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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 25, 2010 15:00:53 GMT 2
Sitting by the entrance of the Cave Gwyndar looked out from the mountains edge. Downward was many hundreds of meters to fall if one were brave enough. At one point in his training the rider that trained him had explained that this was where some riders faced their peril if they were rejected by their dragon. Thousands of bodies hidden by the mist and fog that lay beneath the mouth of the caves that the mountain encompassed. It had scared the young Gwyndar, but only made him more resolute when he found Siluth. The Dragon had tried to knock the rider off the mount, only to find himself in a sparring match where both half-ling and dragon needed to stop from exertion. In the end it had made the rider laugh and the dragon gain some pride for the spunky boy.
<"And now look at you. Swooning over a Monarch! Of all things."> <"She needed my help. I'm not going to be the one to say no and let her die."> <"Ah yes, but now she is better. Let her be from your mind young one."> slowly the rider rose to his feet again and walked over, putting his arm on the Dragons side and letting his head rest on the arm. Letting his rub the perspiration that had formed be rubbed away. Erasing their meeting from existing.
So why did Gwyndar suddenly have a new pang of stinging pain in his chest? He knew quite clearly that it wasn't the broken ribs, of that pain he knew well. No, it was deeper and felt almost like heartburn. It wasn't, but that was as close as he knew to the feeling. <"Oh for goodness sake Gwyndar. Please don't tell me you have feelings for her already?"> <"I don't have feelings for her already."> He answered automatically, keeping his eyes closer on his arm so that he could breath the familiar smell of his dragon. Leathery but rich like a forest after a heavy rainfall. <"I wont let her get to me."> He promised his dragon, pushing himself off and patting the great beast with the palm of his bloody hand. He would need that bandaged before nightfall.
Truth being told the rider didn't know exactly what he was feeling. He had that familiar ache in his chest from his ribs, this new feeling that was strangely invasive, his hand stung from the bleeding ... but he didn't know what he was feeling. It had been a long time since he even considered the idea that his feelings had any merit within his lifestyle. He kept them locked up tight under layers of anger, of hatred and of pain. Pain was a friend he knew well.
Yet now, he found himself thinking about what the queen had said in her state of delirium. 'If... If I ... wasn’t queen...would you like me?' It was a simple question when he thought about it. But the answer was so hate filled that he refused to show her how very angry he was at it. Even if she was not queen, that would not change who he was. A murderer. Had she not been queen she would have simply been one of the people who, upon seeing his face screamed blue murder that the murderer had returned. She would have had no interest in whether he had any feelings for her in the slightest, only the hope that she would not be his next victim.
The silent anger bubbling inside him was enough to send him growling to the edge of the cave and punching the stone work. Crumbling bits of stone falling to the floor and faced with a dangerous man, driven mad through time. He was mad after all, Paranoid, Severe mood swings, Sociopathic ... where he to be studied the results would all conclude his unstable mental capacity. All because he could never be who he wanted to be. Gwyndar was a man struck between a rock and a hard place since birth. Since the day he was conceived he was cursed to be uncaring a brutal. It was in his blood.
The same blood that now ran through the Queen healing body...
Had he even considered that fact? What would such a cure do on someone who was not rider blood. Someone to which the magic bond between Dragon and Rider now had running in their own bloodstream.
Was that why she had acted so strangely toward him? Because of the stupid antidote?
The voice of the Queen cut through his thoughts like a knife through cheese. The stillness of her own sweet voice felt terrible to listen to. It did not suit her to seem uncaring. And the thought of her traveling down these paths without protection against other dragons was some sort of miracle given that she got to him in one piece.
He would not see her go through that pain only to rupture the wound once more as she walked down the insanely steep mountains built for riders on dragon back. "Do not be silly my Queen. Siluth and I will escort you down, you now smell of our lair. It would be more dangerous now for you, there are many still know us by what title we are placed." He spoke calmly as he had when he left her side. Only now, there was that small lack of gruffness as he continued to think over his own wayward state of mind.
Without giving a second thought the Rider mounted the massive black beast. One foot stride and a massive leap he was more than used to made the job easy. "Take my hand my Queen. I expect no reward for my efforts. I did not ask for any. I prefer my actions to go unnoticed." He said firmly, leaning back down toward her from the back of his seated dragon, arm outstretched in an effort to aid her climbing on with him. It would be the simplest way for her to get to the bottom. And the safest.
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Post by Silisia Anja Saffy on Jun 25, 2010 18:11:56 GMT 2
Weariness encased her. She stood back watching the rider and his dragon interact. Voices drifted into her mind. She stopped, almost gaping. A dark, magical voice, echoing with ages and with the same tone as Gwyndar reprimanded someone for swooning over a monarch. She froze in place. Madness seemed to be consuming her. Perhaps she was still delirious. Gwynder’s voice next entered her mind, replying to the other voice. She ignored it. Perhaps she was hearing things. <”Hearing voices is far from Natural, Sil,”> she reprimanded herself. A tone of irritation bristled through her thoughts. She quicly put it behind her but the voices came again. Feelings for who? Her? Sil? <”Can’t be. He hates me.”> she put the thoughts from her mind and concentrated on her task at hand. She had to get out of her before he changed his mind. She shook her head in silent laughter. She truly was going round the bend. Let her get to him? <”He speaks as though I’m a bad influence.”> she mused more to herself, growing quite concerned that she was answering the voices now.
She could not help but wonder if what the dragon said, if she assumed the voices were real, was true. However, it could never be. He was a wanted man and she was restricted by her title. Annoyance flared up again as well as hurt. She wondered what her life would be like as a villager. Quaint, she supposed. <Would never had been in this situation if I wasn’t a queen.”> her tone was thoughtful however, the point invalid. She may never have been in this situation if she was a peasant but she would not have lost anything other than an ambivalent encounter with a wanted murderer.
She regarded him carefully. He seemed to be quite confused himself. She regretted snapping at him and denying him an answer to a question. She just had felt so cut off from the rider at that point, she did not believe that he cared to hear her answer. What would she have answered? <”Him a sorcerer? Hah! Merely a sex crazed psychopath.”> she remained broody. Delirium brought throw things she did not want to talk about. She regarded the rider carefully and could not help but to wonder what his side of the story was. He seemed to be very angry at some injustice and hated all people, especially monarchy and people of power. <I guess the chances that he sees me as a person is slim,”> she resigned. She watched him as he was overcome with anger and took it out of the cave wall. She flinched away from him, and became extra weary.
