What was Dead, Lives :: Gwyndar, Nalean

[auraya sylvian]

TELL ME THAT YOU'VE GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANT
&& Y O U R B I R D C A N S I N G
BUT YOU DON'T GET ME, YOU DON'T GET ME

The land beneath the lordly dragon fell swiftly away with each distance eating expanse of wing. The wind whipped dangerously in the rider’s hair. She did not look behind, or acknowledge the young rider. A soft anger boiled at her and her hatchling’s stupidity. They had risked far more than their lives but the reputation of the Beiwyr Draig, the ancient word for dragon riders. The fabled strength and prowess would fall away to suspicion and hate. The title of murderous would befall them all, not just the infamous Gwyndar. Although the ancient had long since given up her fealty to the riders, she would not ever be completely free from them and thus some loyalty remained. The large shadow wiped across the plains, tainting it in the darkness that had descended upon the ancient and her beast. Villages below scattered, screaming in horror at the beat thought to be lost in the ages of the ancients.

The old elf sighed in a vague irritation, but quickly tried to sate herself with the idea that Gwyndar would be joining their merry band. With that, the smallest of satisfied smiles touched her lips. It was not a pleasant smile, but one that would pull regret into any on lookers. The land faded, blending into the darkness. The ancients were not used to sleeping at night. They slept whenever the need took them, so the flight was effortless. Avria growled, her booming voice shaking the earth that melted beneath them. A blue light exploded in front of them as Avria let forth a burst of flame. The land was illuminated for just a moment, highlighting a terrified village below. Screams of terror exploded beneath them and people scattered. Avria huffed, annoyed at human arrogance. A dragon had far more important things to do than terrorise villages below.

The villages soon fell away to the treacherous city of Dantalon which shone ominously red, and then the inhospitable Bhaktawer, and even the nomads did not stray out of their hiding to observe the incoming dragon. The thieves were so far gone the large shadow did not perturbed them. Swift and silent, the large wings cut through the resisting air, toward the powerful land of Chipucha. Magic sung in the air, intensifying the closer they got. They soared over a lake to what looked like old ruins of a catsle. Slowing, the great dragon took a moment to balance herself then swooped in, in the middle of the fort. The large clearing was shrouding in a dark mist. Auraya slipped off the dragon and moved toward a looming shadow. As the mist cleared, a large alter appeared in the middle.

Auraya ran her fingers over the inscribed words, chiselled into the stone. It was a ancient language, long since forgotten by many, from the days of the old magic. The elf took a breath of the old, cruel memories that harboured the dark place, feeling the souls of the magic stir within her mind. Many people did not understand the true nature of the old magic, especially the dragon riders who had almost been conquered by the ancient race. She threw her head back, taking a deep, soothing breath of the knowledge that waited, speaking in the silence.

Taking a moment for herself was a rare thing. Her fingers reached for her neck and slipped off the chain containing the guard’s blood. The blood glistened red and the elf dripped it into a cup in the centre of the alter. Dropping the vile to the floor, she looked up at the sky, and raised her hands. A dark voice wound into the depths of the heavens and released the water of life stored within it. The rain beat down for only a moment, filling the glass. The elf’s small hand grasped the handle. The smoothness of the stained silver cup was apparent on her palm. The liquid within the glass was stained with a maroon tinge, the price of the queen’s life. The blood red dress brushed in the grass as the elf turned and faced where she expected Gwyndar to come from. She held it out, hoping the rider would get the message without her having to say anything.

The sun slowly rose amongst the mist, bathing the land is red. The water glinted a harsher red. Sunrise. He should be approaching. However, she did not glance up to the sky. She remained still and silent and Avria did the same. Auaray ignored Nalean, her irritation still writhing within her. Reynald would not have been impressed if the young girl had gotten herself killed. Who then would he please himself with? It was the same sunrise the girl was to begin her training. She most certainly had a lot of explaining to do to Reynald and Auraya would remain amused. Perhaps their debt would be settled. Auraya had attempted to kill him, but had in turn saved his new trainee.

tagging Gwyndar, Nalean etc
outfit in the pic
words 826
lyrics your bird can sing by the beatles
notes blah
credits this was made by brooke !

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[Gwyndar]

T H E Y W I L L N O T F O R C E U S

[/size]
and they will stop degrading us
T H E Y W I L L N O T C O N T R O L U S
and we will be victorious

Having taken his lady love to where Siluth and he had remained during the day Gwyndar collected himself. Wrapping her in his cloak and keeping his eyes on her while his eyes burned with weak tears. He was far stronger than she was; he should have taken the blow for her. He would happily have done it, it was shocking that the archer even had the skill to kill her. His bow and arrows where novice at best. He could have made better ones himself. So why had he lost Silisia to someone whose marksmanship was lower than average.

That was not all hehad thought of however, while he sat knee to his chest within the crook of his dragons wing. Looking down at the death that she exuded. He thought of his loss; the loss of the first person to make his feel more of a man than the murdering nightmare that everyone believed him to me. She had trusted him when no-one else did; trusted him with her life. Trusted him to save her and help her when he could so easily have just killed her; she was so weak and helpless. Almost jokingly so.

And yes he hadn't. He had protected her; taken her into his cave, shown him the magic that the riders posessed and saved her life. In the prosess binding himself to her in a way he had not before expected. But the channel between dragons and riders was able to be opened by any of them; just not to the public. As it was a wound only riders ever seemed to be landed with was it any wonder that she was the very first documented case where this particular effect occured?

And with that he had found himself falling in love. Drowning in something that had frightened him; but which had been impossible to ignore. He was to be her lover it seemed. She had given him nobility in what he assumed was a way for him to gain acess to her without the scandle of the court.

All of that. All their spilled secrets; all their whispered loving nothings ... worthless when an impossibly lucky shot had pierced her through the heart.

<"Do not let yourself succumb to the emotions rider. I cannot take it."> The great black shadowed best whined protectively, the channel from his riders mind so unprotected he could feel every shift in his emotions. <"It was through no fault of yours that she fell. And the price was paid; her murderer is dead."> "But it was not me who killed him!" The rider roared, getting shakily to his feet and running a coarse hand through his hair. Tugging at the dark strands that were beginning to fall in front of his face. With little more than a growl he took the dagger from his side and cut in a ragged line the large clump of hair that had been annoying him for weeks. Throwing the hair aside and sheathing the blade again he growled at his dragon. Indicating for him that it was time to leave.

Scooping up the dead woman still wrapped up within his cloak and hauled both himself and the woman up onto the back of the dragon; not making another sound even as they rose up in the air.

That being said he did not need to speak when he knew his dragon had an innate knowledge of the lands and knew exactly to where he was directed without anyh words having need to be spoken. For that he was thankful.

They had been travelling all day; watching as the moon rose through the sky and soared over the mountains and clouds. Making little work of any obsticle in their path and soon finding a charred trail that indicated not a dozen miles ahead the red demon dragon had flown. In its path creating nothing but the destruction that any other time would make the rider wary. While still he sat on the back of his . Arms cradling with a fierce protectiveness the body of the woman he found himself drawn to love even now. Even as she lay dead in his arms. He had vowed to protect her, and something so little as her death would not change his mind set. He would keep her safe.

