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Post by Jonok Coldfury on Sept 12, 2008 21:06:06 GMT -5
((This thread is the story of what happens to Calana Coldfury Swiftpaw after the conclusion of the Demon War. It starts before the White Sash leaves the Field of Full Spectrum and will end with the continuation of Wandering.)) Most of the army left in search of the gateway from which the demon horde came. They sought to close it again, but this time they brought dwarven blast powder with them. This time they were going to make it impossible to find the door again.
Calana listened as they marched off into the distance. Jonok had made her stay behind with a small battalion to guard the portway to Cornar. Winter was setting in. They snow was falling more heavily and the temperature was dropping further and further. But the cold did not bother Calana as she stood on the snow covered earthworks, letting the wind howl past her. No thought passed through her mind. She stood listening to the army until she could no longer hear them of the wind. She shook herself, loosening the snow that had begun to stick to her fur and then turned back toward the camp behind her. She began limping back toward her tent with the aid of a broken spear shaft. The wound in her leg left from the arrow had been causing her a great deal of pain ever since she had woken up after the battle was over. The fact that her hands were still stiff and burned didn’t make using the make-shift cane any easier.
As she walked, she could smell the meals being prepared on cooking fires. The aroma made her stomach growl. She also felt the snow beneath her feet, and the solid ground beneath it. With the loss of her eye sight, Calana now had to rely on her other senses. She never realized how much she had used her other senses.
It took her a while, and she had to ask several soldiers to point her in the right way (many of them offered to lead her, but she politely refused), but she made it to her tent. She pulled off her coat once she was inside and hung it on a hook that had been attached to the roof of the tent. She felt her way around until she found her cot and popped down on it. The sudden jarring knocked her bow over, which fell hitting Calana on the knee. She was startled at first, but as she started feeling it, she understood what had happened. She lifted the bow into her lap. Never again would she be able to shoot. “If you can’t see the target, how can you hit it?” she said aloud to no one. The statement brought the trickle of a memory into her mind. An image began to fade into her mind. It was Dogin, he was pointing off into the distance, looking from her to the place where he pointing and back to her. “Close your eyes, Calana, then listen to the sound of the wind. Try as hard as you can to make a mental picture of the flag then, when you think you have it, fire.” Why the memory had come to her began to make sense. It was the test Dogin had given her those weeks ago. She had almost been able to see the flag on the battlements before she fired. She placed the bow on the bed beside her and stood up, reaching for her coat. She pulled it on as she quickly stepped outside. She focused on the sounds around her. She heard several flags. First, she began trying to tell one flag from another. She stood there, listening for a while, but her leg began to throb, so she was forced to find something to sit on before she continued. She found an empty barrel near her tent. She stood it up on one end and lifted herself up onto it and sat on top of it. She began listening again.
From where she now sat, things sounded different, but she was able to distinguish the same flags she had been listening to before. She focused on one that seemed to be the closest, it was roughly twenty feet to her left. She focused on the sounds it made, the way the wind wrapped around it. She concentrated as hard as she could, trying to make a mental picture. She sat there for a long time, trying different ways to go about forming the image. A simple image of a flag kept coming to her mind, but it was one she had seen in the past, she wanted to see the one she was listening to.