She looked back over the short time they were together. The enchantment had required blood. Her eyes grew big. Blood enchantments were the most powerful kind usually bonded the two people in many different ways. <”Gwyndar?”> She hoped she was mistaken and that she’d only get the reply of the echo of her mind. She remained stiffly silent, gazing at the rider wearily. She remained quiet and uncaring as she made her way out toward the entrance of the cave. Perhaps she would find her good for nothing horse somewhere along the way, if he was not half way back to Samarid.
She looked back at him as he spoke again, with great logic. She sighed exasperatedly, and slowly made her way toward him, regarding him with suspicion. She did not, not trust him because he was an infamous rider but because he did not seem to stay constant around her. His voice was calm once more and his gruffness had receded. She watched him climb aboard his great monster and turn to speak to her. “If that is what you wish,” she said indifferently, still very guarded around the ever changing rider. She grudgingly took the hand that was offered and lightly sprung up behind him. She paused for a moment, answer of where to hold on. Common sense dictated that she grasp him around his waist, but how would he react to that?
She timidly wrapped her hands around his bare chest. Under her finger tips, she could feel his well formed abs and she could not help but trace the soft contours of his muscles. Her heart lurched and she quickly scolded herself for even touching him.
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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 25, 2010 19:55:17 GMT 2
Mumbling. That was all he could describe the feeling like, something was mumbling inside his own head. As if he were clinically psychotic and had voices in his head more than just he and the dragon riding community. There was a look of confusion but it quickly passed. Yet it felt like every time he spoke to his dragon there was a small echoing voice in the back of his head. Annoyingly answering everything he said just as a madman would. He was indeed inherently crazy. <"Siluth, remind me I must make haste to the elephant moor. The herbs are seen to be anti hallucinogenic."> With an internal sigh the rider attempted to regain his composure as he mulled over the very quickly developing pang in his chest.
That was when he heard his name being called. the voice was clear and although very feminine he looked to his dragon with curiosity. Only to find the dragon looking around with similar confusion. <"You hear that also? Be it Azkadee? She be the only female Dragon who dare call me without first acknowledging you."> He thought wearily. There was a clear indication that the voice in his head had been heard, but whether it had been an echo of it that his Dragon heard? who knew.
He stayed silent as he aided the beautiful queen aboard his dragon. The beast was not disturbed by the few extra pounds that was added to his load, a beast like him was used to carrying loads far greater and flew with ease. However, he was pulled back to the reality of the situation as he felt the woman's soft, delicate hands once more upon him. Gently against the laborious remains of years of training. It made the pang within his chest shift, creating a fluttering sensation beneath her fingertips. As if she was using her magic to create tiny sparks against the fine hairs that traces his lower abdomen. For a while his mind fell blank, all thoughts lost to the sensation of her timid fingers over his bare skin. It was a long lost sensation that nothing had ever been able to replace.
Slowly and with careful accuracy to avoid his injuries and her newly closed wound the rider took his hand that once held hers and used it to grip behind him. Pulling closer to woman who had such a loose grip on him. <"Please god let her trust me."> He thought sadly, his large hand holding tightly to her small body before he kicked with his heel into the side of his dragon. His free hand holding onto the side of the mighty beasts neck, another one of the places a dragon feels no pain sensations. <"Don't show off now. I don't think she would appreciate it."> A deep booming chuckle rumbled from within the Dragon as he stood from his seated position and nose dived off the ledge in front of him. While both Dragon and rider were used to such plummets where their insides would twist with fear the experience was similar to that of simply falling.
From the mouth of both dragon and rider an almighty roar escaped with laughter at the feeling. It was a game for them at times. Only when the wings of the great beast beat against the wind did the feeling leave of having been free falling. instead Gwyns stomach lurched and he held tighter to the delicate female behind him. It was too soon however that he found the bottom of the mount within view. A slow descent was in order.
<"Slow down Siluth ... I dont feel ready letting go yet."> Defeated and with a loud sigh the rider looked back at the woman. She was very pretty and the blood stain on her clothes only reminded him how fragile people around him could be. "Who is that ..." The confused and slightly angered voice called out to his dragon, looking down at the foot of the mount where on horseback a figure had appeared to be climbing the mountain. Foolish boy, foolish foolish boy.
With trying to alert the Queen Gwyndar reached with the hand no longer on the dragon to the blade at his side. It was a normal procedure that he protect his dragon from anyone that may pose a threat. He knew not of the weapons that the male carried, nor of his reasons for being where he was. It was always better to take precautions. "Keep your face from view my queen." He called to the woman. <"Take me low enough to jump."> He ordered the great beast, feeling the swooping motion as he spiraled down with the dragon, blade in hand before ... at the height of a tree he used the hand from the queens waist to remove her from him and slide sideways from the dragon, pushing on one foot off the side and leaping down to the ground.
With a practiced thud the half elf reached the ground and let a small cry of pain slip past him before he looked up from his landing pose and; blade in hand, growled at the boy who from this position he knew well. "What are you doing here boy." He growled, feral protective emotions playing a big part as he silently commanded the dragon from the sky <"Take her down gently. Away from here.">
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Post by valken on Jun 25, 2010 23:44:29 GMT 2
Valken was feeling sick already, his stomach was hungry and now he wanted to throw out, he wasnt even smelling the blood, and he was already sick. Valken tried not open his mouth, but it was hardly impossible. Thunder was laughing stupid horse he thought rolling his eyes, thunder was a more funny and smart animal, very independent and always embarrassing valken in front of people,w while Steve was more serious and protective of Valken. The wolf was in front of him ready to attack every person either animal. The horse was just there, looking everywhere narrowing his eyes to Valken, expecting him to throw out. Valken had taken out his sword, a white sword with a dragon flying across the silver and shinny blade, it was his father's sword, his mother gave it to him in memory of his father loss. Valken was trying to make some sense of his life, he wasnt used to be in that territory, he had never been there. But then he saw a huge, well a humongous black dragon in the air, his eyes went totally open and his mouth was totally open, he mumbled unconscious words and he leaned against the huge rock behind him, he was almost looking something to hold. Steve started to bark showing his fangs, so brave, while Thunder was just there shaking, his skinny legs wanted to ran away, but he would probably be eaten before he could even say 'Cheese'. A man was jumped and fell in front of Valken, a man who clearly seemed to be the rider, and an older guy, like 26 years, but he looked way different to what he was used to look in the farms. He was a man with several muscles, huge ones, and his clothes smelled like blood, or were his hands? Valken just knew that he was about to faint, that dragon, that smell, everything was so confusing, but that wasnt the perfect moment to play being a princess in trouble. The man inspired him fear but at the same curiosity, if he was the owner of that dragon, it was probably a dragon rider, and being a dragon rider he would probably know something about the Allen, thing that made Valken feel with out exit. He didnt wanted to be recognized for anyone, he was just 'Alek' with out middle and last. He was just a lost boy, nothing more. "What are you doing here boy." the voice of the male was deep and sadistic to valken's ears. He started to hyperventilate and to squeeze his hand on the rock behind him, he glanced at the dragon again and saw a something, was a human? but no, it was probably just his imagination. The just idea that he was there just being looked and a probably assassin was in front of him with a huge sword, he didnt knew what he was looking, his gaze went blurred and his hands wet. He tried to speak a few words but no voice came to him, he looked stupid.
