Carantathraiel

Wanderers

A Wyvern. Lyta stared, then looked away, trying not to be rude. Even when Elva came to sit closer to her, Lyta only glanced her way for a few seconds. And then she revealed that the man who had given Lyta funny looks was also a Wyvern. And he'd offered his kerchief! Lyta realized, feeling guilty for having ignored him. The idea of smacking him upside the head was far from Lyta's mind, and then even further when the soup was brought in and the aroma of it embraced Lyta.

This time, her stomach really did growl audibly. Embarrassed, Lyta tucked her arms around her middle, eyeing the food longingly. Elva continued to speak, and Lyta didn't dare reach for the tantalizing meal, listening to the kind words she spoke. However, the moment she invited Lyta to help herself, Lyta went to eat, slowly putting a spoonful to her mouth, than another, until, once she realized it wouldn't be taken away, she hurried through it, clearing half the bowl before she looked up.
"Are you going to make it go away?" Lyta asked, her stomach so warm and full of the thick soup that she felt the heaviness of it creep through her limbs. "The magic?" Not her magic. She'd never asked for this.

"I hurt my mom." Lyta admitted, explaining why she didn't want it. Not that she felt that was necessary. Who wouldn't want this curse gone? Her eyes welled with fresh tears, now that she had the energy to produce them. "I didn't mean to. And I don't want to hurt anyone else!"

Elva's kind reassurances, even if a little on the firm and wise side, soothed Lyta only a little. Lyta tried to stifle her tears, but as she drank the cocoa at last, and ate a little more of the soup, her exhaustion hammered her down to a blathering mess until she curled on her side and fell fast asleep, her raggedy stuffie cradled against her chest.

---

Ysaryn's eyes roamed the camp, noticing the new numbers, as well as the strange, vacant look in their faces. As Kire approached, Ysaryn froze, hearing that Envy had gone missing. Her fuchsia eyes zeroed in on Kire, studying her troubled expression as the empress explained. That Envy had just vanished inside the forest. No trace. Ysaryn raised her head and sniffed, trying to catch any scent of the Kartaian in the air.
Nothing.
She ignored the portion about Gavin's vision, shifting again when she heard that Ruli was insisting on remaining in the forest, to wait. Or mourn.

"Ransom?" Ysaryn repeated the word, looking between Kire and Narda. Her mind sounds into action, trying to sort out Kire's question. Why Envy? Why not Ruli, whom she'd already appeared to? Had she always wanted Envy? And what if Envy didn't come back?

For minutes, as Daryll explained their own slight victory in finding the young woman, Ysaryn was still, silent, thinking.
"No one returns to Úvano." She said at last. "Ruli to stay. You." She gestured to Kire. "You go through, not say anything, yes?" Ysaryn said, looking thoughtful. "No one to know until," she glanced toward the forest, to where Ruli waited. "just, not yet."

Wanderers

She calmed, watching the healers like a hawk as they set the small gash in her foot. After cleaning it in what was, thankfully, a painless way, they applied salve and wrapped her heel, leaving her alone. As Elva approached and explained more, Lyta hoped her stomach didn't audibly growl at the promise of soup. She swallowed, glancing around the room. "We're in the North?" She asked, twisting to look at the nearest window. She'd never seen snow before. Barely, through the thick panes, she could she the white world beyond.
North! Lyta inhaled, looking around the room again. Sure enough, her clothes were thinner than most of the items worn by the residents. Aside from Ysaryn and the other two.

Lyta's dark gaze fell over them for a time, from the male who kept looking at her oddly, to the unusually tall woman, and the ... other one. "What is she?" She asked quietly.

Hearing the question from Lyta, Ysaryn grinned without turning around. "We let her decide. I think she has had too few deciding, lately." She said to Narda. "I will take both to Kirai, then, and then we'll continue on to Lyta village. Perhaps we take along Envy or Gavin to assist." She offered, figuring Ruli would not leave his bedmate's side.

