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Iekka's bright blue eyes fade back to the emerald green that they natuarly are as she falls to the ground. Her breaths are heavy and her body weak, she crawls over to the waters edge and looks down upon her reflection in the rippling currents. She can't see her face, her deep green hood shadowing it, only her bright green eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light. She slowly pulled herself to her knees and pulled back her hood around her shoulders, her dark red hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders and over her chest. Once again she looks into the water to now see her face, a tribal wolf symbol covered half of it, painted in a deep black ink. Iekka held back the tears as her shakey hands ran themselves over the markings.

"Why?" She whispered. "Why must you do this to me..." She went silent for a moment before her hands colided with the water in a burst of rage as she screamed out. "I HATE YOU!"

The trees around her seem to shift and laugh in a gentle breeze as the tears create little paths in the markings. Her soaking wet hands came back and ran across her face, smudgeing the tribal wolf. She looked sadly into the flowing waters, tears falling from her eyes and breaking like glass onto the leaves that litter the ground around her knees.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry Callith..." She whispers as she slowly rises, useing her staff to help her to unsteady feet. She stands there for a few moments, looking at the ring upon her finger before she rises it to her lips and kisses it softly.

Iekka wanders down the same streets where only the day before she led her broken and bloody body along after she had been brutaly beaten. She holds her staff loosly in her hand as saddened eyes watch as the pavement slides by beneath her feet, the occational prick of pain from the brusies that covered her face and arms. Her cloak hangs limply behind her, no longer seeming to flow with the grace that it once did, and her feet are heavy.

The Watcher had already done it's part, speaking to those who it thought could keep it's host safe and now it was her turn. And Iekka knew who she needed to find.

Weakly she walked past bushes and trees untill her feet left the pavement and headed into the soft blades of grass. She walked up to the edge of the river where she sat herself at it's bank, resting her staff by her side and dipping her hands into the water to splash gently against her worn face. The rivers water was crisp and cool, Iekka sighed as she then sat there, letting the waters drip from her face, her eyes watching her reflection shift in the rushing current.

"Callith... where are you?" She whispered to herself. At a quiet sound Iekka qickely turns to look behind her, half expecting to see Misjbar standing there, then upon only seeing a bird quickely flutter from a patch of high grass, she looks back to the water with tear in her eyes.

"You will pay for what you have done..." She picks up a small stone and throws it into the current with a splash, causing a few fish to quickely speed under the shelter of some out crops of rock. "This has gone too far..."

Sian winces, focusing his eyesight on the massive blade, and staring through a rain of sparks. The virulant noise of the gemcutting-device, being abused to sharpen a halberd's head, pierces through the vicinity around the town's workshop. The youth's pale blue eyes seem to reverbrate and sparkle in the glittering light of the many sparks that continue to shower down from the spinning wheel.

Sparks, he thinks. We're back to square one. Sparks... sparks, like the clashing of blades.

He steps back from the spinning wheel and lifts the halberd's head back to his eyes, inspecting it carefully after blowing the residue of metal grain off it.

Sparkling... like the glitter of stolen gold coins.

He moves back to the cutter, and pedals the wheel back up to the proper speed, then lowering the flipside of the head of the halberd back into it, and creating a new outburst of sparks.

Sparkling... like a starry night's reflection in a pool of blood.

His eyebrows arch in a furious emotion and he grits his teeth, ignoring the excruciating pain that emanated from the two newly broken ribs - souvenirs of the recent confrontation with Rith Orion's mighty hammer, only days ago. Staring through the infinity of sparks raining down from the halberd's head.

It's all clear to me now...

Sian raises the weapon away from the wheel and steps back, again eyeing its blade closely, and blowing off some more metal dust. He steps into the center of the workshop's spacious room, and swings the halberd slowly, almost insecurely - marveling at the unnerving sound of it cutting through the very air.

Clear as daylight, that the only thing I ever ran from, was myself.

His sickeningly pale blue eyes focus on the door and only exit of the building, and the sound of heavy metal boots orchestrates his footsteps proceeding to leave the workshop. Almost blindly, he locks the gauntlets shut and steps up into the early noon sun, staring up at the sky and narrowing his eyes with an unsure feeling.

I ran so far to get so far away from myself...

The gnarly black metal links of the orcish armor he wears accompanied the sounds of the metal bootsteps striking the town's road, and even carried on as he stepped out into the meadow, feeling every muscle in his body flexing, tensing, loosening. Flexing, tensing, loosening.

I ran so far from myself...

The unnerving sound of the halberd cutting through the air howled up again, as he swung the weapon into a position of his defensive stance.

... that I lost myself. Or a piece of myself. I ran so far...

Suddenly, he charges at one of the adjacent trees, the gleam of the halberd's head cutting through the daylight of noon in a violent motion, and he appears to collapse beyond the tree onto one knee, the halberd's shaft resting against his back, and himself balancing his weight off of the two armored fingers of his left hand on the turf before him.

... that I finally found myself again.

He closes his eyes to the sound of the wood cracking apart - the apple tree falling off of the newly created treestump.

Yes, found myself again - I have.
Like sparks that rain from metal cut.
Like tears that flow into a river.
Like blood that fills entire oceans.

"I am...", says he out loud, his lips beginning to form a sentence, his eyes opening again and his facial epression hinting at surprise over his own current awkwardness.

He shakes the spinning sensation of rising schizophrenia off, and rises swiftly, and steps back onto the road with the heavy-sounding bootsteps, resonating of metal with each foot placed after the other. Walking east. Halberd clenched tightly in the armor-clad right hand.

