It was quiet, no more than a whisper of a bird's chirp met Amaranth's ears, the sound of the trees rustling in the breeze was more a memory than a sound. Her feet seemed to barely touch the rocky ground, her white dress trailing behind her, but never becoming soiled. She seemed as a ghost might, windswept, barely there, floating just above the ground as if some invisible shield was below her bare feet.The sunlight became shards of gold as she entered the dense pine forest at the base of the mountains. It crowned her in light, her straw colored hair becoming a cascade of golden threads that gleamed as bright as her black eyes. The sweet smelling pines brushed up against her bare arms, their sticky aroma filling her nose.

The forest ended a few yards ahead, her path carved into the ground and paved with golden sunlight where the canopy parted. Amaranth ran for the end of the forest, smiling in expectance, black jewel eyes gleaming in anticipation. As she broke through the trees, her bare feet stopped, and finally they touched ground, though if only for a second, gracing it to steady herself, reassure herself that the ground was still there, that this wasn't an illusion. Gravel met the naked soles of her feet, cold, sharp, and unforgiving, children of their equally harsh mother mountain. Her thin body seemed to slump, shoulders falling, as though the air had become heavier, and it's pressure was too much to bare. Black eyes glittered hopefully, searching around, as she turned, looking back at the forest. This was the right place, but where was her home?

Cautiously, she took a few steps forward, letting her feet barely graze the gravelly ground. She felt the rock and stone beneath her, felt it's age and remembered it from her childhood, smelled the pine, it's aromatic beauty; surely, this was the right place. A ledge was not but forty yards ahead, it's lip covered in trees whose bark was covered in mosses and lichens, pillars of white and green. A house once stood there, and instead of trees for pillars it had marble, crafted by the hands of masters, and a roof- it had a beautiful flat roof too-and many floors that she'd find herself exploring, and windows of the finest glass, and...

And it was gone. Amaranth ran, her feet touching the ground totally now, the sharp shards of rock digging into her heels. Tears streamed down her eyes from a mixture of them being hit with wind as she sped towards the ledge, and the intense pain of the rocks slicing at her bare feet. She was amazingly agile, and was there in no time, though her heels bled profusely. She ignored the pain, walking across the smooth slab of rock that'd once held a house, but was now a lonely ledge. She could see the outline of the four stone gates that'd one encircled it, now overgrown with weeds and moss. A few bricks that'd once comprised her home were scatterred about, worn and charred. The bad men, she thought, still labeling them with the name she'd been taught as a child. She knew, of course, that they were really berzerkers her father's family had been terrorized by for ages. They had done this...After she left at the age of fifteen to find her father...

She barely felt herself fall to her knees. Why did I leave? she thought, I should've been here. I was the lady of the house...It was my right to protect it... She wondered what had become of Aunt Ariel and the servant girls. What of the meek family that'd been there to support her? And the father she couldn't find? And mother's grave- what of that? Pilledged. All of it. Stolen and broken.Numbly, she sat on the stump of one of the great collumns that'd held her house up. They were only but a memory now, like the wind in the trees, or the chirping of birds...

Had Amaranth not been so eager to get there, she might've known she was being watched. They had seen it all with laughing eyes and heart of contempt. They had seen her feet torn by the rocks until they were raw, watched tears fall as she realized the fate that had fallen upon her family, chortling silently to themselves. Berzerkers, watching the child of that terrible wind that'd drove them out of the towns they had claimed, and taken from them their prized posession- Norial the avariel. They would've gotten more than her weight in gold had that stupid genasi not fallen head over heels for her and spawned that whispy ghost of a wench. With fire in their eyes, the had fallowed, silently, hiding amongst the caverns, rubble, and niches the mountain had made for them. Not him. Not that blasted genasi.

Amaranth felt cold metal on her neck. A hand had soon taken a fistful of her golden hair and tugged her upright, turning her to face an expansive man with a wiry black beard, beady black eyes, and tanned skin. Her eyes wide, she struggled to get from his grasp, knocking the blade from his hand in one fluid movement. He still held her hair, but she was soon free of him again, and she pushed away, running in whatever direction her feet would move. Unfortunately, they were still injured and in dazed confusion had taken her towards the edge of the ledge. She stopped nearly falling over the lip of the overhang, when a rough hand violently grabbed her neck, strangling her. She tried to be free of him, but he was too strong, too vast in size, and he dwarfed her in comparison; her feet could not aid her, for they still stung sharply and were swollen and raw. He held her over the edge, mercilessly laughing as she flailed about.

"What now will you do my precious breeze?" he spat, a smile pulling his lips away to reveal crooked yellow teeth. He shook her by her neck,"Fly, fly away, precious breeze. Fly, fly, away!"

Her head spun, but in dizzy desperation, Amaranth managed to scream," HELP! Help! He...lp...please."

Taren's eyes darted to the opening door, taking in the two newcomers. Swords drawn and bloody, it looked as if they had done quite a bit of killing to get here, but they were here. He could hear the sounds of battle all around him, but the large fights hadn't seemed to get to this specific area yet. Carzal and Zuka must have battled their way ahead of the others. For a brief moment, his mind flashed back to the conversation they had once had before Taren had gotten here. Zuka was looking for something, that was all Taren could recall. But all thoughts fled from his mind, and he quickly acted. Before Zuka and Carzal would even react to seeing him, Taren would already be flying into motion.

It would be simple. Only five seconds of the power would be needed, and the exhaustion could be handled. I would probably go away after a short while too. Eyes would blaze red, staring directly at the two warriors. The demon that had been watching Taren had only stared dumbly as the two had made their dazzling entrance, but now he had taken a step toward them, attention completely off of Taren. Who should be afraid of a mere shadow, that was the demon's logic.

Bad logic.

From underneath the clothing and armor of the beast, a single tendril of shadow would shoot out of the front, looking like a black spike. The demon would freeze, the black spike having started from the BACK. Suddenly, in an explosion of blood and gore, several more spikes would ram out of him from all directions, completely goring him through. After about a second of this, all the spikes that had been formed would twist around for another go about, slamming their sharp tips into his spasming body once more.

In yet another second, the body would fall limp to the ground, the black spikes simply melting away into normal shadows. Blood was splattered all around the body, and several neat holes could be seen, displayed on the head, chest, and legs. It had been a quick and brutal death. The red glow in Taren's eyes faded, his connection with the Shadow Plane sealed off once again, and he simply waited. No more demons for the moment. Exhaustion battered through his body, the side-effect of having a completely open magical link to the shadow plane taking place. One cold word would echo out, void of all emotion.

"Hello."

This is his memory, Fallen one. This is your fate. You WILL die.

For he WILL kill you.

Snapping up from the rocky ground, Ethstar pulled himself into a sitting position. Staring at the ground, short and rapid gasps of air could be heard, and his chest would be seen heaving. Several golden leaves had managed to fly their way down to his once sleeping form, and he now brushed them off absentmindedly as he tried to calm himself from the dream. They were coming more often now, each one ending with the very same words as the last. You will die. Blinking rapidly, he lifted a hand from his clothes to brush at his forehead. As his hand came away from the skin, his gaze was pulled to the tanned skin. Beads of sweat shone within the sunlight, and the fingers themselves were shaking with fear. He stared at the hand for a few more moments, then somehow managed to pull himself up from the ground.

He had slept here last night, knowing of no other place. After his encounter in the tomb, he had left to head back to Taras, hoping to find the rift in reality that had pulled him to these mountains in the first place. And of course, his efforts had ended with him having to walk the distance. Muttering some random curse under his breath, he lifted his gaze to the sky while stretching. It was a beautiful day, a single beam of the glorious sun coming down to highlight his beautiful features. A few strands of sweaty black hair fell in front of his light blue eyes, thankfully shading them from the bright light. A few loud snaps and pops would be heard as he moved his muscles in every which direction, and then finally let them fall down in rest. Long lashes fell down in yet another blink, actually staying closed for a few precious moments. Simply standing tall, he let his ears soak in the sounds of the surrounding area. The sweet and charming chirp of the local birds reached his thoughts, along with the slight whistling of a gentle breeze, and the nearby scream of a female girl.

Wait a moment. His eyes snapping open, he quickly focused. His natural angelic nature automatically assumed the role of the protector, and he let his mind get caught up in the attitude. There. That direction. A look of worry crossing his face, he took off, not even bothering to hide his angelic speed. Onwards he flew, gracefully jumping rotten and fallen logs, weaving his way through the different obstacles that the forest had managed to place in his path. In only a few seconds, he had managed to easily stumble across the scene that held the lady in distress. He had been quite close. With a single sweep of the eyes, he took in the whole situation, and acted. Moving with a speed that transcended human comprehension, he shifted like a blur in the direction of the two locked in their deadly embrace.

Not a single step could be heard, but perhaps the lady would see him coming. His face was a picture of worry and hinted with slivers of desperation, the idea that he might not get there in time crossing his mind more then once. It was easy to tell which person held the title of good, and which held the title of evil. Strangely enough, even though his boots were dashing across the surface of sharp rocks, still not a single sound would be heard. In mere moments, he was directly behind the rogue. Using the quickest maneuver he could think of at the moment, he simply placed one hand under each armpit of the man. With a surprised squawk, the man forgot his sadistic game, and looked over his shoulder.

That was his mistake. If he would have let go, he would have had her dead. Instead, he would find himself lifted off of his feet with inhuman strength. A loud growl would emit from the Fallen Angel’s lips, and his great heave would send the man up in the air a few feet. With yet another growl, he would take a leap backwards, pulling the man and girl along with him. Snapping his arms down, he would send the great hulk down from his high perch, and slamming into the jagged rocks of the ground. The force of the slam was incredible, driving the back of the man deep into the stone knives that littered the ground. The lady would be left relatively unharmed, the body of her attacker kept under her to provide a decent amount of cushioning.

Ethstar himself would simply stand there after bringing the man crashing down, his cloak fluttering around him from the light breeze. Angel wings were not evident, the actual objects having been shape shifted into his back. He almost always kept them like that now, afraid of someone wandering upon him and realizing what he truly was. But his eyes… they were what would draw attention. Great, intense orbs, with extremely dilated pupils and the white/blue color thinned around the black dot in a mere ring. A barely seeable ring. A cold intensity radiated from those eyes, not yet paying the girl attention. Merely focused upon the great rogue, who was now quite unconscious.

It was then that everything around Amaranth seemed to become a fog, a blurry grey haze. She seemed lost in a swirling white-grey fog, colors flashing up now and then, but falling away as though they were never there. Desperately, she tried to make the colors return, tried to regain line and form. All efforts seemed to be in vain, for she could barely even feel the berzerker's hand around her slender neck, but she was granted what she dazedly thought might be her last sight- An angel. Was it her mother? Dearly, she hoped.

"Amaranth?" a voice cooed," Amaranth?"

"She's coming around, I think," softly chimed in another voice.

Sight was blurry at first, her vision bleary and streaked like seeing through freshly rained upon glass. It came back to her in an instant. Her mother and father werebowed over her, heads crowned in golden light, giving their beautiful heads halos wrought of glimmering bronze. Her father's pale, gaunt features looked relieved, grey eyes looking upon his daughter fondly. He was so noble; his features showed a man of value, a hero. She wanted dearly to be like him. Her mother stood beside him, their heads touching. Her golden skin was offset by her black hair and black eyes. She had a round, elegant face like Amaranth, and Amaranth had the same black eyes that looked like two round, wet, gleaming pebbles. And her mother's wings- How beautiful! They were stretched out in pure white splendor, as though to guard her daughter from whatever might seek to harm her.

"Amaranth," said a voice, colder, unlike the first two. Confused, she looked from parent to parent; both were still smiling, and neither of them had moved their lips.

