Children Of the Shattered Moon (Solo)

[orphans]

A single finger played over a flattened jewel piece set into the table in the center of a darkened room. The light of a single candle that drifted by the lone figure reflected off the thousands, perhaps millions, of crystals lining the walls off the room. All about, hushed whispers could be heard and as the figure turned its gaze upwards toward the infinite darkness, it gave a chuckle. Glints of more crystals could be seen above, rising and rising endlessly.

The candle eventually illuminated a frown on the figure’s lips. To no one in particular, it mumbled out, “Where did things go wrong, Azza?”

As the finger left the jewel, it gave off a soft crimson glow and an image of two children with budding horns sitting side by side on a bench between a stone archway appeared above. Behind them, a blizzard raged, but despite that they wore little more than summer clothing.

“Sera, you think we’ll be in the same station together?” The white haired girl asked with an air of uncertainty.

The boy shrugged and scratched under his right ear. “I don’t think so… I’m not that good with a sword. I’m better with Brother Ilson’s lessons…”


“Forward, 225 years, winter festival,” the figure said as he snuffed out the candle, then pocketed it deep within his robes. The image above rippled, then blurred for a few moments, before finally coming into focus once more. This time, it showed the girl, now a young woman with her white hair braided into intricate knots. She wore a set of armored plates, chainmail, and crystals, all blended together. She kept a slightly amused look as she glanced over to the young man walking beside her. The young man’s black hair was barely tamed as he brushed a hand through it before using the same hand to fix the pair of glasses on the ridge of his nose. He was clothed in heavy robes and carried a large tome that was thicker than his own waist.

“Bed time reading?”

The man scoffed and rolled his brown eyes. “Ha, very funny Azza.”

“Is Ilson asking you to take over his class today again, Sera?” There was a hint of disappointment in her voice as a frown appeared.

“I wish. Matriarch asked me if I could run through the records of our own hatching.”

“Matriarch?” At once, Azza’s expression became that of surprise as she reached for the book.

“Ah ah ah! You know I can’t let you see what’s inside without permission from her.” Holding the book away with one outstretched hand, he used his other to stave off his friend.

“Oh come on, you know I could just wrestle it away.”

“And you know full well I could repulse you down the hall.”

Azza opened her mouth to respond when a third voice spoke up. “I hope there is nothing wrong going on here.” A serious looking man stood before the two with a heavily creased face and wore the same armaments as Azza, indicating the same station.

Both Sera and Azza looked up and at once both responded with a, “No, Brother Tenhali.” The older man stared at both of them before walking on without saying anything else.

After the man had left, Azza rolled her eyes and used a hand to mimic his mouth. “I’m Tenhali, the high and mighty who spends all my time cuddling my pointy stick.” Sera snickered as well as the figure watching the scene.


Giving a cough to clear his throat, the figure spoke clearly, though with some hesitance this time. “Forward, 100 years, end of Dodorian Wars.” Once more, the projected picture changed and when it froze again, the figure turned its head away momentarily in disgust before turning back. It depicted a field of trampled grass with thousands of dead or dying soldiers and animals strewn about. The roar of tens of thousands of other soldiers signaled that the fight was far from over.

In the center of the chaos, a tall figure stood clad in full plate imbued with the crest of the black lion. The very sight of his majestic white wings, heavy silver lance, large kite shield, and strong chiseled face was enough to inspire the men who fought on the same side. They, the Dodorians, had won victory after victory with their champion spearheading their efforts against their foes.

Without a word, the man pointed his lance forward, sending the men behind him to charge an exposed formation. They had the blessings of a celestial being, did they not? What could they possibly have to fear?

[orphans]

An ear splitting screech of unnatural origins sounded out from the supposed breach. Several of the Dodorians were flung up into the air while others were knocked about like rag dolls. The enemy army that opposed the angelic figure moved quickly and enveloped the Dodorians that remained standing.

“Sir!” A soldier ran up and saluted the angel quickly. “Silverwind forces are on the move to our east, lead by Marcus himself!” Expecting worry, the soldier was surprised by a sudden smile from the angel as his light blue eyes surveyed the field.

“I should have expected this from the Silverwind. They would not have given up so easily after all.” Hoisting his lance up off the ground he nodded to the soldier to thank him for the information.

But the soldier didn’t leave. Biting his lower lips with a grimace, he continued hesitantly, “The Silverwind Demon has been spotted as well.”

The smile faded from the angel’s lips as he narrowed his eyes to scan the field before him. “That would explain the wild screech. Go then. Protect our flanks, I’ll deal with this.”

This time, the soldier did salute the angel once more, and hurried off, shouting orders for a contingent to form up defenses. The angel allowed the smile to return to his lips once more as he bellowed out for an all out charge.

Without question, the main Dodorian force charged with their champion into the thick of combat. Once again, the unnatural cry came and as the soldiers in front of the angel fell like wheat to a scythe, he saw the demon before him. The crimson eyes of the demon burned with an inner rage while her untamed white hair, stained with blood, billowed about behind her. Her armor seemed hardly worthy of combat, compared to that of the angel, as it was merely leather with random plates of steel strapped together.

The angel’s eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of the massive blade the demon was wielding, being nearly twice her size, yet she swung it as if it were a toy. He raised his shield just in time to feel the full impact of the sword through the unfortunate head of a nearby solder, now decorating his once shining shield as bone fragments. Even then, he continued to be pushed back by the momentum of the massive blade, the sound of grinding metal ringing in his ears, until he suddenly took to the sky with a beat of his mighty wings. Shouting above the noise in their own language, the angel yelled out, “Your weapons just seem to get bigger and bigger, Azza dae Farinma!”

Turning her eyes skyward, a crazed grin found its way to Azza’s lips as she kicked off the ground. Leaping towards her opponent with her sword held behind her, ready for another swing, she screamed out, “And you’re always compensating for something, Tenhali dae Farinma!”

Tenhali’s eyes narrowed in hatred while Azza let out an insane laugh as she swung hard with the giant sword once more. This time, being prepared, Tenhali merely parried the blow with his lance, and with a hard push and added power word, sent Azza barreling back towards the ground. “You just don’t learn do you, child?” But as he looked closer, he realized that only the massive sword was falling to the ground below.

“Oh, but I have, you old washed up bastard!” Azza’s voice had come from behind him. In the same instant, a sharp, blinding pain blasted through Tenhali’s skull as one of his wings was severed from his back, causing him to drop his lance.

“Doppelganger illusions!?” Still maintaining his flight through his own disguised horns, Tenhali had turned himself to face Azza, who was holding a long sword.

“Tch… you always lose focus when I taunt you, old man.” Gripping the blade in both hands, Azza charged through the air once more, tip pointed at Tenhali’s heart.

With the blinding pain, the pretend angel could do little more than raise his shield, only to feel it shatter as the sword punched through and into him. Knowing he had lost, he yelled out, “Enough! You have won this one.”

But for Azza, she could only feel a seething hatred and rage. It was unexplainable and it was as if something else was acting through her. “It is not enough, Tenhali.” Withdrawing the sword, quickly, she poised to strike again. “This is enough.” With her final word, she cleaved her brethren’s head from his body and watched his body fall to the ground bellow. At the same time, pain worse than having her own wings severed course through her entire body. The grip on her sword loosed, the Mark of Heresy burned between her shoulders, and then finally, her horns shattered to dust. Silently, she fell towards the ground and before she even reached the dirt, her vision faded.

“Stop. End collection.” The figure said in a weary voice. No matter how many times he saw that scene, the result was always the same; his stomach churned and he felt sick. Letting out a tired sigh, he mumbled to himself, “I just don’t understand…”

[orphans]

A sudden knock at the door jostled the figure from his thoughts. As he made his way towards the door, he cleared his throat, and then opened the heavy wooden door. Sunshine flooded into the man’s brown eyes, making him squint through his glasses at the person in front of him.

She was about a head shorter than he was and had a petite figure. Her horns were a little larger than his though, surrounded by her obscenely long brown hair that nearly touched the ground. The normally curious pair of brown eyes however, were narrowed in an aggravated manner while her arms were crossed before her. “I thought I would find you here, Brother Seratem.”

Clearing his throat once more in nervousness, he brushed a hand through his black hair in a vain attempt to flatten it. “M-matriarch, I was just trying to find clues-” but he stopped as he saw the woman before him quivering in stifled laughter. She struggled to keep her frown from turning into a grin. Being able to only hold out a few seconds, she burst out giggling.

“The one week that the blizzard stops and you have holed yourself up in that dark room.” It took a moment for the Matriarch to shake off the remainder of her giggles. When she did, she saw that Seratem looked irritated and confused.

“Matriarch, with all due resp-”

“Besal,” the woman said quickly while cutting him off. “Call me Besal, or Sister Besal.”

“Sister Besal,” Seratem began, but the woman held her hand up and closed her eyes.

“I know you want answers, Brother Seratem. But not eating for nearly a full decade has soured your mood.”

Seratem opened his mouth to retort what she said, but then stopped and thought. Had he really been going through Azza’s records for nearly a decade? Time didn’t matter to him, but what did was the fact that he had gotten nowhere. “Food isn’t a necessity for us…” was the only feeble defense he could come up with.

Besal nodded her head slowly with a smile. “Yes, but again, you are rather crabby when you have not eaten.”

“Crabby?” he asked as confusion set it once more.

Besal waved the question away with a hand and said quickly, “Something the Landbound say to mean annoyed.”

Seratem fell silent at the mention of Landbound. Having watched their senselessness through the memories of another for ten decades, it was hard to ignore how ridiculous they seemed. With a sigh, he walked towards the open archways of the corridor. There was no glass to prevent one from falling through and plummeting down the mountainside or from keeping the snow out. Nevertheless, there was no snow in the hallways and no one had ever fallen out by accident.

Besal seemed to read his thoughts through his silence and walked up beside him to stare out through the calm. Below them was a pavilion where the children were taught their lessons, but at the moment stood empty.

“Why do we have to watch over such senseless creatures, Sister Besal?” Without meaning to, Seratem found himself asking the same question most heretics before him had asked.

With a chuckle, Besal only smiled and seemed a little hurt. “They are not all senseless, Brother Seratem. They only seem that way because we watch them as a group from afar.”

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean…”

“It’s quite alright. I thought like you once.” Grinning, she motioned her head for him to follow. “That was why I was once a scout for the order.”

“You?” Seratem said in disbelief. “A scout?”

The bell-like laughter of Besal cascaded down the steps as the two made their way to a large open hall. It was rather plain to the untrained eye, but the masonry work and carved pillars boasted work of the highest degree. “Of course.”

Seratem seemed unconvinced.

“What? You thought all the Matriarchs and Patriarchs never left the monastery?”

“No no, of course not. I just never expected… well… you to have had a need to leave this plane.”

The woman shrugged her shoulders uncaringly and continued out into a flower garden. Despite a thick blanket of snow on the ground, flowers of all sorts grew in abundance. “Most of us older generations have secrets most younglings cannot imagine.”

Seratem was about to say that he wasn’t young when he caught his tongue. The Matriarch was nearly thirty times his age, yet she didn’t look a day older than twenty-four year old.

