The Gaze of Eternity

[Wyvern]

Quickly finishing the last of his oat meal and setting his empty bowl by his side, Y'Tren clears his throat, turns to the other adventurers, and declares:

 

"We certainly won't have any time for gathering fruit or hunting game... I think we should hurry up with our breakfast and set out immediatly in search of the Pool. Something about this island doesn't seem right to me... it just seems impossible that such a large land mass could remain hidden for so long. The sooner we find the Pool, the better..."

 

Having said this, Y'Tren turns to the vast area of forest that seems to stretch endlessly in front of the camp, and continues:

 

"If I recall my readings correctly, the Pool of Eternal Reflection is supposed to be located near the center of this isle, in the first religious temple ever constructed by man. Thus we should head deeper into the forest... Unless we have some form of navigation or trail markers, however, we'll certainly get lost."

 

Y'Tren turns to the other adventurers once again:

 

"Any ideas on what we might be able to use for trail markers? I, for one, have a compass, which might be able to help in locating the center of the isle..."

[Gwaihir]

"So you're just planning to waltz off onto an island that you don't know anything about? You even say it feels wrong and you still just want to waltz off into the middle of it?" Myth looked up at Y'Tren very skeptically.

 

He paused for a moment and looked at her "Do you have any better suggestions?"

 

Gyrfalcon looked up and nodded "We came here to explore this island, and find the pool, what else can we do?"

 

Myth shrugged "I know this isn't natural ranger habit, but I want to split up. As an assassin I can tell you that large groups attract a hell of a lot more attention than small ones. If there is something not-right, and I sort of feel that way too, then I don't want to be in a large group. I'll go alone or with Y'Tren. We can all meet in the middle."

[Yui-chan]

Kaleyra regarded Myth with a slight frown, clutching her pack to her chest uncertainly. "... um.... but we're only five as it stands. Surely, it would be safer to stay together..." Her glance traveled to the others hesitantly. "Would it not?"

[Wyvern]

Y'Tren carefully considers the words of Myth and Kaleyra, rubbing his grey haired chin in contemplation while staring at the ground. After a long moment of silence, the venerable adventurer turns his head to his fellow companions and speaks up once again:

 

"Perhaps you two are both right... Myth's request is reasonable, as it's true that we know very little about the cartography of the island and thus might easily get lost and spend an enormous amount of time searching for the temple unless we split into smaller groups. At the same time, however, Kaleyra is also correct... it would certainly be safer to stick together, particularly if we sense something not right about the island..."

 

Y'Tren thinks for a long moment, than continues:

 

"I have a proposition that I think may solve both of these problems. What if we were to skirmish the island in smaller groups today to get a general sense of the cartography of the island, then meet back here at the encampment in the evening and exchange our findings. The next day, based on the information that we have, we could go as one group to seek the temple."

 

Y'Tren grins to himself after having stated his potential plan and turns inquistively towards the other adventurers for their thoughts on this.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon nodded slowly as he considered the plan. “It’s a good idea, but is there some way we can signal the other group should we run into trouble, or on some random chance, the Pool? After all, I doubt the other group would be all too pleased to miss out on viewing the pool.”

 

Y’Tren nodded and glanced at the still sleeping Timothy- obviously, he’d have to adjust to the decisions made by his less sleepy companions.

 

“I assume that I will go with Myth here. That will leave you, Gyrfalcon, and you Kaleyra, with Timothy. Is that acceptable?” Y’Tren inquired.

 

“It is.” the half-elf replied.

[Gwaihir]

Myth waved her hands in a gesture of unconcern. "

 

You're a mage, and one who uses fire, if you all get in trouble you can send up a signal to us. I have matches to burn things if we managed to get lost, and I don't plan to get caught it'll work."

 

"How do you know..." Gyrfalcon began, but Myth got up and began packing things up. "It was clear that she was determined, and he figured that enough of the details were probably worked out.

 

Meanwhile, Myth began speaking again, on a less disputable matter

"We can't leave our campsite here, someone or something could get into it. Let's stow anything important and get going!"

 

She gathered the dishes, and dumped them in front of the scholar. "You do these." Kaylera, however was lost in thought, so she didn't seem to notice the rather peremtory command, probably just as well.

 

As soon as most of what was vital to the expedition, that Myth worried could be taken or destroyed, was packed up, she beckoned Y'Tren over. Let's go now, I don't feel like cleaning up more, they can do it. Y'Tren shrugged, he wasn't worried about the stuff, and probably a bit lazier, he didn't feel like working anyway. It wasn't as if he'd been cleaning up--just sitting on the ground finishing his oatmeal and watching.

Gyrfalcon watched the two walk off, not completely pleased with their suddenness, but no matter.

 

Myth stayed silent for a while as they shoved their way through an old growth forest. There were vines everywhere, and they were always falling down, knocked into ones face, after one moved the vines that were underneath them, so it was bit hectic for chatting. They walked and fought the undergrowth (and over growth) for quite a while. Though neither of them had a watch, both began to get hungry, and out of patience with this hike--t'was easier walking in the cities they were used to.

 

And then things got odd, for there, in front of the two was a path. How, why or whose? Myth looked at Y'Tren, and he looked back "What the heck is this, and who or what made this?" he asked

 

Myth leaned against a tree and looked at him "There's something else I wanted to bring up with you--If we can find this today, then we'll know where it is before the others do...first sight, first rights,a nd easy control of the Pool. The creature or person who made this path knows something, I'm sayign we follow it deeper into the island."

She looked at him for a response.

[Ozymandias]

Minutes passed, slipping already into their second hour since Myth and Y'Tren had left, yet Timothy still had not stirred.

 

The silence had at first been awkward, but after some time, Gyrfalcon reasserted his belief in their quest.

 

"We've come this far," said he, jaw set with the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, "No force on Terra can stop us now." Kaleyra nodded her silent assent, and was comforted. The two sat and watched the ocean until finally the anticipation of their goal built to a near crescendo. Exchanging knowing glances, Gyrfalcon nodded to his avian companion, stood, and strode purposefully over to the prone form of their other scholar. "Come on Tim, we're losing daylight. We'd- "

 

The half-elf mage king stopped short as he saw for the first time the look of utter horror in the young man's wide open eyes.