Though the night wore on the day brought the ever closer Chipucha. With it the sight of the massive dragon and an area that both dragon and rider found themselves taking a deep breath. Smelling the amgic in the air; so thick that it caused Gwyndar to shiver. To shake so violently that the top of his skin rose with goosebumps. A very unfamiliar experience outwith the cold, yet one which warned him of what was to come. With him he had brought all the gold he owned; unsure of how exactly the dark elf believed her payment would be fufilled. Even now he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he was indeed, riding toward his own death. One which could be more violent than perhaps he realised.

Watching the rising sun te rider and dragon swooped down toward a clearing, around a mile away from where he saw the red dragon. Keeping the queen held tight to his chest ad he stepped down from the giant lizard. Walking the last mile until he reached the chosen place. Looking intently into the face of the female elf who faced him knowingly. "I habe brought Silisia" he growled, taking a tentative steo forward, thoughts swirling with the black of death.


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[Nalean Silverstar]

The young blonde was too wound up to even think about sleep. Her and Safron had thrown themselves in harm’s way before they were ready and now they were paying the price for their mistake. She watched the scenery below as they flew over the land, in any other circumstances she would have been watching it fascinated by all the differences between different villages and countries. She was caught up in her own little world, attempting to figure out why she had done what she had done. She had known when she had gone to Samarid that there were risks involved, and that there was a good chance they would have failed at their so called mission. <”Safron, I’m not going to let Gwyndar die. I understand that he shamed your family, but I feel it is not in my place to determine when and how he must die”>, she felt guilty about telling her dragon this now, she had given Auraya her decision hours before, but had decided to wait until she could discuss this with Safron at the right time.

The young half-elf sensed her dragon’s feeling of betrayal. <”I’m sorry I should have told you earlier Saf, please understand. We’re not ready for this. Maybe one day when we have more training and are wiser, but not now”>, the scenery below her was still steadily changing although she hardly took note of the changes. <”I understand, it was wrong of me to expect you to be able to kill them with no training. I was impatient and overconfident, looks like I still have much to learn, both of us do”>, the dragon knew she had placed her rider in danger unnecessarily and could have payed dearly for her mistake if Auraya hadn’t appeared and saved her rider. When they reached Chipucha, Nalean dismounted the massive dragon and waited for Safron to land.

The young dragon landed soon after the much larger dragon and softly huffed, glad to finally have landed at their intended destination. Nalean then walked towards the ancient dragon rider, curious about what she was doing. She had never actually seen this type of magic being performed, she had just always been told that this type of magic was evil and that she should avoid it at all costs. She still kept her distance from the small woman as she was still suspicious about this magic and she was not about to change opinions over night.

She watched the sun rising with a feeling of apprehension in her gut. This was meant to be the sunrise that she met Reynald to begin her training as a dragon rider. <”Don’t worry, it was my fault that you weren’t there. I’ll ensure that he understands it was through no fault of yours that you are not there at this moment”>, the dragon kept a steady gaze on her rider. Everything that had happened to the girl so far was her fault, Nalean was just an innocent young girl who had been pushed into this by herself. All this just so that her family could regain their honour. She knew now that it was not their destiny to kill Gwyndar and Siluth, she just hoped that there was another way for her family to regain their so called honour. She couldn’t help but step back when Gwyndar appeared with Silisia’s body in his arms, she knew it was her fault that Silisia was dead and nothing she did or said would change that fact.

count : 586
tags : Auraya, Gwyndar
noted : JELLYBEANS!
credited : KBIRD of caution 2.0

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[auraya sylvian]

TELL ME THAT YOU'VE GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANT
&& Y O U R B I R D C A N S I N G
BUT YOU DON'T GET ME, YOU DON'T GET ME

The air did not stir as Auraya sense the black dragon of Gwyndar land. Avria stirred restlessly, and let out a piercing, ethereal cry. Her large teeth glimmered in the bloody morning sun. The eerie silence settled once more upon the bleeding earth as Gwyndar stepped into the elf’s line of sight. A small, triumphant smile touched her lips at his ragged, broken form. She almost felt pity welling up in her body as she regarded his expression. She had much time to view him, as he had chosen to walk a great distance. Perhaps he thought it would be their last time together. Auraya turned her cold, emotionless eyes toward Nalean. The girl was probably too young and innocent to willingly claim the title of murderer. However, with that said, Auraya had become a murderer at this age as had Gwyndar. Perhaps she would continue the bloody cycle of the rouge dragon rider. There was no concrete thought Auraya could base her expectations upon. Perhaps Gwyndar would die this day and Silisia would forever remain lost in the world without him and without her Kingdom.

Avria turned her attention to the young dragon beside her, her expression cold and scolding. Swishing her tail, the dragon glared angrily at the hatchling.
<“You have been incredibly irresponsible, young one,”> she growled, her scales bristling in indignation. No sane dragon would risk their rider’s life as it also meant risking their own. <“You too would have died with the death of your rider, even with such a new bound.”>
She shook her great head in disappointment. Reynald would be the pair’s best hope, but would also cost them dearly. The ancient dragon and its rider could not imagine Reynald taking this very lightly. Auraya too would probably have to pay the price of his rage. Perhaps his rage that they had not informed him or even followed her. Whatever it was, neither could imagine him being glad that they had succeeded in bringing Nalean and Safron home safely.
<“Not only have you risked your rider’s life but also the lives of mine in Reynald’s rage. Did you even consider the implications of you leaving?”> she growled, not wanting to even hear the young dragon’s response.

Auraya, however, remained placid. Her anger had been subdued. Although the girl had been foolish, she was alive and whatever happened, in the end all that matter was that she lived. A thought intruded and Auraya quickly pushed it away. What if Reynald thought she had kidnapped or stolen his prospective trainee and fled from him again? Her anger rose like a quick burst of fire. She regarded the girl for a heavy moment.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” she said as pleasantly as she could muster, “to Reynald.”
She turned her attention back to the approaching rider. Her eyes danced over the red dress of the queen’s and the horrific blood stain that had seeped through most of the bodice. She had forgotten how much blood there was in the human body. It had been such a long time since she had killed with her bare hands. Of course, there was no reason to kill like that when one possessed magic.

She tilted her head, listening to the rush of his gruff voice rush over her. There was something exhilarating listening to the voice of someone who had lost everything. It contained something Auraya had forgotten how to possess. It expressed a humanity that she had left behind. A small, comforting smile gingerly extended itself about her lips. It was a smile she had neglected for a long time.
“I can see you brought her,” she said lazily, slightly baffled that he needed to point out that the body in his arms was the queen’s. However, the use of her name made the whole thing so much sweeter. She took a step toward him, her eyes twinkling in a dark knowledge.

