City of IF

[Novelest_Ninjagirl]

My first thoughts are on the looseness of the definition of king. I find myself wondering if he is one by blood, a long line of great men who ruled over something. If so, what? Or perhaps it is a title recently won, through some of that great magic of his. Maybe he doesn't even have land or people. Maybe he once did, but now all that remains is a few scattered followers. I'm definitely going to be rolling that thought around in my head for a while. Can't wait to learn more!

As for the dp, I'm thinking the plan should involve getting to the tree tops himself, to see if he can't spot the direction that they went.

[Novelest_Ninjagirl]

Commenting to try and draw notice to this- surely I can't be the only one who's going to vote in the poll?

[Wellspring]

Hey, everyone! So sorry this took so long! I've been busy and I lost a bit of my inspiration so that didn't help either.

For some reason, the poll only let NoNi vote and she voted that Cyphrus climb a tree. I've put that as the main response but I tried to integrate the other requests. Enjoy!
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Chapter 8

“Well,” he said. “We’ll have to track her.”

“Yes, but how?”

“I’ll climb a tree,” Cyphrus tried masking his uncertainty. “That should give us some idea.”

Zyveira looked doubtful. “And if it doesn’t?”

He sighed, exasperated. “Just cut the damn vines.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Muck. Dirty, invasive muck everywhere. She thought that by now, she should be used to the crushing weight and thick, dark pallor, but she wasn’t. It still surprised her sometimes and she grew tired with each passing day.

The torches and their flickering, golden fire reminded her once more that she was stuck underground. How long had it been since she saw the sun and breathed the fresh air? How long since she smelled something other than her own filth and the filth of others? How long since she heard the sounds of nature instead of the sounds of groans and mechanical clunking of heavy machines?

She knew not and thirsted for something else. Even a small flower would taste like freedom. A fresh breeze would make her weep.

“Hey! 27! No slacking!”

27 braced herself and suddenly picked up her digging efforts, not wanting the supervisor to beat her. She already had her fair share of that yesterday. The welts were still raw on her back and the blood crusted on her lips. Washing oneself was nearly impossible at this rate.

“Do you need help?” 54 whispered close to her, his eyes solemn with worry. “You musn’t fall behind.”

She shook her head carefully. When 54 had first come, he did not speak common and had struggled with it everyday. He hailed from the far north, where Ju’skara was the primary language - it was so isolated that few spoke it. Either by luck or coincidence, 27 knew it from a distant life. Her knowledge reached so far back that she had almost forgotten how old she was. She knew many things in the stars, histories of the peoples, and tongues of the Earth, but she had long forgotten her name. Sometimes it whispered in her mind, trying to come forward, but before she could understand it, it scurried away and 27 felt it slip even further back.

“Don’t forget your name,” she had whispered to 54. “Hold onto it. Here, it is your most precious possession. Keep it close.”

54 had heeded her desire but kept his name close. Uttering it might be certain death.

“I am fine. Thank you,” she responded in his quiet language.

He could not hide his concern, but he nodded nonetheless, his dark eyes reflecting the golden light around them.

27 never quite knew why they dug so frequently, for they never seemed to go anywhere or find anything, but it was what the Master wanted. She had never seen him herself - he seemed to be some vague creator and destroyer with a penchant for torture.

She hoped she never found out.

27 dug fervently and looked at the muck on her fingers. If 54 still had his hair, it would be the same color, but he, just like everyone else, had been shaved bald and now he only had vague hints of it on his head. 27 would have forgotten her hair color if not for the gold around them. When she had been free outside of these walls, it had been a brilliant yellow, lighter than the fire, golden as the sun.

She clung to the memory for a passing moment before glancing at 54.

“Would you like more stories tonight?” Her voice was curious, but cautiously quiet at the same time.

54 couldn’t hide his eagerness. “Of course! The others and I love it. I want to hear more of the dragon and the witch.”

27 smiled and remembered the one thing that made her happy in this dreadful pit - her stories kept the others alive and her soul still sang when she relayed them with whispering passion and eager energy.

