That is...if I ever get back... The last words he wrote in his journal reminding him that there was always a chance that he was stuck here for eternity. That there was no way back. That this entire scheme was something fished out by that hair-brained mage Zaigen. He emptily sighed since he knew that moaning about it would be futile. He closed the book up tight and decided to have a wander around, perhaps finding something alog the way. He headed on any direction that he could see a path and veered off towards it, not thinking about where it would lead.

To say that he was surprised when he found a ruined city before his eyes would likely have been an understatement. This was, after all, his first realisation that other materials had been used to make their buildings, at least in the past. These had long since lost their build, debris and mucus filling the crevices of the walls, all manner of insect and rodent wandering around among them. Aros felt slightly sick over this, the fact that he had to boot a rat away from him - about 200 feet away from him - not helping matters in the slightest. He simply ran through, clutching his clothing and running as fast as he could to escape the stench.

Thankfully for him the buildings further up were not so bad. In face, for some reason or other, none of them seemed to venture here. It was only about 70 feet away from where the rat was kicked but it was quiet. Not even a spider crawled around the walls. Curious, Aros looked around him and wondered where he was exactly. For the briefest of moments he thought he felt something nearby. His battle instincts awakened, he sharply turned, the two-handed weapon firm in his grasp, facing the direction of what may have been there. But as he rose, he noticed that there was nothing there. He narrowed his eyes to try and help his vision, but he could see nothing. Not even a sound.

-How strange...- He thought to himself. -I'm sure I felt something...- He sat himself down, pondering this conundrum, but he was kept alert by some other footsteps approaching. These seemed to be someone else's though - and not like the other ones - so he remained still, waiting for them to approach. -Perhaps the person could tell me where I am and what is perhaps going on here...- He thought about that comment for a moment. -...as long as the freak doesn't go chargig at me with whatever he has to hand. Then I'd have to kill them.- With this in mind, he continued to wait.

It was quiet. The light form the moon was dim, making her skin seem paler than it usually was. The trees were thick and dense, sheltering her in shadows. Shadows followed everyone, but they followed their children the most, like a worried hen clucking over her chicks. It seemed almost silly to compare the silent, fluid, beautiful night to a squawking, smelly chicken, when she thought about it. But then again, the night would shelter its children with its wings, holding them close and never letting them see the light.

But you always want what you can't have.

Cailean hated the night. She hated how the shadows followed her wherever she went. She hated her pale complexion, and she hated how the shadows enveloped her in a hug, like an old friend. She hated the absolute stillness of it as she crept through half-open windows and slid a knife across the windpipe of the sleeping victim. She hated killing. And yet, it gave her an odd sort of pleasure and joy. It made her giggle like a child being rewarded a new toy.

She liked the sun, which always greeted her with a blinding light, as if trying to burn a hole through her. She was always out during the day. She'd met other children of the dark and looked at them with disgust. She'd seen them hiding in their shadows, as if hoping the sun would be swallowed by the shadows. Being a child of the shadows and night was a choice, Cailean supposed. It seemed that Cailean's choice was made long ago, back to the time she could not remember. She wished she hadn’t. Though her mind may be filled with shadows, she liked looking sunny on the outside, if not on the inside.

She may not have been young, but she acted like it. Her freakish pink hair had often outcasted her, but she did not mind. She liked her fake hair that color. It was her favorite color after all. Silly, childish things like that. She laughed and giggled like a little girl. Her steps were not elegant and silent like those of a practiced killer's. They were clumsy, though rarely misplaced. She was a child in mind and body, if not in a sense of time. Still, did it matter? If she never had to grow up, then she never had to face the consequences of her actions.

She giggled, looking up at the ruins. For a moment, she could almost seem them in her mind’s eye, whole and magnificent. She laughed and skipped through the tall pillars that marked the entrance. She could feel the moon smiling on her. She giggled again, listening to it echoed in the eerie silence, and the sound of her sandals slapping the ground seemed all too loud.

