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Matthias
Matthias felt relief and surprise. He was relieved that the relay team had returned safely, their mission a success. He was surprised by this relief. True, he expected to be glad that they were unharmed, relatively. But he didn’t realize how glad he’d be. He didn’t expect it to well up in him so strongly, or so suddenly. Matthias would have to reflect on these emotions later. For now, he had business with a sword, and the smattering of crackling creatures that had not taken the bait, pressing in on the ground group that remained... Until they weren’t.

When Matthias first saw the woman, his first thought was to warn her. Get back!, he thought. When he saw what she did, Matthias had a second thought. I don’t trust you. He skipped from relief that the monsters were defeated, through gratitude toward the woman who had defeated them, landing all the way into mistrust of the way in which she had done it. There his mind landed, and there it stayed.

Matthias stepped forward beside Aldaf. He too had questions. Witch, whispered his paranoid mind. True enough. Her magic was unlike anything Matthias, or the rest of them, judging by some of their reactions, had ever seen. Not only that, but whatever sorcery it was, was the same kind that animated and compelled the skeletal beasts. At the very least, it was similar enough to affect them in ways their weapons could not. Then there was the matter of what she’d said. She’d found them? Did she mean all of them? Did she know something about their lost year? Matthias had plenty to say, but instead offered only a few words.

”Speak quickly.”

He allowed his hand, hovering over the hilt of his sheathed sword, to speak for him.


 
“Really, you don’t need to thank me, you don’t owe me anything... although I suppose I could use your help with something later...” She said to Zeke, scratching and rubbing her chin like she had an imaginary beard.

Which immediately stopped when that godsforsaken idiot Caliban ran up with a bag and shirtless, which Katja was definitely not staring at, nope, no, not at all. She watched as he turned and flew away on Nerene, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that

Katja looked up when the mystery woman appeared and she squealed, jumping to her feet, digging her arm into the bag that Caliban, hoping to find something useful.

“Stay back, mystery woman! I have a...” she pulled her hand out of the bag, and gazed dismally at the item she had retrieved before feigning bravado and adding, “... hairbrush! And I am NOT afraid to use it!”

Barran flew towards the scene with Katja, finding herself coming upon a very unwelcome sight- the stork drake was eating her kill! Aw HELL NO.
She landed with a loud thud in front of the creature, sharp yellow eyes angrily narrowed. She looked just plain offended for a moment before she fluffed out her feathers to full intimidation mode and threw her beak open, unleashing and ear-splitting shriek that sounded like the gates of hell had just been opened.

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Aldaf turned and registered Zeke, remembering the fact he saw him pretty injured before they flew off. He abandoned his stoic pose and moved to Zeke.

"Ohmygod Zeke are you alright I saw you in the battle and you were injured and-" Aldaf threw his arms around Zeke's neck lightly, keeping his bleeding arm wound from dripping on Zeke.

Aldaf turned back to the woman. "We need answers, ma'am." He held Zeke's shoulder a little tightly as the strength in his body started to give way.

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The race was exhilarating. Never before had Gerel felt so close to death. With each second that passed the barbs and spines of skeletal dragons threatened to pierce his skin and taste flesh. Just ahead was a cave half-submerged in water. With rocks to watch out for and pervading darkness shrouding their sight, Gerel could only laugh. It felt like everyday was a day to die ever since they first woke up together in that tent.

Marylka nearly missed the rod, but thankfully Archimedes pulled off a tricky maneuver to grab it. Finally they were inside the cave, skimming over the water and weaving through the stone jutting from below and above the cave. Suddenly, in a flash, the light behind them vanished in a cave-in. The entire tunnel began rumbling, rocks and dust falling on the skeletal dragons, crushing them underneath. If they weren't fast enough, the Firebrands would meet the same fate.

"Out of the cave! Now!"

Gerel latched onto those words and pushed himself farther. He stayed in tight formation with the others, rushing and flying and dodging every death flag until they finally got out. He let out a whoop of relief, but the trouble wasn't over yet. There, back at the camp, swarms of dragons were pressing into the rest of their companions. He could see them fighting back valiantly, but inch by inch they were giving ground. Without waiting for the others, he rushed towards them with knife drawn.

Then out of nowhere a pulse of purple energy burst from the midst of his companions, and every beast it touched fell to the ground, still and dead. In his mind, purple meant danger, and someone wielding that magic couldn't be trusted, even if that person helped them out of a dire situation. He landed in their midst just as the stranger took off their hood.

Several was immediately suspicious of her. Some wanted to hear her out. Gerel was on the fence about it all. He held back, waiting to see what would happen.

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Ezekiel was alarmed at the faint sight of glowing light in the distance. He got up in a hurry. He suddenly lost his balance, but he was quickly caught by Azurine. Ezekiel held onto his horns for support and Azurine gently guided Zeke over to his back. Zeke gave him a silent thanks as he felt a tingly feeling build up inside of him. It must be the side effects of the Phoenix Tears. Zeke took a deep breath before standing up straight, ignoring the blissful feeling in his heart that was urging him to smile, but this was no smiling manner. He just experienced a near-death experience and it will surely keep him up at night.

