Yui-chan

The shadows churn like a featureless mist, a whispering of a thousand voices buzzing in the darkness until it solidifies into one voice that echoes with great distance. "Very creative, certainly. A conversational tone and a second-person point of view are really not used often in fiction writing, and you've got an excellent start, here. I am looking forward to seeing more of the story." As the voice falls silent, Annael blinks and looks at Gyrfalcon, who just shrugs. "Yui-chan. She's away for a while, but she still looks in on us in her own way. I don't know what's up with the talking shadows thing, though. Don't ask me."

"Come, now. Look at us." The familiar voice comes from the doorway through which the mob entered, smooth and calming. "We cannot waste our energy pointing fingers, my friends, or we will never manage to catch the true thief." They turn en masse (except for poor Wyvern, who lays groaning on the ground) to behold a rather unusual sight. Yui's leaning against the doorframe, her face darkened by a scowl, her arms folded across her chest. Celes blinks. Peredhil gawks. Jechum raises a brow. Simon puts a paw under Lewis' jaw and snaps it shut. She stands there in a white tunic and loose breeches, over which a sleeveless white vest lays, its hem skimming the backs of her calves. The collar and the two halves of the front seam are ringed with silver and green leaves, embroidered in a simple, but flowing pattern. It's certainly quality clothing from the dyed white leather of her calf-high boots to the green ribbon that closes the vest loosely, but what makes them stare is what she lacks. The ever-present ebon cloak in no where in sight. When the moment has stretched, her frown deepens, and she straightens from the doorway, gesturing impatiently. "Yes, yes. I do have clothes on under the cloak at all times, you know." She walks into the room, continuing to speak almost to herself. "This thief has stolen Minta, so he cannot possibly be the diminuitive size of an imp, correct?" Gyrfalcon nods, his expression going thoughtful. "Yes, it certainly seems that way." Tzimfemme mumbles to herself. "To get ahold of Minta and keep ahold, he'd have to be an octopuss." Rosemary elbows her in the side, again, scowling, and she falls silent. Yui starts pacing in the narrow space, glancing up as Wyvern gets to his feet and starts dusting himself off. "We need clues. Evidence. We need to know where to start looking. I have already searched the trees around where this thief stole my cloak, yet I found no tracks in the grass other than my own and no sign of anyone having been in the limbs." She stops and glances up at the assembly. "I think we would do well if everyone were to look for any clues they could find in their quarters. I intend to search the grounds for any sign of an intruder." Many of the Pen members nod in agreement. Wyvern pales to a fascinating shade of pink at the thought of searching through the dangerous clutter of his office and quickly decides to delegate the job to Melba. Seth slips the pistol into his pocket, breathing deeply in an attempt to control himself. Morgane bounces, eager to be off. "Good. Keep your eyes open, my friends. We don't even know if our thief is dangerous or not, so be careful." With that, Yui bows slightly and turns on her heel, hurrying out the door. (Yes, you read that right. She just exited through a door for once.) The whole group stands still for a moment, as if still stunned, until Wyvern waves his arms in the air and shouts, " Well, what are we waiting for?! We've got my geld to find!" Every eye in the room is suddenly glaring at him, and the almost-dragon realizes what he said. He grins sheepishly and backs towards the door. "And everyone else's missing stuff, too, of course. Hehe. Um... yeah, bye." And he turns and runs out the door before anyone gets any more violent ideas.

When Gyrfalcon had fallen silent, Kaleyra blinked at him, fighting a losing battle with another of those blasted blushes that showed so obviously in her fair skin. The words "I don't want to lose you" hit her somewhere between her very naive heart and her intellectual head and created the strangest little fledgling feeling. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was warm and ... fuzzy ... Kal blinked and shook her head almost imperceptibly. The whatever-it-was faded, but she could still feel it. Fascinating. He... I mean... I ... What in the bright skies was that? And how can an emotional response seem so ... tangibly touchable? 'Fuzzy'? Have I gone mad? It seemed rather possible, given the horror of the recent carnage, but she ran her mind through some multiplication tables and Elvish verb conjugations with her usual speedy efficiency. Shouldn't a madwoman have trouble with such simple exercises? She had no answers, at the moment, and so she forced her thoughts elsewhere and her eyes away from Gyrfalcon's face. Like the dedicated scholar she was, one look at the fascinating crystal artifact had her thoughts neatly ordered, again, and rational. Mad or not, she had a puzzle to solve, and her excitement drove her doubts away. The crystal caught the last of the daylight, reflecting rainbow fire across her face as she turned it over in her hands for a moment, her expression reverent and her eyes searching. After a moment, she raised her gaze back to Gyrfalcon's and nodded slightly. "Yes, give me some time to study this. I vaguely recall some references to such an artifact in the volumes that I have studied. I shall need to consult my journals and perhaps even travel back to the Erindale library." At her questioning glance around the circle, Timothy and Gyrfalcon both nodded. The Dreamer merely stared, looking exceedingly bored with the conversation. She frowned a bit, confused, but abandoned the curiosity about his reactions, focusing her gaze back on the crystal. "I suggest that we meet at dusk two days from now. There's a notorious establishment in the central square in Erindale, the 'Crystal Dagger.' The perpetual crush of bipedal individuals that surrounds the tavern at that hour should effectively conceal our rendezvous. I shall await you there, if no one has any objections."

A quiet nothing inhabits the tiny shadows in the room, far more thought than presence. A memory surfaces. Then another. The faces and voices, smells and experiences of the past few minutes set off a chain of bursting recollections, not wholly unpleasant, but ultimately overwhelming. Before the thought is squelched by the past and the present, it gathers itself into a feeling-form very similar to a warm smile and assembles silent words, wishes that no one will ever hear. Welcome back, my friend. Edited by: Yui Temae at: 1/25/02 8:21:42 am

The shadows whisper among themselves, their words as incomprehensible as the depths of darkness they contain. After long moments, a familiar form steps through, though more like a shadow-ghost than the solid creature the members of the Pen are used to seeing. Yui-chan smiles to Lumpen as she bows, and the motion conceals the resigned regret in the expression. Elder, it is always a shame to see talent and character leave. I hope you can return to visit often. Stepping back, she simply fades into darkness again.