After a pause, hearing Elva answer Lyta's question and Lyta's stunned response ( "A real elf? Like in the stories?" ) "Wench will give confidence, yes. I hope she chooses this." Ysaryn turned back toward Lyta, amused at the look Lyta now gave her. "We are to leave you here. You rest, yes? And when you're ready, you decide where to go?"
Lyta nodded, slouched against the raised back of the bed like she was having trouble sitting upright; finally comfortable and relaxing. "You'll come back?"
"As often as able." Ysaryn promised. "You in good hands. That one." She pointed to Elva. "She will fight off anything scary with a look. Wyvern eye." Ysaryn gestured to her eye and winked.
Lyta's head shot around to Elva. Wyvern? As in ...?

Ysaryn turned back around, gesturing to the other two to take her hands. "Come. We will go. Back to chieftess."
And a moment later, they were standing in the camp. The shift in temperature bothered Ysaryn more than anything else. Loosing Daryll and Narda's hands, she turned in place, looking around for the others.

Wanderers

Ysaryn kept smiling at Lyta, who seemed to calm at the idea of food. The elf wondered if she had refused food, or had been refused it. A weaker daughter is a more compliant one. Its what they did in the underground system in which she'd been captive. So many of them had been weak.

"What is?" She asked, pointing to the thing Lyta clung to. Her brown eyes went down, her arms shifting so she could peer at its little face.
"M-my dad," Lyta whispered. "he m-made it for me."
Ysaryn only nodded. "Is important, then." She hoped. Again, sentimental items were lost on her.
"What ... uh." Lyta began, looking nervously about the hall.
"Yes?"
"N-nothing." Lyta withdrew again. Ysaryn grinned and straightened, just as the attendants arrived.

"She's skittish." Ysaryn mentioned in elvish, before recalling there was no one here to understand her. She grunted, even as Elva approached and introduced herself.
Sure enough, the idea of having to pick between the infirmary and her own room seemed to pin Lyta into the corner, so the dark haired girl looked infinitely relieved when Elva made the choice for her. "Okay." She said quietly, though she tensed again when the attendants moved forward to help her.
"Aye. I will go find Kir-"
Lyta's sudden strong grip on her wrist stopped Ysaryn. The look of desperation in the girls eyes seemed achingly familiar. "-later." She finished a second later, smiling at Lyta. Her grip lessened, but the elf followed anyway. "And I return to village with you?" She asked, glancing backwards at Narda. "If sleep is still there, I cannot to leave you alone."

In the infirmary, Ysaryn sat beside Lyta's bed, close enough to give the girl some semblance of comfort as the healers circled her. They reached for her foot, and Lyta withdrew it, wide-eyed. In fact everytime the reached for her she shrank away, looking uneasy. "Lyta." Ysaryn cooed. "They are to help. Is safe."
"What if I hurt them?" Lyta asked, tucking her legs to her chest, her feet out of view.
"Only breathe." Ysaryn said. "They treat em-purris." That word sounded too foreign on her tongue. "They have been flung. Swore at. Treated far worse than cut on foot. Yes?" Ysaryn turned her gaze to the nearest apprentice, who nodded with a kind smile. "Only breathe." Ysaryn repeated, looking back to Lyta.

Hesitantly, she extended her leg, offering her left foot, though her hands were drawn uneasily around her face. Even the hot chocolate offered by Elva didn't seem to relax her. Nor did the idea of speaking about herself. As Elva asked about her family, Lyta looked her way, seemingly at a loss for how to answer. "Uh." She stammered, thinking. "My da-er, father. It died with him." Lyta answered, glancing down at the strange stuff-less animal pinned between her stomach and knees. "I don't know ... about relati-ow!" Lyta gasped, drawing her foot back against herself. The instruments on the table shook, a tense silence fell over the group.
"Lyta?" Ysaryn said calmly, watching the girl.
With her hands over her ears, Lyta breathed as instructed, her eyes closed. "I'm sorry." She insisted, curling herself into a ball.
"You are safe. Remind you self of that." Ysaryn said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the bed. "You know I was almost sold. Like you?"
Lyta turned her head to glance at her. "You were?" The instruments ceased their rattling.
"Yes." Ysaryn nodded. "I was captured. In a cell. Starved. Hurt by men." Lyta didn't notice that Ysaryn had gripped her ankle and extended her leg toward the healer again. "Days. Hurt. They cut into my belly, tried to place a curse in my skin. Only I am saved."
"By who?"
"By friend." Ysaryn grinned. "He loosened ties and let me escape. I ran until I find friends. Taken home and now, I will never be taken again." She reached out, settling her hand over Lyta's, her own dark skin eclipsing Lyta's. "You are saved. We are friends. You trust us, yes?"
Lyta's eyes scanned the faces in the room, then on her foot, which was still being tended to, and nearly finished. "Yes." She breathed, inhaling. "But what if i-"
"You will not hurt us." Ysaryn said. "You hurt when scared, this is true? Then tell them when you are scared. Nothing will happen. Not until you are not scared."

