OH DEAR GOD.

How long has it been since I've updated? Or for that matter slept. I miss sleep.

However, this fic has been placed on a mini-hiatus while I get over my GCSE's. I will get through em. Even if it KILLS me.

Oh, and it will.

And its chapter Seven! Yay me!

And even more amazing, its looking more than likely that I'll actually finish this…

For the first time ever…

IMPORTANT!

ANYTHING WRITEN LIKE THIS: BLAH is someone speaking in a different dialect.

Parts of the following story will be written in Sign Language, and some passages of the story will be concentrating on how s/he 'Speaks' in this language. (Hand movements, etc.)

All the sign used in this story is BSL, British Sign Language. It may be not exact though, cos its hard to write. You get the idea, though.


Dark Jak stumbled forward, moaning and tossing his bloody head from side to side. Once the fiery rage had cooled, it had been replaced with red-hot agony blazing from its damaged eye-socket. Somehow –Dark wasn't sure how- he had found his way into Haven's sewers. It blundered through the darkness, howling as stagnant water seeped into his gore-smeared wounds. His beak, fractured in thousands of tiny places emitted a stream of syllables intelligible to anyone near, but the meaning was clear and the harmonic sang of pain.

Help me

Finding a wall it pressed its head against its slimy surface and prayed to any dark goddess listening to ease its agony in its broken body.

Miraculously, the pain disappeared.

Then came back with a vengeance.

Dark screamed and its guttural howl echoes around the tunnels, sending the kanga rats scuttling for cover.

HELP ME!

And then slumped, the light in its one remaining eye fading as death claimed its soul, and dragged it to whatever abyss in hell it had reserved for itself.


Maia leaned over the pool, watching the Dark spirits last laboured breaths bubble out of its battered frame. Behind her, Gol sorted through the chunks of burnished precursor metal, separating them into two piles.

Seeing that their plaything was at last, dead, she picked up the tatty notebook at her feet and lazily flicked through the pages. It was a re-rite of a manuscript written by both of them 500 years ago. Gruesome pictures of semi-dissected lizards stared fixed in mid-twitch as pencil drawn eco sparks traced its way across their charcoal sketch body. Metals and their properties were listed to one side of these, and other results and anomalies, such as the formation of a glowing, stony tumour on their foreheads were pencilled in.

Her eyes hovered over a sires of pictures showing how one type of lizard –a desert gecko, would morph if exposed to enough eco…how strips of pig iron could be 'wielded' to its frame... to form a beast stronger, and more loyal, than ordinary lurker grunts.

However, what should have been killers, over time had become obsolete. She picked up the jar of eco and put in a bag…a little too hard. She them watched as the eco leaked out of the now shattered jar, and set about corroding the sac. Turning away from the bubbling mess on the floor, she began helping her brother.

When they had both finished their work, they walked back to he pool in the centre of the room, and dived in. Allowing the life-blood of the planet to carry them to Haven, the two Dark Sages felt themselves becoming a little closer to their goal.


The small group skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, scree and loose pebbles. Whilst the leapers behind her mount wittered in distress and fanned their wings worriedly, Seem stepped down and turned to her entourage.

"I'll go. We don't want to risk being detected…and I can fight…acceptably. I want two monks to wait for me here, along with three leapers."

Here she bowed, amongst the worried murmuring of her underlings.

Two wry male monks flanked her, the one on the right holding the reins to the spare pack-beast.

"Ya ken wha tha lass said. Go on." Said the one on the left, named Flot, his heavy Irish-Scottish accent remarkably soft and gentile.

"Aye, tis nary a laughing matter when ye noo folla her ruooles." Added the other man, in the same type of accent but in a more burly tone, less suited to his profession.

Seem wrinkled her nose. "Ach, forgive ma brother, Jet, Seem, 'e wus only havin a wee bit ta fun."

Seem nodded and walked towards the temple. Behind her the nervous leapers sped away, whilst the brothers Jet and Flot put a comfortable distance between them and the temple, and sat down to watch.

Seem walked up to the solid, precursor metal-lined doors and concentrated, putting herself into the prayer position. With her eyes closed she wove her fingers in front of her face, leaving little trails of light eco in their wake. The bronze Ying-yang symbol twisted and sank into the metal inlay. The doors then swung inward, and without any hesitation, the woman gilded forward through the doors.

The deeper Seem ventured into the temple, the angrier she grew. The bare stone walls that formed the corridor walls were stripped of their metal covering, by someone chipping away the stone underneath. Statues lay twisted, smashed and broken, and the oily stench of liquid Dark Eco

Hung heavy and obtrusively in the air.

After an hour of wandering through the temple without results, seem spotted a shallow grow in the now stone floor, like something extremely heavy had been dragged across its surface. Looking up, she saw ugly scratches in the stone above.

Then she carried onwards, scuttling up a set of stairs ahead. On the edge of her hearing, distorted by echoes, was a myriad of noises- banging, roaring screeching, and as she reached the top, she saw the source.

Hundreds- it looked like hundreds at least, of metals heads were caged in the top floors. Some, like the scorpions, were stored tightly packed in iron cages. Other, more humanoid metal heads were locked away in makeshift cells. To Seems right, an old altar was being used as an operating table…for live vivisection. The latest victim lay in mid-writhe, blood drying and congealing around it.