 

"Gyr...falcon...Kaleyra...attend.", Timothy managed through the rictus of his lips.

[Wyvern]

There is a long moment of silence as both Gyrfalcon and Kaleyra stare blankly at Timothy, raising their brows at the brave historian and considering the strange words he had spoken. Finally deciding that regardless of what Timothy had said they should make their way into the forest, Gyrfalcon turns to Timothy and declares:

 

"Timothy... I realize you might be frightened by the aura of the island, but we've wasted enough time idling here as it is. If you have concerns, you can explain them as we make our way through the forest... Let's go."

 

With that, Gyrfalcon points towards the dense foilage ahead of them and makes his way into the forest, following the path of the beautiful stream next to their encampment. Kaleyra, who is eager to explore the island as well, grins and nods to Gyrfalcon's actions before swiftly following his lead... Standing in silence for several minutes, Timothy decides he doesn't want to be left alone on the island, and hesitantly follows his companions...

 

As the party of three make their way further into the forest, frequently brushing aside overgrown vines that obstruct their path, they cannot help but to admire their beautiful surroundings. The air is fresher and cleaner than anything they had previously experienced in Terra, the stream that gently babbles next to them adds a feeling of serenity to their journey, and the occasional call of an exotic bird reminds them that they are in a place long untouched by humankind. It is this very admiration of nature that causes the party to get caught off guard as they enter a small clearing in the wood, mistaking the light rustle of leaves they hear in the background for sounds made by harmonious wildlife...

 

Gyrfalcon is the first to enter the clearing, which brings an end to the numerous vines and reveals a beaten pathway. The half-elf hero is delighted to see this, and turns to signal to his companions that they had made a significant discovery... This happiness is shortlived, however, as the moment Gyrfalcon turns his head back towards the clearing, he is immediatly hit directly in the face by a large stick!

 

Reeling back from the blow and clutching his now bleeding nose in pain, Gyrfalcon turns his eyes towards the source of the attack, only to see a raggedly dressed woman holding a stick and gazing at him furiously. Though Gyrfalcon was certain he had never met the woman in his life before, there was something vaguely familiar about her appearance and demeanor...

 

"Intruder!" cries the woman enraged, pointing her stick at the half-elf. "Dare you trespass into the tranquility of the Rainbow Vale?! Speak!!!"

 

Kaleyra and Timothy immediatly arrive to Gyrfalcon's aid. Upon seeing the half-elf's two companions, the woman takes three steps back, positioning her stick directly in front of her in a defensive stance. Clenching her teeth and glaring angrily at the three adventurers, the woman exclaims:

 

"What is the meaning of this?! How did you come here?! Must I slay you all?! ... so be it!!!"

 

Gyrfalcon, Kaleyra and Timothy are about to respond when suddenly, to their shock and horror, they notice several undead corpses approaching the raggedly dressed lady from behind. Their first impression is that these corpses are under woman's control, but then they notice that she seems to be unaware of their presence...

 

"What do you stare at?!!" cries the woman enraged, once again pointing her large stick towards the adventurers. "Turn back, or I shall permanently blind thee!"

[Ozymandias]

"IT BEGINS!", wails Timothy in a voice his companions did not know he had. Dropping to his knees, the man's voice seems home to all the pain and despair in the world as he continues, eyes wide and staring at nothing. "This IS ALL IntellIGENT KIND WILL HAVE WROUGHT! The Darkness comes! Death and destruction only shall the pool be used for! DO NOT LET THEM HAVE IT!"

 

Momentarily dumbfounded, all in the clearing stop to stare at the wild-eyed man. Even the strange woman lowers her weapon- fractionally. It is only for a moment.

Those bicolored sightless orbs that swiveled in apparent agony came to rest not on her, but in her direction. The staff was raised with new vigor, but did her little good.

With a final bloodcurdling shriek, would-be sociologist Timothy McLaggan cannoned forward and into her with a maniac's strength. The woman swiftly brought her staff

to bear, but he only continued plowing her back, staff connecting so solidly with his chest that Kalyera winced visibly as she and Gyrfalcon heard an audible, wet, snap.

 

Fearing suddenly more for this strangers' life, Gyrfalcon too charged forward, but before he reached the pair, he noticed Timothy's right arm had gone slack. More disturbingly, he saw that the man did not seem to notice it as he drove his target to the ground, roughly turned her over with his left arm, and held her face in the direction of the zombies.

 

"Do you see now?", came the hoarse whisper in her ear.

"Flee! Destroy this island! Just stop them!" Excuting a leveraged throw with military precision, the woman threw the madman a full ten feet away- and towards the zombies. Scrambling to his feet, the battered and bruised man barely dodges another swing of that solid staff. Shocking his companions twice that day, in response, Timothy draws his sword and runs at the encroaching horde.

 

Breath drawing in ragged gasps, one green eye and one blue eye swim back into

focus. Timothy's breathing becomes more measured, and his jaw sets tightly.

His pace quickens again. "If there be any higher point to our lives, may I learn it today," he breathes.

 

And he is in the thick of the undead, sword flailing.

Edited February 18, 2003 by Ozymandias the Elder

[Wyvern]

The strange woman raises herself slightly from her position on the ground using one arm, not daring to fully stand up in her current state of bewilderment and confusion. The adventurers and the undead were almost alike in her eyes... all were strangers to the isle, and possible perpetrators of it's peace.

 

"I-" starts the woman somewhat hoarsely from her fallen position before finding herself at a loss for words. The warrior that had confronted her had defeated her and driven her to shame... yet perhaps only in order to save her from her imminent destruction at the hands of the undead...

 

Within the teeming ranks of the zombies, Timothy fights zealously with an ardent vigour that his startled companions had never witnessed before. Left and right he slices through the undead, quickly cleaving a former scholar in two before slicing upward at a previous church guard and gouging it's head... The sight of gangrene does not cause the sociologist to flinch in the slightest, nor does the horrendous smell of decay... Timothy seemed to be utterly caught in the heat of the battle...

