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The Coming Storm (Zaila & Alvis)

When they returned to the tent, Ananya made sure to stay as far away from Elrane as she could both because she was terrified of him now and she didn't want to incur whatever wrath he was still feeling onto her. So, as he set to work putting Discipline back into its box, she moved over to the chair set against the side of the tent, waiting for an order or for him to speak, but not saying anything until either had occurred.

At his question, she nodded, going over to the bookcase and selecting a random book. She opened the cover and walked back over to Elrane, pointing to the letters. "I can see shadows of the letters because of the energy the ink gives off. It has to be this kind of ink though. Quilled ink I can't read. Not sure why, just can't." She shrugged her shoulders and moved back over to the chair, setting the book into her lap and looking over the words on the page.
 
"That book was penned in ink with an iron base to it. The metal might hold more energy than simple pigment." Elrane suggested. He knew the book she'd taken. he knew all of the ones he owned. Most of them had been taken as plunder on various campaigns as the Panron Dominae had expanded. He'd stood at the forefront of each of those assaults. It was an old book, saved from the destruction of a personal library, and read carefully. It was a book detailing an acient history, that of the race known as the Exclesia. He had found it facinating, and tragic all at once. "Read as much as you wish. There will be precious little else to do much of the time."

Sorry looked out at the slope. Something was going on in the camp, some kind of movement. He'd caught sight of something, a flash of sliver hair, and he knew that didn't fit in the Panron. They were almost universally dark haired. A part of him wanted to investigate, but the more logical part knew that was roughly akin to a suicide. He'd have to wait, see what was going on.
 
Hearing that the book was penned in ink with an iron base to it made her happier. That mean the words would stand out more and they would glow brighter so she'd be able to read them better. She nodded to his answer, but her attention stayed mainly on the book within her lap, the material fascinating. The Exclesia were an interesting people and their history, wraught with mysticisim and conquering, was doing its job in holding the girl's attention. "I know," she said distractedly while nodding again, her eyes focused on the words.

For now there was nothing to do... William had been given to the Seerdominae which meant he'd come back even more demented and maddened than he'd been prior to being sent there. "That was stupid you know," she said softly, shaking her head back and forth. "William will just fight harder for me now. He'll also try to gain allies when he comes back from the Seerdominae." She was still terrified of Elrane, but she figured he'd want to know what to expect in the next week or so.
 
"He will be marked by his time with the Seerdominae. No one in the army will assist one so marked. He would only find anything resembling aid from the Tenes...cowri..." He trailed off as an idea burned its way into his head. This was bad. Potentially very, very bad. "Panron help me, what have I done?" He'd handed an enemy an advantage, and done it so easily it was mind numbingly stupid. He cursed himself. he should have insisted. Discipline would have beaten the insolence out of the soldier so thoroughly to would have brought sympathetic pain every time he looked at Ananya. He'd need to plan now, figure out his approach.

Cuttle looked around. Something around him felt terribly wrong. He could see tedrils of dust flying in the light breeze, but moving far faster than they had any right to. He frowned, and carefully strapped his shield on. He didn't know what bothered him so, but this area reeked of danger. Dust landed on the ground, and began to swirl upwards. His horse reared, and Cuttle slid himself off, landing lightly, and lettting his horse leave for now. He needed ground under his feet for any kind of fighting. The dust finished swirling, and Cuttle gasped at what he saw now.
 
She listened to his words only halfly as he spoke since her attention was back on the book. It wasn't until he mentioned his only aid being the Tenescowri that she looked up, utter fear in her eyes. Her stomach twisted in knots which tightened her chest and made it impossible to speak for a moment. She started breathing heavily and rose from the chair, dropping the book as she walked to the other end of the tent, numb to everything at that moment and working on getting her composure back. When she finally did, her eyes turned on Elrane, blazing white.

"You handed an ally to Anaster! The man will stop at nothing to get me.... How could do you do that?!" She knew he had to follow the general's orders, but he could have tried to argue it at least. "You soldiers are so pigheaded... Violence is your only thought then you reflect on the consequences -after- the fact." She felt sick and the room started spinning so she settled onto her furs, pulling the blanket up around her protectively. "If he gets me it'll be your hide the general takes it out on because he won't leave me in functioning condition."
 
