Rien Talvir's Story

The infamous specter glided over the street and drifted through the shadows like an ice cold breeze. Anything that intercepted the path of The Harvester merely passed through the aberration. Thanatos hovered above the fallen vampires, unseen by all except those able to peer into the realm of Spirits, and heaved the great scythe over his head. Death brought his weapon onto the corpses with a well practiced swing. It passed through their physical bodies, clung to their spirits, and yanked them free of their earthly prisons.

Rien turned around and, with a teasing, heavy sigh, walked toward her. "The tough act is over, yeah? I-" He froze, looking down upon her, noting that now she was passed out. He made a face, an expression of annoyance, with one lip lifted in a sneer and one eyebrow raised, but it melted into an easy smile. He reached down, grabbing a handful of frock to lift her up, then drape her over one shoulder. He would drop her off at an inn, perhaps.

He paused again, having turned a corner just in time to see a creature familiar from scriptures and myths wrench the souls from the unlucky bloodsuckers that had encountered the young girl. He averted his eyes as quickly as he could and turned the other way entirely. That was not something he wanted to be in trouble with, as much as he loved trouble. That would take flirting with death a little too literally.

"Please treat mistress Aera properly~ And do not worry about the harvestor. As long as you havn't evaded him before or cheated death then you're safe. Mistress Area and I are not however. I'm the dead half but when I go she goes....We had to fight and temporarily kill the last harvester... Seeing as how we are unable to do so again... I fear the worst for mistress...."

The ghostly blob named Myon took the form of her Mistress and began talking to you. She seemed to be able to express more emotions than the person whose form she took on. She seemed afraid and worried about her fate.

"Well," the elf snickered, "That might be a problem then."

It was an unfortunate truth that Rien had before been associated with a group of skypirates that sought eternal youth, and eventually, eternal life by using the life force of others. That was a life he had left behind, however.

Now he was associated with an elven mafia. Just as good.

"I do not think you should worry. I have an odd record of running away from death and succeeding."

As the vampiric souls wandered in a daze, Thanatos clapped his bony hands and gestured for them to form a line. They shuffled into position as the phantom reached into his robes and retrieved a massive leather-bound tome. The skull-shaped locking mechanism opened with a click before the book opened on its own accord. Its pages turned for several seconds before stopping. A long list of names, times, dates, signatures, and other obscure information filled the page.

Thanatos pointed at the page as each soul signed their name with a ghostly finger. The being was always wordless, but clear in meaning. He at last slammed the tome shut and returned it beneath his robes. Death then draped his cloak over the newly-departed souls and swaddled them with his cold embrace. His bony hand gripped the edge of his robe and jerked it over the group. They vanished in a cloud of smoke.

Death did not have time to pursue those who have cheated him. His schedule was far too busy. No, that task would be appointed to someone else...

"Eh? I sense that he is not the onewho will come after Mistress or myself... but...d-does that mean it will be somebody even s-s-scarier's job to do so?"

Myon quivered at the thought of something that was worse than the harvester. She decided to float near enough to the harvester so as to speak to him....as crazy as that may seem.

"U-Um...d-death?"

Myon approached Thanatos just as the entity dematerialized into a cloud of smoke and sent the three souls tumbling into Purgatory. His bleached white skull emerged from the swirling darkness and glared at her with empty black eyes. A perpetual grimace spread across the phantom's fleshless jaw. Lacking the distinctive black hood, a long fracture was evident along the skull where the bone was shattered.

Thanatos glared silently and expectantly at the spirit in annoyance.

"Ah, you are Thanatos...u-um... s-sorry for last time... We didn't mean to shatter your skull...but a-anyway.... May I ask who will be sent to... 'collect' Mistress and myself if not you?"

Myon seemed very nervous as this wasn't the first time she met this harvester. The last time they met, Aera and Myon had done a hit and run type thing. Smashing Thanatos's head with both magic and spirit-cleaving steel. They ran shortly after that. Myon doesn't know whether or not the fracture is from them but she saw the need to apologize anyway to avoid opening old wounds.