Soon, his other companions arrived, surprisingly in one piece. Zeke raised his eyebrows at this and he still clung on Azurine’s feathered neck, subconsciously patting it. There are still some other creatures left to be taken care of and Zeke took his throwing dagger for the first time and danced his fingers with it, looking for a target. However, the creatures soon vanished when purple mist-like energy swept through them. It somehow reminded Zeke of his first encounter with the skeletal creatures and he simply shivered at the thought.

His thoughts were soon disturbed when Aldaf came in his view and swung his arm around his neck. His touch reminded him of his own memories just a few moments ago, however, he brushed those thoughts away and assured Aldaf with a nod, whilst he himself is looking for any injuries that Aldaf himself might have. Zeke was too focused on searching for any possible injuries that he didn’t notice the hooded figure reveal themselves.

Zeke soon realized what was going on and realized that the woman herself is a Westerosian. Zeke’s eyebrows met and his sharp eyes went straight from the Northaria man’s steady hands hovering above the hilt of his sword. Zeke brushed Aldaf’s hands off of his shoulders and went between the group and the mysterious lady. Zeke has never been biased of anything ever, especially the way Westerosian thinks of the Northarians, but Matthias is not making it easier either. “Hold it. Let’s hear what she has to say first before you draw that sword. Enough blood has been shed today,” He shivered at the memory of feeling his pool of blood. “Listen to her first and then make our judgment.”

Zeke nodded to his fellow Westerosian. “Be careful with what you say, lady. Everyone’s on edge as we speak, choose your words wisely.” He warned with a hint of worry in his tone. He truly doesn’t want to have any more violence among them, it makes his head spin. However, he did worry about the inevitable the woman brings, but it seems like his loyalty to his clan triumphs his own philosophy... Even if it's a stranger, he won't have another chance to give his clan to mistrust him again. He simply doesn't want to go back with those cruel-looking eyes, he's contempt with seeing them at ease with his presence.
 
Valkyrie heard the upset noise of Barran and turned to face her. She lifted her head high, making herself looked bigger and taller even though she already towered over the giant owl. Valkyrie inspected the owl. Despite just fought off a lot of skeletal dragons, Barran still looked pretty firm and healthy... Valkyrie huffed air and began to slowly backed away. She still held her head high and ready her guard in case the giant owl got any funny idea and charged at her. She crossed over the deer carcass and stepped back for a decent range and stopped. She kept facing the owl still...

Serik hadn’t noticed the commotion between the skybeasts as he saw his friends returned. Most of his concern lifted as he found that everyone was fine and they seemed to be victorious over the monsters. Marylka was among the them, mounting on her hippogriff. Serik was glad that she returned well, but he was still worried about the wound on her flank...

Suddenly, a mysterious person arrived. She performed a powerful yet unfamiliar and sinister looking magic, destroying the last of skeletal dragons that still lingered around. She didn’t broke the orb in their chest however, rather she seemed to be outright “disable” them...

His teammates didn’t trust the shady lady at all. However, then came Ezekiel who just recovered from his wound...

“Hold it. Let’s hear what she has to say first before you draw that sword. Enough blood has been shed today.” He said

“Listen to her first and then make our judgment.”

Serik was skeptical about the new comer but he had to agree with Ezekiel here.

“Ezekiel was right. Let’s hear her out first. Perhaps she has any important details to share.” He stated his own opinion.

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On their journey back to rejoin the rest, the adrenaline rush Marylka had been running on started to subside and pain – gnawing and pronounced – returned to take its place. She was beginning to feel light-headed and her hands turned clammy, clear indicators that she had lost far too much blood and overexerted herself. Taking a peek at her side, she found her bandage mostly soaked through with blood. Katja was not going to be pleased.

To her horror, they returned to find their friends still fending off a group, albeit significantly fewer, of skeletal monsters. But as they landed, a mysterious hooded figure appeared and generated a blast of magic unlike anything Marylka had ever witnessed before. She watched in awe as the purple light washed over the creatures, and they collapsed one after another, the magic that had given them life in the first place extinguished like the flame of a candle. Just like that, the nightmare was over.

The figure turned to them and lowered their hood to reveal a beautiful dark-skinned woman with intricate golden tattoos adorning her face. Marylka realized the woman was wearing the same blue and gold robes as the man from their shared memory. Was she also from the academy? Would she hold the answers to their missing year?

Marylka gingerly lowered herself down from Archie’s back but the moment her feet touched the ground her knees gave way. She would have fallen flat on her bum if not for Archie who was discreetly holding her up with his wing. She wrapped an arm tenderly over the hippogriff’s back in a hug but also partially for support. Thankfully, the rest had their attention focused on the newcomer and didn’t notice her moment of weakness. At least, she hoped they hadn’t notice. She supposed pride was one of the things she and Archie definitely shared in common.

Perhaps it was because she was also a Westerosian or because his near-death experience had humbled him, but, surprisingly, it was Ezekiel who turned out to be the most welcoming towards the woman. Okay, maybe welcoming was an exaggeration but he was the least hostile. Marylka didn’t say anything – in her current state she didn’t think she could anyway – but she found the woman beyond fascinating. While the others were wary and just wanted answers, Marylka wanted to learn everything she could about and from her.

