The Strong Survive (Kaie)

[Wrenmae]

"If stories and songs are your preference," the sorcerer said with a slight upturned grin, "But there are many ways to while away the evening till dawn's light." He paused, a few steps before breaching her strike zone and straightened. She had agreed without fully acquiescing, enough knowledge within her to know to hold at least a threat over his head.

How many were there? Who was she with? He'd find out tonight or never at all.

Turning, he strode back to the fire and took a seat, laying his bottle upon the ground near the blaze. The expensive looking object caught the fire and refracted it, glimmering bright and then dark.

"I have nothing to fear from you," he told her simply, raising his eyes above the leaping flames, "The next time you attempt to take me by surprise, I'll leave a dagger in your neck and your body for the crows." It was calm, not so much a threat as a promise.

"But death is not something I'm interested in doling out. Death is such a cold finality, there's hardly anything interesting that comes of it." Picking up a stick he poked the blaze, "The gods in all their glory will take you to wherever they feel you best serve...and who could stop them? No...I much prefer life, when your will is your own and your destiny is still developing."

He caught her in his gaze.

"I will be here when you return, with or without your compatriots. However, if we meet as enemies, I will not hesitate to take your life next time...and as a mercenary yourself, you'll understand."

A haunting grin ghosted his lips and he shook his head, "But I'd much prefer a more interesting evening of tales and..." he let his eyes rove up and down her form then back to the fire, "Whatever else passes time between two travelers you find amenable."

[Kaie]

Through his solemn covenants with her regarding his willingness to obliterate herself and any who return to cause him harm, Kaie remained silent. Her body was still tense, muscles flexed defensively beneath bronzed skin that glowed bright in the flame light. The Myrian's expression was hard, intelligent eyes staring directing into his as if searching for bluff.

That search was fruitless. Instead she found the threats from this man genuine and sincere. It was not a product of over confidence. His words were the offspring of skill and experience. Kaie was never one to venture onto the chess board of mind games, and she wasn't so sure she should step up to just a ploy. He was certain of himself. No matter where she might move her piece, whatever she may decide, he would anticipate it. And he was ready to handle whatever she threw at him.

Amber hues couldn't help but notice the odd bottle set beside the fire. The glow was unique. Unnatural even, but as soon as it came the glimmering dimmed. It captured her attention for several moments, tearing at her focus even as he addressed her once more. The words took a hold of her with great power. He could not fear what he could easily defeat. An adversary he could off as a simple exercise, which was what he was implying. Kaie could throw her own threats and warnings all night, but when it came down to it, he had skills she did not possess nor understand. For how could she compete with a man with flaming hands?

Their philosophies, however, were rather connected. While backgrounds separated views upon what he called "a cold finality." As a Myrian, such ends never truly became permanent. Not really. All that fall in the light of Myri rose again to fight another war in her name. Those that had enough battle in the mortal world would join her Shadow Guard, defending the city under the watch of the Goddess Queen's own children. For the savages of Falyndar, their battles were never truly finished. There would always be another fray to jump back into, even in eternity.

Kaie's gaze wandered for a moment around his camp and over his body as a whole. She was searching for that coveted collateral, something to seal the deal. Horses, swords, and other notable things would simply not do. Upon seeing her with them in her possession, Trent would certainly interrogate her mercilessly. Then she found her eyes flickering to that odd bottle again. It looked like it was worth something, but how much? If she was holding nothing but a little alcohol as insurance, he might as well laugh in her face and get on his way before she made it back. Much to dismay, not all rules seemed to apply. He had offered her naught but his word. It would have to be enough. Just this once.

"Then as a mercenary like me, I guess I'll have to hope you're a man of your word," Kaie eyed him distrustfully, her words soaked in uneasy cooperation. His appreciative once over did not go unnoticed, either. A faint twitch of a smile threatened the corner of her lips. She slowly eased around the fire, watching him all the way. A hand reached down toward her gladius when she reached it. Bronzed fingers wrapped nostalgically about its handle, but her head lifted to explain before returning to an upright position.
"They'll notice if it's missing."

And just like that she was up again with her gladius sliding into its prison, prepared to go on her way. Kaie backed up until her heels entered the darkness of the forest. That's when she turned in the comfort of the night and paced steadily on. And somehow the choice was still lingering on her mind...

Several Chimes Later...

