Private Tales Friends of Old

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

"It has been over a hundred years," the voice of one councilor rose up, not exactly in protest.

There in the great halls of the Sharyrdian Temple, The Council had gathered. From the chapel the choir's perpetual song echoed through space and time, reaching both their minds and their ears, and yet here in this place amongst one another they convened with spoken words. Their halls were illuminated by the great shards of the Shorai crystal that lay imbedded in pillars and inset in the walls, and even the ceilings and archways. Chambers and corridors alike were decorated with this luminous crystal, and though it was often paired with torchlight, in this meeting place they dwelt only in the Shorai's light. Yet, even in the depth of this place, the absence of the sun was felt. Corners seemed darker, walls seemed taller, and everything felt further apart. But these were also the symptoms of many things.

"We cannot forsake those who have only ever been our friends and allies," retorted the voice of High Councilor Táralóm.

The new Council Chamber was a great, circular room. Ascending pews rose up around, separated by four great archways leading out. It was in these places where the Councilors sat, and at the center of the room was a great round table, where the 24 of The Conclave took their place. At the center of the table a great shard of the Shorai rose up to a point, and high above from the ceiling another great shard reached down to another point, opposing each other from a short distance.

"The Knights of Anatheum are sure unprepared to come to us with our lands as they are. Would they even know?"

"Surely they must."

There was a quiet that dwelt with them for a moment, until finally, a decision was reached.

"Very well, we shall send escort for our ancient allies, and give them safe passage to Sharyrdaes, and we will show them what we have learned."

---

These woods were far from what anyone would expect to experience but only a short distance further on. Falwood was vast, and more than this there was life in these trees. Since Aeraesar had been plagued, the well traveled paths had grown over, thickets had risen in their place, and it was as though the forest itself tried to deter travelers from finding their way to their lands. If such was the case, then Erën thought it a blessing. One would be folly to travel through those cursed lands unprepared, and even those who were... it was a twisted land now, where its trees seemed not to deter you from danger, but rather bring it upon you themselves.

He drew in a deep breath, and pulled his thoughts away from those things and pulled too his eyes away from the fire he sat near. He and his most trusted friends, Aidathin and Te'leis had been sent to escort the Knights who were now expected to be near very soon. While at one time such a visit from the Knights of Anatheum would be of no cause for alarm, needing no invite or escort, being welcomed without ire even after such a breadth of time, their coming at this time was not exactly the case. They were welcome of course, but their faith in the Knight's preparation for where they sought now to travel through was... low. It did not speak to their opinion of the Knights, rather, it spoke to their opinion of the curse in which they dealt with. Once they knew it and saw it, they would be better equipped, but until then... this was necessary.

"Te'leis, do you see anything?"

---

Bebin Theros ​

 

[Bebin Theros]

"Young Bebin," Syr Ranvir spoke out as their feet crunched softed against a leaf litter and soil most foreign to both men. "You will see, that this forest is not like that green grove our order calls home,"

Our order. Bebin huffed, his hair short cropped, only just turning to shaggy mess that curled about his ears and was slid back by emerald headband. He moved more noisily through the forest, wide frame snagging against branch and twig with loud scrapes and snaps.

"Looks just the same to me, Syr," the squire grumbled, as he pulled free his arm from the thorns that hung onto it so greedily.

"Yet, if I were to take you out to the Seret, where a forest walker would see but the same hill repeated twice, and thrice, until their mind went mad, would you not see each hill for what it was?"

Bebin narrowed his eyes, and held tight the sword that swaggered about his hip, his breath short.

"You've the gift of the side winding serpent, Bebin, but so too the gift of the rains and the monsoon," Syr Ranvir came to a halt, and cast his gaze out to the forest that stretched before them, an endless maze of green and brown and hazed by golden light. "The Loch, as it is named by the Pursuits of our Order," the older knight turned his gaze toward the younger man. "The mind, as it is known to most, and the Shoraes to those who will host us," Syr Ranvir turned his eyes ahead, and the knight from Amol Kalit shut his eyes and bowed deeply to not but the trees and the leaves and the stray leaves that fluttered to the earth. "We give you thanks, oh generous guides of Sharydian,"

Bebin stared wide eyed at the empty space, breath caught in his throat, for he had no idea to what Syr Ranvir bowed his head.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

"They are here," came her soft reply, and with a leap she disappeared high into the trees.