"No. Anaster will bear the brunt of the consequences. But I will have failed. And that, simply will not do." Elrane weighed his options. They were few. Anaster was too highly regarded by the Lord of Panron to do anything as obvious as killing him. But he would need to make move to balance things out. He had a few in mind. He flund open the chest at the foot of his bed, and began picking through it. He looked over at Ananya again, taking in the long sleeves of her dress, and nodding to himself. He pulled out a bundle of leather, and hesitated over what he was about to do. He was not forbidden from doing this, but it was highly unadvisable. He kept digging, until he found the second art of what he sought. He held the small, perfectly wrought blade, admiring it one last time. The blade was midnight black, and farily short. The blade was tulip shaped, and maybe the width of a palm long. It was known as a true killer, a blade usually favoured by pikemen. The heavy pike would bring their foe down, and then a quick stab from the true killer ended the enemy. The blade had a great deal of history to him, and he was loath to part with it, as well as the sheath that held it, but he saw little choice at this point. The only other knives he owned were warkinves, and nearly the length of his forearm. He sheathed the blade, and stepped close to Ananya.
"Give me your arm." He said quickly.

Cuttle stared down a corpse. It looked human, albiet a squat, heavy boned human. Sinew had dried to a nut brown, and what little skin remained was pulled tight across the bones. A helm made of bone sat upon it's head, and ancient furs hung in ragged strips. A huge stone greatsword that looked to weigh nearly as much as Cuttle himself was strapped across it's back. One word came to his mind, and it chilled him to the bone. Exclesia. The corpse unslung the sword, and swung it in a single motion.
 
She was seething with anger at this point, fingers curled into fists at her sides as he reasoned himself to a resolution for this whole fiasco he'd created. He moved from her and flung open the chest at the foot of his bed, digging through it for something. She gulped and stepped back, not exactly sure what to expect at this point since she'd both screamed at him and rebelled. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched, waiting to see what he emerged with. First came a bundle of leather, harmless enough, but the second sent a shiver up her spine. It was a blade, and not just a normal blade either. This one looked like it was specifically made for the purpose carried out with it. He started stepping towards her, but he'd sheathed the blade so all she did was eye him curiously.

Her entire body stiffened when he demanded her arm, her feet stumbling back as she shook her head back and forth. "I won't let you mark me." She'd managed to avoid any kind of physical scarring during her time here and she certainly wasn't going to allow Elrane to brand her.
 
Elrane rolled his eyes, exasperated. He held up the bundle.
"It's a wrist sheathe you idiot girl. It fits under your sleeve. It's for you own defense." he explained. His patience was wearing thin at this point, but at the same time, he could understand her reluctance, after watching him beat a man within an inch of his life. Still, things had to be done. His willingnes to give this blade away was also fading, the more he thought of it. It was likely he'd never get it back. He reached out, and pulled her arm out. He pushed her sleeve up, and with practiced presicion, strapped the wrist sheathe onto her. He let her go, and stepped back from her.

Cuttle threw himself back, narrowly missing being cut in two by the huge blade. He lunged in, shield charging the corpse, but it seemed to explode into dust a split second before impact. Cuttle looked around, bewildered, only to hear a creaking sound behind him. He crouched, adn spun, his sword scything free, and swinging as he moved. The blade ripped through ancient tendon, and he stood, knowing he'd severed the main tendon in the leg, and his foe would be immobile. The Exclesia stood still, and slammed a hand into him. Cuttle felt a stregnth far beyond his own, and he went sprawling nearly five feet away. He had never before felt this far over his head.
 
She blushed in embarrassment at her assumptions and nodded stepping forward again. "Sorry, but...you can understand why I jumped to conclusions... That blade is menacing." She tentatively put her arm out and took a couple more steps forward until her arm was directly in front of him. The sudden grasp of her arm caused her to want to jerk away in reflex, but she remained still, allowing him to put the sheathe onto her arm.

It was empowering to have such a foreboding weapon at her disposal and even more so that now she had a way of defending herself against Anaster's, and William's now as well, attempts at garnering watch over her. No doubt William would set to work immediately building allies with the Tenescowri and Anaster would probably make him some kind of apprentice to his insane ways. William already had the destroyed mind, now Anaster had only to plant the seed in there and wait for it to start spreading its roots. "Thank you," she replied softly.

She stroked the blade while settling back onto the furs and picking up her book, settling it on her lap once more and flipping open the page with one hand while the other pushed her sleeve down, the bell formation of it hiding the sheathe completely and making it impossible to tell she was wielding a weapon. It was perfect.
 
