Original Sin

" . . . . . . . . . Xivran."


The Demark reached above the fire, grabbing one of the poles that held a piece of venison in place. His eyes were elsewhere right now, almost as if gazing into the past. The talk of shards had brought up . . . less than pleasant memories.


"I hope you're not too picky about what you eat, there wasn't much to do with it."


He offered her the spit of meat


"I never got your name either."
 
Aryanna stirred slightly as she heard voices crawling in her head past her slumber. Who could possibly be talking like that in an inn? But then she remembered. She wasn't in an inn. She was in the middle of a forest and she had fallen asleep trying to recover. She laid perfectly still, listening to the voices. The elf, probably the one Aryanna had healed, referred to herself as the Shard of Arrogance. Could it be true? Was that the reason she felt so oddly compelled to save her? But the second voice confused her greatly. It was a man, except that judging by the conversation, they were strangers to say the least. Do I interrupt them, or just let them talk? Oh god, the post-healing treatment...She could just hear Hyacena yap about Aryann always forgetting the proper way to finish healing. She slowly opened her eyes and took her time sitting up. Sudden movements felt like a bad idea.


She no longer felt dizzy, which was good. But the sight of the man actually surprised her. She was used to seeing Demark men, as she had spent a considerable amount of time with them while pestering them about swordsmanship, but she hadn't thought that she would encounter one here. She raised her hands up to how that she meant no harm, and carefully stood up. "Well, isn't this nice? The Shard of Arrogance, a Demark by the name of...Xivran, was it? Who is apparently trustworthy enough to be informed of the identity of a shard." She didn't mean to sound so mean-spirited, but it was the way she always spoke. She looked at the elf and pointed to the vial she had left next to the canteen earlier. "You should take that before you eat, by the way. Oh, and I'm Aryanna or simply the "Blue Canary." Pleasure to meet you." She didn't quite feel like revealing herself as a Shard just yet. They would find out in due time if they were meant to. She smiled expectantly at the food, and tilted her head while looking at Xivran, silently asking permission to eat. She didn't want to impose on them, no matter how hungry she was.
 
(Lily, I owe you an apology. I messed up on which character of yours was which with my initial posting >.<)


Xivran's eyes narrowed into a glare briefly before he shook his head. This woman seemed to be the one responsible for healing the elf girl in front of him. In which case she had made his task much easier.


"Help yourself, there's plenty."


He stood up and walked to the edge of the hollow, where he had set what was left of his catch, prying off another large section of meat to roast for himself. He would be hospitable . . . for now. That didn't mean he trusted her. What were her motivations? Why was she here? They were questions that needed to be answered, and were more personable over a meal. He wouldn't mind finding out what had brought the elf girl out as well.
 
The repellant expression was obvious on the woman's face as she witnessed the man advance towards her with a fluttering arm. Oh dear, what did he want and why? He definitely wasn't from the boat, she'd taken careful measures by scrutinizing and making note of each passenger's defining traits in case of unforeseen circumstances. Speaking of which, she hadn't seen a single soul from that venture emerge from the cave yet- nor on the road ahead. A slight sense of concern washed over her face as she glanced back into the darkness for the last time. The feeling didn't last long though, for she was selfish woman and upon personally agreeing with that description, she left the cave and it's contents behind in a few slow strides.


The sun set her white garments and skin aglow like fire in the mist, her ruby collar and cuff embellishments reflecting their own red pillars into the horizon. She gazed into the sky, jaw slightly ajar, trying not to look interested in the being that was almost astride her. If his oblivious demeanor to her avoidance was a front for fallacy, than he would have much to regret. She plotted possible counterattacks as he entered within a few meters of her.


"Do I catch your intent, or do you catch my blade sir?" She spoke without directly looking at him, but kept tabs on him in her peripheral.


 
Noticing the repulsed look on the woman's face, Resmion stopped for a moment to think this out. For a few things were absolutely certain. First, this woman was not some clueless wanderer carrying a sword, a pistol and one heavy suitcase appearing to look somewhat wealthy. Whether she was wealthy or not was not truly important. Second and lastly, if the woman finds him as a threat, she could be a very experienced fighter. And if they do square off, the fight could be either person's game. Although Resmion was somewhat skilled with magic and fighting at close quarters with a sword, she could overpower him and possibly kill him. He had assumed that his hair and body still wet from swiming, the periodic drops of water had perhaps gave him away.