To emphasize her point, she pointed up to a tower. “Especially that old grump in there.”

Shocked at the way she was speaking, Seratem couldn’t help but look to the tower as well. “You mean Brother Orankem?” He was easily the eldest member of the order and it was anyone’s guess what his exact age was.

Besal nodded her head and whispered, as if to keep it a secret. “He likes candy.”

Obviously not the secret he was expecting, or even one so trivial, Seratem pulled away looking rather perplexed as he began, “Matriarch-”

“Besal.”

“Sister Besal, that’s not really what I’d consider a secret.”

“Oh?” She seemed mystified by his expectancy and notion of what a secret was. “I suppose you are more interested in what he does for hobbies?”

Clearing his throat once more, he shook his head quickly. “I wouldn’t dream of invading his personal likes.”

But Besal didn’t seem to hear his question as she gazed off in thought. Picking a small flower, she presented it to Seratem.

“What is this for?” He took hold of it carefully by the stem. The flower had four large petals while the stigma was a large dull orb.

“You are interested in secrets, are you not?” Seratem nodded his head uncertainly. “Then bring this starlight to Orankem tonight and ask to see Avoquin.”

“You don’t mean-”

“If she decides to tell you something, then she will decide to tell you something.”

Seratem watched as Besal walked out of the flower garden and back into the hallway. Making up his mind, he mumbled a soft enchant on the flower, stashed it inside his robes, then followed after her.

“You should come down to the Landbound village at least once this week,” Besal offered as he caught up. “And eat something.”

Looking around the hall, Seratem realized for the first time that it was strangely empty. “Is that where everyone’s gone to?”

Besal smiled at his realization. “Mostly everyone.”

[orphans]

By the time Besal left Seratem for the Landbound village at the base of the mountain, a small group of Dovicarus returned with small baskets laden with various grains, fruits, and dairy goods. The group chattered amongst themselves excitedly as they passed Seratem on their way to who knows where, most likely to enjoy the food they brought back.

It brought a smile to the man’s lips as he watched the younger generation pass by him. They seemed as normal as any other Dovicarus could be. The very same thought made him sigh and shake his head. Wasn’t everyone from his hatching as normal as could be?

He retired himself to a bench nearby and watched as others trickled back in pairs or small groups. All generations and stations were among the ones that returned, each bringing different things or wearing different things. Seratem couldn’t help but chuckle as a returning grave keeper fumbled with tying another crystal trinket to her hair. Finally, she stopped and asked one of the monastery guards to help her.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to when he and Azza would have journeyed to the village as well. She would always be pining over newly forged weapons and constantly badgering the local smiths while he was off inspecting new quills and stylized paper weights. Luckily, the smiths were happy to share the secrets of the forge with her and the local merchants never fussed when he ended up not wanting anything.

That had always been a curious point for him as well. The Landbound village had never asked for anything in return from the Dovicarus. All the while, they brought back trinkets, charms, food, paper, quills and various other things. The Landbound he normally observed would have wanted something in return.

Opening his eyes, he saw the grave keeper thanking the guard for helping her. He watched with a smile as the guard stood their awkwardly, not used to being thanked by those who were generations older than him.

“Seeerrrraaa!!” A voice called out suddenly. Hearing the voice from down the hallway made Seratem cringe as he instantly recognized it. With nowhere to run, he turned with a half hearted smile at the approaching man.

His bright red hair was cut into a tacky bowl cut while his bright blue eyes sparkled at Seratem. As it was the Winter Festival, the armor he wore was the same ceremonial armaments as Azza and Tenhali, but it didn’t seem to suit him that well. The man was tall and extremely lanky. If anything, he seemed more like an armored noodle. “Brother Nathan.”

“Why the glum look?” Nathan asked with a raised eye brow. It was his attempt at looking serious, yet the eye brow would rise much higher than normal and it looked more comical.

“You have a knack at asking what you already know, Brother Nathan.” Even though Seratem was trying his hardest from raising his voice, he knew eventually that Nathan would strike a raw nerve.

Nathan on the other hand was clueless of Seratem and proceeded as if he heard nothing. “You haven’t been to the village in years! We should go down together. That’ll cheer you up!”

The proposal made Seratem twist inside while the thought of spending time exploring the village with Nathan made his temples throb. Raising a hand to massage his temples, he answered right away, “No thank you.”

Nathan’s face soured as he tilted his head back. “You still holding that accident against me from fifteen years ago?”

“What?” Seratem asked and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“The ink spill?”

The incident had slipped Seratem’s mind completely. It was difficult to recall something so trivial after spending a decade reviewing the life of a friend without taking a single break. “No Nathan.”

“Well then, what’s holding you back? We haven’t talked at all in nearly fifteen years, and the last time we did, you covered my face in black ink.” Seratem snickered. “Ha, see? What do you say?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Nathan had a point. They were from the same hatching and he was in the same station as Azza. He might be able to shed light on some of his questions, but more importantly, Seratem realized that he did feel lonely. Besides, Nathan could have changed in the time he hadn’t spoken to him. With a resigned sigh, Seratem nodded his head. “Very well.”

[orphans]

The two were silent as they glided down from the monastery towards the Landbound village. It wasn’t because Nathan had nothing to say, but the roar of wind over their ears made it nearly impossible to hear anything.

Seratem enjoyed the descent as he had nearly forgotten the feel of wind over his wings and the scent of the chilled mountain air. With the fresh air, he could feel his mind being renewed with vigor again and as they neared the village, the smell of cooking spices and herbs made him feel hungry.

It was surprising to him that the land in and surrounding the village was free of the frost and snow that blanketed everywhere else. The village and monastery were both located in Sol’el Arc, the so called, “roof of the world.” As they landed, Seratem could feel the frosty air nipping at him, but despite that, the grass grew strong as did the fields of grain. There was something else that he noticed this time, something that he had never noticed while he had the company of Azza: The imprint of his kind upon the land.

“Oh yes! I smell baked potatoes with fresh butter.” Nathan licked his lips and then turned to see Seratem distracted in his own thoughts. Nudging his companion in the side, Seratem snapped out of it and turned to his brethren with a frown.

“Yes yes, baked potatoes. Don’t see why you’re so excited.”

Nathan gaped in horror, as if what Seratem said was equal to that of heretics. “They’re only the single best thing in this world! In terms of taste anyways. Nothing beats the simplicity of it.”

He had stopped eating the year that Azza passed on and when he was assigned to track his dear friend, he ceased his interactions with others of the order until recently. The concept of food seemed foreign altogether now as Seratem and Nathan began walking.

Around them, other Dovicarus walked in groups of at least two, teasing each other or trying different things. There were performances and competitions being held as well, mostly between the Landbound while the Dovicarus observed in curiosity and amazement.

“If it isn’t Brother Seratem!” An elderly man stood up from a chair outside a small bookstore. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

It took a moment for Seratem to recognize the old man with graying hair. “Nikolai?” The man was dressed in a formal black jacket buttoned up, starch white shirt underneath, finished off with black dress pants and a pair of comfortable looking brown leather shoes.

“So you do remember me! I certainly haven’t forgotten you, Brother Seratem.” Smiling, he extended his hand for Seratem to shake, but then withdrew it, remembering that his kind didn’t know what shaking hands meant.”

“I’m glad to see you are still in good health.”

Nikolai chuckled and picked up a small package from under the chair. “I’d better be. I promised to have the quills made and delivered to you myself, but then you just disappeared!” He gave a bright smile with all his teeth accounted for. “I’ve never broken a promise and I don’t intend to start yet.”

Seratem took the package into his arms as he looked to Nikolai with a smile of his own. It seems like he had forgotten much more than just the simple taste of food, the smell of fresh air, and the feel of wind on his wings. The gift made him feel guilty for abandoning the world to chase after a friend through memories. “Thank you, Nikolai.”

“No Brother Seratem. It was my pleasure. It’s the least I could do for all that the order has done for us in the village.” Nikolai saw the confusion in Seratem’s eyes and only chuckled. “Have you never been curious as to why the land is always green despite us being in the snow blasted north?”

A slow smile began to stretch itself across Seratem’s face. “Not until now, but I think I’m starting to understand why.”

Nikolai chuckled again. “You’ve always been quick of mind. The bountiful harvest year round is because of the help sent here. I believe Sister Besal and Sister Sakuya are responsible for our largest harvest yet.”

“Sister Besal?” It couldn’t have been the same Besal as the Matriarch could it? Or was this what she meant by secrets? Seratem frowned to himself at that thought. Being fond of fruit and vegetables didn’t seem to constitute what he considered secrets.

“Speaking of bountiful harvest.” Nikolai pointed down the road towards an approaching figure. Narrowing his eyes, Seratem saw that it was the approaching figure of Nathan with his ridiculous bowl haircut. In his hands, he carried a basket of steaming potatoes and small jar of a light yellow paste. Butter, most likely.

Seratem didn’t even realize that Nathan had left until now. It would explain why he could have had such a long conversation with Nikolai though without being interrupted. “Don’t you think you took a little too much?”

The accusation made Nathan frown as he shrugged in a careless fashion. “I just wanted one. The nice lady gave me a basket full and said that she remembered me liking the baked potatoes from last year.”

Nikolai just gave another one of his chuckles and Seratem couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful scenery. “Will you join us, Nikolai?”

“I’ve been full to the brim ever since the festival started two days ago!” Sitting back into the chair with a grunt, he continued with a smile. “You gentlemen enjoy yourselves.”

[orphans]

The two had wandered off towards the edge of the grassland where it was much quieter than the village. A few of their kind were wandering about with the company of a Landbound, who was more than happy to explain their ways to the ever curious Dovicarus.

Seratem and Nathan eventually stopped to eat at a small gazebo that rested partial on where the grass ended and the snow began. Intricate writing of wards and barriers drifted lazily about the building. Had it been night, the small structure would have been bathed in their multicolored lights.

Nathan rubbed his hands together in long waited anticipation and picked up a still piping hot potato. “I’ve been waiting for these all year!” Unscrewing the lid off the top of the bottle, he produced a small butter knife from the basket. After applying a healthy portion of the yellow cream, he took a large bite and savored it.

“So I see.” Seratem couldn’t help the grin on his face as he watched his companion. The day had been full of surprises so far, and to add to the pile, Seratem realized that Nathan wasn’t so bad. He was a bit crude, but as was Azza. In fact, all of the younger warriors and guard caste seemed to be so.

With one potato scarfed down, Nathan reached for another before he noticed Seratem watching him. “Here! Don’t make me eat alone.” He tossed one deftly to Seratem, who fumbled with the hot vegetable a bit, before taking another for himself. Applying another ample portion of butter to the top of his potato, Nathan then offered the knife to Seratem. “Go on!”

Watching his companion consuming the potatoes with zeal, Seratem gave a sigh and shrug before taking the knife. Imitating Nathan seemed to be a good start, but he took considerably less of the golden cream. Nothing could have prepared Seratem for the first bite.

Ten years with no food.

Ten years with no memory of what food even tasted like.

Ten years… and it was one glorious way to be reintroduced.

Nathan laughed at the expression on Seratem’s astonished face. “You’ve got to help me finish the rest of it now!”

