Even in Death (Edalene)

by **Mycroft** on May 19th, 2011, 4:52 am

"Damie..."

And she was there, in the distance, her white gown pulled wildly by the fickle grassland gales. He couldn't take his eyes off her. That golden flowing hair that glittered in the sun, so much like hers had been. At first he thought it was his tired imagination, but over and over, he heard her voice and saw her in the distance. It couldn't be who he thought it was - that was impossible. But deep in his heart of hearts, old scars had begun to ache, and his long-quieted grief sprang to life and overtook him. He could no longer deny his intense desire to know.

Hiya... is that you...?

Date: TBA by Edalene

The previous night...

It was cold, that night. Much colder than it rightly should have been. Brisk winds from the northerlies had been carried down into the east end of Cyphrus, sending the Sea of Grass into slow, gently rolling waves. It was the last whisper of Winter, Damie thought to himself, making itself known before the imminent summer extinguished its chill completely. This worked well to his advantage, he knew, as many of the game animals in the grasses would be heading south and west to sidestep the cool winds. More importantly, this also meant that he was less likely to run into unsavory characters like glassbeaks, and other dangers such as snakes were diminished as they kept to their warm holes. As he paused to check his web, he couldn't sense anything significant close enough to him to be a threat.

Still, he knew it was dangerous to be so far from the security of Endrykas, especially so late in the evening. A spattering of stars painted the black expanse of the night sky, the sun being left as only a dim gray memory the lip of the horizon. It had set well over an hour ago, but Damie was determined, and far from ready to go back. Not yet. He knew what he looked for was... well, it was impossible, but... after all these years, how could he ignore a sign like this?

"Damie, we should be heading back. We're much too far from Endrykas," Zeyba voiced some twenty feet behind him. His aged Strider seemed to feed on Zeyba's apprehension and wouldn't speed its gait faster than a cautious trot. "There is nothing out here."

"There is, and you know there is!" Damie called back, his voice hoarse and parched from thirst. He pushed his Strider onward, though even his own lifelong bond mate seemed to know that this quest was useless. "You can feel it, can't you?! There is something out here, something that shouldn't be."

"I... yes, of course I felt it." Zeyba wiped a hand over his face. It didn't matter how many times he tried to dissuade Damie, he was resolute. It had been sixteen years since she passed. How could he still feel this strongly for his dead wife? Zeyba would have thought Damie's heart, at the very least, would have grown colder. With tensions between he and his daughter, however, perhaps he was just falling apart. "At best it's an intruder, or some lost fool about to catch his death. Likely both, but nothing to do with us. Is that what you're looking for?"

"It's... it feels strange," Damie wasn't sure how to describe it. It was simply... unnatural. It didn't feel... exactly human. But if Hiya really was out here, then it couldn't be human. Damie had watched her die, and had held her lifeless body in his arms. There was no doubt about her fate. But there were ways for the dead to revisit the living. If she was out here, looking for him... None of this made sense! But he had to know. As Edalene grew older and further in her own direction, he had begun to feel as if there was nothing left for him. He knew this was crazy, but... No, this was real. He knew it. "I can't identify it... you saw her, didn't you? I know you saw her. I'm not imagining things!"

"I'm not sure what I saw anymore, Damie," Zeyba sighed.

"If you don't want to be out, here, fine! Run back home! I'll search for her on my own."

"Damie, you'll catch your death out here if you—"

"GO!" the man roared, his voice rolling across the plains like thunder. He reeled his Strider around angrily, which bucked a little in protest. Damie could be a bit rough when he was frustrated. He glared at the dark shape that was Zeyba, his eyes burning from dryness and flecks of dust. "Just... just leave me be."

Exhaling in defeat, Zeyba steered his horse away from Damie, and with a light tap of his heel, sent her heading back toward the city. He wouldn't leave his old friend, not really, but he'd maintain an observatory distance. Damie was being impossible, which was really not all that unusual. His patience however was losing out to the former Watchman's stubbornness, and Zeyba needed time for himself to cool off. He didn't care for being shrugged off like Damie didn't need him.

Suddenly Zeyba found himself being hurled backward through the air. His Strider had very suddenly reared up, unleashing a haunting, equine scream that split the night's placid quiet. Before Zeyba even hit the ground, his trusted companion was galloping off. He grunted as he tumbled painfully on the ground, a sharp pain shooting from his shoulder and across his back. "Valia!" The aged rider cried out, both in pain and despair that his Strider had abandoned him. She would never run off and leave him! What could—

"She's beautiful," a calm, new voice said quietly. "I haven't seen a specimen like that for decades."