 

Though the brave scholar at first fares well in his combat, he soon finds that the undead surrounding him have become rather overwhelming in number, and must lash out in every direction to defend himself. Fortunatly, before he has become worn out from this, Gyrfalcon rapidly arrives to his aid...

[Yui-chan]

Kaleyra watched, rather painfully aware that she’d been silent and motionless for neigh on a full five minutes as the developments swirled around her. It was all happening so fast – the strange, wild woman; the undead army; Timothy’s anguished cries; the short, vicious battle with the woman… The scholar cringed even as her rational mind ran the catalogue of injuries that her companion had received in the past few minutes. If nothing else had the power to alarm her, it was the sure knowledge that Timothy’s very life was possibly draining away to the damage that hid beneath his skin. But then, there was much else in the situation to alarm her.

 

And what have you done, Kaleyra d’Avie? Some part of herself whispered the chastisement in her mind. How are you helping your companions or your quest by standing here like a worthless, winged statue?

 

Simple enough, but the young woman did not know what she could do. Her eyes scanned the clearing, watching Timothy’s blade and Gyrfalcon’s katana flashing through the rotted mass of creatures around them, but she knew she would be less than worthless in the contest of arms that the men were waging. Flightless, weaponless, magicless… the young woman bit her lip, feeling her lack quite keenly even as her mind raced.

 

In the end, her thoughts settled with her eyes on the strange, wild woman who lay on the ground near the battle. Memory pricked her, and she raced back through the whirlwind events of the last fortnight to an overheard conversation in a church that is now only burnt rubble…

 

My wife, Elena, was truly a hero... beautiful, compassionate, courageous, skilled... She discovered the whereabouts of the Pool of Eternal Reflection... Even from the rafters above the cramped confessional booths, the monk Jakob’s pain was poignantly clear in his eyes. Elena set off to find the legendary Pool and never returned.

 

Elena. Kaleyra stared, wondering if it were possible. Jakob had claimed that Elena knew the location of the Rainbow Veil, could his wife have become stranded or even chosen to stay? Did this stranger before them know the way to the Pool?!

 

The Avian had already taken a few steps towards the woman when she stopped, realizing the danger. Two of the undead had broken from the rest and were ambling up clumsily behind her prone figure, taking advantage of how Timothy and Gyrfalcon’s struggles held her attention. Kaleyra gasped and broke into a run, completely unthinking of the fact that she still had no weapon. She only thought that someone who was perhaps the best possible source of information on the Pool that they all so desperately sought was in imminent danger, and they could not afford the loss.

 

The ruckus the scholar rose as she sprinted through the undergrowth broke the strange woman from her reverie, and she looked up to see the third intruder rushing at her, a determined look on the hawk-winged woman’s face. Unaware of the danger behind her, she could only assume that this creature meant to attack her, and the dirty woman fumbled for her staff in self-defense. Kaleyra was saved from Timothy’s fate by the fact that the historian had tumbled the woman onto her own staff, and in rolling over to free it, she came face to face with two of the rotting undead. As she started to bring her staff to bear in defense, a blur of blue and brown leapt across her and barreled into her attackers, turning them all into a jumble of putrid flesh and loose feathers.

 

By the time the world had stopped spinning around Kaleyra’s foolish head, the scholar had the stench of death so thick around her that it was hard to breathe. She struggled to free herself of the paper-skinned monstrosities, but got only as far as hands and knees before a fist like a bony sledgehammer caught her across the ribs, slapping her aside as if she weighed nothing. The impact robbed her lungs of air, and she lay gasping as the undead gracelessly ambled to their feet, lumbering over her. The impulsive Avian began to see the error of her headlong rush into danger as she watched one supernaturally-strong fist raise above her for the final blow. As it swung downward with finality, Kaleyra squeezed her eyes shut and wondered rather idly what the afterlife would be like...

[Wyvern]

Fortunatly for Kaleyra, the blow from the zombie never hits home as it's blocked in midswing by the open hand of the strange island woman, who had now gotten back on her feet and looked absolutely furious. Swiftly raising her stick and swinging it with the proficiency of an expert, the enraged woman circles it in a manner that cracks the skulls of both of the approaching undead at once, causing them to collapse and go motionless on the ground. At the same time, Timothy and Gyrfalcon manage to defeat the last few of the zombies that had surrounded them, gazing upon the outcome of their work in a mixture of triumph and horrific disgust. The once beautiful foilage of the clearing was now strewn with severed limbs and reeked of decay...

 

Staggering for a moment and trying to figure out the logic behind the battle that had just taken place, the strange woman decides that though the adventurers were intruders of the isle, they had defended her from the zombies and thus would not be considered foes... at least not for the time being. Turning to the fallen avian scholar that had bravely defended her, the island woman offers Kaleyra a hand and helps her get back on her feet. After she has done so, the woman backs herself up against a tree, staring at the three adventurers inquisitively while brushing aside a few strands of long black hair that cover her dirty yet relatively youthfull visage. Planting her stick firmly into the ground to show that she now meant only peace, the woman first turns to Kaleyra and asks:

 

"Are you hurt? I saw you take a blow..."

 

Kaleyra brushes the dust from her cloak and shakes her head to confirm a negative... the pain of the blow the zombie had made on her chest had already dulled to nothing more than a numb throb. Nodding to this, the strange woman looks from left to right at the three adventurers and explains:

 

"I will not fight thee, though it is my sworn duty as the self-proclaimed protector of this isle. You are intruders, yet have defeated an even more gruesome and hostile foe... thus I will speak to you in peace."

 

Having said this, the woman points a finger at the adventurers and exclaims:

 

"I am Elena, the sole protector of this island and keeper of it's peace... I demand explanations. Who are you, why have you come here, and what is the meaning of this bloodshed?!"

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon panted for breath as he cleaned his katana before sheathing it, sweat streaming down his face from his exertions in the hot, close air of the jungle around the strange group and the stranger woman.

