Aster Storm's Story

Haru ate patiently, not paying too much attention to Tallyho who gobbled up her food ravenously, or Calliope who was clammed up in the corner. If anything he felt like his attention would have made their nervous behaviors worse, and so he focused on seeming as non-threatening as possible by just staying quiet and eating (not that that helped any.) He pinched away yet another dash of crumbs from his beard. Eventually, he thought, he would be due for a cut. But the days have been so long and preparations for this… interesting (?) group of warriors had taken up so much of his time that he didn’t get much of a chance to even think about personal grooming.

This group… They truly weren’t what he expected. Haru thought he would be given a cast of toned and well-weathered individuals ready for battle, especially considering what happened to the last ones. But instead he got a cast of, well, pretty people. The thought of training them made him want to snicker and a part of his soul buckled down for another century or two of waiting for the next cast of warriors because if this dinner scene told Haru anything, these kids might just die.

He hunched down for another snarl at his hen when one of the young men inquired about his book. Scrapes to Scabs… Haru hadn’t picked the thing up in ages and was a little surprised that it was still in the house. Even more surprised that this kid had the balls to touch anything in his house and talk about it.

“It’s… One of the first books of its kind I suppose. Written a long time by this man named Constance,” Haru paused, not sure how to continue talking about the book without telling everyone that they were in a completely different world. “Let me… Help explain what happened today.”

By the time Haru sat up to speak an adequate amount of time had passed for people to consume at least one serving.

“I wanted to let you eat first before getting into all of this,” he sighed. He wrung his callused hands on the table and leaned forward like a father preparing to firmly tell his child that Santa isn’t real and that the pet goldfish died last week. He didn’t speak in the most coddling tone, but he was straining to sound comforting.

“I’ll try to answer all of your questions best I can, but I ask that you let me explain a few things first... That monster you saw today, the one that was growling and snarling, snapping jaws at you… Most of you have not seen or read about anything like it. But I’m sorry to say that there are more of them. A lot more of them. And somehow, someway, maybe because we’re all just really unlucky, it’s our job to get rid of them before they destroy everything and everyone.

It’s weird to say, but you’re not on earth anymore. Today you are in Aires. And I wish that I could tell you it’s as simple as “being on another planet,” but it’s a little more complicated than that. Aires is nothing like earth. It doesn’t run on the same fabric of time or development. It has none of the technologies most of you are familiar with. It’s a different line of reality with a different set of physics, and when you crossed that path of stars back there you were dumped right into this universe.

While Aires is very different from Earth on a fundamental level. What you all witnessed back there wasn’t normal for your world or mine. These monsters have been appearing in small numbers across our world, and it looks like they’re about to infiltrate yours.

We call them cyclopean. They haven’t been seen in hundreds of years around here, and that was because we had a full line of defense against them. And at the top of this defense was an elite group of 12 warriors named for the months of the year. They were given special abilities that were activated by the gemstones they wore. And with those powers they were given the task of protecting humans from the cyclopean. They failed their mission and were all killed a very long time ago… And now, coincidentally, all of you are wearing their gemstones. Don’t ask me how they got to your world because I don’t have much of a clue… But they are lodged into the necklaces and bracelets and rings from your grandfathers, and fate brought them to you.

There’s a prophecy that says that the stones will find kindred souls to finish the work that the original warriors started, and as much as I’d like to tell you that you can simply give them away and walk away from this, I need to be frank: You are the next set of warriors and the powers that those stones possess, can only be unlocked by you and no one else. I’m sure you felt your stones burning in confirmation… It was the spirit in your gem telling you that you are chosen and that you are not alone. That the people you are meant to embark on this journey with all happened to be in the right place at the right time. I don’t know why any of you are chosen, in fact if I had the choice I would ask for a more… A stronger group to be generous. But you are who you are.”

Haru exhaled quietly. He realized how ridiculous it all sounded, and halfway through he had already committed himself to all the hell he was about to get for it. But if he was being fair, there was no other way for him to give such a complex explanation for “here’s why you’re at my dinner table” in a simpler way.

“Okay… Now you can ask questions,” the redhead grumbled before reaching over for another slice of hen. If he was going to be roasted by a bunch of super powered, baby-faced infants, he might as well reward himself with more food.