Meanwhile Erën and Aidathin, without so much as a glance at her sudden movement, remained there by the fire.

"We give you thanks, oh generous guides of Sharydian,"
​

For a moment, the only reply which came was silence and the gentle rustling of breezy leaves. Rays of light peeked through the canopy above, and all that surrounded the Knights remained in serene quiet. It was as though the whole forest had taken a great, calming breath.

And then she appeared, descending from the great heights of Falwood's enclosing canopy. She landed with a soft thud, dropping to a bent knee only briefly before raising up to her full stature before them. She was tall, with long nearly white hair, and fair - though not as far as most of her kind. Her beauty was sharp and clear to be seen, and though her figure was hugged tightly by the leathers and armour she wore, her dress was modest and fitting for a warrior such as herself. But perhaps her most defining feature was her eyes, or rather the luminosity in them. It burned as a small spark in the darks of her pupils, and ringed her iris like an eclipsed sun - and all the while they studied the three that stood several meters before her.

And yet, she did not speak, or at least, not with her voice. But with her mind she did indeed reach out, not so much with discerning words, but rather feelings and inclinations. Feelings of friendship and comradery, trust, and an inclination to be followed, to a meeting place. A fire, where there were others.

And all of this was her own - and the Sharyrdian Order's - first initial greeting to the Knights of Anatheum, as it had been for many ages past now. It was a test, though it was a friendly one at that, as a simple way to gauge those who would be present with them, and a gauge as to how vocal they would need to be.

---

Bebin Theros ​

 

[Selene]

Selene was quiet as the squire Bebin and Syr Ranvir spoke to each other, not because she did not care for their company but because she was in awe of the Falwood. This was a wood whose magic had not yet been stolen by man, whose trees seemed to stand prouder and more alive. She wondered if, once, this is how walking through the Valen Wilds had felt, in Anathaeum's time, where spirits still ruled the woods.

Syr Ranvir stopped the two of them, and seemed to greet the air. A single elven warrior descended from the trees and landed before them. No response, at least not one that could be heard.

A sharp inhale filled her lungs Selene, and she recoiled at the touch of the mindlink that the elven woman offered. Her first instinct was to push away. Such communications were not unknown to her, but she tried to avoid them. It was still difficult for Selene to contain the curse that crawled through her, and even the friendliest of messages could disturb those dark waters. But of course, Captain Hawthorne had warned her of this, and she had a sneaking suspicion that her own hesitations with the Loch was the very reason why he had insisted she go.

Just be honest, he had told her before she'd left. They will respond to that.

Well, she would try it, for her mentor's sake. Selene bowed her head as Syr Ranvir had done and dipped into that well of Loch to pull up an answer for the elven woman. A warm summer night, insects buzzing through the air, a still lake only disturbed by the occasional leap of a fish. An image of home, her own woods, comfortable and lonely and a continent away.

Now, why had she thought of that?

Bebin Theros Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Bebin Theros]

From above, fell the form of their host. Long limbed and strong, with eyes as fierce as the star fire, only bareable by the grace of moon's shield.

How strong they burned. Meters away yet with an intensity that felt as if they were just there before him, separated by inches, and even that felt as if it was burned away by eyes that pierced inward.

He hated it. Yet his face was a mask of stone.

His breath rose with the first pull of breath since this being had risen up to show her proud height.

Bebin did not know what to do. First instinct told him to draw steel. That ambush had fallen upon them and now only the strength of arm would see them through the day. He held that back. Coiled his mind around that fear to let it suffocate and be still. There was no hostility shown.

His breath fell.

His hand stayed, and he shut his eyes in trust. Bowed his head low as he went on with long steady breaths.

He felt the pulse come from their guide. Their purveyor. An ally who might have lived long enough to have seen the first treaties. In those times of youngest Anathaeum. Warmth. Friendship. Trust.

All swirled with a calm and placid loneliness. A distance he had only just learned. Syr Ranveer fed the warmth of the sun, the cool kiss of the moon, and the bright shine of the stars.