She started to get frustrated and started thinking about giving up. Don’t you do it Calana Coldfury Swiftpaw! Calana was shaken by the voice in her head. “Kaltana?” Yep, I’m still here. “Kaltana, I can’t do this… I couldn’t do it before and I can’t do it now.” You’re right, you can’t do it if you have that attitude. Calana lowered her head, Kaltana was right. She began to concentrate again. “Listen to the sound of the wind and try as hard as you can to make a mental picture of the flag.” Dogin’s voice came to her again. The fire welled up inside her, “I will do it… for him.” She focused in on the sound of the flag. At first nothing happened, but after a moment, an image began to form. The edge of the flag materialized. More and more of it came into focus, as though a fog were receding from her mind. Then she could see the top of spear the flag hung on. The more she could see, the faster more of the image formed. The shaft of the spear formed, then the ground it was stuck in. She let her focus widen and other flags began to form, as did people, her tent, equipment piles. She could only see these things in her mind, and the vision only reached about thrity feet before the images began to distort and become fuzzy. She slowly stood walking through the mental image that had formed around her. She stopped beside her tent and hesitantly lifted her hand, reaching out toward the image. The tips of her fingers touched the cloth and a smile spread across her face. “Thank you, Dogin.” She could see someone approaching from behind her. Though the image was fuzzy, she knew who it was. “How are you, Dran?” Dran stopped in his tracks. “You’ve got fairly good hearing, milady.” Calana smiled to herself. “I was just coming by to check on you, Calana. See if you needed anything.” Much to his surprise, she turned and looked him right in the face. “I could use something. A one handed practice sword.” Dran was taken aback. “Calana… a practice sword? But…” Calana held up a hand to silence him. “Please, just go get one for me… and one for yourself.” “One for me, too? What are you scheming?” “I may have lost my sight, but I will still be able to defend myself. Take your time. I am not quite ready to begin the training.” She turned and began to walk out through the camp. Dran watched her. She was sure footed. She was avoiding obstacles. “Milady… How are your eyes today?” Calana half turned to him, pulling the bandage up off of her eyes. They were slightly faded and the light that had been behind them was gone. She wasn’t quite looking right at him, but extremely close. She blinked a few times then pulled the bandage back down. “No change today, Quartermaster.”
Calana walked around for nearly half an hour, but then she felt weariness beginning to set in as well as the cold. She made her way back to the tent and sat down on the bed. Her head was beginning to hurt. She stopped focusing on the sounds around her and the mental image began to fade. Soon she was sitting in the black void of blindness again. It was almost suffocating at first, but Calana began to relax. She pulled her legs up onto the cot and pulled the blankets tightly around her and fell into a dreamless sleep.
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Post by Jonok Coldfury on Sept 16, 2008 22:51:08 GMT -5
Calana’s days were filled with practice and training and her nights were filled with restless, dreamless sleep. Days turned into weeks. The White Sash returned home to Cornar. Calana’s skills continued to grow because Dran was an excellent teacher. Calana held one thing in her mind and heart. She would not be stopped by the loss of her sight, she would press on, as Dogin always had.
One day, as she was practicing, Jonok stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall, watching. Dran and Calana were circling each other. Dran swung quick and true, but Calana brought her sword around and deflected the blow before making a strike of her own. The point of the wooden sword caught Dran in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Jonok began to clap. Calana turned to him, as did Dran, who quickly got to his feet and bowed low. “The people of Cornar wish to present you with gifts, Calana. They wish to welcome you as a guardian should be welcomed.” Calana’s head lowered, “If it is as they wish then I shall accept.” Jonok nodded, “They await you in the markets. Come, both of you.” The three of them wound their way through the city to the market. Hundreds of people were there, waiting to see the new guardian. The crowd feel silent as Calana was led into the street. Many of them whispered about the bandage that covered her eyes. There was a man standing in the middle of the street holding a robe and staff. He address the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present Lady Calana Coldfury Swiftpaw!” The crowd cheered but quickly quieted down. “Milady, on behalf of the people of Cornar, I present to you these small trinkets of our thanks to you. We also wish to bestow upon you a symbol, that of a silver, leafy vine.” Calana stepped forward as the man helped her put on the robe and then handed her the staff. She could feel carvings along the staff, they felt to be vines like the man had said. She shifted her hand along the shaft, feeling the carvings along its length before lifting her head to speak. “I thank you good people. Your gifts are appreciated. Though I have lost my sight, I will continue to serve you, and all of Gorgraz, to the full extent of my abilities. Your faith is not misplaced.” The people cheered as she nodded in various directions, hoping that she was looking at someone. She then turned and followed Dran back the way they had come. They were nearly back to their training room when she stopped him. “So… what does it all look like?” Dran turned and looked her up and down. “The robe is solid white, except for the edges, it has a silver trim and just on the inside of the trim is the pattern of the silver vines the man talked about. Your staff is made of white wood and has the same pattern carved along its length.” Calana nodded. “And it makes you look lovely.” She smiled at the comment, “Thank you, Dran… Let’s stop for today.” Dran bowed low, “Yes ma’am. Do you want me to walk you somewhere?” Calana shook her head, “No, thank you, I’ll be fine. Go be with your family.” A wide grin spread across Dran’s face, “Thank you, Calana. Have a good evening.” “The same onto you, Quartermaster.”