“Give her this,” she said as softly and compassionately as she could manage. She extended her arm to pass him the stained silver cup. She dared not move too close into his personal space. Even a non magical being in grief could do a great amount of damage, especially if she was not ready for it. She stood still, her arm still extended to him. She would not suggest he lay her down as she doubted he would easily oblige.
“It will take a few moments and she’ll be very disorientated,” she said softly, warning the rider. It was a risky business bringing the dead back, but she hoped the short delay would make things easier. Remaining still, her pale eyes flickered over the rider’s features. She could certainly see why the queen was drawn to him, but could not exactly know why she had chosen to be with an infamous murder. Auraya did not regard him as scum as most thought for that would mean regarding herself as scum. No, the infamous had to gain an understanding of each other.

Auraya turned her head demurely at Nalean. Her eyes twinkled with a bit of compassion.
“You can make your judgement once the woman has woken,” she said, avoiding calling her a queen. She knew that that title would have been passed on already. < “Know that if he is to die, it is your duty to carry out the deed.”>
“Just give them a moment,” she said in an awkward compassion. Turning her attention back to the rider, she waited for him to act.

tagging Gwyndar, Nalean etc
outfit in the pic
words 923
lyrics your bird can sing by the beatles
notes blah
credits this was made by brooke !

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[Gwyndar]

T H E Y W I L L N O T F O R C E U S

[/size]
and they will stop degrading us
T H E Y W I L L N O T C O N T R O L U S
and we will be victorious

Fighting the growl in his throat at the elf's indication of laze Gwyndar held his head high, turning his eyes from her as he bared his teeth angrily. It was sityations like these that made him pleased that he had become maddened over time. Becoming more animal than man sometimes. It was the survival method that many before him had adapted, taking on the feral behaviour just so that he was indistinguishable from the animals around him. Sad as the thought was it was his main means of keeping himself at the top of the food chain. Behave like the animals he hunted. Siluth helped of course, no creature would survive a single firey blast from the beast.

He had told his rider that he would hunt not far from their meeting place and would return if there was any and all signs of distress. He was violently protective of his rider. Despite what anyone spoke of him he knew his riders true meaning of living. As a young rider he had been swept into a sea of lies and spiraling gossip. It was the way communications were aided through the media. Flyers still wafted occasionally through empty streets. Warning of the long thoughts dead young rider who had brought around the untimely demise of an elder and his dragon. The memory of which still haunted him to this day, if he were to take with a start the nearest creature normally well fate to his attacking. Siluth in way of training him on his own had suffered many scarring blows from the young hot headed rider. It was all part of them becoming closer each day. <"Remember not to trust this one Gwyndar. I can smell the darkness within her."> He had warned, his voice a booming reminder in the half elven mans head.

<"I will not forget."> he replied simply, his mind far away from simple protection, his instincts were keen enough that he could rely on them when the time came. For now all he cared for was the woman he held to him, protecting her from sight, from the paranoia that was whispered words of disapointment in his mind. The swirling depression that had suprised him by setting into his head. A life without Silisia living? So soon after their meeting made it impossible for him to believe she was dead.

But she was. She was dead and if his gut instincts told him anything worth listening to she would remain that way. But if doing this meant his own demise then he cared not for his own life; but in the idea that he would no longer have to live with the knowledge that he was living in the shadow of a death he once again caused. If he had only followed her before she left; if only he had not looked for the cause before he moved. If he had listened in to Siluths thoughts as he assessed the situation. Surly he would have smelled the other dragons in the area.

To his side he saw the blonde hair of a female that for a split second he thought he recognised. He hadn't truly taken notice of her despite their previous meeting and after today he hoped to never have such a meeting again. After today he would be quite happy to have his emotions cut out of him and return to the life he had been living previously. Until the moment he had saved the Queen from the fate of the dragon rider poison Gwyndar was able to survive far easier. Without a care to anyone who got in his way. That was how he preferred it.

Yet without even looking back at the elven woman Gwyndar seemed to understand that in her grasp was the gift of life that was now owed in debpt to Silisia. It was his responsibility he felt; to regain her life for her. to put right what in his mind he had caused damage.

He felt it was through no fault other than his own that meant her death, that if he had been more vigilant and not distracted he could have saved her. Not watch her perish. So; without question and without word he took the goblet from her taintily small hands. Not noting the expression on her face or their surroundings. All he could see was a hazr around him and Sil. Him and his love.

Slowly, he lowered himself and the Queen, so tht he crowched on his hanches. Giving him room to lay his beautiful queen down and keeping her sitting almost upright as he kept an arm wrapped around her securly. <"I promise you love ... I solemnly promise. I will do whatever this takes."> He mourned, lowering his head to place a kiss on her forhead. the coldness of her skin causing his grief to resurface, once more alerting him to her death. Even catching the comment that the cure may take some time, and may disorient her ... he knew it needed to be done.

"You will be well again Silisia." He mumbled into her hair before rightening himself again. Years of balancing aiding him and his cramp effective calves.

Tipping the goblet to her lips he manipulated her enough that the liquid would go down her throat. Not to her lungs. A simple rub of her throat would ensure such an act. Once the liquid was gone, upended and drained he set the goblet down, his other arm curling around his woman protectively. "what now." He mumbled, his voice low and thick with the emotion of loss.[/center]

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

- - YOU WERE ALONE BEFORE WE MET, NO MORE FORLORN THAN ONE COULD GET
HOW COULD WE KNOW WE HAD FOUND TREASURE HOW SINISTER AND HOW CORRECT
*IT WAS A LEAP OF FAITH I HAD TO TAKE, A PROMISE I COULD NOT MAKE
- - - - - - - - - - my broken heart

Blood trickled through her hand before she felt the searing agony. Looking at her bloody fingers, the queen took a dazed steady step forward, her breathing shallow. Attempting to heal herself, she probed her magic into her body. Blood, there was only blood. Horror rushed through her. There was no way she had enough energy to heal herself. Agony filtered into her mind; the agony of grief. Finally finding someone to live for, in this moment, it was all wrenched away. Her eyes search for Gwyndar as her breathing became laboured and her sight began to blur.
< “Gwyndar...”>

[/color] she called out, struggling to make the final connection. She looked up to see the bow man raise his bow to shoot again. Who was he? Defeat, utter defeat, laced her mind. The queen fell, her final act in Samarid ending in bloodshed.

The memories seemed to fade and twist in time, awaiting something. There was no move between this world and that, and although she could sometimes glimpse into the meadows of the hereafter, there was a pull to stay in the world that she had left. Time seemed to lose all significance and her identity faded away. Laughter touched her ears. Peace echoed in the laughter.
“Mother,”[/color] a cry of delight touched her ears. Even after years of absence, she could recognise her own child’s voice. She ran toward the sound. Glimpses of her family’s faces touched her mind. Overcome by the emotion, her attempts to reach them faded. However joyous she felt, she knew she was leaving something very important behind; someone very important. But before she could choose to stay, she was wrenched from the eternal tranquillity and from her family again.

