The Bonds That Tie Us

Alfhild felt the threat, even if Deidre hadn't intended to be as such. By given her the option of either being her companion or of telling Erund, Deidre was pushing herself into the group. Naturally, if Erund discovered what Alfhild was truly after, he'd try to stop her. While she felt that her combat prowess would certainly be more than a match for most Fenrir warriors, Alfhild held no illusions that she could hope to take on Erund's group. She'd be on the run. If they had a tracker in their number, the run would become much harder. So the choice wasn't a choice at all. Even though she had doubts about many things that Deidre claimed, Alfhild would allow her to come along. The mission was paramount. So if that meant taking a little blackmail, if that meant she had to play along with Deidre, if that meant dealing with a Daemon, she would. After all, she felt that the ancestors had simply decided to spit on her existence anyway. What were the final few steps down to hell when compared to that if it would get her accepted in the here and now?

Alfhild let the silence stretch. To give the impression she was thinking it over while she continued to stare at Deidre neutrally. Finally, she spoke and said, "alright. We'll work together to find a Shaman and I'll consider all you said. We'll leave now." She rose, leaving the key to her room on the table and whipped up her chain hood and helm. Lastly, she scooped the doll off the table, looking at it fully for the first time. "Him" is what she said, Alfhild thought as she examined the doll, why would she believe that? Then, she tossed the thought aside like a coin one picks up to consider its value before realizing it was a shiny rock. Pointless. All of what Deidre had said would be proven true or false in time, some of it would be proven before Alhild even had to make a decision. There was plenty of time, for now.

@Maeriel
 
From her hiding spot Ara could just see the silhouette of her sister step into view through the doorway of the mill. Lis was here, and all Ara's fear rushed out of her as she was filled instead with a glow of happiness at seeing her sister come for her. She couldn't help herself then; before Lis had even finished speaking, Ara was dashing into her, curling herself against the older girl's chest.
She took the moment of comfort, saying nothing, before her eyes bulged in realisation and she pulled away tugging at her sister's hand.
"They'll be coming it's a trap, it has to be. They're inside me Lis. You need to go."
It wasn't until this point that she looked passed her sister to see the rest of the party. Immediately her eyes found Isaac and she felt a surge of joy. He was here, he was safe.
"Isaac!"
She almost ran to him, taking several steps before registering the strangers and hurrying back behind her sister. The man at the front carried the colours of the Mage Hunters and it sent a shiver through Ara's spine. Another young lad held the hunter's colours, and beside him, the most beautiful woman Ara had ever seen. Second only the the memory of her mother. Ara pulled her gaze to her sister, taking several steps back. Had she tricked her? Had it all been a cruel trap?
 
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"Ara!" Isaac grinned with relief at the sight of his friend, safe and sound. He hadn't wanted to interrupt the sisters' reunion, but now that Ara had turned her attention to him, he dismounted as best he could and rushed towards her. He'd had practice with horses, but he was still getting his legs back under him, and the motion was unsteady and awkward, though he managed to stay upright.

The moment Ara saw the colors their party rode under, Isaac could tell. Her face dropped, joy replaced by fear and anger. Betrayal. She turned to Lis, but Isaac jumped in. "Ara, it's alright, I promise. It wasn't a trap, you- we- we're safe with these men, despite their banner." He cautiously closed the last of the gap between himself and the sisters, hands held up pacifyingly.

"I don't know who they are," he said in a lower voice so only Lis and Ara could hear, "but they rescued me from the Seekers who found us, talking about 'fair trials' and just treatment of prisoners." He touched his neck gingerly, wincing at the raw burns there. He would have to heal those at some point soon. "I told the Lord Inquisitor the truth about Pa and Carson, and I think he believed me. At the very least, he released me from that collar and allowed me the use of my magic. Your sister as well. I don't think these men are like the others, at least not the older."

Isaac shot a look over his shoulder to where the rest of the group still waited a distance off with the horses. "They don't treat us like prisoners, at the least, though you would know better than I." He directed the last comment at Elise. While they had the opportunity to speak without being overheard, he wanted to hear her assessment of the situation. In truth, all he knew about Stavros and Illian was what he had said. He had no idea where they were going, and no real reason to trust them beyond that they were better than the Seekers who had initially captured him.
 
Elise was momentarily blinded as she left the sunny outside to the darkness of the mill's entrance, which only made her startle more to her sister's sudden dash to her arms. For a second she flinched as Ara barreled into her arms, she'd be feeling that later, when she dropped the magical numbing of her pain, but now... now she felt the incredible relief, the hammering of her heart, and the slightness of her little sister as she wrapped her in her arms, like she would never let her go. Her honeyed eyes couldn't contain the tears as the emotions of the harrowing last few days hit her and she held her sister tight, laying a kiss on her forehead. "Ladybug! Thank the Goddess!"

The moment was brief as fear once more had its impact on Ara and she started speaking of traps and things too fast for Elise to properly follow her train of thought. Before she could say anything, Ara darted a few steps out into the light, to her friend. The woman quickly wiped the moisture from her features with the backs of her hands before stepping out after her, and by then, Ara was behind her. Elise opened her mouth to explain, but could see she was already losing Ara again. She raised her hands, but was immensely relieved to see Isaac intervening, perhaps the young man would reach her sister better than she could, since Ara had lost faith in Elise already.

"He's right." Elise added when Isaac finished, quietly like him, a conversation between the three. "He could have taken me to the Mage Tower, he should have..." The events flashed before her eyes, trying to get Valerie away from a horrible fate, getting interrupted by the two, hit by Stavros and all that came after... Lis halfway brought her hand to the numbed ring around her neck, but thought best not to call Ara's attention to it, for she would have to explain things she'd prefer never to have to tell Ara at all. The promise had been left hanging in the air, after all. She'd have to pay for her crime... but that wouldn't help at all now. Elise needed to make sure that Ara was safe, then she could worry about her own fate.

"Stavros is the eldest, he says that the Braedon's Mage Hunter chapter is doing forbidden things, these two are not with them. They took us out of the city, helped release Isaac and find you, but you are right, we need to go, we can't stay here. I am never going to let anyone hurt you ever again. Can you trust me, Ladybug? If not me... then your friend." She motioned to Isaac.