Seratem finished chewing and grinned back. “Never thought I’d say this to you, but with pleasure.”


It wasn’t long until the two were filled to satisfaction. The basket still contained a couple of potatoes while the jar stood completely empty. Nathan belched and released a groan of content. Seratem wrinkled his nose at the gesture, but snickered nonetheless.

A few birds flew by in the cloudless sky towards the monastery. As the two followed the birds with their heads, Nathan asked suddenly, “Being simple is the best don’t you agree?” When his brethren didn’t respond immediately Nathan turned his eyes down to look at Seratem. “What’s the matter?”

“Just thinking.” Turning his gaze from the table towards the sky once more, searching for nothing in particular, Seratem spoke with a longing in his voice. “Azza used to say that a lot. Being simple, I mean.” The two sat in silence for the moment, listening to the soft breeze rushing through the fields of wheat and barley.

“I know.”

More silence followed as both of them stared off into the distance towards the village. Despite his original feelings for Nathan, Seratem found him becoming more comfortable around the warrior. Enough to ask, “How well did you know Azza?”

A chuckle. “I knew her pretty well. Spirit’s gate, we hated each other.” Yet, as Nathan said those words, the smile faded from his lips. “But, I realized after… that I kinda miss her, you know?” Nathan straightened his back with a few pops before standing up slowly to pace around.

“Did you two spar a lot?”

“Yeah, usually kicked my ass, literally.” Laughing suddenly, he pointed to his head. “It’s the reason why I even have this ridiculous look.”

“Azza’s the reason why you have that?”

Still shaking from his mirth, Nathan managed to nod his head vigorously. “We made a bet. I obviously lost.” Stopping after a couple of minutes, Nathan looked to Seratem with a curious eye. “How’d you know her?”

“She always sat behind me in Brother Ilson’s lessons.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Nathan frowned; unconvinced by the answer he was given. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve been obsessed over her for the past decade.”

“You knew?”

Nathan blew a breath through his lips. “Almost everyone in our hatching knows. It’s a bit hard not to notice when the prodigy in your same hatching goes missing, you know?” Seratem remained silent as he thought. Seeing his reaction, Nathan sat down and heaved a sigh. “You two were really attached weren’t you?”

Seratem nodded. “Just wish I knew what happened.”

“Did you ever ask her to soul bond?”

“…no.”

[orphans]

The two newly formed friends parted ways once they reached the village again. Nathan mentioned something to the effect of wanting more potatoes to bring back and Seratem remembered that he was still to meet someone.

“Hey.” As Seratem was about to leave, Nathan called out to him suddenly. “Why don’t you ask to be a scout and visit her?”

“… that is something to consider.” Yet as Seratem said those words, he knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t have the courage for that sort of thing, but beyond that, he was afraid of seeing his friend as a child. What would he say to her? What could he say to her?

Nathan seemed to pick up on Seratem’s reluctance, but said nothing. Instead, he shrugged and just grinned at him. “You’ll figure out something.”


The return trip gave Seratem enough time to mull things over. Becoming a scout of the order would have been the easiest way to get in touch with his friend again, but it would serve little purpose and at best, she might not run away from a strange man. Azza was, for all intents and purposes now, Landbound. She would have no memory of whom or what she was. No cleansing one did and he wouldn’t expect any different from Azza.

When Seratem landed at the entrance, he bid the few guards there greetings and they did the same. By habit, Seratem walked through the great hall, up a flight of stairs, and proceeded down an open corridor before stopping before a wooden door. His hand reached out, but as he grasped the brass handle, he stopped. A heavy sigh drifted out and Seratem let go.

Walking to the edge of the open corridor, he gazed out over the mountains and watched the sun sinking lower and lower. Below, he could see pavilion in the fading light, only to be illuminated by the starlights. Their once dull orbs glowed with an inner luminescence, bathing the area in a pale blue light. In fact, all around monastery grounds, starlights by the thousands returned to life in the waning sunlight.

“Since… when did the monastery look like this?” he wondered out loud to himself.

“Since Sister Sakuya.”

The sudden voice behind Seratem nearly made him leap out the opening of the corridor. Whirling around quickly, he let out a relieved sigh. “Matria-”

“Besal.”

“Sister Besal, I thought you were still at the village.”

The woman walked up beside him and said nothing as she looked out over the grounds of the monastery. Seratem joined her, unsure of what else to do besides stare out over the expanse with her.

“Sister Sakuya planted those all over when her father died.”

Those were words that made Seratem turn to Besal in confusion. “Her father?”

Instead of answering him right away she just laughed her bell-like laugh. It was another few moments until Besal turned her head to look at Seratem and winked. “Secrets. You could certainly ask Sakuya about them sometimes.”

Secrets. Again with secrets. Seratem rolled the thoughts about in his head a bit before realizing that he too had a few of his own. He had never considered them secrets though, but the more he thought about them, perhaps they were. “Maybe I will when I see her then.”

Besal nodded her head in a sagely fashion before pointing to a pocket of Seratem’s robes. He looked down and saw a faint bluish light shining through, despite the dense fabric. “Orankem is waiting.”

[orphans]

The tower, in which Orankem had taken up residence more than a millennia ago, was said to have been made by his own work. The winding staircase leading up for what seemed like eternity, was made from almost anything imaginable. From branches of still living trees, to clocks, to limestone, to even the skull of some ancient beast. Yet, even with all the strange and novel things of the winding staircase, Seratem could only think of the Coil’s reason as to why there was so many!

The Never Ending Coil itself was a strange concept for Seratem to grasp. Even he, one part of the Order of Farinma, didn’t exactly know what The Never Ending Coil was. It had been explained a long while ago in Ilson’s class that The Never Ending Coil was the being they serve. Sighing from his lack of understanding, Seratem continued plodding up the steps one at a time.

Eventually, a door came into view and the wall beside the door was actually missing. He at once came to the realization that he could have simply flown up to the tower instead of the long trek. That caused the man to slap his own face with a palm. “And they call me a prodigy…”

The first knock on the door produced no results. A second knock and the sound of something moving could be heard from the other side along with voices. Sure that whoever was there would open the door, Seratem waited. He waited until he realized that they weren’t going to open the door so he knocked a third time in irritation. The same voices could still be heard as they got closer to the door.

It creaked opened slowly and what met his eyes was not what he expected. The person before him, female, was about his height, with large wings folded against her back. Her eyes were of a maroon color and reminded him of Azza, but her hair was a short dirty blond. She possessed an alarmingly pale complexion yet she had no visible veins. All of this didn’t surprise Seratem as much as her lack of clothing.

The woman just stared back at him and in a near monotone, asked with a single word, “Purpose?”

Noting that the woman lacked a pair of horns, he half wondered what her purpose here was but held his tongue. He decided to humor her with a single worded question as well, “Avoquin?”

“Yes?” Her eyes didn’t exactly show any interest or lack thereof. In fact, they just didn’t show much of anything. Beyond providing her sight, they seemed to do little else. They seemed hollow.

Unsure of how to actually proceed, he racked his brain for clues as he followed the eyes of Avoquin down to the blue glow of the pocket of his robe. Reaching in, he dug out the bright blue starlight and watched as the woman’s eyes followed it. “Would you like the flower?”

“Yes.”

He held it out carefully and waited for the woman to take hold of it. Instead, she folded her hands behind herself and leaned forward slowly as if to inspect the flower closely with her eyes. Without warning, her mouth opened and enveloped the blue orb. Alarmed, Seratem let go and stepped back.

Avoquin paid him no attention and proceeded on swallowing the starlight, stem and all. Afterwards she blinked her right eye once. Then again and as Seratem looked on, the eye began to change colors to a soft pastel purple. “Besal sent you?”

“Yes, I was sent by Sister Besal.” Even for Seratem, this was becoming a little strange. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but certainly not for the woman to eat the flower.

“Please follow.”

The room of the tower itself was deceptively small from the outside. As Seratem follow behind Avoquin, he studied the area about him in a muted interest. There were so many strange things accumulated about that most seemed to be of another world. Oblong objects with reflective surfaces, long thin barrels mounted on top of great steel boxes, and books in various tongues strewn about the room. Some looked familiar, some he knew, but others were completely foreign.

The two eventually came into a circular room that was much cleaner than the rest of the place. No random objects placed about, no odd bits of machinery, nothing. It was just a large empty, circular, domed room, save for the man that stood in the center while white crystal lights lined the walls. “Brother Seratem, I was wondering when I would meet you.”

The man’s brown hair was trimmed short while his dark blue eyes hid behind a pair of thin rimmed glasses. The man, who Seratem could only assume was Orankem, stood equal with him and, if anything, looked very much like one who had just received his station. The robes he wore were nearly the same as Seratem’s own save for one silver thread stitched down the left. “I am honored to be expected by you Elder Orankem.”

At that, the man began laughing. The confusion was obvious on Seratem’s face as he stilled himself long enough to explain, “Your greeting is far too well mannered. I have not heard a soul talk as such in a long time.” He drifted his gaze over to Avoquin, who stood behind Seratem with her usual empty stare, and motioned to the girl. “Then again, I’ve only had her as company for the last couple centuries.”

“Should I bring tea?”

“Oh yes please, Avoquin.” Orankem then waved for Seratem to come closer. With a wave of his other hand, a set of two comfortable chairs, a stool, and a small table appeared. “Please, sit down. Besal told me you have things to ask me and Avoquin.”

[orphans]

Avoquin returned eventually with a small cart, a bulky pot of tea, three saucers and three cups. The strong smell of jasmine rose with the steam as the woman poured the liquid carefully and slowly into each cup. With practiced precision, she served Orankem first, Seratem second and then lastly herself before taking a seat on the stool.

Both of the men accepted their tea with a polite thank you, but while Orankem drank deeply, Seratem sipped slowly as he thought about what to ask. During the time that it took Avoquin to get the tea, Seratem wasn’t able to think of what he wanted to ask now that he was actually present. In fact, the only reason why he was here was because Besal told him that he should see them and that perhaps Avoquin might tell him something. Yet, as Seratem looked to the woman, who sat there unblinking with her tea, he doubted that she had anything to really say to him. Their conversation so far had been little more than three or four words.

Orankem wasn’t being particularly helpful either as he stayed quiet, waiting patiently for the young man to ask the questions he didn’t know he had. As they waited in the awkward silence, Orankem finished his tea and asked for another cup which Avoquin poured without hesitance. She then waited for Seratem to set down his cup so that she could top it off before sitting back down.

After five more cups of tea for Orankem, two more for Seratem and Avoquin still on her first, the young man finally brought up his courage to ask a question. Courage alone was not enough, for when Seratem opened his mouth he stopped and closed it in realization that he was at a loss. Finally, he gave up and posed to Orankem, “Do you know why Besal sent me here?”

The elder chuckled softly. Slowly, it turned more and more into an uncontrollable laughter as he shook his head at Seratem. Avoquin looked on with her unblinking eyes and Seratem just stared, unsure if the man was completely sane. Shaking off the last bits of his laughter, Orankem let out a gasp as he rubbed his midsection. “Besal didn’t send you here. It might have seemed like an order, but I assure you, she knew you would have things to ask me. I, on the other hand, would not have expected that as your first question.”

