"Vel'bol faer zhah nindol!?" the boy cried.

Kor truly pitied him. He was sure that the boy had been so taken by the naked succubus' form that he'd never notice that he'd never touched her. Kor wondered, if as a young Ghauntyrr'Stra, so new to the Kyorl and lacking so much wisdom, if he would have fallen for an illusion as simple as desire. He was sure that would have. Lust was the downfall of the young, ignorance that of a woman. He was staring beyond the cadet now, at the crumpled body of the Drowess that lay where he had placed her. His brows narrowed.

"Dos inbal morfel dosst ilhar ji numl. Il orn neitar kyorl ilta wiu doera natha nesst, jhal dos orn kyorl faer maristo. L'faer nindel zhah wun l'Takrin..."

His voice was so soft that the young soldier could hardly believe that it had been a threat. As the child reached for his sword, Kor was there. His hand grabbed the younger man's wrist, ripping it away as easily as one would rip thin paper from an old manuscript. His other hand grabbed the sword, and pulled it from it's scabbard. Later, when the boy was indeed walking through the wasteland of the afterlife, the wind would come to him, and he would think - for all eternity - of how it sounded like his traitor blade sneaking through the leather scabbard. Kor held the young Kyorl cadet's weapon, and the boy paled visibly.

Despite the fact that at that very moment, a small finch came swooping in from the clouds to try and claw at Kor's eyes, his strike was true. The perfect violet of the boys eyes was darkened by an expanding pupil, his pain visible on his face as he crumpled to the ground. Removing the blade with a wet squelch, Kor shook it at the bird, turning from the cadet as he struggled to stay conscious for his last few minutes of life.

Kor paused as he stood once more over Ghauntyrr'Stra's body. His hand moved up to rub at a sting on his cheek where the bird had managed to scratch him with her small talons. It wasn't even deep enough to bleed, and yet it was that scratch that angered him beyond finding out that her power over illusions still held true, beyond her attempt at betrayal. Holding out his hand, as if seeking her, he called out her name. Before the last rebounding "Queen" could fade across the countryside, the bird was fluttering down to his hand. Her small beady eyes glared at him, her emerald and obsidian plumage ruffled upwards in frustration.

"So..." he spat, his anger in evidence with every word. "It seems that you still must obey me, even after you take up arms against my life." He turned his head away, staring down the road. They were closer than he had thought, for here and there the telltale landmarks on the path were striking up memories of a place that he had refused to visit for longer than this lifetime would atone to. He flung out his hand, sending the bird up into the air where her wings were aided with the wind to take her into the clouds. In the moonlight, he could see a faint shadow wind down the path and knew that she had gone ahead.

Perhaps to call up guards to lie in wait... he thought bitterly as he pulled Ghauntyrr'Stra's prone from again onto his shoulder, burdened now with the sword in his hand. After a moment, he threw it down, kicking the hilt towards the body that had once owned it. Was in need of steel, but he could count on one hand few other places he'd be less willing to gain it from. His hand now free, it stroked down Ghauntyrr'Stra's thigh, marveling at the material of her dragon skin suit. At the arch of her back and the curve of her legs, the moonlight shimmered as if on water, but all else fell into illusion, as if she were just part of him, and the world around them.

"Dos tois ichl ulnin." he said quietly, and then once again went on his way through the hills of Alerar, towards an open grave that had been laying in wait for thirty years now. But as he finally turned the last round in the path, and past within the rusted archway, the gate already flung open and creaking just barely back and forth in the light breeze, he found that he was not the only one in Do'afin cemetery tonight.

Out of Character:
What magic is this!?

You have made your mother so sad. She will never see her boy become a man, but you will see magic tonight. The magic that is in the Desert...

You died too soon.