| There was a slight tug at Jenya's heartstrings as Kelnai's voice passed through his head. If she was praying for his well-being, there was no time like the present. He grimaced as he dodged another swipe of the Kael'adahn's claws. His golden hair was getting mussed from all this rolling around on the ground. "Blast you!" Jenya shouted at the massive reptile as he regained his feet. He looked for any weak spots in the overlapping scales covering the Beast. Like the Beasts that had carried Dharin, the Seer and himself to the outskirts of Shivralliah four years ago, this Kael'adahn had a hide of earth tones, and eyes that glinted with unnatural intelligence. The Kael'adahn roared as Jenya managed to slice one of its enormous talons off, tilting its head and thrashing its tail as it bellowed to the open sky. The thought occurred to Jenya that if this Beast flailed about much more, the Library - or the ruins that composed it - would very likely be destroyed. Either the Beast would bring it down with its thrashing tail, or it could knock over one of the old torches Jenya had lit and set the whole blaze ablaze. He absolutely loathed the thought of running from this monster, especially when he knew he could bring it down in a short matter of minutes. Then there was the fact that he had spent just under a month scouring this continent - away from his son, and his wife - to find this collection of books, paintings; all sorts of relics from the Old World. Securing his poison coated blade - the only thing he'd kept from his time as a Tracker, other than the scars from old battles and a now barely-perceptible limp in his right leg - in the sheath on his back, he sprung backwards through a series of backflips. The Kael'adahn tilted its massive head, much the way a bird of prey would, and lumbered after him. Its tail swished like a ribbon, taking out one of the pillars that had suported what was left of the roof. Jenya winced as massive blocks of marble crashed to the ground; the Taer'shal were definitely not going to pleased if he destroyed one of their best kept secrets. He ran an extra meter or so to a nearby copse of trees, just in case. The Kael'adahn had a massive tail, after all. He returned the sword to his hands, smiling at the hissing sounds the toxins on the metal produced as they made contact with the night air again. For a reason he had yet to understand, the poisoned weakened when exposed to air too long, so he had done his best to have a sheath fabricated that was close to air-tight. The Kael'adahn paused before him, noting the insane look of menace painted on Jenya's face. The Sun-Chylde grinned, let out a small laugh as the Beast began to roar. Jenya charged forward, his blade held to the side as the distance between himself and the Beast shortened. "Not as smart as I took you for," Jenya chuckled as he rushed past the Kael'adahn, taking care to brace his arm and pull forward with all his might as the sword made contact with the Beast's jaw. Exactly three fangs fell from its mouth, cracked near the root and leaving the monster's mouth very bloody. The poison that covered Jenya's sword might not work against the already toxic blood coursing through the Beast's veins, but the pointy bit was certainly doing its job well enough. The Beast reared up onto its back legs, its wings flaring with the pain that shot through its maw. It held a clawed foot up to the bloodied mouth, the torn lip as if it could pull away the pain with a touch. Jenya, standing behind the Beast cocked his head in curiosity. "I didn't know you guys could really do that." He was slightly disturbed by the fact that this Beast had made such a human gesture, but as the Beast was still rearing in pain Jenya remembered why he was now a few meters away from the Library - to kill this thing. He shrugged, let out a sigh and crouched close to the ground, readying himself to jump onto the Kael'adahn's back. The Beast came back to its senses quickly enough, setting itself down on all fours once more and swinging its head around to look for the tiny being that was causing it so much pain. The second all four clawed feet returned to the earth, Jenya uncoiled himself into the air, still grinning as he landed squarely between the Kael'adahn's wings. Before the Beast had the time to attempt to shake the Sun-Chylde, Jenya had driven his blade into the confused monster's spine. The Beast fell as its legs suddenly just gave way beneath it, roaring in fear at the fact that it no longer felt any pain. Of course it was not dead, it could never have been that easy to kill a Rift Beast. Jenya leapt off of the Kael'adahn's back, smiling grimly at the utter terror in the Beast's intelligent eyes. Jenya pulled two shorter blades from their sheaths on his waist, shorter than his sword but still large enough to