To say that Seratem felt irritated would have been insufficient, but the young man willed control over himself while in the presence of an elder and his… person. Seratem continued to ponder just what exactly the relationship between the two was. “Would it be alright if I asked personal questions?”

“I do not see why not,” Orankem said with a smile before taking another drink from his cup.

“How did Avoquin come to stay here? I mean… she isn’t exactly a Dovicarus is she?”

Orankem chuckled and took another sip of tea. “That sounds more like a question for her, but I can answer the first part. The second part, Avoquin can answer for herself.” He set down the saucer and cup upon the small table, then folded his hands together in front of him and began. “To understand how Avoquin came to stay here within our domain, we much first go back to when the Landbound of Myirrua learned to call forth creatures of other realms. One realm to be exact, Gahnheir.”

“The Realm of Summons…”

“Correct. Heretic Ezekiel was the one who taught the Landbound of Myirrua our glyphs of summoning.” Orankem picked up his tea and drank another sip, as if to wash away a bad taste in his mouth. “At the time, we only knew that Ezekiel became a heretic, but as to why we did not know. It was not until later, after when he was reborn and his memories flowed back did he remember what his heresy was. By then, the Landbound of Myirrua had schools of learning dedicated to our summoning arts.”

“But to summon without the Dovicarian blood would mean death in the long run!”

“Partially correct. The Landbound of Myirrua learned that quickly. One of their own, Seppes I believe she was named, found a way to extend their resistance through combining restoration mantra and extended power glyphs. Over the years, the Landbound refined it and scribed what we know as a Summoner’s Glyph.”

“I thought they were no longer in existence.”

“Partially correct again. The years right before the Myirrua Unification War, the Summoner Games had grown increasingly popular. Though they were illegal in the Landbound law, many of their magi were drawn to them. The wealth obtained from winning a single game would surpass the treasure holds of many monarchs of that time.”

All of the pieces seemed to fall in place one by one as Seratem frowned suddenly. “Do you mean to tell me that Avoquin is a summon from those times?”

The elder only smiled at the comprehension and nodded slowly. “I will let Avoquin explain her origins before I continue with the story of how she came here.” Raising his cup for another sip, he stopped and watched Avoquin approach with the tea pot and motion for him to move his cup closer. He took a quick glance and chuckled, noting that he was about to drink from an empty cup. “Thank you Avoquin, well-timed as always.”

It was the first time that Seratem saw any sort of facial reaction or emotion in the woman when the elder offered those words. It was a weak smile, but one nonetheless as it etched itself across her lips. After she made sure Seratem also had enough, she sat down upon the stool again and closed the lid of her left eye. The right then began to shift to the same blue as the starlight she consumed before. “We are the Clockwork Sentient of the Cholshek, born on the night of the Eastern Winds.” The eye then rotated to look at Orankem, as if asking if it was a sufficient answer.

The elder, with his eyes closed, only nodded slowly before willing softly, “Describe your kind, Avoquin, as you did with me.”

“Very well.” As she spoke, her left wing extended out to its full length of three feet with an alarming metallic scraping. “We, the Clockwork Sentient, were made for one purpose. War. The battlefield is our home.” As she spoke, the glossy white feathers of her left wing began to molt and fall to the floor. What were left were at least fifteen blades of varying lengths still attached. “We were weapons to the Cholshek before their fall to the Kaelmor.” She lifted her left hand, reach out and as she did, the closest blade detached and she caught it. Avoquin then brought it closer and switched it to her right hand. “We were perfect of body, lacking of mind.” To further explain, she suddenly cleaved off her left hand in a single clean stroke. With practiced precision, the blade stopped moving as soon as the hand fell to the ground.

Seratem recoiled in his chair but a chuckle from Orankem made him settle down again. The young man was disturbed by the fact that the woman didn’t even flinch. Before his very eyes, another hand sprouted and grew at an alarming rate. As it grew, the woman bent and picked up the severed limb, and to Seratem’s horror, she swallowed it after only chewing it once. Suddenly, Seratem wished he hadn’t eaten before he came to see the two.

Orankem only chuckled again as Avoquin’s expression remained bland in her continued explanation. “We, the Clockwork Sentient, are of the constructed. All organic and some inorganic material can be consumed to fuel our bodies.”

Still trying to overcome his previous disgust, Seratem uttered out in confusion at the foreign terms, “What do you mean by organic and inorganic?”

Orankem answered quickly, “Once living and nonliving.”

Avoquin nodded once and continued as if never interrupted. “Because we lack a sufficient mind, we, the Clockwork Sentient, require masters. We posses no will of our own. We have no fears. We have no loves. We have only preferences.” Her right eye then returned to the pastel purple and she opened her left once more.

Frowning, Seratem stared at the woman and then to Orankem, who only smiled as if knowing what he wanted to ask. To save the young man trouble, Orankem said slowly, “I am Avoquin’s current master.”

“I suppose I should have figured that and I suppose that’s how she also got here?”

Orankem shook his head. “Avoquin, who was your master before I?”

At the question, Avoquin’s eyes fell and the lids closed as if trying to shut out the memory of loss. “Azza dae Farinma.”

[orphans]

Even though Seratem enjoyed history and was rather good at it, he was still far from remembering all of the events as clearly as the elders. On top of that, all of the new facts, pieces of the puzzle, and answers he received, all move in circles. All of them connected in some strange fashion. It made it hard to think and even harder to believe that Azza, his friend that he thought he knew so well, had been the previous master of Avoquin.

“Thank you Avoquin, I know you prefer not to recall those events, so I will explain in your stead.” Seratem watched Avoquin exhale deeply while Orankem just adjusted his glasses. “As you have figured out, Avoquin is indeed a summon from the times during the Summoner Games. Her previous master before our Sister Azza was a kind fellow by the name of Mikhail Lodofon and he was successful during that time.”

“What do you mean?”

However, before Orankem could answer, Avoquin spoke up first. There was an obviously surprised, but pleased, expression upon his face when she did. “Master Mikhail treated us as family. It gave us, the creatures of Gahnheir, a reason to exist upon this plane. We fought for one another.”

“Correct as always, Avoquin. Unfortunately for the summoners, the Warden Magi of Garnett Circle City cracked down upon the games one year right before Myirrua Unification War.” Chuckling suddenly, he shook his head at the remembrance. “Or at least, that is what the Landbound remember.”

Seratem grimaced once more. “Our Order had a hand in the events?”

“Yes. We disguised ourselves among the Circle’s Magi.” Closing his eyes with a sigh, he continued after a pause. “Many were against the Matriarch Besal’s decision and even more so were opposed to the amount of force she used. Yet, when we arrived, all of our opinions changed.”

“How much force are we talking about….?”

“Forty elders along with one hundred fifty grave keepers and two hundred warrior caste. Only four hundred actual Circle’s Warden Magi were present.” His eyes opened and held darkness in them as he spoke of the event. “In the eyes of the Landbound, it was simply a large group of Circle Magi and Magi Knights.”

“That seems a bit excessive… I never imaged that Matriarch Besal would abuse her power as such…”

Orankem laughed and even Avoquin opened her eyes with a tiny grin. “We elders thought the same, but as I said, our opinions changed. The elders, myself included, underestimated how well the Landbound have learned to fight and how many there would be in attendance.”

“We had no recorded losses from that time period though. I should know since I was tasked with chronicling the death of our kind since I’ve had my station.”

Orankem gave a deep nod. “You are correct. Had we elders actually decided to go with just ourselves, the results would have been vastly different.”

“Azza was among the warrior caste that went along then, wasn’t she?”

“Correct again. In fact, Avoquin held Sister Azza and two other warriors at bay for quite a long time.” Seratem choked on his tea as he heard the statement.

Avoquin offered a napkin from somewhere and said quietly, “I would have lost in time. It was a match of endurance.”

“That was only to give you an understanding of what we were up against, Brother Seratem, and as to why Besal is still our matriarch. She has proven beyond a doubt, countless times, that she is the wisest among us.” He chuckled again, suddenly recalling something private. “Despite her being the most eccentric among our kind. Perhaps that is why she is so wise.”

Shaking his head quickly, Seratem asked with exasperation, “I still don’t see how Azza became Avoquin’s master.”

“I was just getting to that. Once Mikhail died, the mind link between him and Avoquin vanished. To function properly, Avoquin needs a host mind. Please correct me if I’m wrong, Avoquin.” Peering at the woman over his glasses, he waited for a nod before continuing. “Since Azza was the closest, I assumed that Avoquin’s mind link simply jumped to her.”

Avoquin shook her head slowly and Orankem stopped his explanation. “Azza dae Farinma was chosen. Rather, our minds reached out to one another.”

“What… do you mean?” Seratem moved to the edge of his seat, intent on catching every syllable. Avoquin, however, stayed silent and closed her eyes once more.

With a sigh Orankem shook his head. “She has not told me the reason as well. Apparently, Matriarch Besal is the only soul that Avoquin has told.” Chuckling, he mumbled softly, “Hypothetically, I could command her, but I believe that Avoquin deserves to keep her own secrets if she prefers.”

Seratem sighed as well before leaning back into his chair in defeat. “Avoquin, may I ask one more question then?”

The woman opened her eyes and obvious confusion danced in them. “You just did, did you not?”

Orankem chuckled and Seratem brought a hand up to his own temple to massage them. “Right, forgot. Construct logic. Did you know Sister Azza well?”

“Yes.”

Seratem sat waiting for her to speak more before he realized the question he asked had been answered already with the single word. Orankem laughed and asked the woman, “Through what means did you come to know Sister Azza?”

“I taught Azza dae Farinma our Clockwork swordplay. She learned quickly. In return, she taught me about life.”

[orphans]

For the rest of his time there, Seratem listened to Orankem’s stories of kingdoms long since passed, how the fabled island of Re’il Kiln truly does exist, when the Ceranti Islands were once one, and when the humans of Myirrua were nothing more than tiny tribes struggling in the harsh wilderness. All the while, Avoquin served the two jasmine tea until the pot emptied completely.

By the time Seratem was ready to bid farewell, the sun had disappeared beyond the veil and in its place, the twin moons of Vyanm shimmered. Orankem bid the young man farewell and mentioned something about returning to his projects, leaving Avoquin to see him out. As the two walked in silence, the young man couldn’t help but glance at the construct inquisitively. She was alone in this world, in every shape and meaning. Her kind was far away in another realm, separated not by miles of land, sea, or air, but by the very fabric of existence. In short, Seratem felt a sting of pity for the construct. Yet, even as he wandered his thoughts, it occurred to him that she might not even know the meaning of remorse. Perhaps another day he would learn more.

Saying a quick farewell at the door, Seratem began to climb out the broken wall when he heard Avoquin speak bluntly, “You have unanswered questions.”

That stopped him and made him nod his head slowly. “I do but I don’t mind if we save it for another day.”

A sudden broad smile from the construct had the Dovicarus blinking his eyes, just to make sure he was seeing correctly. “I have questions of my own, but until another day then, Seratem dae Farinma.”

