That which is bright rises twice
The Image of Fire-The Book of Changes
Jaxon sat staring into the campfire. The other members of his camp sang and laughed in boisterous drunken stupor, but Jaxon did not take part in their revelry. Only a few days had passed since he had been given his mission. He had taken it with a severity that his companions apparently did not share. He frowned. The whole plan was based around his ability to act, to gain trust, and to betray. All these drunken clowns had to do was the physical labor. It was his brains, his charisma, his will that was the crux of their success or failure. Sure, they could laugh it up, their job was easy. He pulled his hood over his head to muffle out their raucous noise. He had to concentrate. He had to prepare. He had a job to do.
* * *
Icerra swung the stick through the air in a high overhead arc. In her mind it was a bright polished longsword cutting through her enemies armor, flesh, and bone. She twirled her body round in mid air, landing in a pose she thought stunning and fit for battle, low to the ground, a stick in each hand, tail raised quivering in the air. She held the pose and snarled at her imaginary foes as they stumbled back in fear. With a tiny roar she jumped as high as she could, bringing both sticks down with a loud Whoosh! *CRACK* The sticks snapped as the hit the dry packed earth in front of their home. She frowned as she looked at the two broken sticks in her paws. "Well," she thought, "They'd make good daggers now."
She returned the snapped sticks to her pile, an arrangement of sticks of variant lengths, each length representing a different type of weapon in her imaginary arsenal. With pride, Icerra looked upon her collection, but just as soon a feeling of longing, a yen set in. She knew this feeling and almost instinctually her eyes raised and rested upon the seated figure of her sister beneath a nearby tree. Silent, regally poised, Aramara did not meet her gaze.
It had been almost five cycles since Aramara had lost her life in the trepor attack. Five cycles since her body appeared in the Dakkru temple in the mountains outside their village. Five cycles and Aramara hadn't spoken a word. It was as if her body had made it back to this realm, but her mind hadn't. Her eyes were always distant. At first, their parents worried greatly about her. Their mother tried to use every healing technique she could think of to bring Aramara out of her perpetual daze. Tinctures, elixirs, Crystal Way magic, but nothing worked. She even had brought in a Xiosan priest to come and hold ceremonies in their house, to chant over Aramara's body, perform a cleansing ritual to rid her of her state. This too, did nothing.
Exhausted from their efforts, her parents went back to their daily routine. This did have an effect. Aramara began to follow her mother around, paying close attention to her every move, watching her work, and even helping her tend to her patients. Tacutsi welcomed the extra help, and offered thanks to Xiosia for bringing some sense of life back to her daughter. But for Icerra, things were different. Aramara had been her best friend her entire life. For endless hours, days on end, they would run and play together in the streets, wheat fields, brooks and streams. All of that was over now. Ara had become silent, docile, boring. Their father had begun to take more and more business outside of town and was frequently away, leaving Icerra mostly alone, to play by herself. The emptiness she felt now was for want of a friend, her friend, her sister.
Icerra couldn't help but linger her gaze on Ara's form. At nearly fifteen cycles, her body was beginning to develop. Every day she began to look more and more like their mother, her body slimmer, curvier, legs longer. Icerra began to feel another sense of longing layered with something else, envy. She frowned and was about to turn away when Ara suddenly met her eyes. She froze. For five cycles her sister's eyes had been vacant, cold, but now they pierced through Icerra with a burning ferocity. Keeping her eyes locked, Aramara slowly rose to her feet. With a smoothness like the wind on the waters surface, her svelte figure moved over the yard toward Icerra.
Icerra turned as Aramara walked past her and watched as she stooped down to pick up one of the longer sticks in her pile. With a few quick strokes, Aramara used the stick to draw something in the earth. Icerra watched, motionless beside the slight shiver creeping over her skin. Aramara scratched two symbols into the dirt, simple but easily recognizable. Icerra had seen them before in the magic shop in town. Two glyphs, side by side, Mind and Fire. As soon as she finished, Aramara turned and looked Icerra straight in the eyes. Icerra swore she could see flames flickering in Aramara's gaze, but still she felt frozen, cold, chills run over her as Aramara spoke her first words in five cycles.
"He's coming"
* * *
Icerra flung her bag full of tloke parts onto the bar counter with a grotesque thud, "Delivery!"
Allelia laughed and took the bag, sorting out the various parts and counted out some coins in return. Icerra counted the payment, "Yer too kind, too kind" she said with laugh.
