The expanse of the forest covered any foreseeable horizon. The massive redwood sentries rose from the darkness of the surface, unwavering to the unsought guests in their midst. Water veins leaked through the cracks in the forest ceiling, still draining from the numerous nights of rain.
Small pools formed at the roots, reflecting the fleeting darkness. Pre-dawn’s air crept out from the noses of the forest’s guests, with a low fog hovering about their boots. The morning dew shimmered softly at sight of the torch, but the real spectacle is when daylight breaks.
On this early morn, the Devote set out from Andescion to train their new recruits in pacification of the forest’s beasts. It would be on this day they lay the foundation of beast soothing, the art of calming any creature across all of Melacalya. She paused at a small ridge, taking in the calm of the atmosphere. Two cycles ago, it was her being led out here to hone her talents. Now, she would lead her own recruits on their first ranging.
Farrah LaCroix came up beside her, with Dustin Silverwood close on their heels with the torch. “How far out are we?” Both of the women turned to his whisper.
With one hand preoccupied lighting the path, Dustin still managed to entertain himself by tossing around his newly acquired dagger. He hadn’t had it long, but there was no doubt he was fond of it. Ragged at the edges, maybe not the best of steel, but capable of taking a life all the same. Dustin smiled, continuing to flip the blade precariously.
“You can have it if you want. I’ll trade for those chakras.” He eyed the two chakras fastened at her hips. Bainite steel, encircled in ebony, unfit for the unseasoned lad. Lyla Zephyr unfastened one of the chakras off her back hip and spun it in the palm of her hand. “The sooner you learn your mark, the sooner you get better arms.” She allowed the blade to slow, then fastened it back all in one motion.
Ignoring Dustin, Lyla closed her eyes and listened for the river; the rush of water draws nearer. Daylight will break any moment. She leapt down from the ridge and continued a steadied pace. Dustin called out after her, “Wait, how far out are we?!”
Farrah smiled a silent laugh, walking past Dustin to keep pace with Lyla. Dustin stood in disbelief for a moment, shrugged, jumped down, and continued trailing them. The soft whip of the flipping dagger picked up again.
I was told I was kissed by the wisps of the forest at my first birth, and through that embrace they gave me their gift; the mark of the ranger. Even after twenty-four cycles, it still felt strange. That one could see into the soul of any beast and find its torment.
The trick was being able to speak to the soul directly, forming a bond. Each creature was unique in the culmination of their will, spirit, and overall prowess in nature. One day I will bind to the flight of a wyvern. A rare validation of a ranger’s potential. A pride, a coalition, it made no matter. Lyla yearned to use these gifts to their fullest potential. Failure is not simply not an option. She could soothe a beast, even bend some to her will, but she had yet to form the bond between two souls. It was said that once a ranger binds their soul to a beast, they become inseparable and can think and act as one when need be.
Daylight began to pierce the canopy, fingers of light brushing the surface and droplets reflecting a crimson aura off the dark bark of the trees. The sight was beyond captivating. The darkened display of the redwoods gave the Bloodwood Forest its name. The wisp that lived here may be gone, but the eneryia lingers still.
Lyla brought the group to a halt, taking it all in, letting the soft rush of the river paint the soundscape. This time Farrah slowly fell to her knees and listened with her. With eyes closed, it was easier to see through other senses, the mark of the ranger heightened when focused. This mark is theirs to find, not mine.
Farrah lowered her hands to the dirt, waiting for the way to reveal itself. She steadily looked around her surroundings with eyes still shut. When she tilted her head northward her eyes gradually opened. “We are close, a little farther aways over that passing.”
Lyla opened her eyes and followed alongside Dustin. “Do you feel them, Dustin?” The question seemed to throw Dustin off guard, his fingers nearly missing the hilt of his dagger.
Hesitation lingered on every word. “I feel the movement… of what I cannot be certain, but there is movement nearby.” He is unsure of the mark. Farrah heard but did not look back, her track was set, unwavering to outside sounds.
Lyla watched Farrah’s movements while she stayed alongside Dustin. The two of them trailed Farrah out of range of a whisper’s earshot. She spoke softly, sincere, “Focus on the movement and let it resonate within you. Let it take form within you and reveal its shape. Should you find your mark fleeting, go back to the source.”
Dustin closed his eyes, fading into a reduced pace. Lyla watched with intent till the moment he stirred. “I’ve never seen the like of these creatures, their shape eludes me,” After a long pause, “but there are nine of them up ahead.”
The gaze of frustration was vividly painted upon his face. Lyla smiled warmly, “You need not second guess your thoughts, Dustin. Your instincts are why you are here, you were given the gift.”
Once he realized he had exposed himself, he tossed the evidence more swiftly than the turn of his blade. “The gift picks a suitor. I guess I ought to be thankful I was not fodder for the wyvern… or fodder for the Legion’s fists.” He tossed his blade again. “To be quite honest, the wyvern’s bite looked a more ‘just’ death.”
