Khrae
Khrae sat motionless in the courtyard, contemplating what he'd just experienced. The answers he received through his meditation were usually fairly cryptic and ambiguous, but this... With a heavy sigh, the man closed his eyes again, allowing his mind to clear once more. He wouldn't continue his meditation, but instead he decided that he'd focus on trying to make sense of--
'You must hurry, in that condition you won't last long.'
Yes, that.
.. Wait.
Khrae opened his eyes again, looking around in a bewilderment. No, it couldn't be... But, yes. There it was again, that voice. Had he really just heard that voice again? It was ancient, dark and powerful, but most importantly, it was still talking.
...Why was it still talking?
Perhaps then it was someone else... Someone who was speaking, but they had managed to break through the man's concentration, their words thus becoming distorted... But the courtyard was empty. It had been so ever since Dante had attempted one of his usual tricks, and the man was certain that this couldn't be just another of the boy's games. Besides, the man's concentration wasn't something easily broken. For whatever reason he'd received this particular message, and normally that wouldn't be strange in the least, as he usually openly accepted whatever answers he was granted, but then normally they didn't follow him out of his meditated state. Albeit the words were fainter now, but he still heard them nonetheless.
'Be wary of those cloaked in black, my little elf.'
Elf?
"Khrae!"
Sebastian had burst out of the double doors, his gaze looking wildly around for the man. The room where the elf was with the assassin Fukayna was right above them, the window shook violently before shattering and letting loose a loud 'boom'. It lasted only for a second, but the pressure that flooded the courtyard held the same feel as the magic that had exploded in the mansion just the other day. Sebastian ducked on impulse before looking up over to the window.
"The elf! Can you do anything?"
Khrae stood quickly, pushing a hand through his hair to straighten it from the sudden explosion of energy as he looked up to the window overhead. While the voice he'd just heard wasn't at all familiar, that surge of power was something he was acquainted with, even if only for a few brief moments. It was the same energy that had crippled Armen the previous day, and Khrae can't say that he was particularly happy to have to deal with it again. With a quick nod to Sebastian, the swordsman wasted no time in bolting towards the now opened doors, allowing the older assassin to lead the way up to the young elf's room.
Wait.. Elf? Armen.. Was it just a coincidence, or... No.
Not important. Khrae dismissed the thoughts for now, feeling that it would be better to interpret these occurrences later, when he could focus better. More pressing was the matter of the state that he found Armen in as he burst into the room. Indeed he was bursting with the same power as previously, and again he appeared to be experiencing the same horrific effects. Moving quickly, the swordsman knelt on the floor next to the young elf, putting a hand against his forehead, giving him a quick look over, and lightly placing two fingers on his neck to check his heart rate. He seemed to be okay, other than the probably excruciatingly uncomfortable feeling that must accompany having a great source of power forcing itself from ones body like an overstressed meat bag.
The fact that an elf had an untapped innate magic was nothing new or particularly shocking, but what worried Khrae was the volatile state it seemed to rest in, and then the potency it possessed when released. Whether or not the power was stronger than last time, Khrae couldn't tell right off-hand, but the man set to work anyway in trying to contain it. It was all he could do for now, and he only wished that it wasn't having any unfavorable side-effects. A powerful mage would probably know what to do better than himself, but it had worked once before and it was all he could offer until he found a way to safely channel the power out in a less explosive manner.
Tracing two fingers up from Armen's neck onto his forehead, Khrae closed his eyes, now searching for where the power was strongest within its vessel. Gently the man placed his other hand just over the young elf's chest, then closed his eyes, beginning his prayers.
Several moments later and Khrae was almost literally blown back away from Armen. While he did manage to put enough energy into the young elf to hopefully clear or suppress his power, the man's own had seemed to escape him, exploding back in his face as if hitting suddenly a brick wall. Normally the Khrae wouldn't have allowed that much to seep in, and if it did, he'd of kept control of it, but he'd allowed himself to slip, momentarily distracted by something which gave him great reason to worry.
