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Karawan stumbled backward, gathering the vines up and into his body. He was slowly gaining composure, trying to get ahold of himself after his powers had gone so wild. His side was bleeding from where the vines that were touched by the metal reentered, the element tainting his body.

Karawan began to stutter and speak under his breath, as if lecturing "The su...sup-p-perior working of the W-w-woodcraft demands more from the body. A-ar-arborogenesis, or the willing of wood out of the b-b-body, is the most t-t-taxing, involving the actual molding of cells into wood element."

He grabbed his hands around his knees, the blood soaking his clothes. He took in what the other man was saying, that he should have learned better in magic school, that he should get a hold of himself.

"S-Self control?" He stood up, slightly out of breath, walking unsteadily toward the two other men. The metal surfaces of the hangar made Karawan weak in his present condition, and the blood wasn't stopping.

As Karawan reached the other two, he held out his hand, sending a thick vine toward the man's, whom he forgot had rescued him, neck, wrapping it around tightly. But he was so weak that the tendril shriveled up and died, falling limply to the ground. Still, Karawan continued.

"I am no student!" he shouted to the man. "I am a teacher at Duat's most premier university. I...I-I-I graduated a senior class at the age of 14 and graduated your nation's paltry graduate class ate age 17. I am a Vizier, you pomp-pomp-p..."

Karawan, completely void of energy, fell to the ground. Limp, pale, and bleeding.

The Vulture had finally slowed down when from ahead amid the clouds a ship practically materialized. Of course, it was just becoming visible amidst the concentrated water vapor (which now had spattered Robert's face with a light spray of mist), but that was beside the point. The ship ahead wasn't moving quite as fast (the dive was still carrying Robert ahead), so the wheel had to be torqued hard right to push the ship into a lurching maneuver that looked something like a leap towards the right. One of the mast arms nearly clipped the right side of the other ship.

The air resistance of the maneuver brought the Vulture level with the other vessel. It wasn't particularly visible through the mist, but it could still be seen well enough to see that there was nobody on deck. Not sure where the crew was, Robert pulled away a little, worried that the craft next to him might buck in the winds and hit him.

Karawan held out his hand, accepting the dirt. He held it in his hands, feeling a cold rush as roots sprang from the dirt and grew into a sappling a few inches high. He breathed a sigh of relief as the bleeding holes ceased, not clotted thanks to the purifying energy of the dirt man had given him.

His color began to return, and he sat up a bit stronger, although not leaning against the side of the ship; it was too soon to get close to metal. His throat was hoarse and although he was looking less pale, the loss of blood was still taxing. He looked at the other two, his eyes full of embarrassment, his loss of control over his magik showing a naïvete that Karawan fought so hard to hide. Not to mention his attempt to throttle someone who had risked life and limb to rescue him.

Feeling a sense of regret and remorse, Karawan stood up, the dirt in his hands. Offering it back to the man, the sappling now producing leaves, he bowed, stumbling a bit from lack of energy but managing not to fall.

"Sirs, I regret deeply my behavior." He placed the dirt in the other man's hand and stepped back, sitting on the floor, awaiting their response.

"Sometimes you just don't have time to think, though," Arilam replied to the pilot, holding the sapling in his hand. "Sometimes you have to be stupid to do the smart thing," he said, grinning. He took out his bag and slipped the dirt back into it, allowing the bud of the sapling to stick out the top, and placed it next to a window hatch.

"Now that I think about it, I don't know either of your names," Arilam said. "I figure since we're all going to Valhalla now, we might as well know about each other. For example," he said, looking at the captain. "What are you going to Valhalla to trade, and you," he said, looking at the boy. "Why the hell were you so high in the air anyway?"

{{Logged on to inform you that I will be unable to post until tomorrow afternoon. Sorry if this slows down the roleplay in anyway}}

Karawan looked at the Pilot who was standing in the doorway of the hanger and the other man, still standing near him. He carefully considered what he should tell them, how to negotiate this situation. As of this moment, it was impossible to change anything about his circumstances. The fact remained that the Vizieriat was contemplating war with Valhalla, rogue Metalcrafters had already launched fighters on Olympus, and he was stuck with two men he'd never met before in the belly of a metal ridden airship.

Karawan had never rode in an airship; he never had the need. The last time he'd left the continent he was sent a picture of a tree by the Royal School on Olympus, forced to study it for weeks, and then make the crossing. His own father had been working on tree bridge between Olympus, Duat, and Valhalla, connecting the three continents with magically conjured trees used for the crossing. Father, Karawan thought, you'll do anything to stay on the ground. Father...what would you think of all this?

He decided then to heed his master's words: Survival now, life as we can manage it. He couldn't waltz into Valhalla now, as a Vizier. No matter his position as a novice, the king would kill him just to send the message to the High Mage. Why did I claim that? How can I back out of it this time?

He raised his head, and turned to the man who had rescued him.

"Sir, I owe you another apology. It is true I'm a teacher of the Wood, a teacher..." Karawan paused. This was it. He could use his age to his advantage and appearance to his advantage. Convince these men he's a helpless boy, an overzealous user of the magik, hot-headed...talented, but inept. In need of their help and guidance, yes.

"...in training. I've entered my second year of training. And as for my lie of being a vizier, sir, I appologize most deeply." He bowed. "My father, he has trained me to, in danger, claim his title as my own...for protection. I am simply a student. A Young student."

He then bowed to the other man. "My name is Rihn." He bowed again, and thanked Gods for once forgotten imaginary friends from childhood.

The wind blows softly as the sun starts to set, brushing through the black hair of the young man xarus. the sleeves of his cloak belowing around his arms as he lowers his hood and two dark figures appear behind him their tattered cloaks shifting around their un moving bodies. the young man then crosses his arms acrosst his chest gripping his shoulders with his hand, then with one sharp movemet he swings them foreward and as he does the figures lunge foreward and disapear.

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(later in the day)

He stands from laying onhis back with his hands behind his head looking to the horrison slightly dimmed by his glasses he sighs ad steps back.

"It seems there was no news on my mission status."

he reaches to his side and opens the satchel bag and pulls out a newly rounded almost cilindric peice of wood and begins to chip and carve it.

All of a sudden, there was a faint voice coming from the village. "Zarina Bellatrix get over here this instant!!!" yelled the voice. Zarina grunted. "I'm coming, Rosalie!!!" she yelled back as she ran up the beach, jumped back up onto the pier and headed into the small village.

When she walked up to one of the houses, the door was open and a seemingly fragile old woman was standing in it, her grayish-white hair in a tight bun on her head. She was wearing a shawl that had water symbols threaded into it. "How many times must i tell you, you cannot show your powers here!!! if the dark army sees you, they'll take you away forever, and do who knows what!!!" scolded Rosalie with a harsh voice. "I'm sorry, Rosalie, i just..couldn't stay away from the water..." said Zarina as she glanced out in the direction of the beach once again. Rosalie reached up a hand and took Zarina's chin and made her face in her direction. "Whatever the circumstances are, we cannot let them know that we live here. We are the only ones left of this village, and to boot, we both have magikal elements. Remember, if you control the water and a dark army scout happens to see, it means death for the both of us!!" she added as she let go of her chin and headed inside, leaving Zarina speechless for a few moments. "yes, Rosalie..." muttered zarina quietly as she closed the door and leaned against the side of her house.