[Southern Border Post] Forging the Faith (Kavala)

[Gillar]

Responding to Kavala's comment regarding Izurdin and his gifts, "Izurdin graced us with our arms out of love but his other gifts indeed come only to those who prove they are capable of handling them. As for Istaris, there is indeed more to that story, perhaps to be shared a bit later."

When Kavala spoke of the fragility of humans both mental and physical, Emaneus could not dispute anything she said. The history of his people was wrought with examples of the influence human flaw has had on the world. When she spoke of how the zith were also a threat to her own home, Emaneus took note and told himself he would try and help Kavala with some manner of defense against the beasts.

Kavala's questioning comments about the lack of sunlight in the area caught Emaneus somewhat by surprise. "I guess I've never really thought much about it. We are in the foothills and thus covered by the shadows of the surrounding mountains for an extended time. So yes, you could say altitude does play a role in it. Syna's touch lasts for quite some time at my clan citadel. It's built atop one of the taller peaks in the region and the perspective is hard to put words to." When Kavala followed up with mention of the pillars, Emaneus was quiet for a moment before speaking.

"The pillars are monuments. You see, when my people traveled here during the fallout from the Valterrian, things were far darker and more dangerous than they are now. A scouting party made there way up here while searching for a refuge from the terror that surrounded us all. It was one of those terrors that they discovered instead. There was a great battle in this very clearing. Twelve of the thirteen scouts fell in battle before the terror was defeated. Their sacrifice allowed our people to continue forth in their quest for sanctuary. The pillars were erected to remember those who fell and the hut was constructed in the center as a symbol of the scouts battle to protect the people.

As they worked to prepare the hut for an overnight stay, Emaneus smiled as Kavala praised the lands that he called his home. "Kavala, as wondrous as you view my home to be, would it surprise you to know that I feel the same of where you come from. In the rolling hills and grasslands, nothing is hidden. Everything is open to everything else. To be surrounded by stars is to be surrounded by the sparks left over from the Father's forging of the world."

When Kavala offered to help Emaneus with starting a fire, he first asked for a few pieces of firewood followed by gesturing to a small shelf just above the stack of wood. On the shelf was a small clay bowl. Though made from clay, the bowls form and shape were flawless and it held an almost mirror-like finish though no outside pigmentation seemed to have been used. The inner lip of the bowl was etched with a ring of tiny hammers. The contents of the bowl were far strangers. A pile of perfectly cubed pieces of obsidian, each roughly twice the size of the average gaming die were held in the bowl. Nodding to Kavala to toss him one, she would find the cube to be cool to the touch and other than its odd shape, unremarkable.

"A simple token of efficiency..." Emaneus muttered as he held the cube in the palm of his sapphire hand. He then leaned in closer to the fireplace and brought the cube close to his face. He then took a deep breath and slowly blew on the cube. As his breath contacted the surface of the cube, the stone began to glow red hot and instantly transformed into a shower of tiny burning coals that expanded forth into the fireplace and onto the wood. The wood ignited and a small but growing fire began.

At the mention of food, Emaneus realized just how hungry he was. He considered Kavala's offer to prepare anything he may be able to catch as well as ready any extras. "That sounds like a marvelous idea. I'm a little rusty when it comes to hunting but I may be able to manage something. As for the rest, this place is used by patrols who pass through the area. They've planted a few things nearby to help supplement their rations." When their things were unpacked and the hut was readied for the coming night, Emaneus walked outside. He was serious when he said he was rusty at hunting. Although he made occasional trips throughout the Kingdom for religious matters, he had little need to hunt on his own since Istaris was more than capable of acquiring enough food for both of them. For the moment though, he did not have the ixam with him as she was off doing her own thing. Having found a shortbow under one of the cots along with a small quiver of arrows, Emaneus left for a short hunt.

For a brief time, Kavala was left on her own. Around the clearing as well as a short distance into the surrounding forest, she would be able to gather all manner of herbs to add to dinner. Although Syna's grip on the sky was soon to be released, there was still enough light to see by. Despite being alone in the middle of a strange mountain forest, the feeling Kavala got from the area was one of security. The only somewhat startling thing was when Kavala had just finished gathering several handfuls of berries and turned around to be greeted by the massive form of Istaris looking quizzically at her. The ixam tilted her head and stared at Kavala for several moments before slowly lumbering off.

Just before nightfall, Emaneus returned with a couple of mountain hares. "Their worthless as survival food but they will make a tasty stew." It was Emaneus turn to then offer aid with dinner.

During the preparation of dinner, Emaneus asked Kavala, "Kavala, I mentioned there being more to the story of Istaris. She is far more than just a gift from Izurdin. The Divine Father revealed to me her true nature soon after gifting her egg to me. I am telling you this because of your link with the Dreaming God. See, Istaris and I knew each other in a past life in quite differing forms. Although Izurdin did not tell me how we knew each other or what form our past lives took, he did say we were close and that we died together for a good cause. He said he felt it was only right that we were brought together once more in this life. While neither her or I know the entire story, we both feel the truth of it; a truth enhanced by our divine connection." Emaneus paused to finish cleaning one of the rabbits. After a few well placed slices of his dagger, he pulled the fur and skin from the animal with a quick, powerful tug.

Dinner was ready just after sunset. The sounds of the night filled the air and could be heard from inside the hut; insects mostly though punctuated by the howling of wolves. The fire burned strong, filling the hut with a pleasant warmth. The night grew deeper as the two enjoyed a simple yet nice dinner. Although Emaneus had made this same trip a number of times in the past, this one was different for him. Sitting in the hut with an outsider, a Konti even, enjoying dinner while traveling to one of his people's most sacred sites was not as awkward as he originally imagined it to be. The Father had told him this day would come and he would know when it arrived but it was no less unusual.

It was just as dinner was winding down when Kavala noticed Emaneus noticeably cringe for the briefest of moments. She then saw him rubbing a finger on his left hand, the same finger where he wore an Alarm Ring. With a heavy sigh, he calmly said, "It appears we have unwanted guests showing up late for dinner." With that he slowly stood, moved to stand just to the side of one of the windows and glanced outside.

[Kavala]

Kavala was finding spending time with Emaneus was both educational and entertaining. He had a lot to say in his quiet way, and most of it was enlightening to her. She didn’t press him for information on Istaris, though the thought was fascinating and she did want to know more. But the conversation moved onward and she flowed with it, letting her thoughts trail forward.