"Won't you fly? Fly! Fly! Fly, Amaranth!" said the cold, fractured voice in a mocking tone. Amranth wanted to scream in terror, but all she could do was look at her parent's smiling faces.

"FLY!"

Amaranth's eyes opened wide, as she gasped for air. Her feet stung, bleeding still, and her toes had become numb. The soles were swollen and raw, slimy and wet with half-dried blood. From her eyes streamed hot tears; she could taste their saltiness as they seeped into the crack of her lips. A bruise stretched across her neck, and turning her head seemed to be an impossible feat she didn't dare to attempt. Her first thought was to flee, was to run, but she found she could not will her body to move. Paralyzed in fear and pain, she drew her attention towards a battle raging that she had only just come to realize.

He was beautiful, black hair, and gorgeous features. She wondered if he was the angel, the one she had seen before. Those beautiful, intricate wings...It made her want to cry to see those wings. She had always wanted wings just like her mother's, so she could truly fly instead of float. Her father had explained to her one day why she could not fly.

"Amaranth," he had said," Should you have had wings you would have flown away from us, my love. You are a born explorer, but with wings you would never settle down, and if you did sit down you would be like a songbird in a cage. Dearly you would want to fly, my love, but you would be barred from the sky, restrained by love you cannot deny."

"But, Father," she had asked, not but eight; far too young to fully understand the meaning of her father's words," Does Mother ever want to fly? I've never seen Mother fly."

"I don't know, love," he had replied, his tired eyes gazing lovingly into his daughter's," I don't know."

Amaranth tried to watch the fight, but the adrenaline and the crazed movement of the battle made her dizzy. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she kept herself awake for fear of that dreadful voice. It was frightening to even remember, to even try to recount the terror it had sent through her. So, quietly, she looked away and used her ears to watch. As soon as she heard that fateful thud, she looked back towards the scene, and found the man she assumed to be an angel standing before the unconcious berzerker. In wonder she stared at him, his cloak swirling about his ankles. Often, she had wondered why her mother didn't fly away, if only for a little while. For some reason, she seemed to understand.

Quietly, she managed to whisper the words, "Thank you."

Temathil flew through the mountains, mostly gliding from hot air column to hot air column to conserve her energy. She replayed the tune of a song in her mind, a tune her father sang when he was at the forge. she always wondered why he sang it. It was an odd but beutifull language he sang it in, one she could not say, thus she played it in her mind now. One day she had asked, with a good deal of difficulty, why he only sang the beutifull song at the forge. He only smiled and ran his hand through her hair and said, "Because, that is the only place it can be sung. Only the banging of hammers and the heat of the fire can bring the song to life, and release its magic." He then examined the newly forged choker he had made her.
"The song is transfered into the metal, to one day be released when it hears the right tune." With a last smile he had left her to go work with her mother in the gardens. Temathil had sat out on a rock outcrop over the valley far below, studieing the choker for nearly 3 days. She pouted often. How could she give it the right tune if she could not speak, let alone sing?
So now flew through the mountains replaying the song in her mind. She suddenly noticed a group of people ahead and below her. A man was holding a girl over the side of a cliff. She was about to go into a dive, to rescue the woman when another man came charging out, shoving the would be murderer off the ledge and sending the girl flying to land on the uncontious, or dead, she couldnt ell from where she was, for of the man.
She reslung her bow, which she had instinctivly and unknowingly taken out and began to desend toward the group. She landed on the edge of the cliff softly, quite unknown to the others as the woman seemed to be in awe of the man, unaware to all else, and the man was busy looking over the woman, he had a serious face so she didnt think he was just looking at her. She walked smoothly over to the two of them, her feet naturally stepping lightly. When she came near she waved a greeting and gave a half bow.

He almost didn't hear her. His wild eyes were too busy gazing at the downed berserker, glinting with something that was beyond normal emotion. It was as if he was overcoming every definition of every emotion ever described, and managing to explain that one transcending feeling with his eyes. So full of something unique and compelling, yet no being would ever be able to put their finger directly on it. If he focused enough, he could just barely make out the blood seeping out from under the man. Certain parts of the edge of the berserker’s body were tainted with red, a small creek of crimson flowing from the areas. For a moment longer in time, his eyes seemed to flicker even faster, the deadly orbs somewhere else in time. Then in a mere blink of the eyes, he changed once again. When his eyes reopened, the pupils and color had returned to their former glory. Gorgeous shades of blue turned to regard the lady, the expression on the Fallen Angel's face quite unreadable. It was as if he wasn't very sure what to do yet, as if he was trying to comprehend the act he had just committed. His eyes stared at her as if asking her to explain to him what just had happened, to tell him that his gut feeling had been correct.

Yet with a short sigh, his face released itself into a beautiful smile. What he had done was over and completed, and worrying about it was not going to change anything. For a few more moments, he simply smiled brightly at her, his handsome face the very picture of complete and absolute gentleness. She had caught him in full bloom of his angelic nature, the side of him that only a rare few had ever managed to see. Walking with grace, his slow and silent steps took him to her side, where he then bent on his knees to come to her face level. Speaking clearly, his lips would open and let calm words flow out. "You are welcome, milady." A short nod would accompany this form of acceptance, and then his eyes would pull from her face to regard the bruises, and the cuts. After a few short moments of examining her, he would return to her endless eyes.

That is what they were. Like black pools, shining with tears, and as endless as a void. Staring into them, his face seemed to grow quite distant. The gentle and warm breeze caught his long black bangs with invisible fingers, and slowly tossed the silk strands around. After a few moments of simply loosing himself within her unique eyes, his own two would disconnect to dart to her pointed ears, then to scan her body. She was quite pretty, but... The look on his face would reflect confusion for a short moment, for one simple detail was managing to puzzle him. She was hard to focus on. For some reason, it was as if his eyes could not fully comprehend her as a whole. She seemed to be strangely... strangely... he couldn't describe it. As his eyes finished their quick scan of her, one may note the puzzled quality to his face. It was soon replaced with the original gentle calm however, two tan hands coming out of their hiding place from underneath the folds of his black cloak. The garment did a good job of hiding his body from haunting eyes, completely veiling his features from the neck down to the ankles. It had once been there to hide wings, but his regained magic had accomplished that particular task much more efficiently then the cloak ever would. He had continued to wear it though, perhaps out of pure habit more then anything else.

As he removed his hands from their resting place, his left one would brush across the leather grip of a blade. Blinking as he felt it, he recalled the two blades sheathed on that hip. His longsword had been left behind back in the desert, but in return, he had gained two distinctly unique swords. Deadly arm blades, with silver steel and black gems imbedded in the hilts. Quite lovely objects, but he had yet to get used to fighting with them. They were different from other swords in the regard that they were arm blades, which the Fallen Angel had never actually fought with. It would be a unique adventure to try and master them, however.

Speaking once again, he let his voice flow freely. "I am assuming I injured the correct person. I apologize if I might have hurt you, milady." His nature was once again acting up, the unusual events causing him to be much more gentle and polite then he normally would have. "If you would allow me, I can heal you." With these words, his hands would gently descend to her feet, one hand to each sole. With a feather-like touch, he would gently place his palms upon the bloodied skin, and concentrate. If she did nothing to react to his touch, she would feel a relief start to grow within her feet and ankles. Slowly but surely, the cuts started to heal themselves, Ethstar putting as much of his healing magic into the act as possible. As soon as he was done, the hands would slowly raise to the next area of concern. Fingertips would brush the purple bruise on her neck, and relief would start to flood into that area as well. Proceeding as gently and carefully as he could, he simply left his fingers on the bruise for a moment, trying to heal that vicious hurt as well.

After a few more seconds of this, the fingers would pull away to return under the cloak, and he would simply regard her with a calm gaze. It was then he would note the next woman, and his eyes would now turn to her. His first thought would be that she was yet another attacker, but her gentle looks would kill that idea. Not yet taking in her wings, merely focusing on her face, he offered her his beautiful smile, and replied to the greeting. "Hello, milady."

Temathil watched the man attending the girl. His hands seemed to posses a healing touch. Her cuts and scratches and bruises seemed to fade away, as fresh healthy skin grew back. she remembered her mother having this skill, she always said a spell though to invoke the power.
"This man must be very powerfull, to so easily heal her wounds without uttering a breath or concentrating intensly." she thought. She went and checked to see if the man the girl was on top of was alive. Feeling for a pulse at his neck, she found none. He was dead. She sighed. she couldnt feel too sorry, hed almost killed thi poor girl.
She turned to take a look at the girl and found she was elven, but something else also. She was a half-blood, but Temathil could not figure out what the other half of her blood was. Surely not human, or celestial. Her skin was an odd color as well. She wore rather impractical clothing to Temathils thinking. She would not have gotten far if she had escaped on her own. She shook her head and sighed. Her father always told her to place practicality over comfort.

He was beautiful, with black hair of silk and skin of golden brown; every feature of his face was of the grandest perfection. Amaranth watched him as he watched her, staring into his blue eyes as he stared in her black ones. They were shards of sky, she decided, crafted from the bluest, clearest day Imythess had ever seen. He seemed light and lofty, high and noble, as though his soul was made of the same stuff as his eyes. His voice calmed every nerve, relaxed every hair that still stood on end, stopped her frail body from shaking.

She noticed his confusion as he looked upon her, and naturally, she understood why. Being a Genasi meant that you were part of whichever element you descended from. Like his soul was made of sky, her soul, her body, her whole was made half of air. She was there, but not there, making her hard to keep focus on, as she seemed to always be blowing away, like dandilion fluff in the summer sunset breeze; nomatter how far you jumped you would never reach the little seeds as they caught wind and floated away.

Amaranth nodded her head when he offered to heal her, unable to use speach because of her throat. His hands peeked out from beneath his black cloak, gracing her bloodied feet with a gentle touch, soft as a feather and as caring as a healer's. The throb in her feet, the stinging of the wounds, gradually began to dull, lessening as she felt the flow of magic in her blood stream, easing away the pain. The cuts sealed, he moved on towards her neck. His fingertips brushed against her purple and black bruises, bringing relief to the aching pain until her skin was milky white again. She even felt her windpipe healing, strengthening where it had nearly been crushed.

"Thank you," she said, wishing she had more words to say, but she was drained, tired from the shock of being wrung and tossed about by her neck. Tears were still streaming down her neck. He looked ever so much like her mother. Black hair, tanned skin, but his eyes...His eyes. Her thoughts were interrupted when she noted that another person had arrived on the scene. Still frightened, she withdrew, scooching back a bit, her arms around her knees, until the woman's form registered with her mind. Wings. They were beautiful, just like her mother's, feathers overlapping to form and intricate, soft pattern. The woman looked kindly, gentle, but Amaranth was strangely aware that she had not spoken. She disregarded the fact that the woman's greeting had been silent, returning it with a sweet smile.

"Hello," she said to the woman, softly,instinctively, her voice quivering nervously. Her straw colored hair waved in the wind, and she brushed it out of her black eyes. Desperately, she was wishing for her father's calming embrace to be there, for his voice to coo and tell her everything was alright. Instead, the cold voice telling her to fly, daring her to fly away, was coming back to her. The memory of the terror was charging through her heart, making her anxiously look towards the angelic man who'd saved her. He was a calming thought, but not strong enough to quell her wavering heartbeat. Quietly, she watched him and the woman, waiting for something to happen, her black eyes still watery.

