Fate - First Reply A Deadly Dance and A Lonely Soul

A 1x1 Roleplay where the first writer to respond can join
Len saw nothing, felt only numbness.

The magic of his people, what they referred to as the "Arts" were unique amongst magical spells and techniques used by many far and wide across Arethil. How exactly it was that they worked was unclear; either lost to time or never known at all, but the Aberrant believed them to be tied closely to one's spirit, their core essence that held their body together.

The Arts were powerful, and drastic in the effects they had. However, they took an enormous toll on the user, and lesser Aberrants who attempted to use Arts without proper training very often resulted in unfortunate injuries or fatalities. Len was certainly no novice to their use, but he hadn't trained for battle in many years, and now he slumped onto his knees, chest heaving as his body struggled to catch up, his vision nothing but white flashes against the dirt as it's edges lay jagged and unclear. He could feel the pulsing rhythm of his own heart in his chest every breath burned his lungs.

But he'd won; victory always came at the cost of pain, and this victory was no different. But... God, did it always hurt so badly? He felt every muscle in his body tremble and shake with pain. For the first time since his resurrection, He had come truly close to death, and it only reinforced the need for his training to continue. As he was he could not defend Kassa... He could not achieve his goal and find his home.

No sooner had he thought of Kassa's name did he hear her primal scream of rage, piercing through the fog and snapping him from his stupor. Using the sword to steady himself, He turned to face her right as she slapped him across the face, sending him to the ground and fully into unconsciousness. All it had taken to finish him off was a single slap, And now Len lay in slumber before her, hardly any of his armor remaining and his breathing heavy. Inspection would find no serious wounds, exhaustion had simply won over at last, and the mysterious armored man should come to know over the last few days now laid before her looking more human and vulnerable than he ever had.

But on his face he wore a smile.

Because Kassa was safe.


Kassa Lia
 
For one wrenching second, Kassa thought she had killed him. It was only one closer inspection that she realized, with guilty relief, that she had merely put him out cold. As she examined his body with experimental touches and prods, she concluded that it was exhaustion, and not fatal injuries, that held him in such a stupor as now. While it didn’t make her feel much better, it seemed Len was mostly bruised, and not slain. She leaned back, wiping a hand across a sweaty brow, looking around her at the carnage. They couldn’t stay here.

She loathed to leave Len alone for any amount of time, but she walked around the area, cautiously on the lookout for any more assailants. There were none. Nor were there any carriages or carts that might be willing to believe they were innocent victims of bandits. The attackers had chosen their time and location well. She found only a few packs, belonging to the assassins, containing their traveling supplies, which she wearily took with her. When she returned to Len, the bodies had already begun to emit an unpleasant smell. She’d have to take care of them herself.

Most of Len’s armor was dismantled, and he was lighter than she thought as she managed to drag him away from the general vicinity of the dead near a crooked tree. She left the packs there was well, leaving to then sit in the midst of the scene, legs folded under her as she closed her eyes, clearing her mind. It was not meditation, where one simply let images come as they would if at all, but an intense opening, a welcome for the darkness with which she’d struck the pact. In less than a whisper, she chanted their names. As their profane syllables left her lips she felt a new strength, a new power, rise up within.

Three recitals and it was done. The air was cold, and thrummed. She breathed in and exhaled.

Flames blue as the summer sky and hot as the bowels of a mighty geyser blossomed around each of the four bodies. The flame was ravenous and greedy, devouring first clothes, the flesh, then even bones. As everything turned to ash, even the bloodstains strewn over the wet grass, a slight mist washed away the soot, until all that was left of the massacre was a wounded, trodden earth, and a few curious pieces of armor.

“Thank you,” Kassa murmured.

In the darkness, she knew, something smiled.

Returning once more to Len, she made sure he was as comfortable as possible, with blankets – including those of the assassin’s provisions – piled up around, over him, and beneath his head, keeping him warm and snug. Only then did she finally lie down, letting her tired body relax, hoping dimly there would be no more attacks.

It was all too soon when the sun rose the next day, and Kassa woke up late to a noontime glow.
 
It was the most peaceful sleep that Len had experienced since his rebirth, and although devoid of dreams, something within his mind changed that night. Len had died once before, his lungs ceasing to breathe and his heart's beat slowing to a stop. After the bloody skirmish that he'd fought alongside Kassa that previous night, he experienced another death; this one was not physical, but symbolical. No longer was he alone, an armored figure against the hot sun wandering in blind search of his past. Now, he had something that he never could have anticipated, something that changed his outlook considerably: He had somebody he could rely on.

Kassa Lia, as she was known, had stumbled upon him by chance in the desert trading city of Maraan, dying in the heat. Where all else had walked past him, she had felt compelled to help him to his feet, to feed him and offer him ears to speak to. They'd set off just a day earlier in search of answers for him, but already she was so much more than a travelling companion. She was a friend, and she was the only one that he had.

Kassa was all that Len had...
That was why he refused to lose her last night. That was why he'd nearly given his own life for hers. To lose Kassa would be losing the only person he cared about in this strange new world. Len wasn't sure he could handle that kind of loneliness again. Not when he'd only just escaped it. When the rising sun began to beat at his exposed neck, poking out over the blankets that she'd laid atop him, he felt his eyes slowly open as his vision struggled to return through the throbbing headache that radiated throughout his skull like the beat of a giant drum.

It was so bright, the sun directly over his head as he tossed the blankets from his body, groaning and pulling himself to sit up. His entire body ached, but he'd expected that. What brought more of a groan to his lips was the state of his clothing; his armor had been all but destroyed, what little remained wholly intact covered him from the knees down, but otherwise, he wore only the wrap around his waist.

"Unfortunate..." He muttered. The loss of his armor was stinging, but after his performance last night it was clearly necessary for him to improve without the use of such protection; he'd grown to rely too heavily on it, and it had nearly cost him everything.

And then there was Kassa. Turning his head, he found her laying just a few feet beside her. He'd been so close to watching her life be taken away that to see her safe and unharmed was almost overwhelming. He breathed out a sigh of relief he could have sworn he'd held in since the attack last night had started.

Daylight was underway, and their time was short. Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to disturb her. Instead, he pulls himself to his feet, retrieving the blankets that he'd given him and gently slid them up over her smaller form, a smile resting upon his lips as he observed just how at peace she appeared now... He couldn't help himself, one of his hands raised to run slowly, carefully through her hair. He pulled back slowly, muttering under his breath with a hint of amusement; "No funny business, now."

As she rested, Len peeled the remaining armor from his legs, leaving him quite exposed save for his intimates and the wraps on his feet. His people had no qualms about nudity in any form, so he felt quite natural in this state. Still, he knew it would need to be rectified soon enough. For now, he surveyed the field where they'd had that battle the previous night, looking over whatever was left. It seemed Kassa had cleaned it up a bit, but that didn't explain where they'd come from...

In the distance, behind the haze in the air, he saw what looked like a covered wagon pulled off to the side of the road. He supposed it was possible their assailants had ditched their vehicle to sneak up on them. Still, he shouldn't depart without the now waking woman behind him being present.

Kassa Lia
 
Magic was both a thing of wickedness and benevolence. Whatever it was used for, it demanded a price, and for most that price was energy and vitality. Most wielders – sorcerers and psions, magicians and paladins – exercised caution when using great amounts of magic. Their reserves, though often great, were limited, and draining one too much all at once was exhausting and sometimes fatal. Had she been a normal caster of the arcane, Kassa would have needed much more than just sleep.

It was fortunate that she was not so mundane in that sense. She needed no more than rest, and considering how much energy she had used, less of that than one would expect. Len was not awake long before she stirred, roused by movement and soft sounds. She rolled over on her back, upsetting the blankets pulled over her. Eyes opening, she tilted her head to see Len standing not far away, looking at something.

