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History of Exiles: Chapter One

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Devath
Crew

Offline

Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 9:44 pm

Here lie the records of the past, from the year of Birth. These records are open to reading, but are not necessary, by any manner or means, to the advancement of ye mortals. Read as ye will.

Among us, there are those who wish to add to what is currently written. for their ease and mine, I place a number of things here.

Color Codes:
All Dead Characters =
Craftsman/Librarian =
Ember =
Amelia = None
Toucan =
Nyx =
Zephyr =
Shizuka =
Jikrae =
Ave =
Roet =
Dessande' =
Dunaldra =
Mythee =
Modest =
Hino-Kagu =
Epoch =

General procedure for spacing is two blank lines between each post.
The headers for each pages of history should correspond to the page from which the posts came in the original thread, meaning the page number minus one, as the first page is fully reserved. Size code is .
All ending codes are [/"type"].

Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 9:52 pm

History of the Exiles Page One

The librarian's eight hands worked furiously over piles of open books bound in fresh leather. His grotesque pale skin, covered in oozing sores, reflected the green and gold light that streamed in from the brand new window at the top of the immense tower. Rows of books, most of which lacked any titles on their spines, lined the shelves in an infinite and practically indistinguishable mass. The blind, milky eyes of the librarian stared wetly into space like pale moons as the hands traced their fingers over the blank pages, the bare fingers seemed to burn the paper with fine black lettering.

There was a resounding groan, and the librarian halted his work. His mouth gaped slightly. His fat purple tongue slid out of the lipless slit of a mouth, a loud wheezing sound followed behind it. The eyes blinked once, staring in the direction of the great ebony doors that were slowly being forced open. There was first only a narrow slit of white light streaming through. It expanded and soon the desert sun was illuminating the room. The librarian held up three of it's long, spindly arms, hissing in protest.

"Craftsman, Please. Close that." The voice was a thundering baritone. It was closer to a deep throated rumble than any real form of speech. The words came out slowly, and airily. Like his breath. "You know what the sun does to me."

The figure who had entered stood straight on the gold and green carpet, not moving. The silhouette that presented itself was tall and narrow like a pillar of stone. The only indication of anything different came from underneath the wide brimmed hat that it wore, where the wispy threads of hair were illuminated in silver by the desert sun. The figure stood motionless for a time, finally nodded in assent and the doors slammed shut on their own.

"Librarian, what are you doing here? What is there to write about? This entire world is brand new." The voice of the craftsman wasn't quite so deep as the Librarians. It was cold and authoritative, but it was a human voice and made all the more friendly in contrast to the bloated many-legged tick that sat surrounded by its circular desk.

"Hssssh!" The Librarian hissed. "There are other worlds than these, Craftsman! This place may be your work and you may have managed to force me to come here-"

"I coerced you into coming here." The Craftsman started.

"You destroyed my last library!" The Librarian roared, his many chins quivered in rage and his tongue flailed wildly for a few moments before he composed himself. "I am the keeper of all knowledge. You can't bully me anymore. I may be set here against my will but that will not stop me from realizing my purpose."

"What you're writing is dangerous, Librarian. I would not see another judgment fall upon the ones who will be coming here." The Craftsman spat.

The Librarian chuckled for a moment, a deep and unpleasant sound that transformed into fierce coughing. "If these are the same group of upstarts from the first time then I doubt any of them will find any use for things as trivial as books. They, like all whelps, never displayed much of a thirst for knowledge. You have nothing to fear from these books."

The Craftsman stood silent for a few moments, then seemed to deflate slightly before saying again. "I didn't come here to tell you to stop. I just want to make sure that you know the risks you are taking simply to have a complete collection."

"The quest for perfection should be one that you understand very well, Craftsman." The Librarian said even as his hands resumed their work.

"I understand." The Craftsman said soberly, "Just know that if you betray me then I will make sure that you never write another word." With that the tall silhouette turned to leave, the doors flew open once again and walked out the door. "The exiles are coming or they are already here! Everything starts today!"

The Librarian sat silently for a few moments until the doors closed behind the retreating Craftsman.

"You are not the highest power here, Craftsman." The librarian muttered, and resumed his work in earnest.

Roet pushed through some of the lower bushes and looked around. There wasn't much of anything anywhere...yet. He started walking across the barren wastelands in a general North direction. For some reason, Roet knew he had to get to the top of the tallest mountain, he just didn't know why. It just felt...right.

Then something happened that he didn't expect in the slightest. Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, a great redstone tower appeared. Roet blinked, then realized he had been walking across the desert for over an hour. He decided to go into the tower...something about it felt familiar...

Then Roet saw the craftsmen. He instantly knew who the old man was. As he was walking towards the main door, it opened and the Craftsman had walked out. Roet rushed forward, "Greetings, great Craftsman." Roet said quietly, standing before the Craftsman...

What was this? What was this feeling? It felt so strange and yet, although she could feel it, she couldn’t describe it at all. At first she had heard a voice calling, or at least a voice ringing in her head, the next moment she knew, she started to feel. She felt this pounding and followed by that, she heard the pounding as well as feeling it. It felt painful at first, but she slowly got used to it.

Besides the feeling, the darkness she had once been encased in started to break apart and she started to see things. She opened her eyes and looked around. It was bright, blinding even, but soon her eyes adjusted to it. She glanced around and started to understand where she was, although she had no memory of it. Perhaps she was supposed to know where this was?

It didn’t really matter if she was supposed to know or not. She was taking in the scenery, although there was nothing really of it, just a barren landscape. For some reason she was happy to see it, but yet sad. She wished there would be much nicer things then just this. She decided that if she could do anything, she’d definitely make this land much nicer.

She was sitting down on the ground, feeling nothing but her heartbeat and she started to move her fingers and noticed that the dirt had a much different feeling than to her heartbeat. Perhaps other things would have different feelings as well, or not. She hoped they did.

She decided that she must go somewhere else. Maybe there were other people on this planet, living in this barren wasteland with nothing as well. Maybe they had just woken up and noticed they were here and wondered the same things as her. She jumped up although she went up a little too fast and reached out for something to grab onto, although there was nothing. She fell back down and landed with a thump. “Oww….” She mumbled. Then she noticed, she could speak as well as hear what was around her. She smiled, every moment something new was being discovered.

She decided to get up slower this time and she did, although it felt a little awkward. She had never walked before and she was a little nervous when it came to it. She slowly took a step in front of her and noticed that it was much easier than she had thought. Although she wondered, how did she know this was ‘walking’ and how did she know how to do it? She sighed and shook her head. She could figure that out later, right now she had to discover more about this.

She took more steps forwards until she felt as though she was comfortable. I wonder if I can go faster than this? She started to take larger steps until they were more like strides. Then her arms went straight and to her side, her fingers pointing behind her to where she had come from. She smiled happily as she ran. She wondered if this, the air going across her face, was what the wind the felt like. This time she didn’t bother to wonder how she knew that, she just enjoyed this new sensation.

Anyone watching would see a green blur dashing across the barren landscape, about the only thing in miles around. As well, this green blur would be laughing and smiling as if this was the greatest joy in the entire universe. If anyone looked closer at the green blur, they would spot a tall, pale young girl with pointed ears and somewhat long arms and legs. This girl would have long green hair, flowing after her as she ran as well as deep emerald eyes.

Her attire would be just as strange as her. A green silk dress with a gold-like trim as well as designs in gold over the bottom half of the dress. Up the right side of the dress, a slit would be cut up to her thigh and there would be no sleeves. Besides the dress that would stop near her ankles, her feet would be wrapped in gold colored ribbons with an opening on either foot for her toes to stick out of.

As she ran, she started to feel as though there was someone else around, although she wasn’t too sure of whom. She knew that there was someone around, she just didn’t know how. She looked around as she ran and noticed the landscape had changed slightly, if that was even possible. Now there was sand under her feet and it was hot. It wasn’t extremely hot, but more like warm. She was glad she was running because if not, it would be much hotter. As well, the sun had gotten brighter. She followed her sense that told her that someone else was here.

She came upon a massive stone tower, perhaps made of red stone. She came up as slow as she could. She didn’t want to crash into the tower. It was the first thing she had seen in this world that meant someone else was here.

When she was at least a mile or so away, she had started to slow down, once she came to half a mile, she stopped and looked ahead. I guess I need to work on slowing down. She thought as she walked towards the tower. From here she could now see two people at the door, seeming to talk to each other. She had only sensed one but, since she just discovered she could sense others, she was inexperienced.

She came up to them, starring at the tower and then to the people. They looked strange but somewhat familiar. There was a man, slightly taller than her and another one, only he was much shorter. She looked to them both first to the man who seemed like he was made of metal, yet not and then to the other in armour. It was then that she noticed the hot sand that bit at her toes. The rest of her feet were protected but her toes were not. It felt like they were burning but, for some reason, she knew that they weren’t. She tried to ignore it as she suddenly came with the name of the taller man.

His name is ‘Craftsman’. She blinked, suddenly knowing who she was. And I’m… Amelia.

Only moments after arriving at the libarary, Roet heard a slight rustling behind him and turned around only to see a great cloud of dust. he looked closer and saw a woman running at a great speed towards himself and the Craftsman. As the woman came to a stop, Roet could tell she could feel something uncomfortable on her feet, but he couldn't see anything. He looked at her, his mouth hanging open, for a few seconds before realizing the vacant expression on his face then changing it.

Then he looked into Amelia's eyes. She seemed familiar, but Roet couldn't say why. He squinted and looked closer trying to remember, but it never came to him. He shrugged it off and stepped towards the stranger. He held out his right and and spoke in as modest a tone as he could muster, "Greetings, I'm Roet'tain Warvesi Und-em. Who are you?"

She starred at the man, it seemed as though he was wondering the same thing, how did they know each other? She noticed his mouth was open and then he shut it quickly. I wonder why he was so shocked? She pushed that thought away as he looked into her eyes. She felt a little uncomfortable being starred at like that she squirmed a little before looked down at his right hand. Following that he had said his name.

Roet'tain Warvesi Und-em? That's a long name. She thought as she looked back up to his face. Only a moment later she realized that he had asked her name. "Oh... umm... nice to meet you. I'm Amelia." She looked towards the Craftsman for a moment, then to the library and back to his hand. She guessed he wanted her to shake it with her own hand. Some form of greeting? She wondered as she shook it with her right hand.

She blinked and suddenly wondered if he had landed here just as she had. She looked at him in his eyes, not feeling squirmish anymore. "Did you wake up here as well?" She asked slowly.

He stepped across the sand, almost gliding over it. Ah the desert, by far his most favourite of places to be. Nothing to get in his way, the sun beating down, and all that light. It was as if he could feel everything for miles around, being one with everything. But since he could take steps, there has been unrest. Something somewhere was creating a path which light could not walk across, a small space of land which he could not see or feel. A shadow. And a shadow must therefore mean people. People in his new-found haven. And if not people then some other creature was standing... no... Desecrating this paradise which should rightly be his. Why shouldn't it be his? After all, he's the one who can feel so much life in this place, why should it not be his and his alone?

But wait, there was something else. A vast absence of his pressence dwelled here too where there was no light at all and that was casting a shadow too. The creatures be damned, this new structure was his goal. He must find it and the one responsible for building. It shouldn't be too hard, all he has to do is move to a place where he feels most empty.

He shook his head in mild irritation as he left the library behind him, his footsteps echoed heavily on the stone steps and he turned once more to peer up at the fresh stone of the new library. He grunted softly behind his silvery beard.

In the sunlight one could see the massive silver braid that flowed down his chest, garbed simply in a brown coat and pleated with iron rings. There was a matching braid going down his back, as well. His eyes were flat and metal, totally emotionless if not for the movement of the wrinkled skin around them. He made a deep-throated rumbling noise in his throat and stepped onto the soft white sand around the library.

He knew that Roet was there even before he heard the man's greeting to him. "I appreciate the sentiment, Roet, but it's wholly unnecessary." He said as he dusted himself off. "And Amelia, it's nice to see you. I see you've awakened somewhat more recently than Roet here." He favored her with a warm smile then he turned to the both of them with somewhat of a frown on his face.

"I am concerned, though. Why are you here at the planet's southernmost point when there are twelve stone gardens scattered about the area. One's not too far from here, but the others are leagues away." He looked at the two of them. "You've both got so much work to be doing right now and Roet, if you're already so aware of everything already then I suggest you move." He said serenely. He turned to Amelia.

"You, however, still might need some guidance. I have to ask you, Amelia, can you feel them? Those poor babes standing confused in their enclosures?" He asked Amelia personally. Then he addressed them both again. "You probably hear the three laws echoing in the back of your minds as we speak, no? Well then you know that those people are the source of your power. The more they flourish, the more your powers will grow. He eyed the two of them.

"I can't lead you there, I have others to attend to right now."

With that, he started trudging away, calling over his shoulder. "I will be back soon, with answers!"

Amelia looked to the Craftsman who had seemed to join the conversation. His smile at Amelia made her feel welcome although the next few words he spoke was rather perplexing. Stone gardens? She wondered as she looked to Roet and back to the Craftsman.

She listened to the words he spoke and tried to feel what he was talking about. She closed her eyes and tried to get the same feeling she had when she had sensed Roet. She smiled and nodded, opening her eyes, "Yeah! I can"

Then he spoke about them going to help the confused babes. The more I help them, the more my powers grow? She wondered what her powers would be like. Could she make this barren land beautiful? She smiled at the thought of a wonderful green world. She snapped out of her thoughts for a moment and looked back to the Craftsman as he left.

She sighed and looked back to Roet, taking her hand away from him. "You mind filling me in?" She asked. She had only awoken a little while ago and slowly was getting introduced to the world. As soon as she got the main idea, she would head out. It seemed as though Roet knew what to do and she hoped he could fill her in. She wanted to find these people and help them, although she hardly knew how.

The craftsman overheard her talking to Roet and frowned slightly. He didn't want another exile telling her untruths and misinterpretations. He crooked his long index finger, and the two of them were pulled towards him slightly as he continued walking, this time with them in stride.

"Apparently I was hasty in my desire to search for the others. I will lead you both to the nearest stone garden, though I encourage you to separate each other when you find one." His steps were slow and deliberate, and yet when he walked the ground seemed to shoot past rapidly. Whenever he lifted his foot again the world would blur in and out, solidifying only when he set his foot down.

"These people will look up to you and worship you. Help them and gain their trust, eventually they, like everything else, will become a civilization that acts much on its own." He said with a smile. "I happen to know that neither one of you knows what your true purpose is, and so I give you this: You are supposed to make this world grow and flourish. Consider this a test. Albeit you have a very long time to complete it. That should not hinder your sense of urgency."

The ground looked different now. Rather than Sand the ground was caked mud. Hard and brittle underfoot. Up ahead there was a wall of stone. The Craftsman pointed to the wall. "There it is." He grabbed the two of them and kept walking, one more step and they were all three inside the garden.

The inside of the garden was vastly different from the outside. The ground was covered in lush grass, and there were varying plants and animals strewn somewhat randomly about the circular garden. In the middle there was a small pool of crystal clear water that sat tepidly in the center.

The most impressive thing, however, was the throng of nude humans that milled lazily around the area. Most of them had a glazed or bored look in their eyes. There was an audible gasp as they materialized in their midst.

"This is your starting point." He said soberly to the two of them. "I don't want to see you wasting any more time near the library." His tone darkened slightly as he said that. "Teach them. You have basic knowledge that will be useful to these people. And you will be surprised by what they can achieve on their own."

There was a deep rumbling behind the trio, when they turned the stone wall was burying itself underground. It sank slowly beneath the cracked mud of the outside earth and disappeared.

"They are no longer protected. They're your responsibility now. Keep in mind there are eleven more like this, and they all need guidance too. Although I hardly expect you to try and take on more than one." He smiled.

"This is where I truly have to leave you. There are others to deal with."

And he was gone.

Dark, it was dark all around. Punching out, he hit nothing, stumbling about in nowhere in specific. Thoughts came in garbled jumbles, incoherent babble in a mind that didn’t fully exist yet. It was not cold, not hot, not anywhere in between. It held no air yet he did not suffocate. This place, this limbo of existence and non-existence, was nauseating in it’s strangeness. As he stumbled about on legs that he wasn’t sure fully existed, the thing that would be named Ember struggled against the black.

But within a time that he couldn’t define, for there were no seconds or minutes or hours in this place, everything came to him. His thoughts formed, he became a living being and felt for the first time. The black place was cold, chilly even. He shivered with it, feeling naked and vulnerable to the unknown. He found himself hating this place, hating it bitterly. He wished to be free of it, he felt imprisoned in it’s icy grip and wished it to be gone forever.
Suddenly, in a brilliant flash of red, orange, and yellow the icy grip disappeared and was replaced by another. It’s grip was searing, it caused the flesh he didn’t know he had to bubble and blister and burn. He wished to scream from the pain, but no scream issued forth. All that he could see was fire, raging bonfires overlapping one another, he felt that he would melt or turn to ash yet something wouldn’t allow him. As his body blackened to ash, he died to the pain of it.

Ember was born, still forever burning from his creation, into the desert in which all other exiles had. He sensed the heat rather than felt it, understanding at once the immense heat of the sun beaming down upon him. Ember felt that he hated the sand beneath his feet, yet he loved it’s heat. On second thought, the sand was fine and not to be hated, it was the air about him. The wind blew upon him, snapping his flames about him most annoyingly. He hated the wind, wished it to be unmade forever. His true enemy, that’s what the wind was.
Actually, the wind wasn’t bad. It’s whipping of the flames made him feel good, alive, powerful, he liked the wind fine. Yes, the wind was an ally of his, he would cease to hate the wind for now. Perhaps it was…

Ember stalked across the desert, heading forward with the sun at his back, while going through confusing cycles of hating and disliking everything around him. A tower loomed before him in the distance and he subsequently hated it, then decided that he liked it’s color and height. In fact, he found he liked it very much. With little thought as to why, he made his way to it, walking heavily with his black arms hanging by his side and his powerful black legs walking along mechanically.

He came close to the tower, perhaps a dozen feet from being able to touch it. He saw that it cast a shadow, and he truly hated the shadow. Strangely, that hate did not dissipate but kept strong. He disliked shadows, and then realized he himself cast one. Obviously not being able to hate himself or the tower, the two things that cast the shadows, he broke off his feud with the dastardly shadows and walked closer to the tower itself, admiringly touching it at it’s base. In that moment, for the first time, he ceased to hate anything for a few seconds.

Amelia was startled when the Craftsman had made them follow him. She wasn't too sure to make of it. They were traveling, quickly and she had no sense of where she was now. She looked this way and that as they traveled and listened to his words. My purpose... is to help them... and have them grow. She starred at the stone wall. It opened up and they went inside.

It was strange. Inside it looked beautiful compared to outside. The people inside seemed to act as if they had no will of their own. Amelia starred at them rather shocked. Then the stone wall started to sink into the ground and she starred as the Craftsman disappeared.

She looked to Roet and wondered, who should get this land? She walked over to the place where the barren land met the green of the once-sanctuary. She placed her hand on the earth and picked up some of the dirt. For some reason, she just knew to do it.

The earth was warm, yet cold at the same time. It was hard for her to understand it but it seemed as though this area got plenty of moisture. Although, somehow it just didn't seem right.

She turned back to Roet and stood up, heading back over to him. "I think you should have this place." She looked down to the dirt in her hand, "It just doesn't feel right to me." She looked back up to him, "You don't mind, do you?" She asked, smiling.

He could suddenly feel more again. Something had left this desert and gone.. nowhere. Good. Now they weren't there to trouble him. But that structure still remained, it's shadow and presence becoming a scar on this land. Maybe that will go away soon too. If that's the case, all will be good again. Don't you understand? It is a void in that place. It holds answers to the question of who the beings were before. To get there is of great importance before it disappears! He had to hurry there. Running wasn't helping, the sand simply slips and slides from under his feet and he gains no real ground. And yet, he started to run faster and faster. He was still going nowhere but he forced himself to become faster still. The sand was becoming softer, this was all pointless. He looked down in some form of attempt to find some decent footing... but his feet weren't moving. His feet weren't even there. But he could feel them moving, they WERE there. He pushed himself to be faster and faster when all of a sudden it was like everything was before. He felt pure, clean and connected to everything there could be. He had become a beam of light. Yet still in this pure state, the abomination still left a hole within him. He pressed onwards to find the abomination and, surely enough, he arrived at the destination in a short span of time.

Roet stumbled slightly as the Craftsman had them go with him; he had not been expecting it to say the least. He watched the world blur slightly, then focus, then blur, then focus, and quickly realized that every time he Craftsman pt his foot down, it focused. please, keep your foot down! Roet wanted to shout, but he held back.

When they finally stopped, Roet balanced, then looked around. everything was moving, yet Roet was staying still. he blinked a few times, then heard the Craftsman's voice and turned his attention in that direction. "-Basic knowledge that will be useful to these people. And you will be surprised by what they can achieve on their own." Roet heard the words, then thought for a few moments.

Suddenly the Craftsman was gone, and he was alone, except for the few humans, with Amelia. When Amelia spoek to him, he hardly noticed. "uh... yeah... sure... I'll take this sanctuary until they're... uh... civilized... then I'll go someplace else.... yeah..." he nodded to her and stepped forward.

As he stepped forward, one of the humans, a younger one, looking about 10 years old, stepped forward and spoke in a very broken, incomplete, English, "Is...you h...urt us?" He had a tear in his eyes and it appeared as though some of the other creatures in the once-sanctuary. Roet smiled reassuringly, "No, no, I'm not here to hurt you." The boy looked startled that he could speak so quickly and actually get the words out. He raised and eyebrow slightly, "Ho...w y...ou do... th...at?" Roet cocked his head, "it appears as though you need much more teaching than I had thought... interesting..." The young boy looked at him, "What?" Roet leaned in closer, "I think," he started slowly, "That you all need to learn more than I thought before." he paused, now trying to identify a leader in the group. there was none.

Stepping back, Roet Looked arouns the surrounding area, then turned back quickly to Amelia and spoke in a soft voice, "d'you know anywhere I could find some clothes for these people? or maybe I should teach them how to make clothes...yeah..." he turned back to the animals in the once-sanctuary and looked arouns until he saw a young lamb with an older sheep next to it. Both needed trimming. "okay...good, good..." he turned back to Amelia, "never mind." He smiled at her, trying to be reassuring, then turned back to the people...

Amelia starred at Roet as he said that he would take this place. She guessed he hadn't been listening at all. With sigh she watched him a little longer until he decided upon a way to help them.

Although Amelia was nodding to whatever Roet said, she was starring at the humans. For some reason they seemed to intrigue her and she smiled when one looked to her. "Well then," She looked around, sensing for another one of the sanctuaries, "I'll be leaving then, good luck." She gave a short nod to his back and walked off.

When she came to a point where she was far enough from the sanctuary, she dashed off to a more northern area. She didn't want to scare the people of Roet's sanctuary with how much different she really was from then. She had hoped the distance she ran off from was okay. The only thing left, was a large dust cloud from where she had once been.

She had felt the same joy as before when she ran, but she wasn't smiling or enjoying herself as much as before. This time, her face was plain with hardly any emotion showing. She wanted to get northwards as fast as she could. She wanted to help the people and she wanted to find the perfect place for her people to grow. She had no idea how she could tell, but she just knew.

She had come northwards quite alot. The barren land still there yet it seemed so familiar. She shook her had and came to the large stone wall. She could open it when she wanted to , but she didn't just yet. Amelia bent down to the earth and picked up some dirt again. This dirt was much colder compared to before yet not a moist.

She played with the dirt a little until she smiled. Although it was not as moist, it seemed as though it would be perfect for what she wanted. The dirt was filled with nutrients. There wasn't much moisture because this area was warmer air wise than the other air. With a sigh, she stood up and looked to the gate. With a smile she dropped the dirt and pressed her hand up against the wall and she went inside the sanctuary.

It appeared as though the other sanctuary; there was grass, plants, animals, water and humans. She smiled to them all as the wall fell down into the earth. Something about having them all stare at her made her happy. Yet she knew she was in control of them. She had to protect them.

They all stared at her and she felt a little overwhelmed as a few of them came up to her. She smiled sheepishly and waved, "Hello there." She stated as they all started to look afraid. She blinked and shook her head, "I'm not going to hurt you." She looked around as they started to back off and she sighed. This is going to be harder than I thought. She glanced around again and decided it would be better for them to approach her than her to them.

Devath
Crew

Offline

Devath
Crew

Offline

Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 10:12 pm

History of the Exiles Page Two

"Ah, it seems that I'm always coming back this forsaken desert. Your fascination with this place is appreciated, but it's a bit early for you to be looking at books, don't you think?"

He was perched casually on a rock that stood overlooking a bare patch of desert right behind Ember and the tower. "Ember, it's good to see you made it here alive and well. You've always been an intriguing character, this test might be especially trying for you." The Craftsman said in his deep voice as he idly ran his spindly fingers over his long braided beard.

He surveyed the strange figure. "You've chosen an interesting form, Ember." He said with a wry grin. The grin was shown only by the slightest twitch of his heavy mustache. His blank silver eyes gleamed underneath the desert sun. He surveyed the ashen form that stood in front of him. He could feel the conflicted feelings of wrath emanating from him much like flames that danced over his charred flesh.

His smile widened. "I shall be very interested to see what kind of people you raise under your violent wing, ember. Your people could be strong and passionate people. They could grow to conquer this whole land. And a war would prove especially beneficial for someone with your particular talents. However your people are not here. There are ten gardens now devoid of leadership. The closest one is two thousand miles northwest of here."

Jikrae'neindir felt nothing for what would have seemed an eternity if he could have comprehended it. In an instant, emotions and thoughts seemed to rush into his mind, though he was not immediately thrust into physical existence. For a very long time, he was merely suspended, without physical form, thinking. He didn't know very many things think about, since there was nothing around him, so he replicated memories.

Surreal landscapes flashed through his mind, and he was walking in them, an unimportant being merely striding around millions of other beings exactly like him. He didn't understand individuality, and so there were no names; not even his name, which he didn't know yet. The creatures were never the same in any two of those 'dreams.' Sometimes he was a monster, and others cultured sentient being, a common worker or, in his favorite dreams, he was a powerful leader, commanding hordes of subjects.

He was in transition between two of those dreams when suddenly he felt himself falling. He didn't know what to call this new sensation, as he had never truly 'felt' anything in the metaphysical life he had known. He had been self-aware, but he had been without a corporeal form until now.

Then he felt pain, caused by hitting the sand of the desert. He had not fallen very far, but having never felt any emotion before, the pain seemed excruciating. Something cold was pressing against his entire body, and he was lying face-down in the sand, unable to breathe. He didn't understand it, but most of the pain that he was feeling was coming from his oxygen-parched lungs practically screaming for air.

In an effort to extricate himself from the burning sand of the desert floor, he rolled over, and his mind automatically inhaled an incredible amount of air. The pain immediately subsided, and Jikrae, who somehow knew his name and understood many new ideas, sighed in relief. He lifted his head, still unable to move many of his limbs, and attempted to look at his surroundings.

For as far around as he could see, there were very few things. Mostly, the landscape was barren and desolate, exactly the same as the ground Jikrae was laying in. But in the distance there was a large blot, like a massive rock thrust deep into the sand. It seemed to have a brown tinge to its color, but Jikrae couldn't be sure, since his head fell back to the ground as soon as he relaxed his neck.

It took him nearly three hours to learn to move his arms and legs with enough efficiency to stand up, and even then he fell down several times before he finally stood straight. Rather than look at the landscape, he turned his eyes to examine himself. He looked exactly the same way that he had in his most recent dream, in which he had been a great ruler who commanded an entire horde of subjects and soldiers.

Even though he couldn't see his face, he was aware of what it looked like because he had seen it in that dream. His skin, hardly visible behind a violet cloth mask that covered his mouth and nose and the dark purple hair that fell to the bottom of his forehead, was a dark gray color, akin to that of the strange shape he saw in the distance. Crimson lightning erupted randomly from his eyes, shooting several inches in every direction, and even though it was a harmless feature, Jikrae remembered from his dream that it seemed to inspire fear in his enemies. Two slightly-curved horns, colored pitch-black with dark purple tips, sprouted from his forehead, while two more like them grew from the back of his head.

The cold he had felt against his skin had come from his metallic armor, which had not yet had the chance to absorb the rays of the blazing Sun. Even now, it was just as cool as it had been to begin with, which Jikrae enjoyed quite a bit more than the searing heat beating down on his exposed neck. The armor consisted of a cuirass and greaves, both arranged in overlapping plates across his chest, back, upper arms, and upper legs. The armor was darkly-colored, and shared the same purple hue as his hair. A brilliant amethyst jewel adorned the center of his chestplate, bordered by a bright green rim and embedded into his ribcage.

On the top of his shoulders, a single green spike was growing from the armor, thin and brittle-looking, and tall enough to meet up with the top of the horns growing from his head. When the armor on his arms ended at his elbow, they were met by leather gauntlets tightened with shortened belts three times, once at the top, once at the wrist, and once more in between those two. From each belt a spike appeared on the top of his arms, not quite as harmless as the rest of his outfit. The one at the top of his gauntlet was short, but they grew larger until the spike on the back of his wrist, which was almost four inches long and easily capable of horribly maiming or killing anyone struck by it.

He wore a viridian-colored belt around his waist, buckled together by an amethyst quite similar to the one on his chest, though it wasn't connected to his body like the jewel on his cuirass.

His leggings ended at his knees where, akin to the gauntlets, they were met by leather boots, each one rimmed at the top with small spikes. The spikes on his boots were harmless, though as with the rest of his costume, they were quite intimidating. The color at the top of his boots was the same green color as his belt, though it blended into the color of the rest of his armor until it reached the tip, which was such a dark violet color that it seemed almost black.

A green cape was looped around his throat, the back of it adorned with thick purple lines, interconnecting and twisting. It seemed almost like several small pictures which blended into one large picture whenever you tried to concentrate on. Jikrae held the tough fabric of his cape in his hands, and stared at the design on it, a perplexed look pasted on his face. He knew that the shapes meant something, but he couldn't remember what it was.

He let the cape fall from his hands, and it swished back behind his back, millimeters away from scraping against the sand. Without anyone to compare himself to, Jikrae had no idea that he was extremely short, standing an inch under five feet tall. His arms and legs, though slightly bulky, were also not tremendously powerful, though they were certainly not weak.

He didn't know where to go, but he was inexplicably drawn to the large block still standing in the distance. He took a single awkward step with his short legs, and immediately judged the distance to the block. He didn't know how, but he understood that, if he took steps exactly like that, he would reach the shape in 8,764 steps. He took another few steps, and it dawned on him that it would take quite a long time to reach his destination at that rate. So he took faster, longer steps, his arms moving back and forth with his legs.

The number became 2,765 steps. He had never used numbers or measurements in his dreams, and had never heard of 'time,' either. Yet, somehow, these ideas came easily to him. Charging at a rate of nearly 500 steps per minute, his mind instantly calculated that he would reach the shape in just over five-and-a-half minutes. Considering this acceptable, he kept the pace easily, not running fast enough for exhaustion to overtake him in time to slow him down.

What did slow him down, however, was the wall lowering itself into the desert sand and disappearing, revealing a large plot of green space where it had once been. He saw many shapes moving about, all of them unlike him, which was infinitely different than the images he was used to.

There was one, however, that stood out among them. It was Roet'tain, though Jikrae did not yet know his name. He wore armor that had a similar design to Jikrae's, but, at a distance, didn't seem to have the same color. Slowing down to his original, walking pace, he strode up to Roet, who he discovered was just barely taller than he was. He understood two languages now; the one he had spoken in his dreams, and another which he had appeared in his mind just as he had materialized. Without knowledge of who he was, or where he was, he decided to speak in the language he had just recently learned, assuming that he had learned it so that he could speak in this new, strange world.

"What is this place, creature?"

In truth, Jikrae was trying his best to be polite, and would have referred to Roet as 'friend' and not 'creature' if he had understood that it was he who was different than the rest of the beings on this world, not the other way around.

"Is there a reason I am here, or do you know?"

Roet watched Amelia run off, then turned back to his people. "Alright... first off, we need clothing for you..." He walked towards the two sheep and looked at the older one. Its woolen coat was much more matted down than the younger one's. he looked over at the animals, then turned back to the humans, "from now on, if any animal is dead, we will use everything from the carcass that we can." one of the humans, a bolder looking female, stepped forward, "What is 'carcass'?" Roet sighed, "the remains... whatever is left after an animal has passed on to the afterlife." The woman nodded, then stepped back.

Roet suddenly realized that no one had names, as far as he knew, "Okay, before we get started, what do you call each other. What are your names?" the all looked at each other and spoke under their breath's. finally, after several minutes of waiting on Roet's part, one older man stepped forward, "We have... no "names" as you speak. We know only that we can call each other by their sight." Roet looked at him oddly for a second, then realized that by 'sight' he meant 'appearance'. "Oh... well, I'll need to give you all names then. A name is like....what you call someone instead of by their sight. I think that you," he pointed to the young boy he had spoken to earlier, "shall be called... Telesforos, or Teles." the boy nodded , trying to repeat his new name, "Tele...s...for...foros...teles...foros...telesforos...Oh! I get it! Telesforos!" Roet smiled and nodded enthusiastically, "okay then, you," he pointed to the woman from earlier, "can be... Coronis... yeah that'll work..." The woman nodded, "Coronis...I like it..."

Roet turned back to the old man, "You, I think, will be called Apollo." the man nodded, "And where does this 'name' come from?" Roet thought for a second, "I...I don't remember..." he looked off into the distant sun, taking in the heat, "I don't even know if I ever did remember it..." Apollo shrugged and lead Coronis and Telesforos away, where they started talking in their slow, broken up English.

Roet turned to the remaining people, "okay...you, you, and you." he pointed to three young girls, "your names will be... Hygieia, Meditrine, and Panacea. Your name," he pointed to a teenage boy, "will be Chiron." the boy smiled and walked off with Panacea. finally, Roet turned to the last four people. all adults, three were male and one was female, "your names will be..." he directed his attention to the men, "Asclepius, Karykeion, and Polidarius." he looked at the last woman, "Your name shall be Iaso."

He stepped away from them for a few minutes while they all spoke, getting used to their new names. He sat on the brass, cross-legged, and closed his eyes. Suddenly he felt a jerk and lurched forward, once again awake. he turned around, only to see young Meditrine poking his back, "what d'you need?" he said blearily. Meditrine spoke in a small voice, "uh... what... is... your... name...?" Roet smiled, glad that someone had asked, "My name, is Roet'tain Warve- actually, just call me Roet." Meditrine smiled and walked away, apparently please with herself...

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

Several hours later, Roet was sitting on the grass, watching the few people there were talking as he prepared a small doe that they had killed. He had, after some time, managed to make a small fire by smashing two stones together and holding them over some grass. He now sat over a small fire as he held each peice of meat over it in turn. He knew there was a better way to do this, but he didn't want to ruin anything.

he had already burnt his hand several times, but the meat was fine. he had healed his hand, which, he had learned, only he could do. as he put the last peice of venison on a large, flat stone that he had found. He stood up, "okay, it's all ready." ten out of eleven of the people stumbled forward and each took a peice of meat, but Apollo waited behind, "Roet, Where did you come from? Why are you here? who were the other two people that were here?" Roet let Apollo speak, then replied, "I came from...the library. Before that, I don't know. I'm here to help you, and the other two were...friends, of mine." Apollo nodded, then grabbed himself a peice of meat.

Roet went back to the carcass of the doe and grabbed one of the rib bones firmly. He pulled with all his might, twisting and turning, until he managed to get it out of the carcass. He examined the bone, then wiped some blood off. He reached back and grabbed a particularily sharp stone and started sharpening the bone.

After a few minutes, he had it sharp enough that he could show the people what it was for. He turned around and call Polidarius. As the man approached, Roet held out the bone knife, "This knife was made from the rib of a doe. I'd like to show you how to use and make these knives. Roet took the knife back and reached down into the doe to grab another rib bone. He pulled one out after a few short moments and started showing Polidarius how to make the knives. within an hour he had made three knives, leaving a total of four. Roet gave one to Polidarius, Karykeion, Asclepius, and Apollo.

Finally, Roet took Coronir aside and, with Polidarius' kninfe, taught Coronus how to make small clothes such as sleevles shirts and pants with the skins. Apollo gladly donned the new clothes. Roet told everyone to get a good night's sleep, and that they would learn much, much more tomorrow. He waited until they were all asleep before slipping out of the small Once-Sanctuary...

If Ember was surprised, by anything ever for that matter, it was hidden deftly. Perhaps it was due to the fact he had no visible face to show such emotion on, but he would like to think it was his superior intellect. He hated emotion. Except hate was an emotion… after further consideration, emotions were good, but only if they were strong emotions filled with lots of ‘feeling’.

Ember looked upon the other being and immediately knew him, knew much about him yet knew nothing of him. Things began resounding in his mind, beating and pulsing over and over again. The three rules they were, Ember knew them as such, and this man in front of him was The Craftsman, great and powerful and not to be hated(though Ember didn’t much care for the man’s name, Craftsman. He hated the name, actually. Well, really, he just didn’t like it as much as Ember. Craftsman was an alright name, he conceded). He knew immediately and unquestioningly of what he should do, knew that in reality he had little choice in the matter. He hated it, but what else was new?

“I shall go there now, Craftsman.” His voice came as if from the inside of a cave, echoed and distorted as if he had said the statement many times in many different voices. It sounded serene and happy in areas, mostly screaming in agony in other areas. It was… strange, at best. Annoying at worst.

Ember turned about, walking to what he knew was the Northwest based on nothing but his own inner instincts. He had no idea how long two thousand miles would take to traverse, but it mattered not. The Craftsman wished it of him, and the Craftsman was not to be hated or ignored. Ember went onward in his mechanical fashion, so unlike a human yet familiar in a strange way.

Roet looked up as a man appeared and spoke to him. The thing was, the man spoke to him as if he was a beast. Roet looked the man up and down, "This place, friend, is my Once-Sanctuary. These are my people." He gestured to the eleven sleeping people scattered about the grass,, sleeping. "As for your purpose, I do indeed know of it. We are to find these Sanctuaries, and help the people here, making our civilization. I'm sorry, though, that I do not know where the other Sanctuaries are. I've been very busy with my eleven people to think about that. If you want, you may wait here for a short time and I can...explain some of what has recently happened." he smiled reassuringly and walked back into the small grassy area, where a small fire was still burning. Roet sat down and piked the fire with a small twig, "All I really know is that we shouldn't go to the library, and that most Sanctuaries, if not all, are north of here." Roet sighed as he watched the flames...

The Craftsman stroked his beard once more with a wry smile on his face once more. Ember hardly spoke at all, it was something that he had always admired about him. He suited his role perfectly and he had never been one to be trifled with. He watched the man walk away. Ember wasn't insubordinate, but he definitely wasn't one to be controlled. He would remark upon him with particular interest.

The sun was starting to creep towards the western horizon. Already the first day was beginning to draw to a close. He knew of at least two more who he had yet to talk to. There was one very close by who he would ignore for now.

Jikrae'neindir had just surfaced on the world. His emotions could be as chaotic as Ember's at times but overall he remembered him as being more stable. The tall figure adjusted the old coat that was made of a brown material that was much like leather. Strange angular designs were depicted as raised leather on the cuffs and fringes of the coat. Most of them were designs and timelines of days long past.

He turned around and was gone, leaving nothing but dust in the wind.

He resurfaced in the same garden that he had led Roet and Amelia to just moments before. He appeared towering over the somewhat diminutive figure of Jikrae'neindir and laid a hand on his shoulder lightly. "Roet is already hard at work teaching his people. Perhaps I have the answers you seek, Jikrae'neindir."

He smiled warmly, "It's good to see that you're alright, and that you made it here safely. If you would walk with me." His silvery eyes glinted metallic under the sun, almost like they had shifted somehow. He waited for him to turn and address him before he made another move. While he was waiting for a response he surveyed the crowd of people gathered around Roet. The man was relatively new to their kind, yet he seemed to be handling himself rather well with these people.

He nodded sagely to Roet. "Well said, Roet. Though I would urge you to consider these pilot suggestions rather than orders."

The world was still and silent as any new world would be. The small creature known only as Zephyr was curled up into a ball. Her long skin covered arms was wrapped around herself to cover her face.
The moment before there had been no awareness of anything. She had not even known her own body. The sudden presence of the world overwhelmed her and at the same time she was filled with happiness. Her body told her that it wasn’t hot or cold around her. Then her mind kicked in and gave her the feeling that it was wrong of her to just sit here curled up. Her newly received life was not going to include sitting still.

With her whole mind she felt that it was against her very existence.
That moment Zephyr removed her arms and pierced the thin bubble that held her up. She stretched her fingers and floated slowly downwards towards the ground. Before she hit it she unfolded her legs and carefully put down her paws on the rocks. The sensation of touching something for the first time was impossible to describe. She was standing up for the first time and yet it was like she had these basic movements already printed into her mind. The touch of the ground made her feel steady and secure. Her whole body relaxed and she stood still. A small breeze rolled over the hills.

The small wind ruffled Zephyrs fur slightly and made her long ears swing slightly.
That was the thing that she had been longing for. The movement mad the green creature, open her eyes.

The world stretched out before her as a vast ocean of rocks. Bright rays of light touched the ground and Zephyr just stood there and watched it.
The wind that had not existed up until then picked up speed. Like a child that was finally released from a long car trip it swept over the rocks making the dust whirl around Zephyr. It pulled her ears again and pushed on her light body.

Zephyr sniffed the air before she raised her arms. The wind immediately caught the thin membrane and pushed her back with force. Zephyr fell back wards and tumbled a few times. The backwards somersaults ended with the small creature upside down and very dusty.

She sat up and stared to the sky with pitch black eyes. With a shriek of excitement Zephyr put her hands to the ground and repeated the motion she had just lived through. But from her position the push made her do a flip from the ground and up on her legs again.
She stood up and cried out letting her shrill voice echo in the winds. Once more she held out her arms and stretched her wings. The wind returned and caught her again but this time Zephyr adjusted her arms to catch the wind and push her without making her fall.

In a second the wind managed to push her off the ground and up into the sky. She went higher and higher for a while just to get the feel of it. But her flight was wobbly and insecure and pretty soon she ended up on the ground again.
Her face was buried into the dust and the rocks and as she lay there she had a revelation. Flying was a lot harder than one could think.

The cosmos stretched limitlessly on either side and every dimension. Spangles of star-studded galaxies, swirling quarks and mesons. And, beyond them all, beyond the frontiers of thought and reasoning, darkness. Darkness that was not the absence of light, but a living, clinging, breathing thing both infinitesmal and real.

But in the midst of this inky blackness, something was gathering.

It was little more than the faintest of pulses, flickering faintly at the corners of her awareness. But its faint beats were persistent, and continued to gain in strength till it was rapidly swelling to a throb, gathering life and energy and sending out little tendrils of warmth. Awareness. Understanding. Comprehension. And, more and more insistent with each passing moment, a nagging push that drove her ever closer to wakefulness.

With a faint, shuddering gasp, Nyx opened her eyes.

She was lying spread-eagled on her back, hood crumpled under her neck and her pale hair strewn out around her. The first thing she was aware of was the dizzying onslaught of sensation. The play of light and shadow, harsh against her eyes. Warmth, the slightest waft of wind. The shifting grains of sand under fingertips tingling with the sensitivity of newly formed nerves.

It was almost too much to take in at first, but thankfully, it was little more than a few moments before the spate subsided and calm descended upon her again. Already, her mind was blossoming. Things sprung unbidden to knowingness. Her name, Nyx. This barren world and its Creator. The reasons for her existence, though this was still foggy and unclear. But this she knew, she had a goal to strive towards and a task to complete, and it sent her bracing her hand against the shifting sand, and slowly struggling up into a sitting position.

Her first steps were unsteady, and she staggered ever so slightly. Soon however, her steps had grown poised and graceful. The hem of her robes dragged in the sand and rippled around her feet like shifting water to give her the illusion of gliding, more than walking. The silken material seemed to shimmer and shift under the sun, weaving spangled patterns and drifting half-images that appeared and blurred repeatedly out of view. For a few moments, she stayed where she was, eyes cast up to the clear azure sky. The expression on her piquant face was calm, yet strangely set.

Then with one smooth movement, she grasped the sides of her hood and pulled it over her face to obscure her features, and was off.

Even as she walked, her eyes darted rapidly around her, thirstily drinking in every new sight and sensation. There was little to see except barren crags of rock and heated sand, but even this was new and wonderful to her. Already, her imagination was poised to take off, dreaming of the wonders that could be wrought here and the beauty that it could be moulded into. It was a sensation akin to what a sculptor felt when faced with a hunk of marble, or a painter with a blank canvas. The potential to create.

She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but a firm and insistent tug in the back of her mind seemed to direct her towards the tower that loomed bleakly against the sky in the distance. It just felt right. A number of weaker tugs at her awareness indicated the possibility of others like her. This was enough food for thought to make her falter for the briefest of moments before resuming her smooth stride. The thought, like much else so far, had sprung unbidden to mind. But none could deny that it had a certain reason to it. The task of cultivating this barren planet was not a feat that could be overcome by one, or even a few, individuals.

As before, the thought of their collective goal seemed to fill her with a warm light from within. The added prospect of companions to share in this glorious creation was both heartening and reassuring, and a small smile curved the lips visible under her hood. Nyx hastened her steps towards the looming tower.

Jikrae was taken aback considerably by the fact that Roet emphasized the word 'friend' in his reply, implying that he considered himself to be Jikrae's equal. Considering that this was possible, considering the strangeness of this new land, Jikrae quickly tried to correct himself.

"My apologies, friend. You and I are different, and I am new to this place. I did not understand who you were at first."

He tried to continue, but a memory seemed to come to Jikrae in a flash, cutting him off. It was a memory of centuries of time all compressed into a mere second. In that small space of time, the lightning ceased to strike out from Jikrae's eyes, leaving two bleak, colorless white orbs in their place. There were no pupils, irises, or anything else to signify that they were more than glass spheres, though there was very little time to look before the crimson bolts resumed.

He could remember very little of what he had just seen afterward, but he did remember a person and a name connected to him. He remembered some sort of explanation, a speech or lecture of some sort, but he couldn't recall the details of it. He did know, however, that as soon as the speech was finished, the vision had ended, thrusting him rudely back into the world again, just as Roet began to explain that Jikrae needed to stay away from the Library.

The Three Laws were seared into his mind now. He had known nothing of them just moments before, and now he wondered if he'd ever forget them. He tried his absolutely best to recall that speech from his vision, but only the first line came to him.

I am the craftsman, and I am the only neutral party here...

It was at that point that he felt a presence nearby, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source until the Craftsman materialized in front of him. It was not in Jikrae’s nature to show any emotion, but when the same person he remembered from the vision appeared from nowhere and set a hand on his shoulder --avoiding the spike grafted into the armor-- surprise seemed to emanate from Jikrae, even though it was almost impossible to discern it from his face.

“You’re the Craftsman!” Jikrae almost yelled in an incredulous voice. “I remember you from…well…I remember you…”

Jikrae slowly trailed off, nodding his assent to walk with the Craftsman, still profoundly confused, yet holding a thirst to discover more about the place he was in.

Ember came to his sanctuary, which he crowned as the best one and destined to be the greatest on the land(clearly not to be hated, ever, by anyone). The stone walls receded down slowly, Ember hating them as they went, then deciding that they served a very good practical purpose and that he would be sure to remember such things as walls for later. Walls were to be loved, not hated. His walls, that was. Ember’s walls were good, other walls were bad things that needed to be torn down. Obviously.

He walked in his fashion upon the grass of his sanctuary, leaving burnt footprints in his wake. The people of the place came to him, afraid for their lives. Fear was good. Wait… Fear was bad! His people would fear none, fear was to be hated!
Unless it was fear of him, of his power. That fear would stay, all other fear would be destroyed. Yes, he liked that. He looked over the area, his floating bloodshot eyes turning every which way in their place in the flames. He hated the water, but knew it as necessary and so limited his hate some.

After much time had passed, one of the humans came forward and spoke. “Who be you?” the human said to the walking inferno that was mighty Ember.
“I am your master, human!” Ember’s echoing voice boomed out at the man, causing him to immediately begin begging for his life. As he groveled, Ember stood and basked in it, not hating this groveling at all. Groveling was a good thing, he liked it.
“Ember is my name, but it is death to speak it!” He yelled, anger clear even in his strange voice. “You shall be my people. The greatest people. Ember’s people, you shall show your dominance in everything you do! Who’s people are you, mortals? Say it loudly.”
The assembled humans looked at one another confusedly, though they had understood most of everything the fiery man said. With much fear and trepidation, one of the humans came out and asked for clarification.
“Master, you say that you name be death to speak.” He said, all the while kneeling and on the verge of tears.
“I said nothing like that. Say my name, humans.” Ember responded quickly and without discernable emotion in his strange speech.
“Ember’s people, master.” The assorted peoples said, not quite in time with one another but they said it all the same.
“How dare you speak my name!” His fires flared up about him, seeming to make him even larger than he was. The assembled humans gave shouts and screams and backed away, on the verge of running. “I shall overlook that slight for now.” Ember said, his flames dieing down to their normal level. The crowd sighed.

Slowly, without any questioning from his people, Ember laid out the rest of his confusing laws(the words “hate“ and “scorn” showed up frequently). When that was done, he began the process of teaching his people how to conduct simple tasks such as making clothing and food and shelter. Ember then decided, in his infinite wisdom, that it would be most efficient to delegate actions to every one of his followers, each one having a specific job and knowing only that. As he began the process, he then realized that it was difficult to hand out jobs without names for those he was handing them out to. He hated difficulty.

