A cold shiver ran up Meera's spine as her rain soaked cloak seeped into the bare skin on her shoulders. She wasn't bothered by the downpour that had gotten her in this state, and yet she still had her hood up over her drenched hair. The normal flouncing amber waves of her hair now hung limp down by her cheeks. Adding to her damp demeanor, Meera's flashing golden emerald eyes had gone dull. They no longer sparkled with life. Her boots splashed down into puddles with the steady drudging steps of a soldier with no end in sight. Her listless eyes eventually latched on one thing though. They flashed with recognition for a split second, then dulled back and lost their short glow. Though her destination was in sight, Meera's pace did not quicken. She had all the time in the world to get there. Nothing was going to change if she made it a split-second earlier. When she eventually did get to the door, she wrenched it open with such force that it slammed against the back wall and caused many of the patrons to look up. The bar was already noisy, but Meera's entrance was louder. She was practically unrecognizable with her rain soaked appearence and her sunken demeanor so no one even gave her a second glance. Meera headed straight back to the bar without even bothering to take off her dripping cloak. Nothing mattered. She just felt horrible. With a slight moan of discontent, Meera settled herself on the stool. The bartender, normally very gruff, sensed the lady's discomfort and softened his tone to a low growl as he asked, "What yeh like?" Meera closed her eyes and rubbed her temples for a moment before answering. When she did, she said "Water." No please, no thank you. Meera was polite on a regular basis, but not tonight. Tonight she was distracted.

Something was wrong, something was out of place, but she didn't know just what it was. She was irritated, offbeat, and something just kept digging in the back of her mind. Meera had not gotten much sleep. She had the feeling that would be happening a lot until she find out just what had her feeling like this. There wasn't really much that could set her off, but Meera couldn't put her finger on it. The bartender, wanting nothing to do with female emotions, stayed a good distance away and instead slid Meera's drink along the countertop. She caught it robotically and almost upon reflex tilted it to her lips. The liquid seeped but did not quench her undying thirst. A small whimper escaped her lips. Biting down hard on the bottom one, Meera cursed herself. She knew that no one had heard her, it was far too loud, but she just sounded so pitiful. There wasn't even anything directly to be upset about. Just, something made her feel so depressed and sad. It was almost like she would be getting bad news very soon. Shaking her head violently, Meera tried to rid her head of the nasty thoughts, but only succeeded in flinging water droplets all about. With a soft sigh, Meera slipped off of her stool and grabbed a booth. She just needed to relax. Balefire was possibly the only place where she could do this with a very slim chance that she would be recognized. Besides, it was raining here. Meera adored the rain. If nothing else, that could brighten her mood in just the slightest. Running her fingers through her hair, Meera settled into her new seat. Great. Now she could have time to think. She really needed that. Her temple had become more and more like a cage. She felt so restrained. Though she really loved being a goddess dearly, she never got to see her friends anymore. She began to feel like a lonesome figure rather than the woman that she still was.

In other words, Meera needed companionship. She had her animals, but they only got you so far. How helpful could you be to yourself if you kept insisting that you did have friends, it was just a horse though? Meera needed to talk. She was a social person. Usually, Meera talked a lot. She spoke to her friends frequently. Now, she was the one who was being spoken to. Meera had been transferred to listener. It wasn't that she didn't like doing it. Meera was a good listener. It just got frustrating sometimes. She couldn't very well unload her problems on some poor mortal who had come to seek her help in the first place. It was just so hard sometimes. Meera wished she could figure out what was wrong in the balance and just fix it. She couldn't go on like this anymore. Things just became so frustrating and she couldn't do her job right. When that happened, nobody was happy. Meera didn't want to affect the world in that negative of a way. It was just not going to happen. Clenching her hands in fists against her stomach, Meera gritted her teeth. If only it were physical pain. That was so much easier to deal with. It had an exact cause and usually an exact cure. Sighing, Meera lay her head down against the long worn oak of the table. Life was rough and Meera wasn't handling it very well. She had a long way to go.

If it were possible the downpour of rain only increased after the downtrodden woman managed to push her way through the heavy gales and into the town where it was both safer and warmer. The wind cut like a dull blade across the body. Lightning lanced across the sky, striking ground with a thunderous clap that shook the buildings within Balefire. It seemed the denizens of the city were in for a rough night. No doubt many would drown out the noise within the taverns. Drinking away there problems and forgetting them in the presence of good companionship. Even still the heavy thundering of frequent lightning could not be ignored forever.

Just outside the city was where this particular story began. Though it is said lightning never strikes in the same place twice it seems the way of things was in a momentary state of disarray. Again and again a bolt struck ground just outside of the city limits. Pounding a depression into the earth in a shower of rock and dirt. There was very little time between each strike. It seemed as if the thunder god himself was attacking mother earth for some unknown wrong. The dark sky lit up with the blinding white of lightning lancing across the sky. An eerie noise sounding a lot like a distant scream accompanied it, echoing out across the lands. Seconds afterward the lightning struck for its last time. It smashed to earth with a thunderous roar, shaking the buildings to their very foundations.

The small depression of earth where the first bolt had struck had grown with every blow until it had become a small crater. Just barely big enough fo a full grown man or woman to lay fully stretched out within. As it were, that’s exactly what was in there. A man sat trembling on his hands and knees. A smoldering steam rolled off his muscular form. As if he had just passed through the fires of hell and the humid climate of Balefire was nothing to match. Att the moment his face was concealed beneath the hood of his cloak. A cloak that was so white it shined with pure brilliance in the sunlight. It was marred now. Stained with the crimson of someone else’s lifeblood. His arms were bare, the muscles beneath the skin rippling into knotted steel as his hands clenched the upturned dirt.

Finally the man rose, the hood of his cloak falling back over shoulder length hair the color of raven’s feathers. Eyes of a glacial blue stared out of a face that was tinted a bronze to match his arms and, no doubt, the physique beneath the clothing. It was a face of nobility. It held an air of confidence even in the face of a rage that had the muscles in his jaw line flexing as he ground his teeth. He stood with a deadly poise of someone who knew the world of death. Knew it intimately and was not one to hesitate to display that knowledge. A pair os scimitars hung from a belt at his waist. They were mostly concealed beneath the cloak which was tied closed with a crimson sash. Only the tips of the sheaths were visible, and those just barely. By the way he walked as he began making his way into town he knew exactly how to use them too.

Most people would bow to the wind. They kept their heads down so that it did not strike them in the face. Not this man. He seemed oblivious to it. Were it not for the tail of his cloak which whipped along behind his gait it might have seemed he cut through the wind and rain so that it did not touch him. This was not the case, obviously. He simply had other things on his mind and he focused on those things with the single minded efficiency of a trained killer. Even as his black hair began to stick to his skin as it quickly soaked through he seemed not to take any heed to the insistent storm. When he reached the first building that looked to him like it might be an inn or tavern he did not bother with the handle. Instead he simply kicked it in with such a force it nearly came off its hinges. As it were, this was not considered acceptable behavior by one of the off duty guards spending some of his sparse earnings on a drink or two.

The guard was sitting near the door. Obviously he had just gotten off duty as he was still in his uniform. His armor and helm were a bit more than the common folk could afford but that did little to save him from Lokiri’s wrath. “Who do you think you are barging in like you own the place!” he called as he stood up and raised his hand for the figure in white to stop. There was time for nothing else. In the next instant the man had seized the guards wrist and skillfully jerked it sideways. The snap of bone was heard clearly in all corners of the room as it had fallen silent as others became aware of the action at the door. The guard was hurled outside, the door banging close even before the nerves could register the mind numbing pain of a broken bone and he began to scream. The white clad figure did not slow. He had not stopped moving toward the bar even when the armed guard stood before him as an obstacle. None challenged him now. Even the bartender was reluctant to come near the man. More guards would be on the way and then the real trouble would begin. No doubt he was already calculating the cost for damages to his place.

“Wine.” The figure told the bartender. The only words he would speak for a good long while, no doubt. His voice was deep, strong and confident. It was a mirror of the fearless man who owned it. He knew all too well that more guards would come. In fact he counted on it. A man bred for warfare had little place in anything else. He was furious at being in this place. In this world. Whatever this world may be. The guards would be perfect sport to channel that rage...

Sometimes, Meera regretted having an enhanced sense. She had picked hearing, and indeed it had enhanced her hearing. Now she heard every little whisper, every little scrabble, every little fly in the wind. She had long ago learned to drown it out before she became dizzy and blacked out, but whenever Meera was tired, a headache of noise always accompanied. With a soft moan, Meera picked her head up and massaged her temple, eyes shutting gently. They were quickly flashed open once more at the sound of a door being brutishly kicked inwards. A low growl arose from Meera's throat. Someone was trouble. Meera coudl handle trouble, but a simple drunk was an annoyance. She at least hoped it was only someone who had a bad day and would cause nothing more. But alas, Meera only spied a figure in white. It was an impressive man actually. Meera's first thoughts of anger and annoyance were put on hold as her eyes scanned him. Two things were for sure now. He was not drunk, and he knew what he was doing. It did look like he was coming for trouble though. Meera was no longer bothered. In fact, she hoped this man would acheive his wish of causing a stir. Just as she had thought that, the off-duty guard jumped out of his seat and exclaimed in a over-dramatic yell for the man to stop. Meera hissed and shook her head. That was a bad move. An obvious first reaction for any trained warrior followed suit. What Meera did not expect from the white-clad man was the extra bit of throwing the guard out the door. Her brow raised as she scanned his face looking for any sign of emotion. When none met her, Meera gave out and simply watched him walk the rest of the way to the bar.

