Aerywyn and Acria - The Morning After

Red sky in morning, sheperds warning. Aerywyn thought on those words as he squinted through watery eyes at the rising sun, the abrasive feel of smoke choking his throat and burning his eyes still fresh in his mind. It was these times that he cursed the fact he was still alive; still able to feel the kind of pain that the undead were blissfully denied due to the deteriorated state of their nerves and brains. He ignored the pain in his left hand as he supported the strange woman on his right side. After the enormous power she had displayed before they had fled, her body was finally left to it's own devices (showing how frail she truly was). Though he himself was already recovering, he had seen her almost choke to death on her own blood.

There was a stream ahead, with a lone white rabbit having a drink. He and the rabbit locked eyes for a moment.

Damn myself...

Acria's body had given out, tired and exhausted, and the flames had melted her ice armor. Her mind too was exhausted from trying to keep herself alive, having to freeze areas of her own blood to stop the bleeding. She had been so focused that it was only now that she realized she was no longer walking and was being carried by the confusing fellow she had decided not to kill. She must have seemed as if unconscious due to her internal focus, and he decided to carry her, despite his own wounds...

A slight smile crept to her lips.

Chivalry..

Her eyes began to open as he faltered, the sudden intake of light blurring her vision momentarily. She saw the water, then looked to him to discern why he had slowed. She traced his focus back to the stream and now saw the small rabbit. Comforted now that they weren't in danger, Acria decided she must finish her healing, and administer care to the man's wounds as well in thanks. She made a slight sound, so as to not suddenly startle him.

"You can set me down now.."

He set Acria to her feet, however Aerywyn's eyes scarely left the rabbits gaze, though a smirk was on his face now. The white rabbit stayed put, though it shivered violently with some strenous effort as if it did not want to be there. With his hand now raised, he made a quick signal with his fingers...

... and next moment the rabbit was a few feet away to the right, a silver plumed arrow rising from the now dead, white rabbit.

"My lord".

From the treeline, armed with a fearsome looking longbow, an old soldier stood. He looked far worse for wear especially when considering the raw wounds at his neck, arms and chest. Riarith still, however, had the strength to pull back an Althean bow. That alone bespoke the power Aerywyn bestowed upon his favourite captain. Still that meant that the rest of the Alar'viel would be a long time recovering from such a disastrous battle. All of them slain...

Riarith's eyes narrowed as he saw the woman next to his lord, for the power emenating from her was great... and all too familiar. He had never condoned the pact Aerywyn made, and he had always distrusted the corrupting influence of the power that kept them all alive. Aerywyn saw the look and mentally dismissed the soldier, giving him the orders to search for the rest of the Alar'viel. With a heavy sigh, Aerywyn watched as the old soldier left, before turning to Acria again with questioning eyes. She intrigued him to no end... and he didn't know where to start with his questioning.

Her feet felt the ground, and she nearly crumpled, but caught herself. Her body was still exhausted, but at least she could empty her lungs. She broke the frozen blood into microscopic portions, then exhaled completely, seemingly breathing out crystal dust. Acria saw the rabbit's life instantly taken by the arrow through the icy mist, and looked towards the source. It was one of her newly acquired 'friend's' undead companions.

Acria corrected her posture, standing up with some effort, needing sleep dearly. She looked Aerywyn over, trying to see what she could do to aid his injuries. As she did, her eyes locked with his. He had a quizzical look in his eyes, which made her consider her appearance. Her hood was still down, and surely her white hair would be in a state of disarray... but that could not be the cause for his questioning look.

"What..?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it as he gathered his thoughts. Observing the state of the cloaked woman he realised that both of them would need some rest before travelling further. Already his mind was running through the list of herbs, broths and concoctions to speed the bodies natural healing process and aid sleep, a habit garnered from a lifetime of living in the wilds.

With a softening of his expression, Aerywyn took her arm in his and a sympathetic smile despite the hard glean to his eyes.

"We'll set up camp just ahead. I'll make a fire...".

He thought of the rising smoke behind them.

"... a fire, and hopefully my captain had enough intelligence not to use poison on that arrow. Maybe then you can tell me where we are going next."