"Embracing honor and darkness. What a wonderful paradox", mutters Sian.

"Be prepared Misjbar. I shall flow forth to thee and fill my ocean."

He turns south at the crossing.

Misj is washing his beblooded gloves, in the river. Gently brushing it with some cloth, the blood staines remain, unable to be removed. He quickly throws them away, on the millstone nearby, and walks away, searching for his depot for a new pair.

"I hope she learned her lesson....do not mess with powers you cannot comprehend.."

Damien passes by the millstone, whistling a tune while carrying his smithing tools. He notices some bloody gloves, and stops, eying them closer.
"I indeed know these..." he murmurs.
A few moments after, he takes up the wet gloves with his fingertips, eying them with interest. "Hmmmh... the most blood-rests are located on the outside, the cloth quite worn-out at the knuckles..." Even a few more moments later, they vanish in a small piece of cloth which itself goes into a chest for further examinations.

Deep in the northen mountains, a figure sits by a pool meditating, the figures eyes open in anger, and he can be watched taking a bladed staff and walking south.

Inwë Séregon takes control again, pushing Iekka's mind back into the depths of her own subcontious. Her ice blue eyes softly looking around, she smiles. The soft misty image of a white wolf walked up by her side, along with a young lad, high classed clothing, and a tribal wolf tattoo covering his face. Inwë places her hand on the youths shoulder and looks down with a smile; the youth looks up and smiles back then softly, like mist vanishing from atop the morning waters, he dissapates, along with the wolf. Inwë Séregon is only left in a patch of soft fog.

She takes a step and starts heading down the path, her battle staff hitting the ground softly every other step.

"So... let the games begin..." She whispers under her breath as she vanishes into a building.

Iekka sits under a tree, her staff over her lap as she thinks. The birds chirping softly in the tree above and the breeze softly russing it's leaves.

"What are you up to?" She whispered as she led her hand along the length of her staff, trying to get a glimpse into the Watchers dormant mind. Iekka still felt fear being alone in the streets of town, her eyes searching out from the shade of the tree and across through the grass and onto the cobble street and up along the buildings sorounding her. Her stomach fluttered in another burst of fear as a bird took flight from the tree.

Iekka sighs shutting her eyes momentarily before she though she heard footsteps, her eyes snapping open to look across the street as an elf walked by, she could have sworne that it was Misjbar but when she looked again the elf was gone.

"I am going insane... bloody parinoid." She shut her eyes again and took in a deep breath trying to slow down the pace of her heart as it raced in her chest. Iekka feels as a hand places it's self onto her shoulder, a cold hand, itls fingers long and thin, she freezes and turns her head slowly to look at it... only to see nothing.

She raises her hand to her chest, as her breaths are sharp and jagged.

"I don't fear..." She whisperes to herself. "I don't fear..."

She leans herself against the trunk of the tree, shivering occationaly, her hand held curled up on her chest.

"I'm so afraid..." Her voice is lost in the soft wind that blew from the streets, sending a few leaves fluttering along the street and up against her feet.