A rat screeched as it skittered across her path. The magnificence seemed to dim as she saw the rot and bugs. The moss and fungi growing and the weeds sprouting through the cracks, weaving tendrils across the once smooth walls. She pulled one of the weeds out, deciding it had a nice flower. She tucked it absently behind her ear and continued onward. Her steps slowed eventually, no longer enjoying the ruined city. It seemed a sad and pitiful place.

"Such and odd place." She mused aloud, expecting no answer.

As he listened more attentively, he could almost feel the footsteps approaching, seeming to be that of a younger person. The mind pondered as he tried to figure out what a child was doing in such a place but he did not show his concern upon his face. After all, who is he to say that children are defenceless? He's met a few 16 year olds who have evidently had more skill in combat than he first saw, two of them were women. -To think that I even liked one of them...- He passes comment to himself. He continues to listen as he hears the feminine voice of the approaching girl.

"Such and odd place."

-Indeed it is...- Aros agreed as he turned to see who it was that came forward. -But everything is strange to me right now. I'm not from around here...- He shook his head and sheathed his sword. If this was the source of his suspicious acts then there was no need to be showing off sharp instruments to them. -And if there are any on her person, I only need to use my hands...- Aros concluded, looking upwards to the moon, the light seeming to give off a solemn but somewhat comforting glow. Aros thought nothing much of it as he looked around the ruins again just to make sure that they were alone. It seemed they were but who could tell in such a mysterious place...

Keeping silent he wondered if this girl approaching him would even notice that he's there or if she would pass by without a second thought. It never bothered him as he thought about it but it did leave him to consider the fact that he would have to speak sometime along the line. That, in itself, was the concerning part. Speaking was a useless form of ommunication, after all. Understood by few misread by many and often breeds no results at the end of it. Aros hated speech but he always found it in him to converse if the situation needed it.

It was cold out, she realized. The night was often cold, of course. She never really paid much attention to the cold before. However, she was not wearing her usual heavy cloak and the chill gave her Goosebumps. Her sandals hardly provided the heat needed to keep her toes warm, and her fingertips were a bit numb as she ran them over the surface of a crack in the stone.

She licked her lips, as they were getting dry. She supposed she should be more wary and suspicious of her surroundings. Had she been looking for someone, she may have found them. However, she was not. It was quiet and solitary. It made her feel lonely and comforted at once. Of course, this annoyed her. She hated feeling confused, and she hated feeling inferior.

The night made her feel inferior, with this vastness and freedom to roam the stars at will. This place made her confused, it reminded her of another time that she didn't like remembering, but then again, she hardly liked remembering anything. She'd never done anything particularly spectacular in her life; nothing had ever happened that required remembrance. She couldn’t even remember her first kill.

She sat on the fallen column. She knew her pretty dress would be ruined, but frankly, she didn't care at the moment. She kicked off her sandals, one of them landing conveniently beside her, while the other flew off towards another column, making a loud smacking sound. She winced, listening to it echo. As it faded, she picked absently at some moss growing on her bench, trying not to get too cold.

"Hello, Mister Rat." She greeted as she saw yet another of the dirty little rodents run by. After a moment of silence, and listening to her voice bouncing off the broken palace, she realized that it was much too quiet. Was someone else here? Why was there no other animal life? She frowned to herself, then wriggled her toes before slipping it back into her one sandal. She could fetch the other later.

"It's awfully rude to hide from people." She said to no one in particular. And, well, if no one was there, it'd be just as well. At least she'd be talking to herself with no one around to listen.

Aros glanced around once more, seeing the girl seat herself down not too far away from him. He left her to her thoughts and turned his head to the sky again, a passing glance to his hands showing the dark complexion of his skin. It made him wonder as to how so many people were so different and yet so alike at once. He then stammered at a light chuckle that barely passed his lips at the irony of his thoughts - that he would even think that he was like other people. The people he was like were a family of noble and loyal warriors (or loyal to their cause, at least) but his brother betrayed the family and now he is the only one left of them. What is a family line worth with a murderer among them?

