And Not To Yield (Edreina)

by **Edreina** on November 18th, 2013, 4:29 am

At the sight of the winged man, Edreina felt something flicker inside of her, as if she were recognizing the stranger. Alongside this feeling was one of awe and reverence. It took a tick, but Edreina recognized that the man before them was not of this earth, nor even this plane of existence. He had to be one of the immortal, one of the divine pantheon.

But, this instinct was counteracted by the worry that this was yet another illusion in some way, shape, or form. It... it could not be, there was no way. While the illusions had felt flat in some way, as if her mind was trying to tell her how wrong and illogical it was, the part of her mind that had recognized the strange god was screaming that he was real, that this entire situation was real.

This conflict lasted up until Razkar asked who Rhysol was. After many a day helping to tend to the knights of Syliras, Edreina had come to know a fair bit about the apparent scourge that was Rhysol. "He's the god of chaos and destruction. He looks to bring down all that Sylir stood for." Her voice was low, quiet as if simply reminding herself of the answer. Apparently, the urge to be awed by the stranger was winning out.

Blue eyes rose infinitesimally, just so that they could alight upon the unknown acquaintance once again. It was so strange, but she seemed to gain strength from such a simple glance. The fact that this was not an illusion was reaffirmed and she found herself sighing, relaxing visibly. Her ears had caught the conversation but it was only then that her mind followed it. "Even if it does not bring her back, such evil does not deserve to exist. But... if we were not to find him... them," Edreina knew not murderer or murderers, only the foul deed that now corrupted this woodland. "If we did not find them, eventually they would fall. It's only right. No one can put out so much evil and expect that none find them in the end. Even the father will soon learn the cost of pride." Her voice turned to acid at the thought of a family member turning against another, a father against a daughter no less.

She was quickly going off topic, but such was her way. Now that she had the courage to speak before so noble a creature, she put no effort into organizing her thoughts, only speaking her mind. "By betraying her, the father has fed Rhysol and such chaos cannot be controlled. It will find him and exact its cost. The men did the same by betraying nature..." An odd sort of flame entered Edreina's eyes as she glanced warily over at Razkar, knowing that this was another example of her belief going against his. A wayward strand of hair was placed behind Edreina's ear, punctuating the end of her thoughts and a desire to listen to what the others would say, particularly the god.

by **Balderdash** on November 18th, 2013, 5:15 am

"You are right, Edreina." said the God. "But he also rules the spheres of lies, betrayal, and evil. Other humans call him the Defiler. I call him the enemy."

The Svefra's earnestness caused the corners of Yahal's mouth to turn upwards, if only for a moment. "The father has already learned his lesson. And the men too have received their dues from you. In their hurry to escape, they fled West," he said, stretching his arm out to point the way, "Away from civilization." He did not need to say what that meant for them.

Turning his attention back to Razkar, he said, "You will need to ask Laviku why Valentine is dead. Even I can not be everywhere. As for why I told you this..." The deity didn't seem angry at him. Just disappointed, and sad. "All three of us know what you did. Poor Edreina still bears the scar of it."

Stepping towards him, Yahal said, "I appear to you and tell you this because I believe there is some good in you, and that it may triumph over your darker aspects." He paused then, his lips pursing, "... But I cannot overlook what you did. It was by fortune that Edreina, a woman who follows wherever you lead, who trusts you completely, survived your taking the blade to her, and I will not let such callous an action stand."

by **Razkar** on November 19th, 2013, 12:42 am

Razkar's frown deepened but some of the indignation faded from it as he absorbed this new information. "Rhysol", was it? God of Evil and Chaos? He sounded delightful.

"The father has already learned his lesson. And the men too have received their dues from you. In their hurry to escape, they fled West. Away from civilization."