Bebin gave rain. Warm against the skin. Cool through the hair. Fresh as pulled through lungs.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Walls. They were of course expected, and so they rose up round about them with strength. The Knights were hardly foreigners to the realms the Aeraesarians walked, and defenses such as these were needed for those such as them.

And again, it was like the whole forest took a breath, and therein those unseen places there was also a moment of space, and patience.

Ranveer had been open, warm and inviting. Her presence drew close, and her name became known, Te'leis - under the Sphere of the Sword, markswoman and diplomat, and friendly. To him there was a gentle and close warmth returned with thoughts offered more freely, though still lacking great clarity until their presences grew more accustomed.

Bebin was less inviting, especially at first as he as well as the other had at first offered walls. But soon, with an enveloping contentment, the walls melted away beneath the warm rain as his hesitancy dwindled away into a not totally certain acceptance. To him her presence drew close, but only so much. But the warmth was offered still, and quietly her thoughts did find their way to him like distant melodies caught amid the autumn breeze, vague but inviting and kind.

And then the third one, whose name was not given, and though her walls too fell aside there was much she contained within. Te'leis' presence also withdrew with her recoil, but not out of spite or provocation. Gentle. Where at first she reached as one would with their arm, now she called from a distance with a beckoning wave. Her presence remained as a guiding light that lay ahead, and though quiet burned with an inviting light. It did not prevail upon her, and instead allowed her to draw near as she felt she could.

And after all this, which to any looking on seemed to take but a moment, Te'leis finally spoke her first words to them, saying, "welcome, dear friends," one arm stretched from her side in line with her hips, displaying open palm, and the other rested on her chest as she bowed her head to them, "please forgive our demand to bring you escort. Our lands are not what they once were. Come."

With that, she turned some, and gestured with one hand the way toward the others, and then started on her way to lead them there at a leisurely pace.

---

Bebin Theros | Selene ​

 

[Selene]

Across the surface of the lake that Selene had wrapped herself around, a warm rain fell. Ripples across the surface broke the silence, and with an exhale of relief, she realized that the elven woman had withdrawn. Now but a distant wave across the shore.

Words were spoken. Selene twisted her hand outwards in front of her heart as she bowed her head low in the manner of Valen nobility. "We thank you for your guidance," she responded as she raised her comet-crowned head. Her dark eyes reflected no light, but her voice was warm.

When the elven woman beckoned for them to follow, Selene did so. As they walked, she could see a fire burning in the distance, though whether this was a residual of the elf's greeting, or truly there flickering between the trees, she could not tell.

 

[Bebin Theros]

Ranveer smiled, still low in his bow, and he let the swirl of the celestial bodies that orbited his mind reflect across the dark pool of his thoughts. He heard the name, and offered back his own. Ranveer Arinnhok, Pursuant of Loch, Knight of Anatheaum, his mind pulsed.

Bebin, while still mixed in the feelings reflected to him, calm and cool, with the trail of leaf litter riding the currents, pine needles set to rustle and stir. It soothed him all the more. He bowed lower, if only for a moment, and the rivers of his mind swelled over. Still, they raced, though they fed a dry land, hungry for their cool greeting. He felt something bounce back from Syr Ranveer, a name.

Te'leis.

Was that her name?

Selene spoke, and he could feel her rise at his side. Syr Ranveer too rose, and Bebin rose last. Eyes still closed, the light of each mind shimmering like so much candescence just beyond a rippled mirror's surface.

"It is no trouble, honored kith, for dangers lurk about the land, and vigilance oft safeguards against it," the old knight of Dusk gave a slight bow, and followed after the aeraesarian.

Bebin again, was last to move. Relaxed as he had found himself within the depths of the mind's waters, the waking world was one rife with tensions, and his coil always wound taught. "What ails your woods, honored kith?" the young knight asked, unable to shake those words from his mind.

Our lands are not what they once were. The thought bounced along some stone of his memory.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

"What ails your woods, honored kith?"
​

What indeed her thoughts retorted, and the uncertainty came first as a darkened shadow with her words following after with a half-turned head, "though our toiling has lasted over a century, we are still not entirely certain. But we can offer you a better answer once we reach Sharyrdaes, and you have seen."

