Private Tales Let the Lost no longer be lost

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Caliane held a hand out towards the tiger as though it might listen to the wordless command of stay. She dared not look behind her when Tad turned; from how the Soulfire was now clawing at the confines of its iron leash she knew they were of the same ilk as the tiger before her. She took a subtle step back so that her wings brushed up against her companions. Back to back. That was the best way to protect each other from the enemies on either side of them. She had never been good with a sword and had always preferred her bow and arrow, but the weapon felt useless in such close quarters, but without her magic...

With her free hand she reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh but the tiger caught the movement and with a snarl launched itself at her quickly followed by its two companions.
 
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Tadrielus hefted his sword in both hands against the attack. The canine had lunged first, tearing fresh gashes into the wood beneath its feet and exploding forwards. The shimmering blade caught the beast in the chest, and Tadrielus had to duck his head quickly to avoid the snapping jaws that spilled over. Its dark flesh boiled beneath the blessed steel, hissing and steaming into the night. Tadrielus managed to shove the creature back and off of its feet, but the panther had leapt over and planted its titanic paws on his chest.

He felt the breath forced from his lungs, but the old armor held against the tainted claws. He did not have time to bring his arms up for defense, not that he could have reached around the night-cat's body as they fell as a pair. With few options, self preservation flared to life and Tadrielus' eyes flared as bright as two suns.

The flare only lasted for an instant, but it was enough to painfully blind the cat, which stumbled off of him yowling and pawing at its face. Tadrielus lay on his back, struggling to draw breath only a second after the impact, and with a new splitting headache to content with.

No time to rest, old man. With a touch of shame at how much his joints protested, Tadrielus pushed himself upright. The shadowy wolf had apparently been spared the worst of the flare, because it stood (squinting slightly), with hardly a care for its already-cauterized chest wound.
 
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The tiger went straight for her throat.

Caliane screamed and with what little time she had to react, instinct made her raise her hands to protect her face. In the moment of panic she had completely forgotten the dagger that she had drawn. The tiger's jaws locked around her forearm and shadowed fangs sunk in deep to her flesh. For a second the beast seemed triumphant - like it knew that its prey was all but dead - but then its expression seemed to shift and suddenly it threw itself away from her with an ear shattering screech.

Caliane echoed the tiger with her own cry of pain as agony radiated up her arm. Where the tigers teeth had sunk into her flesh there was only black holes, shredded skin and blood. So much blood. It dripped off the tigers fangs-- no, it burned. Still thrashing and attempting to retreat further backwards the tiger continued to howl and cry as its teeth fell away in clumps of ash spreading further and further up the animal's mouth and face.
 
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Caliane’s scream drew his attention. Tadrielus looked away just long enough to see the blood pour from her arm and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

These creatures were not natural, there was something evil inside of them. Tadrielus had no doubt that the black ichor that dripped from their mouths was toxic, either to flesh or to soul, and only the tiger’s pained howls called his eyes off of Caliane’s arm.

He did not have time to make sense of its pain, though, as the dog had risen again. Its fangs remained bared as it paced, maintaining a distance. Between the glowing sword and the tiger’s smoking wails, it was wary.

Only a wet, gurgling hack warned Tadrielus of what was coming. Rather than close the distance, the dog retched a black glob of bile at the pair of avariel.

He stepped back and roughly pushed Caliane, trying to get her out of the way. The wood seared and hissed beneath the fluid, harmonizing with the his off the panther, still clawing at its eyes.
 
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Caliane had suffered many wounds in her time. Had broken her wings, been whipped and branded, but the bite now festering in her arm was a pain that she had never come across before. If she could have she would have torn her own arm off. Black webs crept up her arm towards her shoulder and as it did fire flared to life to fight it back. Each vein it seemed to cleanse, another festered instead. For the first time in her memory Caliane found herself feeling too hot. Sweat beaded at her brow and her breaths came out as pants. She wasn't sure if she was sobbing or screaming or making no noise at all.

She offered little resistance when Tad pushed her out of harms way, stumbling forward and narrowly catching herself before she fell to her knees in the dissolved puddle that had once been the creature who had bitten her.

The wood beneath their feet groaned and cracked.
 
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"Caliane-" he huffed, hearing her body fall to the floor. He had not pushed her hard enough for that, and in his panic he stole a glance. He could just glimpse the fire flickering on and off along her arm... no idea what that meant, but he did not have the time to marvel.