From behind she heard a snicker and an unfamiliar voice, "I've not seen a gathering of Kore in a while."
She turned to face the speaker, a young Kore menki with fluffy long fur, wearing a mask and a collar around his neck. "Hmm," she thought, "nothing cuter than a man who hides his face."
She looked around the bar and noticed no one else was there, "You talkin' ta me?"
"Err... more to myself..."
"Since when is two a gatherin'?"
"There was a third..." he shrugged.
"Ah... yer seein' things now"
"I'm not... he ran off, towards the stairs." At this, another menki bounded down the stairs and between them, out the door. The masked menki blinked.
"Alright, alright, I believe you.... uh, ya need a drink?"
The masked menki tried to respond, but they were interrupted once again by a Nolthrir girl running up to the bar with weapons drawn. Icerra accidentally on purpose fell backwards into the menki, but he didn't seem to notice, as he was concerned with the armed Nolthrir girl. She tried to laugh it off.
Just as quickly as she came in, the Nolthrir left, only to be replaced by a Demorian buffoon who tripped and fell as he walked through the tavern door. Icerra laughed at his awkward clumsiness, but soon some voices from outside caught her attention. They were speaking about Aramara.
Without hesitation, Icerra quit the tavern and rushed outside. She saw a fenki speaking with Nolthrir from the other bar, Ara's guild sister, Dannae. "Uh... hey... you said somethin' 'bout my sister?"
The fenki turned, "Sorry, who is your sister? Aramara?"
Dannae gave Icerra a pained expression, "Um... Icerra... I... um.... your sister's alright"
"She's alright? What's that supposed to mean? I've heard that about her before, it usually means she isn't alright"
Dannae held her gaze but winced at those words, "You're not going to drop this... are you?" She glanced at the other fenki, "I think I should tell her."
Dannae approached Icerra, tentatively reaching a hand out to touch her arm. Watched the hand reaching out towards her with confusion. "There's something going on.. you should know about it. I um... I would have told you before now... if I had seen you. Aramara asked me to actually. Come around somewhere a bit more private... I'l explain everything. Will you? please?"
Dannae shifted her glance to behind Icerra and asked, "Are you coming too?" Icerra turned to see the other fenki now joined by the masked menki from inside. She followed Dannae around the corner to a quiet location overlooking the main plaza, followed by the other two. Dannae pulled out two notes and handed them to her and explained how she received the threats and which names were called out. Icerra scanned through the notes, read through the strange rules and found her sister's name listed as a target.
"Your sister thought it was in her best interest to disappear until some things have settled. Miomo is with her."
"Whad'ya mean disappear?"
"She's hiding, Icerra. These people tried to kill Ixi after the first letter."
"Hiding? Do you know where she is?"
Dannae shook her head, "I did... I saw her a few days ago... but she said they wouldn't stay in the same place for long"
The masked menki spoke, "I hope Miomo can take care of her... he's kind, but I'm not sure if he can... err... nevermind."
Icerra felt a familiar sensation creep over her, impatience, frustration, fear for her sister that twisted her stomach in knots. She shot the masked menki a cold stare and waved her hand dismissively, "Whatever! she's probably taking care of HIM"
Her impatience was growing and she turned her attention back to Dannae, "So where'd ya see her?"
"You're not going to look are you?"
"What's it to you what I do?! She's MY sister! I want to know where she is!"
"She wanted me to tell you she had gone... that's all. Why would you want to take a chance of someone following you to her?"
That thought hadn't crossed her mind; Icerra frowned.
"It won't be long Icerra... I... I hope."
Again the masked menki spoke up, "Listen... I can understand why she would do this... it won't be forever."
"I don't get it... why didn't she tell me?
The strange fenki offered an answer, "I'm sure she didn't tell you because she wanted you not to worry."
Not to worry? Not to worry?! Emotions began to build. How could she not worry about Aramara?
Dannae reached out again to offer Icerra her compassion, "She wanted to"
Icerra stood stiffly with paws clenched, Dannaes touch going unnoticed. it's as if these people, these friends of Aramara's, had no idea, had no idea how much danger she was in. She stood unresponsive, her emotions a mix of anger and confusion
"She's never safe... never," was all she could offer.
Post Note: The last segment of this chapter was obviously derived from RP, so credit is due to the players involved. I could have easily included the whole scene, as it was excellent, but it was the final sentiment that I was after and the taste I wanted to leave in the reader's mouth going into the next chapter (which I'm extremely psyched to write)