Grasping his dislocated shoulder, Zeyba craned his neck toward its source. It was too dark to see anything, just the silhouette of a thin man standing a few paces away.

"Who the petch are you?!" Damie demanded from behind him, dismounting his Strider in a hurry and immediately running to his friend's aid. In the distance, Zeyba's Strider, Valia, had rounded out her path and had begun galloping back, albeit slowly. The injured man breathed a sigh of relief. He knew she wouldn't leave him.

"Hello," the figure responded flatly. Without another word, the stranger stepped forward and put his hand on Zeyba's shoulder. In another moment, he found himself unable to form words, or even push out a voice. He opened his mouth into a silent scream, desperately trying to draw breath, but his lungs had seized. Zeyba could only feel a burning chill spread through his body, sucking out every grain of warmth, until he could no longer feel anything at all.

Zeyba went limp in Damie's arms. Enraged, he rose to his feet, easily a head taller than the dark, unrecognizable figure. "You monster! What did you DO?"

"Don't worry. It'll only hurt for a moment." The figure reached out with his hand.

~~~

The next day.

By late afternoon, neither Damie or Zeyba had returned. Endrykas was not without its resources, and immediately, the Watch known that something had happened to them. Something was out there Cyphrus, and two Drykas, two former Watchman, had been injured. Perhaps even killed - but something was blocking their webbing. They couldn't be made out very clearly, but the Watchmen knew one thing - they knew where the disturbance was. A search party had already been sent out. It had become very, very clear by now: There were intruders only a few dozen miles from Endrykas, and they were dangerous.

Finally as the sun was setting, a pack of was on the horizon again, returning from their search. Those who knew of Damie and Zeyba's disappearance had emerged from their pavilions to see what the Watchmen had uncovered. As they drew nearer, it became more evident that something was terribly amiss. The Watchmen were restless, their horses stepping slowly. Two Striders followed the party close in tow - one of them riderless, and one of them carrying something its back, draped by a dark fur hide.

The lone horse, the one not carrying a rider, had belonged to Damie.

by **Edalene** on May 19th, 2011, 6:24 am

71st Spring 511AV

By the time she had returned home the night before, Damie had already gone. It didn't really bother her. He didn't usually go out at nights, having espoused often when Eda was younger that the Sea of Grass was even more dangerous in the dark, but of course she didn't know where he had gone. She had come home from the War Pavillion just after sundown. Yartree was being an unsociable bastard as usual. When she had tentatively asked where her father was, he had grunted like the ape he seriously was and gone back to sharpening his petching longsword. Eda had stuck out her tongue at him when he wasn't looking. Don't tell anyone.

But she had gone to sleep early after a long day of training without worrying, assuming he would be back after she had drifted off. And if he wasn't, he would be back in the morning. Communication wasn't the best between them anymore - Eda was simply too scared to speak to him since their last fight, and Damie it seemed did not care what happened to her. She might as well have been a fly that was only mildly irritating at times, an unconscious wave of the hand anytime it got too close. That was what Eda was, she knew it, and she was okay with it.

She woke up and he wasn't there. That was when it became odd. She knew he wouldn't have spent the night with a woman; Hiya had never released her hold on him. She knew he wouldn't get drunk; he espoused responsibility. She didn't know where he was. The War Pavillion? No, but he had no classes today. She would check it nonetheless.

She moved through the silent tent, Yartree snoring away in the background as always, slinging up onto the constant presence of Ayira with her beloved blade at her side. A gentle murmur, leaning forward and stroking her neck, and they were off on a gentle canter through the quiet walkways of Endrykas, the sun having only just begun to warm the tents. The occasional Drykas looked up at her, but she was just another aimless youth who would be accosted by elders later to do their chores. Except she wouldn't be.

The War Pavillion was silent, but nonetheless open. Early morning training was always available, and the few Drykas in there nodded towards Eda before continuing their stretches - they knew her well. But she did not acknowledge them, she had never spoken to them properly, and she had more important things to do now. Like where was her father?

He certainly was not here. But she realised something at that moment. She had just risen early, cantered across Endrykas to look for the man who didn't even bat an eyelid when she had bonded with Ayira. She was looking for a man who saw her as nothing more than a broken imitation of his dead wife. A man who probably did not care if she lived or died. She couldn't even get angry at that thought. A deep sigh arose within her, and she turned around to train.

* * * * *

She returned later that evening, her shirt sweaty from the training she had done. When she walked into the pavillion, she saw nothing but Yartree and everything as it had been earlier that day. The sun was almost down, darkness sweeping over Endrykas. Now was the time for family and food and laughter. So where was hers? Looking tentatively over to Yartree, she decided to question him.