Emaneus completely distracted her when he spoke of the pillars and the true origin of where they were staying for the night. She found it intriguing that the Isur honored their fallen this way and in doing so provided safety and shelter to those who followed whereas they couldn’t to those that had fell. The scouting party’s legacy lived on. And Kavala commented in that regard.

“Your people do this beautifully. I can’t think of anything more noble than to honor the scouting party’s fall this way, providing shelter to those that came after them where they could not. My people would have sang songs about them or retold their story, but in the end stories will not protect or provide shelter. This does. And everyone who comes here will think of them.” Kavala commented, having paused at each pillar when she was on the outside, quietly thinking of the fallen. It was, in its own way, so much more practical.

Later, Emaneus’ words made her smile. “Yes, there is nothing quite like the stars of home. Here I feel safe, sheltered, and out there I feel the world wide and huge around me going on for miles. Both places are equally dangerous. And the Sea of Grass, like the mountains, takes a special set of skills to survive in it. I wonder, now, how I will feel when I stare up in the night sky. I used to think of Zintila and her sacrifice during the Valterrian to heal Semelle. Family should always be thus to one another if possible. But now, I wonder if when the night winds blow the clouds away and I see the stars like they are there…. as many as grains of sand on the beach… if I won’t think of Izurdin and know too how much of a hand he had in making the world and its people. The Sea of Grass is lacking many things, including metal, so not often do we see the sight of a forge fire burning and sparks arching off of it. I saw your people worship, lingering at the doorway of the temple like an outsider, and at first I didn’t understand what I saw. But as I watched, it made itself known… almost like a language one could not read rearranging itself in terms of its letters into an order that made sense… your men and women standing at the forge honoring their creator by creating. I wish the outside world knew more of the Kingdom here. Your simple day to day things would be lessons to them on how folk should behave. In the east, to honor gods we often leave flowers and food at the base of their statues. It seems a little empty now, a little too easy.” The Konti commented, shaking her head and knowing she would return from The Southern Boarder Post a changed person.

Kavala had a good chance to look at the fire cubes, noting the mark of Izentor on the cubes and bowl. She recognized the Izentor in the makings of them, and that they had reimancy woven through them, but what she didn’t understand is how the reinmancy seemed to be locked into the cube. She’d asked about them later when the meal was done and the day had turned to night.

Emaneus went out hunting while Kavala gathered herbs for a stew. She took only the ones she recognized. There was a bit of mountain sage, rosemary, and some thyme. She also found a great balsam arrow leaf plant that’s root enhanced food tastes. Kavala had them all cleaned and gently started in a pot with some other greens that could be baked as well as some wild potatoes she’d dug up, only awaiting the meat. When Emaneus showed up with the meat, Kavala made quick work of stripping the carcasses and adding the findings to the pot. The stew was well on its way to bubbling.

She was more than delighted when he got back to the story of Istaris. She listened quietly and then slowly nodded. “I suspected as much. People move through life together, Emaneus. We repeated life after life at times, always staying near loved ones and souls we connect with. I think those lonely individuals that feel as though they never fit into their cultures are born apart from their sect and that’s what they are truly feeling, not a rejection of the society they are in. You meet people, instantly like them, and sometimes feel like you owe them or they feel like they owe you. It is the same thing. When you can delve into someone’s chavi, you can always find the connections, even if you have to go back a ways. I do not, on principle of privacy, but if requested I can find your connection and what she was to you and you to her in the last life or lives before. I suspect though if Izurdin granted you her, then she perhaps owed you a big debt for something you saw her through in her last life. It could even be that her love for you was so great she did not want to leave you alone in this one even though for some reason she could not be an Isur.” Kavala said, leaving the offer on the table to look for him if he so desired.

They ate, contented, chatting more about Dreamwalking, interconnections, and how life lessons tended to repeat themselves over and over again. Kavala startled when she saw Emaneus rub his finger and comment. “Istaris will need defending.” The Konti said, rising immediately and securing her night armor back on. She checked her weapons and then paused. “I carefully checked out the layout of the clearing. Not only do the pillars offer honor to those fallen, but they are good cover from Zith attack. Do you know how many are out there? I have my crossbow. That’s decidedly helpful in a skyfight.” The Konti said, calmly moving and checking her bolts. She cocked the crossbow, made sure her daggers were in hand, and then slipped out the door to dart across the space to the nearest pillar. If nothing else, her move would give Emaneus a chance to see the zith a bit distracted and perhaps give a headcount.

[Gillar]

During their dinner conversation, Emaneus' attention was quickly peaked by Kavala's talk of chavi and her ability to see into one's past incarnations of life. At her offer, he took a few moments to ponder the possibilities. Izurdin had blessed him with Istaris though never revealed the true nature of the bond that Emaneus shared with the ixam. As a priest, Emaneus' ties to Izurdin were such that he could claim the God as a close friend. The two spoke often, sometimes in person though usually through a unique form of communion exercised during the act of working the forge. Emaneus had asked Izurdin on more than one occasion about Istaris and the bond. Each time, Izurdin, with unwavering patience, told him that the time would come when the answer to his question would be forged in the footsteps of history. It wasn't until Kavala offered to help him find his answer that he began to realize the importance of the journey they now made together.

Responding to Kavala, Emaneus said, "Kavala, again you surprise me with your strange though not unwelcome generosity. I would be forever honored to accept your offer. Tomorrow, you shall stand in the footsteps of the King. After that, I hope to be ready for the grand journey you have offered to take me on."

When the sudden jolt stung the finger baring the alarm ring, Emaneus looked more resolved than concerned as if he had been expecting something to detract from such a rare moment. Noting Kavala's keen attention and concern as her eyes glanced down at him rubbing his finger, he maintained his calm as he stood and looked through the window while Kavala moved to gather her gear. "Worry not for Istaris, there is little in these hills to threaten her. We however best be prepared." He spoke matter-of-factly and without fear. If anything, Kavala would hear a steadiness, strength and patience in his voice as powerful as any fearful emotion she had ever saw or felt herself.