His peopled lined up as they were commanded, about a dozen in all. Even in so short a time, they were already taking on the likeness of their master in spirit. His constant tutelage and laws were molding them into what he wished, hateful zealots. As they lined up, the did so in uniformed fashion, little confusion and no unnecessary shoving or words to the act being ordered by Ember himself.

“I will give you all names.” Ember said simply. Ember began walking down the line, pointing to the first one he came to, saying the name, and then moving on.
“Seven.”
“Eleven.”
“Thirty-five.”
“Twenty.”
“Four.”
“Seventeen.”
“Nine.”
The naming went on much in that fashion, a random confusing order of numbers that made no rational sense for why they were picked for the specific human. Satisfied, his people each named a different number, Ember disbursed the assembled peoples. They each went back to their jobs, a little proud of being named by their master.

Ember wandered about his land, keeping a semi-watchful eye on his people. He would automate this place, his people would shape this land to what they wished it to be and if they found themselves lacking of anything, they would take it. Ember liked this place, he hated it not at all. He envisioned a mighty empire, ever expanding its borders. His people would believe themselves superior, would believe themselves the rightful owners of everything this world has to offer. Ember was eager to get them up to speed, fully molded into what he wished them to be. On the issue of what his people were, he was not fickle, but indeed hateful.

It had been a while, in fact quite a long time. She wasn't too sure how long, but she had noticed that the sky was starting to get darker and the warm air was starting to get cooler.

During the time between when she first met her people to now, she had been watching them and few had been watching her. They seemed to slowly get the hang of walking and talking to each other as well as understanding each other. Although she had been sitting on the grass the whole time, clutching her knees to her chest, no one had bothered to approach her.

Am I that scary? She asked herself as she looked up to the sky. I hope I'm not. I'd hate to be someone everyone's afraid of.

"Umm... miss?"

She looked from the sky to a young girl's face. She was, by appearance, about the same age as her. Amelia only guessed they could be. They had started to exist around the same time, or at least to Amelia. "Yes?" She smiled as she starred at the girl's frightened face.

The girl jumped slightly and her eyes looked to the side when she spoke. "Umm..." She looked back to the group of people who were watching carefully. "Well... everyone has been speaking and..." She trailed off, her eyes to the side. The girl took a deep breath and spat it out, "could you help us?"

Amelia was silent, starring at the girl, her eyes wide and her mouth relatively open. The girl looked at Amelia's face sternly after she didn't say anything.

"Everyone's hungry and cold!"

Amelia's shocked expression slowly went into a smile and she nodded. She stood up suddenly and the girl jumped back, afraid. Amelia nodded and said with as much leadership as she could, "I'll help you all!" She looked to the people beyond the girl sternly and they slowly smiled and came over.

Amelia looked to the girl again and rubbed her hand on top of her head, bringing the girl out of her afraid state. "I'm glad someone finally said something." She whispered to the girl alone and the girl smiled back in return.

"Now then," She called out to the group and they jumped, "Let's get you guys warmed up, shall we?" She smiled and looked to the girl, "Gather as many rocks as you can find in the green area. Past the green area is dangerous. Bring the rocks to the fountain and I'll tell you want to do afterwards."

The girl nodded and pulled along a few more girls who seemed to be around the same age. They were all smiling and went off in search. Then she was left with everyone else. "I'm not too sure of what animals you have here-" She noticed the confused expression on the young man, "the beasts-" She said quickly and the man nodded, "So we'll decide what to do with them later. She looked around and spotted a small area that had no green and walked over to it.

The people seemed to be confused since she had just said not to go near it for it was dangerous. She bent down anyways and felt the earth, feeling the nutrients that would surely bring great beauty. She smiled back to them before looking back to the spot. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, not really knowing how this would work out.

She started to move her finger in a cross-like pattern on the ground for a minute or so until it was etched there. Following that, she stopped and stuck her finger deep into the middle of the cross. She pulled it out and looked to one of the small boys. "Can you scoop up some water from the fountain there?" She pointed to the place and he nodded, ran over, scooped up the water and came back as quickly and carefully as he could.

He bent down beside her and she nodded to him, "Keep the water in your hands there, okay?" She boy nodded and she looked back to an older man. "Please bring me a piece of wood of some sort. Long and thin would be best." The man nodded and went off.

The younger man who seemed most confused by everything came up behind the crouching Amelia and spoke up, "Just what are you doing?" He asked.

Amelia smiled, "You wanted to be warm right?" She pointed to the hole she made. "I'm going to grow a tree and from that we can get wood. With wood and force, fire can be made. Fire is a source of heat and light, from that we can be warmed up." The man didn't seem to really get how she would 'grow' wood but nodded anyways.

The older man had come back with a few sticks and laid them down in front of Amelia. She nodded to him and he stepped back. She rummaged through the pile of wood until she found the perfect stick and stuck it into the hole. From there she looked to the boy and smiled, "Now, please poor the water from your hands at the base of the stick." She pointed to the area and he did so. "Now step back."

Everyone stepped back and she waited, watching the stick until she sighed. It just didn't seem to be working. From what she could remember, it was supposed to work. A large tree was supposed to sprout. As for what kind, it depended on the stick used. She placed her hand at the base of the tree and closed her eyes.

Please grow. These people need you to survive. Although we might take some branches from you, they will only take what they need and nothing more. Please? She opened her eyes and starred at the spot.

For a moment, nothing happened until she noticed the soil become hard, as if something was underneath it and she stood up. She stepped back as the stick started to get thicker and taller and she smiled. The people behind her were amazed, if not frightened. The children hid behind the adults until the tree had stopped growing. It was now at least ten feet high.

Amelia smiled to the tree as leaves grew onto it and followed by that, fruit grew. She spun around and looked to the people. The few girls from before had come and stopped to watch.
Amelia spoke up, so that all of them could hear her, "This tree," she gestured behind her, "is the first one I have created. This tree will give you warmth and food to stop the rumble within your stomachs. I hope you will all respect it and only take what you need. This tree has given you everything it has and has been born out of your desire. Please protect it and care to it as it does to you."

She wasn't sure they had understood completely but it seemed as though they had, if not a little. She looked to the girls with the stones and smiled to them. "Bring the stones over here." She pointed to a place not far from the tree. Place them all in a circle and then dig out the area within the stones. From there, I'll place these-" she pointed to the left over sticks, "into the pit and from there I will teach you how to make fire." The people all smiled and they quickly went to doing so.

Amelia wasn't too sure of how she got that tree to grow, which she just realized, as she picked the fruit, that it had been an apple tree, or how she even knew how to make it grow. She knew one thing though, to have the tree grow like that, to be strong and caring, it had to have a birth that was strong and caring.

She had picked enough apples for each person in this small village and had come back over to where they had dug out the pit and placed the wood. She handed out the apples one by one and told them not to eat them yet.

"Please, listen, this is important." It seemed as though she had gotten their attention. "Fire, it is not something that should be used without restraints. Fire can either be something that helps, or something that destroys. If the fire ever manages to leave this pit, all of you will be endanger. That tree will die if fire gets onto it."

One of the children cried out, "Then how do we stop it?"

Amelia nodded, and pointed to the dirt, "There is plenty of dirt. Dirt can be used to stop fires so put the dirt over top when you're done and make sure not to touch the fire." She smiled to them all. "Let's get you warmed up then." They all nodded and watched as Amelia went over to the pit.

It had taken some time, and by now it was almost completely dark but she had managed to start the fire and teach the older how to make it. It seemed as though she could trust the older more than the young. She only guessed that was because they were fascinated and didn't know the true horror of what fire could bring. Although Amelia didn't really know either.

The fire had started, and when the light and warmth came, everyone cheered and Amelia said it was okay to eat now. They all bit into their apples and it seemed as though they were quite pleased. Amelia was smiling for the longest time though. It seemed as though after they had eaten that the younger went to bed and the older stayed up to talk with her.

It wasn't until now that she realized just how much their language had developed since she had first met them. She had been too preoccupied to notice but she was rather proud. At least they could understand each other now, and quite well. It was then that they asked who she was and what she had come here for.

"Uhh.. well..." She smiled sheepishly, "I was told to take care of you all and watch over you. I'm not too sure as to why, but I'm glad I did come." They smiled at each other and asked her name. "My name?" She blinked and starred at them all, it seemed as though they wanted to know more about her, although she couldn't really understand how they had come to the word 'name'. "Well, my name is Amelia."

They all nodded and few seemed to be shocked. She supposed a name meant an identity, a sense of purpose. She smiled to them all. "Tomorrow, when I teach you more, I'll give you each a name. You can even think of some now if you wish." They all nodded to her and after a while feel asleep.

Amelia had made her way back to the tree and starred up at the stars. They were so beautiful to her and she felt happy. A mark had been placed on this world that she had existed. She was glad she could help the people as well. She wasn't sure if they were growing accustomed to her yet but she knew that most would at least speak to her.

Amelia touched the bark of the tree and started to hum a melody, although she wasn't too sure of where it came from. She had just thought of random notes that sounded well with each other and hummed. She watched over them all, humming her song, watching the stars and watching her people, the ones she gave a chance to.

Ave opened her eyes to find herself staring at an immense blue sky. She stared at it a while, a slow grin spreading over her face. Her eyes, at opening a dull grey, changed to match the bright blue of the sky. Slowly she realized she was laying on soft ground; the air slightly warm, and no noise whatsoever. Seeing nothing else of interest, she sat up quickly, only to be disappointed at the bleak, barren landscape that greeted her eyes. Her smile fell slightly, and she gazed around her, intently searching for something of mild interest. Finding nothing, she laid back down with a plop, and resumed her watch of the sky. Her eye quickly found a small wisp of cloud, which she promptly studied intensely. In a few minutes the wind had blown it apart, but, far from disappointed, she let the endlessness of the sky fill her vision.

She lay there for hours, letting the small joy of beauty keep her happy. She cared not as to why she was here, or where she was, or where she had come from. She was here, existing, and had no particular reason to disrupt her current happiness. A flash of darkness and nothingness crossed her mind, but quickly passed. Her thoughts, somewhat disrupted now, tried to return to the sky. To her dismay, the blueness of the sky was fading, to be replaced by a washed out green tinged hue. She stood up; her eyes still focused upwards, as the smile left her face. Tearing her eyes away, she was met with a surprise that lit up her eyes and face with a smile. Sudden laughter broke the stillness of the landscape, as she watched the now beautiful sunset sink behind the far off mountains.

Already standing, she walked a few feet before deciding to sit back down. There wasn’t any point in walking; the view was incredible from right here. She stared at the sunset thoughtfully, though a grin was still on her face. Her thoughts, so like the blank stillness of the sky before, were now the rapid, changing colors of the sunset. She knew she had a supposed goal, for some reason, she even knew many of the specifics of it. She had no urge to get up and pursue it though; she was content here. Yet she knew she couldn’t stay for long, if not for want, for the fact that she knew something would eventually come and intrude on her. She decided to wait, letting herself enjoy the moment as long as she could, and not do as she had to unless prompted to otherwise.

He walked slowly side by side with the short man, a small smile told only by the slight change in elevation of his mustache was planted on his weathered face.

"I know that this must be very overwhelming, but you've grown so fast already. I am truly impressed and if you would permit I would like to choose your garden for you." They were walking like he had been before. Every step covered thousands of miles and the very air seemed to vibrate until he set his foot down on the earth again, but it appeared as if he were taking slow, controlled strides.

"These people I crafted with you in mind. I think you'll find them suitable. They inhabit a mountain at present. They will make very hardy soldiers and hunters some day." He said with a smile. "I think you'll need them, because Ember is setting up camp not too far South of here." He smiled as they touched down in front of the stone wall.

"I leave you to your own designs." He said calmly and turned around. "This is your purpose and your test. I'm sorry for the rushed introduction but there are a few others who still lack direction."

***

"Hello Ave." The Craftsman said before he was even near her. Yet his voice echoed all around her. "It's good to see you." There was a shimmering in the air, like the effect of heat over the ground, and the craftsman materialized in front of her. "I trust that you're finding your new home to your liking." He smiled broadly and spread his arms. "If you've got questions then now is the time. I won't gather you all for the stone council for another year."

He lowered his arms and stared at her contemplatively. "Are you ready to meet your followers?"

Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 10:32 pm

History of the Exiles Page Two Continued

Roet sat by the fire, hardly aware of his surroundings, when he heard a small crack behind him. He turned instantly and inadvertly grabbed Hygieia by the throat. He quickly let her go. "Hygieia...what are you doing up so late?" there was the sound of tears, then Roet continued, "Shhh...quiet, it's okay. I didn't mean to hurt you." He hugged Hygieia close to his chest as he had seen Coronis do to Telesforos. "Now, what were you doing up?" he asked, once the stifled sobs had been stopped. Hygieia spoek in a very soft, high-pitched voice, "I couldn't sleep when I heard some voices. I couldn't get back to sleep..." Roet hugged Hygieia again, "Okay. so are you even a little tired?" Hygieia shook her head, then Roet thought for a second, "Okay, let's just sit together, and talk, okay?" Hygieia nodded and sat down next to the fire.

Roet looked over to Hygieia, "So, how old are you?" Hygieia looked down at her fingers and counted slowly. Finally, she held up six fingers. Roet smiled, "Six years old? Wow. so...what do you want to be when you grow up. Hygieia shrugged. Roet sighed, "can you atleast say something?" Hygieia smiled, "Something." Roet glared jokingly at her, "you sure are a joker, aren't you?" Hygieia giggled and nodded, "I like annoying Telesforos, too. It's fun!" Roet nodded, "I can understand how you'd think that..." He paused, "can you do me a favour?" Hygieia half-shrugged, half nodded. Roet grabbed a long stick from the fire and held out the un-burnt end to her, "hold this up so that I can see, okay?" Hygieia nodded enthusiastically.

Roet ventured slowly and softly away from the Once-Sanctuary. Hygieia stayed close behind, yawning several times and and obviously getting more tired by the minute. Roet was keeping a very close eye on her, finally stopping at a large tree. he grabbed a single branche, a long, thin one, and tested it. it was brittle and dead. "Hmm... that's no good... I need something... bendy..." he jumped and grabbed a long, bendy branch from near the top of the short tree. After testing it, he proclaimed it perfect and started walking back.

About halfway back, not very far, but far enough, Hygieia finally tired out completely. Roet, who had been expecting it, caught her and picked her up. He let the torch fall to the ground, where i was left, burning serenely. Roet continued on, and reached the Once-Sanctuary in a matter of moments. Once there, he set Hygieia down and walked back to the fire. He set down the bendy stick and laid down. He almost instantly fell asleep...

Jikrae was lost for words. His thoughts were still on the vision he had just had, but also on the words the Craftsman had just spoken. Jikrae had no illusions that having his Garden chosen for him made him any more powerful than any other Exiles. For all he knew, the Craftsman had done this for everyone.

Though his appreciation was beyond anything that could be verbalized, he did manage to say something before the Craftsman turned around.

"Thank you," Jikrae said clearly and loudly, and then strode forward to the walls at a more Human pace, set back by the unreal speed he and the Craftsman had been moving at. He didn't remember Ember or who he was, but for some reason -- perhaps because of the implications of the Craftsman's final words to him -- he associated the name with a single word: Enemy.

The walls fell down as Jikrae approached, and for an instant he regretted his entrance. Jikrae knew that, without walls, his people would be unprotected and susceptible to attacks. An instant later, however, he realized that it must have been necessary, a part of this 'test' that had been laid out for him.

Inside the perimeter of the walls, the ground turned slightly softer, though it still held a mountainous firmness that Jikrae preferred to the soft, mercurial texture of the outside Desert. He appraised the area carefully, noting that, as he was almost one thousand feet above the rest of the Desert, this Garden was incredibly defensible. It was bordered on one side by the Mountains, with the mountain's edge on the opposite side and two open paths on the other two. With a sigh of relief at the excellent location of this area, Jikrae realized that the Garden was situated on a colossal ledge.

People were milling about inside the border, and Jikrae immediately noted that their stature was much heavier than his. There were four men, five women, one boy, and one girl moving about in disorganized patterns. None of them looked tremendously athletic or skilled in any art, which Jikrae considered useful; it meant that he could mold each individual as he chose to.

Jikrae assumed that all the leadership skills that he had taught to himself inside his dreams would certainly become useful, though all of them might not be practical in a world so vastly different than the ones he had created.

The eleven people within the Garden approached him cautiously, their faces full of wonder rather than fear at the sight of the heavily-armored man standing before them. One of the men quickly strode ahead of them, clearly, Jikrae noted, fancying himself their leader.

"Who are you?"

He was brave to ask it, for Jikrae sensed a quiver of fear in his voice. This one would certainly be a particularly powerful member of Jikrae's Kingdom.

"I am Jikrae'neindir Noel'ti Sundran Veroeski," Jikrae churned out his full name with incredible speed, the accent and syllables coming naturally to him. "To you," he slowed down considerably, "I am Jik, your leader."

Noting the second of the Three Laws, Jikrae bowed low, showing his respect for those in his Garden.

"And who are we?" one of the members of the crowd piped up.

"You are the members of my Domain," he answered automatically, not completely understanding his words, "And I command the Climate. Know that no one from anywhere is better than you, and know that you are not better than them. Know that they may not hold that belief," Jikrae mentioned, remembering that, at first, he had believed himself to be better than Roet, "and that if they attack you, you have every right to fight back. Know that none of you are better than any other, and lastly, know that disobedience regarded with punishment."

Only one question emanated from the crowd of people, which now included the man who had confronted Jikrae upon his entrance, "What are 'Kingdoms?'"

"Kingdoms are groups of people much like yourself. Some Kingdoms will fight you, and other Kingdoms will help you."

Jikrae moved further into the Garden, examining the area carefully and looking for anything that would help him prepare his people for their immediate future. There were herds of goats sleeping nearby, and most of the flora in the Garden consisted of wildflowers of varying colors, hardy grasses, and a few strange trees unlike anything Jikrae had ever seen before. Rather than have regular leaves, they had green needles set upon spindly branches, which swayed lazily in the slight breeze of the evening.

He turned to the crowd following him suddenly, and most of them jumped back, except for the first man who had spoken to him and another person, a woman, who stood next to him.

"I shall give you all names according to the tasks you will perform in order to better this Kingdom. I shall help you all as much as I can in these tasks, though you must understand that I can not be everywhere at once."

Jikrae was not good with names. In his dreams, no individuality had existed; everyone had been called Jikrae'neindir. So, rather than try unsuccessfully to name all eleven people there, he decided to use the names in the language he had created in his dreams for the jobs they would be assigned.

He pointed to the man, who stayed where he was despite an obvious tinge of fear on his face. "You are Judros, and your name means Leader. If I am away, you will keep my presence here. Observe me, learn how I lead this Kingdom, and if for any reason I am ever forced to leave temporarily, you will act in my stead. Everyone must listen to Judros unless I am here, and to refuse his commands is to bring about my wrath when I return! Though I must warn you, Judros; abuse that power, and you will be the one incurring my wrath."

He pointed to the Woman next to him, who held her ground even though she was obviously terrified of Jikrae, "You are Maishu, and your name means Hunter. You, along with others, will go on excursions to procure food and supplies from the Mountains. I will teach you this art, and accompany you for a while. Then, after I deem you capable, you will lead your own Hunting groups, free to come and go as you please.

"You may step back, Judros and Maishu. Everyone else, move forward to be named."

He pointed to a man on the right edge of the line they had formed, admiring their discipline already. "You are Maikau, perhaps one of the most difficult names to live up to. Maikau means 'assassin,' and an assassin is someone who kills another in secret, without anyone knowing who the killer is. I will teach you this, but it is not an art to be taken lightly. You will never use it against another member of this Kingdom, and you will only use it on our enemies when I instruct you to."

He pointed to the woman next to him, "You are Karomy, and your name means Clothier. You will create clothes for the others in the Kingdom using supplies such as animal skin and plants. Eventually, if you are still here when such events begin, you will design armor for the rest of the people to assist us in fighting other Kingdoms."

He pointed to the girl next to Karomy, and said, "You are Zifro, and your name means 'Librarian.' I will teach you to write, and for the duration of your life, you will scribe the history of this Kingdom, recording everything of any importance that happens."

He pointed to the boy next to Zifro and said, "You are Kitoky, which means Scout. You will spend most of your day observing the Desert Landscape from the Ledge, watching for any movement or activity. You must be careful not to go over the edge of the mountain, because, though you may not comprehend it yet, you will die. Dying is what happens to those who have been injured too severely in battle or who have grown too old to continue moving. You simply cease to exist, though you will not have to worry about death for quite a long time."

The man standing next to Kitoky was next, "You are Kydrosik, which means Healer. I will teach you to create salves and potions to assist in healing any injuries that anyone here might sustain. It is not possible to prevent the Death through such mundane means, but it is possible to keep it from taking any of you too early."

The only other man in the group was next, "You are Douvaen, which means Gatherer. While you may accompany Maishu on Hunting Expeditions most of the time, there will be other times when you will need to gather other things, such as supplies for weaponry and tools."

The woman standing next to Douvaen was next, "You are Serenei, which means The Light. You will speak with those of this group who are in need and give them hope when I am not present. I can teach you very little of this, but in you I see the potential to become great at your task, which is just as difficult as that of both Judros and Maikau."

The woman next to Serenei was the next one to be named, "You are Firei, which means Builder. I will teach you how to construct things from this Mountain, and then you will make such things without my guidance."

Finally, the last person to be named was a woman at the end of the line, "You are Quris, which means Shepherd. You will tend to the herd of Goats, which is what those animals sleeping there are called, and make sure that they do not wander outside the border of this Kingdom.

"Know that all of you, no matter your names, will be required to help where necessary! Now, the sun is setting, which means that it is time to sleep. I will still be here in the morning, so rest and prepare for the next day, when the work will begin. I will tend to everything here tonight."

The people within the garden did not seem to eager to sleep, as some of them were beginning to become hungry, but Jikrae was firm in that decision, and he had already made it clear that he did not appreciate opposition.

"If you awake, do not attempt to find me. I will not be sleeping among you, but rather I will be wandering the Mountains in search of things that may be useful to us.

Jikrae was, of course, lying. He knew that he could find caches of supplies the next day or later on that night. No, he had absolutely no intention of wandering aimlessly around the Mountains. He felt a presence emanating from the Desert below him, similar to the emotion he had felt when he was around Roet. He assumed that it meant another being like himself must be down there, close-by, and judging by what the Craftsman said, that must be where Ember was residing. He knew that he hated that name, but he wanted a reason why. After all the members of his Kingdom were asleep on the grass of the Garden, Jikrae took a running jump off the ledge.

Landing on the tough surface of the mountain would no-doubt have very seriously injured his legs, but at the incredible speed that he flew off the edge, he cleared the base of the mountain by several hundred meters, crashing painfully into the soft Desert sands. He remembered that he had considered the pain he'd felt when he awoke to be unbearable, and chuckled slightly as he shrugged off the searing feeling in his legs. He knew he had limitations, but he was certainly not going to reach them by running off that ledge.

He felt the presence to the East, and bolted in that direction until he saw a small patch of green standing out against the Desert landscape. As he drew closer, he slowed down considerably and noticed that it was marred by several burn marks in the shape of footprints. He immediately knew that this was the Kingdom of Ember, and so he stopped directly outside its boundary; his toes mere millimeters away from touching a blade of grass that had sagged down almost to the ground.

His deep voice grew into a booming call as he yelled out for Ember, "If this is the Kingdom of Ember, I should wish to speak with its ruler!"

While waiting, Jikrae's thoughts returned to the vision he had seen just before the Craftsman had appeared at Roet's Kingdom. He tried almost desperately to recall even the smallest parts of that dream, but he only managed to glean a few words: Exile, Dominion, and omnipotence. Set into any context, those words could mean anything, and Jikrae knew it. Frustrated, he was about to return his attention to the present world, and then a flash of memory came to him.

Climate. Your Domain is the ability to control the weather. At first, you will not be capable of conjuring anything but small, localized rainstorms and thunderheads. But as you grow more powerful, you will be able to conjure tornadoes and maelstroms from the skies. It is an extraordinary ability, but there are others that are more powerful than it in their own way, and just the same, there are others that will be susceptible to it.

Earlier, when Jikrae had mentioned to his Kingdom that they were the Domain of Climate, he hadn't quite realized what he was saying. In his dreams, he had been an immortal leader, and though long-lived, he had been capable of no extraordinary feats besides that. Now he realized that he had powers of his own, powers that would set him as an equal to the rest of the people who commanded Kingdoms, who he now knew the be called Exiles.

History of the Exiles Page Three

Ave looked up at the smiling Craftsman, and grinned back. Now that he was here, she remembered it was he that she had been expecting. She knew him, or had known him, very well at one point; she could not remember it now. Vague memories lay in the back of her mind concerning him, but she pushed them aside. She knew he was powerful and in charge, and that was all that mattered. Even that mattered precious little to her, yet she knew her current weakness, so his power was ever in the back of her mind.

A dreamy, happy look came over her face at his question. The sunset was long forgotten in her mind. The prospect of followers, while an unnamed foreboding before, was now suddenly an opportunity. She stood up and looked at him with eager eyes. She had no real questions, because she had no need of answers. While others might ask to verify or make sure they do nothing displeasing, she would simply do, and see what consequences were born.

Her excitement rising, an unbidden question did enter her mind. While, not necessarily decision altering, it would make things easier if answered. Before she could think to contain it, it spilled out onto her lips, “Will you interfere? I mean, no matter what we do…?” She stood there anxious, though the smile never left her face. Her mind was brimming with possibilities, and the thought of not being able to experiment did not make her happy. And it seemed, apparent from his knowledge of where she was and his ability to find and speak to her so easily, that she would have to abide by his instructions. She cocked her head at the Craftsman and let out a small laugh before adding, “because, Craftsman, I am quite ready for your challenge.”

Oh, the darkness. How the darkness did shroud her, confuse her, drive her deeper into the madness. Eora did fight, how she fought so desperately. It was as if she were running from something, or to something, but whichever one it was, she did not know.

She could feel something tightening around her being, but what to call it she did not know. She could feel it also lower, and then farther down where her being ended. Long, soft wisps frushed against her back, and a bright colour brushed into her eyes.

Eora.... You must wake now....

Eora's eyes shot open, and then shut tightly against the bright pain it brought against her saphire eyes. It was early, and the sun was bright, but she did not feel ready to face that sun. Not yet, at least.

She turned on her side to see what there was to see. A tall, dead, grey tree stood tall and proud to her side. The ground was full of tall weeds, a soft cushion under her body. She looked down to see what had tightened around her being, and found she now had a body.

There was tight black leather around her abdomen, concealing the two pressing bulges, yet revealing a small amount of her abs. Down, around her hips and some of her thighs, was more black leather. And, around her feet, there was leather up to her knees, but it had extensions to the bottom, so if she were to walk, she would be taller.

To her other side, there were three things: a long peice of metal, but with a peice of wood on the end for her to hold and not harm herself. A sword to carry on my back. There was a small replica of the peice of metal, but no longer than her own skeletal hand. A dagger to hide in case of need. And last, there was a long, stretched out peice of leather, braided into rope, with five extensions, and daggers on the end. When laid out, it took the appearence of a hand. And a whip, for my own imagination.

Eora stood, although rather unsteadily, and pulled the objects from the ground. Somehow, she knew what she was doing as she tied the sword to her back, the whip to her belt, the dagger into her boot. Somehow, she knew what she was doing as she slowly began to stride in the direction of the tree.

Her hands traced slightly the outline of the dead bark, and a malicious thought danced across her mind. This world is barely here and already it is plagued with death.... And then, with a horrid, hateful thought, and an insane grin on her face: No, it is dead because of me. It is now plagued with me.

And, with unsure insanity, Eora turned on her heel in the other direction. Without knowing what she was doing, why she was doing it, nor where she was going, she skipped off in to the distance, where what seemed like other, although living, trees existed. A demonic grin sat comfortably on her lips, and one could not mistake the madness that had taken residence permanently in the girl's mind.

As she continued to hum the song, making up new verses as the night went on, it seemed as though everything was quite peaceful. Everyone was asleep, if not somewhat cold and she decided that she should looked around the area a little more. When they awoke in a little while, they would need to head somewhere and if she didn't know where to head, than who else would?

Amelia stood up and brushed herself off, looking back at the tree for a moment. "Watch over them for me, will you?" She mumbled to the tree before hading away from it and exploring the area a little more.

There was hardly anything except green. It seemed as though the animals had stayed within the green area. Amelia only guessed it was because they were too afraid to venture beyond or perhaps what they needed was here. There were about three sheep, a goat or two, a two chickens and one cow.

There's not very much... She sighed and looked at the sleeping animals and then back towards the dimming fire. She looked to the ground and crouched down, apparently writing something on the ground.

There are eleven humans, about eight animals, water, a small amount of food and no clothes or weapons. She wrote this out on the ground with her finger, as if it was paper and she she was sorting out her ideas on that paper. So when they wake up, first I'll give them breakfast and followed by that I'll give them each a name. She nodded at her thoughts. Then... Her thought trailed off as she looked back towards the group of humans and stood up. "It seems as though they're already awake..." She mumbled as she headed back over.

Some of the older girls and boys had already started to wake up and she guessed that if she wasn't there, they would go into a panic. With a smile, she came back at sat at the base of the tree, as if she was never gone, as the girl from earlier woke up.

It was still relatively dark but it seemed as though the sun was slowly rising. It wasn't very bright, but enough to move around without the fire. Amelia could feel the air temperature rising as well. Soon there would be no need for the fire. Amelia started to hum her song once again and closed her eyes.

The girl woke up and heard the strange melody and looked to where it was coming from. She got up slowly and walked over to Amelia and sat down beside her. "What's that noise?" She asked.

Amelia opened one of her eyes and looked to the girl playfully, "Why? Do you like it?" The girl nodded and Amelia said nothing again, closing her eye and continuing to be quiet.

It seemed as though the girl was slightly annoyed by how Amelia was acting and she glared at her and said, "I like it a lot!"

Amelia smirked and opened both eyes, looking at her with a smile across her face. "That's more like it!" She rubbed the girl's head again and started to hum the melody as everyone else awoke.

Nyx paused in her steps, and glanced around her surroundings.

She had neared the redstone tower now, close enough to make out the details of windows, and the bloated arachnoid statues that stood guard over the doorway. Yet, she was hesitant to go further. It was not the tower itself that repelled her, rather, she felt instinctively that it was a place of power. A repository of knowledge, a sanctum. Exactly what knowledge, she did not know, but she treated it with slightly wary reverence.

No, her hesitance was caused by the inexplicable yet persistent feeling that her true purpose lay elsewhere. She could still sense the faint sparks of movement that she assumed were her fellows-to-be, though their number had reduced. This indicated that they had probably moved out of range of her ability to sense their presence, which only bolstered her conviction that activity stirred elsewhere, activity that she should be a part of.

The walk from her place of awakening had been spent mostly in re-arranging her thoughts with painstaking care, and taking stock of what information she could glean from her surroundings. Slowly, wispy half-fragments of memory had surfaced. Vestiges of a conversation, a conversation about creation, building block and fresh starts. A conversation in short, about her presence on this barren world and the reasons forewith. The gaps in her memory were mildly irking, but they were slowly being filled at their own pace, and she was patient.

Among the things she had recalled were the Three Laws. Hazy at first, these had no sooner touched the forefront of her mind than they had branded themselves into it, clear and blazing and unforgettable. With the Laws had come yet another memory., Any rate, an almost-memory, for it danced elusively just out of the reach of clear grasp and cognition. A blurred, indistinct memory of a person, a person of deep and resounding power and wisdom. Though she could not be sure how, she instinctively felt she had to meet him before she could continue on her path. Her task simply could not progress otherwise.

For now, she remained where she was, casting half-unsure glances up at the tower from time to time. A crack of uncertainty had entered her firm resolve for the first time since her confident journey from her place of awakening, and she was unsure and hesitant of how to proceed.

Roet could feel the sun shining down on his face. He could also feel the great fat stone sticking into his back. Hygieia poked his side, “Get up, Roet. Come one, it’s almost midday ” Roet looked up at the young girl, “sleep good?” he asked blearily as he pushed himself to his feet. He looked around. Almost everyone was doing... something. Chiron was learning how to use and make blades from Polidarius, Meditrine and Panacea were sitting with Apollo, who was speaking to them, waving his hands about. Coronis and Karykeion were skinning what appeared to be, though Roet could never be sure, was an elk. Roet scanned the throng for Iaso and Asclepias, but he couldn’t see them. He turned to Hygieia and was about to speak when he saw movement by a large-trunked tree. He moved forward, but stopped when he saw Iaso and Asclepias in a close embrace, kissing fiercely. His eyes widened and he back away slowly.

Roet walked casually back into the clearing. He watched the people of his small group as they taught themselves and each other how to live in a group and work together. A few minutes passed before Iaso walked back, whistling and being as casual as she could. Iaso walked towards Roet, dodging the newly-clothed Hygieia, Panacea, and Meditrine. She stepped up to Roet and spoke softly, almost nervously, “Is there anything we can do, Roet, to make things easier here?” Roet had been waiting for someone to ask that, His face immediately broke into a huge grin, “As a matter of fact, I do. I would like you and Asclepias to go get some wood. Preferably thin, long pieces. As many pieces as you can.” Iaso looked beyond happy and ran to tell Asclepias.

Roet, happy to spread some love, watched the two wander off, grabbing wood as they went. Roet turned his attention back to the ‘townsfolk’ and started wandering in between them, helping where he could. They all seemed very eager to do what they could to help. “Polidarius, Chiron ” Roet shouted across the clearing, “come ‘ere” the two walked quickly to Roet. Roet spoke first to Polidarius, “I would like yo to take your...apprentice, here, hunting. I will be coming with you. We will go north. Polidarius and Chiron looked more than happy. He observed the young men as they put their knives at their new belts which held up their loincloths.

Roet tapped his armor and watched the reaction. Chiron looked amazed by the metal, “What kind of wood is this made of?” he asked as they started making their way farther along, keeping in a general north direction. “It’s not wood, actually. It’s called metal, more exactly Steel...with some silver, I think..but anyways...” Roet cut himself off, “there’s something there...” he raised his knife, as did Polidarius. Chiron raised his knife a little late, but managed to be ready in time.

Just as all three started to throw, Roet knew something was wrong. Cutting off his throw at halfway, he shouted “HOLD ” And, miraculously, they both did. Iaso and Asclepias were completely stunned. They had obviously been kissing again, and would never have been able to defend themselves. Iaso barely managed to mutter, “Dear lord...” before fainting...

Roet rushed forward, but Asclepias caught Iaso, “Iaso.” he muttered, “what is wrong?” Roet, grabbed Iaso’s left upper arm and put it over his shoulder, “She probably needs water. Polidarius, Chiron, help Asclepias with his branches, let’s get back...”

About an hour later they walked back into the camp and Roet set Iaso down next to the fountain. He scooped some water out with his hands and poured it into her mouth. She coughed a few times and her eyes snapped open. She stood up quickly, "You three very nearly killed me!" Roet looked up at her; she was quite a bit taller, "But we didn't, you're fine." Iaso glared, then looked around at the others. They were all watching the smal group at the fountain. Roet snapped his fingers, "Move along, nothing to see here." They all casually looked away.

Roet turned back to Iaso, "listen. I've decided that I need you to do. You and Chiron are going travelling. With me. we'll leave tomorrow. Early tomorrow." Both nodded and walked off. Roet sighed, then turned his attention to the many branches they had managed to gather. Roet grabbed some and examined them, "Perfect!" He turned his attention back to Polidarius, who didn't seem to have anything to do, "Polidarius! come help me with this." Roet brought most of the sticks to the edge of the Once-Sanctuary, "Polidarius, we are going to make a very basic wall." he took one of the sticks and demonstrated ow to stick it in the ground, not without some grunts of effort, and make a simple fence to keep the animals in. Roet, with the help of Polidarius, managed to make a three-meter-squared 'pen' to hold the animals in. Roet was very pleased.

Roet stood above the Once-Sanctuary. He was overjoyed when he saw them all working in harmony. He watched Polidarius making a few more bone knives. He watched the younger girls as they chased Telesforos around. He watched Iaso send lustful looks at Asclepias. He watched as coronis made one last garment for herself, and he watched them all band together to make a fire. "I couldn't possibly have asked for a better group of people to lead to safety, and, eventually, victory..." he found himself muttering as he walked back into the Once-Sanctuary, "Apollo. a word, if you would." Apollo walked with Roet, "I think I need to teach you to read and write, so that you can record these great days, our wonderous beginning." Apollo smiled and nodded, "When will you teach me?" Roet smiled, "Right now."

He sat down on the dirt outside the Once-Santuary and scribbled a rough, capital 'A' in the ground as he told Apollo about the letters and how they came to be words, and words to senetences, and sentences to paragraphs, and paragraphs to books, and books to chronicles. It was late in the night before Apollo finally actually understood about words and minor sentences; they had been there for almost six hours. Roet wandered back to the camp and sat by the now roaring fire. Karykeion was sitting by the fire, holding a long stick, keeping the fire going. Roet sat beside him, "Many greetings, Karykeion. Having a good night?" Karykeion nodded solemnly. Roet looked at him enquiringly, "is something wrong?" Karykeiondidn't answer for a few moments, then shook his head. Roet sighed, "well, I'll watch the fires, you get some rest."

Nothing, a hard thing to imagine for it is not a black abyss of zero objects it is truly nothing. The term no space doesn't even due the word justice and there are no other words that can define it, all was simply nothing. Awareness then came, awareness of nothing granted but it came and that meant that no longer was this nothing it was something, a very small something but still a large step from nothing. Experience was the next thing to come along, how long it took this awareness didn't know for time had not come to be yet, at least that is what this awareness thought.
Conscious existence and a body came after some amount of time, and for the first time she could remember she opened her eyes. It was night yet she saw beauty, the moon illuminated everything and as she looked up she saw stars which she new could one day produce a planet just like this one. A vast desert lay bellow her and the feeling of falling entered her senses, it was an exhilarating feeling though she wanted it to stop and before the words of what she was doing entered her mind the two black wings on her back opened and caught the air and she felt calm.
"I've existed before this." She said flapping her wings and going higher into the air. She didn't want to touch the desert, it was still hot, it was barren, a place this void she wanted no part of. Her mind tried to think of a time before this but nothing solid came, only three rules which she new applied to herself and others. "I know my purpose." Was the second sentence that entered her and it over powered the first, suddenly the time she couldn't remember before falling didn't matter. All that mattered was her purpose and she could feel her purpose being born, that at least is the closest thing she can think that describes the feeling.
She would decide when this birth was complete, it could forever be in this labor which while beautiful was also painful in that it fought with every fiber to break free. So powerful was this she couldn't fight it, she needed to let her feet brush the surface below and it would be done, her purpose would be born and she could go on fulfilling it. But she couldn't land on the desert, it was so ugly and void, it must be done in a place that is beautiful and pure. Such a place appeared on the horizon and she new that it was one of the twelve places that the creatures know as humans were coming into life. That is where she would perform the birth and it was there her purpose would take its first accomplishment, one she would remember until she fell back into nothing if that time ever came again.
Using all her will she sped through the air towards the furthest north stone garden, one she new to be empty of other exiles and one she new that would be claimed as her own if ever she was to take one.
The speed she traveled at was incredible, she new it only took what she now new to be seconds for her task to be accomplished and yet it felt like a time much longer, the pain and joy of the suffering mixing into a thing she couldn't describe as anything else than beautiful. It was not an astonishing crash that brought her to the surface that caused the birth, no at the last possible moment she unfurled her wings, the wind pushing them back forcibly yet the speed was reduced enough so that the landing was soft,, the sound being that of grass bending under her bare feet.
Seconds past as she heaved each breath, exhaustion ready to bring her to the very place she was creating and finally as the creation reached it peak, she moaned with ecstacy, arching her back in the cosmic bliss, one last audible sigh of pleasure left her lips before she fell to the soft grass ad swooned in the pleasure of the moment. A smile spread across her face and she could feel the creation she made pulsing with life, a contradiction of purpose it might be but that is exactly how it felt.
It was not so simple as to exist in a place, no it was far more complicated than that and she was only happy that it had been her through which it was created, now it was her who was to fulfil its and her own purpose. It was a gate, a one way gate that led to what these humans would call the underworld and it was she and she alone who could guide their souls to it.
“Approach, I will not strike thee.” The Lady did not stir as the humans came from the shadows, shadows which she new not to be dangerous but the humans feared anyway. The white that glowed off her brought comfort to them and they, out of all the humans that existed in these stone gardens needed the most comfort.
Young were many of them and there were many more females than males, especially now with the incident of which had just occurred. The White Lady new it was because of her such a thing had happened, if she had landed in any other stone garden it would have happened there but it was this poor group of people which had been the first to suffer a thing which all humans and maybe even exiles will face one day; Death. The oldest of men came forward, he was covered in blood and in his arms was the body of a men very close to his stage of growth, age would usually be applied but all were the same age, some were just bigger and more developed than others.
“I...I hit him. With that.” he said on the verge of tears, pointing at a large rock which was still covered in blood. Certainly he had been crying before and The Lady felt guilt, for those seconds of murderous rage would never have taken hold of him had she not landed in this garden. But it had to happen, his sacrifice was necessary for the birth of the gate to be performed and it was no fault of his own, for she was the cause.
“Shhh.” The Lady said, getting up from the propped position she’d taken as the one with the dying man had approached. “It is not you fault, you were over come by powers far beyond yourself and this time, this time alone. None shall be held responsible for the act of murder.” They all seemed to understand and nodded, the man who’d performed the act laying the dying one of the grass before The Lady. To most he was already dead, for he did not stir and his breath did not rise and fall, though his heart did still beat and brain still functioned. It would not be long till death took him and only in millennia far from now would humans ever be able to stop such an injury from taking a life. Even then it would require much luck and skill for it to be successful.
The Lady touched the face of the killer and he cried even more as he stared into her eyes, the comfort he gained out of them he would not know until he was held in the arms of a lover or embraced by her once again when he died. “Do not burden yourself with anymore pain of this. You are innocent and have no cause for guilt. Only learn the lesson I have given you and all shall be well.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips and new she could take his life right then and there, so easy would it be. A tiny force of her will and it would be done, he would die quicker than the one he had struck, for her power was far beyond the simple application of a rock to a mans skull.
The purest smile of joy came to the mans face and one last tear left his eye and he was as all the others, curious as to what The Lady was going to do with the dead man. Going down on one knee she stroked the dying mans cheek , with that she used the power she new to be hers and hers alone, killing him and allowing his soul to become free from his body. “What happened to me?” He asked with no fear in his voice, curiosity was what belonged to his eyes and only the want for that knowledge made him look around to his frozen comrades. “Why don’t they move?” Was the second thing he asked, looking to The White Lady who was the only one who new the answer and the only one which he could trust.
“They are moving. You are just outside time and see the way the universe truly works. Think of it as you are moving and thinking much faster than them, even though that is not the true case it is the only rational way for your mind to make sense of it.” A generous smile came to her face and she new this one to be very intelligent. Had he not been the one to die his people would have learned much from his example and valued greatly from a source of untaped leadership.
“You are right. Should I try and think of it any other I should go mad...But why me? Why do I get to be like this and they don’t?” truly would he have been a great man to follow and watch over. Even in his lesser mind and weaker form she new he had more wisdom than some exiles would ever achieve.
“Because you have died. Your body was no longer able to sustain your life energy and it is my job to guide that energy to the Cunis Door, though it is really more a gate in my opinion.” he laughed a little at her kindness and smiled towards his people, thinking that it was unfair he should be able to go to such a place and experience life outside of time and they should be so greatly restricted by it. “They will join you one day, so do not worry that you are more fortunate than they. In time death will be feared beyond everything else and it will be only till steps before the gates shall I be able to truly calm some into accepting it.” Puzzled was his expression and even a man this wise couldn’t fathom as to why people would ever fear this. He was lucky, he would be the first to go and experience a thing none before had ever done. Not even the beautiful Lady before him has done this, she only guides him and in truth if one human shall never need guidance to the gates it will be him.
“Let’s not fret about what is to come though. I would say follow me but you know the way, so perhaps this one time I can just walk and be content in that it is just a stroll.” The Lady smiled and so did the man. No comfort was needed to be given for he truly excepted his fate and was happy to fulfil it along side such a beautiful creature.
Coming to the door they embraced at the beauty of it, passion surging through them both as their lips meant and arms grasped one another. They felt true beauty coming from the door and bliss enveloped them both as they enveloped one another. Being outside time it can not be said how long the embrace lasted, only that it was divine and truly the only time such a thing would happen before the gates. And it would be the only time that The Lady ever took a lover, a lover she might never meet again.
“Will you ever come through?” he asked with pleading eyes. He new the answer, it would not alleviate the pain he felt, a pain that would last something close to eternity.
“One day I hope so. Until then take care of those on the other side, knowing that I truly love them and that I truly love you above them all.” kissing one last time they left another to be alone for the eternity to come and with a surge of power The Lady felt herself grow stronger and she new no soul would ever again give her such strength.
“Burn his body and let him join the earth that you shall need to grow food from.” The Lady said speaking the humans, they only seeing her stand seconds after just brushing his face. If only they new what had just transpired they would not look so mystified and enormously unsatisfied with the display. She would teach them in time as to what happens when a person dies but that would have to be something that was dealt with later.
“Fire, you must start by gathering two rocks and dry grass as to which ignite. Hit the rocks together until a flash is made, let the flesh fall to the grass, when it catches feed it like you would yourselves by giving it wood rather than fruit and meat. Build this fire until it large enough to feed on a human, only the dead must be fed to the fire, only the dead.” they seemed happy now they had something to do and nodded with excitement and got to work on their tasks, each one helping the other and not questioning their orders. They weren’t advanced enough to question authority yet but The Lady could tell they would one day be a prosperous people.
Clothing was not something they needed for the moment, though far north it was a time of season that required they not be clothed even at night. The first winter would be one of the strongest of all winters but that was some time away and in that time The Lady would have much to teach and prepare them for that first trail against nature.
As she watched though The Lady began to wonder if she should take on her own people, for she was not responsible for only these people but those of the other stone gardens as well. Should one truly be dedicated to her when she had so many to look after, her first purpose was to take the souls to the gate and that was the one she would not fail in. Was it fair for her to assume that she could guide these people while having such a large responsibility to all the others?
“Please help me. Craftsmen I need your help.” she pulled the name from a place she did not know but it was the only she new which could truly help her. She’d done well she new, and was only in need of little guidance and then she could get on with her purpose, whatever else that might entail.

The Craftsman said nothing in response to her confident boast. His mustache merely lifted the slightest bit and he took her hand in his own spidery one. Wordlessly he carried her across the desert until they had come to the edge of an enormous valley. The earth here was cracked and broken before dipping down into a valley of brown earth. There was a familiar ring of stone right on the edge of it.

"You are the northernmost kingdom so far. Even now I'm sure that you can feel the cooler air here. This will be a temperate paradise where your people can flourish. That valley that you see beyond will be a sea in a mere century. The moment you all arrived here, I'm sure that you can sense the others, this planet drew it's first breath. Rivers have started trickling through the sand, released from the pools that have been opened in the stone gardens."

He stood for a brief moment, even as the wind whipped his coat awkwardly around his rigid frame. He made a gesture and the wall began to sink.

"These are your people, if you raise them well then they will become powerful. Now, in answer to your earlier question you may do whatever you want with these people. Slaughter them all if you want to. You will be granted a very temporary boost in power and then you will collapse, weakened to the point that even one of these weakened exiles could kill you without much effort." He turned to her, "I'm sure you're ready for all of it. You need merely give these people a sense of direction and they will achieve enormously. You do not have to babysit these whelps, not by any means." He turned from her. "I am sure that you will perform brilliantly, Ave. In one year's time you will hear a bell ringing, when that time comes you will know immediately where to go."

The craftsman turned, and was gone.

***

When he reappeared he grunted. "Back at the library, once again!" He harrumphed as he dusted himself off. He disengaged his long braid of a beard from his shoulder and frowned down at the sand that clung to his coat. When he was satisfied he payed attention to Nyx.

"Hello, dear!" He shouted warmly as he approached her. "I could feel your waiting earlier on." He stood straight and said importantly with a small flourish. "I'm the man you've been waiting for. I'm sure that you can find the small groups of people who are dotted all around the land. There aren't too many left now at this point, but there are a few if you would permit me to lead you."

Then, without waiting for an answer he grabbed her hand. "I apologize for the haste, but it appears that some of these frightened lambs are unable to grab what they want without my guidance." He laughed softly to himself. "No matter, no matter."

They landed in an unremarkable stretch of desert. "I know that this place is rather dreary and dull now, but you will be able to make it what you want. Your stone garden is the northernmost of all of them. You see that mountain?" He motioned to the single smooth mountain, barely a blip on the horizon. "That is our meeting place. In one year's time I will call you." He put his hand on the small of her back and gave her a small nudge forward. "Begin."

Devath
Crew

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Devath
Crew

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Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 10:34 pm

History of the Exiles Page Three Continued

And here it is. The scourge upon his desert. Doors guarded by two grotesque statues and a tower casting a simply huge shadow on the sand. How dare they. How dare they build this monstrosity here, blocking his sight and making him feel empty. Something has to be done.

He pushed open the great doors, confidently stepping in and not closing the door behind him. Even with the door open, it was dark. Very dark. Almost as if nothing here wanted to be seen in the first place. He stepped in further, his presence creating a small aura of light around him to see just a couple of feet ahead. What are these things around him? More structures holding strange... what are they? Bricks? He reached out to touch one. It was cold but also soft. These are strange bricks indeed. If they are all so soft like this, how does the structure hold itself up? Maybe these bricks make up the structure of the tower itself. Perhaps if he was to move them all or simply just destroy them, the tower will disappear and his desert will be perfect again.

