Six Days

[JadeStorm]

Solo
Six Days
Eremophobia

Sun Zu Shang (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69977&postcount=1)
Aiden Darkstorm (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69393&postcount=1)


"Eremophobia-

The Fear of being oneself,
Or the fear of being alone.”

She sat beneath the starless night sky, bruised clouds alluding to the rainfall that was to come, sooner or later. The air was thick, humid. Suffocating warmth pressed against her from all sides as she gazed up at the broiling vista that stretched away to the tree line further down the hill. That distant copse had been her goal for the night, but now seemed unreachable, as it faded away into the horizon.

Blood soiled the grass at her side, and her ribs ached with a dull throbbing pain that spoke of her condition even through the numb tingling that had been spreading out across her paling flesh. She had tried to ignore the growing feeling of weakness and forget the worry that gnawed now at her from the dark corners of her repressed consciousness. She had fought back her fears, had determined that she would stay alive despite the ghastly wound that left scarlet rivulets snaking down her smooth side. The strap of torn cloth she had tied around herself seemed to be loosening, but she knew better than to untying it as a precursor to attempting to retie it. She tried to deny it, even to herself, but she could hardly move her left arm now. It hung limp and useless at her side, palm pointing toward the sky as it lay on the ground. She couldn’t feel the grass that certainly rubbed against the back of her hand. The faint bluish cast to the skin of her arm worried her immensely, and caused her eyebrows to draw down in a apprehensive scowl.

Blood trickled slowly from the wound at her side, and she could see a glint of white beyond the turned up jags of torn flesh. The daunting injury didn’t scare her as it would have so many months ago. She had been inured to the fear of physical anguish. Blood had become an old friend, mischievous, returning to greet her when she least expected it. Fear? Why fear an inevitable? All it did was waste energy. Energy she needed to stave off the pain and regret that had continually assailed her these last hours.

A gust of wind blew from behind her, sweeping her jaw length reddish pink hair forward. The grassy plain that sloped down and away in front of her swelled and shimmered with the wind-directed movement, and the distant trees fluttered in tandem. The breeze faded, failed. Stillness rushed to fill the gap, and in that empty silence, Sun could feel a foreboding that made her cringe in anxiety.

She still wasn’t sure how she had lived. She was experienced enough to know that the arrow that had penetrated her ribs had been a man-killer. The arrowhead had been cast from rigid crystal, strong enough to cut skin, but too weak to withstand contact with her the bones of her ribs. Such an arrow was commonly called a Shatterhead. She had used them before. But when she used them, her target went down and stayed down. How she had survived the crystalline fragments bursting in her ribs, she couldn’t fathom. The archer that had put the arrow in her knew what he had been doing; the shot had been precise beyond imagining. She hadn’t even known there was another life form near, before the arrow had found its way into her.

Overhead, the clouds began to release their burden. It started slowly, sounding of paper rubbing together softly. The first drops to hit Sun’s skin made her gasp in surprise. Occupied as she was with her fearful thoughts, she had not anticipated the touch of those cold droplets. After the initial shock had faded, she turned her jaw up, exposing her pale face to the calming, cleansing rain. Without warning, the pain of the wound in her side flared up. Her tears of agony were quickly washed away amid the rivulets of rain.

The soft pattering of the raindrops hitting her jadeite armor kept her lucid, if only slightly. The fog of pain tried to lure her into a sleep that she desperately needed, but she refused its alluring supplication. What need had she of sleep? The dead had all the sleep they could ever need. She could sleep when she was dead. She had no intention of dying yet.

Her memory had begun to cloud, but she remembered the village her trek had started at. It wasn’t far now, and if she could make it there, she would be safe, and would be able to seek Sister Alise’s help. She wasn’t sure if the woman would be able to heal so severe a wound, but if she made it back at all, she could at least die in comfort if she couldn’t be healed.

Gritting her teeth, Sun Zu Shang leaned to her right side, and used her good arm to push herself to her feet. Slightly disheartened by the way her left arm hung limp and swayed lightly as she regained her footing, the Ranger looked off down the slope awaiting her. It would have been tricky to navigate without falling. Now, with the rain turning dirt to slippery mud, it would be a death trap. In response to her own unspoken question, she shook her head. Her hair fanned, spraying a few droplets from the soaked chestnut locks. She couldn’t afford to wait. Every second she squandered now was a dance with death, and with every passing second, her steps grew more clumsy. Weighed against the ever-graceful movements of Death, she couldn’t hope to out dance him. Her only hope now was to outrun him.