At Kavala's mention of the pillars making for good cover, he hadn't considered such a thing before. He was no tactician; competent in his skills to survive on his own in the Unforgiving for short time, he wasn't especially trained in strategy and tactical outlooks on battle. He did however consider Kavala's crossbow as an advantage battling zith but he wasn't sure how well she could see in the darkness outside to make it truly effective. "I don't know how many there are. From past experiences though, they usually hunt in groups of three to five, depending on how well they know their prey." As Kavala cocked her crossbow and checked her daggers, Emaneus added, "You've dealt with zith back home but those that dwell here are different; bigger, stronger and if possibly, more brutal." Kavala's quick moves to action caught Emaneus a little off guard. She showed little signs of actual fear but there was a bit of impatience to her actions that gave a bit of concern to the priest. As much as they had in common, there was still some things that remained quite different between the two.

As Kavala slipped out the door, Emaneus did not move to stop her. Although he was concerned for the seemingly delicate, fragile young girl as she darted across the clearing to the nearest pillar while an unknown number of zith were hiding in the darkness, he couldn't help but smile a little to himself in realization. In her impatient jump to action, Kavala would most certainly gain the attention of any zith within line of sight. This would give Emaneus a chance to maybe gauge how many zith were out there and perhaps present a better plan of attack.

Kavala reached a nearby pillar with little trouble. While the skies were clear and Leth was shining his light in full upon the land, the surrounding forest was impenetrably dark. The clearing offered some small amount of light to make it to the forest floor but looking into the woods, Kavala could see nothing. The sounds of the night that she could hear even when inside the hut were not silent though they were severely muffled. It didn't take an auristic to sense that things were not right. Kavala could almost physically feel herself being watched from the darkness of the forest.

Back inside the hut, Emaneus continued watching through the window. When Kavala ran across the clearing, he saw movement in the trees. It was slight though obviously not the product of a bit of wind or an owl. It was the movements of something large. He noticed two distinct areas of movement in the trees immediately in front of the pillar Kavala had ran to. Born with the ability to see in total darkness, Emaneus focused on the areas of movement in the trees and spotted two large forms perched on two different branches. In his peripheral, he also caught a brief glimpse of a large winged form gliding overhead as it crossed the sky above the clearing before vanishing further into the trees. There were at least three zith by his count but there could be more that he hadn't noticed yet. Focusing on the zith he knew were there, Emaneus chose to finally prepare himself for fight he knew was to come. Shedding all but his trousers and boots, Emaneus wanted the maximum freedom of movement. The only other thing he wore besides the alarm ring was a silver armband just above his sapphire bicep. The band was polished to such a finish that the tiny bits of moonlight that slipped past the open window into the hut caused it to gleam with what looked like, in the hanging darkness, a soft inner light.

With the door still ajar, Emaneus moved away from the window to stand so that he could exit the hut with great haste when the time was right. He had made enough journeys outside the Post to know a bit about how best to deal with a few zith. He only hoped that there weren't too many more out there beyond the three he had saw. As he looked on through the doorway, he could see one of the zith begin to shuffle along the large branch it was perched on. It seemed to be trying to get into a closer position near Kavala. Although they were not all that far from one another, perhaps twenty feet at most, Emaneus was unsure as to how to inform Kavala of how many zith he saw and of their position without giving himself away. Of course, they probably already knew he was there but their attention, at least from what little he could see, was on Kavala.

A terrible wait descended upon the clearing. The zith remained in the trees, two of them near Kavala while the third remained somewhere out of sight. If there were more, they remained hidden. Kavala was poised behind one of the pillars while Emaneus stood ready just inside the open door of the hut. The tension caused silence in and around the clearing. When Emaneus felt that the time was up for waiting, he stepped out of the hut and walked quickly to stand roughly half way between the hut and Kavala. He could see the two zith turn their heads toward him. Quietly, he said to Kavala, "Two just ahead in the trees. Third, maybe more out of sight. They will strike at any moment using hit and run. When I signal, close your eyes for but a moment and then open them while being ready to use your crossbow." It was Kavala's turn to notice the zith's presence as the nearest two took to the air. She could hear the movement in the trees and in the dim moonlight see the flapping of wings. She knew of the zith's tactics of hit and run from back home. The zith would circle overhead and dive upon their prey, snatching it up and climbing back into the air. If the target was too big, they would perform "flybys" with scratching and biting meant to weaken the opponent.

Emaneus saw the zith take to the sky and raised his sapphire fist. Tapping into the band around his arm as if it were an extension of his body; as an item created through the use of the third mark of Izentor, it literally was, Emaneus called upon the part of his soul contained within. The armband answered with the part of Emaneus soul that embraced his love of the forge and divine embrace that he felt while smithing. The silver veins of his sapphire arm began to glow with the same gleam of the armband. "Kavala! Now!" One second after calling out to Kavala, the veins of light streaking up Emaneus arm focused at his fist and a brilliant, white hot light exploded forth, filling the entire clearing with a light seemingly brighter than Syna at the peak of the day. When Kavala opened her eyes, she could see that the explosion lasted but the briefest of moments but left a dim glow centered around the clearing. She also saw a total of five stunned and blinded zith struggling to maintain flight roughly 25-30 feet above. They were unlike any zith Kavala had seen near Riverfall. These zith were bigger and covered in thicker coats of gray and black fur that looked like the perfect camouflage for a rock, mountainous environment. All five were in various states of trying to shield their eyes while looking like they were also in pain. The strange glow in the area, though dim, resembled the glow inside a smithy and provided Kavala with more than enough to see by.

[Kavala]

Zith were probably the most frequent pest in and around Riverfall. Kavala was used to them and more importantly used to changing the world around herself to be able to deal with them in the dark. She wasn't without recourse for her morphing lessons had helped her adjust her vision to a number of different things. She knew Akalak eye structure, for example, and had long since mastered infravision for dark situation like this. She also knew the forms of owls and similar birds of prey.

Darkness didn't bother her. She moved through it, lived in it, and grew up not fearing it. The Drykas blood in her was strong. So was the ability to adapt as situations merited it. Kavala concentrated, tapped into her djed, and flooded her eyes with power. Slowly, within all the terrible waiting while enemies outside of their view sized them up, Kavala transformed her eyes. She restructured them after the Akalak's pattern, adding the additional lid and complex structure beneath that translated body heat into a sort of vision that left afterimages everywhere. Within moments she could see as well as the predators staring down at them. She leaned out peering behind the pillar towards where the sound was, her new vision outlining the Zith in an angry orange glow in the muted blue background of the night. There were other animals too, further out, and a third zith in the sky.