@AJPhips @inkdragon
 
Ara's anxiety lessened a little, though she was not at all at ease. The thought of travelling with these men frightened her, even if she had two allies by her side. The irony of her sister's next words brought her panic rushing back with such force she stumbled a little. Elise wouldn't let anyone hurt Ara? No, Ara was the one who was a danger to others, and it broke her heart to know she couldn't go with them.

"W-we? No, no! I-I can't go with you." Ara took several deliberate steps back her arms out stretched, not trusting herself with the temptation of leaving with them. "I-I can't- they're in me- they're in my head. I'll hurt you, they'll make me - I'll want to." Ara's words rushed out over the top of each other, growling more panicked and indecipherable as she ground the palms of her hands into her head. Though she had squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn't stop the tears from leaking.

"Go- please!" She pleaded with large eyes "They made me come here, it's a trap!"

Once again Ara could feel her magic boiling beneath her, fighting to be released, though the barrier held it just below the surface. Her panic was growing and Ara could barely think straight. She couldn't go with them. She had to be alone. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She didn't want to be a monster. And she couldn't breath.
She would have run then, as far and as long as her already fatigued body would take her, if it wasn't for the pain beginning to burn inside her. Just like the night she had run from Braedon, Ara felt the unbearable pain as her magic battled to escape and rise out with her panic. It was all too much and Ara fought for her breath through the growing pain. She couldn't help the cry from escaping her lips as she struggled to remain standing.

@Maeriel @inkdragon
 
Isaac had seen this before, when Ara had sensed the Mage Hunters coming for them on the plains. He grabbed her arm to steady her, but he couldn't support her weight on his own and ended up helping her to the ground. "Ara. Listen to me. Breathe. Just listen to my voice and breathe." He focused his magic as he spoke, lacing it into his voice to soothe the panic that was fighting for control in Ara's mind. He had never tried to heal the mind before, but he figured it couldn't be too different from the rest of the body. All he did was offer a calming suggestion to his words, like a lifeline for Ara to grab onto. He would not tamper with anything, she would have to do the rest herself.

"You won't hurt us," Isaac assured her. "We can hold our own, I promise. If staying with you is a risk, it is a risk we are all willing to take. But you need to breathe and allow us to help you. You can't do this alone, but you don't have to, either."

He looked over his shoulder to Lis and even to the rest of the party, searching for help, for something to say. Truthfully, he was worried. Ara's premonition had been accurate before, and the Mage Hunters did seem to have some sort of hold over her, though he did not know what. Stavros had mentioned an experiment, that was all he knew. He did not have the words he needed to truly set Ara's mind at ease, he could not honestly tell her she would be alright, but he did know he was not leaving her again. He could tell her that much.
 
Stavros had remained mounted and silently witnessed the emotional scene unfold, part of him was relieved that the girl seemed to be in good health and reunited with familly and friends. Another; darker, part of him was not so thrilled with actually having found her. Stavros was at a loss , he had no clue how to continue from this point and the sensation was completely alien to the experienced Witch Hunter. he had betrayed his order for a right cause, but they would not see it this way and Ara was a valuable subject to the Braedon chapter which they would not part with easily. The gravity of their situation overwhelmed him and Stavros pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply and muttering a curse under his breath.

Illian had been silent, following in the back with only his thoughts for company. The elven maiden had exchanged words with him and then left him to consider the insights she had shared with him. They took root more then she realized, Illian had been shaped and molded because of the influence of others and the advice shared by the elf set of a chain reaction which had been gnawing at him ever since. As the reunion unfolded Illian slowly rode up and stopped next to Stavros. His mentor was obviously having a moment of self reflection and posibly even regret. His impulsive behavior had brought them this far and now...what now? Normally Illian would wait until Stavros made time to explain his plans and intent. but not now, not anymore... As the intention grew within Illian his chin raised and his chest puffed, while The Lord Inquisitor sagged his Squire rose. He spoke loudly, his tone cutting through the air and drowning out conversation of the others. There was no care or kindness in his voice, in fact the young half elf sounded quite angry, a sharpness to his tone directed entirely at his mentor, his verdant eyes locked on the older man as he spoke.

"I think that before we do anything from this point on we all deserve some answers... Stavros has taken it upon himself to take our lives and our futures in his own hands without giving us anything of substance to hold on to. You went into the Mage Tower and discovered something that made you turn on your own order and turn us all into fugitives by association... Those Mage Hunters saw us, in your presence... that is done now, without any of us having ANY to say about it!... So I for one am not doing ANYTHING until I know what is going on!"

Illian looked like he could strike out at Stavros at any point..he was fuming. Those Mages immediately around him were treated with a very uncomfortable sensation, like Magic was turning sour. Illian had neither the strength or focus to rob them from their ability to call upon it but it did make it unpleasant. What usually felt like a familiar power or "flow" now felt like a poisoned well that they were forced to drink of, it caused headaches and a sharp itch in the teeth. It made calling on one's gift near Illian (1 or two meters at most) more difficult.

None was more shocked by the passionate and angry words of the youth then Stavros, the Lord Inquisitor seemed taken aback and utterly surprised at the "sudden" turn in the young man's disposition towards him. He blinked and shook his head a little, utterly confused and even somewhat hurt.

"Illian..." He began..
 
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Deirdre watched expectantly, but still patient, as Alfhild seemed to mull over her words. The Seer was aware that she hadn't left the other woman much space for a decision, so she wondered whether all that thinking was Alfhild considering the possibility of luring Deirdre away and stabbing her in the night. The woman's eyes certainly were unfriendly enough not to rule out the chance entirely, in Deirdre's point of view...

When the answer finally came, some of the palpable tension that had hung like heavy smoke in the air was dissipated. Deirdre's jaw relaxed a bit, the crease between her eyebrows nearly faded and her shoulders relaxed for a moment. Of all the options that had crossed her head with the visions that had flashed in her dreams the previous nights, that's the one that the Seer felt best about.

Deirdre felt ashamed of how her gift was a weak, unreliable thing. She rarely had seen things of much importance, but this... This felt vital. She had to be involved in it, she had to play her part... Even if it meant her end...