The choice had been made in her mind, Meera would meet him. This man provoked too much of a shiver down her spine for her to ignore. Biting on her bottom lip though, Meera wondered what to do. Surely, there would be more guards coming, but Meera didn't want to behave tonight. She was angry, irritated. That feeling that had her so on the edge earlier had long since changed to a stirring feeling that she needed to cause chaos and wreak a bit of havoc. She would find out what had started the feeling in the first place later. Meera stood up from her seat. She knew she looked allright, for she had chosen her light black dress and matching black corset to wear here. The rain had soaked everything and at the moment it was skin tight, clinging to her every curve, but in a bit it should have dried enough to seperate. Though Meera felt some form of inspiration to talk to the man, she was by no means cleared of her cloudy mood. Her lips were set in a thin lines, eyes dull and exhausted as if this was her dying day. She moved lightly, her boots only making a soft tap on the wooden floor, and took a seat beside the man. Meera had been lucky in this category. It wasn't too obvious, for there were no other empty seats than beside him. When he spoke, his voice evoked a certain nostalgia from within her. Aiden. How she missed him. How she yearned to feel his touch again. Where had he gone? What had become of him? Eyes closing so she could better see the memory, Meera ignored the other man for a moment. Oh Aiden. What had started as a soft sigh from her lips turned into a whine. Eyes flashing open, Meera chomped down on her bottom lip. She hadn't wanted that to come out. Now she was really irritated with herself. She needed to hit something.

Only when Meera tasted the metallic warm did she know that she needed to release her lip. She had made it bleed. Just great. Meera swiped her tongue overtop of it cleaning the blood away. There was no need to go looking like a vampire. Especially in this town. Just as she was about to look towards the man to see if he had caught any of her less-than-stupid actions, Meera heard the sound of the door opening forcefully again. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Meera knew who it would be. It was the other guards and they were coming for him. She ran on the fact that the man would know they were hear, and so Meera didn't even bother warning him. Instead, she whispered "Go ahead and teach them humility. I've got your back." And with that, Meera turned around in her stool. She rested her elbows on the bartop behind her. It was cold against her bare skin, but no feeling mattered anymore. She had given up stopping the bleeding in her lip as well. Maybe the vampire look would turn out to help them. Meera's long soaked hair and black corset dress with blood seeping down her lips would leave for no other interpretation. The guard in the front turned his attention to Meera for a quick second, his brow raising in cuirousity. Meera threw him a quick wink. Hopefully the man beside her would recognize a distraction when he saw one. Meera wasn't going to whore for him, but seducing a man was no qualm of hers.

It seemed the foolish pride of city guards did not change no matter what world you were on. The Ithilian was glad for that. Though the men who elected to be a city guard were not even worthy the level of amateur in terms of sword play they served their own purpose well enough. Tonight there purpose would be to suffer under the wrath of a warrior true. They would learn humility in its most powerful form. The way they kicked in the door, storming in the tavern with a confidence they did not deserve to hold. It was their numbers, Lokiri knew. Even the most untrained fighter felt more confident with a crowd of men at his back. It wouldn’t matter. These men would be considering a career change by day break.

The last drink of the spiced wine was like a sweet, revitalizing nectar as it slid down the man’s throat. It was difficult not to enjoy a good glass of wine and while this was not particularly fine, it was decent enough. The grating voice of the guard captain was ruining it, however. That one would not live past the night should he keep it up. With a satisfied sigh the glass was placed upon the counter. The Ithilian was just about to turn and face his would be opponents but at that moment he heard the voice of the woman who sat beside him. Until that moment he had considered it nothing more than coincidence. She had no reason to approach him, a total stranger. Were the people of this land truly so forward? It was she who turned t o face the guards, who numbered ten by the sound of them. The night seemed full of surprises, for this strange woman was now openly challenging the guards right to haul him off. He could have laughed and most likely he would have had she not turned that melodious voice unto him. So she had his back did she? An offer he had not asked for and one he did not need. Still, if this woman was anything like Ithilian women, there was a chance she would truly help.

“Sir, I will only offer this one last time.” the deep voice of the guard captain came again with irritating tone. A tone that tried its best at commanding authority. “There is no reason to ruin these people’s night. Surrender peacefully and no harm will befall you.”

There it was. The one word Loki had been expecting. The word whose meaning meant weakness. The word and or term he, an Ithilian could never commit to. “Surrender...” he said softly, as if speaking to himself. Still, in the quiet of the tavern all could hear. “...Now that’s going to be a bit of a problem.” He turned then, the white of his snowy cloak trailing around behind him like a brilliant streamer. “You see, judging by what I’ve seen from the first one who tried his luck none of you are worth the armor your wearing. I might as well let her fight you, going by what the first man could show me.”

That set the men off. With the loud ring of steel being drawn they had weapons in hand. Haggard long sword to all. Each poorly kept and most likely dull. Lokiri could see the many scrapes and dents form here. Now the fun would begin. Their stances were off balance. Their grips unsure. He would not even need to draw his own weapons. Unfortunately, what he did not stop to foresee was the effect his words might have on the woman. They was slight insult in there for her as well, though he did not intend it as so. It was cleverly hidden so perhaps she would not noticed. Somehow he doubted it...

Meera's glimmering eyes were already scanning over the ragtag team of guards that they had assembled in front of them. Hopefully for them, they would never see the likes of a real war. It would merely take half of a shot to disarm and possibly kill them. Pitiful, really. But nevertheless, they had stepped up to defend the town. It was quite possible that they could take care of the many drunks that roamed the streets, but Meera seriously doubted their capabilities and knowledge about anything else. She felt bad for a split-second, then remembered why she was here. That funny feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right. She just couldn't place what was missing. In that short lapse of thought, Meera's eyes had drifted to the side and off of the guards. That was a mistake. She quickly righted herself and sharpened her gaze. Part of her still hoped that the guards would be scared enough and run away, but she knew that would never happen. But still, this was honestly not her fight. She would back the man up, but she would not speak for him. He seemed as if he could handle himself just fine anyways. As he finally spoke and turned, Meera's eyes flicked over him for the briefest of moments. She was forced to suck in a quick deep breath as a memory of Aiden overwhelmed her. Oh god, what was going wrong with her? She pressed her eyes tightly shut, allowing for the lapse of concentration only because he was facing forwards, then flashed her eyes back open quickly.

Mouth pressed in a thin line, Meera watched the guards once more and listened to what the man had to say. Her teeth gritted together at his last sentence and her eyes flashed in witheld rage. Here she was, helping him, while he went and undermined her skill because she was a woman. That was not going to fly well. With a quick flick of her wrist, she had her dagger in her fist and pressed it up against the sensitive kidney at his back. Her other hand slipped around his waist as she stood on her tiptoes behind him and spit words of warning into his ear, "You better watch your words, sir" The emphasis on sir was cloaked in evident anger at him before she continued, "for I have much more power than you could even dream of" She would have, and could have, continued but the guards were on their toes, swords drawn at his last comment anyways. Meera stepped back around beside him and removed her dagger from his back. Now he had woken up the demon within her. She was angry. She had something to prove. Not waiting for the man's first move. Meera took a few strides towards the guards until she was standing directly in between the man and the guards. She tossed a quick, scathing look back at the man and said "I suggest you watch yourself, you're still within my radius" Without a second thought, Meera pressed the palms of her hands together and then gradually pulled them outwards producing a great flaming ball in between. Not waiting to see if the man had moved out of the way, Meera clapped her hands together and created a large fire, energy burst. The first thing that she noted was the screaming of the guards as their armor melted.

Meera had purposely not killed them. She very well could have, had she wanted to. Meera had just wanted to give the man a taste of her power. She could do more, a lot more. The wooden floor beneath them all continued to burn. Not interested in burning down the whole tavern, Meera quickly moistened the rest of the area not allowing the fire to catch hold. It could burn here as much as it wanted. The tavern owner could afford to replace it. Only now did Meera turn to see how the man had fared. Had he heeded her warning? Had he so boldly disregarded her and burned to a crisp, or had he been intelligent enough to set up some sort of his own defense from a diety's spell. Something told her that this man was still alive. The least she could hope for was that he had learned his lesson and Meera would not have to repeat herself, but this time, louder.

