El Festival De Muerte - The Taste of Regret

[Iriah Caitrak]

(Solo. This takes place right after El Festival De Muerte.)




The day, it passed.
Slowly, yet fast.
Lost in a dream,
On the edge of a seam.

She wondered what time it was and how long she had been lying here for.

It was her first coherent thought in the cacophony of memories she had been sifting through, reliving as it were. Images playing over and over again in her mind so much so that they started to overlap, blur together and become as one. A confusing array of senses overriding the one before it. Smell overpowered the sense of feeling making everything reek of rot and the taste of ash was prominent over the sight of so many good things, things she should remember now above all else. But now, a canopy. Above her, materials dyed in dark purple and red crossed the bedposts and mixed together. She’d stopped looking at it a long time ago. Her sightlessly staring eyes could no longer take in the beauty of the material as light from dying candles cast shadows over it.

She felt tired, yet restless and knew sleep was going to be evading her for tonight…if it even was night. Somehow, she got the feeling it was, which meant she’d been lying here for hours since her bath and the events that had transpired prior to that. Events she didn’t want to think about but couldn’t help to remember. How sad that the things you wanted to forget always wormed into the forefront of your mind.

One coherent thought followed another and the Calerian wondered at the possibility of moving. She could feel sore muscles—they were protesting at sitting still for too long—begging for her to move. But she found neither the will nor the motivation to do so. She just wanted to continue to lie here while the world passed her by, content for all eternity. And it wasn’t just Storm, she knew this. His rejection stung more than she was willing to admit, but it was more than that. It was the loss of Uriahd as well, it was the way the people of Astaka looked at her, twice corrupted, a monster in their eyes and still walking…still breathing. It was also her responsibility as a Calerian; it was beginning to weigh her down. Seeing the souls of the dead, hearing their grief and trying to help them, while being viciously attacked and knowing that freeing them from Purgatory was another notch in her life. It wore away at anyone’s resole and it was starting to destroy hers.

What good was it to have all these great and powerful abilities if you lost the will to use them?

Her stomach growled.

So much for wasting away as the world passed her by.

Odd, no other motivation could move her, yet the moment her stomach began to plead for food she knew she should get up, but was she going to? The thought to move was tempting and coming back into reality Ira began to hear the faint sound of an extremely upbeat drum thumping against the rhythm of her heart. The festival was still taking place, normally a joyous and grand event for her and her friends. She wondered if it was the second night now or had more than just a day passed while she’d been battling within herself?

Some people, they acted as if they had inner demons, hers were real and ready to take her over.

Groaning, the Calerian shifted her weight and rolled onto her side, staying there for just a moment as the overstuffed mattress absorbed her, making her question her actions of getting out of bed. It was so comfortable being surrounded by the deeply coloured silk sheets and pillows; she really did have a lot of pillows. Still, she knew she had to, deep down, somewhere inside her currently depressed mind she knew she needed to get up and do something. Life was for the living and she planned on having a long life. No matter the events that were pressing against her soul, she couldn’t give up on herself, she was not going to stop her self loathing, maybe later, but right now she was very happy—well, sad really—to loath her own existence. That didn’t mean she couldn’t eat though.

Getting to her feet, Ira arched her back and stretched her arms out above her head, feeling every crack, shift, pop and stretch as her body worked the stiffness out. Her toes—bare footed in her home, what a surprise—wiggled as she touched the cool, decorative carpet that adorned most of her room. Once her obligatory stretch was concluded, Ira combed her fingers through her hair so she looked somewhat presentable and left her bedroom, moving around the small table in the centre of the room and pushing passed the drape covering the doorway. Beyond her room it was dark, pitch black actually and if not for the fact that this was her own home she might actually be in a spot of trouble. She didn’t need any candles to help her find her way though.

Oh yeah…candles.

Remembering that she’d left a few still burning in her room and not wanting her home to burn down, Ira went back inside and snuffed them. The air immediately filled with that indistinguishable smell of burnt something. There really was no way to describe the smell the smoke gave off; just the pungent scent on an extinguished candle and it permeated her room for the moment. Enjoying it, Ira turned to leave and actually tripped over the table on her way out. Cursing aloud and attempting to make herself feel better, Ira made a mental note to move it later, not that she was going to.

Stopping outside her door, Ira turned left then right as she tried to get her bearings in the darkness. Deciding on left and not bothering to feel around she soon found herself lying on her back, sprawled over her living room floor with an aching shin that was most likely going to bruise. What she tripped over she didn’t exactly know, though a wild guess was another table. Oh yeah, she definitely knew the way around her own house, couldn’t even make it to the front door without killing herself. Someone really hated her today.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Fresh air was good for you, or so they said.

She didn’t see what was so good about it at the moment. It was noisy, there were too many people in too close of an area for her liking and she was starting to get one monster of a headache. The food wasn’t even very appetizing now that there was a plate of it sitting right in front of her. Some of it was even her favourite. Desert Foul, Giaz, Desert Drake, plenty of breads and cheeses, not to mention fruit from Suravani’s Oasis. All of these things were spread out on large platters at every long table, and there were quite a few tables throughout the area. Hers was farther back from the festivities and mostly empty. There was one other Calerian sitting a ways down, but thankfully he remained silent and oblivious to Ira. At least the amraphala was going down smooth.

Time to drown her sorrows in an endless bottle of alcohol, well, perhaps that was going a little too far. The strong alcohol was already beginning to affect her, her lips were numb, her body’s first sign that the euphoria of the drink was starting to take over. Still, as much as she liked the numb feeling she was not going to drink herself unconscious, she still had too much common sense for that. She knew she was well off compared to some people out there; she just couldn’t enjoy or appreciate it at the moment. Too many things were changing way too quickly for her to even make sense of them.

How I wish you were still here, Uri…

She could just imagine the look on her friends face if she could see her now. It would be scolding for allowing herself to get into a state like this, but in her eyes Ira would see the concern and sadness. Uri always had telling eyes. Even thinking about it, a small smile began to crack the corners of her mouth.

“Ira, stop feeling so sorry for yourself and get up off your ass before I beat it!”

The Calerian sighed as she thought and pictured her friend in her mind’s eye. A nostalgic image that reminded her of so many happy memories that quickly began to cover the current images playing throughout her head. She remembered the first time she’d gone to Purgatory, Uriahd had been there, so had Revor and many other inexperienced Calerians, not to mention the experienced ones there to help guide them. They’d run into a small group of Fallen that day and Uri, Revor and herself had all worked together to defeat two, just two. Funny how inexperienced they’d been yet thought they could take on the world and win even at that. Ira could now handle up to five Fallen on her own because they weren’t strategic, they just blindly attacked. And once someone knew their enemy the battle was already half won. That wasn’t to say all battles were easy, even experienced Calerians still lost their lives to Fallen. They were after all, still dangerous foes to be wary of.

Turning around on the wooden bench, which creaked at her lightly moving weight, Ira pressed her back into the edge of the table and looked out at the mass of people still here for the festival. Apparently, an attack by a large group of Fallen did not disrupt many of the festivities. The heavy beat of drums was nearly drowned out by the sounds of those talking in all different kinds of languages, Fallien, Common, Tradespeak and some Ira didn’t know or recognize. She needed to get out of Fallien and actually explore Althanas more. Perhaps getting away would be a good thing for her. She could forget about her problems, and enjoy new and uncomplicated things. She’d left Astaka once before, the first time she’d been corrupted, but she’d been gone only a little over a month before Gereint had called her back for the festival. She’d only just begun to explore Corone and Raiaera, literally having just arrived in the region of the Elves. She should not have returned, things would be a lot different if she’d just continued to explore, like Revor, he was still out there…somewhere.

Staring blindly into the crowd, Ira watched one random face after another, the few foreigners to their land standing out amongst all the dark skin and the Calerians standing out due to their hair and eyes. It was such an interesting gathering of people but she couldn’t find the motivation to mingle with the crowd, just what was she doing out here? Food had been the main reason but now that food was so unappetizing, why was she staying? She did notice a few faces and a few eyes glance her way from time to time, their conversation lost in the sea of mingling words. She assumed they recognized her from the dance she’d done by the still blazing bonfire, either that or the battle that had taken place. One of the men broke away and began walking towards her and Ira sighed as she turned her head. Whatever he was selling, she was not interested. She just wanted to be left alone.

“No one should look that sad at a party such a this.”

Real smooth, couldn’t come up with anything better to say?

Turning her head to him Ira watched the smile flash across his face, a handsome face with bright blue eyes. He was clearly not from this land, he had an accent that sounded vaguely familiar from her short travels, but it was the pale skin and heavy clothing that gave it away. He must sweat like crazy in those.

“Some people have good reason to be sad…” She said absently as she turned from him and looked to the crowd once again. He somehow took this as an invitation to sit down on the bench beside her. The bench sagged and groaned under his added weight, but the sound was barely discernable over the volume of noise from the crowd.

He wasn’t bad looking and he wasn’t intoxicated either. There was a drink in his hand but when she’d looked in his eyes they’d still been sharp instead of the glaze most people had when they’d drank too much. But he was the last thing she wanted to see, he reminded her of Storm. Who’d been just another pale skinned foreigner until the impossible happened. Until they’d fought something she still couldn’t understand. Until he’d rejected her.

[Iriah Caitrak]

“So if you have a good reason to be sad what is it?”

