[South Woods]Slavers and Salutations(Aello)

[Archelon]

Darkness, comforting. Blackness, enshrouding. The sounds of silence, swaddling. As Aello fell into the grips of the unconscious her mind began to play about a far different place. A place of strange oddities, grayness. The place where the barriers of mind and memory, fiction and reality blended together to create... something spectacularly twisted and seemingly innocuous. It started with the image of a flower, and a young girl Aello herself didn't know, sitting amongst a meadow. The sweetest sense of daisies wafting through the air. There was the meadow, and herself. Herself as she was now, and then the girl who looked familiar. Laughing as she played within the place of solitude. And beyond the meadow, beyond the meadow was the mists, and through them ... who knew? All that was there now was the tinkling sound of a child's laughter, beckoning Aello towards it. It is said that when one is unconscious and dreaming one might vanish to Nysel's realm... but in other times does that truly happen? Could not the mind make it's own prison? Who knows? It was not for the young woman too know. Not now, not here. For now all she could think was the girl in the distance, the flowers of the meadow, and the breeze upon the misty winds. A breeze she'd inhale deeply and then scrunch up her nose at the faintest hint... of smoke and ashes. All that she would be left with for now was a cornucopia of nothing, and the faint feeling of dread creeping up her spine. For in this moment, the dreamer would keep on dreaming... oocA bit strange ? Make it stranger and paint me a picture :3 and we'll both see where this might go...

[Aello]

Aello's eyes followed the girl hungrily. She sought to devour her innocence. Every last portion of it, but there was no time, something else had caught her attention. Something else hung on the air, causing her nostrils to flare. Her eyes came away from the girl, and turned towards the sky. Strewn with an endless heap of fluffy, deep grey clouds. Tumultuous, glowing, spitting sparks. The girl's nose reddened as she sniffed the air. Angry, for Nysel had chosen to alter the mood of a dream, that until now, had seemed pleasant enough. There was something else there now. Something that could so easily overcome, and yet, Aello could not quite put her finger on it. Frustrated by her inability, the aurist's hands balled into fists, before she slowly lowered her gaze seeking the girl. But she was no longer there. All that remained where the clouds, strangely silent overhead, the smell, the breeze, the field of flowers. The girl stepped forward then, seeking to better come to understand the smell. Her boots trampled the flowers which swayed silently in the breeze. Dancing, undulating like the sea by her home. Or rather, the place that was once home. As she tread, her feet began to feel rather warm. The sensation crawled up her legs. It were as though a fire was caressing her. Then slowly, tearing away her skin. A searing pain shot through her as she looked down at the flowers, wondering what the source of such a feeling could be. But all she could see, as she watched her feet was a strange powder. It appeared white at first, and then a deep grey, only a few shades lighter than the clouds overhead. It seemed to drip off the petals, cling to the stem, and fall from the leaves in waves. For a long time, as she studied it, each time she kicked it up into the air, forming clouds, she couldn't come to place it. It was as though it were a dust. But it wasn't a dust; and it was then that she came to realize, that it was ash. Something was burning. Something was on fire. Frightened, Aello glanced up at the sky. The clouds, once grey, seemed to roll with fire. Red circled the black in waves. Billowing angrily as lightning escaped its lips. Thunderous booms began to reach her ears, causing the ground beneath her feet to tremble, as the first, fiery bits of blackened rain fell. Dotting the sea of flowers. Sending it aflame. The girl crouched in the grass. Helpless as she watched it eat her world. Helpless as the first pillar of smoke trailed up her nostrils. Circled her neck like a constrictor. Slowly, but surely, choking the life out of her. Squeezing the air out of her lungs. Until she fell. OOCSorry this isn't too hot, it's not the original, which got deleted when my comp crashed... again... You see turtlemon, it hates me.

