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At the camp and Left Behind
Response to On the Way home, Never a Restful Moment, Retrieval

Darkness had fallen over the desert, blacker than anything Vona had ever experienced, or so it seemed. She had grown up here on Eowyn, in this very desert, but she could swear that the nights had never been so dark as this night. She was grateful that her father had taught her how to light a simple , as it was all that stood between her and the still chill of the night and the desperate loneliness of the desert.

Vona had never been so alone in her life. Betty moaned softly nearby, resting. The kargoth was in pain, her injuries exacerbated by her racing charge. Vona worried for her, but could do little but clean the wound and bandage it - her magic was spent. She didn't know if the kargoth would be ready to travel in the morning. She didn't know if she would even make it home.

She was on the verge of crying as she stared at the fire and willed it to help her. But there was no help from the flames. She had only the stars and a wounded kargoth for company. No roommates, no friends, no parents... and no brother.

When Betty had stumbled in her charge, Vona had had her stop and she'd set up a rudimentary campsite, done what first aid she could, and waited. Her brother had fallen from the kargoth, but, as they had hurtled forward, she had seen his wings activate. He'd promised he'd catch up, and she wanted to believe him with all her heart. If his wings opened and worked, maybe he would have been okay. Maybe he had managed to fight off the Mara. Maybe he was just out of sight, a dark speck in the rest of the blackness all around.

But what if he wasn't? What if her baby brother had been killed by those Mara? What if his wings hadn't worked after all, and he'd been killed by the fall? There were a thousand what-ifs, and a thousand ways her little brother could die.

She had never felt she had to worry about him before. Oh, sure, she'd known he was a fighter, and part of a mercenary guild, and that he had all sorts of adventures – goodness, she'd even bragged about it to her friends! She'd never connected that job with actual danger - Not until today, when she had seen him fight and get injured.

She knew now that she could not understand his life. He wasn't the same little baby boy that she had carried around like a doll, changed his diapers, given him baths, or dressed up in dolly clothes. He wasn't the same boy that she had tormented and adored. He was grown up now. And, as the infinite time ticked by and it became more likely that he was dead, she wondered if maybe he would grow up no more.

A strange scraping sound broke the night's silence. She looked up, afraid and uncertain. Her homeland felt so unfamiliar and wrong at night, she wasn't sure what to expect. A monster? A warrior? Silhouetted by the faint and distantly diffusing light of the campfire, she could see a shape approaching. It moved slowly and, as it came closer, she could see that it was a hunched, humanoid, shape. She did nothing, only sat there and waited.

If it was danger; a mara or something worse; Vona knew she could do nothing. She didn't have a weapon – aside from her needles, which she knew would probably be useless against anything other than an overenthusiastic male orderite - and she couldn't do very much in a fight. She was a tailor damn it, not a warrior, and she didn't know what to do at the moment, except watch it vaguely as it came closer and hope that whatever it was wouldn't kill her.

As it came closer, the firelight reflected off of goggles and blue skin and a tired, eyeless face. A very familiar eyeless face.

Vona struggled to her feet. "Raemos?!" she almost didn't believe it. She rubbed her red, dry, tired eyes. It was him! "Raemos!" she exclaimed, running up to him and gathering him into a hug. He slumped against her, and she could feel his exhaustion like a physical thing.

"Hey... Vona." his voice was wispy like the wind.

"Your alive..." she said, holding him tight, "You're alive..." He did not respond and she held him away from her, concerned. He was breathing, but slowly and evenly, and his eyelids were closed. He was asleep. She smirked, her eyes stinging with the tears of her relief. “Dummy.” she murmured, as she dragged him over to the kargoth and propped him up, “Dummy, your not supposed to fall asleep standing up.” she said, wiping her eyes and grinning down at him. He was alive.

She dragged whatever he had been dragging to the camp and peered inside.

Mara heads.

“You dummy... you didn't have to...” she said, shaking her head and turning back to look at him, “You didn't have to do that...” When he woke up, she was going to tell him he was an overachieving moron. When he woke up, she was going to hug him very tightly.