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The stranger seemed fairly agreeable about the mixed welcome. She smiled at Aldaf pleasantly, her eyes alight with a sharp intelligence.
"Oh I bet you have a thousand questions." She said it in a way that told them she had answers. The term of respect seemed to please her.
To the Northarians she turned an unimpressed eye and a cold tone, regarding Matthias' hand on his sword with reserved disdain. "It's good to see that you two keep up your clan's customary...charm...young lady, put that brush down and tend to your friends."

Kari wasn't sure what to do, she had just seen this woman use the same magic that had spelled those creatures...but she had used it to stop them...
Zeke was her first priority though and she followed Aldaf to see if the phoenix tears had done their work. He was standing, and she gave him a look of admonishment. Phoenix tears or no he should be lying down.
Looking at the woman properly Kari guessed she wasn't much older than most of them, mid twenties perhaps, and yet she wielded magic like a master. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose ebony ringlets, in a way that Kari had always wished her hair would do. She was tall, graceful and all too sharp. Her posture was confident and relaxed, as if she knew she could single-handedly best all of them...which might have actually been true.
She was also beautiful, and it made Kari very conscious of her ragged, blood-stained appearance. The wound in her side had cut a red trail half way down her thigh already, and continued to seep painfully.

It was when Zeke spoke that the stranger turned and her face softened. "Sweet boy." She cooed, "I'll remember that vote of confidence."
Serik seconded the opinion.
"We're sorry...ma'am." Kari added, "We owe you a thank you...for the creatures, and the phoenix tears that helped Zeke."
The stranger smiled again, but this smile wasn't sharp. "Resources well-spent then."

When Marylka stumbled dismounting her beast Kari casually stepped over to her.
"Let's get you to Katja," She said softly and offered her an arm.

"Well, I'm going to overlook the lack of manners from most of you, chalk it down to being traumatized from the experience and all that." She didn't sound too full of pity. "My name is Keshka. I am a teacher at the mage academy in Westeros. There are a lot of things to say, some can be said here, some cannot, but it's a long way to Westeros, so we'll have plenty of time."

Westeros, this woman just assumed that everyone would just go to Westeros.
"Be kind to them Kesh, they've had a very hard day." A second voice made Kari turn. A man about the same age was walking toward them, skybeast (a strange otter-like dragon, with white fur). He was clearly wearing Sudenta garb, leather tunic quilted on the shoulders with light fabric. His build was strong, and his skin tanned, likely from time in Westeros. His eyes were a gentle moss-green.
Kari could only guess that he had been responsible for the flash of light in the cave and the subsequent collapse of the roof.
"This is Ord, he is also an instructor at the academy." Keshka announced casually.
Ord bowed his head with a hand on his heart.
"I've heard about how you faced these creatures before. You ten are all anyone seemed to be talking about this evening at the celebration. We are really quite excited to have found you."
Keshka rolled her eyes, but nodded.
"You need your wounds tended to," Ord continued gently, he was a large contrast to Keshka, where she was sharp and direct, he was gentle and soft-spoken.
"Please, allow us to help you arrange new quarters to rest and send for more healers, I fear your healer might be...overworked."


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Aldaf nodded at Keshka and Ord
"Thank you both. Do you know of the people in the caves? I wish to know of my mother."
Aldaf spoke, his voice laced with worry as he took out some bandages and wrapped up his leg and arm. After he was done he approached Zeke and placed his hand on Zeke's shoulder.
"You shouldn't be up and about, Gryphon-head. You got stabbed in the gut. Ord, can you please lead us to the tent?"

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Matthias
Matthias bristled at the woman’s dismissive tone. With visible effort, the Northarian let his hand slide off of the hilt to hang inert by his side. His shoulders bunched and his jaw tightened as she continued to speak. When he opened his mouth to speak under his breath, already turning away from her, he heard the whisper of his father’s voice emanate from his lips.

“Westerosi witch.“

Matthias stepped away, before he let his temper get the better of him. He was at his wit’s end, and these people, these foreign strangers with their strange power... With each passing moment, he felt he knew less and less. He felt his grasp on what was true slipping further and further, snow melting between his fingers. Thinking about it all coiled Matthias’ stomach. If they thought he was going to Westeros with them, just like that, they had another thing coming.

Slowly, Matthias approached a nearby downed skeletal wyvern, one of the many scattered over the bluff. Its orb - and as Matthias saw it, the source of its un-life - was still housed within the cage of its ribs. He drew his sword at last, and prepared to smash the orb to dust. Before his sword fell, Matthias was already plotting his path through the rest of them to maximize his orb smashing efficiency. In his mind, this was logical.

If the creatures could survive a severed head so long as their orb remained, then conversely, if their orb was utterly destroyed, then there was no chance of them suddenly reanimating in the dead of night to kill them while they slept, perhaps at the behest of one mysterious Westerosi sorceress... At the very least, Matthias could think of several less productive outlets for his rage.

 
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Leandra LaFrae.jpg
Name: Leandra LaFraeNicknames: Lea, Firefly
Clan: SudentaClan Job: Huntress
Equipment: Knapsack, Medicinal Pouch, Bow, Quiver (3/10), Twin Daggers
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Soon the group reached a lake and Falarion flew low, one of his wings skimming along the water's surface. Leandra wanted to help keep back the horde, but did not want to waste one of her precious arrows. Especially given she had no practice firing an arrow while sitting backwards on a Skybeast. It would be something she would have to practice now.