be driven through the thick plate-like scales and into the Beast's worthless heart. He strode closer to the Kael'adahn, his eyes clear of pity or apprehension. The rings around his pupils glittered, even in the dark, hundreds of hues of gold. Drawing his arms back he drove the misery blades into the frantic monster's chest. Jenya's lips quirked in a combination of menace and satisfaction as the Kael'adahn let out a long wail that only gradually faded from the night. It took some effort to free the blades from the monsters chest; Jenya finally had to grip the hilts as tight as he could, place a foot against the thick plating and jerk backwards. It took several minutes of hopping around on the dead Beast's back, yanking at the hilt to get it loose, a fairly comical sight it must have been, Jenya admitted to himself. Dharin probably would have enjoyed it, the Sun-Chylde thought sadly, hopping off of the back of the Kael'adahn. "Yuck," he made a gutteral sound in his throat as he looked for something with which to clean his blades. The best he could manage were some branches off of the trees the Kael'adahn had knocked over before it was paralyzed. With his misery blades cleaned and back in their proper places at his sides, he began walking carefully back towards the ruins of the Library. Chunks of what had been the ceiling moments ago lay where they had fallen, and the inscription - a welcome carved in Kaer'melthek by the Children who had opened this place - was no longer discernible. The Taer'shal were so definitely not going to be happy with this. Of course, Jenya reasoned with himself, he didn't have to return to their camps away from Talrek Cerdai once he found what he was looking for. Then there was the fact that such an action could be construed as running away - something many people did when faced with Kashan's wrath - and Jenya did not run. Re-positioning himself so that the Beast did not destroy the Library was the closest thing he'd done to running away since he'd used the Rite of Ahless Maurae, and left his two best friends to die. Such happy memories, with the Cleansers. They say wisdom comes with age, but as Jenya saw it he didn't trust them and thought they were idiots. Wisdom came with pain and betrayal, and was only there just after you needed it. That was how this world worked, and the proof of it was that now his best friend - the man he had known literally all of his life - and one of only two women he had ever taken orders from were dead, the crystallized shells of their bodies were now just another decoration in the graveyard of Magi. Inside the Library, sword held at the ready just in case another of the Acharya's pets showed up, he began perusing the rotting shelves arranged haphazardly throughout what had once been an enormous building. People from the Old World had had so many names, he marvelled, looking for anything that might contain secrets about the Acharya. Only a few of the hundreds upon hundreds of names caught his eye, and he murmured as he read the names on each shelf. "Arnold... Blake... Carroll... Donne. Done with what?" Jenya shook his head at all the different languages the titles were in. None of them made any sense at all. "Frost... Hardy... Herbert... Hopkins... Keats... Koontz... Milton." he snickered. "Milton..." His humor faded quickly enough as an hour, then two, then several had dragged on, and still he found nothing. He was still reading names. "Shelley... Blech! Who would name a child Percy? Tennyson... Williams... Yeats." He was nearing the end of the last shelf, empty handed and frustration began to build. He had spent a year off and on searching the great libraries of Sharan'akar for anything pertaining to the Acharya, his Magi, the Rift - anything at all that was not complete and utter fantasy. The same words were waiting for him in every book he opened: "The Acharya closed the Rift, and is now the protector, the Great Teacher of this world." In one book he opened, he found "The gods of the Old World have died, and Acharya is their living replacement, here to assure the people and guide with hope." Jenya had spat on the pages, and begun tearing them apart, getting himself banned from the Great Library, and the city, of Morantfel. And time dragged on, as it always had, as it always would, leaving the Sun-Chylde standing helpless and hopeless in what was supposed to be the last storehouse of great knowledge. Dawn was advancing quickly, casting its pale light over the paintings that hung on every wall. The only thing Jenya had found that was remotely helpful was a small collection of a few pages bound with string, written entirely in Kaer'melthek. While he understood some in conversation, Jenya could decipher absolutely none of the strange characters scribed on the small pages. He threw his sword down in