For days, the vultures had circled overhead, following him. They weren't the normal, shy kind, no. Vicious and nasty things they were. Curved beaks and thirty foot wingspans. Feathers filled with parasites and loaded with diseases of every kind. Ugly, ugly birds. The elf couldn't find himself liking them... but who was he to talk? Scraping from the bottom of the barrel for any sliver of sanity he could find. Preying on those weaker than him. Scavenging.

Oh, yes. He and the vultures weren't so different after all. And, in such a state, he couldn't help but feel a bought of self-loathing lump in his gut. All that pride had festered away after he'd swallowed it to try and save himself and it had gotten him nowhere.

And this is how it would end, the elf thought. The one who'd called himself King, who ruled over none. Or perhaps now, he thought with a chuckle, sloped in a cradle of roots. King of Vultures. Over the last day, when they'd flown down to greet him, he'd cut them down with what little strength he had left. Their bodies littered the space around him. They only drew more.

He'd been a beautiful man once upon a time. His golden hair and olive skin were covered in dirt, though. His limbs were thin enough to see bone. His face was gaunt, cheeks sunk in. Eyes blue with circles beneath them.

His last wish was that he would have been that way upon his dying bed. A vain thing he was.

Hunting was a natural sport to an archer, especially one who was always set out on a journey to gain skill in the finest of forms. Thievery, archery, hunting, killing, skinning, and of course cooking were some of the strongest traits to uphold when living anywhere but an actual home. It was always a forest, or some sort of open grassy area that had the finest catches, too. At least, that's what a lone hunter would figure.

There she was, again in another deep forest, but this one seemed different than the previous ones she'd frequented. During her time as a provider for a small group of kids, she was always known to travel through woods that were within close proximity from the camps the children created and resided. But this time was different. For a long time, she had been traveling with her brother, Brendan, but had lost track of him during one long battle with some foreigners who tried to overtake the lands they'd try to establish a life in.

Alia Berit, the younger of a pair of twins who had set out on a journey for happiness and freedom, was the one now venturing on her own to try and find a purpose through the array of loneliness that accompanied her after losing her brother. She wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but one thing was for sure - she'd find him. She had gotten a rough start so far, but it didn't keep her down. She had to continue searching for him, even if that meant that she would find her beloved brother dead in a ditch somewhere with his head lobbed off. She was determined, and when determination strikes a strong-willed human, they stop at nothing to find what they're searching for.

---

Food was always scarce when she traveled, especially since all the food she ate was hunted, killed, and cooked by her alone, so a lot of it went to waste almost immediately. What ever was left over from a meal was always trash, so the hunter would leave the area and let the buzzards get to it, seeing as how they had a certain finesse in cleaning up old morsels. They never got tired, it seemed, those ugly winged things. But who was she to judge? Every living thing had a place in the world; she was just here to help the circle of life stay complete.

It wasn't long after she had gotten done hiking through the dank forest, that she stumbled upon what seemed to be a mass of vultures picking at a human-like figure. Seeming as though she may find hope in them still being alive, she prepared an arrow to shoot at the group so they'd fly away from the figure and leave it be.

With a swift movement, Alia reached back into her quiver and pulled out a sturdy, homemade, wooden arrow with a stone head attached to it. She then lifted her bow in front of her, and lined the arrow up on the marker, and pulled the string back to its taut limit. She aimed, closing one eye for specificity. When her arrow was pointed to the general direction of the group of birds, she released the bow's string, letting the arrow fly towards the birds and the figure they were pecking at, hoping that they'd abandon the area so she could investigate the scene.

Two orange eyes were visible beneath the whirlwind of black feathers that marked the departure of the large vultures. They blanketed the area- those that had been shed, and those that still clung to dead and rotting corpses that circled a heavily cloaked figure snuggled within the roots. His hair pasted onto his skin with sweat and dirt. Despite his state, a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"And here, I thought I was dead," came a silky whisper, just audible enough for the woman to hear. "Or do I speak too soon?"