"Yartree," she began, her voice timid and soft. She was a different person around family. Family were not what they were to other people. Familyto her was ridicule and condescention, and Yartree stood at the pinnacle of it. "Where is Father?" The question was simple, timid. She sounded like a little girl again. When she spoke about Damie, she always did.

He looked up at her, with black eyes and a smirk on his face - surely to taunt her over her tone - and he opened his mouth to reply. But a hail from outside paused them. They both turned to the entrance of the tent, and Eda walked over curiously, Yartree still lazily getting to his feet. It would be her father, she knew it. It was probably one of his friends.

But when she popped her head out of the tent flap... it was not. Two of the Watch stood waiting, sombre and stoic, with a carefully lined neutrality on their faces. The type of neutrality which is forced. The neutrality that is there to hide a darker secret. "Edalene Sunblaze?" One of them asked, the taller one. His voice was surprisngly kindly. Yartree came out silently behind her to listen. She hoped it was not about the law she had broken last season ... she had served her punishment! What he said next didn't even occur to her.

"Your father and his friend, Zeyba, went missing in the Sea of Grass last night. We have found Zeyba's body, and your father's strider has come back too..." A pause, and Eda's heart seemed to stop. "Edalene... your father didn't come back with them."

And everything went fuzzy. There was a buzzing in her ears and she could vaguely hear Yartree questioning the Watchmen. She could feel the gaze of the one who spoke to her on her face, she could sense the other one talking and gesturing to the horizon. And that's when it clicked. The horizon.

She wasn't even aware of running, she wasn't aware of slinging up onto Ayira and fitting into her yvas, she wasn't aware of galloping with the shouts of the three men behind her. All she knew was that she had to prove them wrong. Damie would be on that strider waiting for Eda, and he would reprimand her for something she didn't actually do and everything would go back to normal. Because 'normal' wasn't a great life, but it was normal. Damie had to be alive for everything to be normal. He had to be on that Strider. He would be on that Strider. He would be.

She galloped as fast as she could, the small sleek Ayira riding through the wind with ease, as if Zulrav was sending his gusts to help Eda. She was not religious, not in the least, but for a moment she prayed to Kihala - just let him live. You are the goddess of life. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Keep people alive? But it was only a fleeting thought. She didn't put much hope in the Gods. The others were probably cantering behind her, but she tore ahead of them until finally, she reached the edge of Endrykas.

And the truth was shown.

A body was on the back of the familiar Strider of Damie's friend, Zeyba. She could only assume it was him, the body shape clunky and awkward underneath. The procession was slow, and Damie's Strider seemed restless. Her throat closed up and tears appeared. She loved her father. She did. She loved him, he just didn't love her back. "NO!" she cried, and the sound was heartwrenching. She could hear the shouts of Yartree behind her, catching up, but she galloped up to the watchmen with the body and slung off quickly.

She was short, but she marched right up to them and stood. She stamped her foot and crossed her arms, after poking the man in the chest. "Why are you here!" she yelled, and anguish had been extinguished. All that remained was pure determination and anger. "You haven't found him yet! What are you doing here?! Go out there and look for him, or I WILL! DO YOUR PETCHING JOBS!" Tears were running down her face, but there was no lack of anger. Her heart was set. Where was Damie?!

by **Mycroft** on May 19th, 2011, 9:41 am

The senior Watchman only grimaced as the upset girl prodded him in the chest. He brought his hand over his hair and sighed. He could spout at her words of false hope, but truth be told, he knew it would make little difference. Damie should have known better than to go off at night, even if he had Zeyba with him. What was puzzling, the Watchman had known Damie was an experienced horseman and could find his way fairly easily around the Sea of Grass. It just didn't make any sense that he would be so brash.

Another round of sobbing sounded his back left, and he turned to see three women dash forward toward Zeyba's Strider. A few other members of the Watch had begun gently taking the man's corpse from the horse's back, and his wives had all begun crying amongst themselves. The Watch kept the fur drape over him - not just out of respect, but because they didn't want to show the corpse to the bystanders here on the edge of Endrykas. It was just... just too eerie. At least they had been able to recover the poor man's body, so they could give him a proper sending here at his home. Zeyba was back with his family.

