Welcome to Gaia! ::

His frantic searching to ensure that he hadn't been caught ruining their ritual or summoning ceremony or whatever this even was seemed to reward him, however. There was something flickering in the candlelight, just a few feet from where he stood. Curious, he made his way towards it, reaching to pick it up. Some kind of stone or token?

Well, it might be important later. He put it in his pocket and wandered towards the pyre in the center of the room. He didn't quite make it in time to catch the conversation, but did manage a glimpse at someone approaching the fire with something sparkly.

The ghoul got a happy flap of feathers as she introduced herself. "Hi. I'm Israfel. This place is so cool isn't it? I like the jewelry. And those statues." He pointed to the one with wings. Majestic.Looking around at the other elaborate decor, the siren smiled at Aruian. Yay more people! And- Thackary too? YAYYYYYY! The siren silently was cheering.

He didn't really know who the one lady was but he edged closer, smiling yet saying nothing.

"Aurian." Lacie repeated with surprised warmth, returning the hug gently. She had been all right as well. "I'm all right." She reassured the older ghoul. Although there were lines of tension that marked her young face, saying that emotionally, she hadn't completely recovered from the trial ordeals. But given time, she surely would.

Although Lacie had vaguely noticed the aroma, it seemed to be far stronger now. Had she remained here too long? The scent caused Lacie's head to cloud, Lacie bringing her hand to her forehead as if she could clear the obstruction. Her vision seemed to be a bit blurry. She didn't even notice the priestess near them until the cloaked figure spoke. "I-I see.." Lacie repeated. Although she didn't really understand, she didn't have the energy to ask as Aurian had. Her steps were a little unsteady, almost as if she had trouble supporting herself.

As she tried to compose herself, she caught sight of her new friend. "Thackery." She stagged a bit, coming over to where he was. She tugged on his shirt to catch his attention. "I'm glad to see you."

But her head wouldn't stop pounding. When the head priestess began, Lacie heard the words dimly. As if it wasn't herself. But her body couldn't help but obey, falling rather than sitting down. Her golden eyes were hazy as her hand reached out to the mirror.

What was..?

-------------------------

The reaper was draped over a chair, long icy blue sleeves training from her arms. Her voice didn’t seem as if it were her own. All Lacie could do was stare, stare form the eyes of another person, speaking in a manner that wasn’t entirely her own. “Tell me..”

“What are their current status?” Her silky voice inquired of the man who stood next to her. His face was shrouded, a large hooded cloak covering his entirety. Yet Lacie felt as if she could trust him. No, ‘could’ was not the word. She had entrusted everything to him… and to them.

“They have already crossed the border. Our battle is imminent.”

He brought the tips of her long hair to his lips. "We are at your service, my liege. Tell us where to move next."

Several men and woman – dressed differently than the other minions, remained in the front row. Including the man at her side, they totaled to seven generals. Seven people with whom she would entrust her life to.

“Your seven generals have arrived.”

Even though Lacie didn’t speak, the queen’s words echoed her thoughts. She stood up, surveying the crowds. Her gaze finally settled on the seven generals, making eye contact with each of them. The words flowed naturally out of her mouth. “You all know what to do.” The hundreds that stood at her feet, all ready to battle. Making a sweeping, derisive movement with one hand, she commanded, “Do not die. Whether your tidings carry victory or defeat, I will not accept your deaths.”
With that said, she turned around, her clothes trailing behind her as she retreated.

“Rest..” The hooded man suggested, “You’ve gotten no rest.”
Come to think of it.. Lacie’s body felt heavy and exhausted. “What have I been doing?” She asked of her companion. “You’ve been pushing yourself too far for the past few weeks. Even until late yesterday, you remained in a meeting to discuss matters with your seven generals. And for you to organize your army and to mobilize them so soon afterwards – it must be taking its toll on you.”

Lacie stopped. Holding her hands together, as if praying to a higher god, she could only say softly, “I wish to protect my people and my kingdom. It is not my desire to hurt others. But a kingdom cannot be sustained on such wishes alone.”