As they all flew into the cave, Leandra saw a flash of light behind them and then darkness. She relied entirely on Falarion, hugging his neck, as he flew through the cave, dodging falling rocks and debris. Leandra could only listen, as the monsters started crashing into the waters below and death cries echoed around them. Though Leandra had to wonder if the monsters were truly dying as a living being would.

Before long, Leandra was blinking as they left the cave, the starlight above lighting the way once more. Glancing back, Leandra heaved a sigh of a relief to see everyone had made it out of the caves safely. As they coasted back to the camp, Leandra's bicep began to throb. Her adrenaline rush was coming to its end and now pain was there to greet her.

Falarion landed softly just as the mysterious woman took down the remaining monsters with magic that had a similar appearance as their glowing purple mist. In addition to the pain of her wound, Leandra was beginning to feel exhausted from everything. She dismounted Falarion, who promptly flopped down with a sigh of his own. He continued to pant from the ground while Leandra quietly listened in on the conversation unfolding before her.

Logically so, a number of her team was suspicious of the woman and Leandra had to cough to hide her laughter at the sight of Katja trying to threaten the woman with a hairbrush. One of these days, Leandra absolutely had to try and teach Katja how to use a bow. It would not require her to get up close in a fight and she would be more equipped to defend herself in the future.
Just then, Ezekiel stepped in front of the group and defended the woman. While Leandra had spent most of the conversation clutching her bicep and trying to remain standing, she at least acknowledged that Ezekiel had a good point. Pointing fingers and throwing blame around really was not helpful in any scenario. As the woman began to speak for herself, Leandra promptly sat down and crossed her legs beside Falarion. She was mindfully aware that he was exhausted and panting to try and cool off, so she did not lean up against him this time.

The explanation was rather barebones and Leandra felt her curiosity piquing, especially so when the woman said they were all going to Westeros, as if this was not up for debate now. Alas, Leandra was simply too tired now to put up a fight about it and she decided to send out one more letter before they were on their way. It would be the best she could do for now.

Then a man was approaching the group and Leandra finally recognized their attire to be similar to that of the man in the group's shared vision. The Academy. Then she remembered the woman had already mentioned being an instructor and mentally face palmed. She really needed to get some sleep after all of this.

Hearing the man speak of getting them new quarters and more healers to help them, Leandra felt grateful. She let out a quiet yawn and decided to keep sitting and resting until the group moved on to these new quarters.
Nearby, Matthias began methodologically smashing the orbs of the downed monsters that the woman had taken down with magic. Leandra watched him, mildly amused and mostly just too tired to join in.

Falarion continued to pant beside her and glanced over to watch Barran and Valkyrie seemingly fighting over a fairly fresh kill. The scent of the meat had his stomach rumbling and he slowly got to his feet before wandering away from Leandra's side. She sensed his desire and let him go, not entirely concerned now that the fight was over.
Nearing Barran and Valkyrie, who seemed to be backing down now, Falarion sat on his haunches and watched the two. He was mindful to not get too close and threaten whoever had claim over the kill, which appeared to be Barran now that he was closer to assess the situation. He continued to pant, eyeing the meat and licking his muzzle a few times. It was always possible that a meal would be provided by the humans, but there was something special about eating a fresh kill over a prepared meal. Of course, it was much better when it was a kill he had gotten, but now Falarion was drained from the fight and would need to rest before he attempted any hunt on his own.

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Caliban Lupei

When all was said and done, Caliban found himself wondering how exactly it was that so many strange happenings were occurring around their group all at once. The skeleton monsters on the mountain, the mysterious woman, the magic stick, some sort of healing elixir, another strange newcomer and his mount, their explanation, the sudden declaration that they would all indeed be heading to Westeros...It was all a bit much.

He landed near to Leandra, making sure she was okay. She had a rather sizeable cut on her arm, not dissimilar to the one he had earlier. The group in general was pretty banged up, from the look of things. Cuts, bruises, scrapes, nearly everyone had lost some amount of blood, and everyone was tired. They wouldn't be able to keep this pace up every day, this was getting ridiculous. He lay a gentle hand on Lea's uninjured arm, concern filling his gaze.

"You going to be alright? The past few days have been rough on all of us. But like you said, we're in this together now. It's not just you and me anymore, we have friends with us now."

He lingered with Lea for a time, listening to what the mysterious strangers had to say. Keshka. Ord. Instructors at the academy. Things were certainly never boring, it would seem.

After making sure that Lea was okay, he had one other person he wanted to check on. Making his way over to her, he couldn't understand why he felt the need to do so. Stopping just a few feet away, he flashed Katja a warm smile.

"You okay? You look tired. Maybe you should sit down and rest for a bit."

He was more immediately concerned for his friends than he was about paying much attention to the newcomers, though he made sure to listen closely enough to catch the important parts of their conversation. Luckily they would get more healers here soon, and a new place to rest. It had been a long few days, and even though their bodies healed unnaturally quickly now, mental and emotional exhaustion were different matters entirely.

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Barran huffed angrily as Valkyrie backed away, yellow eyes piercing the stork drake’s very soul before she lifted off the ground, grabbed her now torn asunder kill in her talons and flew off, finding a ledge nearby to start eating. Tearing the meat into strips with her sharp beak, breakfast had only just begun.

