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| >> Campfire Creative >> Fiction >> Fantasy >> ID #1215633 |   |
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| [Introduction]
I'm trying to keep this brief. Rules: 1. Please, no magic! 2. No explixit sex scenes, no profanity, other than made up(by Kyda!...or something like that) These are the four classes, or races. Dragonian: Tall, dark hair and eyes and both nomadic and tribal.They despise the Eloin, or Others as they often call them. The Eloin frequently massacres entire tribes of Dragonians. The name Dragonians comes from a legend about dragons possibly existing beyond the Rim. (The truth or falsehood of this legend is up to you!) Fierce fighters known for their well-trained war stallions and longbow skills. Because of the constant battles, they are also known for their knowledge of herbs. (Celtic roots) [main tribe is Shinar] Aquila: An offshoot of the Dragonians. Lighter-colored hair is more common. Live on the sea shore. Friendly to the Dragonian people. Neutral in regards to the war between the Eloin and the Dragonians. Has the only warriors who use a double-headed lance. Eloin, sometimes called Others: Have very light hair and often blue eyes, though not always. Ruled by a king, but many smaller groups function alone. Consider all other races inferior. They build castles, make swords...(medieval time) [main castle is Blackmoor Castle] Hybrid: Half-breeds between any of the factions. Rejected by most of the races, those who cannot hide their bloodline create their own small settlements. [main settlement is Pennywick] Once you've chosen one, feel free to insert your character into the story. My only request, do follow the culture for these races. (i.e. A Dragonian will not like an Eloin unless there is a good reason to do so.) Obviously, don't kill or fall in love with a character without permission. |
 Arwen9  Name: JinAge: 26 Class: Dragonian Appearance: 6' 5, jet black hair down to his shoulders, emerald eyes. Personality: Stubborn, quiet, likes to get his own way. A natural leader. Special Talents/Abilities: Decent at the longbow, excells with the lance. Good horseman. Past: His betrothed died in childbirth after being ravished by an Other. The child, (Elam) was adopted by him. Because of this, he does not look down on Hybrids. Jin's brother was also killed during the same Other attack. This has made it difficult for him to trust, or love, anyone. It was automatic. Jin's eyes snapped open and in one smooth motion, he was on his feet. One hand held his dagger, while the other hid the crystal medallion dangling from his neck. Its flash could easily alert an enemy to his presence. He eyed the dim plains around him. Something had awakened him, but what? Both of the moons had waned to pale, thin crescents that shed little light. What light there was only revealed the usual things. Horses tossing their heads, a few trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and what was left of his tribe, still sleeping, circled the dying campfire. Elam muttered in his sleep. His blonde hair gleamed in the moonlight like a beacon. Jin flicked a glance down at his son, and then tugged the fleece over Elam's head, before slinking around the small camp. With the Other attack force dogging his heels, he knew from hard experience to be suspicious of everything. A whisper of footsteps snapped his head up. He melted into the shadows and waited. A dark figure crossed where he had been a moment before. Silently, Jin slunk behind him. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Name: DaliahAge: 22 Appearance: 5’ 10, curly brown hair that falls halfway down her back, deep blue eyes, well muscled Personality: Outspoken(this usually gets her into trouble), a loner, takes no nonsense, but proud Special Talents/Abilities: swordplay, archery, and can nearly communicate with her horse Past: Abandoned at birth, she was raised by a soldier who taught her swordplay and archery. Often she is haunted by memories of her parents and the death of her guardian. Daliah crept through the trees, her light feet making little noise upon the ground. A shaft of moonlight fell upon her and she stiffened, fear driving a stake through her heart. She shook her head to clear the emotions away and quickly darted beneath the shade of a large elm. She did not much care for people in these times, since they had left Gaharis to die. She closed her eyes and, ashamed, wiped the tears from her cheek. K-George Name: Eppie Age: 23 Race: Hybrid (Aquila/Eloin) Appearance: An unusual young lady, Eppie’s locks are an almost white blonde that fall in a curly cascade down to her hip. Her pale green almond-shaped eyes complement her fair freckled complexion, and are most of the time gleaming in a amused light. Personality: A bright and happy girl who is a natural entertainer with a knack for being able to weasel a smile out of almost anyone. She is a hard worker and not easy to anger, except when people talk about/make fun of her Eloin lineage. Special Talents: Knows quiet a bit about medicinal herbs, and can hold her own with a light weight rapier. History: Eppie was born into the settlement of Pennywick, and lived there for sixteen years before striking out to forge a life of her own. It didn’t take her long to find out just how obvious her Eloin bloodlines were to people and how bad it was to be called an “Other”. After a vicious beating outside a tavern, she learned how to handle a rapier and to hide her parentage by stuffing her hair under a wide brimmed straw hat. After trying to make a home with the Eloin people and being cast out because she was of ‘impure blood’, she wanders from town to town, looking for a place to make her own. ---------------------------------- Eppie was beginning to wonder if she would ever find home again. Of course, she probably should have never left Pennywick to start with, but she had been so bound and determined to ‘find her own way,’ as she had told her mother, that she had never taken into consideration just how unaccepting some people could be. The truth was, no one was as nice as the people from Pennywick. The Dragonians were overly bitter towards anyone who even resembled an ‘Other’, and the Eloins were so stuck up that they didn’t accept anyone into their society that was not of pure blood. She sighed and went back to poking at her fire, a futile attempt at keeping it alive. She heard a rustling and her green eyes snapped up, searching for the source. Her gaze settled on the camp not very far from hers, the one of Dragonian refugees that she could only assume were running from the Eloin. ‘Strange,’ she thought to herself, eyeing the seemingly sleepy settlement with a newfound curiosity. ‘I thought they had all gone to sleep a while ago.” Briefly Eppie pondered what she should do before reaching a conclusion and grabbing her hat and rapier. She piled all of her hair up on the top of head and placed her hat on top of it, before shimmying up a nearby tree to get a closer look. Once she reached the fourth branch, she turned to watch the encampment, pale green eyes searching for movement. Savannah is Confuzzled Name: NiamhAge: 23 Gender: Female Class: Hybrid Appearance: She has dark brown hair and light blue eyes, 5'8", skinny yet strong. Personality: Speaks only when spoken to or when it vital that she says something. She prefers to be alone. She is often haunted by terrible nightmares of a figure in black. Special talents/abilities: She is skilled with a longbow. She is excels on a horse. She is also very skilled with a sword but she prefers not to use that skill. History: Niamh was found in the dead of night, in Pennywick, at the age of three years old. The woman, Lida, that found Niamh took her in as her own and Niamh has forever known her as 'mother'. She grew up, very sheltered and shunned even amoung other half-breeds. Some suspect she is half Dragonian and half Eloin, though how she became to be so often escapes them. ---------------------------------- Niamh kept her eyes low on the ground as she tagged along behind her mother. She loathed to leave the house, she hated the curious stares and whisperings. She even hated the people who pretended not to notice her difference. She knew to stay away from the men, they were the worst of all. All through her life she had been beaten in the field on the outskirts of Pennywick. The people who beat her were always three men, and each time they had left her to die. One of her first memories was of a beating. She remembered being taken to a field , something that her mother would never know about, when she was three and beaten by three figures in black. They retreated out of the field, leaving the small bleeding child to die. She remembered laying bloody and broken. It was then that Lida found her. She felt eyes on her. She snapped out of memory and a man was staring at her. She shuddered. Rookssolace Name: RothAge: 25 Class: Eloin Appearance: 6' 2”, muscular and broad shouldered. Has shaved head w/ blonde stubble and large intelligent blue eyes. Permanent five o’clock shadow on his square jaw, and a cleft chin. Dresses in dark reds and grays in an almost flamboyant fashion. Personality: Very arrogant. Intelligent and tactically-minded, has a way of reading people and if oftentimes prejudicial. Very suave however but finds himself questioning his life and the path he’s chosen. Looking for someone he can really trust. Special Talents/Abilities: His stocky muscular build makes him an adept swordsman, unhindered by armor weight. Also has a love for using his spiked short-mace. Found that when he was young he could read the subtle changes in the environment that foreshadowed future events, making him an adept tracker/strategist. Past: Roth is the son of a lesser lord in the court of King Aretas. His father was a washed-up alcoholic and lived off of the fortune of his mother’s family teaching Roth to be bitter and untrusting. His mother is a kind and cultured woman whom tried to raise Roth to be a gentleman. They each succeeded in their own way. After his fathers death he went into service under one of the Kings great Captains charged with banishing the Dragonians beyond the Rim. *********************************************************************************************** They reached the hills just two miles outside Pennywick in the early evening. Home of the Halfbreeds Roth thought to himself. It would be the best place to get information, theses people were born afraid. If there was anyone who knew of the Dragonian rebels hiding places, any plans or uprisings, they would be here. For the occasion, Roth donned a hooded gray cloak and soft traveler’s clothes, as well as only a curved dagger in the scabbard on his belt. He and two other men were ordered into the village to extract information that evening. Two men he didn’t particularly like. They were massive, bulky, and limited in their ingenuity – or brain-function as a matter of fact. He’d rather have take two stable hands with an idea between them than muscle with two eyes and two fists. Sighing, he led them through the wood line towards the road leading to the village. Behind him he heard the crunch of leaves and branches. Their stealth is unmatchable! Roth laughed to himself. Picking up the pace he got onto the road and dropped his hood over his eyes. Ahead he saw two figures, their silhouettes outlined by the orange of approaching dusk. A mother and child maybe? They had just walked undoubtedly from Pennywicks main gate, perhaps heading with wash down to the river. He waved in a friendly way and inclined his head so that the two oafs would too. The pair had stopped in the middle of the road unmoving, but considered them momentarily. Well that wasn’t going to work, Half Breeds weren’t stupid…but they still hadn’t made a run for it, and that was a plus. The closer they got though, the more the dusk seemed to settle on the two and blend into them into shadows. Dumb and dumber cracked their knuckles and smiled fiendishly behind him. What a sorry couple of … Roth hadn’t even had time to finish his own thought, the two slender figures had been startled and were now walking backwards, waiting for an opportunity to dash away. ahh, well why not…. His feet barely hit the ground as he sprinted along the trail, his eyes never wavering from the figures now sprung to full motion, their possessions cast to the ground. The last thing he needed was them to reach the village. One of them was old, a woman nearly as old as his own mother. Her feet stumbled on the pebbled roadway as she fell face-first into a cloud of dust. They passed her as she lay there yelling. “Run Niamh! Run!” The old woman cried. The woman turned and hesitated, her windblown dark brown hair sweeping all around her face. Roth had not a reluctance in his body as pumped his arms harder to overtake the woman called Niamh who was again running full-speed towards the village. The gate was a still a ways from her but each of her strides was with determination. Behind him he heard his two annoying companions detaining the old woman and laughing like children at the amusement. Roth was on the girls’ heels now, and planned as he ran. Unsheathing the knife at his belt, he clutched it ready to throw and as they began to round the final bend he let it fly. The blade whizzed through the air right by the girls head and stuck into a tree. He’d missed intentionally of course and her reaction was all the faltering he needed. In one leap, he overtook her. Throwing his arm around her shoulder he used her momentum to swing her into the wood line. Two seconds later lay motionless on the ground. The air knocked clean out of her. He smiled with victory, and in slight hilarity. Roth couldn’t believe he’d managed to find anyone to interview at all considering those two bumbling idiots he’d been sent with. Her light blue eyes looked around desperately as she struggled to catch her breath. Flipping back his hood, he tilted his head and extended his arm to help her up. “Do keep quiet. I’d hate to make this difficult.” He asked with a devilish smirk. Twisting on the ground she tried to get to her feet. Roth kicked her foot out from under her as she tried to rise and sighed. “Come now. Don’t make me hurt you.” A small trickle of blood ran down her temple as turned her frantic eyes on him, mixed blood. Before he could try to get her up again himself, one of the oxen-brains had arrived and without warning threw a sack over her head and slung her over his shoulder. That works too… Roth shook his head and threw up his hood. It was finally night. The moon wrapped the world in its silver beams and made the woods glow like beautiful crystals as they headed back to camp. Arwen9 Jin inched closer. It was now or never. He could see the flickering torches that encircled the Other camp through the trees. If the spy returned there...but he wouldn't.Moving quickly, he yanked the figure around, his dagger's glint unmistakable. "Cry out and it will be your last," he hissed. It was too dark here to make out a face, but he could see the spy nod his head in understanding. "Good." Jin turned the spy around and pressed the point lightly against his back. "Don't try anything." They walked silently for a little while. As they entered a small clearing, the spy stumbled. Before Jin could react, the stumble turned into a quick spin, knocking his dagger out of his hand. The sight of a sword glinting in the moonlight backed him up a step. Jin scrambled for a plan, "My warriors are nearby. One call and you won't see the sun dawn." The spy didn't answer. They circled each other warily. Jin flicked his gaze around, searching for his dagger. Great. I knew I should have called Sheno. As they eyed each other, a beam of moonlight shimmered on the spy's face, but only for a moment. A woman? That can't be. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah ducked out of the way as her attacker lunged at her. She quickly drew her sword and placed the tip on his neck once he had rolled over onto his back. They both froze for a moment, trying to recover their breath."Why did you attack me?" she panted, pressing the blade deeeper against his throat. "I- I thought you were a spy." he choked out nervously, but somehow not afraid. "A spy?" she laughed bitterly. "I travel alone." The statement rang horribly in her head. She knew it was unwise to travel alone, but she could not risk losing anyone else dear to her. "I believe you, though we just met. There is something honest about your face." She slid her sword back into its sheath and held out her hand. "I am Daliah." "Jin." He took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, something caught her attention. She spun around and fitted and arrow into her bow, but she was too late. The arrow missed its mark as a poison dart struck her arm, instantly taking effect. She fought the oncoming darkness, fought the weakness that flowed through her body. All was in vain. She stumbled back into the arms of Jin, her last concious thought that she wished this would kill her. K-George Eppie blinked hard once, and then again. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to peer into the inky blackness that was the night, but had little success. All that she could really make out were the dying embers of the refugee’s camp, and their little sleeping figures. A yawn escaped her lips and her eyes began to droop, her head falling so that her chin rested on her chest. It was there that she found comfort, and drifted into a warm, long sleep.Or at least, that is what she had hoped for, but it was not reality. The truth of the matter was that Eppie had not found herself asleep for more than ten minutes, when she was aroused from her dreams by voices. Groggily she blinked and glanced down, green eyes landing on a man and a woman. The woman stood, sword posed at the man’s neck and conversing in hushed tones. ‘A lover’s quarrel?’ Eppie thought to herself, cocking an eyebrow and leaning forward curiously to get a better look. The brunette woman sheathed her sword, holding her hand out to the man. A few more words were spoken when suddenly the woman spun around, staring straight at where the blonde hybrid hid and drawing back an arrow back. The breath caught in Eppie’s throat and her green eyes went wide in surprise, sure that the arrow would hit her at any moment. However, a something went buzzing past her ear and struck the stranger in her arm, sending her reeling back into the dragonian man’s arms. Eppie let out an uncharacteristic squeak, loosing her balance and falling from the tree in an uncomfortable heap on the ground. She glanced up to meet the confused eyes of the man, and gave a nervous little titter, before turning and scooping up her rapier, looking for whatever it was that was shooting darts at people. Savannah is Confuzzled Niamh didn't like the way the man was chasing her, she pushed herself to run faster. He was chasing with a purpose. She wanted to make it back to the main gate. With determination she dashed, the gate was so close, she could almost taste it. Then there was swooshing sound, and she saw a dagger sticking out of the tree. Stupidly she stopped to stare at it knowing that the man would pounce then. As she hit the ground the memory of the last beating flashed through her mind. And once again she was helpless trying to breathe with futile gasps. She thought of how sad Lida would be if she was killed by this man. Niamh didn't think he wanted to kill her.... yet. He held out his hand to her, she wanted to rip the skin off the bone. She didn't want his help. She tried to get up herself, but cruelly he knocked her down, sending her back on her stomach. He said something but all she could hear was a faint garbled murmur. Then she felt the blood trickle down her face, she knew what he was thinking; 'mixed blood'. Then, there was darkness. Niamh hated the darkness and now to her it seemed that nightmares really could come true. The man that sent her into violent screams was real. Silently she cried as he carried her, salty tears mixing with inferior blood. She wished that Lida wasn't murdered. She would never be able to bear it. She cried, not making a sound, like she had so many times in the field. Rookssolace “Ha.” The larger of the two oafs grunted. Roth casually glanced at him. The soldier’s mandible was almost too big for his face, and he had two dull-witted bulging eyes. To call him a man seemed a foreign idea, but what else but a scary-looking man could he be. With almost no effort he carried the girl in one arm while tearing at branches along the way with the other. “Widmar.” Roth snapped. (He honestly wasn’t sure if that was the right name at all) The soldiers eyes were on him instantly. “Don’t do that, you’re making us easier to follow…and take better care with that prisoner, will you!” A slow nod answered him. Roth screamed on the inside. What idiots! Am I cursed? Shaking his head he looked at the other prisoner, a bandana wrapped ‘round her face and through her teeth. The old woman’s pace was the speed of tar, but he couldn’t fathom something as fragile as a grandmother slung over the back of something so bear-like and careless. Of course, the girl called Niamh was another story, she hadn’t moved since being picked up. “Boss.” Slurred Not-Widmar. Against his better judgment Roth asked what. “I thought that it would be ok if… we just sat down a little and let the Gramma rest.” The rope in his hand was taut, the old woman laboring to keep up. Not answering, he halted and perched on a boulder amidst the towering silhouettes of the trees. “That means we can stop.” A wide toothless grin spread across Not-Widmar’s enormous lips, as he took the old womans shoulders between his gargantuan hands and placed her in front of a log. Lowering herself on the tree-trunk she kept her eyes on the ground. “Now… we can’t stop here long. If we make it back to where the Captain has arranged the rendezvous by morning we’ll be lucky. Remember what happens if we’re late?” He could see the two of them working through their memories, almost as if it was hurting them to do so. “This lady’s awake.” Widmar said and tossed the dark-haired girl like a sack of apples to the forest floor. Standing, Roth lashed the man with the back of his back hand. OWWWWWWWW! His face is made of metal! He made a mental note not to slap the giant again. “Watch what you’re doing Widmar.” He commanded. “Now SIT DOWN!” Calming himself he went to the rag-doll figure lying sprawled out on the ground. Rope in his hand he crouched next to her and began to tie her hands. The hood over her face had fallen off miles ago probably, and he regretted how her beauty was now marred by the blood covering half of her face. Reaching out he touched Niamh’s cheek and felt for any sign of what Widmar had called “awake”. Andante Name: KorAge: 22 Race: Hybrid (Dragonian/Aquila) Appearance: Tall and lanky, with flame-red hair, pale, freckle-less skin, iceburg blue eyes, and a perpetually amused, intelligent expression. Personality: Kor possesses a carefree demeanor and seems to find amusement in everything. His is a sarcastic, occasionally crude sense of humor, yet with an odd touch of refinement. He is an intellectual who appreciates intelligence and scholarship in others. He tends to act on whims which, for reasons undiscovered, rarely seem to get him in trouble; it is as if he is directed by an inner wisdom which exhibits itself in the unpredictable, carefree purpose of a trickster. At the same time, there is an edge to him when he is passionate about something; he becomes serious and extremely driven, almost to the point of obsession. Special Talents/Abilities: Kor is extremely intelligent, with an ability to memorize practically anything, a strong singing voice, and a natural way with people. He directs these talents toward communicating with other people and, when time permits, singing and storytelling. As for martial talents, he can handle a sword, but prefers to carry a dagger, as this is less likely to impel combative sorts to test him. Past: Kor’s father was a Dragonian warrior who fell during a skirmish and was cared for by Kor’s Aquilian mother, a healer, by the seaside settlement, Wardov. Kor resulted from the ensuing union a few weeks later on the eve before the warrior returned to his people. Kor grew up among his mother’s people, the Quatian tribe, as if he were himself a fullbreed Aquilian child rather than a Hybrid. When he was nearly 20, his settlement made the mistake of sheltering twenty Dragonian warriors, and when the Eloin came and demanded that the village give the refugee men and women up, the village elders refused. The Eloin razed the village, killed most of its inhabitants, executed the Dragonians, and left. Kor survived with only minor wounds, but his mother and many of his friends died. He left, choosing to travel from one Aquila tribe to another trying to convince them to ally with the Dragonians in the war against the Eloin rather than maintain what Kor regarded as abhorrent, self-destructive neutrality. He has been largely unsuccessful during the 2 years he has travelled amongst the Aquila, and has taken more and more often to relating to the Dragonians he occassionally encounters. Arwen9 The next instant, a second dart whipped through the trees and Eppie collapsed. *-* Jin looked up from his 'chicken scratches', as Sheno called it, when Daliah moaned. The dart must be wearing off. He recapped the tiny bottle of hoarded ink and waited patiently for her to wake up. Deep blue eyes fluttered open, darted around her surroundings, and then focused on him. Her hands flew to where her sword had been. "Where is it?" He cocked his head. A Dragonian lilt? Interesting. "It will be returned to you, eventually." She frowned at his answer. "When will that be?" "When I am sure you won't attack us in our sleep." Daliah shook her head, and then winced, rubbing her temple. "What did you do to me?" Jin shrugged, "Elam, well, he tends to shoot first and ask questions later, especially where I am concerned." She only nodded. Jin's curiosity was piqued.Is she a Dragonian? The gentle accent in her speech was unmistkable, but, a good spy would probably have that as well. "This might help." He offered her some kolinar. The bitter, green-colored tea, a Dragonian staple, was a drink you learned to like. Her reaction would answer a few questions for him. *-* Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah downed the tea gratefully. It eased the the throbbing in her head and the burning in her throat. Her eyes began to clear, allowing her to study her surroundings. The camp definetely belonged to a traveler. There was no permanent shelter, nor was there room nearby for the horses to graze. She wondered where Suni had gotten to by now. He usually returned to her by the end of the day.Why was Jin staring at her so? She lowered her head and returned the flask to him. He did not take it. She dared to meet his gaze. "Yes?" she ventured, her voice wavering. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Daliah." "No, not your name. I want to know who you are. Obviously you are Dragonian, but why are you here?" "I could ask you the same." "I am the one asking the questions now." She sighed in defeat. "What do you want to know?" "Where did you learn to fight?" was the first question. She answered it as best she could, omitting the dark dreams that the death of her companion had left her with. He also asked of her parents, which she could not answer, so she told him of the man who raised her. She told him of his kindness, his skill, and his love for her and her family, though he told her little of them. All she knew was her mother's beauty (which she was told she possessed) and her father's honor. As she continued to indulge his prodding, she was interrupted by a moan. "Ah." Jin rose to his feet. "The second awakes." K-George Eppie groaned, pulling herself up into a sitting position and rubbing at the back of her neck. 'What hit me?' she thought to herself, opening her eyes and blinking violently in hopes of battling her blurred vision. Once her vision was mostly back to normal, she regretted to report that she did not like what she saw. The woman from earlier sat beside her, a flask filled with something that smelled absolutely hideous in her hands and a curious express on her face. Eppie wrinkled her nose and turned her head away from the foul smelling concoction, meeting the eyes of the man that occupied the room. "Who are you people?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. She had been in a few uncomfortable situations in her life, but this was among the top on her 'most bizarre' list. Really, how many times does one find themselves falling out of a tree and getting hit in the neck with a dart? "I'm Daliah," the woman answered, causing Eppie to cast her green eyed stare back towards her. She did not smile, but her deep blue eyes seemed friendly enough, albiet disgruntled. Eppie nodded her head and grinned back at her, a dimple peeking out as she did so. She turned back to the man, blond eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Well?" she said, with a tone that sounded like it expected an answer. The man matched her quirked brow with one of his own, jade eyes studying her. "I'll be the one to ask the questions," he said after a moment, meeting her eyes with his jaw set firm. "Who are you?" "I'm sorry, but I won't answer to a man whom I don't even the name of," she said flippantly, eyes glowing amusedly in the dim lightly. His eyes narrowed, and she could see that he was growing annoyed with her. This was never her intentions, but she wasn't really all that open to answering the questions of a man that she knew nothing about. He brushed back a stray hair that was hanging in his face, and opened his mouth to speak. Savannah is Confuzzled The last thing Niamh felt was the ground. Then she was tossed like a rag doll. She was almost happy to have her blood spilt a different way and whizzing through the air gave her a light feeling. She then met the ground again. The impact made her go numb. She felt herself fall asleep but not before hearing the man curse the large monster that had carried her. Monster was the only word to describe him. His porpotions seemed off, like a child had molded him. She felt the blood trickle into her mouth, it was a familiar taste. Then her eyes closed. She was happy, not having to pretend to be asleep was the greatest gift anyone could have given her. Now she wouldn't have to think about Lida, she could retreat into her own shell. She could sleep out most of the journey. Her dream wasn't anything, just the large dark expanse that was her mind. She enjoyed that. Suddenly startled about the empty dark place she called out in her sleep, "Lida." Rookssolace “Lida” The one called Niamh muttered as she lay yet again unconscious. All Roth could do was sigh. Running his hand over his head, he felt the soft fuzz-like blonde stubble growing there, and turned in exasperation towards Widmar and Not-Widmar. He opened his mouth several times in frustration, not really knowing what to say. What could possibly prevail upon their simple minds that would really get across his point?