The door closed quietly and as the sound of Avoquin’s footsteps faded away, Seratem remained standing there in shock. Eventually, it turned to a smile as he wondered just exactly how the construct would be curious enough to have questions of her own. With a push from his feet, Seratem leapt out the broken wall and drifted slowly towards the main halls of the monastery.

On the way down, he could hear the children singing from the pavilion where lessons were normally taught. Confused, he drifted closer in interest and settled down at the entrance of the open structure. Inside, he saw a sister leading the children in song as bright inscriptions of the old language drifted across behind her. Realizing what it was, Seratem’s eyes widened in surprise, but kept silent as he took an empty seat in the back.

For how long he stayed there listening to the hymns of old being sung by the new, Seratem didn’t know. He enjoyed it though and it made him realize all the more that he had been in solitude for too long. He had so desperately wanted to discover the reason of his friend’s heresy that he had forsaken the rest of his order. In doing so, he found himself left behind by the changes of the ten short years.

At the end, a brother stopped in and motioned to the sister leading the hymns. Seeing this, the sister made a motion for the children to stop, and they did so with a unanimous sigh of relief. Quickly, they stood as one and rushed about the brother who was to lead them away, most likely to bed.

Seratem chuckled as the group of children was lead away by the brother. As Seratem turned to watch them move away, he heard the steps of the sister walk closer and stop before him. “They’re a spirited bunch aren’t they?” the sister asked him with a giggle.

He turned and smiled back, studying the sister to see if he could recognize her. Right away, his eyes widened once more and he stood up quickly. “Sister Sakuya, I didn’t know that you taught the children.”

The woman giggled again and smiled to Seratem in the pale blue shine of the starlights. A movement on her head and a swish of something behind the woman in the dark tempted Seratem to light the area more, but something held him back. “I do what I can on my spare time. Besides, I like the children.”

“So I see. I thought the tradition of weaving magic by song disappeared long ago though.” With a hand, he indicated the scrawling text that drifted behind her.

“Oh that’s right, I did hear that you disappeared for ten years so you wouldn’t know about some of the new changes.” Taking a few steps back, she spread her arms out wide and collected the words that drifted about. With a flick of her wrist, she brought them all in front of herself. “The old language is being forgotten by many of the elders and in an effort to revive it, Matriarch Besal tasked me with teaching it to the children through song.”

Seratem narrowed his brow while his face scrunched inward at the impracticality of it. “I can understand the old words holding much knowledge and power, but what’s the point of having the younger learn it if the elders are forgetting it?”

Sakuya giggled once more and folded the words upon themselves and then realigned them in a new order. “The older language holds power through song and requires many of the order to harmonize for the full effect, thus it was abandoned in favor for quicker and easier methods.” Folding the words once more, they began to shift colors rapidly from a forest green to a golden brown as she continued, “However, the magic within the songs of the old language have farther reaching effects and they last much longer than what we have right now.”

The man took in a breath and let out a heavy sigh as he thought. “If I remember correctly, restoration is your specialty.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“I thought that song weaving didn’t cope very well with restoration and barriers. The only instance I’ve read about song weaving in the history books was about how the Dovicarus of old used it to decimate the Xue Kname.”

The woman snickered. As she did, Seratem noticed the pair of furred ears, illuminated by the words, upon her head. Seeing where his eyes were focusing, Sakuya only giggled yet again. “I see you’ve noticed my peculiarities within the order.”

[orphans]

With the children gone, the pavilion was empty save for the two Dovicarus sitting upon an empty bench. Seratem had never considered his kind to be the sort to hoard secrets, but even then, the secrets they held seemed to be given away so easily. Save for the knowledge of their language, Seratem wouldn’t put it past any Dovicarus to share their knowledge with any Landbound if the Landbound in question proved themselves worthy.

In their mutual silence, the two watched others of their kind passing through the halls, some chattering about the Landbound village and others about what to do in the coming weeks. Every time Seratem was sure of the question he wanted to ask, he backed off with a grimace. Sakuya, on the other hand, was content to lean back and relax. Eventually though, she was the first to break the silence. “It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”

Taking his time to cast his gaze around the area, he landed his eyes upon the blue light of the starlights that danced off the stone-worked pillars, how the sky was cloudless and filled with stars, and how even the song of the children still lingered in the air in wispy trails. “Yes it is.”

Silence once again.

“Might… I ask about…” Seratem began, but then trailed off as he leaned back against the bench with another exhale.

Snickering, Sakuya finished it for him, “About my ears and tail?”

A nervous laugh came from the young man. Sakuya was, after all, his senior by a few hundred years and this being their first meeting, probably wasn’t the best way to start things off. “If I may.”

In the faint light, Seratem could make out a soft smile from the woman. “Would you like a short story or a long one?”

“Whichever you feel is the most appropriate.”

To that, Sakuya’s smile broadened and then she dipped her head once. “Very well, I will tell it as I see fit.” Bringing up her hands, she interlaced her fingers together in a loose pattern before gliding them apart slowly. In their wake, small shimmering images of Landbound, a large city, and a single Dovicarus appeared.

“A long time ago…”

[orphans]

“When the Corallen Empire was at its height in Myirrua, we Dovicarus had a time of peace that we had not seen for thousands of years.” The gleaming shapes of Landbound began to move around in the fabricated city while the lone Dovicarian figure stood still outside the gates. “During this time our kind had many more Wayfarers and Scouts than previous recorded history. Without the constant conflict of the Myirruan Landbound, many of the warriors were lost in their purpose.”

The single figure of the Dovicarus donned a cloak and pulled the hood over its head. Seemingly satisfied, it moved through the gates and disappeared among the Landbound crowds. “In hopes of learning, some disguised themselves among the Landbound.” The scene moved to find the lone figure of their kind sitting among a group of viewers, staring up at a troupe of traveling performers.

“Others of our kind decided to journey away to seek new things and new challenges.” The figures blurred for a moment and changed to a single Dovicarus once more. This time however, the figure was dressed in armor and wielded a great blade. Alongside the figure stood two others, Landbound, who wore similar garb and wielded weapons of equal size. Their foe was a beast of an impossibly large stature.

Once more, the scene shifted as Sakuya continued speaking with a snicker. “Most however, preferred to mingle and explore the other worlds with similar Landbound.” As the frame stilled in the air, it depicted a single Dovicarus once more. This time though, the Dovicarus moved about odd looking roads with even more unusual looking steel wagons that moved without horses!

Slowly, the view moved close enough to see the details of hair, horns, and even the odd clothing that their fellow kind wore to fit in. Yet, when the figure craned its head towards the two, as if looking at them through the veil of time, Seratem’s eyes widened. “That’s-”

“Yes… before Besal became our Matriarch.”

The scene distorted once and came into focus quickly, showing a large wooded area with a small earthen cottage. “During her time away, Besal still favored what was familiar to her and settled upon this small place.” A small image of Besal strode out of the house, as if on cue, and stood staring up into the sky. As the two watched, another figure walked out and stood beside Besal.

It was one of the many Landbound, but this time it wasn’t the normal humankind. Instead, it resembled one of the beast folks of the Ceranti Islands. “From him, Besal learned many things about their strange world, about the way they live, and of how the Landbound formed bonds of their own.” As they watched, the small figure of Besal and the Landbound joined hands together and embraced. Their foreheads were placed together, both pairs of eyes closed, and both smiling.

While Seratem watched, bits and pieces clicked together, but not in the way he had imagined nor in a way would he have ever guessed in a thousand years. Had Sakuya not shown him what she did, Seratem would have still been left wondering about her peculiarities. Seeing his comprehension, Sakuya waved away the image and sat there with a forlorn smile as she waited for him to speak first.

“I always thought… that bearing child with a Landbound was against our oaths…” The words themselves felt insubstantial and made him question all that he had learned. Was it even possible for a heretic to redeem themselves and become the leader of kind?

“Besal thought the same. It was a simple misinterpretation by those before us, and it was through my father that Besal has come to appreciate the Landbound as much as she does.” Closing her eyes, the woman then let out a deep sigh..

“The concept of parents… it eludes me, but I can imagine it equal to losing someone you’ve befriended.”

Sakuya chortled and held her sides as Seratem only looked on, perplexed. “I find it funny that our kind can still surprise me after so many years! I never thought that someone that was a product of a pure soul bond and one so young would have such a deep grasp on Landbound emotions.”

Seratem contorted his face in a frown. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is… other than elders, it is rare for others of our kind to have complex emotions that are similar to the Landbound. It’s why we, as an order, can function as we do.” As she finished, her expression dimmed before starting again. “But… there are always exceptions. Most of those have turned heretic.”

[orphans]

The two sat in silence once more as the winter winds whistled across the pavilion they sat in. Did being a pure soul really matter that much? It only meant that his predecessors had never committed heresy. Did it really affect how each and every Dovicarus acted? It was true that most of the order itself was comprised of pure souls, as heretics were rare and far between, but Seratem had never really thought about the implications until now. Drifting his eyes to his senior, he broke the silence hesitantly. “May I ask something personal, Sister Sakuya?”

Another chuckle. “My, since you put it so formally, Brother Seratem, I suppose it would be rude for me to deny you.”

Seratem smiled tensely at her response, but pushed forward with the question anyway. “What are you considered as, in terms of a soul combination?”

Tilting her head up to the sky, she held it there for a long while before closing her eyes with a smile. “I am something new. At least that is what I am led to believe.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

Sakuya shrugged at the question, making Seratem frown again. “I don’t know. I’m still learning what it all means. I do know that my outlook on things differs greatly from the majority of our kind.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Depends on who you talk to. Some think that my very existence is heresy, but they don’t outright say it.”

“I’m guessing it’s because they don’t wish to cross our Matriarch?”

She began with a yawn and blinked her eyes a few times. “I suppose that is part of it. Unfortunately, you must pardon me soon. Unlike the rest of our kind, I require sleep as a necessity.”

“Of course, Sister Sakuya.” Seratem stood up and waited for the woman to do so, so that he might accompany her for a moment longer.

Instead, Sakuya just stared and giggled yet again, realizing what he was waiting for. “Brother Seratem, I sleep here. The children will wake me in the morning, usually by tugging my sleeves.”

Feeling foolish, Seratem brought a hand to rub the side of his neck. “Till again, Sister Sakuya.”

“Till again, Brother Seratem.”


Once Seratem had entered the monastery proper, he looked about at his fellow kind, still moving about, doing their individual tasks or assignments. He never thought about how strange it might seem that only those who were bored and the young, slept. Shaking his head at the thoughts and events of the day, he heaved a sigh and began walking. Where it led, he didn’t really care, but he wanted desperately to make sense of everything. If anything, it seemed that the Matriarch had just sent him running around blindly the whole day.

However, he knew better than to think that. He knew that there was reasoning behind it all. There had to be. After all, she was their Matriarch and even the oldest elder, Orankem, admitted to her being the wisest of them all. Eventually, Seratem found himself in the lobby of the monastery’s archives. At once, he spotted the keeper waving to him. A familiar face that he had not seen in over a decade and try as he might, couldn’t attach a name to it.

A girl with dark brown curls and dull grey eyes stood behind a desk, waiting anxiously for Seratem to approach closer. As he got closer, she smiled and held up a finger for him to wait a moment. He did so, as she ducked under the desk and resurfaced a moment later with two large volumes. “Matriarch Besal told me that you were looking for these, Brother Seratem.”

