Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ah, I gotcha, and I know the problems you're facing too. I like to watch characters slowly and gracefully unfold like perfect oragami. The problem with writing that is that it's boring as hell, the reader knows it, you know it, I know it. In fantasy we long for downtime, we enjoy the funny little moments of leisure they experience because we aren't being bombarded with action and problems.

The trick is to make the boring, unboring. In actual fact I don't want to read about anyone laying on a couch watching the world pass by. I don't mind a chapter or two of introspection, a few chapters worth of inaction and refusal to take part in events, but doing nothing is bad business. When nothing happens, that's just it, nothing happens and you can't write about nothing. The easiest method I've foung to conquer this is by having your characters constantly doing things, my character and demi-avatar Roky in my novel is always devising plans, traps, setting up organizations and generally being everywhere and still have time to fit in the ladies. How I balance this out is by having him break down completely, get over stressed and finally explode, that way I can take him out of the picture and refresh my audience with characters that were previously in the background. This way we get a sense that not as MUCH is happening, as opposed to nothing at all.

I like to think of myself sometimes as brilliant, but I won't say it out loud.

the Demon

All right ladies and gents, the much awaited PART 4 is up for reading, enjoy!


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The bubbling tide of pale acid gushed towards Varos, he flicked his hands gently and zoomed high into the air. He caught a whiff of the putrid smell and fought to keep his stomach in check. He chanced a look down and saw a roiling stream of fire erupt from another of the heads and flitted safely away. Varos aimed himself and came in low, swinging with the black sword in an arc at the beast’s hind leg.

The sword roared with a terrible voice and cut a deep, gushing wound into its leg. The hydra screamed, cutting deep into Varos mind, his concentration vanished and he hit the ground, rolling to a painful stop. The creature would give him no respite and pounced hungrily upon him. Varos yelled a chant and an orb of white energy spread over him, the hydra hit the shield and Varos instantly felt the drain on his body. The Hydra chomped down on the force field and Varos moaned in agony, his powers now fleeting. The monster stepped back and two heads reared up, a sickening gurgle floated into Varos ears and he moved his hands, recalled the field and the flying spell whipped him across the wet grass with startling speed.

“I can’t fight that.” Varos gasped, trying to enjoy the cool wind on his face. He glanced over his flapping robes and saw the hydra pawing through the fire and acid, totally immune.

Varos came to a rest a few miles away, he just lay on the field and cursed himself for being so arrogant. He sat up and tried to catch his breath, the hydra was still digging furiously for his body. “I did cut it though, this sword…” He glanced at it and screamed, the hilt had fused to his hand, dark, evil vines wound up his arm. “Spritz!” He roared and began tearing at his arm, his concentration gone he skidded to a halt and sat up. He motioned with his other hand and struck the sword with brilliant light but it had no effect. He felt his energy returning quickly, as if the sword were replenishing him, he grimaced seeing the vines pulsating, pumping energy into his blood. “I’m going to find that demon when this is over and I swear to the gods he’ll, oh s**t.” Varos heard the clumsy pounding on the earth and glanced back at the hydra, it had spotted him and was, despite its terrible wound gaining speed towards him.

“Okay, sword!” He addressed the black blade. “I need enough energy to cast the Medusa Oblitori again, gods I feel stupid asking a sword- Woah!” Varos gasped feeling his body surge with power, the vines overtook him until he was no longer human. The form of Varos stood ponderously, watching with ruby red eyes as the hydra roared and belched napalm into the blue sky.

The being raised its sword arm and pointed at the hydra as it closed the final hundred feet. The hydra cocked back its venomous head and the dark man-demon re-aimed and a beam of purple energy exploded forth and caught the head in mid belch. The head couldn’t even explode, vapours spurted from the neck and the beam carried to the mountain, carving a deep gash into the rock.

The hydra didn’t flinch but barrelled forward, it tore the limp neck from its shoulders and leaped upon the form of Varos. The black being flitted to the side as if on a breeze and drew the sword across the beast’s belly. The wound opened wide and organs and blood gushed forth, soaking the ground in red. The huge monster turned and spat a glob of napalm at the figure. The ground burned even before the ball reached him, but as the ball came down around him a field of bright light encircled him and he vanished from within, then appeared again astride the beast’s back.