“Very well,” she suddenly fell silent as the supervisor passed close to them. “Tonight, you’ll hear more of their adventures and of hope. It’s something we all need.”

~*~*~*~

Cyphrus stretched and sighed. Zyveira glanced at him cautiously.

“Well?” She said impatiently

Cyphrus suppressed a glare and simply gazed at the tree tops.

“I suppose...I’ll have to climb up there and take a look around.”

Zyveira crossed her arms and cocked her head, her displeasure painfully obvious. “And what will you see? Do you really think she is stupid enough to just leave a trail like that?”

“Do you have a better idea?” He snapped at her and put on his satchel securely before testing a branch of the closest tree. Her silence spoke volumes and Cyphrus simply headed up the tree without further comment.

Climbing was more annoying than he remembered and several minutes and scratches later, he found himself at the top of the tree, panting and curious. The sun shone brilliantly and illuminated the canopy before him. The green contrasted wonderfully with the sky and fresh, delicate air filled his nostrils. Up here, a tentative silence reigned - not even the birds overhead spoke. Yet, the quiet hung comfortably in the air and lacked oddity.

If he had not been so focused on finding Dario, he might have enjoyed it more. At first, he saw nothing at all. The only movement came from the rustling of the trees until his keen eyes saw it.

A distinct line formed as something, probably the woman from before, moved determinedly in one direction. From the looks of it, they moved southwest at an incredible speed. It would take some time to reach them. However, he knew that if they changed course, he would lose them. He had only one option.

Cyphrus took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He delved deep into his mind and felt for his magic. He hadn’t dared to use it once it was contaminated. But now, perhaps he would be able to create a very basic tracking spell. A faint flicker of familiarity greeted him and he sighed softly in relief. Magic still dwelled within him.

Slowly, it overtook him. The colors swirled in his subconscious and distant voices called to him, beckoning him further and further into himself. Cyphrus started to pull back in alarm - this was dangerous. He couldn’t be here. Many a mage lost themselves completely in the grip of magic and never recovered. He didn’t wish to suffer such a fate.

The harder he pulled away, the tighter its grip became.

“Stay,” it whispered, tempting him. “You’ll be safe here, Cyphrus. You needn’t worry anymore.”

“No,” he whimpered back. “No. Dario needs me.”

It responded with a tight hiss and darkness exploded within him.

“The powerful one is not a friend!” It shrieked angrily. “His magic is poison to us!”

Cyphrus gasped and pulled, shocked and confused and -

“Cyphrus!”

A slap brought him around and he looked hazily up at Zyveira.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She demanded and dropped him roughly. She had been holding him by his collar and his head hit the ground roughly. She glanced at him with her keen blue eyes and grumbled. “...are you all right?”

Cyphrus took a few gasping breaths and tested his body and mind. From the sore muscles, he assumed he had fallen, and from his sore mind, he assumed his magic had retreated again. Perhaps it was for the best. He obviously couldn’t manage it right now.

“Y-yes,” he breathed out and coughed, clearing his lungs.

“That was a good fall,” she pointed out.

Cyphrus scowled a bit. It was a rather useless comment, but, then again, most of her talking seemed useless. He shook the thoughts away and sat up.

“Southwest.”

“What?” She asked and offered a hand. Cyphrus still felt defiant and simply stood without assistance.

“We head southwest.”

Zyveira eyed. “Are you sure?”

He frowned. “No. But it’s all we have. Come.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything echoed joy and thrill. Everything laughed and quietly spoke of things that were, that are, and that would come.

Everything but...him.

The king had not yet woken, despite Ezstyr’s best efforts. She had bound his wound, set him gently in the halls of his fathers, and waited.

Two hours of time had passed and now the forest groaned with worry.

“The king is hurt,” The trees mourned.

“Fix him,” The streams demanded.

“Make it right,” The vines wept.

We will perish without him. Save him.

Ezstyr's eyes stung in frustration and she blinked away the voices. Abruptly, she stood in frustration and hissed to herself that the one who hurt him would pay. She would stretch the arrogant elf on a rack and splatter her across the earth.

But no. The king needed help first. She must do something.

But she spoke not the language of the strangers.

