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Sanctuary, not only is it the name of the town, but it is also the home of people who lock themselves away from the many dangers of the world. The inhabitants may call Sanctuary a town, but this is not accurate due to the population sitting just over a three hundred thousand that resides within Sanctuary. This is in fact a large city by all accounts and is surrounded by many farmlands, and in the center lies a monolith of great importance. Sitting in the middle of the main square of the ‘town’, with staircases on every side resides this monolith. Standing above all, not in height but in stature, a mountain in its own right, the monolith sits on its pedestal of marble. The black of the obsidian contrasts the white of the surrounding stairs and blocks, but in the center of the monolith it shines gold. Well, not shine more burns. A raging fire keeps the beautifully carved cylinder-shaped obsidian warm to the touch. Unbreakable, impossible to dirty, and forever alight it comes to no surprise that the masses treat this object with reverence.
Being the focal point of all, the central monolith is thought to be the protector of everyone within Sanctuary. Forcing the creatures that twist themselves for greater speed or strength to stay outside the boundary that has been set up by the ancestors of the ‘town’. Outside the barrier only madness thrives. Outside one can trade their sanity for power, and that goes for all beings with a heartbeat. Giving into baser impulses one can be disfigured and twisted beyond repair, but the worst of it, one’s mind is fractured. Unable to control themselves or even properly think, the Twisted are the apex predators.
South, south of Sanctuary, beyond the boundary in the middle of the night there lies a girl. Old enough to call herself a woman, but yet, she cannot. Quivering, cold, scared she is lying prone under some bushes whimpering. Berating herself for twisting her ankle she rubs at it. So far, she has traveled a few kilometers outside the boundary already, and due to avoiding the Watch, she came during the night. She counts this as one of many of her mistakes on this night. Another, she lost her pack a while back when she was chased by a swarm of creatures the size of rabbits. They chased her for a distance before she had thrown her pack away, smelling the salted meat within the pack the dark shapes moved quickly after the discarded package and ravaged what was inside. Not only had she lost all her provisions within the first hours of her travels outside Sanctuary, but she also twisted her ankle because she startled herself due to flinching at every dark silhouette in sight.
No, she made many mistakes this night, and yet she was not dissuaded from continuing further. She had one goal in mind, to get her brother back. He had left Sanctuary; he went beyond the boundary due to grief. He thought he was alone, but she was here to remind him he was not. Tears streamed down the young woman’s face, not due to the pain but remorse. If she had known her older brother would commit what would amount to be suicide, she would have tried harder to make him realize he was not alone. He had basically raised her when her parents had passed away, even now he was her guardian until she had her first naming day.
If it wasn’t for that stupid fire. He would still be here; they would still be alive. Her brother lost his wife, his child to the fire. Many were heartbroken when news spread, Tarvan was, is what amounts to being a hero of Sanctuary. He has had two Naming Days already, and a third in a few weeks. The council were unanimous in their decision that his contributions to Sanctuary warranted the recognition of a bearer of three Name Days. Many within the society of Sanctuary only receive one Name Day, when they graduate from their training for their newly found profession. Only those who has done great deeds in mass may be granted a second or third, most do not however. Tarvan got Tar when he joined the Watch, and after many great deeds many of which could not be disclosed, he received Van. Now known as Tarvan, he was a senior amongst his peers. After the third, he would have a voice on the council.
Tarvan, who was only eight years older than this crying girl, made her feel inadequate. He, a prodigy at everything he does, her, his sister felt small in comparison. No matter what she did, she was compared to Tarvan. She was to be just like him, composed, compassionate, strong, a leader. Everything she did, no matter how poorly or great, it felt the same to her. How can she live up to her brother’s stature? Impossible, and everyone knew it.