Kavala gripped her crossbow, brought it up, and prepared to track the one circling above. She poised her crossbow, aimed, and lead the target. She squeezed gently just as Emaneus started to speak. The bolt flew wide, crossing the Zith's path too soon as she took in the information the priest passed to her. It gave her enough time to close her eyes and duck way as he signaled.

She groped awkwardly for a bolt, pulled it from the quiver slung across her back, and fitted it into the slot. Loading the crossbow by feel was something she'd practiced. It was not something she'd practiced THAT much. She relied on it for a ranged weapon, but if the Zith got close, she'd drop it and rely on her own means as well. Means being Reimancy.

Kavala was slow... so when Emaneus thought she'd attack, she wasn't quite ready. It took her another breath to cock the bow, raise, and fire. She tracked the motion of the zith and released, hoping the bolt struck home. If it did not, she'd be prepared to attack again, this time with power.

"I should tell you I can see in this mess..." She said, whispering to Emaneus, as she yet again tried to load the crossbow before the Zith attacked. The warning came too late as the light went off, but Kavala was still fairly surprised. She shouldn't have been.. but she was. And the sudden bright light startled her on a soul deep level. The light left an afterimage that illuminated more people further on and where she hadn't expected them to be.

It was most likely too late... but if she didn't get the crossbow loaded, she'd drop it and kick it out o the way. Then, either way, she'd assume a loose stance and wait for the zith to come to her. If any had spears, those would be the one she shot first or gave a face full of fire.

So she waited... the crossbow up if she was successful in loading it. If not, fists up, ready to latch on to any that remotely even came to close.

[Gillar]

Kavala's altered sight combined with the magical glow hanging about the area provided a clearer picture of the situation. Emaneus' mystical assault momentarily blinded the five visible zith allowing Kavala the opportunity to let loose a bolt from her crossbow. One of the zith took the shot to the right leg. Letting loose an additional howl of pain and surprise it began to lose altitude. The moment of blindness also left the zith open to a strike from one other individual who, up until that moment, had remained hidden in plain sight. Just on the edge of her vision, Kavala caught lightning quick movement. A glimpse in that direction would reveal a massive reptilian form leaping into the air. A moment earlier it had been lying but a short distance away; appearing as little more than a large boulder surrounded by some light foliage.

Istaris, graced with even greater strength from her bond with Emaneus, propelled her mighty body upward into the center of the struggling zith. Her great maw opened and clamped down on one of them. Landing several feet away, she proceeded to shake the hapless zith back and forth, snapping its body in all manner of unnatural directions before sending it sailing through the air and crashing into a tree. The mangled body dropped to the base of the tree, lifeless.

The unexpected actions of Kavala, Emaneus and Istaris left the four remaining zith scrambling blindly back to the surrounding trees. This offered an opportunity for another shot of a crossbow or release of djed if Kavala so wished. As for Istaris, the great lizard twisted her neck around and looked upward for the next zith to snatch. Emaneus tapped once more into his divine armband. Instead of a growing burst of light, the armband began to glow white hot, the silver veins of his arm soon took on the same white hot glow. The glow spread down his arm accompanied by an intense heat much like that of the fires of the forge. Soft, light blue flickering flames licked their way up and down his arm and focused in his fist where they burned brightest.

"We can't let them leave! If they escape, they will return in larger numbers." Emaneus shouted matter-of-factly to Kavala. This too was something not as common to the zith of the plains that Kavala knew of. When those zith were injured, frightened or otherwise bested, they usually tried to escape and seldom returned for some time. These more brutish looking mountain-dwellers were seemingly more dangerous. In fact, Kavala noticed quickly that instead of trying to flee, these zith appeared to be trying to gain a more secure vantage point.

[Kavala]

Kavala carefully aimed, tracking another Zith across the sky, and let another bolt fly towards it. The deadly spear of iron sailed upwards and struck through the threatening Zith just under the fleshy part of his armpit, driving deep into his lung at that angle. The Konti felt a momentary satisfaction as her infravision picked up the distress and her Rak’keli mark kicked in her compulsion to heal. There’d be no healing here however. Death ended that and it was the Zith’s death the Konti sought. The Zith paused in the sky, groping for a bolt strapped to her back to give her another chance to reload and fire. The Healer was grateful for the glow to the sky. Even with her altered vision it gave her a great overview of the area. She tried for a heart shot, the pause in its flying to hover and try to remove the already deeply embedded bolt her one opportunity to aim and fire the relatively immobile enemy.

The Konti was aware of Istaris. The reptile was a powerhouse of fight, leaping into the sky to snag the wounded Zith from the very air itself. She made short work of the menacing areal fighters as well, dispatching them with the effectiveness of her bonded rider. The dog like shaking of the corpses made Kavala acutely aware of how powerful her muscles were and how strong her teeth sliced up the enemies. The Zith stood no chance really once they were in the jaws of the riding lizard. And the bloody mass she spit out was proof of that.

Kavala was always reluctant to release djed even as she drew res forth. She didn’t want to deplete herself when greater things might lie in store or capture needed to be evaded. Magic was a last resort and a surprise that she didn’t want the Zith to know about. She’d use it, of course, when her bolts were gone or there were no choices left. But for now, with Emaneus’ words strong in her ears, the Konti picked the crossbow and started rapidly loading bolts. Two Zith were down, maybe more since she couldn’t tell if Emaneus had taken any down. That left three and Kavala made a conscious choice then and there to disable, kill even, those that remained.

The Konti reloaded with a strong pull and lifted the crossbow. She targeted the furtherst one out and aimed for its back, the muscles where the wings erupted from. A bolt through that area should disable flight long enough for the one of the three defenders to take down the fleeing horde. Kavala aimed, trailed the creatures slightly and pulled back on the trigger, caressing the trigger gently, not squeezing. The second the bolt left the crossbow, Kavala was pulling another bolt out and loading another. If she could she’d get two or three shots off, trying to down the fleeing zith so they could confront them without their ability to fly.

[Gillar]

Although something of a novice when it came to the use of her crossbow, Kavala's bolts shot through the air with precision that would surprise her. As she leveled the weapon and pulled the trigger, there was an odd sensation that shot through her arm. It felt like someone had laid a hand upon her shoulder. That touch brought with it a feeling of timelessness. It was as if she had an eternity to line up the shot and move her finger. For an instant, there was no threat, no danger to herself or anyone else around her. It was a calm that inspired patience that in turn presented the perfect shot. The feeling lasted but a breath yet it was so profound that Kavala would forever remember it.
Indeed the bolt that sunk into the targeted zith's lung caused the creature to stop mid-flight, unable to take a solid breath. That same odd feeling she experienced but seconds earlier allowed her to let loose another bolt which found its way deep into the zith's heart causing it to drop like an anvil to the forest floor.

