"One Sex on the Beach, Thank You!"

[Maia]

((This is started before the FQ, and should be noted that this is before Xem'zund was even known to be attacking.))

A delicate and pristine finger slid across the book spines all standing in a row. Their titles were written in several different ways. Some would be written with the title lengthwise along the book, forcing the reader to cock her head to check the title. Others were along the width, and were simple. Some had no title upon their spines at all, old tomes so over read that their names have been rubbed away. These needed to be pulled down to read, and were put back into their place with little more than a small groan from the searcher. Many though were in the Common or Elvish tongue and only an odd one deviating with a Salvaric or even gnomic title.

Every book had a small number at the base of its spine, but that was given up long ago. Whoever the librarian was, he was the only one who could decipher that code. It jumped from number to number with no real reason. A tome detailing the biology of dragons was numerically next to a book of exotic poses, and the next related thing to either was often dozens of numbers away. Many were kept in excellent condition by a meticulous hand.

The section Maia currently was searching though was almost like the books waiting room. None of the spines were completely free of damage and all could have easily been several times her age. The smell of all of them excited the bright lass though, and she was stubborn enough to convince the librarian to let her in. He left her the warning about keeping them in some order and to return them quickly. Of course, the girl didn't know if there was any order in the first place. A treasure hunt in this library may take years to complete without a perfect memory.

Maia was far from a stupid girl and that always seemed to surprise many people. She enjoyed sitting and reading far more than most other hobbies. Adventuring could have been left for lots of other people to do and alcohol could only bring a girl along so far. She loved to read books, literally curling up on a soft bed and reading them slowly and often into the night. She had been around the world twice now, but the works of some authors were more real than her own life at times.

“One, two, what to do, what to do,” Maia murmured under her breath. It was the only real sound in the room, coming out in a little sing-song voice that carried its own melody. Hair that could have been passed off as gold was tied in a simple ponytail behind her. She was allowed only two books, and the leather pack she had slung next to her would only hold smaller ones. She had already passed up some of the more interesting choices like The Snow Sisters and one whose title only said Redrick. Neither would fit into her pack that well though and were sadly put back into their places.

Two book really did call to the girl though. They looked to be companion novels, each telling the same story, from another's view. The first few pages of the red covered one astounded the girl, and the other was by the same man. At least it looked like it was from the same man. The author's name was actually cut out by a small blade and definitely not by accident. Aside from the two gouging of the author, both were in excellent condition and fit easily into her pack. Their titles seemed to fit as well and her hand seemed to pull the two together off their shelf space before her eyes caught their names. The Red Pharos and The White Calamity.

Maia redid the clasp on her leather bag, smiling beside herself as she began to navigate the maze back through the library. When she had entered, the wind and rain were pouring across the town like the sear herself was invading. However, she knew storms well enough that it would be perfect soon, if it wasn't already. She had a very fair idea of where she was going to go.

She passed by the librarian, waving to him as she opened the wooden door gently. Bright sunlight rushed the shadows back and squinted Maia's eyes. She stepped out, carefully closing the door behind her as she did so. The cobbles on the street were hard, but welcoming as she began to walk into the soft breeze coming from the horizon. Her task in the library was twofold, and both accomplished.

[Ataraxis]

When the bonnie blonde reached for the brassy knob, a head of black hair peeked from behind a nearby bookshelf. It was slow to scan the surroundings, its blue eyes bearing semblance to some suspicious tools of surveillance and espionage. Like a hunter on the prowl, she stalked her prey in utter silence, narrowing her stare as she waited to pounce. 'Focus, focus. Expect the unexpected, prepare yourself for the worse, don't let anything distract you from the task at hand!'

A sudden footstep sounded in the narrow aisle. Lillian jumped as a reflex, shouldering the bookshelf by accident as she fell to her knees behind a parchment globe, large enough to hide her diminutive frame. The bookcase tilted. Several spines of brown and burgundy began to wobble out of their homes. The poor girl waved her hands like there was no tomorrow, shaking her head left and right as she watched in foreboding the catastrophe unfold. "No, no, no, no-no!" she tried to say, but her lips made no sound as they moved. By some insane strike of luck, however, the frenzied threshing of her head and arms succeeded where had failed the noiseless word she had been mouthing. The shelf teetered slower and slower, until it became still and silent once more, propped sullenly against the stony slabs of the wall. Quite relieved, she let her back slump on the nearest object. The globe spun under the pressure; Lillian slid to the side, let loose a mouse's squeak, and fell into a mess of grey dust.

While she gave the sore side of her rump a soothing rub, Lillian shot a squinted glance to the owner of the previous footfalls, an elvish librarian who regarded her curiously before walking away, a bundle of aged scrolls under his armpit and a hook in his eyebrow. 'Oh, I can't believe that startled me! And he saw me, too...' she squirmed on the filth-strewn ground, hands of downy white clasped over her flustering cheeks. This embarrassing moment notwithstanding, the girl was quick enough to get back on her feet, using the three-legged pine stand under the spherical map as support. Wasting no more time, she scoped the contents of the dim chamber, and muttered a snarling oath in her mother tongue. The woman she was tracking was nowhere in sight, the front door was closed, and a short-lived whiff of saline air hung about the premises, testament to the proximity of the ocean.

“Oh no, no, no!” she repeated incessantly as she flung her knapsack on her back and fastened the straps in one trained motion, before dashing out the door and falling in hot pursuit of the woman. Lillian hopped about to see over the tall heads of the crowd, at once seeing the comely stranger ambling about the streets of Anebrilith, without a care in the world. Unfortunately, knowing what the the woman had brought along for her lightearted promenade, Lillian could imagine quite a few reasons why the world itself could no longer be so carefree. During her last visit in the eminent library of Radasanth, the girl found herself the lucky proprietor of an ancient repository of knowledge, a book called the Unseen Nexus. Though it was not magic in itself, it was a key to unlock time-lost troves of ancient powers, for in it were recorded the ciphered locations of a hundred, perhaps even a thousand artifacts, hidden throughout Althanas from the ancestral ruins of its greatest kingdoms to adobe huts in its most backwater regions.

It was only a few days ago that she, a modest, sixteen-year-old librarian from Fallien, had cracked the code on the first page of the Nexus, when no other had managed this astounding feat in a good two hundred years. It had been a glorious day, so glorious in fact that the malignant looks of those she had disturbed with her victorious cry held no, or at least very little, dispiriting sway over her little heart. The first few paragraphs she had translated were devoted to greet and congratulate her ‘prodigious mind’ – words that were oddly charming, coming from an inanimate object. Regrettably, Lillian could not bask in her well-earned triumph very long, for what she had learned in the last half of the page was enough to cast a baleful thunderhead over her spirits.

The Red Pharos and The White Calamity were not books meant for a leisure read. Long ago, they were revered artifacts, sought by kings to defend their lands from the scourges that walked the ocean, or by sailors to gain the favor of frivolous winds and the mercurial seas. One brought raging storms, darkness and carnage, the other peace, light and favorable winds. The Nexus told no more, save for its location and a precautionary advice to those who would seek it. ‘Horizon is law, twilight is order. The breaker of barriers, of chaos the bringer.’ It was fairly obvious then that finding them and bringing them together was not an option.