Ira opened her mouth, ready to spill her troubles to the siahd but she quickly closed it before anything had the chance to slip out. They were her problems, not his and she understood them. Well, she barely understood them. He would know nothing of what she spoke. Besides, the last thing she needed was someone else involved.

“Look, this really isn’t—”

“Isn’t any of my business, I know.” He finished for her.

She didn’t know whether to smile or frown at him and judging by his face, her expression was somewhere in between.

“I’m not trying to hit on you.”

Hit on her? Well, that was good to know. The last time she checked he hadn’t been trying to hit her earlier either. Why would anyone want to do that? Plus, she was rather confident in her abilities to defend herself should he get the sudden urge to ‘hit on her’.

“I get the distinct feeling you took that the wrong way.” He smirked and ran long fingers through dark brown hair, pulling wayward strands away from his face. His skin was practically porcelain compared to hers. In a way it reminded her of milky Culli glass.

“Probably…”

“What I meant to say was I’m not expecting anything… I mean, you’re very beautifully but…” He chuckled to himself and shook his head, “perhaps best you didn’t get what I really meant. ‘Tis but a cultural saying from where I hail.”

“And where is it you’re from?”

Damn her curiosity. The question slipped out before she could think better of asking it. She should really stand up and walk away from him but she found herself intrigued. Knowing fully well that it didn’t take much to intrigue her, just a new accent and stories of what lies beyond this region of Althanas. He didn’t seem to have any problems satisfying her curiosity either.

“Salvar. Some friends and I decided to travel to warmer climes. Fallien was the perfect choice…the perfect place. This entire region and the people within it are so wonderfully exotic. Were we in Irrakam for a fortnight when we heard about this grand festival that happened apparently in the middle of nowhere, the desert of all places! What we found when we arrived here was far beyond our imaginations. I pictured something far cruder than this and definitely not as many people. One could say I was pleasantly surprised. Pardon, I find myself prattling…”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” His smile was ever present. It warmed his blue eyes.

Taking a sit from his drink, he rested the cup upon the table, “have you ever been to Salvar?”

Ira shook her head, “I haven’t had the chance to travel much. I was gone for a month and then called back for this…the festival of the dead.”

“Why do you call it the festival of the dead?”

“It’s a week long celebration in which we remember those who came and went before us. Though it may appear to be a grand party for people unfamiliar with it, it is our way of honouring the sacrifices of our ancestors. We celebrate the life we have and it is believed that during this week the souls of the dead mingle with the living.” Something that had never happened before, until this year’s celebration. “On the first night we dance of life and death. And on the final night, we’ll travel to the valley of the dead.”

He looked intrigued and slightly confused at the same time, so she continued. “It’s a valley of stone that remembers all. At the end of the festival, a select group will travel with the Shaman to the valley. There he will carve the names of those we lost during the year so they can be remembered as well.”

“It’s beautiful and sad all at the same time…how long have your people been doing this?”

For as long as she could remember and beyond, “Centuries…the valley is hundreds of years old and there are thousands of names carved into those stones…” Ira trailed off as she realized what she’d just said. That valley had probably been around since her tribe settled in this area. Irenia and Seren’s names would be carved into those stones if what that woman had told her was true and she was in fact a Calerian warrior.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking a few times, the Calerian cleared her mind and looked back to the man beside her, suddenly realizing she didn’t know his name.

“Yes…sorry, I lost myself.” She smiled, “I just realized I don’t know you’re name. I’m Ira Shinkara.”

“My manners have turned and fled tonight. I am Denebriel Salgura. Most call me Den.”

“Denebriel…” She liked the sound of his name. It just had a certain flow.

Turning on the bench, Ira grabbed her glass and took a deep drink of the contents. The slight burn of the alcohol making its way down her throat was no longer as inviting as it had been before. For some reason, talking about almost nothing with this stranger had lightened her mood. Perhaps she had just needed to get her mind off the events that had taken place. She couldn’t stop thinking about the valley of the dead though. For some reason she had the impulse to go there and search for those two names, even though it was pitch black outside.

“You are leaving me for your thoughts once again and that smile has disappeared from your face.”

Her eyes had wandered to the crowd, but as he spoke she trained them back on him. He was watching her curiously and she knew he wanted her to talk about it but she was uncomfortable with telling him. She wasn’t ready to trust him yet.

“I must go.” She hadn’t realized she was going to say it until the words came out of her mouth.

Surprise flitted across his face for one fleeting moment, “But…”

“I’m sorry… I really am enjoying your company but talking about the valley just…. There’s something my mind does not wish to leave until later.”

He stood, “then let me be your escort.”

He held his hand out for her but Ira hesitated. The valley of the dead was not off limits, yet strangers very rarely ever went there. Not to mention it seemed so silly to say she was searching for two names among thousands and she didn’t even know their last name. Plus, he may ask why she wanted to find them and truthfully, she didn’t even know that. To reaffirm in her own mind that Iren had been on her side all along and had not tricked her into corrupting herself? Or was it something else? She just didn’t know. She was beginning to realize that there were a lot of things she just didn’t know.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira bit down on her lower lip as she extended her hand and placed it within his. The first thing she noticed as he helped her rise from the bench was how smooth the skin of his hand was. He was no warrior; in fact she was rather sure Denebriel had never worked a day in his life, not hard labour anyway. Her hands were scarred and calloused from years of handling weapons and she’d never been so aware of it before until this moment. He did not seem to notice at all and if it bothered him he wasn’t showing it.

“Where to this evening, my Lady?”

Definitely not a warrior. She was beginning to believe he was of a more noble birth the more he spoke. Not to mention he had impeccable manners and a respectful disposition. Fallien did not have a noble class like other regions did, but she had heard that most nobles were arrogant and snobbish. They looked down on those of not the same birth, especially warriors. Apparently not all were like that, either that or he was remarkable at hiding it. Ira considered herself a good judge of character, so she doubted he was hiding it from her. Then again, she could never be sure. Trust was something she did not freely hand out anymore and he was going to have to work to get hers. For now, his company would be appreciated. He would ask no questions, unlike her friends and he would expect nothing of her.

“To the valley of the dead, my Lord.”

She couldn’t help but mimic his speech, even if it brought a slight blush to her cheeks for some reason. It brought a grand smile and a light chuckle from him. He was always smiling.

“An interesting choice of venue for this evening, one I am glad you have allowed me to accompany you on.” Giving an over dramatic bow, Denebriel released her hand leaving Ira laughing, “See, now one such as you should always be laughing and smiling.”

His flattery was really beginning to embarrass her. Turning her head she began the walk towards the valley of the dead with Denebriel at her side. Keeping to the outskirts of the crowd, Ira scanned the twisting and turning bodies around the bonfire as they leapt and danced to the frantic beat of the drums. She did not spot any of her friends. Nor did she see them conversing around the tables or further yet in with the smaller crowds around the tents. Though it would matter little since she wouldn’t say anything to them, she just found it odd that she had yet to find them or they her. Of course she had been a little rude to Messia after she’d come out of Gereint’s tent.

Once away from the central area of Astaka, the noise began to slowly quiet down to a low rumble and so did the light; leaving the two of them with nothing but the moon and stars to guide them.

“Should we not have acquired a torch or other light source?”

Ira shook her head, “We won’t need it.”

With the entire tribe celebrating and away from their homes, the rest of Astaka looked like a ghost town. Quiet homes rose from the sand like sad monuments, waiting for their inhabitants to return. No welcoming billows of smoke rose from the roof hatch and no light burned within the area. Even the sand seemed cold and lonely, as the moon had stained it blue. It was an ocean frozen forever in the time of night, one that would disappear in the coming morning.

In silence they walked. Ira did not know what to say to her companion and what Denebriel was thinking she had no idea. He seemed content to walk in silence beside her. As they approached the outskirts of the tribe, the houses began to thin until none remained. Soon, Ira had led the two of them into open desert that spanned like a never-ending ocean.

“I never imagined it to look so beautiful at night.” His words were spoken in awe.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and saw the look of amazement overcoming his features. The desert at night was something she was used to; something that though beautiful was an everyday thing to her. Yet Denebriel reminded her that the ordinary to one was the extraordinary and beautiful to another. The great forest of Concordia was a wonder to her. She could spend forever wandering its paths and hidden valleys and be content to get lost within. While Denebriel found the sands of her home a beautiful and majestic sight. During the day though, she was sure he found it less inviting as the sands became blistering hot under the light of the sun.

“It can be quite breathtaking…”

As he gazed at the sands, so too did Ira. Only she was looking not at the beauty but for any potential threat, Arta to be specific. They rarely came so close to Astaka but it did happen on occasion and considering the impossible happened this week coming across an Arta did not seem so far off. They were hard to spot at night as their dark spot blended in to the shadows and darkness but if one was looking they should see them. Still, she saw nothing barring their way to the valley. Outside the tribe the sand shifted under her feet in an attempt to swallow them. Here it was not so packed from the many feet that had walked upon it. She was used to it though and her feet easily crossed the terrain, but Denebriel appeared to be having a harder time than she was.

“Do not fight against it or the sand will trap your foot.”

He looked up at her, a slight frown upon his face. The first one she’d seen from him. But it was one only of frustration or maybe a tad bit of annoyance. He was not frowning upon her.

“Not so beautiful now is it.” She said as she laughed.

His face cracked into a smile, “I suppose not…”

“If it tries to bury your foot do not fight it or it will…”

He did as she said and though he could not walk upon the desert with the same ease she did, he found himself having a much easier time.

“How far from the village is the valley?”