She started down the slope.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, as she carefully picked her way down the declivity. Several times already she’d had to frantically snatch out at nearby rocks or shrubs in an attempt to stabilize herself after her boot had turned up a patch of grass, only to find a perilously slick track of mud beneath. With her left arm all but dead, it was a mix of extreme effort and pure luck that kept her from losing her balance and tumbling away down the muddy hill.

A glimpse of white beside her tore her eyes away from the ground under her hands and feet. For several moments, all Sun could do was blink in astonishment. The sky lit with a sharp jag of lightning, and thunder rumbled through the sloped clearing, rumbled in her chest and ribs. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, despite the unquestionable reality. The young girl that stood beside her couldn’t have been an illusion; she was far too real to have been imagined.

Although she only would have stood as high as Sun’s waist on solid ground, she was on a level that left her eye to eye with the Ranger. The young girls icy, sapphire eyes locked Sun’s rich bistre gaze. It was an electrifying connection, holding her like a prison. In her peripheral vision, she took in all of the details of this little girl. A pure white dress covered her slim, short body. Unadorned by useless ornaments, and unsullied by the rain that continually lashed down on Sun, the dress was certainly the most elegant garment she had ever seen, and made the Ranger feel ungainly in her masterfully crafted jadeite armor. Blonde hair ran down the girls neck and shoulders, twisting around itself in enviable, curly locks, and framed her soft, delicate face. Even so young, the girl couldn’t be described with any word short of beautiful. Silhouetted by the forking lightning, and the barely visible streaks of pouring rain, the girl exuded an air of confidence and compassion that seemed so bizarre it was nearly alien.

“You’re hurt, Sun.” The girl said, her tiny voice filled with concern. “Come with me.”

Instinctively, reflexively, Sun took a step backwards.

Confusion.

The landscape spun, the ground throttled her, smashing into her from all sides as she descended. Her wound flared in agony, and her vision blotted out in a black flash.

[DarkStorm]

"Come Aiden... I want to play a game with you." The voice at once held a joyous purity, and a depression darker than midnight. It sounded old, unbelievably old. It sounded older than the oldest tree, yet stronger than the toughest mountain. That was perhaps what made the Fell Human shiver when his eyes finally adjusted to the intense white light all around him.

The voice had come from the boy that stood in front of him. Garbed in a simple, elegant white robe with golden scrollwork tracing from the unused hood all the way to the hem, the boy was delicate and graceful. Short blonde hair barely grazed the top of his perfectly proportioned ears, and steely gray eyes watched Aiden carefully. Though they were the exact same coloration as Ishadin’s eyes, they conveyed a completely different meaning. Those orbs were a window into a soul far too vast and full of vicissitudes for him to ever understand.

Slightly unbalanced, Aiden looked around, as much to take his eyes away from the child as to get a grip on his surroundings. What he found left him reeling, and uncertain. As far as he could see, there was nothing but shivering white light. It surrounded him, and permeated the air. It was like liquefied light, shimmering and rippling as it stood still. Trying to ignore the vertigo inspired by the sight, he turned back to the child- a certainty among the unknown.

"How did I get here? Where is Alaina? ... oh." Aiden fell silent. The last thing he remembered was Ishadin's sword.

"I'm dead?" The revelation was like a thunderbolt, caught in the chest. What about Alaina? Fate and Chance? Who would take care of them now?

"Yes. And no." The boy stepped closer, and looked up into Aiden's eyes. The Fell Human could feel the child's hot breath on his chest. It felt highly inappropriate to the man. Had it been Chance, or Fate, he wouldn't have thought about it once, let alone twice, but he didn't know this boy. "It is complicated. You are not dead in the way that your kind comprehends it, but your physical body has been killed."

Stepping back, the boy smiled cheerfully.

"It has been a long time since I have been able to stand face to face with one of my creations." The boy's hand rose, and the back of his fingers caressed Aiden's whiskered cheek. When the Fell Human frowned, the boy laughed. Turning, he walked away, his white and gold robes swishing about his feet.

