• PM To Join • The very error of the moons

[Pash Raj'oriq]

52 Ymiden 717
long after midnight

The sea was dark but choppy, black waves rising and falling with enough force to jolt his body roughly against the starboard rail where he stood. The sky was dark, too, and starless with the thick layer of clouds that had rolled in a poetic slowness as the suns set with a larger than life fiery glow below the watery horizon. Pash would too soon have absolutely nothing to navigate by—while he knew the positions of the constellations, it was impossible to use them as a guide if he couldn’t see them. Worse still, the truth was the seafaring minstrel had no idea where he was going. Hand on the tiller, watching his sails flap in the wind by the strangely muted glow of the lantern, the tall Biqaj strained his gaze in the fading light before night settled in and saw nothing, just an expanse of whitecaps and water in all directions.

Wind tickled his face, picking up tendrils of his sun-kissed hair and tossing it into his vision. The suns sinking gave him a direction, and yet once they were gone, he’d have nothing else. His sails flapped without rhythm and his rigging creaked and strained. The sloop felt slower despite the force of what was behind it, and everything seemed quieter than it should be, dampened like the light that swung precariously from its place on his mast.

Reaching up to brush hair from his eyes, Pash let both hands leave the tiller, bracing himself for the effect that would have while he struggled to tie his hair away before the wind made it blinding instead of just annoying. It was then that he realized that didn’t seem to matter, that the sloop didn’t list or tilt despite the strong toss of the open sea, already tossed about but he’d not been having any effect on its direction whatsoever.

That was odd, obviously.

He stood then, confused, ducking under the jib line and running calloused fingers along the control lines that allowed him to change the facing of the sheet in the wind. The fierce rocking of the ship meant he was careful about his footing, but confident, hands finding ways to balance him as another tall white capped wave slammed the side of The Muse and rocked the little vessel with a hiss of spray over the gunnel. The seafaring minstrel reached for his lantern and looked about, casting its strangely dim light over the brined wood of his deck and over as much of his rigging as he could see, but saw nothing out of the ordinary other than that his sloop appeared to be moving of its own accord.

Raising the lantern up by his head, he turned toward the hatch that lead belowdecks, curious as to whether or not he’d find answers there, not at all thinking he had company this far out at sea in the darkness.

[Kali'rial]

The warmth of the campfire was a welcome and familiar comfort, flames flickering an orange glow across Kali's lightly freckled face in the light of the late afternoon sun. It would be evening soon, and she was settling in for the night, humming to herself as she strung her bow. Around her, the thick jungle forest sang it's evening songs. Crickets, birds and little animals made their final calls in the undergrowth a soothing chorus that the Sev'ryn barely noticed. She had been tracking a beast for a while now. Trials? Breaks? The timing was foggy, as though it was neither and both, and if the brunette lingered on the details of how she got to the campsite she would find those hard to fully recall. It didn't bother the huntress however, what did bother her was the tracks of her prey. Whatever it was, it was big and heavy, and unlike any she'd seen before.

It was important that she caught it though, that was very strong in her mind.

A woman's voice called her name, pleasant and happy, somewhere in the forest just beyond the camp. Kali'rial smiled and put her bow aside to stand up and follow the sound.

"Hello? Are you there?" The brunette called out as she walked into the tall trees, hands brushing gently against rough trunks with a carefree movement. When had she come back to Desnind? Had she left Scalvoris? That must have been it. She couldn't remember leaving, maybe she hadn't? Shaking aside the confusing thought, she glanced back at the campsite.

It had changed. The fire still burned but her tent was gone. Instead, it was the wagon. Piled with bags and supplies. It seemed unusually large, as though it was looming in the clearing, shadows being cast from it far darker than any coming from the trees. She frowned and turned back to camp, away from the trees. The woman's voice called her name again, but Kali had to go to the wagon.

She wasn't allowed to climb the trees with the others.

Moving closer to the wagon, the young huntress looked inside. It was empty. Just a wooden cavity. The bags of goods had disappeared, just leaving the dim interior. Frowning, she climbed inside and moved to the far end. It felt like she walked for breaks, each step taking longer than the last as the darkness pressed around her. Suddenly she was there, and at her feet was a handmade cloth doll. Kali reached down to pick it up, running a thumb over the face with a smile. This had been her toy, as a child.

