Terra Firma

Kit slowly climbed down from a tree with her gatherings, sorting them and stuffing them into her bag. She glanced over her shoulder and could see the sun sit high above the Elvish Castle in the distance. She rolled her eyes at the overly large building and began to make her way back to her small house that sits in the middle of the forest. Kit had always wished to visit the castle, but could never bring herself to even get close to it. As she walked and occasionally gathered more plants and roots, she day dreamed of bigger and better places.




((I'm very sorry for any format mistakes or missing info when I post. Kinda new ._.))

Zallia knew the Prince had to be bored. She nodded slowly, tapping the hilt of her sword. "Oh course, Your- Nyks... Shall we go to the training grounds?"

(Whoops... posted it in the wrong place... Haha...)

Zallia waved her hands in front of her frantically, "It's nothing like that. I would be honored to teach you the way of the sword, Y-Nyks... A prince should know every way to protect themselves, if I'm not around, that is."
She let her hands drop to her sides. "I am honestly happy you want to learn how to wield a sword."

Zallia nodded. "Someone's in the castle. And I don't think he's here to visit your parents," she looked over at the Prince. "Just act as if nothing is wrong and follow me. I heard a small clatter, which could mean a weapon. We can't let him near you."
She walked down the hall quickly, making sure the Prince could still keep pace with her. She glanced back once or twice, but didn't make it obvious.

Nyks nodded and kept pace with his Guardian, hiding one of his small belt daggers in his sleeve, just in case. Having been in situations like this before, he felt fairly comfortable in acting normal when he felt like the situation was everything but that, and he trusted Zallia, as well as his own skills.

Lun Aivr sat in his chair with red cushions and golden tassels. He took a nimble of his white wine and nearly moaned of satisfaction because of the flavours that stroked his taste buds. Lun closed his eyes for a second. He was enjoying the little free time he had. Sitting in front of the warmth fire, the sweet aroma from the candles, the comfortable chair and the good tasting wine that was nearly a hundred years old. Lun grabbed his book about the secrets of time. The cover of the book was made of stone and it had two jade eyes. It resembles the face of a gargoyle, ancient tales said that they were the keepers of time. Lun Aivr took interest in the time after he heard that a barbarian chief from the Timeless was coming over him. In the letter he mentioned the seed of time, an powerful item that could intervene with the time. Aivr wonders how a noisy barbarian could get his hands on such rare item. He also wondered if it was true, maybe it was just a barbarian that visited the noble households to enjoy the privileges and the food. It could be all just a huge scam. The king of the elves must be sure if it's the real deal. So not he missed a huge opportunity or it could end up in the wrong hands, creating an large danger. Lun Aivr took another nimble, there was so much to think about it. One guard approached him, saying that there was an intruder.

''What? Who said that?'' Lun had his thoughts.
''Bodyguard Nevir, oh king,'' the guard answered and bowed his head.
''She's causing another uproar again?'' Lun muttered and shook his head.

The guard didn't know what to say, Zallia Nevir didn't caused so 'many' uproars that the king believed. Lun Aivr closed his book and stood up. He moved to the door and ordered the guards to open it.

''Come with me, I'm going to look for my son,'' the king said, leaving his room.

The armies of Drawin gathered to the Drawin-Cleein border. Tens of thousands of soldiers made camp near the border and awaited for more of the conscripted to come. Gerald planned on using his shock army to decimate Cleein before his conscripts moved in. The conscripts were nothing more than armed peasants and were useless when their numbers were matched. Fortunately, he still had his dragon, something that could match any army.

"We take hold of their villages between the border and Castle Graham. We can use everything there to supply our armies. The food, the people, and even the buildings can be stripped down. We'll force the criminals and bandits into our ranks to bolster them." He told his generals as he pointed at areas on a map in the command tent. "In the case that we fail and are pushed back, we need to make sure that nothing is usable to the enemy. Farmlands and villages razed, the people killed where they stand, even the animals must fall. Victory comes only to the determined and we, gentlemen, will not lose."

Zallia let out a small laugh. She was starting to like this Wind Spirit more and more. When he floated back to the ground, she jogged to catch up to him. "I wish I could fly. It must feel wonderful," she looked up at the sky. She had always wanted to fly, but the Winged Elves were nothing but myths. She was doomed to stay on the ground for the rest of her life. "Where have you been, Gali? You go wherever the wind takes you, correct? Have you traveled far?"

---

He couldn't help but grin at her enthusiastic dreams of flight, and stared up at the sky.
"Yes, it does. To be one with the wind and sky... its like... Hmmmmm... It is hard to put into words, but it is wonderful."
"Where have you been, Gali? You go wherever the wind takes you, correct? Have you traveled far?"
"Oh yes, the wind has taken me many places all over this planet, from the colored plains of Cleein to the frozen peaks of Dryot. Once I even spent several weeks on an ocean breeze, and was carried about like a fish in a tide." He chuckled at the memory and sighed happily.