The sound of leather boots striking the cobblestone-covered ground echoed over the town square. Sian was determined, determined to pick up the studies a friend of him had newly taught him of. The elderly man's words of wisdom and guidance still rung in his head like a pleasant melody.
"Moirear", a voice beckoned him, causing him to halt abruptly.
A fine shiver snuck through his body, betraying the warmth of his leathermail and black garments that enclosed him like a shell. A tingling sensation overcame him, hearing the very voice of one he had chosen to be his enemy.
Misjbar.
"Sian", spoke Talaena, as the halfling was the only other person who stood on the square - standing immediately next to the elegantly dressed elf.
Misjbar gave Sian a short nod, his eyes narrowing a bit upon gazing at him. Sian only mimicked his gesture and returned a cool stare from his pale-blue eyes.
"I see Inwë still didn't kill you?", inquired the elf. "Go to your friend, Talaena. I have some business with Sian", he added then, right after the rhetorical question.
"Why, was she supposed to?", Sian asked forthright.
Talaena seemed to ponder the situation with a shade of nervosity.
"Sian, be careful", said Talaena.
"Actually, yes", the elf said out loud.
"Be careful, Tal? We know that's impossible", Sian replied with a smirk.
"Especially around -her-", the halfling added.
Misjbar whispered something to Talaena soothingly, his voice sounding soft - almost assuming a sneaky air about it.
Talaena walked off.
"So... you are not dead", the elf stated, directing his gaze back to the young man, then slowly beginning to shake his head. "She never listens."
Sian looked down at himself for a brief glance upon his own body and features.
"It appears so. Say, my friend", spoke Sian like a silver-tongued devil.
Misjbar tilted his head, seemingly in disbelief over the last uttered word.
"You wouldn't happen to be sending your lapdogs after me lately, would you?", Sian finally inquired, not dropping his guard of asking forthright questions.
"No no", Misjbar countered, "I thought I had Inwë for that. But now. Well - maybe, ey?"
"I don't have the impression she's your lapdog", Sian commented coldly.
"No", the elf replied again, adding a pause. "She isn't."
Sian nodded briefly, brushing the tip of his tongue silently against his teeth.
"I have other contacts for that. She just refused to listen", Misjbar added again.
"Would you excuse me for a moment?", Sian asked openly.
"No", the elf replied quickly, sinking into a deep thought himself.
"I have these items on me I'd like to put away", Sian asked, seemingly ignorant of the reply, and narrowing his eyes upon hearing it.
"Who says you won't be putting on some fighting gear?", Misjbar asked in a truly suave tone.
"I'd only fetch my comb", Sian answered, chuckling softly to himself. "I was in fact on my way to the desert", he adds, patting two sickles latched onto and hanging down from his belt.
"Well then", Misjbar ruled.
"Care to join me on the way?", the young man asked the noble-looking elf, his own lips curling into a cold grin.
"Certainly", Misjbar replied with a perfectly calm and neutral facial expression.
Sian walked past him, entering Eliza's shop and making headway to one of the chests near the corner. Feeling the prying eyes of the elf burning in his back, he kicked the depot chest open and dumped the large bag he had been carrying, inside. In turn, he drew three flasks of a green liquid from the chest and flapped his cloak aside, revealing bandoliers underneath - adorned with numerous daggers. He slipped the flasks into some empty spots on the bandolier.
"One request", Misjbar spoke. "Lose the bandolier."
Sian ignored the glib remark, and stepped to the corner, grabbing a menacingly large halberd, which had been leaned up against the wall. As if sensing the anger that Sian had been fighting back down in the past few minutes, Misjbar almost instinctively took a step back away from the lad.
"And the halberd...", Misjbar added.
"Hm? This is my comb", Sian replied wittily. "I use this to... trim people's hair."
"No, you have to be kidding me", said the elf.
Sian only grinned coldly, resulting in Misjbar taking another step backwards away from him, and into the light cast through the shop's entrance.
"Shall we?", the lad asked, lowering the massive weapon to his side.
In turn, the Misjbar did not reply. His eyes merely followed Sian, as the youth walked past him, spoke a "Farewell Eliza" with a blind wave to the lizard, and stepped outside. Misjbar closely followed him, over the square and towards the eastern gate of Troll's Bane. Sian strode further, straight through the gate, the elf halting and peering at him from inside the town's limits.
"Where are you going?", Misjbar asked.
"The long way to the desert", was Sian's reply.
"You are going the wrong way", Misjbar insisted.
"I like the marshes, you know", Sian added, turning and stepping over a sinkhole of mud onto some slightly firmer ground.
"I guess so", the elf said, slowly closing in on him.
"Mud. Filth", Sian said with a cold grin, back still turned to the elf, and ignoring how he scoffed behind him at the new remark. "Flies. A mirror of this town."
Sian wandered east relentlessly, not missing a beat. Having passed through half the marshes, he stopped upon the elf summoning him to halt with a sudden "Wait".
"We will go past Tanora's shrine", spoke Misjbar.
"Indeed. I am quite fond of her", Sian replied.
"No, I mean - we will go pray there", Misjbar proposed.
"A splendid idea!", Sian remarked, then laughing softly, almost menacingly, as the cold grin seemed to not have vanished from his features.
They passed through the shadows cast by the trees adorning the face of Tanora's shrine after they exited the murky grounds of the marshes. Misjbar's pace seemed to pick up in strength and speed, passing the youth and leading the way then, while Sian grew almost unnoticeably slower with every step. Tanora's impressive statue loomed overhead of the shrine in the distance. Wandering deeper into the sacred grounds, they treaded lightly over the thick patches of flowers and grass that covered the narrow solid ground beneath them. Misjbar lept over a piece of water to move deeper into the grounds of the shrine.
"You are a fool, you know that?", Misjbar asked Sian.
The youth stopped and asked: "How so?"
The elf pressed on. Sian followed him again and took a leap over the water as well.
"Inwë has you in too deep", the elf countered. "You are SO human - corruptible from deep within."
"Too deep in -what-?", Sian almost innocently asked.
"In her webs", was the only reply he got, the elven priest moving yet faster and deeper into the winding paths of the shrine.
"Or could she be in mine?", Sian countered again with another cold smirk written accross his face.
"No. You are human", the priest spoke, never turning back to look at him while he walked, but maintaining a good distance from the human lad. "You would not have the brainpower to make a web. Let alone trap anyone in them", elaborated the elf.
"Ah yes. Comparable to 'orcish logic', I assume?", inquired Sian yet again.
Instead of replying, the elf flinched at how his cloak was getting wet from the splashing of the waves around them, expressing this source of discontent under his breath.
"No. For orcs have no logic", concluded Misjbar.
Sian emits a soft chuckle in return.
"Oh, but how mistaken you are, my friend", Sian uttered in a calm voice.
"How so?", the elf inquires, turning around and spotting how Sian covered the distance with surprisingly agile footsteps, almost reminding him of a cat. "Stop!", called Misjbar, unhappy of the sudden vicinity of the youth to himself, then moving on again to increase the distance, upon Sian halting anew. "How mistaken am I, then?"
Sian smiles to himself, muttering, "I need not say."
"Yes you do", was the countered reply.
Sian slowly followed, leaving the elf to tread at a distance as he wished.
"I am, after all you say, not even capable of spinning a simple web. Therefore I am not even capable of speaking the truth - nor lying", Sian explained. He smirked again upon ending his speech, still following after Misjbar, their figures now darting in between the shady brushes of the sanctuum. The elf shook his head in utter annoyance upon Sian's words.
"Oh, please", escaped the elf's lips. "Are you coming?", he asked aloud, having noticed that Sian had stopped to gaze at a statue with an admiring glance.
"I love this place", Sian spoke. Then he inhaled deeply. And closed his eyes for a brief moment. "The serenity of it all."
"What about Brágon? Or Eldan?", pondered the reputed priest of the Five. "Would you feel the same serenity with them?"
