Takira's Story

Takira was inconsolable, tears streaming endlessly down her face as she sat outside Mora's room. She was hunched on the floor, her forehead resting on her knees and arms wrapped around herself. She couldn't believe it, she simply couldn't! Who would attack Mora, who? She was so kind! Whoever it was, they would be brought to justice! She quieted for a moment, glanced over at the door, and burst into tears again, her tiny body shaking as she sobbed. Takira couldn't even find the strength to hobble out to the stables and see her horse, she was far too upset by the attack on her sister. She hadn't eaten, had hardly slept, she could barely drag herself off the floor despite her need to appear strong for her messenger birds that came to bring her news. It had to be one of the Old Gods, it just had to be!

Slowly, the door to the Inner Sanctuary opened, and out walked Mora's guard, Rolaf. Slowly he walked to the goddess, his armor reflecting the light as it hit him, and leaned over. Softly picking up the hand of the sad goddess to kiss it.

"Lady Takira... Lady Mora wishes to see you, but i must ask... that you leave your weapons here. We cant take another chance my goddess." Slowly he stood up, holding her hand still, and took her into the sanctuary.

The Sanctuary, a massive sphere of light created by Mora as her personal home. Inside it can be anything Mora wishes but, because of her weakened state, she chooses to only have a bed, nothing more, and there she lied.

In her bed she held the hand of the her younger sister, Takira's older sister, Caylim. With a weak smile, Mora held out her other hand to Takira. "Young one... It pains me to have you look at me in this state... Come to me... Come to your big sister." Her face was pale, with the scars truly showing now more than ever. Underneath she wore nothing but what she needed, for the uncomfertability of cloths was something she didn't want to hassle with right now, and as Takira walked closer, she saw for the first time, the stab wound in Mora's left side, exposed to help the wound breath.

Tossing her dagger aside, Takira ran to her sister's bed, forgetting all nobility, and threw herself to her knees beside the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, Sister Mora, Sister Mora!" she sobbed, holding Mora's hand tightly, "I swear, I shall find who did this to you, I swear it! I may not be strong, but I will ask all of my creatures to search far and wide for your attacker!" She felt foolish, being reduced to such a state before her sister's, but she could not help it, her heart burst with such feelings of sadness. "They shall not escape my fangs, my claws!"

"Oh, Caylim," she turned to her other sister, hiccuping her tears, her eyes swollen and red, "you will help me, won't you? You must, oh, please Sister Caylim!"

"Takira...Stop." Mora said placing her hand atop her little sisters head. "The thief is long gone... But before he was able to leave the temple i delivered him justice. He will never be able to use his right arm again, or walk for a while with his left leg, but notice how i say thief. He wasn't here to kill me, he wasn't trained to kill, he was trained to steal his target, and escape..."

"I fear he is one of the Old Ones, and has taken Banatrix..." She says with a blank stare, her eyes closing shut as she try's to channel her energy for a moment to look for the sword. With a sudden gasp of pain she grabs her side, letting out a loud shout from the pain. After regaining herself she grips Takire and looks down at her sister. "Listen to me young one... You were to young to remember the war with the Old Gods, but this time they will come back even more powerful... What you must do is go to Grim Forge... To the Black Anvil... Gather a group of humans and the other gods, sisters. If Banatrix is dropped into the fire's, the Old Gods will be released, and we will lose our only weapon to stop them.."

With a sigh, Mora softly closed her eyes and let go of her sisters hand, then turned to Caylim. "Sister... We can not lose the sword. Find my apprentice, Chachare, and a man named Athos, and bring them both to me. Athos is a shady man, but we can trust him. If he fights back, you know what you must do Caylim." With a smile Mora softly closed her eyes and lied back in her, soon falling asleep.

"Please my lady's, Lady Mora needs her rest. You may come back to see her tomorrow Lady Takira..." Rolaf says picking up the still sad goddess, slowly walking with her in his arms to the door. "That goes for you Lady Caylim." He says with a soft look into your eyes before walking Takira out of the sanctuary.