Razkar felt a very real flash of fire straighten his spine and he sidestepped almost in the vision's way as he had the presumption to smile at his female. His (it's?) words made his jaw tense and click as well. Such... unsatisfying, random routes this vision relied upon! The Wildlands were death for those who did not travel in the safety of an armed caravan, true, but would anyone rely on the land to do what a sword could finish much swifter? It galled him, and that father, too, ignoring his own child's plight...

"You will need to ask Laviku why Valentine is dead. Even I can not be everywhere. As for why I told you this... All three of us know what you did. Poor Edreina still bears the scar of it."

You could have heard an ant fart in the silence that followed. The Svefra shuffled a little, crunching grass sounding like an elephant trying to tiptoe in the vast vacuum of sound. Razkar's face... well, not paled, but some of the darkness in it seemed to drain away, veins and piercings and streams of new and faded ink growing stark and... angry. That was rising in his eyes as well, the sheer petching presumption that-

"You... would question me..." Once again the multiverse palmed its collective face and wondered when the blunt instrument would realize whom he was talking to. "... on such a matter...?"

"I appear to you and tell you this because I believe there is some good in you, and that it may triumph over your darker aspects."

The being stepped forward and Razkar's gladius twitched in his hand, but he ended up sheathing it, anyway. Cryptic and irritating though this new visitor was, the Myrian did not sense any violent intent in his actions. Curious, perhaps ethereal, true... but not dangerous.

Then he snorted softly. "Darker aspects", indeed. Clearly he has met few Children of Myri...

"But I cannot overlook what you did. It was by fortune that Edreina, a woman who follows wherever you lead, who trusts you completely, survived your taking the blade to her, and I will not let such callous an action stand."

The wry humor on his face drained away like the blood ticks before. Razkar was beginning to reexamine his opinion of the individual. Opinion was one thing, but there was a definite threat behind the wing'd male's words now, conditions and ultimatums waiting in the wings of vocabulary.

Razkar stepped forward. The vision seemed to like the sound of his own voice; well, two could play at that game, and he was tired of be lectured by the uninformed, namely-

"'Callous'?" The scorn he spoke the word with could have stripped away lead. "'Callous'? You seem to have eyes for what happened that day... whatever you are. Let me ask you this, then..."

Another step, until he was barely a yard from the man, crossing his arms over his broad chest pugnaciously, jutting his chin... though he had to, so tall was the robed figure.

"What would you have done? What did you think Ekvan and his dogs would have done? Cut me down after using her as leverage, and then sent her on her way? A living, breathing witness to their crimes? No... we both know Ekvan and his dogs would have violated her like a Sunberth whore before slicing her to pieces. 'Callous'?"

The Myrian pointed towards the female, eyes twinkling in the high rays of Syna.

"I saved her, and there was no fortune to it, my friend. I've been using this-" he patted the gladius at his hip, a trusted companion since he was barely an adolescent "-long enough to know where I'll wound and where I'll kill. Which is exactly what I did. On both counts."

His eyes grew turgid a moment, losing their granite certainty. The possibility of trying to lie to and deceive the stern figure before him... his mind couldn't even grasp it. It would be like speaking untruths to Myri herself, and-

Wait... could it be...? No. No, the gods would not appear to me. I'm a savage, and they scorn the Children of Myri. They care only for the barbarians...

But the worm of doubt was burrowing its way through him, and his next words came out... almost choked. The emotion and horror and anguish of that day flooding back up to him like a geyser. The sight of her, all the blood... Goddess, how strange and terrible it was to see his blade causing a wound in one he loved... and now he knew this... thing, would see all that, too.

"I did what I had to," he growled, voice barely carrying across the icy wind that whipped across the rock-strewn clearing, sending the grasses shivering as it went, "I took the only chance that was left to me." His eyes flickered briefly to Edreina's blue, wide stare... and so much passed in that hazy, regretful, proud tick. "Thus, I do not feel the need to atone for anything..."

by **Edreina** on November 19th, 2013, 1:52 am

Through the Myrian's monologue, Edreina felt a faint roiling in her stomach. Up until this point, she had not questioned the actions of the Myrian that day. Sure, she had nearly died, but the fact of the matter was, when it came right down to it, she had survived. They both had. Razkar could easily have decided to cut her away like the weighted burden she was, saving him infinite troubles. But, she had trusted him to do what was best in that situation and exactly that had been done. She trusted that there had been no other way. Even now, her shoulder still caused her some troubles, but that mattered not. It was worth it to have survived. Was it not? Aside from that, she had grown so much since that day. The knowledge she had gained alone was worth it.