After some time resting her ankle, the nameless girl crawls out from her hiding place. Straightening she looks around her, trees of many shapes are around her. Thick roots grab at everything, making the terrain hard to traverse quickly without further injuring her. The trees themselves looks as though they are reaching for her, the branches snapping in anticipation. There are not many shadows this night, because there is little light. Everything is dark, but it is noisy. It is loud in these woods, howls in the night, buzzing, skittering, snapping, rustling, even crashes can be heard all around. It seems the further she gets from Sanctuary, the louder it becomes. It is terrifying, the nameless girl has had a cold sweat since she left the boundary. This girl left the boundary thinking Tarvan would not be too far, he could not have gone too far at least. She knew he went south, just that south meant many kilometers to search through in all.
I’m so stupid. I could have gone in the hours before sunrise. Then I could use the daylight to search for him. The nameless girl again berated herself of her mistakes. Searching during the night is proving itself, fruitless. Not only that, she was also exhausted. She traveled the last couple days to reach the boundary and continued on in the night on the second. Now she has no supplies, no idea where she was, unable to see with any kind of accuracy, and finally every noise around her seems as though they were directed towards her. Shivering, with little to no idea where to go from here, the girl decided on a direction. The reasoning on her direction was rather simple, there seemed to be less noise from this direction, and since there was less noise closer to the boundary. It was the right direction to go. I'm not calling it quits, I just need to reestablish my bearing. Once I get to the boundary, I can start combing the surrounding area more tactfully than before. Trying to reassure herself she was not abandoning her duty to her brother, she marched towards the direction she believed to be the boundary.
Tripping repeatedly on the roots, the girl had a perpetual scowl on her face. To her credit however, she made as little noise as possible, even being untrained as she was. After traveling for some time, the noise indeed was getting dampened. Leaving the howls of the night behind her, she knew she was going the right way now. Picking up the pace she moved faster looking for the tell-tale marks of the boundary. With the central monolith being the largest and most grand, there were smaller ones that were a third of the size, even though they were still larger than the largest man, positioned at the edges of the boundary. They had meticulous placements that had a deeper meaning than even the townspeople would ever know. Faster, almost there. She went even faster, but still she had not found the boundary. Moving quickly the nameless girl grabbed the trees to balance on especially patchy areas.
Stepping over one particularly large root, she missed her step and face planted into the ground. A squishy sound was made when her hands went into a particularly slimy soft spot. As she rapidly pushed herself off, she caught the scent of something foul. While on her knees she tried to look at what she was on, but it too, too dismantled. There were no distinguishing features, only that it’s insides were visible, and anything resembling an outer layer no longer existed. Looking down at what used to be, well, alive? The young woman let out a sharp panicked shriek. Instantly she covered her mouth, then gagged when she smeared the bile, or rotting tissue bits on her mouth and nose. As she retched, she heard it, a clicking noise. It started off quiet, then after every click it got louder. The louder it got, even the howls out in the distant got quiet. Another click, the bugs stopped their noises, another click then the trees stopped making their creaking noises. Another click, this time it was deafening, and the wind stopped. Then silence, well everything was silence but the heartbeat of a particular nameless person.
Only the sound of her heartbeat she could hear, not daring to move she stayed as still as possible. Feeling the tension of the woods, she had no longer noticed the smell that clung to her now. Another mistake that she would not be able to recognize, she was now marked, and easy to hunt now. CLICK! Followed by trees snapping, bending and dirt flung into the air, and finally a screech that vibrated one’s bones. Without looking the girl got up and ran, and ran hard. As fast as possible she ran and tried to think of any way to get out of this situation. Climb a tree? No, I can't do it fast enough. Find a bush? No, it probably can see me now. Boundary, that is the only option. Am I going the right way? While debating her options, the unseen creature got closer.
Rounding a tree, the girl with no name tripped yet again. This time however, she hit her head on the ground, hard. She did not rise; she did not stir. She stayed still, unable to move, her vision fading. Her only regret, not being there for her brother. Little does she know; this is the start of her journey. Reaching out, she is covered, protected. She is safeguarded until a voice calls out that she would have recognize if she was not unconscious.
“We got you, you’re safe now.”