Ezstyr looked at Dario and his pale pallor. She bit her lip in indecision.

An empire hung in the balance.

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Well, fellas, what do we think?

[Novelest_Ninjagirl]

Before I get into the actual story, which was lovely, I did notice one thing,

Quote: She thought that by now, she should be used to the crushing weight and thick, dark parlor, but she wasn’t.

Is that supposed to be pallor? I'm not sure, but either way, it didn't quite seem like parlor fit.

Loving the fact that with each chapter we seem to very gradually and very naturally be introduced to more perspectives! In the beginning, I believed this to be Cyphrus' tale. The longer it goes on, though, the more it seems we're watching a much larger, farther reaching story take place. I can't wait to see more of 27, or of Zyveira, or Dario, or Ezstyr! Heck, even 53 intrigues me. The characters are a lovely balance of intriguing and mysterious without coming off so vague as to be annoying.

As for the dp, if I were Ezstyr, I'd find someone I could trust to watch Dario, and possibly go after 'the elf' that wounded them. The elf might have an idea of why Dario is being so affected, and how to help him.

[Seraphi]

Ooooh my gosh, so glad to see another chapter! Another AWESOME chapter!

I'm loving all the characters, new and old. Are 27 and 54 part of the Cyphrus/Dario/etc timeline or are they past/future entities? What part do they play? Aaaaah, it's so very exciting! This is expanding into quite the epic and I am very eager to see where it goes :3

For the dp...maybe there is someone Ezystr can send to go after the elf (Zyveira, right?) in her place while she watches over Dario? OR because she has some power over the forest, as we've seen with the vines, she can "summon" them to do her bidding and bring Zyveira to her?

[Andolyn]

I love it, I love it, I love it!!!

The introduction of the new characters brings a whole slew of new questions that I'm eager to have answered. I'm loving the tension between Cyphrus and Zyveira. At this point, I dislike her, but that's most likely prejudiced on the fact that she tried to kill Dario. As a character, I see potential in her. haha! I'm just hissy. I'll go sit and stew on her potential pain with Ezstyr. XD

I think Ezstyr should go get them. It wouldn't take long with her abilities, and it would be the most direct way.

[scribe siren]

Hi there. Prologue was great . I'll get to your last chapter soon.
So Cyphrus is a God as I took note. And this young girl was rather a surprise. Dark magic attracting blood letters..... I want to read about one soon. -- was a comment on prologue. I'll edit and vote soon.... hopefully

[Wellspring]

First, thanks for all of the comments! I really appreciate them and they add fuel to my writing. Thank you - they are an encouragement! I hope you guys continue to like this stuff.

Here it is. :) Have fun!

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Chapter 9

“Let us help.”

Ezstyr looked at the surrounding plants and smiled. They always wanted to help and now was no different.

Carefully, she wove a wall of precious plants and vines around him, encasing him just enough for light movement. No one would see him now. If she had a way of masking his loud, uneven breathing, she would do so, but unfortunately, none existed and she would have to put her faith in pure luck - not something she did lightly.

"Watch him," she said to the powerful forest, the living organism that was it. "Keep him safe.

Ezstyr shook herself, her black, wavy hair swaying gently. She wanted to explore her doubt and hesitancy, but now was not the time. She had many things to tell the king and many things for which to ask forgiveness. He must wake.

The guardian took a deep breath and prepared to propel herself once more. Her tattoos glowed with fierce pale magic and determination.

Now to beat some sense into an elf.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Quiet mornings, a rare commodity, suited him. The still flowers, the soft echoes and clanks, and the scent of hard, fine coffee always seemed to refresh him. He wished he had more to himself, but the older he got, the less he seemed able to have. This, to him, was a travesty, but he would never be caught complaining. They were a simply thing to surrender for the sake of peace and his people.

Of course, he could always wake earlier, but the idea of waking up in the sleepy cold, dark nearly sickened him and he had to be content simply with rising just when the sun started to paint the sky. This morning he had wandered from his bedchambers into the kitchen, his feet comfortably cold against the gray stone floor.