Lyla let her hand stride across the tarul leaves that hugged the base of the passing tree lines. Eneryia or not, the question was plain to see. The ceremony had passed a few moons’ back, but she did not need to look through him to see the scene was a haunting painting in the back of Dustin’s mind. From the side of her vision, she saw Dustin slow to a halt. “What that Deathwalker said though, the gifts can’t be taught, can they?” Dustin’s words caught Farrah’s attention. She curiously glanced over her shoulder and slowed her pace considerably till she stopped as well.
The water droplets beaded around Lyla’s hand, her fingertips gently teasing the leaves. It had been many a cycle since any known soul of Andescion had seen a wisp, the only true teachers of the ways of eneryia. “Some say the wisps walk among us. Though I have not seen one with my own eyes. For all we know, we are the chosen.” Who was he to question everything the guilds had given Andescion. Life was far from perfect in the city, but the pursuit to bring Arias home was noble and true. “He was blind in prudence to make such bold proclamations.” The water droplets began to drip off her fingertips and she walked a slightly faster pace. Steadfast in the mission; bind the wyvern, bring Arias home.
The passing hour was spent in silence while they trekked deeper into the forest’s grasp. The redwoods grew bolder and more defined out here, the trunks were thicker, while the roots wildly flowed both above and below the surface, free from the confinements of the city limits. The tarul plants that entangled the base of their columns presented flora that could encompass them all. They were beautiful. Massive sheets of rich green leaves, strong enough to cup water from the rain, yet still delicate enough to sway gracefully with the breeze.
Keeping an eye on Farrah, Lyla closed her eyes once more. A distant current flowed through her, extending just far enough to touch the breath of the wilderness that the Bloodwood had to offer. Not many creatures dwelled so close to the forest’s edge, within reach of Andescion. One had to grab hold of the river and reach far out into the wilderness to get a glimpse of the wonder that lie beyond. And with wonder comes the impious that dwell amongst them.
Up ahead, a dense gathering of vines and flora had brought Farrah to a muted step. Lyla slowed in sync with her, all three of the Devote drawn to what lay ahead. An opening in the trees revealed a small grove where nine beauke were feeding off the rich grasses cut short from grazing.
They’re magnificent creatures. Their coarse fur painted an elegant oaken brown, trailing to a white snow’s underbelly. On all fours, the tallest stood a little over two meters, the smallest still an impressive one and a half meters. The tallest of the beauke watched the three Devote approach. It showed no signs of aggression. With muscle toned enough to crush us in one swift stampede, we pose no threat to these creatures.
Lyla was the first to step through the vines and into the clearing. A closer look revealed the intricate texture of the antlers on the beauke. With the same hue parallel to the darkened redwoods, the antlers were well camouflaged. Equally beautiful as they are deadly. Over half and one meters in reach. If provoked, it would not be an easy task to escape the beauke’s grasp.
The alpha beauke kept his gaze on Lyla, but the rest of the herd paid Lyla no mind when she approached. Her eyes shimmered in darkened green when she walked closer. The aura around her began to emerge. Just a few steps closer… Incrementally, she moved her hands along his antlers down to his face. As the ranger’s aura around her grew, she saw.
She saw well beyond the clutches of the Andescion city. From the caress of the hills to the sweet kiss of the valleys, Lyla journeyed with the herd into the Heart of the Bloodwood Forest. Even before the Heart appeared, she could feel it beating when the herd drew close. The steady vibrations thrummed through her entire being. The Heart, composed of a massive sphere of deep blood garnet, appeared suspended above a pool of water. Each moment the Heart took a beat, crystal blue water rippled outwards, caving to the rhythm. Surrounding the heart were trees wickedly bent all around it, forming the veins that held the heart in place. On the shoreline, trees outreached across the water, grasping the Heart for sustenance. She drank from the pool with the herd, and when the heart pulsed, the sphere enflamed within, sending another wave of ripples from the epicenter.
The vision offered to Lyla dissipated. Fading to the black crystalline eyes of the alpha beauke. The pulse of a heart beating became her own once more. The flow of blood, the flow of breath, the flow of eneryia, is mine own again. As if answering an unspoken calling, a longing she felt compelled to acknowledge, Lyla kept her gaze on the beauke. It took a moment for Lyla to reacquaint herself with her surroundings, realizing Dustin and Farrah were intently watching from afar. The alpha beauke had begun to graze, Lyla turned and stepped back to join the others. One day.
After a few steps away from the herd, Lyla smiled and nodded to Dustin and Farrah as they hesitantly entered the clearing. Moving silently on his toes, Dustin pressed forward towards the herd. Dustin would be the first to approach, leaving Farrah to silently observe by Lyla’s side. Each step more confident than the last, he stood at the eye of the herd. A formidable beauke, slightly smaller than the alpha, locked its gaze with Dustin.
