Welcome to Gaia! ::

In the night sky, a faint star winked out of existence, elliciting a sigh from a lone figure on the world below, which was now that littlest bit darker for the loss of another light. This was a world lit only by stars and fire, with no artificial means for chasing away the darkness.

Fortunately for Thicket, she not only loved the darkness, but could see through it no matter how faint the source of light; and this place was not so far gone as to have none at all. It even had a sun still - two, actually - that shone hazily through in the day sky. Now, though, there were hours left to her before they began that slow trek above the horizon.

The aoide had been crouched at the edge of a poor excuse for a scrubby forest since just after sunset, blue eyes keeping a sharp watch for one of the half-man, half-horses who populated this tiny approximation of a world. She was growing impatient, tired of waiting in so many different ways.

At last, however, the tall silhouette of a centaur on approach caught her eye, and she allowed herself a smile, clutching at the bag slung over her shoulder. The demoness waited until she could make out the details of his fine face and lean body before speaking in a low hiss just within his hearing.

"You're late, Tiss-arr Fovv."

"But here nonetheless," he returned impatiently, flipping shoulder-length hair out of his eyes. "Do you have it?"

"Of course I have it!" Reflexively, Thicket clutched her bag closer. "And I've seen him, the one."

"You're sure of it?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I have no doubts." The aoide stood, but was still forced to look up to meet the horse-man's gaze. "He's deliciously perfect, a devotee of the Sun who will spend eternity in Night." Thicket chuckled darkly. "Isn't it delicious?"

Tiss-arr Fovv was silent for a moment, thoughtful. "You mean to tell me that Finn-att Sokk-att is the one? That arrogant pig?"

"The very one," she chortled, slipping her burden from her shoulder and extending it to the centaur. "Can you do it?"

The centaur took what he was offered, breaking into predatory grin. "It will be my pleasure."

Another drink had followed - and another, and another, on into the night until the approach of dawn could no longer be denied, and anyone left awake had stumbled away to sleep off the night's many toasts.

Finn-att had been among the last, although unlike some he'd actually managed to make it to the guest tent provided for him. There he'd fallen immediately asleep, cushioned by a bed of soft furs. Now it was early afternoon, and the centaur had yet to stir; if he were lucky, he could get away with sleeping on through to late afternoon.

He would not, however, be so fortunate.

"Father!" Small but forceful hands gripped his arm, shaking at first lightly and then progressively harder. "Father, wake up!"

Finn-att groaned, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes as he jerked his arm away. "Go bother your mother, Jakk, and leave me alone," he mumbled groggily.

"No, Father!" Jakk insisted, this time grabbing him by the antlers and shaking, even though he knew how much his father hated that. "You have to wake up!"

Finally, Finn was forced into wakefulness, snatching his son's hands and pulling them away from his antlers. The last thing a man with a hangover needed was a kid rattling his brain around in his skull. "Alright, alright! I'm awake!" He squinted his eyes at the dim light filtering in through the open tent flap. "What do you want, boy?"

"Mother's gone!" the boy exclaimed, grabbing his father's arm again and tugging.

"Already? What'd she leave without me for?" Finn-att finally blinked his eyes open to stare fuzzily at Jakk. "Woman could've just told me she wanted to leave sooner. She take your sisters with her?"

"No!" Jakk cried, stamping his hooves in desperate frustration. Now that Finn could see him more clearly, he saw from his expression that Jakk was seriously distressed. "She didn't leave, she's gone! She went to the river with Kerr, and now she's gone!" Finally, the young centaur couldn't hold it in anymore, and started to cry - he never cried in front of his father.

"Whoa, whoa!" Nothing but awake and attentive now, Finn sat up, gesturing his son over with open arms. "Come here, Jakk, and stop your crying. Stop that crying now, you hear me?"

Jakk wavered, but went to his father, wrapping his small arms around his waist. Sniffling, he took long, deep breaths, trying hard to do as his father said and stop crying.

"Better. More slowly, now." The centaur pushed away a growing sense of unease, quieting the beginnings of a panic more tightly-controlled than his son's. "Tell me what happened, and be clear."

"Kerr...Kerr came running, she was crying. She wouldn't tell anyone why but me." Even in his distress, Jakk seemed proud of that.

"And why was she crying?" Finn prodded.

"She said a man came and scared them, and took Mother away." The sniffling came back. He just couldn't help it.

Rage and disbelief flared in Finn-att, and he pushed himself up, the angry stomping of his hooves muffled by the furs beneath them. "Who, Jakk?!" he roared, "Tell me who!"

Jakk backpedaled, startled by the sudden change in his father. "I- I don't know! He was gray! Dark gray!"

"No," Finn growled, bringing his forehooves down in angry unison. "That b*****d!"

Finding that the chief of the Lightbearer's Herd could be of no help to him, Finn sought the shaman instead. Where the mundane failed, perhaps someone with higher concerns could offer something of use; right about now, Finn-att could really do with something of use. Hopefully it would be more than some wise tidbit of enlightenment. He was sure wise tidbits of enlightenment had their place, but now and then a man needed something more substantial.