Ira looked towards the ever-expanding sands, “Only a short walk, ten minutes, no more.” It was out there, directly in their path. She couldn’t see it yet but she soon would and what then? This whole thing was still an uncertain mess within her mind. When she got there and found their names, or didn’t find their names, what did she plan on doing next? It could not change the past and the choice she’d made. Nothing could. She would have to cross that sand dune when she came to it, for now all she could was move forward.

[Iriah Caitrak]

“What it is like living out here?”

Ira pondered the question before giving her answer. To someone who had never experienced life out here for an extended period of time she doubted they could ever understand, “It’s never easy. Unlike the larger cities we do not depend on trade and commerce to keep us going. Anything we want and need we have to hunt and make for ourselves for the most part. The furnishings in our homes are about the only things we will trade and buy for and mostly with the Oasis Tribes as they live closer than Irrakam. We rely on one another and in our group we are stronger than we are apart. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in all of Althanas.”

She loved her home, her friends and her people. Though she was confused about her current situation she doubted she would change being born a Calerian. It gave her a sense in life. To know that she was helping people in a sense that many could not understand, even if it was difficult. Every time she travelled to Purgatory could potentially be her last, every Fallen she released could be the one to corruption her and the next corruption could be her final.

“You are a reliant community that shies away from the greed the rest of world is filled with.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, his face far away as if in thought. That certainly was one way of putting their existence, one she had never thought of before.

“We have nothing to be greedy over.”

“There is always someone filled with greed, a lust for power or a lust for money. It matters not, it will always find someone.” His words were saddened.

“And you, are you filled with greed?”

“Heh, hardly.”

The topic of conversation had suddenly become serious; she could feel it in the silence between them. She needed to change it, “What is it like in Salvar?”

“You have a desert of heat, but there we have a desert of cold.”

She found that very hard to believe, but she highly doubted he was lying to her.

“Up in the north it is a vast tundra of sweeping winds that chills one to their very marrow. Instead of the dunes of sand one will find themselves sinking into snow. Breathtaking and beautiful to behold in the eye, but deadly. Inexperienced travellers have often frozen to death on our vast terrain. People are not as reliant on a community as you are here; instead they rely on themselves and their family. Greed is also something that Salvarian’s understand much more than your people.”

It appeared they lived in two separate and very different worlds. Still, though he made it sound so harsh she would like to go there one day and explore the area; meet the people.

The sand began to rise into a small dune and as Ira began leading Denebriel up, he tripped over the sand. Reacting quickly she reached out and steadied him as a rather embarrassed look graced his face.

“You know, where I come from it is the man’s job to catch the woman when she needs assistance, not the other way around.

Ira smiled and shook her head as she continued up the small hill, “You’re in Fallien now. Here the women rule and we are the helping hand for men.”

“I don’t think I could ever become accustomed to that…”

A smile passed between them as they crested the hill and Ira paused. Below them the sand began to slope back down into a large valley set ablaze with the light of torches. Their fires eternal during this week of celebration. Never were they extinguished for this week of remembrance. They cast shadows through the valley as large jagged claws of rock jutted forth from the earth and attempted to scratch the sky. The light bounced between them casting a myriad of odd shapes and as the wind blew and shifted the flames it looked like a force of many dancing and moving below. But there were none. Ira and Denebriel were the only ones present.

“This is…”

“The valley of the dead.” She finished for him.

There was some kind of shock and amazement upon his face she couldn’t quite describe. She understood though, every time she stepped foot in this place it sent a chill over her skin. There was something about it that seemed so timeless, lost and sad even. The stones were silently crying out the pain of all those carved upon their surface to a heaven that wasn’t listening. It was like walking through here all those remembered were somehow with you even though it was impossible. As a Calerian she could hear, see and sense souls and none dwelled within this place. But at the end of this celebration there would be one name added here that would be forever seared in her mind and soul. Here Uriahd would be remembered, here her name would be carved upon a surface never changing. But the true person that Uriahd was would live on in Ira’s memories and in the mind’s of all those who knew her. Perhaps this place seemed so sad for though a name could be carved upon stone the person behind that name died with the memory of those who knew them.

[Iriah Caitrak]

“ ‘Tread lightly upon my earth, for you are walking in the land of the dead where your words mean nothing and mine everything.’ ”

Denebriel looked over at her curiously, “Did you write that?”

Ira smiled and laughed softly, “Hardly. It’s just from an old story in our tribe…”

The slope down into the valley was steep where they had emerged and most of the way down Ira slid rather than walked. A cascading waterfall of sand marked her arrival to anything below but the area was deserted. It almost looked like water the way the moon caught it and glistened off the tiny shards of rock. At the bottom, the Calerian shook the collected amount of sand from the top of her boots and took a deep breath. Out of thousands of names she was searching for two and she had a feeling this was a futile quest that would lead her to nothing.

The sand here was packed by the passage of many feet and easier to walk upon than the desert they had crossed. Denebriel would not have such a hard time walking but to Ira there was little difference. This was her home and the unique way in which to walk upon its surface was nothing new to her. It was natural and something she barely thought about. She only hated it when it ended up in her bed. There was nothing worse than trying to sleep on sand.

“May I inquire as to our purpose here?” Denebriel was supporting himself against one of the large stones as he attempted to shake sand from his boots. They were not made for desert crossing and as such she didn’t doubt there was an uncomfortable amount of the grains inside. He proved her correct when he dumped a small pile out and onto the ground.

“We’re looking for two names. Seren and Iren, unfortunately I do not have their family name, which will make the search harder and I have no idea how popular the name is.” Ira wrapped her arms under her chest as she looked out at the dozens of large stones with flat surfacing gleaming in the flickering light of torches.

The outer stones were for none warriors and those within the inner circles were reserved for people who fought The Fallen. Though a warrior was not above any other normal Calerian, the tribe long ago decided that their sacrifices deserved to be honoured. And as they had protected the village during their life, those who didn’t fight would surround and protect them afterwards.

“…I used to be a Calerian once too. Hundreds of years ago, before we harnessed the powers of crystals to help channel our abilities.”

Hundreds of years ago…that would mean their names would be closer to the centre of the valley. It was a place to start.

“We’ll check the central area first. They were most likely warriors too so they’ll be within the circle.”

Denebriel grunted his response as he continued to shake sand from his boot.

Hours later, Ira and Denebriel stood before one of many stones and looked before them. In all their searching they had never come across the names of Iren and Seren, except on this pillar. It was the only one and seeing it before her, Ira could not believe her eyes. Iren Crea and Seren Shinkara. Nothing more, nothing less. Their names as was required that they be remembered and never forgotten. But still, the Calerian could not believe what she was seeing. Seren was a relative of hers and Iren of Revor. They were that connected. If these were in fact the people she sought but she could not be sure. No images of them remained and none that would remember them. They had lived too long ago and she was the last of the Shinkara name and never had her mother mentioned an ancestor named Seren. She could ask Revor but something within her said it would be futile. They had been forgotten.

“I take it this is what you were looking for…”

Ira nodded her head as she watched the light reflect across the carved surface. Time had not touched it and never would, the Shamans always saw to that.

“Now what?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know…”

That wasn’t entirely true. She needed to go soul searching in a very figurative manner of speaking. Ira needed to travel to her soul and talk with Iren again. What she expected to learn from the woman she didn’t know but she knew she had to go back there. That meant this was as far as Denebriel could come with her. Storm travelling to her soul had been an anomaly that could not be repeated and even if she wanted to she doubted she could bring Denebriel with her. But to subject him to such a thing was cruel and beyond her abilities. Tonight was not the night though. She needed more rest before she could do such a thing not to mention she needed to build her own courage up. The last time she had travelled to her soul it had been a near disaster.

“We should return to the tribe and get some rest.”

Denebriel nodded his head, his eyes having never left her. She got the distinct feeling he knew something of what was on her mind though he could never know the full extent. He knew nothing of her people and the customs and ways in which they lived.

During the walk back neither of them talked. Ira was lost in her own thoughts of Iren and the short time they had spent together. The woman could tell her much of long ago times when things were much harder for Calerians. She would also be able to shed more light on what was happening within Ira and how she was changing. Whatever was on Denebriel’s mind she couldn’t guess.

At the edge of the tribe Ira paused, her home not being very far. It took Denebriel a moment to realize she no longer walked beside him. Once he turned back to her she spoke, “I thank you for having accompanied me.”

He inclined his head, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

She didn’t know the answer to that, “Perhaps…”

He gave her a small smile, “Perhaps is better than no. Good night, my lady.”

“Good night.”

Turning from him Ira began her walk home wondering if she would be able to sleep.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Her sleep was eventless. There were no dreams or nightmares to plague her waking mind as consciousness slowly stirred beneath the surface. It was just a restful slumber that left her feeling refreshed and thankful for the reprieve. But with waking up came knowing she had to move and the knowledge of the other task she had set herself for the day. A task she had no desire to complete yet knew she had to. She didn’t have to do it immediately though. Ira knew she could lay here for a few more minutes and stare into the pitch darkness of her room without disturbance. So she stretched, rubbed the sleep dust from her eyes and then stayed right there for how long she wasn’t sure, but it felt good to do nothing for a time.

Rolling over, she reached towards her nightstand, smacking her hand off the corner of it as she tried to find the top. Grabbing at a pile of matches, she struck one and lit the candle by the side of her bed. A gentle glow flooded her room, casting some areas into shadow and letting her eyes see the rest and see how she really needed to clean. There were clothes all over the floor, including the ones she’d worn yesterday. Of course she had more important things to worry about today. Cleaning could come later. Ira was just in the middle of getting dressed when she heard footsteps coming from the hall.