Something outside of the wagon made a sound, it was a thick wet growling sound coming from the other side of the wooden wagon before her. Kali felt her blood run cold, heart racing with terrified adrenaline as she saw a shadow cross the firelight. Trembling, the Sev'ryn put her hand on the wood, leaning forward to look through a gap in the slats. Her breathing was coming in shallow shaky gasps, and the vision before her left the huntress frozen in fear.

It was a mouth, a huge mouth full of endless teeth and blood. So much blood streaming from the great maw and roiling around on dual tongues. She could feel hot breath on her face. She could smell the coppery blood in her nose. It opened up, wider than any natural animals mouth could, splitting open at the base. A sound came from the bowels of the beast, a hideous tearing howl that rattled in the Sev'ryn's chest. The woman's voice called her again, more urgently this time, an edge of panic to the tone.

Tripping over her on feet and dropping the doll, Kali turned and ran. She burst from the wagon, stumbling to the grassy ground with a cry. The beast was coming now. It was coming. Kicking to her feet, the brunette ran into the forest, catching flashes of horrific carnage as she went. Mutilated bodies and splashes of red. She could smell campfire and hear screams of agony. Breaking the forest line, she ran, breathless and scared senseless. It was behind her, roaring and thundering through the jungle behind her, smashing through trees as it went.

And suddenly she burst through the trees in the clearing. The campfire was burning and there was the wagon, piled with bags and supplies, sitting ominously larger than life. Kali stumbled to a stop, turning to look at the trees with gasping breaths and a frown.

"What...I..." The breathless woman stammered, resting her hands on her knees to gulp air for a moment, brow pulled into a confused frown. What had she been doing to be so out of breath? A woman's voice called her name from the forest, but Kali had to go the wagon.

She wasn't allowed to climb the trees with the others.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

A wash of hot air met his face as he opened the hatch that led belowdecks of his sloop. Raising his lantern high, the light it shed seemed hardly brighter than a fistful of fireflies, casting barely a ruddy glow on anything at all. He took the first step and then the second, only to feel leaves brush the skin of his arm and tickle his hair, realizing that Ellis, his loyal lemon tree, had grown to fill the entire cabin, branches and roots overflowing into the careful handiwork of his little seafaring home. Like some jungle tree, the once tiny potted plant was an overgrown monster, lemons the size of his face catching the light in their plump shininess.

“What the—” Lagoon blue eyes blinked in confusion as he stepped all the way into his cabin, ducking, the small space warm and humid and altogether strange. Unable to even finish his thought in Rakahi, he tried to see what he couldn’t understand. His lantern refused to fill the entire cabin with the light it should have, in fact, everything beyond the dizzying girth of Ellis’ trunk seemed plunged in artificial darkness. Unable to stand there and wonder, Pash carefully picked his way forward over twisted roots and broken pieces of pottery, the faint sound of birds and rustling undergrowth growing louder as he did so.

Darkness gave way to leafy, canopy-filtered moonlight where his berth should have been, and the tall Biqaj found himself standing in a forest unlike one he’d ever seen before. As if blown out by his own breath, the ruddy glow of his lantern snuffed out, leaving him alone in a warm, jungle like forest that was clearly wide awake now that the sun had set. The ground was still beneath his sandaled feet, and it took him a moment to adjust to the stillness as he’d just been taking steps on a rocking ship at sea—

The voice he heard was faint, but it was familiar. Distant and small, he still knew Kali’s voice in an intimate sort of way that allowed him to pick it out anywhere. But where was here? Why was she so far away?

He had no sense of direction in a forest. He couldn’t see stars and he was built by sailing instead of hunting, his body feeling extra clumsy with the thick undergrowth and humid air. Still, he began to walk in the direction he thought he heard the voice from, waiting to hear it again before he called out, lest he realize he’d been imagining things or attract the attention of unwanted animals hunting in the darkness he could barely see in. He mostly stumbled, calloused hands gripping at trees and branches; it truly felt as though the ground itself was seeking to slow him down, the undergrowth tripping him, clawing at his legs to make every movement that much harder.