Success! A mild smirk inched across Alia's face as she watched the birds scatter away from the figure. She grunted with satisfaction and lowered her bow down to her side. She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, and made her way on over to the figure that the vultures were trying to pick at. Cautiously, she stepped her way over, and let a soft gasp escape her as she heard the faint sounds of a man's voice break the stillness of the air. "You're.... alive?" Her voice was mildly deep and calm, but concerned nonetheless.

She knelt down in front of him to observe his frail state, and sighed softly, a grimace washing over her plain face. She breathed heavily, and set her bow down next to her, as well as un-equipping the quiver from her back. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the man, and also wonder what had happened to him that left him in this deathly state. She pursed her lips, studying him some and looking him up and down. She then shifted her gaze to settle on his orange eyes, narrowing her own to better capture the idea of them. He definitely wasn't human. Still, that didn't warrant judgment. At this moment, she was more focused on what put him in this state. "What happened to you?"

The elf's hand lifted from its place to gesture at his chest with bony fingers. "Ran into a bit of a dispute, I'm afraid. There are people in this world who don't know how to listen to reason. Isn't that a shame?" he chuckled sourly. "Those people left me abandoned in a place like this with no one to keep me company. A cruel and unusual circumstance."

He didn't have any visible wounds, but he did arch forward in a fit of coughs that further weakened him. "Ah, but how lucky am I. Not every day I see a pretty face before my untimely death."

As the elf told his brief story of how he'd ended up here, Alia felt even worse for the man. She hoped he was just in a slum and she'd be able to maybe nurse him back to health - at least enough so that he could get up and walk. Wait, could he walk? Could he move... at all? She pondered for a moment, her lips still pursed. She groaned softly, letting out a soft sigh, and shifting her position so that she'd be sitting cross-legged in front of him. "What kind of dispute? You look pretty banged up," she started, and then cleared her throat to continue on with the rest of her sentence. "Those... people... who are they? Where did they come from?"

She managed to stop herself at that point, feeling as though her curiosity would drive her to ask too many questions that maybe he couldn't answer, or didn't have the strength to answer. The remorse inside her was quickly building, and it actually made her heart hurt for the man. What could she do? She let a light smile play at the corners of her mouth when he complimented her, and she let out a tiny chuckle beneath her heavy breathing. "Even dying, you're a charmer, huh....? Who would do this to you?... I don't understand..." She shook her head, completely unnerved about the patrons in the area, wondering if she'd be able to help scope them out for him. After all, she only wanted to help.

"Distasteful... piratey sorts," the man chuckled weakly. "Perhaps I came to depend on them far too much. They are long gone now. Left by skyship," he told her. He was keeping the slivers of his mind away from her for now, as hungry as they were to latch onto her and establish a connection she would find rather uncomfortable should it be forced upon her.

"But... even with them gone, I could use aid," he breathed. His hand sailed over to the hood atop his head, pulling it back to reveal his long, pointed ears. That same hand slid down his face, over his mouth, to hide a small, but brief grin. "Perhaps you could tell. I'm not human, as I'm sure you are. And not your... everyday elf."

The archer's eyes narrowed at the elf's mention of the culprits who put him in this situation. She nodded her head along as he continued with his statement and how he explained that they had escaped, so that instantly put a damper on her hopes to help avenge him. She sighed softly and lowered her gaze to stare at the dark ground in front of her. She plucked at some of the short blades of grass in between her crossed legs, and chewed on the inside of her cheeks some. All of what he explained was absolutely depressing. The lack of humanity running in the world now'a'days was revolting. She felt for this man, and hoped that what ever service she had available to offer would help him recover quickly and get him back on his feet.