She went over and found a light blanket to cover him, and put a full canteen of water at his side. She looked at him. He was so peaceful in sleep, though his exhaustion creased his face. He looked, now, much like the little boy she'd grown up with, the Rae of long ago. As she looked at him, she felt – for a moment - that she could protect him still. She knew though that that wasn't true.

Perhaps now was the time to face that silly incident of her childhood. Perhaps now it was time to properly learn how to fight, just a bit. She wanted to protect her baby brother, and that was the way to do it. When I get home... she thought, When I get home. she swallowed, And if Dad is still there. Which wasn't a certainty.

On that dreary thought, she lay down to sleep herself, and, powered by relief, was soon drifting in dreamlessness.

[A Mara]

Stampede

(The Healers Arrive)

"They attacked the Kargoth?!" Sonia said. She was shocked, her eyes huge in her normally faelike face. “I thought they only attacked magescans...”

"Yes, Ma." Raemos looked out of the door at the kargoth, sleeping in an uneasy pile of fur among the sand. "We nearly had a stampede. I cast a sleep spell on them... but it won't last long."

"Those... things... are getting bolder. This is a big problem, Rae... very big... Well, lets see the damage." she said, walking out of the door. Raemos followed her, looking around warily in case more mara came up. "Any idea why they hit it?"

"No. They just... did."

"Blah..." she ruffled through the kargoth's fur, "Well, she'll live."

"Oh, good." said Rae absently, squinting at a spot on the horizon.

"I don't think we should stay here though. I think we should take the herd and leave..." she said, thoughtfully, "But... Malle..."

"Ma... There's something coming..." he said, shading his gaze from the harsh desert light, "I think... its flying."

"Oh?" She looked up at the distant shape, "So there is!"

"Ma, go inside. I'll check it out"

"Oh? All right." she frowned at him, "What if its...?"

"I'll be fine." he said softly.

As she returned to the barn, he began to approach the figure, his sword loosened and ready, just in case.

As they drew closer to each other, though, he saw that it was a six-winged sillhouette. He relaxed, sheathing the sword completely and waving his arms. "Oi!" he called "Down here!" It was an Orderite.

The shape swooped in, and, he saw, was followed by two four-winged shapes. As it touched the ground, Raemos could see that it was the Orderite healer from Taliuma. His heart leapt with hope. "You kept your promise." he said quietly, offering a hand to shake, "Thank you."

"Well you and your sister did a good bit of work for us. We had to repay the favor. Sonia is a friend of mine as well..." he looked over Raemos's shoulder, "Is that where my patient is?"

Raemos nodded.

"All right, you olrariks!" the healer called up to the two Orderites above, "Land. We walk there."

Raemos walked with them, feeling as though his steps were lightened. Healers. Healers meant hope and life.

They were welcomed inside, and the healer was immedately led to Mallew's side.

Vona, who had not left her fathers's side more than maybe once or twice, had been booted from the room to let the healers work. She sat next to Raemos, staring at the tapestry as if she could burn a hole through it with her eyes.

Raemos found her hand and held it. "It's going to be okay." he said, smiling at her. Vona studied his face and, weakly, smiled back.

"I hope so." she said, "I hope so..."

The Diamond Duel

(And SEIGED!)

