[Flashback] A Narrow Escape (Rayage)

[Zephyril]

30th of Fall, 323 AV Wind rolled steadily over the never ending plains, undisturbed as though it would remain a constant forever. It seemed peaceful, at least for the moment. Zephyril thanked every god he could think of for this quiet moment, a moment where he had not yet had his head ripped off by a glassbeak or some other terrifying monster. his curly brown hair whipped to the side as he made his way to the large stone, the distance growing shorter, yet so much further than he had anticipated. The man that trudged slowly through the grass was only Twenty-nine. Twenty-nine, yet at this moment he appeared to be in his forties or fifties. His once boyish face was ghastly pale, the skin on his face drooping as though it were about to fall off. His clothes were torn up every which way, the right sleeve of his shirt singed off, revealing the large burn stretching from his shoulder down to his elbow. His skin looked like it was peeling off. This body wouldn't last much longer. I'm going to kill that freaking bastard, he thought, every step he made fueled by rage. He remembered vividly as he ran from his prison, as his former master cursed loudly when he only grazed Zephyril with the ball of fire he had sent his way. He remembered the way the man walked back inside the house, deciding not to waste his energy since he knew Zephyril had no chance of surviving in the wilderness. As he arrived at the base of the megalith, Zephyril sat heavily on the side that protected him from the wind. He let out large sigh of relief, smiling in his triumph on having reached the cursed rock before dying. He knew his shallow breathing wasn't necessary, but the instinct was still there. He wanted to go to sleep, just because he knew that the amount of energy his body had just exerted should require it. He stretched out his legs and sat there for a short time, staring down the empty trail. I'm probably still going to die here, he thought, suddenly apathetic about his fate.

[Rayage]

It had been quite some time since the mage had last visited this place, which happened to be nowhere in particular. These fields of grass endless to the eye formed a green ocean that seemed deeper than the seas. Although the grass was tall and danger high in this area this one kept walking, strutting through the grass blissfully or seemingly so, of the dangers that could lie in wait for him. Though when traveling he didn’t need to remind himself of the dangers no, he would instead remind himself of his goals and just how important further research was. Knowledge outweighed any threat of danger. Ray himself seemed just as un-orderly as he always was. His mostly black cloak seemed to have gotten a few more multicolored patches sewn within it, and still with the disguise of color the age of the clothes was apparent, the black seemed just a bit lighter as everything fades, even the deepest black, with time. His face was sunken, dull, and dry. The black hair on his head was not so gracefully falling out in clumps leaving bold spots here and there that were impossible to cover up. Though he could have worn a wig he thought such things as appearance trivial and therefor refuses to stoop to such levels. He was an Alchemist after all and he knew more than anyone, by the very craft of his art, looks cannot give credit to anything but beauty. All this time he had seemed to be headed, traveling, in some random way. A direction given by the wind was the path that he seemed to follow. He was, as of right now, a wanderer; one in search of something more and the secrets of both life and death. For it was quite obvious that through death comes life, and vice versa. Though the use of such secrets would be for his own game, his betterment of everything that he considers weak and worthless, this, in reality, would mean the shaping of a whole new world. There was just so much wrong with this one. It was so imperfect. Lost in thought he kept on walking, planning, and just thinking on his various theories and his next experiment. So much to be done and so little time; sometimes it was hard to believe that five hundred years as already passes and he has yet to make a homunculus. That fact saddened him, but also made his resolve more adamant. He was going to create one before the century was over. If he were to be looked in the eyes at the moment it would be known to even the dullest of people that he was lost in thought, his eyes glazed over in his visions and he was, for all practical purposes, in his own head. A very scary place indeed. Thought being broke as he reached a great monument, a megalith, and looked up to observe it. Even when lost in thought he was not stupid enough to be completely absorbed in his world of ideas and theory. No, he was the master of his body, mind, and soul not his thoughts or the inner world of his mind. Sighing a little he placed a hand on the stone, it was cold in the fall air. ”You just sit here all day. It must be interesting what you see.” his hand moved down the stone until eventually it back by his side. This was a great stone indeed, but it held little interest to him. With that said he began his journey again towards the destination unknown, but he knew that the wind would lead him to where he needed to be. It was a fun game to him, following the wind. It added variety to where he went and what would happen. He had come to some interesting places based on where the wind blew. Though this time was a bit different than the other times and as the wind blew again against his back he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye a person pressed against the great megalith using it as a shield against the wind. Turning the nuit set his eyes upon the other and his rather ruffed up appearance, ”My, my,” he said in a tone of voice that almost seemed mocking, ”You look like you’re in the need of some assistance.” his cold dead eyes would meet the others, ”You know, it’s been quite a while since I’ve run into another nuit while traveling like this.” he smiled as if amused, his rotted teeth showing the pleasure that this situation was giving him. Normally he wouldn’t bother with interacting with another nuit unless he was confronted first, but this time was different. The other seemed in no shape to fight, and therefore could provide only a nuance of a threat. Though he had little combat experience he was sure he could take him if he so desired, or even was lashed out upon. He laughed a little, there he goes expecting the worst out of everyone, but his distrust of nuit didn’t steam out of thin air.