But in the presence of the god and beneath the sound of his glinting voice, Edreina felt a touch of worry enter her heart. Had that truly been the only option or was it the only one that a battle-minded man could see? Even at her novice level, the hypnotist had learned enough about people and the way that they worked to know that there was always more than one way to work a situation. For once the Svefra held her tongue, even averting her eyes as Razkar glanced over at her. It felt wrong for her trust in him to be upset so easily and yet, it was. Her heart shuddered and paused for a tick, causing her hand to rise to the hollow at the base of her throat. Blue eyes flew to the god, then back to Razkar. Somewhere deep within herself, the young woman knew that something was not right. She was left only to wonder what it was.

by **Balderdash** on November 19th, 2013, 2:40 am

"Do not make excuses, Razkar of the shorn skulls." intoned the God, his voice a burning desert storm. The earth shook; birds fled skyward. To look at him watered the eyes. "Even then you knew there was another way. You chose yours because it was the surest way to kill your enemy. Myri may smile at that, but I do not." And with that, he reached forward and laid his hand on Razkar's heart.

Immediately, the warrior felt a horrible withering sensation; as if he had suffered a burn to his soul. The clearing appeared to darken for an instant. Though he seemed to exert very little effort, the contact was more than enough to stagger. If Razkar chose to examine his now burning chest, he would see words in Shiber, black as midnight, etched into the skin above his heart. Words that spelled out his crimes. "Who am I?" said the deity, "I am the god of Biyram, Zariah, and their children. I am the ally of Priskil, Tyveth, and Avalis. The Syliran Knights call me The Holy One. In the common tongue, my name is Yahal."

The warrior's words had most definitely had an effect, but perhaps not the one he had been hoping for. "I had hoped your conscience would allow you to understand your sins. Perhaps this will get the message through instead." he said darkly. "I will return in one year, Razkar. We will see what you have learned then."

He held his arm out towards towards the Myrian's nautical companion then. One of his wings spread, sending dancing points of light across the clearing; perhaps to beckon her forward? If she moved to his side, the arm would fall gingerly around her shoulders. The other arm gestured with his words, "To see goodness, look no further than Edreina. She does not feel the need to wade into the mire you so eagerly dive into. She speaks from her heart, and acts honestly. She has no great and terrible enemies, for such behavior will not wrong anyone. She lives thankful for what Laviku gives her, and trusts him to keep her from harm."

Yahal looked down at her then, a soft smile coming to his face again, "This is a good path; one filled with much happiness and good fortune." His wings bunched together and rustled slightly. A sign of nervousness? "One that I strive to keep my followers on, if they will accept me."

by **Razkar** on November 19th, 2013, 3:30 am

"Do not make excuses, Razkar of the Shorn Skulls."

There was an explosion without sound; a tornado without the hint of wind, and Razkar staggered back as the ground trembled under him. Every living creature save the three of them fled without mind or thought, scurried and flew and burrowed away from the power of an angry god.

"Even then you knew there was another way. You chose yours because it was the surest way to kill your enemy. Myri may smile at that, but I do not."

Confused, infuriated, battered by winds and by words, the Myrian's patience finally snapped and he ground his feet into the writhing dirt, baring his teeth even as the true divine nature of what he beheld struck him like a fist. But the disdain of the vision tore him, wounded him, stripped him back to nights he'd sat by Edreina's bedside after he... "saved" her.

All his hate for Ekvan and his rage at the whims of the fates for throwing them all in that darkened hold burst out in a screech of his native tongue.