Raemos was not exactly unconcious as his father carried him away from the scene. He was not entirely conscious either - the pain in his stomach and the chill that spread though his body blotted out all but the steady, wind of his father's wings...

~~~~

Mallew was not exactly worried. Well, he was. He was worried, and scared, and confused. The only thing certain was that Raemos, the Oblivionite boy he'd raised with his wife in the place of his own son, was suffering from a nasty gut wound, and would have died if Mallew hadn't swooped in to save him.

Mallew had no question about why he'd rescued the boy - He would honestly have done that for anybody, despite his opinions to the contrary. It wasn't right to just leave someone to die at the hands of something that was the enemy of you both. You kill them yourself in battle, or in self defense: You don't just leave them. That said, Raemos was an ally. He was... sort of... family.

Mallew had been with the Guardians near the back, keeping an eye on the rear of the caravan, when he'd seen the riderless hastar run to them, foaming and bucking. Mallew thought he'd recognized it as the boys, and had flown to Raemos's post to check.

When the boy wasn't there - he'd apparently gone to deal with something by the side of the path - Mallew had, almost without thinking about it - gone to look for him.

When he'd seen Raemos fighting one of those Things, and had seen it hit him in the gut, he'd snapped.

He'd smashed it with his mace, diving in from a long way up to slam it away from the boy. He hit it again and again and, when he thought he could get away, he'd gathered the boy and gotten the hell out of there.

He flew to Sonia's - their - kargoth. "Sonia..." he began, holding Raemos out to her. She would know what to do.

"Is that?!" he saw her gasp, his daughter looking over her mother's shoulder in horror. "Rae! Oh gods! Is he...?"

"No." said Mallew, "He's alive..."

"Get him to the healers!" said Sonia. Mallew knew she was holding herself back from shrieking. He knew her so well. "Get him there! Now!"

All Mallew had needed was a direction.

~

By the time they reached Tukyere, Raemos felt more himself. The healers had worked on him, and he was no longer fatally wounded. The sight of the Guardian HQ was welcome, and they were processed promptly and set up in camps in and around the city, their livestock let to roam Guardian lands. Raemos and his troopmates made their reports, and he checked into the infirmary. He needed rest before he could be up and about, and for the first time in about a week, he could finally get that rest without worrying about home and kin...

~

It had been a few days of welcome rest, and Raemos was deemed ready to return to active duty. He organized his bunk, checking all the supplies, enjoying the luxury of taking his time.

Vona was in town redeeming the mara heads, and he looked forward to the result - not strictly because of the money. He wondered, idly, if they had enough heads to buy them out of debt. That would be a good thing, a silver lining to the stone cloud of the mara.

He'd been hearing troubling news - still more of the beings, pouring out from the Maralan penninsula, advancing to the coasts. He had heard rumors of boats, and attacks close to Taliuma. Talon and Selza had returned home to Soldul with a Guardian contingent, as had the Orderite mage Maever Sola (to Serenia) and the healer, Rasha Kelom (to the plane). Cearlan had remained on Sereneia to protect the farmland, as had others.

That left them with a somewhat reduced but trustworthy troop. Raemos wondered where he would be assigned to, now that he was fit for duty.

Suddenly, the emergency bell rang, loud and clear like a gong. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. MARA AT THE WALLS. ALL ABLE BODIED GUARDIANS REPORT TO THE TOWN CENTER, NOW!"

Mara attacking.

Seren's light... he thought, Its really happening....

He uttered a quick prayer as he made his way to the town center...

Desert Storm

Today, not a day after I used magic without a tome, I used magic yet again, fighting Kiandri dragons, no less. I am inexperienced and weak, but I was still able to not do terribly.

Of course, my ally Grrel was a sight to see, ferocious and predatory and gracefully destructive. The dragons were slain, though I am unsure of how three of them were killed - I was keeping track very meticulously, but suddenly things become a muted blur.

Grrel left me there with the orbs to return home on my own, but she also left me with a great burden on my mind. I had heard of the bond, and had seen a bonded khehora here and there from afar, but I had not realized how terrible it was.

It is slavery, cruel and simple, a slavery from which only death would free them. It is forced upon them in the egg, and they will never escape, their magic - their very souls - captive to another. They cannot have children, they cannot be people in any sense, their wills bound and broken by a spell they cannot command and a fate they cannot hope to choose.