"I'm sorry, Edalene," the Watchman said quietly, almost whispering as he watched Zeyba's body taken away. His Strider followed along insistently, as if in denial that her master was dead. She kept pressing her muzzle against the covered body. Damie's Strider was still, as if in shock, or simply hadn't decided what to do with itself. Several of the older Watchmen, who'd known Damie well, had begun petting the horse to give it comfort, but the Strider was still. "We will search for your father, but it will be dark within the hour, and whatever killed Zeyba is still out there." He was particularly bad at giving news like this. He thought he had been giving words of comfort, but all he could manage to do was be brutally honest.

Well, maybe that's what she deserved, what she needed. The girl was in hysterics; he couldn't believe that a few it-will-be-okays and don't-worrys would help her.

"Whatever is out there is very dangerous, and almost certainly foreign." The Watchman turned to Eda, grimacing when he saw the look on her face, forcing him to glance away. "A lot of the webbing we have placed out in the wilds has been torn and broken, and in such specific areas that we believe it must be intentional. It was by the grace of the Gods that we found Zeyba... but the scene itself was very strange."

The Watchman's own horse came plodding up calmly, nosing into his side and pawing at the dirt. He pet her gently, feeling eased by her presence. "The only human body there was Zeyba's, but there were no wounds. No marks on his body that would indicate an animal attack. His skin was... sheet white, almost bluish. He was cold to the touch, colder than he should have been after laying out in the sun all morning. It looked like he had frozen to death."

He hadn't meant to be so gruesome, but he reminded himself again that he was terrible at this. Being an experienced Watcher was more about protecting the horseclans, and routing threats to Endrykas - not disclosing puzzling scenes to frightened young girls. "Even stranger, your father's Strider was there, and so was Zeyba's. There was no trace of your father but... there was another horse."

That's when the baying in the distance had become more apparent. Having tailed behind the search party, three mounted Watchmen were painstakingly leading what looked to be a feral horse toward the camp. It was making a noisy fuss, uttering very alarming, angry whinnies and deep, resonating bleats. It struggled against its ropes fervently, trying to plant its hooves in the dirt and shaking its head. Every so often, it gave in, set at ease by the cool tempers of the three other horses it trotted beside. The peace would only last minutes before its temper flared again.

Though its coloration was similar to the Seme breed - the thickly built work horses that pulled Endrykas' pavilions - it still managed to look wildly out of place. It looked more built for running than for work, sporting thin legs and a lean barrel. Its coat was a deep, shimmering chocolate, but contrasting to the rest of its body, its mane and tail were a pale, luminescent gold. It wasn't set with a harness or saddle, let alone a yvas, but it might have been removed.

"I thought perhaps it was a mixed blood, sired by a Seme, but one of the other Watchmen identified it as a thoroughbred Kalean breed. A Firemane, I think. We're positive that this horse belongs to the foreigner, or foreigners that killed your..." He stopped himself short, and bit his lip. "Killed Zeyba."

by **Edalene** on May 19th, 2011, 11:40 am

Eda tapped her foot impatiently while the stupid watchman went through all the awkward sighs, the rustling of the hair, the looking anywhere but at her. It was like a routine. They didn't think Damie would make it; that much was clear. A logical part of her recognised that it was nighttime, it was the Sea of Grass and he was alone - he was probably not going to make it. That thought was what kept the tears keep flowing.

But her father could not be dead. Her father was a man who fought off three glassbeaks at once! He was a member of the Watch. It made absolutely no sense. Her father had sat her on her knee every night when she was little, with Yartree listening in eagerly and Eda's arms around his neck, listening to the tales of the grasslands and what dangers lurked among them. Like the time he had nearly been captured by Zith, and as he began to escape olidosapai began to charge! That was Damie Sunblaze. Damie Sunblaze did not die in the night alone.

She didn't care for his quiet tone, as if he were trying to placate an irresponsible child. "You are not sorry," she stated. It was unnaturally loud. "If you were sorry, you would be out there searching for him. Are the Watch so lazy that you wait an extra night to go out and look?" She grabbed his forearm, almost anxiously, and her fingers scrabbled at his skin as she breathed hard. "Are the Watch so stale?" she hissed, and it was clear she was making it personal, though the words flew faster and her throat grew tighter. Hysteria was setting in. "What happened to the tales my father told of fighting Zith and protecting Endrykas at all costs?! Why are you not what people say?"

But then she took a deep breath, gasping, as her voice ran out of steam and everything just went silent again. When she wasn't talking, it hurt more. But now he was explaining and it was all she could do to cling onto what he was saying to escape the inevitability of the truth. But she couldn't invest in what he was saying. The combined horror of her missing father, her father's dead friend, a being tearing apart the web and the disgusting mutilation of Zeyba... it was an overflow of emotion. One would collapse under it all. She merely kept her hand clutched onto his forearm and tried to stay afloat.

