Avishraa Reloaded

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{{wst>shyriath|How were they //doing// it?

Despite every turn and twist her companions made, every attempt by Tikke and Unitti to take their cart along paths that few used regularly, all around them were futures in which they were surrounded by takmar with blades and exalted expressions... and a strange faded figure whose touch could turn things to black mist.

Yet the pattern of those futures was not one of people led by an oracle. It was reactive. They could tell where the party was, even at a distance of many kilometers, but not where it would be. She knew of no magic, none at all, that fit such a description. And while it was slightly comforting to think that, given enough space and enough speed, such pursuers might be outmaneuvered, the party had neither. The terrain around them had become very hilly, shading into the mountains ahead in the distance, and their foes stood in their path.

The surest way to avoid them was to turn around and go back.

Evrith had searched through possibilities and found no good choices. But she had discovered //what// their pursuers were tracking, and, if nothing else, it meant that there was the possibility to limit the casualties... if she could convince the others.

They had stopped to camp, as they had regularly for the past two sixes of rests. The sun was near the zenith of its slow journey across the sky, so there was no need of light, but Unitti had built a small fire for cooking. Evrith had been staring into it silently for some time.

At last, as Tikke fussed over some thinly sliced meat he was cooking in a pan over the flames, Evrith spoke, suddenly and quietly: "I think perhaps I should consider going on alone."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Evrith could practically witness the protest ripple through An-uxhwi, his body language not at all subtle. It was almost as though she'd said something outrageous. But it wouldn't have been An-uxhwi if he hadn't hesitated before speaking, and did so with careful consideration: "What happens if you continue on your own?" His tone wasn't hiding his suspicion.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Evrith did not look at him; her gaze remained on the fire, or at least in its direction. Her expression tensed, in the manner of one preparing for a struggle.

"It would be the difference," she replied, trying to put some steel in her voice, "between them doing unpleasant things to all of us and doing them to one of us. If I go separately, they'll follow me, not any of you."

Tikke and Unitti glanced at each other. Though their aid - and their cart - had been quite useful, Evrith had never been quite clear on their reasons for accompanying the other three this far, even after being informed of their distant pursuers. She was increasingly of the opinion that they wanted something, but whatever it was, they hadn't dared to ask for it yet.

They looked uncertain - they were survivors, and mindless bravery was not a survival trait - and muttered to each other in their own language, but to her despair it sounded like they were trying to work themselves up to something. While they talked, she finally turned toward An-uxhwi with an air of resignation.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|An-uxhwi either paid no attention to the other xtauh or, at the very least, gave their mutual glances no further thought. Evrith's elaborations had an air of finality to them he didn't like - none of the options were 'and we evade them' or 'and we defeat them'.

On the other hand, 'unpleasant things' did not //sound// like it implied death. Enslavement, as in the mines? He'd certainly rather fight to the death before he let either himself or Evrith land in that state again.

Still, it could be a euphemism. "What are your chances in surviving the encounter on your own?" An-uxhwi asked, still maintaining a sceptical air.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"Should they catch up with me..." She paused.

It would be much easier to lie. Lying would probably solve a large number of problems. It would've solved even more if she'd just started off by lying. But she'd done that, once - lied about the future to make someone choose other than they would have - and both he and she had paid for it. Were still paying for it. It made her ill to think of doing that again.

"They want something from me," Evrith continued, reluctantly. "I don't know what. They will try to force me to give it to them. But once they have it - or realize that they won't get it - they do not want me alive. But," she pushed on, watching his expression carefully, "I might be able to fight my way out."

That wasn't a lie. Just very, very unlikely.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Unsurprisingly, An-uxhwi was not willing to let her off easily. "And if we stay with you? Does that increase your chances?" he asked, staring at her intently.}}

{{wst>shyriath|She tried very hard to meet his gaze, though it made her eyes water a bit. "A bit. Not appreciably."

Shyriath, who up until this point had been watching almost as intently as An-uxhwi, chose this moment to speak. "These people are ahead of us? Between us and the pass?" At her slight nod, he continued, "It would be a very long detour, but there are other paths across the mountains, so if we turned-"

"It would take too long-" Evrith began, then stopped, a moment of indecision crossing her face. It //would// be too long, but explaining why that was important was not something she wanted to get into. And, after all, it was still a better chance of survival - for all of them - than going forward. Then again-

In a more subdued voice, she continued, "I don't think it would work, not in the long run. They would be on our heels the whole way through difficult terrain."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|An-uxhwi considered what Evrith was saying, coming to parse it as that she would not be able to outrun her pursuers indefinitely. It really was no question at all for him - he would stay with her, even if it only budged her chances by a measly percent or two. He still owed it to her.

"Is there anything at all we can do in preparation to bolster our chances?" he asked, stubbornly. 'Our' chances was, of course, telling - he wasn't even //pretending// to entertain the idea of letting her off on her own. Maybe she could, with sufficient insistence, force him to leave by way of commanding it, but it surely wouldn't be easy.}}

{{wst>shyriath|It hadn't seemed likely that he would agree. She hadn't expected him to. Evrith told herself that perhaps it was a desire to see the world saved, and she hoped it was, because knowing that he was doing it for //her// sake would be more than she could bear. She blinked the wetness out of her eyes, and gave Shyriath a challenging glare.

The green shrugged in a resigned fashion. "No point avoiding death if the end of the world is coming, is there?"

She glanced at the other xtauh, but Tikke was already speaking up, with what sounded - and, at least to An-uxhwi, somewhat looked like - false bravado. "We go along a bit longer," he said, sticking out his chest a bit. "We not good fighters, but we tricky. Maybe help."