The gentle sound of forest undergrowth beneath bare feet approached the campfire of the sorcerer once again. There was little effort in concealing the advance as if the traveler was announcing their presence to whoever listened. Within moments of the sound's initial appearance, a lithe silhouette manifested itself from the shadows in the edge of a fire light.

The glow of the flames seemed to absorb itself into the sun kissed skin of the Myrian woman present. With the camouflage washed from her face, the features of her complexion were far easier to identify. They were soft and smooth as if crafted from fresh, moist clay. However, they were tainted with the natural intensity of a belligerent race. The remnance of her treacherous jungle home still evident in her steady gaze of amber, and the way she navigated herself through the world. And once more she had arrived alone.

"So...What do two travelers not trying to kill each other do to pass the time in the night?"

[Wrenmae]

The flames had guttered low for a time, at least till Wren had returned with more wood. Exhaustion had begun to grow beneath his eyes, black hollows barely filled with the light of the fire he'd made. Cross-legged near the warmth, he stared directly into the twisting tongues of amber, yellow, and orange. Here they danced, spun on gossamer bodies. The fire was alive in its own sort of way, blazing brightly and then guttering low.

Such short existences.

She returned with her face washed, the glimmer-glow of the campfire illuminating the bronze in her skin, the supple but taut construction of her body. What hadn't changed was her brazen attitude, her upfront demeanor and the presence that radiated off her body like the essence of command.

He didn't look up at her till she spoke, and then he simply stared, letting his tired eyes rest on her before recognizing that what happened before wasn't a dream.

The ache in his nose was enough of a reminder, though he had washed the blood away in the stream.

"You travel alone, don't you?" He asked her, clasping his hands together, "Otherwise that would be a foolish question."'

Looking up he could see the moon beyond the canopy. The leaves had already begun to change color, drifting into their cacophony of reds, browns, and yellows...the world was on fire around him.

A quiet fire.

"We tell stories," he invited, holding out a hand to the other side of the fire, "We ask questions, we joke, we laugh, we eat, we petch...there are no rules for meetings save the ones you create."

He drew back his hand to his lap.

"So take a seat by the fire and decide what you're most interested in." He looked up again, the hint of a frown playing about his mouth.

"The night will not last forever."

[Kaie]

The Myrian woman arched a brow at him coolly, a hand reaching down to flick the straying edge of her cloak behind her again. Perhaps a defensive gesture against his claim.

"Or maybe the men I travel with bore me," She replied passively, eyes wandering the tired face of the man whose focus was turned toward the world above. He was a quiet man whose secrets were always held tight to his chest. No simple prying would reveal the answers she sought from him. Those hollowed eyes filled only with the light of the flames had seen much.

But what began that savage burning that blossomed beneath her harsh veil of hostility? Upon what fuel did her desires combust to incinerate the wick of a candle seeking self awakening? A candle whose sweet whispers tickled at her ears alluringly, daring her deconstruct his natural enigma? In those moments of that night, Kaie did not question. She was a slave to the born curiosity that plagued her. And perhaps that alone was what kept her there that night, sitting at that simple fire.

So many options...And which is the weary traveler most interested in? Kaie mused quietly to herself, eyes captured in the bold color of the fire she had just sat before. Amber hues studied him casually between the flicker of flaming dancers.

"Yes. And you're still awake," She challenged softly, a single half grin grazing its way up her cheek. From where she stood he seemed like he could use what few hours he could before early twilight. "Let's start easy. You have a name, yes?"

[Wrenmae]

He didn't look at her, not at first. Instead he took one of the sticks he would have thrown in the fire and thrust it deep into the burning embers. It was lost there, distorted in the writhing flames till ends charred and it became one with the blaze.

"Names are unimportant," he said at last, not looking up from the fire. "It would not have been important if you'd succeeded in killing me and it wouldn't have been important if I had decided to kill you. We're travelers, let's leave it at that."

The fire popped and crackled, hissing like a slightly annoyed animal. Wren withdrew the stick from the blaze and held up the burning ember against the night sky. It shone there, bright as any star for a moment before surrendering its glow to smoke and giving up the battle to darkness.

He stifled a yawn. In the dancing light his face was haggard, and the lines of his expression were chasms.

"If we meet again, perhaps," he said to her at last, looking up across the flames at her with the shadow of a smile so faint it might not have been there at all.

"You are not from here." He said it as a fact, "What brought you from the lands of your people to ours?"