Her mind returned to her body with the starting of her broken heart. The flesh closed itself again and new blood rushed freely down her breakable human body. A familiar voice stirred in the depth of her foggy mind. Her mind was slow and sluggish as she felt herself gasp for precious breaths of air. The pale blue of her eyes reflected the red morning as she finally achieved opening them. Confused and disorientated, she tried not to move her head. Where the arrow had gone in, some blood trickled out before the wound sealed itself. The pain that came with the wound throbbed and faded, until there was little left. Panic enveloped her as she grappled to remember herself. She stared up dumbly at the man who slowly came into focus. Across her cold, almost lifeless skin, she felt the pressure of someone holding her up. Her eyes fluttered closed again as she attempted to piece together the situation .Warmth returned to her skin, along with the protest of pain that the warm blood brought. She shuddered a little, trying to hold onto her dull senses.

A connection opened and she found herself caught between herself and another person. A man. Uncurbed affection rushed through her. While she did not recognise herself, she knew him.
“Gwyn...” [/color]she whispered softly, her voice thick from what seemed to be an eternity of sleep. She slowly raised her hand as she opened her eyes and touched his face gently. The coarseness of his unshaven face shifted into her mind as a stark reality. She noted the heaviness in his eyes.
“Why are you sad?”[/color] she whispered, a confusion touching her eyes. As the sun lifted heavily in the sky, she looked around at the situation. A small woman stood a few steps away, accompanied by a blonde tall one. The shadow of a huge beast shifted in the back ground.

Distress began to shift through her mind. She dropped her hand again, and tried to remember as she gazed at rugged man holding her. She could remember the intensity of his eyes. A dingy shop echoed into her mind, like a very old memory. The tape played over, picking up quality as the memory progressed. Everything after soon followed; the poison, the cave, the man saving her life, and then later at the cave. A small smile of recognition touched her mind.
< “I love you,”>[/color] she thought is surprise, as a small delight of piecing herself together rang through her. Her name; she attempted to piece it together by desperately racking through her memories.

< “My name... I am Sil... Silisia,”>[/color] a small breath of relief left her lips as she found her name. The rest would come soon, she hoped. Perhaps all she truly needed to know was her name and his name. Perhaps that was all that really mattered.
“What happened?”[/color] she asked, her voice becoming a little stronger. “Who are they?”[/color]
Distress moved through her as she looked at the small woman. She knew she could not trust her nor could she trust the blonde girl near her. She moved closer to the man holding her, resting her head against his chest. If there was one thing she knew, was that she needed him. Her breathing became easier and the pain of life returning to her skin faded away. She almost felt human again. Weak and tired but human.





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i did not mean for it to go this far, for me to see you cry
LISTENED TO YOUR SCREAMS OF RAGE, WATCH MY LIFE SLIP AWAY
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
FOR GWYNDAR, NALEAN, AURAYA. 8 5 6 WORDS. TEMPLATE BY SPECIAL K !.

[Nalean Silverstar]

Safron did not lower her gaze for a moment. She stared defiantly at the ancient dragon, even though deep down she knew the dragon was right. If something had happened to Nalean she would have had only herself to blame. <”Oh”> was the only reply the dragon could think of without making a bigger fool of herself than she had already made. <”No I didn’t”> the young dragon admitted knowing now what type of danger she had put her rider in. Safron hung her head slightly, feeling ashamed of herself. She had not even been bonded to Nalean for a week and she had already thrown the young rider in harm’s way.

Nalean sighed and shook her head at Auraya’s words. “Can’t wait,” she muttered, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice. She pulled away slightly at the amount of blood that had seeped through the bodice of Silisia’s dress. She had never had issues with blood, it was just the amount of blood present that put her off. Nalean had no idea what she had gotten herself into, she was currently surrounded by madness and this wasn’t even the full group of mad individuals. She had been drawn into this world of bloodshed and madness without being given an option of leaving and going back to her previous life. The fact that this had happened so quickly scared her, why couldn’t these event occur at a slower rate and give her some time to adjust to what was happening to her.

Nalean bit her lip at Auraya’s words, she had known that this moment would come and even though her decision had been made hours earlier, Gwyndar’s pain cemented her decision. She would not be the reason for another’s death. She watched Silisia wake up and felt a huge weight come off her shoulders, the queen was alive again and Nalean would not have to live with the fact that she was dead, although that did little to improve her current situation. She glanced at Auraya, wondering if the ancient rider knew what her decision would be. “I choose to let him live” she said softly, still surprised to not hear the growl of disapproval come from Safron. She had expected her dragon to react in some way to her decision, instead Safron merely gave her a nod of acceptance. She gave Safron a confused look. <”It is my duty as your dragon to accept the decision made in these circumstances. Whether or not I agree with your decision”>, the dragon pulled her fangs back into what could be described as a smile. <”And do you agree with my decision?”>

<”To a certain degree, it was wrong of me to expect you to perform such a task with little training let alone no training,”> the dragon bowed her head slightly, knowing that it was likely that she would be punished for her brash actions. She would ensure that Nalean was punished, if it had been up to the girl she would have ensured that they would have met Reynold at the allocated place and time. They would not have gone to Samarid, the queen would not have died and Nalean would not have been forced to decide on whether or not Gwyndar lived. This was all her fault and she would not let her young rider suffer for her mistakes, even if the girl had gone along with her plans willingly. She should not have been so set on restoring the honour of her family, she should have waited and let the girl receive the training needed to defeat a rider and his dragon.

Nalean frowned at Silisia’s words, it was apparent that the queen could not remember who they were, yet she could remember Gwyndar. Silisia couldn’t remember what had happened, she looked at Auraya in confusion. “Why can’t she remember what happened?” she asked, oblivious to the answer that was staring her in the face. As a healer one would think that the answer would be apparent to her, but for some reason it wasn’t.

count : 679
tags : Auraya, Gwyndar, Silisia
noted : rawr
credited : KBIRD of caution 2.0

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[auraya sylvian]

TELL ME THAT YOU'VE GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANT
&& Y O U R B I R D C A N S I N G
BUT YOU DON'T GET ME, YOU DON'T GET ME

Avria grumbled at the hatchling’s reply. Of course the creature had not thought over the consequences. They never seemed to be able to understand such consequences. She bared her long teeth at the young dragon, growling in annoyance.
< “Well I hope your lesson has been learnt youngling,”> she concluded gruffly, hoping that the young ever so foolish dragon had truly understood the consequences of her action.
< “There is no more a scared bond than that between rider and dragon. Let that be this morning’s lesson,”> she growled, her tail whipping violently. It would replace the lesson Reynald was supposed to give. The young dragon and the young rider had much to learn and their greatest lesson would need to learn. A small warning lit Avria’s eyes as she regarded the shameful looking, overzealous dragon.

Auaraya grinned wryly and somewhat sadistically at the girl’s words. She would have to deal with Reynald. Perhaps Auraya would only return later, merely to wash her hands of the young girl and the hatchling’s irresponsibility. She said very little to the young girl, as her eyes latched onto the approaching murderer. A smirk played at her lips as she saw Nalean flinch away from the sight of the blood that had saturated the queen’s dress. The thought of blood did not distress the ancient being at all, and it was amusing to see someone who was still sensitised to the fluid. When life remained lazily long and luxurious, death was fascinating. On occasion, she thought herself to be willing to die but at other times she knew she still had much wrong to right, starting with Reynald. She did not, however, have to be charitable to the young rider he had chosen to take on... or whatever else he would use her for. Her actions tonight would prove to be her downfall eventually. After taking on one failure rider, Auraya could not help but speculate how Reynald would react to this.