The huge, damaged steps that once led up to St. Andrew's church were strewn with smouldering rubble and moaning bodies, a scene of frantic activity as the townspeople rallied to help in the face of disaster. As Kaleyra sat off to one side, her keen eyes watching the humans dart here and there, she mused distantly on how very strangely... quiet... it all seemed compared to what they had just experienced. Hm. I'm in a state of mild physio-psychological shock. A small, rational part of her observed with fascination. She giggled - actually giggled! - aloud from the strangeness of the experience, drawing looks from a couple of the human women who were hurrying by. The censure in those gazes sobered her wandering feelings in an instant. This was a place of tragedy, after all, and hardly the sight for humor, healthy or otherwise. She didn't precisely know how she'd gotten out of the cathedral, but she was infinitely grateful to no longer feel the terrifying pressure of the building around her, held at bay by the intricate weavings of what she could only assume to be the mysterious Dreamer's magicks. A shudder skittered down her spine, setting her soot-dirtied wings rustling. Claustrophobia was something she'd read about in one of the many volumes on sentient mentality, and she'd realized that it was only logical that flight-enabled beings should experience it with more regularity than normals. However, that did not diminish the unpleasantness of the experience, and Kaleyra quickly banished the memories from her attention, feeling the fear clawing closer again. With a little sigh and a deep breath of fresh air that the wind had gifted to them through the cloying smoke of the still-burning building, the winged scholar turned her attentions away from her frayed nerves to look around. The human man who'd been helping Gyrfalcon lay sleeping not far away, his body and clothing covered in soot and dirt. He looked to be breathing quite steadily, uninjured, thankfully. She didn't see the Dreamer until the smoke cleared by another fresh breeze, and then there he stood, some distance away, watching everything with those placid, shifting eyes of his. Rather than risk getting caught by the mystery in that fathomless creature's gaze, she glanced at Gyrfalcon as he rose from not far away and went to speak with one of the many humans. The frown that creased his brow worried her, and she levered herself to her feet. She greeted the stab of protesting pain from her headache with a wince and a quick dismissal before she took her first steps. As she approached the warrior-mage, the old man he spoke to shook his head and walked away. She watched the human for a moment before turning her eyes to Gyrfalcon. In those few seconds, his frown had turned into a full scowl, and she frowned in response. When he noticed her presence, the half-elf glanced at the Avian. The question in her eyes was unmistakeable, and he shook his head slightly, wishing he knew a good way to answer her. "I'm not sure if it's anything, Kaleyra. A man I know - an unscrupulous man who expressed interest in the Pool... that old man saw him leaving the temple during the attack." Kal frowned and nodded. "And you think that perhaps he has something to do with what has happened?" She broke off and looked at the charred remains of the church, desolation in her gaze. Her voice softened. "Our only guidance was in that building. The monk is dead, and claimed with him were the artifacts he promised." At Gyrfalcon's surprised look, Kaleyra had the good graces to blush. She looked down, burying her embarassment in the effort to brush some of the soot from her dirtied tunic. As she did, she mumbled, "Um... I am sorry. I ... eavesdropped on your conversation with the human monk. He had turned me out, you see, and I ... " She glanced up and met his gaze, straightening her spine and raising her chin. "I have a duty, and I could not let his stubborness stop me. Still, I am sorry that I was forced to be so dishonorable." The half-elf blinked at the sudden, if forced, change in her demeaner. He barely stopped the amused smirk from reaching his lips as he was forced to admit that the quiet little scholar had some steel in her after all. He kept his face carefully solemn as he nodded wordlessly. The idea of being spied on was not very comforting, but it was hard to scold the lady when he'd most likely have done something similar if forced. After all, the Pool of Eternal Reflection was a prize worth a very high price. Instead, he simply turned the conversation back to the present. "We will have to find a new direction, and I'm beginning to wonder if finding Reyn might not be a good way to start. It's a long shot, but he may very well have learned something in the cathedral that will be useful." Both of them were aware of the Dreamer's quiet approach, and they glanced at him as he spoke. "Or it may be a waste of time that will only give those other mortals the time to destroy more of the clues. We should pursue them." Timothy had just approached and raised a brow at the Dreamer, folding his arms across his chest as he yawned. "And how do you suggest we do that? They used that portal-thing to go to who-knows-where. Are you going to say that you can trace them?" The scarred creature stared coldly at the man, rasping out, "That weave would attract attention that I don't wish. But your mortal mage, here, could probably trace them." He looked at Gyrfalcon, who blinked back, his almond eyes widening a bit. Before he could say anything, Kaleyra broke in, glancing around the little group for a moment before quietly intoning, "Whatever course of action we're going to take, we'd best do it now. I can travel more quickly than the rest of you, so I may be able to find this ... um... Reyn person if you'll describe him and what what heading he was traveling in. Perhaps it would even suit our purposes if I did that while you three searched for the murderers who did this. It would not waste time, after all, and we could plan to rendezvous in one of the nearby cities." Her eyes go to the natural leader of this motley party, and she watches the thoughts flicker behind his slanted eyes. Her own did the same as she fretted about the choice she had offered them. If she broke with the party, there was the chance for them to abandon her if they found any leads. On the other hand, she could abandon them as well, and she knew that Gyrfalcon would realize the possibility. She only hoped he realized that she had nothing to gain from leaving the protection of the powerful warrior-mage and his mysterious friend and everything to lose. On the other hand... as she looked around the circle of strangers, she took stock of each of them. She knew that the Dreamer would not hesitate to abandon her if it served his purposes. Even the few words they'd shared and the few things she'd seen had convinced her that this man-creature served only one being. Himself. The human man who'd helped in the church was a mystery, but he had cynical eyes that made Kaleyra wonder about his motives. He didn't look unkind, really, just ... hard-edged. She was suddenly curious about this man and the things that must have happened to sharpen the wary light in his gaze. Finally, she looked back at Gyrfalcon. Despite the short time they'd spent in each others' presence, the half-elf was the saving grace of her worries. For some reason, she trusted in his honor and his sense of right. He would not leave her, nor let the others convince him to. With that quiet assurance still settled comfortably in her thoughts, the Avian scholar waited for the rest to make their decision, her clasped hands fidgeting slightly.

