The True Mirror

Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 2:43 pm Post subject:

Roland didn't remember much of what had happened. He remembered the stranger grabbing a hold of him, pulling him close, threatening to kill him. He remembered the wind rushing through his hair and his body feeling lighter than a feather. And then all of a sudden in a blast of heat warmth and weight returned to him. He was falling from the sky. And then he collided with something. Someone.

His eyes flashed open and he yelped out in pain as he was thrown into a young adult male. The force he fell with must have been strong, as he toppled the youth to the floor. This, coming from a 15 year old, was extraordinary. There was a few moments of absolute silence as the eyes of many monks set upon the crumbled heap of Roland and this brown-haired apprentice. This soon fell into commotion as the monks scrambled to pull him off of the youth. Roland hated the thought of being manhandled by peasants, and as they pulled him away he spat and kicked at them.

''Get off of me you mindless oafs!'' he cried, jumping to his feet. ''You will rue the day that you touched me in such vulgar ways!''

He folded his arms snobbishly and watched as the boy he had landed on stood up, brushing himself down in disbelief. ''I don't know who on earth you are,'' Roland said angrily, ''but I demand that you let me go this instant! Do you know who I am?!''

''He's Roland Roncevalles,'' came a gruff voice from behind, and all of the monks turned to see who had said it. Stood there, looking shaken and slightly dazed, was a man in dark attire wearing a large hat surrounding his dark brown hair. The assassin who had 'kidnapped' Roland. Roland shouted and pointed an accusing finger at the dark figure.

''Do not say my name without my former title, cretin!'' he demanded. ''I am LORD Roland Roncevalles! And what devilry would have me speaking to you in such a civil manner?!'' he panted and tried to run at the attempted assassin. ''You kidnapped me! You took me from my home and brought me to this...this...awful place!''

The monks eyes drifted between the two of them, now far too confused and interested to voice any concern of their own. This was probably the most excitement they'd had for years. Even the boy who had been landed on was keeping himself quiet...for now.

The dark figure shrugged and looked around. ''This is Wolong. I would think a 'Lord' would know his own lands. Apparently not.''

''Don't be outlandish with me!'' Roland retorted. ''Who do you think you are?! You...you tried to kill Sir Alberich! You are a filthy killer!'' The boy was shaking with anger and fear. He'd never been this far away from home before. He'd never so much as left the city, let alone been this far on the other side of Alvasta.

''Who am I?'' the man said under his breath, lowering his hat to cover his red eyes. ''I'm Gerrante Orchidia. And as for wise n' powerful Alberich, y'all best just letting that one slide. A' messed it up anyhow.''

He turned his back on Roland and began walking away. The monks, who had said nothing yet after his arrival, remained silent. Roland however was not going to let this man escape.

''Oh no!'' Roland said bravely, puffing his chest out. ''You're not leaving! You're going to be arrested, cur! Guards! Seize him!'' He folded his arms and looked smugly at Gerrante, waiting for his guards to attack. When nobody did the boy seemed deflated. ''Where are my guards?!'' he shouted, spinning around and looking into the air. ''Where are we?! Where is the Capital? Illuminor has not trees like this!''

There came the gravelly tone once more, ''Wolong.''

''I don't know what in Ledah's name Wolong is!!'' Roland screeched, panicking. ''Is it a rest for my feet or a warm cosy fireplace? Is it a servant to attend to my every whim? No? Then I care not! This place smells poor!!''

Gerrante sighed and slapped a hand across his own cheek, groaning. ''Just can it, alright Kid?'' he demanded, causing much aggression from Roland, who began to try and fling his arms at Gerrante. Two of the monks held him back and Gerrante smiled to them, ignoring Roland and the curses he was making, instead attempting to single out the leader of this place or someone of importance. His eyes fixed on the boy who had been effectively flattened by Roland.

''Y'all alright?'' he asked, surveying the youth with his prowling eyes. ''Ignore the kid. He's a long way from home.''
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 3:05 pm Post subject:

Grayson grunted in response, not used to the indignities of being thrown to the ground by some pompous child. He shook his head, dust falling out of his hair in clouds, and then his face registered an aggressive grin. "He's a bit of a dick, isn't he?" he responded, indicating towards the agitated youth before them, before being scolded by a nearby monk for his language.

He blinked, watching Roland for a minute with his odd-coloured eyes, thinking how easy it would be to run him through with his lance. He could tell the older man was having similar thoughts, judging by the grimace of agitation on his face. "It's true" Grayson growled as soon as the monk let go of him. "-He should keep his mouth shut. Pretentious little rat"

"I guess meditation is over though huh, Master Nikolai?" he suddenly exclaimed, sounding a little too overjoyed about it, overlooking the obvious questions of how those people got there, and what they were there for. Visitors weren't usually allowed into Wolong. It was a secretive village, and Grayson had only been accepted on harsh terms. These people just weaseled - or rather dropped - in.

"Master Nikolai?" Grayson repeated when he heard no response. Where was he? And why hadn't he stepped in already to assert the situation? The monks were congregating around the newcomers, and even villagers had come over to see what the fuss was about. Grayson noticed a woman standing next to him, and tried his best to ignore staring at her quite obvious cleavage.

He gulped, then thanked the heavens when he heard that familiar voice.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 3:39 pm Post subject:

''Silence!'' came the strong, elegant voice of Master Nikolai, floating towards them all. All eyes turned to him as he brushed by his monks to tower before the newcomers. ''Who disturbs Wolong?'' he asked simply, and Roland went to speak, but Nikolai held his palm before the boy to silence him.

''Speak not.'' he said simply, beckoning Gerrante Roland to follow him. ''There has been enough trouble here today. Follow me. Grayson come.''

He was a man of few words, intent mostly on preversing Wolong as an isolated state. Long had Wolong been abstract from Alvastan normality - it lacked the grandness and bustling metropolised population of much of the country. Instead it was alone in the middle of a large pine forest, free for isolated silent monastary's and the perfect tranquility of bubbling brooks to prosper. To him it was paridise, but one thing he couldn't accept was visitors entering without permission. It was a very strict and just place, and any outside source had to be purged before entering, else it could spoil the purity of the holy ground. Above combat prowess and training, Master Nikolai was a man of simple ideals and religious provinence.