He didn’t hear the beast at all, but he did hear Kali’s cry of fear.

“Kali!” He shouted back, in hopes of an answer, “Where are you?”

And why was he here?

The glow of a campfire hovered just at the edge of his vision through the forest. He could see it, much brighter than his lantern had been. Her voice had come from somewhere in that direction, and so Pash did his best to rush that way, falling and tripping more than once onto the damp earth as if the jungle was desperate to stop him from doing so, angry and alive like he was some kind of unwelcome intruder.

[Kali'rial]

Kali moved slowly towards the wagon, the wooden structure ominously looming with a dark opening like an abyss waiting to swallow all light and life. She reached the edge of the entrance, resting a hand on the wood to look inside. It was empty, all bags and supplies gone. The Sev'ryn frowned, a feeling of déjà vu swimming through her, as though she had been here before.

There was a voice then, back in the thick of the forest. A familiar voice that pulled the brunette's attention from the wagon entrance with a smile.

"Pash? Is that you? What are you doing in Desnind?" Laughing, the young huntress moved away and walked towards the woods. She reached the tree line pausing and looking around for a moment with a confused frown. That had most definitely been the Biqaj, his voice had become a beacon etched in her mind. Now though, it was quiet. Had she imagined him here? Slowly, she turned back to the wagon. There was a sense of dread when she looked at it, as though the huntress knew it was not quite right, but she was also overwhelming compelled to enter it.

Moving away from the trees, she reached the wagon again and stood at the entrance, before stepping inside. Time felt like it was slowing down, like she was moving through thick molasses. The interior of the wagon was dark and looming, and each step towards the back seemed to get her nowhere. Kali didn't want to get to the end, the thought of it made her break out in a cold sweat. She made to stop, to turn back, and suddenly she was there. A small cloth doll at her feet. The young Sev'ryn bent to pick it up with a racing heart. This was her toy, as a child. A shadow passed across the light on the other side of the wooden slats. Trembling, the brunette leaned forward to peer through the gap.

This time, the view was slightly different. It was a woman, or rather the top half of her. She looked similar to Kali, but with longer hair and a slightly older face. The woman was reaching out to the wagon, but her periwinkle eyes seemed to see past the slats right to the brunettes own gaze. The huntress breathed rapidly, her eyes wide. The woman pressed a bloody finger to her lips, before letting out a wretched scream. Kali turned her back on the scene, dropping the doll to press her hands over her ears and squeeze her eyes shut with heavy rapid breaths of panic. Another shadow blocked out the firelight. One that the terrified woman couldn't stop herself from turning towards. The sound was thick and wet, like soaked hide being pulled away from bloodied flesh.

"No, no, no..." The brunette whispered softly, even as she leaned to look through the gap to be greeted with the dripping toothy maw of the beast. Unable to hold back, the huntress screamed in unrestrained fear and panic, finally able to break away and sprint from the wagon. She jumped the edge this time, landing on her feet and running for the trees. The roar came then, a sound that Kali thought would be burned into her brain for eternity. She glanced over her shoulder, stumbling over something and falling hard to the ground. Scrambling over, she moved backwards with a hoarse cry as she realised she'd tripped over a body. A person. Or what used to be. Sobbing with a mad sort of panic, the Sev'ryn found her feet and crashed through the forest. She could hear the beast crashing through the trees behind her, voices screaming all around her. Trees scratched at her face and arms, more than once she stumbled on roots and foliage. It was so close she could hear the laboured breath of its running. A figure flittered past in her blind panic, but Kali was too petrified to notice who or what it was.

So close. So close...

Kali exploded from the tree line, falling to her knees with a long primal scream and covering her head with her arms. Crying hard, she cowered, waiting....for what? Slowly raising her head and lowering her arms, the Sev'ryn sucked in air whilst her heart felt like it would burst in her chest. She looked around the clearing with complete confusion, before crumbling into a tearful heap.