I've finally been inspired to add a bit of depth to this piece. I'm not entirely sure whether the new writing enhances the piece or detracts from it, but I do feel that it's finally clear what the purpose was. I couldn't very well leave a poem posted that portrays just the opposite of my own view on life. Please, tell me what you think about the addition and the message. Is it clear? Better, now that it's longer, or worse? Thank you, @-/--- Yui Blow the shards apart, Shards of heart. Let them burn where'ere thou art. Cry freezing tears, For seconds, years. Flowing like thy bleeding fears. All, then, be still and rest and die, For better that than choose as I. Better that than shattered naught. Better purged of rancid thought. Better eternity's blank sleep Than bladed hurt that runs soul-deep. Scream wrending pain, A shrill refrain. That shard-sliced bound'ries shan't contain. In suff'ring wrythe, 'Neath Fate's cruel scythe. Surrender all thou art as tithe. All, then, be still and empty lie, For better that than choose as I. Better that than hopeless fight. Better blind than tortured sight. Better oblivion's delight Than miswrought life of venom'd spite. Weave tearful prayers, filled all with cares. Sent winging high 'pon faith-built stairs. Hold tight thy hopes, Those hanging ropes. O'er silent time, belief elopes. All, then, let fall and crumbled lie, For better that than choose as I. Better that than hope distraught. Better walls than risk love caught. Better never first begot Than end in spilt blood come to naught. Blow the shards apart, Shards of heart. End all that is, all that thou art. Give up and cease and fail and die, Or live and fight and choose as I... Edited by: Yui Temae at: 3/13/02 10:59:20 am

I like this alot, Gyrfalcon. Nicely done. And your reality was just ... so very real. Not pretensious and not overdone. Just real. I applaude you.

Dead. Kaleyra stood in shock, staring at the impaled body of Saint Andrew. His surprise, fear, terrible pain... They were written on his face, in the sightless eyes that stared in shock at nothing. In that moment, she made a mistake. She stopped being vigilant, and her defenses weakened. And then the terrible malice in the 'nun's mind manifested itself in the fiery wave that killed a score of monks. It nearly brought the young Avian to her knees. Ah, by the bright skies. She winced, quickly trying to wall herself off from the feelings around her, but still she staggered under the onslaught of a wave of white-hot pain mingled with fear. A number of the fires in her mind went dead in a second, their 'heat' suddenly being swallowed up by cold, cold oblivion. The rest, burned slowly lower, filling her head with silent screams and agony. The psion shuddered, shaking with shock and fear even as she ran despirately through the exercises she'd been taught, rebuilding defenses in her mind that had been crumbled by the surprise. She'd never felt that last flash of death, before, the flare of whatever made a being unique flying free into oblivion. Or heaven. Or hell. It wasn't clear, even to a telepath, what followed death. To her, it was only tragic, empty, cold silence. It was horrible. She would never forget it. Why...? Kaleyra raised her eyes to the high podium, where the 'scholar' Jagon stood smiling darkly as he watched the carnage. As if he felt her gaze, his pitch-black eyes scanned the crowd until they met hers. For one moment, he merely stared at her, unflinching, as a wave of fire washed between them, and then, very slowly, his smile widened. The young Avian felt as if he had reached out a hand and touched her, and her blood froze in her veins. She tore her eyes away from his with a sense of despiration that puzzled her. She felt dirty, as if she knew the darkness of his thoughts even though she had not touched his mind. No. Think about something else. Help... Still shivering, she pounced on a purpose, putting the disturbing Jagon out of her thoughts. She rushed to one of the many fallen, listening to the soft whisper of his pain through her now-fully-intact mental defenses. A few minutes later, Kaleyra was doing her best to save a young human cleric who had a gaping wound in his chest when she heard the compelling voice of Jagon shout, "Enough!!" Her hands stilled for just a moment as she raised her head, but with a determined effort, she again lowered it and resumed trying to staunch the flow of blood. There were voices, but she didn't listen, instead focusing on the creature dying under her care. So much blood... She glanced at her red-stained hands, then looked back at the man. She watched the light in his frightened eyes dimming, and sighed sadly, resigning herself to doing the only thing she could to help him. "Rest, now..." A quick glance past the pain in his mind told her his name. "... Gier. Sleep, and when you wake up, you will not be in pain." With a gentle nudge from her mind, he slipped off into a slumber that would ease him into death, and the winged woman rose, seeking another to try to help. She was bent over a true nun, a woman laying unconscious on the floor, when she heard the Dreamer call her name. Surprised at the raw power in his raised voice, she lifted her head in time to watch him head for the opened doors. For the first time, she noted the condition of the building, and her heart beat faster. She looked back down at the pale face of her latest patient and then glanced to where Gyrfalcon and someone else were already starting to follow him. They were leaving. "No! Wait!" Kaleyra didn't rise, staring at them with wide eyes as she waved a hand at the bodies strewn around them. "We cannot leave them! There are many still alive. I can feel them. Please, you cannot leave! I... I need your help..."