"There was no other way!" He shouted, as if his voice were in a hurricane. "I could not see it even if there was! I couldn't let them kill her! I couldn't-"

Then that hand, golden and refined and solid as the foundations of Mizahar, reached out and touched him.

Words stalled and festered non his lips. Pain, sickening and vicious, wound through every muscle in his body. Never had the Myrian felt agony like this; a numbing of his senses to the point of one at the very brink of Dira's final visit. Out of instinct he tried to rally, but a great weight forced him down to his knees, supplicating before a god... and that was what it was...

Razkar looked up through unbelieving eyes... and beheld-

"I am the god of Biyram, Zariah, and their children. I am the ally of Priskil, Tyveth, and Avalis. The Syliran Knights call me The Holy One. In the common tongue, my name is Yahal."

Burning... scratching... like a tattoo carved deeper than mere flesh. He didn't want to, but his eyes were drawn down, widening in sheer horror as unseen hands wove their scripture onto his chest. Words alien to him and yet unmistakable were suddenly etched on him as if they'd been there since birth.

Betrayer.

Violator.

Monster.

"What..." His voice was cracked and croaked like the most feeble of Elder's, mind still unable to process the curse laid upon him. "What did... you... do...?"

"I had hoped your conscience would allow you to understand your sins. Perhaps this will get the message through instead. I will return in one year, Razkar. We will see what you have learned then."

Then Yahal moved away from him... towards Edreina. Instinct kicked in again, foolish and undeniable but driving the Myrian up to one knee, hand fumbling for his gladius, useless as it would be. But though his flesh was pathetic before him, that bloody-minded will would not cease, and his voice came out in a snarl until he choked on bile.

"Leave... Leave her al... alone...!"

"To see goodness, look no further than Edreina. She does not feel the need to wade into the mire you so eagerly dive into. She speaks from her heart, and acts honestly. She has no great and terrible enemies, for such behavior will not wrong anyone. She lives thankful for what Laviku gives her, and trusts him to keep her from harm."

But there was no attack; no horrible revisiting of the terror Yahal had laid upon him. Razkar would rather this "Yahal" just finish him there than have him witness the same pain done to Edreina. But some part of his mind still lucid whispered that the gods had very, very long lives... and their plans and punishments were much more subtle than a gladius to the throat.

He listened; he really listened. Yahal's words were as coaxing and glowing of Edreina as they had been wrathful to Razkar. He touched her almost delicately, as if afraid to break her, and the Myrian felt his eyes well as a life he could not understand was laid out in terms he could.

He felt... stained. Like he had failed.

"This is a good path; one filled with much happiness and good fortune. One that I strive to keep my followers on, if they will accept me."

In the sudden stillness of the clearing, Razkar felt his world crash around his ears. His heart pounded in them and he felt the shameful sobbing chokes of an anguished child tighten his throat. He felt... jealousy... something he'd never associated with Edreina before. But to see the god favor her so... it chewed at his resolve, threatened to darken what glimmer of conscience he-

No. No more. Not again. Or are you nothing but a dumb male who can never change?

"Then give it to her!" He managed to blurt, shoulders bobbing as if he were gripped by fever, eyes pleading, begging, heedless of the gnosis at his neck growling its disapproval. "If... If you protect her... I will... I will follow..."

Panic and sorrow flushed through him and Razkar's mouth snapped open in a silent scream as his ribcage seemed to tighten around his heart, that loathsome mark flaring into malevolent life. His collapsed backward and his vision swam, colors and edges blurring and running together.

The god. His female. Those final worlds of prophecy and warning and the hint of redemption. His lips tried to mouth "please"... and then all was darkness.

by **Edreina** on November 19th, 2013, 7:16 am

Seeing someone you loved in agony was never easy. And yet, despite the way her legs trembled, urging to rush to his side as whatever Yahal had done took its toll upon the Myrian, she remained rooted in place. The look on his face was enough to tear at her heart, to torment her mind. How could something that caused so much pain, that tortured another mentally and physically, ever be right.