Following Istaris shredding of her own prey, the great lizard spared a moment to look in Kavala's direction. The konti swore she saw the reptile lower its head in a sort of nod, perhaps one of appreciation, before the ixam moved to find another vantage point from which to strike. Istaris moved with a deceptive grace considering her immense size. As Kavala began loading bolts into the crossbow in hopes of taking down more of the zith before they could escape, she noticed movement on the ground in her periphery. It was Emaneus.

The isur, his blue metallic arm engulfed in like-colored flames, began running toward the zith as they pulled back into the trees. As he ran, he reached down and scooped up a handful of stone from the rocky ground beneath him. As his metallic fingers made contact with the stone, it parted as if it were mud. With the stone now clay in his hand, he threw it at one of the zith. As it left his hand, the now blue, flaming ball of molten stone flew through the air and hit the zith in gut. As it made contact, the stone stuck to the zith, searing its flesh as it continued to burn. The creature’s screams of pain filled the forest before it quickly perished from the burning that rapidly consumed a good portion of its midsection.

In the time Emaneus struck, Kavala had picked out the final two zith; both of which were scrambling through the trees, almost out of sight as they made for the tree tops in hopes of taking to the air and finally escaping. Kavala’s next bolt targeted at one of the zith’s back, shot through the air and struck it just a little off target. The bolt still lodged itself into one of the wing joints, causing the zith yelp in pain, smack its head into a branch and fall to the forest floor. Loading up and taking one last shot, Kavala wasn’t sure at first if it would strike true. She had just lost sight of the last zith as she pulled the trigger on the crossbow. She heard some thrashing of tree branches but could not see if her shot was true or if the zith had escaped. The glow that illuminated the area quickly began to fade as Emaneus approached Kavala. The flames licking their way up and down his arm had faded somewhat yet remained strong enough to act as a dim torch.

Emaneus spoke in a hushed tone, "Nicely done. We better check on that last one though...These things are like rats. If you don't destroy them all, they'll keep coming back." The priest motioned for Kavala to follow as he walked carefully in the direction the last two zith had been seen. They first passed the one that Emaneus had hit with the molten stone. The zith was crumbled up against the base of a tree, its entire midsection burnt to the point that charred ribs could be seen. It smelled of burnt fur and scorched meat. There was no doubt that it was no longer a threat. The zith that Kavala had hit in the wing was not far away and looked to have knocked itself out as it hit its head on the tree branch. Its subsequent fall had broken several bones which were obvious as its body lay battered, twisted and lifeless.

After several moments of looking through the trees for the last zith, it was nowhere to be found. If it had been hit by Kavala's crossbow bolt, it didn't appear to have been a fatal shot thus allowing the zith to escape. "That's not good. It will surely return with..." Emaneus paused, his head cocking ever so slightly to the side, his eyes closing. Then, just behind him, Kavala heard a loud screech and saw a large, zith-like shape, one of its wings twisted in odd directions, charge through the underbrush and leap at Emaneus' back. It all happened so quickly that Kavala had no real time to react before Emaneus, his eyes still closed, still facing Kavala, immediately reached his metallic arm out behind him and snatched hold of the zith by the face and squeezed. Kavala then noticed a huge form looming behind her, Istaris.

The ixam had sensed the presence of the zith and saw it attack. Her senses passed on to Emaneus who had in turn saw the same thing. The zith, the face of its skull shattered, the hair and flesh burned, fell to the ground in a heap when Emaneus released it. Opening his eyes, he gave a thankful nod to Istaris before speaking to Kavala. "Much better. We should get back to the shelter though, we have a dinner to finish now that this terrible business is over." As they made their way back to the hut, Emaneus commented on the zith, "These things are a plague to my people. Ever since King Sultros led our people to these lands, we've been troubled by the zith. They attack our caravans, are trading posts, some even find ways into the underground cities themselves to cause havoc. Now, since the great storm, their presence has grown and so has the threat they pose." Arriving at the hut, Emaneus opened the door and offered Kavala enter first.

The remainder of the night allowed for the two to finish dinner and continue and engage in any further discussion desired. He prepared a fresh basin of water from which to clean up and offered Kavala privacy to prepare for sleep. Istaris rested outside the hut, hidden among the surrounding trees. The night would progress and finish with no further worries. The following morning, when Kavala was ready, Emaneus would be found outside readying Istaris for the final leg of their journey. The air was cool and crisp although the sun shown brightly.

[Kavala]

The Konti healer turned warrior whispered her thanks quietly yet quickly. Kavala knew aide when she felt it. Her crossbow work wasn’t so good, nor either was her ability to target further out. There was some help involved, something greater than her own strength backing their fight. When time slowed, so too did her breathing and her concentration narrowed. Focus was always hard in a battle, but whatever was effecting Kavala made it seem so easy. Target, breathe, fire, breathe, reload, target, breathe, fire, breathe… it was beautiful in its own deadly way. And though she made a poor showing next to the Priest and his mount, the Konti felt proud to hold her own such that it was. Humbled, awe-struck, the Konti kept fighting nevertheless. Two Zith fell from the sky because of it.

Istaris was more than holding her own. Kavala couldn’t have been more proud of one of her own warhorses fighting without a rider than she was of Emaneus’ mount and long time partner. The Isur himself was a sight to behold. He wielded magic, Reimancy no less, like one of the ribbon dancers she’d seen at a Drykas Festival waving the long sinuous strands of wide silk ribbon attached to lengthy slim rods. It was truly beautiful, nothing like her awkward earthen spikes. He made molten rock from the very earth, something Kavala had never seen. She didn’t even have a name for what he crafted. It looked like heated metal but was rock instead. Jaw dropping in its shocking beauty, it killed with deadly imperfect precision. Was it fire and earth combined? The Konti had no idea. Having lived her entire life on the Sea of Grass and later Mura and Riverfall, she’d never seen a volcano, knew nothing of lava, and was stunned that such a thing even existed. It killed the Zith in the worst gut shot she’d ever seen, not just spilling its entrails from its body, but consuming them with intense heat almost instantaneously.