No matter how much Meera wanted to put this man back in his place, she knew the guards were still there. It would only be a matter of whether they were still in any condition to fight. There was still the possibility that her fire burst had not reached out to all of the guards. As the fire burned away, they would see in time.

And so it began. With the proper choice of words even the most cunning of minds can be subtly maniuplated. This woman, a lady in all appearances, had fallen perfectly in stride with his plans and she was not even aware of it. Her anger had been the ideal catalyst in this little struggle. Her stride was long, confident with sure steps. the gaze of every guard shifted to her as she camer forward, recognizing her as the obvious target. Lokiri had not moved form his position. His hads had not even left the bar counter behind him. Though his gaze was steady, his breathing slow, it was the woman who stepped forward to fight. The woman who really had no place in this confrontation, ironically enough. She stood before her opponents with an easy sureness that spoke of experience in battle. Something worthy of the Ithilians admiration. She was quickly on her way to being in his good graces. Trust worthy people were few in an Ithilian's world. This woman was quickly gaining it. Yet another feat, though she did not know it.

Her warning was unexpected. What she meant by a being in her radius, he did not know. At least, he didn't until the stench of magic began to polute the air. She could have not done anything worse to impress him. To an Ithilian the use of magic was a show of weakness. A cowardice that could never be accepted in ithilian heritage. She spoke of power, and then failed to show him anything that mattered. Eyes as blue as the northern ocean was suddenly overcome by a glacial ice. His expression hardeneing he hopped up and over the counter, ducking down behind as this strangers spell exploded with a force of fiery doom. The fire erupted overtop the counter, missing his crouching form by mere inches. Yet he did not move. He did not shy away from the heat. Nor did it melt his countenence. The screams of the terrifies guards overcame the roar of the owmans magical inferno. They were not death screams. Those had their own specific sound that each true Ithilian knew all too well. No she did not wish to kill these men. They were innocent after all. Though Lokiri had know problem fighting them, he could never kill them. Many of them most likely had families. Outside of war it was not right to make others suffer needlessly. Ithilians may be killers but they were not murderers.

With the blast finally over, the High Prince of Ithilril leapt up onto the bar. His eyes sifting through the mayhem quickly and efficiently. Like any man of war he assessed the damages and those still capable of fighting within seconds. The woman stood within the center of the everything. The obvious source of the spell. Unconsciously a low growl escaped his throat. How he hated magic users. Nothing but corrupt politicians, the lot of them. It was impossible to count how many times his people had been betrayed by people such as her. To make matters worse, this woman had not even hit all of the guards in her little attack. Whatever power she claimed to have seemed to be in hiding at the moment.

"Gentlemen," he began, addressing the men while pointedly ignoring the woman who so willingly aided in this struggle. If it could be called a struggle. "Now that you have witnessed a piece of your opponents I think it prudent that you leave now." His steady voice accompanied by the icy chill of his eyes was more than enough for the majority of the men who called themselves guards in this city. Pathetic amateurs, the lot of them. Boys playing at being soldier because it made them feel important. As if they made a difference in the world. Still, to Lokiri's surprise there were a sparse few who remained even after the others had left. The few who could actually be called brave, if very foolish. Then again, these men still had their weapons. They had either been smart enough to find cover or they had been out of range. Either way they had been the ones in the back of the group. Those who had not even drawn steel because they assumed their comrades could handle it themselves. They moved to draw their weapons now, as the others darted for the door.

"You don't want to be doing that." The Ithilian Prince hissed, his final warning. The woman had been all but forgotten now, as he focused on the potential threat before him. So long as she stayed to the side no problems would arise between them. Though he trusted her not he would not hurt her unless given reason to. As expected, the men did not leave. They came on. only four of them, and yet they held confidence in their numbers. Lokiri leapt off the bar in a spinning flip overtop the first two. A foolish move for most, as it put him in a precarious position in which he had an enemy on all four sides. Yet that was completely expected. It was extremely rare for a group to fight as one, and though these men had trained together. Fought together. They did not achieve the perfect level of teamwork so feared by the Ithilians. Their attacks came quickly, starting with a thrust of a sword which Loki sidestepped. His hand closed over the hilt in a powerful grip, twisting it free and using the hilt to strike the man down. A powerful strike to the forehead was more than enough to knock anyone unconscious.

The other three came next, and they fell just as easily. With the use of the other guards weapons they were bested with a series of quick parries and strikes with the flat of the blade. in Lokiri's skilled hands the borrowed weapon was like a living being. Moving about his form with a blurry fluidness that belied human skill. The three guards might as well have been standing still for all their strikes made a difference. The fight had been over before it began, and yet they had tried. In testing their skill against a true warrior, a soldier, they had failed miserably. Just as mostly everyone would. Spinning the blade through the air, he caught it in a reverse grip and spun to face the woman at last. The tip a scant inch from her throat.

"You spoke of power..." he began, contempt evident in his voice. "...yet you hide from battle by using magic. Keep this in mind, witch. The only power that truly matters is that which I have just showed you."

With the the sword was dropped to the ground, and he turned to leave. On the way out he tossed a couple coins the tavern keeps way. "To pay for damages," he said, his voice normal yet again as he fell into an eerie calm.

As Meera had quickly cast her spell, she had not been paying attention to anything regarding the man's expression or thoughts on her way of the fight. All that mattered was focusing so that she did not completely wreck the whole entire tavern. When she had fully regained control of her magicks, Meera breathed out deeply. Brushing her hair back with a flick of her wrist, she turned in a slow circle surveying the area. She noted which guards were slowly getting up, and which ones had missed her blast entirely. They would be the ones that were the biggest threat. Other than that, Meera wasn't worried. Even the one that could fight didn't worry her. These poor guards were ill-equipped and ill-trained. Especially to handle a goddess. Meera's attention was drawn away from them for a moment though as the man spoke once more. Obviously, he had heeded her warning and taken cover. Good for him. At least he wasn't completely stupid. Meera's jaw clenched as she turned her back towards the man and faced the guards watching to see who stayed and who wisely walked away. Though there were still some stragglers left, Meera knew her part here was done. Meera's first glance at the man assured her that he could handle himself in a battle. Especially with such green guards as these. Meera didn't even make a move towards her sword. She knew that she could reach it easy enough had she the need, but she didn't even feel that would occur. Just because she knew that the two of them had just won this miniscule brawl did not mean that Meera was happy. She still had an itch. It fuzzed in the back of her mind causing her to grind her teeth in frustration. She didn't know what was wrong and standing here wasn't solving anything. With a solemn expression, Meera decided that she would stay and wait to make sure that everything would allright, then she would be on her way. Besides, she didn't think that she would be so welcomed by the innkeep anymore. After all, she had just set fire to his land.

Meera's golden emerald eyes flickered over the battle scene as the man easily took care of the guards. She was semi-pleased to see that he had no intention to kill them either. It would not have done her conscience any good if she had just helped a bad man that had deserved to be taken away. Before she could turn around to leave though, the man spun on her, so boldly holding his sword to her throat. Though she was infuriated by this egotistical male, she knew that fighting back would only fuel some sort of fight between them. On the other hand, Meera needed to fight. She needed to hurt someone. But nevertheless, he was experienced and he had his sword for the killing blow if he so wished it. Meera was not stupid. She simply glared, and waited for his little pompous male figure to finish his little rant. So he thought that because she used magic that she was weak. Narrowing her eyes, Meera growled under her breath. Who was he to tell her that his way was the way of true power. What kind of ego did it take to believe this load of lies? He didn't know her. This was the first time he had seen her fight. Who was he to judge that she was weak? When he took the sword away, Meera simply stood there. Her eyes flashed with lightning fire as they watched his figure pay for the damages and slide out the door. Leaving would have to wait. Meera needed to put him back in his place and show him who she was. No, she would not use magic. She would use his style. She didn't even need to tell him that she was a goddess. That was stupid. Hiding behind a title wasn't worthy of any of his respect. Flicking her head to the side, Meera scanned the rest of the customers to find that they were all watching her. She said nothing, but went to the bar, slammed down a few coins, then followed the man out the door.

It was raining, but Meera could still see him. She hesitated as she walked down the steps and after him. She could take out her dagger and try to prove herself to him, or she could talk to him and maybe later have to prove herself anyways. Her fingers gently pressed against her palm as she contemplated the outcomes of both. Sighing finally, Meera stretched her hand back out and walked briskly to catch up with the man. When she felt that she was close enough behind him that he would hear her, she slowed her pace to match his. Her voice cold and sharp, Meera questioned "I'm so terribly sorry that I'm such a lowly woman for you that I must hide behind my magicks. You must have been horribly embarrassed. I hope I didn't cause his majesty, the prince of all power, any discomfort and/or trouble, for I was not wishing to do so." The rain poured harder on her head and soaked completely back through what she had managed to dry, but Meera didn't care. It seemed a miniscule detail compared to the blazing resent that she was feeling for this man right now. Her boots clicked toughly agains the cobbled streets as she continued to walk behind him. She would not let this drop just yet. It felt way too good to seethe. Meera needed some outlet to get her unpinned frustrations out. "Tell me," Meera finally continued, "Is there any way that I could possibly make up for all of this discomfort and shame I must have caused you?" Her voice dripped with poisonous sarcasm. Meera was positive that he would catch that. She was not positive on how he might answer her. She hoped that it would give her some other reason to get mad. She really needed it.