And what you are doing here, Aerywyn thought.

((OOC: ... *sigh*... I mean up ahead at the brook chaos.

His actions startled her. It had been many years before she had experienced an act, a touch so casual.

Who is he...

He spoke... but of what? A fire? Poison? Arrow? Next? His words eventually sunk into her scattered mind. She paused for a moment in thought. Finally, his words caught her full attention.

We..? So he intends to follow me if he is leaving the decision to me...

"Honestly... I am not sure. I was simply following the road until I found another city, or any information on the whereabouts of-... of anyone worthy enough... to die by my hands."

She had to choose her words carefully, making sure not to let out too much about her. She had to keep him close as well as distant, lest that force she now feared may gain an upper hand on her.

"... Why do you do this..?"

Aerywyn kept silent as he walked Acria over to the brook, sitting her down gently whilst he gathered his thoughts. It seemed like he was ignoring her, for he sat cross-legged with an elbow on his thigh and stared dreamily ahead, his eyes straying to every movement in the water and in the undergrowth.

'Killing for pleasure then? For power?', then he frowned to himself. 'Or for both? No wonder my master wants her', though he brushed away that last sardonic mental comment.

The corner of his lip rose as he remembered her question, and he tilted his head a bit back and to the side. "It would be very difficult indeed for me to answer that", he said plainly. "Maybe I just long for an interesting companion, or perhaps I am following you in the hope you may hold the answers to some questions I have been unable to answer".

He leant back on his hands and stared at the sky, his eyes back to their wandering. "Maybe... but I am strapped for lively conversation", he said dryly.

'Be careful of this woman Aerys... your souls freedom means nothing if you are dead', spoke Veanne's voice in his mind.

'Neither of us will have our freedom if we do not seek it', he retorted.

Her eyes passed over him, the sunlight cascading over his skin. He seemed as if a wretched man, barely contained, and yet in his past he lived a life far more meaningful than any of the pitiful souls that found themselves in her path before.

She was confused by his meaning, but she had decided to side with the best possible meaning.

"As am I..."

So he sees me as only an object of entertainment or knowledge...

She knelt down to relieve her legs of it's long stress, and held a hand out toward him. As her hand slipped out from under the long robe's sleeves, ice began to form on her hand, and built rapidly. It crudely snaked it's way to his left hand, and wrapped itself around his wound. It began to chill the area, numbing it, and freezing any infectious bacteria.

I still intend to repay him for his help... despite where he may fall in my plans. Master Jericho...

The thought instantly reminded her of her mentor, and she was once again whisked away to her memories of her literal savior. He had taught her ethics in dealing with others, but a necromancer was still a necromancer...

She silenced the thoughts, sending them to the dark recesses of her mind once more. Acria then dissipated the ice around his left hand, leaving only enough to continue safeguarding him from harm. The dissipated ice left a cool chill in the air, a welcome change from the forest fire that still remained, though dieing, a good distance behind them.

"... And these questions may be...?"

Aerywyn marvelled at the effect she had on his hand, though he kept his fingers clenched in case they froze off with frostbite. At least that will keep the swelling down...

"My dear, I highly doubt you could actually answer them just like that... I am searching for my youth, for in that past lies the secret of my freedom and", he points to his chest, "of my dark masters mission".

He cocked his head, noticing the blank stare on her face. Smiling sadly, he continued.

"All of this territory once belonged to the Kingdom of Altheas, but a war of such a level of destruction and hatred that I hope never to see again utterly wiped it from the face of history. I went mad that day... and in his death throes he used me".

Aerywyn unconsciously fidgeted with the locket at his neck, his eyes now half-glazed in rememberance.

"I lay weak amidst the ruins of that city... and he told me that if I bind myself to his will... I could save her...".

He trailed off for a moment, before snapping himself out of the trance. The memory of that day always tore a little bit more at his sanity, and that in some way helped Vaurkann take a little more control each time. Even now he could feel the blood dripping from his hands, hardening and caking to his skin.

"This land has seen so much death... no wonder you are here".

