Welcome to Gaia! ::

Link walked alongside Synrai and ‘listened’ to him as he spoke. She thought for a time about what he said before she responded. It was a tricky subject.

“I think,” she began slowly, “The reason why they fight so much is not for the obvious reason they claim. They think that they have no need for the other race, that it should belong just to the one. This is most likely why they want the annihilation of each other. They don’t understand how they could help each other. If there were some way – some possible way of showing how much one needs the other then maybe they could be done with this war. Oh, I don’t know . . . it’s all very difficult to explain.” She paused for a moment trying to find a way to say what she wanted.

“It’s almost like when I had lost my hearing. A while ago when I got sick and slowly, day by day, I started to hear less and less. Until then I never realized how much I needed it – how much is saved me and protected me. I had to learn how to live all over again. It was devastating . . . but so helpful at the same time. I finally realized what one was without the other, an I learned how to live with it. If the two races of this world would realize what I did, and if they would learn all over again how to live then they would find peace. We just need someone to teach them – teach them to hear . . . teach them to see . . .”

Synrai turned away a little sadly as Link finished. Her words rang true, and they made a good deal of sense to the cerulean-orbed dragon. Years ago, when he had used dark magic to contain the poison, he hadn’t considered what he could have lost; but when the spell cost him his eyesight, he had been devastated. It had been so sudden, and for many weeks afterward he had prayed desperately to the Goddess that she might give him back his eyesight.

Eventually, however, he had become so used to life without vision that he could almost live life completely normally. As Link had done, the blue-eyed dragon had moved on, though he still missed seeing the world around him in color. Synrai had found other means to become strong, though perhaps not so much as he’d been before his loss.

Perhaps Link was right. The two peoples of this world had lost contact with one another, and forgotten what it had been like to work together in harmony. Both had become strong on their own, but together they could be whole. But how to accomplish such a task?

“Teach them to see…” he repeated, his lips curling upward at the edges slightly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right...” He walked a little farther, deep in thought. The clusters of buildings and houses had begun to dissipate, leaving open ground all around them. Something about the scene made Synrai feel very vulnerable—but he couldn’t place why…

“Thank you, Link,” he said abruptly turning to her, smiling kindly. Synrai Silverwing rarely flashed a grin nowadays, but when he did, it was always pure—and it took years off his thin countenance. For once, Synrai appeared almost youthful. Certainly his human form was that of a young man, but one laden with the worries of one far older.

As he neared the outermost reaches of the village, he noticed a fleeting tune on the wind in the distance. Another thing that had grown with the loss of sight. All his remaining senses seemed slightly more attuned. The music was beautiful, the voice of a maiden carried on the breeze.

Is it true what they say, are we too blind to find the way? Fear of the unknown clouds our hearts, today...