Lyta was, at least, quiet for the duration of her check up, the healers explaining each task before and during the action so Lyta was prepared. Ysaryn, confident she was collected, left the bedside to stand near Narda and Daryll, eyeing the male. At least he wasn't ogling her anymore. "I can leave to see Kirai, and then swing by town. At least inform you if sleep still present. Where am I taking you?" She asked to Daryll suddenly, firmly hinting that she would not be leaving him here.

Wanderers

As he spoke about the empress, Lyta looked back to Daryll, suddenly wondering if he could read her mind. Or, as her mother often said, her face was that see-through. Her arm tightened around the thing she held, and when it shifted, Ysaryn caught a glance of an embroidered eye, and realized what it was. A stuffed animal. Possibly elk, with the small antlers it bore, its body little more than a scrap of blanket. It looked old, but well cared for. In a room where her uncontrolled magic had destroyed everything, somehow, this trinket was spared.

"Hm?" Ysaryn turned her head when Narda looked out the window. She stiffened when she saw that everyone had lay down, relieved when she sawa they still breathed.
When Daryll glanced at her thoughtfully, Lyta retreated, her brow knitting. "I'm sorry!" She whined, and a few ceramic pieces on the floor rolled over.
Hearing the sound, Ysaryn turned her head, looking the girl over again. "Lyta, deep air in lungs." She instructed, inhaling to coach. Lyta took a deep breath, hugging her doll. "We do not think you do on purpose. If at all." She passed a smile as Narda left, and the elf followed just to stand in the doorway, wall aware of the awed looked Daryll kept giving the girl. She would feel uneasy, after hearing your parents tried to sell her to some horrible house of pleasure, so she decided not to leave Lyta alone with the male.

"I take all?" Ysaryn asked, tilting her head. "You both seem awake inside here. Can it not reach? Or is Lyta protecting you?" She glanced at the perplexed Lyta again, and winked. Still, taking only Lyta and Daryll to whereever they wanted, then to leave the girl alone with Daryll, who still ogled, didn't sound wise. "Where we go? To Kirai? Tower?" She wondered, approaching Lyta again.
"My magic?" She said, standing before the girl. "I can take people with. You. Like fast travel." The elf grinned, noting the way Lyta's eyes flit to her teeth. "Is cold, an a little ... uh, what is word. Head spin?" Ysaryn drew her fingers in small circles. "But is safe. Just breathe, yes?"

After a bit of deliberation with Narda and Daryll, Ysaryn offered Lyta her hand, insisting that Daryll hold Narda's and not Lyta's. After a bit more coaching to the visibly uneasy girl, they were gone.
Seconds later, they reappeared in Elva's entryway.
Lyta wobbled, and Ysaryn released Narda to help her, muttering to her in elvish to calm her down while the other two went to fetch the mistress of the manor.
"We are here to see Elva." Ysaryn explained. "Elva is healer. Medicine. She will look at you foot, and make sure you are not hurt. And feed you, too. Food here is very good."

Lyta only nodded, pale and speechless, her eyes wide as she took in the new surroundings. (Completely new. Had they not been standing in her bedroom?) She held the thing in her arms closely, finding some level of comfort in it. Being the unsentimental type, Ysaryn didn't understand, but so long as it kept Lyta from flinging dishware, she could do as she pleased for now.

Wanderers

Lyta's eyes followed the kerchief as Daryll set it down and retreated, listening to his offer. She could go anywhere. Anywhere she wanted. Even if the idea terrified her, the choice was there. She had no idea how to live on her own. And really no idea how to live while being some freak who sent things flying.
But she wasn't the only one. Were they gathering all the others? Collecting them? Her brown eyes went from face to face, her brows knit together in horrified concern. Their faces seemed genuine. But that simply meant they were far better at hiding lies than her mother and step-father.