"I am Irdaet." Coming to a halt roughly two yards away, the boy turned. His smile was still in place, though now it was clearly filled with anticipation. "I wish to play a game with you, Aiden."[hr]The game proved to be far more entertaining than Aiden had feared it would be. From nowhere, the boy had summoned a table and two chairs with a simple wave of his hand. If their surroundings could be called liquid light, then these objects were crafted of solid shadow. Aiden approached, and ran his finger tips over the back of the nearest chair, if it could indeed be called a chair. It was more akin to a throne; high backed, and wide seated. It was cold to the touch.

"What are you?" Aiden asked, looking at the child.

The boy smiled and used the first two fingers of his right hand to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from his eyes. Aiden couldn't tell if the smile was genuine, or made of malice, or some other emotion. The ambiguous nature of the grin subsided when the child giggled and moved to sit in his shadow-crafted chair. When he had done so, the distance between the throne and the table seemed to warp, and bend. In the blink of an eye, he was an arms reach away from the empty surface of the table.

"Sit." Palm up, Irdaet indicated the empty chair across from him. Obediently, the Fell sat slowly in the shadow throne. The cold he had felt before was gone, and the solidified shadows seemed to conform to his body. It was easily the most comfortable construction he had ever sat on. He felt a twisting in his stomach, and he blinked. When his eyes opened, his throne was at the table as well. Between them, shadows and light mingled together and contorted into the shape of a playing board. The sides of the board were raised, and the inside was lowered, with square indentions. The boy waved his hand, and a myriad of silver and red playing pieces materialized like swirling fog.

"This game is a complicated one, but you should find it to your liking. It is called khet." The boy pointed toward a piece in the center of the board, but pushed against the side. Another piece exactly like it sat across the board, on the opposite side.

"That is my Pharaoh." He pointed to the red one. Moving his hand, he pointed to the silver one opposite it. "That is yours. If one of the our beams hits your Pharaoh, you lose. If one hits mine, I lose."

"Beams?" Aiden asked, confused.

"All in good time, just pay attention." Irdaet responded, then pointed to a strange piece beside the Pharaoh. There were two like it, one to each side. Each piece had another stacked on top of it. "These are Obelisks. They protect the Pharaoh. They may be hit twice each. When they are hit, the first layer is removed from the game. Again, and the last one is. You may also choose to separate them. If you do so, you may move them independently, but then one hit destroys that piece permanently."

Aiden nodded. Irdaet moved on.

"These are Djed." He indicated four pieces in the center of the board, two red, two silver. Each had a mirror on both sides, and were shaped so that there were no sides without such a mirror. "These pieces cannot be removed from play, as they have no side vulnerable to the beam. Because of this, they are an excellent piece to center your strategy on."

Last, he pointed to a triangular piece, of which there were many in both colors. "These are Pyramids. Because of their design, they are vulnerable on two sides -the ones without mirrors- and can bounce the beam back and forth."

"One move consists of moving any piece one square in any direction, or rotating the piece ninety degrees. Silver always goes first." With his palm turned up, Irdaet gestured for Aiden to move.

Thinking carefully, but still confused, Aiden moved one of his pieces forward, then looked up at Irdaet. Smiling, Irdaet indicated a small crimson orb embedded in the left corner of his side of the board. Leaning forward, the Fell touched it with his finger tips. A moment passed with nothing, then a beam of light was emitted from a small round hole directly below the button. The beam terminated against the back of one of his own pieces. Frowning, he looked up at Irdaet as the piece faded away.

"I told you, any piece hit in the back is removed from play, even if it is your own piece you hit. You should be more careful. Had you not moved that piece, it would have shunted the beam harmlessly against the wall of my side of the board." Irdaet stated. Looking back to the board, Aiden realized it was true. The piece he had moved would have redirected the beam of light with its mirror. Cursing himself for his rash decision, Aiden looked up at Irdaet.

"And now, the terms of our game. When one of your pieces is removed from play, you answer one of my questions without reserve, and with complete honesty. And when one of mine are taken, I will do the same." Irdaet looked into Aiden's eyes. "First question... Why did you sacrifice yourself to save the Salus?"

Aiden frowned in mild confusion. "The Salus? You mean Alaina? I saved her because I love her. She is my wife."