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H E A T H E RXD E V E R E U X
_____ T H EXA R T I S T _____

Outfit: Link Here
Location: Aires - Haru's Farm
Dialogue Color ✦ #8A4E62
Thought Color ✧ #3A0012

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Dorian and Jules followed behind their hostess, led along in their small group through the up the stairs and through the wooden halls of the great house. There was a certain relief that came with their entrance along with the woman’s brief explanation. It was a mental shrinking of this strange place they found themselves in to a much more manageable size. Homes, no matter how large, were far less disconcerting for the man born of ice and snow and another who’d grown up in a concrete jungle than the open fields and rolling hills cresting like grassy waves on the horizon. That was not to say that either man was comfortable, however.

Jules, for instance, insisted on walking with his bag clutched tightly to his chest, back hunched as he leaned protectively over it. It was like a child carrying a security blanket, especially given the way that the blonde was absently and anxiously toying with the shoulder strap, although Jules would insist that he was simply being practical. He didn’t know where he was or how long the hospitality would last. It was better to keep his possessions close at hand for a quick escape or at least to hit someone with if things went sour. Given the way some of the others in the group had acted thus far, it seemed like the smart thing to do.

Dorian had his own form of practicality, standing ramrod straight as his eyes darted around the halls. Each doorway, every nook and cranny was noted with a suspicious eye. This was unknown territory in a country that surely wasn’t his own. Anything was possible after what he’d experienced in the past eight or so hours, and he would not be caught off guard again. Short of the Goddess flying in through the roof, he was reasonably certain that he was prepared for anything.

The group was brought to a halt by the natural end of the hallway, three doors the only real disruption in the endless wood panels, as well as the scar-faced woman’s final words. These were to be their rooms. They could bathe, change clothes, wait for dinner, and something about that bothered Jules. Well, many things bothered Jules, especially right now, but that- that was especially not good. They were expected- the bulky ginger had said as much before, the twelve of them guests for their mysterious host. There was a quiet plot here, carrying on at least from the all-consuming light if not further before, and screw that. Jules wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of someone pulling his strings like a marionette, making him gambol and jape towards a destination unknown. His lips twisted into a scowl, and he clutched his bag closer to him.

With the woman gone without another word, the group began to scatter, wandering into rooms or to parts unknown. Some seemed at ease, taking this turn of events into stride, while others seemed harried or upset, tears pricking at eyes and deep breaths attempting to overcome all-consuming panic. They had an hour, maybe two before the light had faded sufficiently to herald the coming of a meal. Now it was all about how to spend that time.


The room at the end of the hall was filling up quickly, and Dorian found himself moving towards the one closest to the way they’d come. He’d rather be close to the exits should something happen, and if it didn’t, well, one room was as good as another. The rooms were sparsely furnished but almost clinically neat, the beds spread out precisely in a way that kept the room from feeling crowded. Perhaps a few others filtered in behind, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when the blonde person, the one who’d intervened in the fight just long enough to save the brunette girl’s life, wandered in as well, collapsing sulkily on the nearest bed, still cradling their bag.

Never one for breezy conversation, Dorian sat down heavily as well, finally taking the chance to give his person a once-over. The wounds were still gone, not even the crick in his neck from the watch he’d taken in Hales remaining. But the tear in his coat was still there, and dirt and blood, both his and the Cyclopean’s, still stained the fabric. He brushed his hand over the hole in his overcoat and was surprised when someone spoke.

“You want me to fix that?”

It was his blonde roommate-apparent. They hadn’t sat up yet, but their tired, kohl-smudged eyes were now turned on him instead of the ceiling. To their credit, they only flinched a little when Dorian turned fully towards them.

“Your coat-thing. I can, you know-“ He mimed a needle, stitching it through the air. “Fix it. Stitch it up. Whatever.”

Their Common was a little strange, tinged with an accent he couldn’t place, and their words were broken up, more abrupt than the flowing, flowery sentences used by diplomats or taught in school. It took a moment to adjust and piece together, and that was a moment too long for the blonde, apparently.

“Look, you know, I don’t have to. It’s fine. Just thought I’d offer, since, like, there’s nothing else to do-”

“Yes.” Dorian’s answer was as abrupt as the original question. He’d finally caught up with the other’s train of thought and found that he rather liked it. “You fix coat? Yes. Please.”

He shucked his overcoat and walked it over just as the woman returned, a pile of thin, airy clothes clutched in her arms. She handed Dorian his set, neatly folded light brown pants and an off-white shirt, and hesitated momentarily with his roommate who looked suddenly thoughtful.

“Pants, please,” they said after a moment, collecting an outfit much like Dorian’s. The woman left after catering to whoever else may have been in the room. The clothes weren’t very appealing, too thin and lacking the sturdy craftsmanship of Halesian clothes, but they weren’t stained with blood or sweat and were therefore a bit of a better option. Well, after a bath, perhaps. He may not understand or trust the situation, but perhaps he’d feel more human again after washing off the stink of the last few hours and by avoiding dying of heat-stroke in his uniform.

