The Grey Wars

[antiaircraft]

((I think Crash will be back soon enough))

 

After traveling for several hours, Orel arrived at a perfectly circular room carved deep in the mountain. Nobody had been able to pass the barrier that protected this room before, but as he walked towards it, the artifact glowed a gentle blue, and Orel sensed that the barrier had dropped momentarily. He walked in, and he sensed the barrier shimmering into existence again behind him.

 

The room was covered in ancient telepath inscriptions, which Orel stood examining for several minutes. It was a puzzle, and one that would be difficult for anybody who had not had telepath lore taught to them from a young age. Finally, he knelt down and placed the artifact in one of the 13 sockets in the room. It fitted perfectly, and the entire room started to glow with the same gentle blue light.

 

Orel stood up, and a mental projection appeared in front of him. It was of a young telepath in his prime ((about 500 years old)), dressed in armour and with several weapons strapped to his belt.

 

Hello and welcome. If you have found this stone, discovered this room, and successfully solved this puzzle, then you are either the telepath this message was intended for, or an incredibly lucky person. Unfortunately, we cannot let this information fall into the wrong hands, and I must ask you to swear an oath that this information will not be misused.

 

Orel barely hesitated. I, Orel-hin, telepath of the northern grey temple, hereby swear that the information I receive will not be misused, but employed only for the good of all life on the peninsula.

 

The telepath in the projection frowned, apparently considering, and then smiled. Good enough - of course, I didn't actually hear your oath, but this stone has analyzed it and deemed it sufficient. Now, unless we have made a grave error, then you are currently in a time of turmoil and conflict, directly after most of our race was wiped out of existence. The humans, and alas, the mages, have formed a temporary alliance to attempt to completely wipe us out, but in a matter of hours, after they realize that there are not enough telepaths remaining for them to effectively hunt, they will turn on each other once more. If this is not true, then I order you to destroy this stone right now, as a grevious mistake has been made. The telepath in the projection paused.

 

Very well, it seems that our sad predictions were in fact true. Now, one of the functions of this stone, as I'm sure you are well aware, is as a powerful weapon. Whoever wields it will be able to greatly amplify or reduce the effects of magic at will, however, the true power of this stone lies in the knowledge it contains.

 

As you have been taught from childhood, the one thing that every telepath holds pride in is that no telepath has deliberately killed another living creature. I'm asking you to forget that. Many thousand years before your time, there was a great telepath war, one that decimated and reshaped the world. The mountain range you are standing in now is a result of this war. During the war, the Order of the Blue Moon was established to research how the abilities of a telepath could be used in combat. I am a member of this order, which has been officially disbanded for some years now, however, we foresaw that the knowledge we compiled would be needed in the future, and thus we created this artifact.

 

The techniques within this stone will take many centuries to master, but once you have done so you will become immensely powerful. Not even the awesome might of a thousand dragons will be able to stand against you. This conflict will continue for another four decades, and you and your friends will be the ones to stop it. Young one, are you ready to learn the secrets of forces of the world, are you ready to acquire power that will make you the most powerful person in history, are you ready to accept the burden, the responsibility to end this conflict, no matter how grievous the consequences may be?

Orel bowed his head. I am.

 

Then I welcome you to the Order of the Blue Moon.

[Midtime]

Jisparienterae lay, thinking, in the sleeping bag that Orikan had produced.

He could still hear the tinkling of the slave cuffs as they shattered to the ground. He looked at his hands, rubbed raw from nine years of continuous squeezing. He had stopped noticing the pain of the tight cuffs a long, long time ago, and he only noticed it had been there again when it had gone.

His train of thought went to the bag he was lying in. He had never actually seen something designed for the purpose of sleeping on since he had been snatched from the safe, warm world of the city.

Then he thought of Orikan's voice, the voice from so many years ago, and after that what he'd actually said.

This was the first time they had talked about current events; his blissful, rambling talks as a three-year-old had never been about anything of even mild importance.

He thought about Orikan's last words before they had turned in; Tomorrow we will begin training. Magical training!

The hopes and wishes of being able to be like his parents returned again. Now he knew it wouldn't all happen in a flash and a bang - the training, like all other kinds of training, would take several years - but the prospect still excited him.

And there were the dragons. It was so unnerving to be close to creatures that seemed like wild beasts, yet had intelligence as great as that of any human, perhaps more so.

 

Then Jisparienterae's thoughts muddled, faded and disappeared as he drifted off to sleep.