[Archelon]

Charred Ash. Silent screaming. Pressure in one's chest. Fear. Fear is what began to plague this nightmare of Aello's as from the mists and the plague of oily clouds. What was fallen would rise up again to hear the sounds of children laughing. Ghostly images playing all about her. Sounds halfway familiar , yet halfway distant. As if heard and seen through a looking glass. In front of her at the edge of the grassy knoll fire scalded timbers began to rise again. Bit by bit, board by board, the lumber and timbers began to wedge themselves back into a semblance of shape as a house rebuilt itself from the ravages of memories. From the ravages of time. To the dreamer's ears, a girl's voice, a bit younger then her own would be heard laughing, laughing as its timbre echoed across the knell of the woman laying upon the dewgrass as rain began to fall. Cold rain, shards of ice, putting out the fires of the sky. All to the counterpoint of a child's laughter. A sweet vestige of happiness long lost.

[Aello]

Aello kept on walking forward tentatively. Easing into her step, leading with the toes, before allowing her heels to sink in. The ground still burned, her ears felt tickled by the unexpected sound of laughter. It unnerved her that it should be present in a time of pain. Of destruction, of deprivation in that no chance of remaining safe seemed present. And yet, she could not pace away, only towards the crudely constructed building. Her hand came forward. Aello peered through outstretched fingers at charred terrain as her feet glided forward on the wind. Tugged by their ethereal strings. Her eyes fixated on the door, her ears on the sounds the girl kept on producing. Her head cocked, there was something so familiar about it all, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She wanted to find out why that was. Slowly, Aello crept forward, shards of ice splitting her skin. Cutting off thin slices, as though she were but an orange to be peeled. Beads of crimson red stained the remnants of herself. She hadn't noticed them before. Or the pain, as the fire was quelled. It seemed peculiar to her, to leap from extremes. And yet, the loss of blood itself seemed so natural to her, like it was supposed to happen. Like it had purpose. Like it was being used to call something. With shallow breath, and thundering heart, Aello finally reached the door. Her bloodied hand, exposed in sections to the bone, came higher. Inched forward slowly, as though she were afraid something was about to jump out at her. Within a second, she was pushing it back, slowly. The hinges creaked as the door parted in solemn welcome to her. Again, she stepped forward into the darkness, as she took her first true look around. Only to have the only way out swing shut behind her...

[Archelon]

Blood dripped from the open wounds upon her arm. Splashing down upon burnt timber floos that was slowly coming back to the sheen of being polished. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. There was too much blood dripping upon the floor. An odd laughter of a childish girl echoed in her ears. And then there was the blood. The blood. Enough to form a puddle, a sheen of crimson red. Beautiful, the stuff of life and death. Death and life. Drip... Drop. Within the blood red puddle's surface, a reflections of flames could be seen. A shrouded sky, burning with ash. Drip... A pause, her wound wasn't closing... but the blood was slowing. How odd. ... Drop. Aello would stare at the puddle, oddly noting thin streamers of blood running sideways, defying the laws of physics as the blood streamed their way towards a forming table being etched back together before her eyes from scalded cinders, ash and splinters. At the table's foot it began to divide in twain. Each stream arcing towards a separate chair that slowly began to form the silhoette of figures. Their faces formless , yet from their stature it was apparent what they were. A boy, and a girl. Bloody mimicries of life, laughing at each other with the tepid demeanor of the dead and the voices of cherubs for all their damning presence. Both were laughing and the blood continued to drip. Their eyeless faces would turn to her, always laughing as an arm stretched out. A sense of pressure would feel as if it laid across her chest The boy would speak most of all repeating the same words. "Welcome back. Welcome back." "Oh she's almost ready, my dear brother. Almost ready to remember. Greet her well." The girl's voice stopped its words, and laughed uproariously... that damning laughter. It mocked her. A voice she recognized as familiar... for it was her own. The blood boy turned towards her as it rose now from the table. It's arms outstretched , ready to grasp her in a hug. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything. But it was like she was in a trance. Her eyes could not move, they were fixated upon the formless bloody pool that mimicked the boy's body. A fomr that was Coming closer. Closer. It's voice echoed itself, it's formless eyes damning her. "Welcome back... welcome back..." Damning sounds of a child. Damning sounds, and arms seeking to enwrap her. Damning house, damning nightmare. Perhaps she should scream, cry, or flee? But that would be up to her. For in mere moments, the dreamer might soon awaken from the terrors of this nightmare.