“Ira! Are you even awake in there!?”

Shaking her head, the Calerian just slipped her shirt into place when Messia came bursting through the cloth door of her room.

“Oh, so you are. I would have thought you’d still be sleeping.”

“Laying in bed doing nothing and sleeping are two different things, Messia.”

“I know…”

Her friend, not at all minding that Ira was not finished getting dressed, sat down on the edge of her bed and picked at the rumpled mess of sheets that Ira couldn’t be bothered fixing. She never saw the point in making her bed look neat after leaving it when she was only going to sleep it in again the next night. Maybe if she were to have company is said bed, but since that was not something she ever planned on doing it was a pointless reason.

Pulling back her long blue hair from her face, Messia grabbed a piece of string from around her wrist and tied it back. In what little light the one candle provided her friend appeared to have much darker skin than normal and her eyes looked black. Ira was rather certain her eyes shimmered in this kind of light, Uri told her once and said they reminded her of the eyes of a cat and the way they glowed. She’d also said it was very sexy and proceeded to flirt with Ira in the most outrageous way. It had been rather humorous and thinking about it now still brought a smile to her face.

“I saw you with someone last night…”

Ira was just in the middle of tying the string to her pants when Messia said it, her fingers stopping their work as she looked to her friend and sighed.

“That almost sounds like an accusation, Mess.”

“You wouldn’t talk to me all night!” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from Ira, instead looking at the glowing candle on her nightstand.

Was this really what was bothering her friend, the fact that she hadn’t confided in her but she’d spent a few hours with some siahd?

“I had things on my mind that I didn’t want to talk to anyone about and before you ask, no I did not confide in the stranger. He was just a distraction…”

That wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t confided in him but she had used his support for something she thought much harder than it really was. Messia wouldn’t understand though, she didn’t know what she went through inside her soul and hopefully she never would. Finishing the tie on her pants, Ira ran a brush through her hair a few times and then turned towards her friend.

“Is that all you came here about, because I wandered off with someone who knew nothing about my problems and gave me a moments rest from them?”

Her friend looked a little sheepish after that explanation. “I just…hate it when you don’t tell me things anymore. Even Gereint is a little worried about what’s been going on with you. He told me you wouldn’t tell him what happened while you were unconscious.”

“Gereint doesn’t need to know everything that happens within my mind and soul…”

She was scared to tell him and she knew it. He of all people would be able to see the changes in her and sense the corruption that lay just below the surface. He would know and then he would have no choice but to exile her from the tribe. It was the last thing she wanted even though part of her said it was for the best. She was no longer a true Calerian. That journey to her soul had changed that forever. Instead of dispelling the corruption she now used it in some unfathomable way. One that was she was going to discover today when she returned to her soul. Iren was going to tell her everything or so help her she was going to strangle the woman. Ira didn’t care if she was already a spirit, she could still hurt her.

“But Ira…Gereint’s job is to look out for us.”

“I know what his job is!”

The Calerian crossed her arms under her chest and turned away from her friend. She did not want to have this conversation, especially right now. This was something Gereint couldn’t help her with and the last thing she needed was more people looking at her like she was a monster the way Storm did. This was something she had to figure out on her own.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Ira turned back to her friend.

“No, I should be the one apologizing. I really thought that you were dead after what happened during the festival. I didn’t think you’d come out of it and if you did I thought you would be a corrupted monster. I kept trying to fortify myself for it, but then you emerged. Not just a creature that looked like you, but…you.”

Ira remained silent not wishing to interrupt her friend. She’d never thought what she’d gone through had been hard on anyone else but Storm and herself.

“Then you just came out of it as suddenly as you slipped in. When I saw you I thought you would just be back to the old you and everything would be normal again. I guess I never thought you would be dealing with what happened in ways I couldn’t imagine. I just want you back, happy and smiling…the way things used to be when Uri was here.”

Ira smiled and sat down beside her friend, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and giving her a tight squeeze.

“Perhaps they will be, Mess. But I just need some more time there are still things I haven’t wrapped up yet.”

Messia nodded her head but said nothing more.

Standing up, Ira grabbed the candle off her nightstand and made to leave her room, hearing Messia get up off the bed and follow after her. Once she was in her living room the light from outside was pouring in through the curtains of her front door and she no longer needed the candle. Extinguishing it, she set it down on the table.

“There are some thing I have to do today…I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

Mess nodded her head and gave Ira a hug that threatened to crush her, but she didn’t care.

“I’ll be back later tonight and I’ll let you know how they went.”

Her friend finally pulled away from her, gave her one last smile and then left Ira alone.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira watched Messia leave, staring at the empty space her friend had occupied moments before, already wishing she were back. She wanted another distraction, another reason not to go this, most of all she just didn’t want to be alone right now. But this was something she would have to do alone. No more dragging of innocents into her own problems and the quicker she allowed herself to accept that the better.

Walking to the entrance of her home, Ira tied the strings that held the thick tent flaps together so no one could come inside while she was soul searching. Doing it felt so final. It helped put the will back into her and reaffirmed that this is what she needed to do and was going to do it. No matter how much she argued about it in her mind, it was going to happen and that was that. No getting around it and no more postponing. Perhaps if she were lucky she may pull out in time to see Denebriel before the night’s festivities ended. Being around him made her forget about a lot of her problems and he somehow gave her confidence within herself, something she had been losing for a long while now. Ever since her mission to the Ruins of Kesta so much had happened and so much within her had changed.

Drawing in a fortifying breath, Ira walked back into the living room. Pushing the low table and couch away from the centre of the room, she sat down and looked around at the space making sure she had enough. Standing back up, she slipped into one of her spare rooms and rummaged around in a small cupboard until she pulled out an armful of candles. Carrying them back into the living room, she placed them on the few shelves lining the walls, on the table and even a few on the floor where she felt they would not tip over. Sitting back down, the Calerian looked around the room and at the dozens of flames burning brightly and casting a gentle glow. It seemed too calm and serene for the storm that was beginning to brew within her and cause her muscles to tremble and her heart to skip.

“I can do this…”

Taking another deep breath, she crossed her legs, rested her arms on her thighs and closed her eyes. The last time she had travelled to her soul by her own choice had been during her training and it had been rather brief. Today was she going there to discover the changes made within her and to talk to Iren, who just happened to be one of Revor’s ancestors and some person Iren had mentioned before named Seren that happened to be an ancestor of hers. Did Iren know this? Had she known before she’d even spoken to her or was it merely a rather large coincidence? Ira didn’t know anymore, but she was going to find out.

Pushing aside the thoughts, Ira focused on steadying her breathing and clearing her mind. Over and over again she repeated; breath in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, until she thought of nothing else. Then she pictured a place deep within herself, a private place that only she knew, a safe place where she could hide, a place that was her. The feeling of the carpet beneath her disappeared, the heat within her home vanished and the sound and feeling of steady breathing ceased leaving her in a void. She stayed there for a moment or two, how long exactly she couldn’t be sure without her senses. Then, just as suddenly as they left her, they returned and Ira found herself breathing in air that smelled of moist soil. The sound of singing birds filled her ears along with the dance of leaves on a gentle breeze that caressed her skin, cooling it with it’s touch.

Opening her eyes, Ira was blinded by the sudden and intense light and found herself having to quickly close them against it. Trying again, she slowly opened them this time, blinking against the light as she gave her eyes time to adjust. Once she was used to it, she realized she was sitting in a small grassy patch in the middle of a thick forest that looked too much like Concordia to her. Towering trees hundreds of years old raised themselves towards a brilliant blue sky without a cloud in it. All around her was tall grass that threatened to swallow her whole. It was all so alive, every colour vibrant and beyond what she expected to see considering the last time she had been here. It was breathtaking and her reminded her much of the first time she’d stepped foot into Concordia, the first forest she’d ever been in.

Now that she was here Ira found herself unsure of where to go.

“I-Iren?”

No one answered her back.

Standing up, the Calerian looked around her, spotting a small path hidden amongst the trees on the opposite of the grassy knoll from her. Keeping her senses on alert for anything that may be in here and her eyes constantly searching the area, Ira made her way through the forest. Every now and again she caught sight of some kind of animal scurrying away from her advancing steps, which she didn’t bother to even try and conceal. There was no way she could walk quietly along a ground littered with small twigs, sticks and dried leaves. The tall canopy above her blocked most of the sunlight, leaving the forest in shadows. Eventually the ground beneath her feet became sandy and though the trees didn’t die, there became fewer of them as their trunks were slowly swallowed deeper and deeper into the sand. Finally the tree line broke and Ira found herself in a small patch of desert lined with the remains of some ancient structure. Stone blocks poked up from the sand, worn by time, they appeared as nothing more than boulders. But their placement was too unique for that; hands had moved them there.

In the centre of all of this was a lone tent. It was the same one Ira had been before, the same one that she had talked to Iren in when Storm had been here. As if she’d some how known she was here, Iren stepped out from the gently moving tent flaps and gave a small smile as she looked at Ira. She looked exactly the same, her long red hair flowing down her back, her clothes, the same deep reds and purples that had worn before wrapped around her body protectively. Even her eyes were the same, the swirling silver that Ira herself had been given upon birth.

“I had a feeling you’d be back rather soon…”

Ira crossed her arms under her chest, “I want to know what’s going on within me and just what you’ve changed by making me bond myself to corruption.”