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Three years since that day, three years since her brother has left Sanctuary. Tia just crossed the boundary back into Sanctuary, passing through she got the chill that would make her antsy until she is able to leave once again. Now she spends more time outside the boundary than she does inside, only stopping to report both her actions and those of the outside world. Yes, it came to a surprise to her when she found out that many of the teachings she had as a child about the world, were in fact lies. Lies that would keep the populace in the boundary, from leaving. Tia voiced her concerns many times about keeping the citizens ignorant on what goes on outside the boundary. Yes, the madness can be dangerous, but that is where they belong. Ever since she first went outside the boundary, it felt foreign whenever she was inside the boundary.
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She was lucky, she was rescued by Cal that night. He was and still is one of the Watch, and a good friend of her brother. Her brother, she often thought about him, about how she misunderstood his intentions when leaving the boundary. He had indeed not left to commit suicide like so many had in the past, but to seek revenge. This revelation had lit a fire in her that blazed hotter than any other. These murderers, they had killed both her sister-in-law and her newly born nephew. This in turn drove her brother in a white-hot rage and left to pursue them. Little did anyone know; he would be gone for years. Years a highly trained Wayward has gone rogue had crippling effects for Sanctuary.
The Waywards are few, only 17 are still alive including both Tarvan, and his younger sister, Tia. After what amounted for days of being treated after her escapade, Tia had agreed to train under the same mentor that Tarvan had. While Tarvan trained at the age of 14, Tia had started at the age of 19. Despite their age differences, Tia still felt as though she was in his shadow during her training. She would repeatedly ask how her brother had done on a particular drill, or a test, or their first hunt. Not once had she did as well, as he. Her brother in fact was thought to be a great gem that the town could not do without, and yet they must. For he would not return until he completed his vow, and none would be able to dissuade him until he does so.
The profession of a Wayward is not known to the masses, for Waywards can be said to have more power than the council themselves at times. Their responsibilities include skills that can take on the vast majority of Twisted alone, protection of Sanctuary, scouting, ambassador duties, and what Tia disgusts the most, assassinations. She understood the need to covertly kill certain enemies in secret, but it just felt wrong to her. Luckily, she has not had the need to murder anyone in this manner. Not all tribes of people in the world wishes to keep peaceful ties with Sanctuary, and if the time comes, Tia believes she would complete her duty if needed.
Every Wayward has a list of tribes or villages they must establish continuous communications with. Some are receptive, and even have trade agreements with Sanctuary, others are openly hostile and requires a great deal of finesse to deal with. Having been the newly trained Wayward, Tia was left with safer and more amenable groups of people. Over time her duties would increase as they had for all other Waywards. Only after many years of dedication, would she be allowed to ‘retire’. She huffed at the thought of the few Waywards who decided to take the retirement. Very few lived long enough to gain the right to do so, even fewer would. For true Waywards understood, their home is not within the boundary, but outside it.
Annoyed, Tia made her way towards the town that should be considered a city. For she had to report her newest findings, raiders. While it took her multiple days once upon a time, now only take her mere hours. She would run most of the day housing only limited changes to her body that would not be noticed by the public. Muscles was one of the first things she learned to transmute in training. Her mentor, Jorgonzilrye, instilled the understanding that for Tia, she needed to master the ability to change her body as little as possible. Taking his advice, she would make changes that would have the greatest amount of impact possible. This one with her muscles, where they are now harder to tear, but even more flexible than they otherwise should be. She could travel further and faster with as little energy consumption needed.
Passing by holdings that typically only held fieldworkers and individuals of the Watch, Tia felt the air lacking. It does not hold the same kind of jolt as it does outside. I feel, drained. Indeed, it is true, for within the boundary, magic does not exist. It is a bubble that protects the madness of the outside world, but it also keeps back the magic as well. Both magic and madness, are one. The magic can be controlled, but it cannot be mastered. Using this power taints, the body, and every use afterward adds to that taint, twisting not the body like so many believed, but the mind. Shaking her head Tia continued, now coming into sight the town came into view. After the attack her town had underwent a year back, they finally started building the walls, the sections that are done are nearly fifty feet in height. Mostly made out of wood, but stone is being placed to reinforce them. For the end result of the wall, it should take years.