Auraya shifted her attention to Gwyndar as he took the goblet from her. Quickly relinquishing her grasp, she watched him curiously as he lowered her. The affection in his touch was almost sickening and strangely familiar. It made her long for a time long since passed, where Reynald may have done the same for her and her for him. But alas, time died. As soon as one thought one grasped the tendrils of time, it slipped away, leaving a path of dead, lifeless memories. There seemed to be no reality, only a string of memories passed. Avria growled at her rider thinking of her previous elder. She always maintained it was no good to dwell in the past. The only constant is change, she reasoned logically. For an immortal, it was easier to see this. She averted her eyes, giving the rider a private moment with his fallen love. A pang of regret touched her mind. If she had really considered it, she could have merely rescued the stray girl from the city. Yet, perhaps she was doing them a favour as the possibility existed that Silisia would not have to return to the throne and they could be together without abandon.

The elf looked back at his words, a small smile touching her lips. Not a comforting smile, don’t be mistaken.
“Now?” she said musically. “Now you wait and wait for your judgement. Oh, here it is. You shall live rider. However, you owe me a great debt. Perhaps you shall join us. I shall see what my Elder dictates. He is both wise and old.”
Her words were not a request. As Silisia stirred, the elf turned her eyes sharply upon the woman. The journey from the underworld was especially unpleasant if they met someone they wished to remain with. This transition seemed fairly easy though. A small, satisfied smile touched her lips as her eyes flickered open for the first time. Ah, it had worked.

Surprise touched her face as the queen immediately recognised the rider. Perhaps there was something she was missing between the two. Her frown dulled while she watched the fallen queen live once more. With ease, she turned to face the young girl.
“The brain takes the longest to heal. The memories fade in the oxygen deprived brain. It will take awhile for her to fully recover her memories, and usually they only come back with triggers,” she said lightly, and knowledgably. She allowed a moment to pass, letting Gwyndar see to the queen’s needs. Of course, she had not thought about what to do with the queen in the whole situation. She doubted that either would let each other from their sight now.
“Do you wish to keep her with you, or send her back to her kingdom, Rider?” she said softly and almost dangerously. “Or will you let her decide? Or perhaps we should ask the foolish girl who got as all into this situation.”
Her eyes darkened, “Girl,” she growled not knowing her real name. She could pretend she bought the Addy lie, but she did not, “what is your judgement of what should happen?”

She was deliberately making the girl’s situation tough, in order to learn lessons about consequences. She could only jope Nalean would turn out to be nothing like her.

tagging Gwyndar, Nalean etc
outfit in the pic
words 881
lyrics your bird can sing by the beatles
notes blah
credits this was made by brooke !

[/center][/blockquote]

[Gwyndar]

T H E Y W I L L N O T F O R C E U S

[/size]
and they will stop degrading us
T H E Y W I L L N O T C O N T R O L U S
and we will be victorious

There was no denying the absolute loss that had been felt by the rider at the severing of the mental connection that he had felt with Silisia after her death. No thoughts could describe the physical pain it had caused him to feel the cut of their mental thread that held them together. He could not explain it to himself and when probed by his dragon for what had been causing the three solid frown lines on his forhead he simply blocked him out. Focusing only on the physical masochistic pain that he felt at the death of Queen Silisia. His Sil. She belonged to him just as he did to her. Not because of what she had physically given him as a token of his position but through his promise to protect her.

A promise he had regretfully failed to keep. However it did occur to the loneson rider many times during the time past that he was in fact the main cause of her death. That his alliance with her was what put her in danger. There would be no way to hide the celebratory return of a dragon rider to Samarid; nor the fact that more than half the court and subjects thought of him as lower than scum for the acts he had commited in his youth. Scared and alone ... he reacted only to what he knew. To what he saw was the right thing to do. Even now as he stared with a loving sense of duty over Silisia he knew that he was endangering her simply by association. It was no secret there was still a price on his head.

So while holding on to her, gently, gripping the soft tender skin tht had turned an ashen grey over the night he could not contain the choking sob of laughter that bubbled through his throat as he watched her eyes open. Her gaze searching, settling on him and the glaze he had seen from her death gone. Replaced with a life that worried the rider no end. Was it the life she had been ripped from? or that of another?

If it was to be his life in replacement he had no problem. For the price of another he worried that he would once more have the guilt of another death over his head. Bringing his guilt ridden total to a collective 341 over the past half a decade. One would think that a single more would make no difference to the heavy weight he constantly held over his shoulders. But each bloodshed on his hands added to the pain that he felt over such acts. He despised himself each time he killed. But every time Siluth was quick to chastise him for regretting being alive. Those were simply the cards he had been given. And the 24 year old needed to live up to his age. Not act like a petulant child.

<"I am here my love. I am here."> He crooned, his gaze catching hers in focus, blinking away the hot tingling behind his eyes and fighting to keep himself in check. He would need to remain on his guard after all. Thus why the reasoning behind his extensive weaponry he adorned. Much in the same way it had been the night he confessed his love for the woman he held so protectively in his arms. Only tightening as his mouth formed a solid line at her spoken remembrance of who he was. "Hello love." He whispered, trying not to show the absolute joy at her return to the living. He was wary that if he were to become to attactched to her ... the mystic dark elven mistress could steal her from him once again. "I'm not sad anymore. Do not think on it." He mumbled, leaning down to speak against her forhead as he simply inhaled the very now un-dead scent that she always had with her.

He understood that it was her life he could sense.

Without the warning he had expected to come, he felt the probign thoughts of another mind enter his again and the sultry sounds of Silisias voice was once more occupied within his own. He almost laughed at the sound. It was marvelous. And something he had began to worry had been lost in her death. The connection however remained, she had come back almost in the same condition as she had been when he was sat with her at the long table during the celebration. Not only had she been returned, her words brought a relief to his thoughts at her declaration. She retained her feelings for him at least. Though it was a pleasant thought, it made it all the harder for him to think that she could perhaps be left alone once more if he was to pay the life debt owed to the woman.

<"You are. Silisia Anja Saffy. Queen of Samarid."> He said in a solid voice that retained his emotions in check. He would not crumble at the thought of losing her again. His pride far surpassed any on the surface feelings. Yet still he could not help but feel a prick pf pain when she questioned what happened to her. He had not the heart to tell her. To brief her on his failure to her. It was a terrible thing he had done. And he doubted he would ever be forgiven for it. Nor did he wish to be forgiven. "I failed you." He whispered roughly. His voice catching and grating out thr words in a thick mess. Though his face did not betray him in the least . "And I am in debted to this woman for the fix to my failure." Though his voice became darker he still did not show any sign of change on his face as he finally looked up at the dark mistress. Having not heard the before comment of his life being spared he looked up with piqued intrest.