Gerrante followed obediently and Roland struggled and feigned insults, but he was pulled by the arm by Nikolai. The boy was then thrown almost aggressively to the floor, Gerrante taking his position in front of the boy and facing Nikolai and Grayson.

''Grayson, do you know these men?'' Nikolai asked, but it was clear that Grayson did not. Nikolai sighed and looked to Gerrante. ''What is your business here?'' he asked, considering it unwise to attempt reasoning with the aggressive noble behind him.

''I was teleported here with this boy,'' Gerrante said honestly. ''A' was trying to create some sorta conflict up in the Capital but I failed. This noble got in my way when a' was escapin'.'' He saw no reason to lie to this man. He doubted that Nikolai would have any serious loyalties to the crown. This palce seemed as if it wanted to be away from Alvastan rule, after all.

Nikolai closed his eyes in ponderment. ''What kind of conflict?'' he asked, and Gerrante responded, ''tried to kill the Diviner, Alberich.'' At these words Roland tried to strike out at Gerrante, but he was held back by the brown-haired youth. Gerrante appreciated his company, whoever the lad was - they had been in agreement over the annoying state of Roland.

''Is her persuing?'' Nikolai questioned.

''He is,'' came the reply, ''but a ain't waiting here and allowing harm to come to Wolong. We are not being tracked and troops will not come here looking for us. Y'all have my word.''

The head-monk seemed to give this some consideration before speaking. ''I want you to leave,'' he finally said. ''We do not care what business you commit yourself do outside of Wolong. But we will be disturbed no longer by you. Leave.''

He turned his back on them and pointed to the path he had led them to. It ran down the side of the hill towards the secluded exit of the little village between two large oak trees at the bottom. He clicked his fingers, ''Grayson, are you coming?'' refusing to look back and see if his apprentice was. Gerrante nodded to Grayson for a moment and then looked down the path behind. Roland seemed reluctant to go with him, but arguing with Nikolai wasn't an option. Gerrante walked off slowly down the path without Roland, and after a few moments of appearing resolute in not following, the boy found it impossible to stay there alone. He quickly sprinted to catch up with Gerrante, thinking it better to be with a potential murderer than alone in that poor, creepy village.

Nikolai sighed and shook his head as he attracted the attention of his monks, rousing them into their training state again. ''Ignore what happened,'' he demanded, ''we must meditate twice as hard now to rid ourselves of this accursed chi.''
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 7:30 pm Post subject:

"Oh man..." the brown haired youth grumbled, before nodding to the two newcomers, and then turned to plod after Nikolai. They walked past the place that they had then currently been practicing, and Grayson noticed the monks had picked up the routine again without the help of the Master. They all stood like large ceramic dolls, still and composed in form and body.

Still they walked, and Grayson realised they were walking towards the outhouse that was some way away from the main village. He didn't question as to why they were going, instead putting it down to Nikolai's last statement, about ridding Wolong of bad spirits, or whatever he had called them. He sighed as they walked, the hope of new interaction with people fading as he lost sight of Gerrante and Roland - though the latter he didn't much care for.

"How do you think they got here Master?" he asked, trying to stir up conversation as he always did, his brash nature underlying an intelligent and inquisitive being. "I mean, they can't have just transported here like they said, could they? And they certainly can't fly!" he laughed at the thought, before realising none of his questions had been answered, and also that they had now arrived at their destination.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 7:53 pm Post subject:

Nikolai did not answer Grayson's inquisitions. It wasn't important where the two strangers had come from - the fact remained that they had gained entry into the secret village not only without his consent, but also in the wake of persuing soldiers from the Capital. This could have been disastrous, and Nikolai could only hope that they hadn't been tracked in any way. If their Aspect signiture linked them to Wolong, he could only imagine what the army might do. Nikolai had heard of Alberich Nabreus' wicked streak and he didn't wish to encounter is personally.

He sighed as he pushed the door to the outhouse open. The little building lay a top a peninsula on the small cliff-side, keeping it away from the village. Nikolai did not like to be disturbed when he was meditating alone, and this was his little haven of freedom. He allowed Grayson to walk on through, closing the thin wooden door behind them both. The inside of the room was dimly lit by the sun outside, but still rather dark with a lack of open windows. All of the blinds were drawn, creating dark shadows around the room that flickered ominously. He opened one blind and light poured into the room like blood from an open wound. The sunlight danced upon the windowsill as he sat down on a cushion in the corner of the room, waiting a moment before letting out a deep breath.

''Meditation is only one form of mental training,'' Nikolai told Grayson. ''The other is real life experience, Grayson. The greatest men throughout the ages have all had one thing in common - the lives they have led. I fear that, in coming to Wolong at such a young age, you have missed out on a valuable part of your life.''

He stretched a strong hand out and pointed towards the open blind. ''Look out that window,'' he said, ''do you see the other monks?'' He watched as Grayson did as he asked, observing the monks below. ''-They differ from you,'' he went on, ''these monks are older. They have lived their lives to an extent and now wish to seek enlightenment. But Grayson, can you really spend the rest of your life here?''

The old master sat up from the cushion and walked over to the window, standing beside Grayson. He held his hand out as the sunlight engulfed it, smiling softly as a little bird landed on his finger tips from above. It clumsily rolled around chirping in his hand. ''This bird needs to spread it's wings, Grayson.'' The old master told him. ''He has been living on the roof of this hut for weeks. His mother has provided for him. He has been given every chance in life.'' He opened his hand wide and blew a breath onto the little baby bird, and it quickly hopped from his hand and took flight for the first time, brown-crested wings carrying it into the sky. ''It is perhaps time that you took flight as well.''

''I remember when you came here,'' he said as he walked back into the hut to sit on his familiar cushion. ''You were running from the course life had set you upon. Your father had decided your fate and you faught it. You exchanged one life for another...but is your choice wise?'' He held his hand out for Grayson and pulled the boy to sit beside him on the second cushion, the both of them sitting cross-legged. ''I am old and grey, Grayson, but even I know that you aren't entirely happy here. You are a strong fighter...but you lack the heart of a warrior. To fight we must not just be skilled with a weapon, Grayson. There are other lessons to fighting. Chivalry. Protection. Duty. These are things that you cannot learn by staying here.''