Lyla whispered softly, “Just as the wyvern looked into you, you must look into the beauke. Earn your place in the herd.” Leaving Farrah at a safe distance, Lyla silently crossed her steps at an arc behind him. Each step an articulate delicacy for a soundless approach while Dustin went to work.
Dustin’s eyes began to let off a deep blue aura that crept into the air like a final breath of fog before the rising sun. The beauke took a step forward, eyes locked with Dustin’s. The trance begins.
It seemed barely a few moments had passed, and the beauke stomped a hoof forward – the only warning. Immediately Lyla strode to the front of the beast. “Shh…” Be calm, no harm shall cross your path from us. The beauke resisted for two short moments, snorting aggressively before falling back into a lull. Gently caving to Lyla’s presence, moreover the ranger’s mark. It bowed its head in submission and continued to graze with the rest of the herd.
After nearly half a minute’s pass of silence for caution, Lyla stepped back towards Dustin without so much a glance over her shoulder; “What did you see?” Dustin kept a more defensive stance where he stood. His gaze lingered on the herd, as if expecting a stampede! It was to be expected of his first attempt to look into a creature. Fortunately, Bloodwood beauke were fairly comfortable around the Devote after many cycles of this ritual. However, he would neither be the first nor last to falter here.
“It saw me…” Dustin took a long pause before continuing. “I saw through the Bloodwood Forest and the beauke stood in my path… It… watched me. Like an intruder.” Despite Lyla at his side, he did not let the beauke out of his sight. Nor did he lower his defensive stance.
Lyla rested a palm on his raised arm. “You cannot expect prowess with no practice.” Hesitantly, Dustin lowered his arm, and Lyla looked to Farrah in turn. “This is why we are here, so we may gain the skills we need for our journey eastward.” Lyla walked closer to Farrah. “This preparation shall lay the groundwork for our soul binds. It was quite a few attempts before I could see into a beast and find the path to soothe it.” And I’ve failed equal times trying to bind one to my will.
After waiting for Lyla’s signal, Farrah gave a confirming nod, walking to the eye of the herd where Dustin stood moments prior. She thirsts for the challenge. Farrah looked around, determining where to place her mark. When her choice was made, it was all but evident of what was to come.
Farrah’s gaze landed on the same beauke Dustin had chosen prior. Her eyes bathed in a brown aura darker than the wood that surrounded her. The beauke looked resistant at first, taking an aggressive step towards Farrah, but she remained steadfast in her approach. Face to face, unmoved by any attempt to sever the tie. Their eyes locked, the beauke grew still, and Farrah was face to face with the creature of the Bloodwood.
For what seemed an eternity, the two remained interlocked. Then Farrah took a deep breath in, while simultaneously the aura from her eyes quickly receded back within her being. She took a silent retreat towards Lyla and Dustin, though I’d hardly call that a retreat.
When she approached, she spoke not a word, but wore an innocent smile on her face shy of consistent eye contact. Dustin, however, stood open-mouthed and dismayed. “Show off.”
Farrah laughed, “You clearly broke her will down for me, consider it a team effort.”
Far more at ease than he was prior, Dustin resumed flipping his dagger. “Damn straight I did. I want another run at her.”
The sun burned a bright orange that left glared streaks in the clearing. Lyla excitedly turned to Farrah with genuine approval, “That was most impressive! Not everyone can see into the creatures, let alone successfully soothe one on their first ranging.”
Farrah’s eyes gleamed as a smile grew on her face. Before she could reply, Dustin took advantage of Lyla’s wording and jumped right in, “Well this ‘ranging’ certainly isn’t over yet.” He glanced over at the grazing herd again with a long pause before pointing one out. “Farrah, I want a rematch, let’s go.”
Dustin strode towards the eye of the pack again, with Farrah happily following right behind him. Her tone remained cool, playfully toying with him as he positioned himself to soothe a beauke, but there is a budding confidence underneath! “Will you want me to break its will for you this time, Dustin?”
The banter between the two initiates fell out of earshot for Lyla’s attention was caught by something else. The alpha of the herd had perked its ears and stridden to the northern edge of the clearing, staring out into the forest. Lyla approached his side with caution. The beauke paid her no mind and he kept his gaze transfixed into the forest. Lyla matched his gaze out past the grove and beyond the tree line. What do you see?
She closed her eyes, the forest falling quiet around her. When she opened them, she saw through the eyes of the beauke once more. She felt the heightened senses of the creature overtake her own, something is enroute at an aggressive pace.
Three black clouds slowly pushed through the thick of the tree lines. Three majestic storms of chaos compressed into finite spheres. Rushing past the anomaly, a crescendo of swift footsteps set the pace, an older man came sprinting past the moving spheres. He jumped the hill, his stride joining with his landing, as the chaos clouds imploded in on themselves in three crackles of thunder. The implosions erupted into three ragged shapes, already sprinting after the man before they even came into full focus.