She could not die. The fire angel had already achieved so much greatness in her short life. That the wonders of her future should be cut short... it did not bear imagining. "Stay alive," he whispered, more as a quiet prayer than directed at Caliane, as he set his jaw and took his sword in both hands.

The dog bared dripping fangs, and its belly contracted with a sickening gurgle to bring more caustic bile to its throat. Tadrielus rushed to close the distance between them, using his wings to push forward. The creature seemed caught off guard by his speed, and it flinched just long enough for Tadrielus to cleave its neck with a flash from his sword. A splash of black ichor flew from its severed throat, searing black holes through the pure white feathers of Tadrielus' wings. He cried out sharply as a glob bit into his bicep.

The panther still squinted, but it looked upon him with watering eyes. With a dip into his reserves, Tadrielus pushed cleansing energy through his sword, extending its reach three-fold in a dazzling downward strike. With the cat bisected, he skidded to his knees beside Caliane.

He took hold of her arm and immediately released it with a curse. It was unbearably hot, the soulfire making no distinction between him and the venom it fought. Old, sage eyes darted along the black spiderwebs that advanced steadily, albeit slowly, for Caliane's shoulder.

He checked his own arm. There was an angry, hideous red welt where the bile had burned him, but no darkness crept from it. Whatever evil affected her had not been in the caustic fluids of the dog-demon. Counting himself lucky, Tadrielus placed his palms over Caliane's flesh.

He was able to channel a good burst of healing magic before her withdrew his hands, now reddened. The darkness had receeded a few inches, but immediately resumed its charge. Another curse, an old one, and a spark of anger pushed the old avariel to press his hands to the burning flesh again. He forced more magic into Caliane's limb, and forced purifying light to swirl and mix with the channeling. If this darkness did not yield to the Goddess' gift, then it was no demonic force of this world nor Pandemonium's gates.
 
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"B-be c-caref-ful," Caliane warned through chattering teeth as Tadrielus placed his hands upon her the first time. Usually the Soulfire did well at leaving those its vessel trusted unharmed but it was desperate. She could feel its panic alongside her own as its magic failed again and again. The temperature continued to rise and soon her hair was plastered to her forehead and neck. She watched through watery eyes as the magic made the darkness recede back to her elbow only to pause for a breath before resuming its upward climb.

Caliane gave a soft whimper as Tad once more laid his hands upon her. She willed the Soulfire to bend around him but it paid her no heed. Instead, it seemed to have gathered the older avariels intent and as the healing magic flooded in, the fire sprung in afterwards to cleanse anything the healing might have missed or merely weakened. Agony seared her blood as the combined magical onslaught and she wasn't sure if her screaming was real or in her head. Eventually every trace of the darkness seemed to fade from her skin until all that remained were the nasty angry welts from the beasts original bite.
 
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Caliane’s were not the only screams in the great tree. Tadrielus didn’t listen to the anguished voices above them, singular in his focus on the fire angel. Now and then his magic tried to split off and heal his own seared hands, but he forced it forwards with gritted teeth until the darkness disintegrated beneath it.

He withdrew his hands with a tense sigh. His palms had blistered, but Caliane’s arm was no longer changing colors. The battle was far from over, but he felt a wave of relief that the immediate danger had passed.

“Are you alright?” He asked Caliane. It was a stupid question, for no one who had just endured that wound would be alright. “Can you sit?” Standing seemed a tall order at this time, but she could not remain here in the street.
 
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Caliane's whole body shuddered but she managed a weak nod and attempted to sit up. The sudden heat she had felt that had plastered her hair to her skin faded and left her feeling oddly chilled. Her teeth began to chatter and she wrapped her arms around herself, almost wishing for that heat back again. The Soulfire obliged making her white wings glow with their power and the wisps of the flames once more passed harmlessly through those it did not mean harm to.

"W-what were those things? Are they all gone?" screaming seemed to echo all around them, the large twisting branches of the tree making it hard to pinpoint their exact direction. She couldn't tell, however, if the screaming was from pain or terror.

Or both, the Soulfire hissed. It crouched in her mind ready to attack at the first sign of a black hide. For once, Caliane didn't feel like telling it to exercise caution.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry Tad...Let me see your hands," her face tightened in anguish as she reached for him.
 