Temathil sensed and saw the fear in the girl. She was still in fright over hwat had happened. Temathil never had anyone react in fear to her and it wrenched her heart seeing this girl so. she had usually been the frightend one. she held out her hadns to show they were empty as she inclined her head in greeting, a response to the girls greeting. The girl was tearing and she held her arms around her knees in fright. Temathil ever so gently walked forward, and knelt beside the girl, as if gliding to her side. She reached out and gently took one of the girls hands, hoping that the inbred ability to heal a persons mind would help sooth her. she gently rubbed the hand. It was cold, and it felt as if wind kept blowing across her hand. Temathil had to blink when looking straight at her, because it was as if she always lost focus with the girl.
"How odd." Temathil thought.
this girl puzzled her. Shed never seen a persons body act in such a manner and she was beginning to get very curious. she wished she could speak, to ask how she did it. But she couldnt. So many things in her life had always gone unsaid. she smiled warmly at the girl, a twinkle in her eye. The look of a good friend, a close friend, more than anything else.

Quietly, the knelt Angel observed the newcomer, his gentle face the very picture of curiosity as he regarded her elegant features. Since his many adventures on the material plane, he had learned the easiest way to tell between the different races was the defining features on their unique faces. His calm blue eyes intensely focused on her face, not yet filming out to take in anything else. The flourishing of his angelic nature was still in full bloom, so as he regarded her, she may sense the unending form of gentleness within his polite stare. If there had been another man there, his attitude might have been a little different, might have been much more polite and knightly. But as of now, he was viewing the first girl as a simple flower, one that could be easily crushed under the weight of a cruel heel, and every part of his angelic soul leaned toward protecting that single, beautiful flower. This thought was fresh in his mind as he examined the angelic-looking newcomer, still not fully taking in her whole body. Not much of his mind was set toward acting professionally. As for his observance of the winged newcomer, his zones of focus were quite small, not allowing him to take in most beings as a whole at first glance. His eyes would jump to the tips of her pointed ears, a small, almost unconceivable nod showing that he had identified her race. From his experience, all the elves he had ever met had the same, exact ears.

Then he finally noticed her wings. At this revelation, the emotions on his face would suddenly and rapidly shift from one to the other. First, a sudden and violent wave of unleashed rage would replace the gentle calm. It was as if he had once been the gentle breeze that once brushed calm waves of the ocean, only to turn into one of the fiercest hurricanes the world had ever seen. His eyes snapped to the killing look of before, the pupils turning into mere pinpricks, while the beautiful blue color thinned to an almost nonexistence. They burned into the girl, only one thought now crossing his mind. Yet another Celestial, sent to kill me. The look in his eyes would burn with utter hate and anger, and the slightest hint of some kind of pain. He hated her. That was the sentence being emitted from that gaze.

You are an Angel. And for that..... I hate you.

But only a few seconds of the incredible rage would exist, for the next emotion in the line of time would fall into place. The eyes would return to their normal state, and confusion would replace the outburst of anger. She had pointed ears. No Celestial Angel he had ever seen had ever had pointed ears. In fact, he had read in his studies that every single Angel had facial traits that resembled humans. That concept was blown to pieces once one mind reached the utter beauty of Angels, and the speed and strength, but still...

Regarding the second girl with something bordering curiosity and awe, the thought that she may be an Angel was discarded. He was completely confident that he knew his own race well enough to confirm that she was not one of them. So... she was a winged elf? The concept was not entirely impossible. Sighing slightly, he did not welcome the addition of a new complication to the puzzle of his mind. Trying to shove this new race, whatever she may be, to the back of his brain, he silently shifted his gaze toward the girl he had just rescued.

Once again, he was lost within her gaze. He found her looking at him with some kind anxious fear held within her beautiful pools of black. He simply gazed back for a moment, trying to find some kind of bottom to that gaze. The confusion on his face melted away from his face after a few moments of simply matching gazes with her, replaced by a picture of perfect innocence. Under the cloak, he gently placed one of his hands on the top hilt of his blades, and summoned the magic within. A gentle breeze would blow across her face, lifting the strands up out of her eyes and keeping them away. At about the same moment the warm touch of the wind leapt upon her face, words would come flowing from out of his lips. "It is okay, milady. You will be fine." It was short, yet it was really the only way he could think of to try and comfort her. He had never really been good with words, and this time was no exception. A smile would brighten his face, yet another tactic to try and wish away her tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes.

His gaze would shift as the elf moved, his eyes slightly wary this time around. He would simply watch as she leaned down to take hold of the girl's hand, and only then would he give a slight nod of approval. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that she was not an elf. If he hadn't of been in such a good mood when she had stumbled across him, he probably wouldn't have noticed her ears at all. Still studying the two, a sudden noise would catch his attention. A cold and cruel chorus of laughing voices, located somewhere inside the tree line. Not yet turning to regard the noise, he simply voiced a single command, his gaze locking upon the winged elf. "Milady. Can you fly the girl away? More of her attackers will be here soon. And I would rather not subject her to them." His voice was calm and cool, yet holding a slight tone of urgency to it. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he didn't want the distressed girl to be subject to more blood, and to more of what wanted to harm her.

Temathil saw the man studying her. She didnt mind. Whenever someone did see her, they always saw the wings first, and always had a look of awe. This man though studied her face, then as his eyes passed over her wings it was as if a mighty storm came crashing down. She saw the fury in his eyes, and tryed to back away from him, he looked as if he would kill her there and then. She still had her hand on the girls, and she would never be able to get to her weapon in time to save herself. For a few excrutiating seconds she thought she would die. then the mans eyes returned to her face, and she saw a look a of curiousity come over him.
"Could this be one of the Fallen?" she wondered.
That would explain the fury he had when he saw her wings, and the sudden stop when he saw her face, and more than likely her ears. She knew angels looked like humans with wings, none had pointed ears.
"He has probably never seen an avariel." she thought.
Suddenly a faint noise came to her ears. She looked up, studeing the surroundings. The man had already been doing the same, she saw him look at her and say, "Milady. Can you fly the girl away? More of her attackers will be here soon. And I would rather not subject her to them."
She looked down at the girl. She was a strong flier but not strong enough to carry the woman. No matter how light she was. Temathil still had her armor, and weapons on. she looked to the man and shook her head no, gesturing as best she could to show the woman was too heavy. She kept a hand on the womans, and with her right she unsheathed the katana part way. She looked around, waiting for the Fallen to lead.

Amaranth gazed into his eyes as he gazed into hers, distantly studying the details of his sky-eyes. She wondered of his thoughts as she saw him lose himself in her eyes, feeling their eyes, their souls connecting in some other distant reality. She felt frail beside him, her pale skin seemed more pallid, almost as translucent as moonlight, beside his tanned skin. His gaze was polite, caring, and she felt protected under his gaze.

Amaranth jumped a little as the winged woman took her hand, but soon her tensed muscles melted, welcoming the friendly hand clasped around her own. The woman's eyes, blue, though not like the man's, twinkled with a friendly glow, as though she had known her all her life. The woman still did not speak, and something told Amaranth it was because she could not speak, rather than free will, but the woman made up for it with her gentle eyes. When the man looked upon her, however, when his eyes fell upon her white wings, feathers rimmed with silver and gold, he seemed to change. It scared her, though she would not show it; the blue seemed to flee from his eyes, replaced with something more menacing, full of hate, full of anger. She wondered wether she should fear this gentle woman, confused, but when his eyes returned to normal upon noticing her ears, her fears were quieted.

She had still been crying, mostly because of shock and exhaustion. The man stared deeply into her eyes once more, as she herself found her gaze focusing on his own once more, a little amused by their constant staring matches. His face held confusion, confused about what she was not sure. It melt away quickly, however, as a few more moments passed, both of their gazes trapped within eachother's eyes. He summoned magic from a blade at his side, and a warm, comforting breeze replaced the eternal wind that seemed to blow across her features, waxing and waning. The warmth filled her up, brushing away stray strands of wavy straw hair from her eyes. He spoke, trying to comfort her, his voice replacing the cold one in her head. "Fly, fly away," being replaced with,"It's ok milady. You will be fine." It was not the content of his speech, but rather his voice in and of itself, coupled with a beautiful smile, that stopped her tears from trickling down her pale face.

Amaranth caught on the wind the sound of laughter, cold and sharp, and speech from the blasphemous tongue of the berzerker's. Surprisingly, she was not afraid, not stung by a blade of anxiety to the heart, not overcome by the need to run away. She was angry. Angry that they were laughing, because they thought she was dead. Angry that they were talking of her father and how they had killed him and his entire family, or so they thought. Angry that they were happy, because they had burned her house while she was away, too cowardly to face her, and do it when she was around. The man directed for the woman to take Amaranth to safety, but the woman regarded him with a silent 'no', showing that she was too heavy for her to fly away with. The woman was of a smaller stature than herself, and she had armor that might already weigh her down. It was impossible. But, that was good; Amaranth did not want to leave the man to fight.

"I should not wish to leave without you," she said to the man, quietly, her voice gaining momentum as she spoke,"You have already saved me; leave them, please. They have burned down my house, they have murdered my parents, and they have tried to kill me as well. This house, or the house that used to be here, was mine to defend, but I left it and could not. Let me come back one day, so that I might claim it again for my family. Please, my lord. I should not want harm to come of you, because I again could not defend."

Her eyes caught his again, pleading. They were closer now, the berzerkers; she could hear their footfalls in the forest, hear their laughter flowing forth from their slanderous tongues. Staring still into his sky-eyes, she said once more," Please my lord."

At seeing the winged Angel's shake of the head, he let loose a sharp nod, automatically accepting the fact that she could not carry the girl. Casting a quick glance toward the upset girl, he noted that she was looking a little bit better, thankfully. With that bit of information now locked away within the back of his mind, the look in his eyes went so very focused, so very intense. As if he had reached his own little zone of concentration, and as if he was ready to conquer anything that was destined to head his way. His gaze was now shifted in the direction of the voices, and his body was now set in the stance to readily fight. The slight crunching of weight upon mere stone could be heard as he shifted his boots upon the earth, turning so his back was facing the two ladies, and his feet were spread slightly apart. The look in his eyes was starting to slowly change, if one would be observant enough to notice. The warm orbs, slowly dying down in the happy emotions that danced within them. Is was as if something was sucking all of the warmth from the eyes, sucking it away to soon replace it with something else.

Yet then he heard the girl, and everything that was changing in his eyes seem to freeze. Like she had pulled the trigger somewhere in his mind, and stopped time for just that single Fallen Angel. Turning slightly so his right shoulder was pointing toward her and the other girl, he silently stared at her. He was also somewhat amused by their constant matchs of eyes, but he didn't really mind that much. He had been intrigued with her gaze before, and nothing had changed in these few seconds. As he gazed directly into her deep, shining orbs, his gaze would become searching. His brow would crinkle slightly as his mind raced through what she had just said, as if making sure of something held within the statement. After a mere moment of this, he let loose a short nod, and the one hand he had on a hilt fell away. "As you wish, milady. Another day. Yet do not worry about my health, for you are more important right now." With those few words, he was back to his gentle self, the smile lighting his features once more. Quite calmly, considering the fact that the beserker voices were getting louder by the moment, the gaze would shift to the winged elf.

"Milady, I thank you for your assistance on this matter." With the polite words, he would give a sharp nod, and the hand within his cloak would suddenly rise to tightly grasp the tight blade again. In the area that Ethstar thought was an ideal space between the berserkers and him, he slowly started to form his spell. Out of empty air, a mist would start to steadily gather, the crystal beads of pure water slowly making their presence known in the form of a wet sheet. As the next events continued to unfold, the mist would continue to get thicker, hopefully covering their actions from any prying eyes that may get too close.

"Okay. Now listen carefully. We will have to be quiet, and try to avoid them." Pulling his gaze back and forth between the two ladies, his voicee would remain calm and steady, yet barely above a soft whisper. "Quickly now, along the edge of the cliff, head toward the forest." Taking one step to put himself directly beside the two women, each hand would come out of the cloak to offer themselves to whichever girl would take it, if it be one to each hand, or if one girl take both.