The death black figure with an inhuman guile strode up to the whipping heads and with a series of blows cut each from the necks. The creature shook terribly and crashed to the ground.

From within his conscious mind Varos watch in awe at what his body was doing. The world suddenly seemed small to him and he thanked the sword for giving him its wicked power. He felt a grin in the back of his mind, and despite the forebodingness of the grin Varos felt safe within the black wines. Cool air kissed his forehead and he realized the vines were returning. He breathed on his owe and smiled at his handy work, Varos felt a twitch in the suit of magic and he peered out into the green field.

There walked a large figure, his shoulders broader than any man’s, his armour stone grey. At his hip dangled a twenty magical swords and about his person hung a hundred magical items. Varos gulped despite his power, he didn’t recognize the man from any story or encounter. His steps were bewitched and with every stride he came tens of feet closer at his own leisure.

“You have killed Dracos our war hydra.” The man spoke, his voice was shrill and deep, threatening and polite, it warped and escalated with every tone and chilled Varos to his heart. “We will kill you magician.” He spoke again, crooked a knee and launched himself forward with a speed Varos had only, by chance forseen.

Leaping out of the way Varos flew high into the blue and readied himself for another attack. His eyes watched the man draw a pair of wicked blades and he could feel their hunger for his blood as if two dragons were staring him in the face, pondering who was to eat his upper half. Then the man launched himself again at Varos, his face twisted in glee, anger, horror and hatred. He drew up his weapons in a killing blow and Varos swung down to block.

The swords all roared in unison, there was no class of metal but a clash of wills as the weapons screamed at one anther. In his shock Varos watched the swords as the sparked and spat, the terrible warrior dropped one squealing sword and wrapped five long, powerful fingers around Varos throat and squeezed. Varos eyes felt as if they would pop from their sockets, but the black vines overtook his head and he was allowed to breath once more. “Thank you sword.” He gasped within his own mind. He took a second to remember a spell and struck the warrior in the chest, the spell fizzled hopelessly and Varos was hit by the magic, sending him the morning’s journey back into the forest they had come by.

Varos lay, quite still in his agony, the spell had bounced back at him, he didn’t know why. He scanned his memory and looked at the all the trinkets about the man’s neck and chest. He noticed a diamond hanging from it, within a bound demon. He cursed his arrogance and pulled himself to his feet, the pendant would absorb his magic and the demon, being bound and frustrated, would send it back a hundred times to the caster. Varos could hear the tell tale steps of the warrior again and he stared at the black sword, it shivered and convulsed as if it were in great pain. His heart panged in sadness, he didn’t mean to cause the weapon harm but he couldn’t find a way to defeat the warrior.

As a great tree of a thousand years exploded before the wizard, sending him back into another tree he stared helplessly at the oncoming warrior, a grim frown on his face. “Your magic cannot harm me. R’joidse’roihdv’tiowenner, the bound demon obeys my every whim, his power is mine.” The warrior drew another sword and swung wide and slow upon Varos, who put up his shaking sword and again the two exchanged howls and tormented words. “Every weapon in my arsenal contains a bound spirit, either of an angel or demon or man, even a dragon. Their soul is bound to these metals and they make them strong and fierce.”

The warrior drew away, satisfied at his work. The black sword twitched and shook, the warrior replaced his own and drew another. Varos mind filled with sorrow, he ran to his library and heaved all the books to the floor and burned through them for any knowledge he could find to replenish the weapon. When the last book failed him, he sobbed onto the wooden table and pounded it tirelessly. “I’m sorry, that b*****d demon was wrong, I’m going to die here and fail the peasant. Damn it!”

“So much dramatics.”

Varos’ heart stopped, the voice sat at the other end of the table. He wiped his eyes and stared into the feminine face of Spritz, her own expression was sketchy and pained. “All this and you cannot defeat him?” She said, her voice shaky and small. “You must be just a magician.”