For a moment Kassa thought perhaps he’d spotted more assassins, but she knew that look, and it wasn’t there. If he had spotted enemies, he would probably already be acting like a gallant fool. Oh yes, she had noticed he was like that, though she couldn’t imagine why. Was he chivalrous with everyone?

She also noticed he was currently clad in very little, leaving most of his body there to admire. Bruised though it was, It was very fit, nicely sculpted, and to her chagrin she realized she was staring at him with a little more focus than was decent. She averted her gaze and sat up, rolling her shoulders as she took a quick assessment of her own body, ensuring she was properly restored. She cleared her throat, letting him know she was alert.

“What are you looking at?” she finally said. She stood up, carefully, and moved to his side, peering into the distance. A tiny little spell was needed, and despite the haze, she saw the vague outline of the little wagon too. She felt a little embarrassed. She had obviously missed it during her tired surveillance from before. Failure in that kind perception could get her killed in any other situation.

“Do you think there are horses?” she asked. That would speed up their journey considerably. She glanced at him, trying to keep on proper places. From her substandard height, she noticed his height, also a nice feature. And why the hell was she thinking about that?

“Umm, sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Are you feeling all right?” He was standing, so he must not have suffered anything too great, but you couldn’t be sure with proud men. She’d encountered the like before, where an arm could be chopped off and he would claim full health before heading to an infirmary to bleed to death later. She swept her auburn hair back over her shoulders and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, darling, are you going to just stand there, or go look?”
 
It was not the presence of the wagon that disturbed Len, causing his eyes to narrow and his pupils to turn to slits. It was the wagon itself, or rather, the design painted on it. It was a depiction of green hills, tall and layered, with a single golden path cutting through their centers as if it would lead to some hidden riches in the distance. It was a symbol that the porcelain-skinned foreigner had seen before. For it was this wagon that had been there when he'd been resurrected. It was this wagon, or one similar to it, that he'd taken that armor and blade from in the first place.

Len's fists tightened, his fingernails digging into his palms. In the heat of battle, had they just slew the ones responsible for his revival? Had they erased any chance of learning why they'd done it? His muscles trembled in rage at the idea that he'd deprived himself of his own answers in such a way. Could it be? What else could they have done? They'd been attacked by a ferocious opponent who would have left them as a pair of corpses had they not struck back!

Before Kassa had even spoken a word, he felt her gaze burning his skin. It elicited an odd reaction in his mind. Nudity was, as he had already explained, not something his kind put too much weight on. Why was it then, that as he felt her stare on his backside, he felt a satisfied smile come to his lips? Why did he enjoy the thought of her drinking his form in as much as he did? Nevertheless, he did her the kindness of waiting until she spoke before turning to face her, his head angling to look down at the shorter woman with a bright smile. Any troublesome thoughts left him now. "I don't know, I can only see one side clearly from here, it's possible. Either way, we should look through it for provisions, no?"

Her apology would be interrupted as Len reaches out and takes her hands in his, teeth flashing into a grin as his thumbs rest on the back of her hands. "Don't. I was careless. I deserved to be reprimanded for my brazen attitude, even if it was to ensure your safety. I just... I didn't want to be alone again, Kassa. Not so soon." He was almost ashamed to admit that his reason had been so selfish, but surely she already suspected she was the catalyst for his behavior? The thick desert air around them seemed to singe his skin, urging him to move away from her, to continue with his hunt and search the wagon...

The air could wait. The ground beneath his feet could wait until he was damned well ready to leave her side again for any moment of time. "You're so powerful... I'd no idea. Then again, I did promise not to pry. You did marvelous, Kassa. Truly." As if in slow motion, his hands would release hers, fingertips dragging across her palms as he looked towards the Wagon. "That symbol... I feel as though these people may have been here explicitly for me. If that's true, they may have been involved in bringing me here. Perhaps they hold answers in their vehicle. Enough of my stalling, let's go."

Walking close beside her, he would lead them both to the wagon off in the distance. Much to Len's chagrin, he saw little as he opened the hatch on the back to look inside. There were tarps, spare weapons, a chest of clothes and a paltry sum of coin.... Nothing of any real interest, save for the healthy but thirsty-looking horses that were hitched beside the wagon. Those would do well. "See anything of note, Kassa?"

Kassa Lia
 
Though she hid it well behind a noncommittal stare, Kassa felt rather bemused. Len was so open, so free with himself where others would hold close to themselves, shutting others away without a second thought. In fact, Kassa was almost startled by such candid behavior, and that made her distrustful. People weren’t like this, not normally. So while she didn’t withdraw her hands from his, she withdrew just a little bit inside. After all, if he knew more, he wouldn’t be so eager to remain with her so willingly.

“You’re so powerful… I had no idea.”

She laughed at that, sounding a little harsher than she meant. “Honey, that trick took it all out of me. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for you,” she confessed, frowning. If she was to achieve anything at all, she had to obtain more power. She had to get better. If she was to repay her debt to society, her level as of now would not do at all. She remained serene as she followed Len to the wagon, but inside her mind was in turmoil. Already she was thinking, planning, concocting future moves that would push her closer towards her goal… and not all of it was donating to the poor or volunteering at homeless camps.

Her eyes slid up the symbol painted on the wagon. The green hills and golden road were very exquisitely designed, with an elegant modesty. She could not remember seeing anything like it before, and she branded it in her memory. With it came the feeling of mistrust, suspicion, and hostility. They were after Len, and her. If she saw the sigil again on chest or back, face or foot, she planned to kill the bearer immediately.

She slid inside the wagon as Len checked the hatch and rummaged through the scant belongings inside. Bedrolls, sacks of rations – cheese, hard tack, and flatbread – jugs of water, some bowls, and not much else. She took one of the jugs and filled a larger bowl, taking it out to the horses. They were a fine pair of mares, a sturdy red and a dappled blue, and both drank gratefully. It wasn’t much, but better than nothing. To the assassins’ credit, Kassa noticed they were well cared for otherwise. She patted them on their muscular necks as they nickered their appreciation. Unlike people, horses were honest beasts.

“See anything of note, Kassa?”

“Just the horses. Hope you can ride,” she said as she moved to Len’s side, eyeing the few possessions he found. She took the coin pouch, testing its weight. Not much, but she pocketed it anyway. Those who said money can’t buy happiness, she felt, didn’t have much of it. “We can take their food, I suppose, but it looks like they packed for fast travel.”

She looked at Len. “Your people, hm? Seven Trees folk? I’d like to know who brought you back and who wants to kill you again, and why.”
 
The few provisions Len found for his part were of a similar caliber. Food, water and money were nice, but he couldn't deny he'd been hoping to find a bit more in the way of answers. Len gripped the supplies tightly in his frustration, his fingers aching as he pulled them out for Kassa to inspect. Using an arm to wipe sweat from his brow, he gestures to the rations he'd recovered as he sits beside her. "What do you think? A few days' worth, at least? Plus what you found should keep us going for a bit." He was obviously frustrated by the lack of anything concrete in terms of evidence coming from their search, they'd nearly died from these people and had so little to show for it! It was maddening!

His eyes traveled to the steeds they aimed to procure. Indeed they were in quite stellar condition. "They look healthy. I wonder if I even remember how to ride. It's been so long..." He trailed off slowly. His eyes had drifted to the floor of the wagon, but this time they narrowed as he noticed something he hadn't before. One of the boards that rested over the front wheel well was loose, one side of it wasn't nailed down properly. It could have been a deliberate construction error, but Len knew well that assuming things were coincidence was seldom wise.

Leaning forward, he hooked his hand underneath the board and lifted, the snapping of wood ringing sharply through the mostly quiet land as he pried the board completely loose. It came off easier than it should have, which told him the board was removed semi-frequently. Underneath, a notebook bearing the same logo that was emblazoned on the side of the wagon was tied to the underside of the floor. "Hold on now... what do we have here...?"

