Stolen Bones [Alakazam & Grungeknuckle]

As the hours passed Aria dozed, coming in and out of consciousness too quickly to really be getting anything she could consider rest. At the very least she was enjoying the relative quiet of it all. Until the storm picked up anyways. Aria sat up and looked to try and peer through the covering of leaves that shielded them from the storm. That was when she heard the distant cry and the woman immediately shivered, her blood running cold.

Her eyes went from the old man, who had just stirred for the first time, to Samuel, as if to be sure that one of them had not caused such a disturbance. The expression on her worried face softened slightly when she looked at Samuel, and Aria reached a hand out to brush a few stray locks of his silver hair back from his forehead.

That was when the she heard the old man speak. She turned to look at him, and that was when she saw it.

Aria had to fight to not audibly gasp at the sight of it. A servant of Celedan. The flood of emotions that came over her was overwhelming, to the point that all she could do was stare as it made it's way to the man.

The elven woman had given up, so to speak, on putting so much faith in the Gods a long time ago. It wasn't that she didn't believe in them, but that she didn't believe they were of any use to her. They hadn't helped her people when the village was attacked. She never felt the warmth of their presence when she was alone and afraid. Eventually she had ceased to pray or give offerings, as she saw little point in wasting her valuable time and resources on beings who ignored her.

And now one was here. It was beautiful and terrifying, and despite all of her instincts and reflexes she had no idea what to do.

At least it seemed to be only concerned with the older man. That is until he opened his eyes and looked to her. Move aside? It wanted her to move aside? For a moment her body screamed no. Her hand found Samuel's wrist and it clamped down around it, but after a few breaths past she realized there was no reason to distrust this spirit. The sight of it did not fill her with the cold emptiness she had felt with the skin weaver. No, when she looked at it now she felt more of a familiarity, like when he heard songs from her youth being sung to an elven child by their mother. It was sort of aching warmth, one that was all at once comforting and sad.

With a sort of halting sigh Aria let go of Samuel and stood, stepping away from the angel and giving him a wide berth. Now that she was moving she realized there were tears stinging at her eyes, and she wiped them away to the best of her ability while she watched both the angel and Samuel closely. Yes, she had moved away, but she was not trusting of the servant in the least. If she could have found her voice, if it was not stuck in her throat in combined awe and anger, she perhaps would have been more vocal about this.

With unhurried strides, the angel made it's way over to Samuel's prone form. Maytein stood and trailed it, walking over to stand next to Aria, and placing a hand on her shoulder, but never taking his eyes off their visitor.
"I do not believe he wishes you harm. I believe, if he had, he would not have asked."
Perhaps he spoke the truth. Or perhaps he was too devoted to doubt the angel's intentions.

When the angel looked down at Samuel, and across at Aria, it's expression was difficult to read. There was a spark of something in it's eye, almost indecipherable. Not quite disdain, but... and expression one might make, when among inferiors, or unruly children that you were not particularly fond of. It leaned down it's great head, nudging Samuel's chest and face with it's muzzle, snuffling and sniffing. If it wanted, it could have taken off his head with it's antlers, with but a swift jerk. Instead, the servant stuck out it's tongue, long, thick, and blue, licked Samuel's face. Then, it simply watched him.

Something imperceptible must have happened, some unseen change, for after a moment, the angel lifted it's head again, and moved away, heading back to the woods. The creature stopped, and looked back towards the group, letting out a snort and stamping a foot. Maytein's eyes went a little wider. "I... yes, of course." The old man walked over to the angel, and again, it whispered in his ear, in what must have been hushed gibberish to anyone else but him.

Both turned their attention to Aria.
"He says... I don't fully understand, but he says he found something along the roads through these woods. Something that moved in defiance of the Horned God's cycle of life and death. Something large and rotten. He says he dragged it up from the darkness, and ..." The old man glanced at the visitor, "... and made it still. It will pursue you no longer. You will be safe, for now."

The servant moved on, but Maytein held back. "Tell Baiste'nal and Rukad that I'm sorry that they can't come with us. He needs me, to help make a new path. Something is coming, and His Forest is stirring."

