Darkest Dreams

[Chris Locke]

((Open))

August near Erebus had always usually been a dry month. Little rain had fallen over the past ten years in what was forecast as a long season of predictable drought, perhaps only enough moisture to ensure that the smaller animals and plantlife of the region had enough resource to survive the chilling winters and the blistering summers that were to follow, but not enough to support any major life without man made water reserves. In the wet months that only came once every two years, however, the rain fell heavily and unpredictably on the plains of Erebus, the barren lands of mainland Alerar and mountainous terrain near Kachuck. Vicious electrical storms often occurred during these somewhat frightening periods of time and it had occurred to the local residents that Erebus, for this reason, was probably the worst place to situate a town or settlement.

It might have been fate that the shaggy and battered form of Chris Locke had been spat out in the midst of probably one of the rarer of electrical storms to hit the region in the past years. It could have been a small and ironic co-incidence that the tone of the tempest correctly highlighted the mood of the boy's exile as the white noise portal pulsed into life, opening like a tear of fabric in a piece of material before spewing out its contents violently into a nearby cluster of rocks, closing with the same instantaneous connotation it had come to exist in. As the humming drew to a close, the boy finished log rolling across the floor in a painful fashion, smashing his pale nose on a fragment of moss smothered granite. Streaks of red streamed from his nose and mixed with the hammering rain to create a watercolour of scarlet on his clean shaven face, his blonde hair darkening in tone as the water saturated it into thick twisted strands.

The boy tried desperately to get to his feet, shoving his muddied hands into the swirling pools of filthy earth beneath him in order to push himself up in a press up motion, but he slipped again and fell face first back into the dirty grass. His denim jeans now torn, his bloodied nose streaming and his body smothered in liquid mud and saturated with rain, Chris Locke had been welcomed to Althanas in a most unpleasant way. He would not give up though, once again finding any little bit of strength he could dig up to try and will his muscles to allow him the gift of movement. Eventually, finally, he managed to use his shaking right hand to grasp a jagged piece of rock and drag himself underneath the limited shelter of a nearby tree, pressing his aching back up against the solid trunk of the fir as he brushed away the prickly branches that jutted out.

"You're going to be a powerful asset to us one day, Chris..."

Suddenly, the rain ceased. The pain retreated, and the bluey green eyes of the boy no longer flickered around his new surroundings but instead looked up at a collection of unfamiliar faces, each of the seven men and women donning surgical masks and clean white coats. He felt himself lying on a cold surface, his thin patient robes not enough to prevent the cold steel from irritating his skin, his head resting on a makeshift pillow made from sheets. There was a great burning sensation in his head, and everything appeared liquid and distorted much like a drunkard would experience after a heavy social evening. He could feel the mind probes of the cult working away at his cerebrum, scanning his brain to survey his state. He had just awoke from a long sleep.

"The blocks are wearing off. The coma must have weakened them...but his psychosis is still strong...should we terminate?"

The heckling of the 'mind surgeons' filled the room, Chris's mind jumping between states of focus and distraction as the banter and debates between the medical staff continued on and on like the persistent droning of a machine. He could feel tinges of anger build up inside of what was left of his conscious self. These people were casting judgement on his life without even consulting him as he lay helpless on some alien medical trolley, surrounded by doctors of the Brotherhood. The mind probes were trying to keep him sedated, almost to a fatal point. But why? What was the point? Was he so much of a threat that he had to be kept on a leash? The questions flooded the only active part of his brain, and suddenly, his seemingly helpless body jerked.

"What the hell..." One of the more senior staff mumbled, examining his specimen closer. "Did he just...?"

There was a shout, followed by a high pitched screaming as the surgeon levitated into the air, his wind pipe crushing more with every passing moment. In a matter of seconds the lifeless corpse of the doctor thudded to the floor, tossed into a nearby wall for effect by the powerful and uncontrolled telekinesis of Chris Locke. Other staff ran to his aid to suffer the same, gruesome fate.

And then all went black.