Ducking through a tent flap marked with an expansive spiral, he entered the shaman's dwelling, letting the flap drop and brush against his broad, muscular side before he cleared it and it fell closed. In here it was just dark enough to be properly mysterious, with an unhealthy dose of mystical, smoky odors.

Secretly, Finn-att speculated that none of this was really necessary; he didn't remember having his nostrils so rudely invaded by such numerous and pungent smokes when this tent had been Jukk-arr's. Being in the late shaman's presence had rarely been an eye-watering experience, and yet his former apprentice insisted on making it a staple for reasons unknown.

Finn missed wiry old Jukk-arr, to be perfectly true; but perhaps he was just being sentimental. After all, the old shaman of the Lightbearer had been the one to give him his horns...although, truthfully, having them planted in his head had been one of the more painfully unpleasant experiences of his life. Still, ever since Jukk-arr's death from a coughing sickness last autumn, Finn had found himself missing the man who'd already been old at the time of Finn's birth.

Well, it was silly and stupid. He'd get used to the old man's successor eventually, and forget his sentimentality. Being sentimental never got anyone anywhere, so far as Finn knew, so it was no time to start thinking too much on such matters.

"Tiss-arr Fovv," he announced, waving away some of the smoke that obscured his vision. Yes, this was definitely overkill. "I seek your council."

At the back of the tent, a shape stirred, rising up onto four sturdy legs - the shaman, awakened from rest or disturbed from meditation. "I am sought." Tiss-arr's voice was soft, a flowing contrast to the herd-chief's harsher tones. "What is it that you need, second son of Sokk-att? I'm afraid it's beyond me to summon misplaced wives."

"I did not misplace her," Finn snapped without thinking. "She was stolen."

Tiss-arr was silent for a moment, drawing closer until Finn could make out his vague smile. "Of course. My apologies. Again, what may I do for you?"

Finn shook his head, sighing. What point had there really been in coming, anyway? "Maybe there's nothing you can do. I just...I need to get her back! If I don't, the insult will stand, and I will be shamed. My herd could leave me, rather than share the fall."

"But you don't have the strength you need to accomplish such a feat. Those who run under the Starspinner would trample the Sunlord's people." The words only drove the knife of humiliation deeper into Finn's stomach. He knew this.

"If I but had the strength, it is Skorr-att who would be trampled!" Finn stomped his hoof for emphasis. "Make no mistake!"

"I assure you, I do not," Tiss-arr said calmly. "But that kind of strength is not easy to come by."

"That kind of strength is what I need." Looking away, Finn shook his head. "But it is hopeless. I cannot gather a herd that would match his. I do not have that time."

"Then perhaps what you need is not a herd; not something to match him, but rather to surpass him," the shaman suggested, brushing strands of white-blonde hair from his eyes.

Finn-att's ears pricked forward with interested as his eyes narrowed seriously. "You are saying there is a way?"

Tiss-arr's smile returned. "I am."

"Tell me! You must tell me." He would do anything. Anything at all.

Tiss-arr turned then, hiding the look of disdain that passed over his features as he moved away, back towards the rear of his tent. "Patience," he admonished, "Is often rewarded."

A minute later, he returned to Finn, holding out a small, simple bag for the larger centaur to take, which he did, eyeing it curiously. "A bag is to be my advantage?"

"No, you fool, what's inside the bag. Open it, and hold your hope in your hands." Tiss-arr watched him like a hawk, waiting.

"It seems awfully small," he muttered, but obeyed, opening the bag and spilling the contents into his hand. It was a raw, unimpressive chunk of rock, darkness shot through with deep blue and purple. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A rock? This is hardly better than a bag."

"Ah, you think that now!" The shaman chuckled, shaking his head. "There is power in that piece of stone - no, a power. Older than you could possibly imagine."

Finn-att looked up from his study of the stone, still unconvinced that this rock was going to be his salvation. "And how might one unlock and use such power?"

"By making the power a part of himself," the palomino answered. "Take that stone, set it in your flesh, and you will have power, and a chance to become power itself."

He turned the object over in his hand again, considering it once more. "Set it in my flesh? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Give it here, and I will set it for you," Tiss-arr offered, extending his open hand. "If, that is, you think you can handle it, Finn-att Sokk-att."

"I can handle a rock," he insisted, but hesitated, finding himself unwilling to surrender the stone. Finally, however, he did.

Favoring the herd chief with a broad smile, Tiss-arr accepted back the stone, circling over to Finn-att's side. Without another word, he pressed it to where the half that was man met the half that was horse, blending smooth skin into reddish-brown hairs. For a moment, Finn felt nothing, and then a strange tingling began at the spot, followed by an indescribable sinking feeling as the stone settled into his flesh.

Later, it would disturb him that there had been no pain. "What now?"

"You will know," the shaman answered. "My part for now is done."

The dismissal was clear. Inclining his head respectfully to Tiss-arr Fovv, Finn took his leave.