He smiled warmly at Grayson, the same way that a father may look towards a son. ''The arrival of those two today may have been the winds of change, Grayson. Maybe, like that little bird,'' he pointed to the window, the bird having returned to perch on the windowsill, ''-maybe it is time that you too flew from here. Do not tie yourself to one cause until you know that that cause is worth fighting for.''

Nikolai fell silent for a moment, chuckling under his breath. ''Oh, Grayson. I grow cold, and my aching, weary bones cannot propel me to stand. Be a good boy and fetch me some lumber from outside, would you? A fire is needed, I think. Pay me no heed...that was just the ramblings of an old man.''

He knew, however, that his speech had meant something. He wanted to see if Grayson would fly or fall. He expected great things for the boy, and adventure beyond any he had expected when arriving in Wolong all that time ago.
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 8:11 pm Post subject:

Grayson nodded and picked himself off to go and fetch the fire wood. He felt the chill that was now seeping through his skin as he went out the door, and as the wind blew at him gently. As he picked up the wood, he thought about what Nikolai had said.

An old man's ramblings wasn't quite what Grayson would have called then. It was almost philosophical in the musings it was giving. Grayson had no ambition to 'take wing' or to spread his wings, or any bird related imagery. He was comfortable learning what he could learn in Wolong, and though it was true that he couldn't see himself staying forever, he didn't see himself leaving in the near future.

It goes to show though, that though he tried to run away from his path, he could no prevent it from catching up with him.

He was born to be someone. His parents before him had been, and Grayson was no simpleton. He was clever - maybe not the most intelligent, but all the same, clever - and he was determined. Maybe not determined in life, but with a set goal, he could achieve.

Or so he had been told so many times. Grayson couldn't see himself going anywhere but maybe the army, like his mother and father before him. But there was no war, no strife. What could he ever hope to possibly achieve? Nothing.

"Here's the kindling Master Nikolai" he spoke as he walked back in, carrying a fair load of wood, sufficient to make a fire. He set it down in the fire place and set about creating the fire few sparks, hunched over, lost in thought as he clacked the flint and the stone together.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 8:31 pm Post subject:

The fire was soon blazing and the room was filled by a warm orange glow. In a very short period of time it had become cold in the village, especially on the cliff-side. The night was slowly drawing in and Nikolai couldn't help but let out a large yawn from a hard days training. He wasn't as young as he once was, and recently he'd been feeling sleepier earlier in the day. He had lost his energy from his youth, and much preferred now to be the one talking rather than fighting. He was not somebody who could be beaten in an argument, nor in a battle of wits. The pen was now his sword, and the paper was his battlefield.

''Good boy...'' he said quietly under his breath as he sat back on his cushion, his eyes closed. Grayson stayed beside the fire, poking it occasionally to send a cloud of ashes up the chimney. Outside the birds were still chirping, but the swallows and cuckoos were slowly beginning to be drowned out, replaced by tawny owls cooing. Everything upon that mountainside was peaceful and restful. The fire crackled seductively as Nikolai entered a trance. They must have sat there for an hour at least in utter silence. By the time Nikolai opened his eyes it was getting dark outside, the sun beginning to set over the horizon. He relished in the golden glow of the fire and shuffled a little closer, putting an arm on Grayson's shoulder.

''Now lad...let us talk about matters of most importance.'' he said, holding his hands out to absorb the heat. ''I have been thinking since those two arrived and pooling the information of which they said. The taller one spoke of trying to murder Alberich Nabreus. I know you knew him.'' He thought back to when Grayson had first arrived - a fresh-faced teenager with an attitude, who had been fired from the Alvastan military by none other than Alberich himself. Nikolai continued quietly and quickly. ''Alberich Nabreus is a dangerous man.'' he informed Grayson, ''he cannot be trusted...and whatsmore, he will have had his people track that man and his Aspect signiture. Any device of Aspectry needs to be followed and recorded in an elemental frequency. Only the greatest artisans can identify these signitures, and Alvasta has many since the Garuuzian wars.''

''I tell you this now, Grayson, because we are no longer safe. Our existence is known. We have always been an isolated place...but now that Alberich knows we're here, and that the killer has been here too, he will assume us to be working with him.'' His eyes were serious, but he didn't look entirely worried. His expression rarely changed. He was never happy, nor sad. He was merely Nikolai - strong-willed and serious. Never showing weakness, always exuding strength.

''Grayson,'' he said softly. ''There is much to worry about in this world. But you, my boy, should get some rest. Feel that heat on your face and enter your own mind. Maybe you will be graced with foresight.''

He watched the embers disappearing up the stone chimney, and peeped out of the window on the other side of the room to look at the sky. Something about it seemed different. The sky seemed stretched and thin. He nodded knowingly and patted Grayson on the shoulder once more. ''Do you miss your family, Grayson?'' he asked gently. ''Your mother and father, and sister too. They must be worried sick. Do you never wish to return to them?'' He closed his eyes and leant back against the wall once more, although he was very much listening - his ears were now at their most sensitive, with all of his other senses shut off. ''Tell me about them again, Grayson. You never really did.''
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Ranna · Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 3:58 pm Post subject:

"There's not much to tell. Most people know more about my parents then I do?" Grayson trailed off, poking the fire out of habit. He could tell this would not be a satisfactory answer, and so sighed heavily, delving into something he'd rather just keep to the back of his mind, where it belonged.

"You know about my mum and dad. Griffin riders, heroes. The whole package. I'd rather not tell the entire list of things they've done, all I know is I'm never going to achieve as much" he spoke, sounding utterly dejected. He wasn't depressed about the scenario, more subdued. As he thought, he spoke out his story, and saw out of the corner of his eye that Nikolai was listening intently.

It started with how he had been encouraged to take up fighting by his father, and academic subjects by his mother, who wised for him to have the education she received as a young child up to adulthood. But it never worked out. Though bright, Grayson was a brash young boy, and started to fight at school, and was soon expelled. He was homeschooled by his mother and grandparents, along with his younger sister, Taima.

Years went on. His father retired, and conflict began to grow. The two, once inseparable through the bond of training and son-fatherhood began to argue, fight. Competitive at first, but Grayson wasn't one to take continuous defeat lightly. When old enough, he enrolled in the once famous Alvastan Academy, though was, as Nikolai had mentioned, been excluded for the second time in his life. So he had come, alone, to Wolong.