Falling into a brisk walk Tia enters the unguarded open gates, for they need not guard them during the day. The citizens believe that there is no human outside the boundary, and on top of that, very few creatures decide to enter the boundary for fear of losing their ability to change their shape. There are of course outliers, the Twisted, they don’t think but only act on fury or anger. Usually, the Watch catches and kills these beings, but a year ago, there were many. Shuddering Tia avoided any contact with people she may or may not know, she needed to inform Jorgonzilrye that the raiders were actually a real threat. Raiders or bandits have always been an issue outside the boundary for some time, but they seem to be more organized as of late. Tia wishes to travel further South beyond her designated zone, and in truth she has the authority to do so but it was important to seek guidance first. For she only completed her training less than a year ago.
The town that should be called a city was active, thousands were flooding the many streets and alleys during this time. Shouting, hammering of metal on metal, or on wood, breaking of stone, bartering can be heard. Thankfully Tia had undone her transmutation on her ears before entering the bubble. If not, it would be deafening to her. Her destination was in the middle of town, this is where she would find her mentor, for he had refused to retire, but the council refuses to let him leave the barrier anymore. Not because he was old and outside his prime, no, because he was too important to let loose. He now oversees all the Waywards and is frequently attending council meetings. For he has not three Name Days as the council typically does, but four Name Days.
The longer the name, the more prestige one has. He is currently the one with the longest name to be alive in Sanctuary. Names were special within Sanctuary; most would not receive one until after their training period was over and the mentor of the person chooses the name. Having a mentor was similar to having another mother or father, they would be your mentor for the rest of your life. So, choosing one was important but being accepted was the issue. Many would refuse to mentor due to the possibility of dishonoring themselves. Tia, having her brother, her mother and her mentor receiving more than one Name Day, was regarded as a person of importance. Even with the death of her mother, and the disappearance of her brother, she still would be recognized as someone who would follow in their footsteps for the betterment of Sanctuary.
Arriving at the offices that houses the members of the council and other official members of note, Tia walked inside. The noises outside the building dampened, as she strode down a hallway ignoring the stares she was getting. She knew she must look dirty, disheveled and her clothing was inadequate for proper appearance. Not one person spoke up however, just made a thin line with their lips in disapproval and went about their day. Glancing at a mirror in the hallway Tia took in her appearance for the first time in days. Her brown hair was matted, grimy, and even had scorch marks. Her clothes had spots of blood as well as holes and tears all over. Soot, dirt, and a substance of orange coated her face and arms. Ahh, maybe I should have cleaned up a little before coming here. Well, too late now. She continued on.
Arriving at a plain door that had a symbol of some kind etched into the door, it was the symbol of the Waywards. A diamond surrounded by petals with vines that housed thorns encompassing all. Most would knock and wait patiently, but Tia does not do so. After all, they were practically family, and she was in a hurry. Stepping into the office she found her mentor staring out the window. He did not move, nor acknowledge there was another person in the room with him now. He just looked out, south. Must be thinking about Tarvan, guess it is one of those days for all of us. Making a coughing noise to grab his attention, Tia took a seat at the desk. The room was sparse, lacking any kind of artwork people of his station would allow themselves. He had an old desk, a wardrobe three chairs, and a platter on a small table that shown he had not taken his meal yet.
Another minute would pass before her old mentor turned around. He looked haggard, more than usual. Dark rings circled his eyes, his balding was even more clear, the little hair he had had all turned completely white. His facial hair was patchy, and he looked thinner than usual. He had a disease that was incurable, masses would grow all over the body internally and would do so at a fast rate. If it was not for his expertise in Transmutation, he would already be gone from this world. Nearly eighty years old, and yet he was still so strong, even if he looked so weak in his current state. “Tia, you look well.” Tia chuckled at that, she knew how she looked, but she also knew that he had not meant her current appearance. “What brings you here already? I thought you were going to take another month before returning?”