When it came down to the right, there was only one question, Is the person standing in front of me a friend or a foe. And it was a question that needed before blood is unnecessarily shed."Do not fear. I am not your enemy," Resmion started continuing to walking towards the woman until he was only only four steps away from her. "I am glad enough to have run into someone so soon." I am heading for the closest town, and assumed you were heading for the same place."
 

Do not fear. I am not your enemy, I am glad enough to have run into someone so soon. I am heading for the closest town, and assumed you were heading for the same place."





The woman's expression relaxed a little. The man did look a little lost for wear, and his hair was soaked. "You're correct stranger." She now looked at him directly. "And did you know where that was or were you looking for directions?" She assumed directions would be his answer, by the way he mentioned being glad to have run into someone. She carefully walked towards him, even his shorts were wet. "May I ask why it is you are dripping wet from head to toe?" She asked indifferently, not exactly opposed to having company on the long walk ahead. Although she'd rather not have someone incapable tagging along if any of the crooks hiding out in the woods were to show up, like the captain had mentioned. At this thought, she observed the man a little closer, he was quite handsome, possibly a siren. He wouldn't do well to try to charm his way to her, for she was cautious and always expected these kinds of advances, especially with her precious belongings on hand.
 
The oozing fluid from Sabin's head started to slowly congeal into a putrid-smelling jelly instead of clotting, the dead blood from the wound still flowed, but less quickly--like shoving a sponge in the crack of a dam. His spell was halfway complete as he clutched the knuckle bones tightly in his hand, charging them with the horrid necrotic energy.


As Qa'naro made an appearance the minotaur's facial expression immediately changed from annoyance almost to delight as his red eyes locked to the tiger Soulithe. With a sharp yank he swung the axe head away from the tree, it arced lazily over the minotaur's head before landing heavily behind him with a hard


THUNK





"A brotha! Come, we'll eat'm t'gethar, as our people did befur this 'civilized' crud!" The beastly fellow didn't even wait for Qa'naro's response, and simply assumed he would eagerly agree like the eight other bandits he had so easily persuaded. He even took his drawn weapon and bared teeth as signs of blood lust and excitement for battle. In his eyes, all Soulithe desired to destroy the humanoids just as much as he did.


Sabin's spell needed only one more chain of commands, walking calmly out from the left side of the tree he noticed the tiger, and gave him an emotionless stare--examining him as another potential threat...yet he seemed more focused on the minotaur at the moment. The minotaur's nostrils flared at the sight of the Iali as he swung the axe vertically at the necromancer, wanting to see him in half, but the weapon had enough air resistance for Sabin to take a few calculated steps toward the minotaur. He received a strike from the chain on his left shoulder, but the bone armor woven underneath his robes took the damage of the blow, cracking them--but not his own.


It was the first time the minotaur saw a human walk so simply toward him, usually they ran from him, or avoided him, but never would they come close. Especially in a battle situation. The mage's cold eyes didn't even show hostile intent as he walked in range for the curse, his hands swirling with the green-grey energy he had seen in the wall of bodies down the road. For the first time fear struck an icy dagger down his spine, but he attempted to shout angrily, "Y-you git back! YOU'LL REGRET IT!!" The minotaur flexed his right arm, gripping his weapon tightly, the reminder of his physical prowess pushing out the fear as quickly as it came.


By this time Sabin began. Putting his right arm specifically forward and his left hand, holding the knuckles, on his right elbow as he droned in the dead tongue. Nearby spirits were immediately disturbed and appeared in ethereal wrath around the dark mage, chomping their fleshless mouths on his arms. It looked as though they were viciously attacking him as he was trying to cast his spell. His face remained expressionless, but a barely noticeable unnatural grey-green glow began emanating his eyes. He drew a circle in the air with his right arm, intricately lacing runes in the circle's path with his pointer finger, uttering a word with each rune. As he completed the circle he ceased chanting and thrust his left hand into the circle, tossing the knuckle bones through it.