However, she could not simply disregard these tomes and simply hope that no unlucky soul would ever stumble upon them by accident. It was her duty to find one and secure it faraway, in another library – no, in another country altogether. The task had fallen upon her frail shoulders like a ton of bricks, but as the only person still aware of their existence, of the danger that had been hanging over the port city like a lit fuse for all these years, she could absolutely not afford to be remiss in her duties. Lillian did not know the extent of damage this ‘chaos’ would bring, were the books ever to be reunited. What she did know, however, was that she had no intention of ever letting anyone find out.

For this reason, a hodgepodge of emotions came over her when she had seen the tall blonde stow the books away in her leather bag, and Lillian quite nearly collapsed into a ball of shivers, fearing the impending explosion she had imagined. When, by miracle, nothing happened, the young librarian decided to follow the lank woman. A plan to enact upon their encounter, however, had not yet been machinated. Would she purloin one with a swift hand and even swifter feet? Or would she subdue the blonde to take it by force?

The more she thought of an answer, the more she felt angry at the derelict library and its incompetent staff. The books were supposed to be section apart! Sections! Not one measly shelf! Ankhas in Ettermire, the library of Radasanth, the ancient Bibliotheca that resided right here in Anebrilith would never make such a mistake. Why, then, are all important books always hidden in the worst of libraries? She cried out mentally, shuddering as she recalled Bawdy Barry, the erotic bookstore where she discovered the Unseen Nexus. Shooing the creeping disgust that roiled in her throat, she dashed over the dappled cobbles, feeling the hardness dig into he soles, the smell of salt growing stronger as she followed a bobbing blond head through the thinning crowd.

The run had not been long, but Lillian was already out of breath when the woman came to a halt. While she tried to catch her breath, the nature of her surroundings finally sank into her head. Seagulls cawed in flocks, and the frothing of waves lapped at the drum of her ears. The girl could hear a cheery hubbub, coming from the foot of the slope where she had stopped to rest. While she was distracted, the stranger she pursued had vanished behind the white doors of an elongated cabin, sitting near a wooden stairway that coiled down to a stretch of white sand.

“This is… a beach?”

[Maia]

Maia's eyes began to adjust to the bright and brilliant sunlight as she walked along towards the beach. The library, despite having good light for so flammable a place, was dark enough to blind her as she left. Between her internal map, the sea breeze and the general sounds of the area, the girl was able to squint out the first leg of her journey. She moved with a bounce in her step despite the bright sun and her bag swung carefree from side to side. She wore simpler clothes that day, merely a somewhat large shirt and pants. They were both comfortable, but neither would really be needed at the beach itself.

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the sun's light when she reached the cabinet of the beach, which also served as the only entrance to the sand and surf below. From the outside of the white building a wooden staircase, shiny from polish, lead down. The beach itself extended for an unknown length from both sides; the only constant was the cliff on one side and the brilliant azure sea on the other. The large building that served as the portal to the fun before her was painted white, nearly devoid of any large windows. The reasoning made Maia giggle when she first heard of it, but it was an important aspect nevertheless. Her hand grasped the cool metal handle and turned, opening the door way to reveal a short hallway.

It split off into two directions, with a small sign indicating where a specific gender should go. An elvish man sat in a chair in the middle, smiling and gesturing with a thin and elegant arm for Maia to enter into the left room. The girl thanked the man, walking into the next room carefully. She poked her head around the second turn that prevented the casual pervert to see girls changing, thankful that there was no one else in the room at the time. She set her leather bag down on one of the chairs, pushing aside one of the several curtains that led into a cramped room. She stepped inside, closing the curtain and carefully checking to make sure that no one was watching.

A crimson blush crossed over her face as she thought about how shy she was about such a thing like changing when she was so lackadaisical about appearance most of the time. The slightly-too-large shirt she was wearing came off easily, and her hands quickly adjusted the much smaller cloth so that it actually covered her chest. She had bought the swimming clothes the day before in a shop nearby, guaranteed that they would be perfect for the beach nearby. The girl loved them, but doubted their practicality for much else beyond the beach. She shimmied out of her pants, wiggling and pulling them off her legs a little roughly. The pants were made of a good stock, and gave no evidence of any stress.

The curtain was pushed aside carefully, and Maia's head peeked out before the rest of her body followed. Her body gave an involuntary shiver without the sudden feeling of more clothing, but it quickly passed. Her recently removed clothes were stuffed into her leather bag haphazardly. They stretched the bag a little, but her books were easy to grab despite. She closed it up, slipping it over her shoulder and carrying it out towards the exit.

The guard on duty gave a wide smile at Maia, giving her a thumbs up as she passed. She grinned back, but blushed again a little. There was something so much more embarrassing when there was only one other person looking at her. It was only made worse when he was dressed somewhat professionally and well covered. A very stark contrast with Maia in her skimpy outfit as she walked past him. The wooden steps were smooth and well made. There was no rough edge for the girl's foot to accidentally hurt from a splinter or sharp edge.

The sand was soft and warm, creating a small dimple as Maia's long legs made a strike and lifted a foot. She smiled in the sun, listening to the crashing of the bright sea and caws of the gulls overhead. There were not that many people on the beach at the moment, but many were spaced out for quite some distance. The area was supposed to be a hot spot on some nights and a place of relaxation during the day. The people Maia could see were surprisingly not all human. She could see several humans and other races she couldn't make out in the distance. As she traveled along the beach with bag swinging on every step, she played a game of 'Who's the majority?' Not long, to a short fit of giggling, it became obvious that the human male was the most common sight on the sands.

A good spot to sit down soon made itself known after a short walk. There was some natural shade from one of the trees that managed to live at the base of the cliff, as well as enough sand to make a comfortable headquarters. The girl's feet dug shallow trenches in the sand, creating a mound so she could rest them for a while. Likewise tanned hands made a mound and small hole for her rump to rest. Maia settled down into her makeshift seat, using her shirt to make a seat from the sand. Maia wasn't so ignorant of how to act on a beach to know that sand inside the suit was annoying.

She grinned and took out the book with the bright red color. In a different light the same cover could have passed for a lover's pink or assassin's crimson. Her pack found itself as part of her brace against the tree. The book however was held as if it was Maia's firstborn, reading the title carefully and even mouthing the words.

The Red Pharos

Maia began to read the book, resting the the red book on her trim stomach.

[Ataraxis]

I have a bad feeling about this... When she had first come upon the cliff overlooking the sandy seashore, a sensation of foreboding had bound her chest, trussing it up with unseen wires. Because of it, the young girl had dallied about the white doors of the cabinet, shuffling uncomfortably on her feet as her fingers drew back and forth between the handle and her hip. Come on, Lily, the fate of the world depends on you! Well, maybe not the world per se, but still...

It took strange looks from an elven couple – and especially a slew of improper comments by a passing band of merry men – for the youth to muster the tiniest morsel of courage from the confines of her little body and finally enter the building. There, Lillian was ushered into the dim and narrow corridor on her left by an elf that, though male, exuded an all too feminine elegance, a quality not quite isolated from the rest of the masculine population of Raiaera, she noted.