But it broke through in her mind, the baying and the shouting and the struggle. Slowly, as if mud was sticking to her neck and she had to wade through, she turned to see this horse. And suddenly, everything sped up again, and the action played out before her, with the horse struggling and the men rearing it in. It was wild and beautiful, but dangerous, everything a wild horse should be. Eda watched it from afar with admiration ... until the Watchman said who it belonged to. "This ... this horse belonged to the one who has done this?" Her voice was quivering, but with anger. "I ... no..." She couldn't talk. Her face was red. She didn't know how to explain this anger, let alone how to control it. Her hand went to her broadsword and she drew it, the blade gleaming in the air as she began to her towards the horse, ready to maim something to avenge Zeyba. But not her father. Her father was not dead.

by **Mycroft** on May 19th, 2011, 12:24 pm

The Watchman let the girl vent. In all likelihood, she had just lost her father, and as far as he knew, her only remaining family. Still, her words weren't without their sting, and he bore them the best he could. It wasn't as if he weren't frustrated with himself, or that the entire Watch regimen weren't all carrying heavy hearts for their failure. Damie Sunblaze was a respected man. Unfortunately for Edalene, there was much more involved here than just her lost father.

Clearly there was something larger and more sinister at work here than they could have guessed, and the situation with these hostile intruders posed a dire threat, one that tragically needed greater attention than dedicated search for a man who was most likely dead. Their investigation into Zeyba's death and the torn web did so happen to include learning the whereabouts of Damie, so Edalene was in luck in that regard. At least for now.

When she was finished talking, the Watchman began gathering himself so he could try again to calmly explain the situation to her. Poor girl, honestly. "It's not about laziness, it's... what are you doing?" he asked as Edalene drew her sword, her attention suddenly focused on the horse. Surely she wasn't planning to INJURE it? Even if the horse did belong to the enemy, the beast itself was innocent. Let alone that, it was remarkably beautiful. Even upset as she was, she couldn't possibly be considering taking her anger violently out on the clueless, if not ornery animal.

"Wait, Edalene," the Watchmen took a few steps forward, but was too afraid to try to stop her. She was hysterical, most certainly, and there was no saying that in her unstable state, she might not turn that sword on him. "You're not seriously considering... Edalene, wait!"

The Firemane, still fighting against the three tethers that held it in place, didn't seem to notice her approach at first. It kept bucking and rearing up, kicking out its front legs, then frantically kicking backward at nothing as its front hooves came back down. The display showed the horse was obviously male: a fully matured stallion. The Striders uneasily shuffled under their riders, but they were far too experienced and well trained to be put too ill-at-ease by the frustrated Firemane. His fatigue was showing however, as he was bellowing less and his muscles twitched. He looked like he was ready to fight his capture to his death.

Then it stopped, suddenly and without warning. One of its dark brown eyes, so widely opened that one could see the border of white around the iris, locked suddenly on the girl with the sword. Any animal that understood what that weapon meant might respond with fear - as the Firemane had only a moment ago been readily displaying. But when it looked at her, it seemed to placate. The Watchmen studied it, puzzled, because it no longer struggled.

The animal stood in the spot for several moments, its spent shoulder muscles quivering with exhaustion. Snorting and flicking its tail, it then took a tentative step toward Edalene, and for no reason at all, lowered its head. The gesture looked like the animal was trying to graze, but someone with more imagination might see this act, and attach inappropriate human qualities to it. Almost like... like it was apologizing.

"That's odd," the Watchman added. "Thing's been working itself to death since we wrangled it. I can't imagine why it's acting this way suddenly." He turned to one of his nearby men. "Take the animal to the Amethyst Pavilions. They have better resources to keep and care for it until we figure out what to do with it."

Turning to the girl, the Watchman spoke to her personally, bewilderment in his voice. "Whoever owned that horse took damn good care of it. Its hide is spotless and smooth, and even its hooves are clipped. The mane and tail could stand to be braided, but all in all, I can't help but think whoever owned this animal would want to come after it."

by **Edalene** on May 19th, 2011, 12:57 pm

Eda didn't think about the dangers of charging a bucking horse - head on. She logically knew that hooves could come down on her and break her neck in an instant. Break anything in an instant. A small cool part of her observed the size and sex of the horse; a stallion. A fullblooded, fullgrown, Firemane stallion. And Eda was charging in head on.