Stunned, Seratem stared stupidly at the girl. It took him a moment to realize that girl had indeed referred to him by name, and with some hesitance he accepted the heavy leather-bound books. So far, everyone that the Matriarch wanted him to meet seemed to happen to be exactly where he was going. It was all far too convenient to be coincidence, but to what purpose?

He brought the books over to an empty table and stared at the two volumes for a good while. Both were written in the ancient tongue and that by itself puzzled Seratem, as the only thing that the ancient tongue was used for was to chronicle the hatchings and the spell tomes.

Bringing over the lighter volume first, he traced a finger upon the words as he read. “Our Fallen Brothers and Sisters.” Seratem took his glasses off quickly and stared at the words again to make sure he was reading them correctly. “That can’t be right…” he murmured. Still, it was entirely possible that the Matriarch had deliberately selected a book from the archives he had no access to, but to what end?

Sighing, he pushed the lighter volume away and dragged over the heavier one. As he traced the name and read it, he couldn’t help but chuckle. It was the book chronicling his hatching, as well as Azza and Nathan, and hundreds of others. “Children of the Shattered Moon.”

[orphans]

Under the guidance of The Never Ending Coil, day of the Shattered Moon, these children of Farinma are hatched into existence to safeguard our world. Archived below are the lineages of spirits that form the past and join the present in the ever turning cycle.

One by one, Seratem read each of the names, their parents, and current station. Their status within the order was denoted with a faint coloring of their name. Blue was for compliance within the order, thus the majority. Occasionally there was green to signify wayfarers or scouts. Rarely did the color of heresy and cleansing, red, show up.

However, as Seratem approached the end of the alphabetically arranged “A” group, he noticed something strange. Rather, it was something missing. Pouring over the last few pages once more, he read each name carefully and slowly.

Aztyrl dae Farinma, Child of Jiariah and Nemilph
Azyza dae Farinma, Child of Ericklos and Penelope
Bastel dae Farinma, Child of Gehntoph and Daniel

An exhausted sigh heaved from the man as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes gingerly. Records were strictly kept and made sure to be correct. The very fact that he had reviewed this book before was almost a further insult to him. Yet, how could he have missed it before? True he wasn’t as attentive as before, but was that what the Matriarch was hoping for him to catch then?

His suspicions were confirmed when he turned the page to discover a torn slip of paper written in old calligraphy. The very fact that it was addressed to him made him chuckle. “Matriarch Besal… should have known.”

To Seratem dae Farinma, when you have read this, you will have discovered that the name you seek was never in this tome. No doubt, you have questions as to why. You could spend another hundred or so years searching the reason within our archives, but I believe that would be cruel. Instead, turn to the very back cover and peel away the endpaper. I trust you know what to do with the other book.

Another chuckle drifted from his lips as he shook his head. He couldn’t understand the perplexing way that his Matriarch worked, but he was glad that it did. Seratem was also rather thankful that she spared him the search, as he wouldn’t have thought of doing such a thing to a book. Taking in a deep breath, he turned the entire volume to the end cover and ran a quick hand over the paper. With a swift breath, he took hold of a corner and peeled the endpaper away. With it removed, Seratem finally found and read what he had been searching for.

Azza dae Farinma, Child of Haydan and Sola

Without wasting any more time, Seratem pulled the other tome over and began scouring the pages for the two names on a hunch. Why else would the Matriarch have provided it? Seraten was soon rewarded again.

Haydan dae Farinma, fallen, crimes are blood shedding of Landbound without cause and endangering the hatchery
Sola dae Farinma, heretic, crime is endangering the hatchery

At long last, the missing pieces were in his hands. At long last, the search had come to an end. Then again, something still didn’t make sense. Something such as this should have never happened. The thought of the Matriarch having a hand in the events sent a shudder down his spine, but if she did, how was she not a heretic? Surely to even partake in such things would have made her one.

Clearing his head, he stood up and rubbed his tired eyes. The Matriarch would be the one to meet with and get the answers he so desperately sought. With that plan in mind, he picked up the books and returned them to the keeper at the desk.

“I trust that they were helpful?”

“They were. Thank you Sister…”

Snickering, she bowed her head slowly. “Ullana. I figured you forgot my name, Brother Seratem.”

“Apologies.” Looking a bit flustered, he brought a hand up to rub the back of his stiff neck. “Matriarch Besal wouldn’t happen to leave anything else for me, did she?”

The girl smiled. “Matriarch Besal is expecting you after you've finished.”

[orphans]

The task of finding where Matriarch Besal was was much easier said than done. She had a room, but she was rarely there. Even then, most of the order didn’t even know where the room was, and the few that did, never had a reason to visit her. At the same time, when someone was looking for her, she would find them first.

If anything, this made Seratem wonder if he should even try to search for her. Slowly, he paced the halls of the monastery by himself. Passing many new faces and only a few familiar ones, he couldn’t help but sigh. The decade that he had been gone had changed the monastery to the point that he nearly didn’t recognize it anymore. While it was true that many of the things remained the same, those that inhabited it seemed to change quickly. Yet, he knew this wasn’t the case and that those who were familiar were most likely busy.

The last he checked, the Myirruan Unification War was burning itself out. Whether or not it really had he didn’t know, nor did he care. The affairs of the Landbound were always confusing. Everything was complicated, mixed with lies, and in the end, even the liars couldn’t tell the truth from their own fiction.

As the thoughts of the day ran through his head, he couldn’t help but try and shake them away. Perhaps the order was more complicated than the Landbound. Things had seemed so simple in the beginning when he was assigned his station, but now, it was all he could do from yelling in frustration.

Letting another sigh escape from him, he looked about where he had wandered to and frowned instantly. No matter what, it seemed that he was always wandering back to the memory chamber by habit. As he stood there staring, he wondered if he could view the memories of those that formed Azza’s own soul.

“I thought I would find you here, Brother Seratem.” Turning, he saw the smile of the Matriarch and couldn’t help but smile as well at how familiar the scene felt.

“I believe you said that to me this morning.”

“That is true, is it not?” Snickering, the woman turned and made her way towards a bench in the corridor and sat down. “I trust that you’ve gotten the books from Ullana?”

“Yes, they were helpful.” The man leaned himself against the wall by the door and looked to the Matriarch, itching to ask what her involvement was. Somehow, each time he formed the question in his mind, he rejected it until he finally just blurted out, “How were Sola and Hayden allowed to even perform a hatching?”

The Matriarch stayed quiet and slowly, her smile faded to a grimace. “I knew of their transgression only after the fact and as unfortunate as it may be, I take responsibility for our Sister Azza going astray.”

“Sister Besal, I don’t think any of us could have stopped her.”

The words brought the woman little comfort as she shook her head quickly. “I could have watched her much more closely. I knew there was something strange about her.”

“What do you mean exactly?” The words of his Matriarch confused him. Rather, how she knew about Azza’s abnormalities confused him.

“Mmm... I am not exactly sure how to explain it, but after one has seen enough hatchings, you can tell usually right away those that might go astray in our order.” Bringing a hand to scratch at the side of her head, the smile returned slowly as she continued. “It does not mean that it is an accurate calculation, but after a while, one learns to trust their gut feeling, no?”

“How did Hayden and Sola manage to hide their egg among the hatchery though? Isn’t it guarded at all times?”

Besal snickered at the question and shook her head. “It is guarded by enchantments against outsiders, but other than that, there are little more than just wooden doors.” The woman then stood to stretch her back and wings with a deep breath. “I trust everyone within our order, Brother Seratem.”

“Even the heretics?”

“Even them.”

Silence flowed between the two of them as Seratem thought of what he should ask next. The answers he had gotten were much simpler than he imagined and he had little more to ask. What remained, he felt as though he should figure out for himself.

Besal watched and understood his reluctance. Saving his breath, she spoke softly for him. “You wish to know how to bring Azza back, yes?”

“Yes, I would like to, but I know that is impossible.”

The woman said nothing at first and walked closer. As she did, she reached into a pocket and fished out a small silver chain. On the end was a steel vial with a screw top and before he could say anything, she pressed it into his hands. “I know you have been assigned to watch over Azza from afar. I also know that you’ve been tempted to meld more directly into her mindscape, so that you could watch her more directly.”

Shocked at her knowledge, he accepted the vial and watched as she stepped back slowly. Turning his eyes to the small vial in his hand, he could feel a gentle pulse of energy from it. Surprised once more at what it was, he looked up anxiously, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Brother Seratem, melding into another’s mindscape is always a dangerous thing. For one such as Azza, someone that should have never even been allowed to live, it would even be dangerous for the more senior members.” The smile upon her lips did little to reassure him.

“Why allow me to do this then? Why not allow a more experienced brother or sister to meld into her mindscape?”

Besal only closed her eyes and said softly. “Because, anyone else would fail.”

[orphans]

Seratem grasped the small metal vial tightly in his hand as his gaze sought out his Matriarch. The question of why he had to be the one tickled his tongue, but at the same time, he was afraid of the answer. The fact that she expected him to succeed where others much better suited would fail, weighed upon his shoulders heavily. He had to succeed.

“Believe in yourself, Brother Seratem. Are you not the prodigy of your hatching?” At that, the man furrowed his brow and frowned.

“Sister Besal, I’m still not exactly sure how I am. If I was a true prodigy, shouldn’t I excel in all of the traditional arts and martial arts? We both know that I’ve only done well in the traditional.”

Another smile appeared on the woman’s lips. “You will master both in time and in time, you will also learn as to why you are referred to as a prodigy by us elders.”

“Would knowing now change the course of events?”

“It might. For now, you have enough to focus on without other things distracting you, no? I know Orankem showed you some of my secrets that you would still like answers to.”

“I... yes, I would.”

“After you return then.” With that, the woman turned to leave, making her way to a set of stairs close by. Once there, she stopped and turned to him and said quickly, “Prepare yourself before the journey, Brother Seratem. Sister Ullana would be more than happy to help.”

As she left, Seratem opened his hand to look upon the vial once more. “Oracle’s Grace…” Though the pulsing of energy was calming, the legends associated behind such an object only made him worry more. He didn’t want to imagine what was inside Azza’s mindscape that could warrant the need of such a relic. He couldn’t.

A soft night breeze whispered through the corridors as he stood there, deciding what to do. He could easily make for a mind melding chamber or he could do as the Matriarch suggested, and seek the keeper at the library once more. Yet, had he not waited long enough? He knew full well of the dangers that mind melding presented.

Glancing to the vial in his hand once more, he exhaled quietly, knowing that the wiser of the two options would take more time. Still he hesitated and glanced out of one of the archways, his thoughts jumbling together inside his head. Many questions still begged to be answered and as much as he’d like answers to all of them, the Matriarch was right. He had to focus.

Finally, he stuffed the vial into a pocket and began his way towards the library. Every step he took, he became more and more certain that it would be the right decision. He would seek the help of the keeper of the library and limit himself to a few hours at most.

As he entered the foyer of the library once more, he saw the sister wave to him once more. Seratem had a creeping suspicion that the Matriarch had stopped by to inform her and as he neared, she offered a warm smile and quick bow of her head. “Welcome back, Brother Seratem. Did you need something else?”

