Quest [Regional Quest] Invocation

[Alses]

OOCJust a courtesy note: the auristics was agreed with Elysium via PM .

So many, so many – the clearing exploded into phantom radiance, weaving a complex lightshow all around as more and more people poured into the little gap in the forest. Presumably, they had all been drawn by some outside agency; this place wasn't special or remarkable in any way, for one, and for another, no-one looked very much like the woodsmen and farmers who normally had business in the Peaks, providing for the city's continued existence.

Crouched down beside the woman, Alses' senses probed and prodded at her raggedy aura. She tasted metal on her tongue: steel, perhaps, not the warm bronze-copper of blood, heard the snap and race of cloth and leather in the wind, watched the sparkling skeins and webworks of knowledge unfurl before her demanding eyes. Lean – too lean, as most people were these days, their bodies continually, grumblingly hungry – and yet, otherwise, surprisingly healthy. There were none of the queasy signs of sickness there, no malevolence or wasting tendrils eating away at the flare of her soul...but there was, perhaps, something unusual there: a second impression, no more than a wavering ghost, there and gone in an instant and then there again, dancing and flickering on the very edge of what she could perceive, wrapped in blood and warmth and mantled in the almost overpowering blaze of the main aura.

From behind, a voice, heavy and dull, as though through water and across a great distance. A threat – but an empty one, his aura shivering with the hollowness of false bravado, fear singing its siren silver song in contrast to his actions. “I am armed and you are terrified,” she replied coolly, not turning. “I came here to help this one, not hurt her. Now-”

But she got no further, not even to reply to the medical advice someone else had given her, for at that point Eyaire shot bolt upright, a strangled scream dying in her throat even as fear rang jangling bells in Alses' brain and Eyaire's aura whipped itself into a whirling maelstrom of confused and conflicting feelings and impressions.

“Calm yourself, Eyaire the Wildling,” Alses murmured, pitching her voice soft and low, just as Doctor Hellebore had done for her the summer past. It had calmed her then – at least when she'd been in a lucid enough state to appreciate it – so perhaps it would help here. “I go by Sela.” She cast a glance back towards the Shinya – that was where she knew the aura from! Protector Gavima, of course, with the mantle of the Shinya guard drawn close about the person she'd come to know through their lessons. Austere and decisive now, almost to the point of recklessness on occasion, and fanatically devoted to the safety of the city. A faint smile touched her distant features as a thought occurred – wherever trouble was, Protector Gavima was not far behind. “As our friend the Shinya guardsman said, we dreamed of you and your companions, out here in the Misty Peaks. We're not far from Lhavit; that's how we all came to you so quickly.”

Eyaire stood – unsteadily – and Alses rose with her, shaking her head sharply in the negative. There had been an odd twist to Eyaire's phrase: 'He's had all of us' which she didn't like, even if she couldn't quite fathom the meaning behind it, or that ghostly second aura. Besides which, the woman was exhausted and at the end of her tether, emotionally and physically. “We should get you safely to the city, and rouse the guards to comb the Peaks,” she replied, echoing the Lethaefal behind her. She didn't dare turn, not yet, not so unprepared, an imperfect mortal next to the celestial glory of one of her cousins under the auspices of Leth. There was no comparison, and it sent spears of jagged jealousy through every fibre of her being. Even the caress of her aura – and it was so easy to pick out an Ethaefal, Synaborn or Lethaefal, like that - set her teeth on edge. “This place is dangerous enough when you're rested and well.”

She cocked an ear to Lu's little speech and then continued quietly: “See? These people will start the search for your friends. Better you're safe on Lhavit's peaks than stumbling around out here – I'm sure your friends would rather know you were away from your hunter than still his prey.”

Alses looked around, seeing people starting to move, checking weaponry and glaring impressively into what was – to them – the darkness. “A moment, Shinya,” she called, remembering at the last moment not to use his name. Better he didn't associate this corpse-form with his Synaborn teacher, now or ever.

“If you will give me a few moments, you won't have to search – or at least, not so much.”

Eyes closed, breathing slow and steady, she opened the mental floodgates on her reserves and let the shimmering djed pour into the engines of synchrony that drove all of her skill. Deeper she began to sink, but a mental command stopped the glittering evolution of the deepest secrets of this place and instead turned her faculties towards expansion, to the extension of her personal djed out into the more distant parts of the world, granting scope at the expense of detail – but detail wasn't necessary. Instead of weaving tendrils that plunged and interwove into the sleeting ambient djed, spears, an arcing wave of them that unfurled a shimmering curtain stretching out into the distance, skewering far-off currents, interweaving and interlocking with them, establishing the sympathetic link before fading away under a fresh barrage, pressing outwards, further, further.

Her motionless form showed few outward signs of the strain, but as time went on pearls of perspiration popped into existence on her forehead and wherever scales marred the blank whiteness of her skin. Most of that was under her robes, however, and in the colour-stealing moonlight it would be quite difficult to see the tyrian silk turn a darker shade of black.