[Aello]

Aello's eyes danced over the bloody boy, his dripping hand, outstretched towards her. Droplets of blood lining th floor, a speckled trail leading up to her. With frigid muscles, she stood, eyes widening as her throat dried. Slowly, her lips parted, forming silent words. Remember? There was a pause. Come back? But what is to be returned to? she asked, as he seemed to come closer, and she to step back. To recede, into the shadows, towards the locked door. Her gaze sinking only a little, so as not to meet fluid less eyes. Ringed by motionless red. Aello could feel her breath catching within the confines of her throat as the space between the boy's fingers seemed to deepen. It seemed to her as though his form were melting, but she simply couldn't be sure. Her head was reeling. Her chest felt tight, and her heart kept on pounding faster and faster. She could hear it drumming out a death toll within the confines of her bony rib cage. Her flesh felt warmer. As though it too were dripping, and she were melting. What is this? What are you doing to me? Aello mouthed as the pool of blood spread. Her vision expanding, until everything was drawn out, into thin lines. Color sparsely scattered against the length of the field. Bile seemed to rise from the pit of her stomach, as her body boiled over. The room kept on spinning, faster and faster before the girl's very eyes. So much so, that it made her dizzy, and caused Aello's palms to start getting sweaty, and her body to begin to fluctuate between being unnaturally warm, to rather clammy. Swiftly, her vision stretched, like an accordion being pulled apart, or too little butter drawn across too much bread. "Stop," she whispered, before her world went black, and her head hung.

[Archelon]

As the woman in the dreams backed away the bloody monster reached towards her, and then above her as she fell into darkness. Drops of blood splashing down the poor girl's face. Shivers frolicked in a field of stirring senses, skin bubbled with the icy air, breath tasted cool droplets of moisture upon one's flesh, nostrils filled with the stench of unwashed bodies, and the pall odor of wastes that not even carrion birds would eat. Each droplet of water was a far cry from the warmth the living were supposed to have. "Welcome back." Those dreaded words were present here as well. Shuttered eyes opened the mereest of slits, Confusion, terror, and the blurred reality of the living soon came to replace the tepid peacefulness of the dead slumber of nightmares. She was back. Back in a place , no less terrifying then where she had been but much more present. Back amidst the tides of the forests, a camp of sorts... Curling up against the cold she tried to throw off the stupor of her tormented body, only to shirk away from a defiling touch of a hand coming down to strok her cheek. A hand, worn and calloused, backed by a mocking voice. Instincts reacted, but she had nothing to fight. Her limbs were shackled, her body laid bare to the elements. A far off cry of men came to her ears, as she curled up, trying to resist, to perhaps glean some small measure of warmth, "Eh Roka, Leave that stringy git alone. She's ain't no one but the bosses now."A timbre noted with slight disdain replied, "Hmhmhm... no she's just so pleasant. It's almost irresistable. Welcome back little one, welcome back." "Oh but, Milliardo. You shouldn't say such a thing about a young lady. She's just perfect. Sure a little flat chested, maybe a bit boyish with all that dirt and grime but I'm sure with a little training she'd be perfect." "Like a ten year old spawn of sunberth's streets can 'train' any girl.Mark my words. She's a dangerous one." "Oh, Milliardo, are you worried about lil' ol me?" "Nope, yar a born harlot and an actress! I reckon yer a damn spawned monster in disguise." "Ooh... maybe the boss would let me have you to train instead Milliardo?" The other voice muttered before the sound of phlegm being spat punctuated the tail end of his response."Tsk... Don't push your luck." "Grghurk." was all that could be said from parched lips as the ten year old lifted her newest 'prize' up. A fetid ladle of water was held up to her lips to drink as the child began to brush her hair back from Aello's head. The boyish flat chested prisoner began to choke and sputter as the child began to sing a strange eerie song. "We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow.But now alone I lie and weep beside the tree.By the tree that weeps with me; till my lover return to me. We lay my love and I beneath the weeping willow. A broken heart have I. Oh willow I die, oh willow I die." This was a harsh introduction to slavery's finer things in life. But what could she do? She was trapped. Alone... or was she? Above in the trees ringed round the camp, a pair of red glowing eyes watched. A clay brow furrowed in the rain as it took shelter in the cleft of tree branches."Rechaisikaitl! Deserving of this, yes? Deserving? Hmm... Judgement soon... Boyish-girl sllaver is Rechaisikaitl! Right? Only fitting to be slave to slavers of her own kind... right? Watch. Yesss... watch wait and see.." A tiny hand would grasp the nearest branch to draw it aside. "Three days. Three days I've waited to see while foolish human was asleep. Three days... I'll know soon. Know soon if she has to die..."

