Marandici Caravan: 6 Desnus, 4742
Crouched behind a tree, Naqam looked on as his companions made their way past his position. Having watched both Lavitz and Xein on the team's journey to rendezvous with the caravan of the nomadic wagon folk that served as the mobile base of operations for the Knights of the Sihedron, the Osiriani warrior-mystic could not recall this degree of tenseness between the two. But he understood all too well the seriousness of what had transpired in Sirathu. Kuninin had nearly escaped from the arcane bindings that held him prisoner within Xein. This had not been the first time such a thing had occurred, but it seemed to be happening with increasing frequency.
His hand tightly clutching the crystal hilt he held, Naqam got up and sprinted ahead, keeping his movements parallel to his companions. As he kept pace with them, Naqam's thoughts went to a heated conversation he had held with the head of his order before leaving them. His master had tried to warn him that as beings capable of channeling the mystic energy of the universe, they were vulnerable to those very cosmic forces. The slightest mistep could cause a J'sevath to become a menace to those around them. At first, he had thought this sentiment to be nothing more than an excuse that the order merely hid behind to keep themselves apart from the rest of the world.
But now, after his experiences with Kuninin and Xein, Naqam was beginning to understand exactly what he had been told.
"Stand fast and be recognized!"
The call came from a dark haired man that stepped out from behind a tree. He was dressed as one of the Marandici, but Naqam knew him as Autrey, one of Lord Draxas' men.
Lavitz and Xein stood still, as did Naqam. As he watched Autrey approach his friends, the Osirian could not place what it was exactly but something struck him as being wrong.
Autrey the guard approached both the holy knight and the Chelish dreadblade cautiously, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Sir Kaisur? Is that you?"
The knight nodded, then removed his helm. "It is, Autrey. Is everything alright? I thought Bastian would be the one to meet us."
Autrey's pained expression said what his words could not. Xein took a tentative step forward. "What happened?"
The guard cast a glare Xein's way that made the Chelish man back up. "An assassin got 'im. And not just Bastian. Ancrym and Tanrov too. Even that uppity Taldan. All of 'em. To just one man."
"Calm yourself, Autrey." Lavitz approached the upset guard and placed a sympathetic hand upon his shoulder. "We all share the pain of this loss. But I cannot believe that nothing has been done about this. Does not Lord Draxas have the matter well in hand?"
"He and the Spherewalker have been interrogating the bastard since his capture."
"Just the two of them? No one else is sitting in on this?" Xein's words carried the slightest hint of alarm.
"At ease, Xein. Lord Draxas is more than capable of dealing with an assassin, no matter how powerful he may be. And if the Lady Reise is there as well, then your worries are even more unwarranted. Naqam can attest to the Spherewalker's skill in battle."
"Aye, that I can." The warrior-mystic had approached the small gathering without making a sound. "Though your heart is in the right place, Xein, I don't think we should worry overly about the safety of Lord Draxas or the Spherewalker."
Xein paused as though to speak but thought better of it and slowly, if but reluctantly, nodded his agreement.
Lavitz turned to regard Naqam, his eyes conveying his appreciation. He then looked back Autrey. "Lead on, good sir. We have much to tell our lord and little time in which to do it. For if I know him, Lord Draxas has more work for us to do."
"Gwyneth?" Reise was at a loss for words. "How can that be? Draxas thought her dead. I thought she was dead. She survived the battle with the Claimer?"
"It would seem so, Spherewalker. If you are ready, I can take you too her. She is eager to be reunited with her family once again."
"Draxas, is this not the most wonderful..." The rest of her words were left unspoken as she turned to look upon her friend.
Draxas, lost in his remembrance of that fateful day, that fateful encounter with Karzoug, did not notice Reise's concerned gaze.
But Guan did.
"How often does this sort of thing occur with him?" His words lacked any sense of sympathy, spoken as they were with such cool detachment. "If his mind is clouded in any way that could jeopardize this land's freedom..."
Reise, the Spherewalker, felt outrage that her former master would talk so about Draxas. But her face betrayed no sign of the feelings she was experiencing, only calm. "His mind is as sharp now as it has ever been since I've known him. You cannot possibly know the burden that he places upon himself, the guilt that he feels each and every day that passes. He has lost much to be here and stands to lose more. Who are you to question him?"
Guan sat silently for a long moment, his former student feeling uncomfortable under the cold hard stare of those eerie eyes. When he spoke again, those eyes did not change in the slightest.
"Who am I to question him? I am one that strives to make this sick world that we live in a better one. And if I am to have him as an ally, I would know that the one I stand with is not going to pose a danger to us all because his mind could wander at a critical moment."
Rising from seiza, Reise made her way to the flap of the tent, stopping only to speak once again to Master Guan. "He has me, and I will not let that happen."
"Your love for him is strong, child. Does he know how you feel?" When she did not answer, Guan continued. "I ask only because I am concerned for you, my student."
"We'll be fine. We'll all be fine." And with that, Reise made her way past Syeira.
Master Guan watched her as she left the command tent, then turned back to Draxas. "I hope so, child. The future of us all depends on it."
Xin-Shalast: 6 Erastus, 4708
Roku and Draxas looked first to where Alster's guantlets lay, then to Karzoug before finally turning to gaze upon one another. The two knew that Alster's loss, his sacrifice could not be in vain. And though no words were exchanged between them, none were needed. Such were their hearts at that moment they acted as one. The elan closed her eyes and immediately the temperature around her rose to such a degree that the air around her began to shimmer and dance. When her eyes opened again, they had gone from their usual bright liquid green to a hellish orange hue. Roku raised her hands and a roaring line of flame erupted before her, slamming into the floor where the prismatic barrier stood. At the same time, Draxas gestured, creating another blast of ebon fire, hitting the ground with considerable force. The combination of her flame and his eldritch blast proved to be more than the surface could withstand and soon a shallow trench was dug underneath the barrier.
The two spared but a moment to glance at one another and once more an unspoken understanding was reached. Roku ran toward the trench and as she drew close, dropped down to slide beneath the prismatic wall. When Draxas emerged, he found the elan still standing there, staring with awe-filled eyes. Following the direction of her gaze, he soon saw why...
Korvosa: 6 Desnus, 4742
The gathered cultists, the Children of Massif, were waiting for the tall one to continue. "We shall not refer to Malik by that title."
"But he is indeed the 'Sword of Vengeance.' He is what we made him to be." The tone was silky smooth, bordering on seductive. The second speaker continued. "To call him anything else would be to deny 'His' will. Is that what you would have us do?"
From beneath his hood, the tallest cultist leveled a withering gaze at the one that had spoken. "Have a care and remember to whom it is you speak. If you cannot do so, then I will be most willing to give you the proper instruction."
The second speaker stood defiant, but the gesture proved to be an empty one as the remaining four moved to stand by the tall one's side.
"I'll not suffer your feeble attempts to disparage me and cause dissent here. Chaos will be sown, but only as 'He' bids. How say you?"
"So say we all," intoned the remaining cultists.
"So say we all," repeated the second speaker, though there was obvious reluctance to do so.