The mean stab of a headache took away her breath and her concentration wavered, the latest flight of djed spears splintering into nothing, leaving only the interleaved webwork of her previous efforts, now supported by the pressures of the ambient and leaving her reserves – what was left of them, anyway - free to drive the complex, abstract comprehensions of all the information that would come flooding in.

Excising the auras of trees and plants and all the other rubbish was easy – the merest flicker of mental thought brought about inclusion in her mental filters, already well-established from the walk down from Lhavit itself. The grandest symphony in green, a million million impressions of greenwood and emerald life, died a-borning as she ruthlessly funnelled and directed the welter of impressions. She was haemorrhaging djed; maintaining that level of synchrony across such a broad area for any real length of time was beyond all but the real masters of auristics, and she wasn't there yet. That didn't mean, however, she couldn't peek over the parapet and steal some of their power, at least for a little while.

'Where are you?' her thoughts chimed, in time with the pulsating beat of her heart. 'Living, fearful, crashing through the unknown, leaving a trail of disturbed things in your wake...'

Nothing, and then, suddenly, out of the murk, a lighthouse-flare that burst across her consciousness and drew her focus – and then another, in completely the opposite direction, both of them getting further and further away.

She raised an arm, pointing deeper into the Peaks and the Unforgiving beyond them. “Mark that course, Shinya, by stars or whatever signs you use to navigate by. Not far, but getting further away with every chime, fearful and exhausted, crashing through the forests of the valleys, away from the exposed mountainsides. Still in the tame peaks, but heading right for the true Unforgiving.”

A pause, and then she turned once more, as though on a turntable, eyes distant and blank, unseeing – or perhaps seeing more than anyone else. To anyone with the Sight, even to a novice, though, the blaze of her djed was everywhere, headily potent and spread wide, her form a bonfire of magic even as her reserves dropped lower and lower, towards the crucial tipping point.

Her hand rose again though, steady as a rock, indicating another direction. “And the other follows this line, curving around the spine of the mountains over there. She is looking for a bolt-hole, perhaps, zigging and zagging through the trees and across the rocks and back again. Be quick. I cannot find the hunters – too far from me - but their trails crisscross the Peaks.”

With a hoarse and strangled noise midway between a retch and a cry, the knife-blade of her thought crashed down on the greedy tendrils of djed suckling at her reserves, severing them in great swathes, freeing her and the ambient currents she'd ruthlessly interrogated. Shaking like a leaf in the cold night air, drenched in sweat and with the weary wobbliness of someone who'd expended a great deal of energy very quickly, she sagged in on herself, seeming smaller even than her already-slight form, though she remained standing.

[Alduin]

Alduin took into account the various things that had occurred in a short amount of time. Beginning with the strange meeting of different individuals whom had seen the girl he had seen in his dreams. What sorcery was this? They had all been given the same vision. But as the girl explained who she was it became even more confusing. Alduin accounted the people who arrived in his head but the Wildling Eyaire stood out most to him. She had a foreign radiance to her that he had been unaccustomed too. The Shinya Gavima had given his theory on what happened. It made sense. But the Ethaefel who went by Sela, suggested they take her to safety and be in search for the other companion who was in the dream. Alduin agreed as he added, "I will go with her. I am a wizard, so I can provide protection. I do not think our hunter will let her escape so easily. I will return immediately once she is safe. We can leave whenever you are ready Eyaire." He came closer to them as his armor bustled slightly. "By the way the name is Alduin. Alduin Ancienti."

[Mara]

The distinctive method of crisis management emerged like a well transcribed text book. The resilient and the fearful made themselves known, raising their voices to be heard and tailed with demands and well-rehearsed advice. He dared not saunter out of the shadow, instead, smearing into the moonlit canvas with the elegance of a nascent wallflower. He was provoked even more as the slumbering victim rose from her spell with a tremor of fear that carried along the crest of the stuffy mountain air, pooling bile in his gut. He swallowed the anxiety that had become infectious, and was observable even under the purpling rind powdering the cross of her gauntly girlish features.

Hands resolutely shunted within his pockets, and a dampened lip drug between the vice of jagged fangs held him still as she unobtrusively reminisced some indications of evidence. They were small crumbs that seemed to be important to him alone. The girl, Eyaire as she would be known, was correct and eerily so in her prediction. He, as well, had assumed the Symenestra to be young, either on his first harvesting, or drunk on the cockiness of a recently fruitful voyage. Most never took the chance of rounding an assemblage of surrogates, especially not with force. His recollection was, most arrived on the sweet whims of seduction and luxurious promises to sit out their time, and inevitable death sentence, in their silk sheathed prison cells. Though it was not uncommon to have some arriving worse for wear and less than willing to participate, still it was at greatest: two, even then it was risky with such delicate skeletons. Marvasa knew all too well the will of a vehement would-be surrogate, the memory of which was branded into his memory along with the unsightly staple of what would follow when he longed to aid such an aggrieved creature.