Grey eyes blinked after the long silence that stretched and then she responded. "If you insist. Get whatever provisions you might need from the innkeeper and I will get my things and say my goodbyes. Don't worry, I will not say what is it all about, you have my word, but they are my brothers in arms and I can't simply disappear. I will meet you at the gates within the hour." Unless any other words were exchanged, Deirdre pushed the door open, brisk wind whipping her platinum blonde hair as she ventured out into the night.

@Shadras
 
Victory. A small victory, but Alfhild would take it. Deidre went along with all her words without objection. Certainly, Deidre may be about to warn her brothers about what Alfhild was doing, but she'd take that chance. Waiting until about a minute had passed until she herself left. There was no need of picking up more supplies, her pack had plenty. In fact, buying food itself was a pretense to start conversing with the tavern keeper. And, while sleeping in a bed would be nice, Alfhild wanted to put some decent distance between herself and the village. With all their talk, she didn't trust that at least one villager hadn't figured out too much and would turn them over to the orcs or other Fenrir. Hopefully, Deidre's friends would share that distance. The less people that came along, the more likely that Alfhild could seize control.

She made her way to the gate to wait. There wasn't any reason to break away from Deidre and, again, they may just simply track her down of she did. So while she wasn't happy to have a companion for the journey, Alfhild was glad that she hadn't lost all control, yet.

@Maeriel
 
Morning

Flashes before my eyes, seconds flying by,
Impression familiar, fleeting apparition


He wakes in a cold sweat. Pain courses up and down his veins. Sindarin feels something tug at his flesh, and then a warm, sticky wetness trickling down the side of his chin. A trembling hand reaches up slowly to touch his face. Bringing it away, Sindarin winces at the sight of the ruby red droplets stained on the tips of his fingers. Moving, his hands and arms shake as they push hay aside. Reaching next to him, the sound of an object scraping on the ground can be heard as he picks up a small, intricately carved lockbox.

His fingers fumble at the clasp holding the box shut. Eventually unclasping it after a few seconds, the hinges open. He brings out a small, beautifully carved wooden mirror. The design of an two leaves, interwoven with each other runs across the surface of the mirror upon which the reflective glass has been inlaid.

Lifting it up, Sindarin looks to himself. A pale, scarred face stares back at him. Blackened, swollen eyes stare at him from the mirror, the edges of them encrusted with dried blood. Large, angry gashes gouge his face. One of the scars seems to have split open. It is this scar that weeps blood, dripping down the side of his face to the floor. His white hair falls limp and lifeless.

Sindarin sighs, holding the mirror down and placing it gently next to him. His head slumps.

Minutes and hours bound together, distance intensifies,
Nothing in my memory, telling me how or why.


The dream burns in his mind.

***​

Standing in front of him is a woman dressed entirely in white. Sindarin's heart leaps as he walks towards her. She stands in the center of a wooded grove. Behind her, a sparkling blue lake runs through the heart of the glade. Overhead, the trees gather, parting in the center to let a single, strong ray of sunlight shine through, illuminating the woman.

His heart fluttering like a bird trapped in a gilded cage, Sindarin approaches her slowly. Standing in front of her, he takes her hand in his and he falls to one knee. Smiling, Sindarin brings her hand to his lips. Then, he reaches into his tunic pocket, and he retrieves a gleaming, golden pendant. On its base was the carving of two leaves, interlinked and interwoven with each other. The light reflected off the pendant, glinting from the ray of sunshine that came through.

As he looks up at the woman, the woman whom he had willingly given his heart and soul to, his voice was both strong and clear.

"Lillith Al'Neiana. It does my heart proud to give you this, a token of my everlasting love. My heart is yours Lillith Al'Neiana for all eternity."

On Sindarin's neck was a matching pendant. Two leaves, interwoven and interlinked, belonging together for all eternity.


***​

Shaking his head, Sindarin closes his eyes. The vision....it was so strong, so intense. That carving, two leaves curling around with each other, what did it mean? Looking to the carving on the small mirror, Sindarin shakes his head. He cannot remember, and each time he reaches out with grasping, probing thoughts in his consciousness he is denied..... The swirling miasma of grey fog encompasses him, blocking him.

His hand moves up to touch something small hanging around his neck. Golden eyes glance down. A pendant. Hanging around his neck. Shaped like two leaves, interwoven for an eternity and beyond.

"Lillith Al'Neiana," he whispers to himself. The name triggers something deep down inside him. A lingering remnant buried deep within his heart. A sharp wave of agony sudden in its intensity.

There is sorrow attached to that name, but Sindarin.....he does not know why. It is something lost......lost in the swirling veil that engulfs his thoughts and memories.

Screams. Screams and fire.

The sudden onset of another image. The vision....it was so sharp, so clear, so painful.

Wife? Have I.....was I.....married?

The thought did not make any sense. None of it made any sense. There was a note under the mirror. Picking it up with trembling hands, Sindarin opens it.

To my husband, my heart will remain yours always and forever.

Folding the piece of parchment, he places it gently back in the lockbox, and then puts the mirror back over the parchment. Closing it, he places the lockbox within the folds of the brown leather jerkin that he wore.

Soft words escape from cracked and parched lips. "How can I find answers when I don't even know what the questions are?"

Breathing heavily, he glances around. Golden eyes take in their surroundings. A cold, dirt floor. Around him are cobwebs. At the far side of the room were broken cogs and other assorted machinery. It was almost as if there had been noone here for a while.....and outside of Sindarin, who was to say that there had been?

Clenching his fist, Sindarin closes his eyes in frustration. He had lost track of the amount of time he had dwelt within this old mill. The days had began to blur into each other. One day after the next, all the while searching for something that he could not possibly understand. The memories that were lost to him. Yet, if nothing else, the mill allowed him some small respite from the world at large. For the most part, noone passed, and when they did, Sindarin found it easy to hide the traces of his passing. Opening his hand, he closes his eyes. A small flame springs up into life in the middle of his palm, he watches it for a second before closing it. The flame disappears. Yes, it was best that the Mage Hunters did not know of his presence. The conjuring of the small light was but a simple cantrip, yet Sindarin dared not do more. The results of the magic that burned within him were.....unpredictable at best. His magic produced unexpected results, and there were times that this acted as a boon to him, and times that it was a hindrance. Yet he had learned through the long, painful roll of years not to call upon it unless it was absolutely necessary, for more reason than one.