He rose from his spot beside Kassa to lie on his stomach, so he could reach both hands under the wagon to untie the book and retrieve it. Rolling to his side and sitting back up as he pulled the hidden book out of it's hiding place, he holds it up to Kassa. "They were hiding something after all, looks like. Let's see what we've got!" He placed it in his lap, crossing his legs as he opened the notebook. Surely there would be some sort of lead-in here, no? This had to be the reward they were waiting for, right? The culmination of their efforts the previous night?

At first, his face fell. The pages were logs of stock and travel, appearing to be a ledger of some kind meant to keep track of a trading caravan. Perhaps this wagon had been a part of a much bigger ensemble at one point. He couldn't be sure. Then, he spotted it...

"The resurrection of the Grand Terios spoken of in the tome we recovered was only partially successful, it seems. We found the men and the necromancer we tasked with reviving and capturing him dead and robbed a few miles north of Maraan. We cannot allow any to know what we've done; Necromancy is not something that The Golden Road can afford to have its name attached to. We'll be splitting from the caravan to search the land surrounding Maraan for the Grand Terios. If he will not cooperate, then we must send him back to where we found him."
​
It was true then. These 'Golden Road' people had brought him back, and this wagon was a part of their operation. It didn't say why, but he did notice something that struck him as quite shocking: Somehow these people knew his honorific title, Grand Terios. They spoke of a tome. Had his people's history truly been recorded in such a way? Shaking his head in disbelief, he handed the notebook over to Kassa. "Look at that. They were here for me, waiting for us to leave town..."

Kassa Lia
 
There was no need to especially empathetic here; frustration was palpable in the air, and Kassa could hear it in Len’s voice. She understood he expected to find answers to the questions he held of himself – perhaps even a scant clue or so. Instead, they found nothing. Unsure of what to say and not exactly practiced at offering comfort, Kassa only shrugged with mumble of confirmation regarding the provisions.

Her eyes followed Len’s, landing on the crooked board. She was tempted to think of it only as a flaw in the wagon’s build, or a simple maintenance issue. But she too knew that assuming such things could hold consequences that could range from inconvenient to deadly. She watched closely as Len snapped the wood loose, to which she was rather impressed. To her it had looked secure, and she liked displays of strength. A twinge of excitement raced through her as Len retrieved the book, and unable to keep still she paced round, edging close to Len so that she too could read.

“Grand Terios?” she said inquiringly. “That’s a fancy title, darling.” She took the book, reading over the passage again before leafing through the rest of the pages, finding nothing more than more logs of items… and plenty of words condemning necromancy. In short, brief words extending into the margins, the Golden Road people labeled it as an abominable action, a flaw in the system of all magic itself, and that all practitioners should be burned or simply outright killed. Even the one who had risen Len was called a few choice words, and the contempt and ridicule was tangible in the eloquent words.

“What is the Golden Road? Why would they bring you back?” she muttered, more to herself than to Len. She handed the book back. “Leave that here and replace the board. Best let them think we don’t know anything, assuming this group were highwaymen seeking to rob us and nothing more.”

She turned to the horses, drawing her knife from her boot. She cut the straps and reins securing the beasts to the carriage and checked the bits. They had small saddles, clearly meant to experienced riders, but Kassa thought she could teach Len if he was that out of practice. She patted the neck of the red mare, crooning soft words of reassurance as it stomped the ground nervously. When it calmed, she gripped the pommel of the saddle, set her foot in the stirrup and boosted herself atop.

“We need to put a good amount of distance between here and our next stop,” she said earnestly. She glanced at Len. “There’s going to be more, you know. Are you sure you want to continue to your Trees?”
 
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Len shifted on his feet, standing up in the back of the wagon and watching Kassa closely as she flipped through the other pages of the notebook. A hand rested on his hip, clicking his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth. as she noted his title. "Yeah, well it's one I haven't gone by in a while now... " His other hand rubs softly at the back of his neck. "I wasn't much more than the most glorified kind of servant, leading armies out to battle, coming home to dress in bright clothes and dance for the King." He had never questioned it, never faltered in his loyalty, and that's what had made him perfect for such a role.

As she hands the book back to him, he lifts it towards her in a curious gesture. "Anything else of note in there?" But he was already gently tucking it back under the wheel well, pressing the board back into place with a loud snap and a grunt. "If there's one thing I have learned since my return, it's that these people are quite brazen in their desire for power and superiority. If somehow they found out about me, what I did... They might have been so blind they thought I would work for them in return for my life." He rises back to his feet, dusting off his legs with a sigh. "Obviously they should have done a bit more research."

Stepping down off of the wagon. While he hadn't found anything definitive in terms of answers yet, but even scraps of information were steps towards the truth. He couldn't afford to lose his head yet, not when they'd only just truly gotten started. One of the boxes he'd tossed from the back of the wagon had held clothes, and he popped it open, digging through its contents. "Can't go without something to cover me up a little. My appearance seems to cause me to stand out a little, it would seem" He found a pair of simple trousers and an old duster that, while a little big for him, did the job. He wasn't exactly going for style points anyways.

Reaching up to grab the horn of the saddle and pull himself up, he took the reigns, seeming to shift in place as he seemed to re-acquaint himself with the feeling of riding the animal. "The difference is that we can expect them next time, no more surprises. You're right though, we should try to get to a settlement that has lodgings before we try camping again. You know this land better than I, Kassa. Or at least, you do now."

He digs his heels into the horse lightly to start himself off, going slowly at first to allow Kassa to set their pace. "Kassa, I quite literally don't have a thing to live for." He peered over at her. "I just want to see the place that made me the happiest, even if it isn't there anymore..."

Kassa Lia
 
“No,” she said rather shortly when Len asked about the book. For a moment she felt uncomfortable. Silence could be misconstrued as dishonesty, perhaps as bad as speaking outright lies. But she wasn’t about to tell Len things that could chase him away – not yet at least – and she was far from ready to tell him things he didn’t need to know. What business was it of his anyway? She was a guide at most, mere company to his story. In the end, she figured it didn’t really matter. Hopefully.

She listened with peaked curiosity as Len fixed the board back into place. What did he do? And after her disinclination to provide details regarding the journal, did she have any right to wonder, or know? Jawing over this predicament, Kassa once again settled to say nothing, trusting the Vanguard, Grand Terios, or whatever he was to tell her when the time was right. Even so, a bit of impatience gnawed at her. She felt all the more fascinated by this strange, pale man. The mystery surrounding him grew by the day, and she liked answers, not more unfulfilled questions.

Kassa led her horse around in a circle, letting the beast get comfortable with her unfamiliar handling. They were intuitive creatures, she had learned, and their levels of calm were often rooted to the calm of their master. To Len’s credit, he didn’t manage to fall off his mount, and the dappled mare was blessed with the virtue of patience. After they had gathered and leashed what items they could to their mounts, and closed the remains of their camp, they were off.

Len insisted her wanted to go to those damned Trees, or at least where they once were, but Kassa doubted he would find anything there but depressing farmlands and uninspiring towns. Humans didn’t really care much about Mother Nature, preferring to cut everything down rather than finding a true harmony with some plants, and she had to hold back a sarcastic comment that anything could be different here.

“I guess I can understand,” she said instead, even though she didn’t. Whatever sharpens your sword.

Kassa set a brisk pace, the horses trotting across the plains. It was only a few hours or so when they eventually found a bubbling stream leading to a small settlement of farms, well-kept agriculture and tamed herds of goats, sheep, and a few cattle. It barely warranted a place on the rough map Kassa brought out to frown at, but as they rode into the meager heart of Rosethorn Farms, there was a certain peace and inactivity that soothed the soul and promised much needed quietude.