Coffee beckoned him and he hurried to the kitchen, skillfully following his nose. However, he didn’t intrude immediately, but hung back instead and, with an air of fascination, watched the staff work. In all of his privileged life, he had never worked a single day as a servant and found their whole routine to be interesting. One day, when he was a curious, small child, he had cleverly disguised himself and tried to work alongside them, but his father had quickly found out and pulled him from their ranks.

He never forgot the bitter disappointment and curiosity.

Now, of course, that his father was dead, the whole well-being of the province fell on his shoulders and he could not afford luxuries like curiosity. Instead, his duty belonged elsewhere - to make sure others had such a luxury.

He inhaled the scent of the bread, honey, and milk and watched the roaring fire and the nervous hurriedness of the servants.

“Quickly, now,” Geridena urged. “The master will be up soon and he’ll be wanting his coffee and bread. Hurney, watch those eggs! We aren’t serving charcoal around here. Jessi, come now, does that look like properly cooked bacon? My word, I’ve never seen something so pink.” She said ‘pink’ as if it was the gravest offense against mankind.

As the faithful, old, thin woman moved about, it seemed that no matter where she went, a chorus of “yes, ma’am” followed her. He reflected for a moment that she somehow managed to command just as much - if not more - respect as him. It was truly something to behold.

A startled gasp summoned him from his thoughts.

“My lord Eeevahn!” Geridena bowed lowly and the other servants stared for a few long moments before remembering themselves and hurrying back to work. “Forgive me! I hadn’t any idea you needed breakfast early. I’ll send it up to you immediately.”

Lord Eeevahn shook his head. “No, Geridena. It’s not necessary. The usual time will do… But might I trouble you for a bit of coffee?” He asked with a smile.

“Of course, my lord.”

She promptly handed him a steaming cup and he left without getting cream - partly because he fancied it black this morning and partly because he wanted to leave before the servants broke more things in their anxiety.

He sighed as he wandered back to his room, dreading the empty, chilled bed.

For weeks, he had stayed up late, retracing her footsteps over and over again, trying to make some sense of any and all possibilities for her disappearance. He had found early on that his wife hadn’t been taken for ransom, and she most certainly hadn’t simply run-off. Mariah was hardly capable of such a thing and he knew she loved him too much to subjugate him to such worry.

Gods, he hoped she loved him too much.

By now, six months later, it was perhaps his duty to re-marry and start a family, but he refused to believe she wasn’t coming back. In this, he was selfish and cared little about proper duties and formalities. He wanted a family with her, not with anyone else.

He wanted children with her blue eyes and his dark hair. He wanted daughters with her stunning golden mane and his quiet brown eyes. He wanted laughter and joy with her and any other woman be damned.

The captain of the guard finally had forbidden him from leaving the walls past ten, so he had taken to looking at maps of all kinds and writing down possibility after possibility, usually late into the night.

Last night had been no different, but he had risen early, trying to shake dreams of her.

“My lord,” The good captain came up suddenly beside him and Mariah evaporated from his thoughts. “I must demand that you refrain from leaving your bedchambers so early. It isn’t good for the poor hearts of my guards - and it was a bit of a rude awakening for me this morning.”

Lord Eeevahn sighed. “Justin, my apologies, but I needed a bit of...alone time.”

The short woman nodded and, despite their dramatic height difference, somehow managed to keep pace with him. “I know, my lord, that is why you do have alone time - it’s simply just scheduled.”

He tried to mask another sigh and failed miserably. “I know. I’ll be more thoughtful next time.”

Justin paused and vaguely bit her lip. “My lord? We’ll find her.”

It was, perhaps, only his rigid training that prevented him from scowling at her. “You keep saying that.” The accusation was hardly concealed.
She stiffened and gripped her sword handle absently.

“My...apologies,” she said after a strained silence. “I’ll double my efforts, Lord Eeevahn.”

He felt guilty after he noted the palpable tension. “I’m sorry, Justin. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just...tired.”

She exhaled and nodded, the tension melting. “Of course, my lord. Think nothing of it.”