Each day was the same. Wake. Forage. Search for answers that were never forthcoming. Sleep. Yet, even though this existence was empty, it was life.

Reaching backwards, Sindarin pulls the hood over his head, concealing his features.

It would not do for one to gaze upon his scarred features.

Sindarin exits the mill. As he opens the door, as he steps inside into the sunlight.....as he heads outside one more time, a ghost follows him. The ghost of a woman dressed in white, long blonde hair spilling down as it glints from the sunlight. She watches him, and she waits patiently.

She waits for the day that he frees himself from the prison that he has trapped himself deep within. She whispers, a voice that he will never hear again.

"I have died.....and I am the lucky one. I am free."

Perhaps Sindarin will never be free. Perhaps he will be imprisoned for an eternity and beyond, trapped within his own mind.

***​

It is afternoon when Sindarin returns. The crystal clear water of the nearby blue lake yielded its bounty, enough for the lost elf to live another day. Yet deep down he is empty and lost -- searching for answers that he cannot yet find.

Oblivious to what has happened inside the mill since he left, and the group around and within it, conflict brewing like a storm on the horizon, he takes one step after another, unaware as he does so that his path takes him towards change. Change, and perhaps the key to unlock a door. Would such be the strange hand of fate playing itself one more time?

As he approaches slowly, the scarred elf is unaware of one more thing. Another presence, watching him approach......
 
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Elise could see it all unfolding again, snowballing, Ara's panic rising, getting the best of her... it was at these moments that her magic would roil like an ocean storm and terrify her. Its absence was ever more eerie and Lis wondered if that was why her sister looked physically in pain. What have they done to you, Ladybug? Stavros owed her many answers and her patience was wearing thin. She reached out for Ara, but before she knew her and Isaac were on the ground. She could feel the tingling sensation of magic and wondered what kinds of things he actually could do. He spoke with her sister with such gentleness, telling Ara things Elise wanted to say. The woman knelt brushing a lock of hair of Ara's unruly locks behind her ear, the way their mom did.

"Ara, listen to him. Breathe, it is like a pond, sis. You can dip yourself in it slowly and lift yourself out, don't splash around, you'll lose yourself. When I-..."

"I think that before we do anything from this point on we all deserve some answers... Stavros has taken it upon himself to take our lives and our futures in his own hands without giving us anything of substance to hold on to. You went into the Mage Tower and discovered something that made you turn on your own order and turn us all into fugitives by association... Those Mage Hunters saw us, in your presence... that is done now, without any of us having ANY to say about it!... So I for one am not doing ANYTHING until I know what is going on!"

The young man's explosive reaction cut her short,and was completely expected, even if sudden. The blonde half-elf had been sulking ever since she woke up at that tavern, unhappy at every turn, aggravated by their presence and apparently by the presence of another elf. The way his shoulders were, his fists... Elise had taken part in quite a few duels and to make out of it you needed to pay attention to your opponents cues. Illian was about to lunge and that would lead nowhere good.

Her honey eyes looked back at Isaac for a moment, as if making sure he had his sister. Then Elise rose, walking closer with her bare hands in plain view as she gesticulated. "While I hardly believe this is a good moment to go turning on one another, Illian is right, Stavros. This is the moment for explanations. Now. Make it quick if you want us to move on and gain distance. Otherwise... I am leaving with my sister and you do whatever you are going to do. And I'll do what I have to do..." Her tone left no doubt how serious Elise was being.

@Scalerender @AJPhips @inkdragon @MJK2431 @Shadras @Valen
 
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Stavros shifted uncomfortably on his horse, shooting a frustrated and angered glance between illian and Elise, he sighed in reluctant defeat as his composure started to crack. He brought one gloved hand to his forehead, gathering his thoughts and weighing his words carefully before realising there was no more time for calculation. Another sigh, his hand lowering to retake the reigns of his steed.

"Fine..."He started.

I had reason to believe there were experimentation being done in Braedon as I previously mentioned... As such when i went into the Tower I did not bother with the ussual protocol of announcing and such, I threw every bit of privilege and command I could muster and managed to find my way through the laboratories... I bluffed my way past any questions and managed to infiltrate far enough to find out what they've done...

There was a certain weight behind his words, suggesting the gravity of what he had found out. he sighed deeply before continuing.

"Ara is what they've named a "Thrall"... The glyphs which have been infused into her body are a means to not only receive information of what she sees and hears but a manner of control over her actions..." He laboured to say the next part, admitting something he was not proud of. "It's how I knew she'd be here, I conveyed the impulse to her....The other test subjects you spoke of are not dead, not all of them. Three of them are somehow connected to Ara, speaking to them is how they send commands, in turn they "translate" what Ara sees by speaking her...thoughts...."

Illian was suitably stunned by the horrid description, his lips parting a bit to comment but he found himself unable to say anything of note.

"The process is rudimentary, inaccurate but they seem to have made enough progress to warrant a field-test... Which is why Ara is here, from what I understand she is powering much of the entire connection through her own use of Magic, the less she calls upon her gift the more difficult it will be for them to exert their control... i'm hoping Illian will be able to do the rest..."

"wait...WHAT?!" Illian suddenly erupted....
 
Vidar waited as the woman with raven hair called out for Ara, claiming to be her female, blood, pack mate and that they had her Isaac. Waited when Ara came dashing out to collide with her "sister" in one of those human embraces. He almost moved then, but caution kept him there. It may still be a clever trap or rouse, like a flower hiding a trap to eat the unwary fly that landed upon it. Luckily, the party wasn't troubling to keep their voices down, and he was able to discern some of what they said. Those who the others claimed to be Isaac and her "sister" seemed to try and comfort Ara as she shied away, before the blond one exploded in rage, exclaiming about demanding answers and refusal to continue without out them. Is the group somehow divided, Vidar thought. He strained to hear the party's response, especially the one from the eldest looking one. But he remained most focused on Ara, waiting for her to bolt or run fully in before reacting. Whether it be to charge out, or to sneak after them.

