"Wooooow... look at that!"

"Put that down, Caerd! If he wakes up, he'll be angry!"

Strange, those words were clearly in the common tongue... but the pronounciation seemed a little off...

Stranger still that such a trivial thing would be his waking thought.

With a grunt, the filthy, blood-matted armoured bloke who had been conspicuously laying unconcious in the wheat fields gave a stir, covering the open wound in his side as he sat up with some effort.

"Caerd..." The voice of whoever was sitting next to him sounded suddenly meek.

"Oh come on, Elth, look at him, he's as good as dead!" The other voice, obviously a boy's, seemed a little further away.

Squinting his eyes to try and force the haze out of his vision, Artur finally got a glimpse of his surroundings; crops as far as the eye could see, a little girl sitting next to him with a mixed expression of worry and horror on her face... and a boy a few years older running about, waving a sword around like a wildman.

His sword.

Clearing his throat into his free hand with little semblence of subtlety, the Themian reached out and spoke in the blunt manner his people were known for to the boy who had opted to freeze in place at the sound of the really-quite-still-alive man.

"Give it back, kiddo."

Timidly, the boy obliged, and using the blade to pull himself up as the girl tugged on his arm, the man got to his feet. Still somewhat groggy, he steadied himself on the sword and let out a breath, trying to regain his bearings.

"Hey... is something burning?"

_____________________


The rain had cleaned Artur off somewhat, washing away most of the blood, grime and ash he'd been caked with when the children found him. Under afore-mentioned grime, there was a apparently a face; one that would be considered decidedly handsome if not for the assorted nicks, scars and stubble more easily associated with men of the more 'rugged' type. Not that he put much thought into it or cared at all for that matter. Below his facial bits were nothing particularly out of the ordinary; a well-worn soldier's uniform consisting of chainmail, a tunic and a breastplate, a shield on his back, sword at his side and a tauth, the symbolic scarf/sash garment worn by Themian warriors, wrapped over his shoulders bearing his clan's colours and symbol.

Still covering his wound with his left hand, his right ran through his hair (which was brown and cut very short in the old army tradition) as his grey eyes searched his surroundings trying to gage where and, more importantly, when he'd been deposited.

"IT WAS SO COOL, MOM!" The boy exclaimed, bouncing up and down excitedly in front of his parent "We found this guy in the fields and he was all unconcious but then he woke up and was all 'GIMME BACK MAH SWORD, KID.' and then there was fire and he picked us up and ran and I mean RAN, like faster than anyone EVER, then the ground started shaking and it started pouring and he fraggin' JUMPED OVER THE FLAMES and we landed here and hey we don't actually know your name, what is it?"

The Themian just stared at the boy as he spun a complete 180 degrees and stared him in the eyes, mouth agape in shock at the sheer speed at which he'd shoved so many words out of his mouth without even an instant to stop for breath. It took a few seconds to register that the boy had just asked him a question.

"My name is Artur, of the Ap'Cai clan" he dumbly replied in his archaic accent


(Holy damn, that was long, probably full of errors and run-ons but now it is DONE. x_x;)

((Furthermore, I'm assuming that by this point 'Artur' would be a common name in Hais that'd raise little suspicion and not ruin the fun when I whip out the 'SURPRISE! I'M AN ANCIENT HERO! 8D' card.))

Grall pretended not to notice the foolish beings clumsiness but to say he didn't see the puppet she was holding would be a pitiful lie. However, there was no benefit for the General to acknowledge it so he would simply make a mental note for now. He glanced over to make sure the prince was still close by and was not trying to sneak away. Grall was pleased to see him just up the hill talking with the other two peasants who had helped put out the fire. Wait... one of them looked different from the average commoner. He motioned towards the three and said, "Come on' Shade! Get a move on."

He ushered her in front of him with his Axe and approached Tidus and the others. As he got closer, he began to realize the other commoner was in fact not Haisan, but a Welsh Elf. He shoved his way into the ground, grunting as he did so, "Come my Liege, it is past time for us to be home." The sun was fading quickly and the group needed to move if they were to reach the capital by nightfall.

Ilara turned her attention from the hammer-wielding flame-bringer to the young prince. She knew of him, having woven herself in and out of the country for the past few years and the earth-shattering man that came trudging up to him must be his warrior. How odd that they would have a Shade in tow.

Snapping out of her travelling thoughts, Ilara gazed piercingly at the Earth warrior before turning back to the Prince to respond. "Just where do you plan on going and why do you need the lot of us?" She glanced at the rag-tag grouping and arched her eyebrow delicately, her staff planted firmly in the ground next to her. "I am trying to help the border people of your country which have received no help from their own people. If your matters are not more important than I vote to be left behind."

Ilarasinria would not disobey a foreign dignitary (if for no other reason than not to incite hostilities against her people) but she wouldn't give in to their every whim either.

Iaetus' face tightened in pain as the elven lady spread some ointment over his hand. it must have been a healing agent of some sort, because his hand was feeling better, though still throbbing slightly.