“I made you do nothing.”

Ira glared across the few feet that separated them, “Some choice I had. Either fight the corruption and take it within myself or allow it to overtake my body and destroy both Storm and myself.”

“It was still a choice.”

She didn’t answer Iren this time. In her mind there had been no choice, the life of another was always more important that her own. Iren should know this and would if she truly were a Calerian warrior and yet there she stood, speaking to Ira of choice.

“I’m sorry…” Iren moved over to one of the stone blocks and sat down, “I believe it would have happened whether or not I was here though. You are unique amongst the others and the next step for a Calerian warrior to become stronger.”

She didn’t want to accept that, “I was strong enough before…” In a way it was the truth and lie all at the same time. She was strong, she could defend herself and had done so on many different occasions but she had also been bested and pushed beyond her own limits. She’d even faced an opponent she had no hope of beating, but that didn’t mean she’d back down in a fight against him. She’d fight until there wasn’t strength left within her and then still she’d continue because she willed it so.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira didn’t know what to do in this situation. She felt helpless and annoyed, she felt frustrated and damn tired of everything that was happening beyond her own control. What was the point of having a life if you weren’t in control of what was happening to it?

Sitting down on one of the weathered boulders, Ira looked anywhere but at the other Calerian sitting not too far from her, her eyes eventually resting upon the tent, “I know…I just don’t know.” That sounded confusing even to her and she was the one who’d spoken it.

“I understand.” Iren said as she looked off into the distance, the distance of Ira’s soul. But did she really understand? “Everything around you is changing faster than you can deal with. It’s never easy. I just assumed any Calerian would wish to become a stronger warrior. I think that after all these years I’ve forgotten what it’s like to fight corruption and know that it can kill you in the worst possible way.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “Just what exactly is changing within me?”

Iren turned back towards her and Ira broke her stare on the tent in order to look the woman in the eyes, “The soul is constantly changing and evolving as the person learns and changes. Nothing unnatural is happening within yours, it is simply adapting to what’s going on.” That much she could understand, but that still didn’t answer her question. Instead of pointing that out, she patiently waited through the silence for her to continue. “The forest you came out of is the forest of your life. It will change and grow depending upon your experiences and how you are at that particular moment. It’s vibrant and alive right now but shadowed because of your confusion and sadness. Do you see that castle over there?”

She pointed into the distance and Ira followed her hand and watched as the sand was swallowed by forest once again. Squinting she eventually made out the looming grey shape of what was definitely a castle. It rose like a silent warrior protecting all beneath it.

“That represents you at the very core of your soul. I cannot go in there unless you let me in, but in that area of your soul you can see every past incident that has ever happened to you, even the ones you’ve forgotten. Some Calerians have even seen glimpses of the future. It’s also where you fought off the corruption the last time you were here.

“Over there,” she pointed to the right of the castle where the forest was in shadows and the trees were in a perpetual state of death and decay. Ira hadn’t noticed it before but now she wondered how she could have missed it. In a place with so much life and colour it stuck out like a Calerian in a crowd. “That is where the corruption has settled, in the darkest side of your soul. Everyone has a negative and positive to themselves and through their life they choose which to follow and listen to. Your more prominent is your positive. Now that the corruption is within you, I assume you’ll have to keep a closer reign on your negative emotions so it can’t get a hold of you.”

It was nesting in the darkest part of her soul, festering there like a disease and threatening to spread across the rest of her. She remembered her soul well the last time she had been here and she did not want to go through that again. If controlling her emotions were all it took to keep that thing in line then Ira would have no problem with this. Oddly enough, as she listened to everything Iren said to her, she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from that forest. She got the distinct feeling that it was watching her as well, observing and waiting. There was something in that forest.

“Ira?”

“Hmm?”

Ira felt something touching her arm. Breaking her stare at the woods, she turned and looked back at Iren.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ira said, brushing off the woman’s hand, “I just got the feeling that there’s something in there…”

The older Calerian glanced towards the rotting forest with a grave look on her face, “That’s because there is something in there, Ira. Regret and evil dwell within that forest. Every regret you feel will make it stronger, every evil thing you do will take it one step closer to taking over you. You must always control your negative self now or it would potentially control you in the end.”

And if it took control of her she’d turn into the monster she hated and feared so much.

“So what exactly are the benefits of having this thing within me besides having a much more stable reign on everything I feel?” It was more sarcastic than she meant it to be, but there just seemed to be too many negatives to her for this to seem justified.

“You have to beat it first.”

“What? I already fought it that last time I was here.” She growled the words at her.

“I know, you pushed it back and stopped it from taking over yourself. Now you must fight it again, beat it and take control over it.”

“How am I supposed to control something that is part of my negative self?”

Iren ran her fingers through her long red hair, “To beat it, is to make it submit to you so you can use it as you will. But understand it will be like a caged animal, it will always be looking for a way out.”

“Once I beat it…what then?”

There were so many questions and Ira knew that Iren couldn’t possibly have the answers to all of the, but there was no one else to ask. “I do not know…that much is a mystery even to me. But I know you can do it.” She reached out and touched Ira’s arm again, as if trying to give her strength and comfort in her touch, but she didn’t want it. She just wanted to get this over with so she could return to some semblance of her former life. Shrugging her hand off her, Ira stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go beat that corruption into a bloody pile of mush so I can leave here and forget this ever happened for one night and have some fun. It the festival of the dead after all.

Iren smiled, “I remember the festival of the dead…Seren and I had such fun during those nights, well with all of my friends really.”

“This year, one of my closest friends will have her name added to the valley of the dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Yeah…”

She took a deep breath and put on a brave face to mask the still fresh pain of losing Uri. Turning from Iren, she began heading towards the forest, pausing for a moment as she remembered something, “By the way, Seren is one of my ancestors.” The surprised look on Iren’s face answered another one of Ira’s questions. Iren really had no idea that she was in fact distantly related to Revor and Seren and her. Smiling, she turned back and began heading towards the forest before the woman could say anything, though by the look on her face Ira guessed it would be a few minutes before she found her voice.

[Iriah Caitrak]

It was Purgatory in a small corner of her soul, but here things moved. Where everything in Purgatory was frozen, there was some kind of life in here. She could hear the small steps of creatures scurrying away from her and half of her was surprised nothing had jumped out from the shadows and attacked her. The trees were grey skeletons that reached bony fingers towards her. They scraped against flesh and pulled at cloth in a manner reminiscent of desperate hands clawing at whatever passed them by. Despite the fact that all the other areas of her soul had been filled with bright, blue skies lit by an unseen sun, here there was only darkness and a sky covered in dark grey clouds that threatened rain and the Gods fury. She could only become accustomed to the look of Purgatory so much, even after so long.

After some time, the trees began to thin and the dried leaves and twigs were replaced with dead grass that softened her steps. Before she realized it a tall iron fence that almost blended in perfectly with the surroundings came into view. Approaching it, Ira wrapped her fingers around the bars as she stared at the dozens of carved stones lining the hard dirt and grass. They sprouted from the ground like the plants around them, but Ira recognized them for what they were. Grave markers. Upon them the names of those who had fallen would be carved into their surface like a smaller version of the valley of the dead.

Walking around the perimeter, the Calerian eventually found the gate, which easily swung open at her touch. Most of the grave markers were unadorned, just blank pieces of stone that rose from the ground. Only two were decorated, one of them having a beautiful but sad looking winged human looking down upon the name of her mother. The other one sported Uri’s name and on the dried grass before it was the spear and sword she always used. These were the names of the only two people Ira had lost in her life that she’d truly loved.

Amongst the small grave markers were crypts. The larger stone structures were centred on the middle area. They were plain, like everything else in here. Their grey stone marred with cracks and chips and a few even had some kind of plant growing on them that looked like moss to her. Every door she tried to open wouldn’t budge and on some of them right above the entrance she could see the faint lines of something carved into the surface, but it was too faded to make out. Only one amongst the many she hadn’t bothered counting stood out. It had a symbol etched into the door that looked like a strange pair of wings to her and above the entrance the name Abhrapatha, Demon of the Sky. Grabbing the handle of the door, Ira was actually surprised when it was easily pulled open. Stepping into the space, Ira tried to use the light coming in to see something, anything, but there was just darkness. Turning to go, the door slammed shut in her face, leaving her in darkness so complete she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

Reaching for the door she knew had been there, Ira hit nothing but air. Taking a few tentative steps forward with her hands outreached, she still hit nothing. Turning around, she tried to make out anything in the darkness but it was futile. Her other senses were on alert and they were telling she was not alone. She couldn’t hear any breathing or sense any souls but something within her just knew there was something in here with her. The smell of rot was beginning to cloud the air as well and choke Ira’s lungs. A light flooded the central area of the crypt. It revealed a small stone altar with nothing on the top of its smooth surface. It also revealed some of the room to her and Ira realized it was much bigger than she had originally thought. In fact, she couldn’t see the end of it. The pitiful light revealed the altar, the area around it, including the hard, dirt ground and then left the rest in darkness. But that wasn’t what her eyes were focused on. The creature standing behind the altar was.

It had it’s back to her and though large, black leathery wings covered most of it, Ira could clearly tell it was human in form. It’s skin was grey and sickly looking, like that of a rotting corpse, it’s long white hair flowed down it’s back, concealing armour that Ira could just barely make out. When it turned around the first thing Ira noticed were it’s crimson eyes set in a cold face marred only by black designs that had no meaning to her. The creature’s entire chest and stomach were covered in dull metallic armour as well as her legs and one of her forearms and Ira was sure it was supposed to be female. The creature’s other arm was left without armour and where a normal hand should have been it was replaced with a much larger and clawed looking monstrosity.