“Someone’s singing,” he informed Link, knowing that she could not hear the voice. The tone seemed so familiar. Ah, yes. “I think it’s the girl from last night.”

~~~

Apollo nearly leaped out of his skin when he heard the tremulous voice break the silence within the igloo.

The fire elementals! They're back! They're back! That was definitely the girl from the night before. The tan Ookami wondered exactly why her voice sounded so overjoyed. A Dark mage happy? That couldn’t be good. But for some reason, she was talking about the Fire element. That didn’t have anything to do with anything dark. And as he remembered, she had forsaken Riven the day before…

With a look of apprehension, the tan-furred Ookami decided to see what was going on. He neared the edge of the shelter, sniffing inquisitively. The Tainted still smelled of darkness, but not so much the girl. Apollo lurked just outside of the entrance...

Axys had to admit; he was pleased. The cruel summoner gazed at his reflection in the crystalline pool of the oasis—the last remaining thing that was entirely pure within the sandy expanse. Everything else around him had been laid bare by the foul magic within the Void. Sentries stood all around him, guards as black as night and as unmoving as statues. Axys smiled when he considered that the foul magic in Celestir had probably done wonders for the landscape there as well. The arid air carried the scent of the Void, the wind taking on the tang of burning metal.

The summoner leaned down over the pool, his own reflection staring back at him from the smooth surface. He admitted to himself that he looked rather princely. His form was wreathed in heavy scarlet robes, the bony armor on his shoulders sticking out. His head was hooded, but the lurid orbs within burned brightly in the shadow created by the fabric over his pale face—which had taken on a smooth, almost feline appearance; still vaguely human. A high backed leather collar covered the bottom half of his visage, and a crown of pure dark magic adorned his head. The arcane material moved chaotically about—shadowed tongues weaving all around the circlet. His staff gleamed dark ebony—newly polished. In his taloned hand, Axys held a smooth, black mask. The slotted eyeholes were set in such a way so that at first glance, it would appear that anyone wearing the mask did not have any facial features whatsoever. In Axys’ opinion, he looked magnificent.

Such were the charms of Azhardos, the Rune of Deception, and the stores of power that Riven had allotted him to retain such a form. Axys had found that he gained a much higher proficiency with the Rune of Deception—for his bonded had had limitless shape-shifting ability before he’d been stripped of his form. The summoner called forth more sentries from the dark fissure behind him; tall pillars of sooty smoke with grinning mouths, but no other feature. Six of them took their positions around him—a cadre of bodyguards that would impress the masses, but not take away from his own splendor.

He was ready.

With an inquisitive tendril of thought, Axys touched the link between himself and his master. Where had he gone?

~~~

A white hawk circled high above the two dragons. It had been following them, observing them with the practiced eye of one that had watched beings for thousands of years. Riven circled above the duo, letting his feathered wings glide on the updrafts hidden in the clouded sky. Of course, if he’d wanted to, Riven could easily have slipped in among the dragons, completely invisible—but the thrill of flight was far too enticing, he admitted. It was perhaps a weakness of the Dark Seraph’s—the love of flight. Riven had been created with wings, and as soon as Azura had released him upon the world, the black angel had taken to the skies with the same fierce delight as any dragon or falcon. He loved watching the world below, so high above. It made him feel like the god he knew he was.

So let the two dragons notice him in the skies—they wouldn’t realize who he was anyway—though perhaps they might marvel at his pure white plumage. Such an ego he had! But he never let it get the better of him. If he wanted to, Riven could easily teleport himself back to the desert, where his summoner waited.

Silverwing.

Such a lovely creature, really. Silverwing was fairly tall, his frame slender—something fragile, and yet a body that held strength. His face was thin and gaunt with the worries of the years, but still handsome nonetheless—high cheekbones accenting those enchanting azure orbs. The only thing that marred his face was the thin scar tracing from forehead to upper lip on the dragon’s left side. Raven strands were kept neatly within a long braid running down the dragon’s back. The hair around his face framed his countenance nicely; two black curtains surrounding angled marble features.

Silverwing looked nearly like Riven had once appeared. It was as though he had been created just to spite the Dark Seraph—who could no longer take on such a guise.

Yes, the dragon’s human form made the Dark Seraph nostalgic for his own beautiful design. That is, before it had been viciously taken from him by his bright sister. Well, look who was now sitting in the reaches of space while the wheels and mechanisms of mortal lives turned without her consent. Who was turning them? A certain white falcon, seemingly innocuous, soaring on the clear currents against a star-strewn sky. He imagined Azura’s surprise and shock when he overcame these paltry defenses; once more in a body that resembled his first—his eyes blazing a brilliant blue instead of the blood red they had once been.

Riven could sense the darkness burn within the dragon’s heart; the dual spells colliding with one another in a never-ending battle. For the moment, the binding enchantment was winning over the dark poison. How easy it would be to shift the balance—like flipping a switch. It would only take a thought and the thin dragon would eventually die when the equilibrium was altered. Riven gained a sense of satisfaction from the fact that he already held so much power over his future vessel. But still…

Something about Silverwing wasn’t quite right, he realized. The dragon was using his elemental magic far too often. No. It is in perpetual use. But why? He was about to investigate further into the matter when an annoying voice issued in his mind. Axys.