In the middle of the night, the centaur stirred; but Finn-att himself remained in an exhausted sleep. It was Itztlac who lifted a hand to finger the chief's antlers and their ornaments in idle curiosity. He smiled to himself at the feel - it had been a long time indeed since he'd felt anything at all. Finn's stubbled face was rather distasteful though, ungroomed equating with unclean for the god.

Itztlac was not alone for long; vaguely horse-like ears twitched forward at the whisper of sound that was a visitor entering the tent. The dark, lithe figure moved on two legs, a curtain of hair obscuring her face. A pair of twisting horns ears topped her head.

"Thicket," Itztlac whispered, motioning the aoide closer. Lowering, she moved towards him on all fours with a cautious purr. He put out his arm and drew her in, smiling. "There you are, my girl."

Thicket looked up at him, returning his smooth smile with an eager one. "Is it right, my lord?" she questioned, eyes anxious. "He is the one?"

The god smoothed his servant's hair, nodding. "You have done very well. We're not finished yet, though. I do not wish to wait out my time here, in a world of so little consequence."

"There is a way to get away from here," Ket provided, beaming, "To where the others are also being reborn, where Destruction dwells."

"He is everywhere," Tlac corrected absently, before returning to the matter at hand. "Tell me what you know, and quickly - we must arrange it all before this fool wakes. I will not stay here a moment longer than I absolutely must."

"As you wish, lord..."

The comfortably solid feel of earth beneath his hooves was soon replaced by the hardness of rock, on which his steps rang out. It was sharply startling, and the centaur pulled to an abrupt halt - and found himself in a gully of flat stone, beneath his feet and all around him, much of it having begun to crack and crumble. Finn-att stood frozen in this disturbing dreamscape - for what else could it be? - in which he saw only one sun, dark and hazy.

Itztlac? he ventured, glancing behind himself to see only a wall of rectangular reddish stones held together by something gray. Itztlac, what dreams do you put into my head?

Relax, the smooth voice soothed, For dreams cannot harm.

Finn grimaced, displeased by the answer. Why this dream? Explain to me, Itztlac, if you are mine!

There are things that must be done, things you must understand, if my power is to become yours. Only trust me, walk this dream as I tell you, and all will be revealed.

The herd-chief thought for long moment, regarding his utterly foreign surroundings dubiously. He stomped his foot against the solid rock of the ground with enough force that it hurt, yet he did not wake. He must have been deep in this dream indeed. Finally, he nodded, and spoke aloud, "Then guide me, before my patience or this dream runs out."

There is all the time in the world for this dream, Itztlac assured him. Now, go forward and turn to your left when we come out from this alley.

Alley? Finn asked curiously. The word was unfamiliar.

This small, narrow space we are in. Nevermind the terminology, simply heed my directions, if you please.

"Very well," he grumbled, and began his guided journey through this twisted dreamland.

Itztlac had no sooner stepped into their bare rooms than his host wrested control back from him in an assault so strong the centaur physically bucked; and once control was his again, he wasted no time taking out his frustrations on his surroundings, delivering a powerful kick to the wall. The rooms may have been suited to his stature, but apparently no one had taken into account his strength and temper. The wall was as any other wall, and whatever material used gave under such force.

Mere moments since they had been given the room, Finn-att had already put a hole in the wall, and was all set to make it a pair when the god within him rebuked him with a condescending 'Tsk, tsk.'

It only fueled his rage, and his hooves came down hard on the wooden floor. "You b*****d!" he roared, "You filthy, lying b*****d!"

Perhaps you should choose your words carefully, Finn-att, Itztlac advised with a dark laugh. That had the ring of blasphemy, you know.

"Truth is not blasphemy," he growled, whirling to throw another kick against the wall. This one didn't land as hard or squarely, and the wall was spared another hole. "It is deceit that is a sin!"

That depends upon whom you serve, I think.

"You have stolen another god's faithful! Surely that is a sin!" Still he raged against the god whose service he had been forced into, unable to accept it so easily.

Night laughed again. You spoke to the Ruler of us all, and he gave me no rebuke! No, Finn-att, you are mine by right. Not by theft, by right. There has been no sin.

Finn shook his head sharply, beginning to pace. "And Tiss-arr? What right do you have to him? What right to deceive him?"

Tiss-arr! Tiss-arr was never deceived! Itztlac's laughter reach its peak, echoing through Finn's mind. He was the first to deceive you! He knew what I was!

He froze mid-stride, barely able to comprehend what he heard. "No! Impossible! He is sworn to the Lightbearer, not to you! He would not betray his oaths!"

Oh, but he would, and he has. It is Destruction he turns his eyes to now, not your friend's precious Light.

"No...no, you lie! You seek to deceive me again!" Finn denied with all the will he had, although his heart sank, because he knew, because it made too much sense...and he never had liked Tiss-arr Fovv.

That's right, I speak the truth now and you know it. And you will listen, because you are mine now. My servant, Finn-att Sokk-att. You cannot change that.

"But I don't have to like it either!"

No, you do not, but you should get used to the idea.