"Lyta!" Speaking of whom, her mother called from downstairs. The pink-haired woman turned her head, her eyes pointing in that direction. "You're staying! You're not going with them!"
"Why, because you not get money for her?" The pink-haired woman shouted back.
"How dare you!" Her step-father snarled.
"Women not for sale!" Her teeth were bared, revealing sharp canines, like cat.
What is she? Lyta wondered.
As her parents muttered and grumbled, the pink-haired one slipped out of the room, standing at the landing to argue with them. Lyta's gaze went to the tall woman, then the man, who had yet to stop staring at her.

"Okay." Lyta said quietly. Somehow hearing her answer, the sharp-toothed one reappeared at the door, glancing at her. "O-Okay, I'll go with you. If you promise," She repeated with emphasis towards Daryll. No lies.
"Do you have to pack?" The strange woman asked, and Lyta looked around her broken room.
I did all this. Lyta remembered. Not really having forgotten, simply in fear. If they put her in front of the Empress, what would happen?
They're going to help you. Lyta inhaled, sighing. They're going to help you control it.

Slowly, she stood up, leaving the kerchief on the ground, Sideways, she moved towards the bed, her limp slight as she dug into the mattress, a tear long ago made so she could hide things rom her parents. What she withdrew was a ragged ... even Ysaryn wasn't sure. It looked similar to a woolen knit sock, though on each end were two thin brown hangings, and at the top something bulbous. She tucked it against herself protectively, then nodded, still looking incredibly pale at the idea.

ℭαrα's Uniquely Titled Art Gαllery

Fantastic artwork!

@Stormflyx

Thank you sincerely!

Hello stranger,

Saw a response to this on the front page so I took a look and wow. Really cool artwork.

Someone on I believe the second page mentioned how cool it was to see you get better as time goes on, and as someone who just saw the stuff you've posted here for the first time all at once I just want to second that. You were good on the first page (Sindri in the OP, the Snow Lady with the Staff, and the Antlers lady) and you got a good bit better as time went on. Those last two. Yes.

The sort of Barbariany lady with muscles and sword. I really like the detail in the little hair decorations and the armors and the shading all around. The last one, with all that great shading and the gradients in the clothing and her eyes and the feather earring and that decorative thing in her hair with the bone thing on it and the embroidery on the cloak and the wings.

I live Tijoon and Tsaruna too. Excellent work. Cheers and Happy New Year!

@BangoSkank

And thank you! As I said to the person who made the initial comment, these are horribly out of order. I randomly picked and chose which ones to bring from the old guild, or from my folders. So they don't really get better or worse, sometimes they are just better or worse, hahaha. But i'm glad to find they're pleasing to look at. I enjoy doing them, and love role playing because of the inspiration it gives me. Almost every one of these was inspired by a story or a partner.
Thank you so much for taking the time to look through them and appreciate them! It means alot!

ℭαrα's Uniquely Titled Art Gαllery

Æthelrün the Witch
Small homage to the great Odin.
Created for Elder Scroll roleplay.

Large Image

Wanderers

Ysaryn made no further attempt to get closer to the girl, putting her hands on her hips to study for now. Narda's words of encouragement made Lyta raise her head, her eyes red with tears she was too exhausted to produce. Her eyes swept around the room when Narda gestured and mentioned her pathetic life, her expression cracking before she hid her face again, cradling her head in her arms.
"No!" Lyta shot her head back up when Narda hinted that she'd meet the Empress. "I can't! I'll ..." She looked around at the pieces of her room that were scattered across the floor. If she hurt the Empress, she'd be executed.

Her gaze, instead, fell on Daryll as he approached, kerchief in hand. Lyta clearly wasn't sure about the gesture, nor his words about this not being a punishment. They wanted to take her away. Even if they promised a home, to help.
Ysaryn, reading the hesitation, unfolded her arms. "I am magic." She offered, waiting until Lyta's eyes shifted to her. "I can move from place to place in instant. May I show you?"
When Lyta nodded, Ysaryn smiled and vanished, drawing a gasp from Lyta, the girl tucking herself back into the corner. "How-" She began to ask, when Ysaryn reappeared, holding a brilliant flower in her hand. Lyta let out a squeak, and the shards on the flor rolled lazily, but not violently. Ysaryn grinned and stepped beside Daryll, kneeling to show the flower to Lyta.
A blue peony. The sweet aroma challenging the reek of fear and sweat in the room. "World is beautiful. But you have to leave room to see it, yes?"