Turning, she shook her head and refocused, drawing for that feeling of timelessness that had been gifted to her a dozen breaths ago or more. But there was nothing left to kill. Emaneus’ voice broke through her concentration and she lowered her crossbow and turned towards him. Nodding, she agreed, and set off with him carefully scanning the area as she advanced. She couldn’t take the time to shift her eyes like she’d done before, taking on the Akalak infravision, so she instead concentrated her auristics and looked for life out beyond in the quickly falling gloom. Gone. Kavala gritted her teeth in frustration.

“It looks like it escaped. If these mountain Zith are like the plains Zith, it will bring reinforcements back with….. “ She spoke at the same time Emaneus did, not meaning rudeness, but still pumped with the blood of excitement flowing in her veins. She stopped vocalizing her train of thought the moment Emaneus did, not understanding what was happening. The ring on her finger burned still, but Kavala wasn’t sure it was the Zith’s corpses around or if it was that of a fresh attack. Emaneus answered that question for her as he snagged the very much living creature out of the air and shattered its skull. Kavala’s eyes went wide and she stared at his arm.

Mutely she followed him, leaving the crossbow strung until they actually got to the door of the shelter where she could stow it safely, the bolt replaced in her weapons belt. She was down a few, something she’d need to remedy in the market before she set sail again for home. The healer nodded to the priests words. “Out on the vast Sea of Grass we have issues too. They have inhabited every ruin and cave they can find, colonizing fast. They take humans as slaves and food. Their presence is unwelcome and very disturbing. They even bother Riverfall, though the Akalak make a sport of killing them. Kavala added, smiling slightly at the thought there was a million other things that would make far better sport than hunting Zith. “I think if we killed every last one we could find, they’d still repopulate and survive. A friend likens them to rats on a ship.” The Konti spoke softly, wistfully, and then asked Emaneus the question she had from earlier.

“I’d never seen anything like what I saw you fight with… the molten stone in your bare hand. Your arm. It was amazing. I don’t even have a word for it. Was that Reimancy… perhaps earth and fire combined? I didn’t know you could melt stone or that it would glow that red color. I know you’ve told me that your arms are gifts from Izurdin. I just have never seen one truly in action. Unfortunately most Isur in the east tend to conceal their arms if they can, as if they don’t want to stand out. I’ve seen Konti do the same thing, wrapping a scarf around their head or neck, concealing their gills. Humans are not accepting and its not easy to mingle in their society. I don’t understand their hatred, but it’s always there.” Kavala said softly.

When Emaneus gave her his answer, if he indeed decided to give her one at all, she’d quietly finish their meal with him and then help him clean up and set the shelter to order again. Once things were quiet, she’d wash, and then head to bed. Being a naturally early riser, she’d join him in the morning after a quick scout trip around the perimeter of the shelter.

When he was ready to leave, she would be as well.

[Gillar]

The evening having finally returned to peace as the two cleaned away some of the blood and grime from the battle. Kavala and Emaneus then sat down to finish their dinner. The hills around the small cabin was quiet save for the droning of insects and a cool breeze that gently rustled the surrounding trees. Istaris disappeared into the forest and found a comfortable place to sleep after devouring a couple of the zith corpses.

Emaneus smiled at Kavala’s question about how he fought against the zith; he could sense of bit of excitement amidst her wonder. “No, it was not reimancy. I’m no wizard.”

Taking a few sips of his drink, he then took a couple bites of his almost finished meal before continuing with his answer. “Indeed, our arms are gifts from Izurdin but it is not the arm itself which allowed me to create the fire.” Emaneus reached up to the silver band on his metallic arm and slid it down to his wrist, over his hand and sat it on the table before Kavala.

Still smiling, he said, “If you will allow me, I have a pre-bedtime story for you.” Emaneus leaned back a bit in his chair. “Izurdin is primarily known to the isur as the Divine Father. However, he has also been called the Great Architect. This is because, during the time of the world’s creation, it was Izurdin who designed the plan from which the other gods built upon to create everything you see around you. Without his plan, his intentions, for a world in which the gods could shape, mold and influence, none of what we see as reality, would exist.” He shifted a bit in his seat to get comfortable. “Moving forward in time, the world had been built. The mountains had risen, the forests had grown, oceans had been filled and life had been sprinkled across the land. A very early race of humans also existed. It was these humans that the gods discovered could be used to fuel their own divine power. As a result, the divine sought to influence and manipulate the humans to gain their worship and have them act on the gods’ behalf.”

Emaneus loved this story; it had been one of his favorites since he was a young child. “Izurdin was one of the few gods who chose to stay out of things directly. His way has always been one of guidance and opportunity as opposed to direct influence. He began to realize however the danger involved in the other gods’ manipulation of the humans. Wars were being fought, death was everywhere yet most of the gods cared only for how the humans could empower them. Eventually, he saw the gods turning on themselves thus wreaking untold destruction upon their creation. So it was that Izurdin finally decided to take action.”

Running his hand over the raised markings on his metallic shoulder, Emaneus traced them down all the way to his wrist as he spoke. “Izurdin still refused to take direct action as he felt it would be falling into the same trap as his fellow divine brothers and sisters. Instead, he decided to do what he did best; he would create and let his creation provide a model for the humans. This model would show them what they could become by making their own choices in life. They could choose to worship the gods but could also choose to be their own person and that person could be something great. This creation would need to be able to blend in to human society yet still stand out as being something special. In the center of his workshop stood a chunk of stone collected from deep within his own divine realm. The stone was not much to look at, dull gray with a single small vein of silver running through the center of it. However, the stone was harder than any substance known in either the divine or mortal realm. With his hammer and chisel, Izurdin got to work. Slowly, the stone fell to his chipping, cracking and breaking. As he labored over the stone, the familiar shape of a humanoid skeleton began to take form. When the excess stone was finally removed and the rough stone skeleton stood before him, Izurdin reached for a large piece of silver that he had fallen from the stone during the carving. Holding it in his crimson hand, Izurdin softened it to the consistency of clay. With the silver, he ran his hand over the stone skeleton. As he did, the silver melted over the bones and formed muscle and sinew. When he was finished with this he stepped back and gazed upon his progress.”

