The Lantern Lights

[Tshael]

{closed to that Numbers Guy, continued from The Good Olde Days (http://althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=118646#post118646)}

The wind had picked up as the day had gone marching from morning into afternoon. Now Tshael stood in a maelstrom of ash and dust, whipping around her with the smell of smoke and earth. It was the lingering perfume of the night the Pub had burned down, leaving little but melted fixtures, toppled stone and the lone firepit that had kept the atrium so cheerful so many nights. The warped glass of bottles that had exploded when their alcoholic contents met the heat crunched under her hooves as she walked the perimeter one last time.

No longer was she nude to the sun, but along with the steady grind of glass beneath her black hooves, the chink of her armor beat out a steady rhythm. She'd dressed in the obsidian Delyn while Joshua was away, carefully setting each piece in place. Shinguards and greaves were latched firmly, the half breastplate that covered the right side of her chest was secured even more tightly. After all, this was no average journey. This was the culmination of her work in the rainforest country of Dheathain, of her battle in the Citadel against gods and spectres alike.

More than anything, this was her redemption. When the armored red head looked to the horizon, she took a deep breath. When she let it out, Tshael the mother was gone. She embraced the valkyric Nashiara who had been a past life many wars ago, and set her jaw. A lone shadow was on it's way from down the road, and she knew the gait well enough already to know it was Joshua Cronen. She left the dusty husk of the Pub behind and wandered up the road to meet him.

With the ushering wind in her ears, it was almost like hearing the pendulum of destiny swinging just for her.

[Breaker]

Joshua Cronen strode down the hardpacked dirt road, dust caked in his clothing. The soldier had run as if guided by the wings of angels, and the result was that the dust swimming in the afternoon sunlight had become ingrained in his khaki shirt and pants. It covered his face and hair as well, fused into a beige paste when it met with the sweat of his brow. Josh wiped a wide palm across his forehead and flicked the droplets to the ground as he approached the dranak.

I still can't believe we just met.

Less than three hours prior, Tshael and Josh had introduced themselves over a meal of fresh bread and aged ale. Something about the woman had captivated him, and before he knew it he offered to help her find her son. Hidden far away in a deadly realm, the boy was, but if anyone could find the child, it would be the two who met on the wind whisked road. They looked like creatures of great might; he a stone golem clad in earth, and she the metal golem clanking away. At least, that was how they seemed to Josh. In reality, she looked like a noble warrior ready for battle, and he looked like a bum. Besides the grit that made him blend in with the road, he wore several days of growth on his chin, and carried an equally dusty pack on his back. The way the straps strained against his shoulders and the seams of the bag bulged demonstrated how his entire life fit into that bag. His eyes carried a vibrant life that made up for his dishevelled appearance, however.

The tall man's vitality was practically tangible. He moved like powerful rolling waves, graceful with a deadly undertow tantalizingly evident. A shark swam beneath the hazel surface of those sparkling eyes, a creature of the deep who had claimed the lives of many men. Josh wondered if he would have to face any of those angry spirits, in the place where he and Tshael intended to travel. Thoughts of flitting spirits filled his mind, but he pushed them to a dark corner to mull and wait.

Tshael still had the same mysterious allure to her, and yet her posture had changed, her spine and shoulders as straight and solid as the breastplate she wore.

He said, "You look ready to carve your way through a platoon of enemies, and bake a loaf of bread at the end." In truth, it was hard to believe this armored warrior had crouched so comfortably by an outdoor oven hours before.

Tearing his eyes from the glinting greaves and crimson hair, Josh cast his gaze towards the broken bones of what had once been the Silver Pub. Memory hung in the air over those forlorn ashes, a smell or a feeling or perhaps both. At present the smell of baked wheat and flour still resided there, perhaps the last reckoning of the Silver's dormant soul. With a nod, he indicated the burned out foundation.

He asked, "Have you said your goodbyes?" His guess was that she had. Something about the placement of her midnight hooves suggested she wanted to begin the journey.