"Ahh...walking..." his voice broke in the last word and he smiled like a dork. Indeed it was a good moment to throw up. But he closed his mouth enough to stop it. He closed his eyes and tried to focus in other thing, like in being afraid. After all he was still young, he was 18. "This is not a place for a walk, right?" he said almost laughing in a nervous way. "Its getting late" he said still faking a smile, and called Steve, who was still showing his fangs to the dragon. Valken pat Thunder's neck and impulsed him to start walking down, Steve behind Valken. "The pleasure was mine" he said as he walked -it seemed like he was running instead of walking- away.
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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 26, 2010 0:26:57 GMT 2
"Do you mock me boy?" The dangerous and well known face growled at the pitiful explanation of his being within dragon community. The blade was thrown from one hand to the other; not a large one, a curved and obviously elven dagger at best. So sharp it could slice through skin without pain, yet make it bleed faster than normal. The dangerous look on the mans face only doubled as he corrected his posture and stood upright; obviously towering over the cowering boy. How absolutely pathetic. "You are known to me boy. I ask you again Allen blood. What cause have you in these parts. You have no Dragon yet you definitely do not seem ready of one."
Walking slowly and menacingly toward the male he noted both the horse and wolf nearby, the latter an obvious protector of his master. It would make no difference. Gwyndar had killed creatures bigger than humanly thought possible. A wolf he could kill with a single stab to its heart.
Noting the boy himself, the nomadic rider felt his stomach turn as he watched his petty attempts to not vomit around him. This was a truly pitiful excuse of a trainee rider. "You know fine these are not the roads to walk. What was your meaning of coming here." He spoke no less gruff but the volume was lower, more dangerous and his face ... the resemblance to a madman was almost uncanny. The images posted around the villages giving a good artistic interpretation to the eyes that now reflected the pathetic attempt of a man masquerading as a trainee dragon rider.
With a sickening smile the rider took a few more steps so that he was chest to chest with the boy. His breath heavy and a small formation of spit at the side of his mouth gave him more of a feral rabid expression. "Surly you know that I am not one to lie to." He growled, grabbing the boys front as he attempted to escape. Oh no, there was a reason for people fearing Gwyndar as they did. He was insane, had no emotions when he killed and was known to have murdered a dragon rider elder and his dragon without too much of a struggle. He was most definitely someone that was better to have been avoided than simply making up stupid excuses that they had been 'walking'. "Now, tell me boy of Allen how is it someone of such rich blood is so much of a child that they feel the need to vomit when there be no need for it. Answer me that?"
The hand tugging at Valkens front had stained red with blood the fabric. a reminder for Gwyndar that not far away, his Dragon held someone terribly important to the murderous traitor. That he had given his blood in the aid of one who had attempted to cage him like the madman he was. "Want me to tell you? It's because you are pathetic. You are weak. And you will never amount to anything other than this quivering jelly legged idiot who cannot even stand up next to a man his own race" With these words Gwyndar let the boy go and eyed the sword in his hands. A challenge? An ambush? Not this time...
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Post by valken on Jun 26, 2010 1:16:46 GMT 2
“Do you mock me boy?” the guy growled and Valken just stared at him, assimilating his voice, somehow he remind him of another person, but hell no, maybe he was mistaken, far from it, he was totally sure that guy was an insane, and he should be getting by a safer place, he needed to find his real identity, not a knight, he had promised Azkadee that he wouldn’t be a rider, he was skipping the call of blood. Valken narrowed his eyes, he was truly facing another guy that wanted to rule everywhere, but this time was different, he had perhaps a reason, Valken was in his lands, and he just said that he was walking, of course he was doing that, but because he was lost. Damn it, he thought as he tried to find an answer in his messy mind, he glanced at thunder and the horse just stared at him, trying to tell him that he was afraid enough to gallop away. Valken sighed and then just said with out importance “Who are you?” his words came out like with out importance of course. He wasn’t anything but polite when a person was rude. He had education, and he learned to be good with people, you don’t know when you might need of them, but clearly this guy would not need anything of anyone. He saw the man as he corrected his posture and stood upright, and they were like the same tall, but he just seemed older and more lived. He got closer to him and Steve the wolf barked aloud at him and Valken shut him with his hand, and ordered both of his animals to vanish of there. “Boys, get out” he stated very firmly and with out taking his penetrating blue eyes off the man. The wolf cried, he’s pouting? he thought and glanced at steve, his eyes turned into a tenderness gaze to the wolf and again “Now” his voice turned a bit soft, but with out loosing the ‘effect’ of master. The wolf ran up the mountain with the horse that clearly didn’t think of run twice. Now he was there facing the man. “You are known to me boy. I ask you again Allen blood. What cause have you in these parts. You have no Dragon yet you definitely do not seem ready for one” Valken frizzed as he heard the last name Allen, Damn it damn it damn it they found me he thought as he broke the eye contact with the man. He was sure he was an assassin, but of who?, Who wanted his family dead? It may be the blue eyes of his mom? The gestures of his father? Or the simply scar across his neck? He didn’t know. But he will figure it out later, if he wasn’t dead by midnight. He glanced back at the guy and every feeling he had when he take his mother & sister out of the fire came again. The courage, the impotence, the pain, everything burn in his eyes in that moment. Was he the guilty of everything? Was he? Valken hold his sword even more, with such strength that he didn’t recognize in him. “You, murder” he stated, in a silent growl. He felt the courage run into his veins and the anxious desire of bury his sword into his chest, but he wasn’t a murder, no. "You know fine these are not the roads to walk. What was your meaning of coming here." If it was someone’s fault, it was Valken’s he was in his territory, and maybe it was his destiny to die there, to be the Allen who died in the enemy lands. But if that was, he preferred to change it now. “How could you? “ he said slowly and threatening, he saw how he was playing with the