Coughing and sputtering, Khrae moved slowly, his entire body suddenly aching not only from accepting all that power, but from having it suddenly reverse back on himself. Rolling onto his side, the man propped himself up on one elbow, trying to support himself as he stood up off the floor, all the while attempting to regain control of his body, suddenly shaking. His chest was tight, as were all his muscles, and the man spent a good amount of time simply leaning against the wall, blinking and coughing until he simply couldn't anymore. Resignedly, he simply allowed himself to press his back against the door frame, then slide down exhaustively.
Looking back up to Sebastian, he offered a weak smile and shrug, then found himself grasping at his stomach as it felt like a hot blade were suddenly piercing his abdomen.
"Ahh, Damnit.." Khrae gasped through clenched teeth. Several seconds and it passed, and the man allowed himself to go limp as he looked to Armen. Still more or less panting, the Khrae blinked again, nodding. "Heh...Agh.. Hopefu-Hopefully that'll hold..." Once the man was in control of himself again, he'd discuss with Sebastian what he had just experienced. It was definitely no coincidence, and that was definitely one of the cloaked figure's voices.
Damned mages, Khrae huffed.
"Damn," the old assassin huffed as he leaned heavily against the doorway near Khrae, "I'm getting to old for this..." Sebastian sighed, "Mages hu? Don't like the sound of this. It would be better if Jennifer or Lord V'lyn were here. In any case, looks like the elf is better. At least for the moment. What about you? That was quite a hit there."
Khrae sighed, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand. His breathing was becoming easier, and at least he didn't feel like his heart was trying to rip itself from his chest. "Fine," he commented simply, "Just... Got away from me.."
With another huff, the man pressed up against the wall, forcing himself to stand. "We should get Armen to a place where he can rest..." Khrae said tiredly, "Then we should really discuss something concerning..." The man looked to Fukayna, then back to Sebastian, hoping that perhaps he could convey the importance without having to say anything that could possibly worry the poor girl. Until some sense was made of all this, it was no use causing unnecessary trouble. Plus, Khrae wasn't even sure what it concerned... Perhaps Sebastian could help him decipher what had just happened, but the man wasn't about to make any assumptions pertaining to any coincidences that may or may not be just that.
Moving towards the young elf, Khrae knelt to gather him, but just before the man had a chance to do anything, a thought suddenly struck him. One that, by decree of the clan, required more attention than anything else the man had to worry about. "Have you seen Dante?" Khrae inquired suddenly.
"Dante? The little runt that's always causing trouble? No, haven't seen him," Sebastian answered, an eyebrow lifting slightly, "I thought the little trouble maker was with you..." the old assassin muttered.
Pushing off the doorway, he motioned for Khrae to follow him with Armen in tow, "You can put him back in the room he was in earlier to rest, then we can talk in the hall if you wish."
Khrae moved sluggishly, if a bit lethargically, nodding as he picked up Armen and moved from Fukaynaās room, following the old assassin. His meditation had only just settled his mind and body, returning him to a refreshed and rejuvenated state, but it seemed that fate refused to allow him any time to lounge in such comforts. Even before heād completed his meditation, someone or something insisted on gathering his attention, and not seconds afterwards, he was forced to resort to his clans Sacred Powers once again. Of course thatās not to say that the man wouldnāt waste any time in doing it again, but the physical toll was extremely strenuous, and already the man felt as though heād aged several more years.
The man was still in his youth, however, especially when compared to some Clan Elders, but already his joints ached, his back and neck felt stiff, and his muscles burned. He knew that there were always some unfavorable side-effects, and the man could suffer through the momentary discomfort usually without batting an eye. What he didnāt look forward to were the complications that would arise later in life, most pressing of said issues being a shortened time one had in this world. Khrae wasnāt at all afraid of death seeing as he was vastly, if not entirely, a spiritual man, but the clan was dedicated to perfecting the mind to such a caliber and degree that could only be attained from the longest, purest life. Such a long, fulfilling life could only be obtained through the strictest of guidelines in every way each clansman conducted themselves.