[Tshael]

"My goodbyes were said long before the fire."

She said it with a smile, remember only a few of many times she'd stood behind the bar, reminiscing about adventures long over with and friends long lost. She'd always intended to go back to her past; returning to battlefields strong and confident, but those plans were always made with the phrase, 'When Tsyliss is a little older,' in mind. She'd spent countless hours wondering if he'd inherited her communion with the earth, or his father's icy nature. While she could easily remind herself that she'd never intended to stay with the Pub, it still made her angry that the separation wasn't on her terms.

They began to walk, shunning the road entirely to cut South through the expansive plains. As they hiked easily across the tallgrass fields, stepping around the holes of snake and gopher alike, Tshael explained the shortcut.

"We won't be going all the way to Concordia," she said. "When the first Dranak was born, the Creator knew our nature. We were made to follow legends, to fufill prophesies. There were, however," she said as they began to climb a small hill, littered with scree and nettles, "certain legends that Magus wanted to keep hidden. For our own good, I think. Maybe his. So, he made the keys to finding these people and things into riddles or traps. Mostly just petty disguises, mostly water."

As they crested the hill, burrs clinging to the hair around small scratches that Tshael had endured during the small climb, the clean wind pulling dust and dirt from Joshua in tiny puffs, they looked down upon a tiny valley hidden on the plains. The stone and rock debris continued down, thicker on this side of the hill. The stinging grasses couldn't push through, and it wasn't until the soft banks of a small pond that any grass could find a way to grow. The surface of the water was dark, marking a deep drop, and a few deer carcasses hinted at water that would be an exceptionally bad idea to drink. The lack of any prints around the pond was a sure sign that those who came after the unfortunate does had heeded the warning well.

"My kind cannot swim," she continued, beginning the descent towards the water, pebbles clattering down in a tumble before her. "But to get to the Ashlands, there requires baptism in death and fear. Most read the warnings of the legends and think murder, but Magus wrote his riddles well. I have drowned twice before, in the confines of immortality. Out here, beyond the Citadel, I would never enter this water."

She paused for a moment, regarding the sparkling surface, the way the wind guided the ripples of the top towards one shore. The Citadel sounded inviting right now, and she would return to it soon. First, however, there was a reckoning to be had.

"Let's go."

[Breaker]

Tshael was as stoic as he, and Josh liked that.

Any talking on a headlong hike would only lead to a mouthful of dust and bugs. Shortness of breath, too, in most peoople. But Josh could not foresee stamina as an issue. His own breath came as low and regular as it did when he slept, and the fact that the dranak travelled in platemail spoke fondly of her vitality.

And if she does get tired, I can carry her and her soldier suit as long as she needs.

Josh couldn't help but feel gifted; his own armor was in his bones, in his muscles, in his skin. He would never need to wear the encumbering metal, a fact that he often took for granted. The constant clank of the delyn greaves gave Josh a regular reckoning with a feeling of altruism often evoked by his charmed existence. He could not remember the last time a battle truly tested his mettle, but the journey with Tshael proved to be of a different nature.

Past the long cheerfully waving grass and the desperate hitchiking weeds, Breaker sensed something new. The feeling increased as the acquaintances approached the quarry pool, surfing down the sliding shale. The pool radiated power so tangible he felt as though he were walking on the moon. And yet the darkness of the water pulled him ever downwards, an ethereal beckoning. The human and dranak paused on the brink of the water.

Josh only nodded an affirmative to his partner's direction. His mouth was dry from the walk, and the sight of water, even so tainted with magic, had him parched as chalk.

The water was unsettlingly neutral, hardly a degreed variation from the sunstroked air. It almost didn't feel wet, as though daring him to taste it.

I'll not bend to your siren song, spirit.

He took the lead, and gripped Tshael's tricep when the bottom fell away beneath his feet. Despite the heavy boots he wore and the dranak's weighted frame, he tread water to support them both easily. Tshael seemed to have used the pool before, and he sensed signals to know what came next. He coughed sharply to clear his throat, and draw a little moisture to his lips, as his chin bobbed milimetres above livid liquid.