"Your wife? Then the laws have been forgotten?" Irdaet frowned this time, and a dark cloud seemed to blight his mood as he made his first move. When he finished, he waved his hand over the scarlet gem on his side. Though his laser hit nothing but the board at Aiden's side, he also didn't kill one of his own pieces. Looking up, he gestured to Aiden.

More carefully this time, Aiden inspected the board, trying to use logic to determine where the beam would end up with each of his movements. When at last he found a move that didn't imperil any of his own pieces, he made it, and mimicked Irdaet's waving gesture. The ray of light bounced off his newly moved piece, and impacted harmlessly against Irdaet's side of the board. Irdaet smiled, his boyish charm showing in the expression.

"Much better! You're a quick learner." Irdaet said. Leaning forward, he made a move of his own. Once again, no piece was removed.

"What are these laws?" Aiden asked, ignoring the compliment. Leaning forward, he turned one of his Djed. The beam lanced off two of his pieces, hit the Djed, and ended with one of Irdaet's Obelisks vaporizing. Aiden smiled in triumph.

"They are the laws that I gave to the Fell Empire before I left." Irdaet returned the smile, then moved one of his pieces. One of Aiden's pieces turned to mist, and worse, Aiden could see that he'd lose another piece next turn as well, unless he disrupted Irdaet's line of attack. Looking back up, Irdaet continued speaking, no sign of gloating in his demeanor. "There were only three laws. Each had a purpose. One: Do not act with dishonor. Two: Do not breed with non-Fell, and last, always bear the marque of your line."

"What do you mean, before you left? Who are you?" Aiden asked, all pretenses of subtlety gone. The curiosity burned in him.

Irdaet smiled softly, and gestured toward the khet board. Turning his eyes back to it, Aiden examined the board critically, his gaze tracing the paths possible with each available move. As he looked, another revelation unfurled in his mind. Unless he deterred the boy's current strategy, he would not only lose a piece next turn, he would wind up in a fork; forced to lose another piece. His eyes continued searching. Finally, he smiled in triumph yet again. He could easily deflect Irdaet's attack path by moving one of his Pyramids forward one square. Instead, he moved his Djed to the left. Passing his hand over the crimson gem, he watched the beam of light tag one of the boy's Obelisks. It dispersed in a cloud of mist, and Aiden looked up into the frowning face of Irdaet.

"Why did you do that? Now you will lose two pieces." The boy said.

"This is a game of strategy. One answer now is worth more to me than two pawns." Aiden answered. "Now who are you?"

Irdaet's frown melted into a wide grin, and he once again swept a lock of blonde hair from his eyes. "I see now that I do not play against a novice."

"As I said, my name is Irdaet. It doesn't surprise me that your kind no longer remembers it. I am not a God, despite what you are thinking. I did not create the Fell. I was simply the first. I am the Progenitor." The boy said. Aiden leaned back in his chair obviously unsatisfied with the answer, though he continued to listen.

"I am an Immortal; one step below Divinity. I was born of the union between Strength and Chance. I can offer you no easier answer, and even that is simplified almost to inaccuracy." The boy's eyes gazed into forever, lost in some far away place. "I didn't create us, but I helped to populate our race through the power I was granted at my birth."

"And what do you want with me? How can I be important enough to warrant this game?" Aiden asked suspiciously.

"Isn't it obvious?" The boy asked, frowning lightly. Somehow that expression, which made even the most beautiful look ugly, only made him cuter. "I want you to be my Hand in the mortal realm. I want to send you back, and give you more than you've ever had."

[JadeStorm]

The pain shuddered up and down her ribs, a ricocheting throbbing that left her stumbling instead of walking, gasping and whimpering in a burning agony that just wouldn't fade. She ground her teeth, giving every last drop of her willpower to remaining on her feet. An igneous fever permeated her wound, leaving her body sweltering with a heat that contrasted against the almost frigid night air. Though it had stopped bleeding, Sun Zu Shang couldn't remember when that scarlet waterfall had run dry. She shook her head softly, trying to clear the black specks that floated through her vision. Her short, chestnut colored hair spun with the movement, and she fell heavily against the stone wall at her side. Her head felt heavy, and the sheen of sweat that layered her skin caused the dirt and grime kicked up by her fall to stick to her. She was beyond lightheaded- the dark passage rotated slowly around her. She couldn't seem to fill her lungs, no matter how long or deeply she inhaled.