"It is a good blade. It saw...someone through a great deal of strife." He replied to her, sitting down. Memories came unbidden, ones he tried hard to blot out. He closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths. He need to focus, to get himself back under rigid control. To do otherwise risked opening the floodgates in his mind, and he couldn't afford that. Not now. Now, even among allies, he was in enemy territory. And he'd need to act like it now, or everything was going to come crashing down.

Cuttle managed to stand, his chest feeling like it was on fire. The Exclesia simply looked at him through empty eye sockets. As Cuttle watched, more dust landed on the ground, and swirled into warriors. His mouth hung open as he saw how many of them there were. Nearly a thousand of them stood before him. This many hadn't been seen since the first Emperor, and even then, only rarely. He knew then, that after everything that had happened, he had o chance of emerging from this alive.
 
Every time her and Elrane talked, it seemed she managed to strike a nerve within the man or dredge up something painful in his memories. He didn't even like looking her in the eyes which...was something she was used to, but his body language betrayed some hidden discomfort that didn't only have to do with her. This time was do different since he mentioned the blade helping someone, the pause in his speech noted but not touched upon since she figured it wasn't her business. Also, her position didn't allow for prying into other people's privacy.

"I'll take good care of it," she replied softly, bringing her attention to the book again and biting the inside of her cheek. Elrane was a great fighter, skilled like none other, but...even he had his weaknesses and no doubt the Tenescowri knew at least some of them. That thought brought a shiver up her spine, fingers gripping the book a little tighter as she took a deep breath in then exhaled. "If...If Anaster and William gain allies and go up against you, will you win?" She knew Elrane cared nothing for her safety, outside of his orders, and he could care less if she were killed after his duty was up. But she still needed to know that he was confident and had the necessary allies and help he could call upon in a moment's notice which would, hopefully, make the number bigger on his side.
 
Elrane flexed a hand, grinning like a well fed predator.
"William is but a child to me. Even were he fully armed and equipped, I could kill him barehanded. With little effort. The Tenescowri...meat for the grinder. Anaster cannot gather enough of them to take you, not without sacrificng any indulgance he has with the Lord. Even if he could, there's no way to safely send them for you. They are not an army to be deployed, adn controlled. Simply unleashed, and they rend and tear, ad kill in a frenzy of violence. You'd be more likely killed, and torn apart than brought back safely to him." He explained The grin didn't waver. He knew where the martial power of this equation lay.
 
Ananya glanced up when he spoke, hearing the grin in his words. She feared the grin was founded on overconfidence which could easily land them in a heap of trouble should something happen. However, as he continued with his reasoning, she felt better and more at ease with her protector's abilities. The Tenescowri seemed like nothing more than savages who knew absolutely nothing outside of mindless and pointless bloodshed. They would kill her if they managed to garner care, and in doing so, they would be killed as well since they'd have killed off the general's seer.

It had been a few days by this point. While she didn't exactly like her situation, she had to be grateful Elrane was composed and calm enough to not take his angry moments out on her and stayed collected when others would have overreacted. Her eyes dropped back down to the book and she leaned back, nodding to show she comprehended everything before her attention went back to the stories of the Exclesia. Part of her wondered if Cuttle had survived, but considering what Elrane had told her it seemed impossible for him to come out of that unscathed. All she could hope was he'd awoken before the building collapsed... He was her only hope now.
 
Elrane thought back to the raid he'd led. It was likely the last time he was going to be involved in a military action for some time. The Legionairres had been an unexpected find, and the big one, Cuttle, had been one of the last worthy foes he'd faced in a long time. He'd have liked to see the fight through to it's conclusion. As it was, he would never know if he could have defeated the big man. And that would rankle him slightly. Worthy foes were few and far between for him, and each one was to be valued like an old friend. He closed his eyes, and sighed softly. His eyes tracked along one of the shelves he had set up in the tent, and crossed to it. Set on a shelf, was a small holder for a weapon. He lifted it with the utmost care. A heavy scimitar, the tip curving upwards, but the entire thing was made out of flawlessly worked obsidian. It glittered in the fading light. He'd never tried it in a fight, but knew of it's ancient make.