"I'm going to sink us fast," he said dryly, "Hold on to my arm."

They took a deep breath together, and he gripped one of her greaves to make sure they stayed that way. Josh winked at her, a soundless signal, and sent a mental message to his enchanted boots.

The Breaker boots responded with alchemic alacrity, and suddenly his feet weighed two hundred pounds more. Like a bullet test fired in an endless tank, the pair sank into oblivion.

[Tshael]

Fear had grasped her heart for a moment before plunging into the water's depths. Twice, she had drowned, once at Serenti and once in the Citadel. The memories of darkening water and the choking freeze that burned her lungs were enough for her to pause when Josh went tromping into the depth. She'd only just entered, preparing for her heavy body to pull her down when he commanded that she hold on to him. Strangely enough, clinging to his arm, she didn't immediately sink as she normally would have. There was enough time to take a deep breath, and then they were falling.

Bubbles and current sailed across her skin, tickling her as they moved. It seemed just as soon as they'd sunk down, they were rising. There had been no bottom, only a strange moment when it felt as if they had turned. The water was growing lighter, from a deep blackness to an eerie jade, with shimmering white waiting above them to greet their arrival.

The moment her head broke surface, she was gasping, her eyes blinking furiously as she used her arms to both try and keep herself afloat and clear the thick red curls from her face. A hand grabbed her arm, roughly, while she was still blinded with hair and water, and at first she thought it was Joshua. It was when claws dug ever so slightly into her forearm as she was jerked mercilessly to the shore that she knew she was wrong. When her body was in the shallows and her arms released, she moved slowly to clear her sight. She could tell by the heady smell, once so familiar in her youth, that they'd been greeted by Moontae.

As surely as she had guessed, when she could see clearly at last, they were surrounded by five warriors of the race whose name meant The Beauty. It was a name that was the most powerful truth in Concordia. Behind them was a diorama of gorgeous colors, deep green sprinkled with flowers in every color imaginable. The sunlight light spots of fern and wildflowers where it came peeking through holes in the canopy, and birds of all sizes, shapes and colors flitted from tree to tree, chirping excitedly to one another as they looked on. As intoxicating as that sight was, Tshael only had eyes for the lovely creatures before them.

Two of the five were male, twins. No great anomoly among the Moontae, they were crafted like a fantasy seen next to a mirror. Dark eyes, tanned muscled skin, and lips almost as generous as the tools they were born with, their smiles almost offset the weapons in their hands. Moontae weapons were purely ceremonial, built for beauty. While they were rarely used, there was beauty in a blade kept extremely sharp, hooks and claws that spiraled and serrated edges. All this deadly beauty was kept in hands that were clawed, and more often than not adorned with silver blades at the ends of the fingers to enhance damage. Even the three women, each one uniquely sensual, were armed as such. The Moontae were pacifists, but they took defense seriously.

The first of the women, a curvy blonde, clothed almost modestly in several chunky necklaces of shell and stone, stepped forward.

"Dranak." she stated, inclining her head. She turned towards the other two, her eyes narrowing. The years that Tshael had spent growing up with the succubae told her to keep quiet, and she hoped that Joshua would as well. Tshael knew this succubus, and as long as they showed timid respect, Tinatiel would let them go. The guard lieutenant was fair, at least Tshael hoped she still was. So many people had changed since the Dranak was sixteen and had gone running in terror from the people who had raised her.

It seemed as if the blonde had sent a mental signal to the other two women, who were gone as quickly as they had surprised Tshael. Now, with the twin Adonis' by her side, Tinatiel stepped forward and offered her arms to Tshael and Joshua, to help pull them from the pool. She turned her attention to Breaker, asking in the careful, quiet voice she had spoken with since Tshael was just a child.

"What path brings you so close to city of Beauty?"

[Breaker]

They travelled.

