?

Analla only smiled.

"Just a story to help pass the time. It seems you are a ball of nerves, Denera. PLease, sit with us by the fire side. I'm sure Drey and the others will be fine. We have a lot of strong men in town and you worry too much."

The man called Ander gave the woman called Analla a smile as he turned his head over and stared at the tent wall.  When the younger woman emerged, He turned back and watched the exchange with interest, but kept his eyes half-lidded.

"A story would be nice," Ander admitted and nodded for Analla to go ahead.

Denera sighed frustratedly, but obeyed her elder and sighed, taking a seat near the fire. Analla smiled, keeping her gaze soft and indifferent as she clapsed her hands behind her back, pacing as she begun her tale.

"The coyote and the fox have been enemies since many moons, but before than, the pair were friends. Both being small dogs, they would often frolic and sometimes even had packs of their mixed kind. Though coyote was a jealous sort, and very cunning, and envied fox's beautiful tale. So one day as the pair was hunting in the forest, Coyote asked the Fox, 'Why is it you have such a bright and shiny coat? And a bushy tail witha  white tip?' Fox merely answered, 'Because the Spirits wanted us to be so.' And the coyote, not easy to please with such an answer pressed, 'Yes, but we are both like the dogs and the wolves, yet you see no wolf with red fur.' The fox raised it's head curious to the coyote but simply replied, 'The Spirits wanted us to be red. Red like blood, to remind all other animals that we have heart, we have blood.' and Coyote grew angry at this. 'But Coyote also has a heart. We also bleed, but our coat is not red.'  Fox simply flicked his tail and answered in nonchalance, 'Yes, but if the spirits wanted you to have such a color fur coat, they would have done so.' "

Analla paused to smile at the pair, and seh was still pacing as her eyes shined with kindness.
"You see, here it is when the Coyote challenged the fox, and used his skills to try to trick fox out of giving him his fur coat; but no matter what sort of games the coyote played, the fox managed to slip out, unscathed. So the frustrated Coyote then asked, 'How come you are not easily caught? I laid out many tricks for you but you evaded all of them.' And the fox only smiled and answered, 'Becuase it is how the spirits wanted it. The spirits also gave us a bigger brain than you coyotes. Though you are smart, we are cunning; and sharp as a tack. I saw all of your tricks you tried to pull on me well before each game began.' And the coyote howled furiously and attempted to kill his brethren the fox. Now,.." she said, her bare foot scraping agianast the dirt floor of her hut as she looked from Denera to Ander.

"The coyote is much stronger than the fox, so he did not come out unscathed this time, but bore many scars and lost much blood. Though he did manage to escape, but that was only with the help of the wolf, and for it, to this day, the Coyote and the Fox are mortal enemies, and the Wolf; the wolf a silent friend."

Ander listened to the dtory with minor intrigue and smiled at Analla when the story was finished.  "Sounds like the coyote got what was coming to him," he replied quietly.  His eyes lingered over to Denera and blinked at her.  "And what do you make of that?  What's the moral of the story?"

Denera frowned and replied softly, "Be careful who you are friends with." And she noted the look in Analla's eyes before turning suddenly, whipping out her sword and placing it at Ander's throat. The flames from the fire danced between them, and her hold on the blade was skilled and true.
"And not to be easily deceived.." Her blue eyes narrowed upon him.

Analla smiled when this happened, and raised from where she had been sitting. She placed a hand upon Denera's shoulder.
"Yes, but perhaps you are reading into it too much?" Though before Denera put her blade away, she turned to Ander and smiled.

"I believe you might have something that belongs to us, friend," the old woman said warmly.

Ander stared at the blade with wide eyes. And he looked at Denera again as if he wasn't sure to believe her.  "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he confessed.  He struggled to sit up, but eventually pulled himself up.  He pulled off the blanket and revealed his bound abdomen and everything in it's immediate vicinity and there was nothing to be had.  "See?"

At the sight, Analla only smiled, still keeping a hand upon Denera's shoulder.

"Forgive us for not being so trusting. THere have been troubled signs read within the stars." And she wondered how well this man might know magic, deception or slight of hand. Either way, she gestured for Denera to check the wrapped clothe where the shard had been, and once it was confirmed it was still there, Analla sighed.

"Perhaps I was wrong." Analla said, as she wiped at the light trickling of blood that began to creep out of her nose. She bowed humbly as she apologized, and Denera felt herself confused. Why was Analla so suspicious of this man anyway? And why would she care if he had taken that peculiar shard they had found in the woods?

It was only then a terrifying, beastial screech was heard across the city. Denera's eyes widened as she got to her feet.
"The beast! It's here!" And she turned to Analla, who only gestured for her to go on, and Denera rushed out of the tent, the tent flap fluttering closed just as a second terrifying screech was heard.

Ander jumped at the cry that resounded outside, pulling his shirt down and as Denera bolted outside of the tent, his eyes fell back on Analla.  He looked her over, his expression did not change.  "The beast is here," he murmured.  "Why are you so calm?"

"Things will be as it may," she simply replied. "The stars also showed some truths in deception. But it also showed something cruel, and that cruelty is something we can not fight. If the beast came here, than it was willed. Even still, we will not sit idle, but fight as always. Besides," she smiled to 'Ander'. "These bones are too old for fighting. Even my eyes, I fear, might be too old to see. So I trust my fate to my children."

Ander sat up and held his wounded side.  He looked at the woman squarely in the eyes and could see there was much she could see and much she could not.  "The beast will not come," he said.  "And I know you know why.  But the winds of change that  are to come, those cannot be delayed.  And your children will be unable to protect you."  His voice was quite, solemn.

"Do you think so little of my people? We have been here for many generations," Analla informed. But then she caught a certain gaze within Ander's eyes and frowned.
"But I believe you know more about things than perhaps I?" she questioned, raising her brows.

At the mention of her people, Ander have the slightest smirk and he pursed his lips momentarily.  "I would never think so little of you.  Mortal kind is capable of a great many things.  And they surprise me even to this day," he said.  "But what I know cannot be shared without the highest discretion.  Your people, your way of life is in danger.  My coming was not without reason.  I rarely ever do."

"You speak of mortals as if you are not." This made her frown deepen. "Might I inquire where you are from, Ander?"