"What in Moseke's name is going on?!" The huntress yelled angrily, picking herself up and dusting off her scraped knees. How had she scratched herself up? And what was she doing on the ground. Turning away from the trees, she spotted the campfire and the wagon. It was piled high with supplies, and loomed like some unnatural being from another realm. There was a woman's voice from the forest. It sounded urgent, calling her name like a whisper on the wind.

Kali had to go to the wagon though. It seared under her skin, and yet somewhere in her deep subconscious she didn't want to take a single step towards the large wooden structure. She felt a brief surge of fear, fleeting like a leaf on the wind, before it was gone again. The brunette couldn't remember why she'd been soo scared, but now she had to get to the wagon. It was exceptionally important to get to the wagon.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Desnind? What? No.

They were in Scalvoris. His boat—

Why in all of Idalos would he be in Desnind?

He struggled one more time to crawl free of the undergrowth, wanting to call back to answer Kali but grumbling and fussing at plants instead. The dark green growing things that seemed to want to hold him back had torn at his legs, which were bare below the knees, and clawed at his tattooed forearms, which were bare and unprotected. Pash could see the fire clearly now, flickering through a few more trees that ended in a clearing. A dark shape was there too, a wagon perhaps. Everything felt vastly out of proportion, from distance to the strength of leaves, from darkness to the sounds of creatures inside the forest itself.

He heard a scream.

It rang in his ears and he was convinced it was Kali’s voice, and at first, in his rush to meet her, he didn’t hear anything else, only his panicked breath at first. Or so he thought. The tall Biqaj began to hear other noises too, strange sounds that rose above the normal nighttime sounds of the forest—voices, screaming, and something else. Something beastly and yet also wet sounding, something he couldn’t see at all and only heard as if he was walking right by it without ever looking it in the face. He scrambled to get away from the sound, but also to get to the screaming faster, unsure if maybe Kali was under attack or hurt or worse. He climbed over roots and clawed his way out of leaves and vines, still feeling as though the whole dark forest plotted against him. He had to get to the clearing and make sure everyone was safe, and make sure Kali’rial was safe.

Pash fell again, cursing, the undergrowth tangled, gnawing as if it had teeth, at his sandaled feet and his side smashing into a gnarled root. While he laid on the ground, twisting to free himself, he heard the sounds of something walking, something big, something huge and terrible, stalking the woods loudly and way too close for his comfort. So close was the creature he heard it breathing, ragged and cruel. He just couldn’t see it.

Finally freed again from all the plant life that felt more and more like it was trying to hurt him, stop him, suffocate him, the seafaring minstrel scrambled up and staggered into the clearing, opposite a wagon and opposite Kali’rial, who stood across from him and the clearing, looking confused, lit by the fire.

Moving to cross the clearing, Pash waved and called out to the lithe huntress,“Oi! Kali. Are y’ a’right?” The words came out but they traveled flatly, quietly, difficultly. It was as if they were traveling through a glass box. He tried to catch her attention, to get even a moment of her periwinkle eyes to glance at him, approaching until something or someone stopped him, wanting to reach out and touch her to let her know that at least he was there for her, if nothing else. She looked scratched up and confused, and while the tall Biaj knew her, he didn’t understand what was going on,

“Kali. Are y’ hurt?” The sounds that came from his lips were given full power by his lungs, and yet they sounded muted, flat and dull like his feelings, “Hey. Is this really Desnind?”

[Kali'rial]

The Sev'ryn huntress glanced away from the dark foreboding shadows that the fire cast off the wagon to look across the clearing, hearing the Biqaj's voice as though through he was the other side of a thick wall. Smiling as her gaze fell upon the man, Kali began to walk towards him, noticing the scratches and grazes on his legs and arms with a slight tilt of her head.

"Pash? What happened to you?" Her tone was confused, noticing now that her own voice sounded muted to her ears, like talking on the opposite sides of a rushing waterfall. Her smile dropped slightly as she moved towards him, noticing it was taking longer than expected to reach the sailing bard. Like her motions were all slowed down.

"Am I..hurt? What? Of course not. Why would I be.." Pausing, she looked down at herself with a frown. Her knees were grazed and her arms sported similar cuts and scratches to the man across from her. The raven haired woman looked up again, glancing around the clearing as though seeing it for the first time. Her periwinkle gaze moved back to Pash with a sudden thrill of fear and she tried to walk faster to him.