Caylim watched with soft eyes as her sisters spoke. She thought it better to remain a silent listener. Takira, although Caylim loved her dearly, was so quick to seek revenge. It was unwise to go running around the city looking for a one armed limping man. Caylim could only imagine the hysterics the people would get in to.

Mora gave them instructions on what to do, and Caylim nodded understanding her purpose. "If he fights back, you know what you must do Caylim."

Indeed she did. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she nodded. She was about to speak when Rolaf reappeared taking Takira with him. She was inconsolable to the point of being unable to walk. She loved Mora like a mother, which Caylim understood. Although the Moon Goddess looked older, Mora was the first New God. The one who banished the Old Gods and brought on the age of Peace. Caylim couldn't ask for a better older sister.

"Rest sister, we will be back soon." Caylim finally managed to speak. She released her sister's hand, releasing three yellow butterflies to keep her sister company. "Don't lose hope."

She stood from her knees and gave her sister one last farewell before exiting the room. Takira immediately ran up to her, crying into her shoulder. "It will be alright Takira. Now is not the time for tears. We must gather the townsfolk."

"Rolaf, send a messenger. We're looking for able bodied citizens. Don't reveal how dire the situation is, but tell them it is a special quest from Mora herself." She explained. "Quickly, we don't have much time."

Takira took Caylim's hand quickly, trying to smother her sobs, and stared up at her, "I know I am not strong. I know I cannot deliver justice, but...they've hurt her. I can't forgive them...I won't!" She remembered hearing Athos' name before; the birds often sang it on the wind, telling stories of how he hated the Gods, all of them. Takira sniffled again, and sighed, trying desperately to regain her composure.

"I shall...go and bathe before the guests arrive," she softly whispered, then dodged away towards her chambers, biting her tongue to stifle her cries of anguish.

Caylim sat in the marble tub, the clear water washing over her body. It was always important to clean oneself before being in the company of the humans. The goddess shuddered at the idea of them seeing her with greasy hair and muddy feet.

The smell of jasmine wafted into her nose and she sank into its sent. All flowers bloomed during the day, releasing their scent into the world. To be enjoyed by all. Except for jasmine. A beautiful flower that only bloomed at night, under the moon's watchful gaze. Caylim surrounded herself in it, giving her a piece of the moon even on the sunniest of days.

After a good long soak, Caylim climbed out of the tub, immediately donning a long dress with beads coming off the shoulder straps. She pulled a headband around her forehead, letting her wavy locks take the shape they chose.

Takira was still not ready. Probably crying in her tub, trying to clean her feet. They were always dirty from her adventures in the forests. Caylim stood in the hall between their rooms and waited.

Takira lay under the water of her deep tub, breathing easily through gills on her neck, staring distrustfully at her feet. They always seemed to slip out from underneath her whenever she wore shoes, which was why she was usually bare foot; however, if there were to be guests in the house, she had to appear actually goddess-like.

As she climbed out and dressed in a simple tunic and wrap-around sandals, she thought about what rumors were being spread about her through the human villages. People said that she had no right to be a goddess, since she did not stand for anything, like her sisters. She did not stand for hope, or justice; she was merely a glorified druid. Takira couldn't really argue with the things they said.

She walked out into the hallway, her hair still dripping and hanging heavy around her head. With an embarrased smile, she runs her fingers through her hair, smelling like forest air, and looks at her sister.

"Caylim...? I know I'm old enough to do it myself now, but...can you do that braid thing you used to do to my hair when I was younger? Pretty please?"

"Caylim...? I know I'm old enough to do it myself now, but...can you do that braid thing you used to do to my hair when I was younger? Pretty please?"

Caylim smiled at her and nodded. Takira was definitely old enough to do it herself, but it still pleased Caylim that her younger sister would still come asking for her help. Although Mora was the mother goddess and took care of everyone, Caylim couldn't help but feel like she needed to take care of her two sisters.

They were always off, doing who knows what, and it concerned the middle sister to no end.

