Fleur confessed that she wasn't doing anything special lately, other than getting lost again. A small grin played across Rillian's face for a moment. Everyone in the Lost had something special about them, and Fleur's thing was getting lost. It sort of fit her. She was in a rebel group called the Lost and she got lost often. Irony was funny.
Morgan dragged Clyde off to the back and the two continued talking. Rillian was curious but she knew better than to disrupt the conversation of the leader and his second and command. Maybe they were planning a new raid. That would be exciting and a break from the monotony. Even if it was dangerous. If there was a good enough plan danger could be reduced.
Kyveli shook her head at Rillian's question. It was true there wasn't much to do but there had to be something people were doing in the meantime.
I guess not. Nevertheless, it was good to try at conversation, even if it fell flat. In a raid things could be planned to a certain extent. People guarding things would have orders to do certain things and act certain ways. They had an objective in mind: to keep whatever they were guarding safe. In a conversation no one had orders or directions. It was much harder to predict how people would react. You couldn't even tell what they wanted unless they straight out told you. Even then they could be lying. Sometimes raiding was much simpler than talking to people.
Morgan and Clyde left. Kyveli would probably be in charge in their absence.
Rillian rubbed her arms again. The feeling they had was honestly unpleasant; they felt sort of asleep. "I
need to fly. I'm just going to head out to the roof and change. I won't be long."
Rillian stood up and left the common room. She took the stairs to the top of the roof and changed shape. She looked about with her keen osprey eyes. The run down city wasn't much to look at, especially for a bird of prey, but at least people were not inclined to look at the sky in it. Launching into the air, she couldn't surpress a
screech of pleasure. Flying equated freedom, even if there were some risks to it.
The rivers of air were buoyant enough to support her. Rillian slowly spiraled upward, surveying the city from her height. Some movement at the base of the mill caught her eye. Someone was milling about, probably looking for an entrance. What the heck was he doing? She angled downward and circled about aout ten feet over his head. Landing on a window ledge she rapped the window loudly with her beak twice, the signal that something was going on outside. She looked down at the man. He didn't look like anything special, but that could easily be a disguise. Rillian fluttered down to a lower perch to get a better look at him. There was nothing that out of the ordinary about him, but he did carry a pack with him. Could he be carrying explosive? Another screech, a warning this time, warbled out of her throat. If this man tried anything funny she would defend her home and friends.
Vernigen followed Tallen to a sewage pipehole. With brief words she told him her plan and he nodded. He decided to stay out of the way unless she needed help. Tallen seemed to be fine with that. Vernigen went to a pile of rubbish behind some garbage cans, pretending to be fully absorbed in trying to find something useful in the junk.
Sooner than later he heard a male voice explaining the attributes of members of the underground. Then Tallen said, "
I'd honestly hoped you'd be a bit more of a challenge to catch, Kishitora...but thank you. You've provided me with the Intel that I need about the underground. It will be easy aprehending the Prince now."
Kishitora? That was the code name of the Knight Morgan before he left and formed the Lost. So Tallen had him. "
You are the one known as Clyde, no? Your number...what was it...ah yes, I remember now. 0-5-1-3-7, and your power...a minor type of Pyrokenisys. Family of two other siblings, both male, one deceased. Parents deceased soon after your younger brother was born. No, you are not on my capture list, you may go," Vernigen's fellow knight continued.
Vernigen heard a faint cracking noise. He slowly moved over so he could see what was going on. He would be visible to others now, but that could help Tallen if she was in trouble. There was strength in numbers. He saw two orange haired males confronting Tallen, one of them being Morgan. Vernigen hadn't actually seen Morgan in real life before but he could recognize the once-Knight from pictures. Morgan had apparently broken through Tallen's power.
"I take it...you're a Knight, correct?" Morgan said.
Vernigen took a step forward, about to announce himself, when he felt a shiver of pain brush up against his body. It was gone in an instant, but it made him stumble. In his haste to regain balance he stepped on an old, brittle metal can, the resulting crunching noise horribly loud. With more graceful steps he made his way to Tallen's side. There was no chance of a surprise attack now. What was with the pain?
"Yes, Kishitora, we are Knights. This will be easier if you surrender now." Vernigen said. It wasn't a walk in the park to say a truthful statement in this situation. His mutation was an annoyance. Vernigen desperately wished he had his staff with him now. Oh well, hands would have to do. "What say you, Ki-"
Vernigen gasped as the pain hit him again. This time it was hot, raging hot, and shot throughout his body. He crumpled over and curled up into a fetal position as the pain continued. It felt like every nerve was being burned, electrocuted, and jabbed with needles all at the same time. Normally it would have been embarassing to be curled up like a small child in front of enemies but at the moment Vernigen could care less. He couldn't think of anything other than the pain. His breathing rate accelerated and he became totally unaware of anything else. Thankfully unconciousness enveloped him like a soft, dark blanket that shut out the intolerable, mind numbing pain.
-----
Although he was unaware of it Vernigen's body changed. It lengthened and stretched. Clothes melted away. Red and blue wings sprouted from his back. His skin changed to a blood red and his entire body became serpentine. His alternate body and personality had taken over.
-----
Veritas found himself lying on the ground. He quickly rose and opened his eyes. His surroundings were blurry at first but they came into focus within seconds. The last time he had emerged he had been in a different place, one with far less people. No people, in fact. This time there were other beings, sentient beings, who were present. Of course, he had only emerged once before, so he had little idea of the surrounding area. He was weaker then. He wasn't used to having a physical form at the time, and still probably wouldn't have perfect coordination, but he was more ready for true life than before.
He looked at the people around him. One was a female with a white haze about her that had streaks of the dark blue color of caution. There was a male with an eyepatch and orange hair who also had dark blue in his aura but he had a more curious blend of determination's stone grey and anger's burnt orange. Another oranged-hair male had a fiery red aura of bright-as-blood recklessness.
It looked like some sort of fight was going on, or at least a conflict. It probably would have been easiest for Veritas to just leave the scene, but that would have been cowardly and undignified. Instead he stretched his wings and let a growl rumble out of his throat, just to show the humans that he was not to be taken lightly. He was terribly outnumbered and slightly unused to a body, but they didn't need to be reminded of that. What they did need to know was how impressive he was.
"I am Veritas," he announced, his voice a little raspy. What should he say past that? He wasn't sure, but
something would be better than sitting around and looking stupid. Perhaps something awe inspiring or threatening? No, that wouldn't be the best idea. He was outnumbered, after all. If he was perceived as too much of a threat that would be just as bad as being viewed as a weakling. He flicked his tail uneasily. Veritas couldn't really control when he emerged, and now definintely was a bad time to have done so. Oh well. He couldn't take that back now. Who knew when he would have another chance to live? "What is going on here?" he asked.
Probably not the most eloquent of questions, but it would get information flowing. If the situation turned sour he could still turn tail. He found himself mot wanting this, though. He wanted to pick a side amongst these humans. The world was empty when it was lonely. Without telling them he decided this would be a time for them to try to win him over. Although he didn't know it, Veritas was going through a sort of imprinting stage. Like a baby bird to its mother, he would imprint on a living thing that he would acknowledge as a leader. This could be changed, but it wouldn't be easy to break a first impression. He was still rather new to real life instead of being an experiment induced fragment of conciousness.
Veritas looked expectantly from human to human, wanting an answer and wanting it soon. Why were they taking so long?