It was a pleasant surprise to know that he wasn’t simply just a pawn dancing in the center of the Matriarch’s palm and that she had indeed left the option up to him to choose. However, even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help feel as though he had just passed a secret trial and that she was watching the events unfold. Returning the smile to Ullana, he spoke quickly, “Yes, I need as much information as you can possibly offer me about mind melding.”

Sensing urgency in his voice, Ullana picked up a small plaque and placed it on the desk, stating that she would return soon. “Follow me then, if you will.” Quickly, she moved around the desk at a brisk pace and began winding through the corridor of shelves holding numerous tomes and manuscripts.

Even though Seratem knew the library well, it was all he could do to follow the girl. To her, the place was as familiar as the back of her hands and she didn’t stop until she found what he needed. When she pulled a tome free, it was dusty from lack of use and surprisingly thin. With a breath, she cleared off the debris and handed it to him.

“No title?”

Smiling, the Ullana nodded to the question. “Only those who need it, find it. Would have taken a week for it to appear before you though.”

“Thank you again, Sister Ullana.” Taking a quick view about him, he then turned back to her with a sheepish grin. “If it isn’t too much to ask, would you lead the way out again?”

Ullana only chuckled and began walking slowly. “The last time anyone needed that book was when I first became keeper. The person had your eyes too, desperate and passionate. Strange for our kind.”

Seratem made a sound to indicate that he was listening.

“Whatever your task, do take care. No matter how strong or weak one is in the physical world, the realm of the mind takes none of that into account.”

“What do you mean?”

The girl didn’t reply right away as their steps echoed among the shelves stacked upon other shelves. It wasn’t until that the two entered the foyer once more did Ullana turn to face Seratem. “What I mean is, trust yourself as the only truth while inside the mind of another. What we know as fact here could very well be fiction inside whomever you wish to meld with.”

It was Seratem’s turn to stay silent and mull over what the girl said.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine so don’t worry about it.” Glancing over to the front desk to see a few of their kind waiting, Ullana turned to Seratem and bowed her head again quickly. “Just be sure to read that book. You wanted to seek it after all.”

Gripping the book, Seratem watched the girl walk off with a grim expression. Don’t worry about it? How in Vyanm was he not supposed to worry about it? Even with the book in hand, he couldn’t help but feel that the girl was holding something back and even though he wanted to ask her, he felt that she withheld it for a reason. To what effect, he didn’t know.

Whatever the reason, wondering about it wasn’t going to get anything done. With that in mind, the man walked with more resolve in each step towards the melding chambers. Along the way, he thumbed through the book for a quick view, knowing that it would take him an hour or so of walking into the depth of the monastery.

When he at last reached the entrance of the chambers, he closed the book. The particular area was much more different from the rest of the Monastery and resembled more of a natural cavern. In fact, the stalagmites and stalactites made a shiver run down Seratem’s spine, his imagination playing tricks on him. He could have sworn one or two of them moved in the watery blue light that flooded the cave from some unseen source. However, the touch of his kind was still evident as he proceeded further. Large towering doors of stone covered in the ancient tongue blocked his path and as he walked closer, he could feel a warm breeze emanating from it, as if it breathed.

Off to either side of the door there were chairs and tables arranged neatly, easily able to hold a score of people. He began to wonder what the reason was, but quickly, he reminded himself to focus and made his way over to one of the many empty chairs with the book. The beginning was good a place to start as any.

Heed this warning well, children of Farinma: Once lost within the mind of another, nothing can save you, but yourself.

[orphans]

Forget all that you have learned, and learn once more through the perspective of the one you meld. Remember only the scent of snow. Forget your form and embrace anything you become. Remember only the song of feathers. Forget…

Seratem continued to read line of command after command, unsure if he could remember all of them. As he continued, he noticed that some made no sense while other went directly against the order and bordered on heresy. Half way through, he stopped to rest his eye. Frustration accompanied him as he continued to read on at an agonizing pace. Would any of this really prepare him? The book was full of the knowledge of elders, meant to deal with situations that had happened before. Didn’t the Matriarch say that Sister Azza was something that should have never existed?

And since she had and was completely different, wouldn’t the accumulation of this very book be useless?

Avoid the snare of chains.

Seratem stopped. He had reached the end about two thirds in. Nevertheless, an invisible hand continued to write as he read.

Blame not the child lost, seek truth.

The child, Seratem figured would be Azza, but truth?

Believe the pure, avoid the taint.

Seratem frowned, unable to understand and as much as he wished to, the book simply continued on.

Conquer the shadow, rekindle the fire.

Conquer? It was the first time the book had mentioned anything of the sort. The shadow, he assumed, was whatever was polluting his friend. However, he was beginning to understand the purpose of the book.

He who will shepherd the Children of the Shattered Moon must walk the path and fail. He who will shepherd his kind must learn cunning, patience, and wait until the day of struggle.

A laugh rose from Seratem as realization struck. A nervous laugh as he realized that the book wrote of what must be done and how it must be done. Regardless of what he knew, he felt a bead of fear roll down his back. It presented no conclusion and he was not one that liked surprise endings.

[orphans]

Seratem had a feeling that the book was referring to him as the shepherd of his hatching, however, it didn’t feel right. He had done nothing to deserve such a title. Coil’s breath, he didn’t even do anything outstanding to deserve a title of prodigy! With a sigh, he gazed across the open space before the door to the empty chairs and table on the other side.

“Trust yourself as the only truth…” Echoing those words chilled him. Hints, advice, and knowledge did little to prepare him. In the end, he still didn’t have a clue as to what exactly he would face inside a mind meld. There was so little written about it, and the only book that was supposed to offer insight, only did so in the means of unfulfilled ifs and partial prophecies. His eyes fell to the pages of the book once more, hoping for something new to have appeared.

Nothing.

Another sigh passed from him as he gradually stood up with the book in hand. Whether or not he was fully prepared, he felt that he had everything he’d be able to get. Of course he could ask the Matriarch for her assistance and what he should do and how to do it exactly, but what would be the point if he couldn’t save his friend himself?

This was something he wanted to do alone.

Yet, was he strong enough? The very thought of traversing planes of existence and melding minds was enough to make him doubt his abilities.

Seratem began to take slow steps towards the door.

Azza had been a strong individual, assertive, and knew what she wanted. She had strived to become respected among the warrior caste. That was then. Would she still be the same now? She would be a child again…

… would her fighting spirit still burn inside?

Reaching the massive stone doors, he looked for a way in and found nothing. The ancient tongue upon the doors gave no direction of how to enter. However, as Seratem walked closer still, he noticed a small groove. Strictly on a feeling, he raised the book and pressed it into the slot. By the time he realized what he did, an audible groan as the towers of stone began to part before him.

Center of the room, a pedestal stood illuminated in a single pillar of bright light. Everything else, even though well lit, was distorted as if viewed from behind a thin sheet of melting wax. Closer and closer he walked and when he finally reached the center, he could feel uncomfortable warmth warping and pulling at him.

Upon the pedestal rested a lone shimmering orb that outshone any star that Seratem knew. As he stared, he felt himself being drawn in slowly. Something told him that this was it and somehow, the proper procedure of mind melding had always been with him.

Whispers filled his ears as he took hold of the object and lifted it before his eyes. Staring into the blinding light, he began to recite softly, over and over.

“We untie ourselves from this world to walk the misfortunes of others.”

[orphans]

For how long he recited the phrase Seratem had no idea and there was a brief moment in which his faith waned in the ritual. Eventually, he could feel a slight tingling sensation that escalated slowly. Finally, when it felt as though a thousand needles were pricking him and when he could still himself no longer, everything faded away.



“… was it wise?”

“… we shouldn’t have allowed it…”

“…heretics.”

“Sometimes, we must go against the order…”

“… they are what will save us.”



Something echoed; something soft and tender. Ignoring the soreness invading every inch of his muscles, Seratem dragged himself up off the floor. There was no source of light anywhere, but as he gazed around he could see everything illuminated in a dim glow. Recollection told him that he had just mind melded with his friend, yet, how everything looked, seemed rather strange. The first step Seratem took, he heard a snapping beneath his feet. Reactively, he looked down and immediately frowned.

Bones.

There was reluctance in his movement as he picked one up. Upon closer inspection he could see something odd. “Crystal bones…” At once, he knew there was something wrong. Looking to the center pedestal, he could see the orb broken in half. Nervously, he scratched the back of his head when a sudden and familiar voice called out to him.

“Release me...”

Seratem began to move, as if strings were tugging him closer to a door. Focusing, he couldn’t remember there being another door in the chamber. If anything, the doors should have been massive, instead of a small wooden one. Recalling the words of the library keeper, he repeated her words, “Trust myself as the only truth.”

Suddenly, he felt his senses rushing back as a spine tingling screech reverberated in the air. A combination of anger, sorrow and remorse flooded the man and as he willed himself to fight it off, he felt the grip of reality slipping. The walls around him disintegrated without warning and sunlight blinded his eyes and very mind.

“Sera, you’ll help me out right?”

“Sera, do you think I’ll be able to learn that soon?”

“Sera…”

“… Sera.”

Screaming in agony, he fell to his knees before reaching up to clutch at his horns. The invading memories tore relentlessly and after what seemed to be eons, it stopped. His breath felt heavy, everything ached, and his vision was in a crimson haze. Again, he picked himself up and felt a great weight upon him. Armor to be precise. It was the same ceremonial armors that Azza wore during the winter festivals.

He chuckled.

Or was it him? It certainly didn’t sound like him, and he didn’t know why he found it amusing. A flurry of white abruptly cascaded down his shoulders as he tilted his head down to look himself over.

“Trust myself as the only truth… seems like I’ve lost.”

It wasn’t until the chirp of a bird, did Seratem look around himself to take in his surroundings. Tiny blue flowers as far as the eye could see formed a swaying ocean in the gentle breeze. The pedestal, now covered in ivy, still cradled the broken orb.


Giggling.


Turning quickly, Seratem caught the sight of a small figure disappearing through a door frame a ways off from the pedestal. Against caution, he rushed after it.

[orphans]

Immediately, he regretted it. Chains wrapped about him and pulled him to the floor as soon as he entered the doorway. Defiantly, he fought against them from pulling him completely to the stone. Through sheer force he broke away, but as he did, heavy spikes impaled his wrists against a granite wall behind him.

Confusion and anger blinded him as his eyes looked about for his attacker. In frustration, he screamed out and tried to wrench his arms free, ignoring the pain as blood poured down.

“This is unexpected…” A horned child stepped out from behind a pillar and looked to Seratem with a grimace that turned quickly into a grin. Brushing her white hair out of her face, the child rolled her shoulders in a bit of annoyance and then fluttered her wings a bit.

“Azza…?” Disbelief welled up, yet, as he stared, Seratem couldn’t help begin to feel a rising rage inside of him. The child was indeed the exact image of his friend when they were children, but she wore a heavy robe. One that was much too large for her.

“You can think of me as such. Am I to think the same of you, servant of Farinma?”

