Tackytaff

The Hourglass Order

---

Interlude II
_{Ersand'Enise: Common Dorms | Mudville
Co-Post with @Th3King0fChaos}

It was well past midnight when Silas crept through the third floor window that was his shared dorm room with Desmond. The latter was dead asleep on the bottom bunk of their still holding creation. Despite their efforts, it was still a trial to walk through the room quietly. Between Silas’ hoarding tendencies, Desmond’s constant workshopping, and their combined disregard for cleaning; it had quickly filled again after the gland was removed. A wide display of items scattered without rhyme or reason. It was a vision of chaos even in the tranquil stillness of night. Desmond’s snoring was the only sign of life as Silas approached.

“Desmond” He hissed in a whisper. While he’d yet to get into trouble for being out past curfew, it was because he was careful.

Desmond turned in his bed as he heard the window open, he was a light sleeper and Silas coming in and out every now and again awoke him, yet Desmond never really called him out. Silas does his own things and Desmond did his. As Silas called his name, Desmond opened his eyes and looked towards Silas and said, ”Hmm?”

“You still selling your egg? I got a buyer but we got to go now.” Already he turned away to pick through the other boy’s belongings in search for the object of discussion.

Desmond began getting up as he slowly rubs his neck and sighs as he stretches and says, ”Yeah I am, let me grab it”.

As Desmond goes to the other side of his desk and grabs a thin metal pin, as he pushes it against the bottom of one of the drawers Silas was told to never touch and slowly he shifts it and a pop can be heard as he opens up one of the drawers where it can be seen a thin wire swaying and dangling in the drawer as he grabs the egg out of the large drawer, ”Alright let’s go”.

As once Desmond closes the drawer it sends a kinetic wave through the desk and allows Silas to see there was a large box inside the drawer filled with something he’s unable to fully see but it seemed like it was like sand and shifting.

Silas hopped between feet, all nerves and excitement. “You got something to cover up?” He considered for a moment. “Better not, actually. We’ll be looking shady enough. You can climb down the window with that?” He nodded at the box, but his senses lingered on the shifted energy in the other drawer. A question for another time, he decided as he opened the window to leave the way he came. Using his own Gift to lighten the other boy's load.

Desmond looked towards Silas as he seemed almost too excited to do this as Desmond answers, ”Yeah I can get down with this”.

As he began to follow Silas, not 100% sure where they were going, however with how Silas is acting, this is most likely a shady deal. As Desmond began to climb down with just one hand he seemed quite capable in doing so.

Silas held a finger to his lips as they crossed the Arboretum, showing the quietest path across rocks through the stream where they were least likely to be stumbled upon. It wasn't until they were well into the merchant quarter that he relaxed enough to speak again.

Desmond walked with confidence, he acted as if he was meant to be there, often Desmond knew he could blend in almost anywhere all you have to do is keep your head down and act as if you belong.

"Sorry about all the rush and secrecy. But they've upped the guard like we've never seen before and it’s got people in a panic." Despite the hour there was still a scattering of people milling throughout the squares, scant few wasting a second glance at the pair. The moon had long past and only the lighting of lamps and arcane magic guided their way. Or at least for Desmond. Even without his false sight Silas knew how to navigate the city, especially this close to home.
“The buyer is in Mudville, not too far in, but still not something Zeno’s need to know about if you know what I mean?”

As once they made it to the Merchant district it seemed Silas was calmed enough for him to start speaking again. Desmond listened intently as they moved, as the information of upped guards and watchmen is quite valuable for many reasons, but mostly in case Desmond ever needing to use it. “Yeah I get what you mean. Hmm, I wonder why they are upping guards”.

Desmond was quite curious and worried on why the guards and watchmen seem to have been upped, it must be something outside their scope at the moment, maybe some more dangerous business is at play in this school than he first thought. Desmond just made sure to be prepared for if something goes wrong or if they get spotted.

Silas couldn’t help but snort. “I’m guessing the assassinations might have had something to do with it.” He shook his head mournfully. “But they’re everywhere now. Sticking their noses in anything the least bit shady, however victimless the crime.”

Only when he noticed Ishto, waiting for them across the bridge to the docks, did Silas stop his hurried pace and finally face his companion. The fat red headed boy tapped his foot impatiently, scowling at the scattering of people walking past.

“Alright. Last chance, any questions? Second thoughts?” He asked, side stepping off the main road.

Desmond sighed when the assassinations were brought up again, it was a subject that annoyed him. Not because he lost people to it, it was because he was asked to go and it was where Desmond saw how the school saw the students, they used their labor and promised less than minimal for it. ”Yeah those would do it”

Yet the conversation changed once they made it to their intended area, there they saw a rotund red haired boy it seemed they neared one of Silas’ boys. Desmond looked to Silas as he spoke and said without much of a thought, ”Nope, none. Just ready to off load this”. He said as he followed making sure to keep watch around, as they could be caught up in some simple thing and then get ‘got’ by the many possible watchmen trying to stick their noses in.

Silas relaxed at his answer and grinned “Great. Should be back in bed by dawn.” He turned on his heel and waved to Ishto as they made their way down the bridge.

“Yes I know we’re late but it takes time to lug these things across the city you know?”

Ishto glared at him, looking much more petulant child rather than underworld trader. The small boy walked up to Desmond, craning to see the top of the box he held. “Really gots a dragon in there?”

Silas pulled him back by the collar harshly. “You the one buying Ish? Didn’t think so.”

The pudgy younger boy folded his arms indignantly and fixed his glare on Desmond. “You ain’t a rat?”

Desmond looked towards the egg shaped child as he seemed to almost question Desmond’s motives and if he would rat them out. Desmond snorted as he said looking down onto the red haired boy, “A rat? I mean I’ve been called a rat bastard. But I ain’t here to rat. Just want to off load my shit and be done with it”

“Give it up. He’s fine, and we’ve already been standing here too long.” Silas pointed his head towards the road, urging the others to follow. “Where we going?”

Ishto took them to a tavern near the south side of Mudville, right before the main road turned north again. Even before they entered they could hear the liveliness inside, drinking, cheering, and singing. Silas found himself practically pushing through the crowd of grown adults that made no notice of at least two obvious children in their establishment. At least Desmond didn’t look terribly out of place.

The groups thinned as they made their way past the bar towards the back room. Inside the second door on the left sat two men. Silas didn’t recognise them, but he wasn’t exactly one for faces.

Both stood as the three walked in. Or at least Silas and Desmond did while Ishto stayed in the doorway, only to make himself scarce before the strangers could speak.

“You’ll understand if we forgo introductions.” Said the first. “Might we see the object?”

Desmond’s walk was one that seemed to modify in the places he was, almost like he was changing as they went through. As they pushed through the tavern, Desmond made it easily through and then made it to the back where they would find 2 men. Desmond took notice of them as they spoke as he nodded about forgoing introductions and took the egg out for them to see. Close enough for them to see the egg, but just far enough away so they wouldn’t be able to just to snatch it.

Desmond was wary however, as this could be some elaborate trap to steal the egg from him, or worst, get Desmond for any other crime or things he had done in the past some people would want to get him for.

The man hummed as he inspected the egg from a respectful distance. “You are rather young to have such an artifact?”

Silas didn’t move from his place behind Desmond but felt his muscles tensing. His paranoia told him a trap was waiting here. Surely Moriff knew they’d come and hatched some plan to get the egg and kill him at the same time. The strange buyers muttered together in a language he didn’t understand or recognize.

“We offer thirteen hundred neskals.” The second that had been silent before finally said.

Silas squeezed Desmond's arm as the older boy stepped forward. “They brought at least twice that with them.” The luggage of the buyers was nearly the size of their own. Despite it’s sturdy make of wood, brass, and leather its contents eventually revealed their general shape to him after a moment of focus.

Desmond listened to the men calmly, with them noting his age and then beginning to mutter to each other. Desmond had no clue before giving the offer of thirteen hundred neskals. As Desmond wasn’t going to allow the first price to go as it was, as he stepped forward and spoke out for the first time, as he began to haggle them up starting at almost double to price. As he was going to shock them to then start working down to the price he actually wanted. As they negotiated Desmond was able to get the men to settle just slightly above even what he was aiming for, 1.6k Neskals wasn’t a bad amount as Desmond settled quite happily with a smile. “Thank you for doing business”

The egg was replaced with an impossibly large bag of coins that weighed the box down enough it took both boys and a hefty implementation of the gift, to lift it again.