Just as she could not move towards Razkar, she could not move away from Yahal as he approached. In the warrior's snarl, she heard concern for another, for her, though the words were too mangled for her to decipher. The young lover wanted nothing more than to comfort him. But, her eyes were drawn inexplicably back to Yahal. Everything he said of her was true and so oddly familiar, as if she had heard those words before, perhaps in a dream.

Then, his words turned into an assurance that tugged at her soul. All of the times she worried over her weakness, the trust she so easily placed in others, the trust she placed in herself, they all seemed to fade into nothingness. They were powerful waves of self-doubt, yes, but they could not prevail against an adamant coast.

And then the words of a broken man brought her back into the moment, jerking her head to the side so sharply that, bound though it was, her hair whirled and flickered in the sunlight like a torch's flame. In an instant, legs of stone were pushed into motion as she rushed to Razkar's side. He lay as shattered as the woman they had first chanced upon but he was still with life. The quaking, halting rise and fall of his chest proved that much. "Razkar," she gasped, taking one of his large, calloused hands in both of hers. An instrument of pain and destruction was transformed in an instant by the woman's gentle touch as she brought it to her cheek.

Usually sleep robbed him of his fierceness and the weight he carried. But this rest was a fitful one, and it showed in his strained features. A war was going on even in his own mind, contorting his body as it rebelled the treatment of Yahal.

Blue eyes bore more liquid than normal when she turned back to the god, trembling faintly. In the time she had known him, Razkar had always been a pillar of strength to her, someone she could trust in and rely upon. The impact that shattered him sent faint tremors of fear and a lack of surety darting through the Svefra. "I will not question what you have done... I trust that you know this is right for whatever reason... I trust you to know the repercussions of this..." She let his hand fall from her cheek and lay it gently in her lap, fingertips tracing the indecipherable scrawl across his chest. The hard edges of the words and their inky black contrast seemed to bear more malevolence than any tattoo previously upon his body.

"Yahal..." the name felt familiar upon her lips, as if it had been there before or should have been long ago. She sighed softly, tracing his scarred knuckles and scarred chest, waiting for him to wake; this was not the end of his pain. "Yahal, watch over us... Let him be guided to a path of enlightenment... Give me the strength to bear his pain alongside him, so that the weight does not topple him..." The entire sentiment was spoken like a prayer despite the proximity of the deity being besought so fervently. Her last words seemed to trail off, dropping into a whisper. That time it was to herself that she prayed, searching her soul for the strength to do as she commanded.

She was not without hope; the opposite was true. But, the pragmatic side of so idealistic a woman knew that a hard time lay before them... Her hope lay in their ability to face it together.

Secret :

by **Balderdash** on November 20th, 2013, 5:43 am

The grass Yahal stepped over did not break as he approached Razkar, and there was no rustle when he knelt down next to Edreina. "The first time can often cause some shock..." he admitted, "Especially among the more bullish."

The Svefra's words, high praise to the deity, caused his feathers to rustle and his features to warm. "I watch over all my followers, Edreina." he said quietly, taking one of the girl's hands and placing it between his own. If she looked down at them, she would notice that they were covered in fine black letters of Shiber, "I love them like I would my children."

She felt something melting into her hand then, something warm and wonderful that buoyed her spirits and strengthened her constitution. The irrational fears and doubts that made her question her worth were swept away as effortlessly as cobwebs by the God of purity. "For you, Edreina, I give the strength and fortitude to weather the storms that may threaten you." he said as he released her hand. If she looked at her palm, she would see a single letter in the same ink as that which decorated the deity's hands. "And for Razkar..."

Yahal reached into his sleeve then, and withdrew a glittering scroll case, made of gold and adorned with rubies."A gift to help him understand the path he says he will take. A Penita scroll." An awful plain one as well, if Edreina chose to open the scroll she was handed. Simple Common on common paper.