As their dinner was nearly finished, Izurdin rose from his chair to clean up while still telling the story. “In the silver muscles of the unfinished work before him, Izurdin saw his own reflection and smiled. As he smiled, the next step in the creation process began. Starting at the figure’s toes and slowly crawling its way up, light-blue tinted skin began to form over the silver muscles. As the skin began to cover the figure, it parted in places to allow some of the silver in the muscles to stand out like veins. The only part of the figure’s body that wasn’t covered in skin as it reached the neck was one of its arms; there the skin stopped at the shoulder. As the skin stretched up and over the figure’s head, a slightly raised ridge formed across its brow and short, black hair sprouted at the top of the head. Izurdin was then presented with a very lifelike statue of a something human and not human though its eyes were closed. He was not quite finished yet though and reached out with his crimson hand and touched the figure on its still stone shoulder. The stone cracked and began flaking away to reveal a silver-veined arm of pure ruby. There was but one thing left to do before his work was complete.

Reaching into his own chest, Izurdin broke off a tiny piece of his own heart. Pulling it forth he touched the figure’s chest with it and pressed it into the flesh, muscle and bone. Removing his hand, the piece of his heart was left in the figure’s chest which now looked unmarred. With his off hand, Izurdin lifted his thumb to his mouth and bit it, drawing a single drop of blood. He pressed his thumb to the figure’s forehead and said, “My world, my wealth, my heart, my blood, my son, awaken.”

The figure’s eyes opened and the first Isur gazed upon his father for the first time. This was the birth of Izurith, the first son of Izurdin.”

Emaneus returned to the table and sat back down. He was feeling rather dirty still from the fight with the zith but wanted to finish the story before getting himself really clean and bedding down for the remainder of the evening. “Izurith went to live among the humans. He acted as a teacher, guide and of course model of perfection for the humans. Although he did have some success as showing the humans the virtues of being strong, patience and industrious, the majority of them were too weak-minded and continued to embrace the will of whatever god was able to influence them the most. There were however a select few that Izurith found exemplified those qualities Izurdin prized most. Izurith presented these people to Izurdin and asked that he grace them with his blessing so that they too could help guide and teach the humans. In response, Izurdin reforged them, using Izurith as the model. Their previously fragile bodies became durable and strong, beautiful and refined. The men had their left arms transformed, the women their right ones. The arms took on the color of one of ten precious gemstones, all baring the mark of Izurdin. He named them the isur and Izurith took them on as brothers and sisters and led them toward building a new civilization; one that would show the entire world what was possible.”

Pointing to the armband, Emaneus said, “How does this story relate to that you may ask? When Izurdin reforged those humans into isur, his mark upon their shoulders allowed them to tap into the divine essence that had create them. It made them all Architects of their own lives. The mark, through the use of their arm, allows an isur to peel off a sliver of their own soul and impart it upon an object. It is a mentally and physically taxing process but by focusing on the memory of a significant life event, one can transfer related personal aspects of one’s self into the object, thus forever changing it. All isur, when they are mentally and physically capable, can transfer their strength and durability to an item making it near indestructible. The closer one gets to Izurdin and the more of his marks they acquire, the more pronounced effects their soul has upon the object. For example, if one is courageous and confident and sure of their own actions, if they’ve imparted upon a sword and unsheathe it in battle, their allies may experience their own rush of confidence and courage. Some have even imparted upon an item to better prepare it for magecraft. There is a reason why the isur are considered the masters of that art. Those like me, who have gained a truly special connection with the Divine Father, we can impart truly fantastic things upon an object. That armband is imparted with my first memories of working in a forge. The joy, love, passion, effort, blood and sweat of my early days in the forge are focused into it. As such it allows me to call upon the fires of the forge as if they were a part of me. In fact, they are a part of me. The whole process involves memories of significant life events with a certain intent in mind for the imparting process. It is Izurdin’s way of using our own lives as a model and our intent as the tool of creation. It could also be seen as our lives are the anvil, our intent the hammer with the object to be changed in the center of the two.”

Emaneus, his story over, allowed Kavala time to digest all that he said. It was getting quite late however there really was no time frame for when they needed to reach their final destination. The threats posed by traveling during the daytime were less than those presented at night. The path was also patrolled enough to keep the surrounding area from getting too uncontrolled. Zith were not active during the day so Emaneus saw no need for a rush. Eventually though, the two would clean themselves fully from their earlier conflict and lay down for some much needed rest. The next day, Emaneus would be found preparing Istaris for travel. When Kavala was ready, they got underway.

The path through the foothills began to get rockier as they climbed into the mountains. The forest began to thin and the air grew even cooler. Indeed there wasn’t much in the way of danger as the two ascended the mountain path. Istaris was at home in the mountains and easily navigated the rocky footing despite her massive size. Kavala spotted a couple goats climbing up what looked to be a complete sheer wall of rock and they did so with relative ease. A few large birds circled about overhead. There was plenty of time for Kavala to ask more questions of Emaneus although for his part he was relatively quiet. He apologized at one point for his relative silence and explained that the closer they got to the Footsteps, the more intense the feeling he had of closeness to Izurdin. Toward the end of the day, just as night was beginning to fall, Istaris came to a stop. “Here we are, the Footsteps of the King.”

The place where they had stopped was a small clearing in the otherwise rocky path. The clearing however was surrounded in all directions save the one they came from by towering mountain walls. The walls rose almost a hundred feet high and were sheer save for a small outcropping maybe 10 feet from the top. There also looked to Kavala to be a strange series of holes leading up the rock toward the outcropping. Closer look would reveal what looked to be handholds of sorts in the shape of one’s fingers; as if someone had sunk their fingers into the stone in order to gain a better grip for climbing.

“It is said that King Sultros led the entire isurian race up the path we just traveled. He was certain that coming here would reveal the key to saving his people. When he arrived at this point, he nearly gave up. The remains of his entire civilization were waiting along the mountain path down into the foothills and had followed him in hopes that their King could save them from terrors of the Valterrian. When he looked back upon the terrified faces of the men, women and children he had saved from the destruction of the Old Kingdom, his resolve was renewed. Plunging his metallic fingers into the stone of the mountain, he began to climb. Eventually he reached that outcropping and disappeared from sight. What happened after that, nobody knows. The King never spoke of it and there is no recorded history of what took place. All that is known is that he saw our future and whatever it was, it led our people to safety. If you truly wish to know King Sultros and understand just how significant he is to my people, climb the mountain and follow in his footsteps.”