There was a very tiny inn that served tea and cheap wine, serving as a mark on a traveler’s long journey. Kassa led the way to a ramshackle structure of a stable, giving the horses over to a young girl who was eager to serve for a bit of coin.

She stared at Len. “Ummm… you and your husband…? Should really try the stew!”

“Sure,” Kassa said dryly, handing over a silver piece. “Come on, honey, let’s go try the stew.”
 
Len visibly winced at the drastic change in tone from Kassa's lips as she answered his rather simple question. It seemed odd that she would answer so bluntly when it was in regards to the answers to the mystery they both sought to tackle. What reason did she have to hide anything from him though? In the end, Len trusted her. So, he'd taken her on her word and put the book back, before loading up his horse and riding after her. Riding a horse after so long wasn't easy at first; without that heavy armor on, he didn't have to overcompensate every little movement he made, and he was much lighter.

Even so, when they had finally finished packing up what remained of their camp, and Len had salvaged what little usable scraps remained on his armor, he had some level of difficulty keeping pace with his companion as they sent their horses into a gallop back down the path they'd followed the previous day. The ride was somewhat quiet at first, and it gave Len some time to ruminate; Ever since dawn, Kassa had been acting somewhat strangely. It wasn't that she was necessarily cold. No, it was more akin to frustration she seemed to be holding beneath the surface. But towards what, he wondered?

Len wasn't being purposefully vague with the information he'd shared; in his own mind the memories of his final days were muddy, cloudy at the very best. He could only remember clearly that final act; throwing himself upon his sword at the feet of his king, the powerful emotion running through every vein as hed' done so, nothing but spite and defiance...

Surely she couldn't fault him for not giving her all that he knew? He'd respected her own privacy when she'd expressed a desire to keep her past to herself. He liked to think she would do him the same courtesy. Perhaps though, he was so happy to have a companion that he was purposefully overlooking her own flaws. She needn't have tried to make it sound like she understood his sentiment for the Trees. Her attempt only came off as ambivalent and doubting.

He was glad she was ahead of him so that she could not see the briefly wounded look upon his face...

"You chose to come with me, Kassa..."

It was all he could think to say for some time, the remainder of their trip remaining relatively silent outside of random small talk about their surroundings. As much as Len wished he could tell what was ailing Kassa's mind, a relaxing ride with the air beating at his skin for the first time since his rebirth was not unwelcome; and he found himself with an idle smile upon his face as they followed the frothy brook down to a meager settlement of laborers and farmers placed nicely in a particularly mild part of the plains.

Before they came face to face with any of the locals, Len reigned his horse into a stop. "Hold on, I'd better play this safe..." He grumbled, pulling the coat he'd taken from the wagon to cover his bare chest before fastening the clasps meant to hold it on. he would then pull the hood over his head, concealing a deal of his alabaster pale skin from prying eyes. "There. If anybody is with those people, they won't recognize me at a glance this way."

Whilst Kassa dealt with the stable hand, Len dismounted his horse and removed the bags of provisions he'd stowed on it. There was no way he was taking the chance of leaving what little haul they had been able to make outside overnight, even in a stable. His ears did perk up at being called Kassa's bethroed, a small smirk of amusement on his features as he slid his eyes over to watch her approaching with that dry monotone in her voice.

"Of course, dearest. Lead the way."

By the time they'd finally made their way into the small room that the inn had to offer, Len was dismayed to find that he'd once again be sleeping on a mat laid across the floor. He'd been looking forward to a warm bed, but this inn offered little more than tiny single rooms with an attached tub for a bath hidden only by a thin partition. Sighing, he slides his haul to the wooden floor of the room, before wasting no time in unbuckling the warm coat from his chest.

"A bit of a downgrade in accommodations, but it is better than sleeping outside." He commented towards Kassa.

"Now, shall we try that stew so highly recommended to us? Or perhaps we could talk about why you've been glowering at me all day?" It was unlike Len to be so blunt, but whatever cloud hung over their heads during the trip was becoming tiresome. "I do apologize if I made you feel bad in some way, Kassa..."

Kassa Lia
 
Not so opulent as its name might suggest, the Glimmerstar Inn was less a polished hotel than a remodeled barn. The story was a man had built the framework for a fine house upon the foundation, only to burn it down when his fiancé died from a mysterious illness. Another man came along and turned it into a stable, only to hang himself from the ceiling weeks after it was completed. That was burned down too. Several more stories like that followed, and the Glimmerstar was its sixth incarnation.

Kassa noted the ghostly bloodstains, the apparitions – visible only to her – of fire and smoke, and the very faint echoes of past screams and wails of people and horses. The curse was already fading away by the second rebuilding of the inn, and most of the stories were greatly exaggerated… but some details, it turned out, had been missing too. As she tossed her own burden to one side of the hole they’d been given, Kassa mulled over the possibilities of the profit she could gain should the inn inexplicably burn down yet again. A few rumors, a little gossip, a claim of cleansing and purification…

Purification.

“Purification!”

“I do apologize if I made you feel bad in some way, Kassa.”

“Oh, shut up, you…” Kassa choked off the rest of her bitter words. She grimaced as she searched for an excuse for her poor behavior. It was true, she’d been terribly hostile all day. Where was the control, the calm she felt so proud of maintaining?

More the point, why was he so… gallant? He was so unlike anyone she ever bothered to know before, those manipulators and brutes the world was flooded with. His manners and words and every action caught her completely off guard. As such, she found herself suddenly floundering for words and flushed as she snatched up the first thing a normal person might say.

“Sorry, Len,” she forced out. She paused, visibly struggling to return the scowl on her face to one of cool serenity. “I… hate fighting, and… all right, look.” She took a breath. “There’s a little place not far from here, south of the Cairou River. I need to visit it every time I get close to it, so if you don’t mind taking a little detour, I need to make a stop.” Or just leave. I don’t care.

Did she?

“I mean, we can meet up later if you want to go on without me,” she added, a little reluctantly. Truth be, for reasons she couldn’t quite identify, she didn’t like that idea. Len would do what he wanted, he wasn’t a child, and he’d proven he could take care of himself. In fact, it would be easier if he wasn’t there to snoop and ask questions and generally be a pest. And it looked like he was a beckoning beacon for these troublesome Golden Road brigands. She’d be better off alone, like she’d always been.

Still…

She straightened, tossing back her hair haughtily as she felt the usual calm return in force. “All of that later, though. Come on, I’m hungry.” Looks like I’m paying again. Dammit.

The stew, which took upwards of half an hour to even get started, turned out to be some sort of thick chowder, a creamy, somewhat spicy broth thickened with bits of fish, potatoes, and a variety of vegetables grown locally by the village farmers. A sprinkle of sharp white cheese had been smoked and melted on top. It was a strange combination altogether, but not unpleasant. Kassa quickly developed a taste for the stuff and was on her way through a third bowl while the innkeeper chattered about the years it took to make the stew perfect.

He did lean forward a little, peeking at Len, catching just a slight bit of flesh beneath the hood. “Boy,” he exclaimed, “you pale as death. Ya need some more sun, or is the wife over there working you too hard indoors?”

“You mean at a desk or in bed?” Kassa grinned, causing the innkeeper to blush fiercely.
 
Len hadn't been expecting the most pristine of lodgings by a long shot; This was a small settlement, and he doubted they got enough traffic to warrant more than one or two rooms without sacrificing practicality. He was more than satisfied with the meager amenities they'd been provided. After all, it was still far better than sleeping on the side of the road again. At least they wouldn't be sniffed out nearly so easily by any who sought to have them killed. In some ways, he'd rather be shacked here than some gaudy, easy-to-spot building.

Even so, he couldn't deny that there was an eerie presence in the old room. There was a pressure that seemed to press against him from all sides that he couldn't quite place. He wasn't aware of the wretched history of this place like his companion was, but even so, he seemed to warily turn his body to look across the oddly clean walls of the otherwise dusty old place, his eyes narrowing in suspicion that he couldn't quite place.