But still, where is the person responsible for all this? There had to be someone that dwells here or what would its purpose be? He walked in further, now desperate to find some answers to the so many new questions he has. What is this place? Where has the sand gone? Why are you here? Why do you not leave?

There were oh so many trees here! Why had Eora not waken earlier? There was so much beauty, and so much space to skip and summersault and flip and be herself without worrying about harming someone! Something small and brown with a long, fluffy tail streaked past her, startling her.

It's a squirrel! something shouted in her mind. Rediscovering the world was amazingly fun to the youth. If someone had been walking by, she would've stiken them as weird, seeing as she looked no older than a fifteen year old human girl. Eora also had the mentality of one, so when she slammed into a hge rock wall, indignity was all that one could possibly sense from her.

"Stupid wall!" she cried, lashing out at it. "Stupid wall got in the way of my skipping! All I was doing, was skipping! I didn't hurt the wall, did I? NO! I was just skipping and minding my own freaking business when the stupid wall jumped out of no--"

"Stop, shut up guys, I hear someone!" A voice could be heard on the other side of the wall. Eora immediately shut up and stood up to hear it better.

"Go check it out."

"No, I'm not going to! Make him!"

"Me? No, they're completely insane."

"Yeah, they were talkin' to themselves!"

"Shut up guys, maybe it's who we're supposed to be waiting for."

"You think so?"

"I hope not."

"Hello?" Eora finally called out. All conversation ceased immediately, and she felt quite proud of herself. They were afraid of her. Well, fear does add up to power, does it not? But then again, she wanted them to trust her. Because, that was what she was supposed to do. She cleared her throat so she could talk louder. "Where is the entrance?"

"It's over here!" a new voice called out. It was farther than the others had been, so fainter, and she had to strain to hear it. Eora smiled and skipped over to the voice, knowing where to go as it got louder. "It's over here, I don't know how to open it though! It seems like you can only get in!"

Of course it's like that, Craftsman made it like that, you little-- Wait.... Who the hell is Craftsman??? Eora shrugged the thought away as she came up on the doors. Giant, wooden doors with oddball designs on them. As she stared, she noticed that to her they looked like giant eyes, huge, maddening eyes.... And smiled again.

She pushed open the door with much unneeded force. They swung open easily, so she fell onto her face.When she looked up, there were others there, about five like her, and maybe five or six like her, but different. The different ones had a different body build. You are a woman, Eora. Those are men. Again, confused at how she knew this, she cocked her head to the side, but stood up.

"Are you who we've been waiting for?" one of the women asked. Upon inspection, Eora noticed they had no clothes on. It was quite awkward once you noticed the differences between the two, but to them, Eora's giggle was just plain random.

"I-.... I don't know. I think so. I think you're what I've been skipping to. But I don't know......"

Ember grew tired of teaching his people. He didn’t wish to consort with them any longer, and so ignored them when they came up with what few questions they would dare ask the Fire and Hate Exile. He merely stood, watching the land change all about them. The world was flooding into something new and more intertwined, it was a great thing to behold. Ember rather disliked the rivers, though. Coming all through his land uninvited, he vowed he would find a way to curb their growth. As he stood with his arms crossed over his flaming chest, thinking hateful thoughts, his people behind him kept at their backbreaking work.

His people knew nothing that was not necessary for them. They each had their own job, #30 was a hunter, #9 was a tool maker, and so on down that line. Everything was done with the utmost efficiency, the people barely knowing of things like breaks and rest and true happiness. In fact, many of them thought this was happiness, to serve Ember dutifully. He was a strange and uncaring master, but they knew him as powerful. They were the people of the flame, revering fire above all else, and they would not allow their righteous flame to be snuffed out by any of the other primitive civilizations. Ember had assured them of those lesser people’s desire to take what they have, rape their women, and slaughter their men. Ember’s people, the people of the inferno, believed him wholeheartedly in time.

His people were in the stone age, as everyone’s people on the young earth were at this point, but were making startling progress towards the bronze age. They made crude wooden tents and stone tools and weapons(though they had nothing to fight, their primitive xenophobic attitude demanded it). As they went about their day’s work, Ember finally grew bored of watching the horizon. He went around, teaching his people what he felt like revealing to them. They learned quickly, eager at the opportunity and knowing they would not get the chance to ask questions. Many of Embers lessons were short, direct, and harsh, if you did not understand what he said the first time then you never would. Ember hated repeating himself. He taught his people not only of how to survive, but of the glory of fire and the folly of all others on Earth. When one person learned of something knew, he would immediately go about to sermonize it to the others. In a year’s time, they would be fully the way Ember envisioned them, fanatically zealous in their manner and hateful in their doings. Now they were but shells of their future selves, merely taking on the base qualities of what he wished them to be.

In the middle of their camp of wooden tents was a large bonfire surrounded by a ring of stones, kept burning merely by Ember’s will that it do so. Growing bored of checking up on his people, he broke off his inspection and allowed the people to keep at their tasks by themselves. He was already tired of this, wasting his breath teaching these primitive people. They learned quickly, but in only two days there was a limit to what you could do. He deeply wished to know if there was another civilization out there vying for power with his. Perhaps there were others, even more cunning than him.
Ember quickly erased that thought. What a stupid idea, there were none as cunning as him. He would hate any that thought differently.
Ember could feel them out there, yet he could not feel their intent. He did not know with proof that his people were the most advanced, the most efficient, the strongest. The man of fire stood thinking it over for a few more minutes before growing bored of that topic as well and moving on.

He went back to his rounds, watching over his people and teaching them what he wished to.

It was certainly a while until everyone else had awoken and by that time Amelia and the girl had gathered food for everyone. Some of the children had already started to play with one each other and by the time they were tired, everyone else had awoken.

She handed out the apples with the girl and nodded while everyone else ate. "Now then," She said, gaining everyone's attention, "Today you all get names." They all starred at her for a moment before smiling. "Of course, I want you to choose the name you want." They all starred at her, they had thought she was going to pick them for them.

She blinked and starred at them. "You all have an idea as to what to name yourselves, right?" They looked to each other and she sighed. "Okay, I'll each give you a name," they all looked to her, "although from now on, you name your children. Okay?" She smiled and they nodded. "Alright then!"

She looked at the group of people before her. There were about five women and six men. Two females were just children, as were there two male children. The other three females were more like young adults, or perhaps older children. There were three males about the same age as well. The odd one out was the older male who seemed to be late in his thirties or older.

She nodded. "Alright, children first." The four children stepped up to her, all smiling. The pointed to the two girls first, "Sarah and Elane." They looked to each other and nodded. It seemed as though they liked the names. Then she pointed to the boys, "Mark and Nicolas." They smiled and went off to play with the two girls.

The older children, or young adults, stepped up next. She looked to the three girls. It seemed as though they were best friends already. She pointed to them, "Ildri, Chelsea and.." She looked to the shyer girl whom she had been with early in the morning, "Aya." The girl looked to her and the girls all smiled and dragged Aya off. She pointed to the young men and sighed, it was harder than it looked to name people. "Johnathan, or John for short, Blake and Damien." They nodded and backed up a bit.

All that was left was the older man. He stepped forwards and spoke, "I have a name for myself." Amelia smiled and nodded to him. "I'd like to be named Alexander."

"Okay then!" She yelled out, surprising everyone a little as they came back. She ignored their reactions and went on. "I have decided a name for this place. This village, this town, will be called, 'Laeray'." They all starred at her for a moment and then cheered. It seemed that had raised their spirits, if not slightly.

"Now then," Her smile almost completely gone, "Let's get back to business." They all nodded and she went on. "There is a lot to do today. If at all possible, I would like you to do your best and get as much done as you can." She looked around and up to the sun. It seemed as though it was nearing noon. "Blake, could you please help Alexander with putting out the fire. We won't be needing it until dark." They nodded and went to it.

She turned back to the others. "The children," She pointed to them, "Will be helping me today and must stay near me unless other wise. Alright?" They smiled and nodded. She turned back to the girls. "Chelsea, Ildri, Aya, I'm going to teach you how to make clothes, or blankets. Things that will help us keep warm at night."

She looked to John and Damien. "As for you two, once Alexander and Blake are done with the fire, you are to find as much wood as you can in the surrounding area. You will bring that wood back to the fountain and from there I will tell you what to do next." They nodded and went off as Amelia went with the children and the women.

"making clothes isn't the easiest things to do. To make them, you need a lot of patience. I'm trusting you," She looked to them all with a smile, "to be as patient as you can." They nodded to her and they came to the sheep. She smiled to the children, "Please bring me the sharpest rocks you can find." They nodded and ran off.

Amelia explained to the women how the sheep would give them wool to use to make the clothes from. To cut the wool off, they would need the sharp rocks. In a little while the sheep would regrow the wool and they could do the steps over again. The children had come back shortly after and Amelia showed them where to cut and how much to leave on.

It wasn't until noon time that the women, a boy and girl where busy cleaning the wool and making it into string. As well, Amelia had showed the men how to build a fence with the wood and how to make simple weapons with the left over wood and sharp rocks. She had told them that tomorrow they would go out hunting. For now they were to watch over the animals and watch for anything outside of the village.

The other two children were with her so that she could have help growing some planets that would give them food and herbs that would heal any of them encase of injury. As well, she was collecting sticks along the way so they could grow some more trees.

It was rather difficult to grow things after the first garden and the trees but she only guessed that it meant she had a limit to how much she could grow in one day. She had stopped shortly after a small garden had been grown and a tree or two were grown.

By now, near the southern part of Laeray there was a garden with a small fence around it, a tree not too far away to block out the burning rays of the sunlight and a few flowers. To the north there was a rather large area for the animals to roam around in with a tree there for them to rest under when it got too hot as well for the men who were watching over them. In the center of the entire area there was the fountain and not too far away from that, a fire pit with a stack of wood and a large apple tree.

The women and children with the wool had managed to get the wool off and clean it up. Later in the night, when the clean wool was dry, they were going to start to turn it into string. Amelia was rather pleased with what she had managed to do in one day. She guessed it had been because everyone else had wanted to do their best.

She started to hum her song again as everyone rested near the fire pit. They all smiled and listened to it with great interest. It seemed all was going well.

God DAMMIT! Toucan hissed as a slender, spidery hand flew up to one hazel eye. A blast of wind, so random and common to the desert, had caused a flurry of sand, one particle of which was now nestled quite contently in her lid. Rubbing furiously, the mechanic refused to submit to reason and blink it out, instead desperately trying to relieve herself of the minor irritation. Somehow Toucan managed this and quickly flipped down the cover of her goggles down with a snap, as if to punish whatever part of her had had the brilliant idea of taking them off for a moment anyway.

Sighing, settling back from her ruffled appearance, the exile stared with a foggy expression at the expanse around her. She had climbed up to one of the towers of the library and sat straddling a rail, one leg swinging dangerously out hundreds of feet from the ground, one remaining rooted safely on the platform.

Toucan was in a brooding mood. This was evidenced by her right hand working endlessly over a small piece of metal, one which she had sheared so thin that it could be warmed enough to bend simply by holding. She shaped it into different shapes, none of which she was particularly aware of since her thoughts were elsewhere.

Still a fledgling, Toucan found herself insecure, confused, and isolated. She as unsure of what, exactly, she was supposed to do or even what had happened before she found herself here. Were there others like her? Were they hostile? She felt an approaching sense of anxiety, as though she were supposed to do some grave duty, but had no idea what this duty was.

Unable to sit still amongst the torrent of thoughts, the mechanic slipped off the railing and to the platform, wandering aimlessly down the stairs to the main section of the library. Toucan nodded amicably to the librarian, still unsure of him, and slowly, aimlessly strode out of the complex.

The sand of the desert covered her simplistic shoes but she didn't particularly mind. Instead she kept striding out, finding the sand sloshed like water about her. A deep sense of longing overtook Toucan, and this drove her onward into the desert. What specifically she wanted she was unsure of, but she had a feeling it had to do with finding others like herself.

The Craftsman.

That was the name that came instantly, fluidly to Nyx's mind as the gnarled and ancient bearded figure appeared before her. The last fogs of obscurity fled at once, to be replaced by clarity of recognition. She remembered.

However, she was given no chance to act on this fresh flood of memory. Her hand was grabbed, and before she could do little more than part her lips in a little 'o' of surprise, the scenery before them had blurred and faded in the twinkling of an eye, to be replaced by a fresh stretch of shifting golden and russet-hued sand. Almost the instant her feet were securely on ground once more, she was already casting her gaze around her surroundings, drinking them in.

The Craftsman was speaking now, and she listened, absorbing his words. Yes, she understood now. She was sculptor and artist, and this was her canvas, her unhewn block of marble. Hers to nurture and raise, to uplift to its full potential. Her heart grew light within her at the thought.

Turning to face the Craftsman, she inclined her head before him in a gesture of respect, before straightening up once more to give him a soft but radiant smile. "Thank you," she said softly. Her voice was low, husky and melodious. "I will."

And with that, she turned her back on him, and stepped forward towards the circle of stone within which awaited her people.

The ground shook slightly as she neared, and with a rumbling and grinding of stone, the walls shuddered and descended into the ground. Exposed to the rest of the world now, no longer isolated and enclosed, lay the garden. Green and fertile, with pastel-coloured grass strewn with the occasional trees, patches of shrubby and rocky crags.

And in the center, a small huddle of people. Their expressions were wary, their eyes large with a mixture of wonder and fear. She could not blame them. She could only imagine what it was like to be laid bare all of a sudden to a wide, unfamiliar world one had neither experience of nor skills to deal with. In their place, she would likely have reacted much the same.

The silence seemed to stretch interminably as she came to a stop some feet away from the small group. A few more moments passed as they regarded each other in silence, then, she inclined her head once more as she had done to the Craftsman, and spoke.

"We meet at last, my people." She had carefully kept her tone kind, and it seemed to have the desired effect. An answering ripple seemed to flow through the people before her as she spoke, and the tension in the air relaxed and dissipated. Awarding them a small smile, she continued "I am Nyx, and from hereon, I shall be your Leader. I am not a master, but a guide; I will teach you what I know, but more importantly, I shall try to give you the skills you need to make your own decisions and cope with this world on your own. The journey shall not be easy, for there is much to be learnt and many obstacles to be overcome. Still, I am confident that we shall persevere. Will you accept my guidance?"

Whispers erupted among the assembled people as she finished, heads turning to gaze at one another in search of confirmation, guidance, opinion. Nyx took the opportunity to further gaze upon them and take in the details her first survey had missed. There were thirteen in total, she saw, ranging in age from a sandy-haired and rosy-cheeked child of perhaps six winters, to a middle-aged man with a craggy, weathered face.

At length, the babble of conversation amidst the group died down, and the heads turned to face her once more. A young woman with long black tresses and intelligent brown eyes, who seemed to have been elected spokesperson, stepped forward. She bowed in an awkward mimicry of Nyx's own motion, before speaking, hesitantly "We...we shall follow." Her words were awkward at first, stumbling over each other like newborn lambs, but they rapidly gained strength and speed as she rushed to continue "We will follow, and learn, for there is much that we wish to know." And true enough, the light of thirst for knowledge was evident in her brown eyes. Nyx had not missed it.

She was unable to restrain another muted smile. "So be it," she said in her soft, melodious voice. "As your guide then, the first warning I must give you is to not stray beyond the boundaries of this enclosure of green. Already springs and brooks seep through the earth, and the harsh desert grows tame under their caress, but it is still much too forbidding for you to venture out into. There will be time to spread, and time to cultivate, but for now, you must restrict yourselves."

As she spoke, she began to move around the garden with small, poised steps, and the humans followed as if mesmerized. "The next thing I will teach you," she continued. "Is the concept of names. Names do not limit a thing, nor do they define it, but they serve as something to identify it by and give it a sense of being. That--" She raised her hand to point to a gnarled pear blossom tree that overhung a shallow pool at the western edge of the garden. "--is a tree. The substance beneath it is water. I am Nyx. You too, will need to take names for yourselves before you can begin to realize who you are."

"Will you give us these names, Lady Nyx?" The question had been from one of the men in the group, and Nyx paused momentarily in her discourse, a little surprised by the title. That surprise was soon replaced by gratification. They grew fast, these people of hers. Already they were assimilating, grasping language and modes of behavior and address. They were like young shoots growing towards the sun, and she could not but delight in their progress.

"I could," she replied softly. "If you so wish it. But I would rather not. Far better, I deem it, for you to choose names for yourself. They will bear more meaning that way. You do not have to choose this instant--" This kindly aside was directed at the little boy, who had screwed up his face and assumed an expression of prodigous concentration, as if he wished to wring a name from thin air. "--but rather, when it comes naturally to you."

She waved her hand once more around the verdant enclosure. "There is, as you said, much to learn. Let us begin."

_______________

That evening, Nyx sat on a rock by the pool, and watched her people move about the garden with purpose. Their growth was, as she had already observed, prodigious. They grasped at the slightest bits of information, greedily taking in every stray scrap of advice she had to offer.

She had begun by walking once around the garden and pointing out the names of every sundry thing that came to her mind. This had not satisfied them long, and soon the naming session had extended to the skies, the desert, the mountains painted faintly against the horizon, even the sun and wisps of speckled cloud. This had been followed by questions about the nature of their Garden, and the world outside.

Of the latter, she had restricted the information she had to give. Not only because her own knowledge was still limited, the world still having to take much of its shape, but because she did not wish to overwhelm her new people with more revelations than they could take in at once. So, she had quietly hushed their questions and merely explained instead that the world was new, and still-forming, and that they would in time grow in strength and numbers and be free to explore it.

Though she could gladly have whiled away the day in receiving and answering these questions, simply revelling in the joy of watching the process of learning and growth, Nyx acknowledged that practical considerations had also to be taken into account. Therefore, the next few hours had been devoted to the basics of survival. She had instructed them on how to snap twigs from the bushes that dotted the enclosure, and fashion a simple bow that could be used to create friction, and give life to a spark that was greedily devoured by gathered dry grass and leaves. While the dark-haired girl had seemed most taken by this device, and knelt determinedly by a pile of dry fodder working the bow furiously until she had a small blaze alight, the young man who had spoken earlier had soon seemed to lose patience with the tedious operation. He had wandered off to a corner of the garden, and much to her surprise and pleasure, had discovered on his own that two stones struck together also produced a leaping spark.

Once a small fire crackled and blazed merrily in the center of the garden, ringed with protective rocks to prevent its spread, the next obstacle that had awaited them was that of gathering food. Nyx had taken special care to instruct them on this one. After showing them the simple berries and herbs that could be foraged from the small vegetation in the garden, she had stepped quietly over to the small herd of sheep that bleated and jostled for space in a corner. Laying her hand gently on one woolly head, she had spoken.

"These animals you may use for food, for their flesh is nourishing and gives strength once properly cooked over the fire. Do not, at any time however, cease to regard them as your playthings, or take them for granted. They are living souls of no less worth than your own, and while it is necessary for you to kill to eat, do so with the utmost respect for the sustenance that they offer you in exchange of their own lives. Do not sully them, and above all, do not kill for pleasure.

"Bear the last well in mind, for a time may come when you are brought into contact with people from other Domains, other Gardens. They may be friendly, they may be not. Conflict may erupt over land, property, and other sundry posessions. Remember then, that while it is only natural that you protect that which is yours, do not kill unless it is unavoidable. Murder is a grievous sin that I would not have my people commit."

She had left them to their own devices for a while after this, feeling that this momentous revelation needed time to properly sink in. And she had been quite right, for it was some time before the agitated murmuring had died down, and more than one person had come forth with questions. Would these conflicts occur soon? What if these other people were stronger? She had soothed their doubts to the best of her ability, assuring them that they were no weaker nor stronger than any people in any domain, and that it was unlikely that they would come into contact with them before a small span of years had passed. The world was still vast, and humans few.

It was evening now, and the sky was rapidly growing velvety and overcast as the sun dipped to its resting place beyond the horizon. Tired from a day's worth of momentous activity and learning, her people had settled themselves around the garden, finding spots against boulders, under trees or stretched out around the fire that still leapt and danced with tongues of flame in the center. The little boy was already yawning.

From her vantage point on the smooth rock under the pear tree, Nyx could feel only gratification at the sight. Already, her mind was busy with plans for the following day. Tomorrow perhaps, she thought, she would begin to teach them the rudiments of clothing. After that would come the fashioning of basic tools and the division of duties, such as tending the animals or gathering fuel for the fire. Once these vital necessities were seen to, they would need to learn to construct shelters for themselves to protect them against the harsh elements. In all, the ground they had covered seemed miniscule in comparison to that which still lay undealt with. It was a daunting task, but she did not flinch.

Night had fallen upon them now. Casting her eyes across the tired humans, she moved one hand and slipped it into the sleeve of her silken robes. When she withdrew it, a slim silver flute was gripped in her fingers. It was a delicate instrument, etched with spiralling whorls that managed to still give the impression of simplicity, rather than ornamentation.

This seemed to arouse the interest of Marina--for that was the name the dark-haired girl had chosen for herself around noon--who had until then been laying stretched out by the fire, head propped up on one hand and gazing thoughtfully into the depths of the flames. Transferring her gaze to the instrument, she asked "What is that, Lady Nyx?"

"A flute." Nyx smiled. "It can produce music, in the hands of someone who knows how to use it." When this elicited only slightly confused looks, she smiled softly once more and asked "Would you like me to play for you?"

Murmurs of faint enthusiasm came at once from around the garden, and so, she closed her eyes and lifted the instrument to her lips. Picking out the notes with unerring accuracy, her fingers moved over the holes, weaving a series of lilting notes. They wove together, merging into a song that was simple yet sweet, low and calming with a haunting vein of emotion and pathos running through its core. As the notes drifted across the darkened garden, the eyes of the listeners grew heavy and their minds calm. Before long, the sounds of their breathing had grown even and they had drifted into blissful sleep.

And then only the sound of the flute was left, weaving through the newly-born currents of air to be carried across the land, and echo faintly even to the reaches of the other gardens.

Several hours of walking had rendered the exile rather irritable if not outright irate. Although her stamina was considerably more long-lasting than a regular being, Toucan felt parched, sunburnt, and tired. The sun was setting now, and while that brought the relief of the scorching temperatures, the burning star on the horizon made everything disorientingly contrasted.

The mechanic no longer paid attention to which direction she was wandering in-- she supposed she didn't have much of a destination anyway. Her steps were heavy and clumsy, kicking up sand in every which direction. It crept into every fold and crevice of her clothes and skin and the previously clean linen shirt, pants, and jacket she wore took on a tannish hue.

It was difficult now to think coherently so Toucan left her mind to idle over the surroundings, taking them in in an abstract fashion which was appropriate since the combination of odd lighting and her exhausted state made them appear quite abstract.

Having relatively little introduction save a short conversation with the librarian when she first arrived, Toucan was unaware of any responsibilities or duties she may have. She was even unaware of her own aptitude with mechanics and especially metal in particular, assuming since it came so naturally to her that it was something everyone was good at. The mechanic was relatively surprised at the few machines and metal around for this reason and had at one point in the day resolved to fix that. This resolve was remembered now as her hand slipped habitually to her pocket to toy with the thin shearing of metal.

Toucan had previously been only semi-aware of the sounds of the desert-- namely the howling wind, slithering sand, and soft sounds of her own footsteps, but all of a sudden something seemed out of place. She wasn't sure what it was, since she hadn't been paying attention, but experienced a similar sensation to that one has when startled from slumber by a sound-- unaware of what the sound was, but conscious that it occurred. The mechanic paused and strained to hear if it'd come again and to her delight it did. Lilting and far-off, Toucan heard for the first time in her conscious existence music.

Unsure of what it was but charmed by it, the exile quickly reoriented herself toward the source of the sound. Her steps were cautious and frequently interrupted for she would pause every time a strain of the music came to her on the wind to listen to it.

Eventually a structure made itself apparent on the swiftly darkening horizon and Toucan squinted her eyes behind her goggles to make it out. She had been unaware up until that point that there were any structures except for the library and her face was alight with curiousity.

She had little energy left to run, but managed to pick up her stride to a swift trot toward the settlement. Unaware that this was a garden of one of the exiles, or that she should even have her own, Toucan was unsure of what to expect but assumed there would be someone else there. Perhaps someone like herself?

Zephyr was moving over the barren land quickly. She did not fly all that much instead she ran up big boulders and threw herself out to glide forward. The landscape rush away as she moved. She had no set goal for now but something in her mind told her that there was other beings living and breathing far away.
The wind swept across the plains and Zephyr fell into the running and soaring once more.

Her journey went across the land and over the hills.
She ran until there were no hills to glide down from and boulders to climb. The land the spread out in front of her was vast and open. Here the wind blew freely ruffling the grass.
She turned around and watched the stone walls that she had passed without really thinking.
The plains that were here felt like home, even if she never had a home before.

She pressed on to see this land. When she had walked on she met living creatures that was spread out on the ground. Some of them had fur and big horns other were much smaller and had ears that reminded of her own. But their fur was not green and they did not walk around on their hind legs.

But the one creature that caught her attention was a pale bunch of things that had begun to stir as soon as she had came closer. They sat up and they looked around. They shivered in the wind and hide their faces in their hand to shield themselves from the sun rays. These strange beings were in need of guidance. Zephyr knew that it was her duty to lead them to a life where they could manage on their own.

Suddenly eyes with many colours turned towards her as an unspoken agreement told them who to listen to. None of them spoke but they had that look in their eyes that said that they were hungry for knowledge.
They scurried closer as to get a better look at the creature that could give those answers. A man was first in front of Zephyr and stood up in his full length. He was almost twice as tall as the winged creature and this made Zephyr feel uneasy.

The man stretched out his arms to touch her but that was too much. Zephyr jumped into the air and hit the man over the arm with her claws. The man pulled his hand back and grabbed his left arm. Three long cuts were bleeding just beneath his shoulder. The human flinched and pulled back. Zephyr landed on the exact spot she had just been standing only a moment earlier. “Down!”
Her voice cut sharp and clears through the crowd and they all crawled down on the ground. The man with the wounds did the same but he whined and sobbed from the pain.

Now that they all were lower than her she felt better again. Zephyr looked out on the people who’s faces had gone from greedy curiosity to fear. They would indeed need some guidance and knowledge.

Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 10:48 pm

History of the Exiles Page Four

Once upon a time, there was Nothing.

A blank, a void, a lack thereof. Nothing had no color, no shape, no form. Intangible would be the best way to describe it.

And then, there appeared something. A spark, a tiny, insignificant pinpoint of light. This light grew and grew until it filled the Nothing. White-hot, it pulsated blue waves over and over again. From nowhere the Three Laws echoed. The words embedded themselves into the light, which looked more like a ball of star-fire now. Beautiful little sparks emanated from it, energetic and with a life of their own. Some of the larger sparks whizzed about the light, entering and reentering it, until finally there was a soul. Each spark granted something new - consciousness, knowledge, feeling - and when it could grow no longer, the soul zipped towards the planet, trailing radiant light. An envelope formed from the speed, making the soul look like a shooting star, heading straight for what, it didn't know.

With purpose, it broke through the layers of the atmosphere, downward and forward towards the beginning of its mission. Vaguely, it knew it purpose, what it had to do. The Three Laws rang from within it, governing its thoughts and fragmented memories into a mind and will. Knowledge poured in from everywhere, and by the time it reached the stratosphere, it understood.

Like a meteor, it crashed into the side of the planet, creating a small crater on the side of a green hill. Upon contact with the soil, it shattered into numerous orbs of light, floating and spiraling upwards. In the wake of its sparks, a woman came into being. Transparent at first, she became more and more opaque as the sparks painted out her appearance. She was taller than average, with pale skin and delicate features. Short, astonishing blue hair framed her face, and her closed lashes were long and thick. Some of the sparks ran across her body and left a light garment in their wake. It was white, and backless, with many folds. A slit went above the mid thigh on both sides, although it only became apparent if she walked. Gold rings held the front of her dress to her neck, and a golden rope was tied about the middle to keep it together. Gold bracelets and anklets provided for most of the accessories, left there by the larger orbs, two on her right ankle, one on right wrist, and three on her left wrist. A gold and silver circlet rested on her head, and a black tattoo wrapped around her right forearm. Bare feet touched the dirt underneath.

Finally, their work done, the bits of light converged into a small, glowing ball. It spun breifly, like a flaming blue and white top, before plunging into the woman's chest. In the same instant, azure eyes snapped open, seeing for the first time. She inhaled deeply and tested her tender lungs, a small smile forming on her full lips. She waited a bit for the final thoughts and broken memories to settle, before assessing her current form.

First, she lifted her arms, moving her joints and examining the way her fingers curled and uncurled. She passed a hand on her cheeks and face and pulled a few strands of hair in from of her eyes so she could look at it. Then she attempted to take a step forward, only to fall flat on her face. Shakily, she rose to her feet. It was easy for her to stand, at least. For the next 15 minutes or so, she tested her legs, and got the hang of walking.

It suddenly occured to her that she looked younger than before - well before what she wasn't sure.

The Three Laws still reberverated in her ears, but she paid it no mind. She felt as if she had done this before, and she knew what she had to do next. She turned towards where she felt the Library was. At that moment, she was tempted to go and read and explore to her heart's content. But she tore herself away, instinct telling her that she was late - that she was behind. She could feel others like her close by, doing what she was supposed to be doing right now. She needed to find a Garden of her own. Although she was unsure of how she knew all this, she contented herself with having a purpose.

But she had no idea where her Garden was. Sitting, she closed her eyes and thought. She remembered that she could do extrodinary things . . . that someone had told this to her . . . The Craftsman. But she didn't need him to find her Garden. She needed to know who she was. She tapped her lips with a finger. She was . . . She was an Exile. An Exile that ruled over Wisdom, the Arts, and all manner of Languages. And what was her name? She wasn't sure.

Sighing, she resolved that further deliberation would be pointless, and so, delved to test out one of her powers. He said she could turn into anything she wanted. Breathing deeply, she formed a picture in her mind of what she wanted to be. And then, slowly, she took its form. Sliver and blue scales wrapped themselves about her skin. Her arms and legs grew shorter, and fingers and toes merged together into talons. She shrank, too, and a scaled tail extended itelf from her tailbone. Her face elongated, forming a fiercely fanged mouth with a snakelike tongue. Her ears became more pointed and her brows more defined. Before long, she had taken the appearance of a blue serpentine dragon, a little more than 5 feet in length. She was slightly disappointed, thinking that there was more to her power, but smiled nonetheless in her dragon form. Then she took the the sky, slinking through the air coming naturally to her.

With each passing moment, she remembered more and more about her mission, the test of The Craftsman. Having control of Wisdom, previous facts and feelings came to her quickly and without too much effort. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had done this before, but she couldn't remember where, or why she had stopped. She vaguely remembered a little about the Exiles in general, too. But she didn't know how.

Her gray dragon eyes kept a lookout on for 'empty' Gardens below. The landscape whizzed by quickly, but she could see numerous cultivated Gardens. One with a half-fence, another in the mountains, another with a small collection of plants growing, and another with humans hard at work . . . The pools had already started to sprout rivers and streams, and the wasteland slowly, but surely, started to harbor plantlife. She could see the gleam of fish in the water. This world was shaping up nicely, but . . . Where was her Sanctuary?

Ember stood tall and proud, looking over his people as they went about their labors. They toiled in what they were doing, #43 and #32 having especial difficulty cutting down a rather large tree with their simple axes. They nervously tried their best, but the flimsy tools of stone were not cutting it, figuratively and literally. Ember could have simply burned out the last bit that remained with little effort, but his powers were not for such trivial matters. He hated trivial matters.

So tired were the people, yet they worked on in their decided trade. They not only feared to let Master Ember down, but they were bound by a strong sense of duty to serve faithfully for him. Their mindset was not by accident of course, Ember didn’t wish to rely upon fear solely. Those who did were to… well, not be hated. He rather hated the ones that used fear not at all more than those that depended upon it solely.

A voice swept over the land, calling for the ruler of the kingdom, calling for the mighty inferno named Ember. His people jumped at the noise, frightened and believing that this was the onset of an attack Ember had told them of. Many of the men ran into their tent-homes and grabbed their stone daggers and sharp tools, trying to be ready for what would come.
Ember turned about to the direction in which Jikrae stood, sensing him clearly now but still not knowing his name nor purpose. Stalking off, his footprints burning behind him yet again, his bloodshot eyes found the intruder quickly.

“Who are you that calls the name of Ember?” Ember’s voice came, wailing and wavering and echoing outward. He looked over the thing, hating everything about the exile for no real reason whatsoever. His bloodshot eyes, the only thing clearly visible of his burning face, betrayed nothing(if indeed eyes alone could betray anything in the first place). His eternal fire, on the other hand, grew with his fury, the flames licking out towards the sky as his big crisped arms hung at his side, hands clenched into fists.

Amelia finished her song and everyone clapped and a few cheered. It seemed as though this was a tune that everyone liked. As well, it seemed to bring a positive attitude to the group. "Well then," She stood up and brushed herself off as other looked to her surprised. They weren't expecting her to stand up. "It seems as though the fire should start soon, no?" She smiled to Alexander and he quickly went to work on it.

They all continued to look at her. "Aya, Ildri, Chelsea, would you mind continuing with the wool now? Before it gets too late, I'd like to take Blake, Damien and John for a short walk." She smiled to them and they nodded back to her, standing up and running off to collect their weapons. "We'll be back shortly but for any reason you need me, just call." She smiled to them and waved slightly before heading after the men.

This was the perfect time to teach them how to use their weapons as well as scout for the new lakes and rivers she had a feeling were around here somewhere. She wasn't sure why she knew, let alone how she knew, that they were around here, but if she could find the river, then from there she'd be able to grow more trees with less hardship.

It seemed as though the more water that was used to grow the trees, the less strain she had on herself and it meant she could grow many more things. It also seemed that grass grew around the trees after they had been grown. She guessed that with the water nearby, she would be able to create a rather small forest which could be used to gather wood to build shelter. She didn't think they'd be able to continue sleeping outside for much longer. Especially if it decided to rain. If they were out during a thunderstorm, she was afraid for the children, not to mention everyone else.

"Here's good." She called out the Blake, Damien and John and they stopped and looked back.

"Shouldn't we go farther out?" John asked, looking around. They weren't that far away from Laeray. They could still see the fire and perhaps a silhouette or two every now and then. As well, the apple tree was still in view.

"Here's fine. If anything happens, we'll be able to head back there quickly. It's your job to protect them after all." She smiled to them. For some reason she had the feeling as though other exiles were around. She trusted her extinct. Although the first one she met seemed nice, she wasn't too sure of the others. People came in many shapes and forms with many personalities. Some good, some bad. She only assumed the same thing for exiles. Each of them were different in their own way. Due to that, each of them must have a different personality and not all would be like herself or Roet.

They nodded, half trusting her words. She smiled to them all still and started to feel tension and quickly coughed. "Now then!" They jumped, expecting her to be somewhat more quiet. "These weapons," She pointed to the spears they had. The spears were made out of strong oak branches, sharp stones and vines that she had managed to grow for them. "They are used to protect others and yourselves. They are also weapons to kill. The stones are always to be sharp and this weapon is not a toy." She didn't know how much more she could stress this fact. "Let no one other than yourselves use it. If, in a situation where you cannot use it, lend it to another. Never to a child though. I'm sure Aya, Chelsea, Ildri and Alexander would not use these things rashly. For that reason, hide them from the children when you can. Whenever you are on duty, please carry them around with you. Unless nessicsary, do not allow the rest to use them for you alone have the training." They nodded in reply.

Blake spoke up this time though, "What do you mean by 'duty'?"

"Ah..." Amelia smiled, "Well, since past the green area is dangerous unless with me, you never know what could be out here while everyone else sleeps. For that reason, you three share night watches. I will be as well tomorrow night but since I stayed up all last night doing so," she smiled, "I'm rather tired." For some reason the three didn't believe that, although Damien did notice that she seemed to be doing a lot of work, overexerting herself. Damien nodded and Blake and John decided to nod as well.

Amelia continued to smile at them all before her smile faded and she snapped orders at them at how to use their weapons. At first, they had all jumped, not expecting her personality to switch so quickly, but then again, she had said she was tired and this matter was important. They guessed she wanted them to understand and so she was firing orders at them like a dictator of some sort.

When they had finished with their training after an hour or so and it was surely night time, she told them to head back. She needed to find that river as fast as she could and she needed them to be at Laeray. Once they were back at the village she sighed and placed her hand onto the earth, trying to find where the most moisture was besides the village were the fountain was.

She snapped up and turned her head in a northern direction. Without a moment's notice, she dashed off, feeling the earth and the amount of moisture through her toes. It seemed as though the closer she got to the water, the colder and harder the ground got. Then again, she was heading northwards and it was colder up there.

She stopped after a little while and looked back towards where she knew the village was. With a sigh, she could see a light off in the distance. She was much too far away from the village. This river just didn't seem as though it was close enough. As well, she needed the children with her in order to grow the plants. She wasn't sure of why, but perhaps because they had a need to help and this was the only way how to. For that reason they poured their soul into growing each tree, each plant.

In any case, she looked to the village and decided she would head south westwards, she could feel another river not far off. Amelia dashed off again and noticed the light becoming brighter. This river, this body of water seemed to be much closer to the village. It was strange how she hadn't noticed it before now. She stopped just a little ways away from the river and looked towards the village. The light was much brighter and she could see the apple tree as well.

With a smile, she placed her hand into the water and felt the amount of minerals instantly. The water was hardly as rich as the soil but, she took a sip of it, the water was still very high in minerals. It seemed this whole area was. She smiled and splashed some water on her face before heading back towards the village.

Once she arrived, it seemed as though the people were rather afraid with her being gone but she assured them that she wasn't far away. She told the children she had only been looking for new places to grow trees and she told the adults that she had found a river where they could clean themselves.

All of them smiled and she was rather surprised to have a few hug her before settling down to sleep. Amelia wasn't too sure what to make of this but apparently they thought of her as family and she was glad. She told Blake that he would be first for watch and that he should wake her if she sees anything out of the ordinary. She was sure though, if it was an exile, the feeling she would get would wake her up instantly. As soon as everyone was asleep, she hummed her melody before falling asleep herself.

Jikrae waited for what seemed to be an eternity for Ember to approach. Patience was certainly one of his fortes, however, and even as Dawn's light began to creep over the horizon, Jikrae stayed where he was, standing perfectly still. He could easily have passed as a statue if not for the sanguine lightning constantly leaping from his eyes.

Then, just as Jikrae was about to leave merely for the sake of arriving back at his mountain camp before his people awoke from their slumber, Ember's voice called back. Jikrae didn't appreciate the tone that Ember spoke with, and it took a small amount of Willpower to keep from intruding on Ember's land and confronting him directly.

"I am Jikrae'neindir Noel'ti Sundran Veroeski," Jikrae almost tripped over the name himself, as he tried to speak it as quickly as possible in order to confuse and annoy Ember. It came out as a single long, blurred noise, and Jikrae assumed that he had succeeded, though he couldn't be sure.

"I intend to travel around and meet the rest of the Exiles eventually, but seeing as how you're so close to my Garden, I assumed that it would be best if I got acquainted with you and your people now. If you are indeed Ember, I show my respect to you, Friend." Jikrae bowed elegantly and dropped his head low, fully expecting Ember to do the same.

In the very back of his mind, Jikrae knew that there was something about Ember he did not like. He knew that he hated this flaming monstrosity, but in the back of his mind, there was definitely a specific reason floating around his memory, just out-of-reach. He stood up straight again, though he was still dwarfed by Ember.

Jikrae's instincts told him to stay ready for some sort of attack by this horrid creature. He knew, however, that preparing himself into a defensive stance would only aggravate this potential ally, who seemed to already have a fair amount of production going on within his camp.

Jikrae failed to notice that most of those people appeared to be quite exhausted, but he did manage to catch that they were only designing the crudest of weapons at that moment. Jikrae almost laughed at that, but forced the chuckle back down by swallowing and closing his mouth behind the purple mask. Jikrae intended his Kingdom's military might to be technological. With the things he had dreamed of over the eternity he had been asleep in that bleak void, he could no doubt create marvelous weapons far beyond the years of anyone else on the planet.

Toucan noticed she hadn't heard the music for a while, even with the wind shifting in all directions. A sinking feeling overtook her stomach but she refused to believe it'd end-- somehow, the mechanic needed it to continue. She supposed that this was perhaps because it was one of the only soothing things she has encountered so far.

As she approached the garden the scents, smells, and sounds of moderate flora and activity greeted her. While Toucan found the sight of green and other colours somewhat pleasant, a small part of her recoiled and wished for the colourless tones of metal-- all kinds of metal... the exile allowed her mind to slip into a mechanical bliss, imagining giant structures of iron-- no, steel or maybe something even more luscious... the gears would clink together with perfect timing and the initial input force would be multiplied by the use of levers and gravity... a smile danced around the edges of her expression and her cant slowed to an invigorated stride as she approached the garden.

Toucan noticed the closer she got the more she felt a sense of unease-- she somehow associated this unease with the knowledge of the presence of another like her. How did she know this? Her hand dove to her pocket again to shape the metal, but finding this unsatisfactory Toucan searched another pocket to find a harder, thicker alloy. Many of her pockets were filled with various samples of metals and items with which to care for her metals-- to the extent that the slight girl took on a much bulkier appearance.

This metal was hard enough that Toucan had to devote some of her attention to it while she shaped it. Shaping, building, and fixing was both calming and uplifting to her, and she did it most when agitated or nervous. Eventually her hands begot a simple lever, then something resembling a wrench, then a simplistic engine able to be powered by steam...

She was even closer now-- the sand began to give way to stone and sage, then even lusher vegetation. The sense of anxiety increased to the extent that her fidgeting hands dropped the metal more than once and she eventually pocketed it for safekeeping.

When dawn broke upon the small garden the next day, Nyx was already awake. She had not really slept, not in the sense that humans did. Her form of rest was more of a light trance during which images and dreams flickered rapidly through her mind like a flowing current, light and clear and rippling.

Her humans however, needed more concrete forms of rest, and the morning light had broken softly over the garden before their prone forms began to stir. The first to rise was the little boy, rolling over and scrambling to his feet with the early energy of childhood. Nyx had noticed this one's boundless energy early in the previous day, just as she had unerringly spied the qualities in the others that might be cultivated with success. Already, she could tell Marina had the qualities of a leader, with a mind hungry for knowledge and a firm yet authoritative manner that often had her repeating Nyx's instructions for the others when they failed to understand them clearly, or chastising them for straying off their appointed tasks. The young man--Adrian, the name he had chosen for himself was,--she could already tell was impetuous and hot-headed, yet his energy could easily be channelled into productive work.

Others that had caught her eye were another young woman, this one flaxen-haired, broad-shouldered and comely, and fast in the process of striking up a friendship by Marina by the looks of it. She too had played an active part in the questioning, seemingly especially curious about the role their single garden had to play in the entire world. There was also the eldest man, Favian. Irascible and sharp with his words, especially around the younger, his words had a certain dour common sense and practical wisdom to them nonetheless that she perceived might come of use in the future.

They were all her people, her lambs to shepherd, and even she was surprised at times by the intensity of the protective feeling she felt for them.

Now, she smiled softly at the stirring humans as they yawned, and stirred., It was not long before the collective ripple of awakening had spead through the group, and one by one, bleary pairs of eyes revolved around the garden, focused, and came to rest on her.

"Good morning," she said quietly. "How were your dreams?"

"Dreams?" asked the little boy, in evident curiousity, as he rubbed the last traces of sleep from his eyes.

"The images that pass through your mind as you sleep." Nyx turned her smile on him before casting her gaze around the others as well. "Pay heed to them, for they are important. They give you to the potential to be what you are not yet."

When this gained her confused looks, she smiled once more and raised her hand. "I will explain in time. For now, let us begin once more. A new day lies before us." She stepped off her seat as she spoke, straightening up and slipping the flute back into her sleeve once more. It had lain loosely clutched in her fingers through the night.

While the humans busied themselves washing their faces at the babbling brook that ran through the garden, and gathering a breakfast of fruits and nuts, she took the time to walk around the small but verdant enclosure once more. Already, she noticed, the lush green was spreading outwards. The world was coming to life, the barrenness of the russet sand slowly fading to be replaced by fertile ground. Sap-bedewed buds had appeared on trees and twigs, tender shoots pushed their way through the earth, and the grass was fresh with dew. Soon, they would have to confine themselves to the once-garden no longer, but would be free to branch out and roam.

Her gaze had drawn itself quite unconsciously to the low undulations on the horizon that were the mountains. In one year's time I will call you, the Craftsman had said. The thought brought a pang of mingled anticipation and apprehension. A year seemed very far away at the moment, though it was little more than a fleeting moment in her life. For the humans under her tutelage now however, it was a goodly span of time, and she revelled to think of all that could be accomplished therein.

And then what? What would the Craftsman's call portend? There would be meetings no doubt, meetings with all of her as yet unknown and undiscovered brethren, and much talk of things to come. Yet what those meetings might bring, whether it be for better or worse, she could not divine.

They were waiting for her when she returned, anticipitation and eagerness in their eyes. She smiled faintly, and asked "Have any more of you chosen names for yourselves yet?"

She had hoped the night's sleep might bring them new insight, and her hopes were not disappointed. Three people came forward, one of them Marina's flaxen-haired friend. The name she chose was Bona. Then there was another young man, henceforth to be known as Levin, and an older chestnut-haired woman with a serious face, who requested to be henceforth known as Portia.

Once the naming sesssion was over and done with, and fine names Nyx thought they were too, she led them over to the temporary enclosure that had been formed around the sheep by embedding broken branches around them in a circle. The sheep that had been killed the previous day had been spitted over the fire and roasted, before being consumed. She had urged them to be sparing with the meat, for the flock was small, and needed to be allowed to breed if they were to to continue providing sustenance. There were also many things they could provide that did not necessiate their deaths. Milk, for instance, or cheese and butter, and wool.

It was the last that she was interested in at the moment. The sheep's pelt had been carefully cleaned and laid aside, and now lay stretched across a bramble bush. With quick steps, she approached it, before turning to face the humans.

"The weather will not always be as mild as it is now, nor as friendly," she began quietly. "There will be times of rain, and snow, and scorching heat. There are two ways of protecting yourself from these elements, one of which is to build dwelling places. The easier way, and the one we will direct our efforts towards first, is to weave clothing."

"Like yours, Lady Nyx?" enquired someone.

Nyx lifted a fold of her shimmering grey robes. "This is no common material, nor can it be woven from simple wool. But you are right, this is clothing, and while any that you will produce will be simpler, they will serve the same purpose."

She ran her eyes across the people in the group, finally coming to settle on Portia. "Portia, will you take on the task of taking this wool and weaving clothing from it? You will need more than this one fleece, but there is no need to slaughter more sheep, their wool can be sheared with any suitably sharp objects. The sharpened rocks from yesterday should be enough. What is more, if left unharmed, the fleece of a sheep grows back, and can be sheared once more." In a less audible aside, she added "You see, there is much that can be achieved without the need to spill blood."

Portia's broad, serious face seemed to light up at once, and she nodded in quick assent. "We will, Lady Nyx."

"And I will help, too!" added Marina fiercely. Already the young woman was displaying an urge to involve herself in every activity possible, especially any handed out directly by Nyx.

"The help will be welcome, I do not doubt." Nyx smiled. "Bona, I would ask you to aid them as well, for the task of weaving clothing for thirteen people is not easily accomplished. For now, it need only be basic in nature, but later, I will teach you how to use natural dyes from plants and roots to add colour to it, as well as how to weave more complex designs."

The next hour went to seeing the woman settled, and started on their task. To her pleasure, they picked up the technique quickly, and with makeshift shuttles made from selected wooden twigs, were soon hard at work and needing no further instruction. With the ease of knowing that one particular task had been seen to, and seen to well, Nyx left them to cross the verdant garden and move over to the rest.

"Adrian, Levin." She spoke their names softly, immediately capturing their attention. "I have a task for you as well, if you would accept it. And yes, you too, if you would." She was addressing Favian, and another of the older men, a stalwart fellow with a thickset build and sparse black stubble.

"Name it, Lady Nyx." Adrian's smile was fierce and exultant with the triumph of finally having a concrete job assigned to him. It was the same vibrant zeal that she had noted earlier, and which she had determined could be turned to good use.

"I need--" Here, for the first time since she had entered the garden, Nyx hesitated. The topic she was about to broach was the one both the least familiar to her, as well as the most abhorrent. Her doman was sleep, healing sleep and rest, and dreams, imagination and flights of fancy. Not the nitty-gritties of everyday life, much as she had made an effort to instruct them in them, and certainly not the devising of weapons or tools of war. Only the knowledge that it was necessary for the protection of her people, drove her forward.

Taking a deep breath, she mastered herself. She needed to let her people see her confident in her leadership. "I need you to make tools," she continued. "Tools for cutting branches, shearing sheep, digging in the earth, and if necessary...for defending yourselves, or for hunting. Weapons. Not unlike the sharpened rocks you used yesterday, but more functional and durable. Can you do it?"

To her relief, the men seemed to need no instruction in this area, in fact, broad grins broke out on their faces as if they had been expecting her words. "That's simple," Levin declared confidently. "We spoke about it yesterday, in the evening." Kneeling, he sketched a rough outline in the cleared dirt around the area where the fire had been lit. "We thought that if rocks could be sharpened more, and tied to a branch or stick of wood, it could make an useful tool. A--"

"A spear, yes." Nyx tried, only partially successfully, to hide her surprise. "That's exactly what I was talking about. You need better tools than the basic ones you have now, if you are to explore further and go in hunt of food in the forests." She could not help but feel relieved at their initiative in this manner. Her purpose all along had been to act a guide, helping them discover things for themselves rather than procure them for them, and it seemed that goal was finally taking shape.