A quiet and still shadow sat on the rafter in the high-ceilinged backroom used for confessionals, her chin perched on her fist as she mulled over everything she had overheard. The way was quite clear, but she frowned and sighed, shaking her head gently. It is neither dignified nor honorable to be skulking about in the shadows. I should never have allowed my situation to degrade to such a point. I am a daughter of the Matron, and as such I should be elevated in my social and moral fiber to such a degree as to be exceedingly shamed by my serruptitious behavior. The frown only deepened. However, I've a task set before me that I dare not fail at, and that troublesome male human refused to aid me. There is no more to be found in the Muriska library, at least nothing that has not already been duplicated and expanded upon by the Avian scholars... This is truly a dreadful connundrum. The winged woman gave another soft sigh, spending long moments after the footsteps of the four men had faded down the hallway in contemplation of what she had done and what she should do now. Her thoughts went in circles, corralled on one side by the duty that defined her life and on the other by the much-vaunted sense of decency and honor with which she was raised. It was a conflict she'd never faced before, and one which did not sit well with the meek little scholar. ... finally, as the voices of the many who were travelling towards the lecture hall had finally faded into the distance, her head came up, a new resolution in her eyes. With a sharp nod to herself, Kaleyra vaulted down from the rafters, spreading her wings wide to alight gently on the floor of the chamber. As she strode from the room towards the echoes of gathering scholars in the distance, she mumbled to herself, "No more hiding."

Monsieur mon Elder, Pourquoi en anglais? Why can they not apply in French, so long as it is custom-written for the Pen?

" Ie, ie! Haruchi-sama, ikanai kudasaimasu!" The ebon-cloaked figure fizzles into place, hoping to stop Haruchi in time. "Your writing is excellent... Will you let me entertain you while our busy Elder tries to catch up?" Her form wavers, then steadies, and she attempts a friendly smile and a bow. " Temae Yui desu. Hasimemasita. I don't suppose you fancy foreign beers? I've some Heineken to share..."