Her kingdom was a small kingdom in the North. They did not initiate attacks, only engaging those who attacked. Lacie chose to culture diplomatic relations with the surrounding countries. She didn’t wish to shed pointless blood. But at times like these, they were forced to do otherwise. It was only when they were left with no other alternatives that Lacie chose to fight. The people of the kingdom were relatively used to peace. But their military had been trained strictly for unexpected times.

“In my current position, I cannot fight.” She was shouldering the hopes of all the people in her country. At this moment, she could not afford to die. “But it is hard to watch.” She stared out a full length window at the snowing land, “I feel so useless, leaving all the work to you and the rest of the generals.” She sighed regretfully.

“So let me do what I can.” She turned around to smile at the male beside her.

“P..princess..!” He ran to her, picking her up desperately in his arms. One hand clutched her waist, the other one pushing her head into his chest. Under normal circumstances, taken aback, the current Lacie would have been flustered and surprised. But she sensed his worry, his overwhelming grief if anything should happen. “Please do not worry.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, reassuring him.

“Everything will be all right.”

“Don’t bear everything by yourself. We’re all here for you.”

----------------

She woke up with tears in her eyes. No, it couldn't be.. She was still in the temple. It had been part of the 'trance'.. yet.. Was it real? or another hallucination?

Regret and pain weighed on her heart. She.. she couldn't have left them.

Angenora felt that going to the Temple of Guidance would help her get over the constant memory of the trials. She noticed that she was being watched by a couple of the clan members after she had noticed that a few priestesses had walked by. She couldn't help, but move towards the scent. It smelled sweet, yet gentle. After smelling the scent for some time she began to feel dizzy and the room began to spin.

"It's good to see you, Lacie. We should catch up properly after this," Aurian smiled at her friend. Her attention quickly turned back to the priestess, who began to answer Aurian's question about 'Trance'.

"Our future...?" Aurian repeated. She was beginning to suspect that Death Clan members took an oath to be as cryptic as possible. Thankfully the priestess continued, they Aurian remained mostly confused. So whatever Trance was, it helped them decide what to do? Or let them know the future somehow?

Aurian opened her mouth to ask more questions - they just kept bubbling up inside her - but was forestalled by a change in the air. In the corner of her eye, the flames in the pyre had changed colour. What she noticed most, though, was the change in incense. No longer was it giving her a headache, instead it soothed the nausea away, sending Aurian into a calmer state.

"Those who serve," Aurian heard the priestess say, "let us seek guidance."

There was movement from the other Clan members in the temple. Aurian was vaguely aware of them joining the main priestess, but the details seemed to slip straight out of her mind. Everyone else was lowering themselves to sit. Aurian followed suit, not sure why, but willing to go with the flow. Even as she settled herself on the floor, her eyes were drifting closed. Aurian blinked, once, twice. A mirror was presented to them. Even as Aurian reached out to touch the smooth surface, her chin dipped and her eyes closed once more.

Red eyes flew open. Aurian was in the middle of a room dark enough to bring a bright glow to her eyes. It was large, she knew, not because of the fact that she couldn't see the corners in the barely-lit gloom, but because she could feel the shadows around her. She knew the precise point where the shadows began, as well as where they met and climbed the walls. Somewhere out of sight to her left, a lit flame hung from the ceiling. It swung in a faint breeze - Aurian could tell all of this just from the shifting shadow it cast. She had never has such power and control. It was heady stuff.

Perhaps that was the reason why Aurian didn't question it when a voice interrupted her perusal of the shadows. "My liege."

"Yes," she answered. There was a thrum of energy behind her voice. No stammer or excited squeal, just a confidence born of experience, maturity and rank. It didn't seem strange to have a figure pledging allegiance to her, or kneeling before her throne, or to be sitting on a throne at all. "What is it?"

The figure bowed low on one knee, clenched fist over his chest. As he straightened, Aurian's attention was drawn to the leather belts crossing his chest above a black outfit. The corners of her lips curved up. Now there was a fashion trend that she could approve of.