With that thought in mind, she then shifted her position, spreading one leg out to the side and dug into one of her deeper pockets to pull out an old clear baggy. Grinning slightly at it, Alia returned her sitting position to cross-legged, and then searched through the bag to pull out some skinny pieces of jerky that she'd made recently. She let out a small huff and handed it over to the man, once again making eye contact with him as he spoke about his race. The archer gave one quick nod and smiled a bit at the confession, her gesture noting that it was apparent she knew of his difference in species. "I could tell you were something of the sort, judging from the color of your eyes." She blinked a couple times at her own statement, frowning at the mention of eyes, simply because hers were so plain and dull.

She quickly shrugged off the thought and cleared her throat once again, feeling the tension building up at her judgmental comment. "Well, you can eat up. It's not much, but it's something. I made it myself." She said nudging the jerky closer towards him, hoping he'd accept the favor.

Amused, the elf took the jerky between his weak and spindly fingers. Food wasn't his main concern, though his emaciated appearance boasted otherwise. The health of his body depended on other things, most of the time. But, to humor the human woman, he took a bite.

"It will sate my appetite, but sadly... food is not what will save me today," he rasped, giving the woman long and sorrowful eyes. "But what I could ask of you would not be a favor I could beg, even in the most grim of situations. Hardly a soul would be so kind as to extend the grace."

Alia narrowed her eyes at his suspicious statement while he chewed on the jerky. Her mind was forming awkward thoughts again, but that was pretty normal for her. She wondered what exactly he had meant by 'food will not save me today'. It was an odd statement, indeed, and the archer was intrigued. She pulled out a piece of jerky for herself and chewed at the tough snack, leaning closer to him. "Sounds....vague...." she said around her chewing. The elf seemed very odd, and it was disheartening to witness his doomed attitude. If she could help him in any way, she would.

Alia sat there for a moment chewing on her jerky, contemplating her next statement. She stared intently into his eyes, studying them for a moment before allowing her gaze to bounce around his pointed ears, and the skeleton-like features that engulfed his current state. A frown settled upon her lips, and she let out a soft huff as a reasonable thought finally came through. "Well, what ever it is, just say it. I'll help you no matter what."

He could hardly control himself now. His giddiness showed only through his eyes, but it fought him for more. "Oh, it's so intimate a proposal. So personal," he sighed. He rose one, singular finger up to his head and tapped his noggin.

"I need your mind. My health... it is dependent on my mental state. A Toan elf cannot be without another to share minds with. We are strong telepaths and empaths. I doubt you've heard of us. We've been spread thin in this world, and isolate ourselves among our own kind. We have amazing gifts at that... expense," he explained, letting his hand drop. The skin seemed to grey.

"It would be easy to force myself onto you, but I could not. I've tried to take from the fauna around, but that, too, would only degrade me... bring me to their level..."

Alia sat there while he spoke with a blank expression now plastered on her face. She stared at his face with a dull gaze, her expression showing absolutely unamused. Slowly, one of her eyebrows arched itself high on her forehead as her eyes widened from their narrowed state. She was intrigued, nonetheless, but it was a very strange request that she wasn't exactly sure how to respond to. "My.....mind....?" She asked, her brows now furrowing, confusing blatantly changing her expression.

She remained sitting there, unmoving and unsure of what to actually say. What could she say? This guy was asking to dip into her mind so that he could be rejuvenated. She was skeptical of him now, especially after his comment regarding how easy it would be to force himself onto her, but still she tried to remain optimistic. It was her duty, her life goal, to help those in need, and this man apparently needed her mind. But how would that work? What would be required? Would he have to snatch a part of her soul, or her brain? Would he eat her?

The archer shook that disturbing thought from her head, and then then let out a small sigh, and lowered the jerky in her hand towards her lap. "What....do you have to do? You're not going to kill me, are you?" Her voice was practically trembling now. Trepidation was apparent in her tone, and she drew herself away from from him to sit upright and brace herself for his response.