“You’re a natural,” Silas smiled when they were alone again. “I’d make you buy me a drink in celebration but, people around here can smell money.”

Desmond chuckled as he said, ”I never said this was my first time did I?” Desmond chuckled once more as he said afterward, ”How about I get you something when we get back to the house?”

"A deal then."

A cough came from the doorway, causing Silas to start. But it was only Ishto, apparently having thought enough to return at the most opportune timing. Silas grumbled and dug into his own pocket to produce a single neskal only to fling it at the boy. There was no way he was going to show the daft boy the box’s new contents.

“Not a word of us you hear!” Even as he called after, the boy had run down the hall and back to the worst of the crowds.

“So, back home?” Silas asked, taking one the box’s sides.

“Yeah, don’t wanna get questioned on why we have this much cash on us. I know these kind of people to get something from us if we wait around”.

As once they got home, Desmond gave Silas 40 Neskals and said, ”Thanks for that. I definitely know who to go for when I need to get things out of my hands”.

Silas nodded in response. His arms were sore from carrying their haul across town, and the lack of sleep was beginning to show signs of wear. “Anytime.” He yawned, clumsily lifting himself to the upper bunk. “Goodnight Des.”

The Hourglass Order

---

Interlude I
_{Ersand'Enise: Common Dorms | Mudville
Seen & Mentioned: Desmond Catulus @Th3King0fChaos | Ingrid Penderson @dragonpiece}

And They Were Roommates

When Silas had placed half his pool on the Wyrm’s acid glad, he hadn’t accounted for its size, or smell. The putrid organ had rested upon his bed for the better part of a week, and it was becoming increasingly obvious the boy wasn’t spending his nights there. It was well past time to move it somewhere more practical. Not that there was much space in his shared dorm, cluttered as it was with wyrm scales, dragon eggs, and various other loot from the desert. The personal workshop Desmond was prone to tinkering at during the most inopportune didn’t much help with their poor space management.

“You know…” Silas started, trying to gauge the height of the ceiling. “Those beds line up perfectly.”

Desmond was sitting at the desk as he was working on his weapons. More slowly taking them apart, writing them down as he draws images of them before he slowly puts them back together. As he hummed the sounds were muffled as it was hard to hear lighter sounds coming from him when he is wearing this large black full face leather and steel mask that seemed to have 2 pieces of glass over the eyes with a large protruding piece coming out from the mouth area aking to the ones worn by White Rezaindians caring for the sick and diseased. His design has a few extra fixings making him look like some kind of canine or rat mattering upon which you notice first. When Desmond heard Silas say something he turned his head to him and looked at the beds as he shrugged.

“Yeah I guess they do”, the mask seemed to make anything he said into a much more diluted as it was hard to hear unless Desmond was talking very loud almost akin to yelling.

“So,” Silas continued, enthusiasm carrying him past the other boy's unintelligible and disinterested reply. “If we stacked one on the other, we’d have twice the space for all the scales, eggs, and your…” He waved his hand in the general direction of Desmond’s worktable. “Other activities”

Desmond fully turns and begins to look at the beds and then the ceiling as his mind begins to almost reconstruct the beds and the room. As he notices that they are very nearly perfect. Slightly off by at most a couple of centimetres at worst as he looked and thought that it would be interesting to try. After all, they had almost no room to even walk, let alone work, so Desmond nodded and said in a solid voice so Silas could hear him clearly, “Yeah, that sounds like a pretty solid idea-”

Desmond starts to put his things away as he starts standing up and starts leaping around the clutter that is across their floor as he says, “-I’ll get the wood, you clear the way”

Silas grinned too wide and nodded vigorously in agreement. "I'll just..." . He gently patted the wyrm gland; it responded in turn with a short, low belch that quickly twisted his smile into a grimace. "Get everything else ready."

In the end, it took both boys to pile their collective possessions against the wall until there was enough space to complete their project.

"Yours on top or bottom then?" Silas asked as they took a moment to rest and survey their work.

Desmond looked and almost pissed himself trying to not laugh, it was ugly looking because he used old wood people were throwing away, the beds were off by a few centimeters at most but it made more than enough of a difference as he looked to Silas instincts told him to claim top bunk. As Desmond grabbed the side of the bunk he said, “I want the top bed!”

As the moment he flung himself to the top of the bunk, it began to shake and shift as he sat there and was as still as a board. Yet the moment he heard a creak and a ting like a nail hit the floor, the only things that left Desmond’s mouth was, “ehe~”.

For a brief moment, it was almost possible to believe their creation would hold. But in his not-vision Silas could see the stress of the frame grow until it became too much too quickly and Desmond came with it all to the ground. Silas could only stare in open mouthed horror as their work was effortlessly undone in one impulsive maneuver. He eventually reached down into the rubble for his fellow craftsman's hand to pull him out. "Maybe it’d be best if you took the bottom." He considered for a moment then spoke again "What if we used one of the scales? They're strong right?"

Desmond was laying in the rubble of their creation and felt, humorous. It was funny that this happened, his bed fell, and he was right now looking up to the ceiling and his blind roommate. Desmond laughed as Silas extended his hand as Desmond said while taking the help up, “Yeah I guess that would be smart”

As Desmond got to his feet he heard Silas speak of the scales as he had a smile come to his face. He said while looking at the scales, “Yeah I think that would be perfect”.

Desmond began grabbing one of the wyrm claws and a large wyrm scale as he began setting the scale on his small anvil. After that he positioned the claw on the scale and had Silas hold it. Once in place, Desmond grabbed the warhammer he has in the room when he was testing on these materials, as he shifted the weight in his hands, Desmond said with wicked glee, “Alright let’s make this bed fancy~”.

He raised the hammer above his head and swung it down onto the top of the claw with a thunderous hit. He began to put Kinetic Energy into his hit to begin breaking the scale and putting holes into the scale pieces so they can nail the scale pieces into the wood and make sure that the wood is well secured. This was not an easy task, yet with the combined work of Silas and Desmond they were able to make some rough pieces of scales that were more workable and able to be made to reinforce the bed.

It was slower going the second time around, the more durable materials requiring more patience and care. The noise of their work carried through the building, and more than a few of their fellow students peered in only to quickly shuffle past. Their patience was duly rewarded, Desmond was clearly more comfortable working with the harder material and the result was visually impressive as well as a much more solid structure than their first attempt. Silas barely felt the wobble as he lifted himself to the upper bunk.

His wide grin returned as he leaned down to make his face visible to his bunkmate, albeit upside down. “Well done partner. Now, I don’t suppose you know any chemical mages who’d have use and coin for a slightly used acid gland?”

Desmond laid in bed satisfied with his work, as when he hear his bunkmate lower himself down and speak, Desmond opened his eyes and said, “Oh yeah, I know a few people. One isn’t a chemist from what I know, but she seemed like she really wanted it and she comes from quite a well off family”.

Desmond sat up looking at Silas as he then continued, “You know the tall redhead who was bidding on all the weird organs and shit?".

Silas found the tall woman on his own. Or at least one of the tall women that had been with them in the desert. She hadn't purchased the organ from him; but given her word to broker and even better deal still. It hadn't been the plan. It hadn't been what he wanted. But he was hardly in the same destitute position before. He wouldn't let himself be. The gland hadn't been the only item of worth from the trip to the desert. Next time he'd be prepared.

It was a strange journey to Mudville. While it wasn't exactly forbidden, it was discouraged enough for students to go that Silas took a round about journey past the front docks. Past the outward lustre and shine Ersand'Enise presented to the outside world and visitors, towards the wooden and hastily constructed slum that was home.

A home he was still unwelcome in. He had to keep reminding himself, as he kept to the roofs where he could and through barely passable alleys when he couldn't. Until he found what he was looking for. Or someone close enough to it anyways. A small red-haired boy of about 10, oddly husky for a Mudville child, was leaning out of an alley to peer into the pouches as a woman browsed a stall.

"Ishto!" He called out, causing the boy to freeze and eventually miss his target as the woman pressed onward. The boy's glare qucikly changed to utter surprise as he rushed to meet his friend in the alleyway.

"Silas! What happened? Where -"

"Never-mind all that" Silas waved the boy's introductions away and pulled him further into the alley. "It is good to see you though Ish. Good to see you've managed to remember me in that tiny head of yours." He moved his hand to the boys head, nearly as tall as his own now, and ruffled his hair. "I'm looking for Edri. This was his route, where is he?"

Ishto's face fell. "Dunno. He's gone." Was all he said and slowly began to try turning from Silas.