 

Wiping his face, Gyrfalcon sighed. “I am Gyrfalcon No’Dessu.” he said, moving to tend Timothy, nearly colliding with Kaleyra who had moved to do the same. “Please... let me help him.” Kaleyra said quietly. Gyrfalcon bowed his head slightly and stepped back to let Kaleyra deal with Timothy, knowing that she would want to do something to prove that she was still useful- as if that was ever in any doubt.

 

“The winged woman who helped you is Kaleyra, a scholar from among her people.” Gyrfalcon said, introducing the party having fallen on him.

 

“The man who led the attack is Timothy. He’s a wandering ‘sociologist’, whatever that is. He’s not normally as aggressive as he’s been.” Gyrfalcon said, eyeing Timothy as he hissed in pain, Kaleyra probing to see how many ribs he had broken during the fight.

 

“We also have two companions- Myth and Y’Tren. Myth is an... well, an assassin. Y’Tren is a cleric of some sort, but the two are off exploring the island together.”

 

The woman frowned as the half-elf spoke, her attention partially divided between him and the other two. Despite her words, she was obviously still wary of any intruders on ‘her’ island.

 

“The bloodshed... I recognize those vestments. These poor souls were raised as minions of an evil cleric. She’s allied with an anti-paladin and a golden-tongued man who’s leading them. Despite his words, he’s an even greater monster then his two companions.”

 

“And why do you label him a monster?” Elena asked shrewedly. Gyrfalcon’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Anyone who would burn and slaughter the innocent as they have... who would kill men who truly deserve the title of ‘Saint’... they have just a little trouble fitting under the definition of good.” Gyrfalcon observed dryly before shaking his head and pushing on.

 

“As for what we’re here for... well, like just about everyone who’s ever landed here... we’re here to find the Pool of Eternal Reflection.”

 

The woman sighed. “Fools.”

[Wyvern]

Elena crosses her arms over her chest and gazes coldly at the three adventurers, spitting at the ground by her feet to accentuate her statement of them being "fools." After a long moment of silence, the guardian of the isle speaks up once again:

 

"Thus, as the others that have previously discovered this isle, you've bravely searched for this place in the hopes of finding the legendary Pool of Eternal Reflection...?"

 

There is a silent nod from the three adventurers. Elena lets out a sigh as she looks over their hopefull visages...

 

"It's strange..." continues Elena "... I thought that the rumors of the Pool had died out by this point, but apparently the legend still circulates amongst those educated enough to discover it... As the guardian of this isle, I can lead you to this Pool... I know the way to the Temple of Isaiis, where it remains hidden to this day. Yet unfortunatly, I must inform you that your quest is in vain."

 

A deathly silence falls over the three adventurers, and the hope that had once marked their visages fades away in an instant.

 

"... ...You mean to say that the Pool is not as the legend depicts it...?" questions Timothy meekly, rubbing his throbbing arm.

 

"No..." responds Elena, much to Timothy and the other adventurers' reliefs "... the Pool of Eternal Reflection is exactly as depicted in the legends, yet human myth always seems to find a way to twist facts with fiction. The Pool of Eternal Reflection does offer a moment of infinite wisdom and then eternal peace to the soul..."

 

Elena pauses, and then coldly locks eyes with the adventurers.

 

"Eternal peace to the soul... in death!"

 

The adventurers fall into a moment of awe-stricken silence as the truth behind the Pool is revealed to them... A truth that had been there all along, yet hidden... vieled by the superficial guise of human myth.

 

"We mortal beings cannot hope to fathom such wisdom..." explains Elena "... and as such, no sooner have we grabbed ahold of it then it is lost to us... such is life."

 

Elena sighs as she gazes upon the slaughter that had occured at the clearing, momentarily avoiding the awe-strucken looks of the silent and motionless adventurers in order to observe the ruination of natural beauty that had occured due to the battle. As she looks upon the slewn limbs and gangrene that deck the ground of the foilage, a contemplative look comes over her face and she suddenly speaks to noone in particular and says:

 

"Does not history repeat itself...? Several hundred years ago, a war took place on this island... a senseless and meaningless war between clans, yet one which was perhaps destined to have been fought. If what you say is true, and these undead are minions of a greater evil, then perhaps you were sent to fend off this evil... to aid me in protecting the isle...?"

 

Elena stands in silence for a long moment, then turns to the adventurers with a new flare of vigour in her eyes and exclaims:

 

"So be it! If the island is to be protected from a great force of evil, I am here to defend it till the death. Will you, those misled yet seemingly destined to arrive here, aid me in this noble crusade...?"

[Ozymandias]

"I didn't know about the death," Timothy murmurs. Kalyera and Gyrfalcon watch him now, still very concerned for their battered and possibly insane companion's welfare. Kal winces in sympathy as the young man attempts to run a hand through his sweat-tangled curls, only to remember he cannot with his newly set shoulder and broken collarbone.

 

To his credit, Timothy doesn't utter a sound to the pain. Instead, he lets his hand fall to his lap. His mismatched eyes swing up from the ground and gaze at their "hostess" dejectedly. "This eye of mine, good lady, has seen it all." At seeing her confusion, he elaborates slowly, letting his breath in and out carefully.

 

"I was born with a different kind of 'second sight'. Always, I've seen my life, and life around me." With his good arm, he gestures to his right eye. For the first time, Kalyera notices it is a haunted thing, a painted porcelain blue, like a robin's egg. A gaze she had been used to not seeing since she had left her people, and her family... But she filed the stray thought away as Timothy continued.

 

"With this," he gestures to the left, at the stark, soulless green that peers at them from the other lids, "I see what life has already gone. I see the past. I usually only see things when a great catalyst comes to me, " at this, he eyes his companions unreadably, "which has happened quite often, recently. I have seen the wars you speak of, Lady. In as much detail as an infantryman. Sometimes more." A small shudder shakes him, but he is committed now. "I have seen the quiet betrayals, the knife in the dark. The arguments refused resolution... Don't think I don't understand your cause, or your pain, Lady Elena.