Taking off into the clouds, Riven disappeared in a whirlwind of shade.

[I know this is a bit of a cheater's post to be using a song, but the song seems so fitting for this RP I just had to incorporate it. Click on the link below this OOC to listen to the song and read my post as you do, or listen to the song before/after you read.]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUw0JBT2dYw

As she continues to shear the first sheep, Felda keeps on singing. It eases the minds of the barn and herself most of all. Her heart lightens from singing or performing massage, both just make her feel like a person again. Half of the sheep's wool if off and the shepherdess has the animal turn so she can start on the other side.
"Come into my world...see through my eyes. Try to understand, don't want to lose what we have.", she is already done with the ewe. Felda has been shearing for years and so it is second nature to her, more sheep group to her in order to be eased of their saggy wool, "We've been dreaming but who can deny...it's the best way of living, between the truth and the lies. See who I am, break through the surface, reach for my hand. Let's show them that we can free our minds and find a way...the world is in our hands, this is not the end."
The shears might be rusty, but their large size aids her to complete two more sheep and beckon to the fourth.
"Fear is withering the soul, at the point of no return. We must be the change we wish to see...I'll come into your world, see through your eyes. I'll try to understand, before we lose what we have. We just can't stop believing because...we have to try. We can rise above the truth and the lies..."
By now half the herd is done, those that have been sheared await in a far corner of the pen, huddled together for extra warmth as they blink lazily from the gentle voice of their shepherdess.
"See who I am, break through the surface, reach for my hand. Let's show them that we can free our minds and find a way...the world is in our hands, see who I am, break through the surface, reach for my hand. Let's show them that we can free our minds and find a way...the world is in our hands, this is not the end..."
A new ewe, one who has not yet been sheared before, quivers before Felda.
"Hear the silence...preaching my blame. Will our strength remain, if their power reigns..?"
The girl is thankful for the next few verses which are very pleasing to animals in which being wordless. She slowly resonates the enchanting, wordless verses and is pleased to see the sheep calm. All of the herd has been sheared and a hill of wool hazes the middle of the sheep pen. Singing the rest of the song, Felda stands and opens the pen's gate. The sheep follow behind her, once the barn door is open they bound into the grazing fields hungrily.
"See who I am, break through the surface, reach for my hand. Let's show them that we can free our minds and find a way...the world is in our hands, see who I am, break through the surface, reach for my hand. Let's show them that we can free our minds and find a way...the world is in our hands, this is not the end."
Felda happily observes the grouped sheep and their goat, all grazing. An odd thumping noise from behind her makes her frown. Turning about, the girl feels her heart clench. Her parents had gone off a few flames ago to the market. They had let the horses out and one of the large beasts is standing right before her. It is the very horse that had bucked her off a few years ago. The mare had been aged then, now she is an old nag. No matter the age though. It is still the size that cows and petrifies Felda to the spot. A cold breeze chisels at her face, the nag nickers softly with her ears perked.