But she didn't gave a petching shyke. She merely turned back her shoulders and was steeled all the more in her resolve. Whatever or whoever owned that horse had taken her father, and she wanted him back. She could hear the shouts of the Watchman, but she hadn't ever felt like this before. She hadn't ever wanted to stab something until it died, until it felt the pain that surely Damie would be feeling (because he was still alive, damnit!). She hadn't felt this rage before. What was it called ... ?

Revenge.

The horse stopped before she could, her sword ready and primed to drive into the belly of the raging stallion. It was not that she wanted to, but it was pure instinct that as the target drove to a halt, she did too. She watched it's eyes, locked so intensely on hers, and froze in her place, gripping her sword ever tighter. It was as if she thought that the tighter she gripped, the more her resolve would grow. But the horse stared and stared with such a human intelligence that Eda could not look away, captivated as she was by the sudden calm. No one was speaking. It was her and the horse.

Eda's immediate action was to stagger backwards as the horse moved forward, but something stopped her. The stallion had been kicking and bellowing not minutes before and now it wanted to move forward. She had no idea what would happen to her if she crossed this horse, so the sword stayed in her grasp and she remained alert, ready to maim this beast if it so much as inched forward.

But even with all the drama and emotion and high tensions, it was only a matter of time until she did something that was just so classically Edalene. When the stallion lowered its head, the shaggy mane flowing down, it's entire body a picture of apology, Edalene dropped her sword. She dropped her broadsword onto the grass in front of a whole host of experienced fighters, who were probably judging the emotional girl for it. But she didn't care. Her eyes remained locked on the horse, curious and confused. What was it doing ... ?

She nodded along mutely with what the Watchman said, watching the beast still. The Watchmen came and did their duty as Eda dreamily turned towards the Watchman, her mind still puzzling over what the horse had done. "Yes, it is a very pretty horse," she murmured, thinking over just how oddly human the beast had looked. The horse was led away then, and she refocused her eyes on the man before her. The horse was just some freak of nature. Her eyes narrowed, and she bent down to retrieve her broadsword, the knots of her mother gleaming in the setting sun. "Yes, the horse is amazing and whatnot. But we are Drykas. We see horses every day. WHAT are you going to do about my father?"

by **Mycroft** on May 20th, 2011, 6:21 am

Frustrated, the Watchman's nostrils flared as he sighed. He felt bad for her, he really did. However, taking her despair and confusion out on the present company - who WERE trying to help her, no less - was not making this any easier for anyone. Two Drykas brothers had been lost last night, and something very grim was out there, more sinister than a pack of predators. Magic had killed Zeyba, no doubt about it. How exactly that happened was a troubling mystery.

The Watchmen holding the Firemane with ropes began moving again. Contrary to his earlier behavior, the stallion moved along with them peacefully - even willingly. He remained in step with the Striders before the slack was even gone from his ropes.

As the Firemane was led away and the Watch regiment continued further into the city, the senior Watchman put his hand on the girl's shoulder. With her sword in the dirt, he no longer feared her vengeful retribution being directed at him. He locked his eyes with hers and maintained a stern expression. Still, he couldn't hide the anger in his own eyes - anger at her, and angry at the possible threat to the Drykas. "We will find your father, but there's no telling what state he's in or even he's even alive. He's a smart man, and experienced. We'll search for him in the morning, but all we can do until then is hope for the best."

His hand slid off her shoulder as he prepared to leave with the regiment. "The horse is lovely, yes, but it's the state that the horse is in that has my interest piqued. It's a well cared-for animal, and hopefully whoever is out there will suffer without it. In the meantime, we might be able to learn a bit more about what is going on by studying that horse." And Zeyba's body, but he didn't add that. The girl was young, and didn't need to be privy to the more gruesome details. "Try to get some rest tonight. You won't do your father, nor your pavilion any good by causing a scene. If I learn anything, I will let you and your cousin know."

And with that, he turned and left.

~

Midnight, several hours later...

Long after the sun had gone down and the land was blanketed in the cool dark of night, something crept through Endrykas that didn't belong. The Watchmen on duty, forced to shoulder the uncharacteristically chilly late Spring winds, had begun to feel largely uneasy. Each of their horses had suddenly begun acting strangely, fidgeting and unable to sleep. The webs placed in Endrykas however showed nothing out of the ordinary - any variety thief, human or animal, would be caught in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was just stress from the previous night's deaths.

On the border of Endrykas, close to where the regiment had brought in Zeyba's body, one of the Watchmen had fallen asleep on his duty. He sat on the ground, slumped over but clearly breathing. He was no novice: it was unusual that he was shirking on his duties, but there was no one around to slap him awake. Nearby, his Strider shuffled uneasily, pressing her muzzle into his hair and coating it in a fine sheen of slime, but it appeared to be no use. He was out.

