Fantasy Of Fire and Vengeance (LofiFairy x Greirat)

[LofiFairy]

It played out in three parts. First, it was her body slowly falling from the tall, dark cobblestoned tower. Above her tickled tendrils of flame from spells cast at her, to ensnare her. Second, the feeling of brush and branch as she ran from all she knew. Or thought she knew. Third, the selective amnesia of her past and full name. Only a single letter could she recall. "V". Now she was knee deep in freezing water to fight off the desire for rest. V had learned from the merchant's body she awoke to just a month before that only consciousness kept the beast at bay. The thing that lied within was anger and spite and craved only blood.

"This isn't enough. Need to be covered.." The exhausted woman mumbled to herself before sinking underneath until she was completely submerged. This was the only time the world felt quiet. And it was a fleeting moment because time was not her friend.

V stepped out of the river and hung her wet clothes on a branch with only her hooded, but thankfully long cowl to cover her bare body. She made a hopeless attempt to work out the knots in her curly brown hair but it was hopeless. Self care was a luxury she couldn't afford. And while she allowed the momentary fantasy of a warm bath the effects of the quick dip began to wear off. Paranoia sunk in which was a nasty side effect of insomnia. At this point she was on her third day without sleep and every rustle of a tree or snapping of a twig had her on edge. In hopes of quelling her growing anxiety she checked the perimeter runes she had carved to hide herself from the Circle's gaze. A trick she learned in a book.

"Can't stay long. They aren't easily fooled." V spoke aloud with only herself to listen. She had already been there a day too long and needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere, she hoped, with forageables. Sleep she could deal with but starvation was an entirely different beast.

Greirat

 

[Greirat]

"That is everything you need to know, Odeon" a voice reached at him from the dark of the chamber "And now we will hear your question -- and remember it is only one. Only one question" the mans voice stressed with a thick layer of annoyance coating it "Not two. Not three. Not several being asked at in quick succession".

"He understands" came an elderly woman's voice from that same darkness "Promptly now, hm?".

Odeon stood before the cabal of shadow-hidden figures. He stood in the mage-light which shown down from above a grate in the ceiling. The only time he could see anything - besides the chamber doors behind him - was when one of these pompous councilors sparked a match or lighter for their pipe. It was ever a dim window he would focus on with aloof hope to make out a detail. Any detail other than expensive robes or a stray glint of jewellery. Just something he could use to loosen the leash they have on him. Lady luck appeared to be looking elsewhere right now.

The cabals closer smirked a thin smirk at how he manged to make them banter between one another. If he couldn't attain anything useful about them then it was these small victories he'd cherish. It was something akin to a participation award. "Yes" the seeker breathed "one question of which I am grateful for." he cleared his throat "When I return with the mark and she is firmly in your grasp, may I please get a bird? I'll train it, I can-"

A small symphony of scoffs, groans and displeased words whispered between cabal members floated on the air like vapour. It took effort suppressing the joy on it brought to the hunters face.

"No! No pets!" a man hissed.
"You always waste these questions, boy!" said another.
"These are questions we allow you to ask! It is a privilege to be offered even one, you-"

"Regain your composure!" another voice boomed and resounded off the rounded walls of the chamber. Whenever this silver tongued voice slithered into the ears of anybody alive in this chamber all would listen. Especially the hunter. "Odeon, seconds wasted are minutes used against us. This particular mark, as previously stated, is of such importance that we cannot divulge more than we have already told you. If you bring her to us before dusk tomorrow..." the man went silent for a short spell, then continued "We will move you up two spots on our list then you can really reap the rewards of our best hunters".

"Aye, sir." the closer simply bowed before taking a few steps backwards and turning on a heel. His short and tattered cape flowed behind him as he hastily left the chamber.

The top three of the cabal's best hunters? That is better than having a few days of rest. It's better than a stressed pouch of gold struggling to keep its contents within the confinds of itself. It's one step closer to poisining the cabal's eyes with a blidning agent, and being but an annoying memory they stay awake thinking about.

Every lock has a key and this key has long, curly brown hair, wears Glasses. Is vigilant and sharp.

 

[LofiFairy]

By the time sun hit halfway in the horizon were clothes were nice and dry. As she slipped on each piece she tried not to think of the mud and gunk that never really came off but that she had no choice but to live with. Once again another luxury she took for granted. Her job as a librarian didn't win her any trophies but it provided basic commodities such as a room, three meals and a hot shower. How exactly V came to be a librarian in a tower of mages was still a mystery, though.