The passage led her to a room with walls of whitewash, very similar to those outside the cabin, save for the overabundance of plain blue curtains that stretched from the stained ceiling to the cemented floor. With unsure tiptoes, she had made her way to the far end of the chamber, toward the light of the open exit. Little did she know that an immensely burly arm would stop her in her tracks and deny her access to the stretch of white sand below. It belonged to a guard of some sort, his intimidating frame all-wrapped in a costume fitter for a fancy dinner than for a hot and hazy day at the beach. With a piercing glare of hazel, he inspected her from head to toe, shaking his head in disappointment after an unspoken assessment.

With a thick and chunky thumb, the elven behemoth directed her attention to a signboard on his right, hanging on the wall by a slightly rusty nail. At its head, in ample and cursive etchings characteristic to the elven populace, she read Rules of the Velatha Beach. The young girl took a second or two to read it thoroughly, and her face finally constricted in a mix of anger and prudish shame. “Y-You can’t be serious!” Outrage and offence could not sum up what she was feeling at that very moment. Most of the rules pertained to what items were allowed on the location and what items were not, such as weapons and domesticated animals, but the last one had brought a red glow to her ears. To enter, beachwear is not recommended, but required.

“But I don’t have anything like that!” The expression on the guard’s face was unchangingly impassive, even as Lillian raised her tone. This only served to strengthen the sense of helplessness that was washing over the timid girl. Even if she did possess skimpy clothing of the sort, she would decidedly die before wearing – in public, no less – what she had always considered as nothing more than dignified underwear. The very notion of walking around with only hanging threads and the occasional patch of cloth, baring the most of her skin, of her feminine shapes, made her ears fume like a teapot. Lillian saw it as modesty, and would never dare say otherwise. However, it might have been a worldly fear that had emerged only recently in her adolescent years, a new awareness she didn't care for much. “C-Could you please make an exception, just this time? I-I won’t stay long!”

The first words uttered by the titan at the door were no comfort to the shy librarian. “It’s either in beachwear or in the buff, darling.” Her eyes went wide with shock. As a reflex, she stepped back, raising her slender arms to hide herself from view, or rather, what she suddenly felt needed additional shielding from wandering eyes. If wearing nothing but floss scared her, wearing nothing at all mortified her to the very core. Given this choice, her next step was a reluctant no-brainer. “I... I may have something in my bag I could use. Excuse me...” With that, she vanished behind blue curtains, the shadow of surrender in her bashful eyes.

[Maia]