He heard Kassa begin to tell him off, and turned to face her right as she cut herself off with a slightly choked sound. Raising an eyebrow, he attempted to make some form of eye contact with the scowling woman, but she seemed to be wrestling within herself, some unseen battle he could only hope to guess as to the participants in. "Kassa, I didn't mean to--" He was cut off by an abrupt apology.

“Sorry, Len, I… hate fighting, and… all right, look. There’s a little place not far from here, south of the Cairou River. I need to visit it every time I get close to it, so if you don’t mind taking a little detour, I need to make a stop.”

She was obviously still upset, but her efforts to warm the ice in her voice were appreciated. His own face softened, not nearly so offended by the behavior as he was worried. Perhaps she thought him odd for his support and continued friendliness in spite of her bitter temper, but Len had grown up around men and women who spoke to him with sharp tongues; it took much more than a harsh tone to deter him.

"The Cairou River?" He mused with a thoughtful hum, tucking a finger underneath his chin. Of course, he didn't know what they called the landmarks now, but it sounded familiar. Hadn't there been a stream in the northwest part of the Savannah? "I suppose you know best. If it's important to you, we can go." This whole shift in attitude seemed to stem from his wanting to know more about her. If it would make things go smoother if he just didn't ask questions... well, he didn't like it, but he'd do it for now.

At the very least, she planned on staying for dinner it seemed. Len didn't truly see the point of it; they had provisions they could eat that wouldn't drain their... her funding. Kassa seemed curious about the stew though, Len wasn't about to tell her otherwise. To be fair, it was a delectable concoction. A bit thicker than he preferred, but the spice was reminiscent of the fire root soups he used to make in the Aberrant.

He was enjoying the stew so much, he didn't realize the innkeeper was growing so nosy until it was too late. Len drew back, but the damage was seemingly done. Damn it, the one thing he was worried about most had already come to pass. Kassa expertly attempted a diversion, though her words brought a tinge of color even to Len's cheeks. He cracked a small smile, bowing his head to the man "She is a wild one, Sir. I'm quite blessed..."

Kassa Lia
 
The appetizing taste and smell of the chowder served to improve Kassa’s dour mood, at least for the moment, managing a smile as the barkeeper banished his embarrassment in favor of a few raunchy jokes. Mostly at Len’s expense, of course, but one could it was merely light teasing. Kassa ate her third bowl slowly, apparently in no rush to be off even as the barkeeper began to approach obnoxious. He shut up at last when a weary-looking adventurer stumbled into the room and ordered that famous stew a farmhand girl had told him about. Left to eat in peace, Kassa turned to Len.

“We’ll go after I’m done. I’d like to get it over with as quickly as possible.” She paused, stirring the stew thoughtfully. “Rather do it at night anyway. It’s a lengthy walk, so don’t eat too much.”

The sun had begun to set when Kassa finally stacked her empty bowls and thanked the barkeeper for the hearty meal. She went up to the small room and gathered her satchel, leaving the pack of supplies behind, as she did not need them for this trip. She announced to the barkeeper that she and her husband would be going for a scenic walk, and stepped out into the warm evening light.

Kassa once again set a brisk pace, leaving the horses in the rough stable. She left the road leading father to the west, cutting her own path straight north. It was an easy walk as sundown painted vivid colors over the sky. Gold and pink, streaks of mauve and purple clouds appeared and then began to fade as the shadow of night reached over the horizon and darkened the land. All through it, Kassa said nothing, and any comments or question Len made was met with a stiff silence.

It was a good hour’s walk before a shape appeared in the darkness. At first, it seemed to be a great beast, gnarled and crooked, bound the ground by vines and ivy, covered by wild growths of grass. A closer look, however, revealed it to be a cabin, old, abandoned, and derelict. There was an odd post of twisted wood standing in what would be the front yard. Kassa halted her walk to finally stand at the post. It was coated in black stuff that looked oily in the night, and there was a thick, knotted assembly of a rope and chain wrapped around it.

Kassa turned to look at Len, assumed he had chosen to follow all this way. “Say hello to my mother, darling,” she said with a bitter smile.

She was not done speaking when the temperature dropped. It dropped the way it had dropped with the Golden Road attack, sudden and fierce and frighteningly cold. Frost formed around the post, turning the ash that coated it into a basting of white, and as the ice reached to its peak something else formed along with it, emerging from the darkness, soaking out of the wood like water from a compressed sponge.

Bones.

Old, naked bones of a person, tied to the post, with its head thrown back and jaw dropped in a terrible representation of a scream.

At the same time, something low and equally awful emitted from the cabin. The door to the house, hanging of the hinges, swayed with chilling creaks as a low wind, inhumanely close to a moan, emanated from the rooms inside.

Kassa rocked back and forth on her heels a few times. “Well,” she said with false brightness. “Time to go inside.”
 
Len had finished his stew long before Kassa slowly trudged her way through a third bowl, and when he wasn't trying to play off the rather impolite jokes being tossed around regarding his non-existent bedroom antics with Kassa, he was looking at her with no small amount of worry as she seemed to stall and overeat as much as she could get away with. She'd been the one who claimed she needed to go somewhere, so why was she hesitating? Len couldn't allow his brow to furrow, or his lips to curl into a concerned frown, lest their crass host become privy to the lie they were working under.

Nevertheless, when she could stall no longer and returned to their room to collect some belongings with thanks to the bartender, Len offered a similar bow. "Thank you for the meal, sir." He followed his "wife" out of the building, pulling his hood down once they walked clear of the small settlement.

"Don't suppose you're going to tell us where we're headed." It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact; Kassa's secrecy had been heard loud and clear, and asking only seemed to exaggerate the issue. When he thought about it well and truly, it made sense enough. Kassa barely knew him, and while he tried to be open, well... as open as he was comfortable with... he had a feeling it wasn't quite enough for her.

Maybe wherever it was she was taking him would offer some manner of insight, verbal or otherwise, into the strange enigma of a woman.

She hadn't been lying though, the walk to their destination was a long one. They had left in the evening sun and appeared to finally approach a shape entombed in nature when the sun had fallen and darkness had overtaken the sky. This place had a presence, one far worse than the room they'd been in before. This one was darker, more menacing... and what made him even more uneasy was that he couldn't even begin to place it.

When the temperature dropped, Len didn't wait for any visual changes to take place; he took several steps back. The last time the air around Kassa Lia had grown so unbelievably cold, it had ended in death. Only for their enemies, granted, but he still wasn't willing to take that risk. The sight that awaited him was so macabre, so haunting, that the visage of the bones screaming in silent horror was one that would be etched in his mind for some time.

Was this... her family? Her home? What had happened here? Who was responsible? These were all questions he found himself asking, but above all, he asked himself... Why did she come here? Why would she do this to herself? Seeing them like this...

"Time to head in." She said.

"Why? This... is self-torture. These visages... It's awful..."

Kassa Lia
 
Turning to Len, Kassa fixed a hard look on the Vanguard. A beat of silence passed, awkward and threatening… and then the look softened into one of bemusement. Had she really expected any other kind of response from a stranger? Truly, from anyone at all? The realization of how strange, how awful, the scene must be thus far struck her, and a tinkle of laughter escaped. How silly of her! Clasping her hands before her she tilted her head at the ravaged skeleton as she spoke.

“Mother’s been dead for many years, darling. Just as I’ve been doing this for many years,” she added, her voice growing thoughtful. She tossed her hair back. “Well, if you can’t handle it, just stay outside. I shan’t be long.”

With that, she strode to the cabin. Where she stepped, particles of ice formed, and as she reached the creaking cabin door it opened, inviting her within. Supposing Len followed, it stayed open, swaying closed afterward as all those who dared enter stepped into the darkness of the ramshackle abode.