“You’re here! I mean, can you help me? He’s too powerful for me to take on my own-”

“I have never left you.” She said scornfully and held up the black sword. “That spell you thought you found was the first twenty parts of my true name. The Obliteri was of my own divination, but your eyes are bad, so it is forgivable that you might think that you had wrote it.”

“I don’t understand, you’re-”

“Helping a human being, yes, big of me isn’t it? Helping those less fortunate and without the vast wells of power that I alone hold in reserve. Uncommon? Not as much as you think, demons help mortal everyday, almost as much as angels do. I have been keeping you alive fool, why, you will never know. There is a way to kill the council of mages that are tied together in that single form. Truth for it is, the bound amulet took me by surprise as much as it did you and I worked as much as I could to defuse your spells but the demon has spent many years imprisoned. I have convinced it otherwise, demons are never alone amongst their kind and I have asked it to spare you. You know what must be done, my kin will come to take you and revive you. It will not be pleasant, but you shall not die this day. Now, are we clear?”

Varos’ mind buzzed with the information and nodded glumly. “I understand.”

“Good, now kill those deformed magicians before they give wizards a bad name.”

When Varos returned to the reality, the warrior mage turned and sneered, it choked Varos but he forced himself quickly to his feet. He was about to charge when the sword dissolved, the vein armour recoiled and terror flooded his body. The warrior charged and swung a great menacing blade, Varos couldn’t move, he was totally petrified.

As the edge came down a great beast erupted from the earth, its black leathery skin dripping pitch and venom. Varos stood in disbelief, he recognized the markings on its back and was overcome with relief as Spritz roared a terrifying screech. Hundreds of arms exploded from its back and chest, each taking hold of one of the swords and amulets. Spritz pushed forward and swallowed the diamond bound demon.

Varos snapped back to reality as the cursing warrior howled in rage, slicing evil gashes into Spritz. He ran to confront the man and chanted the Medusa Obliteri and the world went dark.


*************

Well, how was it? I don't expect any niceness having been on a trip for the past week, give it to me harsh!

the Demon

If it felt rushed it was because I was triyng to get across the urgency of the situation. Truth be told I was having trouble with some adjectives and I know a few got recycled kind of close together but oh well. I have yet to read it over for myself, so it's probably kind of cheesy.

Off I go to be my own worst critic. And I didn't go on a trip, I meant it like I haven't been posting nice things, like an ego trip sort of deal.

the Demon

Bwahaha!!! Part five for all my dearest fans! Yeah, I know, I don't have any...

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The air was cold and stank of mold. His nose twitched, the stink filled his lungs, the man rolled onto his side and wretched. He could hear a deviant chatter close by and his skin crawled and bumped, panic began to wash over Varos, he couldn’t feel his arcane powers coursing through his body, he felt numb and powerless.

“Whose there?” His voice was nothing more than a harsh rasp, he felt as if he hadn’t drank in days. “Where am I? Show yourself!”

The voices paused, he could feel grins and eyes watching him, but in the darkness he was blind. “He is simple!” One high voice whispered. “Why Spritzy, why!” Another, more agitated voice cried. “Spritzy beck and we come Parshnes! No question!” A third growled, there came a yelp of pain.

“How many of you are there!” Varos sat up on the cold stone, his back ached terribly, forcing him to stay seated. “Where are you!”

“Simple not Babash!” The last voice cackled to itself. “Simple maybe but without sight is still in pain it not be should but is here because of we.”

Varos mind followed the slanted parley but he couldn’t understand. He quickly rubbed his eyes and gasped as his fingers rubbed the smooth flesh of the balls. He thought for a second that the beasts must have cut off his eye lids, but he blinked and found they were still attached. “He sees it at last!”

“Last he sees Babash without.”

The wizard, now fully engulfed in dread cast up a brilliant light with his hands, but his eyes saw nothing. He listened deftly to the screams of the voices, his hands quickly went to his eyes, he chanted a powerful spell and felt the warm magic caress him but his eyes never healed. “His magic is back! Powerful magician!”

“Why can’t I see!” Varos finally broke, his roar of anger caused the voices to chatter and laugh. “Answer me fiends!”