He moved to leave before glancing back at the blonde who had already pulled out a thick, sharp needle from their pack along with an odd sort of thread. Their face was pinched into a look of pure concentration, ignoring the clothes scattered to their side.

“Thank you…?” Dorian said after a moment, trailing off with a slight questioning look.
“Jules,” The other replied after a moment, not bothering to look up. “Who’re you, then? Since we’re stuck together for the time being.”

“I am Dorian.”

“Alright, Dorian. I’ll take care of it.” Dorian caught the affirmative nod, as good a dismissal as any, and left for the baths.


Jules fixed the hole after twenty minutes, most of that time spent examining the cloth itself. The overcoat felt like it was wool, but not a variety Jules had ever seen or heard of, almost too thick to pass even his sharpest needle through. It was a good challenge while it lasted, but not he was stuck with the reality of the situation. This place was all kinds of fucked up. Weird warriors with almost Russian accents, fabric that shouldn’t exist on Earth anymore or ever, and God knows what lurking just outside this room. It was really all too much, so you’d have to forgive him if the only thing that drew him out of his scowl and his room was a maid peeking in the doorway, urging him to follow her to dinner. Jules followed, however reluctantly, leaving the new clothes behind but dragging his bag along with him.

He wasn’t hungry, not even when the magnificent wave of smells came wafting into the hallway as they approached the dining room. Not when the spread, something stripped out of a fantasy film, was revealed, all mouth-watering morsels and tender bites the likes of which you simply didn’t get in New York without offering up a good chunk of change. Not even when others sat down to devour the feast, the warrior, Dorian (still damp from his bath and smelling a whole Hell of a lot better), perhaps most gruesomely of all, attacking the spread like a starving wolf. He certainly looked the part, the thin clothes exposing a lither frame than Jules had expected when they’d first met. Jules sat down next to him, having labeled the other man as “kind of safe the be around” or at least “he owes me a favor”, and sullenly picked apart one of the buttered rolls.

Everyone, or at least almost everyone, had taken their seat by the time Haru cleared his throat, attention drawn to him automatically. Here were the answers to their questions, a plot unveiled. And what a plot it was.


Month Warriors, Cyclopeans, magic- it was like the stories of old, albeit with the addition of apparently another planet being dragged into the legend.

Most people do not have simple decision making processes, simply because people are quite complex. Dorian was not an exception to that norm, but allow us a moment to briefly see what was going through his brain at that moment. It’s only a fraction of the million thoughts that surely ran through all of their heads, but this specific fraction does a decent job of simplifying it.

The idea of another planet, another world, was probably what convinced Dorian first. These people from Earth, these aliens, accepted that for a fact. Earth, a place Dorian had never heard of, was a real place to almost all of the surrounding group, and the very mention of Aires confounded them. That would explain the general confusion in regards to legends and their frankly bizarre and mildly embarrassing clothing. And wouldn’t that also explain the world he’d glimpsed only a short while ago? The land of giant metal buildings and people with glowing rectangles (glued? Attached?) to their hands. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t Aires.

The monstrosity he’d fought was a second clue because that was a Cyclopean. It just was. Despite the fact that he’d very contentedly spent a good majority of his life assuming they were merely nightmarish stories to make children behave, he knew one when he saw one. It would be like if a centaur pranced in front of someone from Earth. You would know it to be a centaur from the horse bits combined with the person bits in a very certain way, and it would be impossible, of course, but there it was, eating a carrot right in front of you. That would be a centaur, and in the very same course of logic Dorian knew his mythical encounter was with a Cyclopean.

The magic was perhaps the most difficult thing to grasp, but already Dorian was posed to believe that more than his Earthling neighbors. For a person who’d seen Aires’ first attempt at a flashlight only six months ago, his mind simply wasn’t ready to propose anything like hallucinogenic drugs or perhaps advanced portal technologies. Magic was a much easier explanation for everything that had happened to him within the past day, something thoroughly engrained in even a more scientific culture like the great cities of Hales. Nothing else fit the puzzle quite right, and it was the last answer standing.

Dorian was a rational man, and sometimes the most rational explanation was also the one that you didn’t really want to believe. When you have managed to discount every other possibility, the only explanation left, no matter how fantastical, has to be the truth. Even if he wasn’t thoroughly convinced that he was the right person, he believed enough not to throw a fit or attempt anything rash.