"Once that is done," she turned to Favian and the other man. "Proper fortifications will be needed to be erected around the animals. They are very precious to you, and need to be both protected and kept from escaping."

This too, was met with various forms of agreement. Nyx dispensed a few more miscellanous tasks such as clearing the area around the fireplace, all the time aware of the increasing independence and initiative with which they grasped her suggestions and developed on them. She was just turning to go, well satisfied with the morning's work, when a small tug made itself felt on her robes. The perpretrator proved, on glancing, to be the small boy, and his new accomplice, another young girl perhaps a winter older than him.

"Lady Nyx," asked the child mournfully. "Is there nothing we can do?" His companion, apparently shyer, peeked out from behind his shoulder.

Caught off guard, Nyx blinked for a few moments before a small smile curved her lips. "Of course there is," she said gently. "Could you gather small twigs, and sticks, please? Dry grass too, and leaves if you can find them. They will be needed to stoke the fire when it is lit in the evening."

"Allright!" The boy brightened visibly at this prospect. Grabbing his companion's hand, he turned and scampered off in the direction of the nearest clump of trees, leaving Nyx to stand gazing after them with a look that was mingled pride and affection and trepidation.

Things were, all said and done, going fairly well.

"Always playing with your toys, Toucan. You never were one for the big picture. You were too busy looking at your work table." He chuckled to himself. He was standing a few feet behind her at this point, his silvery beard was fluttering softly in the cool night wind. The blue glow from the single moon made him appear even more haunting. Particularly his silver eyes.

"This is not your home." He said as he approached her slowly. "Your home lies in the East. Far in the East." He extended his hand to her, the long spidery hand unfolded and his slender, even bony fingers unfurled slightly with an audible clacking sound like two ball bearings striking each other.

Without waiting for a response from her he reached out, his hand flying faster than a snake's strike, and he snatched her hand. He gave her a gentle tug and started walking.

"I'm going to let you in on a secret, Toucan. You were always my favorite. I remember long hours we spent working together on our designs. I would much like to resume those days, though now I can't. Favoritism would benefit nobody." He sighed. "Your area is going to be full of rivers, it will be a bountiful place." He said as he motioned with his hand to the squat stone wall that sat huddled in the desert with its back against a small range of Mountains.

"I've taken the liberty of placing mountains here. These mountains are rich with ore for your experiments." His mustaches lifted in a smile. "Very soon you will hear a bell ringing. When you hear that bell follow its sound to its source. There you will meet the others like you. You may do whatever you wish until then, anything at all that you want."

He turned to leave, but before he did he snapped his fingers. The air next to him began to waver slightly. "Walk through that and it will take you back to where you were. Amelia is a kind-hearted soul and I want you to meet her. Her kingdom is in the center of the world. I don't want her to have enemies on all sides. She is going to be one of the key builders of this world. Without her this place would remain dead and ugly."

"You are free, for now."

And he was gone.

At the word “sea” Ave let out a giggle of excitement. Fond memories welled up, of dancing waves and sparkling reflections. And for a brief second the smell of salt and spray rose up in her mind. The Craftsman could have not given her a better gift. She turned around to say something, but he was already gone. Something close to disappointment crossed her face; as brief as it was, she had enjoyed his presence. There was something fond and comforting about it. Putting it from her mind, she turned her attention back to the small garden of green amid so much brown.

She strolled down to the ring of stone, and lightly pressed her hand to it. The walls receded into the earth immediately, revealing wide-eyed curious humans. Ave grinned pleasantly and walked up to them. All of them were young, the oldest a male that around 17 years. She could have not received a more perfect group. A loud, high laugh suddenly erupted from her, which ended in a fit of giggling.

Finished, she looked up to find the humans staring at her, the older ones looking scared, the younger ones with small smiles of their own. She made a deep bow and proceeded to introduce herself. “I am Ave, master of all things joyous, and you, my lucky dears, are the ones who will benefit from my wisdom.” She looked up to find all of them slightly confused looking. She laughed again, but this time it was softer and less harsh. “I am here to help you grow, not in the survival sense, for you should be able to do that on your own. I am here to help your minds grow, to make you an unique and separate civilization; one that thinks differently.” She knew they understood little of what she said, but it mattered not. They didn’t need to understand.

She stopped to take a look at the garden. The small pool in the center had already grown, beginning to form what would some day be a river. The animals were nondescript, she had little need for them; the humans would do what they would with them. She noticed a large rock sticking out near the edge of the grass, and made a mental note of it. Upon closer inspection, she counted seven humans: three boys, four girls. The youngest and oldest were male, and then the females ranged in age. The middle boy, probably around 10, had bleached blonde hair, with bright blue eyes. Slowly, she walked amongst them, took his hand carefully, and led him, with the rest trailing behind, to the large rock. She sat him down closest to it, and then hopped up and perched on it herself.

She looked at the bright, young faces and smiled cheerfully. Her eyes had turned a deep shade of blue, close to the hue of the boy’s, but more saturated and bright. She also noticed the oldest male, who had a soft shade of brown for hair and hazel eyes. She slowly took in all the children’s appearances, assessing and remembering, joy radiating across her face. One girl’s eyes were a grey akin to purple, while another girl had hair that would mostly likely turn red in the sun. Once done, she nodded at them all and began to speak.

“There is nothing you can not do. This land is yours, and you will do what you must to survive.” Cocking her head slightly, she continued, “I am not your leader, you will choose one of your own. I am your guide, one who you shall love and hold in awe. I shall help you in matters of the mind and soul, that is all.” Though her words may not be understood, they had their desired effect. She saw awe on all their faces. “Now listen, and listen well, for this is my first and only commandment.” She stopped, making sure that understanding was at least clear. She continued, speaking slowly and surely, holding each word dear, “Love as thou wilt.”
With a small smile, she descended from the rock, and came up to the blonde boy. She crouched down, so that they were on eye level, and kissed him lightly on the lips. She helped him up, and then went to each of the others in turn, and repeated the gesture. It was now completely nightfall, but the garden was illuminated brightly by full moon. With another deep bow, she exited the garden, and quickly disappeared into the night.

Ave, after making sure she was unseen, quickly made her way to a distance beyond the garden. Finding an outcropping of large rocks, that jutted their way into the air, she made her way up to the highest point. It was perfect; she could see everything being done below, but could easily hide from view if anyone looked this way. She saw now, that the children were grouped together, all lying under a small tree. With a grin, Ave noticed that age and sex made no difference; all were lying together, some with arms entwined or hands held, silently going to sleep. Though she couldn’t see, Ave knew that all would have smiles of contentment on their faces as they drifted off to sleep. Her speech, intricately laced with bits of her power, would make them cheerful and pleasant, ready to take on any means of survival with fluidity and grace.

Excited beyond measure, she started to hum quietly, trying desperately to keep herself in check. Tomorrow she would visit them again, and talk to them again. Other wise she would watch and wait. Exploring would be her next priority, as she would be better able to formulate the future with the layout of the land in mind. She would also have to make note of any animals, plants, or formations as well. Her excitement finally quieting down, she switched her position until she was lying on her back. The stars winked at her from above, and she stared at them happily.

Toucan visibly started at the voice behind her and whirled with a clanking of metal. Upon taking the figure in her face became a mask of concentration-- something was familiar about him-- and how on earth did he know her name? My name...?

Toucan started again upon realizing that she had known what her name was and yet had never been taught what it was. "How do you--" the mechanic was cut short as she was suddenly pulled along.

Home? I have a home...? she wondered with reverence as they traveled.

"We worked together? You--" suddenly the exile was hit full force with clairvoyant memories corresponding to the man's descriptions. She was still unsure of the specifics of his identity, instead associating him with a general calm force that she enjoyed working in the presence of. The anxiety and angst she normally suffered was diminished in this presence as it was now.

But this recognition was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling when he told her these days were a thing of the past. Why?

Toucan rarely took no for an answer. There was always a solution-- just adjust this weight, move this rod a few degrees... if one was persistent and clear-headed enough, things would solve themselves eventually. She turned to the man with an inquisitive, determined expression, ready to figure out a way but the motion of his hand directed her gaze to the stone wall, and she gaped at what she saw.

The mountains and rivers-- a dreamland! It was the perfect place to refine and work with metal, free of distractions and inhibitions. A huge smile lit her face as she took it all in. Toucan felt dizzy and weak-- it was perfect! Absolutely perfect!

She turned back to the craftsman and listened in a daze to his instructions-- bell, yes, come to it... others like myself? The way he was talking about things made it sound like before she had been very close to one. This filled her with excitement to rival that of the moment she first took in this area-- and who was Amelia?

Toucan started to ask one of the hundreds of questions that were whirling in her mind, but suddenly the man was gone. With a look of mild horror she ran to the spot where he had just stood and groped around at the air, as though he had simply gone invisible.

"Where are you? Where did you go? Who are you...?" she asked, her voice becoming more and more feeble.

She stood for a few moments with a look of intellectual incomprehension on her face, the last five minutes or so being the most confusing she had experienced yet. Knowing from some experience she could not recall that a confused state was hardly one to think in, Toucan eventually turned back to the stone wall, a look of determination replacing the confused expression. She would go through the portal and sort things out later.

For now the mechanic strode up the wall, finding that when she touched it an entry made itself apparent. Toucan sucked in her breath and cautiously crept through the opening, finding herself surrounded by the promised rivers and mountains and--

People?

She blinked uncomprehendingly at them, and they at her. The expressions molded themselves into ones of incredulity, confusion, fear, anger, excitement, and shyness. No two seemed to be the same.

Toucan, in the few moments of silence that followed, flipped up her goggles and waved awkwardly. "He--hello. I'm Toucan."

***

She was now sitting on one of the many rocks that littered the river-fed plains, soaking up the morning sun rays. The night had been a productive one-- she learned that these people had been alone for a long time in this garden which was apparently her home. She joined them as an equal rather than as a deity, finding that while her physical abilities trumped theirs, their intellect and wit were matches to her own, which was all that really mattered to the mechanic.

They were not stupid or helpless-- infact, they had formed quite the society of their own. Peace-loving and wise, they accepted her immediately into their fold.

One thing was missing, however... Toucan, being the exile of mechanics and metal, was necessary in order that these things come into a useful existence. Up until now there had been no knowledge of metal and its mechanics, despite there being proliferate unrefined ore everywhere. Realizing slowly that it was her responsibility to bring this thing into useful existence, Toucan resolved to teach the inhabitants about it as soon as possible.

Yet...

She handled the thin metal in her pocket again, nervously. Something was holding her back.

Devath
Crew

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Devath
Crew

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Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2007 10:50 pm

History of the Exiles Page Four Continued

Roet stood up and looked around. Chrion was standing nesxt to him, having just been woken up, and Iaso was only just blearily standing up. Roet explained what they werre doing, "Today, tomorrow, and possibly the day after, we are going to be scouting, innovating, and 'drawing the boundaries', so to speak." Chiron looked up at him questioningly, "Innovating?" Roet smiled, "don't worry, that'll be Iaso and I's job." Chron looked mildly contented at this information.

Roet grabbed the long, bendy branch he had grabbed the night before, "let's go." He started walking in a general east-northeast direction.Roet stood up and looked around. Chrion was standing nesxt to him, having just been woken up, and Iaso was only just blearily standing up. Roet explained what they werre doing, "Today, tomorrow, and possibly the day after, we are going to be scouting, innovating, and 'drawing the boundaries', so to speak." Chiron looked up at him questioningly, "Innovating?" Roet smiled, "don't worry, that'll be Iaso and I's job." Chron looked mildly contented at this information.

Roet grabbed the long, bendy branch he had grabbed the night before, "let's go." He started walking in a general east-northeast direction. Eventually he pulled out his bone knife and started whittling down the ends of the branch, thining down most of it but leaving the middle thick and strong. Eventually they came to a small forest. when they arrived here, Roet had tnem wait as he walked into the more forested parts and grabbed several things. A few berries, some poisonous, some healthy. He grabbed some stones that they could use to make tools, and he grabbed a pair of recently-shed antlers. Examining them, he decided they must have been from and elk. He picked them up and took them back to Iaso and Chiron. He handed Iaso the berries, cautioning her not to eat any of them. He handed the stones and antlers to Chiron.

Turning back to Iaso, he took the three poisonous berries and told her how to identify them and what their plants looked like. He tossed the berries away and took the five healthy ones. He pointed out some things that all healthy berries had and what their plants looked like. Chiron listened just as closely as Iaso, which wasn't bad. As a scout, Chiron would need this information.

Roet turned back to Chiron, "These antlers can be used as blunt weapons. They can also be used to call animals." he took them and smacked them together a few times, using a common elk call. "They won't likely come right now, but you can also use these to-" He swung one through the air, "-attack animals that would hurt you." He handed them back and took the stones. One was larger than the other by far. He set that one down, got down on his knees, and took the other rock in both hands. he raised his hands above his head and pushed down hard.

Being an exile, Roet was unnaturally strong. the large stone burst into extraordinarily sharp pieces and flew every which way. He glanced up and saw that none of the shards had hit Iaso or Chiron. Roet stood up and picked up one of the shards, "These little bastards are your ticket to safety."

Roet looked around and jogged lightly back into the forest. He drew his knife and attempted to cut down a small, five-and-a-half foot tall tree. when he was done, he brought it out and showed it to Chiron, "This is the beginning of a weapon. It's called a spear." he took his knife and made two notches near the tip, then sliced at the very end along the top. he took a shard, one that had, by chance, taken the perfect shape, and inserted it into the slit he had just cut. then he reached back to his cape, pulled a single, amazingly strong, string, and tied the shard to the spear shaft with the notches. "here. this will be your primary weapon. But wait, let's think for a moment. I know you were listening to me talk about the berries. Go and find a poisonous bush and take a handful of each type of poisonous one.

While Chiron did that, Roet walked up to a bush and grabbed a single leaf. he took it back to Iaso and showed he how to make tea for people who were sick or cold. he lit a small fire, this time song two of the shards, and made good flame for healing things. he looked around and finally saw what he needed. A small, dug up, stump. he took his knife and started whittling out the centre of it, making a shallow bowl. He stood up, carrying the new bowl, and dug a hole in some of the more moist dirt near the bush from which he took the tea leaf. after several minutes, Chiron returned, but Roet kept digging. He finally hit water and scooped some up in his hands. He poured the water into the bowl and took it over to the fire. He placed it on the fire and told Iaso to watch it until it bowled, then take it off and put in the tea as he had told her before.

Then Roet turned back to Chiron, who was carrying some twenty berries. Roet took about seven and placed the others in a pouch at his belt. He pushed the berries into the tip of the spear, and showed Chiron that it would kill people if he hit them in the right spot.

Iaso called over to Roet as the water boild end she prepared the tea. Roet took a sip from the rough wooden bowl and smiled, though it was far too hot. He passed it to Chiron, "Watch out, it's hot." Chiron carefully took a sip, then passed it on to Iaso.

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

It was late. Roet knew it wasn't morning, but there was a loud sound behind him. Roet jumped up and drew his knife. There were three wolves standing there, and Roet knew this was perfect practice for Chiron. Roet lightly kicked Chiron and redaied his knife as he passed the spear to the young boy, "We've got wolves." the boy instantly grabbed the spear and vaulted to his feet. he looked one right in the eye and held the spear towards one, "that one's mine." Roet nodded and garbbed one of the elk horns, "let's do this."

The second they stepped forward, the trio started growling even louder and baring their teeth. Chiron readied his spear and lunged, stabbing the wolf in the neck. It whimpered and tried to get away, but Chiron had already drew his own bone knife and stabbed it, finishing it quickly.

Roet swung the elk antler hard and knocked one of the wolves right into the air. He then threw the knife at the other one as it approached Chiron from behind. It dropped dead as the knife punctured its back. Roet smiled, satisfied with their nights work, and grabbed the knife from the wolf's body. He raised a shard of stone and cut open the Wolf that Chiron had killed.

Only moments after starting the process of gutting, Roet heard a whimper from behind and turned around, only to see a young wolf pup standing there, looking uncertain. Chiron, who was watching, was instantly in love with the little thing. he grabbed a piece of meat from one of the wolves and called it over. Roet made a note that Wolves would eat almost any type of meat. Roet smiled, "You've gotten yourself a pet!" Chiron nodded, "But I think it needs a name...d'you have any ideas?" Roet nodded, "Dirae." Chiron looked down at his new charge, "Dirae...I think he likes it..." the little wolf had it's tongue lolling out and it's tail was wagging.

Roet continued skinning it's mother. How morbid... he thought, as he finished making Chiron a sort of robe. He finished the top half, then started on one of the other wolves. After about an hour of work, Chiron had a new robe and a pet wolf. "Remember, Chiron, you'll have to take Dirae with you when you go scouting." Chiron nodded, "Of course, Roet."

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

Roet woke to the sound of barking and talking. He looked up and saw Iaso adn Chiron eating some of the wolf meat from before, which they had obviously cooked, and were throwing a few pieces to Dirae. He pushed himself up and smiled at the pup, "Dirae. Come 'ere!" the pup ran at him and licked his face. Roet pushed the put away playfully, "Who ever said wolves weren't playful?" Roet grabbed a few pieces of meat and tossed them to the little wolf. He knew this would be VERY interesting. "How are we gonna teach him not to attack the animals back at the camp?" Roet heard Iaso say, "Easy, we don't let him through the fence. problem solved."

Roet looked over at the carcass of one of the wolves, the one that he had thrown into the air. it was a bloody heap, but it was almost completely gone. Roet looked around and saw that there were several new knives and he had made a short, sturdy spear. "What's with the weapons?" Chiron smiled, "I think we could use them for something or other." Roet nodded, "good work, but we have to get back to the camp. let's move." He grabbed the antlers, the longer spear, and the bowl, while Iaso and Chiron each carried their own things.

"Chiron, you'll be traversing here often, so remember things by noticable spots, or landmarks, to knwo where everything is. At night everything looks the same." Chiron nodded, "I'll have dirae here if anything goes wrong, so he can always lead me to safety." he smitked, knowing that the little wolf pup would be more than helpful someday. Chiron glanced back at the pup, which was following a few feet behind, alert and ready, tail wagging. Roet smiled, "This animal was never meant to be tamed. never keep him tied up if you can help it; he will never forgive anyone who does that. Be loyal to that pup, from this moment on, and he will be forever loyal in return. Never falter." Chiron nodded, "Never falter."

Iaso idely grabbed a small, red-tinted leaf as they passed a small bush. Roet immediately knocked it from her grasp, "don't touch that plant. it's called Poison Ivy. It'll make your hand itch unbearably for a while." Iaso could already feel it coming on. Chiron took a fold of cloth and grabbed a few leaves of Poison Ivy, "it could come in handy, though. You must admit that." Roet nodded. Only in war, Chiron, only in war...

After another half-hour of walking, Roet saw the camp and quickened his pace. Iaso, scratching vigorously at her hand, followed. Chiron grabbed the Dirae and walked into the camp. Coronis immediately lurched forward, "CHiron, what are you doing with that beast?" Roet pushed her back lightly, "He saved Dirae's life and Dirae is his pet now. Leave him be." Coronis glanced back at the little wolf, then walked away.

Roet turned back to Chiron, "Go show the men how to make spears. we'll need many, in time. Iaso, show the girls about the berries so that they do not inadvertly devour something poisonous." They both ran off. These people are learning at amazing paces... we may have better clothes and true technology in less than a decade! He smiled and turned back to the now alone pup. Dirae, you are going to learn how to scout with your young master. By loyal to him, and you will always have a home here." The pup cocked its head comedically. Roet laughed and walked off, looking for Telesforos...

Great whirling winds surrounded him. He was falling... A broad expanse waited below him, but he seemed held back. Was it not his time yet?

Suddenly, knowledge that had been sealed away flooded into his mind, throwing him into a haze of recollection. He began to remember... Many things.

As events rushed through his head with unrequited speed, he grasped upon important threads quickly, knowing that it would take a long time to process the full amount of information that was flowing into him. The words came forth in his mind... Craftsman... Garden... Library... Exile... Three Laws...

These seemed important, very important. He felt he knew what to do now, once he set his feet upon the ground. The Craftsman was not to be trifled with, and as a neutral party, would likely have little of interest for him. The Library, he remembered, was a place of knowledge that he would visit often to help bring forth these broken memories. Exiles were part of this new world, and he was one of them, as it happened... Some would be troublesome, some helpful. It all varied upon their impression of him. The Three Laws burned through his mind, and he accepted them fully. Laws were a part of universal balance, no need to disrupt them.

Lastly... a Garden. He needed to find one of his own, one that had not been claimed by the tainted hand of another Exile. As he began to fall once more, this thought reigned supreme until... What is my Name? Do I have a Name? Why should I have a Name? Then it dawned upon him, as would a sparkling star on a dark night. My name is... Dessande' Dessande' Fierra... It was a deep name, and it fit him well.

His fall ended, and water gushed upwards in great waves from his point of impact. He rose to the surface and began to walk. He sensed a presence nearby. It was a Garden, it seemed. He walked in the direction from which he felt its presence, his patient gait bringing him to the shore, which seemed to be made of a sheer cliff with many caves within it.

He walked into what seemed the largest of the cave entrances, and came into a looming cavern. It was illuminated by crystals that seemed to bring sunlight fro the top of the caves through properties that allowed them to absorb and move light through them, transmitting light in the same way power lines transmit electricity. They were an interesting thing to see, especially on this new world.

Then, he saw it. The wall of the Garden-Sanctuary stood before him, illuminated by the light of the crystals. Its intricate patterns entranced him, and he was drawn to touch it. On contact with the wall, he felt it communicate its passing of the burden of caring for these humans onto him. Dessande' understood, and knew that these would be a powerful people, and would dominate the seas at his will.

He looked within, and the appearance was different from the other Gardens, as this one was not a surface Garden. A large stream of fresh water flowed through the center of the Garden, and moss, instead of grass, coated the ground. There were reeds in the river, and edible mushrooms dotted the banks. This was a dreary home, and it was fitting for the dreary depths that were his domain.

The men and women that inhabited the Garden approached him cautiously. One of the women stepped forward and asked, "Why has the wall come down? Is it your doing?" He answered in a gentle tone. "Yes... It would be my doing. However, do not fear, for I have come to lead you, care for you and protect you. These waters shall forever be your friend, cherish them, for they will bring you food and nourishment"

At his speech, all of the people of the Garden seemed to relax, and they bowed to him. The eleventh of their number, a woman and leader, spoke, "We are glad for your protection. What is your name, One who came from the Waters?" In reply, he spoke gently and with force, "I am Dessande', ruler of the depths. While I may not come fully into my power for a while, I will be able to bring this village into times both hard and easy, given the impulse to do so. For now, I will lead you all, and build your small people into a mighty empire."

His words brought cheers from his new subjects, and his eyes brightened. "I will give you all names, each unique to the person who bears it." He said, looking around at the inhabitants of his Garden, six women and five men. He called the men forward, of which four were of early maturity, and one was still in adolescence.

He knelt and anointed each one in turn.
To the first and eldest he said, "You will be Samuel, a man of strength and power. You will be taught how to build and hunt, and many other things that involve men of great strength."
To the second, not much younger than the first, he said, "You will be named Michael, and will learn how to fight and defend, whether it be against the great creatures if the depths, or against the incursions of humans from above. You are a warrior at heart, and will show it in all your endeavors."
To the third, of and age with the second, he said, "You, I will give the name Octavius. You will motivate and will learn how to lead your people in battle. Your ability will give rise to the center of an empire that will rise from these humble beginnings."
To the fourth, just younger than the second and third, he said, "Your name will be Daniel. Your bravery and intelligence will lead you to create new things, even without my guidance. You will find new ways to do things with ease."
To the final male, the adolescent, he said, "As for you, I cannot determine your fate just yet, so you will aid in the works of the other men. You, I will name Gregory."

Standing, Dessande' let the men bow in thanks and then called forward the women, kneeling to christen each with a name.
The first to come before him was the leader that had spoken before, older than the eldest man, but still young and well fit. To her, he said, "Your name is Jessica. You are a strong leader, and will bring prosperity to your people, especially in peace."
The second to come before him was of an age with the non-adolescent men. He said to her, "You will be Sarah, and you shall learn to make clothing out of the skins of the creatures of the sea that will keep the people warm in times when it becomes cold."
The third that came before him was younger than the second, but still mature of body and mind. To her, he said, "You are Vivian, and you will heal the injured and comfort the dying. Yours is an important job, a** it helps everyone else do their job correctly."
The fourth and fifth that came before him were just younger than Vivian, and of an age with Daniel. To them he said, "Your names shall be Laura and Clara. You are strong and hardy women, and shall learn your arts alongside Samuel."
The sixth that came before him was an adolescent, as had been the last of the men. To here, he said, "Your name will be Dorilys, and one day you will be mighty in the mind, and will be a great strategist over the fleets to come. For now, you will work with Daniel, and hone your mind for the tasks to come."

Standing, He had them bow in thanks and move off to stand with the men. To the group as a whole, he spoke. "Jessica, Samuel, Sarah, Michael, Vivian, Octavius, Laura, Daniel, Clara, Gregory, Dorilys. You are all my people, and will prosper under my guidance. Tonight we will rest, knowing that the morning will come all too soon. Sleep well, and look forward to the new day."

As all of the humans lay down to sleep, Dessande' sat looking out on the ocean in deep thought. It was a lonely world, this one. The number of people was small, but it would grow, perhaps exponentially. What the Craftsman had said in the memory-dream was true. He did have a long time to complete his task. This was only the first day, in truth, and the people seemed content with his assumption of leadership, and viewed him as someone to be respected, rather than feared. He was lucky, and times were easy, for the moment. For the moment, indeed...

Amelia could feel it, she could feel the other exiles moving around, all around her. It was rather annoying and it felt as though her dreams were swirling around and around. Even half conscious, Amelia could feel the exile more eastwards quite strongly. She didn't understand why because a few moments before they hadn't felt so strong. Her dreams continued to swim though, swimming round and round and making her rather sick. It wasn't until she felt someone tugging on her that she came out of it.

"Amelia? Amelia?" Aya called her in her soft, rather quiet voice, as she shook Amelia to wake her up. "Damien... do you know what's wrong with her?" Aya asked, looked back to him as she continued to shake her. He shook his head with a sigh and watched as Aya shook her.

For the past little while, since Damien had taken his shift, Amelia had been turning this way and that, as though she couldn't sleep. As well, it seemed as though she was sick since she kept sweating all night. He guessed that either she couldn't sleep, she was sick, or she was having a bad dream. In any case, he had kept an eye on her while doing his patrol.

"Damien! Look!"

Damien looked back to Amelia as her eyes started to open and he quickly went back to doing his work. It seemed as though she had woken up and even if he was on the other side of the fire pit, with everyone sleeping like this, it was sure that he would still be able to hear their conversation.

"Stop shaking me please..." She said wearily as she opened her eyes to see a concerned Aya. Amelia sat up and hunched over, placing her cold hand on her forehead. It was all sweaty and she guessed that with all these exiles running around, although she wasn't very good at sensing them at all. She guessed her power had slowly begun to grow and now, whether conscious or not, she'd be able to feel them.

She looked eastwards, to where the farthest exile, yet one of the closest was. At first they were quite far away. In fact it would take her a while, even running at full speed, to get there. Then, all of a sudden, it felt as though they were closer, much closer, in fact beside her. Although, as she looked around, she couldn't see them anywhere.

"Damien," She called, looking over to him, "Did anyone come here last night?" He shook his head and she sighed, at least no one had come. Although somehow she wished for a more... detailed report. From Damien, it seemed as though there was no need. She sighed, At lest he gets straight to the point.

"Ummm..."

Amelia looked over to Aya who still seemed concerned. She smiled and explained, "I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I was just having a bad dream." She rubbed her head. "Before everyone wakes up, Aya, would you mind heading to the garden and getting food for everyone? The red ones that look like apples. They're much softer so handle them with care. As well, tell everyone to dip them in the water first and get as much dirt as they can off of them. Then they will be safe to eat." She turned westwards and decided to go wash herself off.

"Umm... where are you going?" Aya asked, looking at her.

"I'm just going to look for a river. I have some plans for it today." Amelia headed off and Aya nodded, quickly gathering the food before anyone awoke.

Amelia, once far enough away from Laeray, ran off towards the river and managed to stop right before the riverbed. It seemed as though she was getting better at running and knowing when to stop. At this rate, she wouldn't have to walk very far when she stopped. Although she still had to be careful, that time she had almost fallen in.

With a sigh, she slowly removed her clothes and jumped into the river. It was cold yet refreshing. Although the river, width wise, was very tiny, she could float there without being pulled down it. The water was very good and she no longer felt sick in the least. At least this is an upside. She thought with a smile, trying not to think of the downside for bathing like this.

Shortly after she came out of the river and waited for herself to be dried off, she got dressed again and headed back towards the village. Later she would bring the two children here and they would grow some trees. She would be sad with the majority of the trees she would grow today though, most would be cut down so that they could build a shelter for them all.

By the time she came back to the village, everyone was awake and finished eating. She blinked and starred at them all as they starred at her. The fire had already been put out and they were all waiting eagerly for her, yet somewhat concerned. Perhaps Aya had told them how she was feeling before. Quickly she smiled to them all, "Don't worry. I feel much better now. I found a river as well." She stretched. "After today's work, everyone can take a bath." They all smiled back at her and the children ran up to her.

"Sister?" Sarah said and Amelia looked down to them, blushing quite a lot. They all looked so sweet, innocent and cute. She couldn't resist herself, by Sarah saying that one word, she was filled with joy and hugged the four of them.

"You're so cute!" She called out happily as everyone else jumped, still not so used to her personality switches and spontaneity. The children struggled beneath her grip and she released them after a moment or so. She smiled to everyone else and they smiled back, half amused, half afraid.

She looked about the group for a moment and quickly, before it was anymore awkward, told everyone what they were to do. Alexander was to watch over the animals in the pen today. As well, she gave him a special task. He was supposed to carve out a bow. She had explained the process clearly to him and, surprisingly, he understood it all. Before long he was off to work with a branch and a sharp stone.

Ildri, Chelsea and Aya were to continue their work with the dried wool and make it into string. After that, since they were almost done, they were to go see Alexander who, yesterday day, had made them some knitting needles. Of course, yesterday Amelia had explained this processed to them as well. It was their job to remember it now. Sarah and Mark were in charge of keeping the string straight and not allowing it to tangle.

As for Blake and John, they were to watch the village while Amelia, Elane, Nicolas and Damien left to go to the river. She told them that later on, all four of them would go out hunting and get some meat for everyone. She had to explain what exactly meat was but sooner or later, the rest split up and she was heading out with the other three.

It wasn't that far, in her opinion, away from the village but it seemed much farther than the rest had thought it to be. Damien had no choice but to ask how she made it here and back in such a short amount of time. "How did you manage to get here and back?" He looked to her and she turned around and smiled at him.

He gulped; for some reason that smile was devilish. "So you can talk." She commented, looking up to him. Damien was one of the taller men at the village. He sighed and looked her in the eye as sternly as he could but he failed and guessed that she'd probably use his uneasiness soon. The children had already started to splash each other and Amelia had to get them out of the water.

Before they had left the village, Amelia had gathered a bunch of sticks and brought them with her. She had already started to her little ritual with each stick while Damien watched to make sure nothing came and attacked them. Before long, a large amount of trees had been grown in the amount of time taken for one. As well, Amelia felt as though she had just grown one. She smiled. She was right, growing the trees near water was much easier.

Soon it was noontime and she decided it was time for them to head back. It also meant that it was time that Damien, Blake, John and herself to go and hunt. When they arrived back at the village, off in the distance near the river, a large amount of trees could be seen. Everyone seemed so interested in them, as well they were worried about Amelia. She had never grown that much in such a short amount of time. It seemed that she was perfectly fine though.

Alexander stepped up and showed her the bow and Amelia smiled to him. "This is perfect!" She yelled unintentionally. Although, that made everyone jump, especially Damien. Everyone guessed something had happened while they were out.

"Okay!" Amelia called out. "Since you're done with the string and have already created one blanket, I'd like you to leave one bundle of string left over and try to make clothes." Ildri, Chelsea, Aya and the children all starred at her. "Clothes, like mine." She pointed to them. "It doesn't have to be something as good as this but something like it." It seemed as though they didn't quite understand what it should look like.

She bent down and drew a picture into the ground. "These are clothes for the men and," She paused and drew another picture, pointing to it, "these are clothes for females." She stood back up. "Please take measurements of the person your making clothes for." It seemed as though the got it and quickly ran off to do so.

Amelia smiled and turned to Alexander. "If you would, please take that extra bundle of sting and use it where i told you to earlier. Then, if you're not too busy, take some sticks and start to make them about the same size. As well, make one end as pointed as you can." She drew another picture into the ground. Alexander nodded and went off to do so.

She turned to the men and smiled, "Now, let's get you trained." They all starred at her strangely. Hadn't they done that already but they followed her anyways, looking out for any animal they could see as they head more eastwards.

Ember stood, hating the man's name(though he didn't actually know what it was due to being said so fast). Ember thought of his plans and how they must change having an Exile so close. He trusted nothing of the exile's, any exile's, motives and was hateful at the fact that he didn't know exactly what the man's power was. Ember is a rather obvious show of that which he controls, others had apparently not been created with the same idea.

As the man bowed, all Ember could think of was that he hated the word Friend. He liked people bowing to him, but he hated that word. Ember's flames died to a reasonable level, merely enough to cover his body like flaming clothes rather than a mighty ball of fire. Ember did not bow back, of course. Whether it was because he didn't realize that was what was wished of him or he simply refused to bow to anything, who could know?

"This land is the land of Fire, those who tread unwelcome are subject to a searing holocaust." His voice came in it's ghostly way, revealing only everything he wished. None needed know he was the Exile of Animosity as well, they would come to realize that in time. A hateful flame was that which burned with arms, legs, and the name of Ember. "My people will harm nothing which does not incur my fiery retribution."
That last part was an outright lie, but Ember could tell lies with relative impunity. The best poker face is no visible face at all.

Several dozen feet behind Ember, his people lined up into two lines of 6. Each carried with them a stone axe, made as a cutting tool but sharp enough to get the job done on flesh as well. They stood like robots, awaiting anything to happen with patience. Ember was glad, because this meeting had bumped up certain plans of his slightly. No more time for building small dwellings and making stone tools, soon they moved on to bigger and better things.

Ember, not the most talkative when it came to others outside his lands, merely stood with his arms at his sides. He hated wasting time, hated meeting new people unless he was about to conquer them. His red eyes studied the man over as they floated in the flames, hating his cape and his horns and his mask and his belt and everything else in it's own turn.

Work in Nyx's garden progressed well as the shadows of the trees lengthened and the sun reached its zenith in the sky. Portia and the others had already produced one garment, a simple pair of breeches meant for male use. It was simple, but well-fitting and durable Nyx was impressed nonetheless, and softly told them so.

On the other side, the menfolk had erected a strong fence around the animals, made of thick whittled branches implanted in the ground. Their enthusiasm had, like the weavers, already produced fruitful results that took the shape of several carved stone spearheads and axe-heads, as well as knives fashioned from the bones of the sheep carcass. It had also produced several injuries, one a particular deep gash sustained by Levin that had had Nyx near-panicking and unsure of whether to chastise or sympathise. In the end, the cut had been staunched with water from the brook, and the young men had been subdued for all of one hour before resuming their reckless zeal.

At the moment, Favian and the other older men had retired to the shade of a willow tree that trailed its mournfully sweeping branches over the rippling waters of the brook, while the young children ran around the bushes and trees in some improvised game of tag, the sounds of their childish glee echoing across the garden. Adrian and Levin had sprawled beside the carefully swept dirt around the ashes of the fire. They were talking animatedly, and occasionally, making certain annotations or scribbles in the dirt with a long thin twig apparently procured for that purpose. After watching them for a while, Nyx's curiousity got the better of her, and she rose gracefully from her seat to glide over to them.

"What are you both up to?" she inquired. Her tone remained as always, quiet and melodious, but with a spark of interest this time.

"Planning what we can do with these," Adrian gave his already familiar wolfish grin, and swept a hand out to indicate the bundle of whittled sticks and sharpened stones that lay ready, as well as the few that had already been bound with vines into fairly durable spears and axes. "We feel there is so much that lies beyond this garden, so much that can be discovered!"

Levin, a little calmer, tapped the end of his twig on the scrawled designs in the earth, which, now that Nyx looked closely, proved to be a rough outline of their garden, with a squiggly line for the brook and a circle for the pond. More interestingly, and faintly disquietingly, the two young men had also added to this makeshift map the sketchy outlines of the thicket of forest visible not far to the east, the mountains in the north, and extended the outlines of the brook beyond the boundaries of the garden.

"The woods are not far," he voiced. "There would be more animals there, would there not, Lady Nyx?"

"There would." Not for the first time that day, Nyx was glad her hood concealed most of her face from view. Her people never seemed to stop surprising her with their leaps of progress. "Deer, which are peaceful animals like to sheep, or goats. Birds, and rabbits, and other small creatures. But there would also be predators. Dangerous animals, like wolves."

"What about the brook?" Hearing the new voice, Nyx turned to see Marina had joined the group. There was another garment in her arms, but her eyes were bright with interest, obviously having overheard the last part of the conversation. "It must flow somewhere. What if we followed it?"

"What would you know about that?" Adrian asked snidely. Marina threw the kilt at his head, temporarily distracting him and earning appreciative snickers from Levin.

Even Nyx was unable to restrain a smile. "It is likely that it would broaden, or join with a larger river," she replied. "I am not familiar with the territory of this world, myself, but rivers generally branch from larger sources before thinning out."

Adrian had managed to wrench the garment off his head. "So then, we could follow it elsewhere?" he asked excitedly. "Perhaps to other Domains?"

"Sounds like you're jumping ahead of yourself, if you ask me," growled a stentorian voice. Favian had joined the discussion as well, followed by the other men. "We should be seeing to what we have here, before we go wandering off in search of elsewhere."

"Yes, but," Marina beat Adrian to the retort. "We cannot stay huddled in this one spot forever. Think of what we might find out there!"

Rather overwhelmed by this debate, Nyx said nothing, but remained quiet. She was naturally withdrawn by nature, preferring to avoid conflict or dissension. Her duties as leader and guide to these people had forced her to come out of her shell, for a submissive and silent leader was an ineffective one. She felt sure she had spoken more in the last two days than she had in the previous part of her life. In this situation however, she was glad to let them talk without interruption. If they asked her opinion, she would give it, but until then, she had faith in their initiative.

However, it seemed asking her opinion was exactly what they intended to do, for a lull in the conversation had her looking up to see expectant gazes trained on her. She sighed, and then spoke, choosing her words carefully.

"There is a measure of truth in what both of you say. Yes, you have yet much to learn and do, and it is best that you focus on building on what you already have here. Build on and around this garden, cultivate it, make it flourish, expand it.

"However--" she smiled at Adrian's downcast expression. "While I advise you not to abandon this area completely in search of others, that does not exclude the possibility of occasional forays outside its boundaries. Marina spoke true, there is much to find there. Different varieties of plants, some with healing properties and others that can be used as tinctures, or to add flavour to food. Animals whose pelts and feathers can be used for clothing, as well, and whose bones to fashion weapons. There is much to be gained from exploration, and if you wish, we will start by following the line of the stream tomorrow."

There was a general murmur of assent and interest when she had finished. Favian's eyebrows were still knitted in a frown, but his objections seemed, if not completely assuaged, to have been at least mellowed. Adrian of course, seemed ready to leap up and set forth that very moment. He scrambled to his feet, mirrored moments later by Levin.

"We will go, then!" he said excitedly. "Levin, and myself and--"

"Not both of you," Marina interrupted with steel in her tone. "One, no more. Someone needs to remain behind to protect the children, and see to the safety of the Garden." Nyx had to turn her face to keep them from seeing her smile; Adrian and Levin had met their match in the form of the young woman, if not their better, she was obviously their equal in spirit and initiative.

She let the dismayed chorus of protests and counterattacks that erupted wage for a few moments without interference, before raising her hand to still them.

"There will be time enough to decide who goes, later," she said softly. "For now, that is an excellent beginning of a map you have there. Would you like me to etch it in stone for you?"

The response to this was immediate and enthuastic, and soon, a largish boulder with a flat side had been selected and pushed over with the combined efforts of the menfolk to lay with the flattened side upwards. Under the weight of a ring of eager gazes, Nyx knelt beside it. She closed her eyes for a moment, summing up her concentration and clearing her mind. Then, she drew back the sleeve of her robe and extended her hand to touch the stone lightly with one finger.

Where she traced, the rough grey stone seemed to shimmer and warp, leaving a shallow worn track in its wake. With a few deft movements, she reproduced the rough map Adrian and Levin had scrawled, though of course, with considerably more artistic sense than their squibbles and scrawls.

While the people broke into excited conversation, and reached out to touch the etched stone, she straightened gracefully to her feet and adjusted her silken robes around her once more.

"Come," she said quietly. "There is something I would show you." She spoke no more, but turned to walk towards the eastern boundary of the garden, and indeed, those few words were all it took. The people rose to their feet as well and followed at varying speeds, some lagging behind and some, like the children, scampering eagerly forward.

Nyx came to a stop once she had reached the small pool that hung overshadowed by the pear blossom tree. She knelt on the rock beside it which had become her favourite spot over the past couple of days, and before, reached out to lightly touch the surface of the water, causing ripples to gently rise and undulate outwards. The petals strewn on the pool stirred.

"I spoke to you this morning about dreams," she said quietly. They had all gathered around the pool now, the three children, Marina, Bona, Portia, Adrian, Levin and Favian, and the as yet unnamed woman and three men. "The images that pass through your mind when you sleep. But what I did not say then, is that dreams do not need to take place when you are asleep. They can exist in full wakefulness as well. In fact...without them, wakefulness would stagnate."

"You said they gave us the potential to be what we are not." Marina's eyes were alight with interest. "What does that mean?"

"Simply put," Nyx leaned out further over the water, and the fringes of her pale hair touched the water as she skated her fingers lightly across its rippling surface. "A dream is a vision of something that has not yet come to pass. It is not real, but that does mean it holds no value, for until a thing is envisioned in one's mind, it can never come to exist in reality. That was what you were doing, Marina, when you imagined following the course of the river to new ground, and Levin, when you imagined putting together wooden rods and carved stone heads. Envisioning that which had yet to be, and setting the basis for its tranformation into reality."

In the silence which followed, she saw wonder in their eyes as what she was saying sunk in. Only the children looked mildly confused, but she had anticipated that. Perhaps she would try to explain to them later in simpler language, for it was imperative that they understand what she was trying to communicate.

When she judged a long enough interval had passed, she spoke again. "Would you like to see what I dream?" she enquired softly. "Then look into the water."

She touched the water with a finger once more, and this time, the ripples were not merely of water, but colour, as faint images surfaced one after the other on the shimmery canvas. The first was that of their garden as it was now, green and verdant with scattered trees and bushes. The second was also of the garden, but changed; the green had spread far beyond its original boundaries and there were now small dwellings of wood clustered in the center. As the images passed, these dwellings grew in number, and became ringed by neat beds of small plants, the trees grew numerous and the brook widened to a river; the people who walked in and out of the rippling image were clothed in tunics and breeches. There were images of crops being cultivated, a baby being swaddled in clothes, musical instruments being strung and animals tamed. Then, the images took off, racing across the plains and fleetingly allowing a glimpse of grand cities with many towered turrets, before being abruptly stopped as Nyx removed her hand from the water.

Her people all looked mildly dazed by the onslaught of images, she noted with trepidation as she shook water droplets from her slender fingers, perhaps she had shown too much. All she had had to show was simply her own imagination of things to come, it was in no way guaranteed to become reality or come true, and it was entirely possible that things as they would come to be would be entirely different. Still, as she had told them, how would things even stand a chance of becoming reality if one did not dream them first? It was the lesson she had tried to instill in them, and she hoped it had been successfull.

"If there was only one thing I could teach you, it would be that," she said, and her tone was clear this time, unlike its usual husky softness. "Dream. Envision that which has not yet come to pass. It will see you reaching heights unlike any other."

Roet tapped Telesforos' shoulder, "Hey. what've you been up to?" Telesforos looked over at Roet and shrugged non-commitally, "Mostly just running away from the girls, but I've helped make a knife too!" Roet smiled, "Good job. you'll need those skills in the near future. Pay close attention to every lesson. Someday you may even be as strong as me." He pointed in the direction of Chiron, I think you'll be a good scout eventually too. Learn from Chiron's example. He's a good kid..." Roet turned away from Telesforos and surveyed the small Once-Sanctuary. The small pen with a wooden fence kept the animals in well enough, Apollo was trying to cook over a fire as Iaso scratched vigorously at her hand, and Chiron helped Asclepius in the creation of a spear. They will do good...

Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 12:16 am

History of the Exiles Page Five

"Lady Nyx! Lady Nyx!"

It was, reflected Nyx, mildly ironic that the ones most forward and uninhibited with her were the children. Not that the others were alltogether afraid to approach her, oh no, they came to her often for advice on everything from the continued clothes spinning project, to settling minor disputes (mostly between Adrian and Favian). Their respect for her was evident, and Marina and Adrian had landed up in more than one brief battle while vying for a duty she was assigning, or a word of praise she was handing out.

At the same time, they maintained a kind of reveretial distance. They would not, for instance, address her with the easy familiarity they did each other. And they would certainly not think to come scampering up to her at her spot seated on the pool-side rock that evening, and plop their hands on her knees while leaning forward in an enthusiastic but unsuccesful attempt to look up under her hood.

"Yes?" she asked, giving the blond boy a smile even as she leaned back to gently thwart his attempts. The child looked momentarily disappointed, but soon perked up as he apparently remembered his purpose. His two companions--one the little girl from earlier, the other a lanky, older child--were hanging back a little, and he glanced at them before turning back to her.

"Everyone has a name except us," he complained dolefully.

"That's not true." Nyx had to suppress a smile at his mournful tone. "There are still four adults who haven't." Said adults were still at their various tasks tending the animals, sharpening flints and stoking the fire, or busy with the pile of fleece that had accumulated after Adrian and Levin had decided to work off the after-effects of the morning's visions, by adding their efforts to the shearing. Every sheep in the makeshift pen was now naked and forlorn-looking.

"But they're grownup, they're...big!" The boy made an over-valiant attempt at a gesture evidently intended to indicate the full size and superiority of the grown-up folk, but which nearly succeeded instead in making him topple over. "They'll find names! But we--" Here, he broke off, and exchanged words for a comically doleful look.

Nyx was beginning to understand the purpose of his expedition now, and the urge to laugh was growing stronger. "So you want me to choose one for you, is that it?" she asked. "The both of you too?" This was aimed at the two girls standing behind him. Both exchanged timid glances, then nodded vigorously, mimicked so enthusiastically by the little boy that his entire body seemed to bob up and down.

"I don't know..." Nyx hesitated, wavering. She sincerely felt that it would be best for her people to find their own names. But was it expecting too much of these young children? As it turned out, she didn't have to dither on the decision much longer, for the precocious child before her came up with something that clinched the matter.

"Pleeeeeeease?" he implored, putting every ounce of stress possible on stretching out the syllable.

"Allright, allright, I give in." Nyx gave him a helpless smile, unable to resist any longer. "I'll pick a name for you...and yes, your two companions as well." This evoked squeals of delight from the two girls, who abandoned their earlier reticence to come scampering forward up to her side.

Ignoring the little boy's whoop of joy, Nyx set her mind earnestly to the task before her. She ran mentally through the names she knew, lifting each one, turning it over and examining it before pronouncing it unfit and moving on to the next. Now that she had agreed to the task, she would not put anything less than all her effort into it. It was as she had told them on the very first day: A name did not limit or define you, but it gave you a sense of identity nonetheless, and was thus not something to be taken lightly.

"Pascal." The word had left her lips before she was quite aware of it, so delightfully true did it ring. "That will be your name henceforth. Pascal." She laid her hand lightly on the child's blonde locks as she said it. It was the first time she had made physical contact with any of her people, and while the boy seemed to treat it as no important event, it was momentous to her nonetheless.

"Pascal!" repeated the little boy gleefully. "I like it! Thank you, Lady Nyx!" Turning around, he waved his arm vigorously in an attempt to attract the rest of his fellow humans. "Did you hear that?" When this elicited no response other than a few abstracted nods, he scowled, and tore off across the garden, yelling his new name aloud for all to hear.

Eyes dancing with laughter, Nyx turned to the two girls who stood waiting with considerably more patience and restraint. The process of selection proved to be easier this time, for names sprung unbidden to her lips within a few moments of searching.

"Terra." This was directed to the younger of the two children, Pascal's chubby dark-haired playmate. "Solace." And this to the taller, more lanky girl. She smiled. "Those are your names now." As she had done with Pascal, she laid her hand on each of their heads for a brief moment, feeling as if the gesture was somehow a fitting touch for the occasion. The girls' faces lit up, and they mouthed hasty thanks as well, ducking their heads to her before turning to race after the boy.

Nyx leaned back, a wonderful feeling of warmth within her, and raised her eyes to the sky once more.

She was tired by the day's exertions. Not physical exhaustion, for she had done next to nothing that required her to exert herself physically. It had caused her some niggling feelings of guilt, but she was simply not the kind of person comfortable with flinting spears or arrowheads, or slaughtering animals. The latter in particular, she flinched at the thought of. One consolation was that there was little, if at all any, need for her to do anything, for her people were certainly bold and initiative-taking enough to cope well on their own with only verbal guidance.