What, then, does this mean for Maeron and Darke? Maeron is a good person, but what of other bonded, bound to masters cruel and unpleasant? They cannot choose their fate or their master, and are forced to be in this sad state for life.

Its terrible. Truly terrible.

...

I am exhausted. I'll practice the magic I discovered a little tomorrow, but it is nearing calving season for the kargoths so... I may be too busy. We shall see.

Happy Birthday

Response to the Mara Meta
123 Words

Raemos had survived. This surprised him. He thought himself – or had thought himself – to be fairly average, if not lesser, than his fellows. And yet, he had survived a battle and had done well in it - in a leadership role no less.

He was a Corporal now, in a battlefield promotion he had not been expecting, or had hoped for, and he was surprised to like it. He thought of himself as a follower, but the skills he needed for leading had appeared for him, as if they had always been there. He couldnt call it easy – most definitely not - but he had liked it, and he wanted to keep doing it.

Raemos lay back against his bunk, placing his arms behind his head and wincing slightly as the bandages on his side shifted, enjoying his time off-duty. The end of the siege had been a whole day ago, and already he had heard people talking about him. It gave him a thrill to hear them speak of his abilities on the battlefield, how – despite his youth – he had done well.

He didn't think of himself as a prodigy, nor had he ever wanted to be one – he had only ever wanted to be a normal little Orderite boy, a wish that he had known was impossible but felt further and further away with every dark spell he cast. It seemed, though, that 'prodigy' was on the lips of many of his colleagues, and what did that make him? A prodigal freak.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel particularly happy or sad about that designation. Tukyere, after all, was a city made up entirely of prodigal freaks. That means I fit in just fine. he thought almost, but not quite, bitterly.

“Raemos? Are you awake?”

Raemos turned over onto his side and looked at the door. “Yeah, Vona, I am.” he said, smiling warmly at his sister as she entered the room. He sat up, picking up his canteen to take a drink of water. She looked upset, subdued somehow, and he patted his injured side. “The healers say that I'll be fine in another day or so.”

“Are you sure?” she sat down on the bed next to him, fiddling with a package in her hands. “I mean, they sent you out last time, and you were barely healed and...”

Raemos placed a hand on hers, aware – as he always was and had been – of the striking difference in color values that his and his sister's skin had. His skin was so dark. So very dark. “Vona, I'll be fine. I'm pretty sturdy... Do you remember when that Sheron kicked me in the knee?” he said, willing her to remember it instead of the battles they had just been through. Their childhood had been pleasant, he felt, and the siege had not been. It would be good, he felt, to remind her that injuries were not always associated with war and pain and suffering, but also with childhood mishaps. “You laughed, and I was fine in a day, with mom's care. And that time I scraped my knee?” he could tell, by the distance in her expression, that she did remember, “Both times, I got hurt. Both times, I was fine.” he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, “This isn't really any different.”

He could see her biting her lip. “You cried both times, Rae.” she said, after some hesitation, her voice quiet.

“... And I'm tougher now.” he said. Of course she would remember how he cried. That wasn't what he wanted her to remember – it was actually kind of embarrassing that she did. “My point is, not to worry.”

“You're going to get injured again.”

He felt her hand tense under his and gently moved his away. “Yes. I am.” He could tell she was upset, and that she was going to say something else, and, afraid he wasn't going to have a good, manly, mature, and ultimately comforting answer for her, he changed the subject. “So.” he tapped the package, “Whats this?”

He saw her expression, brighten. “Oh!” she offered the package hurriedly to him, “Its your birthday present...”

“Oh?” he took it, inspecting it, “Should I open it?”

“Of course!” she said. Raemos smiled at her impatience – he preferred it – much preferred it – to her being upset.

He carefully opened the wrapping, taking his time just to annoy her. Finally, though, a fold of white cloth touched his fingertips. His eyes widened. “Goddess, Vona... This is soft!” And it was soft: like a Serenian summer breeze he thought, as he rolled the piece of revealed cloth between his fingers. “What is it?” he asked, taking it out and letting it unfold with an almost sinuous movement.