The interior of the cabin was in surprisingly good shape. It was a single room, with a short flight of stairs leading up to what could only be a small attic. There was a bed set along one wall, a dining table with two chairs set along the other, and a counter with another chair built into one opposite of that. There was a roughly cut window that offered a grisly view to the skeleton outside, and the moonlight high above filtered through so that one could just barely see. See the odd cuts in the floor, the circles of chalk in odd figures, the splatter of blood on the floor.

Kassa walked to the center and sat on her knees among it all. There was another silence as she closed her eyes, breathing in the musky air. Her voice then came as a sharp interruption. “When I was a young girl, I lived with my mother here, tending the land. We had chickens and a cow. My mother was skilled in magical remedies, herbs and treatments. She did nothing but help others.

“The one day, they came and accused her of witchcraft. They dragged her outside, and now you see what they did to her.

“Don’t interfere, Len. If it talks to you, be polite.”

Kassa set her satchel down and reached into it, withdrawing a fine ceramic bowl, resting it before her. A few herbs were added to the bowl, followed by faint whispers, some clear, most unintelligible.

“Henbane for visions… rosehips for sweet dreams…”

She crushed the herbs with a stone pestle. Then she brough the mixture close and breathed upon it. Immediately, the concoction was set ablaze, the fire violently bright. A thick smoke sprouted from it and coiled about Kassa. It was thick and sweet and heady, and when the smoke drifted up to the ceiling, the voice came. It was chilling to the bone, frighteningly deep, and powerful to the core.

Aaaaaaah… it has been a long time, my girl.

Kassa bowed. ”Masterful One.”

You have brought another, I see. The smoke thickened around Len. Say who you are, boy… don’t be shy.
 
To say the whole situation made Len rather uneasy would have been quite a massive understatement; it made a bit more sense why Kassa was so reluctant to discuss her past if this is what had become of her mother, and assumedly her childhood home. Still, Len was no stranger to the horrors of death and the way that such death could twist the mind. The question that burned in his mind most was her reason for returning here. She claimed to do so quite often, but surely she didn't merely wish to review the corpse of her loved one?

Len was hyper-aware of the state she was leaving the ground in as she walked. He still knew very little about this side of her, except that it was exceptionally dangerous. He trusted Kassa, but he also recognized that there was much about her that he still did not know. Len had lost himself in his power in the past, he did not think Kassa Lia was immune to such a happening herself.

"You'll find there is little that I cannot stomach." He began, stepping forward to follow her as she moved to to enter the old house. "It is your own well-being that I am concerned with, Kassa." He cast a sideways glance her way as they entered the ominous structure, the unsettling pressure of this place pressing against every pore of his white flesh. This was more than an old ruin of a home, this was a place of darkness, and Len had never been afraid to banish the darkness.

To his surprise, the interior was quite well kept. The building was structurally sound, and most of the furnishings were in fine condition, save for an accumulation of dust. As for the home as a whole, while it was certainly livable, it was no place that Len would have wished to spend any amount of time in. The small details, like the bloodstains, chalk marks, and slashes... they told a dark tale, and Len had a feeling he may have been beginning to put some of the pieces together.

Kassa's story only served to confirm some of his theories. This had indeed been her childhood home, living with her mother and living a quite honest life. Of course, Len knew how that had ended without Kassa needing to go into grisly detail... "That's terrible... truly a fate deserved by none. That doesn't tell me why we're here though, Kassa. This place... there's a presence here..."

But Kassa was already at work, mixing together various ingredients, undiscernible to him in the darkness of the old house. There it was again, that secrecy. What was it that she wasn't telling him? What on earth was she up to? It seemed at last though, that his patience would pay off. Smoke billowed from the concoction she'd created, thick plumes surrounding Kassa as they spread up and throughout the interior of the building...

Then it spoke, its voice like a knife against bone, grating, and scraping. It made Len grit his teeth just hearing it. This was the presence he'd felt, the darkness that had been weighing on him since they'd arrived here. And Kassa was bowing to it, addressing it as a superior.

For a moment, Len allowed himself to wonder if choosing to travel with Kassa had been a tremendous mistake. Had the wool been pulled over his eyes? Was he to be sacrificed to some abomination that Kassa Lia worshipped? His fists clenched, eyes tightening as he felt the blood vessels beneath his skin constrict and then widen in preparation for battle. To fight for his life.

Say who you are, boy… don’t be shy.

"My name is of no importance to the likes of you. I only acknowledge you at the request of Kassa Lia, and no further..."

Kassa Lia
 
Yet another silence permeated the air. Around Len the black smoke billowed, thick and oddly pleasant to inhale. Kassa winced as the dark cloud seemed to prod the Vanguard’s form with its amorphous body, flowing over material and muscle seamlessly before drawing back. A sinister laughter, like the prickle of knives beneath tender flesh, broke the silence at last. It was not a pleasant sound; even so, the painful tension in Kassa’s body released just slightly as the smoke gathered before her, melting into the shadows that swelled and gathered around it.

The likes of me? Well, I supposed it matters not, the voice sighed, sounding amused. You are merely a bystander. My apologies for giving you more attention than you deserve. But I can tell you are not my promised sacrifice. Why did you bring him here, my darkling one?

Kassa bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say to that. She struggled with words too inadequate to perform their given purpose. How could she lie to the Master, and how could she possibly say the truth when it was so absurdly complex? Her speech came out clumsy, halting, pleading, stupid. “He… sort of saved my life? A… friend, maybe? Uh…”

She was about to say more, but any further words were drowned out by more laughter. This time it was raucous, the pounding of a drum and echoing cymbals behind. When it faded, it devolved to a low hiss, sharp and acutely threatening. You have no friends here, my child. Remember the words you yourself spoke and recall the contract you struck with me. Now leave, or give me what is mine and let us proceed.

Motions jerky and nervous, Kassa nodded. She fumbled for her left boot and drew from its inner folds a short knife. It was not much as a weapon, more ornamental with it painted gold handle and glass crystal pommel, but its blade was sharp, its edge keen, glittering as moonlight passed over it. Her green eyes focused on the smog now pulsing, close and waiting. The first time she communed with this force it took hours, for it was no simple, easy pact it was interested in. It was a long bid, an arrangement of rules, expectations, payments and punishments and more. But each time she came to it, here or elsewhere, the contact grew easier, and thus shorter. She knew her place, as did it.

She tilted the knife close to her empty palm and drew it excruciatingly slow across the palm. It lifted, descended again, cutting twice and thrice, and then more. Drops of blood fell into the bowl and around it, joining the old stains that Len had seen upon first entering the cabin. When Kassa was done carving the sigil into her skin she made a tight first, and a small crimson river raced to the floor, only to rise up and vanish into the wall of smoke, as if being siphoned out by some otherworldly leech.

Well then, the voice spoke again, sounding pleased. What is it you request?

“Conflagration of Crows,” Kassa responded immediately. “It’s too slow. It almost killed me.”

The voice tsked. That will never do.

The smoke blew out surrounding Kassa. It reshaped itself into something like a serpent as it coiled around her and sank into her body. She screamed as the darkness submerged itself into her skin and bones, taking what it found there and reforming it into something new, something painful, something deadly and dangerous. Better. Yet it felt like being strung twice by lightning, and slowly at that, and by the time it was done the walls reverberated with her voice. She collapsed on the ground, breathing harsh and heavy.

There, the voice said, businesslike. And a few more bits, for good behavior. Don’t think I don’t know, child. Anything else?

No, Masterful One, she struggled to say. It came out as whimper.

The smoke dissipated, simply gone like a candlelight blown out.

She sat up slowly, her body shaking. “Well, that’s it,” she said brightly, despite the tears pouring down her face.
 