His eyes darted wearily down to his shirt, the impression of his aquamarine necklace under the thin cloth now more ominous than comforting. Dorian didn’t like the idea that a myth was around his neck, dangling like a noose. He wasn’t fond of the fact that now everyone was in an uproar and his life was going to be changed no matter what he did. He certainly disliked the fact that he was miles and miles from home and his worldview had been tilted on its axis. And he hated, absolutely hated, that he had no questions to ask because all he wanted to know was when he could go back home. Home to his job, his family, his beloved country. His home, which was in danger because even if Dorian had rationalized away everything Haru had said, he knew that Cyclopeans were real now, that their attacks would likely increase. So the only question he could think to ask was the one he already knew the answer to; once the job is done.

All of these complex thoughts translated outwardly in this manner: Dorian’s eyes widened a bit, he nodded his head with a little grunt of agreement, and then he turned moodily back to his banya. Because he knew, he knew he couldn’t even think of leaving before he found out a way to bring a solution to the most pressing problem of evil monsters once again terrorizing the land back to Hales. This place, this man, was his best shot. And if it was fake, what had he done other than survived a strange encounter in a strange land? There really wasn’t much to lose

Jules Fontaine

Others did not take the revelation quite as well. Others who had thoughts that echoed Heather’s own initial desire to leave, which she’d squashed down for a more sensible attitude and questions that might actually get them somewhere. Others who did not feel the natural inclination to be mature about all this. Others like Jules.

“Nope.” The single word almost echoed in the initial silence before Haru could reply to Heather’s question, the “p” popping loudly. Jules was already standing up, almost knocking his chair over in his haste. His face had gone white as a sheet, his lips pressed together into a thin line. He was backing away from the table now, quick little steps leading him to the door as he shouldered his bag once again. “I'm gonna ..."
Jules stopped at the doorway, fingers tapping nervously on the door’s frame for a fraction of a moment as he surveyed the table, eyes flashing over everyone gathered together before landing on Haru. He took a shallow, shuddering breath.

“Excuse me. Just a minute." And with that announcement, Jules was gone leaving only the sound of his footsteps fading behind.

Where was he going? Jules really had no idea and was oddly comfortable with that fact. His present destination was “not here” or, alternatively, “far away from whatever the Hell was happening”. There was only so much a modern, reasonable human could be confronted with before his mind reverted into something a little simpler to help him cope.

As far as Jules was concerned, he’d already been subjected to a giant lizard monster, almost dying, what was maybe a pocket dimension straight out of a sci-fi novel, and with what he was beginning to expect was a dinner from maybe Game of Thrones. You would have to pardon him if being told he was on a different planet and had super powers he had to use to save the world was a bit too much. He didn’t have a better explanation, of course, but fever dream and an elaborate prank were at least possibilities he could accept, unlikely as they may be.

Jules wasn’t running as much as he was striding with determination. That is to say that he was going as fast as he could without actually running because he wasn't particularly desirous if a heel getting stuck in a gopher hole. He’d find a cab, eventually. Maybe a surrounding house that wasn’t completely batshit backwards like this place. With that pace he made it out the front door with no one to stop him and was halfway across the yard, headed towards the fields or the hills or wherever the Hell he was going when he noticed that something was off.

It was nighttime. That much was obvious. The blue skies had been traded for a blanket of darkness and stars twinkled overhead. That was fine. That was normal. It was just that there was a strange brightness about everything, the world a little less dark than it should have been, especially with no electric lights to be found. His gait faltered for a moment as he glanced upwards and found the moon. And the moon. There were two moons, both nearly full and glowing in the night sky. It was beautiful, it was fantastic, and it was horrifying all in one. That was it. There was no denying that this wasn’t Earth anymore. This was somewhere else completely, a world away from home.

Jules heard a little whimper as he fell backwards into the grass and was only slightly surprised to realize that it had come from him. He sat there, body still and eyes glued on the alien impossibility hanging overhead.

"Fuck,” Jules breathed, frustration, and the first notes of acceptance staining his words. He lingered for a moment, gazing at those impossible moons before getting to his feet. Well he might as well keep from dying for awhile longer. Somehow cowardice meant not running away, which was very disappointing. Running away tended to be much easier. Well, self preservation must win out in the end.

Jules made his way back inside, slower than his initial exit. If he was going to have to play the marionette, he was going to do it with all the reluctance he felt. No gambolling or japing included.

Jules returned to the dining room, although he refused to let any sheepishness or embarrassment bleed through.

"Yeah. Yep. Best option only option."