He was suddenly distracted as a sudden smack-like sound echoed just beside him, his head sharply turning to the source of the sound. He glanced around to see what exactly had caused the sound but only found some slipper-like object beside it, its sole facing upwards. -I guess that's the girls...- He thought as he passed off a whispering sigh. Rising up off his stone seat, he bent over to pick up the footwear and turned to look for the girl. She was sat down quietly, looking at some creature. She did seem nervous...Aros figured that he would have to be comforting in some part. Not exactly his expertise...

"It's awfully rude to hide from people."

-I'm not hiding from anyone...- He comments to himself but he keep silent. Instead he walks towards the figure and noticed another rat scurrying past him hurriedly as if the rat thought he was death coming for it. Lett ing it pass this time unharmed, Aros walked up to the girl and offered her the sandal back to her. He made no sound, guessing that it was best that he said nothing about himself or why he was here. As far as she would know, he's here to think. At least...that was what Aros hoped she would think. But even Aros knew that not everything goes to plan in this world. So as he turned back he waited to see if the girl would respond. It wouldn't matter to him if she didn't anyway - keeping quiet was his preference.

((OOC: I'm so sorry it took so long to get back to you. I was banned from the computer.))

Of course, she sighed a bit as she heard her voice echoing off the long rotted walls. Well, who did she think she was kidding? She wasn't one of those marauders who roamed the forests and dark alleyways with amazing combat skills and sixth sense. Sometimes she was right, sometimes she was wrong. She lived by her own rules, she supposed. She did whatever she wanted whenever. She had no noble sense of honor or morals, nor did she care to acquire them, after all, they seemed to be great hindrances.

She was not a great killer, and not world-renowned for her expertise in that area, though she was one of the best spies around, though it was hardly from skill. Despite what they say, hard work of a failure will never be superior to those with the proper genetics, especially if they work hard, too. It wasn't practice or will or effort. It was just something you're born with. So, she was born like this, she was a good actress, and she did a fair job of pumping for information, but one can almost guarantee there's a motor mouth somewhere in every castle, always eager to impress with their knowledge.

So, of course she was surprised when a man appeared out of the shadows. She didn't have that sense, just a few lucky guesses and some experience under her belt. She opened her mouth to say something rude, because, well, it had been rude to hide, and she felt embarrassed that she had not known he was there. She had the face of a child's, but the pride and arrogance of an old man. However, when he offered her back her sandal, she let her mouth snap shut once more, eyeing him suspiciously.

It briefly occurred to her that it was very un-child-like, which was her usual role to play, to act as such. Children believed everything they were told. Cailean was always very pleased to see how good she was at using the wide-eyed innocent gape children used when they were told something they thought impossible.

"Thank you, good sir." She said, smiling a wide, innocent smile, though if one looked at her eyes, it was truly not. "That was very kind of you," she continued. "But my mother says not to talk to strangers and that I shouldn't accept things from them." Of course, she had no mother to speak of, but she gave him another pretty smile. When she practiced this particular smile in the mirror, she noticed that it reminded her of a candied plum laced with poison. Sweet but deadly. It took a lot of effort to hide the lack of sincerity behind her smiles, and frankly, she was in no mood to try. Maybe the darkness would help hide her.

((OOC: That's alright. It happens.))

The smile had seemed a little unusual to him as he looked upon it, but then he was looking at it under moonlight and this place was out of the ordinary to him. It was only fair that he thought that, he evaluated, and left it at that. The following words, though, became something of a sinful disgust towards the response. Aros sighed with audible discontent and a hint of anger and looked at the slipper...or whatever it was.

"Well if your mother didn't want you to have it back..."