Lyla opened her own eyes once more, and the beauke beside her had already strode back to the pack. Dustin must had been close to fulfilling a successful soothe attempt, all but one of the beauke focused their attention on the leader. The leader reared and took off in a hastened pace towards the way the Devote had come, the pack following on his heels. Not more than a moment after, the beauke Dustin had almost fully soothed awoke and left with them.
“Aw, come on! Wait!” Dustin sprinted a few steps after them, but gave in to the futility of the request. Farrah however, was more concerned with the look on Lyla’s face.
“We have to leave, now.” Lyla strode at an aggressive pace, suggesting the others to follow suite.
Farrah and Dustin fell in tow and the three took off, with the fleeting sunlight behind them. “What did you see?” Farrah and Dustin exclaimed in their questioning simultaneously.
Deric spoke of these rogues once before. He called them shadow dancers, notorious for their ‘spectral step.’ He did not tell her much about them, other than avoiding confrontation with them by all means, and that is exactly what she intended to do. Two recruits and a newly appointed ranger, doesn’t seem fair odds for three shadow dancers.
Lyla slowed only slightly for the downhill slope that approached them, and with quick cautious steps she led the three through the path. “I don’t know, but we’re not sticking around to find out.” Deric had said they dwelled in the Arkose Desert, well north of the Bloodwood Forest. Whomever they are chasing is not worth the risk of endangering two fresh recruits.
Lyla brought them to a halt at a small plateau within the hills. She closed her eyes and listened for the river. Silence was her only reprieve. The quiet shattered when a body hurling over fallen leaves advanced tumbling into their line of sight.
The man had stumbled, falling down the slope the three had just came, and lay still in front of Dustin. Before the body even came to a complete halt, Farrah had her spear pointed at him and Dustin had his dagger at the man’s throat.
Lyla came between them and they pulled back only slightly. He was old, breathing heavily, and roughed up on all edges. He’s agile for his state. She meant to interrogate him, but by then it was too late.
The first shadow appeared to Lyla’s left, on a small ridge to the anterior of a redwood growing down the edge. The shadowed orb took on physical form, and the features became clearer. Her cowl and cloak were made of a blackened cloth, each lined at the edges with a tint of gold. Under a tightly wound cloak she wore brass clasps with no sigil. In one of her skin-tight steel gauntlets, she held a smooth black rod that she spun and dug into the dirt in front of her. The weapon was not the intimidation. Her face was pale milk from what light shone on it. Her eyes latch the same hue. The other two clouds appeared in succession.
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The second shadow appeared from the path they had just come. Her cowl wrapped around her bodice and entwined the deep purple wrapping to the tail of a coat. She bore strange steel armor underneath, thin and tight-fitted, forged with eneryia?! She wore a mask that covered her face which glowed bright blue in pulses.
The third shadow completed the task of surrounding their apparent target, and us. She was covered cowl to boot in black thin leathers and ragged cloth. She wore no cape but six ghostly black rags flowed in thin streams behind her posterior. Her display was accented by flat dark grey linings and belt buckles in the same fashion. Her right armlet though… She bore a steel skin-gauntlet similar to the others, but this one was different. A bright orange glow came from the dorsum of the palm, and though hard to tell from afar… it slowly spins. Her features all hidden by the dust mask she wore over her face.
Despite the obscurity of the situation, Lyla did not feel compelled to draw her chakras. She eyed each shadow dancer in turn, and stood in front of the exhausted old man, who had still yet to get up from his fall. “Whatever quarrel you have with this man, you disturb peace upon Andescion lands.”
The first shadow dancer tilted her head, keeping her glare locked on Lyla. She’s studying me. The second was hard to get a read on, you know with the mask and all, but the third was transfixed on the old man.
Lyla spoke with more affirmation now. “State your business here, and the Devote of Blade shall hear your entreaty. Whatever this man has done to wrong you, the Devote will offer justice. We have our rangers all over the Bloodwood.”
The third shadow dancer’s gauntlet spiraled rapidly with a blood-orange aura. In an instant it flashed bright before fading into nothingness. She then looked to the middle shadow, and one by one they dissipated into the black clouds once more, vanishing entirely. A precarious bluff.
Lyla let a minute pass, frozen, waiting for signs of any movement or a return of the shadow dancers. The stillness of the forest was more eerie than a source of reprieve.
With the immediate threat gone, attention resumed to the old man, who still was hunched over on his knees, panting. When the chaos of the scene faded, the man pulled back his dark green cowl. The man had white streaks running through his bound hair, and a salt and peppered sharply cut beard. He was heavily breathing, sweat and blood had engulfed his face.
Dustin approached and bent to the man’s eye level, despite that, the man seemed oblivious to Dustin’s presence. He stared intently into the ground in front of him, perhaps unable to move. Dustin’s voice was calm but stern. “What in Oblivion was that about?”