anger, shoving the booklet into the satchel he had left by one of the shelves. His eyes slid over the useless paintings - beautiful, but not helpful in the least - and up to the skies, to where a few stars still clung to the places in the sky. His fists clenched as he glared up at the empty heavens that always seemed to mock him, reminding him how alone he was in this wrong world. "Gods blast you, stars," he snarled through gritted teeth. "You worthless, empty skies! What more do you want from me? You have claimed nearly everything I've held dear! Blast you all," he groaned, falling to his knees. Long ago, or so it seemed, he had made himself forget how to weep, how to pity. Listening to the Seer gag on her own blood as she was Silenced, he had sworn to find a way to make the world right, but it resisted. And those great symbols of hope and destiny twinkled on nonetheless, as children died and more and more people lost their way in the world. Jenya was becoming tired of pushing against the will of fate, against those apathetic stars; struggling to change a world that was slowly crushing him. His lifetime had been filled with conflict, and he had nearly nothing to show for it, save a woman he could not admit to loving - because love had killed Dharin and once you've said something like that, there is no taking it back and if they die there is no undoing the hurt - and a son that seemed plotting to slay him. "I give up..." Jenya closed his eyes and let his chin rest on his chest. "I - give - up!!" His screams echoed through the ruins. "You win, damn you! This world is yours, blasted bodies." Sitting on his feet he wrapped his arms around himself, rocking as those three words became as a mantra of despair. "I give up, I give up..." He realized that he was welcoming the end of the world, and was trying to convince himself that he did not really care. He would go home to Varikelle, to Kelnai and the son that wanted him dead, and let the Acharya do as he would, whatever that turned out to be. "Paaaatience.." A tiny voice bounced off of the pillars, echoes reverberating louder than the word itself. It sounded as if the word had been formed as a breath was taken in. "What now?" Jenya jumped to stand before he'd finished speaking. He retrieved his sword from where it had landed, held it at a slant as he remembered the Kael'adahn he had left dead by the entrance. Maybe once if its brethren had smelled the blood, but he didn't remember them speaking... His eyes darted around the ruins, to the back first since that was where the voice seemed to originate. "A sword..." The disembodied whisper sounded as if it were smiling, if a voice could smile. "You are not really giving up." The sound came from the entrance now, and Jenya turned to face it, bringing his free hand up to shield his eyes against the brilliance before him. "I am," he spat bitterly, defiantly. "I give up on changing this world," Jenya proclaimed. "For all my struggles I have accomplished nothing!" The light before him dimmed, and pulsated. It felt familiar as it compressed, gathering itself into a slightly human form. "One heart alone can not change the world, and not just in four short years," it shook its head. "What in Sharan'akar are you?" Jenya breathed, placated by the calm that seeped from the being's voice. "I am the Coranavayel..." The echoes barely rose above a whisper now. Though the being had formed a mouth, the lips did not move. The voice was sweet, sorrowful and raspy. Jenya only blinked, much the way he had when Seer mentioned beings or Rites he had never heard of. "The what now?" "The Ultimate Light, Sun-Chylde. There was a time when you would not have had to ask, when your allegiance would have already been sworn to me before your heart had even formed. Alas, such times are past." The sound of a smile did not fade. "I am the being your ancestors served before the Torankhayel destroyed hope and faith in this world. This world," it murmured sadly, "unlike the others, fell so easily..." The echoes became more doleful as the being spread its hands in a gesture somewhat like a shrug. "Others." "There are as many worlds - planes, realities; title them as you will - as there are stars in your 'empty skies.' But this is not the time for that story..." Urgency crept into the Coranavayel's whisper. "This is the time for you to return to your lover, and your son. Protect them from what is coming, as only a father and a husband can." "What is coming?" Jenya demanded, a slight note of panic crept into his voice as the being began to dim. "The Sun is due to be reborn; take care that it does not burn this world to a cinder." With that, the Coranavayel was gone, and Jenya noticed that the stone beneath where it had stood cracked to reveal part of a wooden trapdoor. Jenya's search was far from over. |