Ira took one wild guess and assumed this was Abhrapatha and the corruption she had to fight. Confirming this thought, the corruption before her leapt towards Ira at an amazing speed. She’d had barely a second to even notice the change in her posture and the way her legs tensed and her knees bent, but seeing that along and years of training gave the Calerian the ability to react. The first attack was always just a test to gauge the ability of the fighter and Abhrapatha and was doing just that to Ira. As her clawed hand came in to disembowel Ira, she jumped to the side, the claws slicing through the flowing material of her shirt instead. But she didn’t stop there, she followed through with another attack. Her arm changing direction and her claws coming in a sweeping motion towards Ira’s side. She’d predicted a second move though and her one Half Swallow was already forming in her hand, the blade deflecting the creature’s hand away from her inches before it ever touched skin.

Forming her other Half Swallow in her other hand, the Calerian thrust the weapon towards Abhrapatha’s exposed side, but the blade bounced off the armour without leaving a dent or scratch.

Ira was really beginning to hate armour.

The fingers of the creature’s more human hand wrapped around the shaft of Ira’s Half Swallow and tugged sharply on the weapon, pulling her forward. Never expecting such a move, Ira stumbled towards her opponent, right into the backhanded swing that connected with the side of her head. Pain exploded across her cheek and jaw, making her release her weapon and take a few steps backwards. The creature spun Ira’s weapon around in her hand and thrust the blade towards Ira’s stomach, but it disappeared from her hands long before it ever touched her. The energy is took to form Calerian weapons dissipated if it wasn’t handled by living hands for more than five seconds.

Using the moment of surprise to her advantage, the Calerian kicked the creature in the centre of its stomach. The metallic of the platting on her boots and Abhrapatha’s armour rang throughout the intense silence settling in the room, broken only by their increasingly steady breathing and heavy steps. Though the attack did no damage, it still knocked her off balance. As she attempted to recover, Ira shifted her stance and brought her foot back up for a higher kick. The metal platting on the top of her boot connected with the side of the creature’s face and sent her falling onto her back, clutching at her cheek. Ira too herself lost her balance and ended up on her hands and knees, but she didn’t let that stop her from following through with her attack. Forming a small throwing dagger in her free hand—one that glowed a light blue colour—she sent it sailing through the air towards Abhrapatha.

[Iriah Caitrak]

She tried to deflect the blade. Her arms rose and crossed in front of her chest to protect herself from the attack, but it brought no worry to Ira’s face. In fact, just as the glowing blue dagger passing through the creature’s armour unhindered, a small smirk formed at the corners of her lips. The enchantment attacked the soul, not the physical body, so it passed right through her armguards and her chest plate to the areas she was trying to protect beneath. Though she couldn’t see it anymore, out the other side of her body the dagger would go until the energy dispersed and the object was no more. Abhrapatha let out a horrendous scream that pierced Ira’s eardrums as the pain of the attack went through her. It forced Ira to cover her ears with her hands and even after it had ended she could still hear and feel the ringing within her skull. Dropping her hands from the side of her head, Ira looked up only to see that the corruption was gone. Scrambling to her feet as quickly as she could, the Calerian searched the desolate area but there was nothing. Only the hard packed dirt and that damn altar.

Had she won? Was that all it took to beat such a fearsome thing as corruption, a simple dagger? No, it couldn’t be. Part of her wished it was so and that all of this was finally over, but that was just too easy. One blade through the chest could not possibly defeat such a creature and she didn’t feel any different. Not to mention the door she had come through had yet to reappear. If this was truly it, how was she supposed to get out of here?

Taking a deep and calming breath that did nothing to ease the suddenly quickened beats of her heart, Ira continued to watch the darkness. There was only one source of light in the room, the altar and everything else was left in pitch black and she knew Abhrapatha had to hiding in there, waiting. But she couldn’t see her, she couldn’t even sense her. It was nerve wrecking that she could come from anywhere. Taking a few steps towards the altar, the Calerian was suddenly sent flying through the air by a powerful kick to her back. Her shoulder and the side of her head slammed against the corner of the altar. Pain exploded across her skull a second before everything went black.

Seconds ticked away feeling like minutes and her eyes slowly cracked open. A blurred version of the reality before her was perceived and her muffled mind had a hard time comprehending why she was in so much pain, but then she remembered. Ignoring the pain throbbing across the side of her head and in her shoulder, Ira attempted to move but the moment she did nausea reared it’s ugly face and the bile rose in the back of her throat. Gagging, she quickly tried to swallow it, but it rose again, the taste and the burn filling her mouth. Turning her head to the side she spit it out wishing the disgusting aftertaste would leave with it. She could feel something trickling down the side of her head and face and not wishing to check, Ira already knew it was blood. Trying to move again, Ira fought back the nausea and the pain and somehow managed to get onto her hands and knees before something wrapped itself around her neck and hoisted her off the ground.

Feet dangling in the air, she looked out at the blurred visage of Abhrapatha. Her fingers were wrapped around her neck just tight enough to restrict her air but still allow her to breathe that tiny bit to keep her alive. Grabbing at the creature’s hand, Ira tried to pry the fingers away from her neck, but her grip was like steel and all she ended up doing was clawing into her own flesh. She kicked out with feet that couldn’t quite reach the creature or build up enough momentum to do any kind of damage. She watched as a sick and twisted smile spread across Abhrapatha’s lips and her fingers tightened around Ira’s neck for a second or two, cutting off her air. The creature loosened its hold just enough to allowed Ira to breathe once again as she brought up her other hand. Her armguard suddenly changed and the metal began to form over the top of her hand into a long spike that had one very sharp end directed towards the Calerian. And if that wasn’t bad enough, electricity began to flow through the weapon. The sound of the sizzle crack was all too familiar to Ira as had seen Storm use such a thing.

Feeling the panic beginning to rise, Ira formed a short sword in her right hand and with as much force as she could muster she brought it down on Abhrapatha’s arm. The blade cut through the area of flesh right by her elbow where there was no armour. It sliced through skin and muscle until it hit bone and then it embedded itself part way through and Ira released the blade. The creatures in turn released her and Ira fell to her knees. Her hands rubbing at her sore neck as she took in deep breath after deep breath, almost choking on the large quantities she tried to take in as once. Pushing herself up onto legs that quivered and couldn’t quite seem to hold her weight but wouldn’t give out either, the Calerian watched as the corruption ripped the blade from her arm. It disappeared in her hand though, just like the last one.

Changing her stance and making it appear like she was much more stable and ready to fight than she really was; Ira formed her Half Swallows in her hands. The corruption growled something completely inhuman and formed two short swords in her hands before she charged at Ira, her feet coming off the ground as her wings propelled her forward. With weapons drawn the two of them began a dangerous dance that was to leave one at the mercy of the other and Ira knew it would not be her. There was no defeat for her, it was all or nothing and the nothing just did not sit that well with her.

The sound of metal clashing against metal and heavy breathing rang throughout the otherwise silent room as the two of them battle. Blades sliced through the air but rarely through flesh. Attacks were parried, blocked and countered and neither of them showed sighs of slowing down but Ira knew she couldn’t keep them up forever. The façade of her face showed no sign of weakness but she was going to grow tired soon if this dance continued.

Taking a chance, the Calerian let in one of Abhrapatha’s attacks. She saw it coming but instead of blocking the attack like she knew she could, she pretended to try and move out of the way. It worked; the blade hit across the ribs, slicing through flesh but was stopped by bone before it could do any kind of serious damage. It still hurt like Hell though and the pain on her face was definitely not faked. Pushing passed it, she kicked out at Abhrapatha’s unguarded knee and watched as her foot connected and the creature fell before her. Not giving her a chance to recover, Ira thrust the blade of her Half Swallow through her throat and out the back of her neck.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Shock, disbelief and anger. Those were the emotions that flickered through crimson eyes and across a deathly pale and grey pale. There was no regret over what she’d done surfacing within her though. Nothing showed on her face, not even a flicker of emotion. Just the cold battle expression she usually wore when dealing with corruption. She’d done what she’d had to and no Calerian would ever feel remorse in destroying corruption, even if it looked human. Because in the end it wasn’t human, it didn’t feel like humans did, act as them or even bleed as them. Oh, Abhrapatha bled, but not red. Instead, a thick black liquid started oozing down the blade and shaft, smelling of rot and death and choking Ira with its stench. This was what the creature was beginning to choke on, its own blood. It was filling her throat and every time she tried to breathe it sounded wet, like she was drowning. She coughed and gurgled like she was trying to clear the passage for air but she couldn’t. It was hard to listen to, hard to watch, but she didn’t turn away. Even as the blood around the wound bubbled with the escaping air, she didn’t turn away.

Her strength failed the creature and she fell to her knees. Ripping the blade from her neck, a sick, squishing and sucking sound, the Calerian watched as the last bit of life left Abhrapatha’s eyes. They glossed over, became vacant and cold and her breathing stopped. Without Ira’s strength helping to support her, she fell to her side and Ira stepped away as her body began to quickly decay. Skin withered and rotted revealing the tissue and bone underneath until that too eventually turned to nothing more than dust blown away by an unseen wind.