After a cold bath, the young man dresses in his usual attire. Once his undergarments, leggings, tunic and boots have been pulled on, he cinches a belt around his waist. Finding the tunic too tightly around himself, Ardan loosely picks at the material until it is in a more comfortable position above his belt. He goes into the kitchen to join his family for breakfast.
"Any letter from Pop yet?", he questions this to his mother as he greets his younger brother and baby sister.
The older woman sighs and shakes her head. "Your father is busy training I'll bet, it might be another moon's turn afore he writes you back, son."
With a shrug, Ardan sits at the table and eats a hearty breakfast. A glass of warm cider, sausage and a rare orange that has been brought in by other worlds' merchants. Giving his family members each a kiss goodbye does he report to the northern guard tower. Here he jogs up the wooden steps and into the guards' room, finding his armor on the shelf. He first straps on his leg armor, his chest plate, gauntlets, and lastly lowers his helmet over the messy and short chestnut hair atop his head. Now the young man collects his halberd and walks out of the tower to the upper level, walking along the wall towards his old friend's farm. The shield is left behind since it is only needed for training, or actual battle. Not guarding flames nor weary days. As he walks, Ardan gazes fondly at his breast plate and weapon. The rams he chose to show his forward fighting methods. Atop the halberd's blade, the sharp point has been fashioned into an owl with it's wings pointing upwards, still making this end dangerous. His soft leather boots make hardly any sound. Thanks to the eternal night's cold air though, they emit some dull noises. Nearing Felda's farm, Ardan slows as he hears a serene voice. It had been far too long since he had heard the meek girl sing, it is really a shame she no longer sings at festivals and only does so in private. The song being sung seems to replenish his morning-weary mind, grogginess fading as the voice rose and fell. Once a herd of naked sheep bound together and stay close to one another, the young guard raises his left arm to try and wave. He is alarmed to see that Felda has halted before a harmless looking mare.
"Felda?" he calls gently.
Not getting any response, Ardan jumps down from the wall easily, curving his arm beneath him as he rolled once hitting the ground. Getting to his feet he trots over to the hooded girl, making the sheep baa at the sudden intrusion. Nearing the jade-eyed boy carefully pushes the mare away, making the horse walk off in search of food.
"Are you alright?"

"I wouldn't've been able to even if I'd wanted to." Tanyeera replied absentmindedly as she watched the fire elementals frolick with a fond smile. "I was fairly wiped myself you know."

Then, with a shake of her head, she suddenly seemed to recall herself and turned intensely formal. "We apologise for still hanging around your pack's territory and making you come out to warn us off like this." she assumed the tan wolf had come out to tell them to get going since she couldn't imagine why else an Ookami would approach even a former Tainted.

"We'll be leaving now since I have my little friends here to keep us warm." A birdlike creature with rather human eyes perched on her shoulder and chirruped agreement as she unthinkingly stroked its crest. "Come on Tanya. Guys, warm her too ok?" Almost immediately about ten of the creatures swarmed Tanya to perch or nestle around her. Tanya giggled and started to pet and stroke them too. They crooned gently under her attention and Tanyeera smiled at the sight.

"Alright, let's get going. We'll try heading for the mountains ok? Far from your pack's territory. If we get to the leeward side, it should be at least a little warmer." With that, the two girls, each loaded down with their share of chirruping, crooning fire elementals, headed for the mountain.

((I'm assuming this works, yes? If not, I'll change something.))

Ekanta started the day as she would any other in her little lake in the woods. Well, maybe little was a bit of an understatement. It proved a nice home for the Nen’Shri and was definitely deep enough. The lake bottom was a little more murky then the waters of Orcos, but comfortable all the same.

A strange sensation came over her in the early hours of the morn. The elegant woman couldn’t quite place it. She was more intrigued than anything and felt the urge to go into town for that day. It was after the humans’ grand festival so if there were any time to strike up some good hearted mischief it would be now.

Ekanta hadn’t cause trouble in the least for ages and her impish ways were itching to step out and wreak a little havoc. She could stay out for the day, as long as weak magic would allow her to dwell on land, and have all the fun she wanted. If it were a strong spell then she could stay out as much as two and a half days but this was not needed. The best time to go about things was while everyone was sleeping, and everyone was so because of their late-nighted parties.

Ekanta decided that magic used was well worth the enjoyment of mischief and performed the magic allotment that set her fins – turned to feet – on land. Glancing down, the Nen’Shri saw her toes and wiggled them with a small childish giggle. She could never get used to the feeling of having legs; it would always be something strange and new to her.

Ekanta smiled to herself and quickly set out to do her ‘day’s work.’

w e ' r e ¤ f l o a t i n g ¤ i n ¤ t h e ¤ a i r
d a n c i n g ¤ i n ¤ t h e ¤ m i d n i g h t ¤ s k y

((I loved the graphics in it, too. It inspired me to do some desert-themed art last night. XDDDD Mmm.... eye candy. OH, and Jesus, loverly post. Yay for teh fishies!))