A look would be given back toward the mist, the eyes still calm, but searching for any signs of movement. Ears would reach out as well, with all their strength, trying to detect how close the berserkers really were. He was almost positive he could have taken them, but right now, he was feeling quite protective of the fallen girl. Shifting his eyes once more, he would give her a quick glance over, his eyes travelling up and down the length of her body in a judging look. Not one of lust or rudeness, but a gentle look that was searching for any more bruises or cuts.

Temathil watched the events unfold, and kept a eye on the girl. As the man spoke, a thick fog developed, and her sight distance dropped to almost nothing. She looked around, as she heard the sound of the creatures becoming louder. They were getting closer.
The man then turned back to Temathil and the girl and said, "Okay. Now listen carefully. We will have to be quiet, and try to avoid them." . He looked between the two of them as he continued, "Quickly now, along the edge of the cliff, head toward the forest."
He then held out his hands to them. Temathil put the girls hand she was holding in the mans hand. The warm glow imediatly left her eyes as her katana whispered from its sheath in one fluid motion. She held it in a readied stance. The noises were close, very close.
"It would be too slow if we all tried to run to the forest holding hands. He is stronger and can bear the woman more." She thought. She quickly motioned for all of them to go, as she shifted glances behind them. She moved as a ghost, making no sound, and taking agile, gracefull steps.

Amaranth was glad as he spoke, reassuring her that he would not fight against the berzerkers. She watched, intigued as he cast a spell, bringing up a thick fog. Always she had taken an interest in magic and the way of the mage, but never had she the opportunity to learn any of it. Her father had promised her that upon his return he would find a mage to teach her. Perhaps, she had spent too long waiting for him to return. The fog was thick, and she could barely see through to the other side, like looking through a rain cloud, dense and rich with water, but this cloud was infused with something more. She could almost see in it the magic that stemmed through every droplet, invisible capillaries of enchantment weving through the cloud, connecting every atom, every molecule, every tiny drop of water.

Amaranth's attention was drawn from the cloud, however, when he spoke again, directing them to leave at once. The fog would sheild their steps, hiding them from unsavory eyes. The woman let Amaranth's had fall into the man's, and she took his other one. Both hands encased in his, she felt safe and protected. They were tanned, and warm, and larger than her own delicate, pale ones. Hers always seemed to be barely noticable, as though when one was holding them they were holding nothing at all, unless she tried to make herself seem to be in one place, seem to be whole. She pulled herself upright, though she seemed to use none of his weight to do so, merely drifting upwards into a standing position like a tendril of smoke rising towards the sky.

The winged woman, however, unsheathed her sword. Confused, Amaranth regarded her with puzzled eyes, but she felt that it would be of no use to try and convince the lady to leave. However, she would feel horrible if she did not try to convince her to escape with them. There was no time to stand about; they had to leave, and they had to leave now. Quietly, she regarded the woman one last time, and said," Milady."

She turned, letting one hand falll to her side, the other still holding the man's. She felt safe beside him, the closeness of him reassuring and calming like being behind a locked door where noone could find you. Her feet, still bare, did not touch the ground, and she began, the man beside her, to walk towards the far end of the ledge, away from the woman and the fog; she took one last glance back, a wave of guilt rising up over her. The path was narrow and rocky, and she let go of the man's hand, for it would allow for only a single file line. Cautiously, she navigated her way down, her feet still not gracing the rocks, supported by an invisible barrier.

When they had reached the bottom, she took his hand once more, feeling safe to feel him near again. The edge of the forest was not but a few feet away now, and she sensed the berzerkers had already found themselves upon the ledge. She lead him into the forest, and when they were deep in the woods, far from the evil eyes they had fled from, she said quietly," I think we're safe, my lord. Thank you, once again." Her hand left his, as she leaned against the sweet smelling trunk of one of the pines, facing him. Quietly she continued," I fear I haven't properly introduced myself; I am Amaranth Oleander, one of the Air Genasi."

Temathil wondered why the woman looked so guilty and tried coxing her to come with them. She was already planning on it. It would have been a waste and a suicide to stay, and she had no plans of deing that day. She folllowed them, a little ways back, moving sideways, her steps leaving no trail, or sound. She kept glancing between the rear and the two up ahead. She thought she saw a shadow as the shouting came louder but she couldnt tell. The berserkers were at their original area for sure.
Temathil kept her guard up as they reached a narrow ledge. Temathil knelt down, placing her sword infront of her, and drawing her bow. It might take them a time to get across the ledge. She drew an arrow, and sighted along it into the fog. she heard them but she couldnt see anything. She took quick glances behind her to see how they were progressing. finally they were across, and Temathil, holding the arrow and bow in one hand, quickly and deftly sheathed the sword. She backed up slowly till she hit the edge of the cliff, where she quickly leapt backwards into the air. She let herself fall back, twisting in the air. She had fallen nearly 10 feet before she opened her wings and glided back around, following underneath the ledge till it ended and opened up into a forest. Flapping a few times she brought herself back up, landing on the edge. She placed the arrow back into the quiver, and put the bow into its case on her back.
As she walked back over to the man and woman she heard the woman introduce herself.
"I fear I haven't properly introduced myself; I am Amaranth Oleander, one of the Air Genasi."
Temathil thought for a moment. Shed never heard of genasi. Perhaps it was the reason why she was not a normal human, the floating, and odd color of the skin. Temathil came forward and took out an old piece of paper. She unfolded it and handed it to the woman, bowing slightly.
The note read, "Temathil"

He gently squeezed her hand as the girl took ahold of it, accepting both with a gentle grip as she took ahold. He was slightly surprised as she got up, but used his arms for no, or little support. He felt no tug on his muscles, and he didn't have to do a thing to support her. He regarded her with a puzzled look, but kept his lips shut. As the girl beside of the two drew her blade, he gave her an approving look, assuming that she was doing it to protect their flank. He didn't notice the worried look that the Genasi gave her though, for the minute his eyes left the battle-ready figure of the elf, his mind focused on what they were going to have to do now. Giving the hand he held another reassuring squeeze, the three started on their path, using the mist as their cloak. His boots moved completely quietly, not making a single sound as they inched their way across the rocky ground. Each of his movements were strangely precise and graceful, watching his steps would actually give you the feeling of being caught within a strange and private dance. It was like he swayed from movement to movement, instead of simply going to step from step with the regular movements of most. He noticed her own grace, and was simply molding into it, accustoming himself to her strange and breezy movements.

Her hand felt so fragile in his grasp, and he was slightly afraid he was to break it. Every squeeze he had done had been very gentle, his fear somewhat obvious. He was treating her like a delicate piece of china, one that would break if any pressure was given. Mostly subconsciously, but somewhere deep inside, he was making it a point to be as soft as he could with her. As she let go to cross the edge, he would as well, and slowly make his way after her, keeping about a foot away to give them each enough space. He walked with confidence and ease, not at all worried about falling over the edge. He was completely confident in his movements, and each step reflected that with ease. Part of his mind was focused on what would be needed if the elf behind him, or the girl in front slipped, and he was ready to catch either. This was soon changed to simply watching out for the girl in front though, his mind bitterly remembering the elf's wings.

As soon as they were both across, and she took hold of his hand, he readily accepted it with yet another gentle squeeze. Turning his head a little to look back to the other girl, he watched unblinkingly as she fell backwards, almost panicking as he thought she had slipped. With one quick glance toward her eyes however, he noted that she was in complete control of her plunge, and his worries were eased. Giving a slight nod, he turned his gaze back toward their path and continued on beside of the girl. His ears went back to focusing for the berserkers again, but he could hardly hear them now. They were certianly not following, and that was quite a good thing. His gaze next took in the trees, observing one particular oak for no apparent reason. He had grown fond of the nature found in this particular plane, after travelling alone in the woods for so very long. He had been quite the wanderer when he had first got here, and actually still was.

When they reached the area that the girl considered safe, he released her hand as she did his, and took his own slouch agaisnt a nearby tree. It was an old tactic of his that he didn't need here, but was doing it anyway, out of habit more then anything else. Let him look as if he was off guard, so the enemy would make some kind of hasty attack. His clear blue eyes regarded her calmly, gently, observing her as she spoke. After she was finished, he opened his mouth to respond, but that was when the winged elf made her reappearance. Slightly surprised, he changed his speech at the last moment. "Oh, hello there. I am glad you are back, I never thanked you." Giving her a perfect smile, he let the words flow and remain in the air, keeping his next sentence waiting until the winged elf gave her own greeting, which he was expecting. Instead of her speaking though, she gave a slip of paper to the Genesai, and gave a bow. With a puzzled look, he regarded her, not completely understanding this form of greeting. He did not question it though, merely accepted it as another oddity of this plane. He would now speak, considering it to be the right time.

"I am Ethstar Solther. It was my pleasure to help, no thanks is ever needed. Your eyes spoke of it all." He nearly blinked at that last sentence, yet managed to keep his face on straight. That was rather knightly, something he would have done back in the Celestial plane. People did seem to take to it nicely on this plane however, and they were the words that were coming naturally. So he simply went with the speech, each and every word perfectly honest and true.

Temathil looked back to the man. He seemed relaxed and leaned against a tree. She frowned somewhat.
"this is not wise." she thought.
She then noticed his confused expresion towards her. Before she could formulate some replie however, the man introduced himself as Ethstar Solther. she noticed he was quite elegant in his speech. She smilled at him and nodded her greeting. Then catching his eye she responded to the confused expression earlier by putting a hand to her throat and holding it. she didnt think he would know what the pendant meant, Silence, because he was not elven. she had dealt with people like this though and it wasnt that difficult.
Temathil stetched and refolded her wings into a more comfortable posture and placed a hand on her sword. she didnt know what to expect of the berserkers, or if they even knew of the ledge and the three of them, but she wanted to be prepared. She listened intently at the distant sounding shouts. she knew it was a trick done by the way the rock formed around them. she hoped the enemy would not realize they were there.

Amaranth looked at palm, the paper crinkled, her finger tips curled over it to keep it from falling away. She opened it, reading what had been inscribed upon it's wrinkled surface. In perfect handwriting, it read "Temathil". She understood then why the woman had not spoken; Temathil was mute. Amaranth had met only one person before who'd been mute. She always thought it would be terribly depressing, but the person, a young girl, had always seemed to be of high spirits and never gave her disability a passing glance. After Ethstar had greeted her, his name flowing with perfect grace, his name still upon her ears, she said to the woman," Indeed, thank you my Lady Temathil."

Amaranth glanced towards Ethstar, unsure of how to explain how she knew Temathil's name. She held up the paper, making sure that he'd seen it, and handed it back to the winged lady. It was only then that she got to take in the true slendor of Temathil's wings, white a soft, like a cloud shaped by the hands of the gods and given to the elves. All too much like her mother's. She averted her eyes from them, not wanting to feel anymore remorse and despair than she already did. As she was about to continue speaking, she heard once again the voices of the berzerkers. They were deep in the woods; she had thought they'd be safe their. The sweet smelling forest seemed to shiver, grow a little more tense. Perhaps it was the rocks, the harmonics of the area of stone enclosing them, reflecting sounds that were far away. She did not know, but she certainly did not feel as relaxed, bristling as one arm crossed over another, one hand rising to a bare shoulder.

