Flashback [Lakeshore] It Starts With A Bolt (364AV)

[Dionatos]

Previous Thread Winter 45th 364AV The night was filled with the silence of thoughts while a fire flickered away. Dion had sat in front of the fire, unsure of what to do. It had been a full day and night that he kept the fire lit and yet the people of the camp never returned. He had gone through some of the packs around him and found rags of fur but it was enough to scare away the chill. There was still one other bag that he hadn’t gone through and as his mind wandered he couldn’t help but become curious. Silvered eyes shifted across the darkness as he rummaged, paranoid that the owner of the luggage may arrive at any moment. But those more intune with magics would know the couple would not make an appearance anytime soon. His hand bumped into a few sacks, rounded objects within them, he pulled it out and opened the neck. “Hmm, some nuts, but I don’t feel hungry.” He chucked the pouch absentmindedly back into the bag, “ouch, petch a knife?” Dion pulled the contents of a small spice and cutlery pouch out next. The silvery point of a dull knife stuck from the side of the pouch and glimmered in the light of the flame. His blood stained the fabric green as his finger began to manifest an opalescent fluid. “I’ve never cut myself before,” he brought his thumb level with his eyes, “curious. I didn’t think I could bleed.” His index finger came down against the blood and smeared it across his flesh, “its thick, mmf, and it still hurts.” He pulled his finger away as he accidentally pulled his flesh open further. His finger went into his mouth as he cleaned his wound, his blood had an odd earthy flower, taste. He treated the stained pouch similarly to the nuts. His hands then dove back into the bag and pulled out clothing, “too small for me. Its like these are for a woman.” He pulled out a long dress that had holes cut in erogenous areas, “oh dear. Definitely for a woman, possibly a whore too.” He chucked the dress into the fire, “thats a better place for that who knows what disease is caked into that fabric.” His head ducked lower while his hands continued to look through the backpack. Belongings, personal and practical, were spread out and lost in the cold soil. His fingers found the lace of a necklace and pulled it into the light. “What morbid item is this? A tooth?” Dion studied it closer, “is anything in this pack not filthy?” He sighed and chucked the necklace into the flame and allowed it to consume the personal item. Dion sighed in boredom before he stood and looked around the camp, “there is nothing left for me here,” he said. The fire continued to sputter as he collected the items he found of use to him and tucked them into a backpack. Some of the blankets had long runs and slices in their surface and made them less useful to him. He seemed to enjoy fire as he disposed of the items he did not carry into the flame to be turned to ash. “Might as well walk through the forest, the moon’s light is bright and I feel adventurous.” With the backpack slung over a shoulder Dion’s tall body slid away from the glow of the fire and into the white-blue of the night. The soles of shoes crunched over frozen mud as he wandered like a spectre in the forest. A tall fuzzy spectre dressed in tattered furr that barely covered his body. His movements sounded much louder than reality, the quiet of winter surrounded him. “I am beginning to believe that I’ve been dropped in an area quite remote,” Dion thought to himself. “No that couldn’t be right, why would there be a camp or any signs of civilization if it were not close. Wait, could that be something?” Dion looked off in the distance at the side of a small cottage. The wood, grayed with age, appeared sturdy and maintained, “I wonder if anyone is home?” He began to walk toward the home, “an ocean?” Dion stepped into a frosty clearing, the forest opened up to a calm mass of water. Ice didn’t seem to manifest on the mirrored surface, the moon’s light reflected heavily on it. All around the farm appeared to be plants, brown from winter, frozen in death much like flesh in stunted decay. He looked over the home and noticed a faint, orange, glow in a window. “Someone must be home, I just hope they are friendly,” Dion sighed with a white plume. “One way to find out,” he began to take steps toward the door. He knocked, “hello and good eve. Is anyone home?” Dion waited in the cold. “Yes, state your business,” a gruff voice was muffled by the heavy door. “I’m a traveler who has lost their way sir, I was hoping to find warmth in this winter’s eve,” Dion said. “A likely story, I bet you are a bandit,” the man was quick to say. Dion chuckled, “hah, sir I do believe you are mistakened. I am no bandit or charlatan, only a cold man.” “If you were a traveler, why would you need the shelter of my adobe?” Dion rubbed his chin as he stepped away from the door some. “Poor planning sir, I did not bring enough cloth and fur. I was not familiar with the distance I’d be traveling,” his brow crooked as he heard the man laugh. “And where were you traveling