[Aello]

Aello's lips brushed the end of the ladle. It was stone cold, and the water it contained, scalding hot. As though they were trying to burn her innards as it trickled its way down, so she'd lose her voice. So she couldn't scream. Tell of their blasphemy, their lack of respect for human life, for her. So she couldn't call for help out of what bound her. Not that it mattered, for surely, no other human being was nearby to hear the call, and the only ones that might were the wretched pycons, who wanted her dead anyway. So what use was it to have it? Struggling against the chains, her eyes heavy both from want of sleep, and a desire to ward away the darker things that roamed the earth, Aello drank. Only to cough and allow the majority to spill from the ends of her mouth. Brackish water slipped down her drying skin. The pallor cast by the moon. It seemed to sizzle as it ran off, into the wild. Toying with the dirt until it became mud, slithering down fraying fronds of green and brown tinted grass, as though it were a snake. Sometimes settling, like a bug on a log. "Enough," Aello growled, once her body had rid itself of the rest of the filth through a fit of a coughs. "No more," she whispered as her body shuddered against the cold. The way she was exposed; a sort of twisted retribution for having delved into so many auras, gleaning what she could to use to her advantage, when not a single soul knew what she sought. That she had even entered the outer shell of their feeble minds; picking away the pieces, various items from the rubbish heap, until she could find so much as a shard of gold. "You will provide nothing else with your gnarled hands," Aello hissed. "Nothing else will spill from the calluses when there is no want, no need." There was a pause. "Such a shame a foolish little girl would fall into such a line of work. The young, pure, and supposedly tender-hearted as your lot is supposed to be..." Aello's voice trailed off for quite some time. Yes, isn't it a shame that she is going to die by my blade? The one that always returns, if only given the time to do so. Inwardly, Aello chuckled to herself. No mercy shall be shown to her for it. Not when she alines herself with filth. No, no mercy at all. She shall die with the rest of them. Be delivered directly into the arms of Dira. To suffer for all eternity it should seem, for tormenting one of her own. Her thoughts came to a grinding halt as the girl's fingertips brushed even more hair away from her features, exposing the entirety of her forehead. A servant... "Pity," Aello whispered. For she shall be the first to die. Followed by the one they refer to as their boss. The girl mused, surely, he can't be tougher than that petching thing that pushed me down a bloody hill. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, reflecting all of Zintila's silver stars, even bound, this should be an easy fight, in comparison to that. And when their bodies line this realm in a silent grave, who will be there but the wolves and other forest creatures to bury them?

[Archelon]