I have seen the violence men and other thinkers can wreak. I have seen, over and over, the depravities we can convince ourselves are right in a quest for power. I have seen the death of civilization. We keep killing ourselves, over and over, until there's nothing left. Just so we can be stronger or more important than someone else."

 

 

Timothy's grimy face contorts in such naked rage even Gyrfalcon is momentarily taken aback. "How I hate them." He spits on the ground with every echo of a spitting viper. "I won't see whatever's left of those who aren't killing body or spirit left to the wolves."

 

With those final words, he seems to shrink in on himself, suddenly a young boy very far from family and home sitting there in the dirt. Yet still somehow as immovable as a mountain.

[Yui-chan]

The silence at the end of Timothy’s words spread throughout the ruined clearing, leaving even the birds and fauna eerily quiet. Elena watched the strange man, both surprised and pleased at the depth of his vision and his conviction. Gyrfalcon regarded him with new understanding and perhaps a bit of pity for all the horrible things the sociologist had undoubtedly seen. In Kaleyra’s gaze, though, was only a sadness so deep and profound that her eyes had slipped to a navy blue so dark as to be nearly black. When Timothy looked up from his seat, it was to find himself staring deeply into the Avian’s despair, and he couldn’t help but shudder.

 

Whatever he might have thought to say, though, was lost when she raised her hand and gently set it on his shoulder. "I... um... I wasn’t aware of the blessing and curse of your ocular asymmetry, Timothy. I understand your cynicism, and your willingness to believe the worst of the situation," All three of her companions blinked in confusion as Kaleyra forced a bright smile, but only Timothy was close enough to watch her gaze harden to a steely point as she glanced up at Elena, "but surely you will not take the words of a stranger to heart over thousands of years and generations of records."

 

The scholar straightened, letting her hand fall from Timothy’s shoulder as she turned to face Elena. Her smile was politely fixed in place, but her freed hand quickly clenched into a tight fist. "I am sure that you have your reasons for saying or perhaps believing your claims about the Pool, Lady Elena, but I could produce volumes of data from scores of different civilizations that refute your claims."

 

The ragged woman frowned, her brows drawing together sharply, but Kaleyra continued, her voice calm and even. "Furthermore, I can think of a number of perfectly rational explanations for individuals who may indeed have expired upon gazing into the Pool, not the least of which is cardiac arrest or fatal aneurysm triggered by the profundity of the wisdom there discovered. Your word is not sufficient evidence to contradict a lifetime of research and exploration," she glanced back down at Timothy and then to Gyrfalcon, her eyes coldly emotionless, "but I can understand how they might give anyone pause."

 

Gyrfalcon frowned at her reaction, wondering if it was logic or desperation that made the Avian cling so tenaciously to her disbelief. A momentary crack in her façade gave him all the answer he needed as, for one heartbeat, he saw the despair that Timothy had. The ranger took a step towards her, lifting a hand with the intention of comforting her, but a quick shake of her head stopped him. It was a jerky motion, almost frantic, and intuition told him that the meek scholar was ill-equipped to handle his sympathy at the moment. Instead, he lowered both his hand and his worried gaze.

 

Kaleyra continued on as if the tiny exchange had never happened, her eyes finding Elena’s once more. "That said, it seems to me that it’s in all of our best interests to find and come to terms with these necromantic individuals who are also seeking the Pool. One cannot be certain that their intentions wouldn’t preclude our access to the knowledge we seek, after all. Thus, I will be glad to cooperate and contribute as best I can to your attempts to protect the Pool and this island with the obvious caveat that I will require access to the Pool once we have provided for the island's continued security. My need and intentions are true, as I'm sure the Pool will recognize."

 

The scholar concluded with a sage nod and promptly turned her attention back to Timothy, who blinked up at her in a bit of confused wonder. "Your wounds are bound securely, Timothy, but I recommend you rest for a bit to recover your strength. If there’s nothing else you need at the moment…?"

 

The historian regarded his winged companion for a long moment before realizing she was waiting for a response. "Oh, um... no. I’m fine.” His voice softened sympathetically. "Kal-..."

 

"Good," she interrupted him with a curt nod, tearing her gaze away from the realization in his eyes. Instead, she offered the others a weak smile and muttered, "In that case, my water skin needs filled. I’ll return in a minimal amount of time." The Avian turned and swept up her pack, making a hasty retreat into the humid shadows of the jungle and leaving the two men gazing after her uneasily...

[Ozymandias]

Timothy sits quietly scratching symbols into the dirt with his finger, as his other two companions formulate what to do next. Some few seem familiar to both the human former scholar and the half-elf king, from their separate histories. Familiar and dire.

 

"Well, your Highness," he says at last, "It seems you are our resident tactician. What shall we do next?"

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon watched as Kaleyra gathered up her water skins and marched towards the stream- something was bothering her, and the half-elf suspected that she could not cope with the idea of a source of supreme knowledge... one that killed anyone who used it, making it inaccessible.

 

“"Well, your Highness," he says at last, "It seems you are our resident tactician. What shall we do next?"” Timothy said, tone only slightly sardonic for once. His words reminded Gyrfalcon of his duties- both to his companions, the people of New Muriska, and to anyone else who should be harmed if the wrong people take control of the Pool of Eternal Reflection. Despite what the woman said, there might be some way to use the Pool and survive, and if that happened...

 

the half-elf shook his head and sighed. “I think what we should do is go to the Pool and guard it directly.” Elena started to protest, but Gyrfalcon raised his hand.

 

“Our party slipped into two groups, and there is at least one other group on the island. By coming forth to meet us, the Pool is left defenseless. Any group that operates like we have has the possibility of finding and using the pool while you are away confronting some of them.”

 

Elena subsided, frowning. Gyrfalcon went on. “However, I don’t think we all want to stay here forever, guarding this Pool.” Especially when Forever could be a very, very long time... the half-elf took a deep breath. “After the Pool is secured in the short term... we should destroy it or make it inaccessible.”

 

“What?!” Timothy roared. Gyrfalcon winced and raised his hand, but Timothy continued onward. “Destroy something that can grant the wisdom that can end these senseless conflicts and betrayals?”