"I am sure I would. For the serenity is inside myself", Sian spoke calmly, slowly opening his eyes while his feet already guided him on, and after the elf.
Finally, they reached the grand statue of Tanora. Misjbar majestically flapped his cloak back, effectively spreading it out, and seating himself on the left beneath the statue. Closing his eyes in a meditative fashion. Sian crossed the passageway through the waves, his leather bootsteps tapping against the overgrown marble ground, the crashing of the flood drowning the very noise thereof. Before having neared the statue completely, Sian lowered his head, and then moved to the right beneath the monument, descending onto one knee. He gently placed the halberd on the ground beneath him, it eventually lying flat against the cool marble slate. His eyes slowly shut to the noise of the ocean ever-flowing around them.
Misjbar's eyes suddenly darted back open and he crawled towards Sian silently. Then he outstretched a hand to the halberd. His hand crept closer and closer to the shaft of the weapon, and he did not deter, not hearing whispered words exit Sian's lips.
"Blessed be Tanora", he whispered.
The elf laid his hand on the halberd's shaft, trying to slide it inaudibly towards himself.
"May she forgive the sins we commit in her many faces", Sian's lips articulated in more whispered words.
Misjbar slid the weapon closer and closer to himself. Sian seemed to not have noticed. The priest's hand finally grasped the weapon's handle firmly. He then stood up, dragging the halberd along with some now obvious noise.
"So", Misjbar utters out loud.
"And may her rivers of life come full circle, encompassing even justice, valor, and honor", Sian concluded, his voice now at full volume level of speech - eyes still closed, head yet lowered to the statue of Tanora.
Misjbar took another step back away from the youth and clutched the massive polearm now in both hands, gazing at Sian, who only slowly opened his eyes again. And arose, his gaze cast over the face of the ocean.
"Sian, tell me", the elf spoke.
"Yes?", he asked innocently, still admiring the vast infinity of the ocean's distance, and not one second turning to return a glance to the elf nearby.
"Were you going to murder me the second you had the chance?", Misjbar inquired.
"No. Tanora be witness, truth be told."
"I was told you were after me - in the name of Inwë", the elf implored.
"I am", spoke Sian grimly.
"What were you going to do then?"
"See with my own eyes", Sian replied with another pause, gaze glued to the waters.
"See what?"
Sian outstretched an arm, and motioned at the ocean before them with a sweeping gesture. The elf's gloved hands still held the halberd in a firm clutch, gazing at the young man with disbelief written all over his face.
"My last steps that led me to this island, led me to almost drowning in a wide ocean. Only one thing can be thanked for that, my survival given", replied Sian finally. "Although the word 'thing' sounds disrespectful when I say it", he pondered out loud.
His pale-blue eyes were covered again, his eyelids shut again slowly. He inhaled deeply. The priest drew the halberd to his side, seemingly preparing a swift blow to sweep Sian off his feet and into the ocean.
The lad exhaled as deeply as he had inhaled, eyes wide shut.
"Would you use that - in HER face, Misjbar? In face of Tanora? Raise my weapon against me?", he scornfully inquired, eyes still remaining loosely shut.
The halberd soared through the air, its axe-head emitted an eery sound as the priest swung at him and Misjbar shouted: "Yes I would!"
Sian dropped down onto one knee, the weapon blowing over him in a dangerous swipe.
"Tanora is but a fool", uttered Misjbar, and the halberd was hurled around again in another semi-circle, smashing a piece of marble clean out of the ground where Sian had been standing only a split-second ago.
Two silver daggers flared up in the daylight, emerging from behind Sian's back and almost launching themselves into his hands. Misjbar swung again at him, speaking one last sentence out loud: "And Moshran will be the ruler in the end."
Sian stepped away from the vertical blow, and it smashed into the marble, cleaving and dividing plants and rocks alike, while the young man regained an offensive stance, the two blades spinning into position in his palms. The waves of the ocean crashed around them relentlessly, orchestrating the now raging battle beneath Tanora's statue. Sian finally advanced, and slashed accross the elf's chest and legs, then ramming the dagger into his stomach and drawing it from the new wound as swiftly as it had punctured the priest's sturdy armor.
The elf took a firm step back, and the halberd came swinging around again, in a full circle, this time connecting the blunt side of the axe-head with Sian's chest and bashing him into the massive statue, which caught his fall. The two groaned at eachother, and through gritted teeth, Sian pushed himself off the statue and feinted an attack with his left, but then plunged the other dagger into an open spot of the now revealed armor plates, right in between Misjbar's neck and shoulder.
The elf's arms grew limp, yet, still firmly holding the halberd, while his knees slowly gave away and he fell to the ground with a shout of fury.
"DAMNED!"
Sian drew the dagger from Misjbar's shoulder, ignoring a spurt of blood into his face and he stepped back, staring at him through cold, pale-blue eyes. The body of Misjbar sunk to the ground, now reduced to a lifeless corpse.
"Justice prevails", Sian muttered. "Tanora guided my blades."
He still firmly gripped both daggers in each hand, and he lowered his head again.
And then something invaded his mind, like a dark cloud of hatred.
"Sian - you are NOT justice!", this something whispered inside of him.
Misjbar.
"We'll see", Sian spoke calmly.
"You are deluded by that FOOL, Inwë", the voice boomed inside his heart. "If you tell about this - may your life be insecure and full of death."
Sian laughs, trying to shake the ghostly presence of the elf out of his head.
"I need not tell anybody!", Sian spoke, fighting down anger that arose anew.
Sian outstretched his arm and a bloody dagger, and again motioned at the wide of the ocean in a sweeping gesture.
"May you suffer in the fires of Moshran", the voice reverberated in his head.
"Tanora is my witness", Sian uttered valiantly.
"Hmpf - Tanora is weak", rumbled the spirit.
"As are all the Gods - even your Moshran?"
"Her appearances are dwindling", the spirit continued mercilessly. "Moshran approved of my action. Dravish will come..."
Sian kneeled down, a sense of a head-ache overcoming him in a creeping manner. He sheathed the two blood-stained daggers behind his back and gathered up the elf's remains into his arms.
"Shall he come. Let him come!", Sian muttered angrily, gritting his teeth.
Misjbar's voice boomed inside his head in an angry shout, then whispering into his heart again: "You are hateful."
"Hateful?", Sian asked, wincing at the voice resonating throughout his thoughts.
"Sian - do not let yourself be mislead."
The young man grinned coldly, perhaps colder than ever before.
"As I said-", he began, his pale-blue eyes focusing on the passageway over the water and taking a first step away from the scene of confrontation.
"She is powerful enough", interrupted a ghostly whisper.
"I am the one spinning webs here", muttered Sian.
"Tell me then? What webs can you POSSIBLY spin?", the spirit angrily echoed.
"I feel not obliged to tell my enemy", was the cold response from Sian.
"Minutes ago, you called me 'friend'", mocked a ghostly whisper deep within.
Sian moved away, almost dragging his feet along from this new weight that burdened him. "Fool - truly a fool", the spirit carried on.
"Minutes ago, you had not yet raised my own weapon against me", countered Sian, his eyes now staring blankly into the distance, while his feet carried him away almost like in a trance.
"Trust is earned - or lost", Sian muttered, trying to shake his mind and heart free from the spirit's haunting whispers.
"I never trusted you. I knew you were too weak", the whisper mercilessly whispered.
"I once trusted you, therefore I must be weak", exited Sian's lips, then turning into a soft laughter, as if trying to shun the spirit with mockery of his own.
"Weak in your human way - weak against Inwë", the elf's spirit continued.
"Think what you wish", spoke Sian, walking through the shade of the shrine's palm trees.
"The Gods cast no shadows, nor do they wink an eye", Sian finished in a calm, but now firm voice.
He stepped towards the pathway leading out of the shrine. And looked around himself, almost in disbelief.
The spirit had vanished from inside himself.
Grim thoughts circled Sian's mind, as he made way back to Troll's Bane.