Sorry rolled away from his perch, hearing footsteps closing on him. He swung onto his horse, and slipped out his crossbow. He'd taken it from a fallen Marine in the Legion. It was heavy, a span of just over two feet. The tips curved out from him, until he cranked the windlass at the base, drawing teh string back. These weapons were the most powerful of their type in the whole of the world, able to put a bolt through a fully armoured man at nearly six hundred paces. He dropped a bolt into place, and turned his steed, preparing to head out. He heard a shout, and saw a Scalandi patrolman. He snapped off his crossbow shot, and saw the mans head snap back, blood pouring from the wound. Sorry spurred his horse, sending it running down the slope. Scalandi. This cold end up being very bad if they came after him. He wound his crossbow again, reloading.
 
From the corner of her eye she could see Elrane moving from the bed, eyes flicking it up from the book and watching to see what he did. He took a weapon down from the shelf. A scimitar by the looks of it. She'd seen it in pirate books mainly and always thought it was a really interesting and foreboding looking weapon. "What did you do with that?" she asked softly, moving into a sitting position and turning toward him. She didn't expect any answer really, but she needed to talk about something. She wasn't tired and it was only the beginning of the evening by this point so she was desperate to find something to keep her attention. The book was doing a good job of keeping her entertained, but Elrane had so many weapons and she was interested in knowing where they came from.
 
Elrane looked over to her.
"I have done nothing with it. It was a find of mine, as we crossed through a ruined city, rooting out a rebellion. The city had been ruined for many thousands of years. Our scholars had determined it was in fact a relic of the Exclesian empire. Within a room, I found this blade. A weapon crafted in ancient times, before the working of any metal existed. It is an Exclesian blade, making it older than anything else in my collection. I've not had the heart to use it, for fear of damaging such an irreplacable weapon." He explained. His grip shifted to the hilt. Just holding it gave him a feeling of a link to a bygone era of the past.
 
Ananya was instantly more interested when she heard him say the blade was found in the ruins of the Exclesian empire. That was the race she was reading about... "That's from them? Really?" She stood from the furs and walked a little closer to him, looking along the blade in awe of its craft since it was made before metal existed. It was a beautiful obsidian blade and she felt incompetent in the presence of the master craftsmanship. "Yeah, I can see why." She couldn't see the color, obviously, but the minimal energy coming from it said that it was stone rather than metal and the dark color lent to it being black.

She held her hand out tentatively. "Can I hold it? I promise I'll be careful..."
 
Elrane hsitated, looking her up and down. The blade was...heavy. Obsidian, essentially a naturally occuring volcanic glass, was dense, and even he felt the weight of the blade. but, assuming she didn't drop it, and slice her foot off or something similar, he doubted she'd do much harm to it. He turned it around carefully, and offered the hilt to her.
"You must put both hands to it. It is not a weapon for the slight." He warned her. His mind was still on the question of how the weapon had been shaped so perfectly. The edge was utterly smooth, and he knew from accidental touchig of it, that it was fantastically sharp.
 
She grinned and nodded when he offered the blade to her, both hands curling around the hilt as she pulled it towards herself. She stumbled back a bit, not expecting the weight of the blade, but after about a moment she was able to heft it back up, moving backwards until she reached the bed. She pulled the blade into her lap and ran her fingers along the side, nodding. "A friend of mine in the town. He ma-- Um...used to make blades like this. He knew how to use earthen stones to make fabulous blades. Jade, Amethyst, even Diamond I believe. He made an obsidian one once. It wasn't as nicely formed as this one, more a dagger, but he used a porous rock to sharpen it. Pummus I think he called it."

She moved her fingers along it and just lightly touched the top, nodding at the sharpness she felt that just about cut the skin, but she knew how to touch it so she remained unscathed. "He would have loved to see a blade like this."
 
"A lost art to most. Some scholars state that the real use of steel only began a half thousand years ago. before that we used a cruder iron. And before that bronze. Predating that was unalloyed copper and tin. And finally, before that, stone. In all of it's ancient wonder." Elrane had an odd tone to his voice. As if remembering something long ago, or thinking of something that was nearly forgotten. "I know the story of nearly all of my weapons. But I know not where that blade had travelled, who had wielded it, whether battles were won or lost on it's edge. What sorrow and glory was won by it. And I know that because of where it is from, the odds of ever learning the answers are very limited."
 