"No this...it's Desnind, but...it's not. It's not anywhere I can remember visiting back home. Yet...it's so familiar. I've been here." Shaking her head as though to clear it, Kali glanced at the wagon and stopped. Her stomach churned as adrenaline surged through her veins, causing her heart to beat rapidly in her chest. Swallowing hard, she turned a desperate look on the tanned minstrel with a trembling lip.

"Please help me. I have to...I have to go to the wagon." Even as she said it, the Sev'ryn began to move again, direction altered slightly to veer away from the Biqaj and head towards the fateful wagon. Somewhere in the trees a woman's voice called her name, the tone clearly worried. Kali came to a stuttering halt, glancing at the forest before looking at Pash again with clenched fists. She reached a shaking hand out to him, wide eyes begging him to stop her.

"I'm so scared Pash, so scared I want to cry and run as far as I can. There's...I don't know. Something's wrong here, but I can't stop myself. It's like a calling." Looking at the wagon again, she blinked, before looking back at him with a smile.

"It's my parents wagon, did I tell you that? I left it with Poppa when I made out for Scalvoris. Come on, we have to go inside." The brunette beckoned with her hand, indicating he should come to her and unable to break the loop that was playing out before them. Even now, hand outstretched, her head turned again to the wagon, close enough to the entrance to see now that it was empty again. The bags that had been there before completely vanished, leaving a dark abyss for an entrance.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

“Th’ forest, I’m no’ good ‘t walkin’ in ‘t, I guess.” Pash offered, half smiling, half serious, unsure of how to answer the question when he didn’t even understand what was going on. He didn’t want to say it felt like it attacked him, even if it did. She begged for his help, and then he heard someone else’s voice. He attempted to shoot a hand out to grab her, to pull her to him because she was clearly afraid and needed to be held, and yet it was like watching a ship sail against the wind, the motion of his hand denied its usual speed. Why couldn’t he just reach her? How frustrating it was to feel so slow and clumsy, so opposed by something heavy and invisible, like diving under the waves and grasping for fish. Her hand taunted him with its distance, and yet she seemed so bent on turning away,

“What? Wagon—no, we’re no’ goin’ there. You’re no’ goin’ in there, Kali, I don’ care whose wagon ‘t is. Maybe I can find m’ sloop. In th’ woods.” The words sounded stupid but made total sense, as if his sailing vessel should have a door that led to the forests of Desnind.

Yes. Total sense.

What? No.

This story felt familiar. As if he’d heard it before. Everything looked different from the telling, but he began to wonder if this was part of Kali’s childhood. Her parents’ wagon. Yes, he remembered. They … died.

“Kali, no. Please.” He caught her hand with his and held it, slowly curling his fingers into a tight grip and tugging back in his direction, desperate to have her closer to him than to the wagon, than to anything else in the clearing. Even the fire looked dangerous in the darkness, and his free hand moved to where his daggers usually were but they were gone, “Stop. I’m here. You’re no’ alone, so we’ll be safe. We’ve got each other’s backs, eh? Come to me an’ let’s figure this out together.”

He just wanted to hold her and find some way to get somewhere safe. This didn’t at all feel safe. He could feel it clinging to his tanned, inked skin like humidity in Suan before a storm: there was danger here. His lagoon blue eyes shifted from the dark-haired Sev'ryn's face to the darkness within the wagon and his stomach sank like an anchor had been placed in it. It felt no safer than out in the open. Whatever was happening, Pash wished he was armed to face it.

“What d’ you mean calling? What’s in th’ wagon? Why d’ you have to go there?”

[Kali'rial]

The touch of the bards fingers on her own was strange, like a peculiar sensation of feeling and not feeling all at once. The grip tightened, and as though floating through water, Kali felt herself pulled towards the Biqaj. Frowning she looked back at the wagon, before letting the flow of Pash's tugging guide her back to him. Standing before the out-of-place man, the brunette looked lost as she tried to break the cycle that was overtaking her, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.