The ghosts released Sabin as their hollow screams echoed past the veil of life and death--the bones were suspended in mid-air within the circle. Then suddenly one shot forward of its accord and slammed into the chest of the minotaur. There were thirteen bones, and as the first hit and stuck onto his chest he became dizzy. In surprise and rage he tugged on his weapon to release it from the ground as the second hit, causing his arms to flail and the axe head to plop flat back onto the ground. In quick succession the bones charged at him one after another, and he became less and less aware of the world around him through his blurring vision and numbing limbs. As the tenth one landed he retched and leaned against a sidewall of the inn, the eleventh caused him to collapse. He struggled to get up, a hand clawing in the dark mage's direction as the twelfth caused him to convulse. The thirteenth hit and he was still, completely drained of his strength, barely even able to breathe.


Sabin stopped concentrating and the floating runes faded, the ghosts fled as he started to slowly walk to the exhausted Soulithe.
 
"Well, at least I won't have to worry about fighting her. She seems skilled with that sword," Resmion thought to himself. This woman did not look like the woman who would resist him. Siren may be pretty in the face, but looks are not everything AND they cannot get you everything you want. If the woman assumed he was a Siren, the story would be easier to tell. "Well I guess that is the cardinal question here," Resmion said laughing. He did pass by the boat at twice, and she might not have seen him. "To answer you first question: I am actually trying to find out where I am right now." "And now for your second and cardinal question: I am actually a Siren from Clonive. I left my sun-bathed home to see the world."
 
Arwen let out a soft smile, a smile that hadn't been seen for quite some time. Xivran, that was a nice name. "Well, nice to meet you, Xivran," she nodded, bowing her head after a few seconds to the Demark man. She watched him carefully and looked at the fire and then the meat, furrowing her eyebrows a tad. "I used to be, for us Elves typically only ate what came from the ground." she tilted her head, ripping a small piece for herself off from it. "But, when you go days without eating, you can't complain much anymore." Arwen turned to sit back down, and raised her eyes back up to the man, who mentioned about never getting her name as well. "Arwen."


The voice of another seemed to break the silence after her answer, causing Arwen to sit up in fright and nearly leap for her bow, something that was very involuntary for her and her own safety. Although, the woman seemed harmless, Arwen, being the Shard of Arrogance, really couldn't take any chances. "Pleasure.. to meet you too." she nodded a bit awkwardly, reaching for the vial and examining it closely. Lucky for her, the elf, just like many others, had used this in many treatments before. If it hadn't been for her Elven customs, Arwen easily could've thought it was poison of some sort. Downing it quickly, she set the bottle back down and successfully ate the piece she ripped off from the spit, eyeing the woman that literally came out of nowhere. "I wanted to thank you for.. saving me."


-


Qa'naro narrowed his beady eyes at his blood brother, who changed his ugly appearance rather quickly at the show of his own, waddling over and offering to dine on the young-looking Iali who didn't appear to be in a very well state himself. "You don't understand you dim wit," the tiger hissed, gums flaring at the beast for being so nonchalant about the situation, "Scum like you give Soulithe a bad name!" He raised his paw, sword in hand just about to jump into the brawl like it was his own. "In that hard-head of yours, you ain't got nothin' but a damn pea."


Qa'naro hobbled his built self down the wooden steps of the inn and towards the large Minotaur, keeping his cat eyes on the beast as anger built up inside him. But, he stopped. His blood brother wasn't focused on him anymore, for his nostrils flared at the sight of the Iali gentlemen once more. "Oi!" the tiger called, doing his best to draw the dim-wit away from him to finish this brawl and get on with his day. He had other things to do other than get involved in a non-related battle. But, his attempts failed, for the axe was thrown and a sickening crack could be heard as plain as day. Qa'naro flinched when hearing such a thing, just hoping it was the armor under the boy's robe while he stood his ground. Afterwards, it was a chaotic scene, the Iali gentlemen getting his magic on with some bones to take the obnoxious Minotaur down and finally teach him a lesson. Qa'naro was somewhat relieved, for he didn't have to do it himself with his own sword. "Hey," the tiger called, hoping he could get an answer from the boy who walked towards his blood brother, who lay still on the ground after a few massive hits.
 
Arwen . . . The name evoked an image in his mind. The night sky of the desert, with a full moon shining over the sands, though he could not place why. He walked back over to the fire, setting another spit of meat for himself. He decided to listen first, he could ask the Siren about her motives once things had calmed a bit.
 
"Well I guess that is the cardinal question here," the man before her laughed as he continued, “To answer you first question: I am actually trying to find out where I am right now. And now for your second and cardinal question: I am actually a Siren from Clonive. I left my sun-bathed home to see the world."