"I am from nowhere of interest," he replied testily.  "And you would do well to keep your mind in the now.  For that is where our troubles currently lie."  He sighed for a moment before turning his body to stand by the bedroll he once laid on. "Perhaps I've spent enough time here as it is.  Thank you for your hospitality, Analla.  I shall keep it in mind in the future."

[double post whoops]

Analla nodded, but still kept her frown about her; and not a moment later did a terrible beast tear through the hut, sending timber and thatch everywhere as it roared, it's face appearing to split in half, exposing rows of saliva dripping teeth that were long, needle like and dribbling red with blood.
It was almost human like, twisted with a double jaw that split apart as it's voice tore into three high pitched sounds as it cried out and slashed a massive paw towards the pair of them, sending Analla flying across the valley where she hit against the mountain's side with a crunch before she fell into the grass and went still.

Now with the hut discarded, the chaos from the camp came upon them as Drey's voice range out in a fierce battle cry as he tore across the lands, and Denera was not two feet behind him, along with a hoard of others from the village.

"He's heading towards Diora's hut!"s he exclaimed. "Quickly! We must keep him from getting there! He can not disturb the Keeper!"

And at the sounds of their voices, the creatures turned away from Ander, it's form towering over his, nearly triple his in height with shoulder curled forward from the weight of it's long arms, and it's legs, bowed and rippling with thorn like scales across it and gnarled toe-nails clawed up the ground as he rushed full force towards the nearest human in it's rage-
that human, being Ander.

[And while all this is going on, what the hell is Denera doing!?  That bitch!]

Something in his expression could subtly be read as his eyes widened, that the sounds that rang outside were more than unexpected even on his part.  His wounds had been a fallacy, created in the fabric of his disguise.  Who but a heartless cretin would turn away a wounded hunter caught in the dangers of the wilds?  But it seemed the unexpected appearance of the false beast that assailed him was a turn even the Astralwalker did not anticipate.

When the small hut was suddenly broken away, Ander was caught in the thrashing and he hurled thatch and leaves and dust and dirt from him, as the beast, in all it's monstrous glory roared and seethed and growled.  But when the horror of it's hunger was suddenly set up on him, Ander lay vulnerable from his spot still on the ground and met the beast eye to eye.  And yet for the moment the air lay heavy around him, as if time was standing still and for the moment, it did and all the motions of the frantic and fearful paused mid-action and Ghanon could better calculate the course of action before him.

For the beast was nearer than he could anticipate and would be upon him before he could properly react, Ander knew the risks of allowing the creature to devour him, and of revealing his gifts before due time, if he would at all.  To fight was his only option, to fight or die.  And now was certainly not a very convenient time to die.  It had only just begun after all. 

When the air became light and time flowed in rapid succession, the beast splayed his jaws on him.  Ander put his hands up and clenched his jaws holding them separate but away from his face.  The teeth cut into his palms and blood seeped down.  He grunted with effort as he tried to overpower it, but being on his back all he could do was to slam a foot into its chest and sent it reeling backwards, giving him a chance to climb to his feet.

Ander met the beast again as he rushed at him, but he was ready for it this time.  Despite his meager stature in his present disguise, Ander charged a powerful energy ball within his hands and ground it into the beast's core.  It howled and cried a screeching cry that made even Ander's hair stand on end.  The swiftly moving ball of energy ground into its thickened hide and soon the beast was thrown backwards, severely wounded as the energy ball dissipated.  Ander fell exhausted to the side, watching the creature howling still and trying to regain its bearings with little success.

[And sorry this took FOREVER to think a reply too.  We still need to come up with a general plot skeleton.]

OOC: Denera was right behind Drey XP

---------

Though Denera cried out the alarm, it seemed the creature took note of someone else, and she stared in horror as the creature went for the old hunt'sman. But even more so, the huntsman was able to stand his own, and the source of power, she felt it hit her.. felt.. other worldly.
Dropping to her knees, she gripped at her chest and felt her nose bleed from the power- all the while the rest of the warriors rushed past her and were upon the creature while others began to rush towards Diora's tomb.

It was only after a time of sword slashing towards the roaring beast that Drey noticed Denera was no longer at his side.

"Denera!?" he shouted, as he peered over at her fallen form. "Denera! Hurry! Get to your sister while we hold the beast off!"

But while Drey was barking orders, Denera's face was locked upon that of Ander, and a look, twisted from confusion, was plastered there.
What was he? And was Analla right?

[The lazy bish! D:  She's just standing there!]

Though the terrible creature was running toward Diora's tomb, it gave a sudden pause and turned around wildly, thrashing men back and up into the air.  Their screams were deafening as it turned about, a seemingly unstoppable force as it came barreling back toward the main core of the village camp.  And in his path stood breathlessly was Denera, stuck in her fascination.

Ander hadn't known that a beast would have come so quickly and so powerful when it had all be a fallacy, but Ghanon was beginning to suspect - and come to a solid conclusion - that a greater power was at work here.  But was it the shard?  Or was it the presence of something else that he could not yet detect?  The creature, after all, was not even supposed to exist.  And yet here they were fending it off from killing every denizen in the village.

From where the 'hunter' stood, Denera and he seemed so far apart, but when his legs acted, they had vaulted him across the grass at a great speed, even for a man sprinting for his life, and before the great beast crushed Denera in his path, Ander tackled her to the ground, holding her down and throwing her out of the way of the beast.

By then, amidst all that shouting, the men that were able had been more organized and exchanged grappling hooks mid-air, throwing them over the back of the creature and when caught and secured, they were pulled down with at least three men at a rope.  The creature shrieked with rage and frustration when it was pulled down and tied to the ground.

Ander moved from atop Denera and looked down at her.  "Didn't you hear him!?  He was coming right for you!  Are you all right?" he asked, as if her gaze had not at all been piercing.

It wasn't until she was on the ground with the gruff old man upon her did she come back to her senses. But she cared little for the beast that was now quelled as her brow furrowed as she peered up at Ander.
"You... what are you?"

OOC: Looool. you can see where her priorities are XD

[What gruff old man? ]

Ander rose from her and sighed.  "I'm the man who just saved your life," he said after a moment, wiping the sweat off his brow and holding out a hand to her to help her up from the ground.