"They might miss me, but it doesn't matter" he spoke softly, watching the fire burning still.
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Cudpug · Posted: Thu Jun 25, 2009 4:34 pm Post subject:

''A parent just wants what is best for you, Grayson,'' Nikolai said earnestly. ''They may not always show it, but they mean it. I assure you.''

He patted Grayson on the back and smiled, his face lit dimly in the pale orange glow of the fire. ''I have never met your parents, but I would imagine that they miss you, Grayson. We all miss things when they are not there.'' He looked into the fire and started to poke it himself, embers flaking into the chimney above from his strike. ''I too have known to miss things. Missing people and places is interesting.'' He cleared his throat, either because he was about to embark upon a long philosophical speech, or because ash had drifted into his throat. It was unclear at that point which of the two it was.

''When things are there we take them for granted, Grayson,'' Nikolai continued. ''I imagine that when living with your mother you rarely took the time to tell her that you are glad for life, and that you love her. Perhaps she forgot to tell you the same. But now that you are gone, she will be wishing to say it to you every day.'' He sighed and continued to observe the fireplace. ''It is sad that Wolong does not allow for visitors. It is one of the few things I cannot allow. To leave Wolong is to leave the order forever. But know that whatever happens your mother and father will love you, Grayson.''

He drifted into his own soliloquy, speaking to himself as much as Grayson. ''My mother and father were not much different to yours. I joined this order as a form of escapism...but soon found that I missed them. They will be dead now, and I never said many of the things that I wished I had.'' He allowed his hand to rest on Graysons' shoulder once more, squeezing it slightly and looking into the boys eyes. ''You are a good student, Grayson. You are quick to learn and skilled. I can see that with my own eyes. But for thinking that you will never achieve as much as your mother and father I condemn you.''

Nikolai stood up slowly and plodded over to the window, resting upon it and looking down into the little village of Wolong below. It was becoming too dark to see what was going on down there, but he appreciated the gentle ambience of the night falling over the sleepy haven. ''Greatness and achievement cannot be measured, Grayson. I have never 'achieved' anything. But I feel fulfilled. I will die peacefully having enjoyed my life. I am glad with the path I took. And when monks come here, I always know that they will remain forever.'' He turned to Grayson and beckoned him to approach the window with him. When standing together, Nikolai pointed into the distance and drew out the image of the ocean way off in the east. ''You are different Grayson. I do not feel that you...belong here. Your achievement will be measured in different ways. Soviel the Condemned was only one foe to this world. There are plenty of other evils to be stopped. And I just so happen to think that you, Grayson Saigen, may be the one to stop them.''
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Ranna · Posted: Fri Jul 03, 2009 3:54 pm Post subject:

“Sure…” Grayson replied, with little enthusiasm in his voice. His body, as well as his mind, grew weary. With a yawn, he stretched out, and he stood up a moment later after prodding the fire some more to keep it alive, before nodding to Nikolai, and taking his leave of the little hut, and leaving the old master in his seat, inches away from slumber.

Outside the air was still heavy, but the sun had gone down now. Grayson trudged his way through the fields, mainly thinking of very little. He noticed something move by slowly overhead, something like a ship, but more rounded. It wasn’t very fast, whatever it was, and nothing very grand looking, to say the least. His mind soon wondered off the subject, though decided to put what Nikolai had said to the back of his mind.

“I don’t need to leave. I’m perfectly fine here, as I am” he protested to himself. His courage only allowed him to say so much when he was alone. He kicked a stone, and it rolled, leading all the way up to the door of his house, or rather, his hut.

He pushed open the door and kicked off his boots before throwing off his shirt – as the night was always warm in Wolong. Too tired to hang anything up, or tidy anything. He flopped onto his bed, and before he knew it, another day had come around.
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Cudpug · Posted: Fri Jul 03, 2009 8:53 pm Post subject:

Roland yelped, stumbling on a log and falling into the damp earth below. The two of them had spent the night in the woods outside of Wolong and were now heading roughly in the direction of the Capital. With any luck and with a steady pace in their stride they could arrive on the day, and then Gerrante would be free from the snobbish noble once and for all. He hadn't meant to have brought Roland into the mess, and he was looking forward to taking the boy back to his Manor. That wasn't his only score to settle in the Capital - another visit would give him another shot at taking Alberich Nabreus' life.

The night had been frustrating. Roland had scarcely ceased in belittling Gerrante. When he wasn't telling him how hard he would be strung and quartered when they returned to the Capital he was insulting his unkempt appearance. Gerrante had zoned out and taken the abuse; this noble had obviously never been surrounded by people of the lower class before, and when he returned to the Capital he would rarely meet paths with one again. Attempting to teach him some sort of great moral lesson would have been a wait of the gunman's time and energy.

After half an hour since their last confrontation Roland eventually spoke once more. ''To think that you would try and kidnap me...'' he said, fumbling about in the wet ground with his shoes. ''Did you honestly think that you would get away with it, ruffian? The Imperial Alvastan Army and Sir Alberich would never let me be stolen from my stead! I am far too vital!''

Gerrante rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, ''Aye, caus' so far we've run into Alberich and his merry men so many times.''

Roland gave him a scathing look of disapproval. ''Oh he's looking for me alright!'' he said loudly. ''You just wait! When we get out of this forsaken forest we will be surrounded by the Alvastan army ready to kill you for your sins!''

''Sins?'' Gerrante sighed under his breath. ''Aye, I be guilty of many a' them. But I doubt that great and wise Alberich would be the one to pardon me, kid.''

They did not resume their conversation for a while longer. They were both tired from walking through the forest earth, and had Roland not come to terms with the necessity of their walking he would have complained eternally, as he had done the previous day when they first warped across the country. It was only when they entered a clearing in the woods that Roland spoke, his voice seemingly softer and more inquisitive than before. ''Why were you trying to harm Sir Alberich, rogue?'' he asked, noting Gerrante's reluctance to answer and his dismissive tone.

''Yeah, you're best not asking that.'' he said simply, shrugging Roland off. ''Just be sure that it's entirely personal. If that bastard saw who I was he'd have a fit, for sure.''