A clap of thunder and the relentless snare of rain droplets hammering the granite surroundings preceded the distorted memory like a concerto as the bitter taste of blood began to dawn on Chris's senses, causing his mind to revert to his real time situation. With his back propped against the bark of the tree, his now soaked suede jacket cushioning his spine, he stopped his struggling against the weather and began to survey his problems. He had no idea where he was. He could only remember portions of what had happened, and what he did remember was not enough to establish what was going on. He was injured, tired and soaked.

Chris peered down in a painful grimace at his right glove, in which a glowing blue crystal seemed to be embedded. He ran a bloodied finger over its smooth surface and tried to establish what the object was.

Minerva... He slowly thought to himself as he stroked the surface again. Minerva Crystal...but where is the...Archangel?

Limited in movement from the pain, and drained of the will to search in the furious conditions he was stuck in, Chris shuffled himself further back until he was almost completely sheltered from the rain. Not that it mattered, seeing as his entire being was soaked in mud and rainwater, but perhaps it was just a psychological comfort to him.

Wait...wait for help...

[Ayithe Solete]

The mud squelched underneath each footstep she took, turned into slush from the ever falling rain. It had been hammering down on her head and shoulders for hours slowly wearing her down like unearthed limestone. Clinging her arms around herself she pushed on slowly coughing while, being thrown about by the wind as it lashed about violently and unpredictably like a wild animal. Ayithe shook feverishly, it was so cold and with no shelter or protection she had foolishly made her way across the region. The grass tried desperately to hold the ground together as Ayithe walked across it but gradually the heavy downfall was literally ripping it and sliding it down the hill sides. It wasn’t long before it had soaked up more than it could handle and Ayithe with no mind of her own collapsed onto her back as the ground shifted from under her. Her soaked hair and pale body quickly became full of thick rain sodden mud.

Landing in the plunge pool of mud at the bottom of the hill Ayithe dragged herself through it and rolled over. Her hair hanging over into her face she knocked it backwards and let the rain wash the remaining mud from her now closed eyes. It felt almost like hail as it struck her face hard and Ayithe leaned onto her side holding her hand over her face. Opening her eyes she looked around her as her disk blades were starting to be absorbed into the ground. Coughing hard she wiped her face again and shivered as she scavenged through the mud not wanting to lose them. Her head began pounding again as she tried to concentrate to pick up her weapons and clip them back to her belt. She slipped again as she moved on all fours landing face first in the mud, quickly she sat back up and it didn’t take long for her face to be washed clean as the rain wasn’t stopping any time soon. Picking up her Disk Blade she could feel her chest getting tighter and her coughing became more constant as she forced herself out of the plunge pool of mud and onto an old path. Almost nothing but rocks now, it had become a river since the water has washed the dirt out from between. Ayithe used it to stand and waded her way through the shallow river along the hill side.

The various trees had made little difference to stopping the rain yet the ahead a large Oak tree had pushed up against a fallen Rock and created a large dry hole by the side of the hill, the various rocks surrounding the tree had kept the ground risen slightly higher than the surrounding land and Ayithe heavily footed stomped her way under the rock for a rest and a chance to recover from the rain. An old pile of logs and ash remained by the entrance to the cave like hole but appeared rather old, someone had been here before and various objects lay stridden about the inner side. Old and rusty they hadn’t been used in a while but it was still dry and a place to stay. Ayithe fell to her knees as she entered and quickly squeezed her hair to clear it of some rain and mud. She dropped to a sitting position and watched the stream of water run down the dry dirt and into the slush outside of the trees protection.

Exhausted she breathed heavily as the cold was eating her from the inside, looking around the cave a few old blankets were shoved in the rocks. It must have been used as a stopped place for many people who passed through here, not being able to think her first step was to try and dry herself. Dragging herself across to the blankets she pulled a large one over her and rubbed her body over and over to get as dry as she could until she felt she was warming up. The wind howled as it blew through the hole and back out again, Ayithe held the blanket tightly around her and gripped it hard with her hands. Slowly it was starting to do its job and Ayithe began to warm up, with the wind no longer blowing against her she took the moment to reset the fire. Bashing and twisting some sticks fresh from the tree she didn’t take too long to start the fire, starting rather quick it rose up and danced in front of her. She watched it as the small theatre performed its show with various dancing flames while it heated its audience. Fortunately her Darkling skin made attire was pretty water proof and dried up quickly protecting and her shivering began to slow as her skin slowly regained its natural colour.

