For the first break or so, Kisaik waited fairly patiently for his jittery Historian to arrive. Yet as the second break wore on, and Kisaik checked to see that indeed, yes, the suns had not yet come out even now, he began to worry just a little. The scales of blackened bark began to run up his arm and over his shoulder by now, but Kisaik was too engrossed in the waiting that he didn't really take notice.
Instead, he turned to the small booklet that Cassion had given him. He'd instructed him that he could use it to keep track of his many stories, and adventures. Kisaik then had a brilliant idea that he couldn't believe hadn't occurred to him before. He could compile the facts and happenings in the Sweetwine, the story he intended to tell Timmond today, in the book to make sense of them before relating them to his historian. Yes! It was a good idea, he thought. And so he took to writing down his thoughts on the most recent adventure, that one where he and a few others had freed the Blackberry from her imprisonment in the Sweetwine.
He titled this story "Half a Success is not Half a Failure. An optimistic title, that pleased him. Then he proceeded to write out his story in detail. Starting with the meeting with Wendy the fairy, and then the procession as he went on to meet the old Blackberry, Cage. There was the unpleasantness where he'd channelled his heroic moment to intercede on behalf of a fairy's defence against a crazed stuffed bear. Kisaik in a blue flurry, sped toward the oversized stuffed bear and pushed the fairy out of the way, taking the creature's bite, and redirecting it back at it.
Of course, Cage stood for none of this, and banished the stuffed bear from the woods. Thus Kisaik and his companions were left to the forest, and proceeded with the task levied upon them after partaking of the fairy food.
A lot of strangeness ensued, all of which Kisaik compiled in his written account of the event. As he wrote, he sampled the scones and muffins that were served to him and hi soon-to-arrive historian. Kisaik drank down some small thimble of tea as he washed down the muffins and pastries.
Eventually, however, he became quite aware that he wasn't feeling his best. There was a sense of something welling up inside of him. A feeling he'd not had since last Vhalar. Perhaps Baron Smooglenuff, Devin, was right about Vhalaritis! Perhaps Kisaik was suffering from the same now, only a arc late!
Whatever the case, he felt quite sick, which was unusual for a tunawa to feel at any time, especially when they were young and full of life as he was. Yet it was enough to stop his writing at the last word, and place his quill down. He dusted the book with some drying powder, and then left it there to soak it in until drying. Open to the page where all the strangeness unfolded.
As he lurched onto the table, one of the servers looked at him in concern, and gasped. Kisaik looked down at his body then, and saw what had alarmed her. All over his bark, darkness crawled like a creeping shadow, it's outline swallowing up all light and cheer from the tunawa. He felt very ill.
The server asked him, "Are you alright?"
Kisaik replied, his eyes gleaming purple as he looked up at her, "I don't feel so well... I think... I'm going.." Then he belched, loudly, letting out a huge ball of chaotic energy that fell upon his book.
Kisaik felt the shadows that had been enveloping his bark and creeping along his whole body dissapate in that moment. Then, he watched as something very odd happened on the pages of his book. The letters he'd wrote in Xanthean began to form into what looked like hieroglyphs, and then into the shapes of people, and other things. Scenes began forming on the lines of those scribblings, until they came to life, jumping from the page in glowing purple script.
Kisaik hopped onto his backfoot, wide-eyed at the strange anomaly. "Uh oh, it looks like it is indeed Vhalar the first!"