"They have two moons, you know," he said dryly as he sat, arms crossed. "Just in case you people were wondering. Jesus."

As Ron sat through Haru's long explanation of their current situation, he could not help but let his emotions run rampant. On one hand he was now the main character of what was essentially an RPG/Manga plot. On the other hand he would never be able to finish that final season of Game of Thrones. Overall there were probably more pros then cons. In this world he would have superior technological knowledge and magic to boot. He could use his powers to place himself at the center stage of importance.

Ron began to run through all the scenario's in his head on how the shows placed the protagonist in power when they were sent to a new world. If he had an offensive power he could raise an army and use superior weapons and tactics to claim vast territory; If instead he gained a passive magic then he could gather a cult of personality. Earth was a violent, wicked place that he felt indifferent in, getting high with no clear purpose in life. However, in this world he could be the savior.

Feeling giddy as a school girl he decided to voice his thoughts. "Don't you guys see? This is a blessing in disguise! We'll have the knowledge and power to reshape this world as we see fit. I personally don't want to go back to being a gear in the cog like on Earth. However, I want a few things before signing on. First I want all the books on the history, culture, and geography of this world. Second I'd eventually like a keg of gunpowder. Third, I'm more of the gun for hire type so I'll need a payment up front or I'm sitting right here." Ron reached for the bottle of wine on the table and began to pour wine into his cup, before realizing the last question he would need to ask. "By the way, what's my power?

Tallyho felt a little flutter in her chest when the young man who had threatened (at least she supposed he had) the farmer from earlier spoke up. But it wasn’t a flattering kind of flutter — the kind that makes a person steal looks across the room between the warm rushes of blood swelling their cheeks. No it was the kind of flutter that signaled a bit of baffle and shock. Maybe a bit of disgust.

Reshape this place? Them? If she understood everything correctly, now these aliens were coming to change her world to how they saw fit? Tallyho wasn’t the smarted person, but she definitely wasn’t an idiot. If there was a moment where she was kind of on board with the month warrior thing, this new element of world domination really took her back to the drawing board. Especially when he had the audacity to ask for payment. And Goddess only knew what a gunpowder was…

Tallyho pressed her lips firmly together, stoic. The only expressive behaviors that gave away how turned off she was at the nerve of this man were the glances she stole across the table toward to the only two dinner guests who, by dress, she could assume were from Aires. The warrior and another blonde.
Then she looked to Haru.

Haru wasn’t the most patient person, but he had will power.

“Well Ron,” he put an emphasis on his name as if to signal that he knew all of their names, and he did. “I can certainly get you the education you need. First lesson: There is no gun powder here. No guns even. This is the kind of world where men fight fist to fist and sword to sword, which might be honorable to some… I highly recommend you get trained in hand to hand combat, especially with the power you have… Which is why I’ll be talking everyone to a special academy north of here for training at the break of dawn. It will be your home for a little while. A hero’s journey begins with your ordinary world, a call to adventure, the refusal to said adventure and then a brush with a mentor. And I am your mentor, not your contractor. Therefore, I won’t be paying you. But you’re welcome to forego the journey. Sit here, run off, you’re welcome to take some food too. But if you choose not to cross the threshold of this adventure, then you ought not to know anything about your power, right? You’d be safer not knowing anything if you’re not committed to the cause. So go off if you’d like, or stay. But these are the terms.”

Haru stood up and his chair slid back with a heavy grunt. “For those of you who will be here tomorrow free of charge, be ready. When we get to the top of the academy, I’ll tell you your true potential. But for now, sleep. It will be a very long day.”
And with that, Haru left.

When Haru first spoke, Angela’s heart muddily skipped a beat. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Rather, it was one of inevitability finally arriving. Like test scores being revealed or checking your credit score. It didn’t help that he was an intimidating man. Though different than the soldier that slayed the beast and ate like a man condemned to death, Haru still had an air of power about him. Angela swallowed a bit of stew. For whatever reason, this didn’t seem like something to listen to with her mouth full.

And it really wasn’t, for she just might have done a dramatic spit take had she actually had anything in there when she heard the news. She could deal with the reality of monsters. The park had solidified her thoughts on that. But another world? Even she found that hard to believe. As he went on Angela stared wide eyed. It was a lot of information to digest.

Angela wasn’t exactly what one would call a sceptic. There comes a point where after buying multiple candles and going through so many seances (failed though they were) that one simply has to admit they might be a bit of an eccentric. Still, even Angela had her limits. Even she needed some shred of evidence. Some reason to believe. She brushed her fingers over her own gem, hoping it would burn as it did before. Any bit of confirmation would have been wonderful. However, it remained the same. So, she was left to think about this situation. Questions just couldn’t come to mind. She was too confused.