“I see” She responded, accepting his explanation. “Well you are definitely not in Clonive dear lad, you are in Rabana, and I suppose I wouldn’t argue in having you as my companion for the short journey to the town. That is if you find me agreeable.” She liked how this man was upfront with his explanation, no secrets, and even if there had been- they wouldn’t have gotten past her. She picked her suitcase up and began walking down the path, “Although if not, I admit that you will have to find your own way; for I offer you a direction in exchange for your conversation to ease my current despondency.” She smiled lightly at the lost siren, trying to ignore the fact that she was the only one who left that cave alive. She was also considering having a drink when she got to town, and it would be pleasant not to sit alone even though she found it close to as pleasant simply because she was drinking. Her black, multi-buckled leather boots made four effective tracks in the dirt when she looked over her shoulder, awaiting an answer from the man.


(The blank is because I’m not sure what nation everyone is on. When I find out I’ll edit. ^-^)


 
(That is understandable. I don't really know where everyone is either. :) )


"I suppose I wouldn't argue in having you as my companion for the short journey to the town. That is if you find me agreeable.”


Resmion was pretty relieved to hear that. "I would be more than happy to travel alongside you," Resmion said catching up with her, taking a good look at her suitcase. "Wherever are my manners, my lady? I have forgotten to introduce myself, seeing as I'll be travelling with you for a day or two." "My name is Resmion Auveille," he said offering for the woman to shake his hand. "This is inconceivable, though," Resmion thought to himself. "Most people, regardless of our race would not have hesitated to behead us in public. She is not like the rest." Resmion's closest friend, Cylen would have said that about the woman if he had met her. And he would have been absolutely right.
 
Aryanna smiled as she sat by the fire and carefully ripped off an adequate amount of meat to eat. "You are most welcome. It was the least I could do given the situation." She smirked cheekily before going back to her food. She realized that the two were rather wary of her, but she didn't blame them. It would have actually been really stupid of them to trust her just because she had treated Arwen. Still, the Shard of Arrogance...How curious. She allowed herself to relax by the warmth of the fire and the taste of the meat. It had been a while since she had a meal out in the open like this, and definitely the first time she had done so with company. So she decided to remain silent and glanced up at Arwen and Xivran from time to time. She had so many questions in her head, mainly about their destination, but she felt that asking such things would only increase their suspicion of her. She sighed quietly and smiled at Xivran. "Thank you for the food, by the way. It's delicious."





She finished her portion of the meat rather quickly, highly aware that people were rather vulnerable to sudden attacks when eating. She pulled her knees up to her chest under her cloak and silently watched the fire, waiting for someone to make conversation.
 
"I didn't do anything special to it. Just a deer I found in the forest."


She didn't seem to be opening into conversation much. The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable period of time. Xivran took in a deep breath, he might as well start somewhere.


"Aryanna, do you mind if I ask how you came to be here?"
 
Aryanna looked up from the fire to face Xivran, except that he looked like a blob of dark from her staring at the fire for too long. She blinked a few times before shrugging. "I don't mind. I guess I do owe some sort of explanation." She cleared her throat and thought of the best way to explain without revealing too much information. "Well, I was off to a nearby town, except that the merchant I got directions from wasn't clear enough. So basically I got lost and thirsty, and I tried to trace the biggest source of water, and I found the little canteen and Arwen here." She cleared her throat again, slightly embarrassed that she had gotten lost, but quickly recovered. "Anyway, where exactly are we?" She really needed to get to a town as soon as possible to find out about possible Hunters and other dangers. Perhaps she would need to get away from them as well. Two Shards traveling together...Not a good idea.
 
"In the middle of a forest. It's been five days since I left the last town in a random direction."


He ripped a hunk of venison off, swallowing it before continuing.


"So, to be blunt, I don't know or truly care."
 
Arwen sat in complete silence when listening to the other two speak, the Demark man asking a few short questions and the Siren woman going on about how she lost her way and then found herself here. It was all a blur for the Elf who gazed into the fiery hell before her, nibbling on pieces of well-cooked venison which was something that tasted very well to her for once. "Oh," she perked her head up when hearing about the nearest town, knowing it was a perfect cue to speak. "Rabana." she said, turning her thin body in the direction that was very natural for her. "It's in that direction. I was headed towards it before.." she paused, glancing down at her leg and running a thin finger over the area of where her wound had been. "Before.. I was ambushed by a group of Hunters. Demark men.. just like you, Xivran." she continued on, voice diminishing after a few seconds. "I killed every single one of them and passed out from using too much magic.."
 