Then both disappeared, noiselessly striding into the darkened trees. Maytein's posture had become more hunched as he spoke, as if the weight of his age was bearing down on him. But as he slipped through the trees, it almost looked as if he moved on all fours, a swift, easy lope, that became smoother with each stride.

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

Baiste'nal was the first to wake. She had looked down at herself and at Rukad, and her expression was that of one stricken with embarrassment and shock. She peeled herself away from her nighttime companion, hurridly grabbed her clothes, and mumbled something about a nearby stream before rushing into the woods. The sound of someone washing them self. Her motions awoke the dwarf as well, who acted in a similar fashion, pulling his own clothes on as fast as possible.
Once the elf returned, neither spoke to the other, and seemed to have difficulty even looking at one another.

The dwarf stared at nothing, his eyes lost in the ashes of the night's fire.
"Well..." he finally said, "I.. suppose..."
"Where's Maytein?" The elf interjected, suddenly realizing, now that she was clothed, that one of their group was missing. Unlike last night, she was doing all she could to avoid looking at Samuel's still unclothed form.

And then, Samuel awoke as well. It started slowly at first, a inhalation, a slow fluttering of the eyes. Then like a trap snapping, Samuel was awake, sitting straight up, with his discarded trousers in his hands, covering himself.
"Oh. I... I, um..."
Samuel looked around for his other clothes, rubbing his forehead while doing so, before abruptly pulling his hand away.
"My face is sticky. Why is my face sticky?"
This was not the only thing going on with his face. Though Samuel could not see it, his eyes, and eyebrows, had returned to their original black color.

"Hmph how comforting," Aria remarked, her eyes glancing briefly to Maytein before snapping back to Samuel and the angel. Despite the old man'a reassurance she was still concerned, wary of how it would react to Samuels magic (or lack thereof). Though she didn't think Celedan would necessarily have a strong aversion to necromancy one could never be to sure of the will of the gods.

The elven woman withered under the sight of the Angel when it seemed to examine both her and Samuel. She felt like a child who knew she was guilty of disobeying her parents. Part of her knew she should not feel disdain for the creature, but she could not help it. Her faith was too tightly linked with disappointment.

Her brow furrowed when all the spirit did was lick Samuel, and then simply seemed to watch him. It seemed satisfied, but with what she did not know, since it straightened up and began heading to the woods, beckoning the old man with it. They both stopped, and she watched as the angel communicated with the old man while she began walking back toward Samuel, kneeling down next to him just as Maytein addressed her.

Her breath caught as the man spoke, and she looked to the Angel with a look of total shock. It had stopped the spirit the necromancer had sent after them. She couldn't understand why it would help a thief and a necromancer, but she mouthed a silent thank you at the creature before nodding to what Maytein said next. "I'll tell them..." she said as she watched the two disappear into the forest.

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

The whole experience had been so surreal she had been stuck, sitting next to Samuel, staring into the fire, trying desperately to gather all her thoughts while worrying over what exactly the follower had done to Samuel. She was now dressed, having felt the need to be more prepared for whatever was thrown at her, and as Baiste'nal woke and was clearly embarrassed by her own nudity Aria was glad she had taken the time to clothe herself.

She watched as the woman ran off, and then her eyes went to Rukad. Aria had to fight a smile at the sight of both of them, so embarrassed over the previous night. Despite her amusement she left them alone, not commenting out of a desire to not make it worse. Instead she tried to figure out how to explain to the two what had happened with Maytein. They seemed to solve that problem for her though since eventually Baiste'nal noted his absence.

"Well...um...you may find this...a little extraordinary at the very least but a servant of Celedan ca-" she was interrupted by the sound of Samuel stirring next to her. Aria immediately turned to him, watching him react to his own nakedness with a bemused smirk up until she noticed the change in him.

Her mouth stood ajar for a moment and she grabbed his shoulder to hold him more still. "Samuel...your eyes...and your eyebrows...." They were no longer the almost lifeless silver and gray they had been before. They were dark, and she would even venture to say the skin of his face seemed to have brightened a touch. She unsheathed a dagger and held the blade up to his face so he could view his reflection.