Katja looked around the new mystery character introduced herself as Keshka, from Westeros. The mages academy. Katja’s interest was piqued almost immediately. But first she needed to make sure her companions... friends? Were all taken care of.

She was about to yell at zeke about standing up without an okay from her, but he had already wandered off to talk to Aldaf. She sighed in frustration, her hand clapping to her face.

When she let her hand fall, she came face to face- AH!

Her face lit up bright red as Caliban approached, she averted her gaze and threw her hands up, trying to cover her eyes. Oh gods. Nononono go away.

“Me? N- Nah, I’m fine! Nehehehehe, never...” her eyes met Caliban’s abs for a second, “never better... hehe...”

She shook her head vigorously, “AHH! MARYLKA! I-I’LL BE RIGHT THERE! Pardon me Caliban, duty calls, HAHA!” With that she trundled away, leaving Caliban behind in favor of rushing over to Marylka.

“What happened?” She asked, her face still bright red as she approached, “Just, lay down and I’ll be right back!” She ran off to find her bag among the wreckage of the tent.

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Valkyrie watched as Barran flew away with the kill. This was an usual occurrence for her... A predator driving her away from carrion. If this was in the plain, she would have follow the giant owl and possibly harass it to give up food, especially if another or more stork drakes are also presented. Here, however she felt no necessity to follow Barran. There was another source of food nearby.

Valkyrie walked toward where the bonfire used to be and started scouring the place. It still mostly dark but the light was coming out and she could better see more details on the ground. Scraps that were left from the big ceremony hadn’t been cleansed off the place yet. Pieces of cooked meat, bones, bread and others food scraps are all edible to a stork drake. Even feces left by carnivorous skybeasts were taken by her insatiable glutton...

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Serik watched from a far as Katja went to treat Marylka. Serik was pretty sure that if Katja could treat Ezekiel whose condition was far worse, then Marylka wouldn’t be in any trouble at her hands.

Serik then thought of Keshka and Ord, the two instructor from magic academy in Westeros. It wasn’t just the curiosity of his missing memory anymore. The two seemed wanting the band to go to Westeros... Not just seem, they obviously were about to take him and the others to Westeros. The trip had became unobjectionable thing for them as it seemed to be... Other than finding out about the missing memory, these two could probably reveal something about Serik’s magic too, perhaps even help him taking more control of it?

Serik returned to the destroyed tent to see if he could find his belongings. Many things were trampled during the fight. His fur hat was dirty and some of his decorative charms were broken. His knife was still intact though, thanked to its durability. He found some paper and his sharpened coal that survived being trampled.

If he’s to go to Westeros, it’s best he tell his family about it...

Completing the letter, Serik walked back to where his band was. He also saw Valkyrie picking up scraps around.

“There are plenty of wildlife around to hunt and you just have to eat trash???” Serik spoke as he walked pass his skybeast, his eyes rolled.

Valkyrie looked after her rider, tilted her head a bit and returned to gorging up the food scraps.

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When it rains, it pours, and the downpour of surprises never let up. The woman, who introduced herself as Keshka, was apparently an instructor in the Academy over in Westeros. That explained how she could wield such magic with ease, and why Gerel could never let his guard down around her. She exuded power, in her words, in her manner, and in her poise. She was someone used to people listening to her words and following them regardless of whatever they were. Like how she immediately assumed that all of them would be alright with going to Westeros as soon as possible. Exactly the kind of person Gerel would have a problem with.

In sharp contrast, the other figure who approached them spoke with soft words and a gentle demeanor. Ord, as he introduced himself, held Keshka back, and even showed concern for Katja (who was once again running herself ragged looking after anyone with an injury). That placed him above Keshka in Gerel's eyes, but both of them were still equally suspicious. They did save the rest of their companions from the swarm, so whatever their intentions were, it wouldn't hurt trusting them. For now.

Once they were dismissed (to have Katja look them all over), Gerel looked around for Kari. He saw her with Marylka over at Katja, so she was in good hands. Gods know she needed them, with all the injuries she sustained. With the others occupied with their own thing (Matthias and his smashing, Katja and her... funny reaction over Caliban's state of undress, and that little drama between Barran and Valkyrie), Gerel's thoughts turned to the orb inside his sack.

He took it out, surprised to see that it was no longer glowing purple as it did earlier. Turning it over in his hand, it looked like any other crystal orb he could get for a couple of coins at an Ocris market stall. Maybe Keshka's earlier blast rendered it powerless. If he wanted to know more, he had to talk to her, something he wasn't looking forward to.

Walking carefully so as not to draw attention to the sprain on his foot, he approached Keshka. Hesitating for a moment, he handed the orb to her, saying, "I got this from one of the creatures earlier. You would probably know more about it than we do, since you wield the same magic it contained."

He didn't mean for the undercurrent of suspicion to be there, but Gerel had always been a bad liar. He hoped Keshka wouldn't take it the wrong way. If she did, it would not end well for him.