"No time to ponder. Need to move." Just as the cowl was removed from its place on a nearby branch a searing hot pain brought V to her knees. With palms press to her temples she pushed in hopes of relieving some pressure but the action was meaningless. But as quickly as the pain came it was gone all that quick. When she was able to regain composure and open her eyes the landscape was no longer familiar. Instead of the grassy clearing near the river it was replaced by a tall hill with a white tree at the top. "What is this." V spoke and her words seemed to echo as if sucked in by the world around. The edges of her vision glossed when two girls appeared underneath the branches ahead.

They were young, around 5, and blonde. The image of innocence. But where did they come from? And where was she? Answers to these questions would wait as the girls suddenly stopped playing and turned to face her. She was thankful they didn't attempt to close the distance given her condition but it pondered another question. Why could she not make out a face on either girl? It was true there was distance between them but not enough for not discernibly details. "REFLECT, RETURN, REMAIN!" These three words erupted through her thoughts and the pain she felt only moments ago had returned.

V clasped the sides of her head again and tried to breathe in. What was she seeing? What did it mean? "I-It hurts!" Her eyes began to swell with tears until finally the pain subsided and her surroundings returned to normal. But it would take some time to recover.

 

[Greirat]

The Cabal was a proactive bunch with an obsessive appetite for knowledge. Even with their hundreds of ears, mouths and thousands of eyes - sometimes they missed a spot of figurative dust on the figurative table. Metaphorically speaking. Through lines passed on a word or two might get tangled and twisted and lost. The word can be the difference between life and death. Hell, even a missing letter can be a drastic conversation changer.

You have laughter. Who doesn't want laughter in their life? It's a marvellous thing that can be a sweet end to a bitter day.
Now what if a sneaky, slithery, sly S slips in there. Well, now you have slaughter on your hands.

It is that S which Odeon hopes to find in his questioning of the guards who chased his mark. He's found himself redundancy after redundancy but it's not a bother as he expects as much. Guard after guard, same answer after same answer. It was at least an hour until he heard something different. One guard had specifically mentioned the "willow" trees below. Willow trees, as he knows, grow by water. Water. River.

The spindly appendages of frustration poked up his back like a looming spider. If the Cabal was better at their job they would have known willow tress were an important part of his briefing. Odeon's precious composure would not be marred by the incompetence of those who call themselves his masters. It isn't worth the stress. Not yet anyway.

The hunter has his missing word and takes to the tower where the woman sought refuge with gravity. That same guard accompanied him, playing out the chase though being unable to recall exactly where the woman jumped from. That little detail was Odeon's to figure out. Hazel eyes flicked left, right, up down - looking for anything that could help him better his accuracy but to no avail.

Reluctance, a sort of clairvoyant pain took over his expression.

"What's the matter, sir?" said the guard quizzically.

Odeon exhaled that same reluctance and glanced at the guard "Tell them.... tell them I looked really good doing it"

"Mm? Doing what sir- oh you jumped..."

Odeon lept from the tower with one hand on his hat and the other with fingers bent to channel his magic. A spell of weak telekinesis helped him plunge downwards and avoid the lesser problematic obstacles like branches. However the real obstacle was not shattering his ankles or knees upon landing. As gravity was quickly reuniting his boots with the ground he'd give his magic one big pulse to soften the impact.

Sand picked up, dead leaves scattered, and the river rippled just as his boots landed upon the riverbank sand for added cushion. While his bones were free of fractures, he was left winded and felt the air leave his lungs. Once he regained himself, and adjusted his precious hat, Mr.Vohl begun an analysis of his surroundings.

 

[LofiFairy]

The sun was creeping closer to the edges of the horizon and her body was sluggish to heal. With night nearing there was no choice but to push on and hope recovery sped up. As V took the first few steps Northeast she stumbled and fell against a tree. "Shit. My legs are so shaky..." Whatever shared occupancy with her body had an unusual way of restoring weakness and healing wounds but they seemed absent. Did it have something to do with the vision she had? Was the unwelcome resident the source? More answers she may never accept having. But the inquiry had to wait as day was fading fast. Using the trees to help walk, V proceeded forward as quickly as she could.

ow far could she get before stopping? What happened when she ran out of trees. "Like a forest could run out of tr-" A sudden gap in the landscape stole her last few letters. Maybe one of her powers was prophesizing the worst possible thing that could happen in that moment. What a terrible power that would be. But there was no alternative route so she just had to be careful and move with intent. Every step had to count.

With a reluctant sigh she let her hands slip off her wooded stabilizer and began a careful walk. It wasn't very far for someone with full functioning limbs but for someone who felt they'd melt in jelly at any moment, it was a trek. If this was going to go well she needed to stop focusing on distance and only think of the goal; a wide trunk adorned in leaves and moss. V hadn't gone far before the whizz of an arrow nearly missing her head knocked her to the ground with a thud. Bandits. One of the sole reasons to travel during the day but too much of the day was sacrificed to the vision. "Over here boys. We 'ave a live one." A bulky and hardened voice called obviously signaling the rest of the band.