The book was written in clear, printed letters. It surprised the girl at first and she even thought that someone might have forged the rest of the book as well. A cursory glance by flipping through the rest of the pages revealed it was in fact written that way and not a forgery. Pages were put back so she could start again, only the front cover open. A slight breeze seemed to float gently past. Maia slid a hand through her golden hair, slipping it behind her ear as the pages ruffled restlessly. Sapphire eyes began to trail along the page as the words formed their story within her mind and a smile of enjoyment crossed onto her face as she began to read. The sounds of the beach, from a game being played not far from her to the crashes of the oceon, began to fade as she became absorbed in her story.


~~~~~~***~~~~~~

Piotr touched his hand along the wall, feeling the warm, smooth stone under his fingertips. The hallways before him was long, but the ending not far off. The carpet muffled his footsteps. He never once looked down at the intricate design that portrayed a brightly lit room with a roaring fire and no people in it. Piotr was a cautious being and he never looked beyond what he needed to see. Smooth walls the color of pearl were merely barriers to his red eyes. His long strides carried him to the end of the hallway as he continued to trail his hand along the wall. A thin red line went behind him, tailing from a ball of string from his pocket.

The end of the hallway brought Piotr to what seemed like a balcony. A swear that only ancient historians would have known was swallowed up before it could travel far. What lay beyond the balcony was a drop he would not have thought possible for anything to contain. A bottomless pit could not have looked as deep or as beautiful. The same pearl walls sloped downward in a gentle spiral, with a thick carpet in the same style as the empty room beginning and ending every twenty feet or so. Piotr smiled grimly, picking up a candlestick that burned brightly from a small desk at at the end and middle of every rug. All of them were almost identical, but a closer inspection proved otherwise. Each candlestick seemed to be engraved differently, with different places and people upon each one. He put the candle stick back roughly and began to walk with an easy lope down the pathway.

[Ataraxis]

The sun had climbed inches higher into the periwinkle skies, the brushes of its light drawing a vivid painting with the lively scenery of the beach. The call of gulls was louder now, as was the wash of whitecaps upon the shore. All the while, Lillian kept her chin low and her eyes on the snaking sands, focusing on their burning touch to forget how humiliated she felt. The smile on the giant of an elf, teamed with his upward thumbs, had told her that she was now satisfactorily clothed for a day at the beach, and though glad that she was finally granted free passage, the price had been most bitter to pay. The librarian had already said that beachwear was nothing but a distinguished kind of underwear, but she had never realized how true her words were until this very day. Mother, forgive me for this disgrace...

Lillian tried her best to ignore the curious (and approving) eyes her entrance had attracted, but it was an abysmal failure as all she could think of was how countless men and women – but especially men – were watching her march over the white stretch with nothing on but her ‘undergarments’. Truth be told, she had sewn these herself with a fabric of her own making, when her actual underwear was purloined by a curious child she used to travel with; and because of their impermeable properties, she had chosen to wear them as replacement ever since. In every respect, what she now donned was more than adequate in these circumstances, especially when a crowd of women not far off wore scraps of colourful textile that were not even appropriate for sensuous lingerie. Even so, Lillian felt impossibly exposed, and was quite tempted to imitate an ostrich and choke herself in the sandy soil.

“Just find her quickly, Lily!” she muttered through gritted teeth, forcefully shutting her eyes to escape the abashing situation she had brought before herself. At the same time, a sultry breeze sent rolling waves through her hair, giving it the glossy qualities of black silk, similar to the refined weave that made her two-piece bathing suit. It was a modest attire in the sense that it revealed very little and that it was devoid of prints or superfluous ornaments, thus leaving much to the imagination, with only subtle hints about a generous reality. Some would say her teenage fears and insecurities were unfounded – and indeed, they would be in the truth, for on this beach, only Lillian believed that she was still a child.

At last, the librarian came to the end of her search. At the foot of the cliff, where a thin cluster of trees were oddly thriving, Lillian had found the sunny blond mane of the woman in question. For the past half hour, she had followed the back of her head, desperately trying to keep in stride with the taller girl, but this was the first time she had seen her face, one she instinctively knew was made to turn heads. She could see the blue sparkle that hid in her eyes, a heavenly shade that induced dreams in all men, could see the curved draw of her lush red lips. She could also see that the sinful curves she boasted beneath strips of red and white cloth, tied with crimson strings that crossed her neck and rounded behind it, were the makers of man’s most secret fantasies. At her sight, Lillian felt even further dwarfed, thinking meekly to herself that this was how real women were supposed to look like.

Lillian shook her head to discard such superficial and depressing thoughts, reminding herself that this sonsy blonde was the current proprietor of both the White Calamity and the Red Pharos. There was a flash across the pages of her mind, and she was reminded of the cryptic caveat in the Unseen Nexus, the apocalyptic warning that had been the very motive for her mission. This is no time for trivial things like feeling uncomfortable! You have a mission to complete. Making a sharp intake of air, she filled her lungs to the brim, and took a few bold steps forward. “Hello! I, um, couldn’t help but notice that you’re reading a book, and I was wondering– ”

An inflated ball with a tacky color scheme came out of the blue, striking her temple just as she was ending her opening sentence. There wasn’t a dangerous amount of force behind it, but it was rather unexpected, and Lillian wasn’t the strongest of girls, if not the weakest; thus, she was quick to crumble, making a dry splash in a mound of sand, half a dozen feet short of the blonde girl. The white mist her fall had roused sent clouds of sand every which way, partially covering the reading woman, as well as the pages of her book, with a thin, white film. “Ow...” she uttered wanly, her voice muffled by a cushion of sand.

Not long after the incident, a tall, tan man in red trunks jogged by, lifting an apologetic hand as he came closer. The maliciously pleased expression upon his face, however, did not reflect the remorse in his spoken words. “Very sorry, ladies; my hand slipped.”

[Maia]

Pages upon white pages began to turn before Maia's questing eyes. The words seemed to almost spiral around the page, yet remained easy enough to read. Pictures formed within her mind. A tall, striking man, the protagonist of course, made himself known within her mind. Piotr stood as solid as the titans themselves, indomitable and almost craggy. He seemed to be very rough, almost as if he was crafted out of the earth's most raw materials themselves. Maia could feel his large hands touching the alabaster walls, trailing his fingers lightly along as he traveled. There were not that many obstacles that had made themselves known so far, merely some guards that were taken care of with nothing more then a swat of Piotr's hand. His weapon was undefined so far, but the girl's imagination had already filled it in with a large war hammer, as primal and barely constrained as lions stuck in a cage. As his great feet began to walk slowly down the red carpet, Maia mood seemed to almost brighten exponentially. The sand and shade around her seemed to become as close and comfortable as silken sheet. Even her own body seemed to be more divine than mortal.

Of course, nothing can distract quite as well as a small cloud of sand flying up and covering your body. Maia's attention was instantly snapped from Piotr to her watering eyes. A surprised sound, very much like “meep,” came from Maia's mouth as she flipped the book close and brought her hands to her face. They rubbed at her eyes, working with the involuntary tears to help ferret out the grains of sand causing her such annoyance. The Red Pharos fell to the ground beside her tanned body, thankfully closed so that its pages would not get bent the wrong way. Her hands pulled away, and the sapphire eyes seemed a little magnified and puffy from the sand. They blinked, the vision clearing and revealing to the their owner the sight before her. Her hands quickly brushed most of the other sand off of her body, including a small bit that managed to fall on the inside of her two-toned top.

The girl was fairly lithe, though pretty and striking. Despite the annoyance that came from the sand kicked into her eyes and body, a smile formed on her face. Even in her most annoyed and angry moods, Maia was about as retaliatory to someone as helpless looking as the poor girl as a kitten was to just about anything. A little giggle even managed to escape her as she looked, unaware that the same very person lying helpless in the sand had tried to talk to her before. She leaned forward and got to her knees, shuffling a few steps on them before reaching the pretty girl. Maia was a brighter girl than most would have thought, but it did not take a mind of legendary renown to see that the poor girl wasn’t at fault. The real perpetrator of the crime seemed to have done so from a distance, but his instrument remained nearby.