Reading supplied the clansman with the knowledge to produce a mind sharper than any blade. Training induced discipline as each man and woman honed their abilities. Everything a clansman did was dedicated to progressing forward, with nary a move put towards counter-productivity. No action, spoken or otherwise, could ever be taken back, no mistake was affordable. The precision of the body, a blunt tool to be guided by the mind was trained to move expertly, each and every movement adequately assessed before enacted. The highest of the clansman seemed to always float, rather than walk. Carried with a certain grace, even the art of taking a step was perfected so that the hindering pauses and unnecessary undulation of the body as weight was transferred from one foot to the other was surpassed. No time was wasted, and speed, as well as every other factor, was constant. Finally, meditation synchronized everything, and even the action of remaining still in an ever changing world was turned into a constant and steady advance ahead.
Combined, a clansman was then granted access to divine enlightenment and further development under careful tutelage from the ancestors, granting abilities obtained by only the most dedicated. Such a gift was truly just that, and a carefully guarded one, not to be employed for selfish reasons, but in order to better the clan as a whole. Skilled in the complete and utter control of this power, the Clan Elders wielded it with enough efficiency as to destroy, to heal, to move, and to think. Spiritual energy. It was much more natural and refined than the raw magic these mages wieldedā¦
Khrae contemplated this all the while he walked, knowing well that, while he was strong, he still had a great distance to travel in order to even think of matching the level of the Clan Elders. His path was then detoured even more with the acceptance of the task of guiding the free-spirited Dante, but he trusted that the Ancestors plans would surely pay off in the long run. With that thought in mind, and after having put Armen safely back in his room, the man met Sebastian in the hall.
Looking at the older assassin, Khrae sighed, sincerely unsure of where to even begin. The explanation of such a thing as what heād happened to stumble upon was beyond him, but nevertheless, the man took a shot.
āFirst of, let me start by saying Iām still working on attempt to decipher what any of this means. To put it into words seems nearly implausible, so Iād like to try something. It must be witnessed and experienced first-hand.ā Deciding that this was the best course of action, Khrae nodded, though it was more to encourage himself than Sebastian. The assassin was obviously a well-learned man, and so the swordsman had no doubt that he would have no trouble in conveying to him the bewildering greatness of what heād intercepted. He still had yet to solidify in his mind that it involved Armen, but that was simply because the man never made assumptions without good reason. Of course it wasnāt that he didnāt have a good reason to assume so, but he also had a moment to stop and fully comprehend the situation, as well as employ a third-party.
āNow then,ā Khrae continued casually, āhave you ever meditated?ā
Dante
Under normal circumstances, Dante wouldāve been too naĆÆve to notice the look Capella seemed to adopt when he mentioned the details of his plan to her. Under normal circumstances, Dante wouldāve been completely oblivious to a look of betrayal, seeing as how, being the embodiment of innocence and so care-free, such a term was a lost art. Thatās not to say that he didnāt have the ability to comprehend when someone wasnāt being entirely honest, nor to understand why someone would be angry, but more so he simply always got too distracted by all the other joys of life that so easily outweighed the little things. When he did something wrong, if it was accident, he obviously never meant for it, and unless outright told, never picked up on it; if on purpose, it was usually in good-humor, never malicious intent.
Of course, seeing as this was indeed normal circumstances, Dante remained completely turned off from Capellaās displeased look, only acknowledging her, albeit resigned sounding, acquiescence. With an overjoyed smile, Dante allowed only a moment for himself to be lost in an overwhelming sense of joy, grasping tight the Dragoness and embracing her in a bear hug. A moment later though, he returned to his feigned seriousness, though the playful undertone was blatantly obvious.