And she had certainly given plenty of that. She had talked till her throat was sore, pointing out ways to better weave the wool so the resulting fabric would be smoother, teaching them to use bramble thorns as needles, advising them on which berries would be safe and which poisonous, settling minor squabbles, and trying to instil in them the principles she believed in and lived by. The novelty of all this activity still struck her at moments, and it was with no small amount of relief that she welcomed the moments of solitude that she had while they were hard at work. It was not that she was tired of them, no, in fact, she grew closer to them every day. It was simply that she was not extroverted by nature, and while her position demanded it of her, some time alone with her thoughts and the chance to clear and calm her mind, was not unwelcome.

As always, she drifted easily into thoughtfulness. There were many things in her mind, all jostling for room and attention, and it was some time before she could bring any calm to the disorder and sort through them one at the time. First, of course, there was the thought of the impending expedition the next day. This was not particularly pressing, she doubted any excursion to a place so close, and as benign as the bank of a river, could pose any great threat. But it was important to her people, and by extension, to her.

Closer to her heart, were plans for the future. She, who rarely planned beforehand or weighed herself down with heavy and concise thoughts if she could help it, was now being made to lay out with painstaking detail her schemes for the next day, and the day after that. The clothing was coming along well, she was sure everyone would be clothed by the following day. Marina and Bona had, after picking up the basics of sewing, quickly begun to improvise, innovate, and add their own patterns and cuts to the clothing. The result had been more sets of breeches, and for the women, simple dresses that crossed across the shoulders and left the arms bare, and reached to the knee.

When they had extended their forays to the forest, she thought, there would be fur to add to their repertoire of materials. Leather too, perhaps. She would have to start teaching them to cultivate; the process could be started with simple herbs and useful plants. After that would come the domestication of animals, construction of dwelling places, and--this was of special interest to her--teaching them to read and write.

She sighed. So much to do...

They had traveled more south east and eastwards but it wasn't too long until the found a few animals. They were just a couple of deer but that was more than enough. Blake smiled and turned to Amelia happily, "Let's go after them!" He said, taking a few steps forwards, Damien and John knew not too.

Amelia hand reached out and grabbed onto his hair, pulling him back like a child. "Oww..." He whined as Amelia stared at him, holding onto his hair tight. She glared at him and pushed him into a sitting position on the ground. Damien and John were starring at him, muttering 'idiot' under their breath.

"What was that for?!" He said quickly and relatively loudly. Amelia sighed, right now she wished she hadn't had stopped him. Then he could have learned his lesson on his own. Although, they couldn't afford to have a wounded person so she had to stop him.

She crossed her arms and looked more to Damien and John than Blake. "Those animals over there are deer." She pointed. "They aren't necessarily dangerous creatures although," She looked over to Blake, "When they are threatened by a predator, they will either run off or attack back. Usually they only attack back when they feel as though they aren't in a life threatening situation and can handle themselves." Damien and John nodded while Blake looked away from Amelia. Her words were a moral wound for him.

She sighed after seeing Blake got the point and looked back to the deer. "Since they are not dangerous creatures by nature, there is no reason to kill them-"

"Then why are we hunting them?" Asked John.

Amelia looked to him, "We're hunting them because we need them. For food," she grimaced at the thought, "weapon and more. As long as we can use every remain we have of them, there is no reason to kill more than one." They all nodded and Blake stood back up.

"If we take more than what we need, than it will go to waste. If we take less, than we must go out again. So, if we take how much we need the first time, it won't cause any stress." They nodded, half understanding. "Although," Amelia continued, "We must give back as well." they starred at her, not understanding in the least bit.

Amelia sighed. "These animals give us their blood, bones, fur and flesh. It is important that we give back to them so we can thank them for giving us what they have."

"How do we do that?" Asked Blake this time.

Amelia smiled, "If we only take how much we need and make sure the land grows and flourishes, they will have a place to grow, live and eat. It's basically sharing the land." They nodded all at once, it seemed as though they got the main points. They shouldn't take more than they need, they shouldn't kill for no reason and they should take of the land so that they can thank them.

"Now then..." Amelia stretched, "Go on." They starred at her. She sighed, "Kill one." She pointed to the one in the group. Although there were four of them. There appeared to be one male, a child, and two females. One was much bigger than the other and Amelia pointed to the skinnier one.

"Why that one?" Blake asked. A little confused.

"Because the other is going to have a child." Damien spoke up this time and the three of them starred at him, amazed. Amelia had no idea how he knew, but he was right. This was where Amelia stepped in.

"Damien's right. If we kill that one, it would be like killing two of them. The other female is more than enough for all of us." She smiled to them all, "Don't make her suffer, okay? And please, leave her corpse in a condition I can bring back." They starred at her for a moment, and decided that she didn't want to have blood all over her. With a slight nod from Damien, they chased after the doe as Amelia watched up until the point of it's death.

It wasn't until a little while later that they had come back to Laeray and they started to skin the doe. Amelia felt a little bad for it but knew that the rest would be able to survive. Following it's skinning, she had told everyone to use every last piece of it. Alexander had started up a fire and they had placed a stone on top (which Amelia had washed throughly) and the men watched it cook.

Damien had, perhaps, been the only one out the the three who had killed it to take the bones from the carcass and make weapons out of them. It seemed as though she had taught them more than enough to survive for a little while. As well, their common sense had come around.

After everyone had eaten a rather early dinner, she told them it was time to visit the river and they followed after her as she led the way. By the time they reached the river, it was already almost nightfall. I guess I'll start with the building of a shelter tomorrow. She thought as the girls and children all played in the river first while the men watched.

"Alexander," Amelia came up to him as they all played, "I'd like to ask a favor of you." He looked to her surprised. He hadn't expected her to ask him for anything at a time like this. "Tonight I'm going to be gone until dawn. There's some business I have to attend to. Since this world is quite large, I've decided to visit one of the others like me. We've met before but I want to see how their group of humans are doing." He looked a little confused at that. "Umm... group of people like you. There are others like you with other people like me helping you out." She coughed, trying to get back onto topic, "In any case, if I don't return by dawn, make sure everyone is okay. If you ever need me, just call out, or rather." She looked to the ground, "Call out through the ground."

Alexander seemed to have understood and nodded. "I will, don't worry." Amelia smiled and nodded, she felt more relived all of a sudden.

"Alright then!" She spun around and looked to the children and girls, "Time for the men, out!" They groaned a bit but switched and Aya came up to her.

"Amelia," She said softly like always, "We've made clothes for everyone." Amelia blinked and starred at her. She didn't understand how they could have made clothes for everyone already. It seemed as though while Amelia and the men were out, they were really working hard. Although, she had to keep thinking about how they could have made clothes for everyone with so little material. She sighed, the world was certainly strange.

Aya continued on though, noticing her confusion and surprise, "We started to work on them yesterday. The measurements I mean. When we get back to the village I'll show everyone. It was hard, but we managed to get the work done." Amelia was still confused but nodded none-the-less. her people were certainly beginning to think on their own and she was proud.

"Alright then!' She called, grabbing everyone's attention. "Time to head back!' They cheered slightly before Amelia walked up to Damien. He was a little surprised, still standing in the water and starred at her. Amelia leaned in towards him and flicked him on the forehead before pushing him into the water. Then she turned around and walked off with everyone else while Damien starred after her.

He rubbed his forehead and got out, picking up his spear and following after them, wondering what that was about. Then he thought back to earlier. When he had surprised her. Now he knew, she was getting him back for not talking. With a sigh, he caught up and they all made their way back as a large group.

By the time they arrived, Aya, Ildri and Chelsea had run off to fetch the clothes while Alexander started another fire. He had put out the previous one because they were leaving and he remembered the words Amelia said when teaching him. She said that fire was dangerous and he felt as though he couldn't leave a dangerous thing alone.

By the time everyone had gotten their clothes on, they all started to feel warmer and Amelia smiled. It seemed as though, to her, they were looking more like human beings now. The clothes were rather normal, in fact, they looked just like her drawings. For the boys, a simple, short sleeved shirt and trousers and for the girls, shirts as well and a few short skirts. Amelia didn't really understand why the skirts were so short, being only at their fingers when their arms were down, but Amelia guessed they had been like that so that everyone could have something to wear.

"Okay!" Amelia called out, the children the only ones jumping this time as they all sat around the fire. "Tomorrow we're going to be building a house!" They all stared at her and she guessed she had to explain what a house was. She sighed and continued, "A building where one can sleep, eat and survive. It protects us from the elements and I'll be growing the trees in a short time. As well, Ildri, Aya and Chelsea will be working with the children with the animal hide from the doe and thinking of ways to use it. While doing that, they will watch over the animals in the pen as well."

She looked to Damien, Blake, John and Alexander. "As for these four, Damien will be the only one staying behind to watch over you all. I will be with them so that the construction goes over well. I expect you all to be good."

She smiled to the children and they came up with the sticks and Amelia nodded to them all. They nodded back and she went off with the children to the east where they grew a few trees, about three, and came back. Amelia was tired but she smiled and began to hum her song as everyone fell asleep.

When it was dark out, and she knew they were all sleeping, she got up from her short rest and nodded to Alexander, who had taken her watch. Without another word, she dashed off in the direction of Roet's Sanctuary and hoped he would be there.

Jikrae was quite unappreciative of Ember's reaction to what he had believed to be a very cordial greeting. He returned Ember's calculating gaze, trying his best to determine as many things about this obvious enemy of his before he acted on impulse.

Clearly Ember controlled fire, and he made no attempt to hide the fact that his people were frightened of those unlike them or that they would use military might to preserve their own existence. He was hateful, obviously, and he was not a pacifistic person. He remembered people like this from his dreams. This was the kind of person who would conquer others with no regard toward his enemies' well-being.

Jikrae stepped forward, stamping his feet purposefully on the grass on the edge of Ember's Camp. The lightning leaping from his eyes grew more powerful and violent, illuminating the grey-black skin of Jikrae's face. Thankfully, he managed to resist the impulse to throw a punch at this wretched monster, and instead he uttered a warning.

"I am telling you that you should not lie to me. And I am requesting, for your sake, that you leave my Kingdom and the Kingdoms of my allies alone, for as powerful as you might be, if you dare to set foot on my territory, I will destroy you and your people. Fire is a useless ability compared to what I command, and you will have no chance of success while attacking the fortress I have built."

Jikrae was lying and bluffing quite a bit, but he fully believed what he said. Time was still slightly alien to him, and his first intention was to build a fortress and design new weapons for his people. Because of this, he felt that he was telling the whole truth, and so his voice echoed his thoughts of superiority over this pathetic Exile who had dared to threaten him.

"If you dare to, follow me. I promise you, you shall drown in the torrents of water that would crash on top of you. Stay away from me and those I call friends and you'll survive the rest of this year. Challenge me and I'll crush you under the weight of your own mediocrity."

Jikrae didn't want to hear anything else as he turned and bolted off to the South, away from his own Kingdom. He intended to double back out-of-sight of Ember and his people, misleading him into believing that Jikrae was camped elsewhere. Eventually, Ember was bound to realize this, but Jikrae doubted that such a thing would happen soon.

Nothing. Dunaldra saw nothing around her, not under her or above her either. She felt as if she was floating into the darkness, floating into a bottomless pit. She did not even know if she eyes were open or not, for there was nothing but the pitch black dark expance. She did not know if she could hear through her ears or not, for no sounds could be heard in the unknown. She did not even know if she could speak, for again there were no voices. Why was she so alarmed by it all?

Wait, she felt a shiver up her spine as something came from the unknown. Wind? Perhaps, she could not tell what was coming at her. It was cold, and yet soothing to feel. It was comforting to know there was something else inside the nothingness she was trapped in. Dunaldra knew she was not alone, even if it was just the breeze accompaning her into the great unknown.

Wait, she could now see something in front of her. Duna could see after all! A speck of light, but no less there was light! However, it was so far away, too far for her to reach. She needed more light, she needed to see more. Suddenly, she was moving, working her way towards the light. Even then, the light simply would not get closer. Was this a trick? Who was trying to fool into thinking she could see? Then, without warning, the little light disappeared, forcing her back into complete darkness.

Dunaldra felt something cold and smooth run down her cheeks to her chin. Water? No, they were bitter and salty when they reached her lips. Tears, then, but were they in sorrow. No, they were angry tears. Tears of frustration that her struggles got her no where near the light. All her trials and hopes were flushed away into the darkness, placing her back into ignorance of what was to become of her. She dispised being used, but there seemed like she could do nothing. No way to control herself and her own life.

When it seemed like all hope was lost, a burst of light came from where the speck was before. There was so much of it, it practically blinded Dunaldra! Suddenly, her ears seemed to be openned as she heard a piercing cry. Was it her own? She did not know, all that she did know was that as the light erupted in front of her, darkness overcame her once more. It was not the floating darkness she had experianced before, but rather a dazed feeling of sleep overcoming her.

It seemed like there was so much weight against her when her eyes fluttered and began to open. Dunaldra groaned as she shut her eyes, a bright light all around her now. Knowning she could not hide from it any longer, she openned her eyes and looked around her. She was no longer floating in the darkness! Instead, she was laying on the dirt ground while her head was tilted up and looking up into the sky. There was no clouds in the sky, just the one bright orb known as the sun shinning down it's rays of life onto her body.

Dunaldra let another groan sounds from her body as she moved her arms, pushing herself off from the ground and into a sitting position. However, she could get a good look at her surroundings now that she was not lying down. Of course, there was nothing to look at. All around her was just a barren wasteland, only a few green shrubberies scattered across the plains. At first, she wanted to complain about the bare lands around her, but there was no one around her. No one to hear her cries, or her footsteps as she walked. She was all alone in a land she did not know.

With no other ideas, Dunaldra forced her legs to move and got to her feet. The ground seemed wobbly at first, but the woman soon got her bearings. Taking a few steps at a time, she began to make progress and walk across the land. Where would she go, she thought to herself as she slowly walked around, aimlessly trying to find where she was, and why she was there.

Roet stood up, balancing on the fountain, "Gather 'round, everyone. I'd like a word!" slowly, everyone came to the fountain. Everyone had done a great job. So far, at least. Roet noted that everyone seemed to be trying very hard to please him. Well, they do have to survive... Roet thought, then spoke aloud, "Friends. My people. Brothers! Sisters! I am proud to say that you are all working to a greater extent than I had originally expected. You have all impressed my beyond gratitude!" They all beamed. "I would like to express this gratitude, then, by doing something for you. We need something builr either in or around this Sanctuary. We are going to build a house and a wall. This will take a great amount of time, and it will almost completely encircle this Santuary. Our home will be protected!" Asclepius lifted a hand to Roet, "what will our jobs be, and which will we do first?"

Roet smiled, "This forst will be the wall. It will not take as long, though it will take more labor. Apollo, tomorrow you, Chiron, and Telesforos will go looking for somewhere with many stones. likely in the direction of thos emountains, but not too far. Everyone else, tomorrow, will have to start digging. We will need mud, unless I can think of something els that will work..."

"Dunaldra, mistress of illusions. You were surprisingly forthright for someone who mastered the art of deception. Although the comparativeness of Truth and Illusion are debatable. Bah, but I ramble on about things that hold no importance in this place."

The Craftsman was walking just behind Dunaldra. His steps were long and purposeful, his coat swished around his legs. His mustaches twitched slightly. "Dunaldra, you're later than I expected. You must have fought very hard if it took you this long to arrive here. I admire your determination, even if it could be called folly." He increased his pace so that he was walking right next to her.

He grabbed her hand. "I am sorry for this hurried and rather rude awakening. However the stone council is meeting soon and I don't want you at a disadvantage. This is a fair world if I can help things." His lifeless metal eyes reflected the sunset. "Already our second day here is almost over, and you are only just arriving." He turned around, taking a single step.

They were now standing on a rocky outcropping. Several islands of stone and hard earth jutted out of the deep valleys of cracked mud. Small pools of water were already gathering at the bottom.

"Streams are carving their way through the stone, blades of defiant grass are pushing up through the sand, trees are digging their roots deep into the earth. The Gardens are beginning to expand and adapt. This world is close to breathing again." He made an extravagant flourish with his spindly hand. "However your garden is in an area that will not breathe deeply. I suspect that this place will forever remain a desert. I daresay that should prove advantageous for you, sand has always been beneficial for you." He smiled. "In a way, you are the most powerful being on this planet now, but don't get used to it. Very soon you will govern one of the last deserts."

He pointed to the East. "You are closest to a man named Ember. Though he is by no means close by and shall probably not interfere. I'm sure that even now some deep instinct in you is being tugged. Ember is a fierce foe, indeed, but his particular brand of strength can be useful at times."

He pointed to the Northeast. "Over beyond those mountains is Ave. She is by what will soon be an ocean, the largest ocean in the land. She is a decent and kind soul. Spirited, too."

He pointed to the West. "There will be another ocean there, beyond that ocean you will need to cross the world and come eventually to Toucan. Who, I suspect, will create a metal metropolis that will be a beauty to behold. You would need to cross almost the entire other hemisphere to get to her."

He pointed to the Southeast. "The library. The South pole of our world. Already it is beginning to grow cold...I imagine that it will become little more than an icy wasteland soon. The Acolyte of Light will reside on a desolate island continent not too far from there. He is currently wasting his time in the library, so I am guessing that he will be far behind."

He turned to her. "There is your garden behind you. You have very little time to get them ready. The stone council meets very soon."

As Nyx had expected, the sun had barely begun to rise on the third day before her people were up and about. It was neither a change in sleeping habits nor any sudden desire to be up at cockcrow, but of course, the excitement of the pending expedition.

She sighed to herself on the spot by the pool, for this early wakening also meant an early resuming of the quarrel of who got to go, and who didn't.

And sure enough, while the less interested parties quickly fell into their usual routine of performing their morning ablutions at the brook, and gathering breakfast (another sheep had been slaughtered yesterday, and this time, part of the mutton still remained), Adrian and Marina came marching determinedly up to her and stood before her with their arms folded before them. They were followed not long after by Favian, and Bona, and predictably, a very excited Pascal. Nyx had to restrain the urge to rub her forehead.

Much to the disappointment of the assembled people, she firmly refused to come to any decisions right away, pointing out that it was only just dawn and they would certainly not be setting out to do any form of explaining until the sun was high in the sky. It was simply safer, and what was more, they had tasks of their own to perform before they could set out. So, with either philosophical resignment or pouty bad grace, they were turned away to tend to setting the garden at right, seeing to the sheep, raking the ashes of the fire aside, and the like.

On Nyx's part, there was another cause for satisfaction. All her people now had names. Imogen, Nigel, Silas and Janus had been added to those who had selected a nomen for themselves, and now, each had a name to identify themselves by and set them apart from the rest. Not only that, but their choices were all ones that rang smoothly with her and settled soothingly on the tongue. She was well pleased.

Finally, she could put off the selection no longer, and was compelled to make her choices known. Truth be told, she had decided the previous night itself, during one of her periods of thoughtfulness.

Her selections were Bona, Levin, Favian and Nigel. After waiting patiently for Adrian and Marina to recover from their disappointment and stop protesting petulantly, she explained to them that she needed them to stay back and watch over the garden, as well as continue the work that needed to be done. While this was true, there was another reason. These two did not lack in enthusiasm and vitality, while those she had chosen were fast showing an inclination to be followers rather than leaders. She wanted to give them a chance to take the initiative as well.

The rest of the people took it with equanimity, especially as she promised them that they would now begin making similar forays everyday, to the forests even, and that their turns would come soon. Pascal cribbed a little at being left behind, but submitted with sulky grace.

Bona and Levin were of course, estatic. Levin ran off immediately to the area where the menfolk had been collecting the weapons and tools they had made. When he returned, he was holding an unusual weapon in his hands.

Nyx took it curiously from him. To her surprise, what she was holding was recognizable as a simple, but functional bow. The curved section had been made from a whittled piece of spry, bendable wytchwood, and it was strung with a length of gut from one of the sheep. She tested the cord, and it was taut, and vibrated well.

"Levin, this is wonderful. How did you make this?" she asked with surprise.

"We saw a person holding it in the visions you showed us," replied Levin, flushing with pleasure at the praise. "It wasn't very clear, but Adrian and I talked over it, and figured out how it could be made."

"Do you have arrows for it?"

"Yep." Adrian had come up to join them as well. Apparently having overheard the tail end of their conversation, he carried a bunch of the afore-mentioned implements, one of which he selected and held up with evident pride. "We've made others, too," he added, seemingly anxious to make up for his being passed over as a choice for this trip to the river.

"Hmm," Nyx examined the slim willow shaft with the carved bone arrowhead affixed to it. "It's very good, but you'll need to fletch it with feathers before it will fly well. There should be birds at the river. Also, Levin, if you have anything similar to a hatchet, or axe, take it along. We can't keep diminishing the wood supplies of our garden." With a smile, she handed the arrow back to Adrian. Bona, Marina and the other two men had joined them by now, and she noted that both the young women had taken it upon themselves to add personal touches to their clothing by the addition of added decorations. Marina had apparently used berry juice and a leaf to make fairly attractive leaf-shaped prints on hers, and Bona wore a thin vine with a berry strung on it around her neck.

After some more discussion, Nyx decided they had best get going, and beckoned to them to follow. They crossed over to the side of the garden where the babbling brook ran, and followed alongside its banks.

The brook, though it was little more than a couple of feet wide, was delightful to look at, with the cheery waters that rippled and splashed over its rocky bed. They had scarcely been following it for five minutes, before it began to widen and hold more water. When she glanced back over her shoulder, the garden was already shrunken to a small size in their vision. Still, the harsh desert had long since been replaced by grass and the tiny firstcomers of wildflowers, and under the open sky and sun, there was no great feeling of distance or sundering.

At one point, a flock of wildfowl flew over their heads with the sound of squawks and beating wings, and Levin let loose a yelp and pulled something from his pocket. When, moments later, a limp bird crashed to the ground before them and he proudly displayed the slingshot formed from a length of dried and taut hide, Nyx was not even surprised this time.

Some fifteen minutes after they had set out, the sound of water finally reached their ears. The brook had widened to its full extent, and as she had suspected, intersected with a river. It was not a particularly large river, being only several feet wide at its widest extent and much the same in depth. Still, like the little tributary that had led them to it, the crystalline waters rippled and roared merrily, creating little foam-flecked eddied and whirlpools. Thickets of trees graced the other side of the bank, and several overhung the rushing waters on their bank as well.

Nyx knelt by the grassy bank as her companions roamed around, taking in their surroundings with interest. She dipped a hand in the water, it felt refreshingly cold. Some way beneath the surface, she could see speckled trout and tiny minnows.

"Nigel," she called softly, and the man came over to her.

"Yes, Lady Nyx?" he asked, hefting the spear he carried.

For answer, Nyx pointed to the fish in the river. "Why don't you try your hand at spearing some of those? They will make an interesting catch to take home." She smiled at him and rose to her feet, gathering up her robes and crossing over to Bona, Levin and Favian, who were examining a thatch of small-leaved, sweet-smelling plants by the bank. As she reached them, Bona had just broken off a leaf and crushing it, sniffed at it.

"It smells so wonderful," she exclaimed. Nyx broke off a leaf herself, and examined it the same way Bona had.

"Thyme," she replied after a few moments. "It's a herb. It's good for treating wounds, and also for adding to food." Examination of the surrounding regions proved to find several more scattered herbs such as tea plants, and saplings of flowering or fruit-bearing trees. Under Nyx's guidance, some of them were carefully loosened and lifted from the soil, with the intention of being carried back to the garden and transplanted. To her delight, Favian, wandering further down the bank, also discovered some wild wheat growing in a particularly soggy area. This too, was appropriated.

All said and done, she thought an hour or so later, the trip had proved to be more fruitful than she could have hoped for. Their spoils not included the plants, but a brace of wild geese--Levin had proved to be most dextrous with his slingshot--and several fish, the latter having proved more difficult to spear. The riverbank was also a source of damp, glutinous clay, as Nigel had discovered to his detriment when he strayed too far in an attempt to spear a fish, and ended up slipping and almost going right into the water, saved only by timely action by Favian.

Nyx spoke nothing to her companions, but her mind was already working with schemes to see the clay transformed into bricks that would be used to construct sturdy homes to protect them from the elements. They would need to build a domed furnace first, for firing the bricks, that would require several more trips and bringing more people here to help. And while she was at it, she would have to ask the men to divert part of their weapon-making ingenuity and attention to the construction of simple tools such as spades, hoes and the like...her mind ran on.

Also importantly, they had discovered a source of fresh water that was within fairly easy access, and could be used for bathing and ablutions. In her mind, she was already imagining the children's delight when they spied the place. For, now that they knew the way, frequent trips could be made without her needing to accompany them any longer.

When she finally declared that it was time to return, it was difficult to tear her people away from the sparkling river. Bona had been sitting by the bank for the past half hour, dangling her feet in the cool shallows while Levin made fervent but vain attempts to inveigle Nigel into letting him borrow the spear and try his hand at spearing fish {this earned him a smack on the back of the head and a growled rebuke from Favian, who pointed out that there were four of them, and they already had an assortment of plants and limp bundles of feathers to carry back}. At length however, she managed to draw them away, and tired but satisfied, they began the trek back towards the garden.

She was sitting in a tree as all of the people in the secluded area crowded around. They stared at her in wonder and awe, as she merely looked on in amusement. They reminded her of small, scared animals. Like little rabbit she could just pounce on and rip to shreds for her dinner. Except for the men; they were far bigger than her. But she bet, if she tackled them hard enough, they would collapse.

The area within the brick walls was strange. Odd looking plants grew everywhere; there were some bushes with food inside, including little animals. There were no homes, no huts. There was no lake, only a small river. And, what caught her off gaurd, was that the animals didn't seem to be afraid of the people.

Eora didn't know how she knew that they were supposed to fear, that they were supposed to live in mall houses, how they were supposed to bathe. She didn't know. Perhaps from a past life? One that the Craftsman had taken her from? If he had, it was probably for the better. But who the hell was Craftsman? What did he have to do with anything?

A giggle erupted from her throat as she stared down at the defenseless people below her. A man from the back with short black hair and big blue eyes asked why she was giggling. She ceased immediately and launched off of the branch. They moved out of the way quickly, so she landed close enough to talk to him, instead of shouting over the crowd.

"I'm giggling," she began, walking closer. "Because you're all naked."

"What?" one of the girls asked. Eora spun to look at her. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you don't have any clothes on."

"What are those?" the black haired boy asked.

"Like what I'm wearing. Only I guess the boy's would wear something different...."

"Why should we wear anything at all?" another girl snapped, storming forward. "We were born and brought here this way, so why should we live any different."

Eora glared at the girl, but quickly covered it with a smile and a giggle. She skipped forward, secretly pulling out a knife. "You're exposed. In a fight, they could slice your clothes, but miss you. If you're naked, they'll slice you. And, besides," she strolled easily towards an older, brown haired boy. She was pulling her dagger closer to her front. "You might" she pressed the dagger very low on his body, not harming him, only showing them. "lose" she pulled it away. "something."

The boy gulped, and Eora couldn't control her giggles any longer. She kept the dagger touching his skin and slowly slid it up his chest to his shoulder. He was entertainment to her, but she also did feel some amount of pity for him, for all of them. They were so confused, so scared, so innocent. She looked him in the eye, and wasn't surprised to find fear blatantly presenting itself within them.

"What's your name?" she asked sweetly.

"I-I.... I th-think it's J-J-James," he stammered. Eora smiled and put her weapon up. He noticably relaxed, but it seemed as though they did finally realize what kind of person she was. Some had edged away, others seemed paralized with shock or fear, many were still staring in wonder. It annoyed her.

"Are you people afraid of me or not??!" she half screamed. It reverberated through the trees, and she realized how mean it had seemed. Some nodded, some didn't reply, and it only annoyed her further.

"Anyways, what am I supposed to be doing here anyways?"

Many shrugged. A voice in her head put in a suggestion:

Why don't you ask the Craftsman? He'd know. He's the one that brought you here.....

Amelia had seen Roet's Sanctuary, even from how far away she was. She was quite happy that everything seemed to be going well. As well, it seemed as though grass would be growing in the area soon. How she could tell, she wasn't too sure, but she knew that it would. That was all she needed to know for now.

As usual, there was a large dust cloud behind her as she ran, although sa she came closer to the village, she was slowing down considerably, hoping to stop just outside so she wouldn't raise a disturbance. Although plans were never supposed to go as they were planned.

"Roet!" She called, when she came near the village, although, since she was still running, this time at the speed of a human, she tripped over a rock just as she was about to stop and rolled into the village. Her body finally stopping just a little bit away from where they grass stopped.

She groaned and lay there, face first into the dirt for a moment before lifting her head and sighing, looking around. Everything was still a blur, so she wasn't too sure of how far she had fallen but once she sat up and rubbed her head, she felt the grass beneath her. I'm so dead... She thought as she looked around for the form of Roet.

"Simple, Eora. You may do whatever you want with these people."

His voice reverberated around the entire garden. It sounded almost like thunder rumbling it was so loud. Then the craftsman appeared, walking out from behind a tree and bowing respectfully. He had thought it prudent to give her a small demonstration of power. She was unpredictable, at best.

"I see you're still your old self. And that you somehow managed to hold onto your old weapons. I'm rather glad. I made them for you, after all. And I hate to lose good works of art." He cast his eyes to the East, the sun was just above the horizon.

"Day three has begun..."

He coughed and turned towards Eora. "These are your people, you may do what you wish with them. I imagine that being in close proximity to you will make them somewhat...unstable. You've always had that effect on nature." He laughed. "I always thought you were great fun." His long braid twitched slightly. "Raise a civilization, leave them to here. It's up to you."

He turned, "I imagine you have questions. All of you do. You may ask them at the stone council. Follow the Bell. For now, though, I have a particularly stagnant exile to guide."

***

The Craftsman's voice boomed throughout the library. The voice was so loud that it shook the very walls. It only roared one sentence to the Exile who stood at the base of the library.

"LEAVE! WALK SOUTHEAST. YOUR GARDEN AWAITS YOUR GUIDANCE!"

Roet, still balanced on the fountain, stumbled to the ground as he heard someone from behind call his name. he slipped, fell, and barely managed to dodge the hard fountain as his head hit the ground. He jumped up as Telesforos and Chiron jumped forward and Polidarius drew a spear. "Whoa. WHOA!" Polidarius stopped as he walked towards Amelia, who was still down. Roet stepped passed him, trying to identify the form when-

"Amelia!" he shouted and jumped forward. He grabbed both of her arms and pulled her up. When she was once again on her feet, Roet turned to the rest of his people, "Everyone, this is Amelia, she is a fellow Exile, and friend." He turned back to Amelia, "Though I know you have some people to take care of, so why are you here?"

Her children were doing well. She had sat observing them all of the last day. To her joy, they had found a decent supply of varying plants which they could eat. The animals they had not touched; rather, they had included them in their group, befriending them and letting them join in under the tree for sleep. It seemed, in the hunter-gatherer phase of her people, they had left out the hunter side. It made her glad; red meat was never a delicacy she ever had a specific taste for, and she much preferred animals when they were alive. They could be just as entertaining as humans as times.

She also noticed, with excitement, that the blonde haired boy was held somewhat reverently. They were as friendly and pleasant as ever, but they treated differently, almost like a sort of royalty. Out of all of them, it made the most sense, his delicate features made him the most noble of the group. Though, Ave happily noticed, all of them were quite noble looking and would most likely produce the most beautiful people of this world. Still perched on her rock, she stood up, silently scanning their current process. They still had not discovered fire, but that did not particularly worry her. This place was temperate and comfortable, and their steady diet of plants and roots would not need to be cooked at the moment.

She smiled, a silent laugh making her features sparkle. Right now would be the perfect time for another visit. She leapt down from her post and began to walk towards the rapidly expanding patch of green. Immediately when she came into view, one spotted her and quickly beckoned the others. By the time she had reached her preaching rock, as she liked to think of it, all were assembled, the blonde boy in front again, while the others were varied behind. She gave them a huge grin, and sat atop the rock. They all smiled back shyly; the blonde boy’s face the most eager.

“Well my little children, another day, another lesson. But first, how goes my commandment?” She looked at them all eagerly, secretly hoping there would be questions.

One of the girls, who looked around fourteen, spoke up, “What does it mean…to love?” Her eyes, filled with inquisition were the soft, grey, almost purple, eyes that had captivated Ave earlier. Her hair was a darker brown than most of the others, and her skin was a smooth, pale, cream color.

“Ah, yes, of course. But you’ve all experienced it yourself already.” She looked around at all of them, the smile still on her face. “While you survive and grow closer together, and experience, that is love. As long as there is one thing that you can attest to, and know with all your heart, that is love.” Her face was beaming now. “And while my commandment may mean love in the literal sense, it also describes life itself. Love comes from happiness, joy, pleasure. You love what makes you happy. So be happy my children. Love what you may, and happiness will come with it. Pleasure is yours for the taking, you must simply find it, and pluck it from its stem.” She saw comprehension and awe on their faces; obviously their grasp of language had already developed nicely in the last days. “So, my dears, find what makes you happy, because nothing is off limit.”

Most looked pleasantly surprised, but all seemed to grasp it. They looked at each other in newfound wonder, each thinking their own secret thoughts. The blonde boy looked up at her thoughtfully, but remained silent. The dark haired girl, who seemed to be thinking the same thing, spoke up yet again, “…Ave…that is your name…but what are ours? How are we to have a purpose if we have no identity?” Though not the leader, she was clearly the speaker, and most curious, of the group.

Ave smiled at her gently, but spoke rather excitedly, “Don’t you see, you do not need a name to have an identity. You already have one, and everything you need is already there. But, I understand you hesitation. Things without names are unknown, and thus feared in a way. So put a name to your own identity, and it will form itself.” At the looks of confusion from a few, she continued, never one to put a stop to her own rambling. “You are what makes you happy. So name yourself something that you find to be happy. It can be sounds, it can be things; it is for you to decide!” She had leaned forward without realizing it and was staring intensely at them, her eyes an intense, bright yellow.

A small girl, about six, spoke up timidly. Ave noticed, she had already woven several discarded feathers into her hair, all varying shades and hues. “Feather,” she said softly, “that is my name…” She looked down, a blush creeping up on her young features. Both her eyes and her hair were a golden brown and seemed to shine with the sun on it.

Ave grinned, excitement flooding her senses. “And you,” she said, indicating the dark haired girl, “what makes you happy?”

She returned the exile’s smile warmly. Her grey-purple eyes shone brightly. “Sil…” she spoke clearly, no sense of uncertainty in her voice, “that is my name…”

Soon all of them started speaking up. The seventeen year old male, with his light brown hair, and his hazel eyes burning intensely, named himself Hark. A female, who looked to be nine, with the auburn hair and dark thoughtful brown eyes, was soon dubbed Tye. The last female, just about the age of twelve, had ice blue eyes dirty blonde hair and named herself Doe. The youngest boy, hardly past five, had black hair, while his eyes were a bright green, and happily announced himself to be Ero. Finally, all eyes came to rest on the blonde boy in front, his delicate features alight with thought. Though the center of attention, he had eyes only for Ave, and quietly and proudly gave his name to her, “Azure,” and then spoke nothing else.

Filled with joy, Ave stared at them all and began to laugh with pleasure. They, all quite pleased with themselves, beamed up at her, but didn’t join in. Wiping tears from her eyes, she beamed back at them, her cheery yellow eyes dancing. She stood up to go, deeming the moment right, but was stopped as Azure stood up to meet her. They gazed at each other for a while, Ave smiling pleasantly, Azure being his calm and serene. An unspoken message passing between them, Ave laughed lightly and shook her head, “Another time, Azure, but for now, I leave you to them.” She stroked his cheek lightly with one finger, before strolling away. She could feel all of their eyes gazing intensely on her, but she did not give in to looking back. She kept on walking, until she knew some rocks hid her from sight. Then she quickly scurried back to her viewing point unseen, to continue watching and observing, all the while planning in her mind.

Dunaldra jumped as the Craftsman himself came up from behind her, calling her the mistress of Illusions. Of course, how could she be so stupid! Here she was, walking like a helpless child looking for her mother, without considering that another person could have been there. She was the Dunaldra, one who could disappear amongst the gains of sand below her, and she was walking wide open. You idiot!, she screamed in her mind, but she stopped when the Craftsman continued to speak. Her eyes completely followed his lips as he told her of her purpose here as an Exile.

Somehow, even though she was bewildered by the world around her, she understood his words perfectly. They were creating a new world, bringing new life to the wasteland that had become of the hunk of rock one would call a planet. It was their job to teach people how to live within the ecosystem that they were bore in, give them the tools they needed to survive.

What a perfect place to put her! She was right at home in the desert, none of her children would die in her hands. Dunaldra knew that, even though she was late coming into the world, she could have her people up and running in no time. With a bright and prideful smile on her face, she nodded to the Craftsman and said, "I will work as quickly as I can, Craftsman. In fact, I'll get to work now! Thank you!" With that, the desert maiden turned towards her own garden and rushed to examine it.

When she arrived in the area, Dunaldra was not, at first, impressed. In fact, her garden looked as if it was simply a couple hobbles of stone and a water fountain in the middle. However, when she thought about it, it was a good oasis in the middle of the scorching desert. Keeping the water supply would not last long, she would have to teach her people how to create their own wells. She knew she could do it, though, for she had faith in her abilities and knowledge of the sand dunes around her.

Dunaldra discarded her thoughts when, suddenly, murmurs erupted in the buildings nearby. Slowly and catiously, her people began to wander out from behind the rocks. They seemed amazed at her appearance, but who could blame them? Her people were not clothed, and yet she was wearing colors that reflected like the sun. Soon enough, she would teach them how to cloth themselves, and ultimately, how to color their clothes like her own. When they all gathered around her, Duna counted fourteen in all, all varying from the small children to the elderly adults.

Clearing her throat, Dunaldra held her hands out as she said, "My people, this is the beginning of your lives! You live in the land called the desert, and I am your mother." As she finished, people began to relib her words, expecially 'desert' and 'mother'. Duna smiled as she continued, "I am here to raise you, as you will raise your very own children. You must survive these harsh deserts, and I will show you the way. As your mother, I will care for you all and love you with all that I can."

Whispers began to arise, mostly with the adults, about what she just said. Finally, one young man stood out from the crowd and said, in a loud voice, "Mother, show us the way!"

Dunaldra smiled brightly at his words, and everyone else smiled back at her. "Yes, I will. First, though, I must name you all."

"What is name?" One older woman asked, leaning her head in as she spoke.

"A name is how one distinguishes the other." Dunaldra said, though she could tell her people did not understand. Instead, she bent down and picked up a handful of sand. Everyone stared in question as she tried to explain. "Look here, see this? This is named sand, and yet those rough grey things you are standing in front of are not named sand. They are named stones. Everything has it's own name in this world, and soon you will have your own."

"Then your name is Mother?" The young man asked.

"One of my names is Mother, but that is the only name you need to know. In time, you will learn my other names. Now, everyone, I will give you your names." Everyone went silent as she looked around at all the people that surrounded her and tried to think of names. Dunaldra smirked as she looked at the firece young man full of energy in front of her and thought of the perfect name for him. Going up to the teenager, she placed her hands on his shoulders and said, "Young man, your name will be Jason. Learn it, and remember it."

"Jason..." Jason continued to mutter to himself, smiling as he did so.

Dunaldra continued to go in the same fashion, naming her people different names that suited them well. When all the names had been distributed, she looked around and said, "Follow me, and I will teach you the names you need to know." And, so, all the people smiled and followed after their beautiful leader.
____________

Hours went by as Dunaldra watched the little children of the village play amongst each other, while the adults fiddled with trying to create what she had taught them as fire. They could not understand the concept of something like the sun, yet small and contained. It was the sun during the night, and it was something they were going to need the coming night. So, she taught them the method of creating such a power and left them to work.

As they worked, two little girls ran up to Dunaldra, one seemingly upset. She remembered naming one of the girls Carina, while the other one was Mary. The silver haired woman bent over to look at the two children as she said, "Mary, Carina, whatever is the matter with you two? Why are you not happy?"

"Mother, I hurt here." Mary was the first to respond, pointing to the chest. It was then that she realized that they were in need of food.

"My child, that is what we call hunger. You need to eat food." Dunaldra responded. She grabbed both of the girls hands and led them to the trees. "Come here, I will get you food." When they arrived, she looked up into the trees. There, she found a few peaches in the trees. Reaching up with her hand, she puled down a peach, spliting in two for the girls. Immediately, the two grabbed each slice and looked at it.

"What do we do now?" Carina asked, holding the half of the peach in front of her.

"You bite on it and chew it." Dunaldra instructed, motioning it with her hands. Then the two girls followed her instructions and ate the fruit. This would not do, though. They needed other foods besides fruit, so she would need to teach the men how to hunt for food. For now, they will have to deal with what fruit the environment around them provided.

The Craftsman stood on the sheer cliff face, his back was to an immense marble courtyard, perfectly circular, surrounded by twelve stone pillars. All of which were blank at this point. Those pillars would eventually contain the history of the world that they were living in. There was a circular table perched in the middle of the courtyard. A steel chair for every exile faced inward, waiting to be occupied.

He stared outward over the great mass of desert. Already clouds were beginning to gather around the oddly smooth mountain, although the clouds actually only made it about two thirds up the mass of gray stone. Soon, very soon, they would be so thick that they would obscure the air completely. He was sure that Jikrae would appreciate the tempest that would rage just below their meeting to ensure that no intruders could set foot there.

He extended his left hand outward to a massive bell wrought from a bright silvery metal that appeared to shift like the eyes of the Craftsman. It stood almost twenty feet tall, and was supported by two massive stone columns.

The craftsman looked directly upward, the sun greeting his gaze. It was mid day. It was time.

Seemingly without provocation, the bell began to move. Slowly it swung outwards towards the world before it. The sound of the air rushing through its hollow chamber sounded like a roaring beast. The Bell swung back towards the center of the Courtyard, and then outward again, this time it moved out far enough for the massive hammer inside to strike the inside of the bell.

The sound was like an enormous thunderclap that was followed by a great and terrible ring that roared across the world like the moan of a dying giant. It was an ominous sound that rushed outwards in all directions, making the very air vibrate with its ferocity.

The echo hung in the air for some time, even as it died out, the bell struck again. Black clouds were beginning to rush towards the mountainside, appearing from nothing they hovered ominously over the side of the mountain, churning impatiently as they waited for the Exiles to arrive at the meeting so that they could unleash their fury upon the mountain side.

The bell struck once more, the final ring tore its way over the desert. Vibrating violently as it echoed all over the world. The craftsman laid his hand on the stone pillar that supported the massive instrument with a smile. It had taken more of him than anything else to craft this bell. He couldn't help buy revel in its sound.

Tamasha
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Tamasha
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 11:06 am

History of the Exiles Page Six

Intently watching the small humans below, Ave started at the bell that tolled across the land. Her people looked up curiously at the sound, seeming to think it was from her. Ave, over the immediate surprise and already smiling at the sound, decided to use this to her advantage. She knew exactly what to do; she had been contemplating the sound of the bell ever since the Craftsman had mentioned it. She was surprised it had come so soon, but in this case, it was a good surprise. Her eyes were dancing with glee, and her whole body shook with excitement. She stood up, and for a moment, let the wind whip her shortly cropped hair around. Then, with a final glance towards her garden, she leapt from the stone.

Halfway through her fall, she transformed with a snap. She had no idea where the image had come from, but as soon as it entered her mind it appealed to her. Her people looked up curiously at the disturbance in the air, and were clearly shocked. In place of Ave, a now winged serpent was excitedly making its way through the air. About seven feet long, sleek and slender, the spotted body of it was moving as if it was swimming. The huge wings, about three quarters up its body, were magnificently pure white. Its head, although snakelike, was more akin to an adder, than the python the body implied. Finally, seeming to get the hang of her new form, Ave sped up over the mountains, towards where the bell had rung.

As much as she enjoyed the thrill of rushing wind, and the speed she could achieve, Ave instead looked intently as the landscape below. Most was dull, the same bleak landscape that covered most of the land. Occasionally, in the distance, she would spot a patch of green, which she figured must be another garden. Already bored, she instead looked ahead, where she could a tall mountain springing up from the landscape. Large, ominous looking mountains seemed to ring near the top. As she dear nearer, she instantly felt the power of the Craftsman coming from near the top. The bells still practically ringing in her ears, she sped up towards the top of the mountain.

She entered the ring of clouds in a rush, but slowed down as the feel of mist and cold surrounded her. She twirled around for a bit in them, reveling in their touch, before bursting out into bright sunlight. She let out a sort of hiss of joy, which was all she could manage in her form. Spotting pillars, and what must have been the bell, she alighted at the top, and with a pop, changed back into her human form. She gave him a huge grin, her eyes changing from the yellow of before to a silver blue, much like the Craftsman’s.

She cocked her head and looked around, before returning her gaze back to the Craftsman’s. “It would seem, I am the first one here.”

Dunaldra laughed along with the children as the dragged her around to play with her. Even the teens, who had been watching the adults work moments ago, decided to stop observing and come join her and the children. After awhile, she told the children to stop, and decided to tell them a story. "They say," Duna began, smiling as they all peered at her with curiosity, "That, through the desert wanders a man. A man with great powers over sand."

"Even greater than yours, Mother?" A teenaged girl by the name of Claire asked her.

"Oh, far greater than mine own." Dunaldra responded, which caused all the children to gasp in amazement. "He is so powerful, he can control your dreams."

"Dreams?" All of them asked in confusion.

"When you sleep tonight, to get your energy for tomorrow, you will see images. Pictures in your mind, showing you whatever the sand man creates!"

"So... this man in the desert controls our dreams?" Jason questioned.

"Yes, and he--"

"Mother, look, we've done it!" She looked up to see that a middle-aged man she had named Seth exclaimed. Standing up quickly, she walked over to where the adults had gathered. They all stared in amazement at the buring fire before them, their eyes filled with the reds and oranges created by the flames.

Dunaldra clapped her hands as she said, "Well done, my children! Now you can keep yourselves warm tonight!" Everyone cheered in response, overjoyed that their mother was proud of them. They had done exactly as she had said, why would she not be happy with them.

However, as all the people began to celebrate their success, Dunaldra heard a noise in the distance. "No, it can't be." She muttered to herself as she walked away from the group. She did not notice as the voices around her died away, moving to whispers of question and worry. Since they did quite down, she could finally get a good grasp of what the sound was. It was the one thing Duna did not want to hear right now.

"The Bell."

"Mother, what is the bell?" Dunaldra looked down to see that it was Carina who stood by her, clearly upset at how serious she had become.

Dunaldra took a deep breath as she said, "I'm sorry, my children. I must leave you for awhile." Every adult frowned while the children cried, not understanding while their mother would leave them after they only just met. "I hate to leave, but I have no choice. I am being called by my people."

"But, what about us?!" She heard none other than Jason yell, angry yet depressed at her announcement.

"I won't be long. I have taught you what little I could in such a short time, but it will be enough until I return. Do not fret, my loves, I will return." She ended this with a smile, though it did not help her convince her people.

"Don't leave, mother!" Carina cried, reaching out and grabbing Dunaldra's leg, holding onto it as if for dear life.

Bending down, Dunaldra placed a hand on top of Carina's. This was going to be hard, getting the child to let go of her until she came back. Finally, Duna leaned into the child's ear as she said, "Carina, I will miss you. Please, be good and let me go. When I get back, I'll tell you my real name."

"May I call you by your real name?" Carina asked, sniffling as she did so.

"Yes, you may." Dunaldra responded, and Carina reluctantly let go of her. Looking at everyone around her, she said in a rather strict tone. "Do not leave this place. Dangers lay out there that you do not know how to defend yourself from. If one of you were injured, I would not know what to do. Do mother this one request." When everyone nodded, she smiled at them and gave a wave, before she turned and entered the desert.

When Dunaldra made it over the first dune, she looked back one last time at her people. The children seemed to still be crying, while the adults were kneeling near them and comforting them. "I'm sorry." She muttered aloud, if only for herself, before she turned and sprinted into the horizon. The quicker she got to the Stone Council, the sooner she could get back to them. With that, she became almost like the sand in the wind, moving her way steadily closer to the highest mountain.

Curious, was the first thing that came to mind, when her presence of spirit had become strong enough for her to think (or rather, make an observation.) There seemed to be nothing. She felt nothing, saw nothing, sensed nothing. This couldn't possibly be; hadn't she always said that emptiness was only a lack of perception? Upon this memory, she was instantly reassured, but other matters immediately pressed her. Who was "she"? It suddenly dawned upon her that aside from the ability to percieve, she lacked even her own identity. So there was such a thing as an identity? Thank goodness. Then... A strong fear emerged, but it could not hurt Mythee; she grasped it with eagerness, and knew herself once again. With sudden animosity, she summoned forth all of her mind despite being only half-materialised, and tore at the nothingness that surrounded her, to find what contained it- or what invisible secrets it contained. Darkness became light, and light became gold...

---

The humans were gathered around the phenomenon, tears wetting the faces of many along with the rain. In this world that was still so barren, they had never seen anything so beautiful. A fountain of golden liquid had birthed from the earth, glowing with a radiance as striking, but softer, than the thunder that roared with the great storm above, whose sounds mingled with those of the people watching and crying in awe and wonder. It had grown quickly and become abundant- long limbs reached from it and grabbed at the churning skies in a very lifelike manner, and soon a golden being had waded itself into the world- a little prematurely. The people gasped, bewildered, as the being resembled more and more a woman- it coughed and sputtered, teetering dangerously on its vaguely shaped legs, and collapsed to the ground, laughing nonetheless. (What had first sounded like an odd and inhuman buzz had progressively clarified into a strong, fullhearted laugh.) Tears of joy streamed down the increasingly human face, and the last remaining glowing substance who was clinging to her body became armor, a cloak, and a sword- all objects unknown to the humans present, but whose use and meaning were entirely clear to the one that wore them.