The bright, tacky ball that orchestrated the fall continued to roll before stopping in a dimple in the sand, almost cocky in its movements. The blond lass decided against chasing after the solid, gimmicky ball, preferring to make sure that her unwilling attacker was safe. The white sand was soft as fur, but still rough and annoying in the smaller grains. Maia’s soft hands gripped the girl’s shoulders, helping her up. Her mouth was to one side in an inquisitive grin. She was light, much lighter than she appeared at least. Lithe features and body complimented her well, and Maia almost immediately decided that she was new to the beach, or at least came after her. She would not have missed someone with hair as shiny and beautiful as hers. Her age was a mystery to her, though she put her as a year or three below her own. Her blush on her face made her seem a lot cuter and younger then she really was.

Maia began to search over the girl's smaller frame, ears deaf to any complaints or compliments that she made. She was as methodical as a miser buying a new horse, checking every part of the body to see if it was broken or damaged in the slightest. Her entire body seemed to radiate a sudden sense that Maia was more than the pretty girl she appeared to be. Though, in Maia's case it resembled more like a concerned mother taking care of her young child. A soft hand brushed the newcomer's shoulders clear of some of the sand, but that was about it. A wide smile, showing nothing but kindness and generosity towards the girl began to trail onto her face. The new girl seemed to register as a “good person” in her mind, though that was only based off of intuition than anything else.

“You look kinda silly,” Maia stated simply, unaware of how strange and suggestive she herself looked. The girl still in her arms and on her knees was not an average looking girl by any stretch. The breathing space between them was limited, and Maia noticed with a slight giggle that part of her was almost touching her new friend. She shuffled back a few knee-steps, then sat back on her haunches, looking at the smaller maiden's clear azure eyes. Her own eyes locked, still a little puffy from the tears to remove the sand. Her own eyes were warm and inviting, her whole body nearly sparkling. “And you have a really cute bathing suit. I'm Maia Kristel, nice to meet you.”

[Ataraxis]

Lillian did not so much as breathe when the bonnie blonde rescued her from the smothering sands, lips sewn shut either by some mysterious force or a strange mixture of surprise and confusion. The woman’s grip was strong and steady, easing the librarian out of her less than graceful posture as though she were lighter than a feather – which, upon further reflection, was not so far from the truth. For that, the wee little teenager was much, much grateful, but this misleading sense of thankfulness was quick to shy away when she was plopped back onto the stretch of scorching white, only to be examined by the woman with the scrutiny of a sleuth. This came off as unnerving, so unnerving in fact that it made her shiver in cold sweat. Was she looking for wounds? Malformations? Was she trying to guess her pedigree? Feeling like a show horse was not something the modest girl would ever learn to enjoy. That being said, Lillian thanked her goddess that the woman had enough reserve not to move her examination into inappropriate realms, deciding instead to dust the powdery film off from the smaller girl’s shoulders with a gentle sweep of her downy hands.

“I look... silly?” Would she ever be free of this pressing urge to burrow her head under a ton of sand? Lillian stared hard at the little white mounds around her knees, trying her best to hide behind a curtain of wispy black, to hide the shame in her hangdog look. She knew it, she knew from the very beginning how ridiculous she must have looked, wearing these flimsy little things. She knew it very well… but even so, a part of her had wondered if maybe someone on this strange and unfamiliar beach had seen her in a more flattering light, had perceived her with an eye kinder than her own. Perhaps someone out there had the fleeting thought that she was worth more than a cursory glance, that she wasn’t just another face in the everyday crowds, that she wasn’t one of those bland and unassuming souls that are never looked at twice before drowning in a sea of featureless heads. These were the fears and insecurities that had been haunting her for the past few months, petty and superficial things she never would have considered, were she still a tender fifteen years of age. The timid girl squirmed on the spot, not daring to let a single sparkle of her watering eyes show in the sunny limelight. “O-oh. Well… yes, I-I guess I do. I never really… but yes, I can see your angle…”

The next string of words to greet her ears had come in as a most uplifting breeze. Her cheeks flared up like a forest fire in the dead of summer, and her stutter became so thick one could wonder if she were still speaking the common tongue, or something harsh, foreign and slightly daemonic. “C-cute? Really, do you really think so? I-I made it myself! It was a good deal cruder-looking an hour ago, though I-I think I made it look less ru-rudimentary! I do not have the habit of wearing such, w-well, articles of clothing. And oh! It is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss Kristel! I think you’re very pretty!”

At the very least, this was the gist of her rushed rambles. For all she knew, she had only thought the words while her mouth reeled on and spurted a very sophisticated-sounding ‘bluh’. Lillian took a deep and necessary breath, quelling her flurry of random thoughts with a mouthful of oxygen, shot directly into her brain. It was slow, but reason and composure had made their return in her trembling frame. There were more important things at hand than talk of swimsuits of matching colors. ‘The fate of the world – well, of Anebrilith lies in the balance, and you’re getting all flustered because someone complimented you? Get your act together, Lily!’

“Um, I am very sorry about… that. It seems I have a tendency to babble on when…” A pause for a perplexing thought. After a trice of silence, Lillian went on, an ironic curve hooking her eyebrow. “Well it seems I just have a tendency to babble on.” With one hand clasped on her lap and the other drawing arbitrary lines and shapes in the soft slate of the sand, she let a chuckle of embarrassment slip, avoiding the bright blue of Maia’s stare for a fleeting instant. “My name is Lillian Sesthal, and I really meant it when I said it was a pleasure to meet you!”

‘Now ask her about the books. Just ask her about the books, Lily, and you’ll be able to put all of this behind!' The cry in her head was as shrill as it was persuasive, and the prospect of putting a cross on this very humiliating page of her life made the thought of ending this torture all the more tempting. “I came over because I was wondering about the book you were rea– ”

“I must ask for your forgiveness again, ladies.” That voice. In this world, not many had felt the stabbing weight of her haunting stare, and this nettlesome man just found himself one of the chosen few. He had recovered the inflated ball from its resting place, rolling it playfully from hand to hand as he jogged closer even to the woman, but for the duration of an instant he felt as though wading through thick waters, contending against the force of an invisible wall, pushing, crushing. When the moment had gone, he returned to the placid beach. A flight of birds flocked in the distance, their caws faint and blurred as they reached the frothing shore. A group of humans had gathered around the skeleton of a campfire, seemingly built for nightly festivities. The male, which she now knew to be an elf, had gone still, as if befuddled by the strange impression that had assailed him out of the blue.

A moment was all it took for him to shrug it off and don the wide smile of an expert heartbreaker, apparently. “If you two will allow me, I would like to treat you both to a drink as an apology, to mend old wounds and start anew. What do you say?”

((I'll eventually post at normal rates again! But hey, this one didn't take your estimated month, so suck it! HAH! :P And don't worry, I'll take out all OOC notes later.))

[Maia]

A soft giggle escaped in Maia's sweet voice, almost melodious as she listened to the blacked haired girl. She trailed and bubbled over this and that and stumbled over her own words as she spoke. It was rather cute to watch, especially since half the words spoken by Lillian were most often used by professors at Istien or other universities. Even just listening to the girl's little spiel was entertaining, though it was sadly short lived. The real perpetrator of the tacky ball was making his way over. Maia giggled again, partially from the sun, but also because his swagger made the elf seem more like a duck then the macho man he wanted to be viewed as. Still, she had a fairly good idea of what she would end up doing, as well as what he was going to ask. Maia was far from oblivious about her appearance, as well as the girl she had just rescued. Still, there was more then a twinge of annoyance when she wasn't even able to get a word in edgewise.

"Come on Lilly,this might be fun," Maia said aloud. She grinned at the smaller girl, standing up and offering a hand to her new friend. The girl was light and easy to pull up, as well as much shorter than Maia. It was almost silly how much smaller Lilly was, especially since Maia never considered herself a very tall girl. She never for a moment considered herself dainty, but never that tall. She stood up to the elf, who continued his tom cat grin. He was about equal to Maia's height, but perhaps a trifle bigger. Still, muscles didn't help him much as she punched him on his less then washboard stomach. He let out a surprisingly oafish "oof" as Maia grabbed Lilly's hand and ran into the large crowd that was beginning to form.

