…Dark Wings, Dark Secrets…
"In only a single day, your life can change forever. Maybe it will be tomorrow. Wake up!"
Danna woke me from my sleep on occasion. It was those times that I dreamed of Voltaic's friends and their harsh words were so loud my ears still hurt even after I woke up. Again, all meaning to the conversation was lost, but they were angry at each other or at me. The following day was usually a long one. Those became the days I requested my group to take another cleric; my focus was too easily broken then. Danna would often sit with me, brush my hair or hold my hand in quiet as we sat in the breeze. It was when the two of us went to Soteria Sanctuary to help the Reians a bit that our secrets grew deeper. We were alone when he walked straight into us, a dark-skinned Asmodian with a blade in either hand. Danna and I were on the defensive, weapons drawn. One claw captured all our attention as it pointed at me and beckoned. Caution gave way to curiosity when he spoke my name. Our defenses were too low that a sorcerer was able to sneak behind and sleep spell us both. They were yelling when I woke up, but the words did not fade as I opened my eyes. Danna and I were in a small Asmodian camp, secluded out of sight of anything but the Ingisson night sky. Red eyes flashed at us but no weapons were barred. Voltaic was there, handing me fruit and drink. Danna was still being slept, the cloud of a spell ever-present over her form as the sorcerer sat with tome open. Voltaic's eyes held such concern that I knew he was a good man. His comrades bickered in their language for hours while I sat and pieced together that it was Danna's presence that upset them. The assassin from earlier was nursing a wound, the cleric shouting fervently at him that I knew where the injury came from. A clawed hand sought mine and I conveyed to the spirit master all that I could through gesture. He understood my friend was acceptable in their camp, and spoke as much, I presume. She was bound and weaponless; the sorcerer closed his book and they let her wake. She struggled against her bonds, but quieted when I told her to stop.
The purpose of the gathering was still unknown to us but it became a laughable situation. Tension was so thick I doubt an arrow could have pierced the air in our circle. Danna and I were separated in case we thought to fight two-on-four. The Asmodians spoke very curtly to one another and focused on their food rations or pets. The sorcerer was silent most of the time, nose buried in a book with glasses slipping slowly down his nose. He said his name was Riven, to which both Danna and I looked at each other in confusion before looking at him. He repeated that his name was Riven, the Elyan words being warped by Asmoth accents. I responded with my own name, and thus began a very slow process of learning the others' language. The cleric was unhelpful, bitter words cutting Riven off whenever he had an excited moment of understanding. Clearly, she was dragged on this venture. To express some of my words, they would let me move about without restraint; they trusted me at Voltaic's word but kept my friend bound.
Going to sleep was a difficult process. I recall having a guard at all times, away from Danna and her guard, and two Asmodians slept in the center. Thoughts raced through my head, questions that kept me awake long into the night. What were they so desperate to ask that they camped in enemy territory to swap words? Was it so sensative in nature that they could not seek a translator in their dark capitol of Pandaemonium? Had Relee noticed that neither Danna nor myself had reported back? How long would it be before the Asmodians had their answer that we could return? Would Relee come hunt for us in our own homeland or search Gelkmaros?
The next two days were the same, of tense circles and constant phrases of words that were easy to explain. As exciting as it was to exchange words with them, my fears were persistent, growing larger with each hour that Relee did not hear from us. Unless they intended to kidnap us entirely, whisk us away to Gelkmaros or some other territory, it was foolish to stay camped as we were. The subtlety of their mission would be ruined the moment we returned, and clearly it must be delicate in nature else they would have truly trapped us somewhere safer from Elyos. The only conclusion was their need for our cooperation, which was given, and the need for language. That was the limiting factor - how fast we could learn. Danna and I spoke quite casually in front of them with words we suspected they did not have written down in Riven's book. Her concerns were the same as mine, that Relee would notify Sanctum and that the whole legion would burst through the trees. Better yet, what would we say when we were released? Relee would certainly demand some explanation for our disappearance and he was not going to accept, We were teaching Asmodians how to speak Elyan. It sounded too much like, We are traitors making our enemies better spies.
The dark sorcerer and Voltaic were quite comfortable with the two of us Bloodwings after those first few days, letting their guard down in front of us that we would see them relax, weaponless, and bicker playfully. Maybe weaponless is the wrong word to apply since Asmodians can claw you to death as well as, if not better than, any Atreian beast, but neither took their tome with any urgency. The assassin was wary but fascinated with us, I think, whereas the cleric outright detested us. Her presence was unexplained since her eyes glowed with deadly intent quite frequently. Danna and I surmised she was either a very close friend, lover or a relative of one of the others.
Going to sleep on the fourth night, I waited until Voltaic was my guard. I spoke his name softly and his wind spirit came padding over to nose my face. As best as I could on the stiff ground, I drew the symbol for cleric and for gladiator, pointing at myself and Danna respectively, and making a tree to suggest two of many. At the top, I drew the symbol from my legion cape and the symbol for assassin, pointing at his comrade. Voltaic watched, and we sat quietly for a time as he solved my message. It was a challenge, but I had to convey to him with what few Asmoth words I knew that our time here was an ever-growing threat back home for us. He gestured he was thinking, and for me to sleep. My dream that night was in both languages, and while I understood everything that was said, the conversations did not follow each other. All of the Elyan was of Bloodwings and the Asmoth of the balaur, and I was the only one who seemed to know we were having two completely different conversations.