"Gone?" The boy only shrugged in response as his eyes wandered to passing strangers on the main road. Back to finding a mark. Silas took his shoulder to regain his attention. "People don't just disappear Ish. What. Happened."

"You did." He had Silas there. The small boy's brow furrowed in deep concentration as dots connected in his mind until it broke into an excited grin. "Was Edri with you? Is he coming back too?"

Silas scowled at the boy. Ish had always been slow, but now the boy seemed hardly present- Unable to fully face him and fidgeting endlessly. "Would you think for a minute? Why would I be asking if I knew where he was."

"Oh." Ishto looked to the ground, dejected by the older boy's scorn. But it was soon forgotten and his gazed wandered again to the street traffic passing them. "Old man put me here 'bout a week ago. Asking question always makes him mad."

Silas nodded wordlessly, thinking as his senses worked to watch for anyone keeping too close to them. "You can't tell him you saw me alright? That'd piss him right off too." The idea of Moriff made Silas want to run with all his speed back behind academy walls. Not that what he'd found there had been all that much safer in the end. "I was looking for Edri to help me. Do you think you can help me Ish?"

"Hmmm." Again his attention drifted. Silas sighed.

"I got a dragon egg." It got Ishto to look up at least, even if it wasn't with much excitement.

"Uh-huh. And where did you get a dragon?"

"An egg Ish, keep up. And I got it-" He stopped for a moment and considered trying to convey all that had happened in the past few weeks. No one would possibly believe him. Least of all small, stupid Ishto, who'd never so much as stepped past the docks. "It doesn't matter were it came from. There's still some time before it hatches, and wanted to know if one of you might get a price for me. Well not saying its for me, but-"

"How'd you know it's real?"

"I mean how would you even tell?" He waved his hand in front of his eyes, a visible blur of matter and kinetic movement to Silas' vision.

That was enough to reach the end of his patience. Silas grabbed the smaller boy by the ear and tugged, hard, until he produced a satisfying yelp. "Stop being such an idiot Ishto. You know I see just fine, just like I know it takes more than that to make you cry, so stop doing that with your face."

The boy's crumpled face relaxed into normalcy, and even a full smile and he finally fully turned to Silas. "Really real then?"

"Really real."

Ishto whistled. "I'll ask around. Meet me here in a week okay?"

Silas nodded and took a step backwards as the younger boy bolted away. He sprinted until the top of the steps leading out of the Mudville streets, where he turned back and yelled:

"Glad you're back Si!"

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Tall Trees, Long Shadows II
_{Loriindton
Seen & Mentioned: Talit'yrash'osmax}

It was a common claim among the Yasoi that the only mette'stiroi worth attending was that with too many festivities to attend altogether. Lyen took it upon herself to put the phrase to the test; as well as the hospitality of Loriindton. She moved through the lower levels of the town as a whirlwind, drinking, talking, eating, dancing, flirting, and gambling were all done in equal measure and her spirits and glass were filled with each circling. The people of Loriindton were happy to have her, and before the first evening was over it was as though she'd never left her people at all.

There were stark contrasts between Lyen's old homes and Loriindton; staying in such an isolated place surrounded by humans had affected the Yasoi. It was the oldest curiosities from her collection they were most interested in; those from the western lands and the grand forests of home. Lyen traded them freely, quickly plundering flora and fungi unique the the region. The starkest contrast was how most fell quiet when she spoke of the war, Parrence, or humans at all. Their curiosity on the subject marred by fear and weariness, as they suddenly became disinterested in her offered trade.

Refusing to let it affect her good time, Lyen continued her dance through the nights events; joining the Tiims'archa race, yelling on her own small snail and getting in a mockingly heated argument with Otios as theirs came head to head. But even the chance at winnings couldn't hold her attention for long. It was a snail race after all, and when it took nearly an hour for them to move much past the starting line, she reached for Talit's arm.

"Come add to your Testoi with me suunei, your bravery needs commemorating." Some time and a good deal of convincing later the two Yasoi woman walked out of the tent clutching their shoulders. They binded each-other's skin until the bleeding of their twin fluer-de-lis stopped.

"You saved my life twice." She stated plainly, lifting her gaze to stare intensely in the other woman's eyes, searching for understanding. "Whatever else you become, Talit'yrash'osmax will forever be my friend and kin. Bound to me as I am this mortal world."

The sincere moment passed quickly and was almost forgotten by the time the two parted ways, each notably more intoxicated than when they'd first crossed paths. Talit left to attend her place of honour at the roasting ceremony and Lyen joined the audience in their cheers and laughter at the former's expense.

Only the mez'qadurat lost on her participation. Lyen watched a round from a distance, but decided she'd seen enough fighting and bloodshed for some time, and turned down the offer to enter the ring. Instead opting to join in for another round of dare-squares.

She persisted in her goal throughout; spoking with anyone who would listen about the ongoing war among the humans and in turn eventually began to hear the concerns of the citizens of Lorrindton. Their fear of Perrence armies, masked with mocking scorn, and the bitter resentment that remained from the past king's transgression. In vying to better their opinions, she eventually found herself a regaling the battle of Relouse for the fourth time, and began to draw something of an audience. After a few cheers for her to begin again, Lyen was corralled towards the head table, markedly absent of Talit, to share the story properly.

"Let me tell a much more recent story of our dear Vyshta," she said slowly, giving a mocking crusty to the two present guests of honour as she her cup was filled. "And how the foolish Eskandr walked into the web of the one-legged spider."

More than a few embellishments were made in her telling: Death's Hand was no human but a beast that turned to a monstrous bear at the height of the five moons. Talit had wheepingly vowed to sacrifice her remaining leg if it meant the King's heart would beat again after his fall from the ramparts. For each barbed joked planted there was a grand act of heroism carried out by her staring character, who may has well have single-legged defeated the entire army by the end of the dramatic recounting.

"To your sister," She nodded to Dyric from behind his left, raising her glass in a final toast. "And your great ..." She paused, pretending to count on her fingers, which irked out a few final laughs, "great granddaughter Talit'yrash'osmax. Our lady luck caught between worlds." She placed on hand on Merit's shoulder as she finished and downed the cup to the sound of applause. Only for it to end too soon, and far too abruptly. An earsplitting scream surprised Lyen enough to make her drop her glass, and when her eyes followed those of the stunned crowd she saw the sight causing such sudden change in atmosphere. Merit had slumped forward in her seat, her face white but for the black blood leaking from her mouth, eyes, and nose.

“That maledict! She touched the baroness and this happened.” Where the first words that became clear as all of Lyen's senses swam in disorientation from the shock. This wasn't right, everything had been going so well. Instinctively she pulled away from the swarming arms making to grab her.

"Liar!" She spun, screamed back at Dyric, horrified at his accusation. It did nothing to stop the half dozen hands reaching to grab her. Instinctively, she pulled away and pushed them off.

"Don't be ridiculous- I couldn't - It wasn't me!" Her words fell on deaf ears as the crowd began to stand and screamed out for justice- or out of confusion; Lyen couldn't tell. All she noticed were their faces as every one of her own people turned from her own gaze as she searched the crowd for a sympathetic face.

The Hourglass Order

---

Deserted II
_{Tethered Refuge - Stables
Seen & Mentioned: None}

Knowing the Refuge's lay-out and gift for easy conversation, Felix left with the strange woman to leave Silas alone with Ispiritu and the other horses from the arrival party. He had little experience with animals, particularly ones so large, but they needed little care or attention: Something that should have stood out to the young man, true sight or not, had he the experience to know how a long-ridden horse was meant to look. As it was he was much more preoccupied with the possessions remaining in the saddlebags he'd so carefully removed from each horse. The tetherd boy's presence had stayed his sticky fingers throughout most of the morning's work, but alone with nothing else to do, Silas quickly fell into old habits.

He knew immediately not to touch those belonging to Ispiritu's master, they were as carefully put together as the woman herself had been, and he doubted any tampering would go unnoticed. There were coins and the odd jewel to be pocketed from the items of the lower ranking officers, but eventually Silas couldn't stop himself from approaching to opulently embroidered and jewelled bags of the Duque's eldest.