Than the elven maiden introduced herself as Ilara as another man walked up, asking for his name.

"My name is Iaetus." He replied to the pair of them.

As the man spoke, Iaetus listened. He couldn't quite place it, but he was sure this man was important, seeing as he was being followed by... General Grall?

Than this young man.... must be Prince Tidus!
Iaetus realized this just after Grall spoke. "Come my Liege, it is past time for us to be home."

Iaetus fell to one knee in front of the prince. After all, he was royalty.

"Your majesty," He said. "I would be honoured to accompany you. So, what do you mean by bypassing the law of induction?" He was beginning to understand something big had just happened with him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Ekune snatched up the puppet, wrapping it hastily in the blanket, her hands protected and hindered by her floppy sleeves. Careful not to let her claws get stuck in the ground this time, she trotted up to walk in front of Grall when she was ordered to. She tucked the bundle beneath her left arm and pulled her hood down a little more with the other to block the sun which was just starting to peek out from behind the clouds. Her guts wrenched; she knew she couldn't get out of this one, not no how, not no way. Or was it the other way around? Where did I hear that phrase anyway? she thought. Her spirits lifted just a bit; at least she knew that she could take her mind off of her troubles for a little while.

The two stopped near a few people: an elf, someone with a hammer, and another person who looked important. She shifted her bundle between a few positions while they spoke, trying to find the most comfortable way to hold it. A little while later, the man with the hammer kneeled down to the important-looking person, so she assumed he was royalty. His presence made her even more uncomfortable. She had heard that many kings were quite evil, and just the thought what he had in mind for her punishment made her shudder.

The water was crystal clear with no indication of having a bottom. The surface did not move and was placid. In fact, it appeared there was no water their at all, but in this realm, appearances can be deceiving. The young man, dressed in a long flowing white robe stood patiently beside the well of water. The large gruff man standing beside him was obviously not as patient as his companion as he shifted uncomfortably under his tight fitting robe.

"Well?" He said finally. The younger man snapped out of his trans and gave a quick glance at the words.

"Nothing yet. This is a sacred process."

"Fine. Well, you sit here with your 'sacred' process while I go attend to something more noteworthy." The large man turned to leave, peeved that he had wasted so much time here already and mumbling under his breath.

"But... the Old One said..." The young man started as he tried to find the words to keep his companion there.

"Listen and listen well," The mountain man said as he turned to face his follower, "The Old One is... ohh how should I put it. Senile... in his old..." He stopped his rant and looked beyond the young man and into the pool as the waters rippled without being touched. He starred blankly, unsure what to do. The young man followed his stare and his face lit up. He rushed towards the water and looked inside to see the scene of a burnt field.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... I count six possible finds." He said proudly. The large man looked into the waters, his face blank until he noticed something, or someone. He cracked a grin.

"That is him." He said pointing to a man rising with his sword.

The younger man looked unsure. "Why?"

The large man turned and said,

"Because that is Artur, my chosen pupil."


Tidus listened intently as the newcomers presented their names. The elf intrigued him, mostly because he has seen so few that were not here for relationship purposes between the two nations. At the sight of the kneeling man, Tidus became nervous. He never liked servitude in this matter and it always made him feel like a bulls eye was painted on his back every time someone did this. Grall then appeared with a captured Shade. Tidus grinned as he thought about today's events thus far. He met an elf, a shade, a flint (fire wielder), and was now going to take some of them back to the Capital. Who knew what adventure could come from such a wide various group.

"Please Sir, refrain from such actions while out in the wilderness like this. The only time where that is needed, is in the presence of a higher power, such as my father or brother." Tidus placed his hand on the blacksmiths shoulders as if to say, "Feel free to be yourself."

"As for you Ilara... I will not force you to do anything you do not wish, but be warned... a wondering rouge elf is not easily ignored in my country. I could easily give you amnesty from a King's seal, but that would require you coming back with me." He turned and looks at Grall and nodded. He gave a quick glance over the Shades body. She did not appear to have evil intent but Grall had always warned him of the Shades skill in deception. He choose not to speak to her at this time and turned to leave the now burnt fields. He would have to make a mental note to have some sort of compensation given to the owner for his loss.

Ilara arched her eyebrow at the flame-bringer as he hit one knee in reverence to his prince and she caught herself before she rolled her eyes. There was only one thing that she held any deep-rooted respect and that was the Avatar she worshipped, but she understood monarchs. So, Ilara bit her tongue until the Prince spoke to her but didn't quite have a chance to reply before he turned his attention to the hammer-wielding man then stalked off. More curious than anything, Ilara turned her glance to the man, who was still kneeling, and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Looks like your liege has plans for us." She laughed musically before walking off behind the Prince.

Irina had watched the spectacle from inside a nearby barn. She had seen the people work together to put out the fire, as well as the unfortunate Shade. Something like this peaked her interest, and she carefully snuck outside the barn and behind the group walking away. As she passed from the barn, a mold that had been growing in the damp haystack dried up and died. She quickly cast a spell to make her forgettable; all those who saw her would not remember her passing.