[Kaie]

The man was the perfect enigma to the savage. A mysterious dark figure whose body was brightened in the flame light, but that was all. There was nothing for the Myrian woman to find in his eyes with or without the illumination cast by the blaze. Nothing at all. Just a shroud of secrecy she wished to peer under if only for a moment. To discover what dastardly deeds lurked beneath his poise and persona. For what does it say of a man who refuses to give his name? Unless there is worth...Something of the identifier that links him to something of greater interest. Or of greater sin.

It's not like I can argue with that logic. He has a good petching point there.

The woman watched the scorched stick smolder in his hands, its luminescence murdered by the cold world so different from the embers that burned its glow into existence. Just like watching the life flicker from one's eyes, the end of the stick simply smoked defiantly in its fade against the night. The gray tendrils providing the only hint it was once a glorious brightness to behold. Perhaps that how the cities across the Suvan were like before the world was reborn. Towering temples, houses, and buildings fortified in honor and the strength of a great nation. Only to fall and crumble into oblivion. Into nothing but a memory. How quickly the most admirable things could be decimated into such trivial ruins.

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

"What was your first clue?" Kaie teased in good nature, seeming to grow a bit more at ease by his fire. It appeared to be foolish to remain so tense and distrustful of the man, ready to attempt to bludgeon him to death with her fists. He'd made it clear already he could handle himself well enough. Whether she liked it or not, he had talents that she didn't quite know how to defend. Might as well relax and enjoy what he had offered while things were still going amicably.

"In Falyndar, some have a tradition of crossing the Suvan to barbarian lands as a kind of pilgrimage. Guess I wanted to start mine early," Kaie answered easily, letting her smile take a more sinister turn. She couldn't help but wonder how he might perceive what "pilgrimage" meant. Thus far, it appeared she'd let him conjure his own understanding unless he prodded for more.

"And what about you? One traveler all by himself. You don't seem stupid so I'm assuming you have some kind of method. How does one man survive?"

[Wrenmae]

He turned his eyes up sharply, catching hers in a cool glare. The moment melted when he smiled and coaxed res from his palm to curl up along the stick, turning it from the fire, he attracted the flames within the crackling pit and they leaped, summoned, onto his stick, flaring anew.

In that light he held his wolfish smile, the hollows beneath his eyes the testament to the pressures of sleepless nights among the unkempt Wildlands.

"How indeed," he said, tossing the stick into the blaze. It clattered against the logs for a moment before catching along its length. In moments it had surrendered body and soul to the blaze.

Wren shrugged his shoulder forward, "One man survives by being more than one man, and that's as far as I'll go. Let's not forget that but bells ago you were here to take my life for a group of strangers. Even if you have been fully honest and not led them to wait for me to slumber, I would not be foolish enough to give up my secrets to a once enemy...especially..." he paused, pressing his hands together and leaning back, craning his neck to look up at the stars beyond the leaves,

"When my opponent did not impress me."

He did not expand on the words, only lowered his gaze to her again and raised an eyebrow. "So what have you found on your journey to the barbarian lands, hmm? How does Sylira compare to the jungle of Falyndar? I've heard they have massive beasts that live there, danger around every turn...cannibal races and snake-people called Dhani. Of course..." he let that sit between them, "Those were stories. I've never been so you'll forgive my curiosity for your native grounds."

[Kaie]

Though she hadn't a clue what exactly she was witnessing before it happened, Kaie swore she could see it. There was something there, something in the works that connected directly with the stranger. It didn't appear to be superficial by any means. Could it be that this strange power he had acquired was not a trick of the eyes or some sort of illusion, but a talent of his own?

Frozen gaze broke into a knowing smile just before the flames leaped onto the wood like wolves upon a carcass. It was as if they had an agenda of their own, rushing the stick with superior numbers and sinking their flaming jaws to its very core. The burn was quick and cracking along its skin, digging a burn to the center. Meanwhile, the one who had called for the flames' ambush sat there with that grin still plastered upon his face. Though hollowed and worn his eyes seemed to be, Kaie knew better than to mistake him for something weak.

Just as the final burn of the stick yielded no real purpose, her question was answered only with another round of cryptic responses. All she was left with was this desire. Abandoned with the churning will to know and to understand the man who bested her in the night. The man who spared a knife in the dark as if it still had some purpose. The stranger who survived alone as one, yet claimed to be stronger than the power of one. While she was forced to join the most undesirable band of travelers if only to ensure her own survival against the wild and men like themselves, the stranger thrived solo. It seemed only the dark patches beneath his eyes and the blood she managed to spill earlier could remind her he was mortal. No one was invisible in body and spirit. Some were just tougher and more resilient than others.