Even without true sight, the contents were a marvel: A sleek thin dagger reaching half his arm, with a hilt too intricate for him to sense in any way but touch. More money than he'd ever seen in a single Lapis-Lazuli coin, buried among the other wealth of jewels and coins. A long wand studded with so many riches as to make it almost unwieldy heavy. Much as his fingers itched and heart quickened, Silas resisted the urge to bundle the whole lot and make for it. Firstly there was no where to go but the desert, and even if he survived that journey it would only lead him further into the Duque's lands, and even he wouldn't take losing such wealth lightly. Second, and perhaps more importantly, he had a responsibility. It wasn't the same comradery as he'd found with the children in Mudville, but the fellow students at the academy were counting on him to at least not make things horribly worse in their already dire circumstances. With a sigh, Silas pushed the most precious items aside, palming only a handful of lesser-value Neskals before his hand brushed against a final hidden treasure beneath the others. It was simple in comparison; a smooth ivory handle ending in a blunt end etched with a design he couldn't distinguish. A stamp, he realized, thinking back to the warped wooden one used by the Madame to mark payed loans.

There was shouting in a language Silas didn't recognize, causing him to nearly drop the haul in surprise. His excitement had gotten the better of his attention and the Duque's men were closing in. Hurriedly stuffing the seal into his pockets, he gasped and slipped on the side of the stall. On the second attempt he had the wherewithal to employ the Gift, allowing him to steadily scale the walls, then ceiling, even after the doors swung open. Two soldiers walked, continuing their indecipherable argument. Not that Silas was in much position to pay attention. He hardly dared breath and he moved at a snails pace towards the stable's loft. Upon reaching it, he stilled hearing the men end their discussion to beginning to re-saddling and reining the horses. As silently as he could the small boy folded himself up into the loft, tightly packed between bails of hay.

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Tall Trees, Long Shadows I
_{Loriindton Forest - Night's Camp
Seen & Mentioned: Talit'yrash'osmax, Otios'yyia'thala, Eliis'qarmena'luunetar, Calitan’Viszar’Telrontelios}

Lyen's mood continued to improve the closer they came to arriving in Loriindton. The uptick in alcohol consumed by the part had little to no correlation. She was almost certain of it. Their journey had begun quiet, but the announcement of a celebration near their arrival had heightened spirits. At least for the older two Yasoi. Talit sought isolation more often the further they traveled, and it wasn't difficult to presume why. It was neither Lyen's place nor desire to provide comfort; she instead joined Jaxan, their new arrival, in attempting to stir excitement and cheer through games and drink. It was pleasant to have something to occupy the night other than thoughts of Relouse.

She hand't intended on getting drunk herself. At first the wine had been to chase the bitter taste of Thundersludge that lingered on the tongue long after the pride of success had worn off. It wasn't until much later, when they'd begun to move through the forest again at Talit's summons, that she noticed just how affected by it she was. The play-yard tune continued to play through her head, and unprompted further versus spilled from her humming lips as they came upon the other group.


"Niico fayil luun'ithan, eloi juup tuum tiin?" She stayed in the trees above, blinking down at the strange collection of Yasoi below. The exceptionally tall woman commanded inspection first, and Lyen was struck with a memory of the words fantôme rouge. Vague whispers of superstition among the Perrench common-folk. The details remained clouded by a fog of wine she worked to clear with her gift as Talit hobbled towards the strangers leaving Lyen to finish the rhyme on her own:
"Eloi juup tuum tiin? chel o'tuum ithan diidoin."

Once satisfied with her sobriety she joined the others in full view of the group, sill allowing herself to sway slightly as she landed. At eye level they were even more conspicuous; a disfigured dervish, obvious jam'bys addict, and a wraith of a girl easily mistaken for a child accompanied the giant. Lyen made the sign of the pentad following Talit's introduction. Her form could have shamed a blind apostate, but the intended mockery eventually became clear when her left fist opened after signing Dami to make a rude gesture beside the right.

"Word of a mette-stiroi brings all kinds in these strange times."
She said with apparent congeniality, her eyes watching for weapons and spells above an open smile.

summary

- Lyen joins Talit&Co in meeting the (unidentified) Eskandr group

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Interlude
_{Relouse Beach - Grand Armee Camp
Seen & Mentioned: Talit'yrash'osmax}

Lyen hadn't rested. Since the Eskandr had begun their retreat, there had been no end to the need of helping hands. Tasks she'd scoffed at days before became her sole focus; tending to the wounded, except now most were crying out in true desperation and fear of death instead of pain. She quickly fell in with a contingent of nuns and monks of the Dordian order as they worked together to reduce the ever rising casualties. She'd been on the walls when the retreat started and by sunset Lyen had healed her way to the beach-head.

The constant repetitive binding of injuries brought to mind of the monotonous yet unceasing trails Byln had her preform in the beginning of her apprenticeship. Corpses dissolved and tissue regrew under her touch. Eskandr, Perrench, Drugunzean, ally, foe, her exhaustion eventually didn't allow for careful enough inspection of each body she laid hands upon. Each time she closed her eyes Byln's voice rang through her head. Directing her with gentle authority until the healing process became almost autonomous. Bind, soothe, mend, don't waste material.. The last one wasn't of much concern; there was no shortage. For every time she stopped at a gasping, grasping survivor two dozen more corpses lay dead. It was a devastation unlike anything she'd ever seen, and more upsetting than she'd anticipated. But she was old enough to temper and focus her emotions: So she continued to work, movements methodical, mind in a trance, until a hand on her shoulder pulled her from it.

"Didn't think you'd still be here."
The voice was distant as Lyen's eyes immediately focused on the food in its barer hands. Stew and hot bread. She stood too quickly and all the soreness of the day she'd managed to suppress came to her at once: Her skin was taunt and burnt, bones aching, and mind bleary. The bowl was placed into her hands and she began to eat. It was only after her bread was finished that she noticed it was a Dordian monk that was standing before her, an expectant expression on his face.

"Thank you." She said, lowering the bowl.

He brushed her gratitude away "Have you met with Lady Talit?" His tone was that of patient repetition. Lyen shook her head. "There was a meeting among the Yasoi, she was looking for you."

---

It was in the remains of the grand amree camp that she found Talit and was and informed of their new assignment in Loriindton. There was still so much to be done where they already were, healing, repairs, even the forest was a flooded smoldering mess. Not to mention the political turmoil that would come from their scraping victory. The war was only beginning and she was being sent to some outlier Yasoi village. But Talit's face gave waste to any argument Lyen had before she voiced it. The younger Yasoi was tired too, her face far away in other worries. Lyen owed her co-opperation in this at least. Remembrance of the new debt made her grimace. What would it take to replay a life twice over? "I'll be ready by morning."

Her tent was relatively unharmed next to the rest of the destruction Thorunn's rampage had caused the camp. Lyen stepped over the spilled and broken items towards the smallish chest laying beside her bed-mat. Only a few of her jarred preservation pieces had survived; but those would be the easiest to replace in these circumstances anyways. Opening with what little magic her body was still willing to use, the blood-locked seal opened allowing her to lift its lid. Inside lay the most prized items of her small horde; a forced compromise for any traveling Yasoi. What started as a quick inspection to start the packing process quickly became an exercise of indulgence in happy memories. Even her exhaustion was forgotten, and the endless death that had hung so heavy all day seemed miles away. Each item was returned to the chest along with whatever surviving items in the tent fit. After re-applying the blood-seal she fell to the mat she'd always found painfully uncomfortable, and was asleep before her head touched the pillow.

summary

- the battle ends
- Lyen does some healing and clean-up before leaving for Loriindton

The Hourglass Order

---

Deserted I
_{Ersand'Enise / Tethered Refuge
Seen & Mentioned: Casii, Vieri, Kaspar, Zarina, Ayla, Yalen}

For the first week of his enrollment, Silas had made a point to avoid his literacy studies. The language course professor along with other teachers constantly preaching of 'supplemental learning' through reading had done their best, but he remained unconvinced. He wanted to learn magic, not waste time learning a skill he would only ever be middling with. It had all changed rather quickly when he received a package in the mail for the first time in his life.

"For you Rieger, from Mudville." Were all the words it came with. They'd been enough. The square envelope hadn't left his pocket since. Unopened, but already creased and folded from his hands retracing the invisible, indecipherable letters that made up his name.

So he returned to the library for the first time since his enrollment, for the first time as a student rather than fugitive, and studied. Papers had been specially prepared, the Avincian alphabet and basic phrases written out in metallic ink. With a magnet placed behind the page, the letters sparked with energy and became tangible to Silas' senses. From this he would memorize the shape before trying to hastily copy it himself. The remains of a half dozen attempts were scattered across the table. It was a frustrating process, the ink dried too quickly and the shapes never stayed in mind long enough. Worse still, he had no way of knowing if he was making any progress. He'd been gifted no with special ink to write with, and had to make do with a singular candle centered on the desk. Supposedly the ink should've activated under a gentle light or heat, but Silas had so far succeeded only in burning through two sheets.