A large clap of thunder diverted her attention, peering into the cloud filled skies she watched as bolts of lightening ripped through the air and struck the ground with a tremendous fearful eruption which shook the very air surrounding her. She closed her eyes and too ka deep breath as her chest still felt pretty tight, the urge to remove her top for release was tempting but she knew full well it wasn’t her top making it hard to breath. It was the cold unforgiving rain that crashed into the ground around her that had been slowly killing her. Ayithe remained sat, looking back across the land various potholes were easy to pick out as the water fell into it, creating waterfalls under ground and huge under water lakes. If she was to fall in one of those she wasn’t going to get out, only winged creatures or adaptable climbers were at ease there. Another hill of hard granite rocks stood held together by another tree not far from her, Ayithe stared as she saw what she thought was another person. The chances were low out here at this time of year and Ayithe rubbed her eyes as she watched him stumble down the rocks and out of sight. Trying to ignore it Ayithe sat still for a moment but seeing that he had clearly fallen her conscience kept building up on her to if he was alright.

Well, if it were me, I…I guess I should at least see if he’s ok…

Still not as well as she would like to be Ayithe stood back up, pushing the now damp blanket back under the cave hole she turned back to the granite rocks down the path. Gritting her teeth Ayithe made a dash along the path turned river for better grip over the floor, she quickly felt cold again as the rain showered down and soaked her once more. Managing to shift across quite quickly the weather eventually came to her runs demise. Keeping to the rocks it she stepped on one with a large rock covered in soaked grass, instantly losing her footing she came crashing down with a shriek from her as she hit the ground.

God Damn it! She shouted at herself inside. She slid along for a moment as her momentum pushed her onwards till she grabbed a stone. Pulling herself up once more a large clap of thunder shook the ground again and she dropped to one knee under the pressure of the rain. She was drenched already, and now got back up to wander carefully onto the rocks. Already the mud was being washed out of her hair and off her back before she had chance to worry about it she carefully got onto and climbed up over the rocks to spot the same figure sat up against a tree. He was also shaking and quickly but carefully she climbed down the rocks to approach him unaware if he could see her the rain still poured onto her and the sound made it hard to hear as she tried shouting to him.

“Hey! Are you alright?”

[Shadar]

Not far from two humans was a curious mound of stone. At first, it might have looked like any other outcropping above the body of small lakes that was forming, but the front of it was open slightly. Through that wide window, the two creatures inhabiting the makeshift bunker watched the storm. One with fascination, for she had never seen anything like this before. In her few months of existence so far, she had been in battles and had magical lightning arcing toward her as she flew. But, today it fell from the sky as if the enemy was hiding in the clouds.

The other watched without paying any attention. Deep within his mind, he was working upon the tree he had claimed hours ago, the one that now only remained as a stump a few feet away that was too smooth to have been cut by a blade.

Ok. Just weave it together, but really really small. Like thread or something, said the raspy voice in his head.

Like this? he responded as he concentrated and unraveled a section of the tree into the barest of fibers. Then, he threaded them in and out like the pattern he remembered in wicker baskets. It was too small to properly see the weaves, though, and it only created about a square foot, but he could sense how rigid and watertight it was.

Meh, that’ll do. You’re no Martha Stewart, though.

… I don’t know who-

The internal dialogue ended as lightning struck a good distance away but right in their frame of view, causing both the man and woman to jump. “I like this,” she said after a few moments of the deafening silence that seemed to follow the blast. Her green eyes sparkled with delight and her fiery red hair seemed to shine in the sporadic illumination. A rare childish grin overtook her face, though she hugged her wings tighter around herself as if slightly afraid.

The man just chuckled as he studied her reaction despite the afterimage that seemed plastered to his corneas. He ran his gloved hands through his short silver hair, a twitch some would say, and looked back out at the storm. With his mind focused, he saw what she meant. The drumbeat of thunder with the constant tempo of the rain as it flooded the area in front of them, the almost rhythmic flashes of lighting high in the clouds alongside the glimmers of light that appeared to be from the sun. It was truly beautiful, but in an apocalyptic sense. He was the kind of guy who could appreciate a good apocalypse.