Roland swore under his breath, scuffing his feet along the ground and pouting. Even though he worshipped Alberich as the defender of Alvasta he couldn't deny that he was interested in why this dark figure wanted him dead. As awful as it was, it was also equally as exciting, and this level of excitement Roland had scarcely seen before. ''Just you wait,'' he said under his breath, as to prevent Gerrante from hearing his threat. ''-The moment we get out of these woods Sir Alberich will have you in irons.'' He smiled viciously at the thought but stayed close to Gerrante - his enemy was also his greatest protector in these woods.

He remained close to Gerrante until they escaped the woods. As light closed in around them and the trees parted, Roland ran for salvation. He stopped in his tracks when he saw an all-too-familiar figure sat upon a rock outside of the woods, looking as if he had been there for some time. Gerrante frowned as he tried to recognise him, but Roland's words made the answer clear:

''Master Soloman!'' he squealed, jumping at the scholar. ''It is wonderful to see you! Did you come to save me, Master? Save me from this awful fate? Oh! I have had such a terrible time!''

Gerrante could only watch, casually observing the wrinkling of Solomon's nose at the actions of the young boy.
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 10:50 am Post subject:

"Ah Roland, I thought you would find me here if I waited a long enough time" He spoke softly, before raising his eyes, his level of vision fixing upon the rugged man who Roland had been associating with. He shook his head a little, but did not speak to the man, instead keeping Roland's attention upon what was going to happen. He explained where they were, and the young lord explained that they already knew, due to their encounter with the people of Wolong, and the Master of the establishment. A frightful, dutiful man by the sound of him, Solomon thought.

He stood up after snapping his book shut, and picked up something that was on the floor. It looked like a weapon - a lance or spear - but without a blade attached to it. It merely had a large red orb on the top, which looked like a snow globe, but the water and the flakes inside dyed a deep scarlet. He held it like a walking stick, though was perfectly capable of walking on his own two feet without it's aid.

"Well then" he spoke "-Shall we get moving?"

They already knew going back to the capital was the best port of call. Solomon only hoped Alberich had been a good sport, and not sent news of Roland's kidnap to Duke Roncevalles. If he had, to say the least it would not be the best of news he had heard all day. And the day hadn't been all that great to begin with.

"You, ruffian" Solomon called to Gerrante. "You can leave. I will take Lord Roland back to the Capital" he spoke offhandedly, wondering why he was still with them. He also wondered why Gerrante hadn't wondered off or left Roland in the first place.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 12:26 pm Post subject:

The rogue smiled darkly, his eyes passing through Solomon to stare into the distance. The Capital was in the direction they were pointed towards since leaving the forest, and that was where this newcomer must have come from. He looked like a scholar type - weilding an odd staff and wearing spectacles. His golden-white hair pathed down his shoulders and curled slightly at the ends, and he wore a uniform of Alvastan artisans - regal and ornate. He was clearly of a high standing in the capital - possibly Roland's charge - and he wasn't the sort of person Gerrante wanted to make an enemy of. Yet.

''How did ya find him?'' Gerrante asked, ignoring Solomon's request. ''A' guess you can track Aspect Signitures, huh?''

He noticed the elder nod slightly, and he smiled to himself from his correct assumption. ''You should watch out when using Aspects,'' Gerrante said casually, ''it's those things that are causing all the problems across Asgard at the moment. Although...I doubt up there in your high towers in Alvasta ya can see what's happening to tha' people.''

Roland stood behind Solomon, fearful of Gerrante and glad to be free of his company. Gerrante looked to the boy and informed Solomon, ''you needn't worry about the kid. I didn't do anythin' to him. No need to get judges involved or nothin'.''

''It was a simple procedure gone wrong,'' he told Solomon. He didn't want to reveal his mission to a potential ally of Alberich Nabreus'. Chances were that this Solomon was one of the Diviners' own, and that reasoning with him would be impossible when the rogues ultimate mission was to murder Alberich. However, it didn't matter if he wanted Solomon to know or not - Roland saw to that outcome.

''Master Solomon!'' Roland said, tugging his Master's sleeve forcefully. ''This cur tried to kill Sir Alberich! And he's spoken about doing it again since! We must take him to the Capital and have him arrested and strung!''

Gerrante shrugged and let out a sigh. ''Damn. My plan is ruined.'' he said simply. ''-It's true, I guess. I am going to kill the bastard you call Alberich, and like it or not I am going to the Capital with ya. If ya have a problem with that, you're welcome to try and stop me.''

He looked threateningly at Solomon. It was make or break point.
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 12:50 pm Post subject:

Solomon raised an eyebrow, then kept on walking onwards, without even dignifying the man with an answer. He spoke only to Roland, not acknowledging whether the gunman was following them or not, but neither declining nor accepting his word that he would tag along. It mattered not to Solomon whether he meant to kill Alberich again, or whether he meant Roland any real harm or not. He hadn't so far, and Alberich wasn't exactly his best friend, though telling the criminal that may give him evidence against him, if caught later or during the act of assasination.

"Tracked you with Aspectry readings yes. You didn't go all that far in great honesty, so I feared the soldiers of the academy may also have been able to track your footsteps" He spoke, knowing it had been the ruffian's question, but speaking as if it had been Roland's. "We could have used a similar teleportation method, but this close to the city is dangerous, and too easily recognised" he explained, before the young lord could try to demand that they use the quicker alernative.

"It will only take a day or so, if we are able to find means to catch a train. They run quite frequently, especially around and to the capital. We shall easily be there before the night falls, if not before day break" he informed his charge, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I trust we have no objections to this route?" Solomon asked, as if speaking to air.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 1:02 pm Post subject:

''Feris Station is nearby,'' Gerrante said bluntly in response to Solomon's question. ''If you want to get a train we can from there. As long as nobody recognises the young Lordling.''

Roland looked up to them both with sparkling eyes. ''A...train?'' he asked, and then, ''A train!'' He had read about trains before in books, and had spent a great deal of time when learning of engineering in a book Solomon had provided him with researching how trains were first made. The plans had been established thirty years ago, maybe fourty or fifty, but only in the last eleven years had they been used frequently. Being expensive, it was only ever really nobles who used them, but occasionally the working class would save up to visit family across the country and such. Roland had been fascinated by the thought and couldn't allow this opportunity to pass him up.