blade he had. Valken was just waiting for his answer to decide if fight or die. And dying wasn’t an option at all. The sick man took a few steps toward Valken and both were chest to chest, Valken nod and saw him in the eyes, trying to find any guilty thought, he didn’t cared anymore, he was being blind, he learned in matter of seconds, that fear would not conduce him to any way but death, while he was trying to focus, and remember some attacks he once saw in a knight’s fight. But he wasn’t a good fighter though he wasn’t a ass with sword. "Surly you know that I am not one to lie to." Valken sarcastic smile grew, he was totally facing his own dead Valken sarcastic smile grew, he was totally facing his own dead “They call you the honest then?” he growled as he laughed cynically. The guy grab him from the front and Valken pushed his arm away. He was just waiting for the right moment to stab him with out mercy, letting him alive, and suffer what he had suffered before. It was almost 2 months since he was rolling in the forests with out home, with out peace, with out life. He was al messed up, he was all dirty, he was a forsaken man. And he hoped he could stay that way. "Now, tell me boy of Allen how is it someone of such rich blood is so much of a child that they feel the need to vomit when there be no need for it. Answer me that?" Valken ran into words, he didnt find the perfect insult to bother him. He just wanted to end with that, and if his fate was to die, so it be. But not of preference. "Want me to tell you? It's because you are pathetic. You are weak. And you will never amount to anything other than this quivering jelly legged idiot who cannot even stand up next to a man his own race" Ok it was all he needed to say, the man let him go but no, he wouldn’t go, not so fast “And what are you? the strong and smart? You better shut the fuck off and tell me why in hell did you killed them” Valken screamed at the end and pushed himself to stab him, “I will make you suffer what I suffered, just tell me why! Do you know what it feels to see the most beautiful face consumed by fire? Do you know?” Valken’s anger was incredibly taking him to another level he didn’t knew of himself. Valken fail when he tried to stab the man, he failed in purpose, he threw the sword to the ground and went to this man, chest to chest “Of course you don’t, because your just a miserable soul that doesn’t have anything better than a dragon, at least he makes you happy? Do you feel pleasure when you kill people? When you killed them? I bet on it. You can call me weak, and pathetic, but you cant call me a murder. And I can”
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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 26, 2010 2:02:43 GMT 2
"Who am I? Why boy if you do not know then count your blessings boy of Allen. It may have been years but do not pretend that my face is new to someone whose own family hunted me out naught but five years past." The tall brute of a man growled, he was every bit as barbaric as his native Stryklak, though he be half elven blood the brutality and pure muscle that was his figure. Height was an unknown source, he towered over crowds and men alike, only giving his menacing appearance more of a dangerous appeal. Many who saw him commented in his younger days that the sheer size of him was enough to strike fear into the hearts of those smaller than him, with muscles the size as a small child's head was it any wonder than the man had been able to slay a dragon not long after having killed its rider?
There escaped a low and almost maddening laugh from the rider. He that knew his place in this world as a wanted man, one whose very existence was an extension through so many lucky escapes and mistaken deaths ... sometimes it was a wonder he had even survived the guilt in his own mind. Yet it had made the man grow into the heartless, cold blooded sociopath that everyone to this day associated his name with. Gwyndar the traitor, Gwyndar the murderer, Gwyndar the mad ... all had been his name at one point or another over the five years past. All had been the screams he heard when he was approached or found out in public and all where reasons that the great warrior sometimes wished he had been on the receiving end of his own blade. it would make the world a much safer place; keep everyone from his insane thoughts. His mental inability to feel emotions or comprehend their use.
All the things that had happened to him in life came by the mistakes he made as a foolish boy following his emotions. Lust had caused him his very life! Never again would he allow them to take hold of him, nor for a pregnant teen, nor for a beautiful Siren and definitely not for the face of a magnificent Queen who had for the first time in many years made the brute of a man laugh. No, he had been mistaken in his feelings, they were nothing but trouble for him. It was better to simply react, not think about what was going on in the world around him. Not try and understand, but simply stay alive for another night longer...
Why did that hurt him so. Attempting to forget the beautiful Queen and her adoringly pleasant manor. She had come to him in desperation, she was her last and only option. And yet now he found himself struggling to come to terms with even the simplest of movements. Everything he did amounted to nothing if it meant that he would see the beauty no more. That he would once again be the man that she hunted as a danger to everyone.
That he lost to another man...
No. He would not think such things. There were more pressing matters at hand to which the Rider found himself no longer amused by the child's petulant behavior. Once devoid of his creatures the blade in the giant mans hand came but a hairs length from the side of the boys throat. His revelations of calling him murderer rand through his ears. He was immune to the words, they were only words after all. And having been lumbered with so many titles that were all the same he had found that giving into the power of words was never a wise option. Still, it made the rider growl in a similar fashion to a dragon as he looked down at the surprisingly cocky boy. He wanted to play did he? If only he knew the trouble he was causing himself with the stupid behavior.
"How could I? Why boy I am glad to see you finally know my face as i know yours. Make no mistake, my words would mean nothing to you. you have made your choice." He growled, pushing off the boy and leaving a small trickle of blood from the knife. The sharpness left no pain, just blood. It was meant for bigger wounds, bleeding its victim to death painlessly ... silently. The child's outburst only made the dark maddened laughter increase. Why had he killed them? Of course that would be a simple answer. "Let it never be said I was the instigator Petulant child." The man rumbled, his voice aged beyond physical time, roughened by the worlds he had seen ... by the deaths he had caused. Again he found himself coming to brunt with what he assumed was an attempt to intimidate the hardened murderer. The boy had no idea ...