Evrith nodded gloomily. She didn't trust herself to respond, because the words lined up in her brain said: //I'm going to get you all killed.//}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|An-uxhwi glanced into the distance, as though it might yield some further insight to their strange, nameless enemies that had Evrith so rattled. "Could we get some assistance? The other Soakers-- takmar. They do not like us, but perhaps if we time it right, and they like these other people even less, we could have temporary allies?" Or meat shields in a horrific magical battle, at least - not that An-uxhwi was all that much more useful.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"It would be difficult..." Evrith murmured. Her eyes focused on the future again. "It would require them to believe us about the ones who are pursuing us. And to be able to recognize them if they come, because most of them are not well-known enough. And there are enough enemies to make trouble for the kinds of small settlements to be found around here. They would have to like us //much// better than they like the others..."

She hesitated, then looked at Tikke and Unitti. "There are xtauh living in these parts too, I think. How well do you know them?"

Tikke, once again, looked somewhat offended at the term 'xtauh'. "There some few of the //People// here," he replied, emphasizing the word. "Was many more once, so say storytellers. But giants drove many People away. Those left not like giants, even tiny magic-giants.

"We know some. Some very well. We, er..." Tikke paused, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. "We have hope to stop and see one band, and have you talk with them about a thing. Maybe we convince them to help against enemies, but they not so close. Maybe two vigils, up //there//." He pointed southeast, toward a precipitous-looking spur jutting out from the hills, looming over the landscape.

It wasn't far in a straight line, but getting up it... yes, it wasn't hard to imagine it taking two vigils. At least.

"I don't think there's anyone blocking the way yet, but if they catch us while we're making our way up, we're going to have a bad time," Evrith mused. "Perhaps if we leave the cart and the supplies and fly-" she stopped, and glanced at An-uxhwi's wing, which still had a truly ugly bruise on it. "//Can// you fly?"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|//Could// he fly? An-uxhwi craned his neck to look at his wing, as though the visual assessment were worth more than the obvious proprioceptive and nociceptive cues. He could force himself to fly. It would be painful. The wing wasn't so damaged that it was at risk of ripping entirely in the winds, but it would certainly get increasingly strained and sore.

But if they started flying and it turned out to be too much, they would just lose time, likely more than just the spurt of flying as they tried to nurse him back to health, given the associated landing wasn't likely to be a good one.

"I should manage over a short distance, but I don't trust myself to manage the way up," he said, some regret in his voice. "But that doesn't need to stop us - I could go to a place in one of the books and you could carry it with you."}}

{{wst>shyriath|Evrith blinked. For all that acquiring the books had been her idea, they remained a bit of a blind spot; she could not see into the future through them, though the same could not be said of the past. Tikke had explored the one with the grasslands - he and Shyriath had endeavored to lighten the cart's load by moving supplies into it - and Shyriath had looked into one of the others, but the rest of them had been too busy keeping the cart moving to join in.

It was certainly a less dangerous idea than making An-uxhwi fly up there. And if she and An-uxhwi remained with the cart while the others went to get help, it would only make them more vulnerable in the meantime.

"I suppose you're right," she murmured.

"We will pick up cart again later?" Tikke asked, though 'asked' might not have been the right word; traveling with An-uxhwi had slowly accustomed Evrith to certain xtauh expressions, but the one Tikke was using was one she wasn't familiar with. The tone of voice, however, included a certain pugnaciousness that suggested that replying 'no' was going to cause problems.

"If we can. But most of the supplies are in the book anyway, aren't they?" she ventured. Tikke replied, stubbornly, "Is our cart."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|An-uxhwi smiled gently at Tikke's possessiveness. It took him a moment to identify why it brought him joy: Here was a xtauh in takmar lands, speaking of his possessions. The workers in the mine where he had met Evrith would never have taken to such a turn of a phrase. "We will do our best," he promised, meaning it with sincerity, and not at all ashamed to speak for the others.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Evrith wasn't nearly as certain as An-uxhwi sounded that they'd be in a position to retrieve the cart, but she decided not to speak up. It could happen. And, anyway, discouraging the help of Tikke and Unitti at this point was probably a bad move.

"Then if that's how we're going to do this, we may as well get started," she announced, rummaging around in the pack containing the books. She took out the one they'd been using to transfer the supplies to, and opened it to the front page; the lines inked onto the paper gently twisted and moved, suggesting a field of grass undulating in the wind. She held it out to An-uxhwi. "Once you go through, the rest of us will take off."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|An-uxhwi allowed himself a few seconds to watch the ink dance across the page. It had been a while since he'd even heard of this, much less seen it. It wasn't something his immediate people would have done with the art, but the enchantment nonetheless kindled a spark of a sense of home.

An affirmative gesture later, he reached out and disappeared.}}

{{wst>shyriath|After a few minutes of gathering up the few things that needed gathering, one by one, the other took off. Evrith clutched the book tightly even as she wheezed her way into the air; she had never been the strongest flier.

Off to their south, from various places, barely visible in the fading light, various shapes began rising from the trees.

---------------

For An-uxhwi, the world and the faces of his companions spun away, pulled into a shifting void; but in its place, something new spun into existence.

When it settled around him, he found himself... it wasn't a cave, really, so much as a rock overhang, protecting a small area from the elements. There was a small shelf crudely carved into the wall, on which lay the book that presumably led back to his own world; on the floor, incised in thin, deep lines, was a symbol matching one he'd previously seen in the book that led here.

Once he stepped out from beneath the overhang, he found himself on a kind of wide stone shelf overlooking a vast landscape. There was a dense, ragged line of trees bordering a stream in the distance, but it merely bisected what was a vast, nearly flat sea of grass. There was wind, pleasantly warm and gentle but constant, bringing the varied scents of a living landscape.