The following day, they began their practice as they had for many weeks. Calana had all of her gear on, today, making sure she could fight with it on. She also had several new knives, one strapped to each forearm, and one on each ankle and she still had her two original knives above the base of her tail. She looked quite intimidating, covered in knives and with a bandage over her eyes. They circled each other, then they would strike, parry, and retaliate, only today, Dran couldn’t land a single blow. They had only been working for an hour when Dran backed away, “Stop… stop. Milady, I think we are done. You have surpassed my skill. I have fought you today with everything I have, true it isn’t much, but you have stopped my every advance and landed many blows of your own. You have out grown me.” Calana lowered her practice sword. “And you doubted it could be done all those weeks ago.” She said, laughing slightly. Dran smiled as he dropped his practice sword. “I concede to a superior swordsman.” He bowed slightly and Calana returned the bow.
Suddenly, the world about her was lost to her and was replaced with the sound of wind rushing past her. She pulled the bandage off of her eyes to see the land beneath her feet. She looked around taking in all she could. It seemed so foreign to see colors and shapes in this way. She was in the field where the demon war had taken place. The sky was red with black clouds. There was a group of dark figures, eleven of them, standing around a twelfth who was curled up in a ball on the ground. She slowly walked toward them. As she drew nearer, she could hear them speak. “Curse the mortals. Curse them. But we did as we were supposed to. Their world will fall to darkness soon enough.” The one on the ground spat. He slowly got to his feet. “I have done as I was ordered, and I shall be rewarded.” When he stood, Calana immediately recognized him. It was Balthazan. She gasped before she could contain herself. Balthazan froze, his head slowly turned to face her. “Well, well. One of the protectors of the mortals has come to visit. Come closer, mutt!” Calana turned to run, but a hand that was not there caught her by the neck and dragged her toward Balthazan. It dropped her on her hands and knees before him. “So, your kind can bow to their true master.” With the flick of his wrist, the hand came back, this time it lifted her feet off the ground and held her there. “Well, shewolf, why are you here?” Calana couldn’t speak, nor could she breath. “You don’t know, do you? Well go back and tell your people that they have only won the battle, the true war is yet to come.” She was flung through the air and hit something solid and fell to the ground. Her vision went black, the sound of wind left her. The ground felt of stone. “Milady?! Calana?! Can you hear me?!” Came a voice. It was Dran. Calana opened her eyes to be embraced by darkness. “What happened?” she asked weakly. Dran was speechless, “Calana… what… are you… can I…” Calana waved a hand, “I’m ok, help me up.” Dran quickly took her arm and pulled her up to her feet. “I saw him, Dran… He isn’t dead…” Dran was confused, “Who? Dogin? That’s wond…” “No, not Dogin,“ she cut him off, “Balthazan… he isn’t dead. And he said something…something else…” she rubbed her head as she tried to make sense of it all. “He said he had done what he was supposed to… and that now he would be rewarded…” Dran’s face showed great concern. “What are you talking about, milady? What happened?” Calana shook her head. “It must have been a vision… I don’t know. I need to talk to Jonok.”