She maintained their casual pace for the short time it took them to draw near to the others, and indeed the fire that Selene spotted far-off was that which Te'leis' kindred rested near. As she drew closer with the Knights of Anathaeum in tow, those waiting for them rose from their places to meet them. Aidathin came forward first, followed by Erën, both of whom greeted the Knights in a somewhat less formal manner, foregoing the hand from their hip and instead only placing one on their chest with a significantly less bowed head. It may have seemed perhaps less formal, but from their perspective, they'd already been introduced.

However they were not totally oblivious to the realities their guests would observe, and so they spoke, Aidathin being the first to do so, "greeting, honoured guests. I am Aidathin, and though it was likely before any of your time I once fought alongside your brethren from generations past. You are most welcome."

And finally the last of them to speak said, "and I am Erën, First Sword of the Order. And you have already met Te'leis. Of our warriors there are none we trust more than these. No matter what trials may seek to bar our way, our traditions of old will be kept and our ancient friendship honoured. You are indeed, most welcome."

From Aidathin, as with Te'leis, a warmth would be extended to each of them in the same manner, and each one respected in kind, avoidant of the initial onsets Te'leis had experienced, as he was able to learn from those experiences of hers. She was like the autumn breeze, and he more akin to the spring's bright sun. From Erën however, perhaps oddly, no such outreach would be felt. No warmth, no light, no darkness - nothing.

---

Bebin Theros | Selene ​

 

[Selene]

The elven woman spoke of an ailment with no name, and a hundred years sought with no cure. A flash of understanding for the other woman rolled through Selene like a peal of thunder, brief and sourceless.

The fire she had seen before came into view, real and crackling with warmth. Others were seated around the fire, and as they rose in greeting, Selene bowed in much the same way as she had done before, though she stayed silent this time. Best let Syr Ranveer say what needed to be said.

Dark eyes watched the two men who bowed and gave their introductions. One, who called himself Aidathin, was like a birch, long-limbed and silvery. The other - Erën - was more golden, but it was a gilding without radiance or heat. She could not tell what he was thinking.

But this much was clear to Selene: before the fire was a gathering of warriors. Perhaps they did not know the name of the curse that plagued these woods, but their allies seemed to have an idea of what form it might take.

Bebin Theros Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Bebin Theros]

While the younger Knights bowed deeply, Syr Ranvir bowed shallow, a mirror of the courtesy their hosts had showed him. For he had learned from them before. Not in so formal a setting, but in more practical shows of trust. Rangings through the Falwood, in years distant to the short blooded, but blinks of the mind's eye to those of the millennial lineage.

"To be in the presence of such living proof of the bonds between our orders, Kith Aidathin, Kith Erën, and Kith Te'leisis, is a most honored welcome indeed," the old Pursuant rose and breathed deep of the forest air, his head held high, for the honor they bestowed upon them was worthy of such pride. Like the proud pines that stood high above, basking in the warm glow of the sun's light, but so too, in the cool and chilling mists that swirled below.

Bebin rose, and did what he could to keep his head above the shift in currents. The warm flow of two minds, the cold pull of another, round which they all seemed to swirl. The First Sword. Wha could this man teach him, the Serreti born warrior could not help but wonder.

"We will do all we can," Bebin assured, clumsily.

A warm laugh bubbled from Ranvir's throat. "Yes, it is as Sworn Bebin says, we will do all we can to aid you, honored friends, and tend to the old roots of our bonds." Another respectful bow of the head, one Bebin rippled after. "I am Syr Ranvir, Pursuant of Loch, and these two young bloods, are Syrs Selene and Bebin, promising prospects I and our Master of Loch believe will take well to your teachings, honored kith, and Sworn Knights of our order,"

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Selene

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Though their was a tremendous stoicism to them, the Aeraesarians did indeed seem pleased that the Knights had come. Such was their way as Syr Ranvir would likely know, and be more likely to see the subtle hints of smiles on the lips of the warmer two. Of them Erën was the coldest, but even his quiet eyes creased some with their arrival and introduction.

And in unison they would reply and look upon each as they did, "Syr Ranvir, Syr Selene, Syr Bebin."

Then just Te'leis, "we hope that our journey to Sharyrdaes will be without incident."

"Our lands are, however, perilous. We apologize, and hope that we can handle whatever comes our way so that you may need only observe."