[antiaircraft]

Orel sat cross-legged in front of the stone, maintaining a perfect mental balance as centuries of combat techniques poured directly into his mind. He needed the focus if he was to remember it all. Excitement had lost its meaning to him many decades ago, but this was the closest he had felt to it since. Still, it was not excitement, but more of anticipation.

 

Once his learning was complete, his training would begin. He would entrust the stone to Orikan - it would complement his abilities almost perfectly. And from there, they would move to bring peace to the three races of the peninsula. The only thing that worried Orel more than usual was the Turn'stalé. He had sensed unrest in the ones he had met, and some of their brethren nearby. If the dragons were taking council for war, there was no knowing what would happen.

[Crusher]

(I just want to say that the story you are both weaving is most impressive. I'm really enjoying reading this, and it is an honour to be able to be a part of it too.)

 

It was sunrise. The sun sat on the rugged terrain outside the temple, glowing a brilliant pink in the morning mist. Orikan was meditating, focusing his powers to contact his ancestors. He was seeking advice, and he found it. An ancestor from 372,000 years ago had spoken to him. Orikan knew Orel, as a Telepath, would want to resist warfare, but what the long dead man had told him was astounding. Bloodshed, fighting, carnage. And all between the Telepaths. Shocking.

 

Orikan began to walk back to the temple in a state of disbelief. "There are troubling times ahead, and little time before they begin. Time. What is time? What does time mean? Everything revolves around time, even the world I stand and live on. Life. Why do we live? What is our purpose?" Orikan shook his head softly, clearing his thoughts. He had much to think about, and no time to waste on unanswerable thoughts. Jisparienterae had much to learn. He had near to no magical abilities as of yet, and would soon be thrust into all-out war. He would die, and Orikan would not allow that to happen.

 

Suddenly he was hit with a flood of memories from his dreams of Orel. "A Temple...stone...Telepath...secrets...oath...blue moon...power." He understood. "It is all over, yet it has not yet begun." He remembered the phrase from his childhood, the only thing in all his young years that had ever confused him. He understood. Everything made sense now. Jisparienterae, Orel, the Dragons. The Dragons! He had not yet told them of Jisparienterae! He flew, quite literally, back to the temple, his heart pounding harder and harder. he reached the temple just in time to stop Jisparienterae becoming a roast. The dragons had him backed up against a wall, and he was screaming. "Vinnie! Stop! STOP! I order you!" He threw a force field around Jisparienterae, protecting him. The dragons immediately terminated the hunt as their leader howled her orders. "His name is Jisparienterae. He is a friend of us. Do not ever attack him again, or I will have your head!"

 

"It was a misunderstanding...do not be angry, Orikan!" She was close to tears at the thought of Orikan attacking her.

 

"I understand, Vinnie. You know I would never do such a thing, you just frightened me." His voice was softer now, caring. "Perhaps you would care to help Jisparienterae train later, but first ask you to swear an oath. This is only as a precaution from the great war, nothing more. Do you, and your pack, swear to not harm Orel, Jisparienterae, myself or any being under our friendship or protection so long as you live?

 

"We swear."

 

"And do you swear to never conspire against or fight Orel, Jisparienterae, myself or any other being associated with us on pain of death?"

 

"We swear."

 

"Excellent." He threw his arms around Vinnie's neck. "Don't ever make me have to enforce that oath." He looked at the shaking figure of his friend. "Don't panic, Jisparienterae. They thought you were an intruder! They're probably getting a bit hungry anyway, let's go find some food. Afterwards we will begin training." Orikan never noticed that the green dragon at the back never swore the oaths, and he would live to regret it.

 

They hunted for awhile, with Orikan riding a blue Dragon called Manacarn, and Jisparienterae riding Vinnie. Soon Vinnie and Jisparienterae were fast friends, chatting happily. Although they could not yet understand each other, Orikan acted as a translator, pleased that they got on so well. They eventually found a herd of grazing caribou, and the dragons descended on them greedily, munching with delight. The Dragons gurgled with delight, and even started doing tricks in the air, before Orikan ordered them to stop on account of Jisparienterae turning a strange shade of purple. On the way back, Orikan realised that he now knew each of the pack except for one dragon, a lime-green one which he had never spoken with before. He asked Vinnie what his name was.

 

"Ah, that's Nessatun. He's a loner that keeps to himself, to be honest I don't know him that well either. He joined us recently."