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Kari


Ord began to make arrangements for a new tent, while Keshka finished with the group.
She watched Gerel approach and her eyes lit up at the sight of the intact orb.
She accepted it, her eyes shifting back to him with a bright expression.
"These, are very hard to come by...you may just have saved many lives." She tucked it safely away before the big Northarian could see it.
""Wield"...is a very strong word for what I can do." Keshaka admitted, though she didn't seem embarrassed. "I can cut the magic...I can't create it...oh, there is so much to get through...but let's get your wounds sorted first shall we?"

Kari, now that the adrenaline was beginning to subside, felt exhaustion creep over her.
"Were you looking for use...because those things are targeting us?"
Keshka shifted her attention to Kari, "We suspected they would be drawn to a group of young warriors...warriors that up until seven months ago...had been at the Westeros academy."
"So you've seen them before? What are they? Where do they come from?"
Keshka seemed surprised, Kari watched as she tried to piece things together.
"You...don't remember ever encountering them previously?"
Kari shook her head.
"Dear...they are the deathborn...and they've been terrorizing Sky for the past year..."

~*~*~

The information was a lot to take in. Ord had made sure they had a new tent, fresh clothes and medical treatment.
The sun was peeking above the treeline when they finally had the chance to rest.
Ord stayed with them the entire time, while Keshka kept watch outside with her skybeast, a slender black dragon called Storm.

Kari, upon finding out about Gerel's sprained ankle, admonished him for flying through the caves with them.
"What if you'd slipped off? You'd be buried under the rubble with all those creatures."
She frowned at him, and then her eyes lit up as she remembered something.
"Hey," Kari took her bag and rummaged through it, drawing out a folded piece of brushed leather and woven cloth.
"You kept ripping your tunic whenever I got hurt, and...I never really thanked you properly for helping me."
She took the garment by the shoulders and unfolded it so he could see. It was a new tunic, bought with the money she had won at the rodeo the night before.
On the back of the garment, the outline of a flying kirin had been embroidered with a deft hand. The eyes and feathers and some of the scales had been added in colours that matched Jeff.
"I still have to fill it in more...but I can work on it later, if you're coming to Westeros..."
Ord looked up when he heard the name.
"I'm afraid there is a very good reason...several in fact, why I must ask you to come to Westeros with us...without delay. The chief reason being...that the deathborn are targeting you, wherever you are, wherever you go, they will find you. Keshka has been working on a way to prevent them from doing it...but the magic is..." Ord lowered his voice, afraid of being overheard. "well, it is complicated, and many would see it as evil. I'm afraid I must ask you not to spread the fact that Keshka can use this magic...it would stir tempers and ultimately cause a lot of harm..."


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As the new tent and facilities were ready. Serik came inside with all his belonging. Outside, Valkyrie had settled down on the ground, being satisfied from all the scraps she had foraged.

After settling down with his belongings, Serik decided to go check on Gerel who he saw limping on a seemingly hurt foot earlier. He arrived at the scene where his friend was sitting, with Kari at his side as expected... Ord was there too and they were having a conversation about the skeletal monster which was mentioned to be called "Deathborn". Serik sat down near by, listening to the information Ord gave out. Apparently, it seemed these deathborns were specifically seeking the band out for some reasons.

"the deathborn are targeting you, wherever you are, wherever you go, they will find you."

Ord's word made Serik's gut wrenched. If these horrifying monsters are right on their trail, then it even made more sense that they should rather go to Westeros just as Keshka and Ord instructed, instead of back to their home...

"But if these monsters are right on our track... That means we can't see our family due to the possibility that we would lead them to our loved ones, right?" Serik asked. He felt disheartened. He really wanted to see his family again after what he had learnt of the time that passed, but this fact was making it become hard for him, to think that if they couldn't rid the deathborns problem off... They would never have a chance to see their family ever again...

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Zeke nodded at the woman in recognition, glad that he could help out a fellow Westerosian in need. He was glad he could return the favour for the phoenix tears the woman gave him. However, he did hear Matthias mutter an insult to the woman and Zeke raised his eyebrow at this. He hoped there wouldn’t be any conflict between the two if they were to become travelling companions. It was odd for him to think of such a thing, but if they were to encounter any more setbacks from him going home to Westeros, then he’d surely hope to not have any more petty conflicts.

Zeke listened carefully at the woman’s voice as he tried to form his own judgement of the woman, now known as Keshka. When she got to the point where she told the group that she was an instructor at the academy, Zeke froze helplessly. It was just then that he remembered his father’s journal and the unknown knowledge that was placed in there. He wondered if she knew of his father, but there was one thing holding him back… Zeke hasn’t talked to anyone about his father and he doesn’t plan on opening up any more old wounds. In the meantime, he’ll just have to conceal his true feelings about his father and keep it buried forever.

Ord began making the tent as Zeke watched the man’s every move, Zeke is still yet waiting for the man to prove his worth. At the moment, Ord and Keshka hold more information than him and anyone in the group, and Zeke planned on unravelling each and every one of them.

After finding out about the two strangers' identities, he felt a hand grasp on his shoulder. Zeke didn’t have to turn his head around to know whose touch it was. "You shouldn't be up and about, Gryphon-head. You got stabbed in the gut. Ord, can you please lead us to the tent?" Zeke let Aldaf lead him over to Ord’s newly made tent where everyone has gathered.