OOC: Well ok- gruff regular man? :T

--------

Denera, not entirely sure how to digest this piece of information, took his hand instinctively while inwardly fighting over all he thoughts that now plagued her. If he had saved her life... perhaps he wasn't so bad? Though she could not shake the sense of warning and she outwardly frowned at him as she studied him.

"That's not what I meant." She told him, not about to let this subject go so easily.

"I am a man, if that's what you mean," Ander replied with some irritation.  He knew what she meant by the question, but he wasn't going to give it the dignity of a proper answer.  After all, it wasn't hers to know, and her path would be long and arduous without him in it.  Ander moved closer to check her for injuries and nodded when he found none.  Well, nothing but a few scrapes and bumps from the tackle and fall.

Denera shook her head, her gaze unyielding.
"That is also not what I meant." And she kept her gaze steady, letting him know this wasn't some sort of a game, even if he thought that keeping secrets was his business, she was going to sniff it out. Something didn't feel right, and she couldn't let this go- not if it meant the safety of her town, and of Diora.

"Then please, enlighten me as to what you meant," Ander asked, a bit perturbed, with a raised brow.

Troubled, Denera didn't know what to say or press as her lips set into a frown.
"I suppose I should stop questioning whatever this is and just thank you. You did... save my life," though by her hesitation, it was evident her perplexion would not be easy to shake.

"I wasn't sure what kind of answer you expected me to say.  I'm as flesh and blood as you are," Ander replied, frowning at her a little.  But he gave her a nod of apology regardless and gave her a small smile.  "But at least you are safe.  I told you that beast was prowling near!  But at least not many people were hurt."

Snarls from the beast drew her attention away. It seemed it was subdued, and as she witness Drey plunge his sword into the beasts skull, the beast let out one last cry before it settled into a steaming heap of blood. The men were all cheering, and soon Denera was smiling with them, her eyes solely upon Drey before she recalled the small sanctuary house of her sister.

"Please.. excuse me. I have to go check on my sister." ANd turning to look him in the eyes, uncertainty stll there, but even some apologeticness, she moved away and trotted off towards the building. And approaching the door, she hesitated, staring once more back to where the men were tending to the now dead body of the beast, and one last look over to Ander before she placed a hand upon the sanctuary door and got to her knees in prayer. Once the prayer was spoken, she scooped up a nearby candle which she lit,a nd disappeared inside.

The beast's swift death wasn't much of a sight to see and though the men cheered, Ander did not and he remembered the wound he was supposed to be nursing, and held his side.  And as he did so, he could feel the shard was not there with him.  And how he could have lost it, he didn't know.  The energy was void, and Ghanon inwardly cursed before stalking back toward the remains of the camp village.

While the monster was being tended to, Drey suddenly found his hand coming in contact with something sharp. Hissing, he with drew his hand and looked down at the blood that now seeped through the wrinkles in his palm. Blinking, he turned towards where a subtle object was jutting out from the monster's hide. Stepping forward, he plucked the dull shard from the beast and turned it over to observe it. Was this the same thing Denera found and sensed earlier? WRapping the shard hastily in a cloth, he pocketed it and turned to see where she had gone, and smiled to see her at Diora's grave. He wasn't about to interrupt her and turned back to the men, after having wrapped up his bleeding hand, and helped them drag the beast away from the town. Though as he did so, he noticed this new 'Ander' person walking by himself. Though he had no more time to spare on seeing where the man went, as he and the men bound horses to ropes and began to drag the beast away.


By the time the monster was taken out of the village, Denera was still no where to be seen, but the candle light from inside the grave began to grow weaker until finally, the candle flame went out.

Ander wandered back into the village, looking around, eying the men that took the beast's hulking form from the village.  Blue and blackish blood coated the grass from where the beast had been slain.  And in lieu of them, was Drey and Ander eyed the man with suspicion when his back was turned.  Something drew him toward him and Ander found himself following after the men to see what they would do with the creature that should have never existed.

Drey, having spotted Ander approach, gave him a slight smile.
"You aiming to tag along to help? There's an earthen pit about half a mile.from here that eats whatever you toss into it like some sort of beast. We aim to drop the body in there." And giving the man a more.roguish grin, he added, "It's actually pretty thrilling to watch. Maybe a little scary as well!" And he laughed.

"Pits don't frighten me," Ander added and ran behind the rest of the men as they dragged and pulled and tugged the great beast through the trees.  He walked beside Drey and viewed the man's profile from the side.  "You did well, bringing down that creature.  You command your men well.  They respect you.  Are you the captain of the warriors of this village?  Or would that be the younger woman that disappeared into the tomb?"

Drey gave a chuckle.
"I'd like to say it's a community effort," And he flashed Ander a smile. "Although Denera, the woman whom you speak of, does hold a lot of power here, though I'd like to think I can handle commanding a few men during a crisis." He said, playfully boasting as he studied the other man. "Though I guess you came tot he right village for help. This creature is peculiar- can't say I've ever seen a monster like it before."

Ander grinned.  "You handled them well," he complimented, peering at Drey from the corner of his eye before turning toward the men that dragged the beast through the woods.  It was indeed gargantuan in size and ideally could have killed all of them in the village, even him.  Ideally however, it should not have even existed.  It could have been a coincidence, and just as well, Ghanon knew better than to put much stock in such things.  Hardly anything was out of the ordinary.

"It was the only village I remember passing through here," Ander went on.  He pulled up his shirt and showed his gored side, now patched and ready healed.  "I suppose however if it weren't for me, the beast just as likely wouldn't have found his way here.  I didn't not mean to bring such a thing to your village.  For that I'm sorry.  The least I can do, however, is to help you dispose of it."

Drey gave a nod and turned to pat Ander on the shoulder.
"We'll never turn down the help!" And his scruffy beard was split by the whites of his teeth as he grinned. "So where are you from? If you don't mind me asking. Seems like you're not from around these parts."A nd eh glanced over at the monster. "Nor is this creature. It's a peculiar situation, I'll tell ya. I bet Denera is on edge. There's so many prophecies and warning dreams she and the others have... but only Denera can really do anything about it. I just wonder if this monster was a part of them."