Turing away, feeling sick, she peered into the next cell and saw…

Jak.

Pulling away the five dead bolts on the cell door, she ran to her acquaintance's side…and very nearly had her face caved in by Jak's fist. His knuckles, inches away of her pale face, were withdrawn. Jak pushed himself upright painfully, shaking slightly.

"What happened Hero?"

Jak shook his head.

"Please, please Jak", she begged stressing his name, "You have to tell me. Have to"

Jak shook his head, and pointed on his throat.

Seem only looked confused.

Jak paused, then tried a different tact. Facing Seem he pointed at her then slowly rotated his palms over each other. He prayed that over 500 years SSL – Sandover Sign Language, hadn't change much.

He repeated it.

You. Sign ?

Seems eyes lit up.

"Yes, I used it in the monasteries when I was under my vow of silence. It was a way of getting round it. Some of the spells require HSL anyway…"

Jak swept his palms over each other, linked his pinkies and then tapped his open palm with his index finger.

H . S . L ?

"Haven Sign Language. Will you tell me now what happened?"

Jak shook his head, then allowed his fingers to dance over each other.

No Time - We Go Now…G-O-L and M-A-I-A Coming Soon. Danger. Leave. Here Jak paused, waiting for Seem to catch up with his sign, clipped from his mild panic. I Need Help Walking… he added, slightly embarrassed Can't Walk On My Own.

Seem nodded and helped him upright. With her support, they both tottered out of the cell.


"Damn, blue-boy. I mean damn. You scared?"

The Blue Sage behind her twitched ever so slightly. "Yes! I mean no! I mean, just kill the thing."

The "thing" in question was a kanga rat, making its ugly scuttling way along the street. It seemed completely unconcerned with the chaos its little self was making.

"Why? It anit doin me no harm." Observed the Yellow Sage unhelpfully.

"Kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it."Shirked the man.

"Now darlin, aint it my job to scream like a girl?" Chuckled the human shield, unslinging a sniper rifle and lining up the rat in her sights. Then, remembering the barbed comment at their first meeting, shifted her aim slightly.

Her bullet pinged off a rock behind the vermin, sending it squeaking and hopping towards the two. Blue howled in fear as the tiny rat got closer to them. Giggling, Yellow stepped forward and swept the rat up in one hand by the tail, and waved infront of her new "friend".

"Now, Honey, you can bet I'm gonna remember this." She said, tossing the creature over her broad shoulder. "Blackmail, ya' know?" she added helpfully. The doors behind them opened with a hydraulic hiss, and a lone man on a leaper rode in. Yellow stepped in front of her victim protectively, and dropped her rifle on the floor. Reaching into her volumous coat, she pulled out another, this one more worn and larger.

More dangerous.

What's that? Hissed the Blue Sage behind her.

"Ma baby, Morning Glory"

"What?"

"High explosives. Now, less talk, more shush."

"WHAT?"

"What part of shush don't you understand?"

Hissing to himself about insanity under his breath, the Man shuffled backwards into the shadows.

"Hello Trigger." Intoned the man in a slow voice. He seemed to take great care to pronounce every syllable available.

"Rowdi! Gawd, don't DO that!"

Now he stepped into the light, they could see the details…the ruddy face, the ruby tinted clothes, the massive frame. He was, very obviously, the Red Sage.

"So-rr-y. Him?"

"Hmm? Oh, him, Rowdi" (Here she reached back and dragged the protesting Blue Sage) "Meet the current Blue Sage…" she trailed off and looked at the man dangling from her grasp. "Sorry Honey, what did you say your name was?"

The Sage in question pulled away from Trigger and straightened himself. "I didn't." he muttered to himself "Well, well,wellwellwell-" his two fellow Sages watched as his hands made emphatic gestures, each hand mirroring the other. "I, well, I am known as Bolton Springdew, from Kras City. And you, well, wellwell, what are your names?"

The Yellow Sage laughed. "You already know my name, Bolt, its Trig, Trigger, Triggy, whatever ya want. Nuthin more nuthin less. From Sparagus."

"Trigger? Don't you have a surname?"

"I used to. Not anymore."

Bolton let it drop. "And you…? Rowdi, wasn't it?

"Rowdent O'Nigh. Rowdi will be fine."

"Who are we waiting for?"

Trigger raised two fingers. "The Keeper, Mar, and the Green Sage, uh, Samos something-or-other"

The leaper beside Rowdi squawked happily as it devoured a Kanga rat that had been creeping close. Bolton's blue cheeks turned green as he watched the spectacle. Unexpectedly, a strangle sound graced the air for a second, and Rowdi's leaper stopped looking for more vermin, raised its head and returned the call.

"Sounds like a pack o' Leap-Lizzies ta me. Dem Critters alwus call ta one or nother." Said the Yellow Sage to the Red.

"A…pack?" Asked Blue.

"Monk folk, they breed 'em. Monk travel with packs, don't dey, Rowdi?"

The Red Sage shrugged.

A loud humming was heard as a red-painted desert cruiser blasted its way towards Sparagus.

"And here comes our last Sage." Muttered Trigger to herself.

Till next time folks!