“Do that again…” Roth began his voice low and eyes burning. “And I’ll cut off your hands…” His eyes never left the dull expressionless dark crater-like eye-sockets in the soldiers face. “Do you understand me?” Without waiting for an answer, he bent down and scooped up the girl in his arms carefully. Adjusting her limp body, he announced that they had rested long enough. It wasn’t long before they reached the rendezvous point. Roth lowered delicately laid the girl on the grass and pointed to where the old woman was roughly forced to sit. Standing akimbo, Roth breathed heavily, tired from traipsing all over the woods with carrying the girl and constantly reprimanding the two oafs he’d been assigned with. Before him, the trees wavered in an unseen and notably unfelt breeze while their trunks expanded and contracted as if almost breathing. Taking a rock from the forest floor, he threw it hard into the branches of a apple tree just across the small clearing. “Owe!” Some exclaimed. Muttering a few more curses as they descended from among the tangled branches of the old fruitless tree. Hefting his rucksack, he made his way over to their group. “Sergeant I dunno know how you do it! You always know where I’m at…” laughed the man awkwardly, a slow grin on his face. Roth, however was either too tired or annoyed to kid. “Where the blaze are the horses?!” He demanded impatiently. I want to get these two back to the outpost as quickly as possible. The young man before him, looked at the women and opened his mouth, but Roth interrupted. “Not them, the two idiots with the weapons.” “Oh, Horik and Widmar. Yeah, they aren’t the best to work with, no. It’s actually amazing you came back with anyone at all. The Cap’n … well he’ll be pleased to say the least. They always test out the new sergeants by sending them out with them two…” A chuckle escaped the man, his reeking gapped toothed mouth hanging open long enough for Roth to sneer in disgust. “One time, Horik wandered off and nearly got killed by some of our own guys, cause he’s just too simple to know who’s the enemy ‘n all that.” Anger flared in Roth’s eyes, and the little man took a step back. “Horses are this way sergeant. Cap’n is ‘pecting you. Good Luck with them prisoners, maybe he’ll let you keep ‘em if they live through the interrogation ‘n all.” Andante Kor knew better than to travel through these parts. By the five blazing firmaments, he knew it, and yet his impatience, his foolhardy desire to avoid the harsh terrain of the mountains to the north, was going to cost him his life. He just knew it!This area had seen heavy fighting recently. Already Kor had come upon---and carefully crept in a wide berth around---three dried husks of villages. Burned, pillaged, and utterly devoid of living souls, the former settlements bore the clear handiwork of the Eloin. Kor had seen it in other places; he’d seen the charred tents and staked heads in his own home village of Wardov, he’d seen it in a couple of the Aquila villages that had made the mistake of straying too far from their comfortable neutrality without being wise enough to take up arms, and he’d seen it in countless Dragonian villages. The rebels had been hard hit lately, especially in these parts. And Kor had stupidly wandered right into the middle of it. His was a fine dagger. Of Dragonian make, it had been the gift of his father to his then-unborn son. Kor’s mother had saved it to him and given it to him on his fifteenth birthday, when he’d become a man in the ways of the Aquila people. Ivory hilted, with a strong, wickedly curved blade, it was a well crafted weapon. Unfortunately, Kor was largely unfamiliar with the Dragonian style of fighting, and the dagger had been virtually useless in his hands up until a mere year or so ago, when he’d received some basic instruction from a Dragonian warrior in its use. It was best, he had come to learn, to fight with one curved blade in each hand, but he did not have two. He had one. Kor was a musician, not a warrior. What was he doing out in the middle of nowhere, far from Aquila lands? Trying to win my pretty head a nice place atop a Eloin spike, he thought, a tired smile gracing his features. In truth, he was trying to locate a Dragonian tribe---any Dragonian tribe---so he could join their cause. It was a naïve goal, he knew, but not one he easily could give up. The Dragonians would not be overly welcoming of a halfbreed; distrust ran thick through the veins of anyone who crossed paths with the Eloin these days, and it ran thickest through the Dragonians. Son of a Dragonian warrior or not, Kor’s bright red hair and Aquilian accent were not going to win him many friends at first. But if there were one trait the halfbreed minstrel possessed in abundance, it was charisma. He’d gain their trust in time. But first… he had to find them. There were not many Dragonians in these parts. The forests to the south of Pennywick were too close to the Eloin lands, and not even the Aquila were entirely safe there. Kor’s destination was further northwest, past Pennywick, past the hills, and on the other side of the mountains, But it would take at least another two days’ worth of walking to get there; his horse had broken a leg a couple weeks earlier and he’d had to put her down. At first, he thought it was the longing for his mare, Keddina, that made him hear the faint sound of hoofbeats echoing through the trees. A moment later it became overwhelmingly obvious that not only were the hoofbeats real, but they were coming directly toward him. Kneeling swiftly in the darkness behind an oak tree, he watched silently as three horses slowly came into view. It was hard, in the pale moonlight, to see clearly at first. However, as the riders grew closer, Kor’s eyes confirmed what his instincts told him. An Eloin officer with two bound female prisoners was approaching, riding through the trees at the swift, steady pace of someone who intends to reach a destination before sunrise. Kor’s pale blue eyes narrowed in the darkness. The women rode like men, but with their hands tied behind their backs and dirty sacks pulled over their heads. The soldier rode with one hand attending to the reins of his own horse and the other clutching the lead-ropes of the other two beasts. Kor surveyed the warrior’s weapons. A dagger at the waist was all he could see, although for an Eloin that might be enough. Just a brief distraction. That’s all I need. Wait, are there any others coming up behind? A second, longer glance confirmed that there were no other soldiers; the officer was alone, apparently escorting prisoners somewhere. Idiot. Kor was not particularly fast as he sprang out of the trees at the oblivious Eloin, nor particularly strong in his charge toward the distracted warrior’s horse. But the soldier, glancing over his shoulder to check on his prisoners, even hearing the sudden snap and thrashing of brush, did not turn around in time to even see the tall redheaded man who rushed him and tore him, with a curse, from the back of his horse. The Eloin landed with a sharp exhalation of air upon the ground, apparently unhurt but, for the moment at least, breathless and slightly stunned. Kor was not much of a warrior, but he was more than an adept rider. It was better, then, to run than to fight. He vaulted into the suddenly riderless horse’s saddle in one smooth motion and gathered the reins of the other two horses a heartbeat later. Already the Eloin had recovered himself and was rising to his feet with a shout. These Eloin horses were wellbred; the gelding he’d commandeered responded immediately to his gentle tap and with the other two horses sprang into a lope, then a gallup, after them, their riders screaming at the sudden flurry of noise and movement. “Don’t be scared!” Kor shouted. “I’m a friend. Hold on tight!” Rookssolace Roth collided hard with the ground, gasping for a breath. Though he thought it pointless he shouted for Widmar and Not-Widmar."Get him! Kill him! GO GO GO!" The two dull-witted massive soldiers kicked the ribs of their mounts and galloped hard after the fleeing guerilla and prisoners. The simple order seemed to take hold of their brains and they were after the other horses like hungry wolves on sheep. Within moments they passed out of his view. Throwing his dagger into the dirt with frustration he ground his teeth. Then quite unexpectedly he heard a triumph pair of grunts from his wittless companions. "We gots um! We gots um!" Roth rubbed his palms together in victory and broke into a run after their echoeing cries. As he came around the corner, he saw Widmar, or perhaps Not-Widmar literally sitting atop the man who'd quite rudley knocked him from his stead. "I'm squishing him!" Shouted the soldier, his eyes lolling, mouth agape. "Stop squishing...er..Tie him up immediatley!" Roth demanded, and then went to the two women who'd been thrown from the horses in the scuffle and were desperatley trying to flee, hooded and bound. "Ladies...Ladies..." He said with a smile as he took their bound hands in either fist. Now how to deal with THIS... He thought as his men tossed the "extra baggage" onto the back of one of the mounts, squirming and cursing. Arwen9 "I am Jin of Shinar. Who are you?""Eppie," she commented cheerfully. (Women) He sighed. "Are you with her?" He gestured at Daliah. Eppie shook her head. His eyebrows arched, "You were both traveling alone?" (It's a wonder they're both alive) "You may travel with us if you wish." "Jin!" A scout skidded to a stop in front of him. "There's a group of Others traveling nearby. They have prisoners." Jin glanced at the women, and took a step back, before hissing, "I leave no one in Other clutches. Get the warriors together." He turned back to Eppie and Daliah. "Ask for Sheno if you need anything." With that, he whistled for his stallion and cantered into the night. Savannah is Confuzzled Niamh had tasted freedom, had felt bliss for a second. Then she felt herself being pulled away from it. "Ladies… ladies…" She knew whose hands were tugging her and Lida away, she wanted to lash out with everything she had. Which were, at the moment, her bound hands. The ropes were too tight, and her fingers wouldn't move anymore, and every time she tried painful prickling began at her fingertips and moved up to her wrists. At least she could still feel them. "Lida?" She whispered, her voice even lower because of the hood. She could faintly hear Lida grunt in reply. Niamh swiped her at her leg with her foot, she swiped backward three times, "Lida?" Niamh tried to sound terrified, she wanted them to believe her. "Niamh?" Lida's voice shook. 'Good,' Niamh thought, she was going out on a limb, but she didn't care whether she lived or she died. Lida was not going to die, not if she could help it. She was about to try and Lida to run while she, Niamh, distracted the man, when she heard horses. Instead of her heart lifting at the sound it stayed dead and unmoved. 'Lovely,' She thought, 'Just lovely, I already know how this will turn out, might as well sit still.' The horses were getting closer the others seemed to notice them. Andante Well, that hadn't gone as expected in the slightest. Kor was right; he most certainly was going to find himself being beheaded and providing grim decoration atop some Eloin spike, but it was most likely going to be a mite sooner than he'd expected.Edda's balls. Why hadn't he waited a little longer to give himself time to think of a better plan? Because you're an impulsive fool, he snarled at himself, your blasted uncanny luck couldn't last forever. Strangely, he didn't mind the thought of dying so much. Not that he wanted---or intended---to die. No, he'd fight tooth and nail and... and.. dagger for his life. But he did mind the possibility that he might not get to aid the cause of his Father's people, even if only for a day. When he heard the steady sound of rapidly approaching hoofbeats, he grinned wryly. A new element in the game? Perhaps it was a friend; perhaps a foe. Either way, it changed things a bit, gave him a new mix of factors to work with, and he began to move, rocking back and forth in the saddle, feeling the hard leather digging into his gut and sides and bound arms. He rolled over the rear curve of the saddle, over the rump of the horse, and slammed into the ground. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah glared at Jin's retreating figure. No way was she staying there. She wondered if Myna was still carrying her extra weapons. Only one way to find out.She put her fingers to her lips and whistled, pushing away the boy who tried to hold her back. Myna cantered to a stop beside her and she mounted before anyone could stop her. (Sorry it's short, but I have to get off before my mom kills me.) Arwen9 Jin cursed loudly, yanking his stallion around the tumbling prisoner. Fiery red hair was visible even in the dim light of daybreak. That caught his attention, something to deal with later, but not now. Warriors fanned out behind him. The Other sergeant and his two lackey hesitated for a moment, eying their approach. The two lackeys fled first, the sergeant cursing at their retreating backs, before his gaze returned to them. Jin slowed and signaled for his men to wait. Striking blue eyes studied them with a calculating light. He held tightly to the reins of a bay gelding, two prisoners hooded and bound on its back. The red-haired prisoner's voice could be heard arguing with some of Jin's warriors. They would not be exactly "cordial" to a clear Hybrid. The sergeant took a step back, one hand resting on the hilt of a dagger. Jin smiled grimly, even as the soft creak of a bow being drawn echoed to his right. "Well, the Other has courage." he thought. Twenty to one were bad odds, even if only a handful were true warriors. But he would lose men, good men, if the situation were not resolved. Jin drew his janin and urged his stallion forward. The Other tensed. "Leave now, alone, and you will not be harmed." The eyes flicked over him and the warriors. "And if I take these with me?" "You won't." The sergeant scowled, tugging on his cloak, "I won't forget this Jin of Shinar!" Jin's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, the Other threw the reins at him and marched away. Sheno started to move after him, until Jin's glare stopped him. "Leave him be." The Hybrid yelled behind him. "I want to speak to the Fay-el! Let go of me!" The Dragonian word for chieftain. Sheno's eyebrows arched. "More mystery," Jin thought with a frown. Flicking the reins to the right, he headed for the struggling man, calling over his shoulder. "Take care of them, Sheno." Jin dismounted with ease and stood there, waiting. "Well, I am Fay-el. What do you want?" Andante Kor twisted, curling his legs toward his chest and then, by rocking his torso and pushing hard against the ground with his shoulder, managed to lurch to his knees. It wasn't the most dignified way to face the Fay-el, kneeling on the ground with arms bound behind him and the dust of the road pressed into his face where he’d connected none-too-gracefully with the road, but it was afar cry better than laying breathless in the dirt or draped, bottom-up, over the back of a horse.No, this was definitely not the way he’d imagined such a meeting would go, but one must grasp the opportunities Eppa threw one’s way. Spitting dirt, he rose smoothly to his feet, standing with his arms tied behind his back facing the chieftain. He offered a friendly bow, graceful despite his bound state and chuckled. “Well met, Fay-el,” he said in fluent but slightly accented Dragonian, offering an untamed grin despite the tiny pebbles imbedded in his forehead and the shallow scrapes peppering one side of his face. “I am Kor na Quatian, son of Renji na Shinar---a warrior of the Dragonian people---and Evali na Quatian, who was a healer of the Aquilian people before the Eloin killed her.” The Fay-el did not seem overly impressed by Kor’s parentage, but the redhead wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned. He didn’t expect the Dragonians to welcome him with open arms at first; he was not, after all, himself a full-blooded Dragonian, and in these harsh times his father’s kin had little reason to trust outsiders. He was a little surprised, then, when a flicker of recognition alighted in the Fay-el’s eyes, quickly drowned by impassivity and then covered by a new, somewhat amused mask. “And lately a prisoner of an Eloin sergeant as well,” the man said lightly, glancing from Kor to the two women, whose bonds were being cut. “An ill-conceived rescue attempt,” Kor admitted with a self-depreciating chuckle. “I thought the brute was alone, but I was wrong. I must admit, I’m immensely relieved you lot happened to be around.” He frowned darkly and his gaze slid toward the women, who looked exhausted and were rubbing their aching, chaffed wrists. “I’ve seen what those Eloin bastards do to women,” he told the Fay-el in an low voice. “I expect I would have been merely questioned and then killed, but the ladies… well, I’m extremely happy you came along when you did and drove the bastards off.” The chieftain nodded curtly. “Yes. But I’m sure you did not want to speak to me just to recite your lineage and thank me for succeeding where you failed. So I ask you again. What do you want?” Kor glanced over his shoulder wryly at the ropes binding his wrists behind his back. “Well, for starters, could you free me from these damnable things?” Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah dismounted just outside the circle and watched for a moment. Jinn seemed to have things under control, so she entered without her sword drawn. What are you doing here?" Jinn was obviously angry, but he didn't frighten her. She had been on her own long enough to know how to defend herself. "I thought you could use the help." she gestured to the prisoners. "But I must have been wrong." "Yes. Return to the camp." "No." She drew her sword as he cut the Aquillan free. "I sense I am still needed here, whether or not you believe it." Suddenly she was attacked from behind. She threw the offender over her shoulder and fought him off, continuing their conversation between strokes. "Why do you question me? I have had many opportunities to harm you, and I have shown you nothing but mercy. I do not need protection, as you can well see. And I have nothing that you could want." She drove her blade deep into his shoulder to subdue him, and looked back at Jinn, her sweat clumped hair hanging in her face. "Do not lie, for once again I can easily kill you." Arwen9 The pain was a nuisance, but he could deal with it. He had been in too many battles, had broken too many bones, for it to be more than an irritation. Why Daliah was so aggressive was beyond him. He took a step back and cocked his head at her, unable to prevent a grin. “You think you can kill me?” His smile infuriated her. He saw the anger flash in her eyes. “Yes, and you can’t stop me.” “Oh?” The creak of drawn bows snapped her head around. Three of his men held their bows trained at her. Even she had to know of the fame of Dragonian bowmen. “I think not.” She turned her gaze back on him. “Your men would fire on a woman?” His eyes narrowed. “If she attacked their chieftain. I would sheath that sword.” She hesitated for a second more, and then sheathed it with an angry clatter. He picked his janin up from the ground and sheathed it as well, before turning away as if she were no concern. If she didn’t want to be pampered, fine, but then he would treat her no different than one of his warriors. Jin glanced at the Hybrid, Korr wasn’t it?, who was still rubbing his wrists. “Would you like a Healer?” “No-no. I’m fine. No worse for wear.” How could that man be cheerful? Jin wanted to drag the Hybrid into the moonlight and study his face. He could have sworn he recognized him. The ancestry he had given was familiar too. Jin shoved the thought aside. He would ask the Keeper to find the Birth Roll and satisfy his curiosity then. Right now, it was more important to deal with the tribe. That Other knew his name, that worried him. It was very rare for an Other to travel with that small of a guard. If there was another, much larger group of Others nearby, his tribe would never survive. Jin motioned at the Hybrid. “Give him and the prisoners a horse. If he tries to ride away, shoot him.” Jin turned away. Now that that was taken care of…He mounted his own horse, wincing as he moved that shoulder. The Keeper and the Healer, tonight, right after the tribe got moving again. Andante Sitting upright atop his borrowed grey gelding fifteen minutes later, Kor watched the back of the Dragonian chieftan with a mixture of amazement, concern and---yes---anger as the tribe rode with startling silence through he woods.The redhead's amazement came not so much from the fact that the chieftan had taken a blade to the shoulder without a cry of pain or even so much as a wince, but rather from the fact that he'd let the woman who'd wielded the blade live. She'd attacked him, bested him in battle---in front of his own men, no less!---and yet he let her not only continue with her life intact, but continue, unbound and virtually unguarded, to remain in the company of the tribe. Absolutely amazing. The concern, on the other hand, was for the bloody wound in the Fay-el's shoulder. The halfbreed had seen it's like before; deep and ragged, fever could settle into such a wound easily, causing painful swelling and stiffness at the very least and delirium, wound-rot and possibly even death at the very worst. The Fay-el might be a strong man, accustomed to bearing pain and the surviver of many injuries, but even strong men could be felled by filthy wounds. It was with this concern that his anger warred. Kor was a proud man. He did not mind being treated like an outsider because, after all, he was one. But he did not appreciate being treated like a prisoner-of-war when he had come of his own free will to these people, offered them no threat whatsoever, and even recovered two helpless women from the clutches of what appeared to be Jin's enemy. He deserved at least a modicum of respect! Eppa's Balls, the arrogant Dragonian and his woman-wound wasn't Kor's problem! Yet Kor was also a practical man, and his reason told him that even though such treatment by the Fay'el was not honorable, it did make sense; Kor was a stranger, a foreigner who had stumbled upon a Dragonian tribe in a time of war. It was wise for Jin to be cautious, for Kor could be a spy or, at least, a fool who could unwittedly put the tribe in danger. Still though... the Fay'el had a lot of nerve! He practically deserved the prick from that woman's sword! Practically... Maybe not... Eventually concern won out. Leg-reining his horse slowly toward the man, he glanced at the archers who were diligently guarding the the Fay'el. They watched him warily, bows strung but not drawn, as he approached. Kor held up his hands nonthreateningly, looking to the warriors, and pulled up alongside Jin. "Sir," he said softly, nodding at the wound when the man turned to look at him with a slight glance of impatience. "My mother, as I told you, was a healer of the Aquila people. I do not claim her trade as my own, but she taught me somewhat of her skills before she died. Although it would be best to have someone better-trained than I re-treat the wound when we eventually come to wherever it is we're going, I think a practical man such as yourself will acknowledge the wisdom of having that injury cleansed and bound now, before bloodloss weakens you or illness is able to settle in. If you permit, I will provide what assistance I am able. It should take no more than ten minutes' time. I have rudimentary supplies in my bag..." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah rode away from the group, angry. She had hoped that Jin would have attacked her, banished her, or at the very least yelled. It was easier not to get close to someone that way. At the moment, all her concentration was bent on not befriending him, because she was afraid of losing him the way she lost Bard.If she spoke that way to Bard, she knew he would have slapped her. But Jin's behavior confused her. Why was he so soft? Perhaps it was an act. She would have left immediately, if not for Eppie. She could not leave the poor woman alone with so many men. Compassion may get you killed, but it keeps you human. That was one of Bard's favorite sayings. She said it to herself every time she wanted to abandon her cause. She broke into the camp, stirring the people that were there. "Eppie!" she shouted. "Come, we have to leave!" The girl spun around to meet her gaze, dropping the knife she was holding. "What?" she asked. Daliah dismounted and grabbed the girl's hand. "We must go. Now!" Savannah is Confuzzled *Sorry that this took so long and that its so short*Niamh couldn't understand what was going on now but she didn't want to speak because she was afraid. At least she was out of the wretched bonds, but all the excitement had taken its toll on Lida. Niamh and Lida sat quietly and waited for someone do something with them, because that was the only way they knew to do things. Arwen9 (mine's short too. it's ok.  Jin studied Kor for a moment, hesitating. He wouldn’t admit it, of course, but he was struggling to ignore the wound. Teeth clenched against the pain, he could feel his shoulder beginning to lock up. He had already shifted the reins to his other hand. It would take a hard day’s ride to get home, longer with the two rescued women. He couldn’t afford to be disabled, not with Others close by. “You’re mother was a Healer?” “Do you have trouble hearing?” Jin resisted the urge to backhand him. “Tell me then, what does Kenbane do?” “Mends bone.” “And valla?” “For pain and rest. Handy on an arrow too.” Quite right, Elam often used arrows dipped in valla, as Daliah and Eppie well knew. (Obviously, he has some Healer training.) Jin flicked a glance at Layole, to his right. Twin to Sheno, he could tell if a man were lying with an almost unnerving ease. Layole dipped his head slightly. The unspoken message was clear; he’s telling the truth. Jin yanked his horse to the side, “Come then.” Kor’s eyes widened. “What about them?” He gestured at their group. Layole had already moved to the head of the line, leading them on. “We’ll catch up. They need the safety of the tribe.” He gave Kor a stern stare. “Ten minutes, no more.” Kor shrugged, but didn’t argue. Jin loosened his hold, giving his horse, Doblo, its head. Desert-born, the stallion could find water better than a shaman with his divining. Andante "Here," Kor said, nodding curtly toward a dark wall of trees. Jin's eyes were narrowed in the dark toward him, and he grinned broadly, trying to ignore his own irritation at the other man's distrust. "Water, Fay-el. I can smell it. Aquila-born, remember? The saltwater at home's no good for drinking and one must learn to scout out fresh water. See? Your horse senses it, even if my own is a little oblivious."Jin's stallion's nostrils flared and he huffed softly, his ears flicking to the side now and then toward some yet-unheard movement; a stream, perhaps, or even a creek. Jin didn't trust Kor, but he did trust his mount, and after a moment he leg-reined his stallion in the direction Kor indicated. Kor's mouth lifted in a wry half smile and he followed. It was darker here where the trees thickened, the moon barely bright enough to penetrate the thick foliage, but the horses seemed to know better than the men where they were going. Behind him he heard the sharp snap of a twig and the tumble of a rock through dry leaves. The entire group had not gone on alone, then, but had left perhaps one or two men behind to guard their wounded chieftain from the unruly foreigner. Kor shrugged in the dark; he wasn't going to hurt the man and wondered if he could, even with Jin injured as he was. Kor considered calling out to the trailing warriors but chose to keep his silence and let them keep theirs. If there were other threats nearby---that Eloin officer and his men, perhaps---it couldn't hurt to have the two warriors remain hidden for the time being. "Here," Kor said again, as the dark flow of water finally became visible where the trees cleared to either side of the narrow creek. He dismounted before the stream and led his horse to the water, knowing the beast would likely remain nearby with such a providence of liquid and grass available. Jin watched him for a moment, his eyes narrow in the moonlight, clearly reluctant to leave the back of his horse, but as Kor reached up to the saddle to drag down his pack, the Fay-el grunted and, careful not to put any weight on his injured arm, swung lithely from the saddle and dropped quietly to the ground. Kor's medicine pack was not too extensive; it contained the most basic of herbal remedies for fever, pain, and swelling, plus a sack of lichen for the staunching of bleeding and a shallow jar of unguent to numb and prevent infection. Anything else he needed, he'd have to find, although his mother had taught him well about what plants were good for the easing of a cough or the calming of a foul stomach. "Shirt off," he murmured to Jin, wandering down to the water with a small stone bowl and a chunk of hard soap without bothering to see if the Fay-el obeyed. He washed his hands the cool water, scrubbing them with the harsh soap he was rapidly running out of; Kor was a man who liked to keep clean, and thus far he'd been able to, but supplies such as soap were hard to come by this far from any towns or villages. He'd have to restock soon, somewhere. He filled the bowl a quarter-way with water then returned to his pack, adding one part lichen to stem the blood-flow and two parts valla leaf for the easing of pain and the relaxation of the traumatized muscles. He would have preferred to boil the water first, but at least the creek was moving freely; the algae and movement would keep the water mostly clean and his salve would do the rest. "We'll let that set for a moment," he said, as much to himself as Jin as he lay the bowl down. "Here." He pulled a sliver of silver-white bark out of its pouch and held it out to the chieftain. "Kapa. Just chew on it a bit; don't swallow. It should keep swelling and pain down and guard against fever. It'll make you feel a little numb too. Let me know when that happens." Jin was looking at the piece of kapa like he thought it was poison. Kor ignored him, reaching for his stone bowl and, pulling a pestle from his kit, beginning to gently crush the herbs in the water with the stone pestle. Grind them too much and they'd be too strong for use on an open wound; fail to at least bruise them, and the herbal properties would not be released. "I feel this numbness you speak of," Jin finally said. Kor glanced sideways at him, noticing the other man held the sliver of bark between his teeth. "Good. Now, sit here, next to me." "I'd rather stand," Jin said, crossing his arms slowly, favoring the injured shoulder. "You'd rather sit, trust me" Kor assured him firmly, indicating the ground before him. When Jin made no move to comply he sighed. "If for no other reason than my own sake, I need you to sit. It will be much faster and surer this way." Jin nodded curtly. "Very well." He crouched rather than sat on the ground before Kor, who sighed. That was probably the best he was going to get. Setting the crushed herbs aside once again, he reached into his pack and pulled out the jar of salve. Scooping a generous amount onto his finger, he applied it gently but deftly around the ragged edges of the wound, ignoring Jin's hissing and squirming and making sure it thoroughly coated the injury despite the Dragonian's fluid curses when he spread the salve deep into the wound. "The blade went in about two and a half inches," he told Jin calmly. "You're lucky; if it'd been on the other side, it could have pierced your heart. That was a salve made of kapa root---kind of like the bark you just chewed---and anderberries. It should numb the wound even more here in a moment, and the anderberries will prevent infection. I'll pack the wound with this," he nodded toward the stone bowl of herbs, "in a moment when you can't feel anything. We don't have time to stitch the wound---your healer can do that tonight if necessary---but this'll stop the bleeding, prevent swelling and pain, and keep the injured muscles relaxed and supple, at least for the next six to eight hours." Jin nodded sharply. "We're running out of time," he told Kor cooly. "We're almost done," Kor shot back. Jin frowned and rotated his shoulder slowly. "I'm numb," he said. Kor could tell by the slight glaze of pain in Jin's eyes that the Fay-el was lying through his teeth, but he shrugged. Suit yourself, he thought. Jin didn't say anything as Kor packed the wound with the damp herbs, but held himself rigid and silent. Kor couldn't tell if it was harsh control or if the numbing effect of the salve had taken effect, but it was short work to fill the wound with the mixture and bind it tightly with clean bandages. It was strangely quiet as the two men returned from the creek, and Kor wondered where their shadows had gone. Arwen9 Jin hated being wounded, but he hated being tended even more. Kor wasn’t so bad though. He was a vast improvement over the Healer of the tribe now. That man had been the Healer for Jin’s grandfather and, though he had an extensive knowledge of herbs, he had all the gentle grace of a blacksmith. What irked Jin the most was how easily he could have defeated that starry woman, if not for her unfair advantage. If she had Dragonian training, surely she would have been schooled in the Seven Tenets. Jin had broken Tenet 1 several times. Keep your temper at all times and at all costs, but she had to be aware of Tenet 2. Neither woman, nor woman soon to bear, nor child of up to 11 winters may be harmed. A twig snapped. It was not the first time. Jin swiveled in the saddle, ignoring Kor’s curious look. He whistled a trilling call softly and waited. The twins or Elam would have responded immediately with a robin’s call, but the thick forest around them remained silent. Jin’s mind dashed through possibilities. That Eloin captain could have returned, with reinforcements. On the other hand, it could be Dameon finally catching up to them again. The Hybrid had been orphaned by a rogue Dragonian tribe many years ago, and now retained a maniacal hatred of all Dragonians. That Jin had escaped out of the clutches of his bandits twice already did not foster friendly relations. It had been Dameon who forced Elam’s mother, and now tried to claim his “son”. That ragtag band of thieves and murderers had tracked the tribe for several moons now. His mind wandered to Kor. The Hybrid could have more friends waiting to ambush them, but if that were so, why wait until now? They had been alone for several minutes, and with him wounded, they would have had better success attacking earlier. Doblo snorted, ears flat against his skull. He pranced beneath Jin’s tight hold, yanking on the bit. Jin patted the proud neck soothingly and pulled him short. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his surroundings. Insects chirped among the foliage, and creatures of the night rustled through the bushes, but to his right, and some behind him, the animals were silent. The night almost too still, as if waiting for the right moment. This wasn’t right at all. He drew his janin. Even with the numbness of the kapa bark, he felt a faint twinge of pain from the janin’s weight. If they were forced to defend themselves, he suspected Kor would have to do more tending. The thought didn’t make his mood any better. Jin heard the Hybrid stop beside him, followed by the soft hiss of a dagger freed from its sheath, and then Kor muttering, “I take it our shadows are not one of yours?” Jin flicked a glance at the Hybrid and then his eyes widened. He knew a shitan when he saw it. “Where did you get that?” he whispered. Andante Kor's clear blue eyes slid to the ivory-handled, curved blade and a small, almost privately-proud smile ghosted over his lips for an instant before being replaced by a strangely-intense seriousness. "A gift," he explained. "From my father." Then a hint of his more usual, impish grin returned. "As for the more immediate where... from my boot. Your men did not disarm me.""They had no need," the Fay-el said with a lightness that could have been either whatever passed as a jest with this man or a flippant sort of confidence. He was not smiling, but then, Kor wasn't sure he ever smiled. "Do you know how to use it?" Kor sucked a breath through his teeth. "My father left far before I was old enough to learn from him, but a Dragonian comrade I once had the honor of traveling with taught me the Fundamentals and the Tenets." Jin cursed under his breath and the redhead knew it was not due to the impressiveness of his training. "Your tribe?" he asked. Jin waved his good hand dismissively, his eyes scanning the woods. "Can fend for themselves well enough." He pointed through a couple trees into the darkness beyond and at the same time his janin arm swung up to the ready with surprising fluidity of motion for one with a two and a half inch wound piercing his shoulder. Then again, Kor thought, crossing his own knife over his chest to the ready position, the wound had not yet had time to stiffen. "There!" The horses snorted as three lightly armored men thrust out of the trees, and Kor's smile at he and Jin's mounted advantage faded almost as quickly as it graced his features as the mud-painted warriors converged on them. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah froze and pricked her ears. Eppie complained of pain, so she released her grip on the girl's arm, raising her hand for silence. There was something moving near them, clearly coming closer. She drew her sword and looked around, trying to focus in on the sound. It seemed to be coming from the right, then the left. But it wasn't until she heard leaves rustle behind her that she realized what was going on. She bent down and whispered. "We're surrounded. Get up behind me and we'll make a run for it." Eppie nodded and swung into the saddle. Daliah grabbed the reins tightly, tense from all the excitement. Then, without warning, she dug her heels into his flanks and they shot forward. Faces blurred past them as they rode on. She felt a note of pain as on of their blades sliced her thigh, but she forced herself not to think about it. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to find Jin. Even if not for herself, Eppie needed the protection he could offer. Arwen9 Stars and Crescents! Stars and bloody Cresents! Jin cursed silently. Of all the times to be seperated from his tribe, and without a bow. And with another Hybrid no less. Jin dropped the reins, using his knees to guide the battle-trained stallion. If he had to, he could use both hands to swing the janin. Doblo’s lashing hooves and vicious bites might keep the Hybrids at bay as well. It was quite clear what race and clan these men belonged to. Blonde hair marred an otherwise Dragonian face, or blue eyes peered out from between strands of dirty, raven hair. The small circle tattooed on the right side of their faces marked them as Dameon’s. It was the closest thing to the crazed Hybrid’s sigil. Jin had seen his banner of two winged serpents, devouring each other, several times. The filthy trio paused at the sight of the bared janin, but only for a second. They moved with deadly purpose. Spreading out into a wedge, they slunk closer, various weapons appearing seemingly out of the air. A wickedly curved dagger, a short pike, a set of thin, throwing blades but no crossbow.Kyda be praised. It was the crossbow that he dreaded the most in battle. The bow had to be used by strong, well-trained archers, but a crossbow…it could be used by a woman. An army of bowmen would be difficult to raise, but an army of crossbowmen--they already guarded Blackmoor Castle. They split, dividing their attention between him and Kor. Two converged on the redhead, while the last, and obvious leader, remained facing him. Eyes narrowed, Jin snapped, “Are you ready, half-breed?” The Hybrid’s thin lips cracked into a smile. “I’ll feed your entrails to a Derk-ra when I’m finished, bloody Wanderer.” Clenching his teeth at the racial insult, he charged at the jeering Hybrid. They moved back and forth in a deadly game, a tenuous balance between death and survival. Jin could not wield his full strength with the janin, but the Hybrid could not use his pike well without the risk of Doblo’s pounding hooves. Out of the corner of his eye, Jin could see Kor almost dancing through the Fundamentals. He was holding his own well. In fact, he moved with a natural grace. For all you know, he could be a skilled assassin. He snorted at the thought. Not likely that, but he definitely showed some potential. Jin would have to spar with him once, if they survived. The Hybrid caught his shift in attention and leaped for him. Jin dodged, the steel scraping against his side, but only a flesh wound. In the quick move however, the Hybrid had overextended himself. Jin slashed out, a jagged arc tearing across the man’s sword arm, and then another ripping over ribs and chest. Eyes wide from his mistake, the Hybrid gasped, pulling away, but Jin pressed his advantage. Jin urged Doblo closer and released a flurry of quick, short attacks. The Hybrid tried to defend himself, but his wounds slowed him down. With a final, flowing stance, Jin drove the janin deep and then yanked it free as the Hybrid slumped, lifeless to the ground. Hoofbeats thudded in the distance. Great. Reinforcements. He nudged Doblo in Kor’s direction. If the redhead needed help, Jin would step in. But, judging from what he saw, Kor didn’t need any. Andante Other than two years ago in his village, when he had done no more than clumsily fire a shortbow at the invading Eloin before being knocked unconscious from behind, Kor had never had to actually fight a battle. Yes, he had sparred with his Dragonian companion Kirtha during their two month sojourn together about a year ago, but that had not involved any true threat of death. "If you do not fight to the best of your ability, I will give you a scar as a reminder to try harder next time!" Kirtha had told him, and the thin line of white on Kor's right bicep was proof that the man had been serious, but never had there been the possibility that Kor might actually die.He found the heady mixture terror and anger awoken by the realization that this first battle might be his last somewhat electrifying. The Fundamentals were thirty-two stances, evasions and strikes which applied uniformly to every style of Dragonian combat---armed and unarmed alike---and out of which the multitude of maneuvers specific to each weapon and style developed. A Dragonian proverb taught, “He who knows the smoke but knows not the flame looses his tent to the wildfire”. In theory, a warrior could win any battle with the Fundamentals alone, but even if he were the best armed, best armored, most highly-trained fighter, he would be defeated by someone who knew the Fundamentals if he did not know them himself. Kor knew the Fundamentals. He did not know them well, for he had only been practicing them for the last year or so and had not had an opportunity to practice them against an actual opponent for months, but he did know them. These bloody Hybrids, it was clear, did not. They were fierce, they were experienced, but they had not, for whatever reason, been taught the Fundamentals. Still, there were two of them and only one Kor and, Fundamentals or not, he had a lot of work on his hands. The first warrior, a thin, wiry man with long, greasy hair that may once have been blond but was now a sort of stringy light brown, threw two small daggers at Kor before he even reached the mounted redhead. The first flew wide of its target---Kor’s eye---and the second, which could have found its home in the redhead’s jugular, was deflected by the young man’s hastily upraised right arm. It clipped his hand slightly above his wrist, stinging lightly, but the majority of the blade struck the tough leather of his bracer and bounced harmlessly to the ground beneath the horse’s stomping hooves. Kor was better prepared when the second warrior, a man with slick, dirty ebony hair, threw his own daggers, and Kor evaded them by raising both arms above his face, turning his curved blade downwards to shield his hands, and ducking the rest of his exposed torso behind his horse’s head. He did not like the idea that the borrowed horse might be injured, but it was battle-trained and that was a risk all such beasts faced. Luckily, the first of the thrown blades utterly failed to even come close to Kor or the horse, and the second was turned by his blade. Then they were on him. They spread out to either side of his horse, so that one could one could press him from the left while he was distracted with the other on his right. Luckily for Kor, his horse didn’t seem to care overly much for either man, biting and kicking at them as they came close. Kor copied the horse when he could, kicking out sharply as one man came too close and connecting with the man’s jaw to thrust him back and away. Still, they knew how to fight a mounted man, and Kor’s dagger did not have the reach he needed from horseback; it was almost an advantage to him as one, distracting him and the horse from the one side with his pike, provided the other with the opportunity to drag Kor off the horse. The redhead didn’t fight, but instead went completely limp and allowed his dead weight to collapse on top of the man, bearing them both to the ground and cushioning his fall with the other’s body. He made a point of digging his elbows and knees into the filthy man’s body as he hurriedly regained his feet and whipped around to face his opponent---not the breathless man still rising from the ground, but the man who’d a moment ago been pressing him with his pike. The man still had his pike, and to avoid its jab, Kor stepped diagonal to the outside of the pike... toward him, not away, bringing his shitan up across his chest and taking a slash at the man’s exposed armpit. He didn’t really expect the knife to connect, and it didn’t; the warrior leaned a little backwards to avoid him and Kor stepped diagonal again into that lean, bringing his other arm up and, grasping the pike, pushing it and the man backwards. The warrior lost his balance and stumbled backwards, keeping his feet but losing, for a heartbeat, the opportunity to attack. Unfortunately, the man who’d dragged Kor from his horse had regained his feet and pulled his own shitan free of his belt. The man was left-handed while Kor was right. The redhead cursed under his breath; he was ambidextrous due to many years of playing the harp, but when it came to fighting, he only knew how to use his right arm effectively; one day, he’d have to remedy that. The shitan was designed primarily as a slashing weapon. Its curved blade was sharp on both sides, but the outside was used the most; the inside was only really useful if one managed to hook an opponent’s limb or if one managed to stab and tear the weapon free of the unfortunate soul’s flesh. It was not strong enough to parry a blow, but a man who knew the Fundamentals well didn’t need to parry; he could evade. Unfortunately, evading was exceptionally hard when one didn’t know how to fight a left-handed opponent, and Kor felt a growing sense of dread as he was forced once, then twice, then again to bring his knife up to deflect the other’s strong blow. Please don’t break, please don’t break! he chanted over and over in his head, and to his dismay, heard approaching hoofbeats. From behind, the other man’s pike came jabbing at Kor’s back. He dodged sideways toward the knifeman as he saw the movement out of the corner of his right eye, avoiding the pike but bringing him a little too close to the shitan. The knife bit sharply into his side, and, knowing what could happen if it were driven further in and then ripped free, Kor stepped diagonal again in one of the most basic moves of the Fundamentals, grasping the other’s knife hand at the wrist and twisting his torso to the right so that the tip of the knife slid out of the wound cleanly. Then, taking advantage of the fact that the man’s knife hand was still securely held, he yanked it sharply toward him, grasped it with his other hand as he pulled the man toward him, and drove his other elbow, hard, into the man’s side. “Riders?!” He snapped at Jin. The Fay-el nodded sharply and stepped forward to engage the pikeman. Kor turned his full concentration to the knifeman. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah cursed beneath her breath at the sight of the skirmish. She had not expected to run into trouble that soon. With a sigh, she slowed Darman to a stop and turned to Eppie."You need to stay here." "I can fight." "I know. But I will not let your blood be on my hands." As the girl resisted, Daliah took her by the arm and lowered her to the ground. She threw down her short sword as well, so that she would have protection if they failed. She then dug in her heels and raced off once more. The fight was well underway when she came upon it, so she galloped over to where Jin and another were facing incredibly odds. They didn't appear to need much help, but it was in her instinct to fight. She drew her sword and lopped off the head closest to her, sending it flying several feet away. The she plunged it into the shoulder of another, slicing straight through the heart. "I apologize for before." she called. "You frightened me is all." She waited for the reply while engaging with a tall, burly soldier, but if there was one, she did not hear it, for he proved to be of much greater strength than she expected. Arwen9 That man is going to make a great warrior. Kor might not know the Fundamentals well, but he did know them. That was quite clear. Jin slid from Doblo’s back to the ground. This man’s pike was longer, and it was more dangerous mounted than not if that was the case.Jin moved in and out of the Fundamentals himself, though he added some of the stances as well. Raven in Flight clipped by Reaper’s Scythe; Waving Grass flowing into the Crow’s Feet. The pikeman didn’t stand a chance. When the dark-haired Hybrid finally stumbled from the speed of Jin’s attacks, the janin found its mark. Panting, Jin stopped to catch his breath. He could almost hear Terran, his closest counselor and friend, scolding him. Jin’s “style” involved quick, fast shifts from stance to stance, and Fundamental to Fundamental. The shorter man, who often bested him thoroughly, had often warned him not to do that. “You will tire out before the other man does, and then where will you be?” Terran gestured at the tattoo of a Derk-ra on his forearm, the emblem of blademaster. “You won’t win this that way.” Jin shook the thought away. He had more important things to worry about right now than what Terran thought. He spotted Kor dispatching the knife man with a combination of the diagonal step and a powerful slash from left to right. The old proverb muttered in his head. Beware the dancer: Neither deer move, nor serpent strike as fast as he. Again, Jin felt a flicker of recognition. The style of fighting was familiar to him. If Kor’s father had been a member of the Shinar tribe, it would have been around 20 years ago, with Jin just beginning to learn the Fundamentals. Could this Renji have been one of his teachers? The hoofbeats were getting louder. Jin whistled for Doblo, who came cantering to his side. Remounting, he scanned the surrounding trees for more enemies and, more importantly, Kor’s gray gelding. Neither met his sight. He sheathed the janin. They had to get out of here, and fast. Dameon’s clan, the last time it was numbered, came to over twenty men. With a tribe of 75, that wasn’t a problem; with a group of two, they were in serious danger. Jin was quite aware of what happened to those Dragonians Dameon did manage to capture. It was not a pleasant sight. In his concentration, he hadn’t noticed the slim Daliah step into the fray until now. She dispatched two men in the blink of an eye. By the Star, she knew the Fundamentals, and a great deal of the stances. A whisper of nervousness slid through his mind, but he beat it down. Now was not the time. “Daliah!” He called out, “Come on, let’s go. More are coming.” Her head swiveled in his direction, so she must have heard him. One problem down. One to go. Whipping his stallion around, he hurried to where Kor stood. “Let’s go.” The redhead glanced up at him, hand pressed against his bleeding side. Jin held out his hand to haul him up. “Let’s go,” he repeated, “We don’t have much time.” As if to confirm his words, the obscene blare of a Hybrid horn echoed in the air, followed by a renewed thrashing in the trees. Jin felt a tendril of fear snake through his chest. If they caught him… Surely by now Sheno and Layole were heading back this way. If they hurried, and if Kyda was merciful, he and Kor could catch up with them before the Hybrids did. Doblo rarely carried two, but for the short distance, it should be enough. For the first time, Jin snapped his name, rather than the insulting “Hybrid”. “Kor, get on the crescent-blinded horse!” Andante Kor blinked up at Jin for a moment, then grasped the man’s proffered hand and half vaulted and was half dragged into the saddle behind the Fay-el. “Ha!” Jin cried, giving his horse a swift kick. The redhead glanced over his shoulder, seeing that infernal sword-wielding woman fall in line behind them on her own mount. He could hardly believe his eyes---there she was again!---but gratitude surged through him at her presence. Two versus a large group of mounted men was a terrifying concept, and although three was not much better, it was better. Still… “The tribe?” he asked the Fay-el again, digging through his pocket. Firmaments! Where was it? A patch of roughness against his fingertip and then he’d pulled the sliver of kapa bark free and was sucking on it. He’d have to find more later, if they survived. More of everything; the entire blazing herbal kit had been lost with his horse and all he had now were a couple slivers of kapa and a nearly-used jar of salve. That wouldn’t be enough to treat Jin, let alone them both and anyone else who managed to get injured in this fray. “The tribe can fend for itself. But we need their help.” The two horses thrust through a tangle of branches as the enemy surged through the trees behind them. Kor caught a flash of throwing knives and spotted at least two bowmen. One man pointed at the fleeing riders and kicked his own horse into a run. The woman reached down into the grass and dragged a girl out of the darkness and into the saddle before her. Jin’s head swung around and widened as he took in the sight of the clinging child, but he whipped around again as quickly as he too took in the ranged weapons and gave his horse its head. Kor glanced behind him again, shitan clutched tightly in his hand, becoming slippery with blood from the stinging nick above his vambrace. One of the bowman was within his reach and he wanted to throw his weapon at the man, but stars!, if he did that he’d be out his only weapon! And so he held onto it, hoping none would come close enough that he’d have to use it. Behind him came the sound of a bow being released and an arrow punched deep into a tree before them, having narrowly missed the woman’s back. “This way!” Jin called back to her as he spotted the imprints of the tribe’s feet and the deeper impressions of their horse’s hooves in the damp early morning dirt. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah ducked as the arrow came near. By lights, that had been closer than the last one! The next may meet its target."Here." she shoved the reins into Eppie's hands and turned in her seat. She took her bow from its place and counted her arrows. Five. She would have to be careful. Her first hit one of the bowmen, sending him to the ground to be trampled. The second struck a horse in the chest. But the third struck off a piece of armor and became lodged in the dirt. Then she had to turn back around, with two arrows left and a heart full of dread. Arwen9 Doblo had the bit in his teeth and charged ahead, stride fully extended. The trees were thinning rapidly, which was both good and bad. There was no worry of the powerful stallion tripping on an upturned root or moss-slick boulder, but without the trees to block the flying arrows, they would be lucky to escape with their lives, much less untouched. Daliah was followig hard behind them. Jin could hear her horse's hooves pounding at his back. Unfortunately, he could also hear a myriad of other horses and men chasing after them as well. Dawn sent golden fingers trailing through the trees. A gleam of sunlight on water was barely visible through the greenery. Jin wrenched Doblo's head around and made a beeline in that direction. That was a likely place for the tribe to camp. Fresh water, and grass for the horses. They burst through the shrubs, branches lashing at them as they passed, Jin spotted hurried movement to his left and right. Not Hybrids. Jin swiveled, waving at Daliah an mouthing, "Get down." Before turning back to guide the war horse again. "Kor," he snapped over his shoulder, "Duck." He hoped the redhead had heard him. The movement had to be his own sentries. They would use the bow first, and ask questions later. If Kor was close to their chieftain, however, they probably would not attempt it, and they certainly would not fire on a woman. The camp was spread out before them. A wheel-like arrangement of tents, with his own in the most protected center of the camp. At his back, Jin heard the bushes snap with the arrival of Dameon's men. The whisle of released arrows was audible a moment later. Dameon's men? Or the sentries? Andante Kor was a tall man, but Jin was taller. The Fay-el told him to duck, and duck he did, but the only thing to duck behind was Jin himself. As the sounds of bowstrings being released cut through the air, Kor cringed, then straightened with a look of relief upon his face when, behind him, he heard two sharp exhalations of men in pain.Still though, there were many riders gaining on them, and, as far as Kor could tell, only two Dragonian sentries. Luckily, their loud arrival brought Jin's other warriors to sharp attention, and after the initial frenzied moments of men grabbing weapons and stringing bows, Kor knew that they had enough fighters to face off against these mounted threats with something better resembling equal odds. Jin, Kor could tell, sensed it too, wheeling his horse around to face the oncoming attackers, his janin held out to his side, ready. A second volley of arrows were released, this time by the attackers. One whizzed past Kor's left ear, and he snarled. Leaning precariously in the saddle and pointing his shitan directly at the emerging Hybrids, he bellowed angrily, "Fools! You press this attack, you will die here, to a man!" Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah admired Jin's bravery. Even she would have run from something like this. Maybe having a friend would not be so terrible, though she would probably lose him in the end.She decided to stay with him for now, long enough to see what kind of person he was. It had been so long since she had been around anyone other than Darman... "So what is the plan?" she asked, gripping her sword tightly. She had loosened it when an arrow nicked her shoulder. It was not bad, it just came as a shock. "I can take a couple with my bow, and perhaps one more with my knife before they reach us." He nodded and she knocked it back by her ear. She aimed carefully this time, since she had to make it count. It hit one of the larger men in the center, and threw the one next to him off balance. It took everything in her not to grin at that moment, especially as more fell under the blows of Jin's tribe. She savoured the last arrow, unsure whether or not to use it. Then she decided against it. They might need it later. So she drew her sword once more and waited for their line to surge forward. Arwen9 Jin felt Doblo tremble beneath him, ready to charge into the battle. He held the stallion in check however. He was looking for a particular foe right now. The twins, Sheno and Layole, had moved protectively to his side, their eyes on both the surrouding enenmies and on Kor, the latter with some curiousity. Jin was not in the mood to enlighten them.If he knew Dameon at all, the cowardly Hybrid would flee at the sign of any danger, or overwhelming odds. One good charge from him, and maybe Daliah too, would make him dart away, taking his filthy band with him. Where could he be? Never in the front of the line, he had to be nearby just the same. Where...there! With hair the same shade as Elam's own and sitting astride a big black, Dameon was easy to spot. Even more so with the disfiguring scar trailing down his face. He had a short, curved dagger in one hand, and a lance marked with raven feathers in the other. Dameon excelled in the use of both. Jin half-turned his head. Kor still held his shitan tightly, muttering what souned like Aquila profanity at the approaching Hybrids. The man had fire in his blood, that was for sure. Jin frowned thoughtfully. He may be prepared to dash through the lines after Dameon, but that didn't mean he had to take Kor with him. Dropping the reins to free his hands and tightening his hold on the janin, Jin said. "I'm going after the Hybrid's leader. Layole's horse can carry you both, if you wish." Andante Kor's sharp blue eyes slid sideways toward the Dragonian warrior Jin indicated for a moment and he hesitated before looking again toward the battle. Then a slow, feral grin spread across his face. "Take me with you," he said firmly. "I'm getting my own blazing horse."Jin twisted in the saddle to look at him. "You're going to what?" the Fay-el demanded, and then a half-breath later he cursed and turned back toward the enemy as an arrow punched deeply into the ground just in front of his horse's impatient hooves. "Edda's Thumb, Kor, we don't have time for this!" "Let's go then," Kor snapped with a nod. "Ride fast'n'hard for the man you seek. I'll take care of the rest." The Dragonian chieftain swung his attention back toward the battle. "I hope you know what you're doing," he murmured as he dug his heels into his stallion's side. Behind him, the rest of the Dragonians flung themselves into battle with him, encouraged by their leader's charge. Kor was actually pretty sure he didn't know what he was doing, but he was going to do it anyway. Already, as Jin galloped directly toward some target Kor could not yet actually identify---the Hybrid leader, Jin had said?---the redhead spotted his own victim... well, his victim or his death... As Jin was just about to be abreast of Kor's hastily selected opponent, Kor held his shitan in a white-knuckled grasp, his eyes locked upon his completely-stationary opponent where the man sat calmly upon his roan's back with only a crossbow in his hands. Then, leaning precariously out of the saddle and knowing full well it wasn't going to matter one bit in a moment, Kor half dove off of the horse's back in his sudden passing-lunge toward the unsuspecting warrior, wrapping the startled Hybrid in a bear hug and dragging them both out of their respective saddles as he tackled the other man, at a full gallop, to the ground. It felt like the ground slammed upwards into him. The cold, packed earth was far, far harder than Kor expected and the warrior who landed on top of him was much, much heavier. The hoof of the fallen Hybrid's horse stomped about a centimeter away from Kor's temple and the redhead barely even noticed as he struggled to regain his breath and stop the spinning of his head and protesting of every bone in his body. It felt like a new blade had slid between his ribs, and Blood, the Hybrid was heavy! Heavy, and utterly, terribly still... Kor rolled the body off of him, finding his shitan half buried in the man's throat. They were both covered in blood; the blade had severed the Hybrid's jugular in the fall. Heh, maybe Edda was looking out for Kor today! Still, the redhead hurt... blazes he hurt! And, stars and crescents, he still had to get up and claim the Edda-forsaken horse! Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah grunted as she pulled her sword from a hybrid's chest. Their armor was a lot tougher than she was used to, but she was not one to back down from a challenge. She thrust it toward another, excited at the the clang of metal on metal.They parried for a moment, lost in the heat and blood from the battle. Then they were joined by another, friend or foe, she did not know. Foe. She quickly beheaded the other and turned to him. He proved a better fighter than the last, surely trained by a master. Perhaps he was a master himself. She pondered this for a moment before realizing that she had to concentrate this one. He combined several different techniques, and she did not know what to expect from him. A slow smile crossed her lips. This should be interesting. Arwen9 He felt Kor's weight shift a moment before he left the saddle completely. Kor had to be star-struck; he just had to be. That or some god had special interest in him. If the Hybrid was always this brash...that he survived to adulthood was a wonder. Jin didn't have time to consider it. He spotted Daliah dueling with what he recognized as a commander's second. Seconds were bodyguards, well-trained, and would fight to the death if their "master" was close. He hoped Daliah realized that. At the moment, Jin's focus was on Dameon. A few of the Hybrid forces were retreating already from the rain of arrows from Jin's side of the battle. Those did not belong to Dameon's clan, rather they had probably joined up with him at the prospect of booty or killing. Dameon's men had not budged. The Hybrid was known for his firm hold on every one of his men, and severe punishment for rebellion or desertion. Though two years younger than Jin, he had the strength of will of an older leader. Jin locked eyes with him, saw the blue of them narrow in recognition. Dameon mouthed a command and his second nudged his horse between Jin's oncoming charge. Jin waved a hand and his men spread out, chasing down their own foes. Something nagged at the back of his mind but he pushed it aside. Dameon tucked the dagger into his belt, and raised the lance high. Jin nudged the stallion on into a pounding charge, outdistancing his own second, Layole. He heard the twin calling out to him, but he ignored it. Layole would catch up. Dameon watched his approach with unnerving calm, cocking his head idly to one side. Why wasn't the cowardly Hybrid fleeing, as he had done so many times before? Again, a fleeting thought trickled into Jin's mind. What had he forgotten? What was he missing? Something moved in the chaos of warriors and horses dashing here and there. A shadow unfolding at Dameon's side. There was his answer. Dameon had two seconds. Jin's mind comprehended it at the same time as he spotted the crossbow in the man's burly hands. He grabbed Doblo's reins with his free hand and wrenched on the stallion's head. The range was perfect for the crossbow. He presented a clear target. Jin could hear Kor, (who must still be alive then) shouting at him. Andante Uttering a curse under his breath, Kor rolled away from the body of the fallen Hybrid and the warrior’s mount, taking up the dead man’s crossbow as he went. He lurched to his feet in three motions, clamoring first to his knees, then planting his fists---one clutching the crossbow, the other the shitan---in the mud, and finally pushed up to his feet. He was covered in mud and blood, most of it from the gushing tear in his opponent’s jugular but some fresh from his own side.Now, what was he doing? He looked around in confusion, seeing the clash of Dragonians and Hybrids. Oh, that’s right, killing people. There was a blur of movement to his left and he swung around, slashing with the shitan at what he only assumed was an opponent. Oh good, it was. The Hybrid fell back, clutching his arm, and then, to Kor’s surprise, turned to run with a small group of his fellows. What in the name of Edda… running away already? But the majority of the foes did not run, but instead stood their ground to withstand the Dragonian charge. Where was that demon-blessed Fay-el? Ah, there he was, charging headlong toward what Kor could only assume was the Hybrid leader. To Kor’s surprise, Jin pulled back on his reins sharply, driving his horse to a dead halt as a man emerged from behind the enemy leader. Kor spotted the crossbow at the same time Jin did and shouted something---he didn’t know what---as he raised his own stolen crossbow, fired, and saw the crossbow-wielding Hybrid start as though slapped. For a moment their eyes met across the clearing, and then the warrior toppled from the saddle, his crossbow falling, unused, to the ground beside him. Ha! Kor thought in victory. I didn't accidentally shoot myself or something! He turned to look for another opponent, feeling slightly lightheaded and queasy and hoping the battle would end soon. The crossbow was out of bolts and he dropped it to the ground, spotting at the same time a man coming toward him. One hand crossing to touch his screaming side, he stepped back into one of the basic stances of the Fundamentals, bending his back knee slightly, and lifted his shitan to the ready. Edda's Balls, why am I here again? Oh right... joining the Dragonian cause and all that...And my demon-blasted horse is getting away! Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah was tempted to ask her opponent his name and station, but there was no time for conversation. She could only flick the blade again and again to block the rapid fire attacks.Suddenly she felt a shock of pain. She was forced to drop as his sword sliced her arm and curved once more toward her head. The ground was fairly soft at least. She scrambled with her left hand for her own sword and hurled it at the horse's side. Before her attacker knew what had happened, she had hacked through the strap of the saddle. He too was thrown to the grown and stabbed in his side. She crawled over and leaned over him, wishing to gain one last look upon this face so worthy to die. That was when she recognized him. "You killed him." she whispered. "I loved him and you killed him." A look of confusion crossed his face before she drove the blade into his throat, savoring the last look of despair in his eyes before death clouded them. Arwen9 Jin couldn't decide if he should be thanking Kyda, or Kor. Dameon's eyes narrowed in hatred, and he whirled around, his remaining second following hard on his heels. Jin clenched the janin tighter, and started to urge Doblo forward, but a hand snaked out and grabbed the reins. Layole's chestnut danced at his side. "They're retreating." he said quietly. "Layole-" "Not now." His second's level personality had been the main reason Jin chose him. Even now, his anger dropped at the man's quiet advice. They turned back together. At Jin's nod, Layole signaled to one of the lieutenants, who in turn lifted a horn to his lips and dipped Jin's banner. In a few moments, those Hybrids who remained had been slaughtered or fled. The warriors were busily gathering their wounded, or stripping the bodies of weapons, both enemy and friend. Jin grimaced at the gruesome sight. Few warriors had a sword, and most had more children than arrows. The dead had no need of them. Jin rode to the center of camp, and then dismounted wearily. At his feet, a crude circle had been etched into the ground. The Council Circle. Though no new laws had been added, nor was the Loha Festival due for another four moons-still, every new camp set up involved drawing the Circle into the dust. Jin settled himself cross-legged on the ground. "Layole, find out our losses. And our 'guests' need to be found, if they're alive." The second gave him a curt nod and glided into action. Light laughter preceded the scuffle of feet. Jin looked up, and then smiled. Elam, his son, leaped into his arms, nearly bowling him over. "Has Rowan been taking care of you?" "Uh-huh." Jin fingered the flaxen hair. The widow had raised Jin and his brother, after his parents' death, and now cared for Elam. He was two years from Confirmation (10). Jin wanted to keep him as innocent as possible until then. Footsteps made Jin look up again. Andante "They retreated," Kor stated the obvious as he stepped up to the Fay-el's shoulder. He glanced down at his hand, where he found himself absentmindedly wiping his shitan clean on his off-white tunic. His lip curled in distaste and dismay as he regarded his filthy shirt, but then he shrugged. A little more blood and mud would not harm the shirt anymore after battle had already thoroughly ruined it.Jin nodded curtly. "Yes." A man of few words. Kor tucked his blade into his belt on the opposite hip of his captured crossbow. His hand was shaking a little, whether with bloodloss, exhaustion or nervous energy he didn't know. "Your men are not going to pursue them?" The Fay-el's eyes narrowed and for a moment he stared off in the direction of the enemy. Then---"No." "They might come back," Kor pointed out. Still Jin did not look at him. "They will. But not yet. They took us by surprise and lost. They will seek reinforcements before they return. We have days, two weeks perhaps... and we will not remain here long. The Eloin are too close, and they... they we are not prepared to fight." Kor was digging through his pocket with shaking hands. He only had one sliver of kapa bark left, but he snapped it in half and handed it to Jin. His proffered hand was covered in mud and blood, a good deal of it his own, but Jin didn't seem to notice, taking the bark from him and tucking it between his teeth and cheek. "Where will you go, then?" Kor asked as he chewed on the bark, hoping to release its analgesic qualities faster that way. The heat of the battle was flowing from him like water, leaving him cold, exhausted, and aching. If the tribe did not have their own healer, he would need to set out soon to find the herbs to treat himself, Jin, and---he noted with a glance toward the woman---Daliah as well. But he didn't want to... not yet. Rest first, then the herbs. If, of course, Jin even intended to allow him to stay. The Fay-el regarded him with cool emerald eyes. "I thank you for dispatching Damien's second, Kor." Kor sighed. Still not trusted, then... Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah let out a long groan as she climbed back into the saddle and nudged Myna into a slow trot over to the men. She knew she would not survive on her own, so she would stay...For now. Arwen9 Daliah joined their trio, dropping the reins of her horse and sliding down from the saddle.Jin could see the Healer headed their way, and resisted the urge to groan. That was going to be painful, though the kapa bark was helping. Layole glided to his side and, crouching down, filled him in on the condition of the tribe. Ten dead, six wounded, but they should be able to move on by tomorrow's dawn. He had completely forgotten about Elam, until he heard the boy's clear voice. "You look like Joran, though he's not a Hybrid," Elam said. He giggled, reaching for Kor's hair, "Is it real?" "Elam, leave him alone." Elam glanced at him, blue eyes wide. "Da, I won't hurt him." He glanced back at Kor and, spotting their shared eye color, grinned wider. "See, he looks like me." Jin cringed. Anyone with eyes to see could tell Elam was a Hybrid as well. If Kor called him that... Andante Kor raised an eyebrow at the child, then carefully rose from where he sat next to Jin and Daliah to kneel, eye to eye, before the boy. "Goodness, look at that, you do have eyes like me! And what a handsome pair of eyes they are, eh?" he said with a broad conspiratorial grin. Then he pointed to the boy's waist, where a miniature dagger hung from his boiled-leather belt. "And by Edda, look at that shitan! I bet you're turning into a fine Dragonian warrior!"The little boy grinned proudly. "I already know the first four Fundamentals!" An old man knelt shouldered between Kor and Jin and began examining the wound in the Fay-el's shoulder without a word. Kor gasped at Elam. "Really? You must be a great warrior, to know so much already! I didn't learn my Fundamentals until I was... goodness... probably more than twice your age." The healer raised an eyebrow in surprise and inturrupted their conversation with the single-minded ease of the truly old. "Someone has already packed this," he commented in a slow, faltering voice. Jin tilted his chin to Kor. The Dragonian healer nodded slightly in satisfaction. "Yeah," Elam said to Kor with a giggle, "but you're a Hybrid. You would have learned earlier if you were a Dragonian." He cocked his head curiously at Kor, who settled back down to sit crosslegged on the ground. "You do look a lot like Joran though, and he's of the tribe." "Who is Joran?" Kor asked. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah pulled her arm away from the healer and nodded toward the others."They need your help more than I do." The man shook his head. "They are being tended to. You are the last one." "All right then." She pulled her sleeve away from the cut and held it out. Once it was treated, she dismounted and checked Myna over. There were a few cuts, only one that would have to be treated. She dug through the saddlebags, at last drawing out the ointment she needed. It took a moment to warm it in her hands, but she applied it quickly, singing softly to distract the horse from the pain. That attracted some attention, but she ignored it. Instead she looked at the boy. He was so adorable, just like she always wanted. No, she must not think of that. Her life would not consist of a family. Unfortunately, Jin noticed her staring. "Do you need something?" he asked. "No." she shook her head. "I was just noticing his dagger. It is a very fine one. He should make a great warrior someday." He didn't look convinced. She turned back to Myna and cursed beneath her breath. He had seen her weakness. Arwen9 Jin would have to be blind to miss the longing in Daliah's eyes. With the Eloin and Hybrids choking them down, raising children was risky at best. Had she lost her own children and husband? Or someone close to her? She had her own form of beauty, so unlike Jin's now dead wife, Karli. Where Karli had been a fragile flower, Daliah was a sharp, shitan- useful, but with a beauty all its own. Blinking, Jin curbed his wandering thoughts. He saw the Healer coming back and, more importantly, the needle in his hands. Jin turned his head away. He had to focus on anything but the man's painful ministrations. With their nomadic lifestyle, harvesting or cultivating herbs was difficult. Serious injuries would allow him to take valla to put him under, or serenia to numb him completely, but with a minor wound like this--endurance took on a different meaning. Elam chattered away with Kor, showing off a few of the Fundamentals he had picked up. "Joran, he's my friend. We spar together." The two were about the same height and weight, though Joran was a few years older. Unfortunately, Jin knew Elam would not grow much taller, (a curse of his Hybrid heritage) unlike the fully Dragonian Joran. Sparring enabled them both to get used to the Fundamentals, both using them and recognizing them backwards. Joran, yes, they did look alike. If he ignored the reddish hair, and pictured the stormy gray of Joran's eyes...very much so. Joran's father had died in an Eloin raid when Jin was still very young. Corin would have known him, but Jin's elder brother was dead. He grimaced at the memory. Tanniyn, the Eloin king, had sent Corin's body to the new chieftain, that is, a dismembered body. Quite forceful a threat. "Turok," he whispered to the Healer, "Send the Keeper to me when you're finished." "Aye." His tone was distracted. Jin gasped as the needle drove deeper than was necessary. It was not a good idea to distract the ancient man. He bit his lip to keep from crying out more. The Healer was half done, thank Kyda. Andante Kor watched the Healer’s ministrations upon Jin with a growing sense of discomfort. Kor may have known somewhat of medicine, but he was not familiar at all with being the recipient of a Healer’s care. He’d always had a hearty constitution; rarely had he been ill, and although he’d had his fair share of childhood bumps and scrapes, never had he been in need of more than perhaps a touch of his mother’s ointment. Other than this day, he’d never been in battle beyond that single time two years ago, and never had he had the ill occasion to find himself under a Healer’s needle.Jin, he could tell, was accustomed to such care. The warrior chieftain bore the Healer’s touch with a slightly impatient, bored resignation. The elderly man knew his craft, there was no denying that. However, he had lived some four of Jin’s and Kor’s lifetimes, and the time during which his hands were steady and sure had long since passed. Many a time Jin gasped, cursed or jumped under his touch, and Kor squirmed in sympathy and dread as he watched the old man unpack, cleanse, repack, stitch, salve and finally bandage the Fay-el’s wound with shaking hands. Stars and crescents! Has the old wheezer no concern for the pain of his charge? Edda’s Balls, if that’s how he handles his own Fay-el, how in the blazing firmaments is he going to treat a lowly little Hybrid such as myself? “You now,” the old Healer grunted, gesturing Kor toward him after he’d tied off the bandage binding Jin’s shoulder. The Fay-el glanced sympathetically at Kor as he carefully slipped his wounded arm back into his tunic. “Come here.” The Healer chuckled as Kor reluctantly rose to his feet, patting Elam absently on the head as he passed. The sound which emerged from the old man’s lips was more cackle than laugh. “Surely, having taken a sword to the side, you don’t fear the prick my little needle, boy!” Kor felt the blood rise in his cheeks, but a moment later he barked out a laugh. Settling himself before elderly man, he said, “No, I suppose not, when you illuminate the situation in such a light. Twas a shitan, in any case, not a sword. I twisted away from the blade at the last possible opportunity, and so am fortunate that the wound is not terribly deep.” The Healer squinted at the wound in the early morning grayness. “Deep enough. Take this shirt off; it is beyond salvaging and we will give you another." He grunted his satisfaction when Kor complied and bent back to his task. "You are right, boy. This could have been far worse. Rest you a bit, then, as I do what must be done. Ah, you did not pack this, as you did the Fay-el’s wound?” Kor gritted his teeth as the Healer probed the wound lightly. “There was no time for such things. Also, I have lost my herbs.“ “Where did you learn your craft, Hybrid?” He said the word with no malice and Kor was not offended. “The herbs with which you treated the Fay-el’s wound are familiar to me, but they are not from these parts and it is rare indeed that I see their like in use or have the occasion to harvest that particular lichen for my own stocks. It is unfortunate indeed that your supplies were lost, for I would greatly have liked to trade a few items with you. But perhaps we could have words later about your training; I would enjoy comparing knowledge of our shared craft with you. Even in my... advanced age... there is always more to learn.” The Healer’s slow, careful speech plodded with infinite deliberateness from his lips as he worked on cleaning the tear in Kor’s side, so that it was all that Kor could do to keep still and wait for him to say his piece before responding with a good deal less patience, “I too would enjoy such an exchange, goodsir. To tell you the honest truth, the healing arts were my mother’s craft; all I have learned, I learned from her lips, but she departed this world two years ago and can teach me no longer. Any knowledge you might share from the wisdom of your years would be greatly appreciated, and in return I will offer what meager knowledge I might give you in exchange.” The Healer cleared his throat of a great gout of phlegm as he continued sponging Kor’s side with as much gentleness as he was capable of. “Yes, well, there will be time enough for that in the days to come. I know not how long our good Fay-el plans to keep you, boy, but you’ll be here at least three more days whilst this wound knits.” He glanced sharply toward Jin, who nodded curtly in agreement. “The two of you---aye, and the girl too---should restrain yourselves to light work for the coming week if at all possible. Burst your stitches and I shall not be as gentle in replacing them, I assure you! Tonight you, Hybrid, and the girl as well, shall sleep in my tent where I might keep watch over you to be sure you do not succumb to fever. Layole will of course attend similarly to our Fay-el in the comfort of his own tent. The weapons of our enemies are sometimes poisoned and always filthy; only time will tell if the wounds have been fouled, although swift tending such as this should prevent complications. Nevertheless, heed well my instructions.” Jin chuckled dryly at the Healer’s words and Kor’s look of surprise. “You speak as though you are Fay-el here and not I,” he chastised lightly. The Healer looked at him archly. “Where my patients are concerned, I am.” Jin did not refute his words, though whether it was because he was tolerating the stubbornness of an old man or submitting to the authority of a healer, Kor could not tell. Kor sat still through the same process Jin had endured, squirming and cursing a fair deal more than the stalwart Fay-el had, and then was finally released. The Healer turned his attention to Daliah with the same combination of sureness and unsteadiness, and then, once all of their wounds had been cleansed, stitched and bound, a young woman brought them each a wooden bowl of stew and a foul-tasting tea the Healer had ordered made earlier. They ate and drank before the fire, listless and sore, as the old man left to fetch the one Jin had called the “Keeper.” The redhead turned to Daliah, feeling more drained than he had all day and drowsy besides, most likely from the heavy dosage of Valla in the tea. “It is fortunate that you came, my good woman. I thank you. Your skill with the sword would put many a man to shame." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah nodded and pulled out her knife. She needed to replenish her store of arrows. There was some comfort in watching curls of wood strip away from the stick. At least she still had some of her arrow heads with her, but they would have to be sharpened."Thank you for your kind words. But it is merely a result of a lifetime of training. There is nothing about me that is superior to anyone else." "Who trained you?" the man asked. She paused for a second to look at him, then returned to her work. "A kind man. Far greater than any I have met." She sighed. "I found the man who ended his life, and today he received the same. Now if you excuse me, I need to find more wood." Daliah walked back into the trees, bent low to pick up branches that would serve for her purpose. She did not wander too far from the fire, since she did not have the energy to get lost. After a while, she returned and proceeded to shape the remainder and fit them to the arrow heads. Once she began, the boy, Elam, walked over to her. "Can I help?" he asked. Daliah preferred to work alone, but the child was so interested that she actually smiled at his request. She handed him one of the heads. "Do you think you can find a rock I can sharpen this with." He nodded and dashed away, coming back shortly with a stone in hand. She took it from him and showed him how to carve the end into a point. At first she held his hands in hers to add pressure, but it was not long before he could do it alone. "Would you like your own bow and arrows?" she asked, looking at Jin for approval. Arwen9 Jin nodded his consent. He allowed himself to smile slightly, "You'll have to do the teaching, however. That is a skill I lack, and most of my men have more apprentices than they need."He saw Daliah's glance of surprise. As Dragonia was known for its archers, that the Fay-el of a tribe did not use the bow had to be unusual. The Keeper's arrival distracted his attention, though he could hear Elam's cries of delight. The middle-aged man had already gathered an armful of parchments, brush, and ink. He handed them to Jin without a word. The Keeper knew him well. The names of the dead needed to be added to the roster. Usually, Jin added them, to help him remember each loss better. He was one of the few Fay-el who was not illiterate. Most were. Warrior training was considered more important. Hhis teacher's scolding popped into his head. That's what Keepers are for. Jin shook the memory away. He had been a second son, never intended to become Fay-el. He had been lucky to learn. Corin never did. Jin also had no intention of allowing Elam to be unable to read and write, no matter what his station became. After a few minutes of struggling to use his left hand, (which was making his normally neat script look like Elam's) he gave up and handed the pieces back. "You'll have to do it this time." A curt nod, and the man went to work. Jin watched him for a minute. The spidery scrawl was better than his attempts, though not by much. "While you're at it..." The Keeper glanced at him. "Could you find the name of Joran's father?" Jin continued. "Aye." Layole returned. Jin felt his hand resting against his shoulder in a silent request. He glanced at his second. "Where's Terran?" "Fretting. I'm sure he'll want to scold you in the morning, but I sent him away for now," His russet eyes narrowed, "As you are going to bed." Jin heard the implied command. "I'm coming." The Valla was kicking in. He could feel its warmth spreading across his chest. Jin turned, catching Layole's eye. "Wake me in the fifth point. No later." "But-" "No later." Layole's disapproval was written across his face, but he ceased arguing. The Eloin were much too close. He had to move the tribe. They, or the Hybrids, could attack again. Their resources were seriously depleted now. And the fall was half finished. It was too much for him to worry about now. Jin shoved it to the back of his mind, and followed his second away from the little group. "Layole, keep an eye on Kor. Some might..." he staggered, and the second gave him a gentle nudge to keep him standing. Jin shook his head and continued, "They might take out old hurts on a new face. He is Hybdid-A Hyrid..." The Healer must have put quite a dose of Valla in that tea. Layole cut off his rambling. "I will. You rest." Andante The voice came a cluster of young warriors sitting on the other side of the fire. “So, Hybrid, that hair natural, or you dye it in henna like a woman?” A couple men laughed, but Kor could not pinpoint the original speaker among them.The redhead was leaning back heavily on both hands, wanting nothing so much as to lie down. The Healer had departed to prepare his large tent for Kor and Daliah. Daliah had been led away by a nother woman to change out of her muddied, bloodied clothing. “Hey, Hybrid! I am talking to you!” Kor glanced slowly over toward the speaker. “Name’s Kor,” he said as amicably as he could manage under the weight of the Valla Leaf upon his tongue and mood. “Not here it’s not. Here you’re Ael Kinth. A… Hybrid.” The laughter from the taunter’s friends was louder this time and one of the men spit toward Kor but did not clear the fire. It was he who had spoken. Kor bristled at the insult. ‘Hybrid’ was nowhere near a proper translation of the Dragonian term, which referred equally to the product of rape as to the child of one who preferred congress with animals to that of other people. Gritting his teeth slightly, he forced a smile onto his face. “The red hair is natural and you’re right, I’m a Hybrid. I have my mother’s hair.” And her temper as well, Kor added silently. One of the young men rose from his place among his friends and crouched down before Kor, who didn’t move. A sneer was spread across the warrior’s face. “Who gave you that shitan, Hybrid? Did you steal it from a proper warrior?” “Twas a gift,” Kor explained for the second time that day. “From my father.” The young man grunted. “Didn’t earn it, then. You have no right to it.” “I have every right to it. It was given to me by my father. I was trained in its use by a Dragonian. It has been anointed by blood in battle.” As of today, anyway. “Thrice mine.” “I’ll fight you for it.” Kor glared at him over his half-eaten bowl of stew. “I’ve had enough fighting this day.” “Scared? Took a little prick in battle and are now ready to run off and cry?” Kor levered himself slowly to his feet and the young warrior stood quickly, reaching for his shitans as he did. Kor did not touch his own weapon, but he did, to his dismay, rock on his feet. Crescents, how much Talla did that blazing wheezer give me? No wonder the Fay-el was stumbling. “You…” He blinked as everything tilted around him. “You’re not getting this shitan from me.” The young warrior’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? Look at you? You can’t even stand. You couldn’t stop me.” He shoved Kor roughly with both hands. Kor stumbled backwards… into a warm body that stopped him like a wall. Rough hands closed on his shoulders and steadied him. “No, a drugged and injured man may not be able to stop you, Talen, but I sure can. Is this how you treat the man who fought at the side of our Fay-el?” It was Layole’s voice. Kor glanced over his shoulder and Layole nodded curtly at him. “Come, Kor. The Healer is ready for you, and Daliah as well." He glanced around. "Where is Daliah?” "Changing," Kor said. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah shivered as the cold water was dumped over her head. It felt good to wash away the grime, but the night air was chill enough without having to bathe in the river. Her head ached and her skin felt too tight for her bones. "There now, you may dress and return to your tent." One of the women handed her a length of thick cloth to dry herself on. Daliah took it and rubbed herself until she was warm and dry. The clothing chosen for her was a dress, but she did not complain. As long as the men respected her as more than a woman, she would wear it. Next, her hair was brushed as it had not been in years. The boar's hair ripped at the snarls, inducing such pain that she had never endured before. But she bit her lips together and refused to cry out until it was done. She was so grateful to get out of there. The herbs she had been given were starting to make her unsteady. She clasped her cloak at her throat and walked back to the camp. The rest of the tribe seemed to stare more than usual, yet she ignored them and sat beside Elam. He was the one friendly face of the crowd. "When will you teach me to use it?" he asked, twanging the string of his bow. "Tomorrow." she replied. She looked ahead, staring at nothing in particular. He reminded her of the young boy Gaharis found one day. She took care of him like she would a brother... or son. He never told her his name, never had the chance. The boy died three days later. "What are you thinking about?" She hesitated, trying to find a reasonable story. "I was thinking about... how I should train you if you do not get any rest." Elam's eyes widened and he ran to his tent. Daliah laughed to herself, remembering when she was a child. "You are good with him. I find that surprising." She looked at the man next to her. "Who are you?" "My name is Layole, a very close friend of Jin's. And if you hurt his boy-" "What is it you think I would do?" she asked, throwing a stick to the fire. "I am not some insensitive monster that would hurt a child." "It is not that." "What is it then? Speak your mind and do it quickly." He shook his head and gazed at the ground before meeting his eyes. "I am afraid you will leave him. I do not think he can bear it again." He stood and shook out his cloak. "Now get some rest, and if you are going to leave him, do so quickly." Daliah returned to her tent and knelt in the corner, shaken by what Layole had said. She had not meant to draw so close to Elam so quickly. With trembling fingers, she tied her pack closed and shouldered it painfully. Then she couldn't hold on any longer. She collapsed to the floor, succumbing to the forced sleep. How could she do this to him? Arwen9 Jin awakened several hours later, with Layole's help, and a throbbing headache. Daliah and Kor were probably suffering from the same symptoms. Valla was wonderful, until the next day.The tribe would not be up and about until the sixth point. Jin always rose before they did. It gave him time to collect his thoughts, to plan for the day, and, if he felt like it, worship Kyda. He had never been overly devout, especially after the Shinar massacre. The shaman had long since given up on him. Ask for tithes? Jin's tirade had ended that one. Few people would bother him at this hour, with the moons still faintly visible in the corner of the sky. "Jin?" He turned. Terran stood there, and he had kolinar. "Bless you," Jin muttered, taking the proferred cup. His friend's ebony eyes shone with amusement, "I thought you might want some." The brew was slightly bitter, but no more than he was used to. More importantly, the hot tea both eased pain and shoved the grogginess he still felt down to a tolerable level. "You're going to scold me, aren't you?" Jin remarked. Terran shook his head, chestnut hair brushing against his shoulders. "Enduring Turoc's unsteady hands is punishment enough, I believe." They shared a smile over that one. Both had been under the Healer's touch before, and neither liked to repeat it. "The Keeper was looking for you," Terran commented. Jin glanced his way, eyebrows arched in question. The kolinar was definitely improving his mood. "Hmm?" "Joran's father, you asked for that?" "Aye." "Renji. According to the records, why?" Jin blinked in surprise and turned around. "Renji? Are you sure?" "Aye. The Keeper checked twice to be certain, as it was you asking," Terran cocked his head, "You have my curiosity." "Later. I'll explain later." He glanced at the cup in his hand. "Kor might like some kolinar, don't you think?" "The Hybrid? I suppose so," Terran scowled slightly, "You know I hate when you change the subject." "I didn't." Jin said no more, but went searching for the redhead. He wasn't angry, only puzzled. When Jin spotted Kor, he was relived to see Layole with him. He had enough respect for the man that he had no desire to see him wounded or killed from old hatred. "Good morning, Kor. A little early for you to be up, isn't it?" Andante "Morning?" Kor responded groggily. "Don't you mean afternoon?"Jin handed him a mug of something with his good arm. "Kolinar. It'll help wash the last traces of Valla from your limbs. You'll have to ask Turoc what's in it, for I know not. And yes, I suppose it is afternoon. Forgive me, we keep an... unusual schedule, these days, but habits of speech die hard." Kor grunted but nodded his thanks to the Fay-el, sipping from the warm but bitter liquid he'd been offered. He tasted the sweetness of kapa berries barely masking the tartness of anderberries and the bitterness of an extremely low dosage of Valla. In the background was a faint taste of something he could not identify; he'd have to ask the old Healer about it later. They sat in silence for a while as Kor sipped slowly from the tea and Layole, Jin and the young warrior who'd accompanied Jin to the dead campfire sat a few feet away, talking amongst themeselves in low voices. Kor, who was not in the best of moods, did not resent being ignored for the time being. He'd woken to the throb of a Valla hangover at his temples and the throb of the wound in his side. Even in the late afternoon sunlight and the small fire pit in the center of the Healer's tent, it had been cold, and after waking from his drugged sleep well over an hour earlier and failing to fall back asleep, he'd finally resigned himself to the sad fact that it was time to wake up. When he'd finally emerged from the Healer's tent---dressing first in a set of worn but clean clothes the still-sleeping Healer had left out for him the night before---it had been late afternoon and Kor had been surprised to find that the majority of the camp was asleep and the campfires had long ago been stamped out. However, on reflection, it made sense; the tribe seemed to travel at night, and they had to rest sometime; during the day seemed as good a time as any, for at night they could travel unseen for hours at a time and at day it was just warm enough that they did not need the heat of campfires that would cast smoke into the sky and alert enemies to their presence. Layole had already been awake when Kor had risen, but there'd been no others. Kor had noted, as he approached the fire where the second had waved him over, that Daliah had her own tent and was still asleep. Layole and Kor sat in silence for a few minutes, Layole preparing a few arrows and Kor carefully unwrapping the bandages about his side to check his wound before rewrapping it with some clean cloths the Healer had left out for him. The wound hurt, but the stitches were well placed and no signs of infection had developed in the eight or so hours Kor'd been asleep. When Kor had nearly finished his tea and was beginning to feel much better, Jin extracted himself from his two companions and settled down at Kor's side. The redhead noted that he did not put any weight on his injured arm at all, but instead held it loosely at his side as he sat down. "If you would like, I can check and rebind the wound before your Healer awakens," Kor offered with a wry smile. "I know I offered myself the same service. The man knows his art, but his is not a gentle touch!" Jin chuckled. "Turoc likely will not awaken for another two hours, so there is time enough yet for that before he rises. I... would like you to meet someone today, later, when he wakes up. But first, I must begin making ready to depart. We have a long way to go tonight and much must be done before we set out in four hours." Kor did not ask where they were going, for he doubted Jin would tell him. Instead---"Have you anything I might do? Between the two of us, we should be able to do the work of one man," he said wryly, touching his side and glancing at Jin's shoulder. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ "Wake up! Wake up! It's morning!"Daliah rolled over and groaned, pressing her fists into her eyes. "Elam, what are you doing in my tent?" He hopped next to her and held up his bow. "You promised, remember?" "Oh, that's right." She froze as she recalled last night's events. How could she tell this boy she had to leave? Then she made the mistake of looking up at his hopeful face and she knew there was no way she could leave him. --- "Good. Now make sure that the string will not strike your arm when you fire." Daliah adjusted his elbow as Elam focused on the target ahead. She did not want him to have to feel the pain of the bruise, or the slice of feathers on his hand. Once he was in the proper stance, she signaled for him to fire. The arrow shot from his bow, landing a few feet short of the mark. Elam pouted. "What did I do wrong?" Daliah shook her head. "Nothing. You should have seen my first shot. I doubt if it even made it as far as yours." His face lit up. "Really?" She laughed. "Yes. You will be a master in no time. Now, I think it is time for breakfast. I can give you another lesson in the afternoon if you like." He nodded and ran back to the camp, which was fairly busy by this time. She walked slower, and was not surprised to be joined by Layole. "I see you chose to stay then." he mused, staring straight ahead. "Yes." she replied equally distant. "He does not deserve to be abandoned. "I just hope you know what you're doing." Arwen9 With Kor's help, the two of them began the work of taking down tents and repacking the travois in preparation for the journey tonight. Jin spotted Layole and Daliah walking together, talking in low voices. He had heard his second grumbling about the woman earlier, when he thought Jin was asleep. Though Sheno was married, and had three sons, Layole had never found a maiden for himself. It made Jin wonder... He turned back to his work. It felt satisfying to be doing something common, rather than the constant pressure of his normal chieftain duties. Turoc checked on them once, but left them alone, shaking his head. Jin was taking down his own tent when Kor's voice broke into his thoughts. "What's this?" The redhead had been repacking Jin's travois, making sure Elam's new "toy" was unharmed in the move. Jin turned. Kor had unwrapped the covering to his lola and was tapping the curved surface that was clearly visible. That was going to be hard to explain. "A lola." Kor's eyebrows arched. The Dragonian lyre most certainly could not be Elam's. "Yours?" "Yes," He turned back to the tent, pulling the last stake free. Kor didn't let it drop. " You have a lola?" "Is there anything wrong with that?" "No, but that's for...for-" "Minstrels?" Jin half-turned to catch his gaze. "I trained to be one before...other things." "Other things?" Jin sighed and swiveled around to face him completely. "I am-was, a second son. My elder brother was chieftain, not I." "He's dead." It was a statement, not a question. Jin nodded. "The Eloin killed him in a massacre, with Hybrid help. You can see their touch on Elam, can't you?" Andante Kor grimaced. "How poorly men treat other men," he murmured. "Elam then is not yours by birth?"Jin sighed heavily and turned away to carefully rewrap the lola in its waterproof sealskin cover. "No, but he should have been. It's... complicated. But it is no matter now; he is mine." Kor nodded as he stared enviously after the instrument as it disappeared out of sight. He knew well how to play the lyre and longed to get his hands on a Dragonian version of the instrument, but all he'd been able to see of it was the shiny, well-oiled wood of one of the instrument's bowed arms. "Know you how to play the lola?" Kor asked to lead the subject back to smoother terrain. Jin snorted. "Later, if we have time and if I can convince my shoulder to cooperate, I'll show you." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah sat by the fire with a steaming cup in her hands. It did not matter to her what was in it, as long as it was hot. In the distance, she could see Elam showing one of the other children his bow."Be careful!" she shouted, before she could stop herself. Then she shook her head at her own foolishness. Jin was his parent, not her. But it made the hole in her heart ease some to say it. The drink was sweet and comforting, and spread warmth throughout her body. After some bread, she was ready to work. Perhaps Jin and Kor could use her help. She found them packing by the tents. With an inward groan of stiffness, she knelt beside them. "What do you need of me?" she asked. "If your women try to dress me again, I cannot assure that all of them will make it safely." Jin laughed and gestured to a pile of things to be bundled. She wrapped them carefully, surprised how fluid her fingers worked. That drink had done her incredible good. The sweetness that lingered on her tongue also sharpened her senses. It would have been well to have it in some of her earlier years. Kor and Jin continued to talk amongst themselves. They seemed to enjoy each other's company. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't come. She bent her head and began to hum softly. It was a song Gaharis claimed her mother used to sing to her, so she sang it often to keep any memory of her alive. She could not remember all of the words, so in times like this she just enjoyed the tune. It might have been a song of history or of love. All she really knew of it was the lady in white. But it didn't matter. Either way, her mother sang it and so did she. Arwen9 Jin recognized the song Daliah was humming, though he couldn't think of the words to it at the moment. His three-year training had taught him most of the Dragonian lays, though his apprenticeship had been cut short by Corin's death. Whatever the song was, it seemed to have special meaning to the normally tough woman. She sang with a quiet revrence, as if remembering some other moment when she had heard it. The glint of tears suppressed was at the very edge of her eyes. A lullaby from her mother? A love song from her husband? Jin's curiousity was aroused, but not enough to disturb her private grief. Layole appeared, stopping his musings. He led a prancing Doblo and Kor's hard-won chestnut. "This is all that is left," he said, gesturing to the belongings they were still packing. "The rest of the tribe is packed and ready." "Good." They finished quickly. Jin slid onto Doblo's back and then motioned for Kor to ride at his side. It was better than his "shadows" of late. Whether the redhead noticed or not, Jin did. Both the twins, Sheno and Layole, had been nearby at some point or another, and if not them, then Terran or another young warrior. With his injury, they weren't taking chances of a surprise attack when he probably would be unable to defend himself. When he motioned the same to Daliah, she shook her head and lagged to the back of the line, riding beside Elam. The tribe had done this several times before. They covered the miles quickly, a good day's journey, though traveled at night. By the tenth point, (five in the morning) as the sun gilded the edge of the sky, they stopped. Another three days like that and they would reach the Mara Desert. Within that was one tribe of Dragonians that no longer retained the same heritage. These were called the T'Ollo, and their Fay-el, Chrys, knew Jin well. Karli, Jin's former betrothed, was his younger sister. They usually wintered there with him, in exchange for some of the tribesmen working in the marketplace Crossroads. The tribe scattered out, setting up tents within a few minutes and starting a meal. Turoc was back, insisting they eat and let him check their wounds. Jin complied reluctantly. After both being tended to and eating- Kor, Daliah, Layole, and he were sitting alone. Most of the tribe was asleep, but with their shift in schedule, none of them was tired. A few moments passed in silence, and then Kor cleared his throat. "About that lola..." Jin glanced his way, feeling Daliah's curious gaze. "I don't know the Aquila lays." Kor waved his excuse away. "I'd like to hear something Dragonian anyway." Layole had already hurried away and now returned with the carefully wrapped lyre. Pulling it free, he ran his fingers over the strings, tuning it again. Mindful of Daliah's seeming sadness earlier, he chose a slower tune. The deeper, haunting tone of the lola echoed around them. Ah, Braewin, my heart singeth for thee. Like gold lyre strings-so thou affecteth me. But you're leaving, going so far away, Across the sea, where night meets day. It rends my soul; the sweet strings are broken, Renewed by thy loving words soft spoken. Return, my love, e're the call of the sea, Or enemy's bow, forever take thee. Lest the dew clinging to forests' green boughs, The soft purity of mountains' first snow. In lands afar, make you forget to care, For I who pine- your maiden fair! Return before stars fade to morn's first light. May the silver moons show your path aright. Then shall my soul 'round thine heart tightly wend, Never parted shall we be, 'till the world's end At the final chord, he glanced at Kor and Daliah to see their reaction. Andante Kor's eyebrows had risen nearly into his red hair with surprise, and then he began to laugh. "A fine song, Fay-el, a fine song indeed. Your skill does justice to your training. I must confess that the tune is not entirely new to me. We sing... another version of the song in Aquila. It is, however, somewhat... different." He chuckled, then nodded toward the lola. "If you would permit?""You play the lola?" Jin asked, handing the instrument to the redhead. Kor stroked the strings lightly, then quickly tightened a peg at the top of the lola, humming a pitch quietly until the note matched his voice. "No," he said, his fingers working absently over a couple of chords. "But the lyre is one of my favorite instruments." He cleared his throat. "My uncle, who was a minstral long before I ever picked up my first fiddle, taught me this on. You'll find it... famliar," he said with a grin. Kor's slim, agile fingers flew over the strings in a fast, lively introduction. Jin's eyes widened immediately in recognition; the tune was in major rather than minor, and far faster, with playful echoes, but it was, undoubtedly, the same tune he'd just played. Then Kor's robust, highly-trained baritone started in, and the Fay-el and the Dragonians settled back to listen. "O Kainen, only for you I sing," said she. Then-- "Branen, dearest love, only for thee!" By morn and by eve two tunes did she play: The Lover’s Reel, and the Lover’s Lay. Ah di doo, ah di doo da deh! "Ah, Branen, my heart sings only for thee. As tawny lyre strings doth thou affect me. So play me once; then twice, then thrice! As the minstrel loves the lute, my flesh entice!" Ah di doo, ah di doo da deh! "Ah Kainen, love, my soul hums the sweet tune Of thy soft caresses ‘neath the pale moon. But you're leaving, going so far away, Across the deep sea, where the night meets day." Ah di doo, ah di doo da deh! "In lands afar, thou shalt forget to care, For I who pine- your maiden fair!" From the bed she rose as the last chord fell The Lover’s Reel ended and she said farewell. Ah di doo, ah di doo da deh! "Ah, Branen, my heart sings only for thee. As tawny lyre strings doth thou affect me. My soul round thine heart doth tightly wend I am thine alone, 'till come the world's end!" Kor flourished a little bow, and handed the instrument back to Jin. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah smiled and pulled out her flute, also feeling inspired to sing. She blew a phrase or two, then opened her mouth to sing. It was a song Gaharis used to sing, and she tried to translate it, but it still came out rough."Oh weary traveller, far from home Child of the eastern sea Tired one, you're not alone For you have come to me "Make your bed in the quiet stream Lay your head in the glade Some day you'll return to the eastern sea But first you must learn your trade "Run where the wild stallions roam Fly with the birds of the air Swim where the white fish make their home And sleep in the caves of the bear "Wrestle with the black haired wolves Wear their teeth at your neck Defeat the armies in darkest groves And then you may go back" She ended here and looked at them. "That is all I know. The rest is still in the old tongue, which I am still learning." With a smile, she put the flute to her lips once more and blew a well known dragonian tune that everyone there knew. Their voices mixed well, which made the old song even more pleasing to her. After a while she stopped concentrating on her playing and just listened. It was beautiful, unlike any other music she had ever heard. Arwen9 Jin played absently, letting his fingers wander as he watched the others. Daliah's gentle smile gave her an appealing softness. Kor was tapping out the rhythm with one hand. Layole's face was impassive, but he kept his eyes on Daliah. "Well, it's been a while since I've heard you play," a voice broke in. Jin swiveled his head. Terran smirked down at him. "Is something wrong?" Jin questioned. His frown was small. "How can you always...?" he sighed, "Slightly. I'll let you know if they get any closer." Eloin? Jin mouthed. Terran nodded and then continued, "You summoned Joran, I believe?" "Aye. Where is he?" Terran jerked his head. "There. Waiting for your permission." "Tell him to come. I want him to meet someone." "Kor?" At Jin's surprised look, he chuckled. "I'm not blind. I hope you know what you're doing." As Joran stepped into view, Jin turned away, watching Kor. Andante Kor's mouth dropped open into one of his most inelegant expressions. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. It was as though he were watching a younger, Dragonian version of himself walking toward him. Joran's approach was cautious, as though he weren't at all sure how to take this half-breed relative who'd suddenly dropped into his midst. Joran looked to be about twelve or thirteen years of age, and his eyes were gray, not pale blue like Kor's own and his hair was a subdued Dragonian black rather than bright red, but he was clearly, undoubtedly, Kor's brother.Before the two brothers had a chance to speak, a woman pushed toward them, a young girl clinging to her skirts. And Joran looked like these, too, although far, far more like Kor. "What's this, Fay-el?" the woman demanded. She pointed a finger toward Kor. "What's he doing here?" "He looks like Daddy," the little girl said, but her lower lip was extended in a pout and after a few seconds she burst into tears. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah watched in confusion. Was Kor a part of this tribe. But watching his face, he didn't seem to know this. She realized that this was as new to him as it was to her. Oh, how she dreamed of this same moment for herself. How she dreamed of finding her family.She snuck away from the cirlce. There was no way she could watch this and keep her composure. She went to Myna and sat next to her while she took up her knife and wood. Finding a shape within the mass served to calm her. She didn't know what it would be yet. Perhaps another horse, perhaps not. Most of the time, she never knew until she was done. Slowly, the body of a young maid revealed itself, arms open, hair blowing in the wind. It was often how she envisioned her mother. She tossed it to the ground and kicked dirt over it. There was no use in wanting what she couldn't have. Myna dropped her large head over her master's shoulder. Daliah stroked it while digging through her things for a treat, though the horse didn't look like she was deprived of food. She brushed the mud from her coat while Myna ate. It fell away, as did her pain. The simple task drew her mind from her own problems. She savored it like a sweet and rubbed until her hide reflected the sun. Then she was able to watch Kor and his family. Her heart still throbbed, yet it eased to see that he had a chance at repairing his past. She felt a tug at her skirts and looked down to see Elam and a couple of his friends. She smiled, realizing that she, too, had that chance. Arwen9 Jin had not intended for the entire family to come traisping in, but here they were. Turina's sharp, amber glare jumped from him to Kor, narrowed with anger. The look suggested she wanted to lunge for and strangle them both, but she had not decided which. Jin didn't wait for her to decide. "Turina, please," he tried to rest a soothing hand on her shoulder, but she moved out of his reach, throwing her head up with all the wildness of an unbroken filly. "How dare you bring this...this Hybrid here!" "I asked for the ruler of your family, not you. It is you who came without summons." That did not calm her anger. She moved into his face, dark hair waving. It was Jin who took a quick step back. She hissed, "Do you have to bring up old hurts, pain that cannot be eased?" "I do not believe Kor is after the few horses you retain. No one deserves to lose their family." Turina's anger cooled some. He saw the fire drain out of her eyes. She knew of Elam. Turina glanced at Kor, who was still open-mouthed. "I don't want him staying in my home." Jin sighed. "At least allow Joran to talk to him. I am curious how Renji crossed paths with-" "Don't say it, please don't." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ "Will you teach us now?"Daliah laughed kindly at the children's eager question, then glanced back at Jin and Kor. They were much too busy now to bother. She shook her hair back and fumbled for a string to tie it. "I will teach you if Elam will share his bow." she responded. The youths looked at Elam hopefully, and the boy graciously nodded his head. "All right, I will teach you." ----- Aletha leaned against the trunk of a tree, truly tired. Once every child was satisfied, it had taken all of the strength in her body. She sipped at her flask and sighed. It was a comforting weariness. Andante Kor frowned. "Please daena," he said, using the Dragonian term for 'goodwoman' or 'ma'am', "Forgive me; it was not my intention to offend you or to bring up uncomfortable memories. This... comes as much as a surprise to me as it does to you. You are Renji's wife?""Am, was, and always will be," Turina said curtly, staring at him through dark, distrusting amber eyes. "My father is dead," Joran explained softly, then corrected himself. "Our father. These two years past, he died fighting the Eloin." Kor swallowed. "I am sorry for your loss. And, I must confess, mine as well; I would have liked to meet him. I never had the occassion to so much as see him my entire life." Renji's widow looked somewhat more comfortable at that pronouncement. "He left before you can remember?" Kor chuckled. "He left before I was born. I was... his way of saying thanks to my mother for her services as a healer. He was injured in a skirmish with the Eloin outside our village. My mother came across him, found him senseless, and brought him to her home to care for him until he was well enough to return home to you." Turina shook her head slowly. "No, not to me. We had not yet been joined, then; Joran is the consummation of our marriage." The teenage boy blushed hotly. Arwen9 Jin could feel the tension of the moment softening. Kor's natural way of putting people at ease seemed to work even for the stubborn Turina. Joran watched Kor with open curiosity. It was to be expected. Jin felt the same way at the moment, though he had learned enough patience to wait and find out in due time. For now, Turina would prevent any conversation. Dropping his voice low, Jin pulled her aside and said, "If Joran is to pass Confirmation, you must allow him to lead." She frowned at him, but let him lead her away from the small group. "How soon?" she asked. Jin smiled lightly. A mother's heart. "A month, or less. I wish to reach the safety of Ratacca Korr first." Turina nodded. Chrys' stronghold could hold out against siege and attack for months on end, and if the port was left open, years. She stepped away and started to leave, but glanced back over her shoulder. "It's hard to let them go." "Aye." He shifted away from her gaze. Elam was due for Confirmation as well. With a shared smile of mutual understanding, they parted company. Someone cleared their throat a moment after she left. "Worried about Elam?" Terran said lightly, melting out of the shadows. "I always worry about him." "I know," he stepped closer, extending a scrap of parchment, "Chrys' messenger came a moment ago. I doubt he refused you but..." Jin took it from him. The clear sigil of the T'Ollo, dark dragon attacking the tower of Bar-Katan, made it obvious whose it was. "Now that's interesting," Terran muttered. Jin glanced at him, eyebrows arching. Terran gestured to his right. Jin followed the motion with his eyes. Daliah rested against a tree, far from the rest of the camp. She seemed to be humming, though the sad cast of her face suggested it was not for happiness. Jin frowned. He may not know what Kor and Joran were discussing, but he could certainly satisfy his curiousity, or at least some of it, with Daliah. He headed her way, ignoring Terran's chuckle. "Daliah, are you all right?" Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah swallowed her song and gazed at the sky."I tried so hard to avoid being weak." she whispered. "I told myself if I could be alone, there would be no reason for pain, no loved ones to be held against me." She looked back at Jin. "But then I was here, and now I can't seem to leave. I don't want to my heart to break again. I'm not strong enough for that." Her admission broke through the air, and she wished she could bite it back. She hated being seen like this. Jin lowered himself to her level. "Why do you think it would break again?" She shook her head and laughed a little. "There's no need to lie to me. I saw the sign. I know our chances." He stiffened. "How could you see it? I just learned of it myself." "I see many things. Well, not quite see, more feel or hear, as though someone were whispering them in my ear. Most times I cannot make sense of it, but seeing your face made it all clear." She pulled her clothes away from her shoulder and showed him the jagged scar. "This was given to me almost twenty years ago. My parents knew what our enemy is searching for, and I know where we can find it." Andante Kor nodded to the campfire, then glanced at his brother. "Come. Sit and talk with me a while. I want to know who you are."Joran looked a little uncomfortable, but he lowered himself to the ground to sit by his elder brother despite his uncertainty. Clearing his throat, he stared at Kor's bright red hair. "I don't know what to tell you," he said, his voice breaking halfway through, so that he sounded like a man at the beginning and a boy at the end. Kor favored him with an easy smile. "How old are you?" "I'm thirteen," Joran said. Kor raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Joran should have passed Confirmation three years earlier, and yet his hair still hadn't been cut. The child chuckled. "You are too polite to say anything, but I know what you're wondering, brother. I am two years from my Confirmation. I have no father or... or elder brother," and he blushed at that and stared at Kor, "to sponsor me, and so I must wait until Jin's son, Elam, has gone through his own Confirmation before Jin can sponsor mine. There is no dishonor in waiting and there is much honor in being sponsored by the Fay-el." Kor did not offer to sponsor Joran if the child wanted; that would be presumptuous so early in their relationship, and besides, Kor was not himself Confirmed and so could not sponsor another's Confirmation. "I'm sure you will do the Fay-el proud," he said instead, "and, indeed, that you have already done him proud." Arwen9 Jin hesitated. Daliah had fought at his side, seemed to be in tune with the Dragonian ways, but if she were an Eloin spy...The risk was high. If the already powerful Eloin found it first, what hope his people retained would be lost. He could think on his own; he could see the danger. A year, two, and they would slaughter or assimilate every Dragonian. Those in the Mara, like Chrys' tribe, would be next. Though he had not felt like sharing it with Kor, few Dragonians trusted the Aquila any longer. Karik, Sheno's uncle and a chieftain of his own tribe, would have killed the Aquila without question. The Aquila were seafarers; the Eloin owned almost three-fourth of the ports and harbors across the coastline. If the Aquila did rebel, they would starve. Few bothered beyond that. Jin glanced at Daliah. "You know where to find it? What are we searching for?" Her eyes narrowed. "You don't trust me." "No, I don't." She straightened and stepped away from him. Her stance was more of the warrior at attention now. "And if I said I didn't trust you?" Jin shrugged, "We would be on equal terms. Where is it?" Daliah shook her head, a grim smile on her face. "I don't think I should share it with you. Who knows what you would do?" Clenching his teeth, he stepped closer. "Crescent-blinded woman! This is foolishness." "Be that as it may, you cannot force me to do anything. No Dragonian would torture, unless his senses have truly left him." Jin scowled. She was right. Daliah grinned in victory. Now what? He had never been witty, one who did well in a debate. Give him a quill and parchment and he could make a scribe envious; a lute or lyre and he could express what he wished. But this, his mind was still scrambling for a response. To save face, he turned away from her. "Go then. I'll find it on my own, without help from a bloody, star-bred woman." He popped the seal on Chrys' message, scanning it hurriedly. Daliah sighed behind him. He heard her shift her weight in the loose leaves. Sigh again. She rested a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened. "You're stubborn, you know that?" She pulled away. By the time he had schooled his expression into an angry growl and spun, Daliah had glided away, on silent feet that even a warrior would have longed for. That...that woman! Chrys' message was simple and to the point. Jin son of Turin May the Star shine on thee and your house. You may come to Shinar, if you wish, but I must warn you. Eloin prowl still, especially in Eastar, where you will journey. If you must come to me, come through Kaama Forest, then to Crossroads before coming to Ratacca Korr. Beware the Derk-ra. The Star bless thee and guide thee in thy paths. Chrys, son of Endry. Jin grimaced. Derk-ra were dangerous creatures that roamed the Mara Desert, searching for prey. The wolf-sized lizards could disembowel a deer with their talons, crush a windpipe with their fangs, and ran as swiftly as a horse. He hoped dearly they would not cross any pack of them while traveling through the Mara. At least they would be safe in Ratacca Korr from both Eloin and the Derk-ra. Someone coughed. Jin whirled. Terran eyed him, grinning again. "You're not paying attention to your surroundings. I could have killed you." Jin scowled. "In the midst of the camp?" "Don't scoff. Assassins can still roam here in tribesman garb." Jin turned away. "I am not in the mood for a lecture." "And I am not in the mood to give one. Two scouts have returned, one wounded. They had a skirmish with an Eloin company." Jin whirled. "How soon?" "I don't know. They said they were moving fast." Frowning, Jin snapped, "Alert the tribe again. We'll have to move in the day, rather than rest." With that, he darted for the horse lines. Not again, please not again Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah had learned how to pack a camp long ago, but even she felt sluggish when the news was urgent. She joined the scurry by dousing the fire and loading Myna with supplies. The others were surprisingly quick, and it was barely a quarter hour before they were ready to leave. Jin was toward the front, so she hung behind. She would wait for him to make the first move. After all, he had much more at stake, and would surely realize that soon. She adjusted the strap of her pack, beginning to feel even the smallest weight of the arrows under the stress. These years of running were taking their toll. With a sigh, she kicked Myna's side, easing her up behind the others. She did not want to stray when she was carrying their belongings. She pulled out her knife, somewhat assured by the feeling of cold steel between her fingers. "By the light of the stars..." she whispered to herself. "Before the full moon rises." It struck her then that there was no time for her to give into Jin's games. She looked at those around her. No, she could not let them suffer. She broke Myna into a trot and pulled up beside him, though she neither spoke nor looked at him for several minutes. "I shall grant you this favor for your people's protection. But you must trust me, and it must be tonight." Andante Nudging his borrowed horse gently with his knee, Kor made to join Jin and Daliah. Layole, at the Fay-el's side, jerked slightly as he sensed the other's approach, but relaxed somewhat when he noticed it was just Kor.Talen, on the other hand, wasn't so trusting. Conversing in a small knot of armed Dragonian men, the young warrior broke away from his fellows with a dark scowl as he spotted Kor's approach. That scowl warped into a sneer as he reined his horse to block the Hybrid's path. "You are not a tribesman. You do not get to have access to the Fay-el whenever you blazing well---" The words died on his lips as his gaze fell upon Joran, who approached on horseback at Kor's shoulder. The warrior's eyes widened as his gaze flickered from between the two brothers. "You... um." "Am I to ride at your side today, Sair?" Joran interruped, addressing the Dragonian as "Mentor" as he came to a stop side-to-side with Kor. The boy was young, but his cool gray gaze was as wise and unyielding as stone. Kor saw something of the Fay-el in his little brother, noting the way the youngster masked watchfulness behind calm impassiveness. "I... yes," Talen said, clearing his throat. Suddenly he was all business. "Although if we encounter the enemy, you are to come no closer to battle than bow range. Have you your shortbow?" Joran lifted the weapon to show his instructor. "Keep it on hand always. But heed well my words. Your Father would not approve of disobedience." Again his eyes shifted from Joran to Kor, and then he turned his horse's head and returned to the other young warriors. Joran turned his steel gaze to his brother. "Talen is wary of outsiders, but he is a good man and a fine warrior." Kor grunted. "I'm sure he is," he said, unconvinced. With a brief nod to his little brother, he approached Jin and the others. "Where are we going, Fay-el? And think you can fight with that arm if need be?" He himself wasn't so sure he was ready to weild a blade, but if the Fay-el could do it, so could he, he decided. Arwen9 Daliah had withdrawn at Kor’s approach. Though Jin dearly wanted to question her further, he cut himself off and flicked a glance at the Hybrid. It took him a minute to smooth the irritation off his face and out of his tone. “What?”Kor repeated his question. Jin gave him a sidelong glance, “The Mara.” As he had expected, the Hybrid’s eyebrows arched. “The desert?” When Jin nodded, “Eppa’s balls, Jin. Have you any idea how dangerous that is?” “Aye,” he cocked his head, “I have scars from a Derk-ra.” Kor frowned, “I did not mean them, though they alone are worth concern. Even among the Aquila, we know of the T’Ollo. They are more deadly than any of the Derk-ra, be the man Eloin or Dragonian.” Jin allowed himself to smile slightly. “I know. Their Fay-el has killed more men than the number of my tribe. And his loquiri, even more.” “Loquiri?” Ah, a Dragonian word he doesn’t know? “Ask Joran. If he has listened to his lessons, he can explain.” Jin was not in the mood to give lessons, “The eastern province of the Mara is a day’s journey from us. Eastar, as it is called. We will camp at the edge of the desert tonight, with a tight watch for Derk-ra, and then cross in the early morning, while it is cool.” Jin smiled, “I doubt we will get far before the Border Guards spot us. Chrys is expecting me.” “Chrys?” “The T’Ollo Fay-el. His sister was my betrothed.” Before Kor could ask him yet another question, Layole tapped his shoulder lightly. “Jin, a scout brought word.” Jin turned to face him. Kor muttered under his breath for a second. The Hybrid obviously did not like to be ignored. But after a moment, he retreated to Joran’s side. Layole nudged his horse closer to Jin’s side once Kor had left. “There is much of you in him,” the twin commented. “Joran? I should hope so.” Layole handed him the missive, a smile quirking the edge of his mouth. “I was speaking of Kor.” Jin scowled at him, but Layole feigned disinterest and returned to his place. He tucked the missive away for now. If it were good news, he would not slow the tribe. If it were bad, they were already driving hard. Neither option was worth considering until midday, when they reached Kaama Forest at the edge of the Mara. Tonight, if all went well, he would be with Daliah. He hoped to bring something valuable to Chrys, if possible. Not that he wouldn't use it for himself as well. But, the last time he had seen Chrys was shortly after his sister's death. The T'Ollo were not known for calm, level thinking. If the sight of Elam, who resembled his mother strongly, didn't keep the Fay-el calm; the prize Daliah was promising, might do just as well. Jin certainly hoped so. Andante When the tribe pressed out again, their pace was much swifter than it had been before, and the number of warriors on watch at the outskirts of the ragged band had doubled. Kor, not yet trusted, yet also too capable a fighter to ride among the women and children, rode with the off-duty warriors.Whereas earlier this bunch may have been willing to allow some of their hostility toward the obvious Hybrid to melt through conversation or after hearing the charismatic young man sing, now, on the other hand, all was tense. The others did not speak ill of Kor, except perhaps in hushed whispers he could not hear, but neither did they talk to him, and most chose to ride somewhat away from him, to the side or a few steps behind, so that they could watch him to be sure he would not sneak up on the Fay-el. Kor was of course somewhat dismayed, but not overly surprised or offended. This was a group threatened on all sides by outsiders. It was not only reasonable that they should fear others, but in all honesty, it was also perhaps the healthiest, safest way of acting. Still, it made for a cold, lonely ride, as Joran was kept near the center of the tribe with his mother, sister and the other noncombatants, and Jin stayed with his warriors and that demon-woman Daliah, who occassionally whispered to the Fay-el, who would nod curtly and then, only when she wasn't looking stare with some hope off toward the horizon. Arwen9 Jin breathed a sigh of relief when they passed under the arching branches of Kaama Forest. Save the occassional rogue Hybrid, few would tarry this close to the Mara. The risk of Derk-ra and T'Ollo raiders, each a danger in their own right, assured that. With the fast-paced ride, few arguments would break out tonight. Most of the tribe were too tired to bother. Two fires were lit, one farther out than the other. The latter would keep the Derk-ra packs from coming too close. Usually. The preparations for night were done quickly, and with little sound. Some warriors left, returning with a handful of rabbits and a deer from the forest. The women dispatched them into a meal easily. Satisfied that everything was going well, Jin retreated from the tribe. He lost his shadow in the forest with some artful backtracking and a shinny up a tree. The man soon tired of wandering alone and headed back to the camp. Jin dropped down again and tramped off. He wanted to be alone for a while. Terran, Layole, and maybe Joran knew of the little clearing, but it was unlikely they would bother him. A willow drooped over a small stream, trailing thin fingers in the water. Clumps of bushes broke up the otherwise flat plain of grass, smothered between trees. A deer darted away when he stepped into the open. Jin smiled. Quiet. No squabbles; no Others. Sometimes, he brought the lola, if he had time. But Daliah would need him at midnight. She had whispered something about supplies and when they should leave, before hurring away. Jin settled himself on the ground beside the stream. No, not religious, but he still prayed somewhat. Best to appease the Triad as he could. He nicked his wrist, and rubbed his thumb across the oozing wound. Then, he touched the blood to the crystal that he wore, the willow's trunk, and then the water, (the proper order) before muttering the creed absently. Kyda, Kree, noble Kratan We praise and plead, divine Three Bless and guard those in need Blood of war, land and sea. Jin waited. No wondrous visions, but no deadly vipers either. Must not have offended them then. He slid the missive from its hiding place and popped the seal. The scout was barely literate, but Jin could make sense of his writing. The Eloin were still behind them, but their fast pace had left them behind. For now. With women and children, they often slowed to a crawl. But the Eloin never crossed into the Mara. Those that did rarely returned. If the tribe could last the night without a Derk-ra attack, they could pass into the relative safety of the desert. The night was suddenly silent. Jin glanced up at the moons first. Not midnight yet. He glanced over the woods. Had his shadow caught up with him finally? Tucking the missive away again, he stood. The janin was still on Doblo, safely wrapped against the blowing sands soon to come. But he slipped his dagger free, curling his hand back to keep the glint of the blade from showing. Another quick glance. No, nothing dangerous. He relaxed, staring at the figure vainly trying to stand still. "I see you. You might as well come out." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah sat before the fire, desperately trying to keep warm. Though she spent her life in the outdoors, the night held an unusually bitter chill.With a sigh, she stood and shook her leg, trying to keep her blood flowing. Despite the fire's warmth, she retreated to the closeness of the trees. Tonight she needed to be alone with her thoughts and the serenity of nature. The moon looked so beautiful over the water. She smiled and walked on, trying to remember the exact clearing she had been told to find. It had been so long ago. She closed her eyes and stopped, then spun around. It was a trick Galahad had shown her. Once she opened her eyes again, she saw what she was looking for. The tree stood alone, as she remembered it, but it seemed smaller as she had grown. She strode toward it with purpose, holding her breath until it hurt. The ground was nearly frozen and covered with roots, making it impossible to dig with just her fingers. She unsheathed her dagger and hacked through it steadily. The soft dirt was revealed after just a few minutes, its smell and texture comforting. Her hands worked greedily, eager to be moving again. She pushed the dirt aside, forming a small pile on the grass. After another twenty minutes, her fingers struck bronze molding. She pulled it out and dusted it lovingly with her sleeve. The leafy pattern began to shine, bringing a smile to her face. Galahad's journal. It wasn't as much a journal as letters to her. Letters she wasn't allowed to read until now, when she needed them. Emotion choked her, and a tear spilled onto the cover as clasped a hand around her necklace. She snapped it from her neck and pulled the ring from its chain. It fit perfectly into the groove. She gently pushed it in until she heard it click. She wasn't sure why, but she held her breath as the bundle of papers fell into her lap. Her heart pounded as she cut through the string and searched for the letter she needed. It was somewhat difficult, since there were so many, but she discovered it about halfway through the stack. She tucked it into her pocket and was about to return the rest when she noticed some unfamiliar script. Confused, she took it out and held it up to the light. "My dearest angel", it read. "If you are reading this, than the rebellion has begun and I am most likely dead. Most likely Galahad has limited your knowledge for your own protection. I cannot say I would do differently, for the story is a terrible one. "I cannot tell me how it breaks my heart to see you go. You are still so young, but I already see so much of your mother in you. I only wish we had more time together, and that you would have some memory of me, and your life here..." Daliah hurriedly tucked the letter away. She did not want to be seen crying, as she knew the hand this was written in. Her father's. Andante As Kor's second evening with the Dragonians descended into night, the Hybrid was so exhausted from nearly twenty-four hours of almost nonstop riding---the meager two hours of sadly-interrupted early-morning camping over twelve hours ago had done little to ease anyone's fatigue---that he did not even hear the footsteps approaching from behind him."It grows dark," Turoc's slow, unsteady voice said behind him. "That it does, when it is night," Kor agreed wearily. The healer settled down at Kor's side beside the campfire. "It is the eighth point of night. Normally we would be packing up camp now and beginning to ride, but our flight has turned everything on its head and it is now time to sleep." Kor understood what Turoc was suggesting, but was strangely too tired to draw himself up and find a place to sleep. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. "I should think our flight merely set things to right, for it is not backwards to sleep at night." Turoc grinned, displaying missing teeth in a wizened face. "Aye, you speak truth. It has been months since the people of Shinar have had the opportunity to live as men should. We have become people of the night, sleeping when others wake and waking when others rest. But now, as you say, our flight has set things to rights. And you should sleep. I can give you a measure of Valla tea after I check your wound, if you think it will be difficult for you to sleep at night after having slept at day." Kor nodded. "Ah no, I should be able to sleep without difficulty. I am not accustomed to staying up all night, as your people are. I shall rest soon, I merely wished to think a bit. These past couple of days have been... eventful." "Ah yes," Turoc said slowly. "You have met your brother, or so I hear." "And that changes everything," Kor said. "I must decide, soon, what I wish to do. I want to come to know my brother, but... I am not Dragonian, and I am not welcome here, during your people's time of trouble. The time will come, soon, for me to leave, I think." Turoc cleared his throat roughly of some obstruction. "Well, you have some time, yet, to think on these things and decide, for I wll not allow you to leave until another full day and night have passed. Speaking of which, I must tend to your wound, and those of the Fay-el and that valorous woman as well. You first, then, and then will you fetch them for me? My back is not as it used to be and searching for warriors in the woods is not easy for me anymore..." Arwen9 Jin couldn't hide his surprise. He had expected Elam, or even Layole. But Daliah?She looked as surprised as he. Jin sheathed the dagger, striding closer. "How did you manage to find me?" He saw her tucking a book away from the corner of his eye, but kept his face impassive. Curiosity rose at the sight, however. Something of special importance was bound, rather than carted about in loose scrolls. Daliah shook her head. "I was not searching for you. It seems you found me." "Oh?" Jin's eyes narrowed. "Why were you wandering here?" "Do you not trust me?" He studied her face. "Not completely." Daliah's features remained impassive, but the edge of her mouth quirked with a suppressed smile. Must have said something right. She cocked her head at him. "I have my reasons to be in the forest. None of which I need to explain to you." Jin dug his nails into his palms, but kept his temper in check. "At midnight, then?" She nodded. Spinning on her heel, she disappeared into the trees without a sound. Jin stared after her. Even Elam had not mastered that yet. When someone cleared their throat behind him, Jin whirled, bringing the dagger up. He halted it a few feet from Kor's widening eyes. "Bloody...crescent-blinded...Stars and Crescents!" He flipped the blade around, shoving it into the forearm sheath. "Kor, how did you find me?" Jin rubbed at his aching wrist, his irritation flaring. "I suppose you were not searching for me either?" Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah rubbed a tear from her eye as she walked back to the camp. But as she heard the laughter and felt the warmth, she retreated back to the shade. She felt more comfort in the cold. The wind picked up and pulled her hair back, drying any sign of emotion from her face.She longed to read the rest of the letter, yet also wished she had never begun it. It brought memories and feelings she had tried so hard to forget. Layole suddenly appeared at her side. Either he was lighter of foot than she thought, or she had become so consumed with her thoughts that she had not heard him. "Every time I look your way, you are alone." He said it simply, without judgement or question. She felt relieved, but also that there was a silent curiousity that required explanation. She decided to grant it to him. He did not ask much of her. "I never felt the need to surround myself with people. Horses are more honest, and they do not require..." "Commitment?" He finished. Daliah closed her mouth and turned away. He knew her truth though she would never admit it. Layole sighed. "Just answer me one question, and I promise to leave you alone." She nodded, giving her consent. "Why do you refuse to love? There are many in the world that are not as evil as you say. What was so terrible that you live alone?" She prepared her tongue to lie, but it refused her orders. "Every person I have ever loved has either died or left. I am so tired, my heart cannot take it." He shook his head. "You kept your end of the bargain, now I shall keep mine." He bowed slightly and moved to walk back to the camp. She bit her lip as she left, fighting the feeling that she wanted him to stay. But perhaps she was ready to risk her heart one last time. "Wait." She called softly, closing her eyes in disbelief. "Yes?" He turned, a strange look crossing his face. "You were wrong before." She took a timid step closer, afraid for the first time in many years. "I do love someone." He smiled slightly. "He is a lucky man." "I am afraid not. I fear my love would never satisfy such a heart." "Why is that?" She did not fight the tears this time, though clenched her fists until her nails cut her palms. "He is so much stronger than I in every way. I do not think even his love can overcome my faults, though I desperately hope it can." He stepped closer this time, until she could smell the horses and leather burned into his skin. "Perhaps it might." "Then I have one more confession." "What is that?" "I love you." Andante "I... um..."Kor felt somewhat unbalanced for the first time in a while. Maybe it was just that he was exhausted. Maybe it was that that demon-blasted healer had just picked free and replaced a single suture that had torn loose during the day's riding. Maybe it was that the Jin suddenly seemed so strangely ill-tempered for such a rock-calm man. Or maybe it was just that the Fay-el had nearly just taken out his eye with a knife. Whatever the reason, for a moment Kor forgot what he'd come out into the woods to say, and when he did remember a breath later, he felt less than inclined to share the message he'd been sent to pass on in a normal, business-like fashion. "Well," he said with a flippant gesture at a nearby oak, "It had been my intention to water the tree here, but then I saw you and thought it would be impolite to water your boots as well." Jin's eyes were narrowed, hardly in the mood for the Hybrid's evening antics. The Fay-el looked tired too, and more than a little distracted. "I am busy Kor, and this is rather far out into the woods to come for a piss. Now how did you find me, and what do you want?" Kor sighed. "Aquila born, remember? I followed my nose to the water, and followed the water to you. And it is not I who wants, but Turoc. He, and possibly his wicked needle, seek you," the redhead explained, rubbing ruefully at his freshly bandaged side. Jin grumbled a halfhearted curse under his breath, but seemed more irritated than concerned about the healer's plans for him. "I'd best go to him, then. Turoc is an old man, and like many old man prefers to seek his bed at the earliest possible opportunity once we make camp. If I make him wait, I'll never hear the end of it." Nodding absently, Kor stared down at the reflection of the moon wavering in the slowly moving stream. "Do you mind if I linger for a while in this little haven of yours while you are gone? I could use a few moments of quiet and solitude before I seek my own bed, and this seems as fine a spot as any." Jin, already walking away back toward the camp, turned for a moment to regard the Hybrid over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. Kor could not tell if it was distrust he saw there, irritation about being addressed yet again, or a simple reluctance to share this scenic little spot with others, but he drew back a half step at that look. "Or, I suppose I could go elsewhere," Kor said uncomfortably. Arwen9 Yet again, he had failed the First Tenet. He seemed to be doing a lot more of that. Jin sighed. "Forgive me, Kor. I should not treat you so, no matter my temperament."The Hybrid shrugged, but kept his saucy comments to himself for once. Jin turned away, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at the dark wood. "You may tarry here, if you wish. But I warn you, this far from the campfires, Derk-ra roam." He glanced back over his shoulder. "No sentry is close enough to help you. I do not wish to lose..." he hesitated, and then finished hurriedly, "...to lose a man foolishly." Kor grinned. "Even a Hybrid?" Jin held his gaze. "Especially so." He swiveled, ducking into the trees before Kor could question him further. How did that man manage to coax things out of him? He had came that close to asking him to stay. He's just a Hybrid. Jin frowned. And he was lying to himself. There was more to it than that. He hurried through the wood, shoving the clinging branches aside with reckless abandon. Once his anger cooled, mostly directed at himself, his pace slowed. The grass did not bend; the leaves did not crackle. A sentry started when he glided past the man, unheard until the last instant. Jin grinned, and then forced it under again. It helped to remind the tribe he was chieftain in more than bloodlines. The less challenges he had to deal with, the better. "A little late to be wandering, isn't it?" Jin jumped, whirling. Terran's burly form flowed out of the grass. Even in the flickering gleam of the campfires, he could see Terran's smirk. Jin scowled at him, though he couldn't see it with Jin's back to the fire. "It is unwise to sneak up on a chieftain." "It is far more unwise for the chieftain to allow it." In a battle of sharp comments, Terran would beat him every time. Jin turned away. "And you stayed up this late, just to scold me?" "No. Turoc sent me after you. It seems he thought you wouldn't listen to Kor." "I am not a child to be fetched at will," Jin growled. "You're certainly acting like one." Jin whirled on him, but Terran didn't back down. No amount of bluffing would cause that, which they both knew very well. His friend spoke again, "You have no intention of going to Turoc." "That is untrue." "It is you who is being untrue. I know you too well. That wound will turn into another battle scar, another reminder that the chieftain is invulnerable. It's not a risk you should take." "Terran, I choose what risks I wish to take." He moved closer. "Can't you take a little advice?" "No, I can't," he snapped. In the distance, the sentry of before stiffened and then relaxed again. Kor. Jin flicked Terran a glare. "I do not wish to discuss this tonight." "By morning, it won't matter." "I do not want to discuss this." Terran leaned into his face, squinting. Jin backed up, aware of footsteps coming closer. "What?" Terran shook his head. "I could have sworn your hair was uncut." And then turned on his heel and left him there, the insult ringing in his ears. Jin clenched his fists and swallowed the hot words in his mind. He saw motion out of the corner of his eye. When he turned, it was Kor, yet again, who stood there. He had almost certainly heard the insult from Terran. "What do you want now?" he snapped. Kor hesitated, for obvious reasons. Jin was too irritated to care. "What is it? Speak." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah pulled away from Layole, holding up the letter."I promised Jin I would give this to him." He nodded and let her go without complaint. She was grateful for that. Her heart was already pounding with the night of searching that lay ahead. As she neared him, Jin seemed to be speaking with Kor. She considered waiting, debating the urgency of the matter, but realized that the time was already drawing near. With a deep breath, she walked over and handed the creased paper to him. He opened it and began to read, his brow furrowing as he did. There was silence for a moment, and Kor began to look uneasy. "I should go." he muttered, already turning. "No." Daliah realized the was one of the first words she spoke to him. "Stay a moment. Now, tell me. In your upbringing, were you ever taught to track?" "Do you mean deer or hare?" "Not entirely. Did you learn of the Ugama?" Kor's eyes widened. "Are you serious? Do you know what you're suggesting?" "Yes." she smiled. "But what is life without danger now and then?" Andante "Depends on the danger," Kor quipped. "Too dangerous and life isn't life at all, it's death." Still, he smiled, and that smile grew increasingly wider as he contemplated her idea. "Then again, if one has to die, why not die in an inferno of dragon's breath?""Dragon?" Daliah asked. Kor shrugged. "Dragons, drakes, wyverns, wyrms... all words my people use to refer to the Ugama." Jin was frowning and his eyes were narrowed. "How do you propose we actually catch a Gama?" He jutted his chin at his own shoulder, then at Kor, indicating their relative bandages. Daliah shrugged. "The same way anyone does. Find her first, then proceed from there." "It's the 'from there' that concerns me," Jin pointed out. "An angry Gama is no trivial opponent. Many a skillful warrior has been snapped in half and cast aside like so much refuse, and might I remind you both that Kor and I are mending, but hardly at our full capacity?" Kor twisted his torso experimentally. "I don't think I could tangle with one now. But in a couple days, maybe... It'd hurt, but it wouldn't stop me. But as Daliah said, we have to find a Gama first, before we can try our hands at taming her." "You don't tame a Gama," Jin snapped. "You... persuade... her to do what you want. Many men have died trying. This sounds like a foolhardy plan." Kor chuckled and grinned broadly. "Which is why it's likely to work! If we survive, I'll write a song. How about that?" "Are you so eager to seek an early grave?" Jin growled. "By the Stars, you crescent-blinded maniac, your brashness is going to get you killed! And you," he hissed, rounding on Daliah, "Might I remind you that you've a child depending on you? Why rush off to get yourself killed? Surely you've a more sensible idea than this!" Daliah bit her lip a bit. "It's dangerous, yes, but it is by far the most sensible way to go about this, and I'll tell you why..." Arwen9 Jin tuned out most of Daliah's explanation, but did not interrupt. Kor needed to know the reasoning she had explained earlier. The idea of tracking and persuading a Ugama was not foreign to him. His mother had been spurred into early labor from the attack by one, in revenge for the hatchling his father had killed. He had been christened in honor of th event. Jin-El, "fiery one" in Dragonian, changed to "dragon" if you spoke the tongue of the Mara. There was a time when those of the Mara and Dragonian were one people. Jin cocked his head, listening to the conversation, before breaking into it. "Enough. Even if we knew where the Ugama lurked, none of us are in a condition worthy of that beast. Nor would I abandon my tribe just yet. Once we journey through Dike Pass and reach Crossroads, perhaps. The Guild might help us." At mention of the Guild, Daliah's brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing in obvious distrust and anger. Kor's blank expression suggested he, on the other hand, did not know of them. "The Guild?" Jin shrugged. Years of kidnapping, murder, and intrigue could not be summed up in a few sentences. "A sect of the T'Ollo, desert people, that we do not wish to cross." He smiled crookedly. "You've never been to the Mara, have you?" Kor shook his head. Jin dropped his voice into a hushed whisper. Even now, he could hear his old teacher, a bard he had apprenticed too, reminding of atmosphere. A good tale had plenty of that. "It's a vast sea of sand and rock, where the only life is a Derk-ra hungry for your flesh. Harsh wind peels the skin from your face, while the sun sears the rest of you. No water. Not for miles and miles. Do you know what they do to intruders?" "I don't think I want to know." Jin didn't pause. "They strip him, stake the unfortunate man spread-eagle on the burning sand. And place bets on which will get him first: Derk-ra or the sun." Kor's face paled. "Why..." his voice cracked. He swallowed and tried again. "Why take the tribe there then?" "Chrys, the reigning Fay-el, is my kin. The leader of the Border Guards in Eastar, Ravin, knows me and grants us passage to Ratacca Korr. Though if I told him one of mine were traitor..." he flicked a glance at Kor, leaving the threat unfinished. Not that he distrusted the Hybrid. It was the reaction he wanted to see. Kor's eyes narrowed, hands clenching into fists. "Bloody, arrogant....after all I've done, and said, my lineage--" He took a menacing step closer, and Daliah stepped between them. "Mule-brained men!" She snapped. "This is not the time to fight." She glared at Kor. "I have heard you sing and play. You have some minstrel training. There are lays from the desert, are there not?" "Aye, but--" "So use your mind for more than gutting enemies! What do they say of the Mara, and Ugama?" Before he could answer, she had whirled on Jin. "You're trying to frighten him, you crescent-blinded, Eyrie-spawned thorla." Jin flinced at the last one. The term "thorla" had been used several times in his presence, in reference to Elam. He had grown to hate it. Her expression softened, somewhat, but it didn't curb her tongue. He quickly felt like a child caught with stolen sweets. His patience only stretched so far. "Enough." She quieted, though fire still glinted in her eyes. "Bloody Ajin-sty" Kor chuckled under his breath. Spit-fire was definitely the proper term for her. Daliah didn't catch it, though her sharp glares at them both suggested she would puzzle it out later. Jin cooled his temper. With the right words from her, Layole could make him miserable for many days to come. Slipping cinnamon into his food, waking him at odd hours of the night, insisting on old traditions...Jin grimaced. Layole as an enemy would be very bad indeed. He forced a smile. "If I offended, Daliah, please forgive me. I was only testing his mettle." He flicked a glance at Kor. The Hybrid's eternal optimisim had cleared his features into that same, easy grin that seemed permanently drawn on his face. Infuriating....but reliable as the sunrise. Jin cocked his head at the distant camp. "We can speak more, later. For now, we all need our rest." She looked like she was going to argue, then turned away. Layole's distant figure must have helped matters. Jin wondered idly how long she would sleep alone, before turning back to Kor. The Hybrid had already began to head in Daliah's direction. "Kor, there is one other question." He paused, glancing quizzically over his shoulder. "What would that be?" Jin ignored the cocky retort. "Tracking the Ugama is a fine goal, but there is one thing that must be settled first. Will you be with us through the Mara? Do you wish to remain with your...captor?" Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah grew sick of the fighting and hurled a stone into the lake, upseting the sleeping fish. Men that were usually so eager for decision were now arguing like children. She knew that she was far from rational, but perhaps a sound word from her would shock them into silence.Moments passed and still they argued. She tried to figure out what might end it, despite her urge for a good fight. They needed to conserve energy for the road ahead. Insults would only aggravate the matter. Her only hope was a gentle word. She turned around, her hair falling over her right eye. "Night is falling fast. Jin, you may want to get back to your son." He could not hide the surprise in his expression. Her voice had never been that calm. She returned her gaze to the lake and crossed her arms. He should return to his son if they did not reach a decision soon, for there would not be time left. Hopefully he would realize this on his own. She did not care to explain it. Though she could not see them, she knew the men were frozen in place. Such was the power of sudden change. Yet, for once, she did not enjoy her victory. Her heart ached with the thought of subjecting these people to the trials ahead. Yes, she too knew the conflict they faced. But she knew that this was necessary in the long run. She sighed and walked back to them. "If you continue to argue, your people may not have a sunrise to wake to. Surely you have noticed that the nights are longer and the moon is fading. This is not the time for games, and I will not be a part of it. I will leave with or without you." Jin seemed confused, yet refused to admit it. "You always have the passion for an argument. Are you so imbalanced?" The question may or may not have been an insult, but she took it as one. She was too tired to look for the meaning behind it. She pulled her sword carefully from her sheath, pointing it away so that they knew it wasn't a threat. "I have already seen a country destroyed by men's folly. I will not stand to see another." Then she left them to sort out her words while she tried to rest at least a little before morning came. By the look of the sky, though, she had a long time to wait. Andante Kor cleared his throat awkwardly to clear the uncomfortable silence left in the wake of Daliah's scolding. Jin, who a moment before had been scowling in the direction in which the demon-blessed woman had stalked off, sighed heavily and turned stiffly to look over his shoulder at the redhead with a raised eyebrow."She's right, you know," Kor pointed out airily with a little wave of his hand. The Fay-el's frown deepened and flat words fell like stones from his lips. "She speaks of matters which are not her concern." Kor chuckled and clucked his tongue mildly. "Now now, Fay-el, you yourself named her Ajin-sty! You know well that she is not the sort to be confined to a traditional woman's role. Besides, woman or not, her words were wisdom, whether you want to admit it or not. Although, I'll admit, having her scold us like two little boys still clinging to our mothers' skirts was not a particularly pleasant experience." His grin suggested he didn't actually have any such discomfort about the dressing down but was, in fact, rather amused by it. "Perhaps," was all Jin said for a moment. Then, after a few seconds had passed, he added, "We should get back to the camp. But first, my question?" It was Kor's turn to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. "What question?" Then he searched his memory and grunted. "Oh right. Would I like to stay? That is a complicated question, with an even more complicated answer, but the short version is: yes. I left my people to seek out you Dragonians, and not only did I find you, but much more besides. Although I was not particularly interested in establishing contact with my father or his family or tribe, now that I've found the Shinar and Joran and my... my little sister... Well, I want to stay, if only to get to know them a little bit. But even so, it would be exceedingly foolish of me to leave the Dragonians so soon after just having found you! So family or not, I wish to travel through the Mara with you." Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders as she sat before the fire. She had not realized how frozen her hands were until it felt like they were melting over the blaze.This was the only thing she noticed, for the memory of her father's letter blocked out the rest. She could feel the hard binding beneath the cloth of her skirt. It weighed heavily on her leg. Her hand slipped into her pocket, feeling the patch of worn leather. A shiver entered her fingers and ran up her arm. She drew them away, gazing into the flames. Gaharis had once told her that there were many answers that could be found in the fire, though he had never shown her. As she watched the yellow and orange tongues dance, she could not help but wonder what they could tell her. How had her father died? Had he felt pain? Would he have loved her? She blew a misty breath into her cupped hands, rubbing them thoughtfully. It hardly seemed fair, even with the mistakes she had made in her past. Perhaps that was why she wanted so much to protect them. There was nothing that frightened her more than another fatherless child. Something brushed her shoulder, causing her to jump. She breathed a sigh of relief when Layole sat beside her. "You know better than to scare me like that. I could have cut you, you know." she whispered, worriedly stroking her knife. "I spoke to you, but you must not have heard." he looked concerned at the sight of her pale face. "What plagues your mind?" She smiled bitterly. "The same as every other night. Unanswered questions." He rubbed her still chilled hand with his own. Warmth rushed over her skin, banishing the cold. "Perhaps I can answer a few." "No." she shook her head. "Those that could are long dead." "All right. I see you are not going to make this easy, so I will tell you what I do know." He looked up at the moon, contemplating his words before turning back to her. "You are stubborn, nigh unreadable, you frighten just about every man here. You scold grown men like they were boys, and wield a sword better than most. Gloom is written in your eyes, yet you refuse to speak of it. You are rude, pushy, and secretly afraid." She bit her lip and looked away. "Yet in your heart is courage, and when you love, you love well. That is why I love you." "How do you know so much of me?" she wondered aloud, glad the dark hid the redness in her cheeks. "I have always been good at reading people." he replied. "But I cannot read why you are upset." She sighed and pulled the letter from her pocket. "I found a letter from my father, and I cannot help but feel that my fate is somehow entwined with his." Arwen9 The tribe made good time. Within seven days, the outskirts of Findor Plains was behind them; the borderland of the Mara Desert directly ahead. The only delay in their westward trek had been a small Hybrid raiding party. The twins’ careful scouting prevented the ambush, and turned the tables. It had ended with the raiding party destroyed, new weapons and supplies for the tribe, and high spirits.Jin soothed his horse absently, eyes on the expanding sea of golden dunes. From here, the outer borderland ended. Scrubby trees, the shallow pool of water, scrawny rabbits—all would vanish beneath the burning sun and sand of the true Mara. The desert had earned its name; the Mara was truly a bitter place. The gelding snorted again, tossing its head against the hold on its reins. Jin patted its sweating flank, murmuring in Old Dragonian. He preferred his stallion, but overusing the war-horse was not wise. For now, the flighty gelding would have to do. The crunch of approaching hooves made Jin look away from the dazzling sand. Kor rode a speckled gray, his eyes on the sand as well. Jin smiled at the expression on his face. A beach of hot sand was one thing; this limitless sea of barren wasteland was another. Kor had added two horses to his picket since the skirmish, from the deaths of their previous, Hybrid owners. Most of the warriors accepted him as one of their own now. None of Jin’s honor guard stirred when the Aquila’s gray came abreast of him. Kor remained silent, studying the sand. What had caused this place of death had been lost many years ago, such as the making of the janin. Legends claimed the drakes of the Rim, with their cold fire from snowy peaks, had battled with the sea dragons. When the Rim drakes won the battle, and demanded the submission of the dragons, they chose revenge instead, scorching their homeland with the flames of their own bodies. The Dragonian people had earned their name from the legend, though not of their own choosing. They had called themselves Wanderers, the Ishtar, but the Eloin had refused the name, preferring to mock them. The willingness of the dragons to die, rather than surrender to slavery, was foolishness to the Other mind. Though they had not chosen the name, the Dragonians kept it as a badge of honor. Only the old lays would still use the term Ishtar now, and few minstrels knew the Ishtar and Dragonians were the same people. Most believed it to be a reference to the Aquila, who “wandered” through the sea. The gelding jerked its head. Jin loosened his tight hold on the reins. Pondering Eloin cruelty would not change the past, and only mar the future. He didn’t want to consider them today. Their troubles would be bad enough. “Hail to the Mara, scourge of compass and guide; List to the four winds, Ware of each tribe; When mistakes are made, the water is dried.” “What lay is that?” Kor said. Jin started. He had not intended to quote it aloud. “It’s old. Ancient.” “But what’s it called? You can’t deny a man his curiosity.” Jin glanced at him. Kor’s wide smile and the twinkling good humor in his eyes perked Jin’s mood. He returned it with an easy grin. “It is legend, most of it. I learned it for the Compass Chant. There, it recites all four provinces, their differences, and their dangers. It’s accurate on those at least.” Kor shook his head. “Ah, but you still haven’t answered my question. What is it called?” The grin became a chuckle, and then a hearty laugh. It had been a long time since he could laugh, and truly mean it. “You’re a bloody stubborn man.” Jin commented. Kor shrugged. Jin nudged his gelding closer to Kor. “Some people believe the lay to be true, and try to find the Tower of Brakir, the first Dragonian Fay-el. I didn’t want you to get any ideas. It’s called Tale of Dragonfang.” “I plan to stay here, with my people.” He cocked his head. “Dragonfang?” Jin patted the hilt of his janin. “Another name for the janin. According to the lay, Brakir promised his throne to the son who could bring a gift worthy of the Dragon King, as Brakir was nicknamed. The seventh son, Avali, journeyed through the icy Rim, traveled in the burning desert, and eventually cornered a dragon in its lair.” He had Kor’s interst, even if it was a legend. “And? What gift did he return with?” He dropped his voice lower, reciting the translation with careful inflection. “He battled the great she-dragon in her lair, for so it was that a hatchling grew within her. Golden scales flecked and fell, slashing Avali until dragonblood and human were mingled atop the stone. Hours he fought her, until his sword was riven. He seized the blades of those who had tried before, notched and broken, but sharp edge remaining. She drove him from her lair, to the snowy ledge. There they battled, dragonfire roaring. Skin afire, but heart determined, Avali fought her. Dragonslayer twice over. So the name he longed to bring.” Several of Jin’s honor guard had moved closer, but not out of a sense of danger. They had the same expression in their eyes as Kor. He continued on. “Blood and burn, Avali staggered. The she-dragon howled her fury. Teeth flashing, fire burning, her jaws closed upon him. But a twist and fall, a whirl of blade and bone. Fang shattered, driving into snow and stone. Roaring her pain, her head came higher. Weak and wounded, Avali rallied. He seized the fang, searing palm with its heat, and hurled it high. Drove her tooth against her. Throat torn and blood flowing, the she-dragon screamed. By her own fang she was felled.” Jin stopped, flicking a glance at Kor again. “Of course, the Ugama is called dragon, but I do not believe it to be as the legend claims of dragons. I suspect a Ugama to be a Derk-ra of unusual size, not a creature of fire and flight." “You don’t believe in much of anything, do you?” Jin shrugged, though the remark stung. “I trust my sword, my horse, and my strength. I do not trust in things I cannot see.” He drew the janin, presenting it to Kor hilt-first. “I do know this is not regular steel, though of what I am not certain.” Kor hesitated. Jin smiled good-naturedly. “Try it yourself.” The Aquila closed his hand tentatively over the hilt, and then brought it up in a quick salute. He slashed with it lightly, the motions familiar to Jin. He was testing its balance and weight. Jin knew he would notice the same odd things as he had. Light blade, yet strong edge. It had never broken, and rarely needed honing, yet he had used it to hack through bone before. It caught light easily, gleaming yellow in the sun, silver in the moon, scarlet by a campfire, and purple with the sunset. But there was no magic to it; no mystical powers that made it anymore than what it appeared to be, an unusual sword. Kor returned the janin to him, gesturing at the small Dragonian characters on the pommel. “Is that part of the legend too?” “Perhaps.” He slid the blade back into its scabbard. “It’s just an inscription, but it sounds connected to the lay to me. Snow aflame with desert blood: Fire and ice, meld to one.” Jin shrugged. “However, it is not dragons I fear, but the Mara and its creatures.” He cocked his head at Kor. “Beware the Derk-ra.” And then nudged his gelding into a flowing trot across the sand. Nightfall would bring its own terrors. Andante Kor had the strangest, most irrational hope that one of these near-legendary "Derk-ra" would be spotted sometime soon, not so close as to be a danger, but close enough that he could at least see it. He wanted a feel for its quality of movement, the particular hue of its scales against the sun, and the set of its bones beneath those scales for the ballad he was composing in his head. Already he had thought of a handful of Dragonian terms that rhymed with "Derk-ra", and one Aquilian word---ircna or "claw"---that would work well... if Derk-ra had claws or other features that made the words Kor'd selected appropriate.However, as afternoon faded into evening, and the patrols at the edge of camp doubled, the bard was suddenly not so very sure he wanted to encounter one of these creatures. Although the men and women at the center of the camp laughed and chatted amiably, the fires had been built high to discourage the beasts from venturing near, and the other men on patrol with Kor seemed fearful in the dark, unseen but for the occasional nervous shift from one foot to the other, or fidgeting with a dagger. Kor had not been taking part on the patrols long. Only after his necessary involvement in repelling the Hybrid skirmish had the Healer begrudgingly pronounced him fit, particularly after seeing his "patient" ride, victorious like the others, back into camp with two captured horses speaking for his battle readiness. However, Kor was not technically an adult warrior in the ways of the Dragonians, and although none failed to acknowledge that he was a man and showed the first signs of one day becoming a capable fighter, most knew of his lack of experience with shitan or sword. There was some reluctance among the more traditional of Jin’s warriors to allow an un-Confirmed man serve on the patrols, and some concern among the others to allow what basically amounted to a green fighter help protect the tribe. Only Kor’s status as “outsider” was no longer an issue, and soon the other warriors had overcome their fears concerning him and he had been accepted in the patrols as necessity demanded. The Mara was a dangerous place, and the tribe needed every fighter---experienced or not---it had to keep its women, children and elderly safe. As evening deepened into night, Kor’s caution and trepidation shifted back toward a mix of fear and excitement. He really, really wanted to spot a Derk-ra, and be just close enough to it so that he could commit its features to memory. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah crossed her arms as the wind picked up, throwing bits of stinging sand into her face. But, though she'd never been this far, she was used to it. Camping under the stars for the past fifteen years had taken care of that. Now she found herself watching the horizon for something unknown. Answers, perhaps. But answers to what?She began to pace, a nervous habit. Something was coming. She could feel it. Her hand twitched, itching for her blade. The wind slowly forced her to close her eyes, so that she found herself surrounded by unbearable darkness until a sudden image flashed before her. A man was dragging a small girl down several flights of stone steps. Well, he was trying to, but she insisted on skipping, seemingly unaware of fire that was coming down outside. Daliah sensed the fear and frustration in him as he finally picked her up and carried her to the bottom. She smiled when he finally set her down. "Are we playing another game?" she asked. Inspiration took him and he nodded. "Yes. We're going to pretend we're in a battle. The enemy has us surrounded, and there is only one way out, but it won't be long before it is gone. Understand? Good. Now listen, because this part is really important. You have to make sure no one sees you, all right? You have to be very quiet, you cannot make any noise, not even a sneeze. If you do, the enemy will hear, and you lose the game." She nodded, still smiling. "Okay. I am ready." The girl did not question him when he embraced her tightly, though she could hardly breathe. She was already playing, already silent. As he sent her off, she sprinted where he pointed, to the stables. Again she did not ask why she went alone, for she trusted him and was too far into the game to say anything. Gaharis, her father's closest friend and her playmate, met her there. Without saying a word, he ran over to her and all but threw her onto his horse. Then he swung up behind her and dug his heels sharply into the ribcage. The horse flew from the building and sprang away. Home fell behind them quickly, and the girl found herself travelling farther than she had ever been. It slowly dawned upon her that this was not a game. She looked back before Gaharis could stop her, just in time to see her country erupt into flames. Daliah nearly dropped to the ground with this memory. But when she turned back to the camp, her eyes shone with tears. Arwen9 Jin paced the perimeter of the camp, content to let his two feet carry him. He wouldn't be able to rest until he had checked, and rechecked, the precautions he had taken. Elam trailed close behind him, bumping against his back when he paused unexpectedly. Some older boy had told him a story on the Derk-ra; Elam's fertile imagination had supplied the rest. Clutching his bow tightly, Elam kept a watchful, and fearful, eye on the dark night around them. Jin smiled, but didn't comment. It was unlikely Elam could hit, much less kill a Derk-ra. But if it made him feel safer, so be it. At least Elam could shoot the bow better than he could. No one had ever bothered to teach him. Not with Corin already present. A woman sobbed, breaking into a pitiful keening of grief and loss. Elam tensed. "Someone hurt?" Jin shook his head. "Listen." The woman's grief shifted higher, became a stallion's dying scream, and then rose into a sharp whistle. Soon, they couldn't hear it, but feel that eerie cry shuddering in the bones. Jin rubbed at his shoulder and turned away. "Nothing to worry about. They haven't found us yet." "The--The Derk-ra?" "Aye. But that sound...it means they're still looking. If they had found us..." "What?" Jin hesitated. "It just sounds different. You can hear them from far away sometimes. That's why they sound so close." "Oh." Jin smiled. He crouched down to eye level with him. "It's late. Why don't you go to bed now?" "I'm not tired." He insisted stubbornly. His eyes narrowed in a perfect imitation of Jin himself. "I don't want to sleep yet." "I know. But you want to be wide awake for the Border Guards, don't you? They'll probably take you to their barracks if I ask." "Border Guards?" Jin nodded. "But you have to rest if you want to stay awake tomorrow. What if you fell asleep, right when they wanted to show you something special? Like a lune." "A lune? Really?" "They have plenty of them, bigger and brighter than mine. The Guild makes them." "How?" "You'll have to ask the Border Guards tomorrow. If..." Elam hitched the bow under his arm and ran. Jin grinned at his retreating figure and straightened again. He finished his circuit of the camp alone. Crouching down by the fire, Jin yawned and checked the points, the latter out of habit. He had grown used to traveling at night; he still felt flooded with energy, but it was fading. The warmth of the small campfire helped. “Tired?” Jin glanced up and smiled. “Terran. I don’t know how you do it.” “Do what?” “Sneak up on me like that.” The man shrugged and settled beside him, staring into the flickering flames. “Ravin sent an owl an hour ago.” “They’ve spotted us already.” “Aye. Ravin plans to meet you tomorrow morning.” “Good. We’ll run out of water in a few days. Ravin knows the oasises better than I do.” “Agreed. How will he take a Hybrid in the tribe?” “Kor and Daliah are under my protection, as much mine as Elam. Ravin will not touch them.” Terran chuckled. “Oh, Ravin won’t kill him, certainly. But he’ll certainly test Kor’s skill, or try to. He loves to spar. You should know that.” Jin grimaced. It had been the only way to earn Ravin’s trust. The bruises and cuts had healed after a few days; his pride had taken the most time. He chose to change the subject. “Speaking of pests, where is Kor?” “Hmm? He was with Joran, down by the horse lines.” Terran grinned. “I think they were trying to sneak a peek at a Derk-ra.” “Foolhardy.” Terran shrugged. “Neither of them have seen one. If you plan to hunt the Ugama…” he continued, ignoring Jin’s start of surprise. “He needs practice with their smaller kin anyway. A few nips, an hour or two with Derk-ra venom coursing in his veins, and he’ll be more careful, I’m sure. It'll add to his knowledge anyway.” “And Joran?” “Joran can defend himself. And his brother. Besides, there are plenty of sentries near who have traveled the Mara before. They’ll know when the Derk-ra attack. I made sure of that.” “You planned it, didn’t you?” Terran shrugged. Jin could only shake his head. “I don’t like that cunning gleam in your eye. You’re up to something.” “I am. I’ll explain eventually.” The Derk-ra shrieked again, a grating whistle that became a woman’s scream again, this time dropping low in a rapid slide. “Ah, they’ve caught the scent.” Terran nudged his shoulder. “Go to bed. I’ll watch over Kor.” “You’ve lost your senses.” Terran laughed. “Perhaps. But that’s my choice, not yours. Quit worrying. Go to bed.” Andante "There," Joran whispered, pointing.Kor narrowed his eyes against the press of darkness, but did not see. The moon's light had been swallowed by a cloud and Joran was more accustomed to staring into the black maw of night and could make out minute changes in the layered shadows better than the bard could. "Where?" he breathed back, his eyes darting uselessly left and right. His brother did not answer, instead slipping sideways around Kor, grasping the older man's upper arm and pulling him hard backwards. Kor actually stumbled somewhat, simultaneously marveling at his little brother's unexpected strength and straining his eyes to follow a flash of blackness that slipped with naught but a soft rustle of sand across their feet. "Here," Joran said, a blend of fear and excitement in his voice. The darkness blurred toward them again, and again Joran dodged, twisting his brother around and out of the way with him. "I can't see it!" Kor growled. "It's toying with us," Joran remarked. "Testing. Here it comes again." This time, Kor heard the slide of the youth's blade out of his scabbard. A shadow converged on them again, faster this time, and Kor stumbled back away from it himself this time, pulling Joran with him. He heard the snap of fangs as it passed. "What is it? I still can't bloody see!" he hissed, reaching for his belt and pulling a Cat's Tongue torch free. Bending briefly, he struck it against the sand at his feet, igniting a spark and then the entire end of the torch. "Don't!" Joran snapped, grabbing his elder brother's wrist and trying to drive it toward the sand. "Snuff it!" His steel-gray eyes were very wide, though with terror or anticipation, Kor could not tell. "I can't see without it!" he complained, flexing his arm somewhat so that his little brother's efforts were futile. Still, the youth's wiry strength surprised him. "Where is it?" The Derk-ra was nowhere to be found, if indeed it even was a Derk-ra. Joran shook his head. "They don't like fire," he explained to his sadly ignorant brother. Kor's mouth opened into a little O of understanding. "Shall I put it out, then? I still haven't seen the demon-blasted---" There was nothing but open desert around them, but the Derk-ra leapt out of nowhere, seeming to unfold from the sand. Kor didn't see it coming, and yet was moving out of its way already, his arm raising to thrust the torch at it without him consciously thinking about it. It didn't do him much good. The beast landed in the sand a few paces from him, then leapt again. Seeing it this time, Kor stepped aside again, swinging the fire he now knew it hated toward it. But the beast didn't go for Kor so much as the torch in Kor's hand, and the bard and cat-lizard-wolf thing collapsed together to the sand as the beast's jaws closed over the torch. “Stars and crescents!” he yelled, feeling the shallow bite of the creature’s fangs as it literally tried to eat the flaming torch, and Kor’s hand with it. Sure he was about to lose his arm, he kicked out, his knee connecting with the scaled beast's middle. He felt strangely tired, and the kick felt slowed, somehow. The Derk-ra yelped, a strangely woman-like sound, but did not release the burning torch. Neither did its fangs pierce deeper into Kor’s wrist; the torch was too big for that. “What the—” Kor hissed in mixed amazement and terror, seeing fire briefly lick the sides of the creature’s long snout as, growling, it struggled to put out the flame with its mouth. He had the sudden, uncomfortable realization that the hard wood of the torch was the only thing preventing the creature’s strong jaws from closing entirely on his forearm, and that if he tried to yank his arm out, he’d end up with worse than the shallow scratches he’s earned himself already. Yet if he didn't move his arm, the flame would burn him. Another rush of fatigue washed over him and the flame faltered somewhat as the Derk-ra bore down in it more, growling musically in frustrated determination. But Cat's Tongue torches burned long and hard, and the sputtering flame continued tenaciously. "I told you they don't like fire!" Joran explained again, driving his shitan, the twin of Kor’s own, into the Derk-ra’s flank. It screamed like a woman in childbirth again, flames from the torch briefly spilling out of its mouth again, and Kor took that as a reminder that perhaps he, too, should use his weapon. With the hand that was not currently trapped beside a flaming torch between the razor-like fangs of a Derk-ra, he drew his shitan and drove it into the beast’s soft underbelly. Twisting viciously and hoping the Derk-ra's answering scream was a death cry, he pulled the blade free. He did not, however, have the opportunity to strike again, for at that moment Terran melted from the sand, shitan in each hand, and blurred toward the creature. Driving one blade into the base of the Derk-ra’s tail---causing it to release Kor’s wrist and the still feebly burning torch with a screech---he straddled the thrashing creature and drove the other blade beneath its jaw and up into its neck. And just like that, it was done. “Are you two hurt?” Terran asked, cleaning the twin blades and sheathing them smoothly as he straightened. “No, sir,” Joran replied, mimicking the blademaster’s movements somewhat less dexterously. Kor extracted his hand carefully from the lizard creature’s mouth, only now noticing the bitter scent of its breath. He scrunched his nose and flexed and unflexed his hand briefly. The burns from the torch hurt worse than the shallow punctures and scratches from the Derk-ra’s fangs, and neither looked serious. The burns might blister, maybe, but they hadn’t been near the torch for too long. “I’m fine. Tired.” He felt slightly dizzy. "Tired? I thought so..." Terran’s eyes shifted from the shallow cuts to the dead Derk-ra, then back to the two brothers. “Are you two satisfied now?” Kor took in the muscular, serpentine form of the scaled creature, noting the play of firelight over its black opal and mother-of-pearl scales, and nodded. “Yes.” He caught a strange gleam in the other man's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Are you?" "I'm more satisfied than you are." Thinking of the song he now knew how to write, Kor grinned. "I'm not so sure about that." “We’ll see if you feel the same way in a few hours,” Terran commented dryly. “Well… why don’t you come back to camp now and let the others have their bit of fun with the Derk-ra? Where there’s one, there are usually others, and I’m sure later you won’t feel up to fighting another tonight.” Confused, Kor followed the blademaster back to camp. “I don’t feel like fighting another now,” he pointed out, but Terran only sighed and murmured something about “crescent-blinded, ignorant Hybrids” in an oddly pleased voice. Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah slipped silently around the fire, watching briefly as stories were exchanged and arguments began. Then she walked back to the edge of the camp, listening for anything that might be a threat. She'd heard the Derk-ra, but it seemed to have been handled. There was no need for her to search for it.She pulled the hood of her cloak up, but it was immediately blown back. Frustrated as she was, she left it there, letting the sand coat her skin and hair. That was nothing new, but it was anything but pleasant. She kept walking, careful not to breathe it in. It had been hard enough to get a minute alone, she didn't need any attention right now. Usually she found comfort in nature, but the desert seemed stripped of even that. There was no sign of life, just endless stretches of sand. It had been beautiful in the sunset, but now that it was dark, it was cold and unforgiving. She licked her lips, grimacing when her tongue came back covered in grit. Her body grew restless, and she was tempted to lure a Derk-ra just to be able to move. Yet even she was not dumb enough for that. There was only one thing that would cure it. She stripped off everything except for her clothes, sword and dagger, then took off. Running in the sand was no easy task, but it was just what she needed. Hot blood took over her frozen fingers, leaving her exhilirated. She kicked up dust, though there was little sound. Her feet carried her effortlessly, and she soon found herself looking back to the camp. She stopped, her heart racing even though she could still see it. It was probably time to go back, she'd come far enough. She twirled her dagger around her arms as she walked back. There hadn't been any cries close by, so she wasn't in any real hurry. At the moment, she was content in watching the flash of her blade when it reflected the moonlight. The cold began to seep back through her skin, but she ignored it. She'd faced colder weather than this. Why worry about it now? Leather creaked, even though her boots had never done such a thing. She also heard an attempt at silent breathing. Her lips curled into a smile. This could be rather fun. She slowed her steps, now tossing her dagger from one hand to the other. After a moment she began to hum, fearing nothing from this person. If he wanted to attack, he would have done so already. Perhaps she would have been appropriate to confront him right away, but she was starved for excitement. Maybe she could toy with him for just a few minutes... It only took that long before it became dull. This person was easy to hear, not a challenge at all. She let her dagger drop to the ground so that she could kneel down to get it. As she did, she glanced back to catch a glimpse of the noisy culprit. The girl looked to be about thirteen, clothed in a somewhat worn, brown dress and boots. Light from the fire caught the red tint of her hair, leaving a small halo around her head. She was rubbing her arms, watching her curiously. "You might want to get to bed." Daliah called back to her. "It will be a long day tomorrow." She seemed surprised at first, then crossed her arms in defiance. It was a posture she knew all too well. There was no way she would be able to get her to go back alone. She sighed and rose to her feet. "Come, I will walk you back. Your parents will have my head if anything happens to you." The girl shook her head. "They have no idea I'm gone. I don't get caught easily. You're the first to notice." In spite of herself, Daliah found herself intrigued. "What's your name?" "Caira." "Well, Caira, why were you following me?" "You are not supposed to go anywhere alone. But I wasn't there the whole time, just when you were close enough to the camp so I could follow without you seeing me. At least, that was the idea. How did you hear me?" "I will tell you tomorrow. At the moment, we both need our rest." Arwen9 Howling and screaming, a Derk-ra's death was a noisy warning to the rest of his pack. And an annoyance when it was repeated over several hours. Jin sighed and tried to burrow deeper into his blankets. It was expected. Baiting a Derk-ra, and the thrill that followed, was not restricted to youths alone. Tomorrow, several warriors would have the brilliant scarlet or orange crests of the Derk-ra dangling from lances or braids. When another howl broke into the night, Jin sat up. He raked a hand through his hair. Elam mumbled, one hand thumping him in the ribs, before finding the edge of the blanket, and tugging it close again. Jin flicked an annoyed glance his way. "At least you can sleep," he muttered. Curling onto his side, Elam claimed the rest of the blanket. Jin shook his head and left him there. He found Layole first. His second was little help. With him distracted and searching for Daliah, their conversation was about as productive as chatting with sleeping Elam. Next was Terran. The blademaster crouched by the fire, sharpening his shitans. The tatoo on his forearm seemed alive. The dark lines writhed and coiled in the flickering light; the amber eyes gleamed with savage intent. Jin settled by his side and gestured at the tatoo. "How many did you kill?" Terran flicked him a glance. "Enough." He cocked his head. "Little late for you to be roaming, isn't it?" A round of harsh swearing punctuated his statement. Jin glanced toward the sound and then swiveled his gaze back to Terran, eyebrows arched. His friend laughed. "I see what you mean. They'll quiet down in a bit." He sheathed the shitan. "Though I remember a time when you used to do the same." Jin smiled. He bore the scars across his ribs to prove it. "And paid for it in blood." "True, but you still have the crest." He shrugged. Warmth flooded across his cheekbones. "Perhaps." Terran chuckled dryly, but didn't press him. He changed the subject lightly. "Kor and Joran finally spotted their Derk-ra. Though, I doubt the Hybrid feels too well now." Jin grimaced. Derk-ra preferred their prey alive, but unmoving. The paralyzing venom rarely killed, but the discomfort would take hours to work out of his system. "How is he?" "Don't know. I was going to check on him in a minute. Do you want me to wake Turoc?" Jin shook his head. "As you pointed out, I do know firsthand what a Derk-ra bite can feel like. I have a few herbs in my supplies. I'll check on Kor, as you want me to." Terran cocked his head. "Whatever are you talking about?" "You can't fool me." He shrugged. "He tended you before. I thought you'd want to return the favor." "I'd prefer knowing what moon-spawned idea is in your bloody skull." "You'll find out when I'm ready to share." Terran shifted, yawning absently. "Which reminds me, your honor guard needs refreshing." Jin's eyes widened. "You wouldn't." "Refresh your guard?" "Terran." He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't fret. You worry more than a woman. Go tend the Hybrid." "Terran." "Is your shoulder bothering you?" Jin blinked at the sudden shift. "What?" "I think so. I should wake Turoc to tend you." " That isn't fair." Terran held his gaze, but said nothing. Jin sighed. "Fine. But please, don't do anything...rash." "Me? Never." Jin swore under his breath, but left him there. Terran was worth than a mule sometimes. Andante Obeying the advice an annoyingly cheerful Terran had given him upon their return to camp, Kor was trying to sleep, but it wasn’t as easy as he would have thought it would be. Although his limbs were as immovable as fallen logs and he could neither open his eyes nor speak, his mind was wide awake and he couldn’t seem to dive into sleep.This disturbing inability to move frightened Kor somewhat, but infuriated him more. Terran had chuckled as he’d helped the bard take off his boots and lie down, and reassured him that it was “just the onset of Derk-ra paralysis” he was feeling and soon either he or Turoc would be by soon with a remedy that was “somewhat less pleasant than the poisoning”. Crescents take the man! Kor cursed in his mind, struggling to no avail to get his body to move. What did he meant by that? And where in the Stars is he? Terran had been gone a good five minutes already, and Kor was beginning to feel a strange heaviness descend upon his chest, making it harder and harder to draw breath every moment. He heard footsteps approaching his little bedroll by the fire and was surprised when it was Jin’s voice, and not that of Terran or Turoc, that spoke. “Kor? Awake?” Stars and Crescents, what do you think, you demon-blinded fool? The chieftain of the tribe of the Shinar obviously did not hear the ranting of the helpless Hybrid before him. “I’m going to assume that yes, you are, for I remember the first time I myself felt the Derk-ra’s venom running thick through my veins.” Well, that’s blasted interesting, Jin! Now get me Turoc or Terran and whatever Star-cursed ‘remedy’ they’ve got for me! The Hybrid felt the Jin’s hand rest for a moment at his pulse, then upon his chest. It remained there for three slow, labored breaths, and then went away. He heard the clink of glass against metal, and then Jin said lightly, “You are a healer of some variety. Perhaps you are familiar with the effects of the kurara berry?” Realizing he had no choice but to be patient, Kor considered. Kurara berry? It’s not from Aquila, but close enough that mother got it in the spring from the old hedge-woman with the blue herb baskets. Causes extreme muscle relaxation, sometimes to the point of paralysis. Dangerous, but occasionally useful in surgery. Laeri’s daughter needed it when she had to have that tumor removed from her abdomen, but mother had to give her an antidote because she stopped breathing… Jin continued to the sound of more gentle taps of glass against metal. “Derk-ra venom, I’m sure you are discovering right now, is rather like the poison of a kurara berry. I remember how within seconds after I had slain my first Derk-ra, my fingers and toes started to get a little numb and my eyelids started to droop. It was then that I noticed the long scratch on my arm, which had seemed like an almost-inconsequential wound at the time, or maybe a fine badge of my prowess as a warrior. I ignored the numbness and sudden fatigue and sat down upon the ground to claim the beast’s crest for my janin.” I would bet my very shitan that his fingers became unwieldy and he destroyed his crest. Ha! The folly of youth. Was I ever that dumb? Oh right, I’m in the same position Jin was in when he was half my age. Will I ever live this down? At least I’ll have a song to write. “Oh foolish bard, is it so hard, to slay the Derk-ra… something rhyming with ‘ra’… Fa… ga? Kurara?” Jin chuckled, almost as though he’d heard Kor’s thoughts. There was the sound of something being stirred in a metal container. “So there I was, kneeling on the ground with my hands crimson with the Derk-ra’s blood and its crest halfway removed from the scales of its hide, when suddenly my hands started to fail me. My fingers began to move very slowly, like an old man’s, and I nearly slipped and cut myself with my knife. And so I finished the task as hurriedly as I could, and started back toward the tribe.” Kor had a feeling he knew where this was going. The young Jin would encounter a brother, mentor, perhaps even Kor’s father Renji, who would scold the young warrior, warn him of the dangers of the Derk-ra, and commend him for getting the Derk-ra’s crest. And that would be Jin’s subtle way of scolding Kor. Why didn’t I think of claiming the thing’s crest for myself? Or Crescents, why didn’t Joran? Surely a boy that young would love to dangle a bit of lizard-dragon-wolf-thing from his shitan! I wonder if Jin notices that we did not bring one back? Will Joran be ashamed not to have claimed a crest? Jin’s story took an unexpected turn for the worse. “As I was heading back to camp, where I knew Turoc would be able to tend me and my brother would congratulate me for my kill, my arms and legs suddenly became very weak, and my head began to feel too heavy for my neck. I sat down upon the ground briefly to rest, but the feeling of weakness did not pass, but instead grew and grew. Soon, I was unable even to sit up, and I lay down upon the sand for two hours not five minutes from where I had slain my first Derk-ra and waited for its poison to wear off or for someone to find me. It became harder and harder to breathe, and still I could not move. Luckily, my older brother came upon me then and brought me to Turoc. It was a fortunate thing indeed, for the old wheezer---he was old then, too, and not much more gentle---knew what to do, as does any healer of the Dragonian people.” What would Turoc have done? Hmm… if I recall correctly, mother always said to monitor the breaths of a patient who is under the effects of the kurara berry for at least three hours. The poison spreads its paralysis from the extremities to the torso and finally the respiratory system, and often the patient ceases to breathe and needs to be given emergency breaths or an antidote. Blazes, what is that antidote? “Needless to say,” Jin continued, giving whatever he was making a final stir, “Since that day, although I always encourage my warriors to test their mettle against the Derk-ra, I also require them to carry a very small measure of ground calaba bean. It is a very simple remedy, easy for us to find---if we know where to look---and produce. There’s this very squat little plant, with long leaves, right? We can grind the beans or mash the tuber into a fine powder, which can then be added to a small measure of whiskey, rum, or any other spirit really. It instantly halts the effects of Derk-ra poison, which is great, but it also sends the body into immediate withdrawal, which is not so great. Know you the withdrawal effects of kurara? Withdrawing from Derk-ra venom is like that...” Oh no… Kor thought with a certain sinking feeling, and tried to stir. But his body would not obey him and he could not open his mouth to voice his protest. The stirring stopped. “So, what I have here in my hand is a dosage of fire brandy mixed with calaba bean. The stuff has a faintly nutty taste, but you won’t be able to detect it over the brandy. There’s a lot of it; you’ll be a little drunk. I’ll give you this now---” Kor felt the press of a metal cup against his lips and then a rush of liquid into his mouth. “---and in about ten seconds it should start to work its somewhat vile magic.” Kor coughed feebly at the burn of the brandy, but his body was still able to swallow, and swallow he did, lest he drown. Kor felt his toes tingle a little bit, and then his finger twitched. Jin must have noticed, because he said sympathetically, “Just remember, practically every man over the age of fifteen here has experienced the joys of the Derk-ra venom at one time or another. Except Talen, but his time will come.” Sure enough, Kor saw the flicker of one or more figures passing by the fire and heard the rueful chuckle of a couple warriors. I’ll puke in your porridge, Kor promised, but was relieved to feel a greater rush of air into his lungs as he once again caught a breath. His leg kicked out involuntarily. “Gah,” he sputtered. This time Jin chuckled. “Right…” Kor heard the other man standing up and managed to peel his eyes open. The Fay-el grimaced as the bard twitched again and he stooped to grab the end of Kor's bedroll. “I’ll just pull you over here, so you don’t accidentally throw yourself into the fire.” “Demon… blasted---” Jin laughed, depositing the Hybrid a ways away from the fire. “Don’t blame it on me! I’m not the one who got himself gnawed on by Derk-ra. And what in the name of the Stars is that?” he demanded, raising an eyebrow at Kor’s wrist when the bard one again flailed randomly. “A burn? What were you doing out there? Don’t you know that the Derk-ra hate fire?” Kor felt uncomfortably hot, and sweat broke out on his forehead. He snarled. “Didn’t know it'd… attack fire!” Jin frowned and pulled the bedroll higher on Kor’s shoulders. Kor pushed it back down, not liking the feeling of sweat against fabric, and Jin pulled it back up. “Stop it. Joran didn't tell you?” “I did!” the boy’s voice piped up suddenly, appearing from behind one of the tents on the far edge of Kor’s vision and striding toward them. He knelt beside his older brother, who shuddered in greeting, feeling a cramp rising in his middle. The blankets felt too warm but also protected his sweating body from the coolness of the desert night. Kor grudgingly accepted it; it’s what he would have done if a patient were sweating excessively, even if it was not what made him feel comfortable. “Mother said to leave you alone until you’d been given the calaba,” Joran said. He grinned. “Did you see the crest I got?” “Joran,” Jin snapped, “go back to your mother. Your brother’s not feeling well.” “Nobody ever feels well after being given the calaba,” Joran grumbled, but obeyed. As he retreated, Kor could see the scarlet crest tied about his little brother’s shitan. “Very… bright,” Kor commented. Joran cast a smile over his shoulder and disappeared behind the tents. Jin sighed heavily. “I hope you two have learned that the Derk-ra are nothing to be trifled with.” Kor drew in a long breath. “It’s well we encountered… one now, with th’ tribe close by.” This time it was a wave of nausea, and not difficulty breathing, which stopped him, and he frowned at the foul taste in his mouth. “---Better’n waiting till one… snuck up... to fight one for the first time.” “I suppose that makes a… kind of sense,” Jin admitted grudgingly. But then he pointed his janin at Kor, who merely curled miserably around his cramping middle. “Still, you should have found out everything you possibly could have about the Derk-ra before running off to fight one. I would have expected you, at least, to know about their venom, and shouldn’t there be a song somewhere that mentions their hatred of fire?” “Least we killed it,” Kor gasped. Sweat was pouring into his eyes and it only increased the misery of the muscle cramps. “Well, Terran did, in any case.” “Water?” Jin interrupted. The very notion made Kor even more nauseous, and he shook his head, then reconsidered. He knew what he’d require of a patient. “Yes.” “The two of you did well,” Jin admitted after the Hybrid had drank. “Terran would not have let Joran keep the crest if he hadn’t earned it.” Kor gasped out a chuckle around a spasm. “Terran… didn’t even see. Came… last second. Saved our hides.” “No,” Jin shook his head. “Terran would have been watching to see how you fared. Most warriors fight Derk-ra for the first time in groups of four or five and are not able to get in more than a blow or two on a Derk-ra before the beasts scratch or bite them and must be driven off by someone more skilled. That you and Joran fended one off on your own long enough to earn a crest before Terran had to step in speaks well for your potential. Fighting a Derk-ra is five parts wits, four parts evasion and only one part offensive maneuvering.” Kor curled around another cramp. “And ten blasted parts foolishness,” he added. Daliah appeared with another young woman in tow. "What in the name of the Stars happened to you?" Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Daliah tried not to laugh as Kor explained his situation. Had her first experience been any better? She remembered Gaharis alternating between scolding and laughing for days on end. That had not helped any, so she would let him be until he was well enough to take it.Caira shifted behind her, and Daliah suspected she was thinking similarly. Hopefully she would hold her tongue. The calaba's after-effects could be rather unpleasant. Even if Kor's pride was not already injured, he would anger easily. Oddly enough, she did not feel like arguing tonight. She locked eyes with Jin, and she felt he had something to tell her. Well, she had to also, and it could not be shared in front of Caira. "Caira, remember our bargain." she reminded her, sending her off to bed. The younger woman pouted and spun on her heel, walking quickly back to her own tent. Daliah knelt next to Kor, pulling a book and pouch from the folds of her dress. She set them down, motioning for Jin to sit. "I found these just outside the border." she whispered, dumping the contents onto the sand and opening her book to a page she had marked. She unwrapped a small cloth bundle, revealing a remarkably large scale. "It comes from the Ugama. Notice how the markings are similar to this one. There can be no mistake." she rocked back on her heels. "Most likely he is farther on, though. This is several weeks old." Kor reached out to touch it, and she grabbed his wrist before he could. "Careful. You have enough poison in your body already." "It would have dried by now." "Ugama poison never dries. That is what makes it so lethal. You could find one a hundred years old and still die from it. If you wish to keep it, you must wrap it in a thick cloth, like this one. Or you could choose to fashion a bit of armor, but be sure to keep your skin away from the edges, for that is where the poison lies." She held it firmly so that he could stroke the center and marvel at the markings. She did not know if he knew the old Dragonian tongue, but if he needed, she could translate it when his mind was ready. All that she had shared was likely filling his drugged mind to its capacity. She turned the scale over, scratching at a thick, black crust. "He is wounded." she noted. "Perhaps badly. He might have come up against several Derk-ra." She saw Kor flinch at the word. "Sorry. Or perhaps it was one of your kin. Chrys, perhaps?" she thought aloud, turning to Jin. He pressed his chin thoughtfully against the hilt of his dagger. "That is possible, though I doubt they would come this way." She put the scale back in its pouch, tying it shut. They had learned all they could of it at this time. Now she needed to know what Jin had learned. Arwen9 Jin hesitated, fingering the hilt of his dagger. He crouched down by both Kor and Daliah. "I have spoken to the Keeper and searched our scrolls. There is not much on the Ugama, or dragon, if you prefer. Some are are fanciful descriptions--breath of fire and broad wings--but there is more practical things mixed in with the legend."Daliah's eyes narrowed. "It is not a legend." "Perhaps." He continued, cutting off her sharp reply. "It mentioned two weak spots--between the wings or at least, up close to the neck if there are no wings. And just under the head. The only other claim, which doesn't help us at all, is that, save those spots, only dragonfang can score the Ugama hide." "Dragonfang?" Jin frowned at Daliah. "If you believe in it." Kor snorted. His words slurred slightly, thanks to the calaba. "Remember? He donna believe in anytin." Jin shrugged. "Whether I believe it or not makes no difference. I plan to hunt whatever is called the Ugama, no matter if it is an over-large Derk-ra or the dragon of legend. That should be enough." "And what will you do when you find it?" Daliah said. "What good will slaying a large Derk-ra do?" "I--" he hesitated. "I hope it is...that it will help me in some way. I do not know how yet, but at least I can hold out hope. For a little while." He shut his mouth with a snap. Blabbing didn't help either. Jin straightened again. "For now, we should sleep. As you said, Daliah, the creature is several weeks ahead of us. We must reach Crossroads and its safety before I am prepared to hunt. And you," he gestured at Kor, "Need your sleep. I doubt you will enjoy tomorrow much." Jin left them there, passing a warrior heading the other way. He smiled at that, but didn't comment. Kor might or might not notice his new "shadows" for tonight. The Hybrid woudl probably sleep quiet and undisturbed, but the men would make sure he didn't wander off in a daze, or suffer a renewal of the venom symptoms, unlikely though that may be. This time, the night was quiet. Jin wrestled a bit of the blanket from Elam and fell asleep before the boy could kick him away. -------- Jin fidgeted uneasily. Blast that man. Bloody blast that man! The tribe had formed up into proper order. They were eating a quick morning meal, on their feet and ready to leave. Jin's honor guard clustered around him, all new faces again. He had been relieved to be missing one particular face. A Hybrid in his tribe was one thing; one serving as his honor guard was quite another. Doblo's ears twitched forward and he snorted, pawing at the sand. Jin patted his neck absently, scanning the surrounding camp. Where was Terran? Before they could dare move the tribe forward, they must have the Border Guard's permission. Ravin waited out there in the dunes. Terran always accompanied him in situations like this. With his sharp mind, quick wits, and the tattoo on his arm as a clear deterrent to more violent solutions--he was invaluable. Ravin had a nasty temper and a tongue sharper than Derk-ra claws.The Border Guard leader had been a typical case in some ways, and not so in others. Like most of them, Ravin had been a street waif, willing to sell himself for five years in exchange for the food, lodging, and brief education. His skills blossomed under the training and conditioning, and he continued to sign his name. Until his fifteenth year. The first flowering of the Mara "Gift" (something Jin barely understood). A common Border Guard could have the Gift; an officer could not. He chose to have it stripped from him, and regretted it ever since. He could sense the Gift, but never seize it. Jin bit his lip and neck-reined Doblo around. If he had to, he would hunt Terran down himself. Keeping Ravin waiting was a very bad thing. He sighed in relief. Terran, astride his burly black, cantered up to him, with Kor close behind. The Hybrid's expression was quite unlike his usual cheery reaction. He squinted at the sunlight, muttering Aquila profanity under his breath without much of a pause. He gave Terran special attention. When his eyes landed on the lanky blademaster, the curses were more audible, and his eyes narrowed in obvious frustration. Sometimes his fingers danced over the shitan hilt at his side. If Kor tried it on Terran, he would regret it. Jin glanced at his friend, but Terran's face was unreadable. "Are you ready?" "Aye. I've been ready." "A delay was unavoidable. I had something that needed my attention first." His eyebrows arched. "Do you plan to stand here and chatter like old women, or meet Ravin before he feeds us to his Derk-ra pets?" Kor flinched. Jin gave Terran a steely glare. "Crescents! Do you have to keep needling him? Ravin is not Apollar; he does not keep Derk-ra." Terran shrugged. Jin turned away. "Let's go." -------- The trip did not pass comfortably. He could hear Terran's voice, though not the words. Kor seemed to be providing the pauses with a mixture of Dragonian and Aquila words not fit to be repeated in Elam's presence. "Hail, Jin of Shinar, friend of the Mara." Ravin called, materializing from the sand like a wraith. Doblo's head jerked back, snorting at the veiled stranger. His forelegs pawed at the air, but Jin brought him down again. Thankfully, both Terran and Kor had silenced abruptly. Ravin's dark eyes flicked over their small group, and then beyond them, to the waiting tribe. His brown hair, bleached lighter by the burning sun, was pulled back into a tight tail at the nape of his neck, and bound with a simple leather tie. His hawkish features and twice-broken nose was not improved by the scars he carried, including a particularly wicked gash that zigzagged from the edge of his mouth to trail across his throat. Three Derk-ra crests, varying from a vivid red to a burnt orange, dangled from the short spear he held in one hand. He gave Kor an especially intense stare, before returning his attention to Jin. "Strange friends you keep of late." "True-heart, true-blood." "Aye, his heart. But not his blood. Only an Ael Kinth." Kor hissed behind him. Jin growled one of the few words of Aquila he did know. "Silence." And then to Ravin. "Do you intend for us to bandy words while my tribe waits and the sun burns hotter?" His eyes narrowed. "Why the hurry? You brought sad news when you arrived before. Will Chrys welcome you this time?" Jin kept his face impassive. "Is that your task? To know your Fay-el's heart?" Ravin clenched his teeth, but let it pass. He jerked his hand in a silent signal, and three more Border Guards appeared, stalking across the sand. Jin flicked a glance at Layole and then tipped his head in their direction. His Second nodded once, smiled at Daliah, and then pulled his horse's head around, following after the fast-moving Border Guards. Jin returned his attention to the silent Ravin. "May we share your water?" Ravin's expression darkened. The Mara culture was strong in this regard. Any man offered hospitality could not become enemy. It forced Ravin to treat them with some measure of respect at least. Ravin studied him for a moment, fingers clenched his spear until the knuckles whitened, but he relented. With a curt "Come," the Border Guard whirled, leading the way. Andante "Come." Terran tossed the command over his shoulder at Kor, echoing the Mara border guard's word with the same terseness."I am," Kor snapped, but it took him a moment to persuade his stiff, aching body to gather the reins and give the mare a firm kick. His hands felt like claws; another spasm was building up, he could just feel it. They came every five minutes or so and lasted perhaps thirty seconds to a minute. Meanwhile, he sweated profusely until he stank, shivered like an old man, vomited up the acid of his empty stomach, and tried not to hate Terran too much. The swordmaster swiveled in his saddle. "Faster, Hybrid! It is unwise to keep Ravin waiting." Kor had worn out his store of curse words---Aquilian, Dragonian and even Eloin alike---much earlier that day, and was now coming up with new, creative combinations. "Kinth-Crescents!" The swordmaster---who had taken a very sudden, keen interest in making Kor's life miserable the instant he'd kicked the bard into groaning wakefulness that morning---glared at him until he kicked his horse into a canter. Every muscle in his body screamed and rapidly began knotting up with each jarring fall of the mare's hooves. It felt as though the hard muscles of his belly and back were trying to twist themselves into ropes or braids. The blood pounded painfully in his temples and forehead, and the back of his throat burned from vomiting so often that all there was left to vomit was stomach acid. "Kyda, Kyda, Kyda," he hissed, half curse, half prayer. Gritting his teeth, he bore it, for there was nothing else to do. Terran was not in a mood to be denied and besides, the swordmaster was right; Ravin could not be kept waiting, rude and arrogant as the man might be. But some part of him wanted to simply tell Terran and Ravin and Jin and everyone else to go to Xraj. Kor did not know why the swordmaster had taken such a sudden, intense dislike toward him, but he refused---refused---to back down. If Terran said ride faster, he'd ride faster if that's what it took to show the star-cursed man that Kor na Quatian, son of Renji na Shinar, was no weakling... no matter what Terran might think of Kor's blunder with the Derk-ra. As long as he doesn't start disrespecting Joran, I can blasted-well take anything he throws at me, the bard told himself, but the spasms in his stomach and back were stretching down into his seat and legs now, and all he really wanted to do was drop off the horse to the sand and curl up there against the sun-baked warmth until it passed. Ravin led them for approximately an hour, then finally brought them around to a rest stop of sorts. There were stones there for a campfire, but little else. Stiffly, Kor dismounted and reached immediately for his waterskin to wash the grit and acid-taste from his dry mouth. A shadow fell over him as he did so, and he sighed heavily and turned to look over his shoulder. Terran, of course. The man still sat atop his horse, and stared sternly down at Kor. Not a single hint of the strange humor the bard had spotted the evening before showed on the swordmaster's face. "The campfire pit. You will clear the sand from it, then help Ravin's men disburse water." Kor turned to stare at the circle of stones. Sure enough, it was more than halfway buried in sand. "I haven't a shovel." The swordmaster's face did not change. "That is hardly my concern. You will clear the sand, you will help with the water, and then you, along with Talen and Sharin, will join Ravin's men on sentry duty." You've got to be kidding me, Kor wanted to say, but knew better than to voice those words. Terran was definitely not kidding. "Very well," the bard growled, "Anything else?" Terran smiled ferally. "Do not forget to run through the paces with a sparring partner. Your handling of the shitan shames the Shinar and our Fay-el, and I will not stand by it. In fact, you will practice the Fundamentals before you do your sentry duty. Perhaps then, if you face another Derk-ra--" Kor flinched, the very word sending a spasm of pain through him "--you will put on a better showing. In fact... Daliah!" The woman had just dismounted from her horse and wandered over, eyebrows raised curiously. Terran nodded to Kor. "Once the Hybrid has finished with the campfire and the water, you will spar with him. His Fundamentals are poorly executed. You will work with him." Daliah gaped at him. "But... he is hardly in any condition to--" "I care not," Terran interrupted, then turned his horse's head and headed for Jin. "Blasted Stars!" Kor cursed. Then, wrapping his arms around his middle, he pulled his shitan and headed for the campfire. Better to get it done now rather than later. Kyda, I hurt. Crescents take the man! Fantasy ~life imitates art~ Though Daliah was furious with Terran, she managed to formulate a plan that would allow Kor to rest for a few minutes without sacrificing his pride. She waited anxiously for his return, hoping that he had seen a proper Dragonian spar. Most of the tribe likely moved right into the fight, without taking the old rituals into account."Sit." she commanded, crossing her legs carefully. Kor eased himself across from her, allowing himself to only wince, though she could tell he longed to do much more. She led him through the exercises, beginning with Kyda's greeting. "Arms out, palms up. Good. Now, look to the sky and repeat after me. 'Kyda, fyr lon valon a colarh. Il hota nifyr toka, tyra rode-an virca. Kyda, your face burns in the night. We fight in your honor, that you may bring us victory.'" "What crescent-blasted madness is this?" Daliah turned to Terran innocently. "I thought of all the Shinar, you would recognize the ancient Dragonian spar. You would not expect me to fight without first acknowledging Kyda? If I did, he could bring fiery rains upon us, and I suspect Jin would not be pleased when I tell him it was because you were eager to see the suffering of his protected." She stared unblinkingly into his eyes, ignoring the itch to draw her blade and show him exactly what suffering was. At this time, she would settle for his humiliation before others of his station. When he finally broke away from her gaze and walked back, she shared a victory smile with Kor. They had won for now. They finished without any other interruptions until it was time for them to spar. For that, Terran returned, seemingly eager to see blood spilled. Daliah knew there would have to be some. If she held back, it would be known, and Kor would be taunted for days on end. But he was already injured, if only she could level that... She swung her sword, parrying several blows. Kor was talented, she could see that even his condition. However, under the poison's influence, he was quickly tiring. She dug her foot into the sand, leaving it there until an attack forced her back. Her entire body dropped to the ground, where she continued to fight. She knew his technique. He would not let her up easily. Her blade crossed his arm twice, barely breaking the surface of the skin. But there was enough blood that she would not be suspected. He nicked her shoulder, and she could tell then that he knew what she was doing. Yet he was eager enough to protect her pride as she was to protect his. They kept up the show of skill for nearly half an hour until Terran grew frustrated and called them all to work. Kor helped her to her feet, watching as she pretended to test her weight on her foot before leaving, limping slightly. Of course it ached, but she did not do enough damage to be a burden to anyone. She was assigned to the tents. It was simple work, but it took her focus off of the past few days. She tossed canvas over the frame and held down the corners so that the stakes could be driven in. The rest of the tribe spoke and she listened, but contributed little. She still did not have a place here. Kor had found family, and she had love, but that did not bind her to them. She smiled at Layole, who had come to see that everything was going smoothly. He passed a flask of water around, coming to her last. She drank slowly, savoring the warm drops as they slid down her throat. He gave her a strip of blue cloth that she had seen often around the camp. She tied around her head like the others, and it soaked the sweat that would have otherwise fallen into her eyes. They had a few minutes of conversation before he had to continue to the next group, but that was enough to restore her energy for her task. They were at last allowed a break for the midday meal. She did not notice what they ate, for she ate it too quickly in her hunger. All she knew was that it tasted wonderful and quieted the hunger that clawed at her ribs. Kor sat beside her. She was surprised, as she had expected him to keep a fair distance between them. It was a welcome surprise, even as he said what she knew he would. "I need to speak with you alone." She wondered what he was going to say. That part she had not thought through. Arwen9 Jin's eyes narrowed at a point behind Ravin's shoulder. That was the third time Terran had slunk past him, this time with a small, wrapped bundle in his hands. Friend or not, the man was making him nervous. He glanced at the Border Guard and excused himself. Ravin growled something, but Jin ignored him. With a curt gesture, he ordered the other warriors to stay behind. Their sullen expressions showed their feelings about that one, but he didn't need the noise of their passing alerting Terran. And there was little concern for his safety in the midst of Mara Border Guards. The blademaster was easy to spot. His stride was fluid, swaggering slightly as his weight shifted from one foot to the other. His training attested to that. They darted between two tents, skirted a third, and passed the last remnant of tents in a few minutes. Jin stayed back, leaning past the farthest tent to watch Terran. The blademaster studied the ground for a moment, and then dragged his foot through the sand, forming a narrow circle. He stepped into the center and unwrapped the bundle. Saluting with what was now revealed as a shitan to the light, he stepped into an opening Fundamental, transitioned into several stances, and then back into a handful of Fundamentals. The pattern Jin recognize easily; testing the balance and workmanship of a new or recently adjusted weapon. But Terran already had a pair of shitans of fine work customized exactly to him, including an extra weight to the lefthand shitan to favor his style. Sand hissed softly behind him. Jin stiffened and whirled. Ravin stood there, smiling. "What?" "Your captain is very intrigued with the Hybrid, yes?" He shrugged. "I know not." Ravin's smile broadened. "You do. You won't admit it, but you do. He has arranged things quite well, I would say. I wonder what your captain has found so interesting in a scant Hybrid. Maybe I should find out." Great. "You have far more training than he. It would not be a fair fight." "Instinct is stronger than training. A trained Derk-ra is dangerous; a feral one far more so." Terran called out to someone. Ravin glanced aside. Jin followed his gaze. Kor had reappeared, Daliah at his side for a moment, before she stepped away. Kor appeared drained, putting one foot in front of the other by will power alone. And Terran, obviously, planned to either spar with him or set another Derk-ra on him after dusk. Jin shook his head. Terran he would deal with later. It was too confusing now. And more importantly, Terran was very close-mouthed on matters of this. Ravin chuckled behind him. "I think I will watch this." And probably join in after a moment Jin thought, but didn't voice it. He strode after Daliah. At least she might give him some answers. More than Terran would at the very least. Andante Hearing Terran's sadly now overly-familiar call, Kor glanced from Daliah to Terran, his expression twisted into a strange combination of snarl, grin and wince, before settling into a stern scowl. "A moment, Bladesmaster," he murmured, striving at once for politeness and firmness. "The lady and I were about to have a word."Terran grunted. "There's time enough to fawn over women once you've done your duties. Every man of the Shinar must pull his weight. You---" and he pointed a shitan at Kor "---still have duties to see to." A muscle clenched involuntarily in Kor's jaw. He was not gritting his teeth; instead, another spasm was coming on. "Very well." He tossed the words like offerings of appeasement at Terran's feet; right now, as little talking as possible was the easiest course. It was far easier to comply than to argue, and far easier to stay silent than attempt to speak through a spasm. He dipped in a bow toward Daliah, but was so stiff it was barely more than a nod. "Later then, Daliah. I'll seek you before I find my rest." If that Demon-blasted kinth permits me to rest tonight, he finished silently. Terran nodded, and pushed past Kor and Daliah, who both gave him dirty looks behind his back. Then Daliah cast Kor a sympathetic glance, and hurried off. The Hybrid sighed heavily, wrapped his arms about himself, and uttering a fluent string of curses, strode off to find Talen and Sharin. ****** Layole frowned, but gave Daliah's shoulders a small, reassuring squeeze. "Terran can be a... harsh taskmaster. But he usually means well." Daliah's eyes narrowed. "This is more than being a harsh taskmaster, he's---" Jin appeared at her shoulder in the sudden, silent way that was his habit. Both Layole and Daliah jumped. The weight of the Fay-el's attention fell upon Daliah. "I'd like to have a word with you," he said. Her eyes gazed off in the darkness where Kor'd gone. "It seems many people desire my time this evening. What is it?" ****** To say that the other two warriors were surprised to see Kor was an understatement. They weren’t merely surprised; they were more than a little dismayed. “Oh no.” Talen shook his head, hard, upon Kor’s arrival. “Terran has to be out of his mind. Hybrid, you are hardly fit---” Sharin added his own estimation of the situation. “No offense, Hybrid, you’ve shown well enough. But whether slowed by a Derk-ra’s venom or sickened by its ‘remedy’, a man has no business hunting Derk-ra just after having tangled with one for the first time. Go back. We’ll talk to Terran.” Talen stared at his companion. “Oh we will, will we? Speak for yourself, cousin. If you want to match wills with Terran, you may, but I’m not going to attempt it.” Kor spread his arms wearily, shitan already clutched in his hand. “Then we are at an impasse, I’m afraid. I myself admit it feels like folly for me to be here, but we must trust in Terran’s wisdom, is it not so?” The cousins grumbled. “Yes, it is so,” Talen admitted. “Though what in the Star’s name Terran is doing in his wisdom, I’d like to know! I know you and I haven’t always gotten along well, Hybrid, but as Sharin said, you’ve shown well enough and Joran likes you, so I don’t wish ill on you. But… well, I don’t know what you did to get on Terran’s bad side, but he has it out for you!” Kor sighed. “Well, perhaps he does, and perhaps not. But pondering that question will not help us spot any Derk-ra that may lurk about the camp. So we’d best see to our duty.” The two warriors merely stared at him. He pointed to the left. “I’ll go that way.” Still they watched him. “Ah… as soon as my leg stops spasming.” For a moment they continued staring at him, and then Sharin laughed brusquely. “If you survive this night, it’ll be worth writing songs about.” Kor chuckled too, but that chuckle was strained with pain. Attempting to so much as move his of his right leg hurt almost as though the muscles in his calf were tearing in twain. “Yes,” he gritted out, “and I shall write the song!” The two warriors chuckled again as they left him, then abruptly lapsed into the silence of sentries. Kor clenched his jaw, holding his shitan in a white-knuckled grasp, and waited impatiently for the spasm to pass. “Cursed Kyda. Starry kinth demon spawn. Crescents. Crescents!” Gradually, over the course of a long minute of cursing, the spasm wore off, leaving in its wake naught but a tired ache and shaky weakness. Hissing, Kor stalked through the sand, tracing a slowly widening perimeter around the camp. This time, his torch was not lit. Off in the distance he heard the screech of a Derk-ra, followed by Talen and Sharin’s laughter. He needn’t fear for those mens’ lives; they’d doubtless fought many scores of Derk-ra since their adolescence, and judging from the death-scream that quickly followed the laughter, they’d proved easily victorious against the first Derk-ra to be spotted that night. There was a soft rustle of scale against sand to his right. Kor dropped into a crouch, practically smelling the rush of adrenaline through his own veins, and his eyes darted to and fro in the darkness. There was nothing. Nothing he could see, in any case. Every muscle was tense with fear and he actually felt slightly faint and clammy. Sweat poured down him in rivulets, and only some of it was from the calaba. His breath echoed hoarsely in his ears, so loud he feared he would not be able to hear the approach of a Derk-ra should one choose that moment to come to him. I can’t do this, Kor realized. I can’t stand out here, pissing myself in terror while waiting for one to sneak up on me. Where’s that torch? Hand shaking badly, he reached for his belt, pulling free the small Cat’s Tongue torch he’d claimed from the women who’d started the campfire after he dug it out for them. He lifted it high above his head, then froze and let out a low groan; a spasm was mounting his back, beginning with the muscles alongside his spine and spreading over his torso. It felt like his ribs were pulling apart. Slowly, he lowered his arm, and remaining in a low crouch in the sand, panted and cursed his way through the pain, all the while praying to Kyda that the Derk-ra would not come upon him then. A few moments passed, and then the convulsion melted away from him like water. Again, he heard that silky glide of scales over sand, and before another spasm could rise again, he struck the torch hard against the ground. The flame flared up with a loud hiss. Kor tossed it as far away from himself as he could, then slowly crept backwards away from the circle of its light. As he did so, a stalking shape leapt up from the sand, wailing out it’s strangely feminine scream, and landed upon the small flame. Scales glinting in the warm torchlight, the Derk-ra thrust its head down at the torch, snuffing the light with one snap of its jaws. Kor threw his shitan, flipping his wrist harshly at the end so that the point of the curved blade would find the Derk-ra’s hide. The scream of pain confirmed his hit, and he launched himself up from his crouch and straight toward the Derk-ra, weaponless, relying on the slither of shadow against shadow to tell him where precisely it was now. Then he was upon it, one hand somehow finding a firm handhold in its crest, the other seeking his shitan in its hide. The beast was a good deal stronger than him, and having eliminated the annoyance of the fire, she now turned to confront this new threat. Feeling the small mammal’s grasp upon her crest, she wrenched her head around, snapping at the offending forearm. Kor hissed in pain, feeling those teeth graze him, but pulled his arm away from the crest by instinct the instant the slightest feeling of sharpness and moisture touched his arm. The strong jaws snapped shut a few inches from where his arm had a moment before been, and at that moment his other arm, flailing for purchase as the thrashing beast unbalanced him, came into contact with his shitan. Growling, he tore it viciously free of the beast’s hide, twisting to ensure that the weapon’s exit would cause as much damage as it could, and was greeted with another scream. Then, remembering Terran’s killing blow the night before, Kor thrust his shitan upwards, driving it into the Derk-ra’s throat just beneath the jaw and upwards into the beast’s brain. It fell limp at his feet without a sound. He heard two sets of racing footfalls coming toward him from the left. “Kor!” Sharin’s voice called out. There was another sound, closer. Kor flung his shitan at it before he could think and saw the blade glint briefly in the moonlight before hearing the sound of metal clanging against metal. Then there was a low chuckle, and the hiss of a torch being lit. Kor found himself staring into the grinning face of Ravin. "Interesting," the Border Guard commented, sheathing his twin shitans. "An... innovative victory, to say the least." His eyes traced a path from the fallen Derk-ra to Kor and noted the new, long scratch on the Hybrid’s forearm. The smile widened. "Although... I do suspect you'll come to regret your moment of triumph come morning. You'll find that a Derk-ra's poison can be a... somewhat less-than-satisfactory award for your efforts." Kor knelt beside the Derk-ra corpse and began sawing at the crest. It parted more easily than he thought it would. "I know the effects of Derk-ra venom all too well," he sighed, cleaning and sheathing his shitan. "In fact, just last night I experienced it for the first time." Ravin raised an eyebrow. "As I said, interesting. And your Fay-el's captain put you up to this madness, I suppose?" Kor did not frown or grimace or show any other hint of his present distaste for Terran. Who knew if the two warriors were friends? "Terran reminded me to see to my duty," he responded simply. Then, more tersely than he intended--- "I have." "Very interesting indeed, I do say," Ravin positively drawled, that strange wide grin still upon his face. "Well... you'll be relieved to discover that a Derk-ra's venom is nowhere near as harsh the second time. Doubtless, you won't need the calaba this time." "Great," Kor snapped, but a small flame of relief kindled in him. "Which means perhaps tomorrow I can answer my own questions about you," the Border Guard responded. The small flame went out. “Great,” Kor said again, with even less enthusiasm. Even worse, he felt another spasm building. “Good evening, Hybrid!” the Border Guard said cheerfully, starting back toward the camp. “Evening,” Kor grunted, then sat abruptly upon the sand, hissing and waiting for the spasm to finish building to he could go about the process of waiting for it to diminish. That was how Talen and Sharin found him a few seconds later. “Are you hurt?” Talen demanded, kneeling before the Hybrid where he sat in the Derk-ra’s blood. “No,” Kor said. “Yes. I don’t know.” Strangely enough, just before the spasm would have peaked, it suddenly eased off. “Huh,” he murmured. Talen grasped Kor’s forearm. “Hybrid, you got scratched.” “Yes,” Kor said morosely. He waited for it. It came. Talen and Sharin began to chuckle. Talen actually thumped Kor heartily on the back. “Well, you killed it, at least! Hybrid… you are a madman.” Sharin shook his head at his cousin, still laughing. “No, it’s not Kor who’s the madman, it’s Terran. Whatever made the man decide to throw Kor at two Derk-ra in two nights is beyond me. But at least he gets a reprieve from the calaba for his trouble. And look, he got his crest!” “And immunity to the venom!” Talen was saying, but Kor was beginning to feel extremely drowsy and somewhat drunk, and could hardly be bothered to be interested in the conversation. “But still… what is Terran thinking?” “You two!” the voice of the man in question snapped out of nowhere. Talen and Sharin leapt to their feet. Kor, feeling an immensely soothing relaxation settle gradually over his limbs, didn’t bother. For once, he wasn’t being given an order, and even if he had been, he didn’t have any particular interest in obeying right now. All he wanted to do was seek his bed. Terran looked down at Kor. “Let me see that.” His head tilted to the crest in Kor’s hand. Shrugging, the Hybrid handed it to him. It was bright orange, like the setting sun. “You fought it a |
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