Mallew brandished his mace, approaching the Khehora warily. "Stand back, boy." he said, "Its a wild Khehora." he summoned his wings, a display that had always awed Raemos and that served to make Mallew larger than he really was. "Shoo!" snarled Mallew, feinting at Suluksati, "Get outta here!" Raemos stared, first at his father, then at Suluksati. She was familiar, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"It doesn't seem all that threatening..." said Raemos, sheathing his sword and showing his empty hands to the Khehora, "Hello." he said, quietly, "I'm sorry, I have no food with me, but we do not mean you harm..."

"Don't talk to it, boy! Get away from it and behind me! This instant."

Raemos glanced back at his father. "Its fine, really it is. It did help us, after all."

"More like we helped it." growled Mallew, shoving Raemos aside to stand protectively over him, "Beat it" he growled at the Khehora, "Get out of here." he flared his three sets of wings threateningly, "Or I'll smash your skull in."

Suluksati drew herself up, puffing her feathers in a proud display. "And I thank you for assisting me, two leggers." Her tail lashed. At least the younger one - who was oddly familiar and had an unusual scent for the area that she couldn't quite put her claw on - was polite and respectful. The older one, presumably its guardian, was extremely rude however. And arrogant. Probably a dragon hunter. She growled. "However, You should not take that tone with me. I am very powerful and do not take kindly to being threatened." she leveled a ferociously proud gaze at Mallew, "I am not having a good day. Do not try me, Twolegger." she turned her attention back to Raemos, her crest still fluffed out and at attention, and huffed. "You, however, I thank for the help. It is fine that you do not have food, though polite for you to offer. I would not want to impose upon your limited supplies..." she gave the older orderite a sidelong glare, in part checking to see if he was still a threat and in part implying that she would take HIS food instead. She returned to scrutinizing Raemos. "Forgive me, Twolegger Ora, but Do I know you? Your scent is unusual and familiar..." she sniffed at him, "And why are you so covered? Are you injured?"

Mallew twitched, enraged. "Get away from him!" he snarled, his cheeks flushing as he swung at the Khehora with his mace. She flapped, jumping out of range, her teeth bared and crest at full.

"How dare you!" she snarled, crouching, "You would attack me so Unjustly?! When I have done nothing to you?" Her claws began to shine with magic, "And you call yourself a child of Seren?!" her tail lashed, "Then let Justice be done!" she snarled, charging, her wings flashing with light as she used them to leap over Raemos and onto his father. He was blinded by the light, covering his goggled sockets as the khehora blazed. What magic could do that? Kiandri? Not Peisio, certainly, or Ysali. And then he realized.
Aedaun.
The Khehora was an Aedaun, the clan of light. He watched, awestruck, as they clashed.

Mallew roared, matching the Khehora's own as he met her charge with his mace and his rage. She flashed, blinding him, as she tore at him with her claws. Suluksati had forgotten that he was an orderite. She was a wild creature, bound to a hopeless and frustrating quest and this man had gotten in her way. She bit at him, only to be blocked by the Mace. Mallew, bleeding and still dazzled by her light, swung at her again, and she felt it connect, her ribs screaming and bruising and breaking even as her magic shimmered through her body, repairing them. She sent magic at him, forming it into a ball of concentrated holy light before sending it searing out. It struck Mallew like a physical blow, but he was in his rage now, as wild as she was. He swung again, growling like an animal, and she retaliated with her tail, lashing out to push him aside as she came in with a pounce, talons out. He batted her claws aside, breaking her foot with his mace, and she limped out of range, circling, as her bones glowed with magic and knit together.

Raemos watched the fight as blood and feathers scattered on the ground. It was amazin to see how both became primal and deadly, less like people and more like forces of nature. He could see strain in both of them - they were fairly evenly matched.

They'll destroy each other he realized, one way or another, if I do not help, they will destroy each other. He winced as another blow was dealt, and retaliated. The forest floor became wet and dark with their blood.

Honestly, he wanted neither to die. Mallew was his father, and the Khehora... the khehora was beautiful and familiar and he knew that, whoever he or she was, he had liked her, or someone similar. He had to stop this fight before it took its deadly toll.

Raemos reached for his tome, opening it. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, limbering it from its awed paralysis. He took a deep breath. "LAFAHAZ GAOLEM!" he intoned, feeling the dark magic rise inside of him. The miasma came easily now, flowing from him to coil around the battlers like a serpent. It clung to the Khehora's feathers, devouring their light hungrily, and she was easily pushed aside by Mallew, who, staggering, stood over the khehora, mace raised. He was bleeding, but the ferocity in his eyes told Raemos that he was still capable of destruction. He shoved the magic with all of his will. The mist began to coil around his father, who slumped.

As the familiar Khehora panted, crippled by the mist, on the ground, Raemos grabbed his father's hand. "Come on, sir! Lets get out of here!" he said anxiously, tugging at Mallew. And, dazed by the fog the bezerker allowed himself to be led away.