The pat was unsurprising, but Ander jumped a little anyway.  He gave an awkward laugh and a grin and nodded to the hunter as they walked along.  "I am from the Sirantil Valley up north.  Lots of bad business going on there so I came south to get away from it all and to do some hunting.  As you can see, I should be more careful that what I hunt isn't hunting me," he smirked a little.

"But I don't know anything about prophecies.  What could that have to do with anything?  I'm sure it's all just a coincidence," he replied with half a frown.

Drey shook his head.
"Not around here it's not." And at the mention of the Sirantil Valley, he cocked a brow.
"A Connlaothian?" he wrinkled his nose. "The air up there is bad too. War's a brewin'." he said, matter of fact. "It's probably safer down here with monsters." And he flashed Ander a toothy grin.
"So why no faith in prophecies? Ever had a bad one done unto you?"

"I guess, life has a funny way of turning out.  I always believed I was meant for things other than hunting," Ander confessed.  "But sometimes you just don't have a choice, even though you fight all  your life to make it right."  He shrugged and gestured to the beast.  "So what could an animal like that possibly mean?  I mean, other than throwing it into a giant pit, couldn't you find some use for it?  Seems like quite a waste.  Perhaps it is better to see what more you can find out about it first.

Drey frowned at such an idea.
"This monster... it's not natural. My people- we would see it as a bad omen to keep it around." And he spared one look to Ander before he and the others approached the pit, whcih looked like nothing more than a pile of dirt at the bottom of a cliff.

"This is the hole of no return," Drey said with a smirk. "Mind helping me do the honors? You brought the beast, it might be fitting if you help me eliminate it."

He had to admit it, he didn't like the idea of being so close to a bottomless pit.  Certainly it would not kill him, but it only brought on the sensation he had tried for eternity to push away.  The sensation of banishment, the loss of love, the suffocation, the coldness...the loneliness.  Ander's eyes widened as he looked over the edge and the stench of death it emanated.

Though he frowned, he looked at Drey and nodded to the hunter.  "I will help you.  Though it is large.  I cannot do it alone.  Give me a hand would you."  As the beast was placed just on the precipice, a shake breath left Ander that took on mist in the cool morning air.  He placed both hands on the hulking creature before pushing with all his might to cast it into the pit.

The second the beast's carcass fell into the pit, it seemed to hit the dirt, but once it did- it kept going, until it was completely devoured. Drey kept his eyes upon the beast until it was out of sight before he released a breathy laugh and smiled towards Ander.

"Want to join us back at the village for a few drinks? The spirits know you deserve it."

Ander gave a weak smile, awkward after watching the body of the great beast plunge down into the eternal darkness below.  He was about to walk away from the pit when he suddenly felt something reach around his ankle and grab him.  Ander cried out and he slipped to the ground, falling hard on his back and being dragged down toward the edge.

It was a tentacle or a vine of some kind that pulled viciously on him.  Ander grabbed a root that protruded from the edge and he held onto it for dear life.  "DREY!  DREY!"

Drey hit the dirt and offered out his hand, gripping onto Ander's arm as he growled and pulled.
"HOLD ONTO ME, ANDER! DON'T LET GO!"

Ander held onto Drey's arm desperately and clung to him.  He cast a glance behind him and saw the black vine of some creature below extending up from the darkness, trying to pull him down.  "No, don't let go!" he yelled out.  "Pull me up!  Pull me up!"  The tentacle was strong, tense and yanked Ander down, causing him to yelp and try to kick it off.

Snarling, Drey could only think of one thing.
"HOLD ON!" and tearing one arm away from Ander- he hefted up his sword, and smashed it down onto the creature. It let out a hiss and  with a second chop- the tentacle snapped and Ander was free- and since Drey was still pulling, both men were jerked backwards and landed in a heap on the ground.

Ander felt dizzy the moment his stomach hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of him.  He was panting hard but eventually climbed to his feet and held a hand out to Drey.  "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Drey nodded and patted Ander on the back.
"Yes, before... well, let's just get out of here!" And he lead Ander back into town. By the time they were returning, Denera was returning from the grave, and noticed the two men on the road.

"Hey!" she called over to them, but her smile faltered upon seeing Ander, but Drey smiled and waved back at her.

"How's Diora?"

Denera went quiet a moment before shrugging. "She... it was quiet." And at that, Drew went quiet, but then she turned her attention to Ander. "What were you two up to?"

"Disposing of the monster. We took it to the pit." Drey shrugged, but Denera gave one look to Ander before turning away.


OOC: Is it sad I forgot who was Denera and who Diora? 8D

Ander took a moment and looked over curiously at Denera.  "Are you all right?" he asked, striding a little faster than Drey.  "You were hurt in the fall.  I mean when I pulled you down.  You should let the old woman see you."

Denera tried to ignore him. She wanted to ignore him-a nd this mess. It did not make sense- and Diora was never quiet.
"I'll be fine," she commented. "I'm obviously able to walk and talk on my own, perhaps you should be more concerned about yourself." And she continued to walk, evne a little quicker so Ander couldn't keep up- or so she hoped.

Ander slowed back down towards Drey as she walked on ahead.  "Is she always like that?" he asked with a flicker of a smile.

Drey tried to tuck back his smile.
"You'll have to forgive Denera," he said, patting the other man on the back. "SHe's got a lot on her plate. Speaking of plate- you up for that drink?"

Ander had cut his eyes back to Drey at the mention of a drink and he nodded.  "After that near-death experience, I think I might double a pint, or triple.  Lead the way, man."

Drey escorted Ander to the small wooden structure that held all of the small village's alcohol and food supplies. This wasn't a town where you paid for anything in money, but bartered for this and that. But Drey had a tab owed to him- and calling it out, he got a few bottles and gave a hefty one to Ander.

"That's moonshine made by Old Man Taeller." Drey grinned and popped open his own corked bottle. "Just be careful how much you drink! This stuff can be lethal!" ANd he knocked back a hearty swig.

Ander was looked at the moonshine with some hesitation before leering at him as he downed some.  "How much of that are you planning to drink?" he asked with a sheepish half-grin.  Ander gathered his gumption and popped the cork as well before taking a small sip.  He coughed and nearly gagged, choking on the strong fire that burned his throat.