Josh could no more have explained the sensation than he could stop the sinking. His boots returned to their normal weight, but still the pair accelerated. Eyes shut tight to seal out the putrid water, all he could feel was a change. Something altered at the exact moment he lost all sense of direction; the living force of the magic sent them across a great distance faster than a bubble could pop.

The water became pleasantly cool and naturally buoyant, its latent charms withdrawing to some greater depth. Suddenly, the hand that gripped Tshael's armor was empty.

Josh spun in the water, striking out in the direction the dranak had disappeared. His eyes snapped open and gazed clearly through crystalline water. Gone were the bloated animal carcasses hanging dismally in murky depths, replaced by the churning nude bodies of five creatures. Josh surfaced like an orca, nostrils flaring as he sucked in air sweeter than incense, a halo of airborne droplets crowning him momentarily in the golden sunlight. Still submerged up to his waist, Josh froze as if the waters around him were locked in winter's heart.

Upon the bank a few feet away stood five people. They could not have been human; humanity lacked the perfection this quintet epitomized. All wore their nakedness like proud medallions, their eyes clear and limbs straight. The men’s physique looked carved from hardwood, dark skin seamlessly covering toned muscles. The women...

For a moment Josh lost contact with reality. The immaculate bank seemed some fallen deity's plateau, and upon it perched the three female moontae. Each looked so different, yet so synonymously perfect. Their lack of garb left little to his imagination, yet the succubae's haunting curves whispered of sultry secrets and mysteries unsolved.

Shadowy images played a pantomime in Joshua's mind, a satire on the present. The water would slow him down, but he figured he was fast enough to reach the bank before they knew what was going on. He could kill the men before the coveted threesome could scream. Then he could grab one or two of the succubae, perhaps even corral all three, and vanish into the unknown forest to slake his visceral desire in foreign terrain. Tshael's journey would have to wait...

Tshael.

The martial artist's mind dipped back into reality as quickly as it had left. The cool water he stood in helped considerably to keep him calm. He had only just noticed the delicate weapons the Moontae clutched. Fragile pieces perhaps, but they could still drain Tshael's veins if they found an imperfection in her armor. Josh kept his hands above the waterline, well away from the hatchet and bayonet that hung from his belt. He wanted to appear harmless; not an easy task considering that his empty hands were the deadliest weapons he had ever encountered. The way the water plastered his shirt down made his rippling granite muscles all too apparent.

Tshael seemed to know them, which was good, but it did not explain their sudden appearance or their slender weapons. Then the blonde addressed Josh.

She had a tempered sensuality in her eyes, her movements, her scent. Breaker's blood ran like ice water even in the heat of battle, but it ignited with volcanic fervor as the demon favoured him with her attention. As she asked the question a hand trailed up her inviting stomach, between rounded succulent breasts to tug at her weighted necklaces. They clicked in a satisfied manner, perhaps laughing at him as he dove into the succubus' well-cast net.

"If I told you that, I'd have to take you with me," he responded, unwilling to give up information so readily. How could he not flirt with her?

Maybe if I'm difficult enough she'll interrogate me, he fantasized distantly.

The birds sang sweetly, heralding their reaction to Josh's coquetry. He pushed wet bangs back off his forehead and idly wondered where the bees were.

[Tshael]

After a moment, Tinatiel smiled. Her quiet chuckle wasn't echoed by her muscled counterparts, though the heady smell of pheromones washing towards them told her that they had at least relaxed. She knew that holding her breath was useless. It would only call for a deeper breath when her stamina ran out. Instead, she ran a hand across her stomach, digging her nails in and scoring the skin. As Tshael's anxiety rose, so did the weeds that tangled the edges of the shore. They grew darker, their flowers wilting and shrinking away from the Moontae.

"We didn't come for temptation," Tshael hissed, ducking her head to try and appear meek and small before the woman. There was no cowardice in knowing she couldn't win against the three before them. They could drown her senses in the aphrodisiacs they produced until her mind was nothing but a needful mush. "We are heading west from here, away from the hidden city."