When the packet is found, the mage delivers it to Dakeyras with a curious expression. Equally curious, he opens the simple, string ties and sets out the pages. On them are a strange set of writings, almost as if they were a transcript of a conversation, complete with the times at which each piece was said. Puzzled, he settled down into his window seat, his errands forgotten, and began to read... [16:56] * Yui decides to stand up and do a bit of improvisational storytelling... [16:57] The dreams began three nights ago. Burning... it was all burning... [16:59] The flames rained down from above, poured from the damned mouths of a flight of red dragons that soared over my troops. My treants howled out their pain in the voice of nature destroyed. [17:02] The dryads were too slow, falling under the burning blades of a legion of enchanted knights. The nymphs, fighting in the formations my Armsmaster had so carefully taught them, were blown like leaves on the wind by a few well-placed oil flasks. I watched, helplessly, from the parapets of the castle, the sounds of their death ringing in my ears, my dreams of peace shattering in my heart. [17:04] A servant came to my side, frightened and shaking, yet stalwartly fulfilling his duties to his Huntress. He took my arm, placing the ebon cloak about my shoulders as he tried to pull me from my despondent observation, from my defeat. [17:05] "Y-Yui-chan... please, you must go! The dragons will be upon the castle any moment! If you run, now, you, at least, may survive this!" I stood still, resisting halfheartedly until that last sentence. And then I woke up from my own little nightmare... [17:07] ... to my cozy little bedchamber and my favorite soft nightrobe. I sat up with a scream caught in my throat and tears in my eyes. [17:08] "Gods," I whispered. "It was only a dream... " I took a deep breath and let my tense muscles relax, my head dropping a bit to stare at the soft white linen of my bedcovers... and that's when I realized... [17:10] ... fire reflected off the bright colour, lighting the darkness too dimly to be my long-extinguished chamber fireplace! I looked up with a gasp, my eyes flying to the starry night and its full, bright moon through the great windows of my chamber. What I saw sent ice down my spine... A red dragon soared off in the distance, lighting my kingdom with his fire. [17:13] Rushing over, I threw open the window, coughing as the deadly smoke hazing the land rolled into my chambers like the mist of death. My heart shattered to see my dream being played out in every tragic detail before my eyes. The fires of Eradication lit my peaceful world, consuming. Destroying. [17:14] "Dakeyras..." I whispered, anger breaking through the horror and grief. I truly believe that, had the mage been standing there in my chambers in that moment, I could have struck him dead with the force of my wrath. [17:14] I wish, sometimes, that he had been. [17:16] Anyone who would attack a peaceful kingdom just for the pleasure of destroying it deserves my wrath. And fear not... felt it, he has, and so shall it continue between the two of us until I have seen him dead. [17:20] But anger does nothing if you do not back it up with action, and I did not long let myself revel in the feeling. Grabbing my cloak from the bedstand, I rushed out of the chamber and down the great hallway, dodging the panicked soldiers and servants rushing hither and thither. [17:24] In the melee, I was barely noticed as I sprinted from the castle to the stables in naught but my nightrobe with bare feet and no weapon. When I arrived, the stablemaster took a look at my attire, opened his mouth to say something, then saw my face. Not another word crossed his mind as he quickly saddled my fastest stallion. [17:25] I was on his back and out of the castle yards before the second wave of red dragons had even crossed the border, my robe and cloak whipping around me as the beast ran towards the hillside grove and the Lore Node. [17:28] The countryside was hell, fires spreading quickly across the fields and through the small villages dotting this side of the border. The smoke was thick in the still night air, rising around me in its best effort to keep me from my goal. My mount squealed in protest as a dragon bore down on us, leaping nimbley into a copse of trees as the ground behind us exploded in fire and heat. [17:30] The gods must have been merciful to us, is all that I can say to explain why we did not share that disastrous fate, yet somehow myself and the horse kept right on going, crashing out of the otherside of the trees as the dragon veered back off into the sky. [17:32] And there it was, rising up among the flames, untouched despite the destruction around it because of the pure, holy Life living within. The Lore Node. The best-kept secret in all of Terra. [17:35] ... and between us and it a small party of Chimera... My heart dropped into my stomach even as I spurred the horse into an even faster run. [17:39] I looked around frantically, searching for a way to get myself and the horse through the deadly creatures, the weight of the moment heavy upon my shoulders. If we failed, if we did not reach the Lore Node, there would be 500,000 innocent peasants left defenseless against the fires of death. 500,000 lives consumed by destruction. [17:44] I'm not sure whether I should credit the gods, blind luck, pure despiration, or a very wise Armsmaster for what happened next.... I had found nothing, no alternate path, no concealing tree, nothing but 20 hungry Chimera with their eyes fixed on myself and my galloping steed. Their razor-sharp teeth gleamed in the firelight and moonlight, looking as though they dripped blood. Perhaps they did. [17:45] Thankfully, I shall never know, for in that moment when I closed my eyes, expecting the leader to leap upon me and start rending flesh, there was a sudden, piercing cry through the sky. When I opened my eyes in surprise, it was to see the Chimera flying through the air at my face... [17:48] I screeched and shrank back, abandoning myself for dead and cursing my own failure, but all I ever felt was the wind of its passing. The fire-beast's screams joined that of all of its squadron as the life-fires of a pair of phoenix enveloped them. [17:50] Amazed, I looked upwards and smiled warmly at the magnificent birds. My own favorites, I knew each of my phoenix by sight and by name. Xia and F'iri tipped their wings to me in greeting before soaring back into the thick of the battle after a red dragon. [17:52] My way to the Lore Node now clear save for the smouldering piles of ash that had once been Chimera, I spurred the steel-nerved stallion forward, crossing the last bit of burning ground into the safety of the grove. [17:54] Crossing the threshold was like stepping from hell into the very heart of tranquility. The interior of the grove was silent and still, filled with a soft light that could not be seen from outside of it and warmed by the very Life of Terra no matter the temperature of the night. [19:02] I could feel the power of the Node in the air around me, almost like the 'scent' of a flower or the heavy air of a humid day. It sang to me, relaxing me despite the images of carnage still fresh in my mind from the battlefield. [19:05] It sang a song to my weary soul as I slid from the stallion's back, clutching my singed and ragged nightrobe around me. Almost unconsciously, I found myself walking deeper into the trees, drawn like a moth to the focus point of the Life Magic around me. [19:10] And then I was there, cradled in the heart of peace, wrapped in the warmth and security of tranquility. It's very seductive, the Lore Node, and every mage who enters it must fight a battle to retain his purpose, his will. With that kind of pure rapture enveloping you, all you truly want to do is lay down and languish, leave the pressures and tragedies of life and kingdom behind and bask in peace. [19:13] *laughs a bit* Perhaps I should say that -I- was thus tempted. Long months of a leadership I didn't want, the pain of losing my brother, the loneliness, the pressure... I wanted to just lay down and let it all slip away from me. I wanted it so badly that I was kneeling before I realized I had moved. ... so tempting. [19:14] ... so tempting... And then a smiling face broke into my rapture, a single thought that brought me back to my feet. Soft, blue eyes with a hint of grey; a warm, loving smile; that handsome face, every detail of which I had long ago memorized. As he has so many times in the past, Aegon saved me from myself. After all, I could not stay here, where he was not, no matter how tempting it might be. [19:22] *smirks a bit* And, yes, I know you're going to read that and think 'ugh... romantic drivel', but you cannot understand until you have loved someone yourself. He is my other half, as surely as if we were two beings cut from one. I would be nothing without that mysterious something that makes us in love, and nothing is stronger. Not even the lure of Life itself. [19:23] Anyway. I digress.... [19:26] The rapture shattered, and I was again aware of myself and my people and my mission in this place. The battle raged on outside of this magical place, and I knew it again. The time had come to harness the power of the Node and bend it to serve my will. 'Tis never an easy task to cast magic, and such powerful magic as that of Terra's soul itself requires even more. [19:29] Rather than channeling such power, you must give yourself to it... 'Tis hard to explain, but perhaps you can think of it as thus: You cannot direct the flow of a major node from outside of the magic. You must, instead, give yourself over to it, altering the flow and shape of the power from within. In all truth, it is both a frightening and an indescribably invigorating experience at once. I fear that the power of words falls far short of describing it. [19:32] I can only say that you have not -lived- truly until you have lived a moment's time as a -part- of magic. In a heartbeat, you know all of the secrets of the vast Planes of existance. In another, you know nothing, and are as pure and innocent as a newborn babe. You become everything and nothing, a part of the whole and an outsider, alone within ... infinite numbers. [19:38] As a part of the magic, I gathered together the loose fragments of my 'self', drawing them into my heart from the depths of emptiness and singing them a song of what I wished for 'us' to do. No more burning. No more death. Force the eradication away, and protect the sanctity of life. [19:40] I vaguely remember lifting my face to the night sky and feeling the fat drops of rain on my cheeks as the power roiled within me. I vaguely recall muttering words that I know no meaning for and raising my hands in entreaty to nature. [19:46] And then the power consumed me, ripping through me and up into the sky, spreading over the land through every plant and tree, every squirrel and bird and worm. I died a thousand deaths in that instant, lived the pain of every singed leaf, every trampled flower, every burning tree. I'm sure I screamed, but there was no one to hear it over the screams of the chimera, dragons, salamanders and other creatures of fire in my lands. [19:52] As the wave of magic washed over them, it ripped them apart, like dust blown in the wind, absorbing their lives and using the energy to repair the land... or so I was later told. I knew nothing from the moment that the pain began until I was found the next morning, unconscious on the grass. [19:58] Still hurting, as if every nerve in my body had been... singed, I rested in Aegon's arms on that ride back to the castle, grateful for his strength and his warmth and his love that had sent him rushing to my lands as soon as he heard of the attack. Lulled by the rocking of the horse beneath us and exhausted beyond words by what the magic had given to me and taken from me, I watched the repaired lands pass by and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep... one no longer plagued by nighmares of fire… [19:59] * Yui grins and takes her seat, again, finally finished with her rambling monologue.