The rain pouring down about him made a violent drumming as thousands of heavy droplets struck the slick ground all around Lokiri. With the hood of his snowy white cloak up he remained passably dry. the rain slid off of its surface as if it were glass. Such were the properties of the fabrics used in its creation. Water, or any other liquid, possessed no grip when it came in contact with it. That did nothing for his boots, however. though they were made of fine leather they sank deep into the muddy roadway with every step. though his feet remained dry and warm the good mood that had been given him by the fight with the guards was ruined as he looked upon the bleak surroundinigs about him. Then came the voice. One he had not expected to hear again. This woman was persistant, though he knew not why.

As she went on in her tight lipped rant, her voice practicaly dripping with a seething malice, the Ithilian did not turn to face her. Though the rain distorted her voice he knew her to be several feet behind him. The deep puddles and thick mud would make sneaking up on him or lunging in for a quick attack impossible. As a magic user she would have already noticed that. Their kind did with things such as that. They weighed everything in terms of how it could be put to use for their benefit. Little did she know she would find little advantage against him. No matter the terrain. His head tilted, that soft gaze of ocean blue glancinging back at her as the gentlest of smiles played across his suddenly smooth features.

"Meakness is not becoming of you Sorceress." He said after a long puase in which only the heavy pounding of the rain could be heard. itg had to be spoken in a half shout otherwise it would have not been heard. "I applaud you for your efforts, though. Your desire to try and push me into a confrontation with you is admirable."

Shame? What shame was she speaking of? though he had displayed a great deal of contempt for her kind, as any Ithilian would, he had never mentioned anything about shamefulness. In his confusion Lokiri turned to face her. A mistake, perhaps for she might percieve it as an acceptance of her challenge. Interestingly enough, though, she did not attack. Instead she watched himn careful. Measuring him, waiting to see his reaction. She behaved so much like an Ithilian it was shocking...

"You misunderstood me mage." He said at last, his voice cool and calm. "I was not shamed by your actions. in fact I am grateful for your help. However you must understand that magic users hold little love among my people. Too many tragic endings of our tales in which they are present."

He turned then, his white cloak flowing around him. Shining like a beacon in the grey sky as he continued on his way. "I would advise you to go home Sorceress." He shouted back just before he slipped out of earshot once again. "...before you get yourself hurt, or worse."

Meera's breathing hissed between her lips as she struggled to withold the many other things that she wished to say to him. Her bright eyes scanned him from beneath rain soaked bangs. She searched his face for any signs that her words were just getting him the slightest bit irritated. When she was met with nothing but smooth, impassive marble, she could feel herself getting even more flustered by the second. As a low growl of frustration rumbled up from the pit of her stomach, Meera finally got a true look at his features. The growl choked a bit in her throat as she took in a quick breath of air. She covered that up quickly with a deep exhale of an exhasperated sigh and roll of her eyes. Allright, so the man was fairly good looking. That didn't change anything. She still loved Aiden dearly. And plus, this cloaked man seemed to greatly dislike either who she was, or what she did. Meera's hands crossed beneath her chest as she waited for him to finally speak. He appeared to be equally gaging her reaction to his words. Meera didn't care. She would follow him until her anger was satiated. Deep within her mind though, she began to wonder. Was she truly mad anymore, or was she just frustrated that she might have met someone that she didn't know everything about? This man was mysterious and fully intended to remain that way. Meera was interested. She fully intended to figure him out. That would not be easy. This man was no stranger to the harsher side of this world. He would not display his secrets to just anyone. As Meera thought this over, she could feel her heartrate slow. She was calming down. That was good.

For the moment, Meera watched his dissapearing figure. His last words echoed within her ear endlessly. What was he trying to say? She bit her bottom lip indecisively and then set off after him. Running would not happen, for she would never appear to eager to stay in contact with this man, but she did want to catch up. As the clicks of her boot heels quickened, Meera's mind raced. She began to see him in the distance, but the rain was blurring her vision and made it a bit harder than normal. The moment she knew that her pace would get her to the man eventually, Meera settled into it and allowed her mind to wander. She began to think back to that feeling that she had at the bar. Something in the air was not right. Meera could still not place her finger on it. Everything about her felt tight. Her stomach muscles were clenched and her shoulders refused to drop. She was on edge, that was undeniable. Was it this man? Had she seen this coming? When he came back onto her mind, Meera's eyes narrowed and her chin lifted to see him inching closer in the distance. Shaking her head though, Meera knew it couldn't be just him. She was a warrior naturally. If it was something having to do with danger, she would be more attentive, but certainly not tight. A deep groan of exhaustion echoed out from her. This was horribly distracting. Why wouldn't it come to her? It didn't help that this feeling had to set on, the one time that she was finally able to get out from her temple. Meera once more, gave up the brainstorming. The man was close and she needed to figure out what she would do.

Deciding on a different way of questioning, Meera quickened her pace and stepped around in front of the man placing both hands on his chest and not removing them. She gave him a firm look, but decidedly did not try to appear angry anymore. Her eyes searched into his own as she spoke once more. She asked "Who are you? I know that you are not from around here." Her memory of his comment about his people not liking sorcerer types kept coming back in her mind, but that did not exactly sound like anyone around Imythess. Sure, there were tribes who didn't exactly appreciate magic, but none that looked at all like him. She wanted answers. She would get answers. On the other hand though, she did not want to force him. Meera was a goddess. It was undeniable that she was powerful, but this man would be a formidibale enemy. Besides, somewhere in the back of her mind, Meera felt like she could get along with him. She wanted to have that chance. Of course...if the man gave her cause to be suspicious...Meera gently shook that throught from her head and slid her hands delicately down his chest to a bit of his stomach then back to her own sides. That motion was not without warrant. She had felt his muscles. Her thoughts were confirmed. He was not just skill. This man had muscles. Unknowingly, an eyebrow had raised in faint curiousity, but she squashed that quickly, awaiting an answer and reaction from him.

((yuckkkkkkkk sorry this is horrible. I got it out though x.x ))

Rain poured down in heavy sheets. A violent cacophony of tiny little thuds made all the worse by a rising wind. The Ithilian moved through it all like a ghost. Unperturbed by the wind and rain. though it whipped the tail of his snowy white cloak about behind him. Though it threatened to thrust him off balance, he moved at a steady, comfortable pace. Beneath the cloak he was warm and dry, completely at ease with the world. Alone as well, it seemed. Alone at last on this alien world. There was a great deal of exploring to do as well as some serious investigation. Who ruled in this world? What cultures or religions held sway? Most importantly, how could he get home?

Unfortunately it seemed the High Prince had spoken to soon. Just as he was beginning to grow accustomed to the idea of being on this alien world. Just as plans had started forming within his mind the woman from the inn was before him once again. This time, though, physical contact was made. Eyes the color of deep ocean waters flicked downward where her hands lay lightly upon his chest. There were level with hers next, watching her every move carefully. What she could possibly have on her mind now, he could never guess. Nothing volatile. that he would have sensed immediately. Besides the calm set of her features told him she had another reason for following him further.

It was strange but her question actually made the Ithilian smile. Even chuckle. it was a sweet, almost musical laughter that seemed to contradict the terrible weather. How determined she was. Persistent in a way that too closely resembled a person he met only hours before, on his home world. It was strange, that this woman would bring this person to mind. Other than the moments of combat they had shared he really did not know the man. He had been an enemy, someone who did not cower in fear even as he became aware the fight would not be his. True bravery was commended by ithilians. Even if that bravery is shown by an enemy.

He did not answer her at first. With the rain pouring down and her completely drenched this was no whether to be having a serious discussion. Why he was even condoning this was beyond him. In the end she was still a magic user and could not be trusted. After all it was the vile machinations of magic that got him here. Perhaps it was that determination he had thought about moments before. Besides, if she wanted answers following him to a dryer spot should not be too difficult a task for the woman. She had already followed him this far after all.

Further away from the town he led her. A lifetime of living within the mountains gave the high prince a good idea as to where to go. Slight shifts in the terrain. A sudden change from muddy to rocky. Soon enough they came upon a cave. A fire was completely out of the question of course. in this weather finding dry lumber would be impossible. Lokiri was warm anyway. If she was cold... well she was a sorceress. Perhaps she could conjure something up. "you know its strange..." he said, pulling down the hood of the white cloak and revealing his noble features at last. "...I hardly know you and yet you remind me of another man I knew for only a small portion of time..." The silence lingered between them for a minute as he turned to survey the rain pouring down outside the entrance. When he turned his head slightly to look her way from the corner of his eye he was smiling again. That special smile someone gets when recalling a memory.