Shadows slunk forward into the room, lining up behind the first man. The shadows rose from the floor, solidifying into humanoid figures. Aurian could feel that they weren't all Shadow People like herself - they were a mix of races and breeds (even a demon or two in there, she noted). The only common factor was a shared affinity for shadows. Her red eyes glittered as she stared at them. All of them wore mostly black, a few accent colours here and there, and one or two in dark grays. Leather and belts were popular, with a strong showing of silver jewelry, though the fashions beneath were personal and varied. Aurian was beginning to sense a theme here. Well, they did say that imitation was the most sincere form of flattery.

"We are at your service, my liege. Tell us where to move next."

Here, Aurian faltered. While it was nice to sit in a throne and have people bow before her, she couldn't feel as calm when someone was asking for... orders? Was there a war happening? She couldn't command an army!

... Could she fake it? Aurian took a deep breath. She could try.

"Our greatest threat at the moment?" she prompted her... underling? Second in command? (It seemed he must be something of the sort, even though he gave off the weakest sense of 'shadow' affinity within the room.) If she could get more information without appearing to be clueless, she might be able to get through this without anyone catching on. Leaders liked to test those beneath them, or so she'd heard. She decided to run on a mix of testing and trusting the opinions of those around her. It might keep them on their toes long enough for her ignorance to pass unnoticed.

"The Hunters are amassing in the north. Filthy vermin," the spokesman spat. "Every time we think they've been wiped out, they show up again a few decades later."

Aurian's lips had thinned the moment her minion had uttered the word 'Hunter'. It seemed that was one battle that was never to be over. Her blood crawled at the thought of having to fight them - they were dangerous, and dealt worse than death to the denizens of Halloween Town and the Four Clans.

A female in the front row of gathered followers spoke up. "Our fiery neighbors to the west are weak right now. Ripe for the plucking, really. It might be an opportune time to expand our borders."

Aurian was very careful to keep her face frozen in its impassive expression. Inwardly, she screamed. Was this what she was going to become? Someone who attacked the weak without provocation in the name of more land? She thought she might prefer to take on Hunters than to turn into that kind of person.

"Our borders are natural borders," someone else hissed. "It's not like we can move cliffs and mountains."

"And it's so bright over there. Who'd want to live there?"

The man at Aurian's feet turned to glare at his - Aurian's - troops. "You will, if the Lady tells you to!" he snapped. When he turned back, his face was serene, no trace of his anger at the gossiping underlings on his face.

Aurian stood, forestalling whatever he was going to say. "Walk with me," she told him, suddenly eager to be gone from this throne room with its black marble and dark iron fixtures. Not to mention the small force that was encouraging her to destroy someone else's... country? town? Aurian had no idea what they were even discussing, here.

She aimed left of the throne. The faint breeze that had been toying with the hanging lights meant outdoors. Aurian had a yearning to see just what she'd gotten herself into. They walked in silence - her second in command not willing to speak until she bade him to, it seemed.

It was a far cry from the ghoul who wanted to bake everyone cookies and smother them in hugs. These days (however far it was form Aurian's present) it seemed Aurian waged war and dressed in silky black fabric that caressed her like a lover. She'd never had a problem showing skin, but the outfit that this ruling Aurian wore was designed to intimidate in an entirely new way - Aurian felt like some kind of deadly seductive Black Widow monster rather than a Shadow Person. She could only hope that the trailing skirt and capelet got replaced with something more practical when she took to the battlefield.

Aurian walked under an arching doorway to find herself on a black stone balcony. Contrary to the impression given from inside, it wasn't night. Dusk had fallen, the sun sinking from behind the building (palace, her mind supplied) she had exited. Long shadows were cast on the ground, both on the balcony and on the town below, reaching out desperately for something just beyond their grasp. In the distance, she could see the natural border her followers had mentioned - tall mountains in the distance. Aurian strolled the perimeter of the balcony. In all directions she saw a similar sight - tall cliffs of vertically-rising rock or craggy mountains. No matter the time of day, she realised, no matter the position of the sun, that high border would ensure that the majority of her (smallish) domain lay in shadow. The days themselves would not be that long, sunrise delayed and sunset early due to the natural blockade. And every shadow sang to Aurian. She could sense the width and breadth of her land, and all the things the shadows touched. Perhaps she could begin to understand why wars were fought - having somehow won this, she could not easily give it up.