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“I’m fine,” he insisted, but allowed Caliane to take his hands. There were angry welts and blisters across his palms, but far from the worst of what the Soulfire could have done. Though he knew if did not intend him harm, he kept an eye on her glowing wings. Despite his readings on the subject (admittedly limited) he had to keep reminding himself that it was a living thing, not merely magic of Caliane's own design.

"I don't know what they were," he replied, truthfully, "But they are not gone, and I do not think it is a coincidence that they arrived the same night we did." The screams continued, and more concerningly, the sounds of steel and battle were decreasing. The wails wrenched at him, a sound far too familiar over the course of nearly seven centuries. If he and Caliane had played even a small part in bringing this terror upon these people, then they were obligated to defend.

Nevertheless, his first loyalty was to the Fireheart. "I am afraid we cannot rest yet, Ruinë. Otherwise there won't be a lost tribe to welcome home after all."
 
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Caliane's expression shattered into sorrow at the sight of his hands. With great care she cradled them, examining this way and that to see just how bad the damage was. The Soulfire seemed to shrink in shame and the glow to her wings faded from view.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered and then released his hands. Without a salve there was nothing she could do for him and from the sounds of peoples screaming and weapons clashing, she knew they did not have the time to go and hunt some down. The only thing she could think to do was to at least bandage them so he could continue to use his weapon. Untucking her shirt she began to rip the ends to form crude ribbons which she wrapped about his palms as carefully as she could. All the while she was nodding along to what Tad said. She couldn't see how this was mere coincidence either, not after the darkness they had seen behind the falls. Had they led these things here? Even more guilt piled onto her shoulder making her wings sag under the pressure.

"I'm not sure how much help I can be. I can't use the Soulfire," she motioned to the tree. One ember wrong and... Her eyes lowered guiltily back to his hands. When she stood she swayed unsteadily, putting out a hand to brace herself.
 
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Tadrielus did his best to brush aside her concerns, though he did not decline the bandages Caliane offered. “That is much better,” he assured her, though his palms still smarted beneath the cloth.

Her empathy was her strength. Tadrielus watched the physical shift of her body beneath her guilt, and felt a momentary pang of shame that he was bearing up so well despite the shrieks and splintering wood above them. He did not enjoy the sounds, but they were not new. They were added to the centuries-long song of war that inhabited him. At this point, they were hardly more than an extra note, easily melded into the background while they worked out what to do next.

“Your fire kept you alive just now,” he replied. “Do you think it could cleanse others as well?” He would never claim to truly understand the ancient magic. The ancient being inside of her. Would it protect anyone other than its host, or would it burn through them completely?
 
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Caliane looked down at her hands, at the fire ripping across her fingers like a street magician might flick a coin between his knuckles. When she clenched them into fists they vanished.

"I... don't know," her shoulders slumped a fraction more, another weight atop them. Shame for not knowing her gifts in the way she needed to, for having ignored them for so long when she should have strove to learn how to harness them. The lives her youthful cowardice would cost them here, today. "I've never tried to use it to heal before. It... protects me but I think more out of a need to survive than anything altruistic," the lack of response from the Soulfire seemed to confirm her suspicion, but then theirs was a complicated still developing relationship.

"I might have to make it think I'm at threat to get it to work like that again."
 
"I would rather you not put yourself in danger," Tadrielus said as kindly as he could, though his voice still carried a worried edge. "Though I daresay the opportunity will likely present itself." He looked up, into the dark screaming far above them. "We must help them."

He did not believe that the dark beings were here by coincidence. The elders they had spoken to certainly would not see it as coincidence. They must save as many people as they could. The alliance depended on it... but more importantly, it was their responsibility.

He stood, flaring his wings half-way. "When you are ready."

Caliane did not need his coddling to stand, to fight. She had bested foes far greater than this. The angelic blade shimmered in Tadrielus' hand, as though it could feel the evil around them. The mask of the kindly old man was cracking. The soldier was coming back out.
 
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He was right of course. Even if he had not voiced them and she had not been so full of fear, Caliane would have known that it was the right thing to do. Her too large heart would never allow her to abandon anyone in need, even if they had just been set against her. She took a deep breath to steady herself and flared out her wings. At least the dangerous putrid blood had not cost her her feathers or she truly would be more of a hinderance than a help. With a nod that she was ready, the pair launched themselves up towards the awaiting darkness.