''Can we take a train please, Master? They are wondrous things!'' he asked urgingly. He even looked to Gerrante with desperation, as if to get the rogue to convince Solomon.

''We can take a train if ya want, kid,'' he said, rolling his eyes. ''But I ain't sure you want to go into a public spot like that.''

''Why not?'' he asked snidely. ''Because guards might see you and arrest you?'' He folded his arms and grinned viciously. Gerrante sighed and adjusted his hat slightly on his head. ''-Not especially,'' he then said, ''but if a lot of people see you it could incriminate your friend here. But whatever. Do it if you want.''

He pushed by them both and took the head of the group, knowing that Solomon and Roland would involuntarily follow him. A while passed with Master and Pupil speaking in hushed voices between each other, until Gerrante interupted: ''Hey, Solomon,'' he said curiously. ''Impressive that you can track Aspect lines. The Alvastan's have very few who can. I bet Great and Powerful Alberich can't. Probably gets someone to do it for him. Probably you, aye?''

Roland growled and reached for his rapier, but Gerrante's hand fell to his pistol, without even looking back to see Roland's hand movement. ''Not a good idea, kid.'' he said simply, ''-once we get back to the Capital I'll leave ya be. There's just somethin' I have to see.''

''Is it about me?'' Roland asked, expecting the world to centre around himself.

''Possibly,'' is all Gerrante said, before cutting himself off and pointing into the distance. ''There it is. Feris Station. And just our luck; looks like a train has stopped. Hope you have some cash on you, rich guys. Would be terribly ironic if Mr. Noble and Mr. Scholar didn't have any coins on em'.''
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Ranna · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 1:25 pm Post subject:

"I came prepared" the scholar replied courteously, taking out a satchel full of heaving coins. He untied the lace tide that held the top of the bag together, and with it purchased three tickets from the ticket booth. He handed one to Gerrante, and one to Roland. "No need to thank me, your grace" Solomon mocked as he saw Gerrante examine the ticket with a keen eye. Roland too seemed to be inspecting the item, but there was no time to stand around.

They boarded the train, and moved to the back of the carriage, where the first class compartments where. Knowing Roland, he would not like to be seen with anyone lower in status than himself, with the obvious and very present exceptions. Solomon closed the door behind them as people moved past, and waited for the train to move before he even thought of starting a discussion.

He commented on the general look of the train, and asked if Roland found it impressive, to which he gained a positive answer, perhaps the first time since they'd met back up. Then, the white-haired man cleared his throat, knowing no one was in the carriages either side of them, before speaking.

"Back to your comment earlier. I am not working with Alberich, so do not think I am. I am Lord Roland's tutor. Nothing more, nothing less" he spoke. "And now I fear we have set out on a journey in which none of us are quite aware of who is who. Introductions, if you please?" he asked, the other two forgetting that he had been left behind when they had been blasted to the other side of Alvasta.
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Cudpug · Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2009 1:36 pm Post subject:

''You know me, Master!'' Roland said with a giggle. ''Lord Roland Roncevalles! You don't need my introduction!'' He stared out of the window as the train began to speed along the track, steam spewing from the funnel atop the carriage. The wheels chugged and trees whizzed by as blurs of green and brown, fascinating Roland beyond compare. Gerrante decided to give his introduction to Solomon whilst Roland wasn't paying complete attention.

''I'm Gerrante,'' he said simply. ''A' ain't one to give myself a grand introduction. I am an enemy to Alberich Nabreus, not Alvasta itself. So you ain't gotta fear for the safety of the kid or nothin'. I want to get him home as much as you do.''

He shrugged, slumping back in his seat and removing his hat for the first time. His hair was short and brown, and rather messy underneath his hat. Through his hair dark red eyes could be seen, but he didn't especially make it clear, rarely giving eye contact to those he spoke to. ''I might as well be honest with ya if ya don't work for Alberich. A' can't exactly trust that ya don't, but I'll buy it.''

''I was in the city trying to shoot Alberich on his grand return to the citadel. My reason is my own and I ain't gonna tell you, so don't bother asking. I missed, unfortunately, and I got the hell out of there. As I was making my escape I ran into the kid-'' he looked to Roland for a moment, ''-who was most likely terrified and fleeing for his life. Was purely coincidental. I teleported and he got caught in the blast. Simple as that.''

He seemed pleased with his story and it seemed legitimate enough; that was until Roland chirped from the side of them both. ''Actually, that isn't quite all, is it, rogue?''

Gerrante looked to the boy, who shuffled away from the window to sit beside Solomon. ''Master, I didn't just get caught in his blast. He tried to steal something from me and I wanted it back. He is no more than a common thief!''

The dark characters eyes flashed as he looked to Roland, bearing his teeth. Roland continued.

''Master! He was trying to get his dirty paws on my musical trinket. The one...mother...entrusted to me. The one that plays the tune...I forget what it is, but it helps me sleep. I could not let him have my keepsake!''

Gerrante frowned and turned to Solomon. ''Alright, the kid ain't wrong there,'' he said softly, ''-but I ain't gonna tell you why I did that either. I ain't a common thief or nothin' though, I swear.''

He slipped his hat back on and looked up cautiously at Solomon. ''Tell me about yourself then if we're doing the intros, old man.''
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Ranna · Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 6:53 pm Post subject:

"Old? I doubt I am much older than yourself" Solomon commented, though didn't look offended. He heard it too many times to take it too personally. He placed his hand on the table that separated Roland and himself from Gerrante, before speaking, responding to the gunman. "I am Solomon Artisan. Scholar, Tutor" he began.

"There's nothing noteworthy about myself. Educated to University degree, but nowadays who isn't?" he shook his head slightly at that, before continuing. "I used to work for the Senate, before being dismissed. Apparently, I was a revolutionary" he smiled, as if to show the irony in his words, though the sparkle in his eyes gave away more than his words could have. His eyes were bright - a light, crystal blue. They held an intelligence that with a gaze could belittle most men.

He thought whether to tell more, and when beckoned on by a keen silence, he did explain himself. "People nowadays think caring for Garuuzian culture is too much change. Too much effort, more like" Solomon sighed, his demeanour silenced by his own dejection. He didn't know Gerrante's views on Garuuzians, though he didn't exactly strike him as a devout Alvastan, giving the circumstances of their meeting. He knew Roland however, would have something to say, but for now he ignored his young charge.