[Zephyril]

His brown eyes shot up at the voice and he scrambled up to his feet frantically, stiffening up against the colossal rock. He eyed the man up and down. It was another Nuit, cursed just as he was. What were the chances that the only person who could save him in this grassy desert was another person who should've died a long time ago? He was ready to beg and plead for any passerby to help him, but upon seeing his possible savior, he could only feel resentment and fear. "I'm fine," He answered through clenched teeth, shaking visibly. The man didn't seem to really care about his state, anyway. His mocking aura reminded him of the very same despicable person who was responsible for destroying Zephyril's life in the first place. He clenched his burnt arm, the feeling of pain searing throughout his body. Averting his eyes from the Nuit, he reluctantly thought about asking for his help. He would die otherwise, and this didn't seem like a person who would think twice. He still didn't want to die. Despite everything, the thought of death still taunted him, urged him to find a way to get out of his predicament. Reluctantly, his eyes traveled to meet the stranger's once more. "What would you want in return?" There was no way that this man was a believer of Solidarity. The question was, what could this man possibly want from what was pretty much just a walking corpse at this point?

[Rayage]

Ray seemed all too amused by the others reactions. His cold, calculating, almost seemingly all-seeing eyes watched the nuit if just a little too closely. In reality he was and what he was seeing was all too interesting, almost smile-inducing, but he would try his hardest to hide his humor from the other that was in obvious pain. Though, alas, his faint smile would betray him and show the nuit just how seriously he was taking the matter at hand. After hearing the response he got and sensing the smile on his face he was quick to remove it and crossing his arms he stared at him even more. His eyes shifting towards the clearly visible burned arm of his. "Now, now," he started in again, "You dont look fine to me." he forced a sly smile back. People were so funny when they got defensive. It was almost cute. Seeing the eyes break away from him Ray frowned, "You know, that hurts." he said placing a hand on his chest trying to act offended by the strangers coldness. Though the action was more than that. With it, the arm movement and his eyes fixed on the subject, his subject, the nuit he went to incite a small feeling of guilt, and concealed within his words were small traces of djed meant to put what he had said in the back of the strangers mind. All of this however was to bring about and force a 'civil' conversation between the two. If the other would feel guilty towards his actions maybe he would treat Ray with just an ounce more of respect, or it could go the other way around. Allowing the stranger to think, allowing his magic to sink in, he waited for a response and what he got was quite unexpected. It almost brought a laugh into existence, "My dear boy, what do I want?" he sounded shocked that he would ask that question. Giving a light laugh, the sound equivalent to a dry wheezing noise, he smiled at him, "That is simple." he allowed his words to die and be overtaken with silence before he continued, "I want nothing right now, but" he raised a single finger and waved it like it was some kind of flag, "I ask that if I require assistance in the future you will come to my aid no matter the predicament." he grinned, his words laced once more with the poison influence of his djed. The aim this time to sink the conditions of his help into the others subconscious mind as to make him not forget or have trouble forgetting in time. "So, what do you say?" he asked as he slowly reached his hand out towards the others taking a step forward to prevent the injured man from having to move too much, "Do we have ourselves a deal? A favor now for a favor later?" The terms seemed sound with him. Ray rather liked this agreement they had going on, but just in case the other was having doubts he would put on last little influence on him, attempting to invoke a feeling of satisfaction within his own mind. A sly, devious, devil-like smile would creep up on the nuits face as he would watch to see if any of his magic was working.

[Zephyril]

Great. Not only was his life in the hands of a Nuit, but he also happened to be cheeky as hell. His sarcasm seeped through his teeth as though he wouldn't shut up even if his own life was in peril. Zephyril grimaced at his words, his nose wrinkling both from pain and revulsion. Still, for some reason he couldn't bring himself to insult the man, as though he'd feel a misplaced sense of remorse if he would. He brought his eyes back up to meet his as the Nuit before him spoke as if his words were a god's. Then he spoke words that didn't merely annoy Zephyril. "... you will come to my aid no matter the predicament." The words repeated themselves in his mind, taking a few moments to sink in. He said a few things afterwards, but he couldn't quite hear it. The strange feeling of guilt he had felt earlier was overridden by nostalgia, a sense of déjà vu overcame him as he remembered his former master asking for a similar 'favor'. For a moment his dilated brown eyes flared and Zephyril took a threatening step closer to the man and swung his right fist over his shoulder, aimed directly at his face. It was only when he went through with the act that he realized how sluggish, and weak his movements were. Even if he did connect with his adversary's face, it would have little to no effect. His mind was filled with rage a moment earlier, but it was the split second in which he lunged at the man where he had just a small moment of clarity. Though he would receive a good amount of satisfaction from punching him, he had most likely just issued his own death sentence.