And above, the stars. But they were no stars that An-uxhwi knew... and there was among them no sign at all of the Gentle Eye.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The view of the sky gave him vertigo. It was like looking into floodwaters, as though a massive current were moving across the firmament, too far away for him to observe the breakneck speed. He knew it was an illusion, a false association, but his heart thundered against his chest in disregard for his feelings. A part of him wanted to look away, but it was easily silenced. Instead, he maintained a quiet stare, taking in the alien sky, marvelling at it in lieu of the technology that had brought him here. For a moment, it seemed as though //this// was what the Gate Wars had been about - the power to cross worlds. It lit his mind with imagination of what those times might have been like.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Somewhat adding to the sense of wonder, once he thought of it, was a story his mother had told him when he was young. It was about how the world was but one of the eggs of Daxelh, about which she lay curled; but she herself lived in a much larger world, much more pleasant than the desert in which his people lived, with green grass and water, much like this one, where those who lived decently might pass on to once they died-

Of course, this could not be that place. Whatever An-uxhwi might have thought about the possibility of mortals sneaking their way into the abode of Daxelh while still alive, he imagined that they would find it a bit more idealized if they did - and not, for example, being host to the cloud of gnats that appeared to be gathering around his head in a lazy cloud.

His gaze fixed on the sky, he eventually noticed that, in fact, the stars //did// seem to be moving across it. Of course, they did so in his own world, too, if you paid attention for long enough, but these were moving much, much faster - not quite enough to see from moment to moment, but enough that after a number of minutes one could tell that some were not the same distance from the horizon as they had been.

Behind An-uxhwi, as he watched the sky, someone faded into view in the same place he had arrived, and looked around in bewilderment.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Since it was a silent transition, An-uxhwi was at first oblivious to it. The motion of the stars had captured his attention, and he found himself trying to work out whether it was a cyclic motion or if this world was moving past the stars as one might pass pebbles while wandering on a straight path - and, if it was cyclic, what that might mean for this world's rhythms.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Behind him, the figure's gaze locked onto An-uxhwi, and it raised something that it had been carrying. It crept forward on its hindlegs, using its arms in a rhythmic motion.

An-uxhwi's first warning was a faint whirring of rope moving through air, and then some kind of weighted net began to descend over him. Behind him, the net-thrower dropped to all fours and began to charge.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Instinct seized An-uxhwi, dictating his motions. He threw himself half the side, half forward as the shadow the net appeared over him, tucking his wings in tight to roll away from the threat, his eyes wide, attention exploding into wide view. A warning sound, from his chest sounding much like an explosion of birdsong, barked through the air, in synchronicity with the thud of the weights on the net.

Most of him had avoided the construct - although not one of the weights, which had gifted his hip with another bruise to add to his others - and he squirmed and kicked it off the rest of his body as he might a decorative garment that had become abruptly annoying.

For an instant, he regretted not carrying weapons, then seized the edge of the net, gathering it up, its weights on the ground, the rest of it turning into a thick, awkward cord. His body tense and only just stable enough to do what he planned, he jerked the weights off the ground and swung them toward his charging assailant.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The figure - a brown takma male, by the look of it - was within only a few meters of An-uxhwi when the weights came hurtling back in his direction, and was taken somewhat by surprise. He jerked aside in time to avoid being smashed in the side of the head, but the motion sent him tumbling, and he snarled as he tried to hook his claws into An-uxhwi from a prone position.

Another figure appeared in the vicinity of the book. It glanced around, saw the ongoing contest, and began to stride purposefully but unhurriedly toward it.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|One thing the xtauh did better than the takmar was agility. The claws struck nothing. Instead, the makeshift flail yanked back before the brown takma could change his target and snag it, and, drenched in adrenaline, An-uxhwi hefted it again and swung, fully intending to whack him across the head.

He hadn't yet found the time to panic, but he could feel it rising. That there was a second takma here now already tipped the odds //firmly// in his disfavour - if there was a third, he could hope to do little other than try to fly away, and that was the one thing he'd meant to avoid by coming here.

The question what they might want or where they were coming from didn't even arise. He was too busy surviving.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The brown takma managed, just barely, to roll aside as the weight struck. The look on his face suggested that, whatever kind of resistance he'd expected, it hadn't really covered this. He tried to scramble upward before another weight could come his way.

The other figure stopped immediately outside easy swinging range. It was about the right size for another male takma, but An-uxhwi found it hard to make out any further details; he, if it was a he, seemed to blend into the night. He regarded An-uxhwi, head cocked to one side.

A somber voice said: "This will not help you, you know."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|More animal than person, An-uxhwi snarled across at the new character that had appeared, antennae curved in tight, aggressive attention. The words reached him and he parsed them with something that stood in for intellect, but it was unclear what 'this' would or would not help, and so it fell by the mental wayside, discarded as waste, not worth responding to.

He took a step back from both of the attackers, his breath heavy and rapid, clutching at his makeshift weapon, fully willing to use it again if either of them came within range.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The brown takma, staying well out of reach, began inching his way around so that he and his companion would be on opposite sides, but the indistinct figure halted him with a gesture. A hand withdrew the linking book from the darkness, and it was much more visible than the hand that held it.

"You have nowhere to go," he intoned softly, pushing the book back where he'd had it - possibly he was wearing some kind of robe. "I have the way back. And, even were you to take it from me, we have the other book as well; you would be surrounded and captured should you come through."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The other book felt very far away. Without numbers to the threat, An-uxhwi's state discounted 'surrounded and captured'. Without hard proof that they had even come from where Evrith was, rather than some other place that also led here, he wasn't willing to take their word for the other book, anyway.

But that the indistinct takma had the book that allowed passage to Avishraa, that was tangible and real, and a threat that made his heart ache gently. //Evrith!//

"Give it to me," he demanded, with an eerie fire of authority, ancient parts of his mind working out the angles at which to run forward to swing his weapon at this new threat. As long as they wanted to get to Evrith and the others, they wouldn't harm the book itself. He could fight them for it. A different part of him pointed out that he was likely going to lose. He ignored it.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The figure withdrew the book again, and examined it. "Oh, I see," he said. "You would like to have this?"

He opened the cover, looked solemnly at it, and then touched a claw-tip to one corner. At first it was difficult to see what was happening; something like a faint wisp of smoke or black mist appeared, carried away by the breeze. But it soon became clear that the cover was disappearing, as if it were being burned away without heat or light.