"Now, as I said, I teach Roland as his tutor while his father is not present. I don't work for the Senate, nor have any connection to it. Nor am I a great lover of Alberich. Though he once assumed I wanted to be" the scholar laughed, though received confused looks.
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Cudpug · Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 7:16 pm Post subject:

''The issue in Garuuz is dire at the moment,'' Gerrante noted as the train continued to zoom along the tracks beneath. It was true that Garuuz was in a state of chaos, and it was correct for Gerrante to voice this. He wasn't particularly concerned with Garuuz - he wasn't Garuuzian and had no loyalties to them. However, he could clearly see the injustice that many Garuuzian's were subject to under Alvastan rule. Ultimately, he merely made an observation when stating that Garuuz was dying, rather than bringing his emotions into the argument. It was unclear whether or not he agreed with Alvasta.

''I have my problems with Alvasta because of Alberich and the Senate as well.'' he said, establishing neutral ground between he and Solomon. ''The little lordling here will hear no rotten word against that bastard.''

''-Do not speak ill of Sir Alberich!'' Roland predictably chirped in, his eyes glaring angrily at Gerrante. ''It is because of him that we are on this train now! It is because of him that Alvasta is the glorious nation it is, peasant!'' He folded his arms, proud of his little outburst, but it was clear that two other people in that carriage - the two eldest - were more knowledgable than the sheltered noble.

''I ain't gonna say why,'' Gerrante said under his breath. ''You wouldn't listen anyhow, kid. But when you eventually find out the kind of guy Sir Alberich is y'all be coming back whining to me.''

There was a brief interlude of silence between those in the carriage. Roland attempted to insult Gerrante, but his verbal attacks could stretch little further than calling Gerrante a 'rogue' and a 'cur'. As the train pulled into the next station there was some sort of commotion outside, and Gerrante could make out loud voices muttering and fussing. He looked up from underneath his hat, peering through a window in the door entering their carriage. He noticed a young girl, no older than nineteen, being followed by several guards. It was only when they entered the carriage where Roland, Solomon and Gerrante were that he got a good look at her features; light pink hair and a slender build, that he recognised who she was. But why would she have been there? With all of the places that one of her status could be it seemed odd that she would have been on the train when they were.

Roland moved and sat closer to Solomon, and Gerrante stood and sat on Solomon's other side, allowing for the girl and her two guards to sit opposite them. They received odd looks from the guards, but the girl herself seemed pleasant enough. She looked at Roland and frowned slightly, as if trying to recognise who he was, but when she didn't call up a fuss Gerrante knew that she hadn't been informed of Roland's 'kidnap'. News at least did not travel that fast.

This girl was Haze Morgan. And as little as her appearance would reveal, she was one of the four Diviners of Alvasta, even at such a young age. Gerrante had never met the girl before, having only seen paintings of her dotted around. In appearance she was more beautiful than ever he had imagined, even at her fair age. She smiled pleasantly at them, and Gerrante noticed Roland's cheeks flash red.

''Heh, sucker...'' he muttered under his breath, looking over his shoulder to stare out into the distance as the train began to start up again. However, he was soon interupted when the girl spoke; her voice elegantly pronounced and proper. ''Good day to you, gentlemen,'' she said softly. ''I am sorry for disturbing your talk. You seemed to be quite involved in your discussion.''

Gerrante looked to Solomon. Could he have recognised who this girl was as well?
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Ranna · Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 8:56 pm Post subject:

Solomon simply nodded nonchalantly. The bow of his head was courteous, and unfazed. He did recognise the girl, or rather, the young woman. He noticed the red blush that had speckled itself across Roland's cheeks and smiled to himself at the thought, before nodding to the guards.

"I wonder what we've done to gain the honour of having a Diviner in our carriage?" Solomon asked, kind but firm. It seemed like she didn't recognise him, though she might very well do in due course. Haze, being a Diviner due to the nature of her aspect abilities - much like the others - had worked with the chief of Aspect Research for some time, seeking the cause and effect aspects had, and how they came to be. Of course, the research was abandoned, due to the researcher, none other than Solomon himself, leaving office.

The blond scholar sat back more comfortably in his seat, though his hands were still on the desk. He watched the two guards sitting either side of the girl, and wondered if they were truly nessacery. She could easily handle herself, even if she did appear like she could hurt a fly.

He indicated to them, before asking their purpose. He explained it was a little cramped with them in the compartment.
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Cudpug · Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 3:31 pm Post subject:

The guards shuffled anxiously in their seats. They did not appreciate Solomon's comment, and were in no mood for the words the scholar was saying. With their armour and their weapons clearly equipped they were dangerous from appearance, but they were hardly likely to cause a fight in the middle of a train journey.

Haze smiled at Solomon, suddenly realising that she and him had crossed paths before. ''Well well,'' she said under her breath, ''it appears that my reputation precedes me. You are wise, teacher.''

Roland's eyes lit up when he came to terms with what was being said. He sat forwards closer to her, clapping his hands together and squealing in joy. ''Y-You are a Diviner?'' he asked happily, his lips forming into a cheery grin. ''That is most spectacular! To think that we are in the presence of Haze Morgan!''

Roland, being educated by birth, knew all about the Diviners. Sir Alberich was his favourite (the Diviners were often spoke of as being heroes of legend), but he was also quite familiar with the other three as well. First there was Haze, the beautiful Aspectress who was known for her vast diplomatic abilities and natural charm. Next was Kael, a young boy who was rarely seen. Ever the Aspectral prodigy, Kael was known as being the most formidable of the Diviners, and even the most terrifying, although he was scarcely seen. The final Diviner was the one that fascinated Roland the most - Relic, an absolute enigma and part of the Ledahnite revival.

He grinned as he watched Haze speaking, her every word elegantly formed upon her cherry lips. ''Why, I wouldn't look so surprised...'' she said, flashing rosy in her cheeks. ''I often use this train. Chances are that you will have seen me before round and about.''

