"Cyper, is this the one?"

Growling deep in his throat, he peered down at the pitiful villager bound and pinned down before him. Cyper narrowed his eyes, shook his head. "Nay," he grunted to the lithe woman, holding the village man, as she glared up at him through a curtain of auburn bangs. "He is not the one."

"Then what shall I do with him?" asked the woman in a sickly sweet, tinkling voice.

Cyper shrugged disconcertingly. "Do whatever you want."

As Cyper turned and walked from the two, the unfortunate villager gave a strangled cry of pain that made him shudder in pleasure. Talla always was the vicious one. Such a ruthless killer, yet such a vital asset to their quest, she deserved the title of Pureblood.

He entered a small hut, peering in as he lent upon the door frame. It was a dank and musty little place, probably the dwelling of some smith – Cyper didn't usually differentiate his victims. In the corner sat an old clay oven, and on the walls hung an assortment of tools: hammers, tongs, cudgels, blades. On the center of the floor stood an old fire-blackened anvil, used for pounding metals. Cyper grinned as he spotted the object. Stepping towards it he flexed his muscles, gripping the sides of the thing firmly in his hands. Then, in one great heaving movement of rippling muscle and sinew, he hefted the metal weight, and sent it careening through the opposite wall. It crashed through and went a considerable distance for something of its weight before crashing heavily into the side of another building.

A loud laugh escaped his mouth as he examined the hole he had splintered in the solid wooden wall, running a hand over the jagged piece of broken maple. The man had always enjoyed testing his strength, showing it off, making his comrades know that he was the leader of this expedition. And they respected that.

"You never change, do you," boomed a voice from outside.

Cyper stepped through the hole and faced the form of a massive man, a broad grin plastered over his wide face. He smiled back and smoothed his raven hair back with both hands. "So, Lyre," he said. "Where have you been off to?"

The man, who stood at least two feet taller then Cyper, shrugged his squared, muscle-bound shoulders. "Searching," he replied simply.

"And any luck?"

"None at all."

A slight wind swept past them. Cyper sighed inwardly and scratched his forehead. "Every time we seem to get closer, the Oracle always seems to slip from our grasp again and again."

Lyre shook his heavy head mournfully. "Tis a shame, it really is, Cyper. I want this as much as you do though, so remember that. And, by the Hell Gates themselves, I swear we'll find it, no matter what."

Cyper suddenly found himself grinning at his vast companion. His hand suddenly found the hilt of his sword, the cool, smooth pommel stone reassuring against his palm. Lyre looked at him expectantly, dark eyes fixed upon his cohort's cool expression.

"I heard something though, from a man I just shortly put out of this miserable world."

Hand clenching his sword excitedly, Cyper could hardly keep the anticipation from his voice. "What did you hear?" he urged.

Lyre's expression became suddenly serious. "I heard of a half-demon and his traveling party, a group of six. They are quite well known in these parts."

"And what of them?"

"Well, they are in search of the fragments of an ancient jewel, one with great powers. The people in these parts say that there is a girl with them, a strange girl who wears cloths like no others. Some articulate that she is a Time Bender."

The grin that broke across Cyper's face was far from pleasant. He glared up at Lyre, a triumphant glitter in his striking green eyes. "This could be the one," he muttered, his voice strained by excitement. "Time Benders are extremely rare as we know. Lyre, the Oracle could be much closer then we thought."

"Did I hear you correctly, Cyper, The Oracle, nearby? How do you know?" Talla's voice floated down to them from the roof of the hut.

Both men nodded enthusiastically. Talla bared every perfect tooth in a glittering smile. She dropped down beside them and landed with natural liquid grace. "Shall we move on then?"

"Aye."

Cyper nodded unreservedly.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Talla suddenly produced a small glittering object and held it out for her companions to see. "I thought this might interest you, Cyper. I found it on one of the villagers."

Cyper took the object from her palm and held it between his index finger and his thumb, examining it for a moment before looking to Lyre, who in turn shrugged apologetically. The man stored it in his pocket and looked at both Talla and Lyre in turn.

"Which way do we suppose this half-demon and his travel party are?"

"They were last seen heading in the direction of the Ox-Tiger."

"Then that is where we shall head also….Soon enough, the Oracle shall be ours, and prophecy fulfilled."