He lifted a third to the flame, resting his head in his spare hand as he watched the energy engulf and consume his work. Just as it began to reach his fingers, he drew from the heat. The sparks traveled up his arm and into his blood until all that remained outside was a thin line of heat he knew to be smoke coming from the extinguished wick. Oblivious that the upper floors of the grand library, containing the academy's oldest and dustiest tomes might not have been the best place to practice arcane magic, he focused on the candle willing it to light

Casii/Vieri

Whatever Silas had planned to do next, it would be clearly interrupted by a rapping fist on the door to his dark room. ”Hey! Whadda’ doing in there? Pretty sure book burnin’ is against the rules. Came a loud voice came on the other side to match the pounding. It was the only warning he’d get before the pounding ceased and the door flung open.

Standing at the doorway was a white-haired Yasoi, dressed in a red tunic with brown patterned trousers that looked a size too big for her small frame. Her furrowed eyebrows indicated she was obviously annoyed, having to bear the smell of smoke for the past ten minutes. Although her expression, she thought, would be missed with someone who was blindfold. Annoyance lead to confusion as she considered the delinquent. ”Err… wait a minute. You ain’t able to see. Why are you in a library?”

The interruption startled Silas into knocking over the stubbornly-unlit candle as he rose with a start, heat creeping to his cheeks at being caught mid-distraction. He kept his face towards the ground, expecting an angry teacher on the other side.
"Sorry I was-" He didn't get to finish before the woman continued speaking, nearly pushing past him to get into the room. Her height was the only distinguishable feature to Silas' limited sight, but it along with her peculiar accent was enough to pique his curiosity.

"I can see." He folded his arms and looked to the desk of indistinguishable energies. "Mostly." He corrected, before sighing and looking at his guest again.
"I take it you're new too? Silas Rieger, resident Power-Gazer." He offered his hand in greeting.

Casii watched, arching an eyebrow in disbelief at his response. She looked intently at him, trying to read what his game was before shooting a glance to the nearby knocked over candle. ”Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound convinced as she leaned against the doorframe and considered his introduction. Crossing her arms, she let his offered hand hang in the air.

”Power..gazer?” She didn’t know that last word. From the context, it seemed like it was important relating to him. Is that what he calls being blind? ”Maybe I’m new. Doesn’t matter. I know well enough to not be messin’ ‘round with candles’n books. What are you doin’ here anyway? If you can see, that is.”

"Seeing probably wasn't the right word" He acquiesced and thought back to the way his vision was explained to him, first by Moriff, then Giarrone.

"My eyes don't sense light the way yours do, just energy. It makes reading pretty much impossible except-" He reached for the magnet and training papers from the table "Are you familiar with magnetic magic?"

Seeing definitely wasn’t the right word. He had some cloth around his eyes. He wasn’t seeing anything, Casii thought. Then he explained some magic about seeing energy and for a moment the yasoi thought about what energy looks like? Colors? Pictures? It didn’t make sense.

”Yeah. I know magnetic magic. I’m a Yasoi. We know magic.” This guy didn’t seem real. Reads in the dark, talks about seeing energy and now is starting on asking if she knew what magnetic magic was. To a Yasoi! She used her tongue to push the Jamb’ysp from her left cheek to her right cheek, procuring a small cup from her pocket to spit a darkened glomp of spit into. ”You bored enough to want to learn how to read without seein’ then? Or can you not actually see?” She asked but quickly decided she didn’t care to hear the answer. ”Show me.” She suddenly commanded, stepping forward and closing the door behind her.

"You're Yasoi?" He said, equal parts excitement and surprise. "Sorry but I've only met a few of your kind before, and facial features are lost to me" He waved a hand in front of his blindfold.

`
Casii leaned against the door in continued observation, quietly raising her cup and spitting in it once more. If he had to be told she was a Yasoi then he really couldn’t see. ”Okay so you can’t see.”

Silas shook his head “I can’t see light” He handed her the papers, and held the magnet beneath them. "There are flecks of iron in the ink." He explained. "You should be able to sense it, but that's how I see things, sensing the energies and putting a shape to them. It’s how I can see you. Your heartbeat, arteries, and even the electric patterns in your head." He smiled coyly at her. “This affliction isn’t common among your people?”

Casii opened her mouth to respond but she’d find herself interrupted by a rap on the door. Another Yanii was being drawn in from the smell of smoke, no doubt. The newcomer looked far too happy if that were the case and sure enough, the new Yanii cried out in delight at seeing her brother?

“There you are brother!” Vieri threw up their arms and then immediately pulled them back, wincing. They sidestepped into the room and pushed the door carefully shut with a heel, set down their satchel, “I am hoping I don’t get you kicked out for being so loud, but lucky we are up in the rafters, ey? Only the spiders to hear. I would almost think you were trying to hid.”

Cinnamon started to overpower the smells of old paper, and, was that… orange?

Vieri turned their smile to Casii, “I am Vieri, sister, you are a friend of Silas?” A tilt of the head, “You have a face that would be fun to paint. Nice colours. Cute nose.”

She was loud. At least she smelled nice. The only Yasoi in this cramped room made space by hopping her bum on top of the desk Silas was using, sitting on the edge and letting her feet kick idly. The newcomer came in fast, spattering off a lot of things prompting Casii to take in as she worked the Jamb’ysp in her mouth a little with her tongue. Amusing up until the nose comment. Folding her amusement into a glare, she considered if that was a slight against it. Probably but better to be diplomatic for now.

”Yer a spring climber, Yanii. Came to lecture your … brother about burning books?” She slurred with a mouthful, shooting Silas a scowl. She wasn’t going to let him live down the smoke thing quite yet. ”Yer too late then. I was already lecturin’.”

Casii flicked her head upwards before continuing, ignoring Vieri’s babble at her. ”You’n Power Burner here, related? Yer ain’t lookin’ too alike. That a Yanii thing?”

Vieri's arrival came as a whirlwind, assaulting Silas' heightened remaining senses. Loud and always sparkling with energy he nearly dropped his papers at their entrance, and scrambled to save what remained of his efforts as the Yasoi sat on them.

"If I'm hiding I'm doing a poor job." He complained, looking between the two intruders before resting his gaze on the Yasoi and replying dryly; "The resemblance is all in the eyes."

“And in our love of burning books, ey?”

His patience has worn thin first trying to explain the nature of his abilities to the Yasoi, and now with a second interruption.
"Vieri, this is the new Yasoi, too mysterious to share even her name; though I'm sure you'll manage."

“I do like them mysterious, but it’s another name I am after. I wonder, sister, could you help? This note came from a stupid bird,” they knelt down besides their satchel, rummaged, stood back up with a slip of parchment. “I can read our names, but not the last, I think it is Yasoi, no?”

Vieri held the note out to Casii. On it were three lines. Silas Rieger. Vieri Zimbasu. And…

Casii’s eyes narrowed as the pair before her exchanged before Vieri began to inquire about a name. She peered over and instantly recognized the horrid Yanii way of writing her name. Casii’fyret’alan. Silly Yaniis couldn’t even figure out how to read her name? Casii chuckled in her own amusement.

”Yea that’s Yasoi. That’s me. Casii.” She mused but soon realized someone had written her name on a paper with these two. ”Hey! Why you got my name like that?”

“Of course. If it was anyone other than Hugo, I might have thought it a coincidence, finding you here. I suppose he actually has a use for us, and you, now,” then, finding the humour: “Not bad, ey brother?”

“Or we’re already in trouble.” He peered at the scrap of paper, unable to see anything on it at all. ”Haven’t burned anything down yet have you?”

“Not yet. I suppose the Forked Tower awaits, no?”

Casii considered for a moment. ”I ain’t done nothin’ to be in trouble’n book burner just started so I reckon its somethin’ else. Suppose we should go see.”

Silas nodded in agreement and held open the door for his classmates and they funneled into the hallway.

---

It was Silas' first time outside of Ersand'Enise. The journey had been largely underwhelming; standing in Hugo's office one moment and the Refuge the next had a minimizing effect on the amount of distance they'd traveled. The heat served as an immediate reminder. Arcane energy permeating the air, paired with the ever shifting sands underfoot wreaked havoc on Silas's energy senses. The Refuge was a place of chaos, he'd decided, even before learning the details of the approaching army and sand wyrm.