Or rather, he would if his ears did not alert him to a new presence. One that was climbing up the slight hill that he was hiding upon. It wouldn't have posed a problem, if it were not for the fact that the being were headed directly for where Vidar lay. If Vidar was feeling more than grams of emotion, he would have cursed his lack of attention. As it were, he crawled as quietly and as quickly as he dared, until he could fully see the man. Or perhaps beast. Scared with tangled white hair and meandering, but bright, eyes. Vidar's green eyes stared with the intensity of a wolf looking upon its prey, devouring every detail he could of the man. He had not seemed to realize Vidar's presence, but, to make certain, Vidar chose that restraining and, perhaps, silencing the man would be best until he learned everything. Time was short for, if Vidar waited much longer, the man would crest the hill and be visible to the entire party. Vidar shifted silently down the hill until, making certain that he would not be noticed by the party when he acted. A moment, and then a predatorial leap bore Vidar towards the man with a blank, expressionless, whisper of words upon his lips.

"Do not make a sound, if you cling to your safety."

@Scalerender @AJPhips @inkdragon @MJK2431 @Shadras @Valen
 
Ara had calmed down somewhat, getting a hold of her breathing as she clung onto the help Isaac offered her. Her focus was drawn away, however, by the sound of her name. The older man was talking about her as if she wasn't there, and perhaps he did think she was indisposed at the moment but it still annoyed the girl. The guards at the Mage Tower would do it, but none the less, out here it annoyed her. This was nothing, however, compared to the rage, confusion and denial she felt at his words. Someone was inside her, yes, they could see her thoughts and control them; she had guessed part of this already. In itself, this sent a shiver of disgust racing through her. Worse though, was his admittance to doing the same as the men he seemed to claim no allegiance to.

Ara stood back on her feet take several angry strides toward the man, fear replaced with anger.
She barely heard the rest of what he said as she fumed.
"You!" She spat, pointing at Stavros, "You were inside me!? You took away my choice, my freedom! You forced me to, made me, you- you-"
The words to express her anger would not come to her. How could she express what this meant?
It didn't matter that he seemingly did it for her "benefit". It felt so wrong, revolting, hideous. They had no idea what it felt like to have the conflict in her own mind. How much pain it brought her. No one should have that right, not even if she was a monster. She'd rather die than have someone control her, and she could not forgive him for it.
"You- you bastard!"

His next words seemed to finally register with her as her magic boiled beneath the surface, and she turned to Lis, not wanting to address the man.
"But- but I'm not using my magic, I can't. They fixed me, it's locked away! They freed me because I'm safe now!" Her eyes pleaded with her sister, begging her to understand and agree.
They had done it for Ara... they had told her so. She endured the experiments so she could live like everyone else. It just, it couldn't be true. She had always been told she was imprisoned for the safety of others and Ara had suffered it for the sake of her loved ones. It was dangerous for her to be with them, so although she hated the men who guarded her, she understood their reasoning.
But this, this would change it all and Ara wasn't sure she could live with it. They had fixed her... the best thing to happen to her in more than 10 years, she had to believe it was for her, that it was good. She just had to.
"I'm safe now, I'm good. Lis, I'm not a monster anymore, I'm not!"

@Scalerender @inkdragon @Maeriel @MJK2431 @Shadras @Valen
 
Stavros' words were like knives on her flesh. Elise stood there, face bleached of all color, caught in the turmoil his revelations unleashed inside her. It was all her fault. All this time, they had Ara hid away, and she had been too scared of capture to risk brazenly pushing to confirm her sister to be gone or not. Grief and guilt that couldn't made up for were her life, dulled by alcohol and thrill-seeking. And all along... all along her sister suffered the unimaginable, until they preyed on the girl's last shreds of hope and made her their puppet. She felt sick, she was going to be sick... Elise bent over, supporting herself on her knees, heaving, trying to control herself. It couldn't be true... they couldn't have done such a thing, someone would have stopped them, someone would know, it was wrong... it was so wrong...

The pressure in her ears from a headache that threatened to blow her head up gave way enough for her to notice Ara's outraged words. Elise took a deep breath through her nostrils and tried to get a hold of herself. Her magic, which she had struggled to upkeep in Illian's disturbing presence, had dispersed, like sand hitting a gust of wind. The woman could feel it all again, the throbbing ring burned around her throat, the ache on her chest from the merciless hit from Stavros' gauntlet-covered hand, the pain in her body from her poor riding skill and sleepless nights. She used the pain to snap out of her wallowing. Her sister turned to her, she needed her, Elise had to be the adult. Elise always had had to be the adult, even as a kid...

Ara's despair was the singular, most painful thing she's experienced since her loss. She could see her sister falling apart, her magic causing the hairs on Elise's body to rise on end, even as Illian's anger made her teeth hurt. All of it was background noise... Elise couldn't find the words. She brought her sister close and stroked her hair like their mother used to do, then she spoke only for her. "Ara... remember what mother said when we got hurt? 'It is done and over. And now we heal. The night comes and after it a new day and each day we get better.' We are going away, Ara. We'll find a way to undo this thing, whatever it is. You are not a monster, you were never a monster, they are the monsters in that inhuman tower. You were a kid... a kid with too much power and no one to teach her. Your magic isn't something to fear, Ladybug. You are strong, stronger than me. You can control it, you can do it, I believe in you. Now breathe, breathe deep and slow, feel it relax, like a muscle, send it away. It's around us and you draw it in when you need, and let it go when you don't."

Elise knew she would never be as good as her mother at soothing Ara, but she tried, she placed a finger under her chin, the girl had grown to nearly her size, really, but she coiled herself and hunched in a way she seemed much shorter. Drawing Ara's striking green eyes to her honeyed, damp ones, Elise affirmed with conviction. "You are NOT a monster. You were NEVER a monster. You never even hurt anyone, Ara, even unable to control it... you never hurt us, even that night. None of us were harmed."

@everyone
 
As he begins the walk up the hill that would eventually crest and lead him back to the old mill where he had made his temporary abode, Sindarin finds himself lost deep within the swirl of his mind. He had not been prepared for today. That finally, after all these years searching inwardly, he had remembered something of the past that was lost to him. The scarred elf could remember his early days -- the days amongst his kin. A war-loving, savage tribe, they had thrown their lot in with the nation of Oberian. As he thinks about this, his torn lip curls upwards in an expression of distaste. Sindarin had never really fit in well with his war-loving, mercenary kin. He was a gentle soul, more at home with nature than he ever was with his own flesh and blood. A parting of the ways was perhaps inevitable, but when it did eventually come, it was as painful as Sindarin expected it to be.