[From the Tavern of the Morning Rose, 05-06-2001] In the morning, when the mages of the Legion start to rise and shuffle about in the process of waking up, a shadow breaks free from the wall of the Stage area, the darkness separating from the rose-tinted light of the rising sun. The shadow-figure makes her way to the stage itself, the ebon fabric making it look as if she floats rather than walks, and sets a tied bundle of rough, slightly-yellowed papers on the wooden surface. With a smile and a satisfied nod, she makes her way back to the dying darkness and uses it to ShadowWalk back to the Fortress of Darkness. On the bundle of papers is a note that is labeled in a flowing script. To Lord Dakeyras, of the Legion of the White Rose. An amusing and creative adversary who has inspired me.

Feel. Love and Care. Live. Learn and Act. Laugh. In the Old Way. Hurt. Fight and Hate. Die. Teach and Rest. Cry. In the Old Way. Hope. Trust and Give. Breathe. Share and Take. Sing. In the Old Way, The only way. Find your way, the right way. Never their way, the locked way, the stifling way. Only one way is the true way. The Old Way was your way. Live that way. A bit of very random poetry-looking stuff from yours truly. Please don't lynch me.

RagingGoat, would you be so kind as to send me a quick note so that I can have your email address? vayenne@yahoo.com

"Um… Well, I suppose that the introductions have already been concluded on my part, however the moment warrants a reiteration." Kaleyra fidgeted a bit, her wings stirring the still air of the room as she unconsciously fluttered them. "My name is Kaleyra d'Avie, envoy of the Avian Matriarch." She paused, scanning their faces for signs that she knew well not to bother looking for. It had been millennia since the Avians had chosen isolation over war, yet still she found it disappointing that so few knew of her people in this outside world. Even the strange Dreamer, whose very presence unnerved her for simple lack of presence, looked blank at the mention of her race. Resigned, the young woman sighed and dropped her eyes to the book in her hands. "My people are one of the few Ancient races to have emerged intact from the Armageddon War of distant history. If you are not familiar with the relevant details of this, it is the War that wiped the face of Terra clean and loosed the bonds on the force that most creatures have come to know as 'magic'. Into that dread time went many races of great scientific and technological might. From it came sticks and stones and houses of rock and mud. The Avians and at least two other races that I believe I have recently found reference to had policies of isolationism at the time of war, and so managed to escape the worst of the destruction, emerging from the conflict with some semblance of their knowledge, technology, and culture intact. "For 2,968 Orbits after the end of that War, we lived separate from the rest of Terran society. Our isolationism had ensured the continued prosperity of our race in the past, thus my ancestors assumed that it would continue to support us through the violent period of rebuilding that the outside world was experiencing." The winged woman raised her head again, glancing at the faces of the three men uncertainly. "I… excuse me. I digress." She sighed and set the book down on the table beside her chair, tearing her gaze away from the letters embossed on its leather surface to meet Derick's eyes. The religious man was reminded of a winter storm by the forced emotional freeze in that steel-hued gaze. "Eighty-three years ago, a series of massive earthquakes struck the ocean around the archipelago that had been the Avian's homeland for all of recorded time. Without warning, they were engulfed by a tsunami created by the sub-auditory oscillations of the ocean floor. Over two million Avians and 3,000 years worth of history, knowledge, and technology were lost on that day, and the damage triggered the dormant volcanic reserves beneath the islands. The records assert that, of the twelve land masses in the archipelago, three were submerged by the tidal wave, five crumbled from the geological stresses, and two were completely blanketed by lava from eruptions. "The histories record that 2,113 Avians survived the initial disaster. Less than half of that number reached the mountaintop plateau that we now call Lateth Refuge. When I was born, the harsh effort to survive had reduced the known Avian population to merely 756 individuals. Our culture is dying, struggle though we may to preserve our dedication to knowledge and beauty and advancement, and nothing that our leaders have tried has been able to stop our slow death." Finally, the young woman broke her eyes away from those of Saint Derrick to look first to Gyrfalcon and then to the Dreamer. "I was raised very painstakingly for this one goal: to locate the Pool of Eternal Reflection and utilize the wisdom it grants to save my race from extinction." Her eyes returned to the Saint sitting there in his silken robes and the cold strength of determination faded, leaving the usual stormy-blue insecurity that he'd already come to recognize about the woman. A bit more quietly, Kaleyra intoned, "I hope your God would consider that sufficient motivation, Father..."