That lovely picture of destruction was interrupted, though, as a woman emerged from the rocks to their left and struggled across the flooding landscape to the outcropping to their right. There, a lone treetop could be seen standing behind the rise. Even from this distance and low angle, one could see that the place she ran from had far more shelter than where she was heading.

Both the half-elf and the harpy stared for the entire duration of that woman’s sloppy, careening journey. When she finally disappeared behind the rise, they looked at each other and gave a silent nod as if to prove that neither of them had just imagined it.

Three… two… one…

“I guess we should go help her, right?” the man sighed. He had no idea why she was out here, especially dressed as she was. Just from the amount of skin showing, she seemed the type to be far more comfortable in a seedy part of Radasanth than these desolate, storm-wracked plains. Of course, the harpy at his side wore nothing and had a chest to put that girl to shame, and Radasanth’s back alleys were the last place she would want to be. Book by its cover, and all that, he reminded himself.

Resolutely, the harpy nodded. She never required an explanation from him, as she would follow him anyway. But, the fact that he always seemed to consider her opinion made her stern mouth quirk up a bit.

The man raised his hands and pressed them to the half-closed opening in front of them. Like water through a funnel, the rock drained into his black gloves. What had once appeared to be leather now rippled like inky water as it drank the stone blockade. With the exit open, he stepped out into the rain. Instantly, it soaked his hair and gathered in the high collar of his sleeveless, open black coat. Only the tight woolen shirt underneath kept it from running straight through him. Quickly, as the sensation of the wetness advancing downward unnerved him, he raised a fist to the sky and from it was born the material he had created only moments ago. It flowed outward like a puddle of glue, the wood grain shifting like a living organism until it reached the shape he desired. Holding the rigid wooden umbrella aloft, he looked back at the harpy as she stood and pressed her body against his shoulder with wings folded just enough to hold him without impeding movement. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist and said with a dry chuckle, “Hold on. We’re gonna fly.”

Then, he leapt forward. It wasn’t true flight but rather the kind of jump a man-sized cricket could make. In that one bound, he was a third of the way to the outcropping that the drenched woman had slid behind. Landing softly on a solid lump of earth amid the rising sea, he pushed off again and flew to the top of the highest stone. From there, he could see the woman vaguely through the rain as she appeared to be timidly approaching the tree. Momentarily, he was distracted from their quarry as the harpy tensed her body. Rain had gotten under the umbrella in all that motion, and wet feathers were something a bird didn’t like in the slightest. Flexing his hand, the man summoned the moisture into the nothingness of his glove and she appreciatively pressed her cheek to his shoulder. With a timid, almost boyish grin at that little exchange, the man drifted down next to the woman as if his umbrella was what had kept him aloft.

Jeez, going all Poppins like that. You trying to freak people out? the internal voice snapped teasingly.

The man would have sent an appropriately bitter thought in return, or at least asked what the hell a Poppins was, if not for what he saw under the tree. Both him and the harpy stared once more, this time at a young man bloodied and bruised. There were no consolatory words from either of them, just a startled exclamation from the man. “Holy shit.”

[Chris Locke]

The distorted words of his sudden company wittled their way to Chris's ears through the thundering rain, almost completely drowned out by the consistant pounding of the water on his jacket and the branches above his head. Through hazy eyes he obeserved each of them slowly, the form of the woman blurring and coming into focus at random intervals and that of the man almost completely blocked off by torrents of free running rainwater trickling over the boys right eye, but he hardly reacted to their presence. He could feel his muscles tiring on his framework, could detect the injuries he had sustained a lot more clearly since the shock of his portal experience and realised that without desperate medical attention, he could find himself in deeper trouble than he would like to be in. He spluttered a cloud of watered down blood into the air, and watched as it simply dissipated in the volume of water that was falling onto him. Gasps of painful breaths followed an attempt to turn air into words, hampered by the downpour bombing into his face.

"Get away..."