Hunters. The bane of this world. Xivran eyed Arwen as she glanced into the fire.


"Strange coincidence. I had to leave the previous town for similar reasons."


Three hunters killed in broad daylight . . . the guard tried to jump on him the instant he saw the scene. Tried.


"You fainted from using too much magic? I imagine it was a powerful spell, and truthfully my knowledge of magic is quite limited, but what could drain that much power?"
 
“Resmion Auveille.” She repeated his name. “Well pleasure Mister Auveille”, she grasped his outstretched hand with a surprising firmness from her delicate, blood-drained fingers. “My name is Bayonette and I’m pleased you’ve accepted my offer”. She smiled lightly, tucking her hand back in her dress pocket while they proceeded. It was probably best not to reveal her last name whilst so many from her nation still resented her for abandoning her family duties. “So tell me, you didn’t swim the entire way did you?” She arched her brow in light-hearted question.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A drab but pleasant border town it seemed for the long-legged elf who sat perched upon his horse like a hat too big for its wearer while they strutted down the town center together. He was scanning the people and the places with a pair of investigative icy blue irises—paying particular attention to the items each person was carrying. There were plenty of weapons including axes, bows, swords, a few guns, but none that really stood out or had any note-worthy magical presence. Most traverse inhabitants were eating, or drinking, two were playing a pair of homemade instruments at the foot of an inn. Still, nothing stood out in particular, except for the aroma of sweet rolls, as the elf yawned lazily at the setting.


The wheel of his wagon hit a stump, causing his steed to rear and whine a bit at the sudden pull.


“Come now Anira,” He addressed her, patting her firm white neck as he steered her off the road towards a nearby saloon. He motioned for her to stop and swung his long leg over her rump. There wasn’t much of a difference in height once he stepped to the ground, making the poor horse look like a pony beside him. He took the brown straps of her harness and secured them to a wooden been, but when he turned to leave for the entrance, she stomped her hoof in disapproval.


“Come now, I’ll only be a moment”, the elf turned back slightly to reason with her. He took another step of leave and she stomped again, this time adding a hotty snort.


“Ha-ha” he gave a chortle at her stubbornness and walked back. Drawing back the tarp on the wagon, he retrieved a long carrot with the green stalk still attached.


“Here, you spoiled flea-bag” He smirked in amusement as she took the snack and disconcerted herself with her rider. He shook his head, smile briefly lingering as he hopped over the three steps at the threshold. The wooden flooring creaked under the feet of the limber elf as he strolled passed tables with plumes of smoke rising in the air past his crinkled nose.


 
"I am glad that you will let me travel with you, Bayonette," Resmion said smiling. Resmion would have licked his hand to taste the blood to slick his lust, but it would not appear to be appropriate in front of Bayonette, so he left as he had nothing to clean it with at the moment. "Well it must disturbing talking to someone while they're under-dressed," Resmion remembering he could not just travel about in just a pair of black shorts. He then reached into his satchel and put on a black shirt that covered half of his upper body along with some long with sleeves. He then put on a dark blue mantle. "There. That should do for now." "And to answer your question, I actually did swim all the way from Clonive to get here. People have a trust issue with Sirens as some of us were not able to control their impulses and hurt others in the process of slicking their lust in the past. In fact, very few would even welcome a Siren on their ship. Nowadays, Sirens don't even leave Clonive, and I am the first to leave since Clonive was created."
 
Smoke wafted lazily around Caiside as she sipped her beer, flicking her black curls over her shoulder. The heavy scent of sweat and alcohol polluted the air, and all she could hear were jeers and shouts as others bickered back and forth with one another. Most of them were elves, with light hair and fair skin, wearing white robes of silk. Caiside was a elf heritage as well, yet stood out with her dark waves of hair and icy blue eyes. She saw no need to match everyone else if she was not going to speak to any of them in any way, and proved that by wearing black and carrying a bow and a sheath of arrows with her at all times. Most stayed away from her, which is the way she preferred it.