At the same time she disappeared, the crypt around Ira began to change. Gone were the darkness and dirt floor, replaced by stone that made the room appear much smaller, the size it should be. The light from the altar illuminated the entire room now and revealed the carvings on the walls, all of them depicting Abhrapatha fighting and killing and what Ira could only guess as her using her abilities and magic. Magic that may now be at her disposal. The stone altar too began to change, the pedestal no longer empty as a much smaller statue of Abhrapatha began to manifest itself on the top. As the statue formed, the Irenian crystal hanging around Ira’s neck began to change. The bright blue was replaced with black and the centre of the crystal began to look like a roiling storm of clouds and electricity. That was when the pain started. Like an ice-cold knife it buried itself in her heart and slowly began to spread throughout her chest.

Falling to her knees, Ira clasped one hand to her chest, right where her fluttering heart was as the pain continued to grow without sign of going away. Falling to her side, the pain became so bad she found her could barely think around it and she couldn’t seem to breathe. She knew she had to, but no matter how much she tried she couldn’t breathe in.

Then there was someone behind her.

“Ira? Ira you have to breathe!”

It was Iren. She couldn’t see her but she could feel her hands on her arm and back. She wanted to tell her she was trying to, but it hurt so much.

“Relax…just relax and breathe, please! Ira!”

Her lungs were screaming for air and it felt like every muscle in her body was taunt with tension and ready to snap. Just breathe, just breathe, that all she had to do, but she couldn’t. Why could she just draw in air? Why? It was such a simple thing!