His reasons for keeping the details to himself were rational enough. She probably wouldn't trust herself either if she had been in his position. All was understandable. However, the final bit was far from pleasing to her ears.

I did not impress you...?

Whatever coy or challenging expression she once had was lost with the gentle gust of fall wind the moment his words settled. Kaie's expression turned cold and her eyes took on an intensive frost so icy it could put out the blaze separating them. A ghost of a laugh breathed out from her lungs, a single brow arched with disbelief. The savage's tongue probed the inside of her cheek as if debating how to handle the offense. His talents had greatly exceeded hers, and had he been another man or perhaps they had met at another time, she would've been swept up by Dira bells ago. Though she absolutely loathed him for it, he had been the victory. What's worse, he had her returning with a walk of shame. Ultimately she could do nothing but swallow her pride. For now.

"It is how you say. Thick jungle with something trying to kill you around every corner. Myrians reign for the most part. We boxed the Dhani into their little cave-city to rot, and as soon as they break their end of the agreement with Caiyha, we'll finish what the Goddess Queen started and smoke them out," Kaie confirmed with a slow nod of her head, though her tone became more domineering and hateful at mention of their ancient war with the snake-people. A blaze came to her eyes then, expression mimicking that of an unconditionally faithful soldier to a higher power. Unquestionably loyal to a fault, perhaps. Yet weren't most Myrians when it came to their Mother?

"I've seen many things. Strange things you do not find in Falyndar. Strange people and gods. Sylira is just another kind of jungle, though I prefer my own over this one. I've had no desire to stay on this side of the world for some time now. And I can't stand the petching prison camp you call Syliras either," She continued neutrally, growing colder again right before the finish. Goddess, she hated staring at those walls and living by the unwavering iron fist of the Knights' imposed justice. And for a moment she seemed to sit there in silence, glaring into the flames in recollection of her own experiences. Lost for a moment in her mental wandering but returning when the most obvious question to ask struck her.

"You answer few things I ask for good reason, but explain to me this. You did not kill the woman who made an attempt on your life. Instead you offered a seat at your fire. You offered mercy I did not deserve. Why?"

[Wrenmae]

He did not answer her. Not at first. Instead he stared into the leaping flames as if there was answer there, twisting like exotic dancers from log to log. The silence stretched between them and he said nothing, perhaps he had no words to offer her.

After what seemed like an eternity a sigh rattled his narrow frame and he drew a dagger from his belt, holding the blade out over the fire. Light lived within the blade, glistening off its edges and hilt, the glare of its pommel. He placed it on the ground at his feet, the blade parallel and pointing across the fire at the Myrian. There was grave meaning there, as if all it took to end this conference was him to pick it up and throw it.

He would not miss at his range.

"Why indeed..." He muttered to no one, staring at the fire reflected in the steel.

"I should have killed you," he said last, making eye contact with her, "You were weak, weaker than I anyways...and the strong eat the flesh of the weak." He grinned wolfishly, but there was no mirth there, only cold fact lived in his mirth now. "But you continued to fight when the battle was lost. I applaud your dedication, even if it was pointless struggle." He took a breath, held it, let it out into the fire.

"I've killed many. I don't need to bluff about it. But when you take a life, that's it. The story ends. Perhaps that was what haunted me about it." He took another stick and poked at the fire, standing and taking another large branch and tossing it onto the blaze. The sparks roared up around him, dancing on his skin.

"You have a mother. You have a father. Perhaps you have siblings, friends, enemies. Your life is a tapestry not unlike mine...woven in different strands from different places, but as vibrant and real as anyone else. If I tear it down, the story is lost. Who will mourn you, Myrian? Who will sing your song? If I leave you in the forest, will someone bury you...or will you just be food for the beasts of the trees and sky?"

He took a seat again, crossing his arms, but not before taking the dagger off the ground. "Death is necessary. We kill to survive. We kill to eat. We kill for lesser things too. I cannot excise death from my life...and I am sure one day a greater killer than me will take my own." He gravely regarded her across the flames. "There is no peaceful end for any of us...and perhaps there never was."