He searched for comfort amid the stranger's aspects. The Shinya guard he was sure would be his largest danger if he presumed him to be one of the misplaced companions of the Symenestra they hunted. He shied away from his gaze, but he appeared less interested in his attendance in any case. It would be foolish to underestimate his knowledge of the inhabitants of the city he cherished so well, and the medic had been far from unnoticed when first arriving at the city's gates. Though he was troubled with what would become of their self-proclaimed prey if and when he was caught. What interrogation could a man such as this afford? What he knew of the Shinya guard was muddled stories and susurrated vows. It was not much, and certainly not enough to cast judgment of his own.

The flaxen haired woman, compelling and sure of herself, seemed more open to reason if problems arose. Though she puzzled him, her elegant phrases and an unseen ripple about her only arose more questions. She was soothing to the girl in an unobtrusive manner that incongruously stirred him, and then proceeded to take unusual measures. He watched her, rather intently. Her concentration constructed a statuesque allusion of what she once was, exhausting her in only the subtlest of ways.

The other two men were set upright, closer to him, but one whom had not spoken before offered to chaperon the battered female to the city. A guardian, with magic, another mystifying postulation he had far too little familiarity with to trust. "Whoever is transporting her back to the city should take her to the Catholicon. Allesia will care for her." his speech was undemanding, with less poise than when he had at first articulated, but loud enough to be overheard by those around. "Explain to her the situation, and tell her there will be more coming." his words were laced with acrimonious compunction, even in knowing the appropriate action to take; it made it no easier to coerce the words up past the constraint of his vocal cords.

He twisted toward Eyaire, jaws contorting into a rigid display of pressing lips in endeavor of a smile, "Do not be afraid, she is a kind woman, most of Lhavit trusts their lives with her." The medic knew it would make little sense to her at the time, but he hoped she would remember his comfort, a supposed unbiased stranger, as she set eyes upon the golden colored irises and black trimmed nails of his employer. Though Allesia Amaryllis was well acquainted with the stigma of her birth, much as he had been; there would be no ill-words or injured feelings.

At last he tugged toward the face he had been evading, holding his breath until he could allow himself the solace of a toothed inhale in the diminutive familiarity. He ambled toward her, a pouring gait of intent before stopping just aside the shoulder of the timorous Lethaefal. He leaned in, prudently, catching her eye in the dim iridescence of her preferential god. He assumed she would stumble upon the spectacle of his blood filled rings, but he hoped she would hold her tongue and recognize him. What sentimentality their meeting had meant, it was progress and was at the slightest far from hostile. "Albireo," regret stained his murmur, troubled by bearing down on her already apprehensive being, especially by what they all now knew of the current situation. A whispered tone, he decided, would be applicable, "I have this ointment that may help to numb her pain. I have a vial with enough for her and the other two. It's Krolar poultice, a balm made of bark and wildflowers. She must smear a small amount onto the injury, at least until she can have a better examination," the melody of faint Vani accented his choice phrases, and felt warm upon his tongue. "I don't want to frighten her any further after what she has been put through." he paused casting a sideward glace at Sela, and the Shinya guard. "Do you mind offering it to her?"

From within his pocket he drew a small rounded wood case, and let it rest centered upon his palm. He extended his hand sheepishly, offering her the salve. "You know I only hope to help."

He had only finished as Sela buckled, the wear of whatever action she had taken to allow her such an erudite perception of where to go, now crumpled agony into her brow, but left her upright. Without deliberation, he went to her, the same molten stride as he had approached Albireo. The half-blood stooped beside her, his knees thrumming against the pebbled mountain surface. "I," he hesitated, keeping his head hunched away from sight. He began pulling a small container free from the confides of his jacket and arranged it upon the solid path. Only the tips of his fingers were peeking from beneath the stretch of his slack fleece lined coat. "I have this tea." a small quadrilateral molded cloth rose to the top of his philtered possessions. Mara began to unwrap it, revealing an unblemished glass flask, with a warm honey tinted liquid rolling around its innards. He followed her movement, noting the flinch of her fingers against the curve of her skull. She was choking it back, but the moisture on her skin gave her body's stress away. Mara may have not known the reason for it, but he did know body language and how ones actions gave away their pain. "It may help your head. It's called Rugberry Tea." He rose, wrapping his belongings back into himself and extended the drink toward her.

[Albireo]

The woman came to her senses, gave a name and added bits to the dream story. It became more and more real the more words passed between them. Wildlings far from any city. Widows on the hunt, young, but still deadly enough. Not one, but two? Albireo shuddered at the thought. As the young man stepped out of the darkness, she gave a start. The silhouette triggered a memory. Their first meeting had also been bathed in moonlight and laced crimson. Night of Zith and the fearless Shinya. She nodded to his words. They had all dreamed the same… It wasn’t so bizarre to a storyteller. Dreams were stories and stories contained a grain of truth, after all. The white-haired woman gazed into mountain darkness, piercing its secrets, dragging them into the light of knowledge. Then she cried out, sight draining energy out of her. Albireo took a step, hand twitching, and hesitated. A familiar voice pulled her back: half-blood healer. His whispered words spoke of care and regret at the same time, a benevolent offer wrapped in the air of thoughtful secrecy. Too thoughtful, perhaps, but Albireo could only meet it with compassion. Although distant in memory, there was a favor to return, at least. “If that is your wish, I will”, she murmured and allowed the vial to slip into an opened palm. Warm and familiar, his accent compelled her to trust. Closing the gap, she kneeled down by Eyaire and lifted the hood from horns and ethereal features. “My name is Albireo. We’ll take you to Lhavit together. That man, he’s a Shinya, it is his profession to protect us all. I have seen it. Your friends will be safe with him.” Although her cobalt gaze lingered on Sela for a moment, she kept most of it on the redhead. The dream had showed those three and the spider, a calling as clear as the midnight sky. Looking up, she tried to calm her worry. Please keep us safe tonight, my Lord, all of us. Your light can hide the good and protect the bad. If You do just this… I will not have it in me to doubt anymore.