Amaranth's dark eyes flitted towards Ethstar. She wanted to hold his hand once more, feel his gentle fingers around her own, but it would be unpolite; she had to keep her chivalry in mind. However, she could still long for it, she decided. Was that so unchivalrous and forbidden? She tried to put it out of her mind, along with her fear and uncomfort, and continued,"I'm sorry to have wrapped you two up in my own troubles. Thank you, once again my Lord Ethstar, and you as well Lady Temathil. Those men, the berzerkers...It was foolish of me not to believe that they would be here, readied to kill. A long time ago, you see, my family moved into the mountains, our ancestral home, only to find it overrun by wild mountain people. They dominated the rural villages that lined the edge of the mountains; even dwarves were not free from their tyranny. Their reign was that of cruelt, and my family, my father especially, would not rest until he'd freed every last person. In the process, he found my mother, and Avariel Elf, much as you are yourself, my lady, are you not? He loved her dearly, and saved her from them. They were wed not long after, and she gave birth to me. But, the wild people, the berzerkers, have held this grievance against me and my family throughout my lifetime. I must be...If my father returned after I'd left...I...would be the last of the Oleander line."

As she finished her sentence, she felt herself becoming less and less secure. Fear rose up through her, from her toes to the ends of every golden hair on her silken head. The sweet smell of pine, the sense of the tree behind her; these things seemed to flee away, leaving her cold. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. And her fears were not sensless; they were drawing closer. Envy stirred in their souls. Tricky little girl. She would not evade them this time. Not this time. The trees rustled, dried pine needle crunching beneath their feet. Lowering her voice, she said," They are barbaric, but excellent trackers. I fear they draw closer, my lord. We will not find safety in this forest." Quietly, she waited, frozen to the spot where she stood, waiting for their next move, all the while the sense of impending doom baring down on her. She continued," There is one place where I do not think they would seek to look. A hidden place where we might find safety. The forest is deep and wide. We might be able to find shelter there for the night; it would be unwise to continue travel. They will follow, but they will not enter this place."

Ethstar noted both glances thrown in his direction, the disapproving one from the winged elf, and the glance of uncertianty from Amaranth.. He ignored the disapproving one, it was something he was quite used to. He could easily remember the same glances from his sword teachers, the looks that told him to straighten his posture and act the part of a respectful warrior of the Legion. He had ignored all of those glances as well, making it look as if he simply hadn't noticed them. Even though he was one for knightly speech, and bows... he had never been able to keep his back straight when he was simply standing about casually, or lounging in a chair. Perhaps it was his slacker side, a part of himself he had yet to find. Locking his eyes upon the little piece of paper Amaranth had held up for him, his improved vision managed to pick out the letters to a name. Glancing from the paper to Temathil, he managed to quickly put the pieces together. That must be the winged elf's name. But why had she given it on a piece of paper, and why had it been written on there beforehand? It was as if the elf carried it around everywhere she went. Did that mean she used it to introduce herself to everyone she met?

Blinking, he regarded the girl with a curious look. He could feel the emotion rising within him, combining with the previous curiousity of Amaranth and the problem he had focusing on her figure, and the puzzlement over the silence of the winged elf when he had first met her. His eyes sparkled with the questioning emotion, and one might note his deep eyes were always strangely displaying every single emotion he ever felt. Perhaps it was another one of the things that kept him clearly defined from the Celestial's he so dearly hated. Whatever the case, if one ever took an observant look at him, and leapt deep within his gaze... they would likely be able to pinpoint the emotional state he was in.

In a few moments, he had managed to come to the same conclusion as Amaranth. He could think of no other sane or logical explanation other then that the winged elf that stood before him now was indeed mute. The confusion cleared from his face, and his mind readily accepted this fact. His eyes regarded the girl for a few more moments, calmly studying her. Then, with a nod and a smile, he basically repeated what Amaranth had already said. "Yes, milady Temathil. Thank you." At these words, his eyes would flit back to Amaranth, just in time to lock with the second glance she had graced him with. For some odd reason that was beyond his control, he felt his gaze pulled to her time and time again. Coming to realize this truth, he took a quick memory trip to all of his actions since meeting the girl. How many times had his eyes been magneticly drawn to her own beautiful orbs? He regarded this fact with a air of curiousity, for the way he had been acting was quite foreign to him. Oh well.

He listened quietly as her words flowed out, as gentle as a summer wind. She had called herself a Air Genesai, and he was somewhat familar with the beings. That would certianly explain her flowing motions, and the way she was hard to focus on. His eyes regarded her with a form of sadness, one that would seem as if it was sharing her agony instead of pitying her circumstances. Truly even more gentle then before, if that was even at all possible. After she finished talking about her family and the sadness increased, a longing to go over and try to comfort her would rise within his heart. Yet it was not to be, his honor keeping him bound to where he was. Blinking a little, it was then when he heard the sounds of the berserkers.

With a light curse muttered, he turned his head in the direction they had came from, straining to find their attackers. He could not see anything as of yet, but one would notice his position straightened notably. Ever muscle in his body went tight, and he pulled himself up from his slouching stance to stand high and proud. His mind didn't immediately think of the possibility that the rocks were playing a trick on him, but automatically jumped back to the health of the Air Genesai near to him. Eyes snapping back to her, he caught her face just in time to hear her next words. He nodded slowly as she spoke, automatically trusting her. He waited patiently until she finished, then spoke words of his own. "I will follow. Lead on, milady." With a warm smile, he looked now to Temathil, a questioning look given to the girl. "Will you follow us as well, Milady Temathil?" With this, he simply waited, glancing between the two women to gauge their reactions. Noting the look of worry and fear upon the Genesai, he offered her another smile and let his eyes take her in. "It will be alright, milady, I promise." His eyes spoke of more promises, unspoken words of protection that were never said aloud. He stood there, the very essance of cool calmness.

Temathil knocked an arrow to her bow, nodding at Ethstar. She glanced back at the pass. There was deffinitly no trick being done by the rock. The berserkers were really on their trail. She looked back at the two, motioning from all of them to go. She began walking when she heard something behind her. Turning she saw a grizzled man, with axes hanging all over coming down the trail, looking at the ground. She wasted no time. In one fluid motion she had the arrow aimed and released with a sharp twang of the string. The men was knocked back and he looked suprised as he saw the arrow materialize in his chest. He looked up just intime to see a second arrow launched, this one into his throat. With a gurgle he fell to the ground.
Temathil then turned to the others and frantically motioned them to go....in a hurry. She ran after them after she made a quick check of the pass. She ran as silent and swift as the wind, leaving as little trail as possible.

Amaranth noticed in the eyes of Ethstar an increasing amount of sadness after she had told of her life. It did not seem as pity, but a sadness he seemed to share with her, as though he too had lost lord and land, family and house. She looked to him gratefully, her eyes gleaming with thankfullness; the last thing she had ever desired was pity. His eyes, so blue, so bright, like the perfect circles of sky, seemed as ever changing as the heavens. They seemed to rise and fall, as though clouds passed over them, clouds composed of his varying emotions. They produced, to her it seemed, a magnetic sort of attraction, for she could not draw away her gaze, could not pull herself away, as though she was tied to him and he to her. She could've gazed into them, could've read his heart that he seemed to show for all to see through those window-eyes, were it not for the persistent beating of her pulse. Her heartbeats would not wane, continuing to increase in speed and intensitiy until she thought her heart might burst through her chest.

"Before we go, this place-" she began urgently, but was cut off, as the sound of a man caught her ears. She turned, just in time to capture the sight of Temathil, cutting down a burly man with her arrows, her aim reaching it's mark with elvish perfection. Her heart, although she could hardly believe it, beat ever faster, and she felt the rythmn resound through her, making her quiver like a leaf in a feirce storm, clinging to the solidity of the branch from which she was born.

Temathil looked to them, motioning for them to leave, for more berzerkers could be heard following their slain commrade. Without skipping a beat, Amaranth latched unto the hand of Ethstar, the warmth of his palm spreading through her. The first thing that came to her mind was to run, and so she did, her feet still not quite touching the ground. She ran swiftly, dodging limb and needle, the sharp fingers of the pines grazing her arm. She came to an abrupt halt as a birch tree appeared before her, glancing back, still quivering and holding fast to Ethstar's hand.

"This is it," Amaranth said quietly, taking hold of Temathil's light, elven hand as well. Her eyes closed, the shades drawing over her black irises, the deep orbs falling like the moon, veiled by day. She walked forward through the birch, pulling them along with her. As she and her companions seemingly disappeared through the tree to any onlooking eyes, she felt her body become less whole, more airy and light. It was a pleasant feeling, the warmth of the enchantments laid upon the tree stemming up through her whole body. For those seconds that it took to let the magic push them through the barrier, her heart seemed to slow, every feeling fading away leaving calm and bliss. She opened her eyes when she felt again her heart thudding in her chest like a crazed moth attempting to break it's small body through a windowpane.

Her eyes fluttered open once more, and the sensation of regaining wholeness in fractions of a second caused her to shudder and shake, letting go of her companions' hands. Vison granted to her once more, she looked upon the place they had entered. It was a clearing, expansive, flowing like gold, flecked with pink, blue, orange, white, and every other color beneath the sky. The feilds rolled on unto the horizon, and behind them stood the forest and the white birch. To there left a stream gurgled, a small waterfall rushing from inbetween the roots of a giant tree, hollow at it's base. The stream came into a small, pristine pond, opening it's heart to clear waters filled with fish of bright orange and blue. She took a few steps forward, quivering still, her heart beginning to slow, though she quaked evermore. Quietly she said, looking about the place in awe," It has been so long...I forgot what this place was like..."

He was so lost. Swimming in her orbs once again as she simply gazed at him, her eyes shining with an emotion that warmed his being. He knew he was staring quite rudely, but he couldn't pull himself away. Her eyes were linking to his, turning them into a single shining being that pulsed with life. He could feel his heartbeat drumming steadily in his ears, matching the pace of her own swift heart. Her eyes were like dark jewels, crystals that held so much warmth, that overflowed with emotions that he could somehow easily understand. He knew she was looking into the window that opened his heart, and deep down inside, he was holding out a hand that would let her come inside. He knew she understood his heart, he knew she would. He too had lost his family, his life, his being. The only thing that remained of that life was a dark spot on his heart, and a Angelic nature that would likely never be able to go away. And so he stood there, captivated with this being that was standing in front of him. He couldn't explain it. He didn't want to.

And that was when the arrow struck true. With a blink of his eyes, both beings disconnected their gaze to turn and look at the dead. Respect for the elven girl automatically flooded his mind, and he regarded her swiftly with this newfound respect. He could not fire an arrow if it meant his life, and here she was, her missile dead on the mark. He felt a hand remove itself from his crossed arms to dash down into the folds of his cloak, tightly grasping the leather wrapped hilt that lay hidden underneath. He was fully expecting yet another attacker to come bursting out of the brush, and the dangerous light in his eyes reflected this. The pupils dilated violently once more, the blue color thinning to a barely seeable ring. He looked completely and utterly vicious.

It lasted a mere breath however, for it was that moment when he felt Amaranth's hand take his. He blinked, and when the long eyelashes slowly slid up, he was the gentle Ethstar of before. He looked down at the hand with a confused light in his eye, then realized what was happening as the girl took flight. He simply went along, flowing once more into a running stride that was filled with grace and speed. He easily dodged both limb and tree, not once letting go of the hand he was clasping as he danced through the forest. He let loose yet another surprised blink soon enough, the place that the girl had brought them to not being anything like he had thought. He stared blankly at the tree, his eyes latching onto it for a moment before going down to regard the girl at his hand with a curious glint.

When she pulled them toward the tree, his eyes widened for a moment, and he had nothing to do but brace himself for the impact he thought was to come. Instead, the tree never made solid connection with him, instead, he felt magic flowing through his body like a soothing hot bath. All feeling seemed to fade away to be replaced with a warm and permanent glow, an effect that he didn't recognize, but warmly welcomed. It was only the cool air suddenly striking his face that managed to pull him out of his blissful trance. He opened his eyes, not knowing what to expect, but automatically on guard for some reason. The sudden impact of all feeling returning to his body caused his legs to go into a ragged stagger. Quickly regaining his composure and straightening, so neither girl would hopefully noticed, he checked on each of his companions to make sure both were okay. Once he was done with this quick task, his eyes went to regard the beautiful landscape. It was awe striking. Even those words did no justice to it. He simply stood there with wide eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Soon enough though, common sense and his knowledge of the Arcane arts kicked in, and it was only then that he discovered the knowledge of what had happened. He turned to Amaranth, his voice as calm as ever, if not slightly drifty. "This is a beautiful place... How did you know of it, if I may ask...? I have never seen anything such as this on this plane..."