“Its a cape...” she said, and so it was – a glorious thing, strong yet filmy, with a slight bit of subtle embroidery in the center. He held it up to admire it, and saw that, with even the slightest movement, the cape moved as if blown by an invisible wind. It was beautiful. “I made it.”

“You made this, Vona?” he exclaimed, awed, letting it flow over his hands like water, “It's beautiful.”

“It's... my first attempt at using dragoncloth. It's a cape-of-the-gusts – with Ayrala magic in it. I thought you would like it, since you like white and all...”

“Oh, Vona...” he breathed, running his fingers over the embroidery – the guild emblem, he felt, along with a few stylized dragons and such – simple, but lovely. “It's magnificent.” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, “Simply magnificent.”

“Naw.” she said modestly, but he could tell she was pleased.

“Should I try it on, Vona?” he said, making to get up.

“Er!” she looked at him with alarm, “Not if you'll hurt yourself!”

“Nonsense. My side will be fine, unless you make me laugh too much.” he said joking. He stood up – and he did have to be careful about his side. Surely, though, modeling a cape for his sister was an acceptable level of strain. He was in his casual things – being off duty and resting – but he took out his Guardian brooch and, with a flourish, attached the cape. It settled around his shoulders, draping over him beautifully and just barely brushing the floor with its edge. “Well, do you like your handiwork, sister?”

She grinned. “You look very heroic.”

“It would be better with the uniform.” he said, taking it off and carefully folding it before setting it with the rest of his uniform. “It is a great gift,” he said, looking over to her, “Thank you.” He frowned – there was a dampness at her eyes. “What's wrong, Vona?” he asked, coming back over and sitting down.

“It's just...” she sniffled, “My baby brother's grown up... and fighting... and all...”

“Well, so has my big sister. You're making things with dragoncloth.” he said, giving her another kiss on the cheek. “I'm proud of you.”

She laughed. “I'm proud of you too.” she said, leaning on his shoulder, “I'm very proud.” And scared – he knew. He understood. He gave her a hug and knew there was nothing he could do about that.

[Vona Expert Stage]

IThe Package from Aevah
1245 Words

Raemos had been out salvaging with civilian volunteers and the militia and he had money jingling in his pocket from the stone-goods turn in that had been set up by the Tukyere government, such as it was. So, since he was out, about, and taking a break, he felt he might as well spend it.

The Tukyere marketplace felt only slightly affected by the seige. Raemos liked that about Tukyere; its resiliance in the face of all hardship. Siege, exile, hybrid hunters... no matter what the world threw at the city, it came back as strong as before.

He stopped by one of his favorite enchantment supply stalls and waved to the proprietors – a man who sold ingredients and his sister, who sold books and tomes. They man was younger than the woman, but they were both amber of skin and wizened and crinkled like parchment.

Whenever Raemos came to visit them, he had a hard time figuring out just what sort of people they were: they shared dark eyes and skin, but he could see their wing tattoos along the backs of their necks when they turned to get an item from the back. Then again, this was Tukyere, so gods only knew what blood had gone into them.

“Back again, are we?” cackled the woman, “What'll it be, boy? Books or goods?”

“Goods this time, madam.” he said graciously, smiling as her younger brother approached. Younger being relative, of course – both were at the least older than his father. “I take it you two are doing well?”

“Yes indeed, boy.” said the woman, “and you'd not believe the customers we've been getting.” she smirked at her brother, “Nothin' like a good war to get people wonderin' what they'd like to enchant, eh?”

“I suppose so.” Raemos said, looking over the wares, “I'll take a packet of inks – both types – and some loveless flowers and...” he stopped, hesitating, his hands over a nest of multicolored eggs. “These look fresh.”

“Aye.” said the man, “Them's fresh. Perfect for enchanting those basic things.”

Raemos nodded. He knew how to use them. “Yes. I will take the whole bunch of nine, please.”

“Sure, of course.” said the man, noting it down, “And ye'll be paying in coin or goods or credit...?”

“Coin.” Raemos showed the man his newly replenished money bag. “Now lets talk price...”

He haggled them down and left with his goods, carrying them carefully back to his quarters in the headquarters to pack them away.

He was in the process of doing so when a shadow fell over him. “Medrol?”
He looked up. “Lieutenant.” he said. Nohr Miris, his commanding officer, an Orderite/Dovaa had been promoted only a few days ago. The title suited her, and so would Captain. In due time, he figured, though he himself had been cheated of what he felt was his due time. “Is something the matter?”