Lyta's expression softened, her eyebrows twisting upward in concern. Her gaze went back to Daryll. His words that they were here to help, that he didn't believe in fate but that somehow they were meant to be here to find her. And the Narda, who said she needed to learn to control whatever was wrong with her.
And the elf, who showed her controlled magic.

"If I want to come home?" She wondered, looking between them.
Ysaryn arched an eyebrow, wondering why anyone would want to return to this. Leaving the flower on the floor before Lyta, Ysaryn stood and wandered back toward Narda. The indifference in her posture made Lyta tense again. "No!" She said shifting enough to unfold herself from the corner. "I'll ... I'll go. But... please." She looked to Daryll, kneeling in front of the flower, but yet to reach for the kerchief he offered. "Promise me you're not going to lock me up."

---

She came back empty handed. Ruli squeezed his fist, feeling the metal of her Ring bite into his skin. Empty handed. Envy was gone. Lost. Taken by the vindictive goddess who had always hated them. "I shouldn't have let him come." Ruli muttered to the ground beneath his knees. Should have known it would be a mistake. To bring Envy here, where he couldn't see, couldn't defend himself.
What could Envy have done? If she had decided to take Ruli instead, what would he have done? Nothing. Nothing could be done.
"I'm not leaving." Ruli admitted, the ache in his chest growing, weighting him down. He extended his arm, palm turned upward to offer her her Ring. "Take it, and go."

Wanderers

Ysaryn tilted her head, listening to the girl within the room as Narda spoke. She hadn't moved from wherever she'd placed herself, but her breathing hadn't calmed, either. A sniffle. What could have been her hands running over her face, by the sudden but temporary muffling of her breathing.
It was Daryll's words that made her hold her breath. Ysaryn tilted her head the other way, making sure the girl was still in the room. But she exhaled noisily, sniffling again.

"It's not safe." Lyta said, far more quietly. "I-I'm not safe."
"We are to take you to safety." Ysaryn reminded her, glancing to Narda. "Narda and Daryll will-"
"No!" Lyta shouted again. "I'm not safe f-for you."
That gave Ysaryn a pause. Her feet planted, she turned to eye the girl's mother and step-father questioningly.
The latter of the two nodded, gesturing to his wife's face. "She hurt her mother."
"She didn't mean it!" Lorraine hissed at her spouse, her dark brown eyes staring up the stairs at the trio that spoke to her only child. "You can't take her over an accident!"

Ignoring the mother's arguing, Ysaryn turned back toward the door. "Lyta?" She called, and she heard a foot scrape against the wooden floor. Like the girl was drawing herself into a corner. "We fight many things. Elf with teeth of shark. Mutant man-dog. Dragon." She glanced to Daryll and shrugged, as if to say 'she won't know that's a lie', before she stepped toward the door, her hand on the knob. "We are not afraid of you. You will not harm us. Okay? We are to come in? Just to make sure you are safe? I know you bleed."
Silence met her. Lyta didn't move, didn't answer. Still breathed, at least. So Ysaryn turned the knob, finding it unlocked, and pushed the door open.

The room was a mess. The window panes were cracked, broken glass, feather, and ceramic covered the floor. The bed was whole, but the mattress askew and partly on the floor, the blankets and pillows in tatters, mingling with what could have been an entire closet on the floor.
And Lyta.
She was tucked into the wall, her small frame tucked as far into the corner as she could get. Her hair was ragged and knotted, her clothing -a plain maroon tunic and tan trousers- were stained in sweat. Her face, half hidden behind her hands, betrayed that she hadn't slept in days, and that she'd been crying. So pale, her large brown eyes wide as she stared at them.
The source of the blood was her foot; having stepped on one of the many broken shards that covered her room, Lyta's left a trail around the room. Every place she'd set her left foot was marked in a smudge of drying blood.

