| Less than ten minutes passed between Felanya's Call and the arrival of the four scaled monstrosities. The smallest measured nearly five meters from the tip of its gore-caked snout to the end of its tail, two and a half meters from the edge of its talons to the top of its head, and six meters from wing tip to wing tip. Intelligence sparkled in the eyes of the Rift Beasts, Kael'adahn as Felanya said this species had been named. Her brief explanation of the origins of these winged serpents raised so many questions in Jenya's mind, the most important being: Why were there enough in the world to be called a species? Each Kael'adahn bent its blood-stained maw to nuzzle the hands of Corridan, Lyahr, Dalnek and Felanya. Varesh kept his distance from the Beasts after the largest Kael'adahn, a female, began gnashing her massive fangs in his direction. Dalnek smiled for an instant then began pairing off the Cleansers. "Mount up," he ordered, waving his hand about imperiously. "Corridan and Jenya," he pointed to a massive brown spotted male, the second largest Beast of the group. "Varesh and Dharin," Dalnek motioned to the smallest of the four, a male with a mottled deep green hide and eyes so brown they neared black. "Lyahr and the Seer," another male, brown with flecks of black looked at the two Magi and seemed to nod. "Felanya and I take the lead." "Thaeralayen," Felanya commanded, and each Beast bent down. She and Dalnek mounted the leader of the four; Dalnek knew where they were going and Felanya could order the beast to take them there. Where the massive Kael'adahn led, the other three, hatchlings from her brood would always follow without fail. Jenya's inconsistently purple restraints dissipated, replaced by an obsidian vice of Corridan's making. He was secured in front of Corridan, and remained completely silent. His yellow eyes were alight with rage - directed towards his captors for using his son to fool him, at himself for falling for it, at his captors again for moving so quickly, and finally at the world for operating so chaotically. Mal'aran said absolutely nothing, silenced by the anguish running rampant through her nervous system. Had she listened to the concerns of her friends and allowed herself to sleep, she might have mustered the presence of mind to speak and shed the energies that held her, tortured her. As it was, she had effectually incapacitated herself - her mind would not process any of the information thrown at her. All she could do was weep. Dharin was beginning to allow his mind to shut down. Too much, Jenya had said, and he was right. This world was too much, and it made him tired. Because of the Acharya and this world's infantile wars, Dharin was losing everything. His parents, his friends, his mind and his will to hang on to any of it... all seemed to have slipped away when he was not watching. The woman he loved was sinking into a deep catatonic state, her cheeks sunken and shimmering, coated by thick opal tears. His best friend looked like a completely different person, his visage contorted by seething hatred. There were no explanations; no justification for their captivity, no way to tell if these weary-eyed Magi were acting completely on their own or by orders of the Acharya and Dharin was too tired to consider any other possibilities. This world, its factions, their living gods and the wars of those gods - they all made him so very tired. He slipped into himself, into the comforting blackness of abyssal inaction. He did not notice when Varesh lifted him to the back of the Kael'adahn, did not care when the winged serpents leapt into flight. He did not feel Varesh's punches, did not hear the terrible threats - and promises - that poured from the bony Mage. He closed his eyes, allowed his head to rest on his chest, and let go of the world. The Kael'adahn flew smoothly, their lithe forms maneuvering easily through low clouds and cold air pockets. The journey that would have taken a day and a half on foot took the Kael'adahn half of an hour. The icy breeze eased the minds of the conscious Magi, and could almost erase the apprehension in the back of Lyahr's consciousness. Something made him uneasy; a something that was not quite as it should be but he could neither place nor remember what that something might be. He admitted to himself how little he actually could remember, and doubted his companions could recall much more. Sporadically he "saw" images that felt old; visions of himself surrounded by people that looked... normal. He vaguely recalled spending time with people that had to have been friends - a tall, blonde smart aleck; a barely sane redhead and others whose features blurred into a mass of beings which he could not recognize, whom he would not remember. A deep sadness attached itself to a particular memory: an image of darkness and blood, and he was surrounded by bodies of people he felt connected to. There was a cavern, the ceiling sparkled and there was a scream... but above all, there was a desperate sadness, which Lyahr could not understand. Dalnek and Felanya spoke briefly about the actions they would take once nearer to Shivralliah then fell silent. The Kael'adahn were heading in a straight path towards the market city, so there was no need for Felanya to speak commands for redirection. Other than orders and strategy, there was nothing to say. But both felt that perhaps there should have been - long ago there might have been - more to say. |