They were safely within the thick crowd as Maia's mirth was almost shining out of her. Everything around her was a little brighter, and a little more fun. Her little partner in crime had almost struggled to keep up, not at all able to match Maia's long strides when pulled along so frantically and suddenly. Still, the lithe lass managed to keep her footing, even when Maia had stopped so suddenly. Maia hugged the girl, steadying her swaying form and grinning like a madwoman. “Sorry bout that, I'll make it up to you.” Maia's hand tugged at Lilly's hand again, bringing her further through the crowd. Every step the blond girl took, her whole body seemed to be taking another step in dance. Her voluptuous hips swayed as they skimmed through the group, her curves a stark contrast to many of the more angular elves.

The group that Lilly and Maia were apart of were all moving as well. Many were setting up different pieces of furniture or decorative items. Several bonfire rings were set up, and several more were already lit. Their glow seemed to bathe everything in a bright orange light, dancing back and forth and casting shadows everywhere. Maia herself looked angelic. The light danced upon her body, wrapping her creamy skin with a dress of shadow and light, her hair almost seemed to reflect like a diamond from the flames and her eyes sparkled magnificently, keeping their sapphire shine even amongst the red flames. The bar was ahead of the two girls, and was already all set up. The shining bottles behind the table top glistened like jewels in the firelight, and an attractive elvish man was tending it. He was mixing drinks, pouring them out and taking the next order.

“Have you ever had some 'sex on the beach?'” Maia's perfect eyebrows arched as she asked the question, stopping on a point before the bar. She faced her smaller companion, unaware of the shine of the bottles behind her. The man working the ambrosia of the gods smiled behind her pristine back, setting up the glasses.

[Ataraxis]

For some time had the sun reached its pinnacle, and it was now beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. The white clarity of the coast was dimming ever so slightly, taking on the soft hues of wheat and marigold. In the slump of daylight, everything seemed more serene, from the quiet calls of seagulls to the hushed sounds of jolly beachgoers. It might have all been but a trick of the mind, but it made Lillian realize an oddity that had hitherto gone unnoticed. While the world shied away to the shades of nightfall, Maia moved unblinking toward the unwavering light. ‘Strange, how she seems to shimmer now, brighter and brighter.’

Lillian followed as closely as she could, making an effort to fall in her wider strides. The woman tugged at her wrist, gently but unrelenting, slowing only when she felt the smaller girl could no longer walk on the small pits left by her footsteps in the sand without a fumble. When at last they stopped, the librarian had to catch on a few lost breaths before noticing the beachfront bar in front of her. From the corner of her eyes, she caught a brief reflection in the countless bottles that lined the back shelves, a most befuddling image.

‘Wings.’ Sparkling and immaculate wings, spanning far and wide from Maia’s back. Turning to inspect the woman, she realized that no new appendages had grown from her shoulder blades, be they angelic or demonic. Lillian, however, had no time to question her eyes, to doubt reality or ascertain a hallucination, as the sonsy blonde posed a most unexpected query.

“Sex... on... the beach?” the girl repeated slowly, enunciating each word as though unable to comprehend their meaning. Suddenly, she felt a wave of fire creep beneath her skin, rising from her toes to burn all across her face. “I-I-I-Intercourse in a public place? N-No! I’ve never even... even... no, never!”

Maia grinned at the flustered reply, having noticed that her display of prudishness was caused by a most amusing misunderstanding. “Really now? Well then, would you prefer it if the bartender simply gave you a Screaming Orgasm?”

The poor girl was so taken aback that she could utter no word, instead putting both hands on her face to stifle her gasp and hide the beat-red of her cheeks. The bartender had reached for something under the counter, and raised an eyebrow in confusion as he noticed her agitation. Lillian took it as different signal, and instantly buried her eyes deep inside her palms.

“You’re right, maybe just an Orgasm then? A Screaming kind from him seems like more kick than you could withstand. I’m used to them though, so I might just take two!”

“Coming right up, dear!” shouted the barman with much enthusiasm, reaching for a drawer right beneath the counter. The motion, however, seemed like something else entirely, and in Lillian’s ever-thriving imagination, it was the signal for great alarm.

She smothered a shriek, closing her eyes so hard that they might as well have popped out. There was the clanking of glass on wood, the sound of a shaking vessel, then the smooth pouring of a liquid. The girl, won over by curiosity, let an eye peer through the interstice between her index and middle finger, only to see a stream of gold-white alcohol straining out of a steel shaker and into two small glasses. “What will the young lady have?”

“Miss Kristel!” she yelled in outrage, unable to take how easily she had been duped. Her knowledge was almost encyclopaedic, but during her countless nights perusing books and manuals of all kinds, she had never thought to wander in cookbooks and cocktail recipes. As such, sexual references for cocktail names were not her forte.

“Very sorry, but that was a golden opportunity you gave me, Lily! You’ll have to excuse me for taking advantage of it.” Maia wore her sweet yet mischievous smile with pride, her sapphire eyes glittering teasingly as she apologized. “Here’s to forgiveness!” she cried out with glee, raising her glass high while pulling the raven-haired girl closer. Without warning, she pinched her nose and downed the whole of the shot glass’ contents into her mouth as it yawned for air. The creamy froth rolled down her gullet, blazing yet soothing, and though it was forced on her, she enjoyed the slightest hint of roasted beans as well the woozy wave that assaulted her soon after.

“Do you feel like going to the bonfires now?” Maia asked slyly, quaffing her own shot with an expert motion, loudly gavelling the counter with it afterwards. When the girl tiptoed left to right, then forward, only to whisper a giggling ‘yes’ into her ears, the blonde woman straightened up and slammed a few coins on the tabletop, downing the glass the bartender had just refilled. “Drunk so fast? You really are a little lightweight, aren’t you Lily?”

“Alliterations really don’t suit you, miss Kristel!” Lillian said in a stretched out drawl, pointing her index every which way in correction as they made their way to a bundle of straw near a ring of stones. “And nooo! Little Lily has only gone a little tipsy!” Again, she giggled, while the last ounce of her rationale screamed out in disbelief. It was madness that a single glass of liquor could make a girl with such an astounding memory forget that the fate of Anebrilith was still in her now-drunken hands.

((Hope you're okay with the super-bunnying: I wanted to write that conversation between them realyl bad ^^ Feel free to take us dancing, stripping and sleeping! And hey, let’s save the steel sarongs for the next day, shall we? And you know what to do with Maia and the books!))

[Maia]

The sun’s lazy crawl through the sky above took much less time then anyone would have thought. The shadows were beginning to lengthen quickly, leaving the mirror images of their masters and leaving behind a long caricature of darkness. The water seemed to blaze from the dying sun, almost on fire with the light, a valiant last stand against the darkness that came. The sands sifted beneath toes and feet and passed on warmth gladly.

Maia felt a little bad about tricking the smaller girl to take the shot at first. She could barely stand, though how much of that was acted and how much was artificial was unknown. The feeling quickly passed as Lillian revealed to be having the time of her life and such a sight made Maia smile. The girl seemed so small, so innocent. She was so out of place here that Maia was actually frightened for the little black-haired dove.

Nevertheless, not a single drink touched Lilian’s lips beyond that first, or at least nothing that could be considered firewater even by the vaguest terms. She seemed to think herself a little noble at times, able to drink and laugh and play and do whatever she wanted. Everyone was her servant, and Maia her ever loyal protector. The larger girl played her part well, directing the svelte hand of Lillian to where she would be safest; yet despite the blonde’s insistence, the raven-haired girl wanted her to take to the floor more often. The little princess had sat down, waving a spilling glass as she proclaimed admiration of her own fun.

The evening shadows were kept at bay by the roaring flames of the bonfires, but fluttered at the edge of Maia’s sight. The great fire flickered back and forth as people danced around it in drunken merriment. Somewhere, a talented musician had managed to come down from the University as well, playing a deep and rhythmic beat. It punched into the night in a never-ending tune that stood solid as if the guardian of the night’s enthralling dance.

Maia did not need much insistence to join in the fun. The beat kept its own life and the fire followed the loud leader. Someone in the party was playing with fire, for it spat green and blue sparks from time to time to the cheers of those who were watching. The other members made room for Maia, giving her a bit of space as she began to dance as well. It felt good; to sway, to step, to strut and simply cut herself loose. She stopped after just a moment though, not so lost in the glamour to mistake the chanting that had begun.

“Li-ly! Li-ly! Li-ly!”