Synrai balked at the young man’s words, settling his unease. He had felt the man tense his muscles as he called out, and tensed himself automatically; ready to dodge anything that came his way. Years of experience in the battlefield had taught his reflexes to be quick at any sign of hostility, but he was silently laughing at himself now. This was no battlefield, just an empty field of sheep and other animals of the farm. Synrai had never had much farm experience himself—he was a dragon after all, but he surmised what the young lady had been up to as he drew near. Shearing sheep for wool. The soft fur of the animals could be made into fabric for clothes and other textiles.

The man had asked him who he was and why he had come. Sound questions, but should he reveal his name? The blind dragon supposed there was no harm in it—most of the people knew him as Silverwing, not Synrai. He was privately glad the nickname had stuck rather than the latter. Now he didn’t have to make up some other alias to refer to himself by; something Wyvern was not likely to remember in any case. This in mind, he spoke up before he started to look even more suspicious.

“My friend and I were walking about the village when I heard a lovely voice,” Synrai began, walking closer so that the firelight would shine on him. It was rather uncomfortable to talk to a shadow. “We just arrived yesterday, and I recognized the voice as belonging to the one who had helped us find an inn last night. We just remembered we had forgotten to properly thank her. My name is Synrai, and my friend is Link.” The cerulean-orbed dragon bowed slightly to the two of them. He had always done so out of habit, especially in the numerous princes’ courts he had visited. He remembered showing the same respect to several lords and ladies, and to one very annoyed prince…

Would you STOP that! By the light of Azura, Silverwing, you are a hero! You don’t have to bow to every living soul that gives you a second glance! I swear if my cat walked in you’d be down on bended knee, asking it what services you could render it! Synrai remembered with chagrin that he wasn’t able to entirely break the habit, and it had earned him another lecture from the same prince about how to show authority to those who should be showing the same courtesy to him. You just finished restoring peace to their little villages; you’d think they would show a bit more gratitude! Like a fat paycheck or something! Synrai had laughed at that. He had said he didn’t need any compensation for his services. It was enough for him to see a world at peace. The prince in question had smiled. You really are something. He said no more afterwards.

Synrai did notice the tone of the young man, but supposed he was completely justified in being a little rude. They were, after all, trespassing. He wouldn’t be too miffed if the young man was a bit rude. He knew quite a few other people who wouldn’t have questioned Synrai or Link, but rather would have opted to attack first and think about it later…

a n d ¤ e v e r y o n e ¤ w h o ¤ s e e s ¤ u s
g r e e t s ¤ u s ¤ a s ¤ w e ¤ f l y

w e ' r e ¤ f l o a t i n g ¤ i n ¤ t h e ¤ a i r
d a n c i n g ¤ i n ¤ t h e ¤ m i d n i g h t ¤ s k y

The blue-orbed dragon’s eyes blanked out for a moment as he ‘read’ Link’s motions. It had proven difficult the first few times, but Synrai had eventually gotten used to using his ‘second sight’ to discern what she was saying.

It had also given him a chance to hone his skills. He could pick out every detail in what the white-blonde dragon was telling him; noticing every movement of her hands. His time with Link had certainly been educational.

He nodded to his friend quickly, repeating everything she told him to the two humans, but he didn’t mention Link’s infirmity—Synrai knew of all people how awkward a subject like that could be, though he knew it would eventually come up. Still, he thought it would be best if Link explained it herself, as he had done with Wyvern. His little brother hadn’t known anything until the older dragon had mentioned it. Surely he had suspected something? But no, Synrai had had the feeling that the young dragon had been completely oblivious…

The odd, cold feeling from before had vanished, and the air felt a lot cleaner. Still, Synrai was a little tense around the two humans—both because he wasn’t as comfortable as he used to be around others, and because he was still worried that someone might recognize him…

a n d ¤ e v e r y o n e ¤ w h o ¤ s e e s ¤ u s
g r e e t s ¤ u s ¤ a s ¤ w e ¤ f l y