The reply yielded a cough that shook his whole body. He grimaced, and two drops of blood fell from his torso to his steel-forged bracer.
Farrah nudged him with the butt of her spear, moving his dampened cloak, revealing the wound. A small ebony dagger’s hilt wrapped at the base in a thin cord, protruded from under his rib cage. “Who are you, and what have you done to bring about their wrath?”
The man looked up at the three while he attempted to slow his breath. He got to one knee, his right arm grasping desperately at his chest. His voice raspy and jaded, “We are not of this realm, Melacalyan.”
Lyla glanced over the man’s display, the blood pouring quicker the more he moved; he won’t make it back to the guild’s camp. She knelt in front of him. “What is your name, sir?”
He spit up blood and he wiped it off his chin. He looked at Dustin, then to Farrah. Thwarted, he returned his eyes to Lyla. “It matters naught who I am. What matters is what’s to pass over this realm.” Unstable with his own weight, he sunk back to the ground.
Lyla’s face grew sterner. “And what might that be?” She was running thin of patience, and time.
The man made an attempt to incline his head. Like a redwood set to flame, his exterior appeared strong despite the interior battle he was clearly losing. His face lined parallel with aged and hardened leather, and when he spoke, he brought gravity to his voice; “When the sirens sing, and drums set tempo… Bring forth the tools of war.” He coughed again, the movement of it regarded a steel snake whipping through his insides. We will get nothing from this mouth but poison.
Lyla took a deep breath, and raised her hands over the wound. “I cannot ail this, but I can soothe the passing.”
The man’s hand shot towards her with a burst of energy disturbingly agile for his state, and grabbed Lyla’s wrist, leaving her wide-eyed and stunned. “No.” And with that final rebuttal, his grip slipped from her wrist and sunk into lifelessness.
The other two did not speak. “Search him.”
Dustin put his own dagger back in the sheathe at his hip, and bent besides the fallen man. Half-expecting the dead to rise, he hesitantly hovered over the wound before carefully removing the dagger by its hilt.
With his free hand Dustin reached for the cloth he had tucked away on his beltline, never taking his eyes off the blood-soaked dagger.
Lyla studied the weapon while Dustin cleansed it of the man’s blood. The blood soaked the cloth where he slid the blade across, but still it cleanses with too much ease. The dagger was sleek from hilt to point, and blackened with the deepest corners of night itself. The edges gave a distinct geometrical rise on each side of the blade giving each plane a triangular surface.
Lyla held out her hand when he finished. “See what you can find on him.”
Dustin reluctantly handed Lyla the dagger, and Farrah dug her spear into the ground to join Dustin in rummaging through the man’s clothes. Dustin looked back curiously at Lyla while his hands searched through compartments in the man’s tunic. “I don’t suppose you’ll be wanting me to hold on to that dagger for safe keepings.”
Lyla moved the blade between her fingertips, the blade catches no light from the day’s sun. “If we had come upon this throwing dagger by other means, I’d say have it.” What craft is this, Shadow Dancer. “Deric shall have to make light of this.”
Farrah made a disgruntled noise, and stood up from where the dead man lay. “He wears nothing defining save for the blade he bore in his chest.” Lyla and Dustin rose to meet her level. “His own weaponry are nowhere to be found either.”
“What did he have on him then?” Lyla scanned for anything nearby.
Farrah knelt and unfastened the man’s belt, and stood back up bringing a few pouches attached with it. “Two small blocks of wrapped cheese –
Dustin eyed the corpse cautiously, “Nor coin of any kind.”
Lyla stood silent for what seemed a moment.
Dustin and Farrah both gazed at Lyla, but it was Dustin who spoke. “What should we do with him?”
Lyla glanced to each of them in turn, taking in their discomfort for the first time. I should have realized sooner. Death had played a role for all of them in the past, but the sentiment remains the same, no matter how many may fall before you. What will change is the ability to step forward.
“We will give him a proper sending.” It did not matter from where the man came, or to which allegiance he belonged. The Devote of Blade would light a pyre for the fallen to help guide their passage into Oblivion. It was one of the first responsibilities bestowed to her upon breathing life anew with the Devote.
Finding dry bark and kindling took them more time than Lyla would have preferred, but with Dustin and Farrah’s help, they were able to build a small pyre in reasonable timing. After surrounding the area with the largest stone they could find, the three laid the stranger on the makeshift pyre.
Lyla unbundled the man’s cloak and held it in her hands. The cloak was a plain swamp green, no markings on it, no sigils. Just caked in dirt. She rubbed it gently in her hands, before laying it over the lifeless man. Even in death the man looks perturbed.
She stared at the pyre while Dustin set it alight. She blanketed the body tightly, taking only a few steps back to make sure the blaze caught. ‘When the sirens sing, and drums set tempo… Bring forth the tools of war.’ Lyla shivered.