“I’ll be fine, Scar-face. I just have a lot on my mind… This is just a lot to take in.” He said in a calm manner as he feels his head become heavy. He could still feel Aldaf’s hand above his shoulder as his eyes began to get blurry. Zeke felt his toe hit something and in just a few seconds, he felt his eyes close as the gravity pulled his body down. Fatigue swept over him as his senses and ability to move was halted for a mere second.

kase9187 kase9187
 
Aldaf moved quickly as Zeke fell, catching him.
"Aaaaand that's why I'm calling bullshit."
Aldaf hefted Zeke into his arms and carried him over to the tent, lying him down on a mat inside.

Aldaf moved back into the tent with a tray of food.
"Hey, Zeke. I brought food." His voice was gentle as he sat down next to Zeke on the mat.
He had some soup in a bowl and some juice in a cup, a spoon lay on the tray in between the two.

SleepyCreamy SleepyCreamy
 
Marylka overheard Aldaf asking Keshka and Ord about his mother and mentally smacked herself in the head. In the midst of all that had been happening, she had forgotten to pass on his mother's message. "Aldaf!" She called over. "Your mother's safe with the rest of the merchants at the cave. She was very kind and helped bandage up my wounds... She did ask me to tell you to stay safe, although in retrospect, it might be a little too late for that."

Kari then came over and quietly offered a hand to help her to Katja. She didn't make a fuss or chide Marylka for her recklessness, she simply showed that she understood. As she took her hand, Marylka felt extreme gratefulness for the other Estendorian girl. However, before they had even left Archie's side, Katja rushed over, flustered and red as a beetroot. Marylka peered past Katja to see a still shirtless Caliban, standing where the healer had left him looking somewhat confused. She had to stifle back a laugh but made no comments on the situation. It was always better to let nature take its course when it came to affairs of the heart. She did as Katja told her but asked for the healer to tend to Kari first. Her wounds at least had a bandage over them, albeit they were far past the point of being effective, while Kari was still bleeding out.

❊❊❊❊❊

When Marylka settled down in their new tent to rest she found herself unable to fall asleep despite her exhaustion. Her nerves felt frayed from the events of the night, the memory of waking up to find a deathborn in her face still fresh in her mind. Keshka had mentioned the deathborn earlier - their name alone could incite fear in people's heart; literally creatures born from death - and it brought so many questions to Marylka's mind. What kind of magic was powering them? If the deathborn were targeting them, would they have also targeted their families? The young warriors that Keshka spoke of... could it really be them? If it really was them then why had they left the academy? What had happened seven months ago? Why did it seem that nobody really knew who they were? For every question they answered, ten more would surface and Marylka felt incredibly overwhelmed. Rolling over, she screamed into her furs in frustration.

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"Oh, shut it you!" Zeke told Aldaf in a contradicting tone, after having him carry over to the tent. Zeke obviously fought for his dignity but it seems like his body is finally taking in the effect of the phoenix tears. He soon found himself glaring at Aldaf after hearing his comment but soon brushed it off once Aldaf came back with a tray of food. The smell of soup wafted through his nose and it simply made Zeke's stomach growl.

Zeke crossed his legs and looked down on the tray of food, before picking the spoon up and then the bowl. After a few spoonfuls of the soup, Zeke found himself to be bothered by the fact that Aldaf was not eating or at least replenishing his energy. After all, it was him and a few selected others who were the ones should be eating and resting, after that very dangerous endeavor. He felt utterly useless and he vowed to be much useful next time... If there is ever a next time. Some seem to be a bit hesitant in going to Westeros and he couldn't blame them if it was Zeke himself, then they'd have to do a lot of convincing. Just then, a brown-eyed girl came to view and there was Marylka, the new Westerosian who just joined the clan as of just yesterday. He wondered why she would do such a thing. He couldn't even imagine himself leaving his poor mother alone, but apparently, this girl has the guts to do so and Zeke found that to be a little bit admirable. Marylka informed Aldaf about his mother and Zeke found himself pitying the boy. He prayed to the gods that his mother is doing fine, every single second he's away from her.

After Marylka left, Zeke soon stretched his leg to nudge Aldaf's knees to give him a not so harsh kick, just to catch the green-eyed boy's attention. "You should get some food as well." He said with a blank face, even though his own heart and mind would tumble and rumble for control, but at the moment, his heart seems to be winning. A thought came suddenly to his head and he felt himself biting his tongue. "I'm guessing after today, you'll be wanting to see your mother." And Father? Zeke thought as he just realized that his father is nowhere to be found and he wondered if there was a reason for that. "You should go to her after you've rested and eaten." He said in a soft tone. It's not like I care or anything... right? Once Zeke finished his soup and laid it down on the tray, he started sipping on the juice and smirked at a thought that made his heart blossom.

"And don't worry too much for me Scar-face. I'm beginning to think that you're developing a crush on me or something." He smirked at his own comment, feeling proud of himself. It came out as a joke, but Zeke couldn't help but search for the tiniest bit of truth for his answer.

kase9187 kase9187
 
Aldaf chuckled at Zeke's comment on food.
"I'm fine for now, Gryphon-head."
Aldaf kind of nodded sadly at the mention of his mother.
"I would love to... but these things follow us. I can't risk putting her in danger again."

At the comment about developing a crush, Aldaf turned to look Zeke in the eye. His trademark smirk was on his face and a mischievous glint was in his eye. He said nothing before rising, getting himself some food, and sitting back down.
"So how do you like my cooking?"