"He was a blind man. Had a red cloth over his eyes... Just one enemy to join the countless others within my dreams. Yet he possessed more courage than most. Even in the end..." He turned then, looking back outside as the vision of his latest struggle came to him. It could be his last battle on his home world for some time to come, unfortunately.

A perplexed smile twisted up one corner of Meera's mouth as the man chuckled at her question. This was the first sign of true enjoyment that she had heard out of him. Even if the laughter was at her expense, she got the feeling that it wasn't intended to be rude. Besides, Meera was fully able to laugh at herself, why shouldn't he be able to? As he continued to walk, Meera once again fell into pace beside him. This time though, she promised to herself that she would be patient. From looking at his face, Meera had been able to tell that he intended to answer his question. It would just require a bit more time spent with him on Meera's part. At the moment, Meera didn't really know what she felt about him. Part of her was repulsed, but the other was crazy with the curious possibilities that conversations with him could lead to. Right now, it was relatively easy to tell which side was winning over. Even as they began to leave the town of Balefire behind and head up into the mountains, Meera felt at home. She wasn't really a city person in the first place anyways. Being a goddess was the only reason why she had become accustomed at all to it. Her feet nimbly picked through the rocks as they climbed to a spot that Lokiri seemed like he knew the way to. For some odd reason, she trusted him. It wasn't the conventional trust though. She wouldn't begin telling him her deepest darkest secrets, but it was the beginning, a glimmer. It had first appeared when she allowed him to lead her up here. He could have been leading her here to ambush her, but she trusted that wasn't the case.

She spied the cave at nearly the same time as he did. Her careful eyes watched as he settled in and neglected to make a fire. So the standoff would begin. Tilting her head to the side slightly, Meera settled down beside him. She didn't need a fire either. She was the goddess of water after all! The more water on her, the better she could insulate herself. She wasn't cold in the least. He should be the one making the fire. Biting her lip a bit, Meera choked back the combative thoughts inside her head. Why did she feel the need to prove something to this man? She was going crazy. That must be it. Resting her elbows on her knees, Meera placed her chin on her hands and let her golden emerald gaze drift over his features. Something about the air around him suggested that he was of noble lineage at least, but the way he knew the mountainside would lead her to believe otherwise. Who knew these days? Noble folk could be hiding anywhere. She had seen it herself. Finally, the man spoke again. Meera's attention jerked back as she waited for an answer to her question. Her eyes begain to narrow though. She reminded him of a man? Meera wasn't quite sure how to take that, so instead she continued to listen. A breath caught in her throat though as he turned his head and looked at her with a smile in rememberance. It wasn't remembering her, but still, the brief smile was reciprocated reflexively with one of her own. She almost didn't catch the rest of what he was saying. But even if she had been fully alert, nothing could have prepeared her for what he said next.

A blind man. Red cloth. Even in the.. Oh god. Meera's mind raced. That unsettling feeling she had been experiencing before came flooding black in with one sickening flash of memory. Aiden. Could it be? No. Of course not. He was smart. What was he..? No. This man wasn't from here. Aiden couldn't have..yes he could have. No. But he wouldn't....I never got to see him! Meera stood up quickly, eyes glazing over. Struggling to stop the sudden shaking that wracked her whole lithe frame, Meera whispered hesitantly, "What...do you mean...'in the end'?" Her hands clasped over her abdomen as if using them to hold back the tumult of emotions that she was feeling. Half of her wanting to fall to the ground in despair, while the other half wanted to jump over and end his life. But she could not do either until she was sure. Oh god...her mind began to race again. Feeling that she needed some more information before she completely lost it, Meera struggled out, "Why.. What. What..was he doing there? Why was he," She gulped "your enemy?" Every fiber of her being was ready to collapse. The dignity of a goddess had left her. Aiden. Aiden had left her. There was nothing holding her up right then. Nothing but the rage and wish to avenge his death, if that indeed was the case.

((Oh gawd....almost a month x.x ))

The expression: "Small world" came unbidden into the mind of he who stood before this rain soaked lady. Despite the fact that this was not his world and they would have never met had he not randomly emerged here. Though they had just met and she was obviously not one to reveal secrets so soon in a relationship he expression told all there was to know. That wide eyed shock, the jaw dropping horror, and the conflicting search for hope in a hopeless situation. Within that emerald gaze there was a spark of knowing, though it was faint because she choose to believe otherwise. Clearly the man of whom the Ithilian had spoken meant something to this woman. What were the odds that he would find himself in the presence of someone he had just killed. Someone who obviously shared some kind of connection with the man. Of all the realms he could have been thrown too how was it that this was the one he landed on? And in the vicinity of her no less. It was fine to believe in coincidence but clearly Fate had some kind of design in this. As if he was not already suspicious enough he grew even more so now.

Lightning split the sky outside, illuminating the cave for just an instant. Because of the way they were facing one another Lokiri's face was, at last revealed. Skin of a fine bronze and a face of flawless decorum and nobility. There was not a fault to be seen in the set of his eyes, the shape and slightcurve of his nose, the tight lipped way he currently watched her, or the curving jawline which framed the base. Those eyes of oceanic blue seemed to nearly shine after the light winked out. As if in that tiny space of a moment they had absorbed the light into themselves. There was a certain softness to them now. Something nearing on tenderness as they watched the conflicting emotions playing across his companions face. There was only a small distance between them, and after taking note of the way her knees wobbled he closed that and gently pushed her back down into her seat with a hand on her shoulders. After losing someone close to them no one could expect a person to remain unabashed and strong. That was one lesson he could relate too. Though his experience was much worse than hers, undoubtedly. Betrayal always was. However now was not the time to dredge up the past. This woman wanted answers. She would have them.

"He came to my world with 5 others. Lead by an Immortal known as Hiren. Perhaps your Aiden mentioned to you before.... But that doesn't matter I suppose." He left her side, crossing to the cave opening once again with hands clasped behind his back. That gaze was freezing over again as the recent memory rose from the depth of consciousness. For that reason alone Lokiri did not turn to face her again, while he revealed the tale of her man's passing. At a time such as this coldness was never the answer. When he spoke again his voice was cool and composed. The High Prince within the warrior had emerged to handle this situation of subtlety and delicate maneuverings. "It was Hiren's design to use that advantage of numbers to coerce me into aiding him with a certain quest of his. I never cared enough to ask any details of it. My answer to his request had always been, and still was, no. Even in the presence of those he brought with him. I suppose, in a way, you could blame my Ithilian pride for your man's death. I would not let them bully me into action. A lifetime of teachings simply dictated that I could not allow it. "

"The weaponmaster Hiren brought with him, Aaron. He was the first to attack. Not by the Immortal's command but on his own accord. Perhaps he felt he had something to prove after hearing of my... talents. I warned him of the dangers in fighting me just as I warned the others. Aaron lasted not more than a second after it became clear he was not going to come to his sense, and by cutting him down I unknowingly encouraged the others to attack. One of the them, a wizard, tried to take me with magic. But in my palace magic cannot exist. The demon was nothing to me... he fell just as quickly as Aaron. It was your Aiden who proved the challenge. His ability to strike at a distance using his mind was truly astounding. Because of that fact he was able to survive while the others fell either wounded or dead.

"Please believe me when I say that I tried to convince him to stop. Tried a second time after the others were beaten and still he denied. I still remember his words.... He told me that it would was an insult on his character to suggest he would leave his friends. You knew him better than I so perhaps that is how he always was. I am not ashamed to admit he surprised me. Honor was not something I expected to encounter in the companions of one such as Hiren."

Those eyes turned to her at last. As the story had come to a close the memory faded away and, once again a softness melted the ice within those glacial blues. Lokiri's face remained a polished mask, however. A picture of posture and flawless control. It was said that a person's eyes never lied. His eyes were not an exception. He could control every other physical aspect of his body. But those eyes were a force beyond his reach. Though he appeared distant and cold the gaze with which he watched this woman held a small spark of warmth. A glimmer of compassion hidden by the statuesque guise he currently wore. Unless looking for it that tiny sparkle of life was impossible to catch. It lay hidden beyond layers of defenses. Buried under an icy resolve that gripped as sure as it gripped anything caught within its frozen depths. It was the legacy of his people. The way of Ithilian's. There was no room for softness in a society of warriors. There was once a time when the High Prince had ignored that way of life. Betrayal was a hard lesson to learn but learn it he had. There seemed more life in a statue then there was within him nowadays...

"I'm sure it's small consolation..." He began again. His voice had not changed. It still possessed a smooth undercurrent of chilling menace, still flowed from his lips with the elegance that only a certain measure of confidence can sustain. "He died quickly and without pain. He will be lain to rest as if her were Ithilian. That's the only honor I have left to give him, I'm afraid..."