“No, but theres a package for you. Real fancy.” she gestured brusquely for him to stand up, “Come with me and pick it up.”

He stood. “Yes sir.” he said, following her out to the mail area, where the Tukyere Guardian HQ kept it's members mail for sending or picking up.

“Here.” she said, shoving an ornately decorated package at him, “I signed for it, and as your CO I can do that, so don't you worry about that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Well?” she asked, her face twitching into a scowl, “Are you going to open it or what?”

“Er...”

“I want to know what you got sent. It's fancier than you deserve and it's from Ashen city, no postal return address, so I find that mighty suspicious.” She crossed her arms, “So open it.”

“Yes sir.” he said, sighing inwardly and dragging the thing to one of the indoor benches for better opening leverage. He wondered what it could be. A present from Vona? No... he thought, She always puts her name on it and she doesn't use this much fancy wrapping

He took out his beltknife and carefully undid the strings that held the package together. He could feel Lt. Miris looming over him as he did so, and tried to not let his hands shake at the scrutiny.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the contents, he opened the package, letting the fine paper and vellum wrapping fall away to reveal the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in his life.

“Wow.” said Lt. Miris, “That is some piece of armorcraft...”

He took out the sleek, shining breastplate from its cushioning and wrappings, holding it out to the light and watching it scintillate. He stroked its smooth surface with a finger. “What is this?” he said, awed. It felt like no other material that he had ever seen – it was more like shell than any metal or stone he knew of.

“It looks like pearl.” she said, “Here, theres more...” she held up a set of vials, some filled with water and the others with sand. Raemos could feel the magic radiating off of them like beacons. “What are these?” she said, scrutinizing them.

Raemos took them from her hands, his gaze glancing on a piece of paper. “Perhaps this will hold an explanation.” he said, picking it up and opening it.

It was a letter written in an elegant, arching hand on soft, fine-quality paper. His hands began to shake as he made his way down the page, stunned.

“What is it, Medrol?” asked Lt. Miris, watching him, “What's it say? Who's it from?”

“It's...” his voice failed him as he looked up at her, “It's from Lady Aevah Avi...”

“What?!” Lt. Miris grabbed the letter and read it, “Dragon's balls. It is.” She raised an eyebrow at him, “Why by the sands would she write to you?!”

Raemos took the letter back. “I... I don't know... She says she's been...” he swallowed, his heart racing, “She's been following my progress and wanted to... to reward me...”

“For the Mara or...?”

“I'm not sure...” said Raemos, a stupid grin beginning to form on his face, “I just... It had my name on it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The letter is addressed to me too...” Raemos shook his head, “I... I can't believe this..”

“So its not a mistake... does she know what you...” Lt. Miris trailed off, “You know what I mean, Probationary. Your sister lies about you, does she? To her pittering little friends?”

“No, she says it. Right here...” Raemos pointed to a section, “She... she knows what I am.”

“And she sent you this armor.”

“And lake sand and water...” Raemos stared at the letter. This was beyond even his wildest dreams, and it was real. A letter and package and gifts from Aevah Avi herself, to him. Him, the horrible abomination who deluded himself he could even compare to one of the pure children of Seren.

Nohr Miris looked at him for a moment, then gently repacked it. “I'd keep this to yourself, if I were you. Don't let anybody know where this is from. Do you understand?”

Raemos nodded. “I... understand, Lieutenant.” he said, carefully putting the package back together to put it back in his quarters. He would be writing his sister about this later.

“Good...” she stood up, “And congratulations.”

Crafting Solo: Incensed 2
Blacksmith Rank 1-> Rank 2
Created: 1x Iron Dagger → 2 dragon Souls

“Look, Rae, it's not so bad.” Selza said, watching as Raemos began to heat more of the iron in the blazing furnace, “At least you're not completely demoted, right?”

“Yes. being halfway demoted is better” he said, scowling, as the metal began to glow with heat, “Now, instead of a leader – which I was – I am a... a...” he turned the metal over with a violent twist, “glorified servant to Sargent Sterben...”

“I know you and my brother have philosophical...” she said it as if it was two different words, rolling it between her Taliuman accent with an almost reluctant intentionality, “differences and all, but it could be worse...” she smiled, “It could be with Sarge Miris!”