"There are so few things west from here. In fact, the temples of the Dranak lie in the caverns to the South." Tinatiel said, looking over her shoulder. Once her eyes fell upon one of the men, he smirked and made his way before the Dranak.

"She is right," he said as he moved his hand to cup Tshael's cheek. "All that is west is the Order of the Midday Sun." As he spoke, Tshael's gaze moved from his eyes down his arm, where on the underside of his forearm a small sigil of a burning sun had been scored into the skin. "Once a traitor, always a traitor?" he asked.

"No!" Tshael began to protest, but before she could finish her explanation his hand moved quickly, grasping her hair. His face moved in, his lips pressed against hers and Tshael's golden eyes rolled back in her head. Her knees trembled for a moment and buckled, her body sliding down to kneel in the shallow water. As she shook, ripples moved out, and the two men disappeared into the trees with laughter, leaving them with Tinatiel.

The succubus watched Joshua with an appraising eye, her power growing around her like a halo. Several hundred years as a guard and warrior against paladin and vampire alike had made her strong, and with her mere will, she forced Tshael's tremors to grow tenfold. Finally, her words were directed towards the man. As she turned, twisting her body to display her perfect curves to Joshua, her voice grew more throaty, aphrodisiacs rolling off her and towards him in an almost tangible cloud.

"The Dranak are a race that are dying for a reason. Come with me, human, and leave this pitiful thing behind. Delights wait for you in my bed beyond the veil." Her smile was liquid sex, her body turning to walk away in a dance that promised a world of pleasure if only he chose to follow.

[Breaker]

Josh did not realize his legs were moving until he had left the water, climbed dripping up the slippery bank, and crossed half the distance to Tinatiel with slow sodden footsteps. Walking in space, the buzz and hum of forest creatures fell away from his ears. A vacuum surrounded the succubus and the soldier, her charms seducing each of his senses. The smell of her tugged at him, strong and sweet enough to pass a fleeting taste over his tongue. He moistened his lips and continued, vision blurring all but her endless eyes into meaningless mush as she tossed a salacious glance over her shoulder. She stepped coyly away, but his stride lengthened and brought them together, his front pressed against her back, rough hands caressing up the smooth skin of her stomach.

"Come with me, human," she repeated in that siren's voice, delicate hands sheathing her dagger and roving backwards to clutch at and massage his thigh. A short release of air slipped from his lips, a raw primal sound of fantasies come true. His calloused hands clutched at her breasts, drifting ever upwards. She laughed like rainfall on a bright summer night and tried to lead him, but could sooner have dragged a stone statue.

"Come with me," a tone of agitation entered her voice, quickly corrected by more simpering smiles. "I know a meadow where bluebells grow..."

His hands did not stop, for they were no longer a part of him. They couldn't be. All he wanted was to follow the goddess of desire and surrender to her every whim. But his hands... they did what they knew best, what they had trained for above all else. Right arm hooked deep across her throat, wrist landing on left bicep. Free hand levered backwards with hydraulic force, cranked the chokehold.

Wild desire thrashed his body, convulsions flailing his spine like storm tossed seas. Her allure doubled, then tripled, increased tenfold. Unable to think, he kissed, then sucked, then bit the side of her neck, a flurry of uninhibited passion. But his hands kept at their lethal work, biceps bulging, compressing the arteries that pumped precious blood into her brain. Tinatiel could not cry out, but she beat at him with fists and elbows, snatched her dagger from its sheathe and stabbed. The blade snapped against his unyielding skin.

Seconds later the shattered hilt dropped from nerveless fingers. The seductive magic ebbed away like a failing tide.

Josh released the blonde demon. Her limp form crumpled unconsciously atop her broken weapon. He staggered once, missed a step, and sat down hard with his back against a wide tree. The trunk shuddered under the impact of his weight, but when the timber stopped shaking, he could not. He quivered like a hypothermic child, teeth chattering, mind lost hopelessly in the imaginings of what could have been.