to?” “The nearest city sir.” “What city is that?” The voice said. “I’m not sure, but am I close to one sir?” Dion crossed his arms and flexed his foot to keep the blood circulating. “You are, it’s not often I hear a traveler who doesn’t know where they are headed. But yes you are, there is a dock to a city close by. It’ll most likely be a sennite if you’re on foot sir.” Dion frowned, “better start walking.” Dion shifted from foot to foot as he thought of what to say next, “sir. I don’t think what I have will last that long.” “Not my problem, have a good night,” Dion’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, I will remain here on your doorstep,” Dion kept his arms crossed shoulders hunched as the wind cut through the holes in the fur. “If that is your choice I will have to remove you from my property,” Dion snickered while he shivered. “How will you do that? You would need to unlock your door and expose yourself to the potential of a bandit’s attack.” “I have a crossbow,” the voice threatened. “What if there are more than one bandit? That would be a lot of pressure for one man to handle with a crossbow,” Dion said. “Or you can trust a stranger’s words when they say they are cold and traveling alone.” “I will give you to the count of 10 before I come out and fire my bow,” Dion heard a subtle waver in the voice. “I’ll still stand where I am at if it will clear any apprehensions that I mean no harm,” Dion said. “So be it, 10,” the voice continued to count. Dion decided to set down his pack and even began to disrobe in an attempt to show he was unarmed. Soon the small click of a latch came from the door and Dion perked up some. The orange light began to flood out over the brown grass and soil. A shadow stepped into the square of light, crossbow silhouetted. It raised and the voice shouted, “shyke.” “Petch a whore with thorns!”

[Dionatos]

“Welcome back Dionatos,” Dion’s eyes jerked open. The familiar humid, air, and the sweet, peppery, scent of tobacco smoke only confirmed what he saw. The stone walls of the bathing area glimmered with silvery streaks of moon light, an oculus allowed the light to stream in. Dion’s back was still rested against the coils of the Dhani whose body rumbled as Anraz hissed a chuckle. “I guess this means I’ve passed out once more,” Dion frowned some as he moved to stand from the warmed stone. “That’s correct,” Anraz tipped his long, stemmed, pipe and dumped the white ash into an urn. “Though this time you aren’t in nearly as much danger.” Dion sighed as he moved a hand to a statue of a jackal. His hand roamed over the exotic black stone, dark as ink and polished glossy, admiring the work. His fingers traced over the carved muscles and slid into the direct light of the moon. The light caused his own skin to shimmer as the shadows and highlights of his own muscles glimmered in blue and green hues. His brow rose as he stepped further into the light and continued to study his bare body. Anraz watched curiously before he slithered toward him, “do you feel something?” “Yes, its like a warmth. I haven’t noticed it before,” Dion continued to study his body. After a moment he looked up at the moon before he stepped toward the warm bath once more. He began to descend the stairs as Anraz slithered low against the ground and planted his hands at the pool’s edge. “What does it feel like hmm? Like sunlight? Or maybe a warm bath?” Anraz hissed a chuckle. “It does,” Dion dipped himself under the water and wet his hair. When he resurfaced he sighed and laid back, “its invigorating.” “I’m glad it still feels that way,” Anraz moved a hand to brush the hair off of Dion’s horns. “Anraz, what does your name mean?” Dion’s eyes closed as the warmth continued to warm and now relax his body. “That is a strange question,” Anraz hissed, “but if you have to know, it means unconsciousness and you are about to leave me.” “What?” Dion’s eyes opened. The wooden walls of a modestly furnished room treated his visions to the soft glows of orange from the flames of a fireplace. The wood appeared to be fresh as the moisture within caused the flame to pop and crackle. The humid air that rose from the water he had been laid in had a strong scent of herbs. “What is?” Dion winced and shouted when he moved his arm and was greeted with the sharp pain of a puncture wound. “Oh lord that hurts,” his body slumped back into the water. “Course it would hurt, you got shot,” Shawn said. Dion’s brow raised with his head, the silvered eyes rolled toward the direction of Shawn’s voice. He found himself having to turn his head further than needed in order to see Shawn’s body as it filled the door frame. “And I suppose the one who maimed feels guilt for not trusting a traveler?” Dion said. His form slipped from the water once more, though more gingerly than the first. Shawn continued into the room before he sat in a chair near the basin. “You could say that,” Dion eyed Shawn and noticed the crossbow position near his seat. Dion studied the man and his clothing. It was worn, dirty, and simple but the room that surrounded him was in