Archive Note The parser missed a post, adding it here to follow the flow of the story exactly as it appeared on the ezboard website. Zadown posted, Yui Posted, Kaleyra boggled at the scarred man, frozen in fear like a deer upon spying the hunter's flying arrow. As he lowered his blade and made his apologies, she took a staggering step backwards, tripping herself on the corner of the chair she'd been sitting in. With a yelp and the wild flinging of both arms and wings, she landed with a graceless thud on her rear. She was too shaken to be embarassed, however, and the winged woman made no move to get up, just gazing at the two strange men from the library's stone floor. As rational thought returned to her, however, so did the scarred man's words. Gulping to try to swallow the last of her shock and fear, Kaleyra managed to stutter, "I-I'm ... not of angelic stock, I assure you." She did not give either male a chance to help her up, scrambling to her feet amidst her own words. "My name is K-Kaleyra d'Avie, and I can safely claim that my genetic makeup would quite prove me to be flood-blooded Avian. Seeing as angels are not even mortal, according to my research, I most certainly do not qualify." As she droned on, muttering almost to herself about the 'noncorporeal manifestations' of most angels and 'evident hypertension' on the part of her attacker as she brushed the dirt from her clothing, Gyrfalcon watched her, taking in the details of her tall, lithe frame and angular form. The torchlight glinted off the silken light-chestnut braid decorating her head in a complex series of weaves and knots. Her clothes were a smooth pair of dark brown leggings under a belted, blue tunic, the edges of which were trimmed with an ornate border of ribbon embroidered in silver and a lighter and darker shade of blue. At her waist, it split into a front and rear panel, both richly embroidered in that same graceful swirl of blue and silver. Though the details of the garments were still largely concealed by the shadows flickering around her, the signs of wear and travel showed in the subtle lines of mends and patches. As Gyrfalcon's glance travelled down to the dark leather of her knee-high boots, Kaleyra noticed both his examination and her own rambling monologue. With a slight blush, she let her words trail off into awkward silence. "... um... Now, then..." She squirmed a bit, glancing back at her books as if seeking refuge... or strength. "Would you gentlemen care to introduce yourselves and reveal your purpose in this establishment?"

Entry 322 278th day of the Caréne Solar Cycle Third Quarter of the 3051st Orbit Since History Began The journey from Lateth Refuge in the Great Silver Mountains terminated with my arrival in the Southern city of Felleros, where the ancient studies indicated the existence of a lineage with supplemental knowledge of the Pool of Eternal Reflection. After ascertaining the location and disposition of the family's current Matriarch, I proceeded to contact and interview the woman, who then directed me to speak with her brother. (Note: Most of these races maintain a primitive Patriarchal society, so I must remember to direct future inquiries towards the males. Females seem to be relegated to positions of servitude and child rearing, with only a few exceptions.) Thus have I come to be here with the human known as Father Derick, a male in the middle of his lifespan with the weight of overeating and underactivity around his abdomen. My initial estimates would indicate an excess of lipids to a dangerous extent, and I was alarmed to note that the symptoms of circulatory blockage were evident during our initial conversations. Though I've taken the vow not to interfere any more than necessary with the workings of these external societies, I find myself wanting to teach the man how to better his health before he dies of cardiac arrest. Beyond his role in my important quest, I have found him to be quite kind and knowledgeable. His death will be a loss to his race. Ah… I digress. Father Derick seems to be reluctant to share his personal knowledge with me as of yet. It seems as if he is waiting for someone else to arrive, though he has not said as much to me. Regardless, I have been kept quite busy pouring over the plethora of resources that the elderly human has stored in his library, much of which confirms the information that our own scholars have gathered on the Pool of Eternal Reflection. In fact, as I look around the walls of this sizeable library, I find myself remembering the stories that the Survivors have told about the Sanctuary of Knowledge that once existed in the Great City. I can only imagine that the Shikara of the old land tended libraries as rich and full as this one. When I have found the Pool, I will make sure that their descendants will do so again… Ah! Read: "The Vishari fought a great war with their brothers of the S'den, killing and dying in numbers exceeded only by the Ragnarok of the history past. Mountains fell and rivers ran red, and in the center was the Gift from God, from which flowed immortal wisdom and the Peace of the Everlasting. Fire lit the sky, raining death upon land, and lightning split the night asunder. The rocks moved and screamed their pain while the earth spit its burning blood from wounds as black as darkest night. And God, in His infinite Wisdom, did see that His Favored Children would destroy His Creation and sunder His Gift. So did He reach His hand down from the Heavens and scoop up the waters, washing them over the First Land to cleanse it of the filth of war. "When the waters were still again and God did see His Children lying dead and broken, He cried His tears upon the land, covering the bodies in his soothing salt. …" -- from The Deity Scrolls , self-proclaimed record of the early ages after the Ragnarok of old. Dated in the ancient way. Season of New Life, 428th Circle since the Recreation. I'm elated to have found this entr A ringing knock shattered the serene silence of the library, stilling the quill from its scratching path across the page's smooth surface. The writer started from her page, her steely-blue eyes going to the small, wooden door that graced the far wall. A quick glance at the steadily-burning candle on the book-strewn, rough desk before her brought a puzzled frown to her sharp-boned face. "Puzzling. Father Derick said that he would not return for at least another quarter-candlemark. Who could this be?" the woman muttered aloud to herself. Curious, she stood, tucking her feathered, salt-and-pepper wings tight against her back as she set her quill back in its inkpot. Unconsciously, her head tilted to the side with a birdlike suddenness, her hand raising automatically to shove the spectacles back up her nose from where the motion had thrown them. While the door slowly groaned open, the young Avian scholar called Kaleyra watched in naïve security to see who was behind it… {Editted to remove the signature image of the wrong character. }

Knowledge must be shared, not stolen... I could never invoke that debt just to have my questions answered. The thought pricks her, causing war between her curiosity and her honour. The outcome, however, is never in question. Yui sighs, eyes downcast after following the Dreamer's gesture to the newly-reappeared door. After a moment's hesitation in, she stands slowly and turns towards the doorway, her fingers trailing across the smooth surface of the table as she thinks. ... no. I can't leave here with nothing. Those grey-green eyes are thoughtful as she turns her head back towards the Planeswalker, watching the colors of his eyes shift and swirl absently. I must convince him, somehow... get him to share something inexpensive... Nodding to herself once, the Huntress pauses and allows her shoulders to follow her head, standing before the Dreamer with her hands pressed upon the table. He frowns slightly, an action that makes his scarred visage even more foreboding, and the red in his eyes thickens as he watches the mortal compose her words. "I could never demand that you share something of yourself with me, Dreamer, so lay that fear to rest." He blinks, taken aback a bit by a response that is precisely the opposite of what he'd expected, the purple consuming most of the red within the orbs of his eyes. "Instead, I am just asking for something to help me know you. Will you not even give me even the smallest, most innocent story from your existence?" The Huntress pauses and drops her eyes for a moment as if to rest from the effort it takes to be so brash, but the hope is still there as she raises them again to his. "Tell me 'no', and I will respect your wishes. I do not wish to be a bother, only, perhaps, something of a friend..."