The brown takma cried out, but the dark figure ignored him. "If you submit," he said - gravely, without audible hostility - "I can stop the consumption. But if you would like to take the book from me, you have only so long to manage the feat."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|A soft noise escaped An-uxhwi as the dissolution began, some cousin of a distressed squeak. He clutched at the net until the knuckles of his hands hurt, his posture frozen, eyes wide with horror. He was dimly aware he had an ally in maintaining the book's integrity in the brown takma, whose own protest gave the whole scene a dangerous credibility, but there was no coordinating with someone you'd only just been on murderous terms with. He might as well have disappeared entirely.

For a brief moment, he flirted with the idea of executing the assault his mind had planned out, dive for the book before it was damaged beyond the ability to return him to Evrith, link out before they could stop him, but he could feel the window shrinking, the error margins compounding at a drastic pace, even as his instincts tried to keep track of them.

His heart hammered in his chest, seeming to hurt from exertion. "Please," he said, softly, and dropped the net, raising his hands and splaying his fingers, making it clear it was not an easy matter to pick his weapon back up. He was still ready to run, at least, if the book was destroyed, but fervently hoped it wasn't. He was still ready to run even if the book was not destroyed, for that matter, although his heart was certainly not in it.

Only slowly did a suitably intellectual part of his mind catch up to ask: //How?// A partial answer was 'magic', but purely by itself that was no answer at all.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The dark figure gently jerked his head toward the net, which the brown takmar, still looking frightened, dragged out of An-uxhwi's range; then, with a gentle gesture, the wisp of black mist cleared, and the book's cover ceased to diminish. "Good," the figure said. "Now: will you cooperate in being bound?"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|It had taken a long time for the question to surface in his mind, but it was finally here: //What do you want?// He dragged his tongue across the roof of his mouth, trying to self-soothe, not at all calmed by the insight that they evidently wanted him alive. "What's going to happen?" he asked, in lieu of the more generic question. If they were just going to truss him up to slaughter him more comfortably, maybe it was better to flee or struggle. Granted, they probably wouldn't tell him that, but the indistinct takma had an air of confidence; it let An-uxhwi hope an answer might be truthful. For now he took a step back, purely to make his apprehension unmistakably clear - not that it honestly needed clarifying.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"We desire information," the figure replied. "I would prefer, with a minimum of fuss, to have you taken back through - safely restrained - to help us obtain it - either through your own answers or through those of one with whom we have been attempting to communicate. I might be persuaded to free you once we have what we want."

He glanced down at the book again. "Of course, if you would prefer to remain here, I can destroy the book and leave. Your cooperation would be useful in resolving certain questions, but I can do without answers if I must."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|//Either through your own answers or through those of one with whom we have been attempting to communicate.// It didn't take much cognitive capacity to resolve that in his mind's eye: Evrith, in pain, somehow prevented from escaping - or, worse, choosing not to escape, in some belief that the suffering was just, or the least of all evils.

He had to get to her. He owed her that much. The only alternative in the current situation was to flee and abandon her - and he remembered quite intensely that he had promised not to do that.

He said nothing, but he stayed still, signalling that there would be no fight.}}

{{wst>shyriath|The dark figure inclined his head, and the brown takma began wrapping An-uxhwi up in the net - possibly with more vehemence than was strictly required, at least until a meaningful cough from the dark figure prompted him to take more care. It appeared that this... person, whoever and whatever he was, was in charge, and that he intended for things to remain civil. At least for the moment.

Though he was not entirely uncomfortable, it was clear that An-uxhwi's binding was intended to be thorough; his legs were wrapped up as well as any of the rest of him, and as the book was placed back where it had previously rested, the brown takma slung the xtauh over his shoulder like a sack and carried him over to it. A moment of disorientation later, the world reformed around him, and there, in the sky, was Daxelh's Gentle Eye, still in the process of opening.

He was in a small clearing. A small fire, lit in its center, revealed a number of takmar, men and women, most of them armed and all looking very wary; not a few of them had evidently raised their weapons as their compatriots and their prisoner appeared, and were only slowly lowering them. Many of them wore a carved wooden pendant with an unpleasantly sinuous pattern on it.

As he was carried over to a fallen tree and lashed to its trunk with rope, he noticed two things. The first was that Evrith did not seem to be present. The second, as the dark figure came over to him, was that what An-uxhwi might have thought was simply due to poor visibility was anything but. The people next to him were illuminated well enough by the firelight; the figure, however, was still swathed in shadow, as if the light was failing to fall on him. Only slightly more detail could be seen; his muzzle and face were visible, if only barely, though his eyes reflected no light.

"Your companion has been leading us a merry chase," he commented, in the same somber tones. "It was evident from the size that she - or at least some have said it was a she - is a witch. But I am curious to know what manner of power she has."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Relief washed over An-uxhwi - they didn't //have// Evrith, they only had him. They didn't even have Tikke or Unitti. It would be terrible for him, of course, he had no illusions otherwise, but Evrith had a greater capacity to be forward-thinking than anyone else, so he didn't think there was much risk that these thugs could use him as bait.

They would try, of course, which was precisely what made his situation so perilous. But as far as he reasoned, they would fail either way. Either Evrith would ignore them, or had enough information that she knew she could win.

The indistinct takma's final comment struck An-uxhwi as quaint. It wasn't difficult to realise that these were the characters that Evrith had seen trailing them and Evrith had made it clear it was specifically her whom they were trailing, which rather implied that they had to have known that she was special before. He found it hard to believe they didn't know she was a witch. He found it hard to believe they didn't know she could see the flow of time.

It hadn't strictly been a question, but it was generally not diplomatic to insist on the letter of the law, and if one was at risk of being helplessly savaged, it might serve to be diplomatic, especially if one thought the answer was harmless to give.