Pushing with very little effort the boy to the ground as he came back to push his chest against Gwyndars the dangerous rider found himself putting a hard soled boot against the boys stomach. His hair falling down over his face as the bare chested Gwyndar looked down at a familiar scenario where he would play with his victim. He never began the fights ... he simply ended them.
"They were of no concern to you boy. You were a mere child when I murdered that Elder and his Dragon. You-" He gave a swift kick to the boys abdomen "-have no authority over me. I am Gwyndar, Dragon killer. Attempt that again and this blade will have sliced your throat through before you even know I have moved." Removing his foot from the boy he crouched down again, twirling the blade within his hand and smirking. If he wanted to fight, Gwyndar would fight. Years of sparring with a dragon who knew how to not kill you was enough to make his fighting skills far greater than even some of the most trained knights of the kingdoms. Pure ruless fighting. Brutal stabbing and slashing with a precision worthy of an eagle had gotten him this far. The Allen boy stood no chance.
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Post by valken on Jun 26, 2010 3:17:39 GMT 2
"How could I? Why boy I am glad to see you finally know my face as I know yours. Make no mistake, my words would mean nothing to you. you have made your choice." The guy pushed Valken and cut him in the arm, seemed like an accident, but nothing at this time was an accident, nothing. Valken saw the blood and his stomach started to bother him, he could not throw up in him, that would be lame, deserved yes, but lame at the end, he needed to something better; show him of what he was made. He felt no pain, only saw the blood running though his hand, dropping into the ground, biting his lip, he growled, and with taking force of his inside he stood there decided to end what he had started. An intern war between riders. –Even if he wasn’t one yet-
"Let it never be said I was the instigator petulant child." Valken had failed his attack, and for something he was glad, he wasn’t ready to kill someone, he didn’t even knew if he wanted blood in his hands, and carry in with the guilt. “I bet you feel proud of it” valken said with a bitter poison falling out of his mouth. The man suddenly pushed him into the ground, such force, he couldn’t fight with, but he wasn’t a coward, he had sense of humor, or at least he used to have, it was different though he didn’t had enough humor in that moment. He was too dissipated that when the guy put his foot on his stomach, he felt how his ribs were crushing, nothing serious, but yes painful. He was just an 18 boy who lived so many things in so less time. He was 5 years when he stopped seeing his father, his sister was 2, and they never had the chance to say how much they loved him, a proper hug perhaps. Valken was angry, but a nostalgic breeze crossed in his hair, and his eyes, the deep and intense blue suddenly crashed to turn into a light and with out color gray, sometimes which happened to him, it wasn’t a huge change on him, but it was clearly something that changed. Valken remembered everything he had been trough, how did he get the huge scar he had in his left hand, protecting a little kid from abusive knights, they were torture him to get his father location. It was cold and ruthless, those guys deserve death but he was no one to decide who lives and who does not. What made the difference with this guy? He had no right to kill innocent people, what did his father do to him to make him think he deserved that end?
Valken tried to pull his foot out of his stomach, but it was hardly impossible to, still he was trying to lessen the pain in his head. His arm still bleeding and while he pushed more his foot, more blood ran trough his arm up to his shoulders, dropping into his neck. He was feeling weak, and more weak, the sun was perfectly hurting his eyes. He narrowed them to see the murder’s face. A small growl with a sigh came when he saw his cynical face, indeed a mad man. "They were of no concern to you boy. You were a mere child when I murdered that Elder and his Dragon. You-" Valken felt the foot bury into his stomach and he breathe in need of some air. Valken had some flashes of his past, like when they say you’re dying, valken wasn’t dying, he was a strong person, but mentally he was having a disorder, he had so many rules upon himself, how could he make justice, if he didn’t wanted to kill someone? Divine justice? No, he needed something more powerful.
Valken couldn’t resist it “-have no authority over me. I am Gwyndar, Dragon killer. Attempt that again and this blade will have sliced your throat through before you even know I have moved." The guy apparently called Gwyndar removed his feet, and valken took all the air he needed to at least make one of his lungs work. Valken rage was truly firm, more than he could expect from himself, he wasn’t a hate person, he was always full of love, until he started to lose everyone. His friends in combat with knights, all in front of him, his father, he had very minimum memories about him, but everyone used to tell him tales about him, that he was a brave and happy men, he was a man of peace, justice, and over all, a respectful man of life. He used to say that people has always a choice, there are no ways with out alternatives, the choice is there, we only need to be capable enough to recognize them. It was a wise man. And valken wanted to be like him, his only Hero above all. And now he was dead, and he was running of his destiny, he didn’t knew what he wanted to far, he fought with his mother to be a dragon rider, and now it was something that just stayed in doubts, he wondered if he could stay in that way forever. But there was nothing in his eyes now. He heard what Gwyndar had to say, but so far he had just fell into his own thoughts, he didn’t knew if he was more angry or sad, he could avenge his family’s dead, but he was just there, not knowing what to do, would his parents be proud of him if he killed gwyndar? Would they? He didn’t know. He was the infamous Gwyndar, yes he had heard that name, it was a man full of shit from what he had heard. His fame was just for killing a good man, that wasn’t fame at all. “Of course, you’re the classic man that takes advantage of the good people, your fame, its nothing more than a piece of what my father was. You rider full of shit are nothing compared to my father, and if I die here, at least you will have the memory that if someone was better than you it was him." Valken spited at Gwyndar’s face, and stood up as quickly as he could evading his elf sword, he prepared his fists to fight, if he knew how to fight was with fist, at least they didn’t had edges, but his arm was bleeding to much, so he tried to compose it by breaking a piece of his shirt and make a bend, taking advantage that Gwyndar had his slime on his eyes. “Im the Allen you won’t kill” he said with a serious gaze.
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Post by Silisia Anja Saffy on Jun 26, 2010 16:18:11 GMT 2
Sil frowned at the thoughts forming in her head that were not her own. Who was Siluth? And what part of her mind knew that elephant moor had anti hallucinogenic herbs? Right now however she could do with some. However, her fears were quickly put aside as she heard Gwyndar reply. However, he seemed to have no idea what was going on and she had little inclination to put his mind at ease. She smirked to herself, as she watched him fumbled in confusion. <"Who's Azakadee?"> she thought, with vague interest.