To distract herself, Aurian waved a graceful hand at her companion. "Tell me your thoughts of that suggestion."

He didn't hesitate. "The idea isn't without merit. They will try to wipe us out the moment they recover from their losses against their other enemies. Better to deal with them once and for all while we hold the advantage."

Aurian considered this. Perhaps it wasn't as cut and dried as she had assumed. Her neighbors didn't sound very peaceful or innocent. Still, it sat wrong with her.

Perhaps he sensed her hesitation. He drew a breath, held it for a moment, then ploughed on. "Forgive me if I overstep my bounds, my liege, but it may be the better option. If we war with the Hunters, our casualties will not be insignificant. And we may return home, wounded, to find that we must fight off another invasion attempt. It... may be worse than the last time."

Hands tightened on the thin stone railing of the balcony. That... did not sound good. And not very neighbourly at all.

"And what would we do with this land, that none of us want to live on?" she found herself asking. Aurian's eyes widened. That wasn't the question she'd meant to ask.

Her companion - surely he must be a general of some kind, the leader of her army; Aurian cursed Jack that no one had mentioned his name in the Throne Room - nodded slowly. At least he recognised that was a problem. "I have no doubt that we could create new garrisons out there. Even a town, if we built walls to block out the Jackdamned amount of sunlight they receive. That would take time to build, but you wouldn't lack for volunteers as long as there was an established rotation period. A break from working there, resting up back here," he clarified.

The strings of her conscience tugged at Aurian, but she couldn't deny that her general spoke sense. She wanted to say no action was required, no fighting Hunters or attacking their neighbours, but she was trying to live up to this role she found herself in. An Aurian who was already some sort of noble or warlord wouldn't hesitate to make these kinds of decisions.

Aurian bowed her head under the weight of the inevitable. "Wipe them out," she gave the order, soft and partially resigned but calmer than she would have believed possible. She sighed and met her general's eyes. "It seems I need to speak with all my generals."

She was taking a risk here. There was usually more than just the main army or fighting force, right? Specialty groups, advisors, intelligence gatherers. She might not have used the right term, but surely he would know what she meant.

He did. Huffing a quiet laugh, he said, "I bet you-know-who is still sleeping. She wasn't the only one worn out last night, but you don't see us skipping out on work. I'll send someone to wake her up and join us."

Aurian watched him walk back towards the archway leading to the Throne Room. Rather than summon one of the other underlings as Aurian expected, his skin... rippled. Rather, the markings on his skin. The ones she'd assumed to be shadows, even though she couldn't feel anything from them, that now lifted away from his skin and formed a familiar shape.

"Go wake her up," the man told his not-quite-a-familiar. "Still in our bedroom, no doubt."

An assenting noise, and the small dragon took flight, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Aurian stared, feet stuck in place. It was- No, it couldn't! How had she not-? But there was a reason he hadn't possessed the strong shadow affinity like the others, but still was her trusted general. Him. And... a sleeping 'her'? That must be... But wait! Aurian's mind whirled. Last night? Worn out? 'Their' bedroom!?

While Aurian's face turned as red as her eyes, the male in question continued to walk back inside. With a struggle, Aurian found her voice. "Wait," she called after the blond figure. "Wait!"

"Wait!" she yelled as her eyes snapped open to find the Temple of Guidance... and everyone else. She flushed, eyes dropping to her lap. "Sorry," she muttered.

Now if she was lucky, people would assume the fierce blush was due to embarrassment over the yell, and not over anything else from the Trance itself.



Word count: 2195 (ASFASDJwordvomit OTL)
+3 Horsemen Points

She looked about the temple again, were there always that many candles in here? It almost seemed like more had been added to the large room and they made some kind of....strange pattern that she just couldn't make out.