Tilting her head back, Caiside took another swig, finishing off the last of her beer and slamming the mug on the table, standing up and tossing aside a few gold pieces. They clattered noisily on the wood as Caiside swung her bow and arrows over her shoulder, pursing her lips as she slipped past people, gagging on the heavy smoke around her. She could barely see a few feet in front of her, and the laughter around her was clogging her thoughts. She hated loud places, yet this was all she was able to afford, considering she was jobless and living off of small jobs she did around town. That was barely enough to give her a daily meal, but she was surviving.


"Hey girlie!" Caiside sighed, closing her eyes and wanting to bang her head against a wall. Not him again... she thought to herself, turning to face the foolish young elf. He held a mug of beer in his hands, and was obviously drunk by the way he was swaying side to side in dizzying circles. "Watcha up to?" he said with a crooked grin, stumbling forward. Caiside stepped aside, watching him as he slammed face first into a wall, looking dazed for a moment before turning to face her again. She tensed, watching him with cautious eyes, one hand on the hilt of her knife hidden underneath her cloak.


((sorry it sucks >.< was blank on ideas))
 
It appeared his spell had been quite effective, that old tome he'd snatched it from was pretty vague so he had to splice in some of his own ideas. However, the curse had not exactly taken the effect that the tome had described. The record had hinted at bursting blood vessels, blindness, paralysis, flesh rot..."Perhaps I missed something." He replied to his thought aloud.


The Soulithe that had appeared from the inn now addressed him, surprisingly, he had almost prepared a bone or two for him as well. At the slightest possibility he was not hostile he wouldn't balk at the opportunity to conserve and regenerate his mana. As he thought about his personal needs the repercussions of the gash in his head seemed to take more effect. His body moved more sluggishly with the lack of fluids, but the blood had ceased to flow from him so quickly.


He gave Qa'naro a curt glance as he walked past the tiger Soulithe towards the minotaur. The look in his eyes almost seemed to say: "I'll be with you in a moment." As though he were waiting in line for something.


Coming up beside the minotaur the mage knelt down and peered unblinkingly into the eyes of the dazed Soulithe. After a few moments of silence he blinked once, "No, I cannot use your skull, you...have a misshapen head." Taking his black hammer from his waist he knocked it once against its horns, it made a soft noise, indicative of calcium deprivation--his muscles were strong, but his bones were soft and weak. He shook his head simply, deciding the specimen wasn't worth expending any more energy, replacing the hammer back to his belt.


Standing slowly he turned his head to gaze at Qa'naro, giving his complete attention as he, with seeming rudeness,"What is your interest to my time?" His intent wasn't to offend, but he was very straight-forward and brutally honest.


He then slowly looked at the inn, then down the road, and back at Qa'naro. Now that he was examining him closely, he found he would be far more useful then the other Soulithe if he were made into a revenant. He looked to be in good health and physical condition.
 
(Hey guys, sorry, my Internet is acting up so I won't be able to post for a while. I can use school wifi, but my iPod keeps crashing when I type too much. My character can just tag along, but I should get Internet back by Monday. Sorry again!)
 
"Impressive to say the least." Bayonette responded, thinking that if he could swim that far in the harsh ocean, than perhaps he wouldn't put her to shame in battle. "And I do not find your lack of clothing appalling but do what pleases you." She added as he pulled cloths on over his slick frame.


Listening to his story about Siren culture and Clonive, Bay couldn't help but think about her own home nation in parallel. "It's a shame to have to stay in one place for an entire lifetime. You wouldn't think it, but it's always those closest to you, your family, that seem to think you have an obligation to live out your life the same manner as they did. Tying you down and leaving you to wallow in what they left behind." She winced at the underlying truth in her own words. Her mind was miles away so she didn't catch herself when she stumbled on a small rock sticking out of the path.


 
"Thank you. But you shouldn't be surprised. Sirens are in fact, impressive swimmers," Resmion said with a smile creaking on his face. Seeing her stumble on a little, he rushed over to Bayonette's side and helped her quickly, brushing off and visible dirt while carefully trying to knock off her person. "You seemed to be at another place at the moment. Are you alright?," Resmion asked, concerned for her well being. In his mind, leaving Clonive he thought would have been the hugest mistake he had made as his father told him as his father was one of the many who had never set foot out of Clonive. However, Resmion was not so frightened by his father's words, and here he is now going on his own adventure. Everyone who had come to see him off looked and waved with a smile. Some of his best friends shed some tears. Even his sword master Nora, shed tears of joy. "Well enough about me. What about you? What was your life like?, Resmion asked Bayonette, amazingly curious.
 
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