Sighing, he placed the dagger back in the scabbard. "I do not often have a choice on leaving my enemies alive...but then, I never challenged myself to. It was always easier to leave them dead and the threat over but..." He shrugged, "I never knew their stories, their purpose, and it seemed like such a waste."

An index finger lowered to the dirt and he began to draw a skyline...buildings, palaces, spires...

"Once upon a time, humanity ruled these lands. Now the lands rule us. You are not a weak person, just weaker than me...but there is no shame in that if you survive."

He was quiet a moment.

"Maybe one day you will do something impressive with this life I've given back to you. Maybe you will surprise me...maybe you will be an asset to me. In any case, if you were dead you'd be none of those things, or anything at all in your life, ever again."

Glancing up again, he forced a quiet half smile, "It is not your time to walk with Dira, Myrian," he told her simply, "Not tonight. So enjoy your heartbeat and the sensations of your soul...as I will enjoy mine."

[Kaie]

At first she was set on the idea that his initial silence, that lingered just a bit too long, was a sure sign he would again leave her with nothing. No answers, no explanations. Just the forest quiet broken only by the crackle of hungry flames. There was nothing to do but sit there beside the fire and hope for a response less vague than the former. Kaie found herself leaning in hopefully. It would seem she believed she could coax something from that pragmatic stranger with mysterious intentions. A relieved exhale came the moment she realize he was indeed about to speak. That he was about to give her some kind of reason.

His work with the dagger was theatrical, but the Myrian did possess the notion it served a metaphorical purpose. Any Falyndar inhabitant understood the symbolism of a weapon with a blade. Kaie's eyes followed it through its descent to the blaze. She watched the way the flames licked the metal, and how its radiance seduced the shiny surface into reflecting the natural light. Only when he had removed the dagger from the burn and placed it in her direction, did the symbolism truly manifest itself. That simple gesture was clear as day in any culture.

You applaud my dedication but we both know that's worthless when Dira's making her rounds.

At the beginning of his explanation, the frustrated Myrian focused solely on herself. Possessed and controlled by his previous statement: she did not impress him. She had proven inadequate. Something lesser than her adversary. She had let her opponent hold her life so clearly in his hands and ward off the Goddess of Death. For a Myrian who would've liked to have called herself a survivor despite her lesser skill sets, it was destructive. Quickly it became a fixation, an obsession she couldn't shake for the moment. Yet when her internal self loathing after her ineptness finally began to ebb, she began to listen.

His outlook was eccentric compared to anything her upbringing had ever exposed her to. Despite their clear differences, he could see something more in those he came across. They were not just faces and obstacles whose brief living moments remained unimportant. He saw more in their eyes. This shadow saw their future, the parallel paths they walked and would continue to if he they survived the sudden cross with his. It was then that the Myrian woman understood there was no particular reason he might've chosen her, to save a stranger when he did. The fact was she was still there. Still breathing. And thought her heart clenched at mention of her father, who was lost just several seasons ago, she swallowed her pride. For once, she opened her mind to his.

Kaie was quiet for some time. His speech had flipped her whole world upside down. It was revelation, and one she wasn't quite sure she was ready to accept or even consider. She was staring into the face of two opposite sides of a coin. By all definitions of the world, Kaie was deeply conflicted. Her very soul was divided in half. At least his closing points had managed to sew some of it back together on common ground. However, it was still quite a bit to take in and process. For a few moments her entire perception was turned on its head.

What he said last. It's true isn't it? Is it not what Yitmah and your elders had drilled into your skull from the moment you could comprehend their words? We come from violent beginnings and therefore violent ends. Death is the only sure thing in our lives. As they say, it's best to make friends with Dira and die well if you can.

"Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this," Kaie said slowly, brow raising at him almost in a commending fashion. She leaned back from the heat of the fire, eyes narrowing just slightly as she continued to ponder what she had been given. "But...You know this is a debt I may never repay."

Kaie stared at him from across the fire with a more neutral expression. One of honesty, but still one that conveyed the understanding their situation was not one of true trust. He had spared her life, but what did they mean? That she would have to hound after him, shadowing him until the moment she could repay the favor? Hang by his side like some sort of pathetic servant? Maybe he had been wrong to keep her alive. Didn't he realize his investment might've been a complete waste? Better to cover his tracks and eliminate the threat.

"It's like you said. We're both travelers. There's no way to know if we'll ever cross paths again."