"It's...I..I don't know. I think I've done this before. I can't remember." As Pash turning his eyes on the wagon again, the Sev'ryn followed his gaze to look into the abyss. Fragments of memory swam around inside her mind, forcing Kali to close her eyes and focus.

"There's something inside the wagon. It's...mine. It's a doll. A toy." Brows drawing together, the brunette tried to pull the fragments together.

"It's not safe in the trees..no wait...that's not right. I need to go inside because it's safe. I can hide in the wagon. Inside the wagon. I can see...something. Through the crack. It keeps changing, just a bit each time. There's..somethin-" Gasping the huntress' periwinkle eyes flew open wide and she gripped Pash's hand tightly. On the other side of the wagon, where the campfire burned silently, a shadow passed along the ground. Kali trembled and shook her head.

"Pash I want to go. I don't want to be here. I don't want to see this. Take me back to your boat, take us away. We were in Scalvoris, please let's go back." Turning her eyes back to him, the Sev'ryn was breathing fast, unable to control the terror that was building in her. She could remember it now, the loop she had already played through and the monstrous mouth that had chased her down. Taking a step backwards and pulling on the minstrels hand, Kali looked back at the wagon with a strangled sob as she tried to stifle the noise. The shadow was moving, followed closely by a second far larger one. From the end of the wagon a hand reached out on the grass, pulling someone's weight along. The brunette wanted to run away, but was unable to tear her gaze away.

Another hand, this one red with blood and torn up badly. The shadow moved a bit further. Vaguely, there was a sound coming to being as though fading in from a distance. Screams. Cries.

A roaring, growling sound occasionally punctuated by yelps of an animal in pain.

A head appeared then, dragged by the arms. A young woman, maybe not much older than Kali, with blue eyes and black hair. She was hurt badly, bleeding and groaning. The Sev'ryn made a sound of pain, turning away to bury her head in Pash's chest, unwilling to watch the scene unfold.

Shoulders now, before the woman rolled on her back, looking at the couple with a weary gaze. She raised a trembling finger to her lips, as though to shush them, whilst under the wagon a shadow moved again. The woman suddenly heaved bodily and cried out, a sound wrought with agony and fear. Kali pressed her hands to her ears and sobbed, tucked close into the Biqaj's body.

"NO! Not again, not again..." Over the weakening sound of the woman, the sound of muffled ripping could be heard mingled with the chesty growl of something large. Around them now, things had begun to materialise. People, either running or fallen down. Some were injured, others were dead or dying. There were also some that weren't whole. It was a massacre.

A sound faded in, a guttural male cry of rage, and suddenly the shadowy menace from the other side of the wagon was shoved into view as a tanned man with brown hair and a hunting knife threw himself onto it. Kali turned her head rapidly to look, screaming at the sight. Everything around them was moving in slow motion it seemed, as though time had slowed down to show them the full story. It was a massive dog like creature with thick grey hide and an insect like tail, cruel claws raking across the beserk man from large tree-trunk legs. Between the four legs it walked on, smaller useless appendages twitched. It took only a moment, before the beast had the man by the throat and he was thrown down dead on the grass. It lifted its massive head, turning to the wagon with a mouth that was almost endlessly filled with teeth. Somewhere inside the wagon, a small voice was sobbing words over and over in Xanthean, and Kali couldn't tear her eyes from the great maw that dripped red onto the grass. From the beast, there was a thick sucking sound on each inward growling breath, from somewhere deep in its chest.

"Pash. Pash. We have to go. We need to go. We're supposed to run." Kali whispered in a trembling voice, grabbing the Biqaj by the arm and tugging on it as though trying to get his attention.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Pash did not understand the resistance, how every time he attempted to move in Kali’s direction, it was like swimming against a swift current. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being an interloper, an unwelcome guest, an outsider as his people would say. He shouldn’t be here, and yet once he had the dark-haired Sev’ryn’s hand in his own, he had no intention of letting go. The tall Biqaj was here now, wherever here was, and there was nowhere else he was going without her.