And so he spoke, albeit with a certain strain of stress from everything in his mind happening all at once, and said: "To her, time is a direction into which she can see as plainly as you or I can see a mountain in a distance." He dared to close his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a deep sigh to bridge to his next remark: "If I may - I could not help but notice you've referred to her as my 'companion'. Meaning no disrespect, you may have been misled by circumstance. I owe her my life and have travelled with her in an effort to repay the debt, but she owes me nothing."

Being no stranger to captivity, he sounded rather calm. He was sure that would end; all it took was them not believing his last comment and they had every incentive not to believe it. There was nothing to gain from believing it. Indeed, even if they believed it, they had every reason to pretend they did not, in case they were wrong to believe him.

In case //he// was wrong.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Somewhere in the shadows beneath the figure's brows, there was a sense of a long, slow blink. "Hmmmmmmm."

It was a very definite, emphatic "hmm".

The figure - An-uxhwi was more certain, now, given his shape, that he was wearing some kind of cloak with the hood pushed back - calmly perched himself at the end of the log. "What you say of her powers," he murmured, "explains much. I could tell that she had a way of perceiving us and of maneuvering away from where we were likely to go. I thought, perhaps, that she might have been another that the Master had touched, though that seemed unlikely, for any number of reasons.

"But a witch with the ability to see through time - yes, I think I start to see why our task was given to us." He looked steadily at An-uxhwi, then turned aside for a moment to speak to one of his followers. This one, a blue-and-gold female, was tall even for a takma and heavyset; she loomed even over the dark figure, and positively towered over An-uxhwi. She had been watching the conversation with a faint air of contempt. "Has the situation changed at all since I left?"

"No," she replied. "There's been some movement around the camp, but no more losses."

The figure nodded, and turned back to An-uxhwi. "Tell me," he continued, apparently setting aside the relationship between An-uxhwi and Evrith, "Is her journey, then, concerning something momentous that she's seen?"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|If An-uxhwi had been the type to say //D'oh//, now would have been the exact moment he would have said it. It took some effort to suppress the urge to be sarcastic in response. Instead, he gave a largely noncommital: "I believe so."}}

{{wst>shyriath|The figure's antennae twitched in what An-uxhwi, who by now had seen Evrith employ it many times, might have come to recognize as the faintest ghost of a cynical smile. "No doubt you wonder that we know so little of our target," he said - it was unlikely that he could read xtauh body language sufficiently to pick up An-uxhwi's attitude, but perhaps he could guess at it - and continued, "but when I was charged with this mission I was given an ability to sense her location but little indication of why she needed to be found."

He leaned in toward the xtauh. There was, this close, a faint scent, like the dead, dusty air of a closed-off chamber, or of a cold, snow-covered night. He asked, "And what does she seek? Something regarding a great disaster, perhaps?"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The way the takma asked the question rattled An-uxhwi. //You want the disaster to happen.// Given how poorly-informed these characters seemed to be, it couldn't even be of great interest to them //what form// the disaster took. But they wanted it to happen. It struck him as a bizarre desire; not that he hadn't ever witnessed anyone wanting destruction for destruction's sake, but these people had tracked Evrith for several vigils and they were speaking to him now, rather than breaking each one of his bones for their pleasure. These were not hooligans. The only alternative that occurred to An-uxhwi was that they were deeply, disconcertingly deranged.

He narrowed his eyes.

It shouldn't matter. They didn't have Evrith and they wouldn't have her. It didn't matter if he tickled the fantasies of these sociopaths or not. They'd already decided to pursue her long ago, guided by some 'master', no doubt some other seer, if not into time and only across distances.

And yet, he felt a deep urge not to answer, less out of some concern it would make any difference and more out of sheer defiance. It was rather at odds with that part of him that thought it was a good idea to continue talking.

He compromised. With a sliver of contempt in his tone that wanted to blossom into something greater, he asked: "And why do you seek destruction?"}}

{{wst>shyriath|The figure leaned back. There was a sense of satisfaction. "To say we seek destruction is something of an oversimplification, though destruction is a step in the right direction - a speeding along of something that will happen nonetheless but would take longer. What we seek is, in fact, progress toward a redressing of an ancient wrong. A crime. A theft, of sorts.

"And we mortals are normally poorly equipped to assist. Our activities are... small, in the great scale of what is being addressed. But we would not have been directed here if there were not an opportunity to make a bigger difference." There was a pause as a young male ran through the underbrush and leaned in to whisper something to the figure, who straightened up to hear it. He motioned to the tall woman, who idly took her spear and pointed it in the general direction of An-uxhwi's throat.

The young man ran back into the trees, and the figure continued as if nothing had happened. "I imagine the threat to the world must be rather dire, and your companion seeks to prevent it." He seemed to be making a point of continuing to use the word 'companion'.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Given An-uxhwi had already assumed they would not take to his commentary about Evrith owing him nothing, the insistance was unsurprising. Vexing, troubling for the implication of what it would cost him as their captive, but unsurprising.

"I am not the seer," An-uxhwi said, blandly. "I'm hardly in much of a position to tell you what it is she sees." It was the truth; while she had shared some things with her entourage, for all they knew it could be something else entirely, and the things that she said a fine fiction. It seemed unlikely that it was, for a number of reasons, but regardless, strictly speaking, he only had insight into his own mind.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"Mmmm," the dark figure replied, and then was silent for a time, looking off in the direction the young man had gone. Out of the edge of his vision, An-uxhwi could see that the body language of the woman aiming the spear at his throat suggested a certain impatience.

After a few moments, she began, "Ynudh-" only to be stopped by the return of his gaze. "I beg your pardon," he replied. "There was some movement. It's now stopped. But we may want a few more threatening the xtauh, just for extra... deterrence." The woman nodded curtly, and started snapping orders to others around the makeshift camp.

"You know-" Ynudh turned back to An-uxhwi, speaking conversationally. "-some very interesting things happened, when we forced the target out of the sky. She almost managed to leave our people behind, but when she dropped the book, she went back for it. I'm told that she made mincemeat out of several people using some kind of line of light.