“We fiends! We fiends!” They chanted excitedly.

“He looks!”

“Doesn’t see!”

“Dear, dear Spritzy took his eyes and wanted us to catch him!”

The name finally struck a cord in Varos, they were talking of the demon Spritz, had it really taken his eyes? After it had helped him was that the price for keeping him alive?

“Where is Spritz? Is he here? Tell me!”

“To us he speaks and looks but cannot see!”

“Babash quite! I shall eat your tongue!” The more mature voice grumbled, its steps echoing closer to Varos, who fidgeted as it came closer. “Spritzy not here, dead for time, a battle-man killed and kill. Return when strong.”

“Spritz is dead?” Varos pained face loosened, a black tear escaped his eye.

“Dead body.” The voice muttered.

“Who are you? What are you?” Varos didn’t want to think about the demon, he hated it passionately but it saved his life.

“I Matsma, most important-”

“Lies! Matsma is not important!”

“Your tongue Babash! Come!”

“It grow back! You will not like my gurgling!”

Varos listened begrudgingly to the struggle and slurping consumption of what he knew was the tongue of the other creature.

“Babash is least important, he means nothing.” The thing came back, smacking its lips. “Parshnes is shy and stays away, it doesn’t like human, none like human but Spritzy who dwells long in human range in tall body with roundnesses.”

Varos grinned hearing the words, so it was taboo for the demon to strut around like that, and to other demons no doubt. “I know the feeling, humans aren’t easy to get along with. Please, where am I?”

Little toes tatted against the wet floor, Varos began to get nervous. “Cave.” It sighed.

“What’s outside the cave? What can you see?”

“Mountain, only one,” Varos heart began to beat faster, his home was near a single solitary mountain. “Village, no one alive.” His heart stopped. “Missed the spire, hidden with magic, powerful magic, ugly thing.”

“The village… is gone?”

“Still there mage, just people gone. Could be Spritzy last meal, poor Spritzy, led demon pack into this world and was expelled from the pack, I bring two stupid demons in case Spritzy get hungry.”

“Can you be sure about that?” Varos grimaced and wanted to withdraw his question, but the demon was too quick.

“Is very sure it is.” Matsma replied nodding its head. “Smell is good, Spritzy was nervous about tower, was how other fiends banished Spritzy.”

“Please, take me to the tower, it’s my home.” Varos said, his face full of pain. He had grown up in that village, his friends had stayed to help their parents in their ventures and he made weekly visits to see them.

“We shall go- Babash! Parshnes! Now!” The demon screamed, Varos winced at the lack of subtlety.

He could hear them chattering, agreeing and gurgling. “Be still.” One commanded, he felt tiny hands on his body, they melted over his clothes and skin until every bit of him had been enclosed in the warm flesh of the creatures. He felt wings sprout from his back and carry him slowly off to the tower. The landing wasn’t expected and he groaned as he felt the wings retract and he fell to the ground, skidding to a stop.

The demons stretched their legs and shook themselves, their little bodies dirty from the landing, Babash glared up at the sun and hissed, then darted under a tree and burrowed his way into its thick trunk. Parshnes and Matsma scratched at their skin, the sunlight irritating them terribly, Varos stood shakily and made his way over to the invisible tower.

The spell faded as he touched it, a door creaked open and instantly in his mind Varos could see everything as he had left it. The years he spent within the tower, locked away with only his mind and the thousands of tomes and alchemic vessels to keep him occupied. His solitary life suited him, his past could be drowned out with exploration and the trials of defending towns and caravans from danger. He looked around for an object he had acquired over five years ago. His first unguided step creaked the wooden planks, he took to a staircase and leaned out, his hand reaching for a small lacquered box. When he had it, he sat down on the steps and the sounds of tiny feet in his domain alerted him that the demons had entered.

At first he nearly dispelled them back to the hellfire from whence they had been harried. But he realized who they were, “Don’t touch anything please.” He said opening the box, the scampering feet stopped, one pair was approaching him.

“I hope this works.” Varos mumbled and opened the box, within sat a foggy glass marble, a set of rings carved into one side, a sapphire set into the middle.