There wasn't much time for questions or more than the briefest introductions before the new arrivals were put to work helping with the preparations. Lacking training of any level, Silas was grouped with the other children of the refuge; given menial chores and attending the 'classes' put on by his fellow students to help hone his minimal skills. It didn't take long to realize how woefully undermanned, under-powered, and unprepared they were. Whenever he wasn't working, Silas spent his first twenty-four hours at the refuge ascertaining the personalities of his classmates.

Kaspar

On the surface Kaspar was the exact sort of high-born Silas had worked so hard to avoid since arriving at Ersand’Enise: Somber, aloof, and generally removed from the world immediately around him. So of course it happened that the Helbanese noble was tasked with showing him the way to his room.

While they were still at the entrance of the hallway, before the uncomfortable silence even had time to set in, Silas was desperate to end it; “So, how did you manage to kill a sand wyrm?”

Kaspar was not overly familiar with Silas—though it was not unusual, given the noble’s social skills. Nevertheless, he’d run out of time to be awkward and uncomfortable around strangers. Though he would’ve been fine with silence, he would not reject an attempt at conversation.

The question did bring a stutter to his step, though, as red eyes shot toward the powergazer. He was silent for a moment, coaching most of the surprise out of his voice as he responded, “We… Haven’t, yet. We diverted it with noise and movement, and it’s not approach the Refuge yet, but… It’s still out there.” He watched his fellow student carefully, wondering how little information any of them had been given before Hugo sent them here.

"Its the same one?" Silas stopped mid-step in surprise, only to double his pace to catch up to the taller boy once he moved again. "Is there a reason it keeps coming back?"

Kaspar inhaled steadily at Silas’s response, and he tossed the information around in his mind, figuring out how best to lay it out. Deciding on a straightforward approach, he finally answered, “The first night, it was drawn in by prey. The next day, it consumed an aberration and was driven mad.”

Silas let a silence fall over them as they turned two corners. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he feared; only solemn. But that was likely his own pessimism. "What do you take our chances of killing it this time?"

Kaspar thought on it for a moment as the silence settled between them again. Finally, voice more confident than one might expect, he offered, ”We’re prepared this time. We didn’t know to expect it the first time, but now we have numbers, training, and a chance to strategize.”

"Our numbers consisting of; a handful of students, a dozen half-trained tethered, and maybe dumb luck?" Silas shook his head. "We're going to lose people, and Hugo didn't send so much as a Zeno, doesn't that bother you?"

Kaspar was silent for a few moments. With a soft voice he responded, “It does. We’re working our hardest to make sure we don’t lose any more, but… We already have. And you’re right. It’s very likely we’ll lose more. But the only way we can confront Hugo is by making it back.” The ending note was one of resolve—Kaspar had felt the terror of being near this beast, and he knew the Warden’s original plan. But Hugo wasn’t going to rescue them—so they might as well live long enough to make it his problem. “This is you."

They'd stopped at a door, to Silas indistinguishable from any of the others they'd passed. With a final nod to each-other the boys separated in slightly worse spirits than before.

Ayla

Ayla was nothing and everything a noble was meant to be. Like a princess from a story of old, the children congregated around her at any given opportunity, and were never turned away regardless of how busy the older girl was. She was open, kind, and ready with a smile despite their hapless circumstances. Silas half expected her to charm birds from the sky when she played her flute in a demonstration of sonic force magic. He stayed behind after her lesson, sticking to the walls until the rest of the room had emptied.

“Do you have a moment, Lady Arslan?”

Ayla smiled warmly as the boy approached her, not having a real moment to properly greet him since his arrival to the refúgio, “Si, it is a pleasure to be formally acquainted.” She moves her hands over Silas’ own, taking them in a warm gesture. “How may one be of help?”.

"Thanks" He said, pulling back his hand to fold his arms across his chest "It's about the Wyrm, I hear you were the one who came up with the plan last time."

Ayla nods with a smile, expanding upon it for her new friend, “Dança-Alsahra, or Desert-Dancer in Avincian, it is a Torragonese children's’ game where you dance and when the Wyrm comes, you got to stay still, or it eats you. This was the inspiration for my idea. Was there more you wanted to know?”

"What difference it makes now that it's eaten an aberration." He returned her smile sheepishly before continuing "I don't have any experience with them but would it change the wyrm’s instincts so much we couldn't use a similar trick?"

Ayla takes a moment to consider the words, trying to describe it for a boy. “In simple terms… have you seen how alcohol changes people? Some become happy drunks, others become sad, and some become very angry as if in a frenzy. The Wyrm has lost its senses and is currently in a frenzy.”, she shakes her head side-to-side. “The trick may work again, may not, but regardless, it will not give up its chase. Would only buy time. There isn’t a way to sober it up either that is known to me.”

Silas nodded along, doing his best to conceal how helpless he felt about the situation; two steps behind everyone else with no way to keep up or even be of much use with his meager Gift. "You don't find it strange that Hugo only sent us as reinforcements then?"

“Hugo has sent enough”, Ayla takes hold of Silas’ hands again, holding them up. “Imagine the Wyrm is a cart. You are not strong enough to push it along yourself.”, she moves her hands into his, squeezing upon them. “But by working together? We can push that thing along. Here in the Refúgio, we have a lot of hands. We need people who can help direct and teach those hands what to do. Now you understand?” She offers him a wide smile, “Now these hands are many!”, she releases the hands and claps them together.

Silas stared at the shape of his hands after she dropped them. He appreciated the spirit of her words, but when it came down to it, they were children teaching children to fight a monster few trained warriors would survive in a non-crazed state. "Thank you, Ayla. I hope to lighten the load however I can." His smile widened enough to show teeth as he forced a more positive tone; "And when it's dead we'll turn the damn thing into a courtyard statue in honour of your quick thinking."

Ayla tilts her head to the side with the last comment, offering a light smile. “We should dedicate it to all who took part and the lives of those we have lost. Dedicate it to a bright future, a sign of the challenges that had to be overcome.”, she seems to instinctively look towards the direction of the courtyard with the comment. “It is easy to slip into darker thoughts, as my Da used to say, being brave is about standing up when you have to.”

Silas thought it better to not to bring up that many of their allies couldn't stand. It wasn't what she had meant after all, though the vulnerability of the refuge's habitants still had him questioning their chances. But that was his own cynicism; it was better to put faith in those who had already dealt with the wyrm before. "You've got everyone here united and doing everything they can." He finally said, trying to think of a single positive thing to say about their hopeless circumstance. "I'm sure he'd be proud."

“You do like to flatter, Mister…”, she notices that the boy hasn’t shared his own name with her, and leaves an adequate prompt for him to provide it, encouraging it. “Reframing problems into solutions is always helpful. If they focus on what the problem is, they grow withdrawn, hide away, become demotivated. If we tell people what we can do, they become motivated, and active. The latter has a lot more success.”

"Rieger" He said with some hesitancy. It still felt strange coming from his mouth, his previous life had needed only one name. He kept his face towards the courtyard but kept close sense of Ayla's reaction, prepared to be disillusioned of her seemingly genuine kindness when she failed to recognize his name.
"I won't keep you any longer, but thanks for speaking with me."

Ayla shakes her head, as she directs the boy back towards her. “We are amiss. Let’s start again.”, she instinctively moves her hands down to pat them upon her clothes before she brings them back up again, “Hello, my name is Ayla Arslan, my friends can call me Ayla. Pleased to meet you. To whom do we speak?”, she takes Silas’s hand to shake upon it, seeming intent on wanting to have introductions in order before they depart.

Silas grinned at her, quickly disarmed of his fears by her continued enthusiasm. "Silas Rieger," He took her hand "I think I'm to be in your apprentice group, with Zeno Zemana? We'll have a lot to talk about." His head tilted to one side when their hands parted again, and his smile became more pursed. "After the wyrm obviously."

Zarina

The Vangrish girl was to be avoided. Silas had decided that early, when he’d heard her speak during the debrief. She was confidence and shadows, quick wit with an underlying earnesty that he wasn’t sure what to make of. Going with his instincts to never trust a merchant, he’d purposefully awoken early to complete his morning task of tending to the prisoners in the Red Tower alone rather than in her company as originally planned.

It was upon his return to the entrance that he became overwhelmed by the smell of coffee; following it lead him to Zarina, standing by a window steaming mug in one hand, a book in the other. He considered leaving, but even as the thought crossed his mind he knew it was too late, and that his presence had been noticed.