“How is that worse?” said Raemos, taking the metal out and placing it on the anvil, “I respect her far more than your brother, no offense to you, and she seems like a good soldier and a fine leader...”

“She is.” said Selza, clearly not offended in the slightest, “She's just, well, I've heard things.”

“Things... like?” Raemos raised his hammer, squinting to aim his first strike on this dagger.

“Oh, I heard that the last time she was given a probationary assistant thing – like what you are – she killed them in a duel. Apparently she doesn't work well with others when they're not in the strict full-rank structure...” Selza shrugged, “Or something.”

“... I see.” said Raemos, striking the metal, beginning to bash it flat, “Probably a good thing, then, that I was not assigned to her.” He could believe that she would kill others in a duel, or even that she would duel. She was a ferocious hybrid, and he respected her for it. “But then why not Cearlan?”

“Well, Cear's still in Serenia at the moment and, uh... He's kinda...” she hesitated, “Nevermind.”

“He's kind of what?” asked Raemos. Cearlan seemed like a good leader and a nice guy and Rae liked him. He would much prefer to be working for him than Talon Sterben.

“Well, uh, I've heard rumors. He's not the most professional guy in the guild.” she shifted awkwardly, “Thats all.”

“Huh.” Raemos frowned at the developing dagger, shaping it into something worthwhile.

“Yeah. A surprise and not at the same time, right?” she shrugged again, “Anyway, of our troop, I really think Talon's the best person for you to work under.”

“If Cearlan is still in Serenia...” -clang- “Why aren't you and the Sargent still on Soldul?” he asked, his hammer strikes almost as bitter as his words as he formed the dagger into shape, “Don't you have to help out Lord Draco...” he almost spat the name out, “there?” And be good warriors of darkness?

Selza raised an eyebrow. “Hey, don't take that tone with me, Rae. I don't care about Lord Draco or Soudana or anything like that. I was just there protecting people, you know, innocent people.” she raised her hands, palm up, “And we thought our help was more needed back here, okay? So here we are.”

He hammered at the dagger a bit longer before tossing it in the water and retrieving another one. “Right.” he said, trying to think of Oblivionites as 'innocent'. It was a lot easier to do now, he realized, than before. “Sorry.”

[Talon Sterben Portrait]

Crafting Solo: Cearlan's Return
Enchanter Rank 3-> Rank 4
Created: Shimmering Zephyr Cape

Raemos carefully etched ink patterns into the cape his sister had made for him, watching as they bloomed into a glow against the bright white of the soft fabric. He, however, was the one who felt like he was glowing, with pride and pure delight.

The fine sand that he used, mixed with crushed olrarik scales and enchanters ink, had been in the package he had received from Aevah Avi, along with water from the healing lakes and a magnificent piece of armor that he still could not believe was for him. It was so beautiful, and it had been given by a powerful woman that he had never dared hope to be worthy of even glimpsing in passing. And yet somehow, freak that he was, he had been deemed worthy of her attention, and had – moreover – been granted a boon.

Truly, he thought, humming happily to himself as the runes he was crafting began to take shape on the silken wind-magicked cloth, Seren is great and merciful.

He had been in this elevated mood for days. Even having to work with Talon Sterben, a man he felt was his nemesis, had been tolerable. Raemos had to admit that, for all his faults and his worship preferences, Sergent Sterben was a loyal and true Guardian. The tasks he was given were not too humiliating, and, though Raemos still disliked the man, being able to wear the gorgeous armor he had been sent, and to wear it with pride, made it mostly all better. It offset the distaste with an ecstatic sense of smugness that left his nerves tingling in its wake, and it had made Raemos's prayers to Seren every morning, noon, and night meaningful in ways he had never dared to hope for.

With the cape, he felt, it would be complete. As he worked in the final runes of light, protection, and hope, he imagined how the shimmering cape would look on him, flowing out behind his dark hair and the shimmering breastplate and the Guardian uniform. He shivered pleasantly at the idea, his eyelids half closing as he imagined how heroic he would look, how beautiful he would be.

He smiled. Mmm. Yes. he thought, imagining further how he would look as he slew hateful bandits and malicious monsters while wearing it. Beautiful. He would look beautiful and spectacular and heroic and amazing.