 

Orikan flew Manacarn over to him, and attempted to introduce himself. But halfway through, the dragon grunted and flew away, apparently angry or uncomfortable. "Strange. Very strange..." He did not think about it again for some time.

 

Back at the temple, Orikan dismounted Manacarn and instructed Jisparienterae to do the same. They began immediately, trying to not be caught up in good times and let the work be forgotten. "Most Mages have a secialised area of magic, such as healing, defence, offence and various others. You will need at least a year before you have learnt enough to choose a particular learning area, so I will educate you on all these subjects using a wide base of skills. Your first subject will be on control of the elements. This will include fire, water, ice, earth, nature, stone and metal. We will begin with ice. This is the most basic element to learn, as it can be easily directed and controlled. You hand is your 'wand' if you will. We do not use actual wand like in the Human's stories, instead we use our bodies. Using both arms will increase the power of your magic, and using various movements will cast various spells. Your first task is to freeze a rock that I throw into the air. You have three tries, if you cannot complete it by then I will have to go into more basic training. To do this, point your hand towards your target and say "Somices Alunca Humaciana". We will begin." Orikan threw the boulder over Jisparienterae's head, and Jisparienterae tracked it with his arm. He chanted "Somices Alunca Humaciana," and a beam of power shot from his hand, hitting the boulder dead on. He froze it solid, glistening in the daylight, before it hit the ground splintering into millions of shards of ice, melting slowly. "Incredible. Perhaps this will be easier than I thought! Well done Jisparienterae, you will be a truly powerful Mage one day."

 

 

Crusher

[antiaircraft]

((It's not just us, everybody in the roleplay has contributed to making it this good. It's an honour to have everyone helping me to organize my pool of ideas))

 

After several hours of sitting in a meditative position, Orel almost felt relieved to stretch his tensed muscles. Very good, said the telepath in the projection, Now, you may use this knowledge at your own discretion, but bear in mind the oath that you took. You are a telepath, and a telepath's word cannot be broken. I have one final thing to say to you: during the telepath war, there was a small conflict between the telepaths and the Turn'stalé that went unnoticed for many years. The Turn'stalé begrudge us for the death of their kin, and I have foreseen that many will come together to oppose the telepaths and all other races of the peninsula. If this unfortunate turn of events occurred, I wish you to deliver this message to them: Aürles of the mountains is ashamed of them.

 

I will deliver your message, Master Aürles. Orel was surprised, but only mildly. Of course it had to be a legendary telepath who had created the artifact.

 

Thank you, young one. Aürles chuckled. Indeed, I am ashamed of them after foreseeing what they will do. Go forth now, and do your best to quell this conflict - do your best.

 

The image faded away, and the room's glow faded away. The stone kept glowing until Orel picked it up, and headed out of the room. However, one thing Master Aürles had said stuck in his mind. Do your best, he had said - but what if his best wasn't enough? The phrase had meant something, he was sure of it. He passed the thought to his subconscious to unravel, focused his conscious mind on some familiar presences. These were the minds of the forces that governed time and space. His practice began now, even as he headed towards the surface.

[Midtime]

((Yeah, thanks. But I would appreciate it if you didn't control my character so much, even if I haven't been going on very often.))

Jisparienterae was delighted with his first attempts at magic, even though he was still feeling slightly sick from the ride. His mind was whirling with the amazing things he had already managed. He'd frozen a stone, and then a tree. He'd charred another stone, singeing Orikan's hair in the process - oops - and conjured up water to put another (accidental) fire out. Smiling for the first time in years, he followed Orikan's teachings, blissfully untroubled. He was doing things he'd never dreamed of doing.

He conjured a floating ball of fire and made it shoot around as he wished, and then made it explode - singeing the other half of Orikan's hair.

[antiaircraft]

Orel pushed the minor irritation he felt from Orikan to the back of his mind as he sat in an empty room in the temple. He focused his attention completely on the pebble in front of him. First he levitated it to a height of 1 meter, a simple task. Now the hard part: he dove into the minds of the forces of nature, and unsteadily at first, then with more surety, he disassembled the pebble into minute particles, scattering them around the room.

 

Finally, when he had pulled the last two particles (so small that they could not even be seen under a microscope) apart, he floated his mind back to the real world, and stood. It had taken him a third of the day to disassemble such a small object, and the sun was now beginning to set. Still, he felt almost elated. The path of the sun across the sky begins with the smallest sliver of light emerging over the horizon. Now, to give the stone to Orikan.