A shiver of surprise ran down her spine as Gwyndar pulled her closer. She responded, moving right up to him and holding him as tight as she could. <"I wish I could trust you. I just do not know who you really are. Sometimes I see a person I can trust, and grow fond of, but then..."> she replied honestly, hoping he would figure out the power of the magic he had used to heal her. Before she could finish her sentence, the dragon left the ground into a nose dive. She hung on as tight as she could, ignoring the other two's howls of pleasure. Burying her face in the nape of his neck, she refused to look down. She felt her heart almost stop and fear run wildly through her body and mind. Heights were not her strong point. <"You're right, I won't,"> she managed to think, as she felt all sense of grounding leave her.
When she did manage to look up she found the ground almost in reach. A rush of disappointment went through her, but his voice gave her hope. <"Then don't let go,"> she whispered ever so softly into his mind. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and even though she felt as though she could loosen her drip, she did not. For once in her life, she almost felt connected to other human being, if it was only just for a second. She smiled as he looked back at her, and her eyes were touched by affection. <"Get a grip, Sil,"> she scolded herself, but it was not her thoughts that interrupted their moment. Gwyndar had seen something. She quickly looked down and too saw the boy. Although she doubted whether anyone would recognise her up here, she did what she was commanded. She lowered the hood of her cloak over her face as she once again heard his thoughts. <"NO!"> she called in desperation. <"You can't leave me."> But he had already pushed her away and had jumped. She fumed as she was left on the dragon to fend for herself. She heard his request with great annoyance and as the dragon flew away, she had already planned her escape root. With a determined frown, she lept to the ground around fifty metres away.
She grimaced as pain went through her legs as she landed heavily on the ground. Her hood fell from her face but she quickly put it back in place. She took a moment to recover but quickly went off in search of Gwyndar and the boy. She unseathed her late father's sword and snuck up to the scene of the crime. She got there in time to see the boy on the floor and Gwyndar standing over him. The boy was wounded. She arrived in time to hear the insolent boy's words against Gwyndar. Of course, you’re the classic man that takes advantage of the good people, your fame, its nothing more than a piece of what my father was. You rider full of shit are nothing compared to my father, and if I die here, at least you will have the memory that if someone was better than you it was him.
"Don't you dare speak to him like that," Sil hissed at the boy, coming out from the bushed. She turned her hidden face to Gwyndar. <"And you can't just leave me like that,"> she said stubbornly. She had her loyalties divided. She did not want Gwyn to hurt the boy, but he had attacked some she... cared deeply about. "Please, Gwyn," her voice was soft and musical. "He's just a boy. He does not know what he's saying." She moved over to the rider and gently placed an hand on his arm, discarding her fear that he may strike out at her. "You're better than this," she pleaded, without looking at the boy. Who cared about the foolish child? She only hoped that Gwyn would back down. She looked back at the boy, warning him not to come any closer.
OOC:I'm randomly posting. Please excuse any spelling mistakes. Down by the coast on my lappy.
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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 27, 2010 18:24:48 GMT 2
A loud roar was heared fro the maddened rider as he felt the assimilation of an offensive stance being created on instinct by his well trained mind. There was indeed a sense of feral, primal hatred that fueled his actions. It had been quite some time since he had felt such rage, yet this stupid boy ... would he be missed? He hadn't started this fight, so the guilt surly would not overexceed what he already had to account for. "Don't make me do something I will regret child." He managed to get out before he watched the boy spit at his face.
A very big mistake to make.
With an almighty roar almost as deep and dangerous as a Dragon the rider raised his hand above his head with the dagger held tightly. Its long curved edge capable of slicing clean through the boys main arteries ... of being plunged into his heart or lungs, depending on hos long he wanted the boy to suffer at his hands. At that minute the clear wish was to puncture his lung, letting him panic and flail as his lungs shut down slowly ... painfully. That would get the problem away from him. It wouldn't be the last life Gwyndar took, there would be more. He knew that.
A voice invading his head again made his howl with anger as he put his hands to his ears in an attempt to block out the noise. Although he was a rider of immense training Gwyndar was one who lacked in the understanding of magic. The idea of another voice in his head, answering every question he put forth, commenting on every thought in a voice he knew was unknown, he knew he was going insane. <I'm going crazy, I've finally snapped ... dear God Siluth you better be keeping a check on..."> The voice wasn't in his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the figure of Silisia emerging from the bushes.
Initially his thought was to kill the child before she could stop him, but something was telling him to not let her see something like that. Witnessing the final breath of a child, the light leaving their eyes and the heartbreaking expression when the realization hit them that they were dead. No-one should ever have to experience something like that. Gwyndar only prayed that he didn't look like the animal he was emanating. yet ... <"I can hear you..."> The confusion and panic in his head was focused both between the raised dagger in his hand and the calm voice soothing his thoughts.
"Just a boy. At his age I had already killed of the most well loved elders of my race. At his age I was hounded by armies with no experience of the outside world; run out of every village and forced to force my own existence. Age means nothing." With a small growl his eyes moved back to the boy on the ground. "He knows exactly what he was doing."
[/i] Wiping with his bloody hand the spit from his face the dragon rider roared down at the boy. I'm the Allen you won't kill.. " I never killed any of your name. Elder Malcum was not of your line, do not make yourself of importance when you mean less to me than the ground i walk on." The loud roar and readying to stab the boy as he stood to his feet was only halted by a gentle hand touching his arm. <"This is who I am. This will always be me ... I would be better off killed by my own hand."> The thought flashed only momentarily through his mind as he growled deeply at the small child. He was still in a very offensive position. He would not back down. He would not fail. He would not let his fate end with a child. "I urge you move."He said through clenched teeth to the woman by his side. "I mean no harm of you, but I am not within my own mind." [/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]
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Post by Silisia Anja Saffy on Jun 27, 2010 19:37:17 GMT 2
<"And I can hear you,"> Sil said softly, and calming, even though inside she was beginning to panic. She had never seen his fury shine through so clearly. It was as though he had lost touch with all his humanity and had become the man everyone feared he was. It was not his fault. The people who had hunted him had turned him into the monster they thought he was. She kept moving forward, keeping her gaze steady. She looked down at the young child on the floor, compassion growing. Unfortunately, good will seemed to be a huge flaw on her part. Who else would stop to even look at an infamous murderer for his goodness, when they could chose to cry murderer?