Dran quickly helped her pull on the robe she had been given the day before, then handed her the staff. The pair of them walked quickly, Dran leading the way, pulling Calana along by the hand, she was limping slightly because of her bad leg. They went straight to Elder Firestorm’s study, a place where Jonok would often stay for hours, talking with his advisor, Talrot. Dran knocked on the large wooden door. “Come in!” came the muffled reply. Dran swung the door open to reveal the cozy study, with large chairs and soft lighting. “Ah, Quartermaster! And Miss Coldfury, so good to see you both!” Talrot exclaimed. His happy expression faded when they did not smile at the greeting. Calana stepped forward, “Elder Firestorm, I have grave news. Balthazan is not dead.” Talrot’s eyes narrowed, “Where did you learn of this.” Calana was at a loss for words, “I… it was… it came to me in a… vision, but it wasn’t a vision.” Dran shook his head, “If it was a vision it was one of the most violent ones I’ve ever seen. Course I haven’t seen many…” Calana jerked her head toward him, cutting him off. Talrot’s eyes widened, “Calana Coldfury Swiftpaw, you tell me exactly what happened. All of it! Exactly as it happened!” Calana began to stutter. “NOW!” The volume and force of his voice made Calana jump. “I… I was in the training hall with Dran, we were practicing. We were just about to stop when it happened. My vision returned, only I wasn’t in the training room, I was back in the field were we fought the demon hordes, only it was different. The sky was red and the ground was dry and cracked. Balthazan was there, surrounded by the remaining eleven Terror Knights. He… saw me and dragged me toward him using magic…” “It was frightening to see.” Dran piped up. Talrot’s eyes flashed to Dran’s face, “You saw this vision too?” Dran shook his head, “No, I just saw her get dragged across the floor, then lifted up off the ground.” Calana cut back in to continue, “Yeah, he did lift me off the ground using the same magic. He told me to tell our people that what we witnessed was but a battle and the true war was still to come. Then I was back in the training room, and my vision was gone… I need to talk to Jonok… where is he?” Talrot’s eyes had closed as she told the story. “The Eye of Four,” he whispered. “I know what this is and its something that you father cannot help you with. It is something that has not happened in many generations. You did not regain your sight, then lose it. Your perception changed. You were looking into another plane of existence. Calana, I believe you are a Seer, and that means that until you learn to control yourself, you are in grave danger.” “A Seer? What does that mean?” Calana asked, perplexed. Talrot stood and walked over to a weapon rack that stood on one side of the room. “Dran, I thank you for helping Calana, but for now, I must respectfully ask you to leave and not to repeat any of these events to anyone else.” Dran saluted, “Yes, Elder. Take care, milady. If you ever need anything…” he paused, knowing he needn’t say any more, then turned and left the study.
“Why does he have to go?” Calana asked, her head turned toward the door, “What’s going on? What’s happenin…” Talrot cut her off, “Hold out your hands.” Calana did so. Talrot lifted a small short sword in its sheath from the rack then crossed the room to stand in front of her. He gently placed the weapon in her hands, “This is the first and most important thing you must learn from me. Keep this weapon with you all the time. All the time, Calana, while you walk, sleep, eat. This sword should never be out of your reach. This is Silverstorm, a Seer’s sword. It is your first and last line of defense. Normal weapons will be useless in your visions, but this one will always be there for you, if you have it with you.” Calana ears were turned toward Talrot, but her face was aimed down toward the sword in her hands. It was light and small. Taking his words to heart, she tied the scabbard to her weapon belt and adjusted it so it would be easy to draw. Talrot smiled, “You’re a fast learner. That is good. The sooner you understand this gift, the sooner you will be safe.”
Calana turned her head toward Talrot, “You keep saying I’m in danger… how? What is threatening me?” Talrot pulled a chair up close to Calana’s and wearily sat down. “The things I am about to tell you and the things I will teach you in the coming weeks are part of an ancient knowledge lost to the rest of the world. I am one of three that know these things. It would be best if these things do not pass to anyone outside of the two of us. Understood?” Calana nodded. “Ok, I hope you like history, Calana, because you are about to learn of how the world was in ancient times. Long ago, there was an entity, who was later known as Gorgraz, he created the world. He put a number of creatures into the world to inhabit it. There were the angels, demons, spirits, and mortals. They all lived in peace. Then Gorgraz created the gods we know today and charged them with the protection and governing of their creatures. For a time, all was well, but the leader of the Conclave of Darkness became greedy, believing that the creatures of darkness should rule over all others. A bloody war ensued. Angels, spirits, and mortals all stood together to stop the tide of evil that flowed from the lands inhabited by the demons. The war went on for a long time. No one knows how long, save those who still live who witnessed it, I speak of course of the others, not mortals. In the end, the Conclave of Darkness was defeated, its leader sealed away. The true leader of the Pantheon