As much as he was uncomfortable with the feelings she had stirred in him—the reminder of how much it hurt to care for someone, of how beautiful emotions could be instead of how ugly—he also longed for them with a hunger only an Empath truly knew. He didn't want to simply unravel love—That was the feeling, wasn't it? Aye, of course.—and store it away in a nexus, but he did want to prove to himself that it was possible to feel such a strong, necessary emotion. Magic, he told himself, had broken things once—well, almost twice—but he refused to believe that was always the inevitable outcome. He didn’t have to let the spark be his master, though what it would cost him to master his spark, he couldn’t entirely fathom, either. The seafaring musician was terrified that allowing himself to feel the truest depths of things, to be vulnerable as he had once allowed himself to be, would only lead back down the trade route to pain, to ugliness, to disappointment. The reward was worth the risk, he told himself, and somewhere inside, he knew it simply had to be true. This was that risk. He held the reward in his calloused fingers, not wanting to let go—

Kali’rial, tugging at him, snapping him from his emotional revere, stood before him and attempted to convince him they should go toward that wagon. His lagoon blue eyes glanced into the darkened depths of the disproportionately large wagon and his heart sank like an anchor in the hull of his chest.

No. No way.

“We’re no’ goin’ in there. Let’s find somewhere sa—” She squeezed his hand, confused, sifting through what was real memory and what was her own twisted story.

His tide pool gaze was caught by the motion, the shadow, and his pointed ears heard the sound. Shifting his focus, something—someone—was crawling from behind the wagon, bloodied and broken. The growling sounded like some wounded monster, as if whatever was obviously attacking was doing so because it was damaged. People, other Sev’ryn, began to fill the scene with their bloodied selves, victims both dying and dead. Pash began to realize what he was seeing—the scene Kali’s grandparents had spent the rest of her life trying to build a wall around and protect her from repeating. Or perhaps simply from remembering at all.

He put both hands on the lithe huntress, holding her to him even as he found it very hard to do anything other than stand and watch what was unraveling in his vision, terrified and sickened. This was more death than he’d witnessed in all his arcs and far more blood than he’d ever been near. Normally, he was sure he would have been afraid, that he would have had to throw up or at least be dizzy. Instead, while his heart indeed raced to get out of the hull of his chest, he felt something else—he felt brave. Not his typical Biqaj bravado, either, not the casual air of pretending to know what he was doing, of pretending he was more than he was, no. This feeling came from a different well; this desire to be strong and steadfast came from his heart and he didn’t have to pretend anything at all.

Then, just as he began to fully grasp at the strange emotion that seemed to hold him together in the face of so much chaos, there was the beast. It appeared from the other side of the wagon, a disgusting, hulking twisted thing. Pash had, thankfully, never seen anything like it before and hardly could process the teeth and the size of it. It ripped its way through people and had clearly tore the Sev’ryn hunting party to bits, leaving the child Kali alone in a sea of innards and broken bodies.

We’re supposed to run. Kali breathed in terror, trying to pull him into motion. This was a cycle, she said. Something she was stuck in. Something she kept seeing and could not escape. This is what woke her at night, what had her wandering the beach before dawn. This is what hid her boldness behind timidity and fear. This is what her grandparents had hidden under the guise of discipline. No amount of attention her parents could have paid that night on their hunting trip could have protected them from this. No preparedness would have mattered and yet Kali had been raised thinking that if she could do it better, if her discipline could be stronger, then something so horrible could never have happened. Clearly, her grandparents had not witnessed this monster that tore apart her parents (their child being one of them), but it was so burned into the dark-haired huntress’ memory that Pash was seeing it now.

“No.” The tall Biqaj stood his ground, “We’re no’ runnin’. We’re no’ gonna do what you’ve always done, Kali.”

His tone was firm underneath the fear that sailed upon its surface, and it was in this moment he realized that either they were not awake or something magically horrible was happening,

“This is what killed your parents? By Faldrun’s fiery ass, an’ you lived? Then, it were for a reason.” Pash couldn’t help staring at the thing, transfixed by the gore mangled in its gaping maw, the small voice of that terrified child she had once been heard from within the wagon above the monster's rasping breath. He steeled himself either for a fight or a conversation, unsure of what to do about the beast. He wanted to ask it what it wanted, why it was here, what had happened that night … but also he wanted tell it to get out, to go away, to flee lest he kill it barehanded himself right here and right now. The salty bard held Kali firmly, wanting to share with her his newfound reserve of inner strength and resolve, wanting her to feel something new. The boldness that he knew lay hidden beneath her shyness, that elusive inner self that he found so ridiculously attractive, Pash longed to reveal and shine like a torch into the eyes of the bloodied beast. That, surely, could have been a weapon Kali could wield in terrifying ways.