SleepyCreamy SleepyCreamy
 
Keshka’s bright expression was in sharp contrast to her earlier words. Despite himself, Gerel’s heart rate spiked. Coughing a little, Gerel forced himself to think about what Keshka meant when she mentioned ‘cutting’ the magic. What did that mean? Was the pulse of purple energy she did earlier different from the purple energy inside the orbs? Did it somehow cancel each other, causing the skeletal dragons to fall dead? And perhaps most important to Gerel, could this magic be learned?

He was about to ask Keshka about that when she reminded him of his sprained ankle. Limping over to Katja, he tried his best to ignore Kari’s admonishing glare. As he always did, he instead focused on the things Keshka revealed. On top of spending time in Westeros together, they all studied at the Academy over a period of at most five months. Keshka, and possibly Ord, had been aware of them and their stay in the Academy. And finally, the creatures that hounded their every move since they finished the Proving have a name.

Deathborn. And it wasn’t coincidence that they started appearing all over the skylands around the time they all lost their memories.

Well, the deathborn was the least of worries as he sat down near Katja, waiting to be treated. Kari was there, giving him the look. If only Gerel could dig a hole in the ground and hide there, he would. Of course she’d notice the sprained ankle.

"What if you'd slipped off? You'd be buried under the rubble with all those creatures."

“At least now you know how I feel when I see you all banged up and rushing headlong into danger,”
Gerel shot back. Maybe now she’d look out for herself more and stop being too reckless.

Silence filled the space between them for a short while, before Kari lit up like she just remembered something. She pulled something out of her bag, and Gerel was stunned.

"You kept ripping your tunic whenever I got hurt, and...I never really thanked you properly for helping me."

Speechless, Gerel could only take the tunic in his hands. He marveled at the embroidery, running his fingers over the blue and white of Jeff’s scales and feathers. It wasn’t complete, said Kari, but already it was beautiful beyond any he’d seen, save for his mother’s carvings. Immediately he wanted to hand it back to Kari. He didn’t feel he deserved such a gift. But she was so earnest, so honest, so… Gerel blushed, and lowered his head to hide it.

“Thank you, Kari. It’s beautiful, and I’m sure it’ll be even more beautiful when you’re done with it.”

Then Ord spoke up about the the main reason they all needed to go to Westeros soon: they were being targeted by the Deathborn. The only sanctuary for them was the Academy, and Keshka’s strange magic. Gerel was still curious about that. If it was something that could help them fight these… Deathborn, then it should be shared to the rest of the party (at the very least, to their strongest spellcasters).

Serik, who checked up on Gerel, visibly slumped upon hearing that, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to meet their families until the threat had passed. Gerel placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, “We’ll eventually go back home to our families, no matter what happens. Of that, I’m sure.”

Gerel had to say it. For Serik. For their companions. For himself.

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Matthias
Matthias sat in the tent, taking up space. His arms were folded as he looked ahead at nothing. The day had only just official begun – he spied the sun beginning to creep up over the horizon outside the tent – and yet he was exhausted. Matthias was exhausted for several reasons, only one of them physical. Mostly he was fatigued by the weight of the circumstance he found himself in. And, as if on cue, other, new-but-in-fact-old, long-buried concerns had just recently begun pressing in on his mind, ones he had not been forced to consider for a very long time.

Ord was explaining the situation to the other Proven, and Matthias as well, though the latter pretended not to be listening. He had developed a knack for presenting practiced disinterest. It was partially what kept most people at bay... The ones who weren’t put off by his hulking size or intimidating stare, that is. His head cocked slightly when Ord brought up Keshka’s magic.

”... many would see it as evil.”

No surprise there, Matthias almost said out loud, but thought better of it. He did allow himself a withering glance at the flap of the tent, beyond which Keshka stood guard. A dark, juvenile part of himself imagined she could feel it, a cold tingle down her spine.

Serik was the first one who brought it up. There’d be no going home for them. Not now. Not today. Not soon. It’d be selfish to think otherwise, with those beasts trailing after them like wolves after a fresh kill. To go home would be to bring that devilry home, too. Matthias felt his countenance darker further at the thought of those creatures in Northaria, crimson blood staining white snow.

“We’ll eventually go back home to our families, no matter what happens. Of that, I’m sure.”

Matthias swiveled, finding Serik and Gerel. He pinned them both with a glare, his arms folding themselves tighter across his chest. ”Don’t give the boy hope.” Matthias rumbled, low and rough and unsympathetic, before moving to turn away, to go back to staring at nothing. The truth was there were no guarantees. No promises could be made by men that were unbreakable. They could die in Westeros, or on the journey there, or in this tent. Or the Deathborn could be laying waste to their homes at this very moment, and they’d return the conquering heroes to find smoldering huts and ashen snowfall. Seldom little in this world was certain, but there was one thing Matthias knew with surety... The gods were not with them. Their fates were clearly being written by a devil’s hand.

 
Aldaf turned to Matthias.
"Matthias, I want to ask you something."
His face was a mixture of disappointment and distain.
"Matthias, what would we hold onto if hope were to die? Would you deprive us of the thought of a happy ending?"
He turned back to Zeke, eating soup and recovering from his wounds.

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