Maia swore as she pushed her way through the crowd, stumbling on the sifting sand. She had forgotten for a second about the smaller girl, apparently that was all it took for her to get herself in trouble. She was standing on some rock that the sea had coughed up hundred of years ago, swaying to try and keep herself balanced. Her hands were fumbling behind her as she grinned like a loon. Maia hopped onto the rock, hugging the other girl and carrying her down quickly. Lily was much lighter then Maia would have thought, but still swayed when she stood on her own.

“But Ms. Kristel! They were cheering for me!” protested Lily, trying to look sad and failing. The drink and her own emotions conspired to keep her from even pretending to be sad.

“Not now though, just stay with me,” Maia replied with a grin. She looked around, acutely aware of how helpless the raven haired beauty was. It was really nothing, but if someone could put her up to stripping, then she would probably do other things. Maia grabbed Lily’s wrist, tugging it towards the party with a giggle. “Let me show you how to have a fun time without taking off your top.”


** ** **

The sun began to crack the darkness. It climbed slowly, inching forward and painted the sky red. The clouds danced along painted a spectrum of colors, as if inspired by the early forces of the night before. It was now that a figure began to shuffle through Maia’s small bag. The figure rose after a moment, scurrying away and into the retreating darkness.

((Alright, just a quick post. Edits will be made soon enough as always. You know what to do next I believe. Wake up, wings on Maia if you want, so on and so forth. I’ll see you soon. Here’s hoping the next post doesn’t take 7 months.))

[Ataraxis]

Ever since her capture during a clandestine foray into Fallien's heart and her ensuing exile, Lillian had slowly cast away the necessary routines that went hand in hand with life in the Outlander’s Quarters. For one, though still conscientious about her personal safety, Lillian no longer kept a knife sheathed under her pillow – nor a pair beneath her mattress. Nevertheless, she was not one to discard the little things that gave light to her childhood and a smile upon her face. The girl reveled in the modest gems that came with the rise of dawn, in the warmth and wellbeing of its golden breath and in the musical chirrups of the rare few birds to thrive there, at the edge of the desert’s withered reach. No matter what, she had always found a way to delight in the morning’s embrace.

Until this day.

“Oh, the powers that be… why am I still alive?” she groaned in agony, feeling nothing but the mush in her head swell and swell, threatening to burst her skull from the inside. Worse, the incessant caw of gulls were a thousand rakes messily scraping right through her eardrums. Lillian did her best to attenuate the mind-crushing ache, cycling air long and deep, but the pain would not stop throbbing. Head, wreathed in a crown of fire. Thoughts, storming like a shower of mallets over iron rooftops. All the needles in the world, thinking of her brain as a pin cushion.

Tentatively, hesitantly, she cracked an eye open, and the assault of sunlight was acid poured directly into the socket. Curling upon herself, the teenager rolled to the side where she was but mildly shielded by the shadows of palm leaves. Only in the damp coolness of the sand clinging to her skin could she find any measure of relief. Unsure of how much time she had spent there, idle and moaning, wishing to no avail for the pounding in her head to abate, she struggled for another look at a world that was all too bright.

And there but inches away was Maia’s back, sun-kissed and bare save for the red strap of her beach wear… and a set of majestic wings, carefully folded over the young woman as a blanket of angel’s down. Warmed by dappled glows from the gaps in the canopy above, the feathers shone softly, gently, fluttering lightly in the quiet breeze. Lillian stared, saying not a word, wondering if this were tender dream or a hallucination induced by one too many a glass of alcohol. When neither time nor the blinks in between would dispel the illusion, she pondered if a touch would do the trick. Letting her hand crawl across the stretch of sand like a curious but sluggish spider, she nipped a feather by the vane between middle and forefinger.

Then yanked.

“Ow!” came her voice in shrill and hurt; thus did Maia jolt to a wake in a cloud of kicked dust and a muffled shriek of pain. Her wings thrashed about like those of an albatross, trapped and earthbound, drawing haphazard trails and lifting great plumes of sand. Quickly, she found herself upon her knees, a white wing hanging limp upon her lap as she examined the stinging sore spot where a precious feather was now missing. The sonsy blonde looked up, confused and a tear welling up in her eye, until she met the raven-haired girl’s incredulous look. And there they sat, eye in eye, each feeling the weight of awkwardness sinking between them like shifting sands. “This… is a bit hard to explain.”

There was a protracted silence following this statement, broken only by blinks and balmy breezes. That was perhaps the grandest understatement she had heard in a long time. At least, that was what she thought at first. In hindsight, however, she realized that in less than a year, she had seen enough of the world at large to kill any future sentiment of shock and disbelief. “So,” she began with a calm and composed tone, if only slightly slurred. “You’re an angel.” Maia said nothing at that, though she did guard herself with a rather nervous smile.

“I... shouldn’t be surprised,” she went on, taking her time to straighten up and sit adequately. “I’ve seen stranger. In fact, I most likely am stranger.” Not elaborating, Lillian merely nodded to herself. “I should just be happy that this revelation apparently had a sobering effect.” This was true; not only did the ordeal shake off most of the grogginess that had settled on her mind, but she had felt a soothing sensation from the moment she pulled out one of Maia’s feathers. At this thought, she suddenly looked down to her hand. “Oh! Sorry. Uh… here.” Maia smiled clumsily now, but otherwise did not say a word as she was handed back a plucked and ruffled plume.

“In any case, there is... something I meant to tell you yesterday. I’d, um, forgotten until now.” The girl was sober indeed. When the last thick hazes in her mind had been cleared out, the knowledge of Anebrilith’s impending peril came rushing back in a cold, mind-sharpening wave. “I was there at the library, looking for the very books in your bag. I followed you here to tell you that they were not meant for a leisure read. Well, it is said that they... show rather interesting images, but that is not their main purpose.”

“They are artifacts, miss Kristel. Very powerful, sorcerous artifacts, used to destroy kingdoms that thrived eons ago, kingdoms that no longer exist, not even on our oldest records of history.” Lillian paused, and though one could think it was for added effect, she had only done so to quell the sharp pain beneath her forehead. “These books must not remain in the same place any longer. I'm not certain why, but I suspect their authors deemed them too dangerous to be used by the same individual, and so chose to weave a... security measure in each book. As such, when left in close proximity, they will be driven to clash and will categorically annihilate all that stands in between.”

“Isn’t that,” the angel mouthed, blue eyes as wide as the sky overhead, “isn’t that something someone wouldn’t forget to mention?”

“I tried twice, but that burly elf always interrupted me!” Lillian cried out indignantly, but her tone slowly fell to a murmur. “And then you injected me full of alcohol…”

“How could I have known you were messenger to an apocalypse and a teetotaler?” Maia retorted, her eyebrows quirked defensively. “Or an exhibitionist for, that matter.”

“What do you mean an… ah, it doesn’t matter now!” Lillian balled her hands as she squirmed, frustrated to the point that her hangover was looming back in shocking pangs. “Please just separate those books!” Maia, sensing her concern and feeling the urgency of the situation herself, rushed to the spot where she had last seen her leather bag. As she scuttled away, her wings shimmered before growing faint, almost as if fading into her body as a means of concealment – a reasonable decision, as the early birds on the beach might not react to Maia's nature as understandingly as Lillian had. She fell soundless on her knees, digging small mounds before her bag half-buried in sand. She went to undo its clasp, but was curious to see that it had already been opened. Increasingly anxious, she rummaged through the sack, from top to bottom. “They’re… they’re gone. The books have been stolen!”

“Oh will I ever catch a break?” Lillian lamented to herself, and her only answer was the torture of the next morning’s knife, taking another stab at the base of her neck. “Let’s search the beach before anyone leaves. Anyone who is already awake must be questioned first!” Barely had she seen Maia's nod that she was already speeding away, kicking sand with every step, partly out of stress and partly because she was still mildly intoxicated from the previous night.

But she would not give up on finding the books: her exacerbated irritability only made her more stubborn.


~

So bright, the world, like peering through an immaculate screen. The shore was a vast stretch of undulating white. The sea lapped at the coastline, waves of ash made radiant by the rising sun’s blinding halo. A strange sensation rose up through the soles of his feet, as if each grain was living, as if each grain was feeding its life into his body. The world rocked slightly from side to side with each of his clumsy steps, blurring fast as he rolled his neck from left to right. People were sleeping, some lone, some clumped together near the still-sparking bonfires. Others had risen, far faster than he had. They were walking, walking far faster than he was. But not for long, now. Not for long.