She only wished she could remember what had brought her here, to this place that seemed vaguely familiar, in the same way that nightmares did. The darkness stretched away into forever, and the air was thick with dust. No one had been here, to this place, in years beyond counting. Lifting her hand, she gazed at the yellowed stone. The ball of light that rotated slowly above her upturned palm shed a dim light over her surroundings. She couldn't remember having ever been able to craft such a spell before, though with her memory as it currently was, that said little. All she knew was that as she had stumbled blindly in the dark, the pain of her wound slowly spreading out through her body like a growing spider's web, she had found the ability buried deep in her. A swell of willpower and emotional force had ushered the light to life in her hand. It was dim, barely more than a candle, but it's light was a pure white, and drove back the shadows that had been trying -oh so successfully- to unnerve her.

Shifting around to put her back against the wall, and lower the rest of the way to a sitting position, she gasped as the inside of her bicep grazed her wound. She couldn't remember where she had gained that swollen red lump of torn flesh, and that was perhaps what scared her the most. Her quiver that hung from her waist scraped across the ground as she sat, and her bow clattered down out of her right hand. Normally she would never have treated her weapon with such carelessness, but right now she really didn't care what happened to it. Only one thing mattered to her, and it relived itself in her mind with such crystal clarity as had been lacking from her short term memory for over a day now. It was as if she was there again.

In her mind, the ghosts of her past had come to life once more.[hr]His lips pressed hard against hers, kissing her with a desire that mirrored her own. She could feel the stubble of his cheek rubbing against her own. Smiling, she lifted her hand and ran her palm over the line of his jaw. Opening her eyes, she gazed into his grey eyes. The world was swallowed in fire.

Something had exploded, and close. Pain blossomed in Sun's stomach. On her hands and knees she vomited, a gory, crimson rain that sprayed across the floor in front of her. It had burned all the way up her throat, and the cloying scent of copper filled her nose until she could barely breathe past her own gagging. Her instinct yelled at her to find her armor and weapons, but her head swam through a red sea of confusion. She looked back, trying to understand what had happened.

He was dead. There was no cruel doubt, no plausible deniability. Behind him, the wall disappeared into black slag a foot off the ground, and above, the ceiling simply faded from existence half way toward the vanished wall. He still sat in the chair only now his stubbled cheek, along with his face, was gone. The charred wreckage left in it's place in no way resembled the handsome young man Sun had come to love. She remembered her training, and like circuitry on a failed technological machination, her emotions went cold, and shut down. He became just another dead body. In the street beyond the destroyed wall, she could see dozens of them.

In the far corner, which had escaped whatever wayward magic had destroyed half the building, her armor and bow lay atop her full quiver. Pushing herself to her hands and feet, she launched herself at them, despite her unsteady legs and the spinning of the room around her. Somewhere behind her, an wave of concussive force followed an ear shattering crash. Knocked off balance once more, Sun crashed headlong into the wall beside her equipment. Barely retaining her consciousness, she shook her head and spat out the excessive fluid that had filled her mouth again. The scarlet liquid splattered across the ground.

With quick movements, she donned her armor. The treated Jadeite from which the armor had been crafted was easily as strong as steel, and was enchanted with the special ability to withstand forces that would shatter steel by draining strength from her. It had been a gift to her from the Nova Ranger Zeyder Nogoth, and though it only covered her chest, shoulders, thighs, calves, and forearms, it was well worth wearing. Her years of training as a Nova Ranger was the only thing that kept her on her feet now, and gave her the steadiness to tighten the straps of her armor.

Standing, she drew an arrow from the quiver she had attached to her belt and fit it to the taut bowstring of her Jadestone bow. Without fear or reserve, she walked to the obliterated wall, and stepped out into the bright afternoon sunlight. As before, a great wave of force swept over her, kicking up dirt and dust. It was of the same kind as the one that had tossed her backward moments before. Only now, it broke over her armor like water on rock. She felt her reserves of strength lessen under that gust of power, but she stood her ground. Her eyes sought the source of the concussive blasts, and found at their origin a man in long, flowing black robes.

He spotted her at the same instance that she hefted and drew her bow. He lifted his hand, and in it, she could see a source of power gathering, swirling air compressing and condensing. She released her arrow. The world went white.