"How do you mean let the girl decide." He asked with a short growl in his throat, rumbling through his vibrating chest. His eyes turning to the blonde standing farthest from him, a dangerou glint in his oddly dark, almost black eyes. A void of no return. "She has no control over me. She is but a child." He growled dangerously, standing both himself and Silisia upright. Never once letting her out of his hold. In one swift movement he was once again standing at his menacing height above the others. Something related to his fathers height he was informed. It was one of the few titbits of knowledge he had about the man.
[/center]

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

- - YOU WERE ALONE BEFORE WE MET, NO MORE FORLORN THAN ONE COULD GET
HOW COULD WE KNOW WE HAD FOUND TREASURE HOW SINISTER AND HOW CORRECT
*IT WAS A LEAP OF FAITH I HAD TO TAKE, A PROMISE I COULD NOT MAKE
- - - - - - - - - - my broken heart

The ache of her heart against her chest felt strange and painfully familiar. The muscle, once tore apart, was quickly healing. With each pulse that sent oxygenated blood scurrying through her body, the discomfort lessened. With each breath of the foreign air, tainted with the tremendous power of the old world, the movement became easier. The fogginess eased with each passing moment. A voice, not her own invaded her disconnected mind, and in shock, she almost pushed it out. However, the familiar notes that echoed in the male voice was comforting and strangely familiar. His voice... a voice that had echoed in her mind for the last few... days? She could not tell as her perception of time had been lost. Her breathing evened as he caught her gaze. Here? Where was here? She took a quick glance around her location and found no recognition. The ghostly mist and tormented ruin mocked the situation.

An animalistic fear rushed through her. For the moment, with her memory lapsed she knew little about what was going through her world. The only constant she had was the dark, broody eyes that spoke of years of persecution. The glance was familiar and comforting and Sil found herself caught in his intense gaze. Even the seemingly curbed power in the arms of the man, she felt safe. A small breath of relief escaped her cold lips. Her lips parted in a small smile at his greeting. Her memory was correct and she took solace in that. Even though the fog clouded a great deal of her memories, what seemed to be the most important part lifted. Allowing herself to relax, she put the piecing together of her mind to a rest. Gwyn, Gwyndar... Affection lingered in her eyes as she looked him over. Dragon rider, outcast dragon rider. Murderous dragon rider. She was surprised to find herself not disturbed by that fact, as though she had already made peace with it and it now lingered like a meaningless fact.
“Good,”

[/color] she whispered tiredly. “I do not like to see you sad.”[/color]

The stench of old blood filled her sense. Images of horrific battle fields filled her mind and as she played it over, she realised she was not afraid. Accustomed, she would describe the feeling as. Biting her lip, she looked down at the bodice of her dress. The seemingly once bright red of the dress had been caked in the dull maroon of gallons of dried blood. For a second, she felt sick. No person could survive such a wound. The blood flaked and drifted off, as the woman ran her fingers over the dress. In places, the blood was still somewhat wet. The texture of torn material encountered her probing touch, and she immediately recognised the tear of an arrow. It was her own blood. More confusion arose. How could she be alive? The light of confusion quickly entered her expression.

The voice entered her mind once more. For a moment, she struggled against it, frightened and confused. But the familiar note of it struck her again and she glanced up to the man holding her. It was his voice. Suddenly, she could remember the rider cutting himself and his dragon, collecting the blood, and crushing it with a plant... then the searing agony. That was where she had truly met him. He had saved herself. Blood magic. She had magic too. Ceasing the flow of the rampaging thought, she concentrated on his words.
< “Me, a queen? That’s ridiculous,”>[/color] she concluded without thinking. Not daring to look for the memory, she concluded it would be better not to know. < “I am yours foremost.”>[/color]
The years of fighting against her true nature was caught short in this moment. Abandoning everything, she returned to her true self, away from the politics of the court and with only one person on her mind. If she was a queen, how would they have ever been together? A small frown touched her brow as she tried not to remember.
< “I’m only yours,”> [/color]she said adamantly, somewhat like a child.

There was no way she wanted to believe that she was a queen.

His next words caused her distress. How could he have failed her? The smell of blood touched her senses again.
“I am supposed to be dead,” [/color]she stated. Placing her hand on the bloody bodice again, she could barely comprehend what had happen. The memory of the arrow flying true and fatally into her body rushed through her mind like an old tape. Suddenly, the old pain felt real and the queen trembled. She had gone to the realm of the dead, and now Gwyndar had indebted himself to her resurrection.
“No,” [/color]she gasped, her eyes tearing. “You should not have. I cannot live with you! What if it is your life she asks for mine?”[/color]
Her breathing shallowed as she looked in the direction of the dark elf woman. Her eyes darted franticly between her and her love. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked between the two, and then to the girl who stood a little distance away. So this girl would decide if they could be together.

<”If you are to die, I shall come with you,”>[/color] she said truthfully, her voice cascading in short frantic bursts. Her emotions a little uncontrollably rampaged through her body. Her already strained heart picked up pace. Gwyn’s angry words shattered in her mind. Before she could utter protest, Gwyndar ahd pulled her to her feet. Swaying, she placed her head against his chest. The world swirled sickeningly in her mind. She looked to the blonde girl, not daring to believe any fate that was whispered from her lips. Would the girl be as cruel as the man who had killed her? Better question still, why had she died? Awaiting little answer from her mind, she closed her eyes tightly, trying to regain some of her balance. The body felt clumsy and unbalanced and frail. With a rush she had remembered she had left Gwyndar’s side and thus it had led to her downfall. Guilt welled up and choked the good thoughts from her mind. If he was to die, then it would be her fault.
“It’s my fault,”[/color] she whispered. “I should never have left you and I never will again.”[/color]
Shaken, the queen wrapped her arms around him, unsure of how he would respond. Trying to take deep, even breaths, she attempted to calm her roller coaster emotions. From the memories that filtered back, she was not always like this, in fact she attempted to keep her feelings very much to herself. Uncertainly moved through her mind. Everything was just too precarious for her.


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i did not mean for it to go this far, for me to see you cry
LISTENED TO YOUR SCREAMS OF RAGE, WATCH MY LIFE SLIP AWAY
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
FOR GWYNDAR, NALEAN, AURAYA. 1123 WORDS. TEMPLATE BY SPECIAL K !.

[Nalean Silverstar]

Nalean nodded at Auraya’s explanation. It made sense that that would happen, although healers would never have come across a person who had just risen from the dead so maybe her ignorance of this simple fact could be understandable. Especially since the closest she had come to raising a person from the dead was healing a child who had been suffering from a potentially fatal disease. She wondered how long it would take for Silisia’s memories to return and what would happen to Samarid in her absence. She frowned to herself as she considered the possible future of the country. If Samarid was left leaderless for too long then the country would become vulnerable to its enemies and could be invaded by Sanglant.

A look of surprise appeared on Nalean’s face at Auraya’s words. Why couldn’t just let things be? Did she really have to torture her like this? The guilt she felt from what she had done was bad enough but now Auraya had to rub salt into the wounds by forcing her to make these decisions. She gave Auraya a dark look and shook her head, she knew that forcing Silisia to leave would be a foolish decision as she was sure the quickest way to get her memories back was to keep her around Gwyndar. “She can stay” she simply said softly still furious at Auraya for putting her in this position, she felt this was not her decision to make and Gwyndar was the one who should make it.