"One last thing," he said as he rose, "When Razkar awakes, relay this to him: In the city of Nyka there is a mirror. In the mirror is the answer he has been searching for until now. Should he desire closure... He should go there."

"I will be with you both..." Yahal murmured... And then he was gone. Faded out of existence, by appearances. The pair were left with a very expensive scroll case, a pair of gnosis marks, and some seemingly suicidal instructions.

by **Edreina** on November 21st, 2013, 12:43 am

The symbols upon Yahal's hands fascinated the young woman, drawing her eyes and her mind. Their meaning escaped her, but that the god would see fit to adorn himself in such a way led her to believe that each one held some sort of power, or perhaps meaning to him. Curiosity rose and danced through her mind as she fought the urge to have him explain each and every one.

Of course, the fight did not last long. She gasped quietly as warmth flooded her hand, and then her soul. The feeling was indescribable in and of itself, but she could relate it to other sensations. Pulling yourself from the chilled, salty Suvan to rest upon a Syna bleached deck was the warmth that spread through her body. Her soul experienced the high that came with feeling the wind at her back as she bounced along on the waves, surrounded by endless blue on a journey to some foreign shore. Without realizing that she had closed her eyes, she opened them again as he released her hand.

The sensation was not gone, but something in her still felt different. It was a subtle difference that even she was not actively aware of, but a new strength flooded her limbs and fortified her thoughts. It was an out of body experience, to be sure, as she took the scroll case from the god and nodded in recognition of his instructions. Before she could thank him, or get a single syllable off of her tongue, for that matter, he was gone.

Once gone, Edreina finally looked at her palm, the source of the earlier warmth, and realized with a start that it had not been a stand-alone phenomena. The tattoo marking the meatier part of her palm was a fragment of what she had seen on his hands. It did not move as her gnosis from Laviku did, so it took nearly a tick for her to realize that she had been blessed by the feathered god, Yahal. If I've been blessed...

Her heart seized, and her breath caught. Upon the chest she knew so well, three black words stood out, as if-

The feeling was the same.

When she had seen Wrenmae for the first time, she had known in an instant that he bore a curse from her father Laviku. At first, her stomach had revolted and knotted as it did now, being seized by an aversion that transcended moral senses. In truth, she had known that he had been cursed from the moment that Yahal's searing touch had alit upon his dusky skin. But, it was hard to admit that, as she was Blessed, her lover had been Cursed.

"Oh... Razkar..." Her voice was a broken whisper as she placed her palm against the marks. It was as if she hoped that her blessing would negate his curse and they would both be left the same person they had set out as that morning. At that time, she knew not the side effects of either mark, only that in that moment both of their lives had been changed.

In silence she would wait at his side, one hand on his chest the other holding his own against her chest. How somber a scene it must have been, a woman sitting beside her fallen warrior as a woman slept eternally only feet away.

When finally he woke, a smile would claim her face, though it was tight and worried. "Yahal left this to you," she would say quietly, handing him the scroll case. She was not the sort to read a message left for another; even if she did, it was unlikely that it would mean anything to her. "He also said that if you seek true closure, that there is a mirror in Nyka that can give it to you." Nyka was not a major port city; Edreina scant little about the city itself and just about nothing of the danger it presented a Myrian.

"Are you... ok?" The words felt like a feather entirely unfitting the weight of their situation... But it was a start.

by **Razkar** on November 21st, 2013, 3:21 am

He dreamed in the midst of a great storm, and he could no escape its eye. He knew it was a dream; he seemed to be... stepping outside from himself. Though it was his own eyes that saw it all, the clouds and the thunder and the lightning and the terrible tapestry they wrought across the tortured sky, it was like... something formed by memory.

Or prophecy.

The Myrian looked around his feet and saw sand. Endless sand. Rolling into dunes and valleys, stretching to dark mountains lurking on the horizons. The clouds hung low, pulsing and vibrating with hidden lightning... but the eye was clear...