All Mythee could see, or think of, was the sky, as the inside of her body continued to form with excruciating pain and her chest heaved and throbbed heavily with every difficult breath. It was so beautiful, too beautiful. She was lost in the storm, captivated by the song of the rain. The pain, too, was beautiful. But it soon made her unable to cough or to laugh, so her curiosity was quickly drawn to something else as a naked woman helped her into a sitting position and an equally bare man forced her into swallowing water cupped in his hands. These people... they were the ones she was supposed to raise? Yes, she had come to know her mission, and the three laws, as she was forming... She accepted the challenge and the laws eagerly. Already she loved this world and its people, who, despite the dangers of the unknown, had so readily helped the being that they now knew and adored when she had seemed to be in much pain. When she could finally breathe easily and refocus her vision, she smiled with gratitude at the woman who had first come to her aid, and lay her warm hand on the human's shoulder in thanks. The woman was shocked at first, but then smiled- everyone around was smiling, beaming even. Now even the children had neared her side, wanting to touch the golden-eyed, golden-haired lady and the strange things that covered her. The others were glad, and waiting... for something. The rain was stopping, and the sound of thunder growing farther away. Mythee knew just what they needed.

Mythee got up slowly, carrying the weight of her armor with grace and ease, while the people murmured softly as she brushed some long golden strands of hair from her face. Some kind of calm had settled. The Exile regarded her people with just as much admiration as they with her, grinned, and spoke at last. "I know you're pretty, but you're all soaking wet, and definitely need clothes." Her voice was friendly and jovial, but carried ingrained authority. A man asked innocently:

"What are... clothes?"

And Mythee licked her lips.

Really, the Craftsman was generous to give the Exiles such creative liberty.

Dessande' heard the bell's loud echoes as it carried over the water, ringing inside the cave that his Garden sat inside. Slightly miffed at the sound ringing before his people could begin to learn and expand their horizons. For now, they must eat the food that the Garden provided, and he must heed the bell's call, he knew.

Octavius came to him and asked him quite bluntly, his strong shoulders bustling, "What is this sound, O' Great Dessande'? It frightens us greatly, and your eyes show that you seem to know it, and that it has a meaning. What is that meaning, O' Great Dessande'?" He gazed down on Octavius, and a gentle light shone from his eyes as he spoke. "Octavius, that is the call of the Craftsman as he brings all the Exiles far and wide to the Stone Council. It seems I must leave you all to your own devices for now, but trust that I will return soon. Speak this to the people, and send Jessica to me, for I have instructions that she must oversee the completion of."

Octavius nodded satisfaction with his answer, and bowed before running to tell the others. "The Great Dessande' is leaving the village for a time to commune with others of a similar power to his in a Great Council before the Craftsman! He has asked that Jessica should speak with him!" Octavius announced his news loudly, then ran off to talk with Samuel and Michael.

Jessica approached Dessande' with no hesitation. "You called, Great One?" He looked down to her and spoke, "Yes, I called. I will be leaving for a time, and I wished to assign some things for you to have the people collect and make. I would like you to collect many long strands of seaweed from the deeps of the river that flows through the Garden. These will have a purpose later, you will learn. I would also like you to collect small rocks and stones, as well as some large ones. These will have a purpose, do not worry. I would also like you to collect all driftwood that comes into the cave and place it in a pile for sorting when I return. That will be all, I think. Fare thee well, Jessica, and direct the camp well while I am gone."

Jessica bowed her head and blushed. "That I will, O Great Dessande'." She walked off with confidence in her steps and began to direct the people of the camp. It was good to see that work was to be started quickly, and it was always good to have a forceful second in command.

Dessande' walked away from the camp, trusting Jessica's direction for the moment being. Diving into the water, he rushed through the water with unbelievable speed. His home was so comfortable for him. He merged with the water and his form distorted to allow water to flow around and through it. He sped along through the water, assuming that he would reach a point very near his destination before he reached land, and it still felt far away.

Suddenly, he bumped into something. The land was larger than he had thought... He rose from the water and moved further back in the water from the shore, and began to distort the water to elevate himself above the land. He looked around and saw, to his horror, the small size of his Domain. It was only a sea, with no ocean anywhere. This was the extent of his Domain? Interesting.

Deciding to hasten to the Stone Council with all due speed, Dessande' let the water sink back into the sea and morphed his body into a concentrated body of water vapor, moving speedily towards the mountain on which the Council would convene.

Where are the oceans and rivers and lakes? He wondered as he moved through the air. The waters are the beginning of life, and are required to sustain life as well. This world will become unstable without oceans to bring water to everywhere... His resolve formed slowly as he came closer to the site of the council. I will ask the Craftsman about this, for it confuses me greatly. Perhaps this is why the council was called before I discovered the limits of the realm I inhabited... Will I be made to sculpt the oceans for this world as in many past? I do not know... The Craftsman holds the answers...

Dessande's form rose through the clouds and set foot upon the marble of the courtyard, and he gazed around at the site of the Stone Council. The chairs sat unoccupied, and the Craftsman stood by the great Bell. He seemed to be the first here... Wait, there stood Ave, her white wings folded. "Hello, Craftsman. I have come to the Council. Am I early? I see only one of the other Exiles here." He morphed into his ordinary form as he spoke, looking towards the Craftsman for direction on what to do from here.

Barely had the gargantuan ring of the bell died on the wind when he saw an elegant flying serpent twisting in the wind, over the storm clouds, until she landed on the edge of the courtyard, much like a thread or ribbon that had been caught in a gale. The Craftsman tugged at his silvery bearded braid, running his tanned and slender fingers over one of the iron ringlets. "Ave, as always your sense of beauty is appreciated. As well as your punctuality." His long mustaches lifted in his trademark hidden smile. He knew very well that all of the other exiles were already on their way, and would be standing before him momentarily. He would be forgiving, they were all whelps, fractions of their former selves. They had to travel through mundane means. Being the smith of this world he was infused with its every crevice and curve, it would take some time for the others to share his affinity with the land.

"Stand with me, Ave. I enjoy your company." His deep and yet slightly hoarse voice beckoned her in a friendly manner.

His head turned even before Dessande had landed. His long braid and beard swishing away from him as he turned to face the newcomer. "Dessande. It's very good to see you. I'm terribly sorry that I could not greet you sooner, let me extend my warmest welcome to you now." He said seriously. The metallic orbs of his eyes glinted with an unknown expression as he studied him. "You are right on time, to answer your question."

"I see that you sought out your cave in the Northeast. I left you with only a meager sea, give it time. Every day it comes closer to being an ocean. Your existence will insure that. I have always recognized you as a necessity, Dessande. Welcome." He bowed his head respectfully so that the wide brim of his hat covered his face for the briefest instance. "Dessande, please come stand by me and we will await the others. We do not all have to be allies here, but for now we will be civil and greet one another as equals."

He extended his hand and beckoned Dessande to come closer.

He stood facing South for a few moments, silently observing what surroundings he could. "Ah!" He suddenly clapped his hands jovially. "Mythee is here. I'd been hoping that she would make it through. I understand that her transition was to be especially painful. A disproportionate punishment for one who acted for sake of her honor." He laughed to himself, his beard and mustache gyrated wildly.

"Either that or the stubborn girl brought her weapons with her. That would be like her." His grin widened slightly underneath his hawklike nose.

Dunalda traveled by the sand for as long as she could, before she realized that the sand had ended and now became rocky. She changed back to her normal self and looked around anxiously, trying to see where she was. As she looked up, however, she got her answer. The desert maiden was, in fact, nearing the edge to, what she believed to be, the highest peak on the barren planet. Almost there, she thought to herself, trying to think of the quickest method to make it up the mountain.

With no good ideas, Dunalda decided it was best to just transform into a bird. Of course, the said bird was a small, but quick, hawk. Flapping her brown wings, she lifted herself off the ground and flew up the mountain side and towards the top. It did not take long, and soon she was on the Stone Council, along with three other people. As she transformed back into her normal self, she recognized one of the three was the Craftsman himself. Pushing aside the silver locks on her tanned face, she smiled around to everyone as she said, "I was not the first person, I see. Well, I'm fine with that. At least I am not the last again."

She was tired. It had been a long time since she had used her powers, and searching for hours on end was taxing her strength. My Garden must be very isolated for me to take this long to find it, she thought sensibly, circling the world for what she was sure was the thousandth time. Her fanged grin diminished with every second knowing full well that every moment she spent not at her Garden, the others were using to make their people stronger. She had faith in their survival skills, their common sense, and their innovation, but they needed guidance to grow at the rate of the other Gardens, to ensure of their survival from attack.

Her slithering form re-searched the mountains, just starting to be capped with snow. A narrow valley rested in one of these ranges, on the had not noticed before. It was lush and green, with a river that snaked from one end to the other. A few trees dotted the bottom of the valley, and at one end, next to a lake, grew a small forest. And at the other was a small, tiny gray speck. As soon as she set eyes on it, she knew it was hers. Despite the work she had put into finding it, she thanked The Craftsman inwardly for creating a Garden in such a place. It stood in a natural wall of mountains - an obstacle that would ensure her people's safety early on.

And then - she remembered her name. Shizuka. If she remembered correctly, it meant 'The Quiet One'. Her snake-like smile widened, glad she had something she could use to identify herself to others.

Shizuka circled the mountains two times, then she gracefully corkscrewed towards her Sanctuary. But then, she heard the dreaded knoll of the bell. Already? she thought. She had not even met her people yet, and the Council was about to begin. With difficulty, she tore herself away and took a sharp turn away from her Garden and towards the conference area. I'm sorry. Just hold out a bit longer without me...

She lighted down at the conference softly, her scales peeling off and disappating as she returned to her usual form. Shizuka nearly fell almost immediately, her unused legs and exhaustion making it strenuous to even stand. But she quickly steeled herself and kept her posture, not wanting to seem weak at her first meeting. A smile played on her lips despite her weariness. For now, she would content herself with knowing her Garden's location. Hands folded in front of her, she waited. Inside, Shizuka didn't even want to face the Craftsman, knowing that her lateness pulled back the progress of the world.

The vibrations throughout the air at first startled Toucan, and she was not quite sure what was going on; it took her a minute to register the fact that the vibrations she felt were that of sound, so great was its volume. The mechanic looked around her wildly for the source of the sound, her gaze halting on a few of the inhabitants of the garden. They moved about as though nothing were wrong! Didn't they hear it as well?

"You-- you don't hear that?" Toucan gasped above the sound, not realizing she was nearly shouting. The person addressed turned to her with startled eyes and shook a head adorned with a glazed expression. "Good lor--" the bell tolled again and Toucan covered her ears, eyes squinting behind the goggles. Perhaps because she was so familiar with the motions of atoms the sound struck her as painfully huge, or perhaps she simply had delicate hearing.

Either way, so shooken up was the exile that it took her a moment to remember the craftsman's instructions. As soon as she did Toucan looked up with an expression of recognition and comprehension, despite the horrible ringing in her ears. She managed to slip awkwardly off her perch on the rock, her knees shaking and half collapsing as her hands remained clasped on her ears. It was still so loud!

"I'll-- be right back," Toucan said, still trying to keep her voice above the bell and nearly shouting. The people stared at her with startled expressions but the mechanic offered no further explanation before turning into sound itself.

Not atoms or a form, per se, but simply the motion of transferring energy between atoms. Light would've been faster, but Toucan felt sound would be an appropriate form to change into for travel to this sacred place, much less her first real transformation. Energy and mass were related enough, perhaps even interchangeable, that this transformation was not a problem for her.

She screamed, roared, and ripped over the landscapes as a colossal wave in the tide of atoms, finally arriving at the courtyard with a sonic boom, startlingly loud but not holding a candle to the toll of the bells of course. Materializing into her body, clothed in the starched but unironed linen jacket, pants, and shirt, goggles pushed up into the tufts of white hair, Toucan found she shook mildly from the transformation, a habit which was not to be lost easily.

Jikrae hauled himself easily over another ledge as he continued his vertical climb back to his Camp. He judged that he was at least three-fourths of the way there, and it was only the dawn of the Second Day he had been on the world. He needed to make sure to get the people he commanded into clothing and have them armed with weapons very soon. Ember could no doubt sense him just as Jikrae had sensed the cruel leader, and if he even began to imagine that Jikrae's only defense was his own physical might as an Exile, he would likely seize the chance and attack.

He remembered catapults, trebuchets, and ballista from his dreams. It would probably be a few days before he could gather the supplies needed to build an adequate supply of them, but combined with bows and arrows, a wall, and trenches, his Garden would be completely inaccessible by any invading force that Ember could muster. They certainly wouldn't be used to attack anyone at first; Jikrae was determined not to draw first blood in any quarrel with Ember, but he was certainly not going to be attacked by the hideous cretin.

He grasped another sharp crag jutting from the Mountain, testing his own strength as he vaulted himself upward and caught his gloved hands on the edge of a small slanted gap in the mountainside. Taking another deep breath, he kicked upward, getting a foothold in the niche, and then kicked upward with tremendous force. Jikrae's skill was acrobatic, and so the incredible vaulting carried him several meters up before he began to fall. He caught a spike jutting from the wall and inadvertently impaled his hand. Grunting in agony --for this searing pain was surely true anguish, unlike the minor pangs he had felt earlier-- he grasped the spike with his other hand and broke it off of the side of the mountain.

Then he fell from his perch, down nearly twenty meters before he crashed painfully into the ledge he had been standing on only moments before. Displaying his displeasure clearly, the lightning in Jikrae's eyes climbed outward to almost two feet in length, and one bolt struck a small beetle nearby, launching the tiny creature off the ledge before it opened its wings and glided safely through the air to a much more hospitable location. He pulled the stone spike from his right hand, gasped for air, and then stood up. A gaping hole was piercing his glove, saturated fully in a sanguine liquid that Jikrae called blood, despite the fact that it was much darker than that of a normal Human Being.

The lightning died down as the pain subsided and, realizing he was beaten, Jikrae leaped off the ledge and onto the nearby steep but walkable pathway that led up to the camp. Though he had failed, the experience did help to encourage Jikrae in the idea that there was absolutely no way that Ember and his miniature army could scale the steep gradient of the mountain. They would either take the path or fly, and Jikrae doubted that the latter would become a problem any time soon.

Jikrae arrived back at the camp around ten minutes later to see that his people had attempted, albeit unsuccessfully, to go about the jobs that Jikrae had allotted them. The only one who seemed to have any luck with his particular task was Judros, Jikrae's Avatar, who was doing a fair job of keeping everyone within reasonable boundaries. He had kept most of the people sitting nearby, ready to help with any tasks Jikrae would give them when they arrived, while Zifro, Karomy, Quris, and Maishu were keeping the herd of goats within the confines of the garden by stacking tree branches, covered with pine needles, over each other in order to create a pen for the animals. For a moment, Jikrae admired the creativity of his people and their ability to improvise in a situation such as this.

Then he realized that they were quite obviously in need of help, for they couldn't bind the branches together and their walls continued to fall down. He advanced quickly into the camp, knowing that his hand would be noticed. Kitoky was the first one to notice him, which bolstered Jikrae's belief that he would make a good Scout, and the boy quickly pointed out his arrival to Judros.

The surprised man that Jikrae had placed in charge turned and nearly fell back upon seeing that the heavily-armored man had finally returned. Upon examining Jikrae, however, a question spouted from Judros' mouth before he knew what he was saying, and he seemed immediately to regret it. Jikrae wasn't sure why his people seemed so scared. He knew that he'd made a strict impression the night before, as he'd intended to, but he didn't remember doing anything to make his subjects become frightened of him.

"Jik, what has happened to the garment on your hand?"

The Glove? Jikrae thought almost angrily, You're wondering what happened to my glove when there's a hole in my hand?

Jikrae held it up as though to show Judros that there was a more serious injury, only to find that it was only the glove that was damaged. Though there were still remnants of his blood on the leather surface, the wound was gone. Unable to explain it himself -- in his dreams, he had never healed so quickly -- Jikrae assumed that it must be one of the perks of his newfound position in this world. Again, he was a realist, and the revelation gave him no misconceptions about whether or not he was capable of dying. He knew that he could die; if he were invincible, his hand would never have been skewered in the first place.

"An unfortunate accident," Jikrae said calmly, belying the surprise in his mind, "But nothing to be worried about. You seem to have done well with the Camp thus far, Judros," he saw the man smile at the sound of praise, "But now it is your turn to observe me, for I fear that I will have to make another excursion from this place very soon."

Jikrae knew that he was telling the truth, but he didn't know exactly what he was speaking about. He had no intention of leaving his Kingdom before it was adequately defended, which would certainly not be before the week was out. Nevertheless, he didn't correct himself. Thus far, many of the things that he had said felt as though they'd been spoken for him, simply blurted out with no knowledge of what he was saying. However, as of yet, those things had been correct.

"Come!" he called lightly to everyone sitting near Judros, "We'll build a proper pen for the Goats!"

The group got up immediately and quickly followed behind him in a haphazard line. Jikrae quickly appraised the idea that Quris seemed to be describing, and Jikrae quickly pointed out what he knew to be a flaw.

"We should stack the branches on their sides," Quris instructed, clearly trying to make a good impression in front of Jikrae, "and make sure that we build up high enough that the g...goots," the shepherd mispronounced the name of the animals, "will not try to jump over them."

Jikrae stepped forward and, for lack of enough height to tap Quris appreciatively on the shoulder, he patted him lightly on the back. "You are new to this, Quris, so take no offense. The goats, not goots, will likely leap over the branches if they are not extremely tall, as these creatures are built to traverse these mountains. To that end, the branches should be stripped of their needles and stacked upward, on their ends. They could be bound together by leather strips."

"Leather?" Kitoky asked curiosly.

"Leather is animal skin. We will acquire it when we get our food. First we must build basic tools, though, which should not take long."

Jikrae stooped slightly and picked up a small limb of a tree that had been stripped from its branch, and quickly tore all the needles off of it. He then held the large stick in his left hand as he stripped the bark from it with the metal spike on the glove of his right hand, quickly whittling it down to bare wood. He then set the handle of his weapon down, and, without warning, charged with all of his speed into the side of the mountain, holding out the back of his right hand as he crashed into the wall.

The spike pierced the rock easily, sending several large pieces crumbling to the ground at Jikrae's feet. He picked one that was long and had the beginnings of a sharp edge, and then, utilizing the strength he had as an Exile, he carved a rather deadly edge into the blade of the weapon he was creating. He moved back over to the confused crowd of people and picked up the wooden handle of the long-bladed knife. He could have killed one of the goats with his gloves and skinned a small strip of skin off in order to bind the two pieces together, but for this demonstration, that wouldn't do.

He found a sprout of Foxglove, and seeing an opportunity to ward off any curious individuals from the beautiful flower, which was one of the few plants he had seen decorating the unreal landscapes of his dreams, he tore it from the ground, roots and all, and held it up for everyone in his Kingdom to see.

"This plant is called Foxglove. As with what I warned Kitoky about going over the edge of the cliff, eating any part of this plant will cause you very serious harm and probably end up killing you. If I see anyone here eat this plant, I will be unable to save you. It is not deadly to touch, so you needn't be scared of it. I am going to use its roots to die the blade," Jikrae held up the stone edge, "and the handle," Jikrae held up the wooden haft of his weapon, "of this blade. I will then demonstrate how we will get food and supplies from one of these goats."

Jikrae tore the roots off the bottom of the plant, and almost threw the purple and green flower over the side of the cliff when he realized that, despite its deadly properties, the flower was quite a respectable plant, and he saw no others like it laying around. So rather than dispose of it, he merely tossed it to his right, allowing it to land softly on the ground several feet away.

The roots, of course, would not hold the blade and handle very well, but they would suffice for long enough to kill one of the goats.

"This," Jikrae held up the combined pieces, "is a basic knife. If I ever see anyone using these on another living creature, be it a tiny insect, a large animal, or another Human Being, you will regret it. Weapons have their uses, but using them in anger, especially against one of your fellow Humans, is reprehensible, and it shall never be done without my express permission."

Jikrae knew that he was being hypocritical, but none of his followers seemed to catch on, merely watching in awe as Jikrae stalker up behind a goat, calmly grasped one of its curved horns with one hand and slitting its throat with the knife in his other hand. The goats were not scared of Humans yet; they had no reason to be, and even though the Goat's attempts to cry out were inaudible, the other goats skittered away.

"This is death," Jikrae said calmly, hefting the carcass in both arms and carrying it over the barrier that Quris had been creating. "This is what happens when a being is injured too severely. He ceases to move or think."

"He vanishes?" Quris asked calmly, despite the bleeding carcass at Jikrae's feet.

"No," Jikrae responded coolly, having expected the question, "There is a place where souls go after death, but it is not here, and I do not know where it is. It is difficult to describe, and with time, you will understand it."

Jikrae skinned the goat over the course of the next hour, keeping away any pestering insects who thought to feed upon the corpse. Jikrae was sure that there would be salt hidden within the mountains, which could be used to preserve leftover meat, although they were unlikely to strike such a deposit within the next several months.

Jikrae took many of the fallen pine needles that were laying all around the garden, for even though the Garden had only a few of the strange trees, the mountains surrounding them were packed with them and there was no shortage. He cleared the grass away from the pile of dried pine needles, then piles dead sticks on top. He explained what he was about to do to the congregation around him, and then he struck the largest spikes on each arm together, sending sparks skittering toward the pine needles and lighting the entire pile of sticks up quickly.

"This is fire," Jikrae said calmly as everyone jumped backward. "For now, it is to be used merely to cook food and harden weapons. In time, it will become a powerful weapon to use against those who attack us."

Jikrae quickly constructed a spit from the sticks that were still forming a haphazard pen for the goats and fitted two large slabs of meat onto it. He told Kitoky and Zifro to take turns spinning the spit, and they would get to split one of the pieces of meat between themselves. After making sure that they knew how to spin it correctly, Jikrae returned his attention to the goat pen.

After everyone in the Kingdom had eaten a portion of the goat meat, Jikrae cut the hide of the animal into strips and handed out sharpened bones from the goat's corpse to Judros, Karomy, Maishu, and Maikau. "These are more basic forms of the knife," Jikrae said calmly, "And I am trusting you not to use them on living creatures unless you ask me first. Judros, use the strips of leather to bind together branches upright and create a pen for the goats. I am going to teach Maishu and Maikau to kill and Karomy how to use the hides of animals to create clothes."

Judros nodded with a slight gulp, and Jikrae gave him an invisible smile before leading Maishu, Maikau, and Karomy off toward the steep path that led further up into the Mountain.

The afternoon was giving way to evening, though the Sun had just begun to set when Jikrae caught sight of what he was after. Certainly it was far out of the league of any of the Humans with him, but the Grizzly Bear that he spied sniffling at small plants and eating the parts of some of them was well within his ability to kill. Had it stood on its hind legs, it would have towered easily over seven feet tall, and Jikrae didn't want his followers hurt.

"Observe," Jikrae said firmly, "Do not join in this fight. I wish you to be prepared for your first hunt, and I do not wish you to go up against a bear with just a small knife."

Jikrae waited a moment to make sure there were no questions, and then leapt upward quickly, grasping a tree branch and pulling himself up. He hardly noticed that the trees around him no longer had needles. As thick as the trees were in the forests of this mountain, Jikrae found it easy with his dexterity to vault from one to the other until he was almost directly above his target, which was still foraging in berry bushes for food.

Jikrae dropped down and landed neatly on the bear's back, plunging his long knife roughly through the creature's neck. It roared in anger, twisted around dizzily, and then fell sideways just as Jikrae removed his knife and hopped off onto solid ground. He signaled for the trio watching him to come to him, and they rushed forward, awed by the brutal efficiency Jikrae displayed. Jikrae explained why it had worked so flawlessly.

"My plan succeeded because the bear did not know I was there. If there is anything that I must stress above all else in hunting, it is that you must take absolute care not to become the Hunted! This bear could have torn any of you to pieces, killing you all, and if it had known you were there, it might have done such a thing. You must always be stealthy, and I will give you weapons to improve that. For now, help me skin this creature. Karomy will carry that, and I will carry the meat."

Maishu and Maikau looked surprised, "You mean...we're not going to fight?" they each said almost in unison.

Jikrae frowned behind his mask, "You are ready for hunting, but not for bears. You were meant only to observe; to watch. Remember this, for one day, you'll be capable of the very same thing that I just did. As I said, though, help me skin this beast. I fear I have little time left before I must depart."

They arrived back at the camp at nightfall, and Jikrae quickly taught Karomy how to make simple articles of clothing. The Lord of the Climate decided that Kitoky and Zifro, the youngest two members of his Kingdom, should be clothed first, since they were both small enough that they could each get a full set of clothing when two adults would not be able to. Jikrae was thankful that cold temperatures were not currently taking their toll on the Mountain Kingdom that was quickly growing around him, and he left Karomy to her work while he inspected the Goat's newly-built pen with Judros and Quris near him.

Jikrae was once again dumbfounded by the level of intuition his people displayed. Not only was the pen built into a large corner that the mountain formed, using fewer supplies than if it had been built out in the open, but door, although a rickety one, had been added in by Quris at the protest of Judros, bound shut by a leather knot that was easily undone and retied.

"Quris," Jikrae started sternly, "I told you to listen to anything that Judros tells you to do while I'm gone. Anything he tells to you do or not to do, you follow his orders! That having been said, you did very good work with the door. Judros, while I appreciate your following my commands strictly, you must allow the other members some freedom to add their own personal touch to what they build. This is my Kingdom, but it is not I who will be forced to live here. I give the basic design for what needs to be created, and then everyone else adds on to that design to make things easier for them."

"I am sorry, Jikrae," Judros began, but Jikrae cut him off.

"No apology is necessary, Judros. You did what you were told to do, and you did good. I am just telling you more of what you should do in the future."

Everyone was asleep at midday, most of them exhausted from yesterday's work. Believing himself to be ahead-of-schedule, and hoping to show his followers that he would give them some leniency at times, Jikrae allowed them to sleep until the Bell's booming voice crashed through the Kingdom, forcing his subjects into wakefulness. Jikrae's memories flooded back to him in an instant.

The Stone Council is where all of the Exiles will meet. You will know to come when the Great Bell is sounded, and you will know where to go by instinct the first time, and after that you will know where the location of the place lies.

Jikrae gave hasty orders to Judros, "Today is for relaxation. There is still some meat left from the Goat, and if I am not back by Dawn tomorrow, have Maikau and Maishu kill another, for I have taught them how. I must leave now, and I do not know how long I'll be gone."

Jikrae didn't realize exactly where he was going to go, though. He remembered that someone --he assumed the Craftsman-- had told him that he would simply know where to go. Jikrae wasn't sure what this meant until he saw a colossal storm brewing up toward the Northwest, around what seemed to be. It seemed to span beyond the horizon, for he could just spot its edges, but Jikrae felt that since his Domain was that of the Climate, that the storm must be what he was supposed to notice.

Jikrae made haste, bolting from the ledge and down into the Desert before doubling back around and circling the small chain of steep mountains his Kingdom was situated in. He hardly had to think of what he was doing before he pumped all of his energy and might into his legs, nearly tripling his already-incredible speed. Soon, the cloud became clearer, and clearly it was growing stronger, but Jikrae still couldn't tell what it was surrounding. He could see the silhouette of something just below it, but it wasn't until he was about fifty miles away from the storm that he realized he was looking at a magnificent mountain.

The mountain, thankfully, was not as steep as the cliff-like surface of his Kingdom, and Jikrae'neindir, dwarfed severely by the peak he was scaling, had little trouble getting past the cloud, though he felt disinclined to leave the confines of the cloud, the immense pleasure he got as jolts of lightning struck his armor and the coolness of the water vapor and icy bite of the wind seeping into his skin. This was his element, and though he didn't want to leave its presence, he knew that the Stone Council was gathering still further above, and so he continued.

Jikrae began to feel exhaustion creep in just as he vaulted over the edge of the Mountain and landed softly on the flat, firm surface of the Courtyard set on the top of the Mountain. He saw Ave, Dessande, Dunalda, Shizuka, and, after an earth-shattering explosion of sound, another one appeared from the air, Toucan. They all appeared fairly impressive, though Jikrae disliked many of their choices of clothes, a remnant of seeing every single person the exact same way for so many millennia.

He noted thankfully that none of them appeared to share the enmity that Ember had shamelessly displayed, and he bowed elegantly, showing his respect. He couldn't afford to make any more enemies and, with any luck, he would find no more monsters like the Demon who lived near his mountain.

"Fellow Exiles," Jikrae spoke the greeting calmly and serenely, hoping to utilize this meeting to gain small friendships with some of the other Exiles so that he might ally with them decades or centuries later.

"And the Craftsman," Jikrae did not bow this time, but the respect with which he uttered the Craftsman's title was no less approving, "Forgive my ignorance, Sir, but...I'm not exactly sure why I'm here. I know that this place is referred to as the Stone Council, and I know that all the Exiles meet here, and I know to come when the Bell is sounded, but nothing more. Is that going to be explained soon? Or should I already know the answer?"

Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 11:13 am

History of the Exiles Page Six Continued

Several times while Amelia was there Roet opened his mouth to speak, but was cut across. Eventually he gave up. He knew he had to get to the Stone Council. He turned back to the people, "Everyone is to remain inside the Sanctuary except Chiron and Iaso for the time while I am away. If you need something outside the Sanctuary, you may ask either of them.

Roet turned around, grabbed a knife and spear, then started running. He was, possibly, even faster than Amelia, but he couldn't be sure. He wasrunning fast, but not fast enough. His feet were slipping on the sand. Roet pushed himself to go faster. He saw the mountain growing in the distance. Soon he was climbing quickly through rough terrain.

Then he knew he was where he wanted to be. He stopped moving his feet and skidded to a halt, leaving meter-long marks in the direction he came from. He looked around at those already there. He nodded to Jikrae with a quiet greeting, he waved to Amelia as he walked towards the Craftsman. He stopped a few feet away from him and bowed, "Greeting, Great Craftsman."

Due to the proximity of their garden to the mountains, the deep sanguine tones of the Bell when it resounded through the air, caused no small amount of consternation.

Cries of alarm and squeals of shock arose. Those tending the small, newly transplanted bed of crops dropped their gardening tools and clamped their hands over their ears, those whittling branches and fashioning arrowheads similarly abandoned their implements in shock. Adrian and Levin had been sparring with stout oaken staffs on the far side of the garden by the brook, and the latter narrowly missed a hefty blow to the head when the sound distracted him and made him gaze up at the mountains, open-mouthed; it didn't help that Adrian's swing had gone wild due to similarly caused distraction on his part. Pascal and his playmates paused in their game of stacking small rocks one on top of the other, and fled shrieking to the nearest place of sanctuary--crouched behind the shelter of a large mulberry bush in the girls' case, and in Pascal's, behind Nyx, who had risen hastily to her feet as well.

Placing a hand unconsciously on the little boy's head, Nyx gazed at the mountains on the horizon. The Bell. She knew it instinctively, though she had never heard it before, and it roused within her a faint disquiet mingled with half-fearful anticipation. The first Stone Council had just been summoned, then, and she was finally to meet all of her brethren.

"Lady Nyx!" She turned to see her people sprinting towards her, Adrian and Marina in the forefront. They came to a pause around her, jostling for space and breathless with worry and anticipation.

"What was that?" asked Marina, followed mere seconds later by Adrian with a blurted "That sound!"

"It came from the mountains," Bona commented half-fearfully. "Do you--"

"It is the Bell," Nyx said quietly, cutting her off and staunching the various questions that hovered on their lips. "It is summoning me, and the rest of my brethren."

"You mean...now?" Levin, this time. She nodded, and the worried look on his face was mirrored, passed and exchanged between the rest of the people. Pascal gripped her robes tighter. Disquiet and worry was evident in everyone's eyes, but as before, only the child was free and forward enough to ask the question that evidently stung them all from within.

"You'll come back, right?" he inquired, tugging on her robes and looking up with big, trusting blue eyes.

"Of course," Nyx smiled down at him, hiding her own worry. She pulled gently on her robes to disengage them from her grip. Time was passing, and while she delayed here, her fellow Exiles were already gathering at the Council. Much as she regretted it, she had to leave without dawdling for further explanations.

Adjusting her robes, she stepped back, out of the half-circle of people. "Continue your work," she directed quietly. "I will not be long." And with that, she closed her eyes and quietened her mind, focusing on attempting something she had not done before.

The power to change her shape was something she instinctively knew she possessed, though she had yet to try it. But the mountain was some distance away, and the need to cover the distance quickly called for a different form. She could see it already in her mind. A small bird not unlike a dove, but with pale, subdued grey plumage and soft feathers.

She felt her physical form shift and dissolve, and heard the fresh yelps of consternation and alarm from her people, and knew the change had been effected. From the vantage point of another person, she supposed it looked like she had simply dissolved into wispy, ever-shifting grey smoke that coalesced into the new form. She flapped her wings, and was off, arcing above the verdant garden and the tops of the trees before banking hard and sweeping around to head towards the bluish mountains in the distance.

Despite its small, fragile appearance, her new form moved with a speed that was unlike any mortal bird; it seemed to flow with the wind rather than on it. The ground beneath her blended into a blur of pastel shades of green, ochre and copper that were soon replaced by the harsh, forbidding blue-black crags of the mountains. She soared over cliffs and outcrops, and swept past caves, and then she was above the gathering clouds and arcing towards the courtyard where the Council was to be convened.

She had begun to transform before she landed, dissolving once more into wraithlike tendrils of wispy smoke that arched and curved in on themselves before spiralling around each other and snaking upwards in a pillar-like form to coalesce into her once more. As her feet touched the ground, she was herself once more, without so much as stirring the material of her robes or a strand of her hair.

The first thing she did was glance around the courtyard, taking in every detail and sizing them up with quick, deep deliberacy. The Craftsman she recognized instantly. The others, she presumed, were her brethren.

"Craftsman," she murmured, bowing her head to him. "And my fellow Exiles. I am glad we meet at last." She spoke the last words with obvious sincerity, following them with a faint smile.

She spotted a spear or two and then she noticed his form as she was pulled to her feet. She blinked and had her vision become stable again. She heard Roet sound quite surprised at her visit. "I'm sorry I came so suddenly, I wanted to see how you were doing." She turned back to the group of humans, she waved a bit and smiled sheepishly, "Sorry for scaring you like that." She pointed to herself, "Remember, I was the one with Roet when he first came." She doubted whether or not they could remember since they had just 'awoken', in a sense.

Then she heard the bell and sighed, looking Northwards. She looked back to Roet, "It seems we have to go." She didn't really understand the meaning for the bell but for some reason, she knew she had to go, or suffer the wrath of the Craftsman. With another sigh, she smiled to Roet, "I'll see you there than." She walked off of the grass and, before he could say anything, dashed off back towards Laeray.

When she arrived back, they were already awake and somewhat worried about her. She had guessed Alexander had told them what she had told him since he was basically absent when she returned. With a sigh, she had to explain to them that she would be gone for the rest of the day. As well, that they should continue on with the construction without her. She said it would be a test for them.

She drew a small picture in the ground of what they should do first and what the ending would look like. Although it wasn't a typical house. It was still shelter. A square building with a place for a door and about five windows. It would be built near the pen for the animals. She nodded to them all and wished them luck as she dashed off to head to the council.

As she ran, she had that feeling again when she first learned how to run. As well, she could only guess she was later than everyone else. I hope I'm not too late.... She thought as she continued to dash across the land, gaining momentum as she went. A little while after she left Laeray, she could feel her limit. She hoped it would be up ahead soon. As if granting her wish, she spotted the council.

A marble courtyard, twelve stone pillars and a circular table. That was all she could really see as she drew closer. At fist she knew that she had come to the right place due to the strangely smooth mountain. As she actually came to the base, she spotted others on it. Although, she only knew the Craftsman. She slowed down at about a minute or two walking distance and eventually stopping right in front of the courtyard and walking in.

She was looked at all the different people, the strange courtyard and just about everything. She could also feel how much colder it was up here than before. It wasn't a big dip, but enough for her to notice it without strain. She took a few deep breaths, her lungs starving for oxygen from that run, and approached the group. She smiled and waved to everyone, greeting them. "Hello."

Ember merely stood, his fires growing as the other exile went about his tongue lashing. Ember stood, listening to only swatches of what the exile said. Ember was enough of a cruel thing to have a general idea of everything he was saying anyhow. It was the way of things, it was the way of hate. This Exile that had made contact with him on rather peaceful terms now hated him, and Ember could feel the hate. He basked in it. He also had use for it.

Ember’s people had, like before, stood lined up into columns behind the two exiles and heard everything both exiles had said. As the Exile talked of drowning them in torrents of water and destroying Ember and his people, it reaffirmed everything Ember had taught them of strangers. Their hate and distrust of outsiders was redoubled the way no teachings ever could. It was marvelous, what hate could do to a people, how it could galvanize them and mobilize them to deeds that would seem otherwise horrible. Ember loved it, harnessed it, was intimate with the hate of all things about him. He exuded it like sweat, radiated outward from him with the heat of his flames, disguising the hateful aura as warmth. Ember had never felt better.

“His land shall be turned to ash and geysers of magma shall roast his people.” He said low, but loud enough so that his people behind him could still hear, as he watched and then sensed the departing Exile. He looked out into the desert, contemplating the things he would do when he came across the man’s land. It made him almost gleeful with eager excitement. In his mind flashed the images of a land burned to a crisp, the ground covered in layers of ash and all about him volcanoes sprung forth burning lava. It would be a wondrous place, an example set for the rest of the Exiles who wished to oppose him when the time of Ember’s rule came. Soon, always approaching, the days when fire would rain from the sky and the Earth turned to ash would be upon them.

But not yet. Not for years, in fact. Ember was broken out of his sinister day dreams by the realization they had wasted too much time already. Now his people had an enemy, a tangible thing for them to focus their impassioned hate towards. Ember knew the power that alone would bring them, the ability to sacrifice much for the reason of destroying their most despised enemies. The formation of the Cult of Fire was coming neigh at an extreme pace, soon they would not hate merely for personal base human reasons, but for religious, moral, ethical, and economic reasons. In time, in time. They were still too crude, too simple, to become Ember’s zealots.

He turned about to his would-be warriors of fire, raising his flaming arms high above them as his people stood deathly still, expressionless, and watched him. Ember then began one of his fiery sermons, more befitting of a 17th century priest than a god.
“You now have a taste of what the despicable outsiders are, of their hateful ways.” Ember said, his ghost voice wavering outward and washing over them. “They will try to snuff out our flame with their combined might, going against our righteous way of life.” The gathered people of the land of fire gained hateful glares at the unknown strangers, fire burning in their eyes as they thought of the other despised peoples.

Out of nowhere the loud dinging of a bell rang out across the world, annoyingly interrupting Ember as he preached fire and brimstone to his people. He turned about to the sound, dropping his arms and letting his flames growing even larger. He knew what it was for immediately, understanding everything about why he must go there when called. It was the Craftsman, the only outsider that would not be hated in his land.

Without any warning to his people, who stood somewhat mystified but not as surprised as one might think(they had Ember as a master, unexpected things happened a lot), Ember stomped off across the desert in a straight line for council lands. He faintly was aware of the ability to transform himself into another, perhaps faster, being… but he did not wish it. He hated most all other things that he had encountered and refused to take their shape. Ember’s own form was the only one he believed suitable for him.
Behind him, the people of his land went back to their work. Even with him gone, their hate fueled them to continue production of tools and the improving of their homes. They began to experiment with mud and heat, making foundations for small hovels. Even without their master looming over them, the zeal he inspired within them kept them at their tasks faithfully.

Ember came to the mountain in a little amount of a time, hating the ominous black clouds that hovered about the mountain above. He looked at the face of stone, unsure as to how to scale it in his form and hating the fact. Never one for complicated solutions, he merely climbed it normally. Using his strength and speed, he scaled the mountain with hands and feet, making grips where there were none and climbing up it like a spider. Though it was demanding, Ember felt no pain. His nerves had been deadened to much by the flames which had birthed him and still writhed about his body. He came to the courtyard in a short while, noticing the other Exiles already gathered with veiled contempt. He stood at the cliff face, just on the edge of the marble courtyard and the things that laid within. He merely stood at the edge of the assembled group, his hands clenched into fists at his side and his flames whipping about him wildly as his bloodshot red eyes examined each of them in turn.

Not surprisingly, he found he hated them all.

The golden-haired exile stood before her charge, who waited for her words. Although they were all thoroughly awed, they knew not how to show their respect, bowing and formal speech being unknown concepts to these fresh people. Mythee wished not to let them stumble into the same mistakes that races past had made; for them to worship their own Kin, and forget that all sentient things had equal rights. But rulers had to be a little arrogant, and make respect towards them absolute, or law and order would be questioned and ignored. No, there would be no chaos in Mythee's realm; she envisioned a prosperous, rich Kingdom, full of variety and life, a great center for trade where every voice can be heard and you can find all a manner of professions. Yes, the children would run freely in the streets, safe from danger, and the wizened elderly would be lively and never cease to joke and dream, even in their old age. But until then, she had much work to do. She took the first step.

"I am Mythee , and I am your ruler. Likewise, you are my people, and without you I am nothing. I am also an Exile, and can grant you knowledge and strength. Should you wish for it, I will dedicate my life to you and your descendants, help you build great cities and live lives of comfort, free from danger. I sense that there will be much conflict ahead, and perhaps also war. " she said this thinking of Ember, who filled her with foreboding certainty. She would wish to avoid fighting that Exile that she sensed, but he was one to cause such worry; besides, was he truly fit to lead Humans? She feared for them... Seeing the looks of incomprehension on the faces of her subjects, Mythee loosened up and continued: "Ah, but there is also safety and happiness within our reach, and I will teach you the meaning of these things far before any speech of war. Know what you can lose, and you will know better how to keep it. So... I will now show you what I can do."

Mythee looked around at the young growing plants, and with a few flicks of her hand they grew taller and wider, into cotton bushes and long flax. Silkworms sprouted from the ground and at first reproduced and grew at a shocking rate, but it soon slowed and stopped. Her folks were visibly enthralled, but she had to hide some disappointment at how small her powers had become. Ah, so this is the reason why her arrival had been so difficult -she had forced herself in prematurely, despite her meager state. But the three laws... yes, she would tell them that, too.

"The more children you have, the longer you live, the more I can do. There is enough here for five or six- with these, clothes can be made. Like this cloak I carry." She indicated her white garment.
"But I want this instead!" Said a little boy, who clung to Mythee's side and pointed to her armor. His mother, the woman who had first helped Mythee, smiled apologetically. The Exile laughed inside, thinking that even now, little boys will be little boys.
"We won't be making cloaks or armor, child; we will be making simpler, warmer things. Do you have a name?" She asked, thinking that if these humans had a language and names for other things, they would surely have names themselves. But she got to be honestly surprised when the people looked at each other in confusion.
"Ah... well then. what do you call each other?"
"Mother." "Son." "Friend." "Daughter of friend?" Answered some, uncertainly.
"Oh, then you will have to find them! -" But then Mythee was interrupted by the echoing sound of a Bell, resonating powerfully through the air. An instruction mysteriously came back to mind, and she understood that she must go. To the Stone Council. The men and women before her were trying to comfort their cowering children and looking to Mythee for guidance.
"Do not be afraid." She spoke reassuringly. "It is only a call- it is inoffensive and you will not hear it often."
It worked, since even the children had calmed down, and were now only curiously peering into the distance.
"Are you leaving?" Asked a woman worriedly. "How will we find names and make clothes without you?"
"I am." She said , causing some to gasp again. "But I will return not too long from now."
The child who still clung to her did not let go, so she removed her pristine cloak in a sweeping motion and placed it gently upon his shoulders. "I will be back for this." she promised with a smile, and left, taking no form- she only dashed away, with long high jumps unlike anything a human could do. She reveled the sensation of wind against her face, but the distant memory of her steed returned to her, filling her with nostalgia and regret. She unconsciously rested a hand on her greatsword , who was more a part of her than not; ah, she was probably not supposed to bring this. She chuckled. But all other thoughts were erased as she finally arrived to the Council, and landed a safe distance from those already present so as not to cause a disturbance. She walked the remainder of the way, the sound of moving metal and armor accompanying her every step.

"Greetings, Roet, Nyx, Jikrae, Toucan, Ave, Shizuka, Dunaldra... Ember. Ah, so many familiar faces." She made a small curt bow before the Craftsman, and then said: "And greetings to you, Craftsman. It is always an honor to be of service."
She always liked the old man - he was admirably competent.

Amelia looked about the group of exiles. Some were in forms of humans, or variations of human forms, while others were completely different species. She was mildly interested by them all. She looked about the group again and noticed Roet who had seemed to arrive shortly after her. She would have guessed him to arrive before she did. Since she had to stop at Laeray along the way. She silently sighed, pushing that thought away.

As more exiles arrived, she was surprised to find that one already knew her name. Although, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember their name. She wished she could have said hello back, but she really couldn't without knowing their name since they already knew her's. All of the exiles seemed to do the same thing when they arrived. They had approached the Craftsman and bowed, saying hello.

She was somewhat annoyed by how they were acting towards him. He was one of them, a living being with strange powers. Why should he be treated with greater respect? Although he may have the ability to create or destroy exiles, Amelia just didn't see any reason to treat him like that. She would prefer to treat him as though he was a friend than anything else.

There was an other, since she had arrived, who didn't do as the rest had. As far as she could tell, they were staying away from the group, and they seemed rather angry. She noticed that buy the way they clenched their fists. What sparked her interest enough to actually approach him was the fact that they were basically on fire.

She went over to him quickly, using the irregular speed to get in front of him before he had time to turn around. She popped in front of Ember and smiled, giving a short wave. "Hi there!" She said happily, wondering how he would react. "I'm Amelia, who are you?" She watched him carefully, wondering if his mood had any effect on the flames or not.

Tamasha
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 5:00 pm

History of the Exiles Page Seven

The craftsman turned his head towards Amelia with a a small but notable droop of his mustaches. "I appreciate your sentiment, but the meeting is begun, and the time for banter is over. I ask that you all take your seats. Any who are not here at this point will have to brave the storm that rages underneath us."

He strode slowly to the table and took his place in his chair, seating himself with dignity upon the simple iron seat. It looked exactly like all of the other chairs. He had made sure that it sat no higher than any of theirs. His place as overseer did not make him the supreme ruler. At least, that was the persona that he wished to portray. He knew that he was the only one with enough power to murder any one of them, and that made him the supreme ruler of their lives in most respects.

"Be seated."

They all took their seats. He eyed each of them in turn. "Ave, Dunaldra, Dessande, Ember, Jikrae, Mythee, Nyx, Roet, Shizuka, and Toucan...I thank you all for your timely arrival."

He nodded his head serenely towards all of them. "This is the first meeting here, though there will be many more. Although the next will not be for a century." His silvery eyes glinted. "First, I want to make sure that all of you understand where you are and your place. This world, as you know, has only just begun to live. Barely has water began to flow here, and barely has anything begun to grow. However the planet grows more and more every day at an accelerated rate. It wants to be alive and you have all attuned yourselves to it in a remarkably short time."

"I'm sure that you all know what the word exile means, so then you must know that you have all been banished from another place and sent here at the discretion of a higher order. I would like to make it clear that I am not that higher power that sent you here. I tell you this only so that you will view me as an ally rather than an enemy. I tell you that because if any one of you makes an attempt at my life then I will send you where you were supposed to go."

He placed his hands on the table before him, his spindly fingers wove together. "I'm sure that you all vaguely remember each other, perhaps a few of you even vaguely remember me. I can assure you that memories of your past existences will be completely fleeting, and a few of you will have none of those because you are entirely new, birthed by me along with this place. I believe that you new Acolytes are what will give you a chance to return to glory. That is something I truly want for all of you. However it can only come from proving your worth."

He turned specifically to Ember. "Ember, you are a necessary force on this planet and you give mankind a strength that he could not know without you." He smiled, "And despite yourself, you created love along with your particular domain. I'm sure that you all know that love and hate are merely the opposing horns on the same ram." His tone got more serious. "I'll tell you this about the place before this one. It was destroyed. Marching armies each flying flags that bore your names marched across the world, ravaging it with machines and bloodshed. The world sunk into such a state of hatred and fury that it destroyed itself. And now, you are mere fractions of yourselves. Though I think this is to your benefit. You will now have to earn more power and hopefully you will all learn the value of balance. The value of life. War will happen. It is in the nature of humankind, it is the pieces of chaos that they bore with them in their creation. Yet it is this savagery that allows them to endure while at the same time ruining them. For every time we create a sentient race from the dark nothingness, it claims the same shape. It mimics us. No matter how we will try to shape it differently their indomitable spirit will always chisel out that form for itself. It is a curious study."

He leaned back against his chair. "I'm afraid that I can't tell you much more than that. However I can try and answer your questions. I would also like you to know each other. As I said earlier, here we will be civil." His mustaches lifted. "I am also curious about your people, how are you handling them?" He asked as he opened the floor.

Amelia spun her head around and looked to him, away from Ember, Can he read minds? She wondered with a sigh and moved away from Ember. Now she had to pay attention. She gave a short wave to him though, before sitting down at her respectable seat.

She looked around the table at everyone, they all seemed just as interesting, appearance wise, as Ember. Her attention was drawn away from the rest of the exiles as the Craftsman began to talk about why they were called 'exiles'. Not once had she bothered to think of the reason. Nor did she really care before, now she did.

So... we were banished? But why were we banished? Did we do something bad? She wondered as she looked around the table again. This time her composure was nearly perfectly and she wasn't as she was a few moments before. Then, she nearly lost that composure when she heard him say that they all had memories, but that they were leaving. So is that why I can't remember these people, even though some seem to remember me? She sighed, trying to comprehend this. It wasn't every day that you were told your previous self was disappearing, only to be replaced by someone new.