A flash of light. Memory surfaces from deep inside....

***
Night falls, and a chill sweeps over the land. Here, in the shadow of the mountains, the chill is more pronounced, colder than how it would have been out on the plains. Above them, craggy mountaintops loom over the dusty mountain trail. Below them, over the edge of the trail, a deep ravine plummets downwards, falling to the carpet of green below them.

A forest lies far below.

The two had travelled for weeks into months. What they search for, they do not know. Perhaps it is, deep down inside of their hearts, they yearn for somewhere to call home, or at least, a key to a better life than that which they understand. Tonight though, as the sun falls, the two sit within a rugged tent. Raised as shelter from the worst of the cold and the biting wind that had caught many an unprepared traveller unaware in this dangerous, inhospitable land, they sit within, lost deep within their own thoughts.

Sindarin glances across at Lillith, sitting near him. He speaks no words, yet no words are needed. They have travelled together for long enough to be comfortable in each other's presence to the extent that unnecessary words are not needed. They have fought for each other, bled for each other, survived where most would have fallen.... It is the sort of understanding that knows instinctively what the other thinks.

A strange thought crosses Sindarin's mind, a flight of fancy perhaps. Standing, he walks over to where Lillith sits. He holds out his hand to her, and as she takes it, he pulls her up.

Taking her other hand, he smiles, and Sindarin glides across the floor with her, a dance he has learned. It is a gesture of friendship and of trust. Sindarin would die for her, and believed that she would for him. But for once, for one night, he wants to remember that there was once a life removed from their daily struggle. For once, he wants to be reminded that there is still something left in this world worth holding onto.

The bond with another, his closest friend in the world.

He moves with her, and they dance with the grace and skill of two who have practiced together for years, yet this is their first time dancing. The smile widens as they move with fluidity, twirling around and from side to side. Finally, Sindarin spins her, leaning over with her in his arms.

Looking down at her, Sindarin laughs softly, a light, melodic sound as he raises again. Letting the pent-up emotion out, it feels good, like a weight has lifted from his heart. Holding her hand at arms length, Sindarin smiles gently as he bows his head to his dance partner. As he does so, he is struck by the fact that he has not laughed for many, many years.

Later that night, as the two sit by the flap of their tent, ostensibly to look out for any dangers, but in actual fact to gaze upwards at the stars glittering in the night sky, Sindarin looks over towards her. Reaching over, he takes her hand, squeezing it softly, drawing comfort from her presence before letting it go. He looks up to the sky, and he wonders idly if anyone was up there, silently watching over the world from afar.....


***
His breath exhales outwards in a sharp, painful gasp. Bittersweet tendrils lash themselves around his heart -- to see these visions dangled in front of him like temptation itself, only to be snatched cruelly away when he reaches outwards with grasping hands......inevitably wanting more. But that is not what the fates intend. They want him to dangle from their strings helplessly like a puppet being dangled from the strings of a deranged puppeteer. He flails, he writhes, but ultimately he cannot free himself from the strings that bind him to a past that he cannot truly see.

Sindarin does not see or feel the presence approaching him from behind, so caught up is he in the strange events that are occurring. By the time he does, it is too late. The second is upon him.

Do not make a sound, if you cling to your safety.


By no means was Sindarin either foolish or stupid. Far from it, the analytical elf was not prone to rash action or movement. When faced with adversity, Sindarin always looks to analyse the situation at hand, approach it from every angle in order to weigh up success or failure. At this juncture, there was more than one thought that he considered in regards to what was happening.

One. If the stranger wanted me dead, I would already be dead. Two. If the stranger wanted to harm me otherwise, then he simply would have attacked. Three. If I wanted to initiate hostilities I have two options -- firstly the dagger concealed at my waist. Secondly, my magic. For the first, there is no way I could draw it, turn on him and stab him before he finished me. For the second, my magic is too unpredictable. I could likely conjure something that would aid me here, but there is an equal chance that I could bring something down that would prove to be a hindrance. Four. The stranger is not here for me. He approached me from the rear. He could have taken me in a more enclosed space than out here in the open, risking a chance that someone else could thwart his actions. This leads me to conclude that he is watching the mill itself, and not me. But why?

Intrigued, Sindarin ultimately decides not to resist. There was a mystery here that he wanted to unravel. And, given everything else that had happened to him today, and the encroachment of memories that had long been locked inside of him, he begins to wonder if fate was playing a more subtle hand than he had first thought. Perhaps this stranger would ultimately lead him to his lost memories. This was not, in any way, a coincidence, no?

Holding his hands up to indicate that he meant no harm and did not intend to resist, Sindarin turns around slowly to face a man with shock black hair, the colour of a raven. His face is scarred, with one eye green and the other a milky colour, underneath the scars that gouge his flesh. He too has seen battle and hardship.

The man is a Nord, or at least has the bloodline of a Nord in him, that Sindarin could tell. Bowing his head, unable to discern his feelings of discovering this, Sindarin's message is loud and clear without the need of words.

I acquiesce. Your move stranger.

What Vidar didn't know, couldn't know, was the tumultuous emotion that was within Sindarin's heart. It was his sparing of a Nord, hated by his people, that had led to his exile.
 
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Valerie watched as the events unfolded before her eyes, the girl pleased to see that Elise was reunited with her sister. However, something was afoot, the emotions of the group creating a certain turbulence within the magic bubbling around them as the mages all interacted. Ara was how the elven maiden pictured, small and frightened although for her age she carried an innocence and lacked the sort of worldly gaze one would expect for a girl who had lived in Braedon….it was clear from this that she must have been kept away from it for some time, that Valerie was sure to be true. The story about her being kept in that ‘Mage Tower’ could not have been false if she observed the way the girl clung to her older sister as she would a mother when she was barely much younger than Valerie herself.

It would appear my debt has been payed…I don’t think Ara would have lasted too long without her sister’s guidance and care. She looks as lost as a butterfly among ravens….What to do now though? Who to trust…Her thoughts were interrupted by Illian’s outburst, the elf frowning heavily while her horse pawed and sidestepped beneath her at the animosity being exchanged. The elf tried to calm the beast, patting the side of it’s neck while whispering sweet elven words to it. Calm down now, be still.