“Goodmorning,” He said, not quite comfortable enough to enter the room. “Did I miss breakfast?” He’d risen and left before the sun had risen, and hadn’t expected anyone else up for another hour at least.

It was hard to find a good book around the refuge- the best one could find was a bestiary or detailed notes in the rangers’ quarters. What Zarina had in her hand was Vice-Warden Adela’s records. A lot of payroll management and details involving the logistics of supplying the Refuge. Her mind kept busy, but was eventually distracted by a set of footsteps passing under the window she had been leaning against to take in some of the Torragonese air.

”Silas, was it?” she inquired with her usual Virangish accent. The book was snapped shut and Zarina conferred a half-lidded but hawkish gaze toward the young teen, ”If you’re hungry, I have unfinished sausages and churros-” she turns her body to be perpendicular to the window- essentially inviting him in, ”we had a job this morning, yeah? Prisoner duty? Though I guess there’s no hurry.”

When she didn't immediately snap at him, Silas relaxed enough to enter the room, but did little more than eye her plate of food. "Just finished taking care of them actually-" His brow furrowed behind the blindfold "I guess there wasn't any alternative to keeping them down there?" One didn't need to be particularly astute to know something more had happened prior to his arrival. Something the others in the group had managed to keep tight lipped about, and if Silas was going to take part in any more criminal activity he'd at least like to know why.

The plate of now cold food was on a small desk a meter away from her recently straightened bed. Zarina kept herself by the windowsill as she watched the blindfolded youth absorb his surroundings, ”Maybe there was. Could’ve killed them. Could’ve just let them all leave. Safe. Risky.” she loosely held her mug with a couple of her fingers, letting it dangle under her hand would make the more neurotic of people a tad nervous, ”This was the safest option for everyone. Although they’re still dangerous, Silas.”

The Virangish took a sip from her still warm coffee and made her way to the large mirror opposite of her temporary bed. She focused on her eyes and what little makeup she had left, ”There’s a reason why they send two of us down there. Wait for me next time, yeah?” her voice had remained modulated the whole time, like nothing could quite frustrate her this morning. Or maybe she was just happy to not have to work, ”Are you gonna eat that?” she turned to face her guest, her book posed on the adjacent drawer and her idle hand over her hip.

Silas watched the teitering mug, its slow arc of kinetic energy as heat continued to radiate off. "Any more dangerous than a crazed wyrm?" Zarina quickly replied to the question, ”Think more the danger they pose plus the Wyrm, plus the not-so-jolly duke.” she then sipped from her mug again.

He reached for the plate of food and took one of the cooled sausaged from it before passing it off to Zarina."I'm not suggesting to let them go- but at the least we could use some more adults trained in the gift when the time comes?"

”Manpower’s good, sure.” she nodded but gestured in dismissal when offered the meat. There was a reason it was left cold, ”But these guys sent us to die to eliminate the aberration. They’re not exactly the sort I’d invite to the Carnival with the family.” she paused and narrowed her eyes toward where Silas’ own would be, ”Do you see me, by the way? With hearing or maybe the bandana’s see-through? Met a guy once who saw with sound …”

"Something like that." He bit into the sausage and chewed slowly, reluctant to go through the same explanation he felt he'd given a hundred times. But she'd been more forthcoming than expected, and he was beginning to feel guilty for avoiding her. "I sense energy. Your shape, movements I can see. But details; faces, writing..." He shrugged, motioning his head towards the space she'd placed her book. "Well, some day. Or so I'm told."

Zarina nodded, looking content with the answer given to her, ”Cool.” she responded as if she were a child that had just seen a big lizard for the first time, ”So you can’t quite tell if I’m smiling or frowning. But I guess you can see how I move and hear my voice.” she gestured to the plate, ”Try the churro, especially with the cream.”

The sausage finished, Silas wiped the oils from his fingers on the hem of his sleeve. "I'm sorry your sister had to leave, she seemed-" There was a pointent silence while Silas desperately searched for a neutral word to describe the witch he'd met for mere moments. "Interesting."

The Virangish went from relatively tame and content with her guest to tense and stiff rather quickly at the mention of her sister. Silas could probably hear and even feel it– her heart rate increased a little and her body heat went up a couple of increments. She inhaled loudly ”Yeah. Well. She’s always had her way of doing things.” she kept a tone in an attempt to hide how brittle her voice had gotten. A long sigh followed shortly after to vent that initial inhale, ”You’ll see her again, I’m sure. She likes unique cases like you. That is if we survive.”

It was oddly reassuring to hear someone else give voice to the thought that they may not live through the wyrm attack. While he appreciated the optimism of others, his own mind was full of doubts and questions. He considered sharing them with the Vangrish girl, but the mere mention of her sister seemed to have upset her enough already. It was always a careful balance, being unable to see what he should, while what was meant to be hidden lay clearly before him. Silas averted his gaze to the window and rising sun.

"I'd better get to doing something productive to increase our odds." He offered a smile as he moved to leave the room. "Thanks for breakfast, and the talk."

Zarina nodded, but raised her hand to get Silas to stop for a moment, ”Patience, fireball.” she scurried over to her bag she had left by her bed and after a bit of rummaging, she’d take out a gourd filled with still fresh water. The young lad eager to get things done was offered the container, ”The heat can even make the toughest guys faint. Take a good swig every hour or so, yeah?” but before he could take it, she pulled it away for a brief moment, ”It comes back to my room in the evening, alright?”

Yalen

In Yalen, Silas saw what his life may have looked like. His mother had been pressured to give him to the church both when he was born and again when his eyes began to deteriorate. The clergy boy seemed happy enough with his lot; devout and honest to the point he seemed truly incapable of any sort of subterfuge. A relief in comparison to some of the others in their group. It was still Silas’ first night at the refuge when Yalen volunteered to help clean up after the children’s dinner when the former had drawn the short straw for the chore.

”Thank you” Silas said as he started to collect plates. ”But despite whatever Cassi told you I can see what I’m doing.”

Yalen gave Silas a sunny smile and continued to scrub the table’s surface with a moist cloth.

Since you’re here in this dangerous place, I assumed you could take care of yourself. I wasn’t trying to undermine your autonomy.”

"I didn't-" Silas stopped himself short before his foot got permanently stuck in his mouth. Of course he'd be so careless speaking to the boy fighting his own body to stay upright each day. But that was another truth he likely wasn't meant to see, so after muttering a second thanks he moved to the other side of the dinning hall to continue the chore in silence.

tl;dr

Silas meets people.

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Defense Of Relouse IV
_{In the Witch Wood - St. DeFrois Rock
Seen & Mentioned: Talit'yrash'osmax, Kol; Death's Hand, Vali Twice-Born}

Lyen's viens burned as she ran. The mana curse in her blood practically making her body hum with energy of the gift. And it was only a fraction of the Lady Talit's power that was shared between them. She looked back at the younger Yasoi, following in her awkward, yet efficient, fashion once more before leaving the Witch Woods.

Use of the gift and the Æresvaktr's blood led them towards the city walls. The battlefield between the city and woods was chaos, but it all seemed to melt away from Lyen's vision; except the great towering stone of St. Defrois Rock: The only structure in the area that would at conceal such a beast as Death's Hand. Only thought of vengeance and absolution for her earlier failure filled Lyen's mind as she made for he target, beginning to draw from the stone, weakening it in hope of crushing whoever stood on the other side

For the second time in the night she found two Eskandr where she'd only expected one. Even before he loosed his arrow she screamed in a mixture of pain and frustration as his arrow sunk into her left shoulder: Where did they keep coming from? She pressed on-wards faster, focusing her attacks on the archer as pieces of stone continued to rain upon him. Too caught up in anger she failed to notice Kol's trajectory and was saved only by Talit's quick reaction and strong push of force magic.

Almost stumbling, Lyen caught herself by grabbing onto each of the large Eskandr's arms while he was staggered and attempted to imbue him with curses. But there was no purchase, his Gift brushed hers aside as thought she were still a child novice.

He taunted her in words she didn't fully understand or care to listen too. She only gripped tighter as he attempted to shake her off. Her focus soon paid off; a gap in his resistance. She drew from her own mana and that of her 5th wheel ally, and the fire trapped in her veins seeped into his; turning the Æresvaktr's own essence against him. He could hold it off for now; but it would build and eventually the blood would begin to corrode his veins. "Just die" she murmured.