He left unsaid that she could very well attack him now and try to exact some measure of revenge. Left unsaid that she too would have to fall should she choose to do so. The magic she possessed was powerful. That much he had been sure of even before the fiery display within the tavern. But Ithilian's had defenses against magic. Defenses she could never know seeing as they were alien to one another. Perhaps those defenses would not work on this world. It was a daunting prospect now that it was too late to test it. Depending on this woman's reaction to all this news a test might be in order after all. Oh how he hated magic...

Meera's eyelids wavered up and down, wanting to take this sight from her eyes, but she stubbornly held them up. Lokiri had some talking to do. Her heart raced infinitely at the mere mention of Aiden's death, though she still hung onto the faint, dying hope that he was out there somewhere waiting for her. At first, Meera didn't see Lokiri coming at her. But the moment she did, it was too late. His hands were on her shoulders. They pushed her down easily, for weak knees don't make for good resistance, but that did not prevent her eyes from casting a scathing look towards him as she hissed her disproval. The moment her gaze connected with his, she sensed a change in him. She didn't see the cold distance that had before captivated her, now she saw tender sympathy, or was it empathy? Meera didn't care, if anything, she felt more angered. With as much dignity as she had left in her body, Meera tersely said, "Do not lay your hand on me again if you do not wish it to be seperated from your body. Do not even touch me if you have the wish to live painlessly." Casting him one final smoldering look, Meera agonizingly slid her lids closed and lay her head in her hands as she listened to his account of what had happened. In truth, she had no reason to believe any word that he said, but this was all she had left. This was the only news she had of Aiden. There was no one left to reaccount this tale, save for the sole survivor which also happened to be his murderer. If he lied, though she did not feel that he has sufficient reason to, so be it. She would never know the difference.

As Lokiri delved deeper into the story, Meera was finally forced to come to terms with a fact that she had before been unwilling to face. She knew nothing of Aiden. None of these names sounded familliar, she hadn't known where he had gone, in truth, she had no idea who the man that she loved really was. There was only one element in the story that really led her to believe that Lokiri was telling her the truth, at least partially. Aiden's words, or the words Lokiri had dictated that he had said, did indeed sound precicely like him. That may be the one aspect of him that Meera honestly did know. She knew his personality. He would never have backed down from a fight in that manner. Meera became a tangle of emotions as she was forced to take in all of what he had just told her. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest as her body continued to tremble with the effort of witholding so many of her first impulses. There were so many things which she would like to do, but so many reasons why she could not follow through with any of them. She grappled with many aspects of her personality, the lover, the fighter, the goddess. She wanted to grieve. The man she had truly loved was gone. She wanted to fight. The man who had killed him was right in front of her. But she needed to hold herself together. Through the muddle in her mind, crystalline thoughts were able to pierce their way through and whisper sensible reason in her ears. Who was she to blame the man in front of her? Even if his story was not true, he did not appear to have any ill will towards her? Then again, were his story actually the truth, she had even less of a reason to attack him. He had been acting in self defense. Would she have not done the same in his shoes?

Gritting her teeth together, Meera finally unfurled her limbs from the protective ball that she had formed around herself. Pressing her palms into the ground, she lifted herself back up. Straightening her spine, Meera was able to quell most of the shaking throughout her body except for that of her hands. But it was enough. Casting a steely glance in Lokiri's direction, she let him in on the knowledge that there were still many things she had yet to ask. Casting a finger in his direction, "Sit", she directed. Walking a few steps towards him, Meera still remained at a distance. She did not want him to get the wrongful impression that she was hellbent on revenge. That was not her plan. Right now, she was trying to come up with something, anything, that might help to pacify her concience. Tilting her chin towards the heavens, Meera begged for those who had come before her to grant her the strength to get through this and away from the man before she completely lost it. Uttering one final shuddering breath, Meera snapped her gaze back down and peered intensely at the sudden compassion in Lokiri's eyes. Struck a bit off guard, that was the first question that she fired at him. "Why do you look at me like that?" There really was no way more to explain what she was asking, for she didn't even really know what Lokiri was feeling. All she knew was that it was vastly different from what he had been showing her before. Meera didn't want to make a wrongful assumption and look like a fool. So instead, she phrased the question broadly, knowing that he would understand what she was getting at.

Eyes narrowed, Meera shook her head slightly and continued on with the other thoughts plaguing her mind. "What was this...quest that Hiren was trying to convince you to help him with? And how do you know the names of them all? You must have known them before...Did you.." She cleared her throat that was quickly closing up, "Did you know m-...Did you know Aiden before?" It was almost depressing that Meera was having to ask about her own love's past from the one who had ended his hope for the future. Why tonight? Why?

"OOC: Not my longest post but I thought I'd spice things up a bit. :OOC)

Amazing as it might sound Lokiri had not even noticed his companions scathing comment until after the story she had desired had been completely divulged. As the silenced stretched between them and this woman took in the news of her lover's death he had time to reflect on it now. There was much strength in this woman and that was enough to bring a smile to those dark features. She would need that strength to pull through this. A painless existence? That had been almost enough to make him laugh. If only such a life could be true... What he wouldn't give to live it if only for a moment... The rain was coming down in heavy sheets outside and he turned to watch it, giving Meera whatever time she needed to come to terms with the current situation. It was a silent gesture of humanly respect toward her that did not come often, though it was impossible for her to know that. It was dangerous to show any kind of weakness toward a stranger but there was a kind of emotion for her stirring within the depths of his soul that had not been there in a long time. Remorse, perhaps?

When Meera finally came to a decision and rose to walk toward Lokiri he did not notice, did not even hear her order him to sit. Those gentle blues were lost in the ocean of rainfall that cascaded endlessly down before him. It was... soothing, the music in the rain. It drew his troubled mind inward, washing away all the pain and regret that lay hidden under miles of iron like control and reinforced willpower. She had to touch him to draw his attention and somehow he did not react out of reflex, which was near impossible. Instead he turned to face her, a deep set affection lingering in those liquid blues. The tightly clipped question she snapped at him brought whatever reverie that had gripped him away, however, and those eye grew just a little colder. There was still a distracted gentleness there, however. "I was... reminiscing..." That was all he was able to speak and even that held a high level of distraction. Whatever he was seeing of his past it had not completely left him yet and that was obvious by the way he turned back to the rain as soon as his answer was spoken.

When the rest of her questions came spewing forth in a wave of mottled emotions and unaccustomed confusion and fear he did not even answer for a time. Instead he watched the rain, as if searching for something out there in the grey world. "No..." he said at last. "I did not know any of them but Hiren. The only reason I am able to use their names is because they used them in my presence."

He suddenly turned to her, a lightning quick motion that happened in a blur of white. Hands clasped firmly over her arms as full attention snapped back. In that moment it was obvious her warning had meant nothing to him and no doubt there was some kind of reprisal coming but there was an urgency in his expression now. A frigid cast to his eyes were almost warning enough even before the words lept from his mouth. "Whatever struggle Hiren and I have it's between us. Trust me you don't want to get involved. Eventually he will find me again..."

Lightning streaked through the sky with a violent roar of unleashed power. White hot, it burned across the space between them and the one who cast it in seconds. Rain touched it's surface and was evaporated in an instant and, even wet, the ground beneath it began to burn to black as it streaked by. Acting on pure reflex, a trait highly coveted among Ithilian's, Lokiri pushed the woman away from him. There was no time to consider whether he had been too forceful in the shove as the lightning flashed between them in a roar of super heated air and crashed into the cave wall behind them. The snowy shite cloth turned black across Lokiri chest as he spun to face their attacker. Eyes shone cold and dangerous from an expression of total control and fearless resolve as twin scimitars flashed into existence. Some part of him whispered that there was little hope, a distant portion of his unconsciousness which had already identified the assailant as the very man he and the girl had just been speaking of. Even though Ithilian pride denied any kind of surrender, however, he knew this fight was already tipped in the opponents favor. Not only had he been caught off guard but the Immortal also had distance on him.

The snowy cloak, now flawed from the lightning whirled around him in a flurry of white cloth as the High Prince of Ithilian's faced, once again, the Fallen Immortal Hiren. The two scimitars were steady in his easy grip, held apart in readiness as the mind worked in overdrive to find a way out of the confines of the cave and into the open where a chance might be obtained. It was not to be had, however, for even as his gaze locked onto the Immortal another super heated bolt slammed into his chest. It exploded in a violent cacophony of noise and hot air that filled the cave with a deafening chorus and flung the Ithilian deeper into the cave. Back into the darkness where the god's knew what lurked in waiting...

"You're right..." Hiren's voice called from outside the gave, dark and menacing. "I did find you."