The small plateau was sufficing enough for a small funeral pyre. Lyla, Dustin, and Farrah watched the blaze grow from where the tree line began again. Silence took lead, save for the gentle crackling of the fire.
The skyline itself became a shifting palette, in preparation for the night to come. Warmth from the fire rested upon the trunks of the redwoods that surrounded the plateau, where Dustin and Lyla leaned upon, absently watching the pyre. “We should head back to camp.”
Dustin nodded, without turning to Lyla. The pyre fully engulfed in flame.
The three turned together, almost in unison. Farrah lay a hand on Dustin’s shoulder while they walked together. “None should be left to pass into Oblivion alone.”
Lyla kept silent when they began the trek back. The redwoods guard your passing now.
Twilight encompassed the rising moons, and the pyre blazed behind them while the three journeyed the return to the Devote encampment.
The journey was spent mostly in silence, save for the soft caving of the leaves to their boots. For the sake of time, Lyla led their return to the camp, though focus will not come at ease.
It took Lyla a short while to find the river again. Bring forth the tools of war? On Andescion lands? In her two cycles with the Devote she had not encountered anything of the like. Why would they leave… Upon sight of the river, she was able to track their way to camp with little effort.
Before long, the encampment came as twilight gave way to nightfall.
The campsite came into view simultaneously with the light of the fires. The thick trunks of the redwoods hid their presence well. Thin trails of smoke rose in a snake-like fashion from each of the fires strategically placed amongst the Devote.
Each tent bore the Devote sigil in filemot brown, three locked blades intertwined by vines. There were more filemot accents on the larger tents, but all were painted upon a smoky beige canvas.
Two guards stood watch at the camp line border, with another off amongst the outskirt trees on a close patrol. Lyla, Dustin, and Farrah approached closer, syncing up with the dirt path that wove through in direct line with the guards. Once on the path Lyla felt her skin prickle, and a cold breeze enveloped her for a moment’s pass. She looked up viscerally. The sky was blanketed in night’s cloak, with none but the stars to be seen, but he is there. By the time she exhaled it was gone.
Lyla picked up her stride slightly, leading Dustin and Farrah through the maze of tents that surrounded each fire. The day was anything but ephemeral. They were the last ranging back, and he already knows.
Dustin and Farrah however, were far more uplifted to be back. They came upon Luex Aienborne’s circle, when Tehyra Leisen called out to Farrah, “Well, it’s about time!” She sat edged towards the fire, with a crispy leg of lamb at her fingertips. Tehyra was one of two new recruits under Luex’s guidance. She was pale, lightly freckled, lean, with tightly bound blond hair that fell just past her shoulder. They’ve just begun dinner.
Farrah bent to meet Tehyra’s embrace, and upon standing back she took in the fresh scent of cooked meat that the three had failed to detect prior to entering the camp, an attribute of the dispelling ward no doubt.
Dustin gave her a quick pat on the shoulder in passing while she bit into her lamb leg once more. “Auedon, how did your day fare?”
Auedon Borsilus bore a lightly browned cloak and leathers, with a slightly darker beard to compliment the ensemble. He sat next to Tehyra, meticulously attempting to be clean with his food, while watching Tehyra devour hers with greased fingers. He took his gaze off Tehyra and met Dustin’s. “Was successful I’d say. We tracked the trail of a family of sun bears and found three cubs foraging under one of the younger redwoods.”
Auedon took a dignified bite. “Their parents lounged in the tree above, and we were able to creep close enough to get some soothing practice in.”
He brought his eyes back to Tehyra. “Tehyra tackled one at one point, but we managed all the same with Luex soothing the elders.”
Tehyra searched around her mid chewing, “I still got him.” And resumed eating.
The fireside turned to laughter, with Tehyra giggling to herself while she kept her attention on her lamb leg. Dustin chimed in, “You should have seen the trouble we had.”
Lyla shot Dustin a sharp glance, and in a lucky moment, he caught her stare. He smiled and continued. “Well, I should say the trouble Farrah had.”
Farrah held her mouth agape while she picked up and tossed a small rock at his chest, and the fireside laughter roared louder.
The conversation slowly fell from Lyla’s attention. She focused more on Luex’s approach.
The dark-haired Ranging Leader wore a tight-fitted amaretto brown coat, and lightly browned thick denims. His salt and peppered hair fell well past his shoulders, though neatly oiled and well kept. His long beard held the same level of upkeep.
Luex kept his gaze on the fire while he slowly sauntered beside her. “They give you any trouble?”
Lyla returned Luex with a quizzical look.
He nodded to Dustin and Farrah, the two intermingling with the other Devote recruits at the fire.
Lyla shook her head with a comforted smile. “Not at all.” She turned from Luex to the fire. Watching the flames move about the logs, like Shadow Dancers. “Dustin had some struggles, but he will soothe within another ranging or two.”
Luex laughed humbly. “Don’t we all. How did the other one fare?”
“She did exceptionally well for her first ranging.” Lyla took a deep breath. “She soothed on her first attempt.”