 

Gyrfalcon nodded slowly. “Yes. Destroy something that offers the false hope of those resolutions. Timothy, what good is infinite wisdom if it cannot be shared? The purpose of knowledge and wisdom is to share it to those who need it, and to use it for those who can be helped through it... but who can do that if they are dead?”

 

Gyrfalcon shook his head, his last statement echoing in his mind. What use knowledge, if it cannot be shared? What use knowledge, if only learned for selfish reasons? What use?

[Wyvern]

Elsewhere on the island...

 

Myth and Y'Tren stand at the pathway they had discovered in their search for the Pool of Eternal Reflection, the two adventurers still unaware of the devastating consequences that gazing into the Pool produces. Turning towards Myth to respond to her question on whether or not they should take control of the Pool if they find it before the others, Y'Tren smirks and mutters:

 

"Perhaps... we'll play it by ear. If we happen to be the first ones to find the Pool, then I'd certainly be willing to test it before the others... though I'd like to share it with them as well. After all, they did aid us in battling that serpent..."

 

Having said this, Y'Tren carefully examines the pathway they had discovered and suddenly turns his attention towards the tree which Myth leans against, noticing part of a strange symbol that had been carved into it's bark. Advancing towards the tree, Y'Tren signals to Myth with his right hand and says:

 

"Myth, would you mind moving over for just a second?"

 

Myth raises a brow curiously and shifts from her position to reveal the full ancient symbol, which had been carved into the bark of the tree centuries ago... Y'Tren carefully traces a finger over the carving in awe, noticing that it depicts the image of a galloping unicorn underneath a crescent moon. Smiling and turning to Myth, Y'Tren points to the carving and exclaims:

 

"It's a picture of a unicorn that must have been placed here as a sign for directions... The ancient S'den clan often associated unicorns with wisdom, meaning we must be on the correct path towards the Pool! Let's head onwards..."

 

Y'Tren turns and heads down the path they had discovered as Myth nods and follows suite. The two adventurers pass by several enormous trees and vines on the twisting path until they finally reach a clearing of magnificent beauty. Exotic flowers of all sorts completely surround the open area and a large crumbling statue of several angels singing in harmony rests at it's center. Myth and Y'Tren view the continuation of the path that they follow, noticing that it leads onward through the clearing and then heads back into the heart of the forest.

 

Gasping in admiration as he enters into the flower grove, Y'Tren stares in amazement at all the beautifull varieties of flowers that surround him, as well as the ancient statue from a lost civilisation. Grinning to himself, Y'Tren heads off of the beaten path for a moment to get a closer look at the statue while Myth patiently crosses her arms over her chest and waits behind.

 

Standing at the center of the grove on the edge of the path while Y'Tren stoops over to examine the scriptures written at the base of the statue, Myth suddenly realizes that something is wrong with the clearing. Though she couldn't put her finger on it, something seemed out of place in the grove, something unnatural... Then, in a flash, it suddenly hits her:

 

The smell.

 

Though the grove was surrounded by flowers, the air smelled rotten and decayed...

 

Slowly reaching for her dagger as Y'Tren walks back towards the pathway from the statue, Myth clenches her teeth and shouts to her companion just as the enormous bushes of beautifull flowers surrounding the grove are torn open by a swarm of hideously deformed zombies. Y'Tren's jaw drops open and he clutches the longsword at his belt, racing towards the edge of the path to aid Myth in battle...

[Gwaihir]

"Damn! why did I ever leave my city?" Myth grumbled to herself as her five throwing knives imbedded themselves in the brains of the five nearest zombies.

 

The third one tottered towards her still though there was a knife mostly buried in his brain. Myth yanked the knife out, knocked the zombie over with a kick, then turned and threw the throwing knife into another nearby zombie before carefully killing {if that's a word one can use about a zombie} the one on the ground.

 

On his side Y'Tren's longsword could have been light for the speed with which it was moving. Very soon both comrades were surrounded by a pile of decapacitated zombies.

 

Myth leaned over and pulled one of her knives out of a body. "Man these things stink."

 

There were more zombies around her than Y'Tren, of course, because she had been closer to the bushes they tore out of. The problem is, she was getting tired. They just kept pouring out of the bushes with no break. The attack motions had become automatic--slash with the long dagger until there's a chance to pick up a throwing dagger and repeat.

 

Myth had a headache, but the roilling stench swept on.

Worse, she was getting tired. '(Myth's thoughts)When you're surrounded by zombies who want to kill you is just not the best time to get tired. She knew that if this kept up she'd get hurt. Physically tired, mentally she knew she was fine. THAT was it. Myth cast one of her five spells--Camoflauge. This was the perfect place to use it, because zombies are way to dumb to figure out where she was, and they probably have bad sight!

 

Myth felt recharged and full of a new energy. Everywhere zombies who didn't know to defend themselves fell down. The battle seemed clearly almost over.

[Wyvern]

Myth and Y'Tren slash away furiously at the swarm of zombies, slowly growing tired in thieir relentless onslaught... Noticing that the undead are gradually decreasing in number, the heros gain confidence in their premonition that the battle is nearly over. Unfortunatly, an unexpected turn of events occurs, and these expectations are immediatly shattered...

 

As the two adventurers cleave through numerous zombies, an unearthly silence suddenly falls upon the grove... The undead suddenly cease advancing and stop attacking, standing still as stone in their positions. A chill passes over Y'Tren and Myth, and the two heros immediatly turn towards the ancient angel statue at the center of the grove as the sound of a falling pebble suddenly breaks the unnatural quiet.

 

Seated upon two of the uplifted angel hands on the ancient statue rests none other than the priestess Celestia, dressed in her typical pearl white priestess cloak... the same clothing she had been wearing underneath her nun outfit the night that the Cathedral had burned. Gazing at the two adventurers in a serene and almost peacefull manner, one would have never expected that the calm priestess was in fact a cold blooded murderer.

 

Lifting herself from her seat on top of the statue, Celestia casually hops off of it, floating effortlessly to the ground rather than falling. The silence of the clearing is once again broken as the light tap of her foot upon the base of the statue echoes hollowly throughout the unbearable stillness...