Meera noticed that he wasn't paying attention to her, she noticed the distracted look in his eyes, but her interrogation did not faltar. She didn't care. If she didn't get it all out now, her voice would never carry the sound without error again. As she finnished, her breath shuddered out of her and she watched his eyes for any signs of what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but once again she saw nothing she could read. She didn't know this man. That normally wouldn't matter, but he also did not appear to her at all like the normal peasant on the street. This confusion, this lack of knowledge caused more stirrings of frustration and anger within her which caused her to grit her teeth tightly together. Every breath made her shaky, every raindrop hissed as it hit her heated skin. Her eyelids drooped slightly as she recieved an answer from Lokiri that did not satisfy her. He didn't know these men. She could get nothing from that. All her thoughts were shattered as a split second later he grabbed ahold of her. There was no time for suprise on a true warriors reflex, so the second he lunged and grabbed her, Meera was vengeful. Her leg came up quickly to kick him, but he began to talk. This caused a moment of hesitation in her ascencion. In that moment, her mind recognized the words he spoke, and he had pushed her back. Having raised her leg up to push him, she had no ways of mantaining her balance and his shove was not exactly the softest. She began to fall backwards. In a moment of panic, Meera was once more forced to resort to reflex. With a loud tearing noise and the cracking and popping of long supressed joints, the brilliant white splendor of Meera's wings was revealed. One strong pulse from them and she was balanced on her toes, knees bent, and angry. Her hearing stopped her. Though she had extra heightened auditory senses, she had been so blatantly focusing her rage on Lokiri that she had failed to notice anything else. But now, as she was silently seething, she heard the footsteps of another. This man was not a stranger for long though. Meera did not know Hiren, but the motive and his malicious intent was enough to gather who he was. For a moment, Meera was happy to see him, but then her feelings became muddled.

He had marched Aiden to his death. He had gotten away unscathed. Had he even made an effort to prevent his companions from dying? Why had he needed Lokiri? Was this even worth them dying? Had he been aware of the fact that people's lives were in danger? Had he even made them aware of that? This whirlwind of thoughts took over her head as Meera watched the deadly confrontation of Lokiri and Hiren. One of them was going to die, and by the looks of it, it would be Lokiri. Was that really a problem with her? Meera stuttered for a moment. She was once again forced to grapple with the alternate consciences in her head. There was no time to weigh the consequences of each action she could take, there was no time to think up an argument that she wouldn't later come to regret, she had to decide, and it had to be now. Without a second thought, she lifted her hands and quickly cast the spell Sanctuary. No one could attack while it was still in effect, but it would only last three minutes. She had just that short amount of time to figure something out. Running quickly over, her eyes flashed with more intensity than the lighting Hiren had just been casting. Hiren was a stranger to her, and he had given her no reason at all for her to trust him. There was even the chance that he had no idea of her tie to him. So she stopped a few feet away. "Hiren," she called out. "Why is this man so important to you?" She tried to word it carefully so that Lokiri may not get the wrong impression. She wasn't defending him, and made a strong effort to show that. For just a brief moment, her eyes flickered to the inside of the cave to glance at Lokiri. It was strange how her emotions towards him had changed within the span of a few seconds.

No longer did he appear to be the menacing murderer, now he was the victim of Hiren's wrath, and definitely appeared to be losing. Seeing him cast in this light changed all that Meera had originally thought of him. Just because that changed, it did not at all diminish her ill will towards him, or memories of the action he had committed that she took personally. Now that there were officially two conflicting sides, she had taken the neutral position. Sometime, she would have to make up her mind, and time was ticking down to do it.

((uhhhhh I don't think it's amazing. x.x))

(OOC: I know what you said but I figured why wait? You could just rp sooner this way. I'll make it up to you, of course. XP :OOC)

Lokiri's eyes shone with the promise of death as he stepped toward the cave entrance, his scimitars held firmly within his sure grasp. The burned fabric of his cloak seemed to come alive, strands lashing out across the seared chasm of cloth to tie around one another until it was whole once again, its expanse as white as the snow cap of a tall mountain. He was fearless, moving toward the mighty sorcerer without hesitation even while the golden haired man stepped toward him in return. Meera might not have noticed in the mix of the situation that had so quickly befallen them but the Ithilian had silently placed himself between the Immortal and her, ensuring that she would not be struck by whatever spells might be unleashed. For Hiren's part he seemed not to notice, his katana, Godslayer, emerging from it's steel plated sheath with a ring of drawn steel. Eyes the color of liquid silver sparkled with the same deadly promise that shone in Loki's as he strode forward to meet the Ithilian's charge. They would finish their conflict here and now, at the mouth of a random cave located out in the wilderness. Godslayer drew back, the Immortal preparing for a lunge as the enemies neared while Lokiri visibly tensed. The thin blades of Isilme and Uial tipped upward, the only sign that he was preparing to strike. They came within striking distance, their blades flashing and, as the steel approached flesh, the Goddess of water stepped in.

The spell of sanctuary fell over them, halting any blood shed for the time being. Hiren's blade stopped as if it had come up against a wall, refusing to move forward no matter how hard he pushed against it. The spell had absolutely no effect on Lokiri, his cloak activating the instant the spell was sensed and negating it for himself alone. The magic passed around him as if he did not exist, not recognizing him as anything but a void in the space of it's effects. Still, the High Prince noticed Hiren's hesitation and for that reason alone he stopped, his stance relaxing only slightly as he stared at the Immortal, willing him to strike. It was clear he was trying to do so, his muscles straining to break through the invisible restraints that held him from doing so. That icy blue gaze turned to Meera as she strode from the cave over to them, naught but determination in both her stance and voice when she did finally choose to speak. The High Prince could have laughed in that moment, knowing full well she sought only answers with this intervention. he did not ask her for her help and, as she was quick to make clear, she was not giving it. besides, it was the Immortal who required it, was not he and both of the men were aware of it. In terms of combative skill Lokiri was without equal. Or, more accurately, had never found someone to match him.

Hiren relaxed, his quicksilver gaze shifting to the winged woman as his blade lowered. It was obvious, by now, that their fight was forestalled at least momentarily. He regarded the dark haired spell caster dispassionately, the faint glimmers of a smile growing on his bronzed features. "You must be Meera.." he said, his vice a lot friendlier now that he was not addressing Lokiri. "Aiden spoke much of you, Water Goddess. Obviously he was not exaggerating when he spoke of you're beauty."

Lokiri paced back and forth in front of Hiren, the muscles of his jaw flexing in obvious annoyance as he awaited the lifting of the spell that was not allowing the Immortal to fight back. It would have been wise to strike while Hiren could not defend himself, to end the threat without much danger to himself. The problem with that was that Lokiri was an honorable man and as such rarely based his decisions logically. He could have easily struck his enemy down at the moment despite the spell, but that would be the cowards escape and he could never allow that. Besides, this was Meera's chance to clear the air a bit about his story. There was no mistaking the threat she directed toward him with every look. She still blamed him for any number of things and no doubt that would not change anytime soon. Perhaps Hiren would unknowingly assist in speeding that process up. It never occurred to the Ithilian that he would not live beyond this encounter. Such thoughts displayed doubt, weakness. The kind of things that had no place in an Ithilian's heart. Not when faced with a deadly enemy and not when going to battle.

Hiren nodded toward Meera, his expression an emotionless mask. "I need Lokiri's... skills to get past the champions of my brethren. You're lover, Aiden, Aaron, Roin, Syrius, Sariel, and myself have already tried besting them and failed. They are the greatest of their trade... sorcerers, swordsman, martial artists, thieves. We could not get far... Lokiri is the only person I am aware of capable of defeating at least most of them. Obviously he is not willing to offer his aid..."

((It's okay. I beat you by a lot now and I feel much better. I still dunno about this post though))

Meera was immedietely able to recognize that her spell hadn't affected Lokiri at all. What also did not slip by her vision was the fact that he did not take advantage of such an upper hand. This caused a slight faltar in her stride as she made for them. Why would this murderer do such an honorable thing? That thought was easily dissapated though as she finally stood beside them both. Her eyes shot first to Lokiri who looked mildly amused at her, but her glare held nothing of the sort. What could make him feel the worst? She did not glare at him, nor did her eyes dangerously betray what her heart wanted to do to avenge her lover, instead he might be able to see the dull pain and heartbreak. The raw emotion she let show to him for a fraction of a second. Then she managed to tear her eyes away and look at Hiren, the man who led her Aiden to his death but yet still lived himself. He spoke to her. Her face remained stoney and unmoved until he finished. It was then that her voice came out in a snarl, "Do not even try to flatter me." That was the last thing she had wanted to hear from his mouth and instantly as he spoke those words, her view of him fell miles. Her eyes flickered back over to Lokiri in motion. Why would he still not strike this man? There did not even seem to be that thought in his mind. How strange. But the spell would only last three minutes. She had little time to get what she needed to know from Hiren. He seemed to be taking his time before he spoke again. This time, came the more crucial story.