The younger girl was losing control, Val’s face watching everyone cautiously as Stavros began to explain what was going on. His actions were unjust, the female siding with the young woman as she ranted about his actions which had forced her here. Valerie still remained quiet though, watching the situation unfold despite her best desires to join in on the wild statements being hurled like arrows between the group. Observe but do not be quick to say too much, these people are teetering on the brink of conflict and it will do no good to add more fuel to the fire by saying your piece.

She sighed heavily, eyes constantly darting between the different people as she tried to gauge reactions before they occurred, knowing that she would step in to dissolve an argument if one were to rise. They were all out in the open, vulnerable and on the run. Fighting would only draw unnecessary attention. Could it have been my words to Illian that started all of this to begin with?...She pondered, a heaviness of guilt coming to rest on her shoulders.

It was in this pristine focus on the group that she felt a coldness prickling on her skin, her ears perking up like a wild doe’s would at the sound of a potential threat. She felt magic throbbing, somewhat familiar to her yet altogether foreign at the same time. She had been around the other mages in the group, even Isaac,long enough to recognize their distinct magical ‘scent’. This…this was something different though….someone else was nearby, she was sure of it.

“Right….Stavros, that was wrong of you. However, Elise you are now reunited with your sister, Ara, and Isaac is no longer heading to this dreaded ‘Mage Tower’ everyone keeps speaking of. Illian…” She stopped there, the magic changing again and causing her to furrow her brows. “…it isn’t safe anymore. Someone is here.” was all she said next, dismounting gracefully and withdrawing her dagger. Her ears were flicking, searching for the sounds that would alert her of the location of the strange magic. Her pupils narrowed, the elf briskly but stealthily walking towards the hill crest, following the pulling feeling in her gut. They were all so consumed in what was going on that they probably didn’t realize someone was watching us. She couldn’t pick up on anything, the eeriness of the only sound being the wind in the swaying grass sending a small shiver up her spine.

Then, she heard it. The sound of someone collapsing as if falling after tripping on something....or being knocked down by someone. I've found you.

The female sprinted the rest of the way with long strides, skidding to a halt near the edge of the road where it bordered with small trees, long grass and flowering bushes. She looked down, the mere sight of the men causing her alarm, although it was the bright golden hues of the white haired man that sent her magic pouring through and out the dam it had previously been contained by. The flow was unobstructed, the energy that had been sitting calmly like the surface of a lake suddenly turning hot and unpredictable like a wildfire.

“You…you're from the tribe near Yrmant
!” She said with shock, the blood draining from her face as memories of that last night with Atylis came back to her from the dark place she hid them. She saw the bright golden hues this man shared with the other warriors of his tribe who had been working with the Oberian soldiers, cutting down her people and chasing after her and her mentor. These flashbacks made her face distort, the previous calm that had been there since the moment she had met the group being replaced by an odd mixture of fear, anger and hatred.

The vegetation beneath her feet on the right of the elf seemed to gain a life of it’s own, the crawling weeds and bright blossoms sprouting from the soil writhing at her command. They grew of their own accord, small twigs becoming thick, fibrous vines that throbbed like they were the veins of the earth. The stones on her left sputtered and jumped, crackling and shaking as if there was a thundering herd of animals running over them. The stones clumped to become fists of rock, these fists rising to orbit around her left hand as the elf’s eyes flashed like emeralds reflecting the light of the fire burning within her. The magical energy she was exuding would be palpable, the air electric as she spoke

Choose your next words wisely. Are you a spy? Sent by the Oberian commander to find me? Are you here to kill me, or return me to my region to join my people in the mines! S-speak and speak quickly!” She was terrified, the fear making her voice quake at the end despite her best efforts and also making her magic rise and fall unchecked. This version of herself was a strange opposite to the composed, fully in control Valerie she had shown the members of the group whom she had forgotten were still there.

@everyone
 
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Sindarin feels it first before he sees it. It is the proverbial calm before the raging storm. It comes, closer, closer, closer, and as it does, Sindarin feels.....nay knows that his life is about to change. The aura that approaches, it is powerful....it is angry.

He nods to Vidar, speaking finally, his voice calm, "Another comes," he says simply.

Litttle did Sindarin realise himself though as the girl comes over the crest of the hill to face them that a shard of his past was about to come with her. The first thing he notes are the emerald eyes, glinting with the flames that reside within her heart and the anger that threatens to spill out from inside of her. More striking still was the blonde hair that fell to her waist......

Standing in front of him is a woman dressed entirely in white.....

It was almost as if someone had stabbed him with a knife. The pain was as acute as it was fierce as he looked into her eyes, thinking for a moment he was staring at the past returned to life. Around his ankles, as if summoned to life from the energy spilling out from this elf, an energy that threatened to consume him within its burning anger, the grasses twisted and writhed, wrapping themselves around him. Spinning around her, the stones clump into rocks, swirling and poised, almost ready to strike......

It was not her, not the ghost that haunted his memories. Yet the resemblance was unmistakeable. Were they from the same people, the same tribe? Could this elf possess the key he so desperately sought? She speaks, accusing him of being a spy, of being here to kill her, or take her to the mines. Her words bring with them a great pain as they compel him to speak in return.....

Oberian. My people. No, not mine. Not any more.

This time, Sindarin could not read the situation. His mind was blank, refusing to function against the terrible pain and the memories that came flooding back to him.

Agony. It flooded through every single part of his being. His body, shredded and torn....it refused to function. Eyes swollen shut tried to see....... All there was was the blood that spilled out of his body onto the floor. His back felt like it was on fire. Something strikes him in the head and the little vision he has is obscured by flashing swirling lights. He can feel something hot, something sticky trickling down the side of his face.

He hears a voice but it sounds so far, far away. "Leave him here, in the ditch. If he survives his wounds, he will die out here in any case. It is a fitting fate for one such as him. He is not, and never was, one of us."

They are not gentle as they throw him into the ditch. His back strikes the ground hard, and he screams out in pain. Yet, they do not listen. He is nothing to them now.

Sindarin looks straight at her. Golden eyes meet emerald as he regards the newcomer. Another sudden flash of pain inside of him from the resemblance, yet he forces himself to maintain the gaze. He knows of who she speaks. When finally he does respond, he is surprised anew that he is able to keep his voice steady.