"She has been circling our forces ever since, apparently looking for a way to get the book back - until we brought you here. Her movements changed when you were tied up. They ceased entirely when Kezadh here pointed that spear of hers at you. Rather interesting, given what you said about your ties to her. Or lack thereof. I suspect that she would find it upsetting if something were to befall you. I suspect, too, that she is watching us, in her own way."

In his mind's eye, the dark aura that represented Evrith began moving again, with a kind of agitation, even before Ynudh had finished speaking. Solemnly, Ynudh extended a clawed finger and, very gently, set the tip against An-uxhwi's forearm.

At first, there was nothing except the slight prickle of the claw-tip. But with shocking suddenness, the prickle turned chilly and began to build, becoming something like the stabbing of hundreds of ice-cold needles all in the same spot. A faint wisp of black mist began to rise.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|It took only a fraction of a second for An-uxhwi's cognition to go from an exasperated and tense intellectual 'here we go' to a visceral rejection that extinguished his thought process. His arm jerked against his bindings, and as they optimised more for keeping him tied to the tree than immobility, managed to displace by quite a few centimetres. He had not cried out, but it seemed like an accident, not a skill, instead replaced with a sharp breath.}}

{{wst>shyriath|As An-uxhwi's arm moved underneath Ynudh's claw, a line of pain was drawn across it; but the dark figure calmly withdrew his digit. The feeling began to fade, although - somewhere at the back of An-uxhwi's mind - there was a faint feeling, as of unseen eyes being turned on him, before that too dispersed.

In the flesh of his arm, there was a tiny divot where the claw had been held, and a line like a burn where it had merely passed over; blood began to well from it.

Ynudh stood up. "Causing pain," he commented mildly, "is not the best use of the power, useful though it often is. I do apologize." He looked off in the same direction as before, from which there was the faint sound of talking. "I think your companion may have had a change of heart about trying to retrieve you by stealth."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|As An-uxhwi's intellect recovered, it found itself immediately wondering whether that had been the most insincere apology he had ever heard in his life. It was certainly a top contender, made more bizarre for that he wasn't sure whether this deranged person was even //aware// how insincere it been.

A different instinct gave him a moment's distress - Evrith should not be putting herself in danger for him. But that passed quickly, letting him focus on the burning ache of his open wound, aggravated by impurities in the air. He grimaced. If Evrith was willing to put herself in danger for him, she knew how to make it work. No doubt he would have to help, much as he had during the uprising. It would be harder without communication, but if she thought it was possible, then it had to be likely that he would anticipate what was needed.

It was harder to understand why she would //bother//, but maybe he would be useful to her in future in some fashion no one person would, making retrieving him valuable. He didn't like the taste of the thought - it had the bitterness of hubris - but it was the only he could think of that made sense.

Unless...

Unless this was the best opportunity for her to rid herself of this alien threat entirely and the purpose was not to rescue him, but to sacrifice him in a //strategic// fashion. That, too, was conceivable.

But if Ynudh didn't realise any of it, An-uxhwi had no interest in bringing it to his attention. He seemed to be rather confident and his willingness to share information on Evrith's whereabouts could prove useful. Maybe he could goad Ynudh into revealing more of it. "Is that so? I wonder how you could possibly tell the difference between the approaches, if all you have is a location." It was easy to channel his pain into a tone of contempt. His hand had balled together, the tension an attempt to distract himself from the sting.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"This close," Ynudh replied distantly, "I can can see the shape of her. The posture. She is moving cautiously toward the perimeter but without any evident attempt at concealment." He seemed to have chosen to ignore his prisoner's tone. "Keep your spears at his throat," he added, speaking to the guards that Kezadh had gathered. "If she makes any sudden moves, kill him." His gaze remained locked in the presumed direction of Evrith.

After a while, Evrith was guided into the clearing by a pair of guards, who both very much looked as if they'd been tasked with handling a live cobra. When she came into An-uxhwi's field of view, she looked - the first thought was 'subdued', but a longer look suggested that this was woefully inadequate. She was wearing an expression that was not familiar to him, but which conveyed the impression that she was trying desperately not to panic. Her eyes darted around, in and out of focus, as if desperately sifting through futures.

She looked straight at Ynudh with a mixture of fear and revulsion, and stated, simply, "Let him go. He doesn't need to be part of this." Her voice was hoarse and, despite what sounded like a supreme effort to keep it still, quavered ever so slightly.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|As his understanding of Evrith's emotive expressions broke down, it came with a fundamental, immediate question: Had he ever understood them? Maybe he'd only deluded himself into thinking he could read them empathically. Maybe his purported experience was worth nothing at all.

But even absent a facial expression, her words were confused. Maybe the futures were all too tangled right now for her to see them clearly. And so An-uxhwi did what he thought was best and, in the tone of a matter-of-fact reminder, said: "I'm not part of it." Not panicking, not yet. She could still somewhate easily fix this mistake, if it was one, and not some very strange ruse.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"Are you not?" Ynudh replied mildly. "Yet here you are - both of you." He approached Evrith, coming to a halt just outside of arm's reach. "I am told that you can see the future. You must be able to see that I will not release him - not yet."

Evrith did indeed not seem surprised, but she tried nonetheless. "If you let him, I can cooperate-"

"If I let him go," Ynudh interrupted quietly, "I have no guarantee of your behavior. You may be able to see what I will do, but I have no such comfort. On the other hand: if you cooperate, I might be persuaded to release him //after// you are safely committed to the Devourer's care."

Evrith glanced at An-uxhwi, but said nothing. Ynudh stared at her. Then he added, in a much smoother, more persuasive voice, "And would that be so repellent? Life burdens you, more than most; I can smell it on you. Just a brief conversation, and then you will have no more worries-"

"I have things to do," Evrith whispered hollowly. She looked stricken. "It's not time yet."