"Things will, however, be unpredictable. Though, this is something we are sure you are accustomed to... all of Aeraesar sings of the Vale from time to time, and we often wonder of our distant friends."

"Come, surely you have traveled long, and it would be best if we arrived before nightfall."

With only the snap of her fingers Te'leis quelled the fire they'd waited near, leaving only a small plume of smoke rising in its place.

---

The Swords of the Order had met with the Knights of Anathaeum only a short distance away from the borders of Aeraesar, and soon enough it was quite clear when they had arrived. The path quickly diminished, and soon they found themselves upon a most peculiar place. Where they path had once clearly been, and stretching either way for as far as one could see, tall and narrow trees rose up side by side with little to no room in between. Between the cracks there was only darkness, and an ominous mist sept out which dissipated quickly.

The elves came to a halt just there before the naturally born wall, and they examined it with a familiar wonder.

"Even Falwood herself would keep one from wandering into these lands..." Erën said quietly, though loud enough for all to hear.

And they lingered there without a further word until... one, two, then several more appeared until finally there were at least two dozen small lights that appeared. They'd appeared from between the trees before them, and though their light was so bright as to be almost blinding, if one looked carefully enough the small image of a miniature figure could be seen at the center of these small, erratic lights. With each movement they made a peculiar sound, and though they did not seem to speak any familiar language they did make soft sounds that sounded like some kind of utterances. They danced around first the Aeraesarians and then, slightly more cautiously, the Knights.

Then, just as quickly as they'd come, they disappeared back from where they'd came.

And the trees before them stretched either way, granting them entry into a place that though no outward sign of why could be seen, was cast in blackness.

"Aeraesar is not terribly vast... we should be to Sharyrdaes in only a few hours. Are you ready...?"

---

Bebin Theros | Selene​

 

[Selene]

"Even Falwood herself would keep one from wandering into these lands..."

Selene looked with wonder upon the natural barrier that rose up before them. Strange creatures flit from out of the darkness, ones she did not recognize. The Valen had all manner of spirits wandering its woods, but nothing such as these.

"What wonders are these?" she asked aloud, though she did not expect an answer. The little balls of light were difficult for Selene to look at. But still, when one drifted towards her - cautiously, almost playfully - she reached her hand out towards it. The light cast golden hues upon her dark skin as it approached her fingers. Then it pulled away with a sudden backwards push, disappearing with the others of its ilk back between the trees.

Only the darkness stretched on ahead. Selene took a step towards the gap between the trees that widened and warped. She could not see what lay beyond, but this did not frighten her. She looked to the one who spoke, the silver birch Aidathin.

"There are many dark paths that lead to bright places," Selene responded to him. "I am ready to tread this one."

---

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Bebin Theros

 

[Bebin Theros]

Bebin said nothing. For he knew not what to say. His mind so full of twists and turns. It seemed to coil in on itself, wrap around its walls of bone and flesh.

The pitch before them, lightless. Like the loch itself.

Steady yourself, young Syr, you have walked in darkness before. Came a pulse like warm rain's kiss upon his crown. Familial and restoring. As if a father embraced a son.

Never as a man. Bebin's mind replied.

But you are no beast. Ranveer assured.

Webbed as their minds had become. Some part of Bebin knew that nothing he thought, nothing he felt, was hidden hear and now. It was shared. His eyes were wide. His heart quickened.

Ranveer placed a hand upon his shoulder, and the young man near startled out of his skin, eyes snapped to the wizened knight who but gave him a nod.

There are many dark paths that lead to bright places... Selene had said, and Bebin looked to her and found some small measure of calm in her confidence.

"I will follow," he assured. Though he dare not say he was ready.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Selene

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

There was a perceived stirring amongst the Knights, like several raindrops upon a smooth surface of water. But it stilled, and was once again crisp with their solidarity. The Aeraesarians took a breath in unison, and bowed their heads to the Knights as their wordless response, honoured by their bravery in the face of uncertainty. Then, without a further word, Erën led them into the dark, and the trees once again became closed behind them...

---

Darkness, shadow and sorrow - that was what these lands were.​

They'd entered into what appeared to be a small clearing, surrounded by dark and tall trees. All about them there was a strange seemingly cold fog, and it settled into a thick mist around one's ankles, obscuring the ground from view.