Dravish sits within a room which seemingly has no doors, the only contents of the room being a table littered with scrolls, the chair upon which he sits and a bookcase leanining upon the wall oppersite him.

Quill in hand the darkly clad elf read's from one of the many scrolls upon the table, making a adjustment upon the scroll every so often the elf remains otherwise motionless.

Sian drew the dagger from Misjbar's shoulder, ignoring a spurt of blood into his face and he stepped back, staring at him through cold, pale-blue eyes. The body of Misjbar sunk to the ground, now reduced to a lifeless corpse.

Dravish raises an eyebrow and pauses in his reading for a mere moment before once more looking to the words.

Where was I?
Sian's lungs felt as if they screamed for air. Heart pounding violently against his chest. The darkness around him blackening all the more. His body floated, as if in nothingness.
Drifting...
His limbs cried out to move, to pull, to thrash, but he forced himself to hold back. Find a limit.
Who am I?
Then his lungs felt like they were about to tear.
He crashed out from under the water. Shooting up through the surface. His loud gasp and violent intake of breath was drowned by the waves that crashed around him. The cool breeze and the fresh air rushed against the heat in his lungs, almost like a chemical reaction - making him feel like he burned inside.
He gasped and panted for air, lungs intaking it greedily. Drips pearling down bare skin like endless tears. As he broke through the waves and onto the southern shore, he swam along until his feet felt ground, yet still standing amidst of the fierceful waves. His figure neared a sandy beach, somewhat hunched, but slowly assuming a posture where he stood straight. His gaze shot upwards, meeting the moon-lit sky, while cold waves flowed about his waist.
"I ... owe Tanora", were the words that exited trembling lips.
He paused where he stood and glanced down at his chest.
Nearly completely covered in the newly-found scars from the monsters that had assaulted the town that day. And not at last, reminding him again of someone. He shivered at the thought, despite feeling a rising warmth inside. And glanced back up to the moon that shone down upon him, while the waves still crashed against his body.
He waded through the water, black wet stringy hair flailing around his face, as he made way to the beach's sandy face, and collapsed onto it, rolling onto his back, still breathing heavily.
And he stared at the moon again.
Feeling the cold water. Ebbing and flowing around him on the wet sand, sickering in between bare skin and cool ground. That was when everything washed back over him. Flashing memories. Through his mind. Voices. Thoughts. It all sweeped over him, his eyes falling shut like in a trance, yet then fluttering right back open. His pale blue eyes were marked with delusion, and reflected a steady glow, paired with the glittering of the stars.
The sight of the moon.
He flopped over onto his side, then stemming himself off the ground, then watching the water drip down from his body, until he knelt in the sand, back turned to ocean. His hands shot forward and dug into the soft ground, suddenly tearing and pulling at it. Fervently drawing into it.
Signs.
Like a madman, he drew the signs into the ground. Signs he had drawn onto rough paper. Back arching over, hands digging into the soaked sand. Signs that had burned into his memory like a scorching brand onto animal's hide. His breathing quickened, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the signs forming in the wet sand between his clawing fingers. Breathing seemed erratic, as he drew a long line with two fingers, cleaving through the muddish ground and dividing the five symbols.
And then, he was done. His back straightened, almost stiffened, and the pain from new wounds washed away with cool water and guilt. Pale-blue eyes scanning the deed that was done.
"Found myself... and lost myself again", said Sian out loud in shaky voice but ending it almost in a whisper, as cold hands glided over the bumps of once smooth skin, mentally embracing every new scar that had found onto its surface.
"Is this what I owe you, Tanora? Or are my instincts right? And the sin cannot be washed away?", he inquired softly, eyelids falling shut into place as hands still glided over every new bump and imperfection on his skin.
A thought crystallized in his mind.
No answer. Is also an answer.
He rose shakily, and finally standing up straight again, the sound of bare feet tapping against the ground of the nightly beach revolved with slapping noises. The footsteps distanced themselves.
The tide washed over the signs. Which were the signs he had drawn onto parchment in face of the two halflings Brendan and Talaena, just that very eve that had preceded nightfall.