"No," he responds simply. His expression is one of dignity, because when there is nothing else, dignity is the one thing left to cling to. "I am Sindarin Kel'iallan."

I am Sindarin of No-People.

"I am outcast, and have been since my childhood. I defied my people's war-loving way and they cast me out." He then turns his gaze to Vidar, smiling bitterly, "Cast out for saving a Nord. A Nord who then repaid my mercy by killing my kin." Looking back to the elf, he adds, "I have as much hate for them and the Oberians as you apparently do. We are both very far from home."

It was all he could do to maintain his composure from the lancing agony that the newcomer's appearance and words brought him.....
 
@Valen

She was doing the opposite of what she had been trained to do since she was a young girl. Rather than compartmentalizing her rage and confusion so that it did not blur her focus and decisions, she let it feed her and fuel her energy. It grew within her, making her veins hot and her heart beat like a tanned-skin drum within her chest. Any mages would be able to pick up on her emotional turmoil, her aura magnificently magnified compared to her usual quiet, observing self.

The man’s response, a simple “No” was not enough, she growled under her breath, fists tightening and her grip on the dagger growing more taut so that the white of her knuckles shone like snowflakes. She was ready to release her wrath had it not been by his following statement.

The words ‘outcast’ caught her attention, making her hesitate long enough that she did not let go completely. She saw only his golden hues and characteristic features that pointed him out as being part of the enemy group, but she looked closer and saw more. The scars that stretched his features like stitches on a quilt, the limp way his hair obscured his expression and the complete lack of dishonesty in his words made her pause further.

Valerie ran over his words in her mind once more, her confusion growing greater than her initial anger had been. An….outcast? Not a spy? He…saved a Nord?

We are both very far from home.


The words sent a cold chill through her, the tendrils that had wrapped themselves around the male tightening to a point that he would feel on the brink of being crushed before loosening. There was a vague recognition in his eyes as he looked at her, the look an oddity to the elven girl as she felt no familiarity to the stranger. She gulped quietly, her left fist releasing and sending the rocks hurtling back towards the ground like discarded apple cores.

The tendrils remained however, Valeries cautionary nature and distrust of a man holding the face of an enemy keeping them there. Her approach however, the elven girl making her way down the hill toward him, was caused entirely by the small hope that had sprung within her no matter how much she knew it might come to be regrettable.

Perhaps not an enemy, but an ally….Valerie shook her head though, chastising herself because of the thought. I am too quick. My feelings of being a foreigner in a strange human world with enemies hunting me down is making me too hopeful, too soft. I should not believe his words, yet I so badly want to.

She reached him, her hands coming to rest on her hips. She could control her magic without the need of gestures, just focusing with her mind alone. “If you are not a foe, why are you sneaking around, why are you alone…why not return to a different elven region? My own….my people would have taken you in. The Valorians will….would have accepted you. Why should I even trust you.”

The pain at needing to switch into past tense when referring to her own people caused clear pain to emulate across her features, the girl’s eyes turning to the ground before shooting up to look at Sindarin, her walls once again back in place as she gave the fellow elf a hard, questioning gaze.

Her hand flicked to the identifying marking that twisted just above her right elbow, the skin there throbbing from the magic still buzzing inside of her. Her fingers rubbed at the area concealed by the long sleeves of her typically-elven attire.
 
Stavros had been used to allot more accusations and grievances then he was receiving. He could hardly blame the girl for feeling violated,she had been regardless of his intentions. Attempting to convince her that it was for the greater good would be fruitless, at least now. He sighed, offering the two sister the space they deserved to cope with the horrendous revelations Stavros had made to them, he wished them to be different...he truly did. He listened to their words, watching Elise as she spoke from the heart in order to comfort her sister....He had seen monsters today, and it had not been them.

Illian had been locked in internal turmoil as the women spoke and Stavros had finally shared the truth of what he saw, there were still questions but Illian had troubles formulating them. The air was positively crackling with Magic, the proximity of so many mages and their subtle manipulations of magic turned ripples into waves. it gave him a headache, it made him nauseous. His temper had already been taxed by the events of the day and the increased manipulation of ethereal energies were putting more weight on the young man's shoulders, more then he was used to bare. One hand reached to his hand and grabbed on to a handful of his long hair, eyes closed and teeth grinding, he was trying to control himself..trying to.

Stavros noticed his squire experiencing something unusual and frowned concerned, Valerie's admonishment of his actions made him glance sideways at the Elven Maiden, somehow he had hoped at least she would understand given the elves tendencies to look far into the future. When she suddenly called out danger and rushed off recklessly Stavros stood his ground albeit placing a hand upon the pommel of his broadsword. Ara and Elise were his self appointed charges, and he did not plan on giving them up, or give them a chance to escape for that matter.

Illian's looked up as the Elven woman called his name and then rushed off, bloodshot eyes following her for a moment until they settled upon Stavros once more and and locked on him. With an easy command he urged his steed to ride up to Stavros and halted next to him, horse facing the opposite direction of Stavros's steed so Illian could face his mentor. he spoke lowly, but his temperament and mood were not hidden. Isaac, Elise and Ara could easily see the youth was fuming, it was slowly becoming clear that Illian had a volatile and rapidly shifting temper, fueled by something more then rational thought.

"Lawmaker knows what you're up to Stavros...you lied to me... All this time you told me I'd be special, I'd be a great Mage Hunter and I'd change the future. And this?...This is why I left my mother?! to protect apostates and rogue mages? You act like you did some heroic thing but you could have done it differently, you could have done something without betraying your..OUR...order... You're not telling us everything are you? No...your forgetting to mention how blood came on your clothing...you killed someone in there and now that hangs over my head as well doesn't it?!"

Stavros frowned angrily at Illian, the young man speaking as if possessed by some angry spirit. For a moment he didn't recognize the young man he had come to consider family, perhaps even like a son. The words sounded sharper and harsher coming from Illian and Stavros started feeling the result of all the stress that was weighing down on him. he replied, angrier and more patronizing then he'd normally wish."Mind your tongue Illian, you hardly grasp yourself let alone the world we live in. I acted as I felt I had to, Impulsive perhaps yes but I saw no other way to get these people to safety, THAT is our priority Illian..Keeping people safe, Mage or otherwise... This is not the place or time to express your grievances, pull yourself together!....
 
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