Grabbing Takira's hand, Caylim headed to her bed chamber. Setting her little sister down at her vanity, Caylim immediately began working on her sister's tangled hair. It was always tangled, and covered with twigs and leaves. Caylim combed through the locks, careful not to cause her sister too much pain. It was difficult, since every five seconds the comb would catch a snag and Takira would wince in pain.

It took far too long to comb through Takira's hair, but once it was down Caylim immediately got set on braiding it. Takira's hair was longer, so the braid always stretched down her back. Caylim wished her sister would braid it more often, it would make it so much easier for her to take care of. Plus, it would be in a better shape after her runs through the forests. There might still be twigs and leaves in it, but at least there wouldn't be so many knots.

Caylim tied the end with a a dark ribbon to contrast her sister's white hair. "There, try not to lose this ribbon, okay?" She mused.

Their laughter was interrupted by another one of the faithfuls stepped into Caylim's chamber. "There is a visitor for Mora, but I though it be best that you saw him first." The young girl kept her head bowed as she spoke, afraid to look up.

Caylim squeezed her sister's shoulder and stepped over to the faithful. "Look at us when you speak, young one." Caylim smiled lifting the girl's chin. "It is disrespectful."

Exiting her chamber, Caylim was immediately greeted with a unfamiliar face. He seemed to completely contrast with the brightness of the castle, his darkness standing out.

"Can I help you with something young one?"

(For the plot conserning Mora, Athos, and Caylim, please post in the Inner Sanctuary. From here, the plot conserning Takrie, Zee, and the orgenization of the party to find the assassin.)

Takira paced the outer confines of her home, pouting slightly. She wished to be included with her sisters. She wished to see the man. The animal goddess never saw many men, the stories about them were terrifying. A group of wolves and blood-hounds ran to her feet, and she knelt down to send them off in search of this spy. Her creatures would find anyone meaning evil in her home, and she would certainly know about it if they did. As the pack dispersed to search, she edged towards the wall, calling vines to lift her up to a window, hoping she might see something interesting.

Nosy, Caylim called her, and curious said Mora. It wasn't either, really, it was just that Takira felt often left out of things since she was so young and small. She had not battled, being that she was too young and foolish; she had not been allowed into her sister's meetings because she was too young to understand; some elder animals still took longer to respect her, since she was young. She was definately a "New" God, and everyone made sure she new that.

Sometimes, she wondered what life would have been like had she not been adopted by Mora. Would her life have been peaceful, or full of hardships? Would anyone have hurt her, a simple forest druid? Would she have ever fallen in love?

Love certainly intruiged her. It seemed like such a mortal emotion, but she wanted to feel it. She loved her sisters, of course, but she wanted to feel true love, love that beat from her soul for another being, on she could hold and laugh with and...love. Completely preoccupied, she sighed gently, seeming to have forgotten what she was supposed to be doing in the first place.

Takira was singing and strolling along, her eyes on the sky, as they so commonly were. A tickle in the back of her throat made her cough a bit, but it wouldn't go away, and her brain pulled at her, telling her to retreat. Which, naturally, caused her curiosity to grow, and she pushed forward, growing ever nearer to the iron gates.

She froze in her tracks as she saw the root of her brain's distress. It was a man; or, what she guessed a man would look like, based off of stories and Rolaf and all. He just stood, stock still, and if she had continued on, she might not have noticed him. But now that she had seen him, she could not look away. He just stood. And that was more terrifying than anything.

"You," she croaked, and she rushed forward, looking almost boyish in her tunic and sandals, "why are you standing there? What want you in my home?" Her voice cracked, but she tried to stand tall, though her eyes were wide and wavering. Were men truly the monsters that the stories said they were? And where was Caylim, shouldn't she have been watching him?

"Don't move," she choked, and pointed her sacred dagger at him, though she hoped he not look to closely and see her limbs shake, "or I shall call my dogs and you shall be meat." Fear grasped at her throat and belly, yet she stood before him, wondering if a spell or curse would take hold of her once he laid his eyes on her.