And it spoke to him. In a voice that could have shattered those mountains chased the lightning from the skies and sent his shades stumbling back onto the burning sands.

The words rattled through his bones and into his soul and then-

Razkar's eyes snapped open and the waking world flooded into him like the Suvan through a bottleneck. His gasped down a lungful of air, blue orbs suddenly taking up his whole vision as she swam into focus. Grass under his back and his tingling head. The salt on the breeze... Zeltiva. That was where he was. They'd been hunting, and then-

"Are..." His voice caught and a hacking cough bought some life back to it. "Are you... hurt...?"

She was not, and told him as much, but his hands scoured her anyway. A kaleidoscope of nameless feared paraded before his eyes, and despite her words, her calm but concerned expression, Razkar did not stop until he was satisfied.

"Yahal left this to you..."

Razkar frowned at the strange bejeweled cylinder. His eyes widened when he saw the shining metal was gold, and rubies encrusted it. What he held in his hands was easily worth double what he'd been paid for a whole season battling Yukmen and stinking of ox dung... and yet... hollow?

"It is... a scroll?" He said, curiosity overwhelming him as he turned it over and over. But it didn't last, and he gripped it so hard his hand shook before. "To the hells with it-!"

The savage spat his words with every ounce of venom he had for the being that had sunk a dagger into his soul. He tossed a fortune (in more than mizas) away from him in disgust. What would he want with anything from that? He that had terrified him, weakened him, stripped bare his sins and judged him based on his heathen concept of morality. Razkar's lips curled into a snarl of hatred and he didn't see Edreina's lips move in a silent, pleading prayer...

So engrossed was he, in fact, that he didn't see her nimble fingers quickly and quietly retrieve the scroll and pocket it. He was more concerned with his chest...

"They're... They're still..."

"He also said that if you seek true closure, that there is a mirror in Nyka that can give it to you."

Razkar shot her a look that dripped with fury, and then quickly averted his eyes when Edreina shrunk from him as if struck. The fear on her face was one thing; but knowing it was he that put it there doused his rage more than fear of Yahal ever could. When he looked up again, years seemed to have taken their toll on him; especially in his eyes, looking back at her from a distance of two feet and a thousand years

"Are you... ok?"

The Myrian sighed and growled at once, bowing his head and clasping it as if it was about to split. He shook it and made his way laboriously to his feet, words coming out in grunts and growls.

"No... I am not... but I will be... when we get home..."

Then he remembered the girl. Valentine. Dira's palor had settled over her like a shroud and her lips were turning blue. Soon her skin would go the same way... and Razkar felt a tug of unfamiliar anguish at his heart as he imagined the jackals and vultures and creeping, scuttling things of the Wildlands all converging on this very succulent meal. Alone. Forgotten. Even by the god, it seemed, who had taken such pity on her...

"... and we get her home..."

Those words came out as a whisper, and without waiting for support or even comment he picked the girl up. Goddess... it never ceased to surprise him what the body gained when the soul departed. Even this waif seemed heavier with rigor mortis setting in, but he still gathered her up and began a slow, halting walk back to civilization, tendrils of silk whipping and caressing his arms as he went.

He was a savage in the barbarian lands; all eyes perceived him with either disgust, fear or wariness. That was all without a dead girl in his arms... but...

"We cannot leave her here..."

He trudged onward. There would be much explaining to do with people unwilling to hear it. But he would. Because whoever this barbarian maiden was, she deserved more than an open grave in the Wildlands.

The Myrian halted a few yards and turned to Edreina, still standing behind him. Some flicker of his old fire glowed again in his sad smile as he caught her eye... an ember of the curious wit inhabiting a mind few outside Falyndar would have assumed was there.

"Coming? I hope so..." Then he kept walking, but his words skittered on the breeze to her ears. "You will be doing the talking, I think..."

Closed And Not To Yield (Edreina)