So they needed Lokiri's skill. None of this was adding up to her. None of this made sense, and so she voiced her thoughts. As she did so, her body reflexively straightened and her arms crossed beneath her chest. "And so, Hiren," she spit his name out with equal distaste as she had first Lokiri's, "What gives you supreme authority to force this man into fighting for you? And if he was as good a fighter as you make him appear, then why did you attempt to best him? No good could have possibly come from such a spar. Either all your men die, or he does, and either way you're left with nothing." She paused just long enough to shoot Lokiri a harsh glance, narrowing her brow, just to show him that she was not on his side. This was just for sake of argument. Once he was sure that he was aware of this, she turned back to Hiren and continued, "That leads me to one final question for you. Why is it that you live while all your companions have fallen?" She felt sick to her stomach. Meera did not want to stand anymore. This was not an option. The goal was not to let either man know truly how badly she was feeling. Lokiri knew that she was feeling the emotional pain in her heart, and Hiren should have been able to guess, but losing Aiden made her feel weak all over. Beneath her tough exterior, her muscles were ready to give way. All that kept her standing was the solid braces of her regality. So with that, she tilted her chin up the tiniest bit and trained her eyes fully on Hiren.

One hand gently fell from her chest. It slipped down her waist until the scabbard that hung at her hip. She had her swords there. The end of the three minutes was coming, and she did not know what either of these men would do. Should the need come, Meera might even been forced to fight one of them herself. But right now, she could not put one at fault. Her heart begged for her to go after Lokiri, but her brain held the rein tightly and bit it back. Hiren was just as much, if not more at fault than Lokiri was for killing him. At this point, Meera did not give a damn. She just wanted to curl up, but nothing would allow it. She would not allow it. The world was ruled by these men who thought they could get everything they wanted and solve any problem by force. These men were sick predators slaughtering all which opposed them without even the slightest thought of finding anything out. Meera was done. Even with nothing left to lose, she would never become like them. She would never have made that decision to kill Lokiri on the spot. And you see what fruit that brought her. Had Hiren come whence she had killed Lokiri, and she found that Hiren was truly the one at more fault, what would the solution be then? More killing? And so Meera's fingers gently played on the hilt of her sword as she bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. Oh if only Aiden were here. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, crazed with adrenaline and her hands itched to grasp the sword and start a fight, but Hiren had not yet spoken and it was his words that would decide who would die here tonight.

(OOC: Yikes... total suckyness on my part but it'll have to do I guess. >_< :OOC)

Perhaps it was not the greatest thing to do given the current situation but it seemed simply could not contain his amusement. He laughed, a sound that was both melodic and foreboding all at once. Those silver eyes shined with an inner brilliance born of mirth and, though it could not be clear if he was mocking her or if he simply found the whole circumstance of this meeting a joke, Meera would no doubt assume the former. Lokiri had stopped his pacing, his gaze downcast and distractedly searching after the woman's silent gaze. Whatever that look had contained it had effected the Ithilian far more than the Immortal would have guessed. Those sapphire eyes had sen endless hardship and death, had watched the life slip form peoples lives while his blades sank into their flesh, and yet a simple look from a stranger was enough to make him draw in on himself and grow suddenly sullen. What had that look contained? What had she used to do something he had never succeeded in doing? Not knowing was maddening, though he covered it easily with a display of calm.

"Don't be a hypocrite, Meera. As an Immortal yourself you had no doubt used countless people for whatever purposes. What would I have to gain from confrontation?" he asked simply, his tone almost reproving as if he was silently telling Meera he expected better for a goddess. "No, I'm afraid you have it wrong, Meera. I did not desire a fight with the Ithilian. Nor did I try forcing my will upon him. I approached him, first, on my own and requested his assistance as courteously as could be managed. It was only after he denied me that I came to Aiden and the others." The Immortal smiled again, his lips turning upward in a display of pearly white teeth as he adopted a perfectly practiced manner of easiness meant to put aside her obvious thoughts of fighting herself. "Your lover, as well as the others, do not share Lokiri's contempt for our kind, Goddess, as I am sure you are already aware seeing as Aiden loved you as much as you obviously loved him. They were all considered close friends and they did not hesitate when I asked for their assistance.

"Their presence alongside me when I returned to Ithilril was meant to try and sway the High Prince. To show him that it was not my intention to control him, but to release him. You may not be aware of it yet but he is not the kind of man you want against you. You've no doubt notice the lack of effect your spell had on him? That cloak he wears contains traces of crystals form the Nether realm. Those crystals are completely outside of any magical effect. Think about it. He is a walking void, completely impervious to magic while his skills with the blade are legendary. Is it so difficult to understand why it's his services I sought? the champions of my brethren all rely on magic of one type or another. Against him, they would be forced to fight on even ground where they could never hope to win."

"The sword master, Aaron, was overzealous." Lokiri spoke up at last, his gaze cold and merciless as it swept between Meera and Hiren. Whatever dark effect the woman's look had had on him was gone now, his control regained. "So were Roin and Syrius. When they began threatening my people with death my decision was made clear even before you remade your offer."

The Immortal nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Loki. "You're right. I did not expect them to act as they did. Because of my lack of foresight many of my friends are gone. Roin and Sariel are all that remain, and even they might not live long. As far as I know they're still in Ithilril."

For the moment Meera seemed forgotten, the spell of Sanctuary waning as the two enemies faced one another, for once, in a manner that was not hostile. Both of them were visibly relaxed while she toyed with the pommel of her own sword as if trying to decide who to kill first. The spell of sanctuary slipped away and, surprisingly, the pair did not leap at each other's throats just yet. Though neither had sheathed their weapons they seemed content to talk at least for now. Whether that was exactly what Meera had been hoping for or not, they could never know. It was not important and whatever her personal reasons for making them stop from killing one another she had succeeded in doing so at least for now.

"They fought well. My people do not hold grudges against those who threaten us. They will be cared for. The dead, honored."

It made little sense, to be perfectly honest and no doubt Meera was as lost as she was at the beginning. They did little to describe the events that took place but perhaps that was for the best as the news of Aiden's passing alone had hurt her far greater than she cared to admit. the bloody details would only deepen the wounds that now plagued her heart. It was small kindness, one that she may not have noticed at all, but it was there nonetheless. There was no mistaking the fact that, eventually, their fight would need to continue but for now they could wait. The decision was left up to her, the Goddess of water who was still trying to cope with her loss, stop herself from lashing out at either one, if not both, of them.

Lokiri's laugh penetrated the tense air awkwardly and Meera was caught off guard. She couldn't help but turn her penetrating gaze to meet with his own. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion as she appraised him. Was he making fun of her? Immedietly her expression turned stormy and her glowing golden emerald eyes flashed with lightning. If it had been anyone else, in any other situation, she might have joined him, but she was incredulous at the fact that he was even able to smile at a time like this. And in that one instant, she hated him for it. She genuinely wished that she could burn him with her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew how much pain she was in right now, and was laughing anyways. That fact just crushed her. For one moment, she had thought he might have cared. Sadly, it was still only just that one instant. It was obvious where he sat. Her eyes connected with his, but hers no longer a pool of emotion. A brick wall dulled down her eyes. Not even anger hinted at the edges. For a few moments, her eyes swept the ground at her feet. She chewed her bottom lip while she thought about what would happen next. Where would she go? Who would she be with? Her thoughts were disturbed. Hiren had begun to speak, telling her the story. Meera's now dull, listless eyes turned up slightly, not looking him in the eye, but staring decicively at his mouth as he relayed the blank details to her. Meera found the words seeping into her ears like mollasses and settling on her brain like glue. They had no effect on her for the first time in this conversation. She simply listened, and did not protest, heard, and did not ask.

As the last of the sanctuary spell left her grasp, she took in a shuddering breath. The men had not begun fighting yet, which was surprising, but did not matter to Meera at this point. She had her mind made up what she was going to do. There was an intense amount of doubt that anything that happened would have a chance to change that. Slowly, as not to cause alarm, Meera bent over to reach into her boot and pull out her stilletto dagger. As she straightened back up, she absentmindedly twirled it in her fingers. She remained silent as she appraised both of the men, then decided upon whom she would address first. She turned to Hiren. Her voice soft, almost a whisper, she said "You do not know anything about myself and Aiden." The blank look on her face was the only sign of emotion that he could possibly gather. She kept that expression as she turned to Lokiri. For another second, she was silent, just looking at him. Then, directing her voice towards both of them, she dictated, "I'm going. Feel inclined to solve your squabble by any means necessary. I no longer care." Bringing the dagger up to her face, Meera gently stroked her cheek along it. Her eyelids fluttered, gathering strength from the knowledge that she knew how to use this weapon if necessary. Finally, she left the men with a warning, "Any who try to follow me will recieve this dagger in his heart." She backed away for a few steps, watching them, then turned and began to climb down the mountain. Already, her eyes were brimming with liquid. A single tear slid down her face as she took one look back. Back at where she would still be standing were she not in such an emotional state. Digusted at herself, Meera slapped away the tear and picked her way through the rocks. One slipped out from under her and she fell, sliding for a moment before she was able to stop. Breathing hard from the jolt, Meera simply pulled her knees up to her chest. She sat there, out of sight of the men, out of signt from the town, sheltered only by the mountainous rocks, and cried.