[DarkStorm]

"Who is she?" Aiden asked, watching the magical illusion Irdaet had summoned. Behind them, the game of khet lay abandoned. Ahead, light bent in extraordinary ways to lay out a scene before them. It depicted a woman with short, red chestnut colored hair and jade armor stumbling down a darkened corridor. She swayed dangerously, barely managing to catching herself on the wall before falling. Her left hand was held out before her, and light spilled from it. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because, I feel you should know your enemy." Irdaet replied. The hint of a smirk tugged the corner of his lips upward. The expression seemed misplaced on his boyish, innocent face.

"This woman is not my enemy." Aiden replied. Indeed, he had never even laid eyes on her before.

"Really? Her father, Ishadin, just gutted you, and stole your son." Irdaet replied casually.

It felt as if he had smashed a sack of bricks into Aiden's chest. At the news, memories swirled through his head like a tornado, a hail of doubts and fears pockmarking his heart. He watched, again, as Ishadin killed his first family. In his mind, he could remember every last detail as the madman had extinguished first his wife, then his children one by one.

"He has Chance? He has my son?" Aiden asked, his voice steadily rising to a shout. Time seemed to come unglued, and disconnected. When he started speaking, he had been at least ten feet away from Irdaet. When he finished, Irdaet's shirt was crumpled in his grasp, and the child's feet dangled above the ground. He offered no resistance as Aiden held him in his grip.

"Yes. I'm sorry." Irdaet replied, and Aiden could hear genuine sympathy in the boy's voice. "That is why I have shown you the girl."

Aiden growled angrily, but sat the boy back down on his feet gently. "I don't understand!"

"The woman's name is Sun Zu Shang. She is nearly dead. The only reason she persists now is through my power." Irdaet stated.

"'Through your power'?" Aiden asked.

"She is a Fell, just as you are. Where the Fell Gene influences your strength and speed, hers influences her desire for survival." Irdaet answered. "If I withdraw my hand, she will die, and you will have your revenge against Ishadin."

Aiden held his silence, and stared at the boy.

"I swear to you, if you give me the word, I will let her die."

Aiden scowled darkly, and looked back at the illusion. "Do not. The sins of the father are not the sins of the daughter. If you can use your power on her, then heal her. She does not deserve to die because of her father's corruption."

"Good." Irdaet smiled, and spoke softly. Aiden could help but feel like he had just passed a test he hadn't known he was taking. "I am glad you made the decision you did."

"Why?" Aiden asked suspiciously, his eyebrow lifting.

"Because she is my Grand daughter." Irdaet replied.

Aiden only stared at Irdaet, his jaw clenched tightly. He suddenly felt betrayed. "So Ishadin is your son?"

"Was my son." Irdaet corrected. "He is also my murderer."

Aiden scowled, his irritation rising at finding himself in such a situation. Here he was, dead and at the mercy of his worst enemy's father. "Good. Maybe you can explain to me why your son slaughtered my first family? Or perhaps why you let him do it in the first place?"

Irdaet shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it."

"I thought Gods were all powerful?" Aiden asked, acid in his voice. The boy shook his head again.

"I am not a God. I am an Immortal." The boy replied.

"And there is a difference?" Aiden spat angrily.

"Yes, there is. I am simply an Immortal. I cannot die, yet I have been striped of my powers. My body is dead, and so I reside here, in this place." Irdaet sighed wearily, and Aiden was struck by how wrong it seemed. Appearing as a young boy, it simply wasn't right for someone so young to appear so haggard. "Reviving you will drain what is left of my power. I'll be nothing more than a spirit who will not die."

"Then why do you do this? Why am I so important?" Aiden demanded. Nothing seemed to be making sense!

"Because... a man is only as noble as the causes he supports. I cannot revive myself. But I believe that my work will be continued through you. I believe you can bring peace to this world, and restore the Fell Empire. I believe that you can do what I tried to do, and achieve what I failed to do."

"Fell Empire?" Aiden asked, his curiosity piqued. He had always desired an answer to a single question. What did it mean to be a Fell? What legacy did his blood give to him?

Irdaet nodded, and motioned to the chairs they had abandoned some time ago. "Sit. The tale is a long one."