Drey laughed.
"Enough to get a little drunk, but not too annoying, as Denera puts it!" He flashed Ander a toothy grin. "You should be wise yourself. We both don't want to fall beneath her wrath!"

Ander barked a laugh, slowing his cough.  "I doubt she'd pay me much heed with how she regards me thus far.  Besides I bet you coin I can hold my liquor better than you can."  And he tossed back another swig and only choked a little less than last time.

Drey's eyes shined playfully.
"Is that a challenge?"

"And what if it were?"

Drey's expression changed dramatically as he turned around, but laughed to see Denera approaching them.
"Coming here to join us?"

Denera rolled her eyes and strolled forward before taking a seat beside Drey.
"Something like that," she said, a response that elicited a laughing howl from Drey.

"Well let's bring on the drinks! It's been ages since we've shared some proper moon shine!" And he lifted his freshly poured glass to them both before pouring one that nearly over flowed for Denera.

The woman accepted the drink and drank it in silence after their toast, but she hardly seemed as amicable as the other two as her eyes drifted around the small place, while one hand remained agitated and drumming upon her lap.

Ander was about to answer when it seemed Denera came in to do that for him.  Her interruption sent a chill down his spine and he turned grimly toward his glass of the simmering liquid.  After a few minutes of quiet thought, he flicked his wrist back and tossed back another swig.

As Drey's boisterous nature continued, she realized his companion had also turned somber. Curiously, she peered over at Ander and studied him in silence.

Ander did not meet her gaze and drank in silence.  In fact, he pretended she wasn't even there as he knocked back another sip of the bottle, able to handle more now than before and laughed at Drey's sudden knock back of another of the moon shine and he watched him hiccup a bit.

"You men seem to take in quite a lot of drink," Denera said with a shake of her head, sipping away at her own cup before realizing, it had somehow become empty.

"Right, and only the best of them can handle it," Ander quipped, not even glancing in her direction as he 'ahhh'd the next sip of moonshine as if it were as refreshing a water.

Drey gave a laugh.
"And I'm probably not one of them!"

At such a comment, Denera shook her head, blushing as she peered down at her glass before rising. "Well, I've had my share already. I hope you gentleman will find yourself soon doing the same." And with a nod, she left.

Ander didn't even acknowledge she left and instead cut his eyes to Drey.  "Are you finished?" he asked curtly.

Seeming not to read into Ander's mood change, Drey let out a laugh and rose his glass. "Finished? But we've only just begun!" And he moved to refill his mug, ever thirsty to continue his road into inebriation.

"Then you can enjoy your drinks, Drey. Thank you for the hospitality.  Take care of him won't you?"  The last question was directed at the publican who nodded his head as Drey downed another drink and Ander wandered out the door.

As Ander exited the tent, it was Denera who greeted him now. And she did not beat around the bush as to why she was there.
"How long to you intend to stay in the village?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest. "With all of this... chaos going on, you'll have to forgive me for my bluntness. But I can't help but be curious. If you're staying here, you'll need a tent or cabin in which to rest. And as a protector of this village, chosen by divine right, I must know the details of what's going on so I can maintain order as civily as I can." Even if she was still on the fence about trusting him- she never was one to ignore her gut instinct anyway. She'd just hav eto be wary and watch him, like a hawk.

Ander regarded her with as much wariness as she did him and he tilted his head if only slightly.  "I don't think I'm well enough to travel on my own for quite some time. At least a week or two at worst," he said after some thought.  "I don't mean to be a burden.  But I would gladly repay you for nny hospitality you would show me."

"A week or two?" Denera made a face, and did not hide her contempt.  "And you expect to just... remain here then?" Though it wasn't such a posed question as her repeating what he said with a frown.

"I see you're opposed to it," Ander said with a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his head.  "I will earn my keep, whatever you need help with, rebuilding what was destroyed, I can lend a hand in.  I don't intend to just loaf around."

Denera shook her head.
"It isn't that!" She protested. "You have a.. bad omen about you." She gestured towards him with her head. "I can feel it in the winds. And as a... Protector of this village," she went on, choosing her words carefully. "My people come first. Always."

Ander straightened, cocking his head at angle. "I have no ill will toward you or your people, Denera," he said with a frown.  "I had warned you that a beast was coming this way, the one that attacked me.  But it wasn't my intention to bring harm to your people.  I'm sorry for that.  If...if you wish me to leave...then I will.  I understand you have responsibilities to uphold."

Denera looked him over with a sharp eye.
"No. I would not cast you out. You had helped us." But even that she was wary of. "You can room with Drey. I'm sure he'll have enough space in his place."
And she moved to turn away, but paused to add, "And yes. I have many responsibilities." And she gave him one warning look before turning away and moving off.

Ander tilted his head and watched her go.  He gave a chuckle and suddenly he shouted.  "Oh thank you for your mercy, oh lovely and bountiful, Denera!" he howled with glee and other villagers turned around to look at him and then her.  "I Will Not Forget Your Generosity!"

Denera cut him a look as she walked away, then one to Drey as he approached Ander at his side. The man patted him upon the shoulder.
"Guess we're bunk buddies!" he said with a laugh. "Come on! I can show you the way!"

"I think somebody needs to bunk with her, maybe she'd take that stick out of her ass," Ander said idly and followed Drey to his lodgings.  The people here who didn't have much certainly made the most of what they did have and it was definitely comfortable, covered in trophies and skins obviously collected from hunts or battle of some kind.  Ander turned slowly, taking it all in.  "So," he sighed.  "Where do I sleep?"

Drey laughed, still obviously drunk.
"Careful what you say there buddy, Denera will have you strung up for the jackals. This way," and he lead the man through a weaving path through a series of small cottages until pausing just before one beside an old pine.

"Here it is!" he said, throwing the door open. "Home sweet home." Then pointedly, he turned to Ander. "Er, and don't mind the mess. It's been a few, er... weeks since I've tidied the place up." He really had no reason to keep it immaculate, anyway until now! But it would be evident that, despite some of the chaotic look to his place, there was one small section set aside that held a few trinkets that were evidently treasured, for they were neatly displayed among the rest. A lock of hair, a glove, a small, smooth round stone, and a simple gold ring on a chain. Everything else nearby it seemed insignificant, swallowed by a mess of clothing needing to be washed.