[The Original Luna]

Rathunta and her group had managed to track down Warden, who was suprisingly, unharmed and half-awake.

"Where have you been Warden?" Rathunta asked, close to annoyance.

When Warden did not reply, she asked "Never mind. Are we any closer to The Book of Days?"

Warden nodded, "We're about thirty miles south-east of the location. According to legend, the Book lies 'in wake of the greatest danger'.. I don't know what that means, but I do know we'll be very close to the king's capital, and that'll endanger ourselves greatly."

Rathunta slowly looked at the ring she had taken from Lord Sealamain, It was part of a clue, the letters, "B W R D N G R SLVR", snapping out of a trance-like stare, she lead them on south-ward, riding with them all together, covering almost six miles that night.

[Crusher]

(Sorry AA3, I didn't mean to annoy you :()

 

Orikan waved away the fire, and summond a mirror to inspect his new haircut. He had never thought of himself as a skinhead, and quickly conjured his old one back. "No damage done, Jisparienterae, but that was truly incredible magic you displayed, well done indeed. Now, for your next task we you will learn healing and defensive magic. Which do you choose to learn first?"

 

Cameron

[antiaircraft]

Orel levitated up to Orikan, levitating the stone beside him. Here is something to tinker with while teaching Jispar his spells. This object will allow you to amplify or reduce the power of any magical effect in the vicinity at will. I hope it will serve you well. As for me, I will spend the rest of this evening playing with rocks. With that Orel levitated into a corner, beside the remains of what had once been a grand pillar, closed his eyes, and focused.

[Midtime]

((Nah, not really annoyed. You came up with good ideas.))

 

Jisparienterae wondered. Healing or defensive? Perhaps... ((This is the one I would choose in any RPG))

It made sense. No matter how strong your defenses were, it seemed, the opponent could wear you down. He thought of the humans' defenses, a haven become a hell if the opponent blocked the only entrance. Defense did not allow you to move. Healing, on the other hand, he reasoned, would allow you to constantly recover no matter what happened, and run away.

He decided. "I'll do healing," he whispered to himself, then turned to voice it to Orikan - just as a prehensile, muscular green tail wrapped around him and pulled him into the forest, following its owner - the green dragon.

((Is this last bit okay? I'll edit it if you want.))

[antiaircraft]

((Yup, it's fine))

 

Orel was too deep in concentration to recognize the disruption in emotions around him. His attention was focused on the pebble levitating in front of him as he disassembled it. It was already dark, but he had managed to break down his second stone within 3 hours. Now he hoped to improve on that, and disassemble this one within one hour.

 

At the same time, he was practicing another new technique he had learnt. Surrounding him was a bubble of nothingness, a vacuum that sucked in anything that tried to pass through it, and deposited it in the middle of a world high in the sky, where not even air existed. Practicing one new offensive and one new defensive technique at once, in addition to sending the individual particles of rock into his protective bubble, was taking its toll, and although he showed it only in ways only another telepath would recognize, he was becoming tired.

 

((The only thing that can physically outmatch a dragon in single combat is another dragon or an incredibly powerful mage/telepath. Telepaths and dragons, however, rarely fight, although a few members of each race hold grudges against the other.))

[Midtime]

Jisparienterae was helpless as he was dragged into the forest - all he had learned in the past few hours had dissipated from panic. He could not move; the dragon's tail gripped him too tightly, which meant he could not have aimed even if he had remembered any of the words.

Eventually he was thrown unceremoniously onto the ground in a small glade, filled with the skeletons of various large animals... and humans... and mages.

He looked up fearfully to find the dragon growling hungrily down at him.

[Crusher]

Orikan looked for a split second in awe at the dissaperaring dragon, before rocketing towards it, suddenly filled with hatred and immense fury. How dare this dragon, who had sworn to not hurt us, who had sworn to fight with us, assault an inexerienced Mage, moreover his friend! How dare he, when Orikan had provided food and shelter. He would pay. Dearly. "VINNIE! VINNIE GET HERE NOW!". He jumped on her back, explaining as they flew. "It's Nessatun. He's got Jisparienterae, and he's escaping, fast. I can't freeze him from this distance. Get a bit closer, I'll soon stop him."

 

"There's just one problem with that, Orikan."

 

"What?! There is no problem! We just need to catch them. Hurry up, we'll lose them at this rate!"

 

Vinnie's voice had turned sour and twisted. "There is a problem, Orikan. Me."