The gods heard her arrogance, and delivered their punishment quickly and harshly through her enemy's fist. A half scream left her lips as she felt her organs realign themselves into the wrong places under the force. Her back slammed the ground hard, where the remaining momentum of the carried her further still. Reflexively, Lyen began to draw. There was no shortage of human bodies north of the city, but even as she began to convert the material her attacker approached to finish her off. She clumsily tried to crawl backwards on one arm, the other still clutching the impacted area of her stomach.

Her call for Talit came out as little more than a desperate gargled cry as blood flooded her throat. None the less, the Baroness arrived, a fury of magic and metal pushing the Æresvaktr away and giving Lyen space and time to heal and escape.

"I smell you, southern rat" Murmured in Yasoi as she turned to face the footsteps taking the same path around the stone. The smaller Eskandr had followed, having freed himself from Talit. She stomped her foot and the ground in-front of her gave way, sinking under the archer's feet as he perused, staggering as he loosed an arrow. Lyen's confidence grew, this was how it was meant to go. In two strides she walked to him and laid her hands to begin casting an internal essence spell. He countered before her gift could take hold, using force to repel her backwards weakly. But Lyen for the first time in the night had found that singular focus craved by all Yasoi, and was not about to let her prey slip away so easily. She showered him again with stones before he could think of drawing another arrow.

When she was was on him again Vali was bloodied and haggard, swinging with his sword so blindly she barely had to move of its way. "You shouldn't have shot me." She said in Drugunzean and placed a hand on his blood soaked face. Her Gift began to sink into him, adjusting his internal essence until she could feel him grow weary am limp. She hadn't finished before the first horn sounded. It was too early, and she was too close to victory- Then a second sounded, shorter than the first and immediately followed by a third. The call for retreat was unmistakable. Lyen cursed in Yasoi before leaning in close to the Eskandr.

"Stay away, Little Eskandr; next time I won't be so generous." She hissed by his ear in barely audible Drugenzean before letting him crumple to the ground.

The hole's from her drawing had created a easily navigable path to the summit of DeFrois' rock where the Baroness of Loriindton awaited her.

"Worry about miking it yourself, Talit'Yrash" Lyen taunted the one-legged Yasoi with a wink and gleeful smile - once again brimming with confidence after her decided victory. She leapt from the stone, mimicking the younger woman's own method of casting crude metal chains to pull her the remainder of the way to the top of the city walls.

summary

- The Yasoi heal from previous round, Lyen gives a curse to herself and Talit
- L&T Pursue Kol, and find him with Vali at DeFrois Rock
- They fight, until the horns blow, then leap over the city wall.

O R I F L A M M E

Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc

---

Defense Of Relouse III
_{In the Witch Wood
Seen & Mentioned: Otios'yyia'thala, Talit'yrash'osmax, Kol Death's Hand, and Horik the Gold}

Even as she neared the treeline of the Witch Wood Lyen could hear the battle and destruction raging to the south: The city proper was being attacked. There was little point in fretting over her chosen path; all that was left was to see it through. The heartbeat of the marked Yasoi she sought had long since stopped, but she could still use the remainder of her spell to find his body. She could ensure he would be the last at least.

Her horse reared unexpectedly, knocking Lyen from her mount. She cursed in her native tongue as she righted her self to view the source of the beast's fear: Eskandr were emerging from the forest. It was easy enough to differentiate the southerners with their ranger gear in comparison to the cumbersome armor donned by the Perrench.

The horse squealed and screamed as Lyen began to draw. "Exiran keep you" was all she said in way of prayer and apology as it crumpled to the ground in silence, just as the enemy forces came upon her, a dozen screaming savages seeking her blood. The remaining Yasoi had taken their toll on them she noted; there were too few bleeding from too many places. Axes raised around her and a single arrow was loosed before Lyen unleashed her magic. A torrent a blood fell upon her enemies. Warm and sticky in comparison to rain soaking everything else in their surroundings, the Eskandr quieted for a moment in confusion before the caustic properties reached the surface of their skin and the screaming began again; the agonizing cries of burning men. Lyen left them as she continued her journey on foot.

She found the body with little effort, a pale figure sinking into the mud. He'd been trying to escape the forest she surmised. Rain had washed most of the blood, but at least four stab wounds were clearly visible in chest.

A shock of gold, darting between the trees impossibly fast. Lyen's heart leapt to her throat. No ordinary soldier. She raised her hands to her mouth and let out a low whistle, trilling upwards on the last note: a common signal among Yasoi hunters. If there were allies nearby the would come. She just needed to survive. Her hands still covered her mouth as a wave of force energy brushed against her face. Lyen ducked just in time for a long dagger to embed itself into the tree behind her, inches from where her head had been.

Survive. She reminded herself, and focused on slowing her opponent. Jagged stones appeared under his feet, forcing the mage to slow and adjust his trajectory.

"You, pointy-ear, why are you fight for Parrence?"

He spoke Parrench poorly, barely understandable to Lyen's untrained ear. She could feel the energy of her surrounding being drawn from. He was trying to distract her. She tapped into her essence magic again misting the flooding creeks and streams of the forest in effort to reduce visibility.

"Why are you in Parrence at all?" She replied in less broken, but equally accented Perrech. "Run out of goats to fuck?" Her retort was punctuated by a bolt of lightening, instantly followed by the roar of thunder that shook the ground.

Visions of the man cooked inside his own armor, and the remains of Cap Redame's forces flooded Lyen's mind, and she feared the thunder-mage that had wrought such devistation had already arrived in the Witch Wood. Her fears were unfounded of course. The lightning was targeting the Æresvaktr and only a Yasoi could create such a spell and remain hidden in the trees. What served as her relief only enraged the southerner further. A blast of force energy emanated from him, enough to knock the wind from Lyen's lungs though she managed keep herself upright, bracing herself with the undergrowth.

"Hah! Goat jokes. If I didn't know any gooder, I think you were Parrench and not Yasoi!"
Lyen didn't respond further. His distractions were working despite her efforts; he a trained warrior practiced in drawing and casting for combat while she was only able to react. Lyen climbed her tree, binding footholds to speed her assent even as her pursuer followed. Enough. Half the tree dissolved even as the blond Eskandr began to climb, instead a dozen impossibly thin branches jutted outwards, impaling the figure. Or they did in Lyen's vision, for a moment, before he shimmered and moved again, revealing himself to have been barely grazed by the attack.

An illusion. Lyen cursed herself for not realizing it sooner. A wasted attack, a wasted opportunity. By the time she corrected her own internal essence, the Eskandr was fleeing. Strong as he was, he knew he was overwhelmed. Panic and desperation not to waste another opportunity lead Lyen to leap from her perch, karambit in hand.

Another miscalculation and misstep. No sooner did she land in the softening earth than she was caught between two Eskandr. The blonde she'd been in combat and a hulking beast of too large for a human in full plate. They both moved to attack her in unison. There was little hope, but she choose left - avoiding the brunt of the new-comers attack. Instead an axe finds her chest, splitting skin and flesh before cracking through bone. Without the time to scream, Lyen took a final gasp of air before falling and drawing herself underneath the foliage, water, and mud making up the terrain.

The fighting continued above without her. It took all of her effort to keep from crying out. Blood was splashing around her, her heart was beating to fast, and there was no air for to breathe. She willed the panic away and grasped the weapon in her chest, preparing to remove it when it disintegrated in her hands. Barely a second later, a warm burning replaced the searing pain. She was being binded by another. More help had arrived. She surfaced again, drawing herself for anything to help accelerate the binding, keeping her wound from being fatal. Instead she found the armored human, prone on the forest floor. Still blinking mud from her eyes and coughing for air, Lyen raised her karambit again.

"Enough!" A sudden surge of energy comes off the man as he stands, repelling Lyen to her feet beside him before her weapon had chance to find purchase. He moved away from her to aid his comrade, but when Lyen tried to follow, her legs gave out under her. She had lost too much blood, and her recovery was far from done. Her weapon fell from her hand as she fought unconsciousness to watch the Yasoi and Eskandr fight through the hail and rain. Her savior was not other than the Baroness of Loriindton, outpacing and outclassing them all with one leg. There wasn't even time for Lyen to find the humor in it before an explosion turned her world white.

summary

- Lyen finds the dead Yasoi just in time for Horik to get the jump on her
- She signals for other Yasoi in the area for help while they have a bout
- Otios arrives and they begin to corner the Æresvaktr
- Kol shows up, completely turning the tides and Lyen nearly dies
- Lady Talit to the rescue
- Horik dies at the hand of Otios, Kol manages to escape, Lyen passes out. The Yasoi will need to heal before planning their next action

The Hourglass Order

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