• 

The youth grabbed his belongings, and paused in a tree's shadow to hastily veil his naked body again in his black outfit.
Then he made way for the nearby monastery, waning in visibility and almost seeming to melt into the shadows of the night. But as his figure darted between the trees and picked up in speed, it could never fully escape the moonlight.
Ever.

Inwë Séregon sat at the table in the tavern, a pipe filled with Sibinac leaf - a 'treat' that Karmane had given Iekka a few weeks back. Her deep-green Gold-trimmed cloak hung around her body, it's hood pulled up over her head, shadowing her face, a small trail of smoke flowing from her mouth. She slowly raises the pipe, held between two elegant fingers, up to her lips and inhales softly and slowly, then lowers it as she exhales, another line of smoke gently sweeping from her lips.

She twiddles a dagger in her other hand, watching the light glint and reflect off of it's blade with little intrest; her white-blue pale eyes watching it's every movement.

"Mistress?" A youth seemed to form from the smoke filling the room, his hair black and a tribal-wolf tattoo inscribed into his face. His clothing deep reds and oranges, trimed in a thick black, he looks as though the son of a noble, in his early teens.

Inwë doesn't look up as she takes in another swill from the pipe.

"You've seem troubled,-" The youth continued as a wolf seemed to form from the smoke beside the youth, it's fur a soft white. "-ever since the letter from Karmane."

She flips the blade over, still looking at it while exhaleing, the room dark, the glowing embers from the fire emphisising the smoke.

"Be gone, my love." She says softly, her voice a dead calm.

"As you will, mistress." The youth bows deeply to her as dissapates back into the smoke, and wolf also vanishing.

Inwë sighs as she raises the pipe back to her lips and lets it rest there, staring at the blade, speaking silently over the pipe.

"Why is my mind so troubled..." She places her dagger down and picks up the letter from the table and reads it again, her eyes softly flowing over his words as she slowly inhales once again, letting the smoke out just over the parchment.

"Karmane..." She seemed to let her words flow with the smoke from her mouth. "Moirear..."

She leans back and lets the letter catch a flame from the fire, slowing watching it turn to ash in her hands.

"Why do you haunt me so... I do not feel, but you two..." She leans back over the table, picking the dagger back up and looking at it with intrest.

"Emotions are curious..." She takes in another breath from the pipe, letting it fill her lungs, before slowly exhaling.

'Pitter patter on the mind, both of you play your rhymes.' She thinks to herself, twiddling the dagger in her fingers carefuly.

"Hm..." Inwë sighs exhaling again as she slowly lets the dagger rest on the table and stares off across the room. "Curious indeed..."

Inwë gets up from the table, takeing in one last puff from the pipe as the rays of dawn shine in thorugh the windows, the fine long gone out. She carefuly empties the pipe into a small sac before putting it away in her bag. She pulls her hood back around her shoulders with a slight yawn, tossing the bag over her shoulder and picking up her dagger from the table, to sheath it in her belt.

"And yet another night with no sleep." She mutters to herself as she slowly leaves the tavern, haveing had watched all the people come and go in the night, no one had noticed her in the shadows by the fire - as it had always been like. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Inwë walks out onto the street, her eyes quickely ajusting to the light with a slight sheen of gold before she takes in a deep breath of the fresh morning air. She runs her hand thorugh her hair, pulling back deep golden-red strands back to fall softly around her shoulders again.

"Alright Iekka, the days is yours." She said softly as she carefuly sat herself into the depot, so that when the transistion came, the body did not fall onto the hard ground.

Inwë shuts her soft white-blue eyes and takes in a soft breath as the body is sorrounded in a soft white glowing mist, much like the mists from the dew on the roves as it rose up in the mornings sun. The body wavers slightly and the eyes flash open again, now a gright emerald green and she coughs, placeing her hands onto her knees and staring at the street, her bag slipping from off her shoulder and falling down into the nook of her arm. Iekka takes in a slow, unsteady breath as she gets back to her feet, pulling the bag back onto her shoulder. She looks out around her and shuts her eyes sadly.

"Maybe one day soon I will be rid of you...Inwë." Iekka whispers softly as she takes a careful step, opeing her eyes again and heading along the street.

"Maybe one day..."

The trees in the woods move softly in a breeze, and a silent laughter is caught and pulled into the town. It's voice cold yet filled with such amusement.

It laughs...
It mocks...

Iekka pulls the hood of her cloak up over her head carefuly to block out the laughter.

"...I will find a way..." She whispers.

Words rung in his head, as Sian wandered out beyond the marshes.
But more went along with them.

• In life as well in death, I shall breathe the breath.
  Her instrument I am now, as the Watchers shall allow.
  
  Together as a song, before the Goddess be long gone.
  May joy soar through the air, and forgotten be despair.
  
  River come full circle; in eternal melody!
  
  Lo' there I see the ferry, it shall not leave for me;
  these stones for me to carry, from flowing forth to thee.
  
  Wherever my valor stand, your horrors will make you weep;
  heed the call and take thy hand, put you to eternal sleep.
  