Plucking the charm from its case, Varos uttered magic onto his fingers and with immense displeasure, parted the skin and bone in his forehead. He quickly placed the crystal in the wound and released the spell. He could feel the skin and bone form around the charm, the small demon watched wide-eyed and clapped its hands at the show. After a moment, the crystal had been covered over by a fold of skin, Varos opened his darkened eyes, they had turned blacker than the night sky, and from his forehead, another lid opened, to reveal a pale blue eye, the world came to him once more as a foggy vision, much like it had when he implanted the charm years ago.

“You see again.” Matsma awed, he wanted desperately to touch the eye.

“Barely.” Varos sighed, it was better than nothing.

He glanced down at the demon and jumped. The beast was sharper than anything else, he could see every scar and wound, he could even gauge the monsters level of magical ability. He stared at the demon, it truly was little threat to him, though more intelligent than its speech let on. He looked at the other two, they were clear as well, but dimmer, the eye must work within better proximity, Varos thought and glided down to them. Parshnes, he took a good guess as his mouth was not bleeding black pitch, he stared at the floor, muttering curses, Varos stared into his being and found a huge wealth of power, he wondered if the little creature even knew it was there. Babash too had an enormous store of power, more so than Matsma, but power Varos knew wasn’t everything, it was how you used it.

“Incredible.” He held his own hands out, they were very dim, even though before he had appeared very bright and clear, my energy must be next to gone, he thought, being host to Spritz must have drained my energies, I should probably rest… but what to do with them. He frowned at the prospect of sleeping while the three little demons stayed around him. More than likely, Spritz had ordered them not to leave his side. “I need to rest Matsma, you and your fellows don’t have to stay anymore.”

The little demon jumped, it’d been reading through a thick, leather bound tome and quickly shoved it back onto the shelf. It looked at him, then turned over the words carefully. “Good.” It said, then jumped down and ran over to the other two. “Up and gone!” He screamed so shrilly that Varos winced. When he opened his eyes, the only sign of the demons was a small pool of Babash’s blood on the floor.

“That was unexpected.” Varos sighed but retreated to his most proud invention. He stood carefully upon the platform and pulled a lever, it rose high up to the top of the tower to where the stairs could not reach. He looked around, everything was how he had left it, the bed looked inviting, he cast a half measured warmth spell over the sheets and stripped. The warm bed felt good to his strained body and quickly sleep overcame him, his dream was pleasant despite his weary mind, he thanked the gods for their respite and kindness and settled into it.

***********************************

I had a ton of fun writing this one, I think I just found my ultimate liking, little schitzophrenic demons! I hope those three will make a come back in later chapters!

What does everyone think? And don't be like Glory and ask me what I want you to say, thats just bad business Glory. tsk tsk.

the Demon

Hurray for a 9! I know it isn't perfect, far from it, though the dialogue amuses me every time I read it, haha!

Glad I actually got the likeness down! It is so very hard to come up with a convincing character who is based off of someone.

the Demon

All right ladies and gents, this hasn't been updated since January but I promise this new part will be a good one that I think most people will enjoy, its a bit of a break from the usual meanderings of my twisted mind. Its very fairie tale'ish, mainly because I've been reading a lot of them for school and as the habits extends, do as thou see.

I've introduced a new character, tell me what you think of it all, where you'd like the story to go, should I persue the new character or focus back onto Varos? I'm open to suggestions.

the Demon

P.s. Enjoy!

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The morning was cold and Varos stirred under the sheets, a terrible hunger burning inside him. The world was less changed that when he looked through the charm, though it remained securely in his forehead, the blurry energy vision as receded and the world seemed a bit more normal. A chill breeze blew through the room and he quickly got up to close the shutter. His world was so quiet, the noises from the busy village did not echo off his tower as they had in the past. That distant comfort was gone and with it the respect for the demon Spritz, who had led his pack of demons to consume them. He toiled over what he would do should he ever meet the demon again. It felt as if an hour had passed before he resided that he would act on his feelings at the time, should he ever encounter the being again.