of Light gave up his title, thus balancing the order of things, but it was too late. The sudden swinging of the Balance caused the essence of the world to tear and, though the Balance was restored, over the next hundreds or even thousands of years, the world drifted apart, forming four worlds that exist in the same place. The worlds of Light, Dark, Spirit, and the Mortals. The world of Mortals, this world, is the one that holds the others together, it is their anchor. Many often wonder why the Land of Zargon take the Balance so seriously. This, the first war of Gorgraz, demonstrated how the laws of nature worked and how important the Balance was.” “But what does all of this have to do with me?” Calana asked as she ran her hand along the handle and cross tree of Silverstorm. Talrot sighed, “These four worlds exist with the same place, but they normally don’t intersect. It takes powerful magic to create a bridge between two of the worlds, and many have been made, but these bridges can be closed from either side, blocking access. You, Calana, do not need a bridge, you can pass from world to world whenever you wish, but at great risk. There are creatures that would wish to capture you and take your power and in so doing, kill you. It is also possible that you will also exist within two worlds at once. You may also see the past or future. This is what makes being a Seer so difficult. You are never sure if what you are seeing is happening now, has already happened, or might happen in the future. And hear me now, Calana Coldfury Swiftpaw, just because you see something in the future that might happen, does not mean it will come to pass. Time is like the shifting sands, nothing can be said for certain about tomorrow. Do you understand so far?” Calana sat in silence for a moment. “So I can see into the worlds of Light, Dark, and Spirit, I can exist in them?” Talrot nodded, “Yes, it is called the Eye of Four.” “Why can I see in those worlds, but not in this one?” Talrot shook his head, “I’m afraid I don’t know.” “What is the purpose of a Seer?” “Some say that a Seer will be revealed when the world is in need, that they are the only way Gorgraz can affect the world without destroying it. But in truth, a Seer can do as he wishes and does not have to do anything.” “What about the vision I just had, the one about Balthazan? Could it be from the past.” Talrot thought for a moment, “I want you to think on it a moment. This is your first test. Determine whether it was past, present, or future.” He fell silent. Calana thought back to the vision, bringing back every detail as clearly as she could. After several minutes of careful and frustrating deliberation, she spoke, “Past.” “Why?” was Talrot’s quick reply. Calana’s shoulder’s dropped, “Wishful thinking…” Talrot nodded, “How many of Balthazan’s Knights were there?” “Eleven.” “So?” “So… so it is recent, at least after the war! How could I miss that!” She leaned back, quite heavily, into the back of the chair. “Don’t get discouraged! This vision came to you when you were not expecting it, you were not ready for it. From now on, observe your visions carefully, do not overlook anything because it could be what helps you understand it.” Talrot said leaning toward her. “Will you let me help you?” Calana sat, her head turned away. “You say I am in danger?” “Yes, very much so.” “Then I see no choice.” Talrot cut her off, “There is always choice. Always!” Calana’s head cut back around toward him. “Yes, I will let you teach me.” Talrot nodded, “There are some things you must learn now. Once you understand them, you should go get some rest and prepare yourself. To train as a Seer is a very difficult road, but a necessary one, for a Seer must be able to survive alone.”
And so the next phase of Calana’s life began, a new purpose, a new reason to live. To see the dangers that lurked unseen and to warn the people so that they could prepare themselves. Calana rose before the sun every day and learned the ways of her gift, practiced with Silverstorm, and practiced controlling her mind until after the sun had set. She soaked up everything she was told. When a vision came to her, she took notice of everything, deciphering the meaning of every little detail. After a little practice, she found she was very good at understanding the visions, a normal trait among Seers, Talrot said. She discovered a magic within Silverstorm that allowed her to turn to mist and vanish. The first time she did this in front of Dran, he fell into a panic. She quickly rematerialized in front of him telling him not to worry, much to his amazement.
With every passing day, she understood the world more clearly and she better understood herself. Every day brought new challenges as well as many old ones. As she became more in tune with her gift, training became more difficult because she was quickly moving further and further into territory where Talrot could not help her. She began to hear whispers. They would come and go without a pattern, or so it seemed at first. She began to notice that they came when things were changing around her, like when someone entered the room. And the whispers did not truly speak, they passed on an understanding. When she told Talrot of them, a smile spread across his face, “That is the land, speaking to you, trying to help you. It is not uncommon for Seers. If the whispers ever bother you, just ask them to stop and they will.” She never thought that they could be bothersome until she was practicing entering a vision on her own. The whispers became very distracting. “Please be quiet.” She whispered, and the world fell silent.