Laundry always was Drey's achilles heel...

"Honestly...it doesn't smell nearly as bad as I expected it to," Ander admitted, eyeing the firt laundry.  "Well, then.  Where does a guest of your sleep?  I wouldn't want to impose or anything.  I can see you have a space for everything and everything has it's space."

"There's a small room in the back. I have a spare cot. I can set you up in there." And as he moved to do so, he peered over his shoulder at Ander.
"You hungry or need anything at all? Can't imagine how you must be feeling after all that occurred. Just be thankful you ran into our little village than any other. Some places man... They just don't open their doors to strangers."

"I don't think I could blame them, in times like these.  I'll take my luck where I can get it," Ander replied, barking a laugh. It was forced to say the least, but there wasn't much more he could do.  "I think I'll just get settled in, thanks for everything Drey."  He clasped arms with the man before moving toward the back room Drey indicated.  When the bedding and pillows were handed to him, he set up the small cot to his own comfort and laid down upon it.  He'd nearly forgotten what it was like to be bound to an earthly body, and frankly it was exhausting.

As night rolled in, an unsettling storm raged on, the thunder loud enough to shake the earth, and the lightning so bright it lit up the sky. The winds were howling, the rains pelting the sides of Drey's small home, and it creaked and groaned against the winds.

And Denera wasn't sure what compelled her to step out into the night, her body now slicked thoroughly with rain as she rushed, bare foot towards her sister's grave, but something compelled her to go there. Fighting against the rain and wind, she finally made it to the door and threw the thing open, and was surprised at who she saw.

"Drey?"

Soaking, dripping wet, the dark haired man turned to her with a smile.

"Did you feel it too?" he asked. Denera went silent, holding a breath.

"Yeah."

And it was here he lifted up a shimmering sliver.
"I found this," Drey went on to explain, and Denera's brows furrowed.

"That's the shimmering object we found earlier." She peered up at him curiously. "Where did you get this?"

"With all of the chaos going on, it was strange. I simply found it, just laying in the tall grass. I wonder if it's another piece of what we had found earlier-"

But Denera stopped him with a frown. "Or the same piece."

Drey gave a curious raising of his brows.

"What makes you think it could be the same."
And Denera kept her frown.

"I just have a hunch. Give he glass shard to me. Perhaps we ought to keep it here int he grave. No one should be in here." And she cut a look to Drey. "Even you..."

Drey gave a sheepish smile and stared from Denera to where the corpse of Diora lay, wrapped in a simple clothe upon a stone bed.

"Sometimes I get lonely without her."

And Denera paused to listen to the heavy fall of the rain.

"I know." And a flash of lightning lit up the tombe. "I do too."

"It was so long ago it seemst his all happened... but it truly has not even been that long. I still miss her."

And awkwardly, Denera studied the man a moment before crossing hte distance and embracing him tight.

"We'll get through this, we always do. Diora was a strong one and she's still with us, even if... if her mortal body no longer is. Her spirit lives on."

And when Drey pulled awy, he was smiling but brushing back a pesky tear.

"That's what you always say. But it's so hard to swallow." But he gave an appreciative nod her way. "Thanks. I don't know how I could get through all of this without you. I love both you and your sister so much. It's just unfortunate I never could have become your brother."

And Denera gave the man a nod, swallowing back the knot in her throat. It felt so strange, to be talking to him this way. It always did. But that was because she had truly loved him, too.

"It's late. You should head to bed."

Drey gave her one of his smiles.
"You should do the same," and he moved to open the doora nd shivered at the falling rain. "It's quite a night, huh?" And he laughed before disappearing into the rain.

The shadows in the night were not difficult to miss to the bare eyes of mortal men.  But Ghanon wasn't like other men and his vision captured the motion of someone running across the grasses and through the trees.  If by nothing more than curiosity, he felt the need to follow her.  It was Denera.  Ghanon frowned grimly, sticking to the shadows behind her.  She was a cold bitch if there ever was one, with a big mouth to boot.  He supposed there were worst traits in a woman, but such contemplation was best left for another time, in another world.

All he was here for was the shard, and much to his dismay, he seemed to have misplaced the one he thought he had taken and hidden away.  Dammit if those shards weren't slippery sons-o-bitches, he cursed internally.

She moved quickly through the rain and sloppy sticky mud that clung to his own boots as he trailed after her.  But soon came the tombstone and he paused, watching her enter.  The voices within...were clearly that of Denera and the other male, Drey.  He listened for as long as he had to, splayed out on the roof of the tomb, rain pelting atop him, his insides growing more and more twisted as he realized his foolishness.  How could he have been such a dolt as to have dropped the only thing he needed in the first place?

And soon he watched Drey depart, putting up the rain-slicked leather hood of his coat over his head and heading out back to the village.  Ghanon paused, leering over the edge of the roof, but not quite moving just yet, knowing Denera had not yet departed.

Denera lingered. It wasn't an easy thing to do. Her and Diora had always been close; and death was just one complication from keeping them that way. But she could still feel her, still wanted to believe they were both connected- even as far fetched as it might be.
And how could she begin to describe it? Most outside of her village would think her crazy to believe there was more to the dead than just that.

But she knew better, and the world depended on it.

She wasn't quite ready to say goodbye, but goodnight would have to suffice. But she lingered, pausing at the doorway to examine the shining object before slipping it beside her sister's corpse.
A flash of lightning made her jump as she turned her head to the door.

But there was no one, and she sighed with some relief, even as a large rumble of thunder shook the ground. Marking her blessing, she bowed to her sister to wish her a good night before moving towards the door and out into the rain.

Goddamn was it a  long time of waiting and only when Ghanon saw her form moving away did he feel secure enough to creep from his hiding place.  His body practically melted into the stonework of the tomb ceiling, his form incorporeal and shimmering like water as he passed through the barrier.  He landed with a soft thud and stood over Diora's covered body. 

The energy!  Damn the gods it was intoxicating!  Ghanon held his breath as he approached the glistening shard he could see just waiting for him beneath the cover and placed delicately on the body.  "You are mine at last," he said and pulled the cover from the body.