If he were awake, he might have seen the figure standing several dozen yards from the edge of the city, out in the tall grasses. He was difficult to make out, except that nearly full moon poured its light into the fields. What looked like a head of hair reflected moon's glow brightly, and a human-shaped silhouette stood underneath it. It didn't appear to be moving, it was just there. Watching the city.

by **Edalene** on May 21st, 2011, 5:18 am

Eda kept her stare on the man, even as his eyes locked with hers, anger clear. Perhaps she had gone too far in insulting the Watch. She knew what they did was what kept Endrykas as safe as it was as it moved through the Sea, but she could not contain her frustration. A man was dead, her father was lost and they weren't doing anything. She had every right to be angry, and she happened to take that anger out on the representative of the faction that should be looking for him. Nevertheless, she flinched as he placed a heavy, calloused hand on her shoulder. Her eyes turned a little gentler, then, as if the physical contact had served to calm her. The weight of his hands felt manly, like her father was. She just wanted her dad.

Her face was desperate as he spoke, the calming words logically resonating with her, but her wanting more to be done. What was she supposed to do if her father was dead? She couldn't live with Yartree. Kayiri had all but disappeared on her, she nothing more than a fling, it seemed. Eldon was leaving Endrykas. Sam had Denen, and Eda would not begrudge that man anything. Eda had no one if her father was gone. Eda was alone. Hysteria bubbled up, hysteria which threatened to explode the moment he left her.

"Please! ..." she called, her voice trailing off as he turned to leave. When he looked back at her, her hands twisted with eachother, not knowing how to express in words this heart-freezing fear that lay within her. Suddenly she thought she knew how Eldon must have felt when his father lay dying - an suddenly and instantly she completely forgave him. "I just ..." She paused. "I need you to find him. I need him to come home." Hr eyes spoke of desperation, and the Watchman seemed to understand, though he stayed silent as he left Eda to her thoughts.

Worry was one of those things that no matter what you did, it could not be assuaged. Things like depression, one could sit out in the sun and feel the breeze and everything would be better. But worry ... nagged in the back of your brain like an itch you can't reach, raging until it is all consuming. Eda couldn't sleep.

The pavillion was silent. Yartree it seemed had every confidence in the Watchmen, and in Damie. He slept like a log. But he hadn't spoken to the Watchman, he hadn't seen his expression as he spoke of Zeyba's dead body and the strange horse. He hadn't heard what Eda heard. It was natural that he thought it was okay. But there was something strange about this, Eda knew. It wasn't just that Damie decided to run out in the middle of the night. It wasn't even that he was missing. It was just a feeling Eda felt, as she lay in her bedroll, tossing and turning, that she was being watched.

Not personally. But the entire of Endrykas seemed to be under some unblinking, malicious eye. The word's of the Watchman flashed through her head - "You won't do your father, or your pavillion, any good by making a scene," - but the feeling lingered. The itching of eyes on her rose, combined with the frustration that nothing was being done, added to that the worry for Damie, all of it rose and rose and rose until the top lifted and the nervous energy exploded out, and Eda was already running out of her pavillion in her nightshift, clutching her broadsword.

She was several paces before she even consciously realised that she had left Ayira behind, and she was pounding barefoot through the rows of tents, all in an effort to reach the area of land that Drykas adults scared their children away from. She was going to the Sea of Grass in nothing but her pale white shift, the moon full over her. She needed to get out of the tent city. She needed to feel like she was doing something. She ran and ran, and she reached the edge of the line of tents after several chimes, nothing but her heart pounding, her feet beating and her breath heavy as she ran. The guard at the edge of the tents where she came out was stone cold. Sleeping, like the rest of Endrykas was.

The grass was cool underneath her feet, the Sea silent and the grass waving slightly, everything serene. She ran several paces more, breathing hard, before she saw a figure, only his hair illuminated by the pale moon. "Father!" The word sprung from her lips like a deer startled, automatic to run, and she took a few steps before she realised that he was just standing, still and silent at the edge of Endrykas. He was not her father. His frame was too lean and young to be so, and if he was Damie, he would be at home with her. She clutched her broadsword tighter, struggling to see through the dark. She was only a few yards away from him. "Who are you?"

There was something innately wrong about this man.

by **Mycroft** on May 21st, 2011, 6:08 am