"A servant of Celedan, well an angel really, came while you all slept...it...Maytein left with it," she said turning to look at Rukad and Baiste'nal. "He says he was sorry you two could not come...But the follower...well Samuel it licked you to be frank. And now...this..."

Samuel initially drew back, thinking Aria's intentions for drawing the knife were very different than what they actually were. Though his memories of the prior evening weren't exactly what someone would call "clear," he could still recall everything, from taking the first dose, to passing out with Aria in his arms. Surely, he hadn't done anything while he was unconscious that would cause this kind of behavior.
Especially considering the rapport, however shaky, they already had.

"Wh-hey, Aria, easy now, you don't have to..." His voice trailed off into curiosity, as Samuel realized his companion was trying to show him something, not threaten him. In the shine of her blade, he saw an unsteady visage, dashes to the forest around them, spinning with each twitch of the glinting steel. Then the dagger was steadied, and he saw two eyes staring back at him. Eyes he knew well, but hadn't seen in a long time. He took the blade in his own hands, and stared at himself.
"God's above..."

The only thing that drew him away from his reflection was Aria's offering of an explanation. "He... licked my face?" He then went back to looking at the mirrored blade, though his expression was one of mild disgust, and concern. "I don't think I like the idea of anybody licking my face while I'm asleep. Well... maybe..." he briefly glanced over at Aria again, "...No, no, that'd be weird too."

This was one of the reasons he had left his home and family. Once he had discovered his talent with necromancy, started experimenting with it, his appearance started changing as well. If he'd been studying some other form of magic, he could have continued to hide these changes, passed it off as the effects of magical exposure. It was well known, especially in the magical community, that the magic wizards would use would effect them, prematurely age them, change their eyes, hair, sometimes even their voice. But so far as his family knew, Samuel couldn't use any magic. The very thing that gave him his talents, blocked him from learning alternative ones. He had no way to hide what he was becoming.
So he left.

He didn't know what this meant, though. What had the Angel done to him? "Thank you, Aria," he said, handing the knife back to her. Samuel was still naked, and at the moment, this seemed to be the easiest thing to remedy. He slipped behind a tree, still covering himself, and attempted to dress, as quickly as possible.

Aria noted his apprehension when she drew her blade, and something in her stomach fluttered in an unwelcome way. A small part of her was pleased to see him shrink back a little. After the beginning of their relationship had had a less than amicable start it was nice to see him recognizing that she was dangerous. Yes he could command the dead, but she could kill with ease, and with a variety of weapons.

Even still it also bothered her to see him react that way. Perhaps because she had become fond of him in a sense, and she didn't like seeing someone like Samuel having such little trust in her. Especially since she was now stuck travelling with him for the foreseeable future she couldn't have him flinching every time she drew a blade.

He did calm down though and took the knife from her in order to get a better look, and she watched his reaction with interest. The black his eyes and eyebrows were now must have been what they were before he had started practicing his craft. She knew how it could affect someone's appearance, and with Samuel it had been one of the things she had originally found repulsive about him. His dark art had seemed to seep into his skin and his very being much like she wore her life on her skin with her scars and tattoos. Of course now she saw it as less of something to look down on and more of a fact of his existence that she found appealing in a way. There was something charming about the silver of his hair and the almost entirely gray irises.

Her train of thought was interrupted by him handing her back the dagger she had given him. She sheathed and looked up, only to find him getting up to go put his clothes back on. The elven woman bit her lip, thinking for a moment. Looking over to Rukad and Baiste'nal she mumbled something about wanting to check on Samuel before getting up and disappearing into the obscurity of the trees he had walked into.

She purposely tried to make as much noise as she could when she came upon him in order not to startle him, but with how quickly she was moving it was hard to tell if she had given him enough of a warning. Either way it didn't matter, what she had to say was important. "Samuel," she said in an urgent whisper. "The angel...he told me something else...he got rid of that...shit what did you call it? An Exmortis, yes? The Angel said they took care of it, that we would be safe from it." As she spoke her eyes roamed the forest around them, wanting to be sure the elf and dwarf were not within ear shot, but as she finished they settled on him, finding it odd to suddenly be staring into black eyes instead of gray.