[Licearsvansan]

Svan's quickly stuffed down the kneejerk urge to make a series of profain gestures at the woman who had refereed to him as "terrified". While he was mildly concerned about engaging an unknown enemy unarmed like any rational snake-man should be, he was far from terrified of the slender woman. The Shinya guard on the other hand was a different story. The man had come out of Svan's periferal and caught the snake off guard. The Dhani man didn't know much about the extent of the Shinya guards' abilities, but Svan wasn't exactly eager to learn while hanging from the sharp end of a pike. Worst of all was the fact that the man had seen Svan threaten these people.

Attempting to reclaim his composure Svan bowed lightly at the Shinya guard and forced a smile. "Sir" he quietly spoke, unsure of how to best address a Shinya guard. While he was keeping a measure of control on the outside, he was panicking internally. More and more people were revealing themselves, and Svan was quickly feeling cornered. The greatest reason for his anxiety however, was the fact that he had allowed his lisp to be heard by all of these strangers. His fears were slightly calmed by the fact that none of these people had attacked him yet.

Still, that didn't stop him from softly squeaking in terror when the wildling startled awake. Eyaire, as she called herself, quickly began to explain her situation to the gathered group and begged them for help. Once Svan's heart started beating again, he let out a relieved breath, and considered what he had just been told. Much of what the woman had said had gone over his head since he wasn't aware of the grisly fate that was in store for a Symenestra's mate. Despite this he could still sense the fear in her voice, and knew that this Symenstra was somehow the root of her pain. Just how uncharismatic do you have to be to send three girls running in fear out into the woods. Svan laugh silently to himself, fairly oblivious to the severity of the situation. Maybe its cause he has a spider sized- Suddenly the Shinya guard spoke and Svan's mind immediate hopped off its previous train of thought so that he could focus on what the guard had to say.

The man suggested that the they split into three groups, one to esort the woman and two to comb the wilderness fo the others. Furthermore the man clarified that everyone here had been summoned by the same dream. Svan nodded his head vigerously to show his approval of the plan.

Just as the snake was about to speak he was cut off by the woman who had previously insulted him. She where she had spoke coldly to Svan, she spoke kindly to the woman. The snake bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything he would regret. Just when Svan thought she was done, she entered a trance as she used her auristics to seek out the other people hiding within these mountains. Silence filled the air as the woman reached out with her magic, and beads of sweat began to form on her face. Much of auristics was a mystery to Svan, but even the greatest of fools could tell that this woman was focusing hard on something. Finally the woman broke her trance, pointed to the mountains beyond, and informed the group that the people they sought were that over there. "Oh Gee. Thanks for the help!" Svan muttered bitterly under his breath to himself, "They're in that general direction and will likely move somewhere else by the time we get there? I'm soooo glad you cleared that up. Any other info? You know, like something actually helpful?" It was clear to tell from Svan's grumblings that he was holding a fair grudge against this woman already.

Svan quit his mutterings just in time to hear Alduin offer his help. Mara then added a suggestion on where to take the wildling, and Svan nodded his head despite having no clue of what location the man was talking about. Mara then offered medicine and tea, and Albireo accepted in on the woman's behalf. The dhani felt the pocket that hid his own medicine, and considered giving some to the people headed back. He decided however, that the woman had what she needed, and took a step foreward before addressing the group. He spoke slowly and with as little of an accent as he could manage. There was still a lisp to his words since he was conserving his djed, but t wasn't nearly as prominant as before. "Well if A and A are going to esscort the woman back to the city, I guesss that leaves the resst of us to go hunting?" Svan scanned his eyes over the groupd and counted their numbers. Seven people in total and two headed back. That meant there were five people, and unless someone wanted to be split in half there would be a group with two people and another with three. "I recomend we have a tracker in each sscouting party, and do our best to balance the strength of each. Agreed?" Svan looked at the people around him before continueing. "I sshould be able to track down either the girlsss or the Symenestra, but I can only do one at a time. Who I track is your choice Shinya." Svan looked at the man for a brief moment before turning to Sela. "I don't care who you send me off with, but I recomend you keep her and I in seperate groupsss. Just because it seems we both have tracking abilities of course."

Haig said his peice, the snake remained silent and awaited instruction. Quietly wondering to himself if it would be to childish for him to simply flip off the woman and run.