Spritz had saved his life by giving its own, something he didn’t think sat well with most demons. He turned to a dresser and removed a clean pearl robe and some undergarments. When he was warm and in his kitchen he mixed himself a potion of herbs and instilled it with magical properties. He drank it with a sour face, for no magical potion tasted good. His energy returned slowly and his stomach felt full, for the next few days he went about cleaning and making himself more of the same potion until he was fully returned but his sight never fully returned. He could make out basic shapes but their details were always frustratingly blurred.

He tested his will by venturing out into the village, rotted foods stank the air, bleached bones littered the roads but there were no skulls to be found. There had been a great fire at the southern end of the town caused by the ruining of the metalworker’s shop. The empty homes were now filled with animals, foxes squirrels even a bear slept soundly on the heart within the scorched walls of a home.

Grief struck the mage so profoundly he couldn’t speak, so stricken with sadness he passed haplessly by a young girl rummaging for scraps of food. She jumped up and collided with the wall of a house the bear inside grunted and rolled onto its back. Varos stopped and turned to the noise. He could see the breathless girl in his strange blurred energy vision, her bright, youthful energy glowed brilliantly and he squinted his blackened eyes at her as if she were a small star. Varos’ mind told him she was real but he did not care he stared harshly at her as she offended him by being alive. His grief was so great he wished she weren’t alive so he could mourn properly.

“Who are you?” The little girl quivered, she into her late teens but she was physically small.

“Are you real?” Varos whimpered, tears streaked his face, the realization that she was indeed real struck him as hard as any club.

The two looked at each other, both equally frightened of the other. Varos waved her to come with him, not truly knowing why. He led her back to the tower and made the girl an herbal soup. The girl sipped it hesitantly, the taste offended her but it filled her stomach better than any stew. She thanked him highly and they sat in silence for a long time. They shared something sublime in those hours spent until the dusk, a mutual kinship formed in the silence a sense of comfortableness. “You’re the wizard my father traded with.” She finally spoke, a small hopeful grin parted her lips but Varos could not see it.

“I dealt with many from the village, what was his name?” His voice was hardly a dry whisper and the girl took a minute to understand what he said.

“Linus Kallar, I am Ruby Kallar, his daughter. He was an herbalist, he said you gave him too much silver for his wears because you said they were of a better quality than any you could find.”

Varos forced the memories into his mind he could see the older man handing him leather bounds of herbs and a little girl smiling to her friends behind him. In his mind she was a beautiful young woman, but he knew from her smell she must be in a terrible state and offered to draw her a bath which she accepted.

The rest of the night passed quickly, Varos sat in his favourite chair, a book tenderly held in his off hand. He listened to the girl sing in the tub from the floor above, her voice was shrill at first but after a while he became smooth and calming as the salts warmed and healed her body. Varos found himself listening to her singing not from his favourite chair but from within his mind, he had fallen asleep and sat listlessly at his fine oak desk, but no books sat on the table, he sat hunched over and alone, listening.


Days past, meals were eaten, hymns were hummed and sung. Varos spent much of his time reading his own mind in a weary haze. The girl, whose name he had forgotten, flipped through many of the books Varos owned, expanding her learning from the little teachings her father had given her. By the time Varos stood above her, glaring down at her for touching his things he asked: “How many of them have you read?” His dry, raspy voice growled, she quickly shut the book and replaced it.

“Not many, I have trouble reading. I only recognize the numbers easily but I hardly know what they mean.” Her voice was small and she shrank under his imposing stare.

“Would you learn if I taught you?” A shy smile spread across her face with an immense blush. She nodded her head quickly. “Then we shall begin. If you don’t understand it after we are finished, then at the very least you can help me gather ingredients and herbs and help me with my potions.”

And so the two healed one another in their companionship. The teachings lasted well into most nights, partially because Varos could not judge night and day and his full energy had returned, which was always enough to keep him awake for months without needing to sleep. Ruby absorbed all that he taught her, she helped him brew potions and went out and collected herbs while he napped during the day, it was a pleasant respite from the torrent of knowledge he was putting in her.