Retreat was the only option but as hands began to grip grass and root a sharp tug on her cowl forced her back. Hateful green eyes bore through her own gaze and told her everything she needed to know about their intentions. Looking at this brown haired mess it was obvious there were no riches to have so only her body was of value. "You smell like old water and must. Not from a wealthy family I take it. Still usable." The man took a deep whiff causing her to wince. That's when V felt the familiar heat as the edges of her vision flashed black. It was going to happen again and maybe these men deserve punishment, but not this. "Please! You have to let me go!" The girl screamed into what she knew was uncaring and unrelenting listeners.

 

[Greirat]

A fleeing target was often a panicking target. A panicking target often makes mistakes. The mistakes are sometimes obvious to those on the hunt. But sometimes the environment enjoys a bit of sport - that sport being the concealment of clues. This bit of environmental flirtatiousness is what Odeon enjoys, it's the fuel in the engines which propels him closer and closer to his target.

The would normally be the case, but this time there are two hands and a face against him. Minutes passed and the only hint he found was a half hidden boot print in the shoulder of the river. It was hers but the water was quickly hiding the rest - the size, the sole, the direction. At the very least it gave him a general direction as to where he could point and say "that way" to his superiors. An intruder crept up on him in the form of a scene:

The cabal surrounding him in that umbral chamber. "Where is she?" one sneered.
"Well..." Odeon starts "I can certainly tell you where she isn't".

The phantom sounds of their hissing and groaning amused him for all of a second. That was when reality sent a jolt through his nervous system like lightning. It was a woman's voice -- thee woman's voice? -- malaise, exigency, strife. That generalized direction was significantly reduced to a traceable area, an old bandit haunt that has since been derelict. Maybe not, Odeon thought.

Hastened heels carried him across the soggy dirt and damp grass, past a thicket of near-dead shrubs, until spying the conflict no more than forty feet away. Bandits. The sight alone had his teeth clench down with disgust which was further exacerbated by their handling of the woman he'd heard less than twenty seconds ago. His eyes narrowed and neck craned forward as he realized her features. The features of his mark.

He had enough cover to conceal him wholly unless he were to deliberately make himself obvious. But stealth wasn't Odeon's style. Doing what they intended to do wasn't his style, either. Intimidation was more the sort of song he danced to. He smoothed his vest, adjusted his cape, and tugged his gloves before standing up.

And the song begun.

Casually, calmly, Odeon started his walk towards them. His hands had disappeared behind his back and concealed under his cape. His head was turning left and right, observing the forest around him acting as if the event before him went unnoticed. He'd wait for one of the miscreants to say something stupid or, what they might think, sounds oh-so fear inspiring.

 

[LofiFairy]

Scarred and callus hands gripped and dragged the unwilling girl towards the tree line where they planned her end. Unbeknownst to them was V’s slipping consciousness and the welling bloodthirst begging to end these men. She knew she had to do everything to keep awake and tried to thrash against their hold as much as possible. To them it looked like an attempt to flee but to her it was a fight to remain her.

“Gruff maybe we should-“One of the three scarred men began to spoke but stopped when he saw a stranger emerge from the bushes. “Take another step and your dead!” All three lackeys went into a defensive stance, still holding V, while their leader locked his gaze and remained calm. He eyed this new individual and gave a crooked smile. “Now you look worth something, stranger. I love finding my prey but I love even more when they come to me.” Gruff released his hold on the girl’s cowl – obviously not worried she would escape – and turned his full attention to the man.

Her head hit the ground with a hard thud and although painful it had cleared V’s senses so she could retain control even if it meant only minutes longer. But time was precious, and she was at a crossroads of: “Do I feel or do I plea”. Neither had worked up to now but giving up wasn’t an option so she began to fight against her captors once more.

 

[Greirat]

If Odeon's composure was made of anything less he'd display his emotions for all to see. The way these parasites carried themselves was past the barrier of irritating and ventured into something like provoking - poking the bear, as some phrase it. Then there was their handling of that woman, it was just so very... death-inviting. Somebody with an overactive imagination could picture a sign over their heads which might read *It is indeed a good day for me to die*. Her impact upon the cold ground almost made him wince.

The hunter slowed his steps to a stop and considered each crook "A weak man might wait for those who oppose him to reveal themselves" he started, wearing a menacingly calm look about him "fortunately enough for our city Mirova, I am not a weak man." his hand revealed itself from under his cape, grasping a trio of throwing knives "No..." he inhaled sharply "I find those who seek to harm Mirova, and I show them what power looks like". His hand held just above waist height with his palm up.

"The Circle mandates I ask for your cooperation in your arrest, though some how I think you will attempt to tread grounds your boots weren't designed for" he paused, then added "still... will you cooperate?"