The forest herself groaned as a cruel wind blew through, and a horrid howling was heard from afar.

Erën drew his weapons, one a truly elven parrying blade, and the other a magnificent sword made a crystal and steel entwined. Te'leis and Aidathin also readied their weapons, theirs of similar make to Erën's sword. But though they readied themselves for combat, none of them seemed so urgent in their doing so. Te'leis even looked to the Knights with a calmed expression to show their lack of immediate concern.

Merely preparation...

"Come," Erën said, and began to lead them deeper into the blackened forest.

* * *
​

They'd found themselves on a broad path. The trees along either side stretched high and wide. They were without leaf, rather thick with thorn, and the wind seemed to carry their limbs like lunging foes to maim any who dared too close. Beasts of the wild often cried out in the distance, but as time had passed they became more silent.

"We are not far now," Te'leis said after much time without a word, "and soon you will be the first Knights to enter Sharyrdaes in over a century. Much has changed."

---

Bebin Theros | Selene ​

 

[Selene]

Selene wished that the sight of the barren trees and scarred earth was new to her. But it reminded her all too much of the balewoods. Both places that were once verdant, turned to fear and disease. Their elven allies walked with blade drawn and eyes upon the dark press of branch and brush around them. Selene was grateful, but not reassured. Despite her brave words from earlier, her grip on her staff tightened each time a beast howled, or that cold wind rustled the branches.

The one named Te'leis spoke, to say that they were nearly there. "Our records of Sharyrdaes are in sore need of revision, it is true." She stepped over a wandering root that had grown into the path. "Perhaps more than a century. The last Knight to visit was not much of a note taker."

Bebin Theros Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Bebin Theros]

Merely preparation...

Bebin smiled at the notion. One that he was familiar with. If one remained ready, one need not be made ready.

So, he drew his own blade, and gave their guides a nod.

Best to be prepared. he sent.

Syr Ranveer gave a light laugh, and they went on in relative silence.

The march was long, but nothing they were unaccustomed to. Even the death of the world around them. The woods, changed to something near inhospitable, also carried a familiarity to them.

Syr Selene gave voice to the moment. The history of it, and the lack of their records. A breath rumbled in Bebin's voice. A feeling of mild distaste webbed its way through the group, linked as they were.

Syr Ranveer gave another small laugh. "Fret not, Syr Theros," the old knight spoke aloud. "The best way to combat ones distaste for a thing, is through exposure," he laughed again.

The feeling of distaste intensified. "I... am not the greatest scribe," he confessed.

Syr Ranveer smiled. "All the more reason for you to practice, Syr," he assured. "Surely, one of our new friends may find the time to assist you? Hmm?" he looked to Selene. "Or perhaps, Selene will see to your success?" his eyes gleamed like a cat's.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Selene

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

None of these three had been present, but at Selene's mention the collective's memory of the Knight's last envoy came to them.

"Theirs was a noble heart in the Order's eyes," Te'leis softly said.

Like an abrupt and cool breeze Bebin's discontent brushed past them, but stalwart as they were they remained unphased. Empathetic still, and unwavering. Though it had been some time since any visitors had been with them, they had not forgotten their hospitality.

"Our scribes hone their craft nearly from birth. I'm sure many of them would be happy to offer any guidance."

Though this was true, many of the most learned in their society had perished when the tower fell and Sharyrdaes was broken. They had the memory of the collective, but they'd lost the truth of their experience.

They came to an encroaching treeline, and once they'd passed through they came to a great open meadow. Tales of this land were once of great colour and beauty, with rivers as clear as the air. Now the land was dead, the sky was black with rolling cloud, and the dreary fog grew denser here, as though this was from whence it came.

Were it not for this hindering mist the great city could be seen across the valley, instead they could see not but a few armlengths away after only a few moments once leaving the treeline.

The three Aeraesarians hesitated for a moment, peering out into the mist as though their eyes pierced it.

A quiet breath.

Come.

They continued forward.

---

Bebin Theros | Selene ​

 

[Selene]

Emotions and memories not her own slid past Selene, not felt wholly, but as shadows on her periphery, causing her to glance this way and that at her companions. She could taste the reluctance in Bebin's sigh, Bebin who was usually so stoic and difficult to read.