The grey stone around her began to fade and blur into the darkness as the Calerian felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. It seemed to be happening so slowly and there was nothing she could do about it. The last thing echoing in her mind was Iren’s voice as she screamed her name.

~~~~~~~

Ira woke up gasping for air. Every muscle in her body felt like it was shaking and even as she felt the urgency to move, to do something, anything, strong arms wrapped around her chest from behind and held her tightly. As her head cleared and the panic slowly subsided, she realized she was laying down in someone lap. Not only that but she was back in her own home. No longer was she within her soul, no longer did she have to deal with the corruption. It was over. She had won. Never before had the plain beige ceiling of her home looked so appealing to her. Even the candles that still burned around her were a welcome sight to her eyes, though they were over half melted and a few of them had made a wax mess on her floor, she didn’t care. Not right now anyway. Maybe when she had to clean it up, but even then she might be thankful for such a trivial thing.

Taking another few minutes to calm the erratic beats of her heart and relax, the Calerian took comfort in whoever was holding her. But it didn’t take her long to start questioning just who was so benevolently caring for her without saying a word or even announcing their presence, especially since she’d closed her door. No one should come into her home uninvited.

Wiggling around, her watched as the arms reluctantly released her and Ira slowly pulled herself into a sitting position. Looking behind her, her swirling silver eyes clashed with bright blue ones set on a handsome and angular face that looked at her with more worry than she’d ever seen upon it.

“R-Revor!”

Not entirely caring if he found it inappropriate, Ira launched herself at her, wrapping her arms around his middle as she rested her head against his chest and just held on tightly. If it had been anyone else she may have done the same thing, she may not have. She was too happy to see a familiar face, even if it belonged to her rival to care about her actions.

“I should go away more often if I get treatment like this once I come back.”

Suddenly feeling a swell of embarrassment, Ira pulled away from him.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded her head without speaking but her face must have said otherwise for he didn’t look at all that convinced.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you… but what are you doing in my home?” She asked him.

He looked away from her a little sheepishly before he answered, “I just got back a few hours ago and went to check in with Gereint. After telling him what happened on my missions, I asked him about you and he told me to come see you here, he said you’d be needing someone…”

“Oh…” Did Gereint know everything she’d just done and gone through? Even a better question, why was Revor asking Gereint about her? “How long have you been here?”

“For about two hours I suppose…”

He’d been watching her for that long?

“Thanks…”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his short, dark blue hair, “No problem. C’mon, let’s go outside for some fresh air. The sun will be setting soon and the festivities will be getting underway.”

Smiling, Ira nodded her head and got to her feet. She still felt a little unstable and light headed, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she went around and blew out each of the candles before following Revor outside.

[Iriah Caitrak]

It was close to dawn. The sky was filled with that milky greyness as it sat in limbo, suspended in the moment before the sun broke the horizon and night truly came to an end. Most of the tribe and the countless visitors to this sandy paradise were asleep or about to be rather shortly. The Festival of the Dead only took place at night, once the sun threatened the horizon everything was quickly wrapped up and many people went off to bed while a small part of the tribe was just waking up to keep everything running during the day. She should be with the majority as well, snuggled under layers of silk sheets that cooled her skin. But she wasn’t tired. Even though that had been her excuse to leave the others she really wasn’t. The festivities had been enjoyable for a time. She’d talked, danced, drank and even laughed as if the weight of everything were finally and truly off her shoulders. But towards the end, thoughts of Abhrapatha had slipped into her mind and destroyed the brief moments of bliss where problems were forgotten. And that was how she found herself sitting upon a rock cooled by the night and watching the sun linger on the edge of the horizon then finally break across the sand, bathing everything in gold.

It blinded her for that brief moment, a ball of fire scorching across the desert and all who strode within in. but this was her land and she was used to it. Her eyes adjusted and she enjoyed the warm feeling as the light caressed her skin. She smiled as she remembered the night she’d just had and shared with her friends. It hadn’t taken Denebriel long to make an appearance, as well as Messia and Lyra. The five of them had had quite the celebration for not only the festival but also because Revor had returned from his missions, safe and unharmed. Though Revor himself did not exactly agree with her choice of companions as she kept catching him glaring towards Denebriel from the corner of her eyes. He had merely brushed them aside though, as if he’d never even noticed them, which seemed to anger Revor even more. And that made Ira burst out into laughter. She honestly had no idea why he didn’t like Denebriel; the man was a complete gentleman. Messia and Lyra liked him; in fact she wouldn’t be surprised if one of her friends had tried to bring him home with them. She didn’t mind. He was only a friend and she was sure he looked at her in the same way.

Now the festivities were over and she was on her own. It was a twenty-minute walk back to the outskirts of the village from here and she was certain no one would be around to see her do…what she was about to do. Truly she had no idea of the abilities that Abhrapatha gave her but that was the whole point of this, to find out. She just didn’t want there to be anyone around when that happened. The tribe already looked at her differently knowing she had been fully corrupted twice and lived to tell about it. That was just not normal, by all accounts she should have turned into a monster and someone should have killed her. Not that Ira was complaining she was still alive, but that’s just how it was supposed to be when it came to corruption. Why she had to be the different one, she didn’t know.

Taking a deep breath, Ira closed her eyes. She had no idea what she was doing. Iren had said that beating the corruption would make it submit to her and thus be under her control. That was all well and good, but now that it was under her control how exactly did she use it, or even call it forth? She guessed the only way to find out was try and see what worked. So Ira did the only thing she could think of. She called forth the corruption from deep within herself. She cleared her mind first and then she opened her soul and roused the sleeping corruption from within. The moment it began to crawl into the opening she had made she could feel it. There was no pain for once, but instead it was a coldness, a chill reminding her of what it was. A force not to be played with, one that could destroy her if she wasn’t careful.

It nudged and poked and prodded to see how far she would let it out, but it never attacked her. She owned it now, it was merely testing the boundaries of that and it could all it wanted to for she planned on keeping it on a tight leash. The corruption would only go as far as she let it. But then she felt it trying to do… something. She wasn’t quite sure what, definitely not take over her but almost like it wanted to combine with her. She didn’t allow it, confused, a little scared and unsure of what it was attempting, she stopped it. But it was insistent and did not fight against her confinement. Perhaps allowing the corruption to do this was where her new strengths and abilities would come from.

Taking another one of those deep and fortifying breaths, Ira stopped hampering it. She felt it tentatively try again and when it encountered no resistance it rushed through in a sense that she could only describe as fusing with her own soul. Energy exploded from the merging of the two of them, radiating in a visible and blinding white light from her Irenian crystal. When it faded and the energy stopped emanating from her soul and continued instead as a steady pulse she opened her eyes and found her breath caught in her throat. Her vision was clearer and sharper than it had ever been. Every colour was more vibrant, every grain of sand had more detail and she could see so much farther. It was incredible. Even her hearing had improved and not only could she sense souls but she could feel life around her and focus on it too. There was a herd of Giaz about fifty paces away from her totalling around twenty of the majestic beasts. She could sense sand scorpions and other small creatures as well as what she thought to be Arta patiently lying in wait beneath the sand. Arta had no life, but she could still feel their energy.

“Amazing…”

Her voice didn’t sound the same. It was missing the Fallien accent she was so used to and instead sounded like a completely different person.

Looking down, Ira realized she was a completely different person. No longer did she sit upon the rock watching the sunrise, instead it was the figure of Abhrapatha, the corruption that she had battled that sat there. But it wasn’t Abhrapatha, it was her. She had her own thoughts but new memories and knowledge as well. She knew that if she moved specific muscles in her back she hadn’t possessed before the wings attached there would move and to test this out Ira actually did it and she felt muscles pull and stretched that never had until that moment. It was familiar, but new and strange all at the same time. It was like she was Ira, but also Abhrapatha in this form.

Standing up, Ira looked towards the sky as she bit down on her lower lip. She’d always wondered what it would be like to fly as the birds did. To feel that kind of freedom. Spreading her wings, she tentatively began to move them, testing to see how they worked even though she already knew. Moving her wings faster, the Calerian jumped off the edge of the rock she was sitting on and despite half of her saying she’d just land on the sand a few feet below her, she didn’t. Instead she found herself hovering above the sandy surface. Laughing, she took off towards a sky set aflame by the rising sun.


((SPOILS: This spoil ties into the spoils from the previous quest, El Festival De Muerte. Do not worry too much about approving the spoil, it's rather large and will make more sense when I update my profile for there will be some limitations to it.

Abhrapatha: A demon of the sky. She is a form of condensed corruption given personally, thought and feelings. She values freedom above almost everything else and has a carefree spirit but no moral standing. She kills without thought or reason and does not care whom she kills as long as it is satisfying. Entire villages have fallen to her. The mark of Abhrapatha now lies on Ira’s physical appearance. Across her shoulder blades is a symbol that looks like an abstract form of wings. This mark is pure white in colour and stands out drastically against Ira’s tanned skin.

Physical Appearance: Abhrapatha is of a athletic form, tall and well built, but her muscles are more compact giving her a somewhat slender appearance and thus making people think she’s really weaker than she it. Her skin is a deathly grey colour that human corpses often attain after many days of lying around unexposed. Her hair is short, around the same few inches in length as Ira’s is and it a pure white colour and her eyes are a bright crimson. Armour covers many areas of her body, including her torso, shins, her left upper arm and her right forearm. Though the armour is beautiful and ornate, with what looks like feathers carved into it’s surface, it is dull and worn looking. Underneath her armour she wears a simple light purple dress of sorts that’s slit all the way up her thighs to allow for easy movement. She also does not wear anything on her feet, preferring to be barefoot.

Though her right hand and arm are normal looking, Abhrapatha’s left hand is larger than her right and is more of a monstrous claw than an actual hand. The fingers look gnarled and broken, though they are perfectly capable of functioning and on the end of each one is a long and very sharp looking claw. Large feathered wings adorn her back, fully stretched out they have a span of around 7 feet. Towards the centre of them the feathers are light blue, then they become light purple and finally as they fan out the majority of the wings are a silver colour.

Abilities

Senses: Abhrapatha has very sharp senses. Her eyes sight is two times better than that of a human, allowing her see things much clearer and sharper as well as see farther. Her hearing is more sensitive and she feels things more acutely than a normal human, which is also a downside as pain is felt twice as much as well. As well as having heightened senses, she also has the ability to feel the energy of living creatures, or even undead creatures as long as they possess it. This allows her to feel for enemies that do not possess souls.

Speed: Her speed is 1.5 times that of a normal human an when she’s using her wings she can increase it to be 2 times that of a human’s normal speed. She can only increase her speed for short bursts and using it a few times in a row can quickly tire her out.

Strength: Though she has a slim look to her, Abhrapatha has twice the amount of strength as human, allowing her to easily lift up to 200 lbs and struggle up to 230 lbs.

Skills

Melee Combat: Abhrapatha prefers to use her hands and feet in combat more so than any kind of weapon, especially her one hand in itself is a weapon. She is quick with successive punches and kicks and her wings give her an added ability to use her feet without losing her balance. She has advanced skills in art of hand-to-hand combat.

Magic

Lightning: By exciting the ions in the air around her hands, Abhrapatha can create bursts of electricity that she can send streaming towards her enemies. These electrical bursts can cause great pain in the person they hit and also interfere with their muscles movements, sending incorrect electrical pulses down their nervous system. Instead of sending the energy bursting towards her enemy, she can also charge and hold it around her fists, giving the person a ‘shocking’ touch every time one of her blows connect. This does not have as strong an effect as the electrical burst and neither have the strength to kill. This will do twice the amount of damage if the person happens to be standing in water though.

Wind: Calling the wind to her aid, the sky demon can form blades of wind that vary from four inches to one foot. The bigger they are the less she form leaving her with two at a length of one foot and up to five at four inches. Though they look rather harmless, the blades of wind are as sharp as any finely crafted sword and can easily cut through flesh and cloth. They do however disperse upon impact with most armour.

Darkness: Imbuing the claws of her left hand with darkness, Abhrapatha will attempt to sink her claws into the flesh of her opponent. When that happens, the darkness will pour forth and into the person’s system attack them from within. It asks similar to a poison, making the person feel rather sickly, sluggish and muddled in the head. To a creature of light, this attack can be particularly painful and the effects will overcome them much quicker. At this point in time, the darkness is only strong enough to force an eventual unconscious state though how long the person remains conscious is depended upon them and their strength of will. ))

[Letho]

General Notes: First off, halfway through typing of this judgment, there was a series of power outages that ate half of my judgment. So this might not be as elaborate as usual. Also, I’ll use this as an opportunity to mention your spoils. I won’t limit it or edit it or anything, as per your request, but I feel inclined to advise the RoG mod to thread very carefully when it comes to approving it. You are still technically level 1, regardless of what the number says, so I would advise you to severely limit the spoil. Not only does it make Ira substantially stronger and faster, it also adds flying and magic to her repertoire. A bit too much for a level 2-3 character. So yeah, do try to be fair or else I'm going to get you. :cool: Now that that is out of the picture, let us get on the good stuff.


CONTINUITY – 8

I was disappointed here, but not in a way I expected to be. I was disappointed that I read through the prequel when there was almost no need for me to do so. Despite the fact that this story continues basically where the prequel left us, you managed to present it well enough for an unfamiliar reader to find it interesting. I thought I would be docking points for you leaving the past occurrences blurry, but I wound up noticing that there would be no need for it.

SETTING – 6

Strong at times, disappearing in others. I understand that you did a whole lot of describing in the prequel, especially when it comes to the festival, but people who aren’t introduced with the setting from the previous story are left practically with nothing in the beginning of your quest. Once you moved on to the Valley of the Dead and eventually to Ira’s soul, things were better, in the latter case much better. Just try to find the balance and make sure you always present the place your character is in to the reader.

PACING – 6

This might’ve been done better. There was a lot of talking, a lot of pondering and then wham!, a battle from out of nowhere. And once it began, I think you used a bit too much foreshadowing because there was very little doubt and suspense when it came to it. I think there was this one sentence that described it perfectly and it said something like: “Ira knew she was going to win.”. And then they fought some more and she did. After that, the story winded down the way it should, but the climax was a tad bland, as if you lost your inspiration when it came to that battle.

DIALOGUE – 9

Very strong, very good, very realistic. It’s been a while since I had so few objections in the dialogue section, but then again, it is one of your strongest aspects. Everything that was said made sense and fitted the character. Well, almost everything. The part where Ira says Iren she’s going to kick ass and chew bubble gum didn’t seem appropriate. It robbed you of a perfect 10.

ACTION – 7

Let me put it this way: actions were okay, but action was not so okay. By action I mean the actual action between Ira and that demon whose complicated name I don’t feel like copy/pasting. There was very little inventiveness there, and seeing that it was the crucial moment of the story, it made me feel like you couldn’t quite come up with the right idea for the fight. Other then that, everything seemed to be in order.

PERSONA – 7

This was a thread about Ira, plain and simple, and it showed. There is nothing wrong with that. However, there were times when Ira seemed a bit flat, and I’m not talking about her cup size. From the moment she left Iren and went to fight the corruption, there was very little of Ira and much more actions. I would expect her to feel something when she got locked in a tomb in the middle of a graveyard. I’m not saying you should stop and have a personal epiphany in every post (which you most definitely shouldn’t do), but there should be some kind of a reaction. Also, what happened to poor Denebriel?! It seems to me that you put him in to advance the story more easily, but then, after the visit to Ira’s soul, he got approximately two sentences. Poor guy. At least he maybe scored with Messia or Lyra. ;)

MECHANICS – 7

Strange, that’s the best way I can explain it. At the beginning, you were almost sloppy, with typos jumping out here and there, but then, as the quest moved on, you got better and there were fewer mistakes. And then, near the end, they started occurring again. I think I found three mistakes in three consecutive sentences near the end. However, they are sporadic and the aforementioned situation was unique, probably just temporary lapses when your concentration just gave in. Just be more watchful of words dropping out, or incorrect words, or just mistaking its with it’s.

TECHNIQUE – 6

One thing kept jumping at me like a goddamn hyperactive terrier. Fragments. They can be used to emphasize something important, but you have a tendency of either overusing them or misusing them. Remember that fragments too have to make sense. I’ll give you one example, first one that appeared in the very first paragraph.
“It was her first coherent thought in the cacophony of memories she had been sifting through, reliving as it were. Images playing over and over again in her mind so much so that they started to overlap, blur together and become as one. A confusing array of senses overriding the one before it.” Sure, if you separated all of those with a comma, you’d get one hugeass run-on sentence, but you don’t need to fragment it either. Just make an entirely new sentence for what you’re trying to say.
“It was her first coherent thought in the cacophony of memories she had been sifting through, reliving as it were. Images played over and over again in her mind so much so that they started to overlap, blur together and become as one, with a confusing array of senses overriding the one before it. Sounds better when put that way, doesn’t it?

CLARITY – 7

Not too shabby, but not impeccable either. If you fix what I mentioned in the Mechanics and Technique section, it will be even better. This way, it tends to confuse the reader a little bit.

WILD CARD – 7

If Ira and Messia made out a little bit, it would’ve been a ten, but once again, it might be just personal preference. ;)




TOTAL SCORE – 70


Congratulations!!!



SPOILS:
Ira Shinkara gets 1905 EXP and 200 GP
Spoil is approved, with a caution mark for the RoG mods.


EXP/GP added!