"And yet I have your associate," Ynudh replied. Evrith stared into the futures she saw, and shuddered, suppressing the urge to scream. Or vomit. She murmured, "//After// I am dead, let him go. I'll cooperate."

Ynudh made a motion with his hand, and several of his minions cautiously approached with rope. Possibly, An-uxhwi thought, she might explode into motion at the last second, cutting them down - but no; she stood there, allowing them to bind her.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The situation made no sense to An-uxhwi. Indeed, Evrith still had things to do - she clearly knew it. He wouldn't judge her for changing her mind, but it hardly seemed like she'd done anything of the sort. More misreading of bodily cues? She couldn't possibly think //his// life was worth more than the fate of Avishraa as a whole. Even if it were somehow an emotional truth, she had made hard decisions before, ones contrary to her feelings.

Asking 'What are you doing?' was the least productive thing that could have left his mouth, though, and so he didn't, instead staring toward her with stern encouragement, the extension of his reminder from before: //I don't need to be part of this story. Don't let them manipulate you.//

The sting of the wound on his arm was interfering with the expression, but not by much.}}

{{wst>shyriath|There was not another log handy besides the one An-uxhwi was occupying, so Evrith was very thoroughly trussed and hogtied before being laid on the ground - well out of range of being able to easily reach him were she to get free, he noticed. She made no struggle.

He knew from experience that, though Evrith found it far more natural to use her... her cutting ability, however it worked, by directing it with her hands, she was quite capable of doing so without. She //could// free herself, if she wanted to, though maybe not instantly. Why, then, should she bother to submit to it? To lull them into a false sense of security? Or was she truly that concerned that he would be harmed if she didn't at least appear to submit to their security measures?

Ynudh leaned over her. "What disaster, then, are you trying to prevent?"

"There will be a person," Evrith croaked. "A witch. A figure in white. They will be able to unite the other witches and lead them against the rest of takmakind. There will be a war. And the figure in white will not be inclined to accept defeat, should they be unsuccessful. They will somehow - I can't yet see how - be able to unleash horrors on the world in order to avoid defeat."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know. I'm not close enough. All I can see is a flash of white."

Ynudh appeared to consider this. "And you want to - what? Find and kill this person?"

"Too far in the future. Everyone here will be dead or old by then. I wanted to try to leave a message or sign, something they could find early in life, to divert their path. Or find some way of //barring// the path before it could be taken."

"So," he replied smoothly, "at this particular moment, there is no better way to make those events more likely than by stopping you here, is there? Unless, perhaps, you could be convinced to use your abilities to make them //more// likely, instead of less." Evrith squeezed her eyes shut, and did not reply.

Ynudh stared at her for a moment, then strolled out of An-uxhwi's field of vision; but after a moment, somewhere near the tip of his tail, there was again the feeling of a storm of icy needles stabbing at his flesh.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|It came too sudden as that he could have braced for it, and so his expression contorted and the beginnings of a hiss surfaced from him, tension whipping through his body for an instant, before he clamped down on his teeth and tempered his reaction. There was an urge to squeeze his eyes shut and he resisted, narrowing them instead. His tail had done its own thing, following a reflex as though burnt - and in some way, burning was exactly what was happening. He pressed his tongue aggressively up against the roof of his mouth, hoping the pressure would help him resist the urge to whimper or wail.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"Don't!" Evrith shouted, but it was as if from a long way away. It had no effect on Ynudh, anyway; the sensation continued to build, from a trickle to a flow, and it was clear that it would continue to a torrent.

And as it continued, there was again, far stronger this time, the sense that there was something watching, some dark place all around him with hidden eyes, like a predator smelling blood in the water.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The pain was more disease or poison than it was a fire or a grating of flesh off bone, but it was all these things, regardless. The pressure in An-uxhwi's mouth helped, but it could only do so much for his tension and instinct. An exhale snapped out of his chest as something shifted, his eyes widening for an instant, then squeezing shut, and he cast his head back against the trunk, first straightening his spine, then arching it against the bindings. He imprisoned sounds within his chest, each like a fist's pressure against his throat from within. He lost track of his breath's cadence, too focussed on corraling his vocalisations, herding them together, trying to prevent their escape and - for now - succeeding.}}

{{wst>shyriath|And then, entwined and entangled with the unwholesome feeling of flesh being torn away, particle by particle, was a... scream. A song. A wail. It was not heard in the antennae but in the bones, the opposite of a sound, a terrible void on the other side of silence, a thing of malice and longing, loathing and hunger.

It demanded and begged him to heed it in a way that no such thing should, but there was no doubt that it was a hunting-cry.

The pain abruptly lessened. It was not gone - the substance of him was still being taken from him, somewhere toward the end of his tail - but the rate of it had been reduced. As the input from his other senses began to break through the pain once more, he became aware of Evrith shouting incoherently; but he could not see her, because Ynudh's face was taking up his field of vision.

"I must congratulate you," he commented mildly, "on your fortitude."}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Another thing that rapidly bloomed back past the decreasing pain was a flash of hot anger. Lips drew back from teeth in a split-second motion of threat display. It was hardly a conscious decision, but it was hard for his intellect to guide him when his body prioritised everything else more highly.

If his intellect had been allowed to speak at all, it would have taken note of Evrith's scream and noticed with great dismay that it was confused and that, perhaps, the world would end in a rain of fire after all. Instead, the thought occurred somewhere in his mind, fully disconnected from his consciousness.

Because it was his intellect, divorced from the emotions that insisted he snarl, it felt no sadness.}}

{{wst>shyriath|"And your stubbornness," Ynudh added without flinching, "misplaced though it is. But it won't help you in the long run, you know. You felt His presence, but He is always there. He waits for you.. Resilient or not, stubborn or not, He will have you in the end, one way or another, as He will all of us.