Acria's stare remained blank. She reminded herself that she needed to remain seperate from this man, else she form in the least a minute bond to him, which could utterly destroy everything she hoped to achieve. Her eyes did darken briefly at the mention of his alleged master...

I must be sure to silence the power he has over this one... I cannot risk another inconvenience...

At his last words, she smiled briefly, before swiftly turning a soft coughing sound, hands jutting from her robes aimed towards the sound.

What is he...

It was one of his ghoulish followers. Acria lowered her hands, the sleeves rolling quickly over them once more. The servant's hands removed themsevles from the blades at his side, and turned to Aerywyn.

"My Lord, there's a man in robes of grey and white approaching... Your orders?"

Acria's eyes flashed once more, filling her being with intent to kill from the ghoul's words. Inside her cloak, her hands brushed against the staff.

Another... but I must keep myself in check around him.

Acria turned her head to look back at Aerywyn, waiting for his response.

With a grin, Aerywyn considered this change in circumstances. What was someone so frail doing out here? He reminded himself that with the elderly you must be considerate of both their weak condition and the wealth of knowledge in their mind.

And those robes? Was he a holy man or a mage?

"Let him come to us... then you may act. However I think it would be good to keep him alive for a while...", he mused, a timbre of hunger in his voice.

Meanwhile, the blade at his side shivered unnoticably, sensing the violence to come.

The servant of Aerywyn returned to the woods, and Acria looked back at Aerywyn.

Patience... Patience was never a quality of mine.

She felt the ice growing at her palms, around her back and neck, a product of her subconscious and the complete need to fufill her goals. She focused on the glacial growths, refining them from the crude form her subconscious took, into sharply designed tools of death.

She looked into his eyes, her own glowing with increased ferocity, another maelstrom of power passing over them.

I must ressurect Jericho... But... about what he said...

"So... you intend to follow me until you've found your freedom...?"

Freedom may or may not be what you find...

As the old man walked into the clearing, he espied the the man and woman sitting together by the water. The man was tall and handsome despite the his haggard look, and beared himself with pride and confidence as he laughed cheerfully at something his companion had said.

"You've got it right there in a nutshell my dear...", Aerywyn replied.

The old man took in now the cloaked woman, and though he saw nothing outwardly strange about the man, the woman froze his spine with a fear he couldn't describe. Suddenly the man was standing in front of him, an open smile across his face.

"Hail there stranger".

... and with that, he was on his back. The elderly man could feel a bone snap as he was thrown down, and yet there was no weight holding him. To his sides he could see two spirits, a pair of what looked to be ghostly washerwomen, in high spirits, so to speak. It felt so cold where they touched... and further away he could spy a band of cloaked rangers, standing on guard in an even circle.

"Who are you?", Aerywyn spoke simply, his face bare inches from the old mans.

"This...!"

Although the man was in a desperate state of mind, he could not finish his first utterance without a painful groan.

"This is... madness! Release me, I have done no harm!"

His eyes showed only the innate fear of death, the fear of nonexistance in this world. Such anxiety destroyed the coherency of his thoughts, but as the initial moments of surprise and vexation passed, so too did the mass chaos in his mind, long enough to absorb his situation in a heartbeat.

A man who walks amongst the dead... surely they will not free me... is all lost?

"If you do not answer him, I'm afraid you'll die. If you do... I won't let him kill you."

The man looked about, and in between several of the dead soldiers, he could see a woman cloaked in black, the only thing he could see being two glowing orbs of icy blue and two silver locks of hair spilling out of the darkness onto her chest.

This woman... this man, these dead soldiers... could she possibly have power over them?

Seeing as how he wasn't dead yet, he spoke again, trying desperately to calm his nerves.

"I... I am known as Lakalzi... I'm an apprentice of Sazil the Hol-"

"Sazil!?"

The robed woman nearly gasped out of air at the mention of his name.

They must know of him... please let them follow life more than death...

"Where... Is... He?"

"He is... I am meeting with him and others..."

"WHERE"

With her voice the servants of Aerywyn tightened their ghostly grips, and he felt a blade against his throat. Any thought against betrayal vanished in the added hopelessness to the situation.

"In the mountains!"