 

He felt a slam on his back, then a burning, throbbing pain. There was blood dripping down his arms, and he fell, gracefully, and close to unconscious, to the ground. There he lay, sore, bloody and broken. He couldn't move, all he could do is struggle to speak to Jisparienterae in thought. "Jiispaariieentteraeeee...remember...Dragons...fire creatures...use Ice Spellss...focuss...get Orrel...forest...Vinnie...traitor...unsafe...save...the stoneee..."

Then everything went black. His eyelids fell, and he collapsed.

 

(He's not dead, he's in a coma)

 

Crusher

[Midtime]

Running, Jisparienterae attempted to collected his thoughts as he heard Orikan's cry. Dragons use Ice spells? he thought, then took a blow from the dragon's tail that would have knocked out anyone but a mage slave. He had grown up in a place where you were expected to work if you only had half your guts remaining. If you stopped, you were beaten. If you died (usually because of the beating) you were replaced.

He picked himself up, popped his dislocated shoulder back into place, and continued to run.

Then he managed to collect his thoughts, and realized what he had been told. Oh! Use ice spells on the drago-

A pair of purple-skinned jaws (none too gently) picked him up ((Vinny's skin is purple, right?)). Then he realized the other thing Orikan had said. Vinny is a traitor!

Use an Ice spell on the dragon...

Ice spell... Ice spell...

He finally remembered.

"Somices Alunca Humaciana!" he cried. Vinny's jaws froze, and he squeezed his way out.

Were the others in it too? Jisparienterae didn't want to find out.

At that moment, the dragons unleashed their most infamous weapon - fire.

Two streams of it passed him so close by that they singed his hair, and some horribly calm part of his mind thought ironically, My turn.

"Somices Alunca Humaciana! Somices Alunca Humaciana!"

The two ice spells intercepted two simultaneous balls of flaming inferno and neutralized them.

Got to save Orikan...Jisparienterae thought incoherently.

 

Got to find Orel...

 

But where is Orel?

[antiaircraft]

The sudden chaos penetrated Orel's current state of concentration and snapped him back to the present. He quickly realized what had happened, and before he could control it, unstoppable rage flooded through his mind. His experience from the past 320 years of his life had paid of well, and he simply assimilated the force of the anger into his body, replenishing his drained energy reserves.

 

Turn'stalé are incredibly proud creatures - to break an oath like that is simply... unthinkable to them. Orel dug deeper into the memory of the dragons. Outcasts? That explains it. I should have anticipated this. The Turn'stalé are mighty, and value their honour highly, but that only makes the case of a harboured grudge worse. At least it seems that they are putting their intelligence to use - planning to ally with the mages and humans to wipe out the telepaths, and then take care of the other races themselves. All right under the noses of the other Turn'stalé, who would be too worried about their own honour to interfere.

 

Orel opened his eyes to find a dragon staring him in the face. "Hello, telepath." It snorted disdainfully. "Ready to die, along with the rest of your traitorous race?"

 

I do not feel particularly enthusiastic on that point. Orel answered. However, when you and your pack awaken, tell your outcast council that I have an important message for them.

 

Hechráe - the art of inducing unconsciousness. It had often been used by telepath scientists to pacify angered subjects, or to get past guards for various reasons. Orel had been introduced to it in a new, powerful way that could be deadly if not properly controlled. Reaching out, Orel fired of a precisely tuned mental blast that overloaded three nerves in the brains of his targets. They dropped unconscious, and would remain that way for days until those nerves healed. Orel's satisfaction at the execution of this technique disappeared as he realized that he had also knocked out Leron, Orikan, Jispar, all the human and mage soldiers in a nearby camp, and five hundred or so small mammals. One who uses not learns not. Orel thought to himself as he reached out to revive his friends.

 

((Do you like my spoofs of common sayings?))

[Midtime]

((Well... they're... interesting.))

 

Jisparienterae woke up to find the dragons who had been chasing him unconscious. What just happened? he wondered.

He stood up. Have to find Orel.

He ran back in the direction he had come, using a water spell to open a gap in the forest fire that was spreading. He burnt his feet walking on the ashes, but that didn't matter.

[antiaircraft]

((Meh, I like playing with words))

 

Nice to see you're awake Jispar, Orel said, I'm back at the temple. Orikan is a few meters to your left, hidden by the undergrowth. I think you should carry him back here. The Turn'stalé will not be harmed by the forest fire, so you may leave them.