His bedchambers were particularly stifling that morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Zyveira followed Cyphrus closely, almost afraid of losing him. Something about his mannerisms told her that he wanted to be simply done with her and leave her where she stood. She didn’t want that at all - she wanted to be there when they found Dario again. He was her bounty and she needed to bring him back to court.

His behavior puzzled her for sure, but she didn’t want to falter from her path, regardless of how he treated her. As the Black Sparrow, her duty was to her people first, and others second. After all, Dario had been right when he pointed out the recentness of her newly acquired post. She wanted - needed - to prove that she was perfectly capable and worthy of her station; that her appointing hadn’t been in vain; and that she could, and would, do this.

For some reason, she never quite knew if it was for herself or her duty for which she was determined to prove herself.

“...how the hell am I supposed to track someone who uses trees?” Cyphrus grumbled to himself.

Zyveira sighed. “I don’t know. You said southwest, so that’s where we’re headed.”

He scowled. “I know that. I just don’t know how far we need to go.”

Zyveira suddenly felt a chill. His anger reminded her of his all-consuming soul and fire. That was...unpleasant and unlike anything she had ever experienced. It had been water and fire and wrath and apathy all at once. She certainly didn’t want to anger him again.

So how, then, was she to capture Dario?

“Elf,” His tone was exceptionally condescending. “What do you suggest? You are the Black Sparrow after all.”

For some reason, when he now referred to her rank, he wasn’t condescending at all. He genuinely wanted her help.

“I...would look at the trees. Perhaps there are broken - ”

“She’s coming,” he interrupted her and drew his sword, practically hissing with wrath.

Instantly, Zyveira readied an arrow and stood behind him.

“What direction?”

“South.” Cyphrus glanced around keenly. “Brace yourself - she’s moving fast.”

Like a hurricane of green and white, she came forth and landed in front of them. Before the stranger could balance herself, Zyveira had fired three shots, each of which had been deflected. Cyphrus rushed forward, and the stranger easily dodged with a laugh, the sound strikingly similar to Dario’s. Cyphrus stumbled on nothing and suddenly seemed unable to move properly, some magic swirling about him.

Zyveira aimed carefully once more and let her arrow fly. Quickly, she aimed another. It was time to retaliate.
----
[color=darkred]
All right - what next? Should they keep fighting or what? =D

What do you guys think?

[Andolyn]

AMAZING as always. <3

I think they should chill. She's obviously the most powerful in the trio. This likely won't end well if they anger her.

I loved Eeevahn. His way with the servants was wonderful. <3 I'm really loving the dynamic between Cyphrus and "the elf." She's annoying as heck, but that dynamic wouldn't be there without that aspect of her, so I still appreciate it. haha!

[Seraphi]

Aaawwww yeah! Another chapter and another new set of characters!

You are great at creating very interesting dynamics between characters. Eeevahn and his servants/guards, Cyphrus and Zyveira. Loving it.

For the dp...I'm going to agree with Andy. All their attacks are being deflected, and, unless Cyphrus wants to attempt to use his magic and deal with the consequences that may come there, it would probably be best if they slowed their roll (but definitely keep up the defenses, she seems a bit unpredictable, haha).

[Novelest_Ninjagirl]

Just a few nitpics I stumbled on, most of them are my own opinion, but then, isn't the pursuit of the opinions of others why we come to if? ^^

Quote: "Watch him," she said to the powerful forest, the living organism that was it.

Completely personal preference, but I feel like it might flow a bit better as 'that it was'.

I'm intrigued by this lord and his missing wife, though it feels a bit confusing to be adding yet more characters. I'll trust you have confidence in the pacing for now, though. (Considering my own sg is nearing the 20th chapter without ANY added characters. whoops.)


Quote: Before the stranger could balance herself, Zyveira had fired three shots, each of which had been deflected. Cyphrus rushed forward, and the stranger easily dodged with a laugh, the sound strikingly similar to Dario’s

I might be wrong, but this is from Zyveira's perspective, right? Has she had a chance to hear his laugh, to compare it to this womans?

Now, for the dp. Honestly, my opinion is, seeing as the woman has spirited Dario away and if they kill her they'll never find him, they should fight- but with the intend to subdue, not to kill.