She simply shook her head at Gwyndar’s words. He had no idea how wrong he was, she had everything to do with this. It was her fault that he had been placed in this situation, her fault that Silisia had no memory of being queen and her fault that she had died in the first place. She would not argue with his calling her a child, she had a suspicion that he was right about that. Compared to him and Auraya, she felt like nothing more than an ignorant and irresponsible child. She was so drawn into herself that she was not even shaken by Gwyndar drawing himself to his full height. She had no idea what to make about the whole situation. How could one wrong turn make such a mess of things?

She ran her hands through her hair, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to her. She was sure her parents would begin to worry about her soon as she had never been gone for so long before without telling them where she was. How on earth was she going to tell them that she was alive and that they didn’t need to worry about her?

count : 455
tags : Auraya, Gwyndar, Silisia
noted : blergh
credited : KBIRD of caution 2.0

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[auraya sylvian]

TELL ME THAT YOU'VE GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANT
&& Y O U R B I R D C A N S I N G
BUT YOU DON'T GET ME, YOU DON'T GET ME

Boredom lazily wafted through Auraya’s mind. The affectionate site was rather sickening. Sighing, the old elf turned her attention to the shadows of the looming mountains. He sun had risen clear of them, and she knew Reynald would be waiting, and would be furious. Little concern touched her mind at the thought. Biting her lip, she looked back to the waking queen. The magic could even amaze the jaded, world wore figure of the ancient. The mere thought of a person clearing the world of the dead, purely by her hand was phenomenal. Smirking to herself, the elf remained triumphant and self satisfied. She could even forgive the young girl’s transgressions.

The elf smiled as she heard the previously dead queen’s words. Even she knew it was foolish to seek out to being someone back to life. Auraya lazily looked on at the young woman’s distress. The impact of her realisation was tantalising for the ancient. The raw fear seeped from her like a fresh breeze to the elf’s mind. A smirk lifted on her lips as she regarded the tender pair. Oh, the sincerity of it was quite sickening. After all, the man was supposed to be a notorious murderer and the queen was always fabled to be a man hating bitch. Oh, the irony of the world. The murderer with the man-eater, sickeningly in love. Auraya quickly got tired of the idea. Love was fake and the only function it served was to produce hurt in the world.

“You can relax,” Auraya said lightly, not addressing the queen by her title. “You lover gets to live.”
A small smirked played at her lips. A lust for power spread through the ancient. She had not had this much fun in such a long time. The years had spread out like barren wastelands of soulless life; with so little enjoyment it was hard to believe it was life at all. The last few days had certainly proved themselves to worth the wait. After all, what is a few hundred year’s wait when eternity grovelled at your feet? Brushing a strand of dark hair from her face, she regarded the rider’s indignation. Inconsiderate, was what the elf called it, to being such a weak queen to her feet. Tilting her head slightly she listened to the girl’s answer and then to the man’s indignant rant.

A small, cynical smile played upon her lips.
“Now now rider, she has everything to do with what happened and therefore is responsible for the outcome,” she smiled cynically at the rider clutching his woman so close to him. A small sigh left her lips. The man was acting like a barbarian. Although, in truth, he probably was. She shook her head and turned to walk toward Avria. The great beast started forward, ignoring the young beast once more.
“Do we have much else to discuss? Perhaps the fact that you’ll be joining us rider, as payment. Well, you’ll be joining us if the Elder so permits it,” she said lightly. The dragon swept its rider up with her tail and securely placed her upon her shoulder blades.

tagging Gwyndar, Nalean etc
outfit in the pic
words 533
lyrics your bird can sing by the beatles
notes blah, well I officially have a lost muse.
credits this was made by brooke !

[/center][/blockquote]

[Gwyndar]

T H E Y W I L L N O T F O R C E U S

[/size]
and they will stop degrading us
T H E Y W I L L N O T C O N T R O L U S
and we will be victorious

Perturbed by the defiance against her Queendom, Gwyndar let slip the mental abdication. Knowing she would be disorientated and had struggled merely to remember her own name. Her memory would return in due time, he would see to it that she was not disturbed by anyone who could pose a threat to her recouperating. If that meant binding Siluth to her after the life depbt was paid then so be it. He would protect her, as a last wish of his rider. Though only a short time bonded in terms of many of the dragon riders in the world it was something that he felt strongly about; keeping his dragon alive with another mortal. If it meant it was not him then he would just have to deal with that guilt on his own terms. He could not let his idiocy come in between his dragon and life.

He had hindered the great beasts existance enough as it was. <"I will not let your guilt burden you rider. It was my choice to bond with you and for that I take all responsibility for your ... impulsive actions."> <"It is not your burden to carry friend."> The rider snapped automatically, his face lowering at the thought of his existance being anything other than a great inconveniance. <"I have caused you much pain, and for that I regret your bonding. But i do not regret binding us both to Silisia. If I am to die you are still under her alliance. Do not let her harmed again. My soul would not take it."> <"You speak as if you know you are to be the payment. What makes you believe she will not have you kill for her. She knows you have done so before."> "No more ..." He whispered, the thought echoing in his thoughts to the dragon but the great weight of murder sat on his ribcage. Causing him to breath heavier.

It was what caused him such great pain every time he killed. The guilt of having to do so for his own survival. By now had be not killed he would have been hung before. And some nights as he lay thinking he wished sorley for death to find him. The pain ful guilt that followed him wherever he went was almost too much to handle on the shoulders of a young man who had already lost so much of his life.

Each life, by his hand. Blood spilled, it would run down his clenched fist, over his wrist and to the ground. It would drain at his feet in a bloody puddle. Growing larger by the second. The more he stabbed, the more he shot arrows ... the more blood was lost. It was odd seeing someone die. There was a numbness to the experience. each time he found himself desensitised to the emotions that should in hindsight have plagued him. An emptiness that was unlike anything he had experienced before. Not at the death of his mentor, or at the loss of his father before that. Nothing had prepared him for the complete emptiness that had consumed him. Piece by piece breaking his humanity. Forcing its way into his memories and replaying night after night the complete surrender he had over to the evil he felt. He knew his acts where wrong yet there was a sickening realisation each time that for some reason he enjoyed the emptiness. The despair that he had felt when he mourned the death of his elder.

When he had buried the man who had become closer to him than anyone before he had felt the same numbness, but it was encased in the complete and utter defeat. The knowledge that he could not control death; that he was not able to protect those closest to him. The hurt and the pain that should have befallen the rider. But they didn't. He could feel his blood run cold as he watched the brightness pof life drain from his victims eyes. Watching as he extinguished their existance. Once more causing grief and mourning on another house. Blackening his soul more to the darkness around him. He swore sometimes he could see it hovering over him as he slept. Feel it pulsing with each of his heart beats.

Reminding him that he was on stolen time. And if he wanted to continue he would need to steal even more.