Len was understandably less than thrilled about the black smog that seemed to examine him like a piece of meat. This was no mere smoke trick, whatever steered this shadowy cloud was alive and steeped in the blackest of evils. That Kassa seemed so familiar with it was both concerning and eye-opening. Perhaps there had been more to her evasion of his questions than he realized, perhaps she'd worried that he would leave her if he'd known. Would he? Even Len himself wasn't sure yet.

The dismissive words that echoed through his ears from whatever this abomination was only served to fill the pale man with further disdain. If it had not been for Kassa, he would have already drawn arms against this presence, for better or for worse. He took no stock in anything it said, instead granting it nothing more than the sneer he already wore in its presence.

Apparently realizing it would get no more amusement out of Len, the being returned its attention to Kassa Lia. Len took several steps back, withholding his protective nature. His companion had chosen this, to come here and face this evil. Len would not interfere, not unless he felt she was in mortal danger, and whatever this creature was clearly found her useful alive. The words and the scene that unfolded before him were difficult to follow. If Len had to hazard a guess, he would assume these two shared some sort of symbiotic relationship, albeit one that favored Kassa's 'friend'.

'Friend'. He'd liked to consider himself that to Kassa, but as she was pressed on the topic, she didn't seem so sure herself. When the voice snapped at her in retaliation, he felt his fists tightening, and his teeth grating at the tone he took. The entire scene played out before him, Len's skin growing hot as he watched Kassa shed her own blood, in some sort of offer.

The smog was thick, and he couldn't decipher all of the words spoken, but he heard what Kassa said, about the Crows. About her near-death experience. Was this the source of her magic? Was she drawing her power from a place so dark, so unknown? Before he could ponder the ramifications of this, it was over. The smoke was gone, the chill absent from the air. Kassa Lia stood shivering and teary-eyed before him, and Len found himself rushing over to her, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close to his body.

"Yes... That's it. Come now, we needn't stay here any longer..."

His words were few, but what they implied was monumental; He was not leaving her side. This revelation changed little. She would not be as alone as the smoke claimed, for Len knew of her secret, and he remained.

Kassa Lia
 
Whatever reaction Kassa expected, it was not this. Not arms wrapping around her in comfort, not the voice that spoke reassurance to her. As Len drew her close in a full embrace she felt an odd strength come to her, something she had never felt before at the end of all her meetings with the entity of this haunted cabin. Slowly her shivering and pain subsided, and her tears dried quickly even as she reach to her wipe them away. Only then did twist to face Len, looking at his pale face, searching for what could not be understood.

So many others would have run by now. Run, to get others, to enact upon her the same fate that had befallen her mother. Or they would have simply plunged whatever blade they had in her themselves, alone, or beat her to death. It was what she deserved, after all. Yet Len remained, gallant as always, and she could not understand why. Why he was still here, why he did not look at her with disgust, why he did not condemn her with all his heart.

“She told me to hide,” she finally said in a weak whisper. “They dragged Mother from the house, and beat her to the ground before tying her to the stake. I watched from the window as they lit a fire beneath her. They spit on her and laughed and shouted as she died. I swore that day I would find a way to… avenge her. And myself. So… I… I called him. The Masterful One. He promised me power, if I would serve him too.” Her voice trembled and broke. She showed Len the palm of her hand, where she had cut the sigil. It was already healed, without a single mark left behind.

She suddenly shoved Len away, new tears breaking from her eyes. “Why?” she demanded. “Anyone else would have killed me by now. If you knew what I’ve done, what I’ll do, you wouldn’t dare even touch me. You should do what those monsters did to my mother. But… you’re still here. Why?”

It took great effort, but she managed to stand. She swayed dangerously, off balance as she made her way across the cabin floor, out the door. The skeleton tied to the post was gone, leaving only the burnt post of wood as testament to the gruesome history of the cabin.

Outside, the moon, bloated and full, was high in the air. More time had passed than it seemed. It was bright with stars and moonglow, and neither Kassa nor Len needed to struggled to see each other or the path back to the sorry, so-called inn. Before she began the long walk back, Kassa turned once again to Len, and again she was composed, calm, serene. Inside, though, she was broiling with conflicting emotions, and thoughts she dared not reveal or confront herself.

“I’m giving you a chance, Len,” she spoke quietly. “You should leave me. If you don’t leave now… there’s no telling what might happen.”
 
Len Dy't B-taa had seen and experienced many things throughout his life. The era that he came from was no more forgiving than this one, and Kassa was not the first he'd seen taken by dark forces at their weakest. Even so, this was the first time he saw such a vulnerability, such a deep pain in somebody that he dearly cared for. He'd been trained to be unfeeling in his youth, the sodden eyes of the sad and weary were things he could never afford to let bother him.

Kassa's eyes pierced his heart.

Admittedly, some part of him did think it wise to put distance between he and Kassa when whatever that being she'd brought him to witness had left. However, it wasn't difficult to glean some idea of what had happened here based on what he'd seen thus far. He didn't think Kassa wanted this. No, Len believed she was merely a victim here, and that she would need somebody by her side that wasn't whatever that had been. He held her tight, a hand resting on the back of her head as she tried desperately to withhold her sobs.

The story she weaved for him only served to confirm the suspicions he'd had. Kassa had been devastated by grief and anger. She'd lost everything and called that being, the 'Masterful One' in a state of weakness. Like clockwork, that otherworldly thing seized the opportunity, taking advantage of her, binding her to a fate that didn't befit her. Predatory, they always were.

Kassa raised her hand, the one she'd sliced only moments earlier. Len winced. The wound was gone already. So the cut had been ritualistic. It was powerful magic, not something that could be easily undone. Suddenly, the hand turned, pressing into his chest and shoving him away as she broke free of him, tears now freely leaving her eyes. He staggered back, looking up at her as she stood.

She asked him why, but Len didn't have time to answer. Kassa had already turned to almost drunkenly stumble out the door, as if she couldn't fully control her own body. It was a sad sight. Too sad. Kassa may have thought he should leave, but this would not be the last thing he would remember of her, a lost and confused girl rejecting any help whatsoever.

When she would turn, she would find that Len stood behind her, having followed her without a second thought. "I will not leave, Kassa." He replied. "You've been with me, helping me since I woke up. Do you honestly think this secret changes anything? You reached out when you needed help, and that thing was the only one to answer you. I do not blame you for taking the offer." He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "But it's wrong. I am your friend. I will not leave you behind. Come whatever may, I will face your challenges with you."

Kassa Lia
 
Foolish or brave, obligated or loyal, Kassa could not decide which one to label Len. Perhaps it was all of them. Again tears threatened her eyes, and she blinked them away, refusing to give up to her emotions that had not overcome her for many years. She felt furious, angry that she appeared so weak, and what was more, angry that she could not refuse the aid Len offered so freely. Aid that she surely didn’t need! She was capable of taking care of herself, of facing her challenges alone. She had done that for years, too. And yet, and yet…

“I am your friend,” he said. But was she his?

The Masterful One, as she called it, as it wished to be called, was surely no friend. It was her master, a teacher, a giver of boons for which great sacrifices were made. She obeyed what it demanded of her, for its gifts did not come without the price of certain acts of servitude. Len was in more danger than he knew, for she had committed grave sins that would curdle the gut of the most god-given paladin. She knew, however much she wished it not, that she would commit such sins again, over and over until her vengeful soul was sated. After which, she was sure, she would be sent to the hell she had reserved for herself. She quailed at the price she had paid, and quailed at the thought that Len would be caught up in her nightmare.

So she made a promise, silent but no less strong than any spoken oath. She would see to it that Len would be safe. She would never lay a hand on him, no matter what the Masterful One wanted. The demonic entity seemed disinterested in him now, but that might change. If it did… she would make the exception. He seemed to have faith that she would not turn on him. And she wouldn’t. For promises were not made to broken. Not to her.