The slayer of men and the terror of the fat and corrupt stood silently. He stood near the knight, the last of The Four. Rolaf spoke not a word to him when he had approached, instead merely giving him a firm nod. The assassin gave the guardian of the Gods a nod in return. Neither too interested in speaking to the other. The watchful guardian and the terror from the darkness had little in common. In fact more often than not these two individuals would be at odds with each other if they were to interact. Rolaf striding through the night hunting down the killer in the darkness while Athos watches from the shadows and stays a step ahead of his pursuer. Yet here, however they were unwilling allies. Standing side by side on a journey to save the world. It was then that Athos sensed the presence of another and their voice confirmed it.

"You," she croaked, and she rushed forward, looking almost boyish in her tunic and sandals, "why are you standing there? What want you in my home?"

Athos turned to face her just as she whipped out an ornate dagger and leveled it at his throat. The girl had a youthful young appearance, with a lithe build and skin white as winters first snow fall. The clockwork like mind of the assassin recognized the woman before him from the words of the faithful.

"Takira..."

Athos said in an ominous tone, unmoved by the blade pointed at him.

"Don't move," she choked, and pointed her sacred dagger at him, though she hoped he not look to closely and see her limbs shake, "or I shall call my dogs and you shall be meat."

Athos smiled knowingly at the hollow threat. The Patron of Animals and the Wilds in which they live was shaking like a leaf. Ever the pacifist she was not a killer and therefore feared the assassin for what he was. It amused Athos that here he stood before a God and the deity feared the mortal man. Athos took a step toward her, allowing the blade point to press to his throat. His gaze piercing, his expression cold and hard as a grave stone.

"Still your beating heart young Goddess. I have not come for you or your kin. I am your agent. Recruited by your elder Mora Ven. Now..."

Athos leaned in ever so slightly to emphasize his words. His dark and foreboding tone piercing the heart of the Forest Goddess and sending an icy chill down her spine. A single trickle of blood dripped down Athos' neck as he pressed the blade to his own throat.

"Allow me to grant you a small piece of advice Patron of the Forest. If you wish to kill me, do it with your Goddly powers. For a blade at the neck... is my domain."

Takira trembled and dropped the blade to the ground, staring at the droplets that ran from his throat. He had made himself bleed, offered himself to her blade, challenged her power...bravery was not the least of his assets.

"You...are here to help find who hurt Sister Mora?" she blinked at him innocently, then stooped to retrieve her blade and scuttle a few feet backwards. A thin yet powerful wolf came running to her side, teeth bared and fur prickling, yet calmed at a single touch from her tiny fingers. "Hush, caatina," the word was foreign, yet seemed familiar on her tongue, "it is peaceful here." Rumors were true, at least--she spoke the druidess language.

Turning her eyes back on the man, she smiled a bit shyly, "If you know my name, call me by it. You do not trust Gods, and the other humans say I should not be one. So treat me as a woman, and if I am too young for that title, call me a girl."

Athos alowed his eyebrow to arch in surprise at her response. Apparently even from On High the words of the mortals were sometimes heard as made apparent on this young Goddessess view of herself. Seeing herself as barely a woman let alone a God.

"Modesty?... From a God, I'm impressed. So tell me young Goddes-..."

Athos paused and a smile with some uncharacteristic warmth shiined through.

"Takira."

He corrected, using her name as she requested.

"What news from your brothers and sisters in the Pantheon? Who is joining us on this mission? Who do we wait for before taking up the hunt?"

Athos paused and his gaze flicked to the massive iron gates as if he could see through the gates themselves.

"Every second we delay our quarry widenes the gap between us."

He warned, his blood yearning to begin tracking his prey.

"I know not," Takira looked away, running her fingers absently through the wolf's fur, "I am not told these things. I am too young, they say." A sour expression covered her face; she was too young to do anything. Could not she fight as well as the others, with at least a little coaching? Annoyance clouded her eyes, and she stooped, whispering into her companion's ear, before allowing him to run off back towards the rest of the pack.

"Your name," she said, standing again, "if you said it, I did not hear it. What do I call you?"