((Sorry, Temathil, if you're still in this...I just had to post, I didn't want this rp to die... :( ))

"My father took me here once, when the wildmen, the berzerkers, raided our land. This place, he said, was made by a mage who sought hiding from the wildmen of the mountains. A birch grows every year on one day when someone will need it most. We're lucky for it to have harkened to our need,"Amaranth replied, looking back towards him, and then before herself once more. The sky was melting away, blue fading into red, pink, yellow, and orange. Clouds floated above, thin bands of gold and pink. The sun seemed to blush, falling behind rolling hills of gold, the faces of the flowers bidding it goodnight. On the fringes of the last bit of azure, cascaded deep blue, the first stars peeking out from behind the velvet curtain of night.

Amaranth looked to Ethstar, the fading day reflecting in his eyes of sky, and as she caught sight of him, her heart seemed to be stilled, her shaking stopped. His skin, tanned, seemed wrought of gold in the fading light, and never had she seen more noble a face. His eyes, every fleck, every detail seemed to stand out to her. Dearly, she wanted his gaze to be tied once more to hers, his eyes glued to her own. Mentally, she scolded herself. What a lady you are, she thought, chiding her every impulse. Their eyes...Both of their's, they seemed to fit like puzzle peices. The rises and falls in her own seemed to be a copy of his, as if by some miraculous event they were made from the same mold. She felt rude, dreadfully so, but she felt he would not mind. Quietly, she gaze for a little more, and turned, floating towards the tree, beckoning for them to follow.

The hollow at it's base was not more than four feet high, and she crouched down, hunkering over to fit her thin frame beneath the threshold. Inside, however, the corridor seemed endless, as though by magic (which it was). The floor was mossy, springy and soft, and back a few yards lay a staircase, winding up the side of what seemed the innards of a giant trunk. Mind boggling it seemed, these odd ratios in size, but she didn't mind. All too often had she seen magical architecture.

"Don't mind the oddness of this place,"she said, smiling with a slight sigh,"It is like I said, a mage made it. All too familiar am I with the extravegence of many a mage." She headed for the stair, climbing it, and was at the top, though from the bottom one might think it would never end. It was made of marble, and faintly could be seen magical inscriptions, marks upon the stone, dancing with golden light that seemed to be brought forth from the expansive windows cut into the tree, which were unapparent from the outside. Standing as the top of the stair, she looked to her right, gesturing towards doors of knotted wood. Her voice echoed as she stated,"There are rooms down that hallway. Three, I believe, that shall bare us for the night. In the morning, we should awaken to the forest. This place will leave only when we are safe to go. Should you like to leave before hand, an oak stands behind this tree. Walk through it and you will be returned to the forest, though I would not advise that. The berzerkers are still about."

He gave brief and short nods at her explanation, accepting them at face value and not going any further then that. He truly did give her his trust, as for some reason, she had done something extrordinary to earn it. He gave her a sidelong glance as he thought this, almost forcing himself to pull his eyes away after gazing at her for a few more precious seconds. He let his wandering eyes rest on the beautiful and multiple colors of the sky, letting himself get lost within the canvas of nature. At the first twinkling of stars, he reacted delightedly, the corners of his mouth turning up in a peaceful smile as he focused on the bright diamonds. He truly looked happy to be in this place, staring at the night sky and letting himself get caught up in each and every single twinkle.

He couldn't completely see clearly, the small tufts of his hair falling in front of his eyes like they had always done. With a little sigh, he called upon the magics held within his blade, and cast a Control Winds spell. The cool breeze gently picked up and tossed away the hair, as it had done so many times before at Ethstar's solid command. As he stared at the star, words came to his lips, a single beautiful note, never falling or rising. He had never been trained at the art of song, and the only note he knew was this meager one. "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little star..." A full smile bloomed across his face as he let the words drift away into the oncoming night air, the Angel looking truly captured by the hidden beauty he found in the night sky. He had always been one for darkness and night, and this plane held nothing different for his natural desires.

The next thing that managed to catch his eye was the large tree, which he looked upon at about the same time Amaranth started to head toward it. He automatically began to follow her, his boots lightly and silently treading upon the gentle and soft blades of grass. He was almost afriad to crush it, to ruin the beauty of this place. But it seemed it would be okay, or at least that is what the soothing calm told him. A strange type of calm that issued through his body, and that issued whenever he let his gaze fall upon a certian girl of the wind that was right in front of him. His eyes were focused on her flowing blonde hair, as if entranced by it. It was the same colors of the grain and straw he had seen in the fields, and wondered so ferviously about. He had never quite figured out what the blades of golden grass were, but he had enjoyed the color. He found that much enjoyment and more within the color's of Amaranth's hair.

As she entered the small opening, he basically had to get down on both knees and slowly scoot his way into the trunk. Upon entering, instead of it being cramped as he had once thought, it was actually quite spacious. He quickly shot up from his humiliating pose on the ground, hopping from knees to feet in a matter of seconds. His cheeks were a delightful color of red as he coughed a little, trying not to act like a total buffoon in front of the girl he had saved just moments before this had all happened. At her explanation of why it was so roomy inside, another simple nod was gien. He was quite used to it as well, for the Celestial being's had been quite particular on making magical rooms. Quite handy, or at least that is what he had been told. His magics had always been limited to spells to be used in battle, usually quick and quiet ones, not the large and flashy mess that he had seen battle-mages with so many times before. Like he had earlier, he simply followed her, walking with a quick pace behind her floating figure. As they reached the next room, his mind was thinking over the markings he had seen on the steps. He had always been a studious one of magics, and the symbols fascinated him. Yes, perhaps he was easily amused. But it was one way to keep life interesting. He let his gaze gently rest on Amaranth as she spoke, politely waiting until she was finished before he let loose his own reply. As she spoke, he found himself once more losing himself. She was beautiful. He had already seen beautiful women on this plane, but this girl... it was a different kind of beauty. He couldn't understand it.

"Thank you, milady. You have been quite kind to me, and if there is any way I can pay you back, I will gladly do so." He gave her another low and graceful bow, then turned, heading down toward one of the rooms. For him, it was hard to do that, to pull his gaze away from her. Once more the comparison of her being oddly magnetic to his eyes crossed his mind, but he let the thought drift away. He would be able to look upon her tommorow. It really wasn't all that sad that he couldn't watch her more tonight. Even though it was. He would soon disappear into one of the doors, but not before looking back at the girl and giving her a smile and a wave. "Goodnight, milady Amaranth. Pleasant dreams." And so he was gone.

Amaranth gazed upon Ethstar as he turned to the door, pulling his eyes from hers. She did not want him to disappear behind the door, to be revealed only in morning light. Couldn't sleep waiting but a moment's glance more? Queitly, as though speaking for his ears alone to hear, she spoke," You have saved me. More than that, perhaps. Goodnight, Ethstar." And as he too said farewell, he disppeared behind knotted wood. Her hand, already upon the door to her room, opened it, and her feet brought her across the threshold.

She lay upon the bed for a long while, staring at the ceiling that was enchanted to mirror the night sky. The stars twinkled in their blanket of blackness, reflecting in her eyes, as though her gleaming orbs were made of night. In her she found no desire for sleep, and the linen sheets that were soft and inviting she took no heed in. Her eyes, however, would not follow her heart, and what she did not want was what she recieved. Slowly, her eyes began to close, and she fell into sleep. Into the night.

"Amaranth," cooed a voice, sweet and thick, aromatic like honey,"Wake my dear."
The curtain of blackness that'd sheilded vision up until this pointed was drawn back, revealing golden light and mayflies zooming about a field. It seemed as the one outside her window at that very moment, golden and silky, rippling like a sea of sunlight. A face met her vision, round and smooth like her own, but tanned. Her mother's black eyes stared into her own, her wavy black locks hanging down like vines of black silk. Her mother picked her up, for Amaranth was only about ten years of age now, short and slender in her childhood. Sleepily, she asked," What happenned, Mama?"

Her mother laughed, her giggles sweet like nectar to her ears, as her mother rocked her back and forth in her arms. In the same, sweet, cooing voice she said," You had a fall, my dear, but you're safe now." Her mother's eyes, filled with laughter, held her own. But suddenly, as if she were gazing into the eyes of someone else entirely, the eyes became cold, and frightening. And, once more, they were light. Quietly, frightened, Amaranth asked," Mama?" But, then her mother was gone, and she was alone in the golden feild. She cried again for her mother, and found her voice had aged incredibly, and she was twenty once more. The feild had aged, too.

Everything was grey, even unto the sky. The plants were wilted and dead, the trees brittle and angry and knotted, their bark paled. They seemed as old men, wrinkled, their limbs crooked as though with arthritis, joints swelled. Stunned, she waited, expecting something to happen. In a matter of seconds, she felt a hand about her neck, and the sensation of being strangled was the only thing that she could feel. She squeaked, her voice muffled,"Ethstar!" But, he did not come. Desperately, she scratched at her throat, expecting to find a hand clasped around it, but found only her neck. She called his name, her voice becoming inaudible. Taking what seened night be one last precious breath, she accepted the fact that she would die, and...

Amaranth bolted upright in her bed, unrestrained by sheets. A slender hand went to her neck, checked for bruises, and fell to her side. Her breaths were hurried and her heart punded, beating, beating like some wild drummer. Gracefully, she stood up, smoothing out her silky hair, and gazed towards the enchanted ceiling. It was still the dead of night, the stars smiling down at her, unaware of what horrors sleep had wrought for her. Silently, she opened her bedroom door, and floated down the stone stairs, reaching the springy floor of moss that awaited. She crouched down, fitting through the opening at the base of the tree quite easily. The night air met her with a serenity unmatched by any other mortal night. The feild, gold by daylight, seemed wrought of silver now, spattered with saphires and blood rubies. She sat amongst the swaying grass, out away from the tree and the forests. The tall stalks rached up to her knees, which were tucked up to her chest, within which beat a heart that was beginning to calm. Amaranth didn't dare to close her eyes, again. Give me one night, she pleaded to whatever thing that might hear her thoughts, One night where I will not fear these visions.

Once inside the room, his movements were quick and simple. He took off the cloak and threw it to the side, revealing himself in a simple short-sleeved shirt and black pants. His muscles were evident, and the only reasn this thought crossed his mind is because they were aching. His shoulderblades were achin as well, the magic that held his wings in disquise keeping a permanant pain throughout his limbs. So many different forms of pain were within him, both mental and physical. With a deep sigh, he slowly walked over to the bed in the corner, and let himself lay down. His eyes did not take in the room, but instead focused on the sky, or what he thought to be the sky. This time around, he did not look at the stars. He looked at the darkest spot he could find, and let himself drift away within that black shade. Just like her eyes. The night sky was the exact same color. With this thought firmly imbedded in his brain, sleep quickly overtook him, letting his mind and body rest for a few short hours.

He was dreaming. At the same time as the lady so close to his room, his own personal nightmares were beginning to overtake his sleeping soul.


A young boy dashed his way through the crowded streets of the city, his bright blue eyes searching for one figure in a throng of hundreds. In his right hand, he clutched a paper notice, one h had to deliver soon. He had been searching for a while now, and still the conestant had not shown himself. He might have to go back and report a forfeit on behalf of the one known as Taren Solther. Deciding to rest for a moment, he slowed his hurried pace and let his shoulder lean agaisnt a nearby wall, probably one of the many buildings that crowded the great town. He sighed to himself and tried to calm his breathing, which had become quite rough after about an hour of searching, running full blown through the steets. He lifted his left hand and ran it through his blonde strands of hair, a few beads of sweat caking his hand as he did so.