“Len,” she whispered his name like a forbidden secret, “I can’t thank you for your… loyalty. It’s not something I want. It’s not something you should want. You’re making a stupid mistake,” she snapped suddenly. Her pace quickened, driving them closer to the inn as it slowly appeared in the distance.

“I don’t understand,” she confessed, less to him than to herself. Just a few days ago, everything made sense. Everything was in order, and now, everything was astray and in chaos. Why had she stopped to help the man, thinking it would lead to nothing but a little bit of coin for her pouch? She took in a deep breath, the cold night air stinging her lungs.

“I can do this, though… I promise I’ll be there for you when your own challenges come for you. Because this is just the beginning for you.”

An hour later she lay curled on the mat in the tiny space they’d been given at the Glimmerstar Inn. She didn’t’ know why she bothered. She wasn’t getting any sleep.
 
The trek back to the room they'd been granted back at the inn was not a pleasant one. For all of Kassa's incessant warnings and countless assurances that his choice to continue traveling with her was the wrong one, B-taa was beginning to believe that she had been much more shaken up by the visit to her Master than Len was.

For his part, Len didn't really care about whatever that unholy effigy had been. His concern was with the woman that he considered a friend, the one who seemed hell-bent on pushing away the only person who wished to be close to her. It made sense now, why she'd been so secretive, her erratic behavior. She'd brought him to bear witness to her secret fully intending to return alone, and the fact that she wasn't seemed to confuse her greatly.

So he didn't speak. He didn't say a word, knowing that anything he offered, any explanation, would only increase her distress. Besides, there was nothing to explain that he hadn't already stated to her. He saw himself as her friend, and that was all the reason he needed to remain by her side. And yet, as she turned to look at him before they re-entered their room for the night, he saw something different in her eyes.

There was a change in the way she was looking at him, hidden deep within but still shining through. Len felt himself falter under the pressure of her gaze, a hand moving through his hair as his mind quizzed itself. What did she see him as? Was he a friend to her? Just a convenient companion? A burden, even? He wasn't sure why, but he yearned to know so badly...

"I promise I’ll be there for you when your own challenges come for you. Because this is just the beginning for you.”

He'd smiled in reply.

"Then at least I will have a future at all, Kassa. What else is there for somebody like me?"


Kassa wasn't the only one who wouldn't find any rest that night. As she lay balled up tightly on the mat, her companion sat cross-legged atop his, head down and eyes closed, but every bit as awake and alert as she. He wasn't sure why rest eluded him. Perhaps the events that had transpired this night plagued his thoughts. Perhaps he was nervous about reaching the end of his own journey when he finally found the site of the Trees once again.

He was fooling himself. The truth was that he wanted to watch over the woman. It was as though closing his eyes would give that... thing a chance to take her away. Unacceptable. Len was a warrior, and he could hold firm until she was far from these cursed lands. Until then, he would watch.

"We're... both being fools. In our own ways." The pale skinned male muttered, knowing full well she was awake. "But I'd much rather face tomorrow with you than alone..."

Kassa Lia
 
What kept him awake” Kassa wondered. Was it fear, uncertainty, or merely the passing thoughts of the everyday man? But Len, she knew, was far from everyday, and after his defiance against the Masterful One, she could not imagine him awake from fear. In the otherwise silent room, she could hear his breathing, calm and steady but faster than the deathly slow rhythm of a peaceful sleep. She could always tell when someone was awake or dreaming. Not for the first time, she wondered whether that ability was one she gained or one she always had.

Then Len spoke, and apparently, he had that same talent too. He dared to call them both fools, and she bit back the retort that he’d best speak for himself. And it was not out of courtesy. Though she could scarcely admit it to herself, she was scared.

Scared that, even now, if she said or did the wrong thing, she would lose him. That Len, fed up with all he had learned, would leave. As he should. As she didn’t want, not really.

Slowly she sat up, opening her eyes. She looked over at the Vanguard, sitting placidly on his sleeping mat, seemingly meditating but fully alert. Somehow he looked so strong, so assured there, outlined in the shadows of the room and the dim light filtering through a crack in the ceiling. He had the muscles and toned body of a real warrior, but he also had the presence of one too. It was something a great many trained soldier lacked, and she found it somehow comforting.

He wasn’t that bad looking, she decided suddenly. Despite the odd snowy skin, he was otherwise rather comely. She wondered if his features were common among his people or if he was, even for them, attractive. She tried, fruitlessly, to recall the faces of those who attacked them.

“I’d much rather face tomorrow with you than alone,” he said. Stupid, stubborn Len. Were those traits common too?

She felt she had to say something, something that didn’t give away anything. Even though his eyes were shut she shrugged. “I guess I could use a bodyguard,” she finally said, her tone light. “And… maybe you could use a… a witch.” She wasn’t used to admitting what she was to anyone. She eyed Len worriedly, wondering if what she was had even hit him fully. “Do you think they’ll hunt us again, or wait for us at your Trees?”

She crossed her legs underneath her, staring down at the floor before looking at her presumed bodyguard again. On impulse, she reached over and poked his shoulder. “My mother could sing,” she said, keeping the sadness from her voice. She smiled then. “You can dance, darling, but can you sing? You have a nice voice, but I’ve known orators who can’t carry a tune.”
 
Though Len sat awake, his eyes remained closed even as he heard the minute shifting of Kassa's body in the darkness. His thoughts were both calm and a swirling maelstrom all at once, with so much to process about what he'd witnessed, about the warnings she continually attempted to give him. What is it that Kassa was fearful of? Was it fear of angering her master? Was she merely frightened at the idea of being alone again? Perhaps it was the lack of isolation that was putting her so off guard...

He could speculate as much as he liked. Nothing had changed, and his mission was the same. If anything, he was glad to learn more about the enigma that fate had brought him into contact with. She'd been so secretive, and increasingly hostile towards him over the course of the last day and a half. He understood now, though. He understood more than she likely thought possible.

Suddenly, he felt the heat of her gaze upon him, scanning over his form through the blanket of night that surrounded him. He felt a rush of heat rise to his cheeks; a powerful and physically superior specimen amongst his kind he was, but he had also been sworn to celibacy once his training was complete. The sensation of eyes upon his flesh, regardless of their intent, was quite foreign to him, especially considering he'd almost always worn his armor.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to look back at her. Kassa Lia was a woman rife with inner turmoil, but she was also full of beauty. It could not be understated the meaning that her saving his life when he was at his lowest held for Len. The young woman was his savior, and though darkness did hold a tight grasp of her soul, hers was not a heart of evil. It was fate that had failed her, and nothing more.

When at last she spoke, her voice soft and airy against his ears, he smiled "You've saved my life twice over, Kassa... I would not have made it this far without you by my side. To lose you now would be devastating." The idea of life-debt was quite common amongst his people, the philosophy that any act that saves you from death must be repaid in kind. "If we are faced with danger once more, we face it together. We each stand much stronger as one than we would separate."

It was her next question that caused him to finally slide his eyes open. "Sing...?" He murmured... Of course, dancing was pivotal to his style of swordplay, but the last time he'd sung had been to Yura, at the end of his Illya... "I... I don't know." Had she finally found an area of embarrassment? Her touch against his shoulder made him turn towards her. He was silent for a moment, before he began to lightly sing, his deep voice carrying surprisingly lightly through the air as he closed his eyes, recalling a few lines.

Is the one I see an angel from the heavens?

Is the one I see a demon from beneath the rocks?

Neither may take me, for I deny destiny its due.

For I am a man of many walks.

And my will to push forward is true.

A small part of a longer song, but it was all that he could recall...


His body had begun to sway slightly as he sang, his hand reaching out to rest atop the one that had poked him as he concluded. His fingertips slid down her knuckles as he spoke. "You needn't worry about what I think of you, Kassa. We all have demons, what makes us people is how we manage them."

Kassa Lia
 
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