While out she practiced her magics, the first weeks yielded little result and she grew weary of learning the craft Varos had set before her. But one hot afternoon she produced a pool of water in the crook of a tree and it tasted of the purest blue. She took her learning in stride and always far from the detached mind of Varos who never left the tower, partly because she was afraid that he would scold her for using her magic more for disinterested play than for serious gain.


After a year of learning she was well learned and had finished an entire row of books on one of Varos’ shelves. Behind the tower she had dug a hole and began planting a herb that was hard to find and needed much shade and water to grow. So every day she replenished the well and seeded a motherly birch with puffy leaves that sipped with its roots from the pool. She loved the herb plant and often asked to sit outside and read, more to the plant than to herself, as if to teach it what she was learning.

Varos, while his connection with the girl never passed more than that of apprentice and teacher, he stayed, Ruby thought, intentionally disconnected and reprimanded her for spending so much time outside but held his tongue most days. She was a quick learner and heeded all that he said. She could weave magical food that tasted however he wished, the food changed with his mood and he could hardly imagine where she learned such a spell.

As the years went by the birch was now a proud and strong mother and the herb was steadily replenished by a trickling fountain and a small stream. Ruby had finally read once over all the books in the library and twice some of the ones she had read before. The knowledge consumed her with delight and put all her powers to practical use. Around the tower she had cleared and replanted much of the greenery around the tower, it became her playground and Varos, more distant than ever rarely removed himself from his private dwelling high in the tower.

One morning Ruby awoke, her eyes fluttering open to the soft light from the arcane chandelier. The tower was quiet, unusual for Varos was always up and around at the top making some kind of clatter. She made her way outside in her nightgown and gathered from her garden what she would need to make breakfast. When she had both her hands filled with the plants she noticed a parchment laying on the table. It was addressed to her, Varos had left the tower to her care if she wished. He did not say where he was going and the letter contained no magical properties to say otherwise. He gave no reason for his departure, except that he was going and would not be back for some time.

Ruby felt no desire to leave or to even find Varos. She hoped that in his travels he would find himself, but for her, tending to her studies and her garden meant the world to her. So in the tower she stayed and lived pleasantly alone. After a time, she managed to craft a homunculus from a willow whose seed was unwilling to grow. So the tree man kept her company, moving from plant to plant, knowing if one was getting too much sun and planting itself there until the plant was strong enough. She taught it how to summon water, but still it talked very little and went weeks without saying a word, even of simple recognition that she was there. Willow she named it, spent long hours alone and many of those were spent far from the garden on walks. She never followed him on his walks and after being around the treeman for a few years began to disdain and want for more.

She packed a bag fill with her special potions and enough herbs to refill the phials she had filled. It would last her a few months if she rationed it well enough. And so she sealed the tower and hid it within a magical shroud and left quietly, whispering goodbyes to all her little princes of the garden and found Willow sulking near an elm. It watched her approach and stood at attention, Ruby bent down and kissed him on the trunk and told him she was leaving and her master would return someday, maybe before her, maybe not, and that he was to give him no trouble.

And so she left, with a final goodbye to her new life she set out on the road to the village and from there she walked south. If someday she returned, she hoped to find her saviour and teacher and tell him of her journey. But until that time, there was much journeying to do, and the sun was still high in the sky, things looked bright.

I more or less needed that time to go by for some kind of mild manner of healing to take place in order for the tale to continue, also to develop my new character into someone capable of venturing out on her own. I'm basically just opening myself up for deviation. I like writing Varos character, he's very A-Typical of what I normally write aside from some major archetypal differences that should be clear enough. The new character gives me something soft to play with. I'll end up following Varos a while longer while I decide what to do with Ruby, I have a few ideas but for some reason I'm worried about geographical consistancy?? I'm strange yes.

the Demon

I think its time to dust this old ficiton off, though instead of following Varos, I think in my softness I'm going to plan out a lengthy piece for Ruby, for being a new character she's really warmed to me.

So with that, I'm off to write!

Just so everyone knows, Desert_Demon was my last account, I'm stealing this story for myself, this IS my story.

the Lion