As Edalene pushed her way through the tall grasses, the figure suddenly, ever-so-slightly shifted. It almost appeared as if he had been woken from a sleep by her approach, and now the wind rustled through his illuminated hair as he watched her. Just as the night before, the winds carried an uncharacteristic late spring chill that rolled through the foliage. The crisp, moonlit air smelled of pollen and dew, and the sound of far off animals singing in the night had begun to drown out the hushed noises of the Endrykas goings-on. Coming this far away from the pavilions definitely separated her from her city.

Then she called out for her father - not to draw him near, but suggesting that the figure HIMSELF were her dad. The figure leaned back and tilted his head, his arms shifting in a way that wasn't quite discernable in the darkness. He said nothing, but let the girl clear up her confusion. As she ran closer to him, it seemed to slowly occur to her that she was clearly mistaken. Her posture took one of caution, and a long, dangerous glimmer caught the moonlight: the blade of a sword. Was she prepared to battle? Or just frightened?

"I'm Tarrow," he said to her in unaccented Pavi, his voice carrying easily across the short distance on this relatively silent night. His tone was insistent, as if she should have known it all along. Oddly, his voice was impeccably clear. There were no hoofbeats to drown him out, no city bustle to muffle him. Every sound was strangely audible, even the shuffling of the fabric he wore. This close, one might have been able to make out the dry, soft leather texture draped over his shoulder. "You thought I was your father?"

His voice was young and rich - he sounded no older than twenty, but there was a certain raspy quality, almost as if he had a cold. It aged his voice beyond his years. Tarrow took a step closer to her in the grasses, and a cool breeze brushed across him like the Sea of Grass itself wanted to touch him. "You don't recognize me, I'm sure," he said, more softly now, as the moon served to illuminate more features on his face, but it was still too difficult to make out. Whether he was someone from Endrykas or the dangerous outsider the Watchman had spoke of, it wasn't clear. "We met earlier, when the Watch brought me into Endrykas. You were carrying that sword. I thought you were going to take my head off with it."

by **Edalene** on May 21st, 2011, 6:53 am

Eda stayed silent while she waited for this man to introduce himself. Tarrow ... ? Who was Tarrow? She had never met him before, but in the way he looked and spoke, it seemed as if he took it as a personal affront that she did not know him. She felt immediately apologetic, and flushed beneath his gaze. His voice was husky, and sent chills down his spine, the voice not seeming to match the youthful body - though the darkness still cloaked much of his form. Confusion reigned in her body, overtaking much of her senses. Who was this Tarrow, and why was he standing here? And why was his voice so familiar?

She flushed at his words, feeling the need to excuse herself. His quiet voice carried over the rustling grass, and Eda hurried to correct her mistake. His shirt rustled as he spoke, though the rest of the Sea was quiet. A faint breeze tussled Eda's white shift, and the scene seemed idyllic under the silver moonlight. Like something Eda might hear at the Trough on a warm summer's night. "Yes ... my father ... he's not here, and I was hoping you were him, and I apologise if you were offended by that, I ..." Eda trailed off, not entirely sure why she was offering up such information to a complete stranger. Surely it was odd he was standing out in the Sea of Grass at night, alone, watching ... She immediately was set on edge at that thought, gripping her sword tighter. But he was so compelling.

Eda wanted to stumble back as he approached her, but the foreignness of Tarrow kept her rooted to the spot, as he murmured to her softly. She strained to see what she could of his face. That he was young, that much was clear, but the moon illuminated very little and Akajia's shadows strove to hide him from her. His voice and his silhouette was all she really had to go on, and though he looked and sounded young, there was a chill and age in his voice that sent shivers up the young Drykas' spine.

His words confused her. Of course she did not recognise him. Not only was he clothed in darkness, she was entirely sure she had never met a man with such a raspy voice as he. Her voice seemed soft and feminine in comparison as it chimed out to join his. "But ... no one came in with the Watch..." Bemusement was rife in her tone, confused as she was. She was certain no one but the Watch and that horse had come in, though she was entirely focused on the fact her father was not with them.

But ... the horse ... "You ... the horse?" Eda could not properly articulate the words, disbelieving as she was. Now that the thought occured to her, however, it did not seem so outrageous. Tebridiar had been a horse, though she had not seen her animal form. Her cheeks feeling flushed, she swallowed and tried to ask what weighed on her mind. "You're a Kelvic?"

The implications suddenly sank in, and words exploded from her mouth without the thoughts processing. As she rambled, she sprang forward towards the man. "Then... you were with my father! What happened to him? Do you know who took him? Is he alright? He has to be alright! Tell me, Tarrow, please!" She ran the few steps between them and grabbed the fabric on his shirt, close to his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. It never occured to Eda that this man shouldn't be trusted.