"Scribe work is not for everyone," Selene said. Her own composure was cracked in the waves of connection that rippled through the party. Though her voice was cold, a bubble of warmth rose from her at Syr Ranveer's smile and teasing words. "But if Syr Bebin wishes to read over my notes, he may do so."

It was too grim a place to be bantering so, but such was the human condition. It was only their guide's hesitation that had Selene turn somber once more. Mist pressed in around them, as they left the small safety of the trees and ventured out into the open. The cloying feeling of the damp had Selene trot closer to their Aeraesarian guides, afraid to be left behind.

 

[Bebin Theros]

"Syr Valtomir," Syr Ranveer said with a proud smile. "Some of his records still live on within the archives," he said with a bitter sweetness to his voice. "Though his accounts speak of times... long past," he bowed his head in respect for the land upon which they tread.

Desolation.

The pang of Bebin's feeling was deep. Like mud that sucked one in deeper with each twitch of struggle. Each pull and attempt at strength.

Even amidst the the mountains of Seret, they had told stories of the verdant valley. Of the saphire serpents. Those great rivers that gave life to the world around them. Like so many arteries in the flesh of the earth.

Bebin need not see it with his eyes, for he felt it through his feet. Felt it in his bones. In his flesh. For his gift was to feel the land, as the serpents did. Each careful step upon the plane of the waking world, fed his mind more of what unfolded beyond the mists. Beyond the fog. Thick as soup.

Scribe work is not for everyone... Selene's voice cut through the ephemeral vision that formed in the young knight's mind. His breath caught in his throat, and his eye flit up to find the other knight of Dusk.

"I can figure it out," he tried to say. Thought better of it. His embarrassment permeated through the web of their tethered minds, as they walked through the veiled land, and passed over earth most fouled.

"You can also learn from our hosts" Ranveer teased. "For not every knight can lay claim to such a boon, as being tutored by Aeraesarian scribes," his eye gleamed with pride. "You as well, Selene," he added.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

As they continued on their feet found the stone road, and shortly after they drew near the growing sound of a gently running river. As they came upon it they began across a long bridge which spanned the river's great breadth. The mist diminished here, seemingly warded away by the running waters, but only so much. If one were to look down, the river would appear only as blackness.

It was crossing this bridge when the Aeraesarians all halted.

There were no words, more like a sharp sound which was gone as quickly as it came.

Each of the three readied themselves in their own ways in unison, and Erën's voice rose up, "prepare yourselves, Knights," he warned, his eyes fixed forward into the dense mist that waited ahead, "our fortune has run out."

Aidathin whirled around and brandished his polearm as he faced the rear, and waited.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of sharp talons against the bridge's smooth surface behind them seemed to carry far louder over the running waters than naturally should have been so, yet so it was. And then came a guttural growl that seemed to come from right alongside one's ear.

"These beasts have touched the Shoraes, they know of the Loch. Beware, lest they trick your mind..."

As he spoke the same sounds came from their fore.

Golden eyes of fire came to shine through the dark mist.

Surrounded.

"Now you shall see how we have lived these many years."

---

Bebin Theros | Selene ​

 

[Selene]

A deep-seeded anger welled up inside of Selene, longer lived than her lifespan could account for. The feeling began as they crossed the black river and only heightened as the Aeraesarians readied themselves against some hidden threat. She could not see the creatures that closed in on them, but something inside of her howled and clawed at their presence.

Selene distanced herself from Bebin and Syr Ranveer, facing the rear with the silver birch Aidathin. She held her staff like a spear, the obsidian armonium at its tip ringing with invisible force. Scowling into the mist, Selene strained her ears, listening first to the gut-scraping sounds that approached in front of her, then those sounds behind, and right in her ear.

The beasts were all around, or it was a trick of the mind, she could not tell.

"Let those that sully the waters,
find me in the silt,"

She spoke into the dark. A small prayer, brimming with the magic of the Loch and Vale. Its effects here, in this other wood, near the waters of this other river, were diminished. Nonetheless, thin wisps of blue light still swirled round her feet, gathering.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Bebin Theros

 

[Bebin Theros]

Bebin clicked his teeth as he stood poised and ready. His sword held in a low guard, as his eyes scanned about the retreating mists.