The man began to cry in fear.

"Behind a mountain pass, in the Righteous Glade..."

In his sobbings, he felt a wave of acceptance... acceptance of death... that his being was to be at the mercy of this group. The water in his eyes blurred out the light, the faces he now faced, the sun of the sky.

Then came the pain... as if the icy grip of death itself wrought it's will upon him. Along his body he felt the coldest sensations along that of emptiness, screwing his eyes shut in pain. He felt the tears on his face freeze, sealing his eyelids shut. He gasped in surprise, but even then felt as his breath froze and a glacial breeze penetated itself into his mouth and down his esophagus.

And so it was that the mage was dead.

Acria knelt between two of Aerywyn's soldiers, her eyes instantly bled away the color and replaced it with only blackness. She reached down at the man's leg, holding her hands over it, as she glanced back at Aerywyn.

"I did tell him I wouldn't let you kill him. But now..."

She turned back to her work, and darkness itself covered her hands.

"I do know where I will be headed..."


(OOC: Sorry this took WAY longer than a traditional post, pm me if you think it needs to be split up, or if anything else is wrong. Also, I tried to make it fairly simple to determine between the man's speech and Acria's.)

(OOC: Dont worry about it, I can read it all and it's easy enough to discern whos talking. Lets finish this, aye?)

Aerywyn casually wet his lips, watching impassively as life left the old mage. For him there was no pleasure or enjoyment to be taken from this, only a poor, weak creature without even enough life to even put up a fight. He smiled yet at the business ahead of them, and as the shades waited to feast on the essence left in the body, the rest dissapeared... dissapated almost. He didn't know exactly how they managed to do it, but the Alar'viel were sworn to him and that was all that mattered.

They were not bound to him.

After a moment of pondering that, Aerywyn threw a glance at Acria... and her work.

"I see your not lacking for energy... once you're done with him, we move out".

As a military commander for so long he was used to the idea of organising camps and setting rest hours, but at least not having to sleep was an advantage immortality gave you.

Her hands, covered with the darkness, delved straight into the mages leg. A second later, her hands, along with the man's femur, pulled out of his body. She held the bone with one hand as the sleeve fell once more, concealing both the hand and the bone.

She didn't pay a single thought to what had just transpired, her emotions and thoughts revolving around Sazil.

...He will pay...

She looked behind herself at the man and his soldiers. Her brief moments of stasis earlier had left herself somewhat rested.

She stood and walked up to Aerywyn, looking up at him.

"I wish to see Sazil as soon as possible..."

Acria cast her gaze back towards the peaks of the mountain.

I will find you... and destroy you.

A smile crept into her features, concealed by the cloak's magical shadow.

And I will make you suffer endlessly...

Aerywyn looked down as Acria's features once again become cloaked to his perception, wondering what was going on in that fractured mind of hers.

Surely it can't be as depraved as mine, can it?

He thought back to how the mans femur had been missing when her business was done.

On second thought...

He moved onto the mountains in the distance, admiring the curves of the foothills and the woven texture of the conifers, contrasting with the stone spires and pillars piercing the clouds. Through those treacherous mountain paths there was a green place, beautiful unlike anything you would find in the mines and dirty towns along the way. He could even smell the iron smelters, the taint of industry.

Hoisting his bow onto his back, Aerywyn curteously offered his arm to the mad elementalist beside him.

"Its a long journey, Acria. Are you prepared to walk or...", he changed his tone maliciously, "... shall we borrow a few horses to ease our feet?".

Acria looked up at him, considering his offer, although puzzled as to what he meant. She however did know the difference between travelling on foot and riding on horseback... one brought the traveller to the destination much faster.

Haste it is... Sazil's demise cannot come too soon...

Acria smiled, although knowing that her face was shadowed, and reached for Aerywyn's arm. She looked directly into his eyes as she grasped it.

"Let's see what you have in mind... Aerywyn."


(OOC: Sorry it took so long. This is the end, I presume?)

Whilst making a mental note that his new companion seemed to lack the finer qualities of wit and humour, Aerywyn smiled gleefully back at Acria.

((Done ^^))