Something glinted an odd placed light, but as soon as she looked to where it had come from it had vanished. "Hmmm..." The ghoul looked at all the other students again. Quite prayers reached her ears once more as she focused her attention to the priestesses who were kneeling in front of the various alters.

West wandered into the Temple of Guidance with a smirk on his lips, earning him several glares from the priestesses milling about the area.  He squinted up at the statues flanking the door, trying to determine if they were male or female.  Considering that he hadn't seen that many male clansmen of Death since he had arrived, West decided they were probably ghouls.  He took another look at a nearby priestess, gauging the statues' similarities.  Yeah, female.

It seemed he had walked in on a ceremony of some sort.  West remained wary of the members of this clan to the point of feeling little more than mindless anger toward them and their stupid incense, so when a thick cloud of it swirled around him, he scowled and crossed his arms.  He was not going to si—

Okay, fine, he supposed he was going to sit.  The room around him was going fuzzy all of a sudden, the faces of the students and horsemen gathered there nothing but fleshy blobs that quickly faded to monochromatic ones.  He almost fell to the floor as he tried to take a seat, and he barely felt his hip smack the ground as he did so.  There was something in front of him... a mirror?  He'd had enough of mirrors if he was being honest, and there was no reason not to be truthful when he was the only one to hear it.  West reached out a hand, not sure if he meant to touch the thing or punch it.  When his fingers made contact with the milky glass, he felt his stomach lurch.  He was on his feet again, and all around him color was slowly returning to the world.

At first he thought he was back at home, so similar were the deep red couches and marble floors to the ones in his father's house.  But that throne... Duran Warrick wasn't quite tacky enough to require a throne in his...

Where had it gone?  West distinctly recalled seeing a throne, right there, behind him.  He blinked.  Everything shifted again.

His attention was drawn to the impossibly black sleeve of the coat he wore as the fabric materialized around his arm.  From afar it might have seemed like one smooth cuff, but he was close enough to see the series of tiny metal points sewn into the hem.  They jutted toward his hand, and when he bent his wrist too far in either direction he felt a row of tiny pinches against his skin.  It was fitting.

Upon further inspection, he also noticed that the entirety of his sleeve was decorated with a faint pattern that became clearer as he moved.  It was familiar.  It was... his mark, repeated over and over, the runes so tightly packed that he almost didn't recognize it.  Almost.  West had only ever seen his mark once before, but he would never forget it.

His gaze finally moved beyond his clothing—his coat, the rich burgundy slacks tucked into black leather boots he wouldn't normally be caught dead in, his scepter—and latched onto the throne he sat upon.  Oh.  That's where it had run off to.  It was silver, comfortable and cushioned almost to excess, in contrast to his bitey sleeves.  To his left, he thought he saw an equally ornate chair piled high with autumn-colored pillows, but when he looked at it directly, it was gone.

"My liege?"

"Hmm?"

West looked down at the reaper kneeling at his feet.  When had she shown up?  He sat up tall, trying to seem more impressive than his confusion allowed him to feel, as more figures materialized around him.  They looked expectant, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what they might have wanted from him, or why these armed men and women were calling him liege.

"We are at your service, my liege. Tell us where to move next."

Move?  "I, um..."  There was a flash of memory.  The sword on this woman's back cleaving into a human back, blood spurting onto her face and into her mouth as she laughed.

"Against the hunters.  Under your guidance we have kept them from scaling the walls.  Fewer than fifty remain, and all of our people are unhurt."  She sounded mildly exasperated, as if she couldn't believe she was relaying such obvious information.

He stood.  "You will not move," West said, his voice clear as it carried to the corners of the hall.  He was in charge here.  He was their king.  These were his lands, and hunters were not welcome.  "You will follow.  Me."  He was unafraid.  West would lead them into battle.  He caught sight of the second throne again and shook his head as it disappeared.

"She fights," the reaper said with a smile.  "She has been waiting for you on the wall."

West nodded and grinned as he hopped off of the dais.  "She always was quicker than me."

836 words
3 horseman points