"Pity?" the girl asked with wide brown eyes. A sorrowful look on her face. "Why would anyone pity Roka? Roka just is making friends like Tenendrake and Milliardo. But Masta' Creyes never lets me keep any friends. They all go away so soon." The girl's brow furrowed as she took a dry towel and dabbed Aello's body with the cloth, cleaning her wounds as she hummed in a matter of of a child. A strange demented, yet seemingly brain damaged child. Over the course of Aello's care the cloth made its way to her arms where her wrists were chafed from lying three days in chains. Aello would flinch a little as the moist towel passed over the puckered skin. Skin which seemed... odd. In fact all her skin seemed odd. The scratches seemed to be tended rather well. Mending as they were at a faster rate. "Oh dear, my new friend is hurt a little.Even if I cared for her that entire time and changed the dresses of her bandages." The poor girl pouted as she looked towards the horizon, the sun was to come up soon. "I'll kiss it all better soon, I promise. So what's my new friend's name?" The girl’s quess would look to her as if expecting Aello to answer. Sadly she’d only receive only a hard, dead look that was as cold as an icy dagger before aello turned away. The look that may have been deadly if she had even the slightest ounce of hypnotic power to back it up. Whatever the case, The girl seemed to withdraw a bit into herself a little, frowning before laying down beside Aello to wrap her arms around it. "Oh don't be like that. I've been keeping you warm these past cold nights with hugs. They're not the special hugs that Creyes' demands as a friend, I don't really like those." ”We're hardly friends, considering I'm bound to your side.” Aello growled. "Oh, I know. I'm such a fool. But Masta Creyes says its the only way to make friends, and Masta Creyes is always right. That's what Milliardo and Tenendrake say at least." Aello would not heed the girl's words and rolled her eyes to look away. The girl was oblivious though, or perhaps to naïve to know. No matter how good of an actress in the forests."You know, I did have a friend once. But she ran away. I tried to run with her but... but..." The girl pressed herself against Aello as if shivering from some lost memory. The stunned woman was almost foolish here, for if she had the wits perhaps she could gain a little bit more information of who she was up against. But perhaps she didn't care? Whatever the case, Aello would take on an aura of silence and try to move away. The struggling child was looking for some compassion and yet none would be had from the social recluse that was Aello. The archer would simply scoot away and remain silent. As if the very closeness of someone else's emotional turmoil was too much to be comfortable. "She was someone who came back though later... after I was captured and beaten. She came back about just after the time we brought you in, and even Masta' Creyes didn't try to get her back as a friend. Said she was here to buy a certain someone... just looked at me and said to tend to you. So I did. I did what my friend said to do. She said I could be your friend perhaps as well... that perhaps this time she'd take me. Said I should go with her to a funny named place. A real funny named place that started with a "R" or sometin'" “lot of good friends you've got.” Aello would respond sarcastically as she rolled her eyes again, and scooted a little farther away. Or at least she scooted as far away as the chains on her wrists would let her. Which wasn’t much. The girl's face held a strange half scowl of frustration, "Well aren't you miss highbrow? Scared of even trying to talk? Anyway, this friend came back and doesn't want just me, she wants you to... the boss is still deciding if I’ts worth it. She says she'll pay a lot of gold." “Eh what a surprise?” "I don't know though... she called herself a funny name this time.” “I don’t know.” “Maybe you know the name?"[/b] Aello would simply turn her head and wait for the name, staring at the girl who stared back. The girl pondered and looked out over the fire at Milliardo and the rest of the slaver's by the fire. Including a rather large akalak, named tenendrake who's anchor was not far behind. Though Aello's chains would not allow her to see it the man possessed a rather blood stained dagger , using it now as a plinking tool to work a sandal thong. Coming to a decision of sorts the girl would nod to herself and lean down lean down, whispering in Aello's ear. [color=tan]"She said her names was Stryfe, and called herself 'Ebbena' or sometin. Tell you the truth she kind of scares me." Aello would shudder at the mention of the 'friends' name and a small bit of moisture would fall on her face as the situation had taken another spin on things. The girl was crying. "She's scary, I don't want to go with her. I don't want to stay here either. I don't wanta but Masta' Creyes won't let me leave. Says I'm too 'valuable." Once again the woman would say nothing as her body tensed. The girl was practically in tears by now. "Says it’s been that way ever since he pulled me from the sea." Aello's brow would furrow in regards to the servant’s or rather, slave’s words. "pulled you from the sea?" Her question was little more than a whisper. Just words floating silently on dense air. Even though Aello wasn't the most talkative, right now, even chained as she was, she tensed as she was all the girl had here to confess her feelings too. Feelings of despair would flash upon the young girl's face. But that wasn't the only thing which flashed either. As the pair had talked, even if it was raining the time of sunrise had come. As the child looked at her as a strange change came over the girl. Her visage remained much the same save for her body lengthening to that of an age close to Aello's in height and demeanor as the young girls form 'developed' almost instantly. Her face became a little older as well, but in them seemed a younger sort of innocence that seemed to replace her expression as a pair of horns lengthened from her scalp. ”Yep, pulled me from the sea he did.” "So you are..." the captive would whisper. Not so sure how astonished she felt anymore. The girl was an ethfael, and in a manner of their kind she solemnly nodded. []"You're still hurt. I should help that." With those words the young girl/woman would reach once again down the length of Aello's body. Uncaring for the woman's modesty as each small wound was touched once and healed by a day's worth of time. Aello would gasp, her eyes widening. Not having known of their kind's power. She wondered if her mind had been muddled, thrown into sheer madness. If she were simply imagining, falling on false hope. Even her chafed wrists were healed a little before the girl plopped down wearily beside her sniffling as she drew close to her to share Aello’s warmth. It was as if the notion of helping Aello’s wounds had somehow cost her , making her fatigued with no sun out to warm her bones. "That Ebenna was here with me in a cage last season. She called it fall when she escaped. I don't know what fall is. But Creyes said he fished me in summer. I don't know what that means. I just want a friend to stay awhile so I don't have to bear this all alone." The girl would lapse into silence, just silently allowing the tears to roll down her cheeks as she pondered and waited. It would be awhile, perhaps a day or so before Aello had her strength back after three days asleep. Even with the girl’s ministrations to help her. But that only mattered if the situation did not become desperate, or if two burning eyes of red watching from above listened in on the young women's conversation and came to the most dire of decisions. For once though, that fury was stalled as the creature blinked as if in thought. Still hidden from those far below. Perhaps he would give these two time. Time to see if they were truly blood betrayers like the rest of the ilk of this camp. Time to see if they were to be granted reprieve from Dira's embrace this day or another day soon. One thing he did know. By the time this was done. Every slaver would be dead, it only remained to see the means, by his works, or his poisons. Soon he would have to decide if he should dose the slave pen the strange penmates were in. There were other slave pens around as well. More mercenaries around the morning fire. How many of those slaves should receive a bit of mercy, freedom from their chained and wretched existence? How many of the slavers should be rendered unto Dira. Should the damsel who invaded his pyve's home be made ready for the journey as well? For once, he'd seen a small shred of evidence that she might receive a bit of mercy. But for those to recieve mercy, they had to know who were worthy enough to bestow that same mercy upon as well... what would they do? What twisting thread of uncertainties would be crossed? Could a divide of an innocent ever be regained when that innocent did not know the part they played? Or were their actions still damnable to death? The small little being with red glowing eyes amidst the treetops smiled for the first time in his three day vigil over the interloper. Taking hope that he might see the answers to the many questions in his mind as the woman below might be brought to ponder if life was a gift, or a curse for those in her situation.