One person in particular had caught his attention, of all the beachgoers. No, in truth, he had noticed two, but one of them felt… untouchable. Unapproachable. Already taken. And by whom, he knew all too well. Thus was only one left, and she was strong, this one. She stood not far off, near the line of palms that grew on a small hillock that overlooked the beach. Flustered, hurried, searching just as he was. He felt a twinge near his lips; only later did he realize it was a smile. Yes, she was searching just as he was. But he had found her first.

Close, now. A breath not his own made him shiver. The wind? Yes, the wind. She with the eyes of ice, she with a mane like the feathers of a raven, right within his reach. She turned to face him. Her eyes were stern, brows knit. She spoke, asked of a book. He remembered rows and rows of books, standing dead still upon endless shelves. Oh, he knew of books. He was tired of books. Shaking his head, he felt long wispy strands, curls rolling across his face. Seeing this, she sighed, thanked him, then turned to leave.

Soon. Only a touch. His hand was on her shoulder. So much more than the scorch of the sands, so much more than the balm of the breeze. It was the softness of a woman. And with but a thought, she would now be his.

Strange. She turned, gaze glacial. Pressure in his hand, pressure in his mind, like running against a typhoon. Then pain, immense pain struck his mental barriers like a bolt from the blue. Somehow, he was pushed back from the gates of her psyche. Her eyes were aflame in cold fire, frigid daggers that bit deep into him before turning away, one last time. She was not his.

He looked down at his hand, open and empty. There, colorless currents suddenly sparked into existence, vaguely outlining the shape of a book before they vanished into a twinkling wisp of white. The twinge again. He smiled.

Not yet.

[Maia]

The book was missing.

It was curious how Maia's mind could only really focus on that one thing. She didn't notice if anything else in her bag was missing, nor did she care the slightest. The money was just money, nothing that would impact her in any real way. The bag itself, her extra clothes, and everything else seemed to pale in comparison. She cursed the drink she had the night before, and for not taking better watch of the book. Unlike her little friend, her mind was already sharp and without any pain. It was an odd side effect of regeneration and one that let the girl indulge in what she wished, whenever she wished it. There were always repercussions though, and this was the worst for some reason.

"Oh bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger," she swore as she dumped out her bag onto the hand and quick scooped everything back in. She tossed the bag to the side, all the better to aid her as she checked the sand itself. She dug quickly, little clumps of sand tossed frantically as she searched around her book. It seemed unlikely, but there was a chance is was just kicked under some sand. There was no luck around the book, but luck was not entirely gone.

She had stood to try and get a better look around her situation. It was unlikely, but she was quickly becoming desperate to find it. But there was a small bit of red poking out from under some sand not too far away, much to the girl's delight. She almost skipped over, picking up the Red Pharos and cluthing it to her chest with a goofy grin on her face. How the book managed to get so far away from her bag escaped her, as did why there was a pair of shorts covering part of it.

"Lily? You there?" Maia asked as she looked around. She held the book tight, dusting off some of the sand from the cover as she stumbled her way across the soft sand. It seemed a bit heavier then when Maia realized it, but that just might have been the mental weight of its power. It was hard to believe that such a light hearted book could destroy the world. "Hey Lily, I found one of them!"


~

The girl was strange. She seemed so unaware of what was happening when even the animals were beginning to flee. And yet, everything seemed so difficult. Her mind was an open book, where everything was availble to see and nothing was sacred. Yet it was so messy, so disorginized. There was little He could find that He needed and He could barely enter into the her mind at all.

Everything he did to push deep met with little results and now He knew that His enemy was here. The being contemplated His course of action. His enemy was out there, beyond His power and was probably plotting for a way to get free. taking the girl's mind, even for a time would be wrong, but the alternitave was war too worse to contemplate. He began to work closer and closer to the girl. The great enemy was craft and would find a host soon; if He was not ready, then all would be lost.

[Ataraxis]

The librarian had hurried back upon the angel’s summons, and though her expression was wild with glee, the emotion was but half-hearted. Maia had recovered on of the mythical books, the Red Pharos from the carmine leather of its cover, but much to her dismay, Lillian’s own search had been fruitless. Of the half a dozen morning larks seen strolling on the dawn-lit beachside, none had given her a satisfying response, and one even had the gall to touch her, no doubt with lewd intentions in mind. This was, quite simply, the most aggravating morning of her life.

“At least we have one good news,” she said with a sigh, stopping at the woman’s left for a closer peek at the artifact. The author’s name had been gouged out of the hardback cover by a crude knife of some sort. The damage seemed… old. Yet, the Unseen Nexus mentioned no such peculiarity. “I am not… clear on the range of the security wards, but it must not exceed a few feet. The books have been rotting away in that library for centuries as shelf-neighbors. There also seems to be a time delay, since nothing happened while they were in your bags. Maybe it only triggers when both are active or… used.”

Uneasy, she rubbed foot to ankle, dusting off the lodged sand in her toes. The conjecture troubled her; how exactly were these artifacts activated? All along, she had gone on the assumption that the lines in the books were spells or some sort, or that upon finishing one, the reader would be awoken to arcane lores. But no, these were not spell-books or items of self-bettering. These were weapons, powerful catalysts to the inherent forces of nature, ancient conduits of inordinate destruction. Hence her troubled mind: what if they had already begun their activation?

“Maia, we need to hide the Pharos somewhere, somewhere far. Now.” Strong waves crashed against the sandy shores, carrying off silt and pebbles in their undertow. Maia stood in transfixed silence, and Lillian could not guess what was transpiring beyond those sea-blue eyes.

“Alright, I’ll take care of finding someplace safe. But… is there any danger in reading on?”

“From what I have seen, your reading it does not seem to have any incidence on the unleashing of its power. The text seems to be more of a lure, a façade to make it look more innocuous than, say, a staff encrusted with otherworldly gems, ten-foot long swords so fraught with power they leak glowing energy – such and such.”

“Well in that case, I’ll find a reclusive place to read it,” Maia said, her voice laced with relief. “I very much doubt that a thief would come close to the person they wronged, let alone while carrying the very object that they stole.”

“Then I would rather you hurry,” Lillian replied, the worry evident in her admonition. Though she more than understood the zeal of avid readers, that constricting knot in her stomach would not untangle before the Pharos was far from this beach, from this port city – from Raiaera, even. “To be sure, I will keep looking. I at least want to know where the other bomb is.”

The librarian smiled nervously before turning to leave. There was guilt in her staggered steps, as if she struggled under the weight of a crime. Not of one she had committed, but of the one she was considering at this very moment.

The day was still early, and the nightingales slept. What better time to search their nests?


~


“You see that girl there? Pretty little thing looks poised, doesn’t she?” The man sitting at his right was speaking, slanted eyes following the raven-haired girl with a glimmer of hunger, an expression he thought he understood, considering his own appetite for possession. Yet he was mistaken; what they craved for were different kinds of control.

“But if you’d seen her last night, you wouldn’t believe your jolly old eyes.” There came a hoot from the man as he fell to his back, resting his head on an arm with wonder in his dark eyes. “Whatever she drank, it made her lose her mind, and lose it good. The quiet ones, I tell you, they’re the loosest. Would’ve taken it off if it weren’t for that blonde… but that one, she’s also a righteous piece of– ”

He did not listen anymore, deaf to those lascivious ramblings. The sun was taking its first true breath, casting rays of shine to warm the shores – and as it breathed to life, so had he, for he had heard a most wonderful detail from that love-starved creature to his side. Lost… her mind.

He felt that twinge that was a smile, but there was also a new sensation, like an uplifting in his chest, in that thing they called a heart. Hope. Yes, there is hope yet.

His hand shot for the man’s throat, clamping vise grips that stifled the surprise out of his screams. That stifled the scream itself. The colorless currents again, coursing from his outstretched forearm to the thrashing being, jolting the eyes into shock. Then he fell to the ground, hand still clutched around that that scrawny pole of bone and flesh, limp as the world darkened.

And then it was bright again. There was a familiar hand, clasped tight around his neck. Without emotion, he plucked it off and dropped it to the sand, next to that flaccid body at his left. Feeling… adjusted, he drew himself to his new feet.

Hope. That word made him grin like a child. He would enquire about that drink.