Elsewhere... Yui stopped in the midst of the word, raising her head from where it was bowed over the yellowed parchment of yet another word-filled page. The strangest 'ring' of magic, dissassociated and ephemeral, had pulsed from within the Pen walls. Normally, this would not have even garnered her attention, as the many mages here were often slanting spells and mana charges through the laden aether... however, this magic had a familiar 'taste' to it, the signature of a mage she knew and hadn't expected to feel in this place. Curiosity piqued, the Huntress stood and lifted her cloak from its hook on the wall, tucking her magic quill into its concealed pocket. As she swung the garment over her shoulders, the hum of its unique not-magic sang through her veins, and she opened the link through the shadows, locking the far end onto that familiar tendril of presence. The page of writing lay forgotten on the desk as Yui-chan disappeared into the darkness...

Yui frowned slightly, sitting there before the scarred face of the Planeswalker. Now that he'd asked the question, she wasn't sure how to begin. How do you ask a person about the things in his head? Where on Terra can I start? She was acutely aware of the uncomfortable stretch of silence as well as the impatience in the pristine white of his chameleon eyes. When the words still would not come forth, she sighed softly and met his gaze. "I ... am not sure how to voice my questions. They're a bit too deep and too ephemeral." She managed a slight smirk. "I would suggest that it's like trying to reach out and grasp a cloud, but I have the sinking suspicion that you could do so with a thought." An idea struck her, then, one that she nearly dismissed as being more brash and forward than was her wont... However, the need for clarity broke down that moment's hesitation. "Would you... would you tell me about yourself? I saw such ... tantalizing hints of so many things when we ... 'passed'. My curiosity refuses to release me..." Wincing, she lowered her eyes to her hands clasped upon the inky surface of the table. It was so much to ask, and done so clumsily...

Yui steals a page from Gyrfalcon's book and just writes: *applaudes*

... and the shadow behind Wyvern's chair stirs, bringing two sets of squirrel ears to instant attention. Simon gasps, and leans over to whisper to Lewis while the Pen's Recruitment Tyrant... er... Elder drones on about fees and overheads, working towards a mind-boggling initiation due. "Does this place have Imps, too?" Lewis shrugs, scowling thoughtfully at the now-still patch of darkness. "Could be. I don't remember any reports of sightings, here, but .... those Imps get around." His eyes fixed behind the droning Wyvern, Simon just nods. "... we may need a few tr-" "DON'T say it." Lewis' glare should have started Simon's fur smoking. "Let's not get kicked out of this place before we're allowed to stay. Besides, it's probably just-" He doesn't get to finish the thought as a voice breaks the monotony of Wyvern's diatribe. "You won't get a single geld from them, Lizard, and you know it." Wyvern jumps about five feet, landing just behind the squirrel duo and looking for all the world like he's ready to bolt out the door at a moment's notice. Smirking, Lewis turns to Simon. "I told you." His furry partner frowns, brow ridges furrowing. "You did not. You never said a word." "Yeah, well I was about to." Lewis turns pointedly back to the Huntress' form as she steps out of the shadow, a smug look plastered on his face just to annoy Simon. Yui laughs softly, glancing from a hyperventilating Wyvern down to the two furry Legionnaires. "Hello, gentlesquirrels. It's nice to see you here. I hope everyone has already given you the warning about not listening to any of our dear Elder of Initiates' demands for money." The recovered almost-dragon in question rewards his Quill-Bearer with a shrivelling glare before adopting his most placating innocent look (which is about as placating and innocent as Bill Clinton). "... I was only going to ask for a little. Really..." The Huntress merely raises a brow and stares, and after a few minutes of hopefully clinging to the expression, Wyvern wilts and mutters, "Oh, all right. No charge..." Yui smiles brightly and steps over to the trio, patting Wyvern on the shoulder wordlessly before she turns her attention to the squirrels down by her feet. With a curious look, she crouches down to the pair. "Lewis. Simon. Nuncio told me you were here, so I thought I'd best check in on you. I suppose that, given your current location in Wyvern's office, I need not ask you why the Legion's dynamic Squirrel Duo is here... But I'm curious. Where is Lord Isachar?"

Yui shudders slightly, chilled by the threat of the moment past as much as she is awed by the magical ebb and flow of this fascinating place. It feels almost like I am floating in a pool of pure mana. I can feel the currents around me, thicker and stronger than anything I have ever felt in Terra. And the way he gathered it around himself... I have no doubt that the Dreamer could have ground me to dust in an instant, had he wished to. She meets the colorless eyes of the Dreamer, then, her own faded-green a vibrant contrast in the heat of excitement. As he gazes back expectantly, she finds herself drawn up short, opening her mouth in a first failed attempt to explain herself and then closing it again helplessly. Why, exactly, did I come here? I can't just tell him that it was curiosity, and he certainly won't understand this strange... fixation on what he showed me. The Dreamer frowns impatiently at her hesitation, and Yui winces. Well, here goes... Gathering her composure about her, the Huntress bows slightly to the Dreamer and intones, "Please forgive the interruption, sirrah. I regret my poor timing." Straightening, she meets the dingy depths of his gaze bravely. "I came to ... I came seeking knowledge, knowledge which I had hoped you could provide. ... May I stay for a short bit?"