order and neat. “But you are still skeptical? Afraid that a naked man will pull a band of bandits from his arse?” Dion’s body slinked forward as his hands gripped the edge of the tub. His hand moved to pull the hair from his horns and from his face, “though I wouldn’t blame you for being cautious still a chaotic world out there, full of surprises.” “Aye that there is, like you. What are you? I’ve not seen a creature like yourself before? Taller than any man around, crowned with horns, were you a slave?” Shawn’s form leaned forward and rested on his knees. Dion’s fingers dug into the wood, “I was slave to no one and please call me Dionatos, creature sounds too primal.” Dion’s lips curled into a smile as his chin moved to rest on his hands, “but now that you know what I am called, I do believe I deserve the same honor.” “You’re very mouthy aren’t you?” Shawn relaxed against the chair’s back, “my name is Shawn. I am a farmer and caretaker of the grounds.” “Now who is being mouthy,” Dion winked before he chuckled and continued, “well met Shawn farmer and keeper of the grounds.” Dion’s eyes quirked as Shawn’s brow furrowed, “oh I mean no offense.” “None taken,” Dion nodded his head. “Then why did you give me that look?” Shawn sighed before he smiled. “No real reason, just had a strange thought is all. But where have you really come from? You don’t seem to be equipped to have traveled very far,” Shawn said. “That is a question for the gods,” Dion stated flatly as he moved to stand in the basin. Shawn’s eyes looked over the strangely colored skin and admired the cut look of marble slab that was an ethaefal’s torso. The water glistened and shimmered with the dance of the flame, Dion noticed Shawn’s eyes linger. “Did you carry me in here by yourself?” Dion said while he stepped out of the basin. “I had the assistance of a wheel barrel but yes, dumped you into that basin like the fluff of cattails.” Dion chuckled and looked around the room before he moved closer to the fire and allowed himself to air dry. “Whatever you put in that basin, it seems to have really helped the wound.” One of Dion’s hands wandered up to the wound and traced a finger around the bruised surroundings. “I didn’t put anything of healing value. Its odd I’ve not seen someone recover from a wound like that so quickly before.” Shawn stood from his chair and took a step closer to the taller form. “It makes me wonder if your vague reply to my question has some meaning.” Dion looked over his shoulder as Shawn approached. He felt an odd sensation as his finger traced around the wound. In the light Dion could not see the black and blue bruise begin to soften and become yellow as if his body had moved forward a day. “Mm your deduction is impeccable Shawn,” Dion turned toward Shawn who stood with his hands to his side. “But the honest truth is I’ve traveled very far to end up right here in your home. The distance traveled can not be measured by standard units, but instead it is quite a metaphysical journey.” “I’ve never met a ghost who could bleed,” Shawn’s brow raised in skepticism. “There are other things other than ghosts,” Dion turned to face Shawn head on. “What god do you pray to?” Shawn chuckled, “Rhysol of course. He protects Ravok, the city in the middle of the lake.” Dion felt the name was familiar. “Right, I was a follower of Leth, a lesser god than yours by the sounds of it.” Shawn nodded his head in agreement, “but none the less he has removed souls from the cycle whom he felt deserving to live in his realm among divinity. I was one of them,” Shawn raised a hand to his chin. “If that is so, why are you here?” Shawn’s eyes wandered over Dion’s body before they moved up to Dion’s face. “Well, I’ve been attempting to figure out why I am here as well. But it has to be for a good purpose, there were others of my kind who have raised cities from ash.” Shawn nodded his head. “That is mere legends--” “Like men and women who fall from the sky and change forms depending on the celestial body in the sky?” Shawn’s hand stroked his chin. “You change forms? I’m intrigued,” Shawn chuckled and moved out of the room, “I was planning on throwing you out since you seem healed enough to walk around. But if what you say is true, I’d like to witness this transformation.” “And once you witness it what will you do then?” Dion followed Shawn as he began to move into another room. “Well a home to stay in isn’t free, but I could use some help around the farm. I’ll pay you enough to get you the rest of the way to the city,” Dion paused as Shawn stopped in the door frame. “I’ll even give you some clothes.” “How nice, I was beginning to think you enjoy seeing me naked,” Dion snickered. “What if I do?” Dion barely heard the words before Shawn spoke up, “I have a loin wrapping over there as well as a robe.” Shawn pointed toward a closet, “it more than likely will be too short for you. But it is all I have.” “I’m sure if you’ve looked into my belongings that I’ll take just about anything.” Dion moved to the closet and opened the door. “Thank you, these will do just fine,” Dion said.