Her expression dropped as he spoke. In a few seconds, she had lost who he had been with her. His constant changing scared her, and common sense told her to run and save herself. It was foolish to have even followed him up the mountain. Aila could have helped her find another rider. But, she moved steadily on, hoping he would come to his senses. She ignored his words, keeping herself calm. She only wished that she could help him see the good inside of him and the true beauty he eminated. She pulled out a handkerchief from her belt. Although it had some of her blood on it, it was for the most part clean. It was softly scented with the queen's own perfume. She could not understand the boy's hatred of Gwyn, nor Gwyn's reaction to the boy. Perhaps he had merely found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She almost flinched away as he raised his swords, but as he stopped she gained some more confidence. She ignored his thoughts while she gently wiped off Valken's spit from his face. <"This doesn't have to be you,"> she replied, adamently, lowering her hand. <"You saved my life. You saved a worthless queen's life. Someone that stands for everything that persecuted you. That has to count for something."> She searched his face, looking for some indication of him listening. Her eyes echoed disappointment at his words. She sheathed her sword in seeming defeat, but did not move away. Instead she moved directly in front of him, sheilding him from the boy. If the child had any honour, he would not attack the queen from behind.
Slowly, and carefully, she placed her hands of his cheeks, and lent in slowly. Knowing that he was armed, and highly dangerous in this mood, she hoped she would not alarm him. Even he realised that he was not himself. She placed her lips on his every so gently, savouring a moment that would probably be their last. She pulled away, tucked her handkerchief into his hand as a token. "As you wish, Rider," she replied in a cold manner that lacked conviction. With that she turned to walk away. <"I will always be a part of you, and you of me,"> she said softly in her thoughts as she stood back, watching everything unfold. She unseathed her sword again. <"No matter what you do, I see who you really are. But I hate to see you destroy yourself.">
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Post by valken on Jun 28, 2010 2:23:01 GMT 2
Valken would not allow Gwyndar to touch him, not this time, not with his hand bleeding and his lumps with out air. He was totally out of his mind, even his lips were shaking of all the rage he had been saving for this time. He wanted to badly to have that murder in the ground begging for mercy, he didnt wanted to kill him though he didnt had an option. And besides what made Valken thought that he was going to be able to kill that infamous murder. Nothing. Just the mere hope of revenge. Valken saw a lady approach. Valken nodded with out a trace of what to do, his fist in a fight mood, he relaxed them. He thought that the lady perhaps was there because she was lost too. But no. They knew each other. Her face was covered, but the voice was just too girly and she wasnt saying what he expected her to say.
"Don't you dare speak to him like that," Valken surprised and more angry replied "What?" was she her mate? or something? if he was right then he was in trouble, Gwyndar was enough opponent to give him more advantage and end with a score of 2 VS 1 where he would probably lose with out thinking it twice. "Please, Gwyn," her voice was soft and musical. "He's just a boy. He does not know what he's saying." "You're better than this," valken disagree in both things, he wasnt a boy anymore. He looked young, but he was a very mature person, he had so much to give. "Excuse me, Im not a boy, and I do know what Im saying" he stated very secure of himself but a bit confused about this woman that came out of nowhere.
At least Gwyndar wouldnt attack him with witnesses, or he would? he had reputation of no feelings, though if he had no feelings what made this woman speak to him? maybe she was deformed of her face, or maybe an ancient debt, or his sister? if she was his sister, he loved someone, and if he loved someone then he had feelings and if he had feelings then... why in hell did he killed his family? So many feelings crossed into Valken's eyes, while he saw her kissing him, something that let him with out words, he didnt knew how to react, it was unusual, and somehow flashy.
Their looks seemed to be talking with out words, a clearly conversation were he was being excluded. But he didnt cared, he just wanted to end with the guy and leave. But something broke his thoughts, was like a huge slap. His eyes werent blurred anymore, werent blinded to the truth he was seeking with so regret. "I never killed any of your name. Elder Malcum was not of your line, do not make yourself of importance when you mean less to me than the ground i walk on." everything fell as he heard those words, he didnt even realized what he said after that, or if the woman left just because she wanted or because of him. Everything went dark, he could only hear the steps of the woman so aloud in his head.
It was like he always thought it would be to die. For something he was glad, he wasnt sure if he could endure the truth, to face the murder, he needed to go on in his life, but it was a shame that with out courage, with out rage, he had no reason to fight, and Gwyndar would probably kill him, just for being a stupid boy. Valken agree with that.
Valken leaned his back into the giant rock behind him, running a hand trough his hair, letting it in his forehead, feeling how he was burning in temperature, his sweat went cold, and his eyes were gone in to the nothing, he slowly sit in the ground, his hands shaking. He didnt knew what to do or what to think. He just vanished there, while the blood of his hand was running down his face.
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Post by Nalean Silverstar on Jun 28, 2010 11:40:00 GMT 2
Nalean turned Shadow away from the farmhouse and asked him to move forward into a calm easy-going trot. She wasn't in a rush to get home and she was actually in the mood to go looking for something intresting to do or to maybe just get away from the stagnant life of being a village healer. She love what she did but sometimes she had an urge to do something more exciting with her life. When she had been a young child she had often dreamed about life as either a dragon rider or as a powerful magician, either at the magician's guild or with the elves. She had often wondered if her father's banishment would prevent her from being allowed to enter the elves hidden city freely.
She rode across the flat plains that lay infront of the mountains, where most of the farms in Strvitcomche were located. The plain was the only piece of flat land in the whole country and majority of the farmers located in the plains were crop farmers. She frowned when she saw a chestnut horse galloping from the mountain, riderless. Nalean turned Shadow towards the horse and pushed him forward into a gallop. She aimed him so that she was able to position them next to the chestnut horse. She leaned forward and grabbed the reins that were dangling dangerously close to the horse's front feet. "Woah!" she said attempting to keep the panic from her voice. She sat up asking Shadow to slow down and once she had both horses standing still, the chestnut panting from his long run, she looked at the horse with a frown on her face. The horse was obviously well-looked after and had tack that was obviously expensive. "Let's see if we can find your owner" she said turning Shadow towards the mountains.