What would be next? A mother in front of her children? A pregnant woman? A child?

There would be no stopping the infamous murderer on his quest of survival. Not until that last moment where he stole the life of a babe straight from the womb. Until he could see the infant in its birthing skin, not even clothed. Greying from death ... then he would not and undeniably could not stop what he was known for. Gwyndar was a dragon rider known for the shadow of death that he walked in. He was more a monster than the elf before him. And it was such a thought that caused the great dragon he was bound to, to cry out in agony.

There was so much pain in the riders thoughts that he had not even realised the rushed movements of his rising to his feet. Pulling with him the disorientated woman that had made him want to change so much. But had with her death simply reminded him that he endangered the people around him. Those he cared for more so. For that reason he had been pushing Siluth from him since the day he went on the run. If he was not emotionally attatched there was no reason for him to be targeted.

But he had been stupid and reckless. Putting potentially an entire queendom in danger by his very being there. The nobles would have been right to have him hung on sight. He saw it in their eyes. They all wanted it. "If it is my life in return for yours then the debt will be paid." He growled, menacingly, darknly. An unfamiliar look of hunger in his eyes as he thought of how he would die. There would be blood. Finally his own blood would be that spilled. Finally he would be able to feel the physical pain that went with the emotional torture he had condemned himself to. Following with a loud roar of "No!" at the mental notion of her following him into what was to again be her death.

"You shall not follow me, and though i be within your command in times of danger I shall do the same of you. You will not be another bloodless heart at my command. Never again!" He roared. Letting his hands go of the woman and removing her arms from him in their embrace, being sure only that she would not fall right down on herself again before stepping from her and putting his hands to his head. A low hissing growl in his throat as he felt the anger from Siluth raging through him. <"You stupid boy! You are comdemning yourself."> <"That is exactly what I am doing."> He retorted, ignoring the channel and leaving the thought open. He cared not of the others heard. He had had enough.

He had been so caught up in the hatred, the pain and the self loathing that the idea of the litle girl being part of his life almost became laughable. Who was she to him but a stranger. Someone whose dragon was known to Siluth as blood, newly hatched and therefore newly bonded. She was nothing more than another face in the crowd. And someone who so he was told, was reponsible for everything that happened. "Let anything befall Silisia again and i will run my blade through your heart so slowly you will feel every inch of its cold metal. The guilt is on my consience, let her fate rest on your head." He growled, watching at the elven rider lithely mounted the impressively large red dragon. <"Who is your elder."> He said defeated after a moment of contemplation. <"Give me time with Silisia, then I shall find you and your elder. I will pay her debt.">
[/center]

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

- - YOU WERE ALONE BEFORE WE MET, NO MORE FORLORN THAN ONE COULD GET
HOW COULD WE KNOW WE HAD FOUND TREASURE HOW SINISTER AND HOW CORRECT
*IT WAS A LEAP OF FAITH I HAD TO TAKE, A PROMISE I COULD NOT MAKE
- - - - - - - - - - my broken heart

Thoughts, broken and whole, raced through her mind, tugging at old memories. Occasionally a new one slipped through her mind. Gwyndar’s story was one of the first memories in her mind. She glanced down at her left hand, where a thin strip of cloth was daintily bound around it. She tugged at the neat bow with her other hand. The wound looked dead, as though blood had never passed through it. Her skin, a soft deathly pale, was beginning to become pink again. The whole phenomenon was curiously fascinating. She tried to grasp tendrils of her deathly memories. A face entered her mind, of a young girl around the age of eight, with golden curls and the brightest of blue eyes. Instinctively, she touched a hand to her stomach. She had had a family, long ago. Biting her lip, she looked over the strange expression on Gwyndar’s face. A slow, marching headache announced its arrival. There was merely too much going on for one day. A small, painful sigh escaped her lips.

Turning her face to the small woman, a sense of relief touched her mind. Gwyndar would live. Her only connection to the outside world would live. Her love would live. She could not bear his loss. It would be all too much for the newly resurrected woman. After all, she had nothing else to live for and she wanted nothing other than the dark rider. Her relief was short lived. He seemed to have convinced himself that he was to die. Stunned, she stared at him dumbly. Did he want to die? Uncertainty wavered through her as she stared at him dumbly.
“Gwyn... no,”

[/color]she murmered only to be cut off by his howl of what she perceived to be rage. Unsettled, she stopped all her thoughts, an old habit when being encountered with forceful statements. Her breathing rate increased and the rise and fall of the bloody bodice quickened. Her heart pounded uncomfortably against her chest as she listened to his words.

As he let go of her, she swayed slightly, a small amount of hurt beginning to brew. She staggered backwards, away from him, her swirling blue eyes flooded with confusion. Short, ragged breaths tore through her lungs as she watched the elven woman walk away. Her thoughts blocked out Gwyndar, as her final attempt to ease the hurt. She looked dumbly at the blonde girl, and then back at the Gwyndar who spoke aggressively to her. Sil felt a surge of compassion for the young girl caught in the crossfire. As she watched the elf mount the dragon lithely, she contemplated her words.

“I can’t live without you Gwyndar,” [/color]she said, her voice hinting a soft melancholy. “I can’t watch you destroy yourself. She said you could live!”[/color]
Her final exclamation was said in defeat, and held no real conviction other than desperation. She began to walk, touching her hand to her aching head. Exhausted she moved to a large stone and sat down, cradling her head in her hands. She resisted the tears that were welling up in her eyes and an intense defensive aggressive threatened to take over. She hated being vulnerable and she hated the idea that Gwyndar would give her life for her. Distress moved eagerly through her, conquering her rationality and her desire to convince him to see reason. It was utter desperation that ruled her mind, and healing stopped. Her body, confused by the stress of the situation, stopped putting its wasted resources into repairing her and into putting her into fight or flight mode.

She looked up, the indication of strain not hiding shamefully on her face. She desperately tried to claw for more information that could help her but with each desperate attempt, the information slipped further away. What would she do without gwyndar? Why was he so intent of killing himself? She could stay with him and in return for her life; he was bound to their group. Why then was he trying to get himself killed and signing his own death warrant? Death Warrant... an image of a hanging took place in her head. Her breath caught for a moment as she recognised the face. It was the face that had killed her family; the face that had taken away her innocence. She began to tremble, everything becoming too overwhelming too soon. She saw herself, in an elaborate dress, standing clinically in a podium watching it. No remorse or sadness touched her past face. It was as though the man deserved it. A hatred boiled up in reminder of the emotion of the day. Hatred and grief. She looked at Gwyn. Did he believe he deserved to die? Silisia could not fathom it.

“They said you can live,” [/color]she murmured to herself. “Live, not die.”[/color]
Her brow knitted in pain and confusion, and she looked at the dark features of the rider, her face a picture of confusion.










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i did not mean for it to go this far, for me to see you cry
LISTENED TO YOUR SCREAMS OF RAGE, WATCH MY LIFE SLIP AWAY
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FOR GWYNDAR, NALEAN, AURAYA. 823 WORDS. TEMPLATE BY SPECIAL K !.