Each click echoed twice, thrice, and again still within the walls of his mind.

A hot huff of air left his nose.

Creatures that knew of the Loch. That have touched the Shoraes. Their eyes, like fire, many and multiplying.

Frustration boiled up inside of him. His mind still raw to the waters of the great sea of dreams. Still untested neath its pressures.

Calm, Bebin. Center yourself.

The young knight's eyes cut toward Syr Ranveer, but saw the blue cloak that draped the old pursuant's shoulders. His blade yet drawn.

Let your mind raft with mine.

Bebin let out a long breath as another set of clicks assailed him.

Their sound muted. Dulled. Syr Ranveer stood calm. Tall and between Bebin and Selene. Magick flowed from him, and fed the two knights at his side.

Bebin let his eyes shut.

Spirits of fen and gale, lend me your sight, make what is hidden clear.

His eyes came open, traced with the blue light of Loch's light. A lens, that might help him peer through obfuscation and illusions.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Selene

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën's stance had deepened, with the shorter sword in his left hand held in a backward grip and drawn back behind him with the other raised up and across his front, his posture defensive. Te'leis chose to rely on her magic, and rather than draw out her bow she clapped her hands together and then promptly drew them apart. From her palms and fingertips a crackling light sprang forth an coalesced in between them. Her eyes began to shine a bright blue, and the energies began running up her arms as it grew.

Provoked, the monsters leapt forth to attack. They funneled onto the bridge and approached from both the path before them and behind them.

Sharply Erën cut through the muddied perceptions the monsters attempted to levy against their minds, and made their number clear. A little more than a dozen, split equally forward and back. But this beacon shone brightly for only a moment, as it could not be maintained forever. And so the illusions of the monsters persisted to hinder their minds.

The bridge was narrow, but not so much so as to be a danger to their comrades around them in their defense. And so, biding only a moment, Erën moved forward to meet the monsters ahead, quick to eviscerate the first one of the monsters to fall upon him. It was a creature with the likeness of a canine, though misshapen and far fouler than any dog or wolf. Other monsters were like it too, and yet some took on a different shape, some even more ghastly than others.

Their movements were either ferocious or uncomfortably awkward, and each of them displayed a formidable strength. As it appeared to be with Erën, however, the speed of his movements seemed confusing, alluding to their inability to quickly adapt.

---

Selene | Bebin Theros​

 

[Selene]

Erën's silent call cut through the haze for but a moment, and Selene saw the shapes their enemy. The warning would be heeded. Bolstered by Syr Ranveer's efforts, Selene felt the magic at her feet shift and respond to her. She remained where she was, to meet the monsters that rushed them from behind.

Something with the bulk and shape of a bear reared up and bore its weight down upon Selene. She swung in an arc and set her stance low. The back of her staff sparked against the cobblestone of the bridge.

One of the wisps of light became solid. It shot out like a tentacle and pierced the beast. But the monstrous bear, who was more awkward than ferocious, did not cry out in pain as an ordinary animal might. It lost its momentum and caught on the magicked spike, scratching at it ineffectively with a back leg as it tried to regain its balance.

Selene did not have time to gawk at that, however, as another, sleeker beast came upon her. A dog-thing that growled and festered. A second spike caught its maw and hefted it into the air. With a cracking movement, the dog split its own jaw open and wrenched itself off the shard of light. It leapt at Selene, strength renewed.

At the same time, the bear let its side rip against the first spike and slammed all four of its paws back down onto the bridge.

She felt the hot breath of a beast right behind her, and claws reach for her robes. Panic set into the back of her throat, but Selene did not stumble. It was no beast behind her, but her companions - Syr Bebin and Syr Ranveer, who she had to trust more than the monsters' illusions. Selene sent all of her anima forward, wisps of light at her feet sliding upwards into a thin sheet.

The dog slammed its damaged snout into a wall of light. Ripples formed in the wall as her staff thrust through, and a blast of magic gutted the beast. The bear met a similar fate shortly after, as she slammed her staff downwards and let the tendrils of magic find their mark.

Bebin Theros Eren'thiel Xyrdithas