 

Much to Myth's dismay, it takes Celestia no more than a glance in the assasin's direction to dispell the veil of camoflage that she had been using. Grumbling something under her breath, Myth takes half a step back and breaks the unnatural stillness of the grove in the process, though the zombies remain motionless and all is still relatively quiet...

 

Y'Tren uneasily reaches halfway for his sword, briefly glancing towards Myth, then back at Celestia, anxiety written in his eyes...

 

Celestia remains expressionless and serene for a few moments, and then a subtle smile makes it's way across her face. Calmly raising her left arm and slowly extending the fingers of her hand, the priestess does not even utter a word as her eyes suddenly flash with a frightening blue energy. The silence of the clearing is broken by a deafening roar as a concentrated bolt of uncanny force soars towards Myth at an incredible speed, effortlessly burning at least 6 zombies in the proximity of it's trajectory. Myth is suddenly faced with a rare moment of indecisiveness, uncertain of the best method to evade the spell, finding both directions of escape equally inadequate...

 

Y'Tren's eyes immediatly widen as he notices his companion's uncertaintly... Dropping his sword and shouting something inaudible, the venerable adventurer suddenly breaks out into a wild dash towards Myth, oblivious to all thoughts other than that of saving her... Despite still holding a grudge against the assasin for her previous murders, Y'Tren somehow finds himself unable to risk her demise...

 

In a moment of selfless bravery and compassion, the scholarly adventurer valiently jumps in front of the bolt directed at Myth, sacrificing his own life to intercept the spell. Myth gazes in shock as she is suddenly showered in Y'Tren's blood, the bolt colliding with his body and dealing him a fatal blow... The venerable hero falls to the ground, collapsing in the same spot that one of his ancient S'den ancestors had fallen several hundred years ago in a war between clans...

 

Celestia remains motionless, the smile faded from her face and replaced with a look of confusion and uncertainty.

 

This hadn't been written.

[Gwaihir]

For a split second both woman stopped, frozen and confused. Myth stared at Y'Tren and wondered. Why had he done that? Sacrifice was not a part of her world, or a concept she could understand. She looked at the former assassin and tried to grasp why he had done that. Had he thought he'd live through it? Probably not, there certainly seemed to be no reason he would. What could he possibly have gained in it? He was a good assassin and an interesting man. It was indeed a shame to lose him.

 

But this was not a time to mourn. There was a mage to kill here. She had no clue how, and it seemed hopeless, but that was no excuse not to try. Myth raised her arm and hurled a dagger. It was perfectly aimed to cover the priestess' robes in gushing blood

 

but *dink* it hit her shield and dropped to the ground.

 

Of course! Myth mentally hit herself on the head. D'oh! She should have known that even a confused magic user would have some sort of residual shield up.

 

But, before Myth could do anything else, Celestia managed to pull herself together. It was time to get rid of this pesky woman...Another force bolt came hurtling. It didn't look as strong as the first, Myth figured Celestia must be tired, but it would have been quite enough to kill a person.....if it had been better aimed.

 

It smashed a pretty hole in the ground a foot away from Myth. Celestia just looked at it. This was wrong. Utterly wrong. Maybe if she had reacted she could have done something, maybe not, but instead she froze. Afraid and baffled. It didn't matter, because she only had a second before Myth was right next to her.

 

The dagger slid smoothly into her side, right under the ribs.

Myth smiled--now the robe was red.

[Wyvern]

Celestia gasps sharply and tightly clutches her mortal wound, attempting to stop the gushing blood yet failing miserably due to the potency of the assasin's attack. Grinning to herself confidently, Myth turns towards her latest victim, already assured of her victory due to the precision of her previous blow. The assasin's victorious smile is short lived, however, as her eyes suddenly lock in a piercing gaze with those of the dying Celestia...

 

The eyes that had once alerted Kaleyra of Celestia's presence in Saint Andrew's Church no longer shined with malice or hatred. Even after failing her companions and her quest at the hands of an assasin, the fury and power once present in the eyes of Celestia had now been replaced with a gleam of innocence and fear, like those of a child that had lost her way and found herself far from home. For a moment, Myth remains motionless as she relates to that gaze, an icey dagger of memory piercing her heart and momentarily causing her mask of indifference to wear thin. She could sympathize with those eyes...

 

The interlocking of gazes is suddenly cut short as Celestia stumbles forward and coughs up blood, more red oozing out of the spot where she had been wounded. After standing for a few moments in confusion and finally reaching the acceptence of her death, Celestia faintly mumbles:

 

"... how can this be?"

 

The priestess then clenches her teeth, her anger revitalized, and exclaims with her dying breaths:

 

"No matter...! I shall aid my allies regardless, even if it be with my very life's blood!"

 

At this, Myth flinches as Celestia reaches for her wound and tears it open further with her right hand, painfully spilling her blood over the soil of the grove. Chanting words in an arcane dialect and suddenly glowing with blue energy, there is a flash that lights up the clearing as the priestess collapses dead on the ground.

 

Much to Myth's dismay, this flash seems to awaken the zombies of the clearing, who suddenly continue advancing and attacking. What's more, the undead seem revitalized with a new vigour and durability, as the skilled assasin suddenly finds herself spending as much time battling one zombie as she had battling ten previously. With the numbers surrounding her, things did not look good for the assasin. Quickly viewing her surroundings, Myth briefly casts glances towards the motionless bodies of Y'Tren and Celestia before noticing a potential route of escape that leads back into the forest...

[Gwaihir]

Myth grimaced as she looked around. It felt as if she had been fighting forever, but there were no fewer zombies than before. She cursed herself for not killing the lady before she could cast that spell. Tons of extra-strong zombies were just what the doctor had not ordered.

 

A skillfully placed thrust and yet another zombie was down, but this wasn't working. Myth knew her breath was beginning to flag, and if she kept this up some stupid zombie would manage to clobber her. It just sucked to feel one had been beaten by moronic dead bodies, Myth complained to herself. She bit her tongue so that the pain would clear her mind.

