"Take this trash with you, maybe it'll do you more good than it has me." Fae says throwing her blade across the clearing.
Orias goes to pick up the blade. "I thought you used a bow."
He stoops and takes Omen by the hilt, his fingers touching the blade. Suddenly, the sword glows red and Orias falls to his knees, screaming in agony. It appears as if he is being torn in two, a human figure that Cynafae recalls from the vision Nethys had given her and a dark devilish figure that bears a multitude of scars. The devil falls to the ground like a marionette without any strings, while Orias curls into a ball, wracked by pain.
Orias looks up at the tiefling. "Fae? Is that you?"
He groans before shuddering some more.
"Look at that... Damn thing was useful after all." Cynafae says before slipping into unconsciousness. The stress of operating a flesh and blood body proving to be too much.
As Yulia fell asleep, her rhythmic breathing allowed Drago to fall into a meditative state.
She bowed and spoke, "Greetings Drago Zakharov, my name is Inana, your Aunt. We need to talk about Tarja."
The Summoner was taken aback, "My, Aunt? How....how are you here?"
A pained look crossed the spirit's face, "Tarja. She feels responsible for my death at Blackcrown, but her memory is....flawed. For her own sanity, I need to set the record straight." The ghostly woman reached out her hand, "Let me touch the mark of our house upon your brow."
Though he had never met this being, something about her seemed trustworthy. Stepping forward, he allowed her touch.
The rune upon her forehead began glowing, and a vision appeared in his mind.
The dragon fire had just missed the Eidolon and her Summoner, a beautiful woman with violet hair and orange eyes.
Tarja held her ranseur tightly, "We have to get out of Blackcrown, it's lost to the Dragons."
"Tarja, I'm surprised at you. Never thought you'd ever run from a fight. We have to hold while the survivors get away." Inana responded while energizing the siege shot to be launched at the oncoming red dragon.
"I know a lost fight when I see one." The Eidolon said.
Suddenly, the stone they were standing on gave way, into the waiting group of Akulov Summoners. With a wave their hands, three of them launched Tarja against a wall, pinning her there. The other two advanced on Inana, a menacing look in their eyes. The Violet haired Summoner tried to defend herself with magic, but the two men kept countering her every attempt. Against the wall, she feared what they intended to do.
Suddenly a Blue Dragon the size of a man, landed through the hole. "I told you, none of that or I'd end you. Well, you didn't listen." In a flash of movement, the dragon tore the traitorous Summoners apart with its obsidian-like claws. Tarja was in shock, and couldn't move. The dragon looked at Inana, "I'm giving you one chance, leave, now, and you'll live." Turning about, it started leaving. The Summoner reached down and grabbed sharp shard of rubble and rushed the dragon. With a swipe of its tail, both the Summoner and Eidolon flew across the space. Tarja ended up impaled on a splintered timber.
Approaching the fallen Summoner, the Dragon said, "You should have left." Lunging forward, the dragon slashed its claws across Inana's belly, leaving a gaping wound that caused her to scream in agony. But only for a moment, as the blue monster clamped its jaws about her throat and held on. As life ebbed from woman's eyes, the vision faded.
Drago pulled his head back, "That was intense. It's no wonder she doesn't trust dragons."
Inana replied, "She blames herself for not saving me. Please, tell her it wasn't her fault." Quickly, the spirit faded.
Drago opened his eyes, trying to process what had happened. That was.....strange. He thought to himself.
Scanning the sky, Sadhana, glances to the west. "Ah, there! The Warrior." she says pointing to constellation with a row of 5 stars forming the line considered to be the figure's sword. "I always liked the idea theat at the same time, a scared kid the night before their first battle would look up at her and draw courage, while somewhere else someone who managed to make it through that life and hung up their sword would see her and draw solace from their memories."
"So which side of that are you on? Are you still the scared kid or the grizzled warrior looking forward to retirement?"
Fae comes to in a small bedroom of a wooden cabin, Orias laying in a bed across the room. A middle-aged woman walks in. "Ah, you're awake. I thought it was just a cliche to find passed out people in the wilderness, I suppose I was wrong. I took the liberty of cleaning your wounds and dressing them."
She walks up to the door and hesitates only a moment before knocking.
Arista just sits quietly and gives Sienna some time to relax.
Remembering which room was his she goes to his door and knocks.
Fae looks around pushing aside the pain of her headache. "Um, thanks. How long ago was that?"
"Last night, so about eight hours ago," the woman answers.
With not much else to do Fae succumbs to her curiosity. "How exactly do you manage out here on your own?"
"The Hospitallers were a hardy bunch, when we had a chapel," the woman says. "I prefer being out in the wild to the comforts of a civilization I don't belong to. I know how to keep myself alive and fed. Though...the quiet does bother me every so often."
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"Is that why you brought us here, for the company? You're not gonna feed us cookies and throw us in an oven?" Fae asks.
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The woman laughs. "No, you don't look well enough for my special pies."
She gives Fae a wink. "I'm kidding. Though the Hospitallers are no more on Zahvroma, I still believe in helping others. Old habits die hard."
"Then we got lucky, thanks again." Cynafae lays back down with her arm over her eyes to block out the light.
"I put your sword up in a safe place," the woman answers. "As for that devil I found...well, that was the odd part. It just seemed like a soulless puppet. I figured it'd be best to get rid of it. I probably don't want to ask any questions, just rest and feel better."
The woman gives Fae a nod before returning to the other room.
Fae taps her finger in thought. 'Now how did Cyna's father know my name... I guess I'll have to ask when he wakes up.'
Orias stirs in his sleep, muttering. "Where...where did she take Fae?"
"It just doesn't like me," Cynalea huffs.
Sienna gets out of the bath and dries herself off. "Could...could you get that spot between my sorry excuse for wings? It's always hard to reach there."
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Arista nods and takes the towel to help her get the hard to reach spot, "Ya know...we're all made different for a reason. Don't be so quick to put yourself down all the time. There is nothing wrong with who you are. It's our unique differences that make us all special." She finishes helping her to dry off and moves around to the front of her where Sienna can see her, "Look at me Sienna, you are beautiful just the way you are. There is nothing wrong with your appearance. We love you because of you, nothing else. It's that love that's going to bring Cyna back to you, to us. We just have to hold on and have a little faith." Though she means every word of what she says, she can't help the slight tremble in her voice.