This was all unbelievable, but it had happened. A monster appeared in central park. A bridge of stars and oceans had led them somewhere. There weren’t any other explanations. At least, none that Angela liked. Drugs, kidnapping, these thoughts had been racing through her mind. But for some reason they seemed less believable. Maybe, the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to believe it. A reality where they were warriors and there was magic, that one was more palatable.

Others spoke up, and Angela found herself nodding in approval. She even had the brief thought of following the blond who left the building. But, she remained in her seat. Even if it was out of nothing but begrudging acceptance. She couldn’t stay skeptical for too long. It just wasn’t in her nature. So, fine. There were monsters, and other worlds, and warriors with magical stones. It was better to believe in this reality. In this reality, they had a fighting chance.

Maybe that’s why she stood up after the threatening man spoke, her face flushed with anger. Haru left, and had said his piece. Truthfully, Angela thought he said it well. He said it far better than she.

“You gotta be kidding, dude! Like, holy shit. Reshape? What, like a god or something? I mean, if this is all real, these are peoples lives we’re dealing with! Man! I know this is weird, but you don’t gotta be a creep about it!” The words tumbled out of her mouth, clumsy and awkward. She sank back into her seat sheepishly, refusing to make eye contact. But she continued to speak.

“If there are people in danger, in whatever world, and we can do something to stop that, then shouldn’t we? Do we even have a choice, like, as humans? It’s just the moral thing to do, right? Be good and helpful and stuff? So, I’m going along. If there’s any way I can help, I want to. And even if this is all just some dumb thing or drugs or whatever or who knows, at least I tried. I can be proud of myself for that.”

One would be lying if they didn’t admit that the Month Warriors had a collectively chaotic day in Malboro. Nonetheless, the strange encounters they’ve experienced were no reason to not move on from the walled city before day break. Haru made sure of that, taking it upon himself to wake up early and personally round up the warriors, even if it meant snatching the wool blankets right off of their unconscious bodies. They had one more day of travel left.

You see, Haru wasn't the only immortal who had been waiting for the next group for hundreds of years. There was more of him where he came from, twelve to be exact. And while he knew not of where most of his fellow guardians went, he knew of at least one person who was only a cart ride away. And today, they were going to him.

Tallyho, who had been one of those who slept so soundly that Haru had to physically snatch her covers off, didn't take kindly to the rude and early awakening. In fact, she was a little angry, although she was much too scared of Haru to outwardly voice her wrath. And so she spent the earliest part of their ride quietly fuming in the corner of the cart. To be fair, that wasn't the only reason why she was peeved though.

All of her “best friends” growing up were her cousins and even then she didn’t feel like she had that much of an attachment to them. But in the off chance she made a friend with a settler, the friendship seemed to end almost as swiftly as it began. Such was the case with Ingra, at least she thought so at the time. When they parted ways last night Ingra invited Tallyho to visit her in Malboro whenever she wanted. Tallyho accepted the invitation uneasily. But in her heart she knew that she’d probably never see the towering feminine figure again. Especially when she didn’t know where she’d be next.

The next five hours were probably the most trying. There were no more snacks in the cart and a strong scent was beginning to develop amongst the group members. They travelled so much before this point but Tallyho, years later, would always remember those five hours as the most uncomfortable hours of her life. She needed to get out of this cart. Fast. And it didn’t help that they had gained some altitude on the mountain path. The ground was far below them, hidden by canopies of trees and autumn mist. The snow was going to come down soon enough.

She wondered if they’d be trapped on this mountain and how high they were going to go. By this point they were nowhere near the top.

“We are almost there,” Haru assured them, as if on cue. “Ryou lives here. He was a guardian too. And when we went our separate ways he built a modest training ground up here. Takes in a handful of students, many orphans, and teaches them how to fight. Many go on to be mercenaries. This academy will be your new home for a few months. You need to learn how to defend yourselves because there will be lots of people who want to challenge you, test you, kill you… So you need to be ready.”

As they weaved and turned precariously on the winding mountain path, Haru proceeded to name each of the teenagers and their associated powers off to them. He hadn't forgotten his promise to tell them who they were. But Tallyho, being Airesian, was quite aware of who she was already.

Soon after, the upward path levelled into narrow road that wedged through two slabs of mountain face. And soon, they were surrounded by forest. The view over mountain ledge was gone, and besides the fact that Tallyho’s ears had popped, she wouldn't have been able to tell that they were in fact, on a mountain.