"I heard you were looking for me?"

The emotionless void of a voice echoed out from behind him, easily causing his heart to skip a beat. In one swift motion, he fully spun, bringing himself face to face with whatever it was who had snuck up on him. When his eyes connected with the being behind him, hhe gapsed, and pulled back one step. It was simply a man in a cloak and hood, each item a black shade. But that wasn't the problem. The young boy could almost feel the cold presence of the man pressing against his heart, could almost feel icy fingers probing his soul. Some kind of unknown fear bubbled up within his heart, his mind coming to one swift conclusion. He was somehow, someway, in an extreme kind of danger. He took another step back, and then the stranger's words finally struck. "You... you are Taren...?" His voice came out slightly high, a slight whining tone to it. He stuck out his hand, not really caring if the man was Taren, merely wanting to leave as soon as possible. "Your match is agaisnt Knight, in the acid pits." He spit out the words and took another step back, then spun around and basically ran away, trying to escape all the horrible feelings within his heart and soul. The cloaked one watched him calmly for a moment, then looked down to the paper. Acid pits. Lovely. In one graceful motion, he swung around, and started off toward the arena, black boots taking firm steps, no sound coming forth from the movements. It was time.

----------------

Taren walked out onto the wooden bridge, letting his body lead him onto the wooden support. He was a interesting figure to behold. Standing at about six feet tall, the tall and lanky figure was shrouded within a black cloak and hood, the only other seeable feature being night-black leather boots. Everywhere the eye would look, they would find dark tendrils of shadow. Small threads would be slithering around the outside of the cloak, and even spawning from the inside of the pitch-black hood. The aura of danger was still there, yet probably not able to be felt just yet. Only close proximity would allow it to be felt, unless the opponent was one talented in sensing aura. Cold, hidden eyes would quickly scan the arena, taking in everything about it and commiting it to battle strategy.

The acid wouldn't provide any worry, he had his ways of dealing with it. However, the landscape of the island would turn out to be important, so it was best he readied himself for it now. A few straggled trees were stretched out across the expanse of earth, casting a few shadows here and there. The sky was clear and bright, rays of sun beaming down upon the quant little scene. As he was studying the scenery, his footsteps took him across the wooden bridge, and onto the green grass.

It was time.

He WILL find you. And you WILL die.

His eyes snapped awake, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop from crying out in fear. His skin was wet and cool to the touch, clammy almost. He could feel his clothes soaked through with sweat, his own body fluids causing the wet liquids to pull his clothing agaisnt his pale skin. It was as if all the things in the dream had drained him of what color he had once had, sucking the life from his lips in one sweet kiss of dark and cold death. He blinked, pulling his hand away from his mouth to let it rest on his side. With some mental effort, he forced his sleepy body up and out of the bed, his movements slow, yet still graceful. He didn't even bother to grab the cloak on the floor, he simply headed for the door. He needed outside, away from this place of haunting dreams. Away from sleep, which was now his greatest enemy. His movements were completely silent, each step carefully taken as not to wake the sleeping girl within the next room. He simply took the same path back that he had taken to get here in the first place, and soon found himself crouching through the small opening at the bottom of the tree. He soon felt the night air hit his face, and he stood up, his tall frame unfolding, and his eyes settling upon the landscape in front of him. It was a beautiful scene. His heart marvelled at the natural beauty of nature, and this seemed to be it's peak. His eyes drifted over the silver and the red of the night grass, and yet soon settled on one lone girl, sitting on the ground in silence. He raised one eyebrow in question, then moved gracefully, his quick and quiet steps bringing him to her, and to sit down beside of her. He had once been amazed at tall stalks of grass such as these, ones that reached quite high on his sitting form. Yet now he only had thoughts for the distressed looking girl on his side. Warm thoughts and feelings flooded his body, and somewhere in the middle, a form of worry that he hadn't felt in a long time. His eyes focused on her pretty features, and he spoke, his voice quiet. "Milady? Shouldn't you be getting sleep? You have had a rough day."

The night was quiet around Amaranth, the moon's round face looking down at her, smiling, shining upon her a white light so pure she seemed made from her environment. Her hair, soft and luminescent seemed of the grass around her, shining silver in the night. The pale skin wrapped around her figure seemed to glow in the night, giving off a light shine, her dress projected the same vibrance, but stonger and more vibrant. Her eyes, never leaving the ruby flower before her, reflected every detail around her in their black glassy surface. Rather suddennly, however, her eyes were pulled from the delicate bloom, taken to the man beside her. She could feel the warmth of him seated next to her own, and her locked fists relaxed, muscles coming loose, as though the glue holding them in place was being ever so carefully pried away. Ethstar's words flowed into the night air like water down the stream that gurgled not far beside them. She let her soul float on those words, headed for the moon it seemed, far from this land. Quietly, she replied,"I couldn't sleep. I...I had a nightmare. I always have nightmares."

She gazed into his pale eyes, her soul swimming into his. It was like reading his heart, as though he had narrated it all himself and was proudly giving the new book to her, for her to read and for her alone. These pages seemed hers exclusively, and she savored every word, her eyes tracing the soft shapes of the imaginary letters. He was concerned, that was the first, most foremost page, and behind that sat a layer of worry, and behind it pain. Pain, she found, to be physical and mental. What had night brought to him? Did these ill meant ghosts of dreams present themselves to him as they did her? They were the same, the two of them, but different. They were like snowflakes, the same in that they were both made of ice, down to every molecule they were the same, but they were expressed differently on the outside. The same inside, in their souls. She could see it in his eyes. It was strange, to find someone who's soul was made of the same elements as her own. It was like remembering something long forgotten but always there. It was primal, this thing she felt revealed inside her. It went down to her core, every fiber of her being knew it like she knew her name. She couldn't find words to describe it. She kept it that way. Her eyes would tell him.

Quietly, she continued, gazing steadily into his eyes," It was like dying, in that dream. I though I'd never come out of it, Ethstar." Her voice and her lock on his eyes faltered, and she let her eyes droop to the ground, tracing the curves of a delicate petal of a sapphire daisy. Her fingertips, light and delicate, severed the daisy from it's root. She twirled it between her index finger and her thumb, smiling as moonlight reflected from it's delicate yellow face and onto her's. Sitting indian style, her long milky gown spilling onto the grass, she held the daisy in her cupped hands, examining it as though it were the finest diamond money could buy. It's petals, soft as silk between her fingers, all fell perfectly into place, untarnished by insect or disease. It was a marvel this place, so quiet and still. No mayflies, like the ones from the night vision, took flight in the pristine air, nor did bird or beast. It was only leaf and limb, surrounded by air. It was a pitty that it would be gone in the morning, that they would be suddenly in the earthly forest once more, instead of this enchanted place. The daisy, too perfect to be real, would be gone, for it was not real; it was magic. Magic ran through the veins of it's leaves, through the hills and valleys of it's soft petals, and laced itself through the stem that never showed any sign of withering. Quietly, her eyes focused on the daisy evermore, she whispered to herself,"I don't want to wake up from this dream."

"Ethstar," Amaranth said, a slight tone of urgency in her voice; she was asking him now something that'd been bothering her for a while," When I was on the ledge, before I fell unconcious, I remember seeing a figure flying towards me. I thought it was my mother at first, her being an Avariel Elf, and all. She's dead. It couldn't have been her. It was you, wasn't it?" She thought back to the splendour of those wings, to what sheer surprise and emotion they had evoked.They were beautiful, truly and simply, as all feather wings are. They are the majestic symbol of flight, something she had longed for always. Not so much did she want those giant wings (which she knew could be cumbersome), she wanted the delightful sensation of being far from the ground. Then, after this thought had passed, she realized how impolite she had been. Nervously, she blushed slightly, averting her gaze, though it was quickly stolen back. Quickly, she added,"I'm being awfully intrusive, aren't I?"

Nightmares. They haunted even the most innocent of these people, toyed with the frail nerves and hideous thoughts of the most gentle of minds. His eyes remained gentle and open as she looked to him with eyes of bonding. He could feel it, he could feel the strings of her heart reaching out toward him and entwining with his own, turning them into a single being once more. He could almost sense the movements she was making that could not be picked up by the width of his gaze, a few being the toying with the flower and the slight shifting of her dress in sudden little breezes of warmth. It was as if by just looking into her gaze, he could easily tell what the rest of her body was doing. His own muscles gently relaxed, the taunt objects slowly loosening, letting his guard down even more then it already was. His mind puzzled over what nightmares she may have, what they would contain and how they had effected her so. His mind briefly flashed with images of his own dark nightmares, causing the features of his face to slightly twitch in some random emotion that the memories had brought own. He mentally shoved the thoughts from his head though, forcing himself to focus on the night-black eyes of the girl sitting next to him. There was something in that gaze. Something besides all the other emotions. Something he couldn't put his finger on, but something he wanted to reach out and touch.

He felt his own hand go down to the grass, he could vaguely feel the digits of his thumb and index finger close around the base of a flower. Disappointment fled throughout his veins as she dropped her gaze, although he could not understand why that particular emotion would be plaguing him at the moment. As he heard her speak her fears, he automatically answered, his gaze replacing all former emotions with gentleness. "Nightmares? They are a bother, aren't they milady?" A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes still filled with warmth and gentleness. "I doubt I can say anything that will make them go away. But in your moments of fear, even in the nightmares... try to smile. Try to hold onto the opposite. Try to hold onto the dreams you never want to go away, try to hold on to the treasures you have stored within the depths of your heart." And with those words, he pulled his eyes from her cheek to slowly slide them down to the flower he held, to find out he was holding a rose. In a change that was not likely to be seen, he blinked, and his eyes snapped to a different, terrifying emotion. Just like they had hours before, the pupils dilated to a barely seeable dot, and the color thinned around that small dot. He could feel the muscles snapping taunt in his arms, the banded biceps and triceps flexing themselves without any conscience will on Ethstar's part. He stared at the rose, intensity and darkness leaking from that deadly gaze.

"He is dead." The two men stood above the bloodied Angel who lay still on the floor, his throat slit. His eyes were still open though, yet the beautiful green eyes held the gaze of empty death. His sword was still sheathed on his side, his armor still on his body. There were no signs of struggle, and whatever it was that had killed the Angel hadn't even given the Celestial time to draw his blade. Either that, or the Celestial simply hadn't known that someone was there to kill him, to end his life. But that wasn't all. As the two other Celestial's stared at the dead one with a sense of puzzlement and anger in their eyes, their gaze would soon be pulled to the next item in line. The man had his arms folded over his chest, his hands tightly clutching a single flower. A bloodstained rose.

Blinking at the memory, he roughly brought his gaze away from the gorgeous flower, dropping it suddenly as if someone had lit it in fire. He almost frantically pulled his eyes to the girl, the orbs returning to their normal looks as he sought her gaze in a attempt to escape from his memories, to find peace from his past. They connected with her eyes as she looked up at him, and it was as if everything melted away. She was the only one that remained in his mind. And it was then when he found peace. Yet it was not to last long, for her question was soon spoken, and his body soon reacted likewise. It was a reaction that was the same that had been given to the rose. The eyes changed to deadly intensity, and the emotions within cut her off. It was like a cold and dark wall had been slammed in between their connecting emotions, breaking the link they had formed in that night. She may see the pain and hurt, the anger and hate, she might be able to glimpse it before the cold wall slid into place to form a carefully guarded gaze. The emotions weren't directed at her. They were simply inside of him, somehow ripping him apart from the inside. He knew he had no room to lie, and for some reason, he wasn't sure if he could have anyway. He didn't want to lie to her. He wanted her to trust him, to know he would never lie. The smile fell from his face, a cold line in place.