Elrane didn't realize it, but Ananya was softening him up in a way. By keeping him talking and telling her stories, she didn't have any worry as to him getting dominant or angry with her again and...waking up to a dagger stabbed into the ground next to her head. She listened intently as he spoke, nodding in agreement as she looked along the blade until she reached the hilt, moving her fingers from it so she could lay it against her lap. Only one other energy signature was on it, other than hers and his, and it was dark, dark red. She shuddered a little. "The last wielder of this was evil... Very evil... I can see his energy." She rubbed her fingers through the red hue and instantly felt her skin go cold from the intensity of the negative energy.

She held the blade out to him and shook her head, feeling a little dizzy. She'd always been sensitive to energies, not only seeing them but feeling them depending on if they were positive or negative. The negative always had a bad affect on her. "I don't like this weapon anymore..." she said softly, hoping he'd take it back so she could start feeling normal again.
 
"A sword is neither good, nor evil. And the wielder of a blade, who has been dead a countless number of years...who are we to truly know his circumstances? Good, evil...such things are subject to the views of mankind. You may think a man a traitor, and a monster, but to some, he will be a patriot and a hero. I do not state you are wrong. But time changes many things for the world Ananya." Elrane said calmly, taking the sword back from her, and setting it back on the stand. He looked at it a little more, still half enamoured with it, before looking to another stand. It was long, and covered by cloth. On an impulse, he threw it back, showing what was under the cover. As tall as he was, gleaming in the light, the bright steel seemed to nearly shimmer. He knew it would likely shine in the vision of one who saw by the energy of an item. It was one of the prizes of his collection.
 
Ananya knew this, but it didn't change how the wielder felt when he was delivering the final blow the weapon would take before being found by Elrane. She took in a deep breath when he pulled it from her fingers and closed her eyes, gathering her composure back now that the offending weapon was gone from her grasp and was no longer messing with her. Sometimes she cursed the ability to feel energies like she could, but it was useful in certain circumstances. That was one thing about Elrane that confused her... He could keep his energy in check no matter what he was feeling. He showed anger easily, his voice betraying it, but she would never be able to tell by the stoic nature of his aura. He was the only military personelle she'd seen in the entire camp that was like that.

"Yeah, well, I just didn't like it," she said offhandedly while watching him move off to something else and take off the cover. Instantly the thing blinded her, making her shield her eyes for a second before she was able to look upon it again. The thing was radiating energy... White energy, the most powerful she'd ever seen, but at least it was good energy this time. "That is a powerful weapon... Is it enchanted? It has a very powerful and intense energy signature."
 
"No, it's only magic is in it's superb craftsmanship. One of the greatest smiths in the world made this. The pinnacle of his craft, the last of the set he forged. They were called the Fire Blades. A rapier, a broadsword, a curved sword, a bastard sword, and finally, this. It was named Dragon Fire. It has seen war onyl three times since it's crafting. Each time it carried it's wielder to victory. Alas, as a Bekalite, it is ill suited to my station, and I have seen little opportunity to make use of such a fine blade." He ran a hand along the flat of the blade. A full sixty inches of steel, with a full hands width, the sword was impressively massive. A full two hands of grip showed, with aggressive foreward sweeping quillions, making the hilt look flawless. The pommel weight was a masterpiece in and of itself, being a gemstone the size of an apricot. Elaborately cut, with more facets than the eye could take in, it glittered beautifully, reflecting light in the tent. The hilt was inlaid with precious metals, and small gems. It was as much a work of art as it was a weapon of war.
 
As Elrane spoke about the sword he took on the role of a storyteller, his tone even changing to sound more mystical and traditional. It was clear the man held a great deal of respect for the weapon and that was something she had to admire. War and battle was his life...While he wasn't the nicest man in the world, or the most civil, he still has passion toward something. There was still a drive that kept him motivated and prevented him from falling into the deep, dark, grasping jaws that the military could very well be.

So many men had been corrupted by the power that belonging to a group such as the Panron Dominae could bring and, while Elrane was all about strategy and expansion of their empire, he wasn't bloodthirsty or vengeful by any means. He was always calm and collected, careful not to let his emotions rule his actions. In a way she was jealous of him since she pretty much wore her emotions on her sleeve. Also, it was kind of hard to judge how to keep your face composed if there's no way you can see someone's features when they make different emotions. Sure, she could hear it in their voice, but she had no idea what a grimace, smile, or even frown looked like. Sighing, she went back over to her furs and settled onto them.

"It seems like a foreboding and quite...impressive weapon. I'd imagine it looks exquisite in design as well." She bit into her lip and looked down at her fingers, her heart tightening in her chest. "Elrane...what's going to happen to me?"
 
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