She looked to Solomon after speaking to Roland, her eyes examining him mysteriously. ''I know you, don't I?'' she suddenly asked, stretching a hand out to him. ''Solomon Artisan...well I never. I am the most honoured here - to be in the presence of one so gifted and knowledgable. The pleasure is all mine.'' she lowered her head in a lady-like fashion, her beautiful pink curls framing her tender face.
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Ranna · Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 3:50 pm Post subject:

Solomon waved a hand garishly. "Oh please" he spoke girlishly, though obviously flattered to have been remembered, or at least giving a good impression of being impressed.

"I have to admit, I am quite glad it is you, and not any of the other Enforcers than decided to catch this train. You were always the one I got on most famously with Haze. You seem to have flowered too" he nodded knowingly, noticing Roland looking at her once more, before retracting his gaze to look down at the table. Gerrante, for now, was keeping himself detached from the conversation.

The carriage was quite quiet, except for the gentle talk of the Diviner and the tutor. The guards, Roland and Gerrante all seemed to think better of talking out of turn, something that was surprising coming from the little lordling.

"So, off back to the capital? I'm guessing you heard about Alberich? Terrible, just terrible..." He commented offhandedly, thinking it was better to address the situation now before it was brought up. At least by being sympathetic to the injured Diviners plight, the people of the carriage could be ruled out from immediate suspicion.
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Cudpug · Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 4:04 pm Post subject:

''Alberich was hurt, but not terminally.'' she said seriously, her voice more ordered than anytime before since entering the carriage. ''We are trying to locate the assassin, but it isn't easy. Details I have are few and far between.''

She sighed under her breath, perhaps feeling discouraged from not knowing more. Gerrante looked to Roland, expecting him to condemn Gerrante as the criminal. That would have been disastrous if he did - there was no way the dark character could escape a train surrounded by so many powerful people. He braced himself for the inevitable backlash of Roland, but instead the boy remained silent and strangely compassionate. Instead, the Lordling asked about the events which had occured.

''Sir Alberich is safe?'' he asked, relieved. Haze nodded, smiling, and Roland clapped his hands again. That was the best news he had received since being captured. He looked over to Gerrante, who seemed to be staring at him vehemently with his red eyes, and Roland continued, a slight nervous crackle in his voice.

''So um...what do you know about the situation, Miss?'' Roland questioned, being quite used to speaking with nobility.

''Only that there was some sort of attempt on Alberich's life, and that it failed. Oh, and that the criminal escaped. That is all, unfortunately.''

It was clear that she had not heard of Roland's teleportation, nor of any description matched with the criminal. ''-That is why,'' she went on, ''I am travelling to the Capital city now. Illuminor is in a state of chaos since the attack. It is my duty to restore order...and then I shall speak with Alberich and he can explain to me what happened exactly.''

The guards nodded at her words, finding little to say that had not already been spoken.

''Do you know anything?'' she questioned Solomon suddenly. ''How is it that you know of the assassination attempt, yet you are this far from the Capital? Has news really escaped my ears this far?''
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Ranna · Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 4:49 pm Post subject:

"Why, we were visited by someone bearing the ill news" Solomon replied casually. It would make sense. The Roncevalles had summer homes all over Alvasta, and with the new advances in Aspect travelling, someone could have easily informed them of what had happened. In any case, the pink-haired Diviner nodded pleasantly, seemingly happy with the response she received. No one seemed to ask who the rogue in the corner was however, though it may have been obvious that he was not the sort of person open to conversation.

The landscape whizzed by, and before they knew it, the train was stopping, preparing to pull in at the station. This was their stop, and Solomon got up to step outside, admiring the view as they came to a stand, marvelling the architecture of the station building. Other trains were stationed, or starting up, great puffs of steam billowing out.

The group touched down from the train, and the four people stood around, the two guards standing idlely by, watching for trouble. Solomon now understood why they were here - incase Alberich's attacker was still on the rampage. So ironic that he was closer than either of the soldiers could have guessed.

"It was lovely to see you again Haze" Solomon commented warmly, bowing to her slightly. "Good luck with catching the madman" he added, as if an afterthought.
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Cudpug · Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 5:00 pm Post subject:

Haze gave her tidings to Solomon, and wished both Roland and Gerrante goodbye. The former kissed her hand and blushed like a strawberry. The latter barely said a word. When Haze was out of sight, having been escorted by her personal guards elsewhere, the three of them were left stood alone at the city station. It was a crowded place with citizens and workers darting around performing different tasks - some were adjusting the wheels of the trains and checking them over, others were boarding. There were even a few stalls where products could be purchased. It was interesting to Gerrante that Roland was picking up less of a fuss than he imagined he would have before; he was the sort of spoilt Lordling who would have turned his nose up at anything that wasn't wrapped in velvet and gold. Yet stood there at this point, with the working class clearly bypassing him, he did not comment on them at first.

''We must return to my manor,'' is all he said, hurriedly following Solomon. He wasn't aware of where he was and so relied on Solomon for direction. However, after they had departed from the station area Roland returned to his usual arrogant status.

''That place was disgusting,'' he said to himself as they found themselves inside the city boroughs, the tall terecota buildings towering around them. Above them elevated in the background were the white peaks of the Plaza, home to the upper class, the destination Roland was aiming to reach. As they were now, they were still in 'poor' territory.

''To think that they allow those sort of people to board such grand trains. It is awful!'' he said in a high voice, as if the town itself was enough to undo any sense of moral decency he may have had about him. ''And you!'' he added, pointing an accusing finger back at Gerrante. ''You shall come with me to the Manor and then I shall decide your fate. For attacking Sir Alberich I will imagine you shall be punished severely.''

Gerrante said nothing, but did not try and flee. If he'd wanted to have escaped he could have. Perhaps he had faith in Roland? Or perhaps he wanted to be condemned by the law and executed? Whatever his reason was for staying, he followed Solomon alongside Roland, accepting his badgering the entire way there.

At the great stairway leading up into the Plaza District, Roland quickly located his manor and ran off towards the gates. ''Father will be so pleased to see me!'' he chanted to himself as he ran, forgetting Solomon and Gerrante for that moment. Gerrante laughed under his breath, lowering his head over his eyes further.

''Fun kid,'' he said to Solomon. ''Nice to see how he turned out under your tutoring. I'd expect no less from somebody who abuses Aspects. No consideration for what you might be doing to this world.''
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