When she reached the mountains and started to navigate her way through the mountains she felt the chestnut slowing down and he seemed to be walking behind her almost grudgingly. "Come on boy" she muttered noticing that Shadow was flicking his ears behind him, confused by his companion's reluctance to go up into the mountains. She squeezed him forward not wanting either horse to have too much time to reconsider going up into the mountains. She followed a path, hoping it was one that was used by people and not one used by wild animals. She frowned again when she saw a figure coming down the side of one of the mountains. As the person came closer to her, she recognised her straight away. "Sil, what are you doing here?" she asked with a look of confusion on her face. "I thought you had gone back to Samarid" she added, curious about Sil's reasons for coming to the mountains. A look of concern appeared on her face when she noticed the male lying on the ground behind Sil, "A new friend?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
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Post by Gwyndar on Jun 28, 2010 18:48:23 GMT 2
<"there is nothing more worthwhile than preserving a life when it can be helped."> The admittance of something like that under the circumstance shocked the rider to the core. Without knowing it the scent of the queens perfume had intoxicated the mind of what was supposedly a man of no emotions. It had been so long, so very very long since he knew the touch of a woman.
Whatever spell she had cast on him made him wonder if he was really just an emotionless mass of muscle. <"I don't remember how to be different."> There was a sense of worry in the quiet voice inside his head. The last time he had sown any true compassion it had been when the poor queen had been outside her sanity. Before that? ... it was too long ago to have remembered.
With the grace of a faun Gwyndar watched with a sense of panic as the small woman put her hands upon his cheeks, subconsciously having him lean his giant frame down to her before he felt, more than saw her lips come into contact with his own. In that moment every bodily function just; stopped. His breath halted, his eyes slid shut and the hand gripping his beloved blade loosened the grip enough that the sharp edged weapon fell from his grasp. Landing tip down in the ground, the clean sound as it buried itself within the dirt.
It was the first time memorable that the known murderer had dropped his weapon for any means, be it injury or success the small blade had been in his possession at all times. Able to be reached in time for anything that might endanger either his dragon or himself. It worried the man probably more than he let on due to his stupid pride. Be it stupid or otherwise there was a definite need for him to always be in control. Whatever happened.
Her gentle words in his head brought only more confusion for the man now that he was vulnerable and mentally exposed. He hated this. Hated being the bad guy. But it was so much easier to have no emotions and kill for the safety; there was a true silence that fell upon an area once a kill had been accomplished. It meant that the escape was so much easier, so much cleaner. 'Who I really am? I don't even know who I really am. How can she know more about me than I do.' M"How can you say that. I'm a murderer; what else is there.">
With all the thoughts running through his head, Gwyndar just had enough time to watch as the bleeding boy seemed to finally give up the ghost against the rocks. His body link and his eyes glazing over in the very familiar scenario that the murderous rider knew only far too well. "No ..." He mumbled, stepping forward as he heard another voice calling for the queen.
That was all it took for his fight or flight scenario to once again flare up. "I told you. There is nothing else." He said quickly, his eyes flashing with panic as he grabbed the blade from the ground and fled quickly behind him. in the direction the queen had obviously come from his dragon and his escape rout.
If anyone saw the queen with him, the blood on her clothes and a dead boy nearby ... It would be the end of her. <"Be safe my Queen.">
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Post by Silisia Anja Saffy on Jun 28, 2010 19:54:29 GMT 2
Annoyed at the boy's words, she turned to give him a withering look. "Do you want to live, foolish child?" she snapped violently at him, her voice having great ominous power due to her hidden face. The boy was not helping his own mission. If he died by Gwyn's hand now, it was his own foolishness.
Sil allowed the smallest flicker of an approving smile at the voice inside her mind. The queen managed to grasp some of his confusion in threadrals that floated between them. Her eyes remained soft and comforting, hoping that he would take some comfort out of her precense, although she knew she was causing him a great amount of confusion. She smiled patiently at the man. <"You can always rediscover it,"> she suggested, trying to contain the sense of worry that was developing. How could she help the condemned rider? She wanted to stay with him, but she knew as a queen, she had other responsibilities, like the war. She sighed, anxiety emminating from her.
She was surprised to find that the responded to her touch, leaning down to allow her to touch her lips to his. She could even stop and enjoy the moment, allow her heart to skip a beat and find breathing hard to do. She listened to a clang of metal as she assumed that Gwyn had dropped his sword. She had succeeding in disarming him for the boy's sake, but had Gwyndar realised how much he had begun to mean to her, and in realising that, seeing the good in himself. It was probably wishful thinking.
She felt his rush of confusion and almost confused his emotions with hers. Her eyes remained neutral as she tried to sort out his emotions from her own. However, she had to admit that she had her own level of confusion. Her actions spoke of her true desire, but her position in society would never allow her to be happy, especially not if she chose to live in her happiness with a convicted murderer. <"Tell me what happened,"> she said softly. <"But before you do, let me tell you what else I see. I see compassion for your enemy;me... I..."> She could not word what else she saw in him. His vulnerable anger? She was sure that he would not appreciate that discription. <"I see..."> she began again but saw Gwyn glance at the boy.
Anxiety touched her mind. She reached out with her power, and managed to determine life in the boy. Suddenly she was torn between the man near her and the boy waiting to die. Although the wound was not mortal, he seemed to have given up after hearing that Gwyn did not kill his family. Another voice echoed from the mountain. It was a voice she had recently heard in Aila's shop. "Gwyn... Wait," she called, her heart crushed by his words. Nothing else? Did he seriously believe that he was worthless?
Her breath caught as she heard his final goodbye. She quickly turned to Nalean, to her surprise had her horse. "Heal him," she commanded, her voice alive with all the authority of the queen she was born to be. "Thanks." She grabbed Tally's reins, and lept ligtly aboard and urged the uncertain horse to follow Gwyn. The Chestnut scrambled over the terrian and lightly lept over rocks and ditched until she caught up with Gwyn. She jumped off as she steered her horse to block his path. "Take my horse," she whispered breathlessly. "Siluth is still quite a way away. You... you can meet me in five days in the mountains of Samarid. He knows the way. I know you must go, and I must be sure people know no harm has come to be." Her eyes echoed with sadness, hoping that the rider would either stay now, or follow her request. <"Go safe, my Rider.>
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