  One simple graze of touch, from her finger oceans spring;
  delivered to her clutch, feel stab and gash and sting.
  
  Beware of terror she teems, forgotten she'll be never;
  as truth's not what it seems, yet we shall grasp forever.

Now standing fully still under a tree, Sian seemed to be lost thoughts. In a moment of short realization, a brief glimpse of the eternal cycle of life and death opened itself to him, yet shut its eyes again before the present when the moment passed. He stood in front of the Shrine, the large statue standing calm in the distance. The shadows of the tree seemed to engulf him, while his mind emptied itself almost as if in deep meditation.
When suddenly a raven flapped its wings and fluttered down, perching itself on his shoulder. A smile twitched about the corners of Sian's lips, while glimpsing the large black bird from the corner of his eyes. He tilted his head a bit, looking at the raven, and the bird mimicked his move, staring at him through bead-like, shiny black eyes. The youth carefully raised his leather-clad left wrist, and with some black feathers shed, and subtle flapping of wings, the bird complied to the offer. Then fully smiling at the bird, it only tilted its head and stared into the lad's pale blue eyes. Sian drew two scrolls from his belt and gently fastened them to the bird's leg, using some thread and timidly, yet carefully knotting and fastening it.

He leaned and whispered to the raven, bidding it to bring the parchments to Damien.

The bird set off, majestically flapping its wings, as Sian gazed back off into the distance of the statue at the oceanside. He crossed his arms, emitted a soft sigh. And he pondered deeply whether he should ignore Shukk's recent threat or not.

Iekka hit her fists against the tree, ripping thorugh her flesh.

"Don't do this...!" She pleas as she slips down to her knees, then pulls all the strength she can to get back to her feet, and stumble a few more steps to the next tree.

"This is my body! Leave me alone!" Tears streamed down her face as her hands grabbed onto another tree trying to hold herself up. Her soft green eyes flashed a perly white-blue then faded back to green.

"No! Please... please don't do this!...Inwë, I beg of you!..." Iekka fell to her knees in the woods, her body trembeling as she faught as hard as she could to hold control over her body, over who she was.

Her body started to let off a soft white mist and she screamed, her face covered in tears. Her voice echoing back up into town; but no one could come... no one could do anything.

Her body quivers as she looks out thorugh her eyes for the last time, a patch of sunlight shimmering on the soft moist earth. She smiled at the beauty of it, at the sheer power of that one image that floated in her mind.

"Callith... I'm sorry..." The words trembled from her lips as her eyes slowly closed. Her hand slowly slipping from the tree that it was touching, and her body slowly giveing way. Her body still fighting back against the take-over.

Iekka opens her eyes once more slightly, fighting back with everything she had left to look at the patch of sunlight infront of her as the tears streamed down her face.

Her body lay limp in the soil, her eyes once again shut the mist slowly fadeing.

Her eyes snap open; pale-white-blue stareing directly at the patch of golden sun infront of her and she smiles warmly as she pulls her arms up infront, propping herself up onto her elbows looking at it.

"So it begins, with the sun setting... tomorrows dawn shall bring another day, and start me, a new life..." She slowly rises to her feet as she walks off through the woods to the edge of the sea where she took off the deep green cloak, folding it neatly and setting in on a rock, along with her gloves and sac. She placed her two staves beside the rock, along with her dagger and two other long swords. She gently removed the ring from her finger and tucked it carefuly into the sac. She removes her leather armor and places it too onto the rock.

She turns to the sea, only her leather pants and a loose fitting white blouse covering her. Behind her from the mists, a youth steps out, his outfit the same as every time he is seen. A red-orange tunic with a black trim, his dark hair faling around his eyes and the tribal wolf tattoo on his face.

"It is time." The boy spoke softly as two pure white wolves formed from the mist and sat on either side of him. "Life is your again mistress..."

She takes in a deep breath as she wades out into the water untill the waves break at her knees, and she kneels into the water. The suns last rays had long been consumed by the night.

"Yes..." She whispers softly. "It is time...."

The youth walks up so that the waves just break on his soft leather boots, the two wolves follwing and regaining their posissions on either side of him.

"Speak your name to her."

"I am Inwë Séregon."

"From the waters flow life, in it still is your life. Call it, beg it..."

She shuts her eyes and takes in a slow long breath.

"To these waters I give my soul, I ask for this body to be washed clean. To once again walk as who I once was. Bring rotten flesh back to the bone, burnt hair to shine again."

"She does not listen..."

"Then I shall do it myself."

"Be warned."

"I am."

She opens her eyes and looks into the black waters breaking around her body.

"My time has come, my time is here, of wind and earth, I summon you.
In my soul, lies my corpse.
My minds eye still seeing, my mind still alive.
I take this body, her debt to be payed.
My flesh reborn,
Into this night..."

"Let it be, that the blades do not burn,
That what was so long ago, will return."

She lets the waters break over her arms, and her hands.

"Skin once white..."

Slowly the tan of Iekka's body started to fade, washed away by the waves, her expression did not change.

"Body burnt, and desictated.
To all be brought back again..."

"Hair like snow..."

She lowered her head under the water, letting the waves break over her. Slowly the dark golden-red of Iekka's hair started to wash out, replaced by a dirty white. She slowly raised her head from the waters, her eyes shut and the water beading from her face, dripping from her nose.

She slowly stood and walked further into the waters, untill the waves covered her entire body.

"A fragile frame,
That hides the power..."

She surfaced a few meaters out, letting the waves bring her back to shore, her face holding a dark smile as she slowly colided with the sands, and she stood, the waters still breaking at her knees.