He swallowed and forced himself back to reality to finish the runes, setting them to glow and set into their enchantment with a practiced flick of magic. With that, he gathered up his supplies and left the cape to dry. He had been working in a room dedicated to crafts and, being the only person there, moved quickly to his bunk to store his supplies, not wanting the cape to be stolen or put away. Not all of the Guardians, he had learned, had finished their transformation into being completely honorable, and the HQ was open to the varied public.

He hurried back, opening the heavy wooden door and hoping – with some paranoia, since it had only been a few minutes – that his handiwork and his sister's present were still there.

He was startled to find someone there, in the room so previously empty, running their hands under the cloth of the cape. “Raemos, this is beautiful.” the figure turned, “Did you make this?”

Raemos was momentarily speechless, swooning, his chest contracting as he struggled to make words. “C-cearlan!” he exclaimed, swallowing, “I... No... I... When did you?”

“I just got back now.” said Cearlan, setting down the cape gently and flipping back his beautiful hair, revealing a fresh scar. Raemos felt a powerful regret that such a beautiful face could be touched or marred. Cearlan approached. “Anyway, did you make that?”

“N-no. The cape, no. The enchantment...” Raemos glanced at the shimmering runes, still strong, that flowed fluidly over the cape. “I... Yes.”

Cearlan laughed. “I thought so.” he said, “It's good. Your sister made the cape, I assume?”

Raemos nodded, noticing that, although Cearlan was close, he wasn't stopping.

“Mmm...” Suddenly Cearlan was very close. Raemos's breath slowed, almost stopping. He'd grown a bit, he realized, since the Mara attacks, and they were now the same height or therabouts. “I'll have to order something from her when I'm back in Ashen city. She does good work...”

Raemos could feel the warmth of Cearlan's skin. Too close he thought, backing away and finding the door behind him. Cearlan's hand pressed against the door as he leaned in, his face close to Rae's, and Rae's heart did a flip, then another as Cearlan's other hand stroked gently down his face. “Mmm...I missed you, you know. You make good company...” Raemos could feel the purr in Cearlan's voice. It was enough to turn his legs into jelly. “After you left to see your father, I kept thinking about you...” Cearlan's face drew closer, and Raemos, though he had apparently grown to match Cearlan in height, felt very small. “And now, I see that you are all grown up now...” the hand slipped to his neck, tracing the edge of Raemos's uniform, “Mara destroyer.” Cearlan laughed, that ringing laugh that made Raemos think about things he didn't usually think about offhand. The hand moved to his hair, knotting their fingers into his dreadlocks. “Seeing you now...” his lips were very close to Raemos's now, enough that his whispered words caressed Raemos's face. “Makes me want to...” Raemos's eyes widened. For a moment, thought and breath were not his own as lips - impossibly soft and warm - caressed his. Reasonless, he angled upwards into it, letting Cearlan press him close.

As Cearlan drew away a fraction, Raemos's eyes closed, savoring the soft feeling lingering on his lips. “Kiss you.” Cearlan whispered, his breath like a feather brushing gently across Raemos's face.

Before Raemos could reply or react in any way, the lips returned, a tongue coaxing his mouth open. Unable to resist, he let it, even as he felt the pressure of a hand drift to his hips and then, too far. Raemos yelped, pushing Cearlan gently away. “C... cearlan... wait...” he managed, gasping and flushed, “I...”

Cearlan drew back, amused, a single perfect eyebrow raised. “Hmm? You were enjoying it.”

It wasn't a question. “Y-yes, but...”

“And don't try to tell me you're not interested, Raemos.” Cearlan smirked, “I've seen the way you look at me...” he moved his lips closer again, “And don't tell me there's someone else. The only other person it could be is... hmmm..” he chuckled, “Lets just say, Rae, I know you too well...” His lips were close again, and Raemos wanted very much to have them back on his own. Instead he pushed Cearlan, gently.

“No, just... wait...”

“Well, what is it?”

“It's just...” Raemos struggled to make the words come out – words, his favorite thing, his reason for existing, felt solid and thick on his tingling tongue. “Dinner. First.”

Cearlan drew back, laughing vigorously. “Dinner?!” he exclaimed, “Dinner. Really.” he shook his head, “You really are a funny one, Raemos. It's actually kind of cute.” he said, backing away, his hand dropping from the door by Raemos's side. “Sure.” he said, his smirk self confident, “Tonight, then. I'll take you to dinner.” he waved, unable to keep from laughing, “Until then.” he said, leaving Rae breathless and leaning against the door for support.

In the quiet of the now very empty room, save for the cape, Raemos let himself slide down the door, a stringless puppet. He brought his hand to his lips, touching where they still tingled from Cearlan's kiss.

Wow.[/i[ he thought, Wow.

[Cearlan Portrait]