And that's when a voice came from behind him.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. And quickly, because if Denera were the one to catch you, she'd have your balls hanging from a post." He had his sword out and ready, as he leaned against the door. His cheeks were still ripe from the drinking, but he never once tore his eyes away from Ander.

Ghanon knew it was too good to be true.  It didn't take too many instances of self-deprecating 'I told you so' to set him straight.  Ghanon peered up at Drey and then to the sword in his hand.  Well, they didn't call it liquid courage for nothing. 

Ghanon reached for the shard regardless of Drey's direction and the man appeared fumbled at his lack of obedience.  He clutched it gingerly before placing it inside his coat pocket, where it would stay securely and be sure it wouldn't be dropped again.  And then he smiled, coldly before he filled his fingertips with tiny sparks of electric energy.

Drey felt a sudden tug against his body, as Ghanon shot out a tangible telekinetic force, and his frail body flung from the door way and up against the ceiling of the tomb where he felt his back crack with brutal force.  Ghanon dropped him once more and did it again, pressing him harder this time and the air was pushed out of his lungs.  He couldn't scream for all the pain he was in and he wasn't sure what more was broken when at last Ghanon dropped him to the ground, still beside Diora's body.

She had an odd feeling course through her. I twas a strange feeling, one that twisted into a light, chilling feeling in her gut. She hadn't made it to her tent yet, and as she neared it, she found herself pausing and peering over her shoulder- and she couldn't help but feel as if she needed to go back to Diora.

And soon she was running, running through the down pouring ran, and by the time she threw the door open- she realized she was too late.

"You!" she drew her weapon and pointed it right at him. "You've stepped into a sacred area you should not, outsider. Prepare yourself, for the Gods will pass judgement on you today."

Ghanon cackled, throwing his head back in a great guffaw.  "You really should listen to yourself sometimes.  Do you ever understand the words coming out of your mouth?  I mean in comparison to the reality of life.  The gods will judge me...that never gets old," he said as his laughing eased just enough for him to step forward, unfazed by her drawn blade.

"Stand aside, little girl.  Before you hurt yourself playing with that thing."

Denera's face remained hard as stone.
"Explain yourself, or it will be you who is harmed by this blade," she threatened.

Ghanon laughed, cackling at best and stepped closer to her.  "There's little to explain.  You had something that belonged to me and I came to claim it," he said, and smiled fully at her.  "Trust me, darling, the less you know the better.  This is a small world you live in.  It's pathetic, but I can't blame you.  It's all you know."

"You dare mock me and my people?" Her eyes narrowed as she stood at the ready, and she waited not but another moment before throwing out a quick slash of her blade at his face.

She couldn't be serious!  Ghanon laughed again, vanishing and appearing behind her, as the rain came down, soaking his jacket, his hair, his face.  And when the lightning flashed, it illuminated nothing more than a silhouette, a ghost with starry eyes.

"A shame.  Such a pity.  You are bound only by these people...but there's so much more than you could possibly fathom.  You're sister knew that.  I felt it, when I took it from her.  But look how she is, where she is.  Maybe she's better off dead."

Denera growled as she bared her teeth.
"Perhaps it is you, who is better off dead!" she spat, turning around to point her blade at him. "And that item does not belong to you. Release it or I'll be forced to take it from you."
Though she tried to sound brave, she was trying not to be deterred by his display of magics.

Ghanon grit his teeth, though part of him wanted to be amused.  She was pathetic, what harm could she bring to him?  "You want it.  You come and get it!" he challenged.

Not a woman to back down from a challenge, she gripped her weapon tight and came charging at him- fully aiming to strike deep at the arm that held the shard.

Ghanon felt the blade seep into vulnerable flesh and he wailed outward when the blade severed his arm.  Or so it would appear when it landed in the soft underbrush and Ghanon vanished, only to reappear behind her with the shard in tow, unmarred.  "You're so cute when you're mad, you know that," he said with a grin.

Whirling around, she was shocked to see him whole. Gripping her blade tighter, she taunted, "Demon! You will not make it out of this alive!" And she prayed that her God's powers could burn him, like the sun, as she struck out her blade again. She'd cut that arm off a million times if she had to. She couldnt let him get away, not when her sister's life was at stake..  and those of her people.

Ghanon met her blade with his braces, the edge surging and sparking blue sparks as metal met to metal.  The symbols on his braces alit with green energy, and he pushed his arm upward, to send her blade reeling and launched a fist against her gut.

Her blade was cast aside, and she, barely keeping a grip on it, especially after he hit her in the stomach and she doubled over. But as she felt the blade slip, she stumbled to grasp it tighter, and bring the blade upwards to slash at him again.

Ghanon hadn't foreseen her to maintain the grip on her blade, and he barely got his bracer up in time to block the incoming blow.  But he stumbled backwards, barely catching himself from tumbling to the ground.  "Is that all you've got!?" he growled.

She swung at him hard again.
"Of course not!"
And again.
"I will not stop until you are through!"

Ghanon had enough of this squirrely foolishness and struck back against every blow she swung at him.  He charged his hands with an unearthly glow, his magic surging in his hands, and he reached up to snatch her wrists, the magic burning into her flesh as she came at him again.  "I'll tear your soul apart," he said with a dangerous growl, and began the slow painful process of pulling the very life from her bones.

It was at that very moment she realized she needed very real help. And not even seconds later she could feel a secondary presence course through her and come out through her weapon like an unseen shield. And to Gannon, it would feel as if his magic were swirling away from his target like a redirected tornado of energy.

His eyes were reddened and teeth grit in rage.  "What!?" he howled as he watched his magic flow away from her.  He could feel a new presence, a foreign one, but still very similar to Denera's, as if it were apart of her.  As their power clashed, Ghanon suddenly felt that force collide into his chest and it knocked the pair apart like a nuclear reactor and he saw the shard fallen between them.

Stunned, Denera remained in the ground as she caught her breath. What had just happened? It almost felt like...
"Diora?"
And the flashing of the shard sobered her as she took one look at it and went charging its way.

Ghanon was in a daze and when he saw Denera charging for the shard, he scrambled to his feet and made a running leap for it.  His hands grew hot and shot a bolt of energy her way. 

But his energy was deflected, and in a most unusual way. The power that surged towards her split open into millions of tiny threads, and looped up, around and overtop of Denera before they surged forward, aiming to return back to the hands from whence they came.