She was pulled away from her thoughts again when he spoke of how the world had once been destroyed. Somehow, she couldn't understand that either. In any case, she tried to understand. What really peaked her interest was the fact that although they were being replaced by a totally new person, memory wise, when they had first arrived, they were already as they were before. Well, perhaps without the power, Amelia thought as she noticed the Craftsman had offered to hear how everything was going for each of them.

She quickly raised her hand like a small child. She really wanted to be the first one to speak. As well, she didn't want to have to interrupt anyone else, as she guessed that the others would randomly talk aloud, hoping to speak first.

Roet listened closely to every word that the Craftsman said. He waited for a few seconds after he asked how the people were, but ended up speaking first anyway, "My people are floroushing. We were already beginning our first structure as you called. Every single one of them has been working very hard, and I am proud of them more than I can say. One of them is even trying to tame a young wolf pup, whose mother he killed in defense while I was teaching him..." He suddenly realized he was rambling and stopped, looking around at the others, suddenly knowing each by name. He looked at each, remembering some quite clearly, others only vaguely, some he didn't even remember at all. I wonder why Ember seems to be in most of my memories... he doesn't seem like the kind of person I'd hang out with...

Immediately serious, Mythee seated herself besides Roet at the Craftsman's request, and listened to his explaining. She was not bothered that her previous self was to dissapear; she had noticed already that many pieces were missing. There was nothing that could indicate where the names of people or the feelings that had emerged from her uncertain memories came from. She knew she had lost precious things: a previous world, close friends, her steed whose appearance she could not remember... But none of this mattered much; she was herself, and with time she would be a different self, and another different self after. Personalities and memories were inconsequential as long as the mind and its essential knowledge was not lost. She was still alive, and felt both gratitude and grief for what had happened. She would mourn the lost realm, but celebrate the new.

So, everyone here was an Exile; was this name given to them by the Craftsman, or by the higher power he spoke of? But Exile suggested failure, and this meant that as they were now, they could fail once more. It also suggested some kind of dishonor... Mythee furrowed her brow, closing her eyes in reflexion. If this were the case, she would atone for it tenfold on this planet. All of her efforts will be put into maintaining peace and the pride of all Humans populating the Gardens, and she swore to herself that upon her honor, she would not fail again.

She looked around the table, thinking that alliances were a risky thing; but some will have to be made for the sake of safety for their respective peoples. Hearing what Roet said, she smiled- it was nice to see that others were growing attached to their charge already. She waited patiently for the other eager ones to speak, amused by Amelia's youthful attitude. The golden Exile thought her to be quite endearing.

Jikrae followed the rest of the Exiles who were present to the table and took his seat as far away from Ember as he could.

A glimmer of understanding flitted through Jikrae's mind as the Craftsman spoke of the old world, with Warlords marching across the land, slaughtering their opponents in fury and exerting all their wrath upon other neighbors, both pacifistic and warlike. For an instant, Jikrae realized that such must have been the reason they were Exiled from that world. Then, just as fast as the thought had come to him, his mind lost its grip on the thought and it vanished, leaving Jikrae straining to remember it.

He listened to Roet speak of his world, trailing off and digressing into details that, while important to him, served little purpose to most of them. Jikrae, however, immediately assumed that, if everyone in Roet's Kingdom was like the person caring for the Wolf Cub, they would be a pacifistic nation, though undoubtedly powerful.

When Roet realized he was digressing and cut himself off, Jikrae spoke up.

"In my Kingdom, we have constructed basic sidearms for our people to use once I have taught them to properly fight, and construction will soon begin on a Fortress to deter the more militaristic individuals of this world from attacking us.

"If I may ask such a thing, Craftsman, do we have any guarantee that the other Exiles will not attack their neighbors? I will defend my nation without question, but if we see someone else in danger from a different nation, are we permitted to come to their aid? I would prefer not to sit idly by while key pieces of this world are destroyed."

Since it was impossible to detect where Jikrae's eyes were at any one time, he observed the other Exiles liberally, knowing that none of them could be offended by the appraisal if none of them knew it was occurring. His head was constantly moving around, but it never stopped moving while it was pointed directly at another Exile.

Amelia was really the only one who caught his eye, but he couldn't figure out why. He'd have to remember to ask her what her Domain was after the meeting was completed. It didn't seem appropriate to ask such a mundane question in the middle of such an important meeting.

Zephyr had placed herself on a big rock so that she could not have the humans loom over her. They had been frightened by her sudden attack and were now fidgeting around on the ground. Zephyr watched them as the examined the wound of the man and was curious about the blood. The night was drawing closer and it did seem to become harsh and cold.

Already many of the humans shivered when the wind howled. They were scared and looked with pleading eyes towards her. Zephyr stood up and cached the wind in her wings. She soared towards the sky and headed towards where the four legged creatures had been before.

The humans were left alone for now. They looked after the disappearing figure in the air. Some began to speak in low voices. There was some doubt that it was healthy to follow this green creature. So far she had only taught them about pain and how to grovel. The man that had been cut was still clutching his arm and drew all the attention to him.
Very quickly he had noticed that if he screamed the other would turn towards him and listen to his lament.

But after a while the human were interrupted by a thundering noise. At a distance they saw the horned four legged comes closer. These had grey fur and they trotted towards the group of humans. On the horns of one of the creatures stood Zephyr.
She jumped down as they came forth to the humans and stopped.

Immediately the humans kneeled in front of her. Zephyr held up one hand and showed them some herbs and long broad leaves. "See these herbs and recognize them." Then she went into the group of humans and approached the man that was hurt. She crushed the plant in her hand and smeared it on his arm. Then she secured the goo with the long leaves. It all became a rather nice package.

The man with the wound whined when she messed with his arm but he noticed that the herbs had a bit of a numbing effect. Zephyr returned to the four legged creatures held up a winged arm to get the humans eyes turned towards them. "This is a reindeer. If you make them your friends and allies they can provide you with warmth and shelter for the night."
After her little speech Zephyr took to the skies again and landed on her boulder to watch the two animals approach each other.

--------------
The next day when Zephyr watched the humans they were sleeping peacefully close to the reindeers. They had been gathering grass to cover their body’s and then curled up next to the furry animals to gain warmth. The grass had isolated them from the wind and the reindeers had calmed them all down. Zephyr smiled.
Maybe there was hope for them after all. But the lack of fur was a huge design fault.

The next two days Zephyr taught the human how they could identify edible plants on the plains. There were not all that many of them but they could get milk from the reindeers. Their language improved and they were soon able to communicate with each other. Zephyr taught them names of different animals that the met. There were both rabbits and some lone foxes. The rabbits were made fun of rather quickly when they recognized the resemblance between them and Zephyr.

The day when the bell tolled had started of rather good. The humans had just gotten the hang on how to construct a simple snare and how to set it up where the rabbits often ran. Zephyr feared that they had not gotten the full picture of what would happen but that she had to worry about if they actually caught something.

The wind blew around her body and caught her ears making them flap wildly in the wind. Zephyr flinched and heightened her arm the sound of the bell that the wind carried had surprised her. So far her world had been very quiet. The human were chattering a bit among each other but it was no sound like this. But for some strange reason Zephyr knew that she had to go.
The human were trying to eat the grass in the same manner that the reindeers did but they had no huge success. Zephyr smiled and shook her head. Then she flew with a loud shrieking up into the air. The humans turned and looked after her. They knew that she usually brought something good when she took of so they did not fret.

Zephyr travelled as quickly as she could. But the goal was far away and there were no signs that said where to go.

The wind began to tear at her body. It was not in anyway easy to keep steady. She had not encountered winds as strong as these before. The journey was slowed down and Zephyr struggled. She rose high and tried to fall forward but it was not very affective.
Then after a long time of fighting the wind her way was blocked. The foot of the mountain seemed to appear from nowhere and Zephyr had no time to stop.

She smashed into the rock hard. Pebbles fell around her and the pain in her body rolled over her like a blanket. For a moment she just lay there with the storm howling around her. She suddenly didn't feel very eager to travel forth at this moment. But she continued up none the less. It was a hard journey and the wind was threatening to throw her down a few times.
Then the wind resided and she had reached the top. Zephyr got up and stood on staggering legs. There were others here. People she thought that she had seen before but could not really place a face on. She approached them with as much dignity that she could gather at this moment but it was a failure since she had been banged up pretty badly. Without saying a word she sat down on a chair. She did not look at the people that sat on her sides but she did look up briefly to nod a greeting to the Craftsman.

The Craftsman turned to Jikrae, his cold eyes regarding him with no emotion. "I am not so much a leader as I am an advisor. If you want to wage war on a neighbor then far be it from me to question you. These are your people, not mine. Do with them as you will. I am not here to govern. I am here to see how you all govern. I leave it for your judgment to decide whether or not to aid another."

With that he faced the center of the table again. Looking to his left at Roet he nodded approvingly. "That's very nice to hear, Roet. You sound like you're trying to create a Utopia. Utopia's have always had a way of being found out and destroyed or becoming corrupt. However, I've always admired your nurturing attitude towards your subjects."

Finally, he turned to Mythee. "I can see that the concept of dishonor troubles you greatly. You may not remember what happened Mythee, and you never will know. None of you will. However if I may offer you this small consolation." He leaned in towards her, his long eyebrows drooped, shading his eyes. "You fought for your beliefs until the very end, and you never once betrayed yourself or your people."

His emotionless eyes peered into the various faces, waiting to hear if anybody else has questions. When Zephyr crawled up pathetically over the edge of the cliff and wordlessly took her seat. He smiled at her with a small amount of pride.

"Ah. Zephyr, it is good to see you. Facing that storm was punishment enough. Welcome."

Ave stared off into space, a smile on her lips for no particular reason. The Craftsman’s news did not bother her. The past was gone, and thus not her concern any longer. The future was what held her attention. She listened carefully to what the other exiles had said, getting whatever information she could out of them. Their words were mostly about their concerns; so she paid them little heed. She began to watch the storm unfurl, the ferocity of the clouds entrancing her.

Her mind beginning to wander, her attention jumped back at the Craftsman’s words. War, as far as she was concerned, was a thing of the past. Obviously the destruction of a world had proven that. Though still smiling, she narrowed her eyes slightly at the exile that had brought it up. As much as the Craftsman had said that the exiles had fought another in the past, she found it hard to imagine her own involvement. She had no taste for war, righteous or not.

Thoughts forming unbidden, she chose to voice them aloud. “So Craftsman, what do you expect to come of this world? You say you wish for us to become new, to become greater, yet here you are saying that you care not about conflict. You would think, if you truly wish for us to act differently this time, that you would place some sort of restriction on war…” She gazed at him intensely and thoughtfully, while her smile was broad and innocent. "Surely you don't mean for us to end up like last time?" She began to fiddle with her hair, slowly twirling strands around her finger, ready and waiting for his response.

Amelia waited a moment, guessing that she could speak since no one else could when Roet did instead. She sighed and put her hand down, glaring like a small child at him. Hadn't he seen her with her hand up? At least now she would be able to find out more about what Roet had been up to. She half listened to what he had to say, it seemed as though her people and his were going along quite well. Although she had to admit, the fact that they were raising a wolf pup was quite intriguing. She wondered if she could get an animal like that for the children to play with.

The second Roet stopped talking, she looked about the group for a moment. She was about to speak when Jikrae spoke and she gave him the same glare as she gave to Roet.

As she listened to his words, she wondered why he wondered about other nations attacking others. It seemed posteriors at the moment. To loose people in a meaningless battle would serve both sides no purpose. Yet, somehow, his words grabbed her attention. She had been feeling all the other exiles around Laeray from nearly each direction. Since the world was round, she could understand that but it also felt as though there were an equal number around. Although, that was just from what she could sense with the closer ones.

Amelia glanced over to the Craftsman as Jikrae finished speaking. He spoke about not interfering and somehow she felt as though he was a ruler who didn't care about what happened to his pons. As long as they satisfied him and made the game fun, that was all that mattered. At least from what his words. Although she couldn't quite recall where that thought came from. At the end, he said hello to someone else and Amelia looked over, not realizing someone else had come. She smiled to them and gave them a short wave before taking her chance.

Although it seemed as though someone had already taken it. She sighed and looked to Ave. She would wait until they were done their discussions of war and what not. She really had no interest in what they were talking about. It had more to do with their intent of saying those words that bothered her. She gave her glare to Ave as well and waited for her chance....

The Craftsman's steely eyes were turned towards Ave. His head snapped into her direction the moment she started speaking. He cocked his head slightly, causing his braided beard to twitch with the movement. "And what, pray tell, would that accomplish?"

He ran his hands along the edge of the table. Then intertwined them together as he studied her. "You were all of you deemed unfit to rule. Even you Ave. You all proved yourselves to be incompetent at the throne. It doesn't benefit a child at all to be sheltered and restricted. I fully expect there to be war, but I hope that the knowledge that this is your last chance to redeem yourselves will prove sufficient motivation for the warmongers to restrain themselves, and for the isolationists to come out from under their rocks."

He cracked his knuckles and continued. "You were supposed to be destroyed and face untold tortures and horror, but I made this place to intercept your fall. If you ever want to ascend back to your thrones you cannot do so merely because I controlled you adequately. You can only do so when you have truly learned something and mastered yourselves. None of you will benefit from a father figure." His voice rumbled slightly.

"Are you suggesting that I place too much faith in all of you, Ave? Because if that is the case then I may as well have cast you all down into Chaos. Instead I chose to save you because I believed you could change. Any fool knows that true change can only come from within yourself."

With that he stopped, and his voice returned to a more normal tone. Although it still held the same authoritative air. "Anyone else?" He asked. "Amelia, you've been wanting to speak for some time. I saw it on your face." He chortled with a twitch of his mustaches.

Amelia starred at the Crafstman, it seemed as though he was rather annoyed, perhaps even angry at Ave. She gulped and decided as though she might as well tell what she had learned. Since this topic was becoming rather awkward, at least for her.

She didn't want to have to hear what the Craftsman was saying. That she should have been in Chaos? She didn't want to think about being tortured. She didn't even know what she had did wrong. Although she guessed that she must of participated in the war somehow. Although it made her wonder how she may have. She quickly shook these thoughts out of her head and put a smile on her face, changing the subject as quickly as she could. It also seemed as though the Craftsman was wanting her to change the subject.

"Well, for me, I've found that my people are flourishing too. In fact, we've already named the small village. It's called Laeray." She paused for a short moment, "In any case, I've found my people to learn on their own. At least a few times they've surprised me. They've been prepared for a few things. As well, they're trying so hard that everything they make is quite well done." She paused again, seeming to smile at everyone, but yet she wasn't, as if she was smiling past them and into her own mind. "Oh yes! I've also grown many things. Like trees and food." She nodded to herself her smile half there now. She was trying to regain as much control over herself at the moment. If not, she could jump up at any time. "It seems as though they enjoy my company and consider me family as well. Just the other day one of the children called me 'sister'." She slowed down to a stop, looking around the exiles to see if any had kept with her pace and understood.

Roet listened to Jikrae speak. He barely held back from rolling his eyes. When Ave spoke, he simply smiled, not far from chuckling. He closed his eyes, listening more closely when The Craftsman spoke. What he said seemed to make sense. When he spoke to Amelia, Roet tried to smile apologetically to her, but she wasn't looking at him at the time.

wait a second... he thought, If he expects a war, I'll need to train my people and build a wall soon... we will be sheltered from this war...I'll extend my offer to Amelia aswell... yes... she deserves that much...

He looked up as Amelia spoke. Laeray... interesting name... it sounds strangely familiar. But why? I don't seem to remember a place with that name... hmm... I'll have to inquire about that... he smiled when she said that they seemed to think of her as family already. Then he had a thought. Looking towards The Craftsman, he spoke with much more seriousness in his voice than before. His voice was soft and his eyes were looking so intensly at the Craftsman that he might have been x-raying the apparently old man, "What was the previous land called?" Was that place called Laeray? it might've been... it might explain why she came up with that name...

For once, it seemed, there was not a smile on Ave’s face. She stared intensely at him, his words slowly repeating themselves in her mind. Supposed to be destroyed, down into the Chaos, are you suggesting that I place too much faith in all of you…. While it seemed his intentions were not as she had originally thought, his revelations were no less startling. Do you deem yourself to be our Savior Craftsman? Her thoughts were all a rush, and she felt herself slowly losing her reserve. She wanted to say many things, but for once she managed to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she kept the dare to herself. Yes, I do believe you have too much faith Craftsman…

Catching Amelia’s glare out of the corner of her eye, she turned to her and gave her a grin, her eyebrows raised slightly. With a smile back on her face, she slipped back into her calm. She stared off idly and shut off the rambling that proceeded from the Nature exile. It seemed this stone council would get no where exciting, if all the Craftsman expected were reports on the gardens. She began gently chewing on her finger, waiting for someone else to speak up.

Following everyone else's example, Dunaldra found the seat with her name on it and sat down. She then looked at the Craftsman and listened to his long speech, eager to learn answers as to why she was chosen to teach and raise these people. He told her about how a greater deity, even greater than he was, had summoned them onto this world with a mission. The world had been previously destroyed by war and chaos, and that explained why the world was only a barren wasteland. However, the world has been given a new chance at life. They were all created so that the people of the world could survive the changes that were to come. Thus, they would repopulate the world and return it back to it's former glory.

Dunaldra was not sure what to think as she looked around at the others around her. Not only were they supposed to recreate the world with their people, but they also had to get to know each other. She remembered from the first conversation she had with the Craftsman that she was nearest to the man named Ember. She thought that, perhaps, she could get to know him. However, the idea was soon lost when she found who exactly Ember was. His firey presense could obviously be sensed, and it was one not to be messed with. Also, the look in his eyes as he looked at everyone seemed like he just hated them all. No, getting to know the man was almost out of the question.

The desert mistress remembered the Craftsman mentioning two other names to her, one being someone by the name of Toucan. However, if she remembered correctly, Toucan was quite a distance away from where she was herself. Well, getting to know people was good and all, but what use could they be in battle when they were too far away? And she remembered someone by the name of the Acolyte of Light or something, but she noticed the name on the missing seat. So much for getting to know him.

Dunaldra went rigid, though, when the Craftsman asked everyone how their people were doing. She could even feel the flush of pink rise up in her cheeks as everyone described how their people were already beginning to build and other great feats. One could not blame her, she only had a couple of hours to be with her people before the bell actually rang, and yet, Duna did not want to mention how progress was going. After all, no one else knew she was one of the last ones to arrive to the gardens and get started.

However, it was unavoidable, since half of the people there had already described their progress with their people. Fiddling with the fingers in her lap, Dunaldra looked at the Craftsman as she said, 'Well, I can't say I have gotten as far as others. My people have been given names and know many of the things that surround them. My men know how to make fire, while the women and children know that fruit is their closest food supply."

"However, they know not what lies beyond the garden nor how to defend themselves against it. I was going to do so soon, since their current food supply will not last long, but the Bell rang. Thus, I had to come here and hope that they do not wander away from the garden." Dunaldra finished, her hands having moved from playing with her pants to brushing her silver hair behind her ears.

Amelia looked over to Roet, who seemed to have looked at her moments before, although she wondered why. She was still somewhat angry at him for talking first. In any case, it seemed as though he was thinking about something. She starred at him for a moment until he spoke to the Craftsman. It seems the fact she brought up the naming of her town struck Roet to think of something.

The previous land? She wondered, repeating his question in her head. She didn't really understand where he was going with this. Although, after she thought somewhat hard about it, she kind of got it. Perhaps he's wondering if the naming of my town might have anything to do with my past life? She continued to think of that while awaiting the Craftsman's answer.

Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 5:09 pm

History of the Exiles Page Eight

Nyx listened carefully to all of this, hands folded in her lap and head inclined ever so slightly to the side. To another person, it might not seem like she was paying particular attention, but in fact, she was drinking in and absorbing every word.

And, she was already learning much. The personalities and natures of her fellow Exiles, for one. Amelia and Roet she already liked, for the simple fact that it was evident that they too, genuinely cared for their people. The others too, seemed to all intents and purposes to match the general personas that she had imagined they would progress. Ember filled her with vague disquiet. Until then, she had almost no memories of her previous life to go by, but now a faint, tattered memory that was little more than an ambiguous feeling woke in the back of her mind.

She buried it once more. If that Craftsman spoke true, and she was sure he did, this was a new beginning and fresh start for them all. A chance to redeem themselves, to make up for the faults of their past. And old enmities had no place here. She would treat all of her fellow Exiles with the same trust and friendship until they did something to merit otherwise.

Ah yes, the Craftsman. More than the words that fell from the lips of the other Exiles, his struck the most deeply. A previous world. Destruction and war, exile and supposed death. The thoughts sent a slight chill through her. For the first time, she wished the accursed fogs surrounding her memory would part to give her a clearer vision of the past, that she might avoid its repetition.

Even as all these thoughts ran through her head, she remained quiet. She knew she would eventually have to speak, but until then, it was not her nature to push herself forward in the midst of a group.

She had not expected the Craftsman to tell her about this on his own, although she had intended to ask. At his revelation she blinked in surprise, and a weight seemed to suddenly lift from her as she refocused on the conversation. She gave him a nod of thanks, and answered curtly: "My thanks, Craftsman. Your words comfort me greatly."

She gave Zephyr a greeting smile as she arrived, but quickly frowned again when Ave so foolishly attempted to provoke the Craftsman. This one, she would have to watch out for; an irrational being could easily cause disaster. This Ave was dangerously chaotic, and could be an obstacle to the wellbeing of this world. Mythee would keep an eye on her.

After Dunaldra spoke, Mythee gave the woman Exile a friendly smile, since she appeared to be troubled by her similarly late arrival. She deemed it to be the right time to speak. "Alas, I have come late as well, and have had barely the time to speak to my people. I am not saying that this was insufficient, however, to understand a few things about them. They are a brave people, unafraid and eager to learn. I trust they will grow much and well, and I with them."

Ember took his seat, still a bit surprised by the woman Amelia’s attempt at joviality. He found himself wanting to hate her, but really just not being able to quite work it up. It would be like hating a child because he didn’t know what a polynomial was. It would be not only unnecessary, but a blatant waste of good hate. Ember was never in a shortage of such emotion, of course, but it was still wrong to waste such a great thing. Ember hated to waste things.

The Craftsman call to be seated came at a most opportune time, for Ember had planned to merely stare at the female Exile until she left him be. It was really quite interesting, she seemed not to feel the waves of hatred that oozed from him. Ember left the matter be as he found his seat, sitting bolt upright with his arms on both rests and his hands digging deeply into the end of the armrests. His flames enveloped much of the chair as he sat, seeming to darken it ever so slightly in a most strange way. He looked about not at all, merely straight ahead across the table and out into what lay behind. He listened carefully to the dialogue of the Craftsman and Exiles, not particularly caring for the Craftsman’s details of hate begetting love and so forth. Obviously he showed nothing outwardly, not even allowing his flames to brighten as per the norm, but inwardly he chuckled at the description of the past world.

He knew without doubt that his former self had something to do with the downfall of that gone land, believed it with every bone in his flaming body. He had no memories of such events, but who else could orchestrate such a magnificent thing as the downfall of a planet?
A few of the other Exiles, a few of the lesser Exiles rather, came forth with their descriptions of their weak peoples. He found various things to hate in all of them, though the taming of the wolf gave him certain useful ideas to be stored away for later. He studied them intently as they talked of preventing war, worrying pettily of things that Ember would make sure of. He liked the Craftsman’s approach to it all, but these other Exiles seemed most unreceptive to the concept of their lands being turned to fields of blood. But he cared not, none of it mattered. The time would come when his people would inherit the world and cleanse it in a baptism by fire.

The strange Exile Amelia gave her description and Ember found no one jumping up to continue. Without much deliberation, he got the nuisance out of the way as quickly as possible.
“My people serve faithfully and obediently in their duties.” He said simply, not making a move to elaborate or continue on. What he said was the truth, they had served him most faithfully thus far and would soon serve him with every ounce of their being. They had much to do yet, but they would come about eventually and be ready to serve Ember even more intimately.

His charred fingers dug into the chair even more fully, leaving indentations. He loved the feeling.

Ember was the first person Roet had evcer hated on sight. He suddenly realized why Ember was in so many of his memories; Roet had been trying with all his might to stop Ember from destroying the world. He had obviously failed. He vowed silently that he wouldn't again. He subconsiously fingered the knife at his waist. He remembered pulling the bone out of the carcass of the first doe that Polidarius had killed. It had been a moment of recognition for everyone of the village- they had never before seen death.

Faithfully and obediently my a**... More like 'under the threat of pain and death'. Roet glared at Ember. He was going to be very painful to be rid of. He would need plenty of help to destroy the weed that was Ember. He would need allies. Roet suddenly found himself plotting the destruction of Ember. No... we can't have that... it isn't right... with the proper provocation he will have war, but nothing more and nothing less...

Mythee regarded Ember coolly. She did not need to worry whether the great burning one would or would not attack- she knew. She would need only to find out how best to defend against him when the time comes for his ambitions to materialize into concrete action. She sighed inwardly- how tragic he was, how blind. Even if he found love once again, it was his nature to destroy... So, the world would inevitably succumb to war once again. She would do all she can so that it does not die in his flames... The flames may be beautiful, but they wreak death and havoc. They were meant to be banished forever to the aforementioned place of torture and sin, since they could do nothing but harm living things. But the wisdom and mercy of the Craftsman was great, and Mythee knew that in his position she would have done the same. Life was too precious to judge so, and even such a monstrous, twisted soul deserved a chance. But he would have to change, or many here would come together against him and destroy him. This sad prospect she could already see in the eyes of a few present who had doubtlessly come to similar realizations.

The Craftsman nodded silently, his chin clasped in his thin hands. His fingers tugged his beard in a leisurely manner. His eyes didn't betray it, but he was constantly stealing quick glances at Ave. She was sharp, sharper than he had counted on. People often forgot how intelligent she was. He would need to watch her carefully.

"I have faith that all of you will do fine with your people. However I fear I must apologize. I may have you caused you all no small amount of distress at the concept of war. Let me just address that war is not a certainty. However humankind is, and always was prone to bloodlust. They are difficult to control at best. Sadistic at worst. Your people, even yours, Amelia, may march to war sometime against your wishes. They are fine now, but see how they act when backed into a corner. Your boundaries will all expand, and unless you want to kill all of your fellow exiles you cannot prevent this from happening. Nonetheless, there is hope for all of you. There is hope for peace, although the road there may be piled high with corpses."

He looked at Roet. "And the name of our previous home is unimportant. Don't bother with such trivial information."

His focus was once again on everyone else. "You could all murder Ember if you thought it would accomplish anything." He challenged. "Certainly it seems like he is the only one who will attack," He gave Ember a wry grin. "There are many things that you can all do in concert. I leave it to you. Always remember that there is the library for you all to peruse at your leisure, as well. I'm sure you'll find him most helpful." He smiled.

"My place in this meeting is over. I urge you all to deliberate amongst yourselves what you will do. I also suggest that nobody judge Ember to harshly or regard him as a monster. That sort of ignorance will get you nowhere." He stood. "Mythee, when you are finished I would like to speak with you." He said seriously, running a hand down his braided beard. "I will be waiting for you, wherever you choose to go."

And he was gone. Perched on his chair there was an open wooden box, inside were amulets. One for each of them. They were flat and disc shaped, with a single nob on the edge of them. They hung on a fine silver chain. Ornately carved with the symbol of an outstretched hand clutching a smooth ruby that was set in it's center.

"A means of summoning me, simply twist the wheel when you need me. I have much work below ground." His voice echoed behind him.

The Craftsman was becoming moderately annoying to Jikrae's logical mind. He didn't seem to be making sense, and his caustic reaction to Ave's question told Jikrae that he was desperately trying to hide something. Jikrae knew he would be taking too many risks by asking the Craftsman the question that was gnawing at the edges of his mind, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Jikrae listened patiently to everyone speak as he kept his eyes trained on Amelia. He soon found that he would have no need to ask her what her particular Domain was, for when she gave her report to the Craftsman, she openly admitted it. He immediately decided that he would have to start his alliance with her, for many others would surely attempt the same if she could control life. He hardly thought before making a feasible excuse to bring her to his Kingdom for a few moments, hoping to utilize her skill to assist her while making a friendly first-impression.

Dunaldra was the first one present who appeared to actually make a mistake. Even Jikrae, who had seemed to give out far too much information, had told the Exiles only what would be common knowledge by the end of the month. Dunaldra, on the other hand, had told everyone present that she was undefended. Jikrae doubted that such a condition would last for long with all the talk of warring and defense, but it left her more vulnerable than any of the other Exiles if an overzealous leader wanted to begin his or her conquest.

His eyes finally broke away from Amelia, and feeling as though he'd learned all he could about her by looking at her appearance, he began once again to observe the general area, his eyes jumping from one Exile to the other as he scoured them for anything that would prove important.

Roet's contemptuous glare caught Jikrae's attention, and it took him no time at all to discover that it was directed at Ember. Jikrae knew that this would prove useful, since he could exploit Roet's hatred of Ember in order to procure him as an ally.

Jikrae became determined not to fail in this world as he obviously had in the previous one. Now that he actually existed again, he considered that realm of lifelessness, that limbo-like dreaming state he had been absorbed in to be torture. He knew that if he ever had to face something like that now that he had tasted true reality, he would surely go insane.

Then the Craftsman gave a final, closing speech, hinting that anything was possible for the Exiles if they worked together, which Jikrae certainly took into consideration. He would have to test how capable an alliance of every Exile was, even if he had to find some method of recruiting Ember into that alliance.

He grasped the Amulet inside the box and clasped it carefully around his armored neck before standing up and calling out politely to the one Exile who had intrigued him so much during the meeting.

"Amelia, if I could speak with you for a moment before you leave, please. I require your assistance."

He bowed to her as he had done so often in the past few days, and waited patiently for a response.

As the other Exiles arrived, each one brought forth more of the scars of memory within Dessande'. His eyes flared at some and softened in their glow for others. It was an interesting experience.

At the call of the meeting, Desande' found his seat between Amelia and Jikrae, and sat at the stone table. His position made sense. His Domain was akin to that of his neighbors, and an essential part of both. He gazed around the table and listened as each of the Exiles spoke in turn. Their progress was interesting, but not truly unexpected.

At the words of the Craftsman, of the banishment and the blood that had soaked his world, he sank into memory, the scars on his mind touching his activities for a time.

The blood, the agony... They had abused his Domain and ripped through it, drained it and made it into their tool of war. It was not just Ember, either. They all tore their claws into the deep, forgiving waters of his Domain, and turned it to their will.

Blood had washed out of the rivers and into his oceans, the feel of it seared into his mind forever... Metal and fire trespassed upon his waters and soaked them up, tearing his Domain from him, piece by piece. He had watched as the peoples of each of his brethren grew and warred with one another, tearing at each other's throats like enraged lions.

He had been helpless. Early on, the majority of his people had joined with those of another Domain, and had never returned. His remaining people had built a city full of vitality and power, but it had been destroyed with the first of the many times that the people of other Domains would shatter the surface of the world.

He had felt shock as they broke the surface of the world again and again, their desire for war overpowering their desire for peace. He had felt his creatures die by the millions, both as collateral damage and as the food for armies of unspeakable sizes. He knew he was not the only one that suffered, and not the one feeling the most pain. The pain that he received through empathy while communicating with the throne of Nature had been unbearable near the end, before the Banishment.

It had been a relief, of sorts, the Banishment. It had relieved his unending pain and frustration, and though he knew that it may have been his last chance to hold the throne, he had not despaired. He had felt relieved of the burden of a broken world's fury...

He raised his eyes to look into those of all his fellow Exiles, the colors within his robes calming. "The times of war will never end, and perhaps each in our own way, we will find our ways to it, eventually. War has always been a tool to gain something, even when the world is large and undeveloped. It will not occur for a long time, but it will occur, inevitably. Alliances will form, and battles will take place.

It is only a hope that we will become strong enough to endure and, most importantly of all, wise enough to know when not to fight. There is much growing to do, and much work to be done. There are alliances to form and walls to build. My camp has yet to move long enough to see its progress, but the people are strong and ready to learn."

He gazed around the table, viewing the faces, stern and happy, with a steady, unwavering gaze. "I will not let this world fall as the last." His voice was firm and resolute, and his robes had become quite green, even in the dark shades of the sea. He stopped speaking and looked to see the the reactions of the other Exiles to his words.

Nyx was not entirely sure what prompted her to speak. After all, she had been quite content so far to sit quietly in her seat and watch the conversation pass to and fro across the table, absorbing the words and drawing her own conclusions. The others had scarcely seemed to notice her presence, though that was no surprise. Her slight build and subdued attire made it so easy for her to be overlooked that she had long grown used to being almost invisible.

But the growing disquiet inside her as people spoke of war and alliance and defense, had grown steadily too much to bear. This was surely not the purpose they had been put on this world to serve. And while she knew full well the likelihood that war would come upon them, and acknowledged the necessity of defence, fortification and preparation, she could not shake off the quiet fear that these pre-emptive measures would defeat their own ends by inciting the very thing they sought to hold at bay.

Even now that she had spoken, her voice remained soft, though with a quiet, calm authority behind it. "War or may not be written indelibly in our futures, but suspicion will only serve to hasten its approach. Enmity from a world now gone has no place in this new land. And while I cannot make guarantees for an uncertain future, I know that I at least will strive to do all I can to ensure it is a peaceful one. Everyone present here is one of my brethren, and I cherish the hope that we may yet learn to work together for the betterment of our people." She gave Ember a tentative smile, the words had been meant especially for him.

Amelia listened to the rest of them, it seemed as though the same things were going on inside their own gardens. What surprised her was the fact that some had just come to their gardens. It seemed as though Ember's garden was doing well also. How she knew from that response, she had no idea but smiled none-the-less to him. As she glanced around the table, it seemed as though people only had anger towards Ember.

She looked to the Craftsman as he spoke. It seemed as though he had noticed as well. She kept her smile on her face though. She looked back to Ember as he spoke of how people were planning to attack him already and how he could easily be considered the more dangerous one. She wondered whether or not Ember was slightly annoyed by this. It seemed as though he was enjoying it for the most part.

She silently sighed, which looked more like she was taking a breath, and looked to the box he left. There were amulets inside and for some reason, she found them quite beautiful. Although she wondered what the point of calling the Craftsman would be. If they were supposed to do everything on their own, they wouldn't need him, right?

She looked to Jikrae as he bowed to her and she felt a little uncomfortable. Although, it seemed as though he needed to speak with her and he needed to gain her attention. She was about to respond when she heard others speaking about the world and not letting the planet die again. Although it was a good reason, how they were putting it out was annoying her.

She stood up quickly and slammed her hands down on the table, glaring at them all. Her smile was no more and she was definitely angry. "Stop speaking about war and protecting the planet! All your words, they sound like they've been sugar-coated. How do you know it'll come? People change, humans change. Besides, we're the ones that bring them out or not. All of you have, most likely, created an enemy or two here. Perhaps none at all." She took a deep breath and calmed down slightly more, "The point is, yes protecting this world is important, but it is uncertain whether or not a war will come. Don't speak of protecting if your words sound like this." She glared at the ones who seemed to have already started to think of getting rid of a fellow exile. Less than a moment later, she quickly smiled, leaving no room for them to argue back, "Mkay?"

She jumped out of her seat and took two of the amulets, running over to Ember and smiling at him again, "Here." She said happily, handing out the amulet to take. Although she was sure she might get burned, it would heal in no time.

She hoped that the others understood her words. How they were speaking annoyed her so much. They did sound sugar-coated to her and all she knew was that she hated that. If they wanted to speak of protecting things, than they could. But how they were saying it, it sounded as though it was a threat to Ember somewhat. Saying that they would fight against him. If they were the first to attack in order to get rid of Ember, who they thought to be the one who would bring the world to destruction, they were wrong. If they did that, they would be just as bad as they thought Ember to be.

Dunaldra let her head rest on her right hand as everyone continued speaking. If anyone had any opinions, even the Craftsman, about what she had said, then they did not speak it. It angered her, to an exent, but she decided to let it past. Her attentions were caught by what the Craftsman said about the man named Ember. He had a point, they could all work together and kill the firey man if they so desired, but what was the point? It would only lead to suspicion of others, afriad that they too may prove themselves as a threat to all of the others. And soon, the world would simply end up as it had begun. A barren wasteland with no life in it. They would have destroyed it all between their bitter rivalries and suspicions of one another. Before anyone spoke further, the Craftsman disappeared, leaving a bunch of pendents on the top of his seat.

She looked around at the rest of the group, wondering who would be the first one to speak out about the topic. Dunaldra was surprised, when, the person who was last to the meeting was the first to speak. At first, she though that Desande was trying to redeam himself for being late, but when she listened to his words closely she realized he had a passionate, but true answer. War was ineviatable, but alliances for the purpose of senseless fighting was not the solution. They all were still young, and they neeed to grow, along with their nations. Yes, they needed to protect themselves, but only when their people were ready for such battles. Everything she said, she whole heartedly agreed with.

Dunaldra motioned to speak after this, but another person she admitted she had not noticed throughout the meeting actually spoke out. The woman, her name she believed to be Nyx, had not said anything the entire meeting, which surprised Duna to an extent. However, the woman did not speak out against Desande, but rather agreed with him. She spoke so elequently about how they were all her brethren that it made her heart lift somewhat. Afterwards, Nyx even gave Ember a smile. She, herself, was not sure that she could say anything living up to those two.

Someone else spoke up then, and quite loudly too. Amelia, one of the three most recognized people in the whole council, had slammed her hands against the stone table in front of them and spoke up about, ultimately, what Desande and Nyx had already pointed out. Her quick change in personality throughout her whole long speech was quite surprising, but for all of her words, she made it a bit dramatic in her opinion. Nonetheless, everyone who spoke out had the same idea. It inspired her enough to stand up and say something.

"Everyone who has spoken is right. At least, in my opinion." Dunaldra began, too late for her to just sit back down and stay quite. "After all, where is suspicion going to lead us? Just back to where this whole world started. War, in the future, will be inevitable, true. But, rather than sit here and bicker, accusing people of who will start one first, let us go back to our people and prepare for it's coming. And that is what I'll do when this meeting is done." When she finished, she crossed across the room over to the seat of the Craftsman and leaned down into the seat, picking up two amulets like Amelia had. However, instead of going to Ember, she instead went to Dessande and Nyx, placing them in front of the two people who had first spoken out. Then, she went back and grabbed her own.

Finally she said, "And I, too, hope for the day when we all can work together to recreate this world."

Shizuka looked at each of the Exiles in turn, noting slight changes in their appearance. The muse found it interesting that their looks barely changed, if they did; it was as if their subconscious, even in a new world, knew exactly what they should look like. She recognized them all, for her search for her own haven had given her a clear view of all the others. But it was only until they stood in front of her that she realized their names. There stood Jikrae, Sir Climate, formalities and all; Roat, of Birth, naïve in every sense; Nature’s Amelia, child-like and playful; Ember, literally burning with hate; Nyx, a little unattached; Toucan, always tinkering with something or the other; Dunaldra, in all her shimmering beauty; Dessandre, reserved but firm; and Zephyr, the oddball. She also noticed that there were quite a few absent, like The White Lady, for instance. But even as theses thoughts came to her, they disappeared, leaving her with only names and a blank slate under each of them.

In silence, she listened to their reports, her hands resting on her lap, a smile never leaving her face. She relaxed into her chair, positively ruining her posture. Her alert, sky blue eyes shifted from one to the other, drinking in their reactions. She found most to look very, very prejudiced against Ember, rather unfairly and without true merit. Their hate for him only proved how much power Ember truly had. As they filed their reports, she squirmed in her chair, for she didn’t even know what her people looked like. Shizuka refused to reveal the state of their affairs, for the simple safety of her people.

She could not help but be curious of the previous world, wanting to find out all about it. But the sound of torture did not appeal to her at all, and she supposed that that issue would have to rest for the moment. How she wanted to know about their past mistakes, so they wouldn’t repeat them again!

Her smile twitched and faltered at the talk of war, and she was especially annoyed by the hateful glances towards Ember. It frustrated her, that the Craftsman should waste his breath on the reason behind their past failures, only for them to return to talk of fighting and battlements and walls. All of them had plenty of prejudice and gall, especially, she felt, those that stretched out invitations of alliances, for they could only lead to trouble this early in the world’s making. And, although she admired Amelia for stretching a hand to Ember and Dunaldra, Dessandre, and Nyx for their honorable speeches against War-Bickering and for pacifism, she could not help but feel that they missed the point.

“All of you are wrong.”

For the first time since she had been here, Shizuka spoke. Her voice was melodious, akin of one to is about to trill, and although her words were sharp, her tone was warm. Her eyes flashed a teal confidence over all of them, her lips curved in a slight smile. She did not stand, nor did she correct her posture.

“All of you are wrong, because you center on war. War is inevitable, and even prosperous for our people, to a degree. But war and the prevention of war are not the goals of the Exiles, or so I think. It is the survival and ultimate prosperity of our people, in the hopes that they can one day make decisions in society’s favor without our help. Helping each other and forming alliances is all well and good, but doing so in the pretext of ‘in the event of a war’ is like declaring it already upon us. The Craftsman said that humans may march to war without our consent. I want to let them have the mindset, the independence to do such a thing, but on the realm of reason. We should center on the economy of our people and developing their reasoning skills for now, and not on preparing for war - for either attacking or defending from it.

“As for peace, well, it is folly to hope that it will last indefinitely, for humans are naturally self-interested and prone to battle. We can only hope to eliminate the more trivial, ideological, and selfish conflicts. The key is neither good natured diplomacy nor self-righteousness, but tolerance and education.”

Shizuka exhaled slightly, recognizing that on the way here, she was also worried about other Exiles assaulting her Haven. She was glad to say her goals out loud, for hopefully she would remember them better, even in times of distress. Her words surprised herself immensely, normally one for diplomacy and good feelings on all sides. No doubt that her comments would prove to taint most of their first impressions of her.

Mythee inclined her head at the Craftsman before he dissappeared. Whatever that one had to say to require a personal meeting must be important. She then remained silent and still in her seat, listening to the conversation with crossed arms. She had to smile at Amelia's sudden outburst. That elf-like girl had a kind heart as well.

She admired Shizuka's words and absorbed them well. Wisdom, was she? She was truly suited to her domain. Unarguable values, that Mythee would have liked to agree to openly, but she did not wish to comment on topics of war before the time has come, even if she had said close to nothing the whole meeting. It was too bad that nobody seemed to think of other important, and more immediate subjects, like trade.

She decided to speak before leaving, after all. She did not wish for her people to starve.
"Forgive my interruption." She addressed the assembled Exiles, calm but full of intention. "But as you all know, our Gardens are scattered on the surface of this planet, and differences of climate and terrain will make it so that different materials- clay, metal, wood- and different livestocks, are available to each of us. But our humans will be unable to develop if their diet is restricted to their area, and thus unbalanced. Growth of settlements depend also on the available tools and materials. The only solution to this is trade, which all of us will have to participate in. After we have supplied our people with warm homes, clothes and a minimal supply of food, we must establish a system of trade routes. I have observed that my area will soon be heavily forested, but we will probably face harsh winters as well. Wood I can supply to many of you- but livestock and grain for the cold seasons shall be lacking." She paused, looking at the face of each in turn, to make sure they understood.
"Now then." She said. "Shall we speak of exchange?"

Was this it? Was battle all they had in their heads? It was of course an important question but this was the first time they had gathered and they were expecting a grand battle as soon as they stepped down into the world again. Around the table the tension rose and some of them spoke of a naïve idea of peaceful land where no one would be harmed. It was all bullshit.

If they did manage to avoid war with the other there would probably become fighting among the followers. If there were no bigger battles the harsh climate would probably take down these humans.

Zephyr got of her chair and collected one of the amulets from the Craftsman’s box. It was a nice little trinket that she slipped over her head.
There was much to be learned from the other exiles. Most of them wore clothes. That would be valuable to know how to make them. Then her people would not need to freeze.

Mythee spoke about trading. That was an option that was appealing to the green creature. But as for now all she wanted was to trade knowledge. If her people were not able to harness their own land before trying to get things from others they would learn nothing.
“Your words are wise Mythee. I would like to make a trade with you right now.” Her voice was shrill but clear. Zephyr could not really understand why she knew the woman’s name.
Zephyr skipped around the table and stood next to the tall woman.
Without a word she grabbed Mythee’s cloak and held it up to the light. “Like this! I wear no such things. I have no knowledge on how to make this.” She let go of the cloth and let it fall down. “Do you want anything from me in exchange of this knowledge?

If Ember had lips with which to smile, he would have been doing so most fully. They talked of war, against it and for it, the table divided by the mere mention of it. He could feel the hate from many of them, see them as if they were waves on the beach. He bathed in it, let it soak in and fuel his inner fire. He believed that some of them did not fully understand the sheer magnitude of both his domains. The use of fire is obvious, easily counterable... but wielding hate was much different. Hate led things on to heinous deeds, and although he could control none of the Exile's hate personally he could sow it amongst their people most easily. Riots, murder, carnage, crime, they all had basis in hate. The most heinous acts of violence cannot be committed without large quantities of pure unadulterated hatred. For now he was very limited in what he could do directly to their countries, but there would come a time when he could cause an opposing mass of men to suddenly feel the cold impulse to murder their comrades.
It would be a glorious thing when it came.

Ember merely sat, never moving, as they talked. His eyes looked straight ahead as they had during the entire council. He could have merely left, gone back to his domain and let the Exile's talk of peace and war in private... but it really was quite entertaining.
Until some of the Exiles strangely began talking of him as a normal thing, a changed being that they had no proof of his intentions. The woman Nyx seemed to smile at him and the strange girl Amelia went so far as to offer him an amulet. The audacity of such things, of reaching out to him so, it was staggering. He hated them with all his might, hated them as he had never hated anything before.
Yet the hate was not lasting. It faded, even though he tried with all his might to keep it kindled. He found himself unable to overcome their strange waves of emotion, so unlike the hatred he thrived upon.

Ember took from the girl Amelia the amulet, allowing his flames not to burn even though a large part of him wished to make her fingers blister. In his left hand, he clasped the amulet and plunged the hand into the middle of his flames. The arm went in up nearly up to the elbow, seeming like it should come out the other side though it did no such thing. When he removed his charred arm from the flames of his body it now held no amulet. Then he merely sat as he had all along, making no comment towards the subjects brought up. His banshee voice, wavering and wailing, would do no good to help any lies he might attempt to put forth and for the most part he didn't care if they wished war upon or not.

It didn't matter at all what they wished, what their beliefs were. Jikrae, Roet, those who's hateful radiations were strongest to the attuned Ember, would find their lands blazing in a firestorm, find themselves burnt to a crisp... and find their beloved people shedding one another's blood. The future of the Earth under Ember's logic, now bolstered by some of the sentiment he felt at this first council, would be lands of blowing ash and rivers of lava.

Devath
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Devath
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 5:15 pm

History of the Exiles Page Nine

Amelia smiled when Ember took the amulet and managed not to burn her. She still didn't see why most of them disliked him. She looked over as they continued the talk of war and what not and she was slowly loosing interest. Whatever had been there before to make her speak up like that was now gone. She sighed, half listening. Although their views on what everyone had said were different, she guessed that they all believed the same thing.

Amelia titled her head at him, starring for a moment before remembering Jikrae's words. He wanted to speak with her and she had been ignoring him. "Well, then. I hope we'll see each other again. I might stop by from time to time if you don't mind." She turned on her heel and headed over to Jikrae before stopping and looking back at Ember with a smile and a wave, "Bye." She continued on to where Jikrae was and stopped in front of him.

"I'm sorry for being rude earlier." She smiled sheepishly. "You wanted to see me about something before I left?" She starred at him for a moment before remembering something also, "Oh! And please don't bow like that to me. It really makes me feel... uncomfortable. Friends don't bow to friends."

Dunaldra's actions caught her pleasantly by surprise, and Nyx found herself blinking at the ornate pendant for a few moments before she finally extended her hand to pick it up. The metal felt cool against her fingers as she smiled faintly at the retreating woman's back. She would have to remember to thank her later.

The debate about the exigency of war, she noted with a slight sigh, continued even after what she had had to say. It seemed her words had been passed over as easily as her presence often was. Shizuka's speech caused her some mild irritation, for what the woman had to say about working towards the betterment of their people rather than focusing on war, was more or less a repetition of what she herself had said. Still, she was not one to let small things rouse her ire, and the woman had succeeded in expressing the same idea with rather more success and force, so she let it pass.

Mythee's words evoked more interest. She could not deny that the question of availability of materials was one that had caused her some worry; not to mention that trade could only help strengthen the bonds between the Exiles.

Ave sat grinning throughout the entire argument. Her question to the Craftsman had seemed to bring up an entire conversation. While the idea of war troubled her, the exiles squabbling simply made her laugh. She continued to sit down as people continued to speak up, her legs swinging back and forth under the table and her head bobbing slightly. Everyone seemed much too entirely focused on managing their people. Humans would build their own civilization, with or without the exiles. They were there to help shift those civilizations certain ways. But she didn’t speak up, it would not benefit anyone. It seemed, Ave feeling a sense of déjà vu, that most people did not pay attention when she spoke up.

When the conversation started repeating itself, Ave deemed it time to leave. She had no wish to drag herself into this; it would only spoil her plans of neutrality. She, unlike most of the exiles who had already taken a clear side, would not be on either side. Until she decided who would most benefit, she would stay on the side lines. She stood up and picked up an amulet. Clearing of the Craftsman’s designs, she curled it around her arm for now, so that the head of it rested in her palm. Giving the exiles a last glance, she made a pop, and transformed into her snakelike beast. She sprang into the air, circling for a moment and staring at the small figures of the exiles. Then, with a small cry, she set off down the mountain and continued on towards her domain.