Her training went on in this manner for many weeks. One morning, Talrot came into his study, where Calana was already waiting as she always was, and spoke, “You have learned everything I can teach you. I will gladly advise you whenever you need it, but after today, you will no longer need to come here unless you wish it.” He sat in a chair across from her and folded his hands in front of his face. Calana smiled, “Thank you, Elder Talrot, for all your help.” “No, thank you Seeress Coldfury, for being such a wonderful pupil.” He paused for a moment. “Do you have any questions? Anything? No matter how small…” Calana shook her head, “No, I think I’m ready to take care of myself.” Talrot nodded slowly, “Well, I have a question… how do you get in here when I keep that door locked?” Calana’s smile widened. She had been expecting the question for several days because she learned she could use the power of Silverstorm to squeeze the through tiny cracks in the door. “Some things are better kept to one’s self.” She started to laugh at her own comment, but she felt something coming. Talrot could tell by her face that she knew she was about to have a vision. He leaned forward, wondering what this one would bring.
Calana pulled the bandage off her eyes and let it lay loosely across the top of her head. She was back in the world of Darkness, where she had seen Balthazan all those weeks ago. Only this time, she was in a dead forest. The hard dirt crunched under her feet as she walked forward and the red sky cast strange shadows across the ragged ground. She heard it before she saw it, a creature with skin darker than the void she saw in the world of Mortals with her lame eyes. It had long, spindly arms and legs and a small head. It was on her before she could even draw her sword. With one swing of it’s claws it cut a deep gash in her stomach. She cried in pain as she fell to her knees, eyes squeezed shut. Then the pain grew worse as she felt the creature trying to crawl into her through the wound. She just caught sight of its legs disappearing inside the gash when she forced her eyes open. She opened her mouth to scream, but now sound would come forth. She began trying to pull herself out of the vision, but she couldn’t, the pain was just too great. She felt the creature moving inside her. Then suddenly everything went black.
When she became aware of herself again, she was on the stone floor of Talrot’s office, writhing in pain. She her hands frantically felt her gut, searching for the wound, but it wasn’t there. “Get it out! Get it out!” she started screaming. She felt Talrot’s hands begin pressing against her stomach and her forehead. “Dear Gorgraz, no!” she heard him utter. “Calana, may you forgive me in time!” “Talrot! Get it out!” She felt cold fingers flowing through her mind, the sound of her own voice and of Talrot’s faded away. She could no longer feel her feet and legs as they beat against the ground, nor could she feel Talrot’s and which she had grabbed as soon as it had touched her stomach. Everything began to fade away into cold darkness.
Jonok burst into the study. He had been summoned by a messenger who said it was urgent and had something to do with Calana, but the young boy didn’t know anything else. Talrot turned to him as he entered. “I’m so sorry, Jonok.” The Guardian slowly stepped toward his daughter, who lay motionless on the floor. “She isn’t…” Talrot shook his head, “No, not dead, she was possessed while she was in a vision. I did the only thing I knew. I partitioned her mind…” Jonok slowly turned to the elderly cereash. “You did what?” “Jonok, it was the only way. If it had taken her body, her mind would have perished. This way, she can fight back.” Jonok’s hands balled into fists. “What do we need to do now?” he asked through clenched teeth. Talrot sighed, “You won’t like it, but we need to send her somewhere outside of anything she knows. It could take her a long time to overcome the demon inside her. If she wakes up and is in familiar surroundings, it may pull her free of the prison in her mind too soon, and then she is lost to us.” Jonok nodded. “I know a place,” Talrot continued, “a skrieve village. They are friendly people. They will care for her until she is free of the beast within her.” Jonok shook his head, “You want me to send her to live in the Land of Zargon, alone, with no memory of who or what she is?” Talrot nodded, “It must be done. She will still be able to protect herself. The skills she has acquired will still be with her.” Jonok wanted to say no with every fiber of his being, but knew Talrot was right. “You may do as you have spoken.” Talrot nodded, “I will take care of everything.”
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Post by Jonok Coldfury on Oct 8, 2008 18:24:55 GMT -5
Jonok paced back and forth in front of Talrot’s desk. Krag’s eyes followed him back and forth from his seat on the corner of the desk, and Talrot sat, rubbing his eyes. Jonok suddenly stopped turning toward the old man. “We have to do something! It’s been nearly two weeks!” Talrot didn’t move, “It’s been just over a week, my lord. There is no telling how long it will take.” Jonok leaned on the desk, looking down at Talrot, “She is defenseless!” Talrot stopped rubbing his eyes and slowly lifted his gaze. “You underestimate you daughter, Jonok. She is quite strong.” Jonok grunted as he turned away from the desk. “We must leave her there…” “No!” Jonok shouted as he tore his hat from his head and flung it across the room before spinning to face Talrot. “I will wait no longer! I lost my wife! I thought I had lost my daughter, too, but now that she is back, I will never lose her again!” he barked as he slammed his hands down on the desk.