Fire slid along Caliane's wings as they rose higher into the gloom allowing them to see more clearly the fighting that was happening in earnest around them. These levels must have been where most of the avariels had made their homes for the branchways were crowded with citizens from the elderly and infirm to the younglings, their wings not yet strong enough to bear their own weight. When the two first burst into view there were screams for those nearby though they quickly died away when they realised it was not some new enemy who approached but friends.

Caliane landed near a group of young avariels cornered by one of the shadowy creatures, this one in the form of some twisted bird of prey. It screeched at the sight of her flame and staggered back. Raising her bow, already knocked with an arrow, Cali didn't hesitate to send it soaring straight for the beasts eye.
 
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Tadrielus bolted into the sky alongside the phoenix, keeping near enough to feel the Soulfire's heat. It cast eerie shadows through the bows and more than once made him think he saw some twisted creature from the corner of his eye, only to find it a trick of the light.

The people, their cries of fear, they wrenched at him, bringing to life a righteous anger at the shadowy invaders. He was practiced at quelling this emotion, keeping it simmering just enough to be useful, but careful not to let it boil over. Too many good people had lost themselves to anger. Too many evils fed upon this weakness. He held his sword tighter, now a comfortable warmth in his palm. It was an object of absolute purity, but it had only been so for a few precious centuries. Before its transformation, before it had been purged, the sword had attempted to break him at every slice. The old man's wrinkles deepened whenever he recalled the whispers, the tendrils of darkness that tugged ever so gently into darkness.

Caliane's arrow pieced the bird's skull, and Tadrielus was glad of it. He allowed this satisfaction to go no further and focused instead on the gathered fledglings. "Are you hurt?" he asked, gently extending an upturned palm that pulsed with an aura of soft, white light. "If you are, touch my hand." Short, direct instructions. The panicked did not have the luxury of thought. Those gathered did not speak, too shocked to do so, but no one came forward.

He checked around them for any more monsters but saw only the rushing throngs all headed towards the tree's trunk. "Is there somewhere safe you can go? Somewhere you can hide?"

One of the children pointed a shaking finger in the direction the crowds were moving, towards the large carved door at the city's center. An older child, thin and lanky, swatted the hand down. Tadrielus pursed his lips in a sad sigh. They did not trust the outsiders.

An uncanny howl sounded from the bow's outer reaches.

"Hurry," he told them.
 
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Thankfully, the children did not need encouraging in that. They dashed after the crowds towards the large doors which now Caliane could see were being held open by two soldiers who were urgently ushering people inside. The last defence, she assumed. If the creatures had got this far how many had fallen this night then? It did not bear thinking about, and so she cast it from her mind and focused on trying to give the children and all the other innocents more time to get to safety. Hopefully they had not cast everything of Thyasari off and those doors were warded much like the enclave back home. To protect their most vulnerable.

Caliane loosed another arrow as the source of the growl stepped into the light. She tried not to curse when the thing slid like shadows to the side and her arrow skittered off somewhere into the thicket beyond. She grabbed another from her quiver and shot again to no avail.

"It's like they're learning," she gritted out as the creature dodged a third arrow. The thing even seemed to be smirking. As though it were playing with her.
 
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Tadrielus' sword cast a pale glow around them, a glow that was consumed by the dark being before them. The light reflected from the tree bow beneath, and the leaves behind, but not from the monster itself. It was as if the light shied from its body altogether, twisting around it in fear and leaving only a deep, black hole to reveal its outline.

There were no people behind their foe. Good. The only casualties of this fight would be branches and leaves. Tadrielus hefted his blade in both hands. It felt light, as it always did, as easy to maneuver as his own limbs. The metal that had once fought his control now embraced it, encouraged it, and offered its power willingly. Using this bond, Tadrielus pushed his own magic through the steel and slashed through the air, sending a wide arc of white light bolting towards the monster.

Again it shifted unnaturally to avoid the attack, and the crescent of energy cut through empty air before dissipating. Tadrielus tried twice more in quick succession, a vertical slice that gouged the wood along its path and another horizontal wave to follow. The shadow creature was quick, twisting itself to the side and then crouching beneath the second arc. From here, it launched itself at the pair of them.
 
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Flames leapt to meet shadow as they sprung towards the pair.

The creature screeched and fell back at the wall of blue flames. Caliane had never seen such a flame before from the Soulfire. Her eyes watered but nothing she could do would pull the flames back to her so she was forced to grim and bear it. Beyond the light she could make out the shadow pacing, looking for a hole or opening it could use to its advantage but the snarls of frustration made it clear they found none.