Luex smiled and held his palm idly in the air in front of him. “Everyone excels at their own pace. Your time with the wyvern will come.”
A low thrum softly came to crescendo, and three Cateran Flyers the size of Luex’s palm hovered about him. One of them landed in his open hand, its wingspan surpassing the size of his hand on each side. The mane was a soft jasmine, with blackened markings all the way to the point of the tail.
Lyla watched with fascination. The arthropod made quick glances with those black large eyes and curiously crawled around his forearm. To share the bond…
Luex held still as the Flyer returned to the air above him and another took landing in its place. “Peaceful creatures by nature, until provoked. Each one bound to soul, in independence, freeing them of their hive mentality.”
Lyla met Luex’s eyes from watching the Flyer. “Individualistic bonds for each? Do they not move with synergy?”
Luex let the second Flyer return above him, and he watched the three slowly rise together. “Soul Binds may move in harmony with oneself and their bound creature, similarly with multiple binds. However, it is important to bind each one individually, otherwise they are never truly bound equally. To free these Cateran Flyers of their swarm mentality puts myself and them on an equal scale. The wisdom Arias taught our ancestors many cycles ago.”
Within moments the three flyers rose out of sight amongst the canopies, and Luex returned his gaze to Lyla. “For them to move in synergy is with practice and teamwork, versus mindless ordering. Which can only lead to chaos.”
Lyla continued to watch the spot where the flyers disappeared. Individualistic bonds for each. She then called to Dustin and Farrah, “Come, we must report your progress to Deric.”
Luex nodded and returned to his campfire.
The three made their way deeper into the encampment. In four quick spurts of bursting air, four pale-fringed flying foxes swept in low, then glided upwards in a helix back into the canopies.
Bound creatures roamed freely amongst them, many lost in sight to the natural shelter of the redwood sentinels, but their presence could always be felt, amplified within the warding.
A Bloodwood Lynx calmly nudged Lyla’s leg, bringing her attention to its path beside her. The feline had a terracotta base with blackened patches scattered throughout. On all fours it brushed past her leg almost a meter high.
She paused to watch the feline stroll over, and sit beside a man in a canvas tinged cloak, with the Devote’s forest green to accentuate the armored points. His light face clean, and his cheek-line smooth, Ciarán Voltaire was a handsome display.
He instinctually massaged the feline’s head in welcome, while the Lynx stared at Lyla. It must be done before we reach the wyvern.
Lyla frowned on the approach of Ciarán Voltaire’s circle. The group of four, sat around the fire with stuffed mouths, their dinner well-tended to already. Ciarán led another one of the day’s rangings, with one of the newest recruits; Haydrin Skyland.
Haydrin himself had already finished his meal. He was bound in an abundance of various off-colored leathers, and a light cowl over his head. He stared curiously when Lyla and her group approached.
The other two gathered at Ciarán’s circle were initiates from the previous cycle. Dionne Cextalle and Elliomere Ventille, well Elli. Dionne stood a little taller than Elli. Her skin had a warm glow to it, and her hair painted in ancient copper, gently fell just past her shoulder, loosely braided on one side. On each collar bone bore a lightly colored tattoo of wings climbing up to the shoulders. She wore a fresh green ranger’s dress split at the legs, with tanned leather straps and fastenings for armor points.
Elli’s skin was pale ivory with pastel silver in her eyes and long thick blond hair she wore wild and loose well past her breast line. She was very lean, wearing a whitened blouse with leather vest, greaves, and boots to match.
It was Lyla’s turn to embrace her fellow initiates, hugging Elli and Dionne in turn. “How did your day fare with Haydrin?”
Haydrin quietly watched, but Elli smiled warmly. “He did very well.” Elli looked under her arms trailing a small Red Fennec Fox climbing about her in a spiral to her shoulders.
The small fox had a soft white fur with red markings on its long ears, base, and tail that split off in three deep red ends. “I even managed to bind this little guy after Haydrin soothed one of the others.”
Lyla slowly brushed her knuckles against the fox’s face, answered with him nudging up against her outward hand. “Haydrin’s lucky, he gets three veterans to guide him.”
Elli watched the little creature jump about between her and Lyla, then nodded off to where Ciarán stood with a playful smirk on her face. “I’m sure Farrah and Dustin had way more fun with you.”
Ciarán scoffed the notion, but Dionne cut him off before he could jump in. “Most certainly we would have had a far more joyous time with Lyla.”
She laughed and put a hand on his arm while he focused on his Lynx instead of the banter. “If only for old time’s sake, it seems just yesterday we set out on our own rangings together.”
Elli nodded in approval. “Yes, once our Haydrin, and your Farrah and Dustin, come to their full fruition with the mark, we shall venture together once more.”
Both Elli and Dionne laughed looking back at Ciarán together. “You can come too Ciarán.”