[Kavala]

Kavala loved Emaneus’ voice. He had a cadence to his stories that had her settling into her seat and straining forward, building pictures in her mind. The Konti sighed contentedly as Emaneus began his long wandering explanation. She always learned far more from her questions than she anticipated and this was no exception.

Not magic. That was a surprise to her. Magecraft was a new concept, something she’d only heard whispers of in old books and through some of the members of the Antiquities Society. Emaneus had far more interesting things to say. In her world, things revolved around combat, sometimes even magic but the Gods were left out of the equation a great deal of the time. But in Emaneus’ world there was far more mysticism involved. Emaneus lived the life Kavala in a lot of ways wanted. With most of her family gone, parents especially, and only dependents remaining, Kavala in a lot of ways longed for a closer more personal relationship with the divine. She’d give everything she had for Nysel to give her access to more of his world, his time, even just occasionally and his words. And now, hearing about Izurdin, she understood that Nysel wasn’t the only person in the pantheon worthy of respect. Ivak was, so too was Eyris… but now Izurdin who seemed to have the kind of ethos Kavala clung too and longed to surround herself with. Emaneus was truly blessed to be one of Izurdin’s children. And she was glad, not for the first time, she’d taken the time to undertake this journey even though in the end the people of Sultros already knew what happened during the Djed Storm of 512.

Kavala nodded her permission, not bothering to hide her eagerness to hear what Emaneus had to say about the Isur’s Divine Father… now the Great Architect. The priest’s words rolled off his tongue with a depth of affection Kavala could feel was almost tangible. He had a great deal to be proud of coming from the origins that were just now revealed to her. Kavala’s race was young, untried, and still stumbling with only a half formed purpose through the world. She could easily contrast the Konti with the Isur and see their differences laid bare within the Priests words.

The Konti shifted in her seat, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and looked thoughtful as she listened. It took her almost no time to realize she wasn’t hearing a creation myth but in fact an actual creation story. The Isur were formed from stone, a stone unlike any other, and made of their Father’s love with a piece of His beating heart in each of them. This was reinforced by His Mark. Kavala had often wondered at Rak’keli and Avalis’ role in the Konti’s creation. She knew they were the children of these sisters and Laviku, but there was no hard firm story about it. There was no first Konti like there was a first Drykas and now a first Isur.

It was a primal sense of wanting to belong that filled Kavala with a sense of longing and awe. She was not jealous, for such things didn’t run in her veins. But what she did long for such a connection, a sense of history, something she’d been denied utterly having been born of a Konti mother in the Sea of Grass among Drykas men. The Isur could trace their bloodlines back through time to Izurith. She felt, wrapped with Emaneus’ words, like part of the story… the God’s forging of His son… the statue carved, the skin stretched, the brow and hair crafted. She could almost smell the fires of that first forge and feel its heat lick off her face even though it was just the fire within the shelter that warmed them.

“Humans so need a teacher, a guide and a model. Even today they still do.” She said softly, knowing how misguided most of them were and how angry and lost they were, swarming across Mizahar without a thought for anything other than their selfish actions. Even Kova… the one who had brought destruction on them all, was no different. Her actions and the pain she caused Ivak still resonated in the here and now, so long afterwards.

Kavala was also moved at how Izurdin had granted some humans aspects of himself and welcomed them into the Isur fold. It made sense because energetically it was probably far easier to remold than completely start from scratch like he had with Izurdith. Kavala longed to ask Emaenus how come the Isur withdrew from humans, retreated, and left them eventually to their own devices. But she knew the answer inherently. Humans were stubborn, difficult, and selfish creatures full of words like I, Me, My and Mine. They did not convert easily to We, Us, Our, and think like a whole community. It had to be an incredible burden on the first Isur and on generations of them that came to pass. There had been wars, politics, and people vying for power where none should exist. It had to have taken its toll on the race, no matter how strong Izurdin made them.

But his story was just not about the history of His people. Emaenus was talking about the history of Izentor and the transference of the skill of Magecrafting. She understood more as she listened, her mind pulled far from the origins and interactions of two peoples and into the origins and interactions of two things. One thing did stand out to her though. And that one thing was Izurdin’s generosity towards his Marked. Some gnosis marks granted aspects of power. Some granted protection. But the ones that granted protection and manipulation were far more common than those that loaned power. Izurdin flat out loaned out his creation power just as Rak’keli did hers to heal. This struck Kavala hard in the ways she compartmentalized The Divine and added in her mind one more category for them to be considered worthy of worship. And it struck her in that moment that every single Deity she looked too was a granter, not a protector or one that instilled chaos or randomness. And in that affirmation she felt validated in her quest to add Izurdin to that group. The Divine Architect deserved it, even if she was only a Konti woman and not one of his perfect creations.

When they went to bed Kavala thanked Emaneus for his gift of knowledge and slept deeply and dreamlessly. There was only a moment of brief wakefulness in the night where she swore the pantheon she looked to stood around her and whispered. She wanted to lift her head and join them in the conversation, but her exhaustion was so much that she could only fade back into the abyss of rest.

The next morning they rode on. When they stopped in the clearing Kavala slid off Istaris’ back and walked forward unbidden. She heard Emaneus in her ears clearly, but there was such a strong compulsion for her to walk forward that she left her pack and all that she had carried with them on the trip with the Priest and strode forward. When she reached the face of the mountain and lifted on her tiptoes she felt the hand holds and placed her webbed hands in the indentions that ancient Isur had made all those years ago.

There was a roaring in her mind that could have been only the wind, but to her it felt like the voices of every single Isur that had ever stood where she stood, reaching as she reached. The Konti shut her eyes and pulled herself up, reaching blindly for the next handhold, climbing by replacing a hand grip with a toe and easing up the face. She looked inside herself rather than at the outside world and found her lips forming words she’d never meant to speak.

Each step motion upwards caused a prayer to be uttered from her mouth. Each one was different, each to a different God or Goddess that Kavala looked too. Her words drowned out the roaring in her ears that resembled a crowd getting fired up in an arena. The simple act brought her silence, a meditative peace, as she moved forward, upward, filling the air chill, her lungs burn, and her muscles unused to such work begin to protest at the process. She was a creation of the sea scaling a rock face made not by a mage but by a God. It would never sing to her like created rock did. But nevertheless there was music to be heard, in between her breaths and the uttering of prayers from her lips.

So she climbed and continued to climb, finding her way by feel and by the song and words on her lips.