[Elysium]

Eyaire listened quietly before turning to the Shinya, eyes wide. ”Your face…” Her soft whisper was nearly lost in the ambient sounds of the forest. ”I know your face.” Gingerly she rose, bracing herself against a naked stump. But before she could continue, the scaled woman nearly collapsed. Eyaire puzzled it over, brow furrowing. It was as if Sela had run the length of the sea for all her sudden exhaustion. More and more, faces appeared as if by magic… Surrounding her. Keeping her safe. Tears began to well once more, pooling at the corners of her eyes. ”Albireo,” she said, tasting the word. ”Alduin. Sela.” Her eyes fell upon the cloaked man, the one who offered salves and solutions. ”You,” she murmured, as if building toward something more – but the words stuck and died instead.

There was one final man… He spoke last. His sibilant speech reminded her of something. A long lost memory, one of terror in the dark. Panic began to unfold and without hesitation she began to yell, words so thick they ran together. ”Snake!” She cried, pointing a finger in accusation. Once before she’d met one like him and the consequences had been grave. ”I can hear it in the voice! In the sounds! He will run you down, deceive you! He, he…” Tears ran freely. ”You took her, my sister… You ate her - terrible beast! A great evil lies within you!” It was difficult to truly follow her meaning. Terrified, she ran toward the woman named Albireo, arms open and seeking comfort.

”Fine,” she agreed after silence enveloped the group. ”Find them, please. I cannot live in the woods anymore. All I wanted was their freedom, safety. Please. Make them safe.” Eyes beseeching, she looked Lu Gavima. ”The one running around the cliff is Layla, I know it. She has always been clever, even before she met me. She hunts.” There was a wavering note of pride there. ”The other, less so. Lucilla is her name. She is from a city of water and boats, from the north. They worship a dark god. She is not used to this life.” Sighing, she looked around. ”I will go with these women. Tell me – are all the women of this city so beautiful?” Somewhat awe-struck, she looked between Sela and Albireo. ”I have never seen such things before.” This was a pointed reference to her horns.

-

The trees weren’t safe. No, not safe. Feet slew across the loamy ground, carrying her away. They’d find her, but not if she was quick. If only she had a bow in her hands… She once killed a bear from fifty paces. Layla skidded to an abrupt halt, changing direction. It hadn’t looked as if she’d been followed, but there was no way to really tell. Not without time and consideration.

’Grrrrraaaaaaah…’

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low growling sound, the kind that made blood run cold. Rashkari. There was no other explanation for it. Very slowly, she inched away… Excess movement would draw it closer. That was until a man exploded from the trees, running in blind terror. Frozen, she watched as the Symenestra ran past her without seeing… Until he saw. Their eyes locked and before she could even try to escape, he had an arm around her throat. The words ‘human shield,’ sprang to mind. Spluttering, she struggled to break free. ”You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, yes… Iandel got to indulge himself a time or two, but I never seemed to get the right opportunity.” His delicate croon turned her stomach. ”I wish we could part on better terms.”

The beast stalked forward and with a careless shove, Layla toppled to the ground before him. ”Here!” He cried. ”Dinner!”

And as its lips curled, she screamed.

[Lu Gavima]

Lu watched as everyone gathered around Eyaire, his attention picking over those who would decide not only their own fate, but that of the women. He recognized Albireo, the beautiful daughter of Leth. He knew she was safe under His watch and expected her to return with Eyaire. The man who introduced himself as Alduin certainly appeared formidable, but his bulky armor could very well slow him in a race, which was what was about to happen. Lu could feel his breathing begin to shallow and his heart begin th\o thump faster in response to the perceived threat.

He closed his eyes briefly as the group spoke to her and chose their places, his discipline working to master the body's impulses and keep himself under control. The same eyes fluttered open again as the small woman who seemed to be made of ivory set about to concentrating. He was unsure of what she was doing, though he suspected it to be a form of magic. If it meant searching, it would not be Projection as she was squinting and grimacing; her head would be slack against her chest. Auristics was most likely the culprit, so he listened to her words and followed the lengths of her delicate and frail hands as she directed the routes of the two other women.

He had to think and decide quickly what was going to happen. Each moment of indecision could spell death for the others and escape for the Symenestra in question. Watching the small one known as Sela crumple in her own exertion, Lu decided who was going where, before the strange and angry man with the lisp gave him advice. His eyes were on Whitevine, one who was known to the Shinya as a medic and allowed entry to the City. Lu was not entirely biased, as he remembered his talk with Seven Xu fondly when he was younger. Knowing him had sparked his interest in the world beyond the Peaks. He simply waved off the concern the medic had when treating his patient. "Treat your patient, Whitevine."

The small man was a tracker, which was very helpful, though his demeanor could use some work. Infighting would not be tolerated at this point, as it was counterproductive to the mission. Eyaire looked at Lu as Alduin and Albireo attended to her, claiming she knew his face. Perhaps it was delirium, or even the chance that she had dreamed of him as well. It was something to inquire about later. Her accusations and fear of the tracker did not help Lu's final decision, but one had to be made regardless. Looking to those leaving, with the daughter of Leth getting the Okomo's share of his attention, Lu switched himself back into Shinya mode.