Evrith's cries had gone quiet, but as Ynudh pulled his face back, An-uxhwi could see her gaze, full of horror and tears, flicking back and forth between himself and Ynudh.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The rage was still there, rippling through An-uxhwi, seeking an outlet in vain - an animal, backed into a corner. Teeth opened and clacked shut again, a smouldering glare lingering on Ynudh. Had Ynudh made any demands of An-uxhwi, it would have been moot - the last minutes were all but wiped from existence and he would have forgotten it all.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Ynudh turned back to Evrith. "Somewhere in your howling I though I heard a promise to aid us," he said, "but after some consideration I think that it would be best not to take you at your word. A wasted opportunity, perhaps; but there would be too many opportunities for you to do something foolish, particularly since we would have to keep an eye on both you and your angry friend here."

Evrith's head drooped slowly, and she closed her eyes. She tensed, but said nothing.

Ynudh approached her. The darkness around him seemed to take on a life of its own, writhing and curling. He murmured, "There is no way to make it painless. But I can make it brief, so that you-"

Off in the distance, there was a sudden shriek, brief and cut off. Ynudh's head turned. So did those of the guards keeping their spears pointed at An-uxhwi.

A thin silver line materialized through each of the guards' heads, one immediately after the other; then another slashed through most of the cords binding An-uxhwi's limbs to the log. "Go!" screamed Evrith, as yet another line cut through her own bonds (she must not have had time to aim; blood coursed down her arms). "Get out of here!" 

Ynudh had turned back to her, and one or two of the other cultists around the clearing took their cue from him and began scampering toward Evrith; others, hearing the sounds of battle coming from their perimeter, rushed off toward it, or launched themselves into the air, where other shapes could be dimly seen flying against the darkening sky. For the moment, no one seemed to be paying attention to him, though it was hard to say how long that would last.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|The animal was fading now that nothing was actively savaging his tail any more, but it was still alive enough to tear free of the remaining bindings. Wings snapped open, the ache from the bruised wing so pale in comparison to the past minutes's horrors that his body chose not to remark on it at all, and he leapt forward, toward Ynudh, as though to tear out his throat.

But that wasn't what he did. Instead, landing near the monster with a xtauh's agility, he leapt into the air above it and flew, coming just close enough to be a maximum distraction to the beast at almost no threat of damage to himself.

For the moment, it was hard to gauge if he was planning to do it again, or if it had been a one-time affair to keep Ynudh from harming Evrith in the moment of chaos.

It was quite possible An-uxhwi didn't know, either.}}

{{wst>shyriath|An-uxhwi's low path took him immediately over the heads of Ynudh and those who'd rushed to join him, and his passage startled them enough that they failed to prevent Evrith from freeing her legs. She snarled, scrambling to her feet and neatly spearing one of the two cultists before slashing madly at Ynudh himself.

As An-uxhwi came around to face the scene again, he saw that Evrith's movements were frantic, even frenzied, as if attempting to overwhelm the dark creature with sheer energy. But beyond the fact that Evrith did not have the stamina to keep such a pace up for long, the silver lines she wielded as blades failed to connect with Ynudh; where they passed through the aura of darkness, they dimmed and disappeared, like a beam of light through thick smoke.

Whatever she was trying to do, it wasn't going to stop him.

Perhaps she was well aware of it, because she screamed, "I said //go//, Anuwi, damn you!"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Then An-uxhwi was upon the branches of a tree, rending a branch about the thickness of two fingers from it with his arms. A fresh pain shot up from his tail, higher up than before, and his body jerked in response, nearly sending him into a tumble. Instead, he converted the motion into one mostly to his benefit, landing back on the ground near Ynudh and his henchmen, swinging the branch. It didn't make for a good weapon - the leaves were still on it, as well as thinner, smaller branches, all of which would soften the impact - but it would still tap into takmar instincts and hopefully give Evrith more time to escape.

Any minute now, he might actually listen to her command.

But as it were, his self-chosen mandate was to protect her to best of his ability (even if she was arguably in a better position to defend) - not to listen to all of her instructions.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Whatever else could be said about Ynudh, he was fast to adapt. He caught the branch in one hand, where black mist began pouring off it; he swiped at Evrith with the other, though holding on to the branch limited his reach.

Evrith dodged back, turned, and sliced off a spearhead that was thrust at her, then impaled its wielder through the chest. She slashed at the dark figure again, as ineffectually as before; he opened his mouth as if to snarl something-

A blur hurtled through the air and slammed into Ynudh, sending them both skidding. It was a xtauh - an unfamiliar one - who was making an impressive effort to get his teeth around the cultist's throat.

In fact, now that, for the moment, neither of them were being attacked, they were in a position to notice that the clearing was now full of xtauh, and that a full-scale battle had erupted around them - here mobbing takmar with claws and knives, there forcing others out of the sky. Evrith stared at them blearily before turning to An-uxhwi and, somewhat ineffectively, trying to pull him away from the melee.

"You //idiot//," she told him, though her tone was more heartbroken than angry. "Why didn't you //listen// to me?"

Behind them, there was a horrible, gurgling scream as Ynudh's attacker found his face being dissolved away.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|His head swam. A kind of nebulously defined headache was blossoming in his skull, neither stabbing nor dull, conforming to no particular geometric shape that he could have identified. A haze. He felt himself stagger forward increasingly uneasily, unsure if it was because of another stab of pain at his tail or from something else his adrenaline had him neglect...

Dimly, he was aware Evrith asked a question of him - an admonishment of some sort - and he was even sure he had understood the meaning, at least in some past life from several seconds ago. He nodded acknowledgement, even though he was sure it hadn't been a yes/no question. If he'd been more with it, he might have done it proudly: //Yes, I am an idiot, but you're alive.//}}

{{wst>shyriath|An-uxhwi felt Evrith steer him behind a tree at the edge of the clearing and lower him to the ground; whether from emotion, exhaustion, or both, she trembled as she did so. As his surroundings started spinning, her muzzle filled his vision and her tongue started to swipe across his face.

Darkness began to close in, but as the world fled from him, he heard her say, over the sound of approaching snarling and shouting, "I'm sorry."}}