Talrot slowly stood up, his face calm. “You’ve listened to my advise all these years and gone against your better sense to follow some of it, and now, when I tell you she must be left alone, you close me out. This goes beyond her. If you go and find her too soon, you might as well kill her and hundreds of thousands of the people of this land, because if Calana loses to that spirit, her spirit will die and the world will fall to the darkness. This is far too important. I sit here in my study wishing I hadn’t sent her away, but I did and we will not go to her. Not for a long time.” Jonok’s shoulders fell. “We must do something! Anything!” Talrot shook his head, “There is nothing we can do,” a smile spread across his face, “But there is something she can.” Jonok followed the old man’s gaze to the door.
An almost lanky yet still feminine form leaned against the door frame with her arms folded. She wore commoner’s clothes with a string lute strapped to her back. “Hello, Joey.” A small grin crept onto Jonok’s face, “Hello Jandri.” Jandri clasped her hands behind her back as she strode into the office, casually looking around as though she had just bought the space and was giving it a once over. As she stepped into the light, Jonok saw her fur had lightened slightly, but was still a dark, peppered grey. She stopped in front of Jonok, and they stood eye to eye. Slowly they brought up their arms and embraced, “It’s been a long time, sister,” Jonok said, most of the anxiousness in his voice had gone. “Aye, it has, little brother,” she replied.
“Why are you here?” Jonok asked as they took a step back from one another. “I sent for her,” Talrot butted in. Jonok looked over at him, confused. “I heard she had learned the ways of the ‘musical magician’,” he continued. Jonok looked back to Jandri. She shrugged, “I always did take after father. * I think I have a way to help you with your problem. I think I can reach your daughter without endangering her if she hasn’t conquered the spirit. And, she hasn't met me, so there's no danger of me sparking those suppressed memories.” Jonok looked to Talrot, “Could it work?” Talrot nodded, “I’ve been doing my reading and I can say with a great deal of certainty that it will work.” Jonok turned back to his sister and tried to speak, but his thoughts were moving too fast to form words. “I can leave as soon as you are ready to send me off,” she said with a sly smile. Jonok lept forward and wrapped his arms around her neck. The movement was so quick Jandri gasped in surprise and went ridged. Jonok shook ever so slightly, “Thank you, Jandri.” he said softly. She patted him on the back, “What are big sis’s for?” Jonok stepped back, clearing his throat and straightening his clothes. “Well, I hate to send you on your way so soon after you got here…” “I don’t mind, Joey, I don’t mind at all. We can catch up when I get back.” Jonok nodded. After recovering his hat and pressing it back down on his head, he led his sister to the hall of portways. As he fumbled with the ring of keys he spoke. "Jandri... you don't know what this means to me... I've been worried ever since I let her go... Thank you." He slid the key into the lock and gave it a turn and the portway opened. Jandri looked up at the opening of light, a tinge of fear in her eyes, but it disappeared and was replaced with purpose. She looked over at her brother and nodded, "She's alright... I'll make sure she is and that she stays that way." He returned the nod. Jandri faced the portway and stepped into the light and was engulfed by it.
As the door closed, a wave of relief flowed through Jonok. "She is safe."
* - Jandri Coldfury Darkeye. Normally, a girl child takes after her mother, taking on the traits of her mother’s clan. Jandri did, but she was also very interested in her father’s clan, the Strongskull, which is why she seeks understand the world around her, not just to blend into it.