"Alright, take Eyaire back to the City. Be as quick as you can about it and let the guards at the gate know to send reinforcements here. Trackers can follow our trails as we have no need for stealth." His attention turned like a pendulum in its focus to Whitevine and Sela. " Whitevine, escort Sela in the direction of Lucilla. We need Sela's sense but having a medic on hand will aid her situation as well as that of your quarry." His next sentence was clear and stern, out of concern and time more than being harsh. "If you encounter any resistance, wait for the Shinya backup. One is not worth three."

Taking his staff in hand, he looked to the one who had been called a snake, which seemed interesting considering his lisp. Perhaps it was coincidence. Either way, it was time to move. "If the other is tough and we know it, we must assume they know it as well. She will have more resistance than the other. Whatever you are, I need you to make pace and find this Layla with me, tracker." Time for goodbyes was spent with the care of Eyaire. He looked and nodded to the medic and the ivory girl and then shifted his focus to those heading back to the City. Allowing his blood and body to pump and move, his attention was the edge of a razor on the night and the many dangers that lie ahead.

[Alses]

The cool night air helped, drawn down in great gulps to the secret darkness inside her, and the strain dissipated along with some of the tension. She'd not been able to feel the spider-silk slickness of Symenestra twinned with the arrowhead of predatory purpose that would have signalled one of the hunters, which surely meant they were too far away for her to find.

Knowing that they weren't lurking a mere ten feet away did a lot to relax her, and in a way it had been worth the expenditure of djed just for that. 'Of course,' she added hurriedly, even if it was only in the privacy of her own head, 'The location of the other girls is the main thing.'

Someone was offering her something, their voice washing in and out in waves. Tea, it seemed. From a creature – not human, no, never human, not with that physique, not with that cavern-echo in his aura, everything reflected and mirrored a half-instant later – and a shiver of ice and white-gold divinity, too, something that had blazed at her back whilst her Sight had combed the near Peaks for worry and dread, for the inferences to locations from the echo-toccata impression of feet on rock, the rumble-rumble-rumble of sliding scree, the snap-jaw crack of twigs and the soughing shimmer of a million million leaves, all of it synchronised and interpreted and overlaid into her brain with burning brands.

Symenestra, the offerer - but not-feral, not-hunter, civilised, smelling of medicine like Doctor Hellebore had.

But still...tea? That, the mundanity, the incongruity, almost, brought a smile to her face. To her, tea was something civilised, experienced in pleasant surrounds with good company, and the thought of it here in the dark wilds was – well. Amusing. Lhavit was a city near-reliant on tea, though, with entire establishments built around the manifold varieties of the drink. Bit cold on a chilly winter's day? Tea. Personal calamity? Tea. City-wide disaster? Tea. And now, it seemed: Djed trembles? Tea.

“I don't – that is, it's not – I mean - I don't drink,” Alses replied shortly, after several attempts, wincing at the mean stab of headache and the concerto of twinges throughout her body this caused. Phantoms, one and all, physical manifestations of using a lot of djed at once, but none the less annoying for that. Their Symenestra friend – and friend he was, void of hunting purpose and twining purple desire – continued describing his tea, however. Apparently, the offering was medicinal.

Medicinal.

Her throat, rebellious mortal instrument that it was, didn't care – it wanted liquid, and it wanted it now, feeling as though someone had stolen all the moisture and then rasped the result with sandpaper whilst she'd been otherwise occupied. Unbeknownst to her, at least consciously, her lips parted and her throat worked, hungrily.

“Why are healers obsessed by liquid medicine?” she didn't realise she'd spoken aloud, even as her fingers twitched towards the golden liquid. “But thank you all the same.” She cradled the flask in faintly-trembling hands for a few ticks, instinct fighting with learned revulsion fighting with needling headache.

The maelstrom of conflicting thoughts threatened to make the situation worse, so, with a grimace, she tipped up the flask and drank it as quickly as possible, hoping to drown the rising gorge. It tasted...leafy, that was probably the best way to describe it, heavy on the plant-life, and even though it was cold it spread warmth as it went down, gentle and soothing. The shivers stopped almost immediately as her temperature rose, artificially buoyed, and whilst the twinges and headache didn't vanish, their intensity slowly began to dim, their pressure on her skull fade, though they hammered back with a few dry heaves she really couldn't control. A sibilant, lilting voice intruded on the new clarity, unwelcome in its presence as much as in the words it carried, and worse still, it needed – or rather, warranted – a response from her.

“They are running,” she growled – and it was a growl, voice still rough and scratchy – at Licearsvansan. He felt of scales, phantom scales on her skin, and a dry, hissing susurration that dinned in her ears when her Sight drank him in. She cleared her throat, and her voice returned to something approximating normality. “Mostly too afraid to think in anything other than straight lines. I accounted for the mountain girl's occasional zigzag drift, but the Peaks are unforgiving-” not a flicker of a smile at the weak pun “-and their progress will surely be slow. Both are still nearby, and now you have only two directions to pursue, rather than many.”