Roet sat as most of the Exiles went and got the amulets. He wanted to observe who seemed to be on good terms with who. He was somewhat worried that Amelia seemed to take a liking to Ember, but as he didn't return the feeling he put it to the back of his mind.

He stood up and grabbed in of the amulets. He turned it over in his hand, then put it around his neck. Roet turned around, then stopped as he saw Amelia and Jikrae talking. He looked around at the other Exiles. All seemed to be doing something or other... but surely there was someone to talk to...

Roet looked around and saw Mythee. He stepped up to her, paused, then took half a step back. Her being seven inches taller than him made her slightly imposing. He raised a hand to his heart and said in a low voice, "Hail, Mythee." He dropped his hand back down, "How's it goin'?"

The Librarian regarded the Acolyte of light with some distaste as he strode into his library. He doubted the man had any intention of making use of the vast stores of knowledge. So the librarian merely continued writing. His many arms twitched away over the many volumes. They only halted when the familiar and intrusive voice of the craftsman thundered throughout his library. He rolled his dewey eyes up at the window.

"Honestly." He librarian muttered, his many chins jiggling.

He noticed that the Acolyte had not yet made his move. He laughed. His laughter started in the back of his throat as a low chuckle and rose gradually into a hideously distorted shriek that caused his whole body to gyrate unpleasantly. The arms which sprung out of his body like growths at random places all stopped their movements, twitching spasmodically as the Librarian tried to regain his composure.

"You're luck, Oh wise and powerful Acolyte of Light." The Librarian mocked. "You get to see the true craftsman. You'll be the first in a very long time." He continued his mocking laughter.

There was a thunderous boom at the massive door. The Acolyte of Light took a step backwards, eying the door cautiously. The Librarian almost took pity on the man, at what was about to happen to him. But he could not interfere with the executioner. He merely tried to squeeze himself into his desk and make himself as small as possible.

There was another thunderous boom, and the doors creaked slowly as they were pushed inwards.

The figure that was silhouetted in the doorway this time was a very different being than the craftsman. The regal statuesque poise of the craftsman was replaced by a hulking bloodthirstiness. The figure was nude, the skin stretched tightly across the the tall skeletal frame was torn and marred on almost every surface. The figure, though emaciated to the point of looking skeletal, stood over ten feet tall. Its neck was thrust forward, clad in a full faced and featureless mask that wrapped around its entire head. It's head twitched violently, as if trying to escape from the steel confines of it's cage. The only opening in the mask was a small group of holes near the bottom, where the chin would be. Blood, black as pitch, flowed from these holes at a slow and constant rate. Dribbling down the mask and the hollow chest.

It's breath was a ragged wheeze that spoke of constant pain and suffering. It just stood there, it's body wreaked by spasms, it's arms or legs would occasionally become contorted for a moment before returning to their rightful place.

The Acolyte's eyes could not stop staring at the ground below this thing's feet, though. The very earth churned violently, he could see the black chains swimming through the stone at this thing's feet like serpents through the water. Occasionally, one of these demonic chains would rear it's 'head' a spiky barb or hook, and plant itself into the creature's legs s that the chain wound its way under the skin and muscle of the tortured creature's legs.

Then it screamed. A hollow pained sound that brought tears to the Librarian's eyes as he watched it move. Tearing its own legs apart to free itself from the chains it charged at the Acolyte. The chains always in pursuit, fighting to pull Karon back under the ground.

Karon was on top of the acolyte. His two spidery arms tossed the Acolyte into the air, the black chains, tipped with all manner of cruel weaponry, followed. They arced and honed in on the vulnerable body with a mind of their own, digging themselves into the yielding flesh. It was like watching a feeding frenzy. The body was torn limb from limb as the chains dug into him and pulled in separate directions. The acolyte barely had time to scream before he fell back to the wooden floor of the library. He was little more than a pile of meat.

A tear fell from the corner of the Librarian's eye as he stared at the hunched back of the monster. The metal vertebrae jut out violently from between the angular shoulder blades, the whole body heaved with that recognizable ragged gasp. Wordlessly, Karon turned and walked back out of the library. A lantern that had not been there before was clutched in the inhuman fingers of its left hand. The black iron lantern glowed with a dull white light.

The Librarian recognized the artifact, and his eyes widened in horror. He didn't even get a chance for a second look. The chains that had destroyed the acolyte began to more fervently dig into Karon, dragging the miserable creature below the wooden floor of the library.

The Librarian exhaled, composed himself, and continued writing.
(Binerexis has been expelled from the roleplay)

Still there were speeches being uttered by the members of the Stone Council, speaking even more about War. Jikrae admitted that many of them were right, but he noticed the same problem that Ember did: The subject of War was dividing the Council. Some people trying to prepare, and others telling them not to prepare because it would only bring about that which the Exiles hoped to avoid.

Jikrae was not going to listen to any argument he heard. Ember was close to his home, and the militaristic precision which his people had demonstrated in the short few minutes that Jikrae had seen them had been almost frightening. He knew that Ember was going to start a War against at least one other Kingdom, and Jikrae knew that he would be prepared to defend against the wretched thing.

Jikrae gaped when Amelia seemed to temporarily pacify Ember, though. It was invisible below the purple mask, but...it seemed unreal. Ember actually had a visible, exploitable weakness. And he had just given it away. This pretentious, self-absorbed, malevolent warmongering Exile had just openly exhibited perhaps one of the few weaknesses he had. Jikrae's hanging jaw formed itself into a sly smile. He had an advantage, now, and if Ember ever started a War against him, he'd use it.

Amelia then proceeded to turn back to Jikrae. After listening to her, Jikrae did as he had done so many other times recently: He churned out an answer automatically, without really knowing what he meant.

"Friends might not bow to friends, but one being must always show respect to his Equals. I am no better than you, and you are no better than me. I was merely acknowledging that.

"It really is a mundane task that I have, and I apologize sincerely for that. However, you spoke of growing plants during the meeting and I seem to have made a drastic mistake in killing a particularly important flower in my Kingdom. I saw no others like it, even after searching the area thoroughly. It is a plant called Foxglove, and it is one that I would like to have quite a few more of.

"I have little that I can give you in return now, but my Kingdom has a great variety of flora that you may take back to your Garden if you wish. I would be indebted to you if you could just help me out in this one small task..."

Jikrae knew he was taking a risk. His voice sounded borderline desperate, just as he had wanted it to, but if Amelia refused, it would likely mean that he would lose a lot of reputation among the other Exiles for requesting assistance for something so small and seemingly meaningless.

Furthermore, Foxglove was an extremely poisonous plant, and Jikrae was absolutely certain that Amelia would know that. He really did respect the flower, but if Amelia figured out why he liked it so much, she might refuse simply because of her moral values.

Amelia listened to Jikrae's response and she smiled, bowing in response. That was a perfectly good reason as to, but this would be the only time she ever did bow to another being. She would not do it again, no matter the consequence. Although his response did sound as though it was practiced. In any case, she dismissed that and stood straight again.

She crossed her arms and thought about his request. "Foxglove eh? Hmmm...." She closed her eyes and titled her head to one side, continuing to think about the plant until remembering what it looked like. Why would he need a plant like that? Isn't it supposed to be dangerous? If his people got a hold of it.... She sighed and opened her eyes, nodding to him. "Yeah, I can help you with that. Although you'll have to tell me how many you want."

She decided that she didn't really need to know the reason behind it. As long as he maintained the flower, she didn't really care. Out of it she would probably get some flowers that had special properties of their own, although she could just grow them, giving them to her people to maintain by themselves would be a good thing to do. As well, the flowers he would probably give her might only grow in that area. To have them brought over to her own, that could possibly mean more variety.

Although, even after thinking about that, she honestly wanted to know his reason for it. If the flower was harvested in a certain way, it would be more than mildly dangerous. She hoped that he wasn't planning on using its properties for weapon purposes.

Mythee smiled at the peculiar Zephyr and answered. "I would be delighted to trade with you, but be this knowledge of much importance, it is commonplace. I am willing to share it with you after the meeting- if you are willing to spend a moment to visit my garden, where my people will make it before your eyes."

She was surprised at Roet's late greeting, but answered in kind. "Hail, Roet. A pleasure to see you again, although I do not remember our last meeting." She meant it as a joke. "As for your question, not much has happened since I have arrived. I find this meeting to be a good place to start settling agreements upon trade routes, which we will be needing soon. Do you have anything to propose?"

Meanwhile she eyed Jikrae knowingly. It was to be expected- such things could be early needed as well. But when population is so scarce, was it wise to cultivate dangerous things? Accidents could happen. And Amelia was careless... unknowingly she had betrayed herself already. The poor girl was setting herself up to become prey to many tragedies and dissapointments.

"Actually," Roet stated, looking up at Mythee, "My people have become increasingly skilled in making spears. Perfect for hunting, I have one right here." he raised the spear, the point coming up at 5'6, six inches above Roet, "They're very handy." He shrugged, "The immediate area of my garden was a bit scarce. it's getting better, but it's still pretty rough. There's not much else... We do what we can..."

She looked to the other’s reactions to her words, and as she had guessed, most appeared irritated or simply bored of being lectured. Concern for their views of her, however, was the last thing on her mind. We don’t have to like each other to work together, she shrugged. Inwardly, Shizuka extended apologies to both Nyx and Dunaldra, for she knew that a good portion of her points were already mentioned by the both of them. She made a mental note to exchange rhetoric with Nyx, for she seemed to have a natural talent for eloquent speech. But that would come later, at a time of poetry and literature.

Now she returned to matters at hand. Listening to Mythee’s words with satisfaction, Shizuka nodded her consent. Trading and bartering were essential to all of their survivals. Lamenting that she had nothing to offer - she didn’t know what she could offer - she stood and retrieved an amulet for herself. Her calm gaze scanned the room, noting that most of the Council had broken up into smaller groups. She felt, although only slightly, tension leave the area slowly. For a moment more, she observed her peers. Amelia and Ember’s little interaction was the most interesting by far, and a smirk appeared on her face. She would keep an eye on those two, she decided. Jikrae caused a bit more worry. From her “exhibitions” she knew that his Garden was the closet to Ember’s. From among everyone else, she knew this circumstance might cause more trouble. But it was not her place to meddle.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the etchings on a chair fade away. Shock did not affect her; she had been expecting it the past day or so. Although all the others looked busy during her search phase, she could not help but notice inactivity on the Acolyte’s part. With a shudder, however, she knew that The Craftsman might set his sights on her next, and she stepped toward the cliffs.

The war talk had stopped, so Shizuka thought it best that she left. She had lots of work ahead of her at her Haven. With silent steps, her bare feet took her to the edge of the cliff. To the present Exiles, she announced, “Well, I’ll take my leave. I have nothing to offer yet in the matters of trade. And I certainly would not like to be the next one Damned. If I find anything pertinent to any of you, you’re sure to hear from me.” With that, she jumped off the mountain. A few seconds later, a small blue dragon rose up into the sky, heading east.

"Ah, is that so?" Mythee said, pondering. "Yes, spears are good to have, but they are simple to make... perhaps, if the hunting around your garden becomes a trade, exchange will be possible." Noticing that most were taking their leave, Mythee decided it was time for her as well. In the end, it was worth enough just to mention the prospect of trade and routes- everyone would keep it in mind and eventually get to specializing, preparing, and building.

"I believe that this is sufficient, for now. Most of us know little of what we have, or will have, so any further conversation on this topic will be mere speculation. It was good to see you all- I shall now take my leave. Good luck with your respective charges, and may your people prosper well."

The armored Exile left for the Library, collecting her amulet on the way out, her golden hair shining briefly in reflected light.

The Library was her preferred meeting place. She wished to study the books it contained, knowing that the knowledge they carry would aid her upon her return to the Garden she had arrived in. When she came to the dimly lit place, a feeling of foreboding overcame her- she glanced for a moment towards the gory abbheration that lurked in the area, and an expression of sudden shock and horror replaced the usual calm of her face as she instinctively rested a hand on her sword's hilt. "Wh-what is this?!" She asked, the sudden realisation- and certainty- that someone, an Exile, like her and those others at the meeting- has just been murdered by that thing, here.

Jikrae did not notice Mythee's stare, for he was too busy watching Amelia with two calculating eyes, gauging her reaction to his almost-innocuous request. In truth, Jikrae had no intention of weaponizing the flower. He might give a sprig to Maikau for use in poisonings, but Maikau was probably not even going to be able to commit one assassination before his lifetime ran out.

"Well, if it's possible, I would like a small Garden. Even resurrecting the single specimen I killed earlier would be a gift. When you're ready, I could lead you to my Kingdom."

Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 5:22 pm

History of the Exiles Page Ten

"A small garden?" She said, rather surprised. She hadn't expected that much. And in one place as well. She sighed and quickly smiled, "Alright then, I can help with that. Although I'm not too sure I can bring back what is dead." She looked around the council, noticing other's leaving. With a quick smile and wave to Ember and Roet, she looked back to Jikrae. "I'm pretty much ready now, unless of course anyone else wants to discuss something with me."

As the Council seemed to be slowly dispersing, Nyx rose gracefully to her feet as well, twitching her robes aside. She had already slipped her hands under her hood and looped the pendant around her neck; the comforting weight of the ornate hand and the gem it grasped now rested against her breast.

She gaves smiles of farewell to those who were leaving, including Ember, but wasn't quite ready to depart herself, yet. There was still one thing she had to do, and with that in mind, she crossed over to Dunaldra.

She inclined her head to the Exile as she reached her, showing her respect. "I have yet to thank you," she said softly. "For your words, and for this." She touched a finger to the pendant.

Dunaldra nearly sighed as she watched what continued to happen in the meeting. At first, she was angered by Sizuka's words, tell them they were wrong and basically repeated exactly what the three of them had stated together. However, the desert maiden held herself back from making any kind of outburst in response. After all, if she said something wrong, she'd gain enemies so early on. Instead, she stayed where she was and silently observed what others did.

However, conversations led away from the war topic to simply making trades with one another. Dunaldra could not participate in the dealings, though, since she had nothing to offer to anyone. Sure, she had some exotic fruits growing in her oasis, but that was all that she could offer. And, as far as she assumed, everyone was more interested in foliage and clothing for their people. Thus, Duna was left with having to find her own method of creating clothing. As conversations continued on in the same manner, while people one by one began to leave, and she herself was tempted to leave.

Dunaldra even motioned to leave, when Nyx had actually come up to her and spoke to her. She was slightly surprised when she just wanted to thank her for what she did early, and she could not help but smile. She had been, after all, looked down upon unlike a few individuals, so her recognition was greatly appreciated. Duna beamed as she replied, "Thank you. However, I should thank you for inspiring me. After all, I may be bold at times, but there are times when even I am not sure whether I should speak up or not."

Dessande' gazed at the amulet in his hand for a short time, then pulled it within his robe, and his hand came out again, without the amulet. He listened at the talk of trade and the cooperation that must occur between them. He agreed trade must occur, and he had one of the most important things to offer, as well.

On the concept of war, however, they do not seem to understand. It was not one of us that began the destruction of the world... By the time we were banished, none of us had control over the humans. It was the work of the humans, and we were banished because of our failure to stop them, simply put. We truly were not fit for our thrones. I hope to keep the humans in check this time, but I cannot guarantee it. Even at this early stage, they have an inordinate amount of free will.

He watched as the first Exiles began to leave, and followed Mythee as she left for her Garden. The others he wished to speak with, he could find later, but he must speak with this one, the one who wanted to begin the trade network.

"Mythee, may I have a word?" Dessande spoke as he moved alongside her in a barely corporeal form made of gases. "I wish to speak of the trade routes that can be formed. With that, I can help."

"Yes?" Mythee answered, stopping in her tracks. She turned towards Dessande with an interested look. She liked it that this man possessed initiative on this matter- the others seemed too distracted by the prospect of returning to their gardens and building defenses. Surely it was unimportant to start so early, since Ember was stil weak as they and ever with his advance, he was outnumbered and overpowered by far. He should know that at this time, attack would be most unwise. For now there was nothing to fear.

"And how would that be?" She asked, eager to hear. She hoped that their Gardens were near each other, since he seemed like a potentially good partner in trade.

"Perhaps, but 'twas well spoken nonetheless." Nyx smiled faintly. "If our brethren can come in time to realize the same point of view, we need not worry for the future." She turned her gaze out over the edge of the courtyard and the forbidding mountains for a moment, before returning it to Dunaldra. Thoughts of her people were preying on her. No doubt, they were awaiting her return, waiting for her to reassume guiding them once more. These thoughts lurked at the back of her mind, gently pressing her to start wending her way back.

She bowed her head to Dunaldra once more. "I must take my leave now, for my people await me. Know that I stand by my earlier words, and believe that setting aside animosity in favour of working together, will see us all achieving things that we can only...dream of." This last part had been addressed to all the still-remaining exiles, her tone soft but firm.

With one last smile at her brethren, she dissolved into wraith-like mist and shifted into her small bird form once more, and flapping her wings, soared over the courtyard before crossing it and setting out over the mountains once more.

Toucan had sat on the edges of the meeting, fidgeting with a small ribbing of metal in the structure of the building... the way it was crafted distracted her greatly-- the strain was all wrong and it could be twisted just a few degrees to give so much more support, but it seemed intentionally wrong-- the craftsman would not permit faulty structure in such a place.

Trying to figure out the intent of the inefficiency unfortunately occupied Toucan's one-track mind. She puzzled and pondered, occasionally tweaking the metal (but always, of course, replacing it back to its original position), before turning reluctantly back to the meeting, concluding that for the time being it was the work of some physics greater than her cognizance spanned. She would have to ask the craftsman later...

Toucan listened in a relaxed, detached way to the information presented. Her brooding nature kept overshadowing any earnestness with which she tried to absorb the words spoken-- past lives, other places-- it all fell into the fog of her mind, feeble and distracted without its physics and mechanics. She listened equally to the questions of the other exiles, having none herself at the moment.

Generally shy and withdrawn around people she was not overly familiar with, Toucan felt unable to interact much during the meeting and afterward... she hoped the craftsman would come back later so they could speak, but she didn't get her hopes up. Instead she turned a bit curiously to the other exiles, but stayed behind as they meandered off into their individual groups.

Ember, full of wrath and hate, struck her as generally unpleasant to be around, but not worth the violence of which others spoke. No need for violence, only problems, problems, and more problems to solve...

Toucan stepped up after all had deserted the circle and took her own amulet, inclining her head slightly to put the heavy chain around the childishly thin neck. The amulet nestled safely between the folds of the collar of her white linen shirt, and she touched it delicately with the pad of one finger.

Slowly turning around, Toucan took in the view of the desert with slightly squinted eyes, sighing quietly to herself in the silence of the circle.

Roet stepped towards Amelia, "Actually, since our gardens are all in the smae general area, why not travel together? Also," He adressed every Exile, "I extend a hand of friendship to anyone willing. If you need help, I may be able to point you in the right direction." Yeah, don't sound cocky there, Roet. He raised a hand to the other Exiles and waited for Amelia and Jikrae to be done talking, then he would leave....

Ember sat as he had during the entire council, despising each Exile as they talked of their own feeble things. Trade was to be hated, despised. The People of the Fire would depend solely upon their own strength, accepting goods from others would be an insult to them. Though some tried their best to give him a fair view, he cared not. Their lands would burn when the time of holocaust came, all of them. This council had done little to help Ember, perhaps even hurt him, but it was all minor in the grand scheme of things. There would be other councils, and he planned to not speak a word at any one of them. They would decide for themselves, some would choose to harness their hatred and prepare defenses(meager defenses that Ember would crush like so many twigs), others would choose to give him a second chance and allow Ember the opportunity to redeem himself.

The latter group would be unpleasantly surprised.

Ember grew bored of the dieing talk of trades and agreements, it concerned him not at all. And so, for the first time during the entire council, Ember moved.
With a slow methodical, mechanical, movement he forced his great flaming body from the chair. Several scatterings of ash were left behind on the darkened chair, the indents at the ends of the armrests clearly visible. He felt renewed, full of ideas again. Clearly these Exiles were too weak to make the first move against him, especially so early, and so they were in truth already doomed. War now would be chaotic, barbaric, clumsy... but it was their only real chance for what lay ahead. Ember would find ways, experiment with ideas, compound theories, in order to become so powerful that the Craftsman himself would envy. He had no proof that such a thing was possible, but where there's a will there's a way.

He left the council courtyard then, descending into the desert and plodding his methodical way back to his domain. He began to think of what the craftsman had said then, the bits of history about the old world. Ember decided randomly that he would not destroy the council courtyard. For those limited few Exiles he kept alive, that courtyard would be their prison. Chained to it, perhaps. It would be a reminder of the folly of the others, their chairs forever emptied at that grand table. It would be a remarkable time, and Ember cared not at all for the promised consequences. Torture mattered not to him, he is forever tormented and tortured while he lived and so he feared nothing that some other lesser being(Ember didn't entertain the notion of a greater being) could do to him.

The desert gave way in time to the savanna that was the home of Ember's people. It was a flat plain, few trees and many patches of tall grass breaking up the monotony. It was a harsh place that changed rapidly with the seasons, so like to the one who ruled over it. His people would grow strong from it, their skin tanned and tough from the sun's unyielding rays. Already they darkened, nearing the color of Ember's own charred skin. Feline predators prowled the grasses and mammoth beasts with tusks, greyish hairless hide and mighty trunks roamed about in groups. His people kept to their own, working in groups on the tasks assigned to them.

Ember looked upon his people, noticing that small mud huts were being built in place of the tents. This surprised him not at all, their own desire to better themselves over the hated outsiders would not allow themselves to slack in their duties even while their master was away. Ember merely stood and watched as they worked, the people not questioning his reason for going away. They just glanced towards him and were visually relieved by the sight of him, feeling safer by his mere presence. So fooled were they into believing all peoples of the world were out to get them that they clung to the mighty Ember as their unfeeling guardian.
This land, Ember decided for little reason whatsoever, will be called Firebrand.

The people of Eora's garden busily hustled about their menial tasks, Eora stood slightly apart, watching them all silently as they went about their business. Her eyes alternated between a sort of wild and hyper-focused awareness to a dreamy haze as she stared at the sky.

During one of her latter sessions her eyes happened to wander on the desert Horizon to the West. She couldn't help but notice something moving in the distance.

It walked slowly. Well, it didn't so much walk, it was closer to swaying back and forth. Every few seconds she saw one of it's arms fly awkwardly to the side as it lost control of certain muscles and fought to regain itself.

She looked onward with a mad smile. She had ignored the bell. Her smile never left her face even as she drew the longsword that was strapped to her back. The moment that the sun reflected off the blade the air echoed with a warm laugh. "That wasn't made by me." The voice stated so quietly that it could have been the wind. In another moment the Craftsman's Whisper was gone.

Eora strode out to meet the approaching figure, some of the people followed suit, brandishing stone hatchets or spears somewhat awkwardly.

She was close enough now to hear it. It's wheezing rattled breath forced itself from the small holes at the bottom of the mask, along with the small sprays of black blood. The sound of metal links clacking slowly together sounded as well, along with the rippling, tearing sound of flesh being forced apart by invading metal as the chains worked their way up into the ruined flesh, permitting him to walk the ground for now but never relenting in their torment.

"Pitiful." Eora muttered under her breath.

Karon's scream rattled from his torn lungs and cut the air. The sand churned as dozens of blackened chains swam through it towards their newest prey. Eora advanced on the creature, leaping into the air just before the first chain coiled out underneath her, lashing upwards to try and grab her. She landed on solid ground, the horrendous clacking of metal followed her even as she ran lightly over the sand towards the hunched beast.

She felt something cold slide into her calf. Pain unlike anything she had ever known tore her body as the hook that was looped through her flesh began to pull her down, down below the sand.

She screamed and tore her leg from its grasp, along with much of her lower leg. Somehow, she kept running three more steps before another one caught her in the same leg. A hook embedded itself below her collar bone and tugged backwards. There was a cold flash in her center.

Horrified, she gazed down at the barbed spike that emerged from the front of her ribcage just under her breasts. She tried to make a sound, but no words would flow from her mouth anymore. Only blood. She could only manage a gasp as she was pulled onto her back.

She didn't cry in pain. She refused to give him the satisfaction as she felt chains forcing their way into her flesh and pulling her below the sand. Her last look was one of defiance as she disappeared beneath the sand. Her people could only stare in horror.

Karon's chains were limp for a few moments. The tears in his flesh were already beginning to heal as he began hoisting the chains back towards him, pulling them from beneath the sand until he held a fistful of various weaponry in his hands. Dangling like a grim metal bouquet from his clenched fist. He dropped them all at his feet, they lay still for a moment before resuming their predatory swim around Karon's bare, bandaged feet.

The one chain that he held was the first hook that had dug itself into Eora's flesh. Only instead of a ruined body a blackened iron lantern dangled off the edge of it. A dull white glow emanated from inside.

The men and women stared quietly at the monster while it turned and loped away. The lantern was slung casually over its shoulder as it trudged away, sinking deeper and deeper into the sand as it did so. Karon was all but gone...

When a wooden spear embedded itself into his back. Karon stopped, the chains coiled themselves around the spear, pulling it from him and tearing it to splinters in seconds as Karon turned to see the offender. The blank metal visage regarded the offender. A young girl with tears in her eyes and her fists clenched, shaking violently.

A single chain vaulted itself from the sand. The black, serrated sword blade on the end of it pointed with authority at the young girl's throat. She regarded the blade as Eora had. Without fear. The people dove forward to help, one of them was faster than the others. He wore a brown leather coat and wore a wide brimmed hat that covered his silvery hair. Drawn into a single large braid with iron ringlets in it.

There was a loud clash of metal on metal. The swordpoint rebounded as if it had hit a wall of solid metal, bouncing off course. The swordpoint cracked apart, leaving only a bare chain.

The craftsman stood silently. His palm stretched towards Karon. His emotionless steel eyes regarded the skeletal monstrosity with authority.

Karon disappeared below the sand.

The Craftsman was gone in the wind.
(SpareMeTheSanity has been expelled from the roleplay)

Zephyr watched as the exiles began to scatter. She followed Mythee even when she was stopped by those who wanted to talk to her.
Things had been learned from this council. What they sought after and what they wanted to prevent. There was talk about schemes and war tactics. But when the time came to fight all of their plans would probably crumble. Death was not like anything people could expect.

As Mythee began to speak to Dessande Zephyr looked at the sky. There were small fluffy clouds flying free. No signs of the great storm that had slowed down her arrival were left. At least the trip home would be pleasant.

A cold shiver ran up her spine for some reason as she looked down into the dessert below. Zephyr shook it off and returned her attention to Mythee. "Let's go Mythee! I am curious about these things you wear."

Jikrae frowned behind his mask when he heard that Amelia felt herself incapable of bringing back things that were dead. It was a disadvantage that, while Jikrae had not hoped for, he had known to be true. It was not the ability of any Exile, hopefully, to be able to control death, for anyone with that kind of ability would almost certainly be difficult to manipulate.

Jikrae resisted the temptation to bow once again, and then said, "I'm not sure how fast you can move, but you look quite capable of keeping up with me. I will run to my Kingdom, which is a fair distance away. If you're ready..."

Dessande' floated to the earth beside Mythee as she halted and began to converse with him. He spoke with gentle authority on the subject.

"I had wished to speak on the matter initially, and was glad you brought it up before we began to disperse. I may be able to help with the trade routes because of the nature of my Domain. While most Exiles do not know the Domains of the others, I am aware that there are some other than I who know of them.

My Domain is that of Water, and this is a great boon in trade, as it can provide both trade routes and a number of other commodities simply by its presence in quantity. Soon my people will require wood for ships and other tools. I am aware that my Garden is fairly isolated, being on an island in the center of this world's only sea, and also has little in the way of latent resources for my people to thrive upon. We must rely on trade and the gifts of the sea to thrive and grow.

In exchange for being the first to have an easy trade route and connection to the sea, you could provide some wood for my people's first excursions upon the water. I will need wood soon, but I cannot create a river in a day, if you know what I mean. Is this an acceptable offer?"

Dessande' finished his monologue with an obvious inquisitive look as he looked at Mythee.

Devath
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Devath
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Posted: Wed Aug 15, 2007 5:36 pm

History of the Exiles Page Eleven

Modest started to wakefulness, sitting up rapidly he looked out at the expansive desert moving about him, red red sand met his dark eyes as he stand out into the horizon and beyond. With a tentative hand he pushed against a red stone. For the first time he looked behind him to be greeted by a massive cliff face, he eased himself up against the towering wall until he was standing somewhat stably.

It was as he was catching his breath leaning against the tower that he laid eyes upon the platinum band around his finger, a wave of sadness that had no true reason for falling upon him crashed down, further taking his breath away. With no idea why he let out a shout so completely filled with anguish that the sand itself seemed to give him sympathy, slowly and through sobs he lowered himself to back to the sandy floor and sat regarding the platinum band that caused him so much pain. He regarded it bitterly for another minute before deciding it best that he not lay eyes on it too often he opened his rucksack and dropped it inside.

A cap was pulled out of his bag and placed on top of his curls, wiping the tears off his face he stood and began moving, he was a practical man above an emotional one and his first task he decided was to find someone to talk to. Having no memory annoyed the slight man, grimacing bitterly he placed one unsteady leg before the other and began heading west.

"You picked an odd time to arrive here, Modest." Came the Craftsman's cold voice echoing over the wind. He stepped casually from around the other side of the large red stone that Modest had been leaning against as if he was on the other side of it the entire time. "I'm sure that the three laws are echoing in your head right now, I'm sure that you know that I'm the Craftsman, so I'll dispense with the pleasantries."

The Craftsman moved gracefully to a small mound of sand and sat down on it with a sigh. The sand did not yield at all to his weight, but supported him fully. He waved a hand dismissively. "There are no Stone Gardens anymore. The ones that were left alone have been sunken into sand or else otherwise killed. There's nobody left, at the moment, that's all you need to know."

His long mustaches drooped slightly, and the silver ball bearings that he had for eyes were narrowed as he regarded the young whelp who stood before him. "Most unfortunate timing, however a welcome is still in order." The Craftsman stood. "Welcome to your new home. I'm glad that you found it. There are others here, like you, as well as handfuls of people. All of those are North of here, though." He motioned to the West. "Nearby is a single tower made of this same kind of stone. That's the new library. I remember you spent much of your time there."

With that, he turned. "I leave you to your own designs, Modest. You're more free than the others in a way. They are burdened with leadership while you are burdened simply with finding a place." The Craftsman smiled. "I'm sure that you can help make this world a better place." He bowed his head respectfully.

Modest was surprised to see the old grey man step from the stone although he would not let his shock meet his eyes. He opened his parched lips to speak to the man but was cut off as The Craftsman beat him to it. Listening politely as the steel eyed man explained that he had no real purpose here at this point in time. "It's not by choice that I came at this time. This harsh landscape is not at all welcoming wise one." Modest replied respectfully. "But I must find somewhere to go and someone to help. There's change coming here old master, I can feel it in my bones. Would you care to walk with me for a while? I don't fancy the walk to the library in solitude." He asked in a tone that suggested he was entirely unaffected by the Craftsman's company.

His meeting with the old man had intoned some strength in him, rising himself up to his full height and acceptance plying it's works on his soul. He could perhaps move on here, he'd no idea where he was from but that place was filled with a sorrow that had made a once joyous man melancholy. The desert was untainted and there was a good chance that no man but he and the creator of this place standing before him had stood here.

The Craftsman laughed in a snide tone for a few moments before turning his back on Modest. "You can feel it in your bones, can you?" He laughed again, louder. "Well, let's just wait and see lest your bodily supports lack the clairvoyance to see correctly." He laughed once more and began walking away. "Do as you will, Modest." His voice grew louder as his body faded away, leaving only a disembodied voice hanging thick in the air.

The Craftsman observed Modest from all angles at once. He saw through the 'eyes' of every grain of sand, every particle of air, all at once. He was connected so thoroughly with this planet that he could literally be anything that existed. It was more than a simple transformation. His spirit had been dispersed into this entire planet. In a way, he almost was the planet.

"If you want to help people then head North. Follow that little internal compass of yours. It will lead you eventually to the nearest exile. I know that most of them are still at the Stone Council, but they should be returning home shortly" His voice began to fade away. "I leave you to your own designs for now, Modest. But I shall keep an eye on you with great interest. Remember, if you ever need to see me..."

There was the sound of ringing silver as something metal fell into Modest's bag.

"Simply use that." The voice hushed to a whisper and was gone.

A bemused smile touched Modest's face, The Craftssman was about the only person in his position of power that refused to talk in riddles. That gave Modest something to think about as he changed his direction to the north. Having no real idea of the effect he had on the people of this land he had no idea who needed the help that the grey old man had suggested he give. Modest knew that that silver orb was not to be used simply because he had no idea who to go to. Although there was a semblance of a halting friendship between the young man and the old one Modest had no desire to test it.

The wide leather hat that covered Modest's body in shade was a god-send, having no wish to be baked alive he made sure it was on tightly before continuing. He had no real idea where he should go, he simply followed the tugging that guided his steps north. Darkness fell yet he remained alert and unconcerned about the fact that his body was getting pulled along, soon enough he'd be at his destination. Looking towards the sky he noticed that even here there was stars.

Dunaldra smilled at Nyx's last comment. It was rather touching to her, and she believed that the two of them could have a good relationship with the future to come. At least, she would with one person. Well, the building of relationships take a long time, so she'll wait to see how things turned out. "Well, I believe I should head back to my people too. Take care, Nyx." Duna responded, before the said woman transformed into a small bird and flew off into the distance, heading back to her people. Looking back at the exiles left, which were only a couple in scattered conversations, she decided not to distract them with a farewell of her own. Everyone was busy with trade deals, something she herself could not participate in just yet. On that note, the desert maiden too transformed into a hawk, flapping her wings and lifted herself into the sky. Then, she headed south, and back to her garden.

Not much time passed before she reached the outskirts of her own garden, though night had nearly fallen over the horizon. With a light sigh, she transformed back into her normal self, slowly walking back to her awaiting people. Two seemed rather impatient, so when she finally walked in, they lept out and hugged her long legs. They were, of course, Carina and Mary, the youngest girls in her group. "We missed you so much, Mother!" Mary cried, clinging to her as the others began to come out of the stone hovels that were their temperary homes.

"I know, I missed you all as well. I am glad to see that you're alright." Dunaldra replied, bending down and placing her hands on top of their heads with a smile. Yes, it was good to be back with her children.

"Mother, Carina told us that you would tell her your actual name?" She looked up to see it was Natalia, one of the older women in her group of people, who had asked the question.

"Yes, I will get to that." Dunaldra replied, forcing Carina and Mary off of her legs. Walking past everyone, she stood at the edge of their water supply and said out to them all, "Everyone, I will tell you now that Mother is not my only name. It is, as we call, a title. A name you give someone close to you, something personal and only you would use. The name I am known to others as is Dunaldra. However, you do not have to call me by that name. You can continued calling me Mother, as if you so wish.

"In the future, though, I will not be giving your own children their names. In fact, I will not even name this land. It is your job to think of what you believe is a good name, and what name fits your people. This will be, in time, a land you must govern yourselves. I will always be here to guide you, but there will be a time where you must make decisions for yourselves.

"For now, it is getting late. Off all of you, you need to rest. That is for the future, but in the present you need to build up your strength." Dunaldra finished, leading her people back into their stone homes. When everyone was back inside, Dunaldra took a moment to think to herself. She may have come from the domain of sand before, but she could not remember the basics of living in the desert. She was, after all, different from her own humans and did not rely on the basic needs that they did. So, she was not entirely sure what kinds of cloth to make and how to get it, or how to attain the other foods they needed to survive. Duna needed advice, and she knew the one place to get it.

"I hope I'm not gone too long." Dunaldra muttered aloud as she looked back around the houses. Once again, for the third time that day, the desert maiden transformed into a bird before flying away into the distance. She needed help from the Library, though how much she would get she did not know. No harm in trying.

Toucan's goggles protected her now from the sand yet she squinted all the same, watching the wind whipping through and creating rift upon rift of the golden, clear, black, brown, and other coloured particles... she wondered if there was iron among it. In the deserted courtyard she felt it safe to finally slip her hand into the pocket to twist and turn the sliver of metal, her expression relaxing as she did so.

She sucked in her breath suddenly, startled by something she saw. Something in the desert had suddenly appeared, then something else next to it-- just to the south-- and Toucan somehow knew that the second figure was none other than the craftsman. But who was the first?

Quieting herself, Toucan paid very close attention and found that she had the faintest sense of something in common with the other figure, the same sense she had when she was around the other exiles. That meant that the figure was potentially one like her-- but he wasn't at the meeting.

What was going on? Toucan leaned over the railing, unconscious of the desert hundreds of feet below, all her extraordinary intellect geared purely toward solving problems focused on the two figures.

"Toucan, it's good to see you out here."

He was standing just behind her, his leather coat and silver tresses floating idly in the cool wind. He looked up. "Ah. Storm clouds are gathering. We're about to see our first snow down here." He said. His eyes were narrowed as he peered up at the sky.

The ground beneath their feet began to rumble slightly. The Craftsman took a step forward and laid his narrow hand on Toucan's shoulder. "I'm sorry for what you're about to see, Toucan. He said as he peered at the now single Exile who was walking the desert. "The poor thing must have lost her memory in the transition." He said as he regarded the winged lady in the distance. "She's not even really a sentient being anymore. She's been wandering the desert like a phantom these past five days." He sighed.

He gently pulled her shoulder. "Let's walk, I am greatly interested to hear what plans you're concocting for your kingdom. I am sure that it will be a beautiful and terrible metropolis of metal by the time your scientific mind gets done with it." He started guiding Toucan slowly away even as the ground where they had been standing split open. Karon's slender fingers dug into the newly created ledge and hauled his skeletal frame out of the crack in the earth. For a few moments it just lay there on it's back, wheezing and gurgling as blood oozed from its mask. The chains were already rippling and bunching underneath its exposed back.

"I'd rather you not see this one's nasty handiwork." The Craftsman said sadly as he regarded Karon.

Then they were gone, walking towards the Western Peninsula that housed Toucan's future capital.

***

The White Lady was running. She had missed the summons, and now she was running. She had been in control of the Cunis Door and had seen fragments, mere fragments of the souls of two dead Exiles pass through it. She didn't know what kind of detestable power fractured the very soul as if it were paper, but she wanted no part of it.

She was running towards the library, her wings flapping wildly as she raced towards the single stone tower standing amid the patches of sand and snow. The latter of which was now pelting down heavily on the Southern Desert with no sign of stopping.

If she could just get inside...

There had to be something. Anything.

Tears fell freely from her eyes as she forced her way through the blistering cold air. She heard a sound. What was that? It sounded like metal. She didn't want to know what it was, she just increased her furious pace.

The metallic sound grew louder. She looked over her shoulder in desperation. She couldn't see anything through this snow...No...

There was something. Something was loping after her, its movements were jerky and spider-like. And it seemed to be surrounded by tentacles that were furiously flailing about in all directions, and yet they seemed to move like snakes, almost. Gliding their way sensuously through the air.

She turned back towards the library. She could see it now..she might make-

One of her wings was severed. She was vaguely aware of a massive blade that looked like it might have belonged on the end of a halberd. She was vaguely aware of the thin ribbon of blood that followed it. Then she was on the ground. Crashing into it with a dull thud. She didn't waste any time, but started crawling blindly towards the library, all the while hearing the approaching beast. It was close enough so that she could hear its breathing now. It's horrible rattling breath...

She shuddered even as she tried not to pass out from the pain of it.

"Help Me!" She shrieked futilely at the sky. "HELP! PLEASE!"

Modest was paying too much attention to the brown leather boots that were encasing his feet to notice much, the people watching and talking were distant although he could hear them. Sound carried well when there was nothing to contain it here. The thing he did notice however was the snowflakes falling on his nice brown boots.

Looking up for the first time in hours he noticed that the sky had been obscured by dark cold looking clouds, and that those composites of moisture was dropping freezing cold snow on him. The flakes that landed on his face as he held is head up the sky were icy cold. Deciding that he could stop for perhaps long enough to gather a cloak and a jacket from his sack he let the sack hit the floor and went searching for his clothes. He wrapped up the ring and the trinket in a handkerchief and placed them in a pocket before throwing on his cloak and moving on.

A scream split the air with the sounds of pleading. A flash of images passed before his eyes and he felt a moment of anguish. He' had no idea what was screaming and why but it didn't sound too distant. Perhaps he could do something.

It seemed the desert stretched on forever as Dunaldra flew through the sky in her bird form. Was her land really this big, or was everything inbetween the mountains and the growing tundra still just desert? Well, she had noticed that the farther south she got, the cooler the temperatures got, but she assumed that by the fact that evening ws fast approaching. It also reminded Dunafor her purpose of coming here, which was to get vital information she needed to raise her people. I need to go faster She willed herself internall as, in the distance, she noticed a tall structure in front of her, which she assumed to be the Library coming ahead.

Dunaldra was surprised to see another winged creature ahead of her and heading towards Library. Perhaps it was another exile heading for information like herself. When she looked closer, though, she realized that it was a woman with wings, but not a woman she recognized. Had she not gone to the meeting? She meant to reach out and ask who she was, but she was interupted when, suddenly, something lashed out and cut off one of her wings from her back. Shocked, Duna looked down to see where the massive blade came from.

And she, herself, nearly fell out of the sky from what she saw. A hideous monster, his stature huge and chains coiled around his body that seemed to come from the ground. She continued to watch as she, with her one side bleeding, began to crawl for her life towards the doors to the Library, banging on them to open. Then, she looked up to the sky and called out for help, and it seemed like she knew she was up there, watching. Dunaldra, not knowing any better, began to dive down towards the woman. Then, she changed back to her normal self and grabbed her, saying, "Hurry!"

But it was too late, for Duna saw the blood dripping right next to them, and the harsh breathing right above their shoulders.

She had managed to reach the great ebony doors of the library. She hammered against them with her fists. She wasn't surprised that it turned out to be a futile effort. She felt the warm wetness on her back continue to seep down her white garment, now soaking her legs. She tried not to shudder as she hammered again and again on the door. "Please!" She screamed, choking back a tide of more sobs.

The rattling breath reached her ears again. She looked over her shoulder, slowly.

It had stopped at the bottom of the steps, it's hand outstretched and pointing at her. She noticed that the finger had one too many knuckles, though why her fevered eyes should notice such trivialities now she had no idea. She pushed her back against the door, kicking her legs as she tried to force her way through it. Her one wing flapped feebly.

Still, Karon did not move. Its ravaged flesh continued to pulsate from the constant movement of its torturing chains sliding inside its body, but the body itself was still. The faceless metal cage that encased the beast's entire head merely regarded her without emotion. She watched in horror as one of the chains, one that seemed to her to be slightly thicker than the rest of them. reared itself over the skeletal monster's head like the tail of a scorpion. Her eyes followed the large chain as it arced over the beasts head and impaled itself into the ground with a heavy metallic ring that echoed throughout the area. Fresh tears began to flow as she saw what was on the end of the chain.

A sword, although it looked too unwieldy to really suit the word. The chain connected to a ring at the end of its handle, which was a long, simple iron shaft wrapped in an old bandage that was stained with the brown residue of old blood. The two crossguards were simple, narrower bands of black iron. The blade was narrow for perhaps an inch before it flared out so that it was over a foot wide. The width of the blade compared with the length of it would have seemed almost comical to one who wasn't contemplating the prospect of being impaled on the end of it.

The spidery hand wrapped itself around the long haft of the weapon, tearing it out of the ground with one brutal pull. Karon leveled the blade at the White Lady so that, had it had eyes, it would have been staring at her horrified face down the wide blood channel that ran down the center of the blackened iron weapon.

Karon advanced, the sword blade dangled from its limp hand, resounding against each step as the heavy blade bounced off of it. Karon stopped when it was standing directly over her, wheezing slowly. It's hollow chest puffing out painfully with each breath.

"Mercy...." She wept hopelessly. She stared at the blood soaked ground in front of her as the black blood from its mouth mixed with her own. "Please..." She no longer had the strength to look into its face.

It spoke. It's voice was nothing but a whisper that had drawn itself into a hiss. It's voice echoed hauntingly over the steps of the library.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamned." It breathed.

There was a sickly thud as the sword fell. What had once been the White Lady sat against the steps. Her face looking up, frozen in horror, and split neatly in two down the center. The two halves were still for a moment, and then slid apart, spilling out a horrendous mess onto the steps.

Karon turned, it's newest lantern dangled on the metal ring that was the pommel of it's horrible weapon.
(The White Lady has been expelled from the RP)

His eyes opened slowly as though waking from a slumber, the warmth of a sun clung to his face. He was arched over a rock his back as though it was broken as his eyes looked around calmly. What was this curious feeling that he had filling him, a moment of realization finally smacked him. Thsi feeling that had grasped him, this rush that was suddenly taking over him was life. Its breath was slow to fill his lungs as he inhaled slowly, a twinge of pain overtaking him as his inards burned.

Sitting up quickly he coughed his hand moving quickly to cover his mouth. He fell from his resting place and landed in shsifting sands that were below him. It dragged and tickled the skin of his hand as the sand blew past him in the gentle rush of the wind. His coughing calmed and he sat back on his knees staring up into the sky. He felt that he needed a moment to think, to come to terms with what was actually happening. It was only through the calming of himself that he could fully take the innitiative to do what he needed to.

Birth how it was a feeling that only those not being birthed feel that they experience so much more. The mix of joy and excitment..pain and concern. They are wrong in many ways and yet none of them stop to actually think about thier own birth. The swirling mass of emotions and actions that take place in a moment as such the chaos of it all. The birth of all beings is that in a equal exchange to mirror the creation of all life. The only thing in the life of all things that none can actually escape and that none may avoid is not the cold grip of death. Yet it is the on going torture of life, death may be a time that many fear, but why it is so short why does one let its thought linger. It is through the decisions and actions that one takes that determines the torture of lifes sevearaty.

His mind racked itself over and over with the thoughts of that cycle while he moved to lean his back to the rock to recieve some shade form the light. It was rather warm to him and beads of sweat had alread began to build on his brow. There was a bit of a scream that suddenly caught his attention, it made his thoughst all stand at end. Not enough to actually draw him to turn his head, but only slow his thoughts. Scream of pain, shock and awe, or was it of joy, it is the nature to look because most associate the scream with pain. It is a feeling that one fears like death but it is avoidable. His face, his mouth its corners twisted only slightly to show the makings of a smile before they fell again.

Screams, death, pain, sorrow, joy, happiness and all the other emtions and feelinsg that one can experience. They do not believe that all of them can be weapons to destroy a being. That they are the true makings off all that is truly wrong with creation. It is through a mundane boring existance that life would go on perfectly.

"Ha, but where is the fun in that!" his words came out sharply to himself as he hushed the constant mutter of his mind. His eye slooked up from the sand and infront of him onto the horizon.

"So what am I supposed to be doing anyways, I do not want sound a bit like a imbasile but I feel oh so lost." sarcasm soaking his statement to himself as if he expected an answer.

Softly, Shizuka landed on the middle of a field, near “her” sanctuary. The valley was lush and green, a center of life and serenity. It was exceptionally large, perhaps eighty miles long and three hundred fifty miles wide. The grasses were extremely tall, some growing to the height of her elbows. She turned on the spot, examining the valley. In the northern distance a forest with both deciduous and evergreen saplings slowly formed. A calm, wide river wound its way into the woods, running the length of the valley. Majestic, purple mountains surrounded the whole of the place. She knew that the large valley was nestled smack dab in the middle of a large range, making it difficult to travel outside. This would cause a problem for trading, unless they found an easy and convenient route through the mountains. Evergreen forests started to dot the mountainsides. The stream branched off to the west a few hundred yards before the forest, flowing into a cave in the foot of one of the mountains. Here and there small herds of deer and antelope grazed, and if one was lucky, they would see mountain goats around and about. The plains themselves were pocked with rabbit holes here and there, and small flowers bloomed in the sunlight. The sparse amount of trees already reached a considerable height, providing a bit of shade here and there.

This is better than I could have possibly imagined, she grinned with glee. Tall grass indicates good farmland conditions, there’s meat to be had here and there . . . She inhaled deeply letting the clean, new air enter her lungs. The condition of this valley brightened her mood considerably, with had been rather moody and brooding on the way there. A quick plan for the future immediately formed in her mind, this valley becoming the number one area for the cultivation of food. But she checked herself before her mind ran off; there were clear flaws here, too. Although there was plenty of potential for agriculture, nothing suggested an abundance of materials for the manufacturing of metals or for the beginnings of architecture. Wood could only be taken in bulk from the forest in the distance, which was only a speck on the horizon. There might have been some in the mountains, but those, too, were a considerable distance away, for humans, at least. The people here would have to trade elsewhere when the time came, or spend days traveling in pursuit of building material. With a little luck, this region could yield something rare or uncommon in other places and provide a strong bartering tool. Quickly, she racked her brain for information on the domains and locations of other Exiles. Toucan could prove to be quite a help for she was guaranteed to be drawn to metal, and so would Roet, whose little Sanctuary, if she remembered correctly, had sprouted in the company of a forest on all sides. Wood could also be procured from the others, although she seriously doubted immediate cooperation from Dunaldre and Nyx, for her words would have stung them the most. It came to her then that she had no idea were Dessandre’s Garden was. She supposed he was isolated like her, and didn’t think much else on the matter.

Setting these things aside, her attention finally turned to the walled Garden a little ways from her.

She was too far away to notice anything out of the ordinary.

The Reference Guide

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