Tia wanted to spill everything out as quickly as possible, and both people knew it. What was stopping her, however, was Jorgonzilrye, he instilled the practice of patience and deliberate actions. Taking one’s time was important in all things, especially when it comes to relaying information. Taking a slow breath Tia began to speak, “Yes I was, but there has been some pressing concerns that I wish to investigate, but I wanted your guidance before I do so.” Tia preferred to speak as little as possible, if at all. She had issues in the past of her confidence in herself and would always feel inferior to anyone around her. That was one of the first things Jorgonzilrye tried to break her from, however it was still a working progress and even if she felt uncomfortable now about any sort of attention, it was a lot better than even a year ago. Jorgonzilrye studied Tia and nodded, he believed his pupil was thriving better than those stubborn old mules would have ever expected.
He had to leave the council three years back when he trained Tia. They argued and tried to force him to remain and oversee the Waywards but he had refused. The council members all thought Tia would not be worth the development, but he had disagreed. So, seeing her now, he was pleased with himself. He smiled at himself; he chose another good pupil. Then his smile wavered, Tarvan. He did not understand what he was doing, he had heard details but could not believe it. An impossibility to be frank but disturbing to hear. He had not told Tia anything, mainly out of the just inaccuracy of it all, but a small part out of fear. Fear of what she would both do, and also, how it could potentially break her. “Where is Treyton?” Looking around, he looked for the creature that would take on a slithery appearance usually.
“He is, still outside the boundary. I sent him further south to grasp the terrain I wish to travel. He should be back within the next two days I believe”. Tia remembered how she convinced that no good asger. The trickster he was, she shivered at agreeing to aid him in a prank. Asgers lived forever, or so it seemed. They would travel with those they find to be interesting; this can be a great boon for those who work with one, but it also could be just as dangerous. Angering one can lead to certain death, it may not be immediate but an asger is patient and will always choose a time that is most devastating to exact his or her revenge. Surprisingly enough, most Waywards has an asger companion either through mutual choice or forced acceptance. Getting rid of an asger is nigh impossible, it is better to accept that they are with you and plan accordingly.
“I see, I take it is beyond your zone?” Jorgonzilrye knew it was, it was a rhetorical question. “What disturbs you so that you must travel further? From the late Kerins, there is nothing beyond the mountain.” Kerins’ death had just happened last month, and the information he gave was accurate, a year ago at least. He was the one who had taken on the responsibility for the zone before Tia did. When he went eastward, he got caught by a pack of intelligent Twisted. It was sad, and very few people knew of the circumstances.
“I do not mean to question Kerins’ assessment that the surrounding area of the mountain lacks any inhabitants, but I believe he cut his travels short.” Tia’s face reddened, she knew Kerins was wrong, and what she was doing is not wrong, but it felt as though it were. Even more so that he is now dead, he would not be able to defend his report. It was a tough situation to be in, delivering news that a Wayward has made a grave error let alone dishonoring a Wayward that has given his life, as she is now. Jorgonzilrye nodded for Tia to continue. “I have received information from travelers from beyond the mountains, well not travelers, refugees.”
Her mentor closed his eyes in understanding. This was a touchy situation, the council alone would be hard enough to keep quiet about such events, the Waywards would begin to look on Tia with reproach, and the surrounding tribes and villages of the Southern Mountains would be hard to handle. Depending on the information of the refugees, they could become more hostile to all outsiders, or even worse, send fighters to establish a footing beyond the mountains. Every attempt thus far has led to the death to all who settled there, but now with the information that is possible, it would most likely mean a grab for more land and strengthening one’s tribe. Many issues, all deriving from the ‘safest’ or ‘easiest’ assignment.
“Tell me Tia, tell me everything that transpired.” Taking a seat, he knew this would be a long day, and an even longer year.