Seratem spat out, “What in Coil’s breath do you mean?” Quickly, he was stunned by what he said. He would have never said anything in such a manner. It was… crude.

Annoyance fixed itself into the girl’s face as she replied quickly, “A servant of Farinma mind melds with the unawakened Azza and takes her adult form. Truly, you are mocking us, are you not?”

What the child asked and said gave Seratem enough time to think and recollect himself. Had he done what the entity said? Yet, it didn’t seem to recognize Seratem because of it. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

The eyes of the child narrowed. “Sister of Farinma, you mock us. No matter to who you are. You are snared in and I am free until this mind begins to awaken. Until then, welcome to my purgatory.”

The child turned away and swept her arms up to the pillars around them in the large room. Without Seratem’s notice, their surroundings had become that of some temple. Granite floors, pillars and walls. Torches were mounted upon the large columns and try as they might, the light from the torches couldn’t reveal the shadows of the ceiling. In front of Seratem, a worn carpet led all the way to the opposite wall and a wooden door.

“It sucks.” Had the situation not been so grim, Seratem would have chuckled as he mimicked the voice of his late friend perfectly. So much so, that the child turned to him with a suspicious eye.

“Azza dae Farinma still lives, does she? I thought that was the first thing I managed to destroy.”

Seratem grinned in a mixture of realization and triumph. Whoever, or whatever, was in front of him was not the friend he knew. In fact, he was certain now that she was the corruption inside. But if that was true, where was the real Azza?

“No… you can’t be the last remaining bit of her…” Studying Seratem with her crimson eyes, the doppelganger of his friend suddenly smiled a vicious smile. “Do tell me, Sister of Farinma, who are you?”

As Seratem was about to reply, the child suddenly held up her hand. “It seems we have guests… do try not to bleed so much.”

Fatigue was beginning to claw into Seratem as he tried to answer the girl. It was an unusual feeling, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. In the end, he slumped against his bindings and watched with a glare as the child stepped back into the shadows.

[orphans]

The doors opened and two figures looked about their surroundings. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=61906#post61906) As much as Seratem strained his eyes, he couldn’t make out the two figures very well, but he could see that one was a child and the other a man. However, the child looked strangely familiar even though they were both human Landbound. The curtain of white hair in front of his face did little to help him as he glared out at the absurdity of what was happening.

“Brother Seratem, melding into another’s mindscape is always a dangerous thing...” The remembrance of Besal’s words did little to comfort him. As he thought of this, he knew he would have to do his best to rid the two and force them back. It would be the least he could do.

As they stepped closer, he instantly recognized the child as Azza. At least, it looked like her before her horns had begun to grow. Had he been able to, he’d have groaned in despair. Instead, he did little more than stare.

“Who would do this to another person?” The man, who was leading Azza, looked disgusted while Azza seemed void of any feeling. After a moment, he began to pick up his pace and reached a jog. “Don’t worry! I’ll get you down.” When the man reached Seratem, he began to tug at the chains, trying to find a way to loosen them.

Seratem was able to get a good look into the man’s brown eyes, and although thankful for his efforts, knew that the man was inexperienced in this realm. “It’s no use, save your energy…”

“She’s right you know. You can’t dislodge her like that.” Stepping out of the shadows of a nearby column, the child appeared once more, but dressed in the same ceremonial armor of their Order. Lifting his head up, Seratem tried to move but merely made the chains rattle.

Walking closer, the child laughed before giving a careless shrug. Looking up at the man, she passed on a smile that would have soothed the soul of a feral beast but what was said completely erased that image. “If you want to release her you have to kill her.”

In his heart, Seratem felt true panic. To be killed in the mindscape of another would block him from ever entering again. It would prevent him from saving his friend for good.

Turning around and gesturing to Azza, who had been standing there blankly, the horned child then focused her attention to the man again. “Unfortunate girl isn’t she?” Without looking, she beckoned the small girl towards the group with a wave of her hand.

“Monster…” Seratem blurted out. He needed to stop this somehow. Anything! He could still feel some strength inside of him, and if luck was on his side, the corrupt entity of Azza would only be a warped copy of his friend was in the past: Weak in arcane and strong in her physical abilities…

“Quite the contrary…” Stooping up to retrieve what used to be a massive blade from between a broken pillar, the child turned to the human man once more and offered it to him with it laid out on her palms. “Cut off her head, and then mine… if you have the stomach for it.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The man asked. He took a step back and stared at the horned child, recoiling from the blade meant to kill Seratem. “Kill her to free her? That doesn’t make any sense.” He returned to Seratem once more, determination and defiance in his eyes.

“Besides, she doesn’t seem to be in favor of the whole notion of cutting heads off,” the human man continued. Walking right by the girl holding the sword, the man uttered an incomprehensible syllable and produced a small ball of fire into his hand. He moved the flame toward one of the links in the chain. His eyes met with those of Seratem’s for a fleeting instant. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.”

Seratem only gazed back in a blank fashion, perplexed at the man’s efforts in trying to cut the chains of the mind with fire. Still, with his small trace of outside magic, it was all Seratem needed as a focus. His eyes closed as he moved his lips in a quick incantation to attract something to distract the horned child away from the two Landbound.

Dropping the broken blade onto the ground the horned child simply laughed at the man’s refusal, oblivious to Seratem’s efforts. It only took a moment’s notice for the incantation to be completed and at that moment, an ear-splitting bellow shook the very foundation of the building. The guttural roar was followed immediately by a crash against the wall from the outside, sending chandeliers and bricks falling.

Drained by his efforts, Seratem slumped against his bonds once more, his senses fading as darkness crowded around his eyes. It seemed that there were more corruptions inside Azza than he had imagined, all fighting for what was left. He could hear the man yelling in panic, and if Seratem’s gamble was right, the man would try and take the child Azza and the corrupted doppelganger would be able to fend off the beast he called. In the end as Seratem hung his head down, he broke into a private grin as he recalled the brief passage of his fate.


He who will shepherd the Children of the Shattered Moon must walk the path and fail. He who will shepherd his kind must learn cunning, patience, and wait until the day of struggle.

[orphans]

Requested Spoils List-

Changes in Physical Appearances and/or Abilities:

The Troubled Guardian: Despite Seratem’s efforts, he could not avoid fate and has been caught in the web of the corrupted entity inside Azza during the mind meld. For now, he is a trapped entity inside Azza’s mindscape, but is able to reach out occasionally to steer the girl away from trouble. It was never able to manifest until the day of Azza’s 13th birthday as voices.

Voracious Corruption: Azza’s mindscape had been broken since her formation and corrupted entities have been warring inside the girl in an attempt to take control. One in particular has taken the form of a younger Azza and seems to have a fair amount of knowledge about the Dovicarus and their Order. At this point, its origin, plans, and true form are unclear.


Items Gained/Lost-

Oracle’s Grace: A small metal vial on a silver chain. It radiates a gentle pulsing of energy and was carried with Seratem into Azza’s mindscape. Seratem’s knowledge of the item is limited, and only knows legends of how it is used to “stave off great disaster.” The item currently only exists inside Azza’s mindscape, and it is unclear as to whether Seratem is currently in possession of it.

[Silence Sei]

• STORY ~ Let me just say that this was a good overall story, I enjoyed reading it, but there were a couple of glaring flaws. I’m going to try and help the best I can here, and if my judgement isn’t ‘in depth’ enough, just hit me up on AIM and we’ll talk about it.



Continuity (5/10) ~ I really had trouble keeping up with all of your NPCs. By page 2, I believe you were in the double digits of introducing characters, a couple of which served no real purpose other than to talk to Seratem for a post or two. I did enjoy the link posted at the end of the thread, it was a nice surprise to see an older thread taking effect into a newer one, and you got points here because of it, averaging you out.


Setting (7/10) ~ Your settings were good, if a bit confusing at times. I imagined the lanbound village as just a regular village, Ork’s house as an ancient temple of such, and Azza’s mindscape as a dark and terrifying place. I’m not sure if that’s what you were going for in your descriptions, but I really did enjoy reading the little things you put in there just to help setting (children playing, how many cups of tea seratem/ork went through, etc etc)

Pacing (8/10) ~ You could have got a 10 here if the ending had not felt so rushed. Also, there were times you stretched out something for a post or two you could have easily done in the first post (Sayuka’s explanation of the ears comes to mind). If something makes a post seem shorter than what you’ve set the goal for yourself at as average, I’d suggest just sticking it in another post. Otherwise, it comes off as something epically important to warrant its own post, but isn’t.

Story Total: 20/30
• CHARACTER ~ You did extremely well here.

Dialogue (8/10) ~ Dialogue Was believable and I could understand it quiten well. Though I wasn’t sure of the source materials, I could understand what the discussions meant to the characters, and the impact it had on them. I would suggest letting more emotion flow out from different characters, however. Everyone in Seratems hatchery seemed carefree while all the elders/sisters seemed to have that quiet reserve about them. I felt like you could have held every conversation with 2, maybe 3 characters up until the end. Make them more unqiue, and not just with appearance.

Action (7/10) ~ The investigation of Azza was something to marvel at, however, there were points where I felt Seratem lost track of his purpose. Asking Sayuka about the ears, despite the fact it was none of his business, for example. Delving deeper took me into wanting to know more about Sayuka, and less about what had happened to Azza, or what Seratem was going through. You made some very unique characters in this quest, but every time you gave a history lesson on them, I wanted to learn about them and not about the person who started this whole quest.



Persona (8/10) ~ Like I said in dialogue, you did really well in conveying emotion in the characters speech. Furthermore, I felt that there were quirks that made each character a bit different (even if they all did feel like different takes on the same person). The actual act of the mindmeld confused me, but so did everything involving the mindscape and what not. I only wish you displayed more emoptions in the final scene. Fight your bonds some more, shout obscenities, stuff that makes it seem like you’re struggling before reaching your epiphany.

Character Score: 23/30

• WRITING STYLE ~

Mechanics (9/10) ~ I can’t really give you any bad marks here, you did extremely well in spelling and gramma. My only qualms were a few awkward phrases here and there, and if you need examples, I’d be happy to supply over IM.

Technique (7/10) ~ I sensed some great foreshadowing, and the epiphany at the end was pretty good. There was some more stuff you could have done (comparing life to a baked potato, for instance, even if was an askewed outlook).

Clarity (5/10) ~ This is the hardest score to give for this thread, and it took me an hour to finally decide. While I could understand you for the most part, I’m afraid that I was so confused by the actual story stuff (What the hell did Azza DO?! Was her act of heresy simply killing the Brother? Were those her parents who snuck the egg in?) that it effected the thread as a whole. Sometimes, writing style is not the best place for Clarity, because if you don’t understand anything going on in the thread, it can be just as deterring. I know you probably have something in mind for this that will shed light on these mysteries for me, if you haven’t already, and I look forward to seeing them.
Wild Card (7/10) ~ I really enjoyed thisthread, and that’s all I got to say about that.

Writing Style Score: 28/40

Total Score: 71/100

Orphans gets 2300 exp and 0 GP (Sera has no need for it, and why would Azza come across any?)

Spoils approved pending RoG.

[Silence Sei]

exp-gp added.

orphans leveled. Now maybe someone will want em!