“We’re goin’ t’ face it, you n’ me. You don’ have t’ be afraid anymore.” I’m here, he kept himself from saying, and I won’t let anything happen because I care too much for you to allow it.

[Kali'rial]

The endless jagged teeth, the great splitting maw, the thick wet growl that filled the air with ragged breaths. Kali could remember it now, nightmarish scenes that she'd seen over and over for years that she'd brushed off as nothing more than a vivid dream or her imagination. Each night she'd woken in a cold sweat with nausea threatening to upend her stomach and heart about to burst from her chest, it had been this image that she remembered before the morning washed away the memory in preparation for the next one. Only they weren't made up visions, at least not the basis of them. They were born from witnessing this, the monster with the teeth massacring her people.

Her parents, Immortals...they were her parents.

Tearing her eyes from the horror that stood before them, the Sev'ryn stared at Pash with terrified shock. No? Listening with wide eyes and trembling hands, the brunette could hear the childish sobs of her younger self coming from the wagon. She darted a glance back at the beast, it was close to the wagon now, she could almost feel the hot breath on her own face. Choking back a sob, the brunette shook her head almost in defeat.

"I didn't live, it just didn't find me in time." Kali said in a hollow voice, knowing this next bit. Remembering now what would come, she wanted to cover her ears and run far away. Further than ever she could remember. Then the young Sev'ryn felt the arms around her, warm encompassing arms that were familiar and strong. Arms of someone that cared for her, that wanted to protect her from even himself.

Pash's arms.

Sobs receding, the brunette tried to gather herself, taking a deep shuddering breath followed by another. She looked up at him, staring down the beast with a fire she'd never seen before. It gave her a burst of something, a feeling that burned from within her chest that had been there for nearly a season now, unspoken by either of them out loud. A small humourless smile touched the Sev'ryn huntress' lips.

"Thankyou." She said softly in the curiously muted sounds of their voices, before turning periwinkle eyes back on the creature. It hulked, huffing against the wood of the wagon, before opening its great mouth wide to let out a tearing roaring growl that echoed around them. It shook the very ground they stood on and overshadowed all other noises. Kali pulled herself away from the seafaring bard, her hand holding his tightly as she turned to scream back at the aberration with all the anger and fear and pain she had pent in her, drawing strength from the knowledge he was there with her. She wasn't alone. The beast turned then, looked at them with noticeable recognition. Before they had been part of the cycle, part of the set storyline. Now they'd broken free, and the ghoulish mongrel saw them for the oddity that they were. It roared again, the sound maybe less strong then it had been before. Taking another deep breath, the huntress screamed again, a word of defiance. The same one Pash had used on her.

No.

The sound broke through the strangely muffled air around them, and before the couple the scene froze. The beast paused, mid roar with legs beginning to move into a run. People were captured sprinting from a distance towards the monster, barely children themselves with knifes raised and arrows fired, some of which hovered in mid air. The brunette panted, looking around with confusion before turning back to face Pash. It was completely silent.

From beyond the tree lines, a woman's voice called her name. A very familiar, very loved voice. Kali blinked and looked past Pash, her periwinkle eyes lighting up with a smile.

"Nonna?"

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Kali sat bolt upright, wide awake with heart racing and sheets tangled around her legs, lost in the dark as her eyes adjusted to remind her she was in The Muse. Glancing around the room, she breathed heavily, her mind trying to pull itself away from the dreaming state to reality. They weren't in Desnind, it was still Scalvoris. It was still some time in the early dark breaks of morning, the sun not yet even a thought on the horizon. Suddenly, she felt around in the dark for the warmth of the musician that she had fallen asleep with.

"Pash? Pash?!" Her voice was urgent, panicky with a desperate fear that he might not be there.