Ysaryn put on what she hoped wouldn't be a terrifying smile for an already terrifying girl who had never seen an elf before. "I am Ysaryn." She greeted, stepping inside.
But the moment she moved, Lyta flinched. "Don't come any-"
Many of the shards on the floor shifted, shooting outward with Lyta as the center point. She screamed as Ysaryn raised her arms to shield her face, twisting to put her back to the onslaught of assailants. It was quick, the pieces falling quickly and lifelessly to the floor once they'd bounced off the wall or the three visitors. Lyta buried her face, sobbing. "I'm sorry..." She choked.
"Whoa." Ysaryn said, unfolding her arms and facing the girl again.

---

Nothing answered.

No voice.

No music.

No rolling, desert dunes.

Nothing.

Until, in Kire's mind, a world gate appeared.
Not quite like the one created by the Gemini and the Empress, but more precise. Ethereal, almost. It opened across the sky, visible through the trees, its mouth pointing downward toward the earth.
From it, poured a dragon.

It was as if it was made of glass, or being looked upon through a reflection. Its image wavered and warped as it dove from the gate and into the sky, its long body twisting and arching as it took in the new surroundings. Its wings sent an inaudible boom through the air as it worked to stay airborne. Its long, reptilian body glittered brilliantly, up until the last scales on its tail. The dragon turned coarse, soaring away and into the empty sky before it was gone from sight. The gate began to close, slowly and gently, without a sound. But before it could close completely, a flare of light fell.

From where the gate, now closed and vanished, the ball of holy, dazzling light fell at a speed dangerously faster than the dragon had soared. Straight towards the earth, until it shifted its shape. Like the dragon had used his wings to fly, so, too, did the flare produce its own. Fiery wings spread, slowing its descent, though it still struggled, like a juvenile bird falling from the nest before it was ready.
As it drew close to the earth, the ground rose to meet it, cradling the falling star to soften its landing, turning itself to a soft, shifting sand that grew until the surrounding area became nothing but an endless sea of golden sands. As the ground settled, the star resting, a wind blew outward, meeting Kire with a breath of hot air that smelled of fire and scorched earth, before the vision left her.

Wanderers

The moment Narda said they were free to go inside, the elf didn't hesitate. She strolled toward the door and pushed it open noisily, one hand on her weapon. They were met with a flustered looking woman with pale brown hair, which was disheveled and sloppily held back in a bun. Her face bore the remnants of a bruise, the yellow-tinged skin around her eyes nearly healed.

"Lyta?" Ysaryn asked, hoping not, but making no assumptions.
"You're here for here?" the woman demanded to know. "But the Madam sent word tha-"
"Lorraine!" the husband came inside after them, running his hands over his balding head to smooth the failing hairs back. "They're the Crown."
Lorraine frowned, looking over Ysaryn curiously before she noticed Narda and Daryll.
"The Crown?" Suddenly, her expression shifted from skepticism to fear. "Why? What has she done?"
"We are to take her." Ysaryn repeated, hand on her blade. "Take us to her."

Though she still looked reluctant, Lorraine turned and led them through the house, up a set of stairs that creaked. As they met the landing, Ysaryn tilted her head. "Ooh." She cooed, grinning wickedly. She could smell it. This Lyta girl's fear and anxiety. While she couldn't scent magic in the same way Kire could, she could smell that something was very different about her. Her seat reeked of it.
"Open." She demanded of Lorraine, pointing to the door.

"No!"
The shout came from within. Ysaryn turned her head to glance at Daryll and Narda, one eyebrow arched.
"I'm not going! You can't mak-Ah!" She'd shouted, and something thumped against the wall. Ysaryn heard the girl move, further from the door, could hear her erratic breathing. "Go away!"
"Something is wrong." Ysaryn said to Narda. "I can smell blood. Not much, but is present." Her brow was furrowed as she listened. Lyta was breathing unevenly, her voice seemed strained. "She is afraid."

---

Ruli barely registered any of it. Barely heard the villagers speaking. Was vaguely aware that Kire set her sword down in front of him. Was aware he'd reached up automatically to take her Ring from her when she removed it from her finger. He heard her promise to bring him back, but the words seemed empty.

He couldn't sense anything. Wondered if she could follow Envy's trail. Tobacco and flowers. That's what she'd said his essence smelled of. But if she couldn't?
Ruli's brain shut down, feeling out the harshest of possibilities. If she couldn't find him. If he was lost. He couldn't begin to hope that she would succeed.