The roar of the storm esculated further, drowning out his pained tones and broken sentence completely. Forks of lightning reached across the sky accompanied by a concerto of thunderous applause, further illuminating the blood soaked face of the psychic and highlighting the expressions of sheer pain as his face twisted and contorted like wire.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

With a roar, the psychic's once sullen and defeated eyes lit up and an eeries pulse erupted around the battered body of the boy, his hair blowing in an artificial gust created by the force of his psychokinesis. Small stones and the bloodsoaked rock which Chris had injured himself began a slow ascension into levitation, and wobbled slightly in the unstable power. The tree trunk against which he leaned began to creak as the wood strained with the force of the power, and eventually snapped in half as the timber gave way and gravity took over, ploughing the tree into a pit of mud on the opposite side. Blood streamed from Chris's mouth as his scream continued, the Minerva crystal on his right hand radiant with a bright marine blue light. Bolts of psychic energy emitted from this sudden explosion of anger strayed loose, and with the woman and man the only living occupants of the area they found themselves to be the targets of this random and vicious attack...

[Shadar]

Shocked from the injured man’s tone, the half-elf was almost tempted to do just what was asked and leave him alone. As much a habit he made of helping people… sometimes… he wouldn’t force it on anyone. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he decided he’d first ask the rain soaked woman why he responded as such. She had to know him, given the fact that he probably couldn’t have gotten out here in such bad shape.

That few extra seconds was what kept him and the harpy from escaping when the psychic energy was unleashed. As the stones levitated and the tree creaked, he looked closely at the screaming man. With eyes that were beyond mortal, he gazed into the soul and found anger; unrestrained anger so fierce it overshadowed the storm pelting and deafening them. Also, he felt something powerful building and the destruction of the tree only proved it. “Take cover!” he shouted to this strange woman as he knelt down beside her. The harpy knelt in sync with him, her eyes wild with bewilderment. Tensing his arm that held the umbrella, the man thrust it into the ground in front of them at the same time that a metal film encased and widened it. The shield embedded itself just as the bolts of energy lunged for them. Flinching, the man expected to be electrocuted as the shield was attached to his arm. But, this didn’t seem to be electricity. It battered the shield instead, causing him to struggle to keep in a crouch with his weight against it. “What the hell is going on?!” he shouted practically in the ear of the woman as the psychic energy hummed about them and the thunder blasted. Without waiting for an answer from her, he tried to rationalize it in his own mind. This ‘explosion’ had accompanied a burst of anger in this man’s soul. “We need to calm him down,” he shouted again, though his words were almost cut short as he grunted and strained to keep from being pushed backwards into the rocks.

“Shadar,” the harpy said, sounding very determined now, to the man, “I know what to do. Stay here.” As he tried to gasp out an objection, she dodged around the shield and used her taloned feet to grip and push off from the rocks. Spreading her wings where arms should have been, she glided low over the ground in a line straight for the howling psychic bomb. She couldn’t stay aloft long, though, as the rain and the energy physically pounded on her back. Silently, as the storm made everything comparatively silent, she landed in the mud and stopped moving.

“Brigitte!” Shadar shouted as he lunged forward with the shield braced by his shoulder. It shook violently as he neared the source of the energy, so much so that he eventually couldn’t hold it there and was forced to let his arm be pushed back. Then, the full force of the bolts hit him square in the face and he was sent backwards to the woman’s side one more. With his head ringing and his vision foggy with the water that ran over his face, he could make out that Brigitte was moving again. Slowly and awkwardly, she crawled forward through the mud. The energy grazed her several times and threw her hair about as if it truly was on fire, but she kept moving. Eventually, through the storm of both mind and nature, she reached his side and threw herself at him with a sudden burst of strength. She hugged her wings around his back and over his blood-streaked face, holding him to her chest protectively. Then, with her mouth to his ear, she sang.

It was far from the rumored song of the harpies. Very gentle, very soothing. There were no words, as it was more of a hum. But, there was something there that changed in pitch and tone, something that seemed to have meaning. Strangely, it resonated over the storm without being painfully loud. It was just a sound that was there, practically in all their minds.

Shadar knew what this was. Not magic, not telepathy, just the feeling of caring released in an almost pure form that seemed to touch the soul. Silently, he watched and waited through rain streaked eyes.

[Ayithe Solete]

((Sorry ignor this post, it needs deleting.))

[Vorin]

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