At Licearsvansan's suggestion she continue to work as a tracker, she blanched, casting a longing look back along the path that led to the many-spired, brilliantly luminous crown that was the Diamond of Kalea in all its bright and shining splendour.

He was right, though, Syna damn him, for all his sneering – and she'd yet to see any tracking ability from him, which made things rankle all the more, that he'd not been more forthcoming, that she'd exerted herself unnecessarily. “I agree,” she replied instead, voice purposefully brisk, her pride daring anyone to mention the look back to Lhavit. “Two separate groups, protecting one tracker each. Efficient. I-”

She got no further, however, for Eyaire burst into hysteria once more, babbling about snakes and the eating of sisters. 'He does taste of scales, her mind prompted, even as the shock froze her features.

“You. Medic?” she kept her voice soft, and turned what could have been a command into a question, gesturing at Mara. “I'm sorry, I don't know your name. Do you have anything to...” she shrugged, radiating ignorance like a beacon “...calm her?” There was Sweet Oblivion in one of the many pockets of Alses' robes, of course, but that would knock Eyaire out in seconds, not grant her equilibrium. Someone would then have to carry her, too, a consideration that stayed Alses' hand from reaching for the bottle regardless.

As quickly as the outburst had come, however, it vanished, a strained mind flitting from one thing to another, real to unreal, serious to frivolous, anything to keep from drowning under external pressure.

Eyaire thought them beautiful, apparently. Well, one of them was, to be sure, glorious and fulfilled, and the other-

Best not to think about it. Melancholy didn't help anyone.

Alses looked over at Albireo, though, unable to help it, about to ask the Lethaefal to tell the Shinya that one of the forty-eight was still abroad in the Peaks, that they had a duty, one they'd signally failed in twice before, that she was to go to the Dusk Tower and rouse Chiona Dusk – surely Alses' tutor would help? - but the divine sight clamped a vice around her throat and pride, ever her downfall, prevented the advice from ever being given sorrow-choked voice.

She looked away instead, with a mumbled: “I'm not beautiful,” towards the safe darkness of the forests, and listened with half an ear to Lu's assignments. He was trustworthy, he knew what he was doing, there was no reason for her to argue. Even if she was afraid.

'Deep breaths, Alse,' she told herself, squaring up to the dark forests that stretched away in front of her. 'Go shallowly, conserve your strength as much as you can. And keep your voice low.'

“Whitevine?” she murmured, feeling his presence close by as they moved. Comforting, for the moment. “What can your race do? I know you can climb well, and you see easily in this darkness, but is there anything more I should know?”

As she waited for his reply, she was lightly examining their surroundings, probing and probing with the lightest of touches, ever alert for a predator's flash in her mind's eye, or the snaring silken swiftness of another Symenestra.

[Mara]

The urgency in each formulated intonation rippled under his translucently veined skin like the barbs of miniature insect legs scurrying over every limb. Head held low, he found no exigency for his shining moment, or a demonstration in leadership or gallantry. The inflated round of a raw lip, shimmering from the swipes of an unnerved tongue, budded between the rasped ends of ivory cusps. The fractious swallow of air, a beginning of an insistent huff, puffed out the hollow of his chest. Sela's generalization subdued him, seeping the measured leak of an anticlimactic exhale around the flair of a punctured nostril. A laugh, by way of common courtesy echoed in the shallow of his breath, a rumple of habitual bedside manner meant to ease the delicacy of patients.

The Shinya's acknowledgement stilled him, his fingers tucking back under the hood of his sleeves with the slipping away of the small inscribed box of his supplies, self-consciously and absurdly even in the address of proper his name. His chin tilted, the tense of muscle stretched over a clench of jaw. "Yes of course." practiced politeness salivated from the offer sentiment. Despite the deadpan of each, for the moment he placed trust in him.

Persistent in the indulgence of Sela's plight, Mara offered the diffidence of a nod for her thanks, more watchful of the reflection of lunar rays against the opal texture of her features as she mulled over his concoction. He lifted his sight enough to find the shadow of each swallow dent about her throat, a vigilant physician and waif wordlessly observing the flock of ruffling feathers about him. He was mindful of any of their symptomatic uprisings, an exaggerated heaving of breath, the shaking of clenching palms, a gleam of perspiration dotting upon a pain wrinkled brow, or the tremble of a pronounced jugular pumping panic through the body's pipelines to the dusty crevices of tingling flesh.

The scattered strangers drew closer still, as if conversation had proclaimed a weakened gravitation about the slender torso of Eyaire, in form of a misshapen huddle. Sela growled, a gruff sound that needed no insistence to cause pause to listen to, but instinctively pulled his poignant features into the light as he looked her over, blood garnets catching glow in the pit of fully expanded pupils. The strain of her continued announcement hardly seemed cleared with the soothing of her voice's initial gruff.

Plans were beginning to be made, suggestions from the one whom had been so willing to fight when he had first approached. They all seemed to agree, the proposals beginning to morph into solid preparation, all of which he played silent party to.