Without a word she turned and walked back to shore, her feet gently treding on the dry sands.

The youth comes up behind her and wraps her in a thick cloak to dry her. He steps back.

"Welcome back, mistress. Welcome back, Lady Séregon." He bows deeply to her and she looks down at him with soft pale white, blue eyes as the suns first rays of dawn broke over the land.

She holds her hand out infront of her, no longer a dark tan as it was hours before, but a soft pale peach, and she smiles. The sun glinting off her soft dirty-white hair as if fell in gently waves around her shoulders.

"I- " She looks back out over the ocean. "I'm back..."

The youth smiles softly at her as both of the wolves howl to the dawn.

Inwë walks thourgh the streets, her breaths heavy and her soft white hair barly falling out from the deep green hood she had pulled up over her head. Her pale peach sking all covered and her staff fimly in her hand as her eyes searched out thorugh the dark empty streets. Every slep the gently clang of the chain mail under her shirt could be heard, and the soft scoffing of her boots against the cobble.

"Grace, silence.." She whispered silently under her breath, as she tried to stiffle the sound.

She kept herself in the shadows, the gently flickering of torches from occational houses and buildings she passed. She turned south, walking by the tavern, to hear a steady sound of laughter, and the chatter of people, a gentle glow of light flowing out into the streets. The clanging of plates and glasses and the thick smell of alchahol. She continued on.

She slipped silently through the South gate and down the path, her staff still fimrly in her hand. She dashed behind a tree upon seeing a skeloton as it clanked along, then a few more followed. Her eyes looked up upon the prision walls, then she headed East into the woods, stepping over branches and rocks. She stopped at the shore.

"South, or East..." She asked quietly out loud. "Monastery, or trolls... no one would think to look for me in the Eastern woods..." She pulled her cloak around her and continued East, heading out of the woods and across the grasses untill the next forest loomed up infront of her.

She stops and looks into the thick woods.

"Hunter becomes the hunted... you will pay for this Callith, you will pay." She mutters darkly under her breath as she steps from the moonlight back into the dark shadows of the woods and though the trees. Her figure slowly vanishes in a thick mist that starts to fill the woods behind her.

She dashes past trees, past Trolls, past beasts and sleeping birds; through the tangles of vines and shrubs, through fallen logs. The mist follows her, as do wolves, white smokey wolves; and a child. A handsome young youth.

She appears by the shore again, always the shore, breaking waves hitting the soft sands. It's eruthmic pounding almost setting her into a trance.

"Mistress." The youths voice echos softly over the waves. It's air dead, and yet filled with so much life. Inwë flinches.

"Yes my child?" She asks, stepping closer to the bank, her eyes scanning the horrizon.

"Why do you run?" The youth inquires, Inwë shuts her eyes softly as she pulls back her hood around her shouders, her soft white hair falling back out.

"Because I am hunted, as I was those many years ago." She replys sadly, remebering the day when her life was ripped from her body, as with the youth, and their bodies desicrated and burnt.

"But, mistress... Iekka is taken care of." He spoke slowly and calmly. "You have let her sleep, was she not the only one who hunted you?"

Inwë opens her eyes again, looking out over the breaking waves, white tops shimmering in the moonlight.

"Iekka found another to love. And he, wants rid of me." She sighed.

"Mistress, is this 'hunter' not Callith?" The youth held his hands properly infront of him, looking up through his soft pale eyes and strands of black hair that fall around his face. The tribal-wolf tattoo scribed across his face.

Inwë turns and looks at the youth for a moment, then slowly looks back to the waves.

"Yes my love. It is Callith." She spoke softly.

The youths face darkened, and no longer a pleasent look of innocence did it hold, but a dark snarl of power, his eyes seemed to glow the same red as his bright red-orange tunic as his head lowered slightly, his eyes still looking up.

"Then kill him..." The youth hisses, his hands not moveing, his body hardly moveing.

Inwë smiles slightly, raising her head, still looking over the sea.

"Maybe."

The young lad takes a few steps up beside her, untill his head was level with her shoulder and his eyes gazed across the water.

"I shall not watch you fall again, mistress." He said, his face innocent again, soft and pure, with empty pale eyes learching out from his short black hair which fell over his eyes.

"I do not intend to fall again, my child, I do not intend to." She looks at him as he slowly seems to fade into whisps of white mist untill he is no more, she looks back over the waters with a look of sadness, and power; both held in one.

"I do not intend to..." She whispered one last time to the waves.

Inwë sits at the far corner of the tavern, her pipe in hand and the room filled with a thick smoke. She sighs as she leans herself back, looking over the pipe into the flickering flames calmly; letting her mind drift off.

She listened to her heart beat, the blood pumping though her body, it's erythmic beat pounding thorugh her chest. She takes in another puff from the pipe, listening carefuly to the working of her body, each thump of her heart.

Thump thump

Thump

Thump thump

Thump

Thump thump

Thumbump

Thump thump

Thump

Thumbumpthump

She raises a brow, hearing the murmer but passes it off as she lets the stream of smoke flow from her mouth. Inwë watches the flames as they dance softly.

'Life, a single heart beat, a single motion...'

Thump

Thumbump

Thump

'Another heart?' Her thoughts flow softly through her mind. 'No, only one life, one body.'

Thumbump

Thump thump

Inwë lowers her pipe from her mouth, listening ever more careful now to the murmer in her body. Her eyes slowly move from the flames and down to her stomach.

Thumbump

Thump thump

Thumpbump

Her jaw quivers slightly and she gulps.

"...a child." She whispers as the pipe hits the tavern floor.