Crouching again, with his arms spread to either side as if ready to accept an attack or flee at a momentās notice, Danteās head swung back and forth before he began moving not at all silently towards the Guildhouseās exit.
āDay one,ā Dante began speaking quietly, in-between his unnecessary jumps across the hall to hide in doorways, mimicing stealth, āweāve begun our campaign to capture subject F. Dante, witty, cunning, clever andā¦ uhm. Smart guyā¦ Heh. Has enlisted the help of Capella, the ā¦ something or otherā¦ capr.. capreshe? Caprishush? Dragonnessā¦.ā
Running loudly across the hall once more, Dante glanced back at Capella, nodding and giving a thumbs up before spinning around the corner, adopting a fighting stance in order to combat the vacancy he found himself staring at. āThe way is clear for nowā¦ Enemies lurk. Khrae, the evil, grumpy troll is aroundā¦ somewhereā¦ With any luck, we can escape his dreaded castle and return to the task at hand!ā
Jumping forward, Dante landed awkwardly on his side and rolled comically a few feet, before army crawling and finally dashing to the mansion entrance. Pressing his back against the wall again, he peered through the door to the outside world.
āNo guards or sentriesā¦ Why say you, Capella?!ā Looking back to the Dragoness, Dante waited for her response before continuing outside, wasting no time in karate chopping a random bush and then drawing his sword and hacking away at a stump, shouting out random battle cries before running across the grass, as if being chased by enemy soldiers. His games caused him to momentarily forget that heād left his sword impaled into the truncated piece of wood.
Rushing back, Dante spent another second or two attempting to pull his blade free, landing on his back as it finally came loose. Standing and attempting to cover the embarrassment, Dante swung the blade around and pointed down the road they had come from the previous day. āCome, Capella!ā he called probably too loudly, āOur mission awaits!ā
Valentino
Valentino inspected the spot Fay had chosen for him carefully. No bugs, toads, horsesā¦ Just dirt. Dirty dirt. Blech. Inwardly wincing and rolling his eyes, the man hated for his beautifully flawless white attire to be stained, and so he held up a graceful finger as an idea occurred to him. It was just enough to distract him from his previous uproar, as well as help impress the beautiful new target heād acquired.
āOne moment, darlingā he offered charismatically. Turning, the man walked several paces before coming to a stop. With a blue glow emenating from his fingertip, he drew a square in the air, then began filling in details containing a large circle with several smaller ones inside it, decorated with odd runes. It was a less conventional means of magic, but definitely a more enticing one. It was mysterious and interesting to watch, and usually came with just as good results as if he were to cast a simple spell without the showmanship. Conjuration of a rock entity or whatever else was difficult, but the picnic which appeared was honestly a low-level trick. Easy mastery and it came in handy more times than most cared to acknowledge. Especially during the lonely nights when Valentino was too lazy to actually cook something.
What was laid out after a short chant was simple yet romantic. Atop a plain purple blanket embroider whimsically in gold hearts and vines sat several modest platters of cheese, meats, and some fruits. A small candle sat in the center, burning a strange pink, rather than yellow. Easy, and in truth, the only thing that Valentino could produce. But his inability to do anything other than illusions, short of this and a few other miscellaneous spells, was irrelevant. Honestly this wasnāt entirely a spell, but more of a summoning. Encrypted in a tome amongst several other locked away treasures, Valentino had sealed this spell away, enjoying his ability to use it whenever he wished, without ever running short of supply.
āI know how much you must want to be continuing on, but itās no use traveling on an empty stomach. Why donāt you tell me a little more about yourself and these friends while we immerse ourselves in a snack? Hmm?ā
With a wink, Valentino took Fays hand to help her up and relocate her to the purple fabric laid out over the grass. With a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, he gestured for her to sit.
āA little conversation never hurt,ā Valentino said casually, taking a seat next to his newfound treasure. āAnd Iād love to hear about these people you were traveling with. They sound like an interesting group, despite leaving you behind.ā