The foreign girl was subsequent with an unexpected outburst of her own. Screaming of serpents and gobbled losses, had he been not race to such stories of nightmare he would have assumed her spouting outlandish lore. Though they were tales he did not recall reading of. The straightening of the half-blood’s spine rolled the slender muscle of his shoulders back toward Sela in her address of him. "I do, though it is unprepared and the affects can take as long as an hour to become helpful." He was prepared to dig back through his belongings when the shuffle of feet drew his attention. He was deliberate now to turn patiently, only glancing over the shadow of his shoulder as she ran into the awaiting arms of the reticent Albireo. Quite a coupling they made, she intertwined with the Lethaefal, it appeared as cubs wrapping tail fluff and paw pads around one another. Comfort, it seemed, was worth as much as any exceptionally whetted armament when fright enclosed upon the cornered.

"Seeing as time is sparse, I'm sure it can be resolved once reaching their terminus."

Once they were split, each a tracker and a confidante, for he was far from a decent form of safeguard, though his purpose was clarified. He skimmed his newly appointed other half and was startled by her impulsive inquest. She could see the recently chosen paths, and distinguish the variances of the pursuer and victim, it was should not have been such a shock.

"I-uh-Our saliva, it possesses a poisonous property, each specific to the individual, responsive to their needs, and strong enough to liquefy many..." he gulped a glob of his own sweetened venom rolling down his esophagus into his uninhabited gut, "fleshy solids. The longer the pause is between meals, the deadlier the bite."

A dread rung in Marvasa’s ears like the forgotten static of a fading scream, “Perhaps we should hurry.”

[Licearsvansan]

”Snake!”

I'm sorry dear but could you repeat that? I don't think they heard you in petching SYLIRAS! Svan thought angrily to himself after Eyaire's outburst. He was used to people shouting at him when they heard his lisp, but usually it wasn't while he was trying to help. Most people had the decency to simply curl into a ball, whimper, and pray to their gods that Svan would just disappear. But no, this woman had to look a gift horse in the mouth, and scream about bloody murder. "With manners like that its no surprise you live in the wild." Svan grumbled quietly. Still, it was impossible for Svan to honestly say that he was indeed innocent of the crime she charged him with. Though he tried his best to respect Caiyha's teachings and avoid pointless murder, he wasn't very hesitant to kill if it served some purpose. Unfortunately, sometimes filling his belly met the criteria of "purposeful murder", especially when he was in the wilderness. Animals, after all, had to eat.

Regardless of possible guilt, Svan acted as if the charges were false and made a face of annoyance. He then turned to Lu who was delivering orders to the group. A smile crossed his face when he noted that Alses had been placed in a separate group, but he was otherwise unconcerned about what Lu was saying until he began ordering Svan. The Dhani's smile instantly disappeared at the news that he would be traveling with the Shinya. He had hoped the man would split their fighting force equally, but how could he have know what a Dhani was capable of. It also made sense that the Shinya might want to keep an eye on the "terrible beast". With a groan of disappointment Svan began heading towards the edge of the clearing.

"It will take me the smaller part of a chime to get ready, you can wait here Shinya. I suggest the rest of you get going before I return though. Unless that is, you want to see just why the woman was screaming about snakes." Svan reached the edge and was just beginning to pass the shrubbery and leaves when he turned back to Gavima."Oh and Shinya? Please do refrain from attacking whatever "beast" you see emerging from these woods. I doubt they would believe me if I said I killed you in self defense." His voice wasn't menacing, but instead he almost seemed agitated. As he had repeated such a line far more often than he would have liked. Svan let out a slow snake-like hiss as he crept out of sight.

Once hidden from view, Svan began the annoying process of undressing himself so that he could shift into his Dhani form. Luckily he made sure to buy clothes that would fit both his human and Dhani form, but unless he decided to wear a skirt, any lower body clothing had to go. Svan hurried out of his shoes, pants and undergarments in record time. For his top he merely had to undo the buckles and buttons that held his otherwise loose clothing to his body. By the time he was finished Svan resembled a child in his father's t-shirt. A father with really horrible taste. Having adjusted his clothing, Svan began his shift to the Dhani form. Organs shifted, muscles adjusted, bones rearranged, and Svan fell on his face. Petching shyke! 17 years and I still forget to it down when I do this. Svan lied on the ground and angrily glared at his leg-tail. With a sigh Svan turned onto his back and waited for the morph to finish. At a glance, the morph seemed horrible painful, but for Svan it felt like stretching out after a day spent crammed into a small hole. Still comfortable though it was, he couldn't deny the feeling of vulnerability he felt in these moments. If Lu came through the bushes and saw him like this, it wouldn't be difficult to end Svan's century long life in a matter of seconds. Tch, even that Sela girl could do me in like this.

Luckily for Svan, and unluckily for the world, he managed to finish his shift With a smile on his snake face, Svan rose and headed back towards the clearing. His heat pits flared and his senses reach out beyond the foliage that hid his form. He spied a few loose heat signatures still in the clearing, and so he sat down and waited until they were gone. As he sat there he played with his fingers and slowly began morphing sharp hooked talons onto his hands. His senses remained trained on the clearing, and not until everyone was gone would he allow himself to enter it.

Because the last thing we need is to have to treat Eyaire for a heart attack.