Without another word he threw the slipper to his left - the girl's right - and walked off, heading back to where he seated himself prior to the racket made by the girl. -Now I see why my auntie hated kids...- He thought to himself. -Always listened at the wrong time and never listened at the right time. So obviously annoying...how can anyone manage the little brats?- Another sigh passes his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. -I'm so glad to not have my own to worry about. I'd probably kill them before I take care of them, the annoying things...-

He grumbled on in his dissatisfaction, hopefully wishing that someone who knows better than to tick him off would pass on by to perhaps give him some help and guidance. He came here to find his brother and stop him from going mad. If he doesn't find him soon, Aros felt that he would start killing a lot more others in the meantime. Patience was definitely not on his side this night.

Cailean frowned at him. He was awfully rude. She could hardly say she was the most polite person around, but she'd been almost nice to him. She snorted childishly, glancing over to where her discarded sandal lay. She didn't particularly need it; seeing as she could get another easily. But, as it was, she was in the middle of the forest, in the middle of some age-old ruins. She was in no position or location to find another sandal, and who knew what had been crawling over the ground these past hundred years?

She sighed, hopping over on one foot, her other slapping the cracked tiles loudly. At one point she almost fell, landing haphazardly on a jutting break, but with a wild swing of her arms, and putting her other foot down on the cold, disgusting ground, managed not to. She found that she bruised rather easily and grace wasn't exactly one of her strong points. She found that she often woke with many bruises from falling out of the tree she'd been sleeping in or something of that nature.

When she retrieved her sandal, she turned and trotted after the strange man. Strange, strange, strange. What a strange place with was. She supposed it shouldn't have been surprising to find strange people here, but he could hardly live in these conditions, considering he was vastly cleaner than anything in the area. Though, he was still pretty dirty.

"Hey, Mister." She said, her steps loud and echoing, her voice high and giggly. "You're not gonna leave me here, are you?"

She was surprised he didn't know who she was. After all, there couldn't be too many twelve year-olds with pink hair running about all on their own. Than again, she'd claimed to have family... Of course, pink hair was still unique. She didn't know whether to be pleased or offended. She always had fun with people who were ignorant of her. Sadly, she found that there were many such people. She never knew what to make of them, though. Those who contacted her were always greedy, dirty scumbags. Those who had heard of her were either the former or victims.

"S'matter, Sir?" She asked, grinning as she skipped ahead, walking backwards quickly, keeping herself a few steps ahead of him. It was rather challenging with her short stride compared to his long one. "Don't you like children?"

Aros sighed once more as he heard the voice of the girl trailing behind him. -Oh, what now, damn it?!- He thought to himself without turning to even care about what she wanted him for. He figured that she would tell him - and that she did. Companionship. He tried his best to ignore her but then he realised that she was on front of him, rambling on about how she thought that he didn't like children. Well...he didn't, no. But was he going to tell her the truth?

"Yes, I do at the moment, now if you'll excuse me..."

With a rushed pace Aros sped off in another direction, an attempt to find some solitude and silence. Away from nagging, ungrateful little brats who only want to annoy people. Then he left himself with two options, which were that he either walk off and find somewhere else to find out the trail of his brother or he could hope - hope - that the girl would go away and that someone useful would come along. Someone who knew the whereabouts of his brother.

Hoping that by now he had escaped her aggrevating grasp, he seated himself down, looking upwards to the moon, agitated by the lack of information on his brother, the lack of knowledge of where he was, the lack of...well...everything. The only things he didn't lack are healing skills, a sword and a journal. Oh...and some strange sheet of paper, its text illegible to read. He hardly thought about that paper, though, being more focused on what he had to understand rather than what he didn't.

((OOC: This is added since the date far exceeds one month.))

He couldn't put it off his mind. He had to find his brother, no matter what. He could not stop now to take a break or anything - the only choiuce he had was to fight on through and find him. He rose up, turning back one last time to the figure before looking away and heading out of the barren, beaten town that once was, deciding that his search was not appropriate here, for this was not a place that he would wander to. He then realised that he was close to the shoreline and so he sat himself to record in his journal once more.