It wasn't the zombies who were trying her strength, Myth realized--it was the lady. That way she didn't have to say she was about to run away from a bunch of brainless corpses.

 

There it was, she paused a second in mid-slash, because she hadn't let herself admit it before--The zombies were just too much, and she was going to have to run away. It wasn't giving up to run away when the only real opponent was dead too Myth told herself.

This was all a waste of time and she hadn't even found the stupid pool. Myth fought her way to the edge the clearing and then....vanished.

 

The zombies had no idea where to go and they milled about confused and aggressive, sometimes killing each other since they had no other target.

 

Meanwhile Myth sprinted around a bend in the path and took off the invis spell. She leaned against a tree for a few moments to catch her breath and then she was off like a streak of lightening. Darting through the forest and enjoying her speed.

She ran, jumping over the roots that stuck up from the path. Running was fun and it was something she didn't do enough. Myth made a mental note to run more when she finally got home from this god-awful assignment.

Myth ran fast....maybe a bit too fast, because suddenly she stopped where the path ended. She certainly hadn't been here before. Myth bit her lip and glared at herself. 'Oh you moronic assassin, you meant to go back to the clearing you camped at, but now you're utterly lost on a stupid magical island that's infested with putrid brainless creatures!' and then she shrugged. It mattered little--by now the others would have left the campsite anyway, and she had no idea where they'd have gone. It didn't really matter where she went now.

Myth closed her eyes to randomly pick a direction...it's not as if that really made her lose her sense of direction, but it helped a bit when she was trying to be random.

She turned around and then headed off, jogging a few minutes until she heard the leaves crackle beneath her feet. No point keeping her eyes closed and walking into a tree.

She opened them only to see a bird woman curled up ahead of her. With her head in her lap the lady seemed to be deeply in thought. She ignored the world.

 

Perfect--one of the other explorers. This seemed a ideal time to pump the bird-gal for information. There was no one around and the scholar had never seemed anything but naive; maybe she would tell Myth something she didn't know.....even if it was only a set of directions. As that last thought occured to the assassin she chuckled dryly and resolved to be more careful not to get lost again.

She approached the lady from behind--it was usually worth while to startle people unless they went armed and the Avian didn't.

Certainly no need for her to know Myth was somewhat lost.

[Yui-chan]

As Myth crept along the edge of the forest, she watched the winged woman where she sat curled into herself, ever wary. Kaleyra and the clearing around her, however, were silent and still, steeped in dappled sunlight that glinted in golden fire off the Avian's coiled braids and in silver stars off the clear waters of the tiny brook beside her. The wind was a whispered breath that barely stirred the leaves in the trees, and the birds that chirruped softly to the climbing sun were hidden within the shadows of the jungle. Only the water moved, and its flow was so lazy and smooth that Myth had to look twice to assure herself that the liquid ran along the bed of the little brook. To all appearances, she had stumbled upon a perfect moment of peace and tranquility, but Myth's instincts told her those appearances were deceiving.

 

She couldn't have been more right.

 

Kaleyra was in the middle of a battle as overwhelming as Celestia's zombies, rationality warring with emotion over the news Elena had given them. She'd told the others that she didn't believe it; she'd made a perfectly logical argument for why Elena might be misinformed. Her traitorous heart, though, still screamed fear and doubt in a voice too loud to be ignored. What if Elena were right? What if all of her life had been preparation for a quest that had always been doomed to fail? What if she could not find a way to save her race?

 

No. By all the Mothers of her people, she wished the thought to be the truth. Elena is mistaken. There is no logic in creating a gift that destroys, in giving wisdom but taking away the capacity to use it in the same stroke. If all it brought was instant death, there would also be no logic in hiding it, in fighting mighty wars over its possession. She happily latched on to the thought, following it as she would a lifeline. The Vishari and the S'den would never have waged war over an empty promise, and most certainly each knew the true function of the Pool. In those ages, it was unprotected and unhidden, used and worshipped at in the god's first temple. No, the texts would have warned of death, if that were truly the inevitable result of its power.

 

The voice of fear within her head died down to a whisper, and Kaleyra shoved it to the back of her mind with great relief. Walls of logic and control locked back into place. Elena had lied to protect the Pool from a group of strangers. It made perfect sense, given the adventurer's obsession with the location. She could not know that they were truly worthy, and so she had decided to mislead them in the hopes of scaring them off. It was an understandable ploy, really, and one that the scholar had no trouble forgiving her for.

 

If I understand nothing else, it's Herculean devotion to a cause, she reflected with a tiny nod, moving for the first time in long minutes. She will see, though, that we are not dangers to her Pool or her island. When we have gained the wisdom, she will know that she has succeeded even though I've seen through her lie.

 

The scholar took a deep, cleansing breath and stretched, her wings stretching wide to either side. She whispered a simple prayer into the thick silence of the clearing, "Thank you, ancient Mothers, for giving me the knowledge and the wisdom to find the truth beneath the lie. I won't fail you or our noble race."

 

"Cute. So, what was the lie?" Cold steel against the side of her neck froze the Avian in her place even more effectively than the surprise of the voice cutting into the silence.

 

Kaleyra blinked, panic lodging in her throat. She knew those tones, but the knowledge didn’t bring much comfort. "M-Myth?"

 

"Mm." The assassin lifted the blade away, shaking her head at the bird-lady's lack of awareness. She could count about twelve ways in which she could've killed the feather brain before she'd even realized she was there. "Not very careful, are you?"

 

Kal stared at the human as she stepped over to the brook, nonchalantly leaning down for a drink. The Avian shook her head, willing her heart to stop pounding, and added a twisted sense of humor to the list of Myth’s bad traits. As an afterthought, she also reached over and pulled her pack closer. "Wha... What are you doing here? Where's Y'Tren?"

 

Wiping water from her mouth, Myth straightened and turned to Kaleyra. "He's dead." The words held all the emotional investment of a comment about the weather, but they earned a shocked gasp from the scholar.

 

"Dead?" She jumped to her feet, defensively clutching her pack to her chest. "Y-you... You... You killed him?!"

 

Myth rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten just how annoying the bird-lady could be.