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Post by Jonok Coldfury on Nov 9, 2008 21:23:15 GMT -5
Jonok had been pacing back and forth in Talrot's office, as he had done more and more frequently the past weeks, but now he sat in one of the chairs, fidgeting. The initial relief of sending Jandri had worn off and he was starting to worry about his daughter again. And unfortunately for him, his worries were about to increase. "I have it! Finally!" Talrot shouted as he burst through the door. Jonok jumped at the unexpected entry. Talrot had left for the main library of the magic quarter nearly an hour ago. He had returned with a large, dusty, crackly tome. He placed it on the desk and began leafing through the pages. "I fear the trails we have just overcome are but the foothills of the true conflict, Guardian. Are you familiar of the Legend of the White Warrior?" Jonok, still a little shaken from Talrot's entry, replied, "No... not really..." Talrot nodded, "I figured as much. Few alive now remember it for it was already a legend before the Fifth Clan left to sail across the sea. It is very, very old. It was said that when the world was endangered by an incredible power, a warrior would be chosen by the Spirits to fight for them, to protect the world and it's people." Jonok scratched his chin, "I'm not seeing the importance of this..." "That's because I'm not finished! Please, hold yourself until I'm done. Now, the reason this legend is important to us, is because of Calana's visions." Jonok sat straight up in the chair, "You opened her vision book?! That is the highest crime associated with a Seeress!" Talrot held out a hand and gave a stern look, "This time is different. I had already read her visions, because I had to write them down for her! It doesn’t matter anyway because I believe wheels have been set in motion that cannot be stopped. Now, be quiet!" Jonok slumped back, still fuming over the old man's rash behavior, and Talrot continued, "What I found was quite odd. You've heard the stories about Seeresses, how their visions benefit the people and guide them to prosperity, but Calana's are different. They are centered around places, objects and people, at least that's what I could make of them. I remembered reading something about this before and found it in this book the other day." Talrot explained as he pulled a book down from the shelf behind his desk. "A Mrs. Gurtra Sandsky Strongskull had similar visions. She lived long before the Fifth Clan left, in a time when the nation was already very prosperous, people were wondering why there was a Seeress. But the interesting thing is who she was married to, a Mr. Darmin Sandsky Skreivante. This is interesting because Mr. Sandsky was a White Warrior.” Talrot began to pace as he went on, “It wasn’t until years after Gurtra died that her vision book was opened and it was discovered that all the things she saw were meant to guide the Warrior in his quest. Had he not heard these visions he would have failed. Had he failed, the world would have fallen and we would not be here today.” Jonok’s eyes were expressionless behind the dark lenses of his goggles, “What does this have to do with Calana?” Talrot slumped down into his chair and sighed, “You are one of the most intelligent men I know, yet sometimes you are so stupid!! Calana’s visions are a guide for a White Warrior, which means?” Jonok sat forward after a moment of contemplation, “There’s a White Warrior out there right now, in need of her insight.” Talrot nodded, “Exactly. Thank you for renewing my faith in you.” “How would we find the Warrior?” “That’s the hard part, there is no way of knowing where he is and no way to know how long we have to find him.” “Then how will Calana find him?” “If I am right, she will be drawn to him. Even in the state she is in right now, she will probably be drawn to him, she will want to help him and she won’t know why.” “What about the Warrior, will he know he is needed or what he has to do?” Talrot sighed, “The legend doesn’t speak of it. It only speaks of how the White Warrior would prevent the end of the world. I assume fate would guide him toward his purpose, but I do not know.” The two of them sat in silence as the weight of the situation settled on them. Jonok broke the silence with the one question that Talrot preyed he would not ask. “What happened to Mrs. Sandsky… how did she die?” Talrot’s head dropped. “The path of the White Warrior is fraught with danger… and that danger is also endured by his Seeress, but when a decision must be made… the Warrior must come first.” Jonok looked down at his hands, “The few for the many, then?” he asked, fighting back the tears. Talrot looked across the desk at Jonok, not seeing the Guardian, not seeing a man, but seeing a father who cared for his daughter, “Aye, I’m afraid so.” Jonok pulled of his hat, “Her list of grief is already so long, and I am ‘shamed to say that I added to it, but will that list ever end? Childhood without parents, young life without love, what love she found was wretched from her arms by war along with her sight! And now she will be compelled to aid a man she has never met for reasons she cannot explain, willing to die in order for his life to go on. Why must one endure so much when so many endure so little?” Talrot couldn’t stand to see the man reduced to such a state, “She is strong! Do not worry, all things are written in the sand of time, but it can easily be blown about by the wind.” Jonok nodded as he stood, “It has been a long day… I think I will retire to my tower.” With a nod from Talrot and a wish of good feelings, Jonok left the study and walked slowly through the empty streets of Cornar, feeling more alone and vulnerable than he had in a very long time.
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