“It looks like we’re here,” Haru said.

The upward narrow lane wound through a forest of mostly oak and maple, where most of the trees were so ancient that only the most meager grass and brush could grow beneath them. By the time it leveled between the two faces of mountains, there the forest was not so old, and smaller trees and brush, some of it still living despite the lateness of the season, stood thick and heavy. Golden and scarlet leaves had begun covering the dried skeletons of the smaller brush, and the naked, sleeping trees swayed in a chorus of gentle creaking. Signs of humanity began shortly after, after Haru’s statement: They traveled passed a barren orchard, beehives, and a quaint field laid fallow for the season; and the dirt pathway became more heavily laden with soft, white cobblestone, jostling the cart and it’s passengers almost painfully. It was the signs of a strong holding, that the academy’s central buildings had walls higher than some military encampments, reaching nearly twice the height of a man and made of seamed, dark grey stone, laboriously raised from the mountainous ground over many years. The gates, heavy wood bound with a primitive steel, were half-closed, and a woman precariously perched on the wall above them, squinting laconically out over the distance.

The woman was lean, with darker skin than most people they’d seen so far of Solace, and had her long brown hair drawn painfully tight to pass an illusion of a mane of hair. Her colorful, flowing loose, tunic-dress and multiple layers of fine, jingling jewelry upon her arms and neck, left far too much skin on display – not that she seemed all that bothered by the cold seeping with the mountain mist clinging to the protected valley – and the prominent scars that came with it. She seemed to observe the coming cart with a slim mixture of annoyance and indifference for some time, before deciding they were close enough to skinny down the wall on a thin braided rope attached to a thickly made gray-fletched arrow wedged into the cracks of stone and landed on bare feet (ankles tinkling with their own noise-making jewelry in turn). Wordlessly she nodded in reluctant greeting as she pushed open the gate, allowing the driver to get his beasts and the cart inside the property; and once everyone was inside, she closed the gate and locked it with a ring of keys orbiting unnoticed upon her wrist.

Inside the gates there was a significant open space for communal gatherings and/or training; with what looked to be a deep well to one side, a large placid fountain with a minimal movement of water in the center, and stacks of various weaponry to the other side. Past it was a trio of large, rustic stone buildings, and beyond them a small barn and pens for animals resting upon a distant wall of the forest beyond. The woman approached the head of the cart, her sea-glass eyes retaining a distasteful yet knowledgeable look about a thing or two of the situation at hand as she passed over the heads of the warrior crowded in the back, before focusing on red-headed Guardian – the distaste lifted some, but she offered no more than lukewarm terse ‘smile’ to part her lips briefly. “Haru, and month warriors. We have been waiting for you… Ryou had another matter to attend too, and asked for me to greet you in his stead.” She spoke matter-of-factly, her voice quick and melodious and with minimal effort to separating the pronunciation between words. The brief pause in collecting her breath before continuing, allowed her gaze to shift briefly towards the cart driver / farm-hand and the tired horses appraisingly.

“I will call a student over to help take your cart to unload and allow your beasts some rest and hot grain. But dinner is not for some time I am afraid, and while I understand you must all be very weary from your journey – I have only a tour and general things to offer you in the mean-time.” She finished shortly. Pursing her lips to deliver a short whistle, a younger man (really a boy, if his half-finished build and gangly limbs were any indication) materialized from a distant building, nodding in quick affirmation to her proposal / orders, as he stepped forward to take the reins of one of the team and stroke the equine’s bristled nose absently. The woman hardly spared the lad an appreciative glance, with all her authoritative attention focused upon Haru and the month warrior crew, yet was truly thankful not to be entirely alone dealing with this group of unknown variables even momentarily. Ryou had certainly done his best to feed her to the wolves to deal with this delicate matter in the most elegant way she knew how. Goddess help her...

Properly introduced by Haru’s confirmation, Alina bowed a polite inclination of her head and offered a gentler but still terse smile of her own. “The years have been kind.” She mused in agreement. Her eyes flickered a spark of something infinitely warmer at the guardians’ continued commentary: One part evidently satisfied to be remembered for her gifts from his last visit 10 years ago; the other a reluctant (at least to be seen expressed in front of a majority of strangers to be honest), reserved fondness for a missing member of the party mentioned previously.