"That is a relief to me...and I suppose if he did such a deed then whatever he did to your face," she moved her hand to his face as she spoke, brushing a few lock of his hair off of his forehead to better look at him,"can't be dangerous."

Samuel was hopping up and down on one leg, in the middle of getting his pants on, when he heard someone coming. Hissing under his breath, he jammed himself into the breeches, and got the fly buttoned closed just as Aria came around the tree. Like someone caught, his head jerked around to glance over at her, but he relaxed, seeing it was just his companion. "Oh, it's just you, Aria," he sighed in a whisper. He poked his head around the tree, to try and gauge what the others were doing, but only got a brief glance.
More than eager to get moving again, Samuel started pulling his tunic on, though less hurried, and more carefully, now that he knew Aria was watching their backs. It wasn't just the fact that he wanted to get away from the two remaining priests that drove him. He wanted to get out of the forest as well, as the though of some higher being watching them every step of the way, benevolent or not, make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. And on top of that, he wanted to be alone with Aria. No, not for that reason.
Well, not entirely...
But right now he felt like she was the only person he could trust, the only person he could be frank with. It wasn't that he felt she'd take his side on everything, no, he still remembered the remark she made about him going full alchemy last night. But he knew she'd give him a fair chance. She might not always understand, and might not agree, but she wouldn't damn him and his craft on principal alone.
Right now, that meant the world to him, more than he'd let on.
With her, he had someone to really talk to, and not just mindless banter.

Speaking of which, it looked like she had something to say.
"What is it, Aria?"

She spoke of the Angel, of what it had told her. She reached out, and tried to comfort him, as if his change in appearance was something that horrified him. It wasn't, it just... shook him. Samuel had let go of so much of his former life, that suddenly coming face to face with, well... himself, brought back a lot of memories and sensations. Guilt mostly, with what he was. But the drive as well. The need for redemption of sorts, to prove that he could be more than the sordid history of past practitioners, that Necromancy could be a legitimate form of magic, not some dark and vial thing.
For so long, he was only concerned with the how. Now, he was again thinking about the why.

A light smile touched his lips, as Aria raised her hand to brush aside his hair. Holding her hand in his, he pressed her palm to his cheek, and held it there, as if contemplating the sensation of her touch. "You didn't really think I was born grey, did you? Anyways, I couldn't agree with you more, the," Again, he glanced around the tree, "other one should be off our tail for a while. When a God who's normally gentle and quiet sends you a 'Fuck off' like that, you tend to re-arrange your priorities. They've got bigger problems than us right now, which mean's we're free to go pretty much anywhere we want. Any ideas?"

"That's comforting in a sense," she said as he explained that the necromancer would probably be off their backs for a while. As she spoke her eyes flickered to his hand that held hers before going back to his eyes. Of course she hadn't thought he was born grey. Though humans aged slower than elves he hardly looked old enough to be graying. It was just...a change for her.

But where to go, that was a good question. She pulled her hand back to herself and rested a finger on her lips as she thought. "Preferably somewhere with a bed and perhaps a bath. I believe there is a small trading town not too far from here. We could stop there." Eventually they would have to go to another big city though. At least if she wanted to make any decent money, but considering the terms she had left the guild on avoiding a city at least a little longer felt like a better option.

Aria also needed rest. Unlike Samuel she hadn't taken any of his mixture and she also hadn't slept much the night before. The woman was accustomed to keeping odd hours as far as rest went, normally they weren't accompanied with all that she had gone through the past few nights. It wore on her and it was visible, not just in the tired look of her eyes or the scrapes and bruises on her body but also in the way she held herself. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she stood slightly less erect. Her movements looked sluggish, especially at the moment since she felt little reason to be alert. "I also could use...a little rest," she said, deciding it was best to mention it in case he wanted to push farther than the next town. "I hadn't slept much before we met...and haven't slept much after."

She then stretched and shrugged, as if to down play how tired she felt. Aria wasn't particularly worried yet anyways as she had certainly been worse off before, but she was travelling with someone whose fighting skills didn't necessarily inspire confidence in her, and she rather them not get into trouble simply because her reaction time was not at its best.