Zallia giggled at the thought of Gali being like a fish. She continued to stare at the sky, "Sometimes I wish I could leave here, but I couldn't possibly leave His Highness."
She shook her head and adjusted her quiver of arrows. "So, are you skilled in swordplay?" she questioned, gesturing to his sword. "I apologize, I am simply rattling off questions now. It has been awhile since I talked to anyone but the Prince, the King, and the servants and guards."

---

Gali smiled and pulled down the black mask obscuring the bottom half of his face, it was starting to bug him at this point. "The only one I know of who speaks more than you is the Wind, though he doesn't usually ask so many questions... But yes, I am skilled enough with this blade to ensure my own safety." He drew his sword, the light ring of metal echoing unnaturally. It was a simple blade, but its metal held a slightly green tint to it. He flourished the weapon, slicing a falling leaf into equal halves and letting both halves fall on the blade's edge. He then let them fall to the ground as he sheathed the blade.
"It seems you are left at an impasse. How does one defend a prince while leaving his side? I believe I might hold a solution."

Zallia let out a small chuckle, "I suppose that is a reasonable enough question. I am not sure if the King has gone over my contract in a few years, but I am allotted three hours of free time during the day. I usually spend that time sleeping, but I had to get out of that dreaded castle for a few hours. And what could you possibly mean by 'solution'?"

She raised an eyebrow at him as they turned onto the main road that led away from the castle. It was a very beautiful day. Everything seemed very peaceful.

Killian had left Morashtar owing an acquaintance a drink which would nettle him until that debt was paid. He hated owing anyone anything, even something as petty as a drink. He had put that out of his mind though when the shadows and mists of the forest parted to unveil his tall frame upon his very fresian looking pure black horse. The air cleared of haze and gloom as he left the tree line behind him and stepped his horse out onto the open medium of a dirt road tracing the forest edge. Killian had chosen the most isolated forest in the region he could find on a map. From his modest little hamlet in his forest's center, that is the forest overlapping the woodland actual, he had ridden his beautiful black steed for approximately twenty miles before reaching the seldom traveled road he had come upon at wilderland's edge. Seldom, because grass grew lush on the mediums where wagons and horses did not tread. Traffic enough however that the tracks and ruts were solidly dirt and pebbles.

Killian always found it refreshing and tantalizing to explore an area for the very first time. To not know where this road led and to find the answer at the end of it, however far or near he had to ride or walk to get there. To meet the first humanoid he crossed paths with and hear them speak in their own dialect and make that first contact to communicate with them. His translator had never failed him on other worlds before this one. He'd find out if it failed him here. There was so much to discover on each new world. He looked forward to forging new acquaintances here. Oh he was vividly aware of the dangers lurking therein the unknown but Killian though cautious did not hide from unproven peril. Therefore he looked at the road north awhile then south and decided after a reflex to take the road south.

It was about midday as his muscular mount carried him at a pretty trot along the road. Killian had decided he'd travel until he either met a tavern, a pub or a good place to camp just shy of nightfall, whichever came first. He struck quite the figure along the road dressed all in black on his black horse whose mane and tail mirrored his own locks being so curly and long. Killian's raven ensemble was leather and cloth; leather boots and gloves, a leather and wool gambeson and vambraces, over wool breeches and a silk poet style shirt. The gambeson and vambraces were reinforced with studs made from a very resilient and shiny black metal from his home world. The last piece of clothing was a hooded great cloak. His was a mixture of styles from across worlds and ages that came together very handsomely. He could pass for a nobleman as easily as a highway man. Though Killian would postulate little difference between the two. Thieves appeared in all the classes. South he traveled at an unhurried pace though he occasionally gallopped Sid, the stallion's nickname, for exercise.

There were a few things worthy of noting about Killian right away. He loved his horse, his hair, the pair of wolves he left at home with his daughter Nuanui, and he loved his daughter. To love was a weakness he acknowledged but accepted the risk all the same. At peace here was a harmless, even a genial man. At war he was beyond fierce only you never saw it, only stone cold cunning. Today he was at peace. A charming and attractive friend you might make along the road. A pleasing fellow who might even lend a helping hand where needed.

Killian had several weapons on his person and saddle. A beautifully crafted bow of such a pale shade of wood with so little grain it looked made of bone. It was carved with ornate runes of outland elven kind in flowing patterns which followed the bows curves. The fletching of his arrows were made from white banded, tan feathers. His quiver was a pale color too, natural to its leather. His staff was bleached bone white driftwood, its shaft straight with a corkscrew twist from the vines that once twined it. In its rootball was a large, translucent crystal that was moss green at its center with a few flakes of gold suspended in the crystal. It too was carved with more than just decorative runes. The last weapon he carried was concealed, a large hunting knife. Killian hunted game and collected foods to feed himself. He used the knife to skin and butcher game, as a melee weapon if he had to. He needed to discover what the game laws were in his area before he ran out of food, and if he could stay where he was. No one else lived in that particular forest but that might not matter. He didn't care for the idea of getting arrested or hung for killing some nobleman's taboo deer or squatting in their wilderness. Killian had things to offer though, in exchange for hunting rights and the land, if not to purchase then to stay.