Her eyes flickered to the leaves and branches above them where the flames began to tantalising lick at the dry tinder. The demon's eyes seemed to follow hers and with another snarl is leapt away, back the way it had come into the darker parts of the tree. As soon as it was out of sight, the blue flame died out and Caliane stumbled forward, cheat heaving from exertion.
 
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Tadrielus retreated a few steps from the overwhelming heat of the fire. At first he feared they had come from another unseen enemy, but they had clearly been directed at the shadowy hulk before them. He kept his eyes on the creature as it probed for weakness, found none, and left.

He let out a sigh of relief as the flames made their own retreat, and sheathed his sword before approaching Caliane and offering a steadying hand.

“I haven’t seen you do that before.” His words were intrigued, but his tone was concerned. He was more tired from the brief battle than he cared to admit, but he was well past his prime. Caliane was burning out quicker than she ought to, and that was a danger to herself alongside everyone in the great tree.
 
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"Me neither," Caliane's voice was a raspy husk and she leaned more of her weight than she would have liked on the older Avariel. The blue flame - whatever it had been - had sapped almost three times the amount of energy the normal flame did. She allowed him to lead her a little further down the branch to where a carved bench sat yet unbroken, then dropped into it with a heavy sigh.

No sooner had she done so than a squad of soldiers alighted on the same branch, poised to fight. On seeing their two visitors loose and no enemy in sight though, they quickly changed from defensive to angry.

"You were to stay in your quarters," one with dark green wings with golden edging barked.
 
“I am afraid our quarters became uncomfortable, what with the shadow beasts attacking innocents just outside, or did you not see those?” His tone was a might sharper than usual. He could attribute this to his fatigue, but that would be dishonest. These soldiers should be defending their people, not corralling visitors who had clearly come in peace.

He sat beside Caliane, taking care not to rise and give these avariel any reasons to feel threatened, but their faces did not seem calmed. On the contrary, his words seemed to agitate the one further.

“The shadows that followed you here, you mean?”

At this Tadrielus’ eyes burned cool green. “Followed us?” How could they think these beasts had come with them? What ambassadors would ask for allegiance and then bring a massacre?
 
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"When you went into that cavern, those things got your scent and they followed you here. If you hadn't of--!"

"Galad, that is enough!"

Caliane watched the exchange warily. She didn't enjoy fighting at the best of times, but certainly not when emotions were heightened and they were in the aftermath of an attack that had left people - innocents - dead. She watched as the younger avariel who had spoken first stepped back at his superiors command, and the tightness of his jaw as he fought not to say more. His wings practically quivered with the effort of restraint. The older avariel with grey in his beard and wings of a deep, dark violet sighed.

"Let us escort you have to your quarters. I am sure the Elders will want to discuss what happened with you on the morrow but for now... we must mourn our lost."
 
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Tadrielus had an initial urge to resist, to try and calmly explain that they could help, should help, but he felt Caliane’s trembling beneath his palm. The younger avariel had exhausted herself.

He exhaled, slow and controlled, to steady his heartbeat. “Very well,” he said to the captain. He rose slowly, aiding Caliane to stand as well. He felt as though he should say something to the younger soldiers, perhaps offer condolences or a heartfelt assurance that he knew the loss they were feeling… but such things would seem hollow at this time. No, better to let their pain and anger cool.

He kept a supporting arm on Caliane for the walk back, and the firmness of it made clear that he would not allow her to refuse the help. Their quarters were, luckily, undamaged. They passed the aftermath of their first skirmish and were quietly, yet securely, locked within their comfortable cell.

Tadrielus sat Caliane on her bed and fetched a small ration pack from their supplies. “Eat,” he gently ordered, before sitting on the other bed with a tiredness befitting his old bones.
 
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The walk back was a blur to Caliane's exhausted mind. She kept her eyes on her feet to make sure she did not tangle herself in some protruding knot or trip on a chip in the wood. Though the Soulfire's pride was wounded by the help even the creature could concede that its host was at its limit. She sensed it retreat though lingered at the edges every watchful for those creatures should they return, that strange new fire feeling but a whim away from her finger tips.

She sagged onto the bed and lifted her eyes in time to see their guards close the door behind them and gave a deep sigh.

"This must be the worst diplomatic mission in our histories," she groaned and broke a bit off the hard biscuit from inside the pack, popping it into her mouth.
 
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