[Aello]

"It sounds like she was once a slave to your master. One who wiggled out of her shackles, miraculously, and fled to darker lands," there was a pause as Aello licked her parched lips. Her drying tongue running over the splits; the crackles, where caked blood had once been. Could that damned Kiochi have had anything to do with that? she wondered, as she looked up at the sky, scarcely blinking now that it was making its transition from one state to the next. "Past the crashing of the leaves. Autumn. That's what last season entailed- the time when the trees shed their adornments. Their burdens." For a time Aello fell silent. "He must have found you in the water," she whispered, as she turned a little farther away from the strange girl. Her head twisting into her shackled wrists, as though they were a protective bed upon which she could rest her head. The flowing brown waves that lined her pale skin. As though if she only closed her eyes, she could picture herself in the finest of beds, and sleep soundly this night. Soon awakening from the nightmare that had befallen her. "Taken you because he knew you were different. Of use to him in that you were young, and naive. So easily molded into whatever he needed you to be," Aello whispered, her voice betraying her disgust. Frustrated by the situation, and in need to simply shut it out, tune it out, she closed her eyes. "You're just like the rest of us child. A slave. You work for your master, I work for mine. Your master works for another, who must serve someone else himself. All the way up to the ranks of the divine. We all serve. We all fail to truly see. To think. Pitiful lot that we are," she spat. "If only we bothered to think for ourselves, to take in our surroundings, perhaps we could be something more. Something other than blind followers." Aello paused. "It's not pleasant to think of oneself in that manner. Blindly following a cause." A tear trickled down her face. "Lady death, have I already failed you?" she whispered, as her body crumpled into her wrists, and she fought desperately for the sweet release of a dreamless slumber.