Ghanon thinned his form, passing through the energy bolt like air.  He landed hard beside the shard and dug his hands into the dirt around it, but it vanished like the wind.  He growled in frustration, at the invading force that was aiding Denera and the shard was suddenly mid-air, just floating there as if it chose to suspend itself just like that.

Denera was nearly cross-eyed when the shard had come to her. She hadn't known what she was doing or what was happening, but in seconds she snatched the shard from the air and held up her sword.

"This is not meant for you. Be gone, before the Threads will put you in your place!"

It wasn't all that happened.  Ghanon froze, staring in awe as the world around them suddenly shifted, changing with the shard in Denera's grasp.  The world around them glittered like crystal and began to break away like torn pieces of fabric until all that engulfed them was darkness.  Ghanon, in that final second, lunged for Denera, and fell into her forming world of blackness.

And as he fell towards her she brought her sword down heavily.
Then all was black.

Echoes.

They were heavy drowning echoes that flowed through his ears and out of his mouth as if he were saying them.  But he couldn't remember forming the words.  Ghanon opened his eyes to reflection all around him, what seemed to be a hall - or was it maze? - of mirrors.

Before him was Denera and her blade.  He kicked that aside and he reached for her, looking for a pulse.

And that's when words whispered, and tickled all around him- moving like unseen worms or snakes.

"Do not touch her."

"She is at peace."

"Let her rest."

They seemed to say, all at once, but in a line, and coming at him from all angles.

"Wake up!" he growled, and kicked Denera's side.  If anything pain reached the senses quicker than bliss.  Whatever fantasy this was, he wanted to know, and he wanted out!  The shard was his!  And he'd skin her slowly and satisfyingly if she wasn't careful.

"It is hard to understand, but you can not reach her here," came the voice.
"She can not exist, and it is only I to whom you can speak."

The voice did throw him off guard, and he held Denera by the hair, half-lifting her unconscious body.  "And who, might I ask, cretin, are you?"

"The woman whom you hold and followed here is my sister, and I.... am the Keeper."

"Keeper of foolish nonsense," Ghanon huffed and pulled Denera along the hall of mirrors, still gripping her hair.

And the voice simply replied, "And you would do well not to treat one so sacred with such careless disregard."

Ghanon dropped Denera and peered up through the halls.  He made no reply to the intruding voice.  Whoever this 'Keeper' was, all they seemed to do was talk and gave no action. 

He saw his reflection the crystalline glass, and knew then they were not in a fantasy, but in the crystal itself.  Should they wake, that would be the world reshaped.

There was a figment before him, just the flash of a frown, and the ghostly hollows of what could be eyes. Though even in this mystical view, they appeared milky white and as useless as they had been during her waking life. And the phantom said nothing, appearing barely there at all as she moved past Ghannon and knelt beside Denera's form.

"What do you want?  Who are you?"

"Question only I might ask. For this world is me, and you are an anomaly."
The vision paused to observe him.
"I am the Keeper. But Denera might have called me by my birth name-  Diora."

Ghanon turned to her.  "You're the girl on the slab.  What makes you the Keeper?  The Keeper of what exactly?"

"Yes, it is I who sleeps. But in doing so, I've become wholly connected to this world that exists in the middle."

"And where, may I ask, are we?"

"In the middle."

"Within the middle of Denera's dream," Ghanon added, understanding a little more.  They were in the shard, or the shard had activated something, and they were presently in some sort of subconscious limbo.  "And what do you wish me to do then?" he asked.  "I cannot simply leave without the shard.  I must return it to its rightful owner."

"The shard?" Her voice made the place ripple with the question. "Do you mean the piece of chaos?"

"Yes.  Perhaps if that is what you call it.  It cannot remain here.  Only trouble will come of it," he said.

"This I know," she told him calmly. "And I can sense you yearn for it. But this item is not meant for any world, or any man."

"Then you should know that it could only be safe with one such as I."

"Safety would not be secure in your hands, for you are a man, and this object is beyond all of us."

"I am more than man," he hissed, growing irritated.  "I understand the power of the shard.  And it is dangerous in ignorant hands.  Surrender it now and free us from this realm.  If you care for your sister's well-being, you will do this."

"Both options are impossible," she told him simply. "And I can only see what is truth." She tilted her head curiously, or so it might have seemed, but her expression always seemed empty.
"The shard would wreck you, wreck the world. No where is it safe."

"I have already suffered much," Ghanon said softly and looked to Diora imploringly.  "But I can take it away from this world before it does further harm to others."

"All the world is connected. Even now, your presence makes ripples."

"And I'm assuming these are bad ripples?"

"Ripples are not good or bad. They just are. Like the air."

Ghanon was quickly growing tired of this woman's impossible prattle.  He sighed and tried to touch one of the glass walls.  It rippled just as to be expected and he looked all around him.  "This is Denera's dream?  It leaves a lot to be desired, does it not?"

"Desire is of no consequence here. But no. This is no dream."

"Hm, emptiness then?  She spends her days protecting your corpse, in your state of stasis.  Perhaps that is why this place is blank.  She has no desire.  She has nothing for herself.  She gives you her everything, and all you can do is take it.  I see the kind of sister you are," Ghanon said with venom.

Why the venom was there was lost to her.
"This is not emptiness," she simply stated. "This is what should and should not be. The world inbetween."
Perhaps he did not understand- but he wasn't dreaming, and neither was she. Nor was Denera. In fact, this realm was not one for those of the living. Though Ghannon's presence here should not be, she still appeared unphased by it as she simply looked at him without a want, or care.

"A world in between huh?  Say, is this a world you control?" Ghanon asked curiously.  This plane wasn't one he was familiar with and frankly there was a very deep physicality here he found rather unnerving.

"Control? I do not understand what you mean."

"If the question begs repeating, perhaps I'll take that as a no," he said with a smile.  Ghanon moved over to Denera's sleeping form and scooped her body up.  She was lighter than he would have expected, and Ghanon began to move then, carrying her with him as they traipsed this long expanse of white.

Diora blinked as she watched the man pick up her sister.
"You should not linger here," came her voice. "The weight of balance must be kept." Although it seemed an urgent topic, again, the blind woman's voice was even and without much behind.