"Yes. You are being intrusive." He didn't even blink. He knew this was likely to hurt her. And he didn't want to. But that person that didn't want to wasn't being applied at this moment. It was trying to be, but it wasn't quite making it. "But then again, why wouldn't you be?" He debated. Should he show her? It had worked with Amy. But then again, he didn't really have any other option. She hadn't said she thought she had seen someone with wings. She said she had. Sighing slightly, he stood, the muscles tightening in his body once again, his long limbs slowly unfolding to put himself at full height. "Prepare yourself, milady." He kept her eyes locked in his, and found that something was going wrong. Somehow, she was pulling down the walls. That emotion that he had seen earlier, that he hadn't been able to understand... it was ripping away at his defense. The former link, it was surging, and he didn't know if he could keep it back.

Physical pain twisted his face for a moment, and then it happened. Out of his back, in a explosion of motion... two beautiful wings flexed themselves, spreading to full glory behind his figure. They were smaller then most wings, but not by much. Bandages hung from them for some odd reason, white taping that didn't have wounds to cover. They just hung there. And that was when his wall fell. His eyes were released, the link they had somehow formed heightened, and he felt all of his emotions revealing themselves to her. Anger, hatred, mental agony, and above all, a deep sense of pain and betrayal. A pain that completely tormented him, that shattered his soul from the inside. "I am a Angel." His muscled flexed even more, and suddenly, a raging sense of darkness exploding from his being. A dark force, not evil... but tainted. Not by himself. But by others. A dark aura that he was completely aware of, but when it was released, the emotional pain and agony in his face grew even more. "Or rather... one who has Fallen." He took a deep breath, his eyes brimming over with intense emotion. He didn't want her to be scared of him, he didn't want to hurt her, he didn't want her to run. To leave him. That reflected as well, a overbearing amount of emotion being portrayed to her.

"I am a Fallen Angel."

It hurt more than anything Amaranth had ever encountered to see Ethstar's reaction to her question. His words, cold and sharp, stung like a blade, peircing their link. She could feel it break, and almost whimpered in pain, as though it was something both physical and spiritual. He had torn it away, letting it rip at the seams, and replace it with a wall of nothingness. His eyes changed, become fierce and unsettling, her inquiry filling him up like a lethal toxin, unleashing an entirely different Ethstar. His irises barely seemed blue any more, like they had become some otherworldly color she didn't wish to encounter again. Her lower lip trembled, as she felt herself crumble on the inside. He seemed to writhe within himself with an anger like she had never seen, and she wasn't sure whether it was directed at her or if she had just dirged it up from his past. He was debating himself, unsure of answering her question. All the while, her gaze bore holes into his eyes, trying to break down the walls he had constructed to keep her away from whatever it was he had to hide. He made up his mind, his guard beginning to weaken. He stood up, and she followed his lead, their bodies far enough from eachother so that she could nolonger feel the warmth he'd radiated previously.

And then, the walls fell away. "I am a Fallen Angel." The words caught her ears and he became the only thing she was aware of. The world around them seemed out of focus, blurred, surreal, like he was the only real thing there. Bandages hung from his stunning wings, limply lying over the glorious feathers, nolonger needed to hide anything. She found her eyes could not leave his, the bond remade as fast as it had been broken; the dam had been destroyed to let the river run free. They were truly one thing now, their link stronger than it had ever been. She could feel their souls meshing, intertwining, becoming one whole and solid entity. She could feel his overwhelming pain, and suddenly she understood his entire life, as though she had lived it. She knew not names, not dates, not details, she simply understood. There was a darkness that covered him, but it was not self-imposed. It was something forced upon him, something he did not desire. She could feel every breath he took as though she took it, their hearts beating as one. Every tiny muscle that moved, every involuntary spasm, they seemed to share. They were close now, she could feel again the warmth of his being, but more overwhelming were the intense emotions he felt. They felt.

"Ethstar," she whispered, almost inaudibly. Her eyes left his, but the link was still there; it did not wax or wane. A pale, quivering hand met a feather wing. Physical contact seemed only to make the pain more intense, but she knew he was feeling it too. A gentle finger traced a soft feather, the moon looking on in it's black sky. The night stars all seemed to look on, watching intently, the environment becoming interested in every moment. Her hand left his wing, and she stared into his eyes yet again. Quietly, she heaved a soft sighing sob, uttering the words," I know you. I've always known you." Her arms, thin and quaking, wrapped themselves around him, the emotion that surged through her becoming all the more intense as she buried her head in his chest, regarding no longer what was proper and what was not. She had known this man forever. This much was clear and unquestionable.

The pain began to ebb away, drifting away as she let her eyes close. Amaranth felt feeble, drained even, but his presence provided an overpowering sense of security. Her eyes drifted to their surroundings while she listened to their heart beats thudding in perfect time. She had stopped crying, her tearstained face as pale and milky as the moon, her eyes shining with starlight. More than anything she hoped they would just stay there, that the enchantment would not act as it was made to, that the mage would have made some sort of folly and that they could return to this everlasting glory. The sky was beginning to pale where it met land, and she knew the sun would begin it's ascent, soon. Too soon. She wanted this moment to last an age. She would rather have spent one night there with him then live out the rest of the ages in Imythess alone. She closed her eyes again, telling herself that the sun was not going to come up that day. The night would be eternal. That sweet, sacred night would last forever.

He simply gazed at her as his wings unfolded themselves, his eyes still overflowing with all of the emotions that humans could possibly feel at one point in time, all of those intense feelings that both made man, and broke man. He could feel his muscled trembling, if it was either from all of the flexing he had put them through, or if because the emotion of fear was shining through brighter then some of the rest. He visibly tightened his body as her soft fingers headed for one of his soft wings, the look on his face turning to one of worry, strangely enough. "No... You might... I might stain you..." He tried to command his body to go backwards, but it wouldn't. He couldn't move from their link, it was holding them too closely together, tying hm to the spot they were in. He tried to pull his eyes from her face, tried to focus on the blurred reality that was anything but the two of them, and it never worked. His eyes deseprately searched hers for some kind of redeeming light, to be blessed with the beauty of that link that they had somehow built. He seemed to glow brighter as she stared into his eyes after touching his wings, his eyes sparkling with some kind of new rebirth as every emotion she felt slowly ran throughout his veins.

As she wrapped her arms around him, she would likely feel his body tense up at her touch, his first reaction being to shy away. Once again, somewhere in the warm blur that was his thoughts, he worried about somehow staining her beauty, somehow accidently staining her perfect self with part of the dark aura he had somehow managed to aquire. Soon enough though he would slowly relax, his soul lulled into peace by the steady and togetherness of their beating hearts. His muscles would slowly go at ease in her arms, his own arms hesitantly coming up to wrap around her in a unashamed display of affection. He let his cheek rest on the top of her hair, let her golden strands gently soften the resting place for his cheek. He simply stood there in the changing colors of the coming dawn, holding onto her for dear life, words not yet coming to his lips. Like her own desires, he simply wanted to stay here for as long as he possibly could, let himself get lost in his own little world of security and peace.

For that is what it was. He had been wary at first, guarded, tense and ready to get hurt, to have her run, to have her do something that would destroy the small amount of ultimate trust he had shown her with giving her a look at his wings. He had cut off the connection so he would have clear judgement, so he could be as hard as he possibly could so the pain that might very well come would not hurt as badly. Perhaps he could steel himself from it. And something deep inside of him did not want to feel the fact that he had hurt her feelings in those first few moments. So he had cut off the connection, cut off the thing that he hadn't come to understand, but enjoyed anyway. And he hadn't been able to. His heart and soul had longed for them to be one being once again, and he could do nothing to contain it. Whatever the emotion he was feeling, it desperately wanted to get entangled in Amaranth, to stay with her and never leave. It made HIM want to never leave. He let loose a shaky smile, his lips moving as he whispered into her ear.

"Thank you. From... the bottom of my heart, thank you. Amaranth." He hugged her firmer, tighter, pulling her agaisnt him and increasing his longing for this moment to continue on. "I am sorry I was so... guarded... but..." The smile on his face grew a little, and he pulled back from their embrace, his hands lingering on her body before moving away. His eyes searched for hers and found them, locking her black, glistening orbs in his own sky blue gaze. "You understand. Don't you." It wasn't a question. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew she understood him. That he had been guarded for fear of somehow getting hurt again, of something somehow scarring him again. But somewhere in the middle, the walls that had been blocking her out had crumbled, leaving them both within their own little private fantasy world. His eyes fled to the setting landscape, or rather, the beginning of a new day, where they would have to leave this place and be placed within the confines of the world outside. His eyes danced back to hers, the look of disappointment only lasting until he had connected his sight with her again.

He wanted to stay. To stay here. He didn't know why, he could not explain it, but he simply wanted to keep this moment alive. He wanted to wrap his arms around her again, to hug her again, to lose himself in what they had made together. A slight breeze picked up the edges of his feathers and the bandages, and ruffled them gently, the action of nature graciously giving him a cooling feeling that spread through the aching bones of his back, and the pains in his wings. It was ignored though. He had lived with it for so long, nothing was different now.

Amaranth nodded, letting a weak, though sincere, smile cross her face. She did understand him, perhaps even more than she sometimes understood herself. Every detail of his being, every shred of his soul-She had seen it. She had felt everything he had ever felt, and he had felt everything she had ever felt. And now, she had a name for their precious link. It was love. Love truer than she had ever felt. She had seen that kind of love once before; it was the love her parents had shared. Thier eyes filled with light that burned brighter than any fire when they saw eachother. She remembered how her father had reacted to her mother's death, how their parting had changed him forever. He became quiet, weak, and depressed, farther than simple grief could explain. The person he'd shared his soul with was gone, and he was left like a dead husk, empty and shallow. Her father had died with her mother that day. All he saw when he looked upon his daughter was the memory of his wife; that's why he left, to avenge a memory long passed into shadow and grief. Immortality seemed more of a curse than ever before, for Amaranth knew that if anything should happen to Ethstar she would be left alone unto the ending of the world. Glancing at the approaching day, she felt dread well up from her heart.

The dawning sun seemed a condemning force. It pulled away the moon who had shined upon them so brilliantly that night, making the stars leave as well. It's bright yellow face was halfway above the horizon; the feeling of dread increased. She gazed into Ethstar's eyes, the promise of love running deep within them. His eyes were as blue as the new azure sky. They were made of day, like her's were wrought of night. Day would not be so bad; the memory of him lingered in the very sky. Gracefully, she wrapped her arms around him once more, keeping her eyes locked in his just before closing them, for she did not want to see the change that was about to take place. His body was warm against her own, and she could feel their hearts beating as though they were one heart and one alone, for they beat in perfect time. Softly, she whispered," It's coming. The day is arriving to bring us back. I don't want to leave."

The foolish mage's spell was holding up it's promise. The magic was leaving the place, fading and swirling into nothing but golden dust that danced on the breeze that'd become slightly chilled. Strong was the wind as it picked up speed, blowing away the delicate flowers that gave way to the forest floor beneath their feet. The great tree was swept away like nothing more than dust on a mantle, replaced by the aromatic pines. Sunlight dimmed, filtered through the thick canopy of needles that replaced open sky. Soft grass was replaced by dry needles that crackled and crunched, the air filled with the thick scent of pine trees. The gurgling brook that'd bubbled not far from them had disappeared, it's quiet noise replaced by the even softer whisper of the now gentle wind through the branches around them. Together they stood beneath the white arms of the birch they had entered, it's golden leaves rustling in the breeze. Opening her eyes, Amaranth looked up to find the bright blue day peeking thro