Ciarán shook his head unable to hold back his smile, “You will be the death of me, both of you.”
Before Lyla allowed herself to get too comfortable, “We must go see Deric before I starve Farrah and Dustin to the same fate.”
Dustin came to life immediately at the mention of food, “Yes. Our fire shall be more barren than my stomach by this hour.”
Ciarán cocked a half smile towards Lyla. “You may find the emptiness ‘heartier’ than starting your meals so late.”
Lyla let confusion sweep her face bluntly.
Ciarán held his gaze, blankly staring through Lyla, what drives you towards such allegations… He ran a finger through his hair, nudging the head of the lynx beside him with the other hand.
With quick farewells, Lyla pressed on deeper through the encampment to – with a quick glance Lyla caught sight of their own circle not too far off behind Ciarán’s. A healthy flame flickered and cackled with fresh firewood to feed.
Closer review revealed three good sized logs encircled the fire, each with a raw cut of lamb and a small bowl of greens placed in the middle.
Confusion overtook Lyla, while she searched for the culprit. I pray Deric had no part in this. Her eyes caught back at Ciarán’s fire and though he himself sat next to Haydrin now facing the fire, he glanced over and caught her eye. A brief moment of reprieve.
She grabbed Dustin before he could sit. “Not yet, come.”
Deric Ullystrom stood alone, arranging the assemblage of his armor pieces on a freshly clothed table.
Even without his armor donned, he stood a sentinel on his own, his rigid form cutting through his base shirt. His hair was sweat soaked, along with the backline of the trident blue half sleeved shirt.
He turned at their approach. His right eye, an argent white, was complimentary to the depth of the left, an ocean blue one could drown in.
The three humbly waited in silence. Lyla tranced in the depth of his stare, both white and blue she could almost watch the wyvern’s movements above the tree line.
“I believe we have had some success today, did we not?”
Neither Farrah nor Dustin changed facial expressions. Lyla spoke, “Both made great strides towards their soothing. Farrah connected with a beauke on her first attempt.”
Deric nodded absently. “You’ve made a great leap in your journey today.” He looked from Farrah to Dustin, who met his gaze in turn. “Both of you.”
“It is through Arias’ teachings that we will restore this great city to her former glory. And it will be the Devote that earn her blessings once more.” Deric rubbed the top of his left wrist, “We are the fortunate ones born with her teachings.”
Deric moved closer to both Farrah and Dustin. He spoke calmly, but surely, with conviction. “Arias chose you for a specific purpose. Rebirth in the Andescion flame is the first step towards that journey. Embrace your talents. Embrace her eneryia.”
Deric nodded to himself with approval. “Dustin, Farrah. Eat, rest up. Lyla, I believe you have some more of your day’s venture to tell?”
Dustin moved first with Farrah in tow. Both silently made their way to their campfire. Farrah looked over her shoulder before leaving, and within moments Lyla was alone with Deric Ullystrom.
Before Lyla had a chance to formulate the day’s events, Deric rested both palms firmly on both her shoulders and did not blink. “Arias has chosen you for the wyvern, never forget it. The path may wind and wander, where others may move more direct, but the end is true to your fruition. I have seen it.”
“Arias guide me, I shall not stray.”
“I know you will not.” Deric resumed his work with his armor pieces. “It seems you’ve had more than beauke cross your path today. You sent passage to Oblivion?” He saw the pyre? I saw no sign of the wyvern…
Lyla kept her gaze locked while Deric studied her in turn. Speaking truly, “The Shadow Dancers chased a man into the Bloodwood… Upon coming across the three of us, they retreated, almost immediately.”
Deric paced thoughtfully, Lyla continued. “I first sensed them while Farrah and Dustin were training. We made a run for the river, the man fell upon us, with the Shadow Dancers on his tail.”
“And what did the Shadow Dancers want with this man?”
Lyla shook her head. “He died shortly after they vanished.” Lyla froze for a moment. “He would not let me touch him.”
With Deric’s interest peaked, Lyla continued. “He… spoke of war.”
“War, you say?” Deric paced slower, however his tone maintained the same level of nonchalance. “What were his precise words?”
“When the sirens sing, and the drums set tempo… Bring forth the tools of war.”
Deric nodded. “That hymn is from an old line, held dear, by the Terros Enclave.”
Lyla could no longer hide her puzzlement. “Sir?”
Deric continued, lost in thought. “If the Terros Enclave are here, it can only mean one thing…” Deric resumed his gaze on Lyla. “Did he have anything of significance on his person?”
Lyla produced the dagger from one of her own clasps. “Nothing, save for the dagger one of the Shadow Dancer’s used to kill him.”
Deric slowly took the blade from her hand, running his fingertips along the edges. “Your path to the wyvern may come sooner than you anticipate.”
When he reached the tip, he casually whipped the blade into a nearby tree. With eyes never leaving the blade, “This blade indeed belonged to a Shadow Dancer. A Night Witch.”