[Crusher]

(Vinnie wasn't any colour as of yet, so I guess she's purple now. The other two Dragons were lime green and blue respectively)

 

Orikan found himself in a world of nothingness. He could not move...where were his arms?! Where was his body? He could see nothing! He felt suddenly frightened, and tried to escape his black prison. He tried to cast a spell, but he couldn't speak. He tried to fly, but he had no body. He tried to run, but there was no ground. Nothing made sense. Confusion. Worry. Dispair. And then it hit him. He remembered. The chase. Jisparienterae. Vinnie. VINNIE! THE TRAITOR! He tried to think, but it was hard when he had no head. Nothing existed. "Am I dead? No. My mind is trapped in a coma. I am probably doomed to this blackened place in my damaged mind forever, unless...unless I am healed. The only one who could do that would be Jisparienterae, but he isn't trained yet." He tried to sit down, and failed, obviously. "Looks like I'm going to be here for awhile."

 

Crusher

[antiaircraft]

Orel frowned. He had successfully managed to reroute essential electrical impulses through a different set of nerves in Orikan's brain, but he sensed something was wrong. A massive impact had shattered a large section of Orikan's skull, and fragments of it had been driven inwards, destroying or badly damaging large sections of it. Suppressing his own feelings, he made an objective examination of Orikan's mind, a difficult but still achievable task at this distance, and determined that the essential components were still intact. To repair the others would be a difficult job, and would have to be done up close. At least it gives me a chance to practice my new skills. he thought, minorly optimistic. He passed the time as he waited for Jispar to arrive with Orikan levitating the dragon in front of him deep into the forest.

[Midtime]

Jisparienterae heard Orel's message. He walked faster, ignoring the sudden, sharp pain from wounds that only sprouted several minutes after you received the actual wounds.

Eventually he exited the forest. Orikan was lying on the ground, not a pretty sight - what with his head bashed in. Jisparienterae picked him up, wincing - despite himself - from the strong ache that made itself extra clear when he bent down. He headed towards the temple, hoping he would find Orel there.

 

A large, clawed foot pressed him down. "Not so fast, you little beggar."

 

Jisparienterae would have laughed at the uninventive language the dragon used - had he been able to speak, or move.

 

He suddenly glowed brilliantly, blindingly white, and the suddenly grey dragon toppled over. He touched it.

 

It was hard as stone.

 

No, it was stone.

 

What just happened? Jisparienterae wondered, for the second time in half an hour, gazing at the petrified dragon ((I'm using this in the sense of 'turned to stone'.)). Then he remembered his urgent mission, and continued towards the temple.

 

((This is reflexive magic. It happens very rarely, and in case you were wondering, does not have anything to do with exceptional power.))

[antiaircraft]

Orel picked up a few more dragons closing in on them, and projected navigational illusions so as to throw them off course. Impressive Jispar. And it seems we have some visitors. You had better be quick, we will be reasonably safe deeper in the temple, although it is a pity you cannot enter the inner temple, since we would be hidden by the spells there if they would let you through, but only telepaths may enter there.

[Midtime]

Jisparienterae heard Orel. He moved faster, both because he was still a long way away from the temple and from the fear that the dragons might figure out what was happening and head back on course.

Eventually, he sighted the ornate pillars of the temple. As he came closer, he saw Orel standing some way in, and greeted him. Then a day of fear, running, wounds, and running with wounds took its toll, and even as he gently laid Orikan down on the floor, he passed out.

 

He dreamed of dragons, and blood, and ice, and fire.

[antiaircraft]

Orel sighed, annoyed, and levitated Orikan and Jispar off the ground. Let's go, before the Turn'stalé ariüne arrive. he said to Leron, Even though it lies in ruins, the outer temple's deeper levels are a maze that takes even telepaths years to learn.

 

((ariüne = outcast/rogue))

[Midtime]

When Jisparienterae woke up, he was on a hard stone floor.

The pain crashed into him like a tsunami, a blinding, white hot, tsunami. All he saw was white, all he felt was white, all he knew was white, and he tasted blood on his tongue.

As he had done every day as a slave, he pushed this to the back of his mind. He got up, and saw Orel sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. There was a pebble floating in midair in front of him.

As Jisparienterae watched, a chunk of the pebble separated from the rest, and then split into smaller and smaller chunks until he could no longer see it.

This happened again, and again, until there was nothing left of the pebble.

Orel opened his eyes.