“Yes… Ryou mentioned that it would be best to leave my bow behind in the barracks for your arrival, due to the sensitive nature of some of the month warriors arriving. However, I hazard the state of their-err, other world, if a bow would cause any remarkable reactions – mhm, they’re to be warriors, no?” Alina continued, a faint echo of wiry amusement yet callous intentions upon her breath, with an idle shrugged roll of her shoulders. Her smile faded to a her preferred neutral line, observing the collective of individuals as the last unloaded from the cart thoughtfully, harsh yet not entirely unwelcoming – at least two, the sun-daughter and the Halesian male, should very well know what a bow was / and that a war-bow wasn’t someone’s silly prized hunting weapon; the others only caught her glance long enough for her to understand they held themselves differently, not wrong per say, but something wasn’t right either. Though, Alina noted, that she should suspend further judgement until later on.

She flicked one of her hands up in a dismissive gesture towards the other student, who nodded respectfully in turn, stepping up into the wagon seat and took the offered reins from the cart-driver (who subsequently leaned back with a thankful but tired expression). The lad murmured soft encourage to the horses, resuming travel as they pulled away from the milling group and headed toward the barn and quaint pens beyond the three buildings standing before the group; the two men, younger and older, chatting softly but animatedly as they went. Over the creaking of the rattling wheels departing, Alina raised her voice and said quite simply, “Come,” with a brief, beckoning gesture of her hand, and turned on a bare heel – jewelry jingling pleasantly as she went.

As a tour guide, Alina proved to be more efficient than particularly informative, and the tour marched on quickly (with very little questions being answered frankly). As they crossed the open yard before the buildings, many things were noted in an idle fashion, including: To start, that the only sources of water upon the campus were the fountain and the deep well, and the necessity to treat such resources with care (w/out quite blunting the thinly veiled threat of what could happen should you do). Following that, all of the training seemed to be outdoors; from a few groups of other students scrunched together in the shade or various nocks and crannies with books / crude parchment / or intent listening to other ‘instructors’, a well-maintained sand-pit with a rack of swords near-by with a pair of sprawled / sweaty students taking a breather, to the distant but well maintained shapes of targets with a rack the included suitable bow shaped pieces of wood and string, to multiple trails disappearing off into the forest for endurance (she didn’t take enough time to mention that it would be unwise to wander off alone down them unless with another elder-student of the Academy until they grew more familiar, but that should be rather self-explanatory). And last, as nonchalantly as everything before, that the first, smallest stone-and-wooden building they passed without entering was Ryou’s home and left it at that.

At the next building, a much larger structure that resembled more of a barn or shed with doors that looked almost as heavy as the gate they’d arrived through and a high vault to the roof observed as they walked up to it. “These are the barracks.” Alina spoke shortly, as she pried open the door that gave muted groan and revealed the interior. The barn had been converted to a giant communal living area, much like any army not on the move / living out of tents, completed with orderly rows of wooden bed frames and more of the same located above in a balcony (once used for feed storage) connected via a rope ladder, and had a single stone fireplace on one side that was dead currently / but would be lit every night for warmth. Many showed signs of ownership, with mattresses, blankets, clothes, weapons, or various sentimental knick-knacks; and more were empty frames, void of anything including a mattress. Alina paused momentarily frowning, searching left and right with measured tilts of her head, before finding what she was looking for and started off again to weave between frames on the ground-level before stopping at a row of thirteen beds in a row in a lonelier corner of the barracks (eleven bare, and the last two already claimed with stuffed mattresses, thin blankets - and the furthest in the corner had a rusty oxen-bell attached to the foot, and a long-sword hanging sheathed at the corner of the head).

Alina turned to face the group and waved her hand in an encompassing gesture to the set-up directly behind her, “This is where you will be staying warriors,” Unspoken, she shared a brief glance towards Haru, who would not be sleeping with nor nearby the warriors; if Ryou didn’t simply demand the other man stay in his own home was one thing, otherwise he would be offered a location in the tier above out of respect undoubtedly. The pause finished, she turned her head to acknowledge a nearby corner as she continued, “We have straw available to make your bedding with, the liners are in one chest, and the other has blankets – one per person for now, once Winter arrives - considerations will be noted… It will be easier if you set your places up now, depositing any extra belongings you may have, before the dinner-chime calls from the mess hall calls and dark is upon you.” Alina fell silent, regarding them all with a cool expression, patiently folding up her jangling arms across her chest to wait for the warriors to get a ‘move on’. As it was clear this wasn’t like an inn they’d stayed in the night previously, without any maids to come and go and do such a thing themselves, and that your own sleeping arrangements was entirely up to yourself. However, now out of the abbreviated tour for the moment, she seemed more available to any questions or concerns that would pop up if anyone had something.

XXPerspectives

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XXTallyho AbelX

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XXHaru SinwoodX

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