Already having her belongings, Zee found the gate easily, a few figures present for the band as well it seemed. She held back, listening for a moment, hood up and golden eyes narrowed. She had never seen the youngest, the girl, though she could ascertain that she was another Goddess based on the aura surrounding her and the way she held her chin. She also recognized Athos, hearing the name a few times before and seeing the man only once in the dead of night. They conversed, the third male unknown to Zee.

Eventually she approached, marked palm placed firmly on the hilt of one of her scimtars under her cloak. She nodded as a greeting, deeming she need not say more unless addressed. The sooner they began the journey, the sooner she could find out what "gift" she would be receiving. Talking provided her with nothing more than inconvenience.

Whoever else they were waiting upon needed to hurry. Zee glanced about, impatience bending her brow.

Athos turned to the newcomer. He had felt eyes upon him but ignored it as a result of being in the busy town. Someone would nearly always be looking in your direction but his senses had proved a tad more atuned than that as the young woman approached verifying his suspicion. Athos turned to look at the woman in the gray and black hooded cloak. Her eyes gleamed with golden brilliance within the darkness provided by her cowl. Beyond that the only definable feature was her maroon colored hair that could only just be seen. She gave Takira and Athos a subtle nod in way of greeting to which the assassin made no attempt to return it. His eagle like eyes studied her carefully. He'd been in his line of work too long to trust strangers who just appeared nearby, pretending to be allies. She said nothing, instead taking up positon near the others as her hand smoothly settled on whatever weapon was hidden beneath her cloak. The move was subtle and casually made but Athos caught it. His own hands slowly went to rest on his belt, his finger tips brushing the razor sharp tips of his shuriken. His mind already moving ahead six steps, planning his moves should the girl deflect or dodge his first volley of attacks. Once his plan and several contingency plans for the bout that may or may not even take place finished which took all of a few seconds the assassin adressed the newcomer.

"You don't have the look of one of the dutiful members of Faithful who serve the New Gods and somehow I doubt someone like you took up the cause out of the goodness of your heart, girl. So what calls you to their aid?"

Athos asked darkly, his words cold. His perceptive nature unnerved many in his day to day dealings. His ability to read someones emotions, intentions, movements neared to precognition and was one of his strongest talents.

She was good. Careful not to give too much information away yet quick to not appear as if she was hiding something either. A skilled deciever. She did however give a tad more information than she needed with the reference of how she prefered the night. Her uneasyness in the sunlight and how carefully she kept to the shadows her massive cloak offered was a tell tale mark. "A Shadow Demon" Athos thought to himself. He'd had dealings with her kind in the past. There were more than a few Shadow Demons who earned their livings as assassins and as a result had run ins with Athos on more than one occasion. He recalled quite well their aversion to direct sunlight. His icy gaze focused on her as he tried to glean her true motives for joining their party. The mystery of Zee had begun and Athos was would unwravell the turth she kept from him. As was his nature. Prepared now to observe her closely for any signs of truth she may inadvertantly set free Athos crossed his arms across his chest and leaned on the gate behind him. He was a patient man but waiting for the Gods was something he'd given up on long ago.

"You ask who I am... That depends who you ask. Ask our stoic friend here and he will say I am just a killer."

Athos said referring to Rolaf.

"Ask the Patron of this city and she will say I am greater than the sum of my actions."

He said referring to Mora.

"You ask me?... I'm just a man stuck in a game he does not want to play.... I am Athos."

Zee nodded. "The game of life...I knew one who had the same attitude."

Matching his posture, she leaned against the gate as well, fiddling with her cloak but keeping eye contact. "I see it as a game as well...though most see it as a team sport. United entities fighting one another. I choose to side for myself and only myself."

Her eyes scanned the other two at the gate who had yet to speak. She gave a toothy grin, a shadowed smile.

"Caring for others deems one's self vulnerable."

She turned back to Athos.

"You wish to not play however. Here you stand however. A player. A piece on the chess board. A pawn perhaps, your death meaningless in the long run? Though part of the grand picture...You do not wish to play. Why are you here at all? Why not end it?"