The Game - Gathering the players [Team Dusk, closed]

[Gromhir]

There was frustration but also relief in Stitch. This worried Gromhir more than it pleased him but he spoke nothing of it to anyone, the only one who would note the worry would indeed be Stitch himself as it flared in Gromhir’s feral aura for a few short moments. On appearances however, Gromhir merely smiled at Stitch’s response. This human language frustrated him greatly and he had to pause to think what to say. This left his sensitive ears open to the dialogue of the other members of their team. One in particular caught his attention.

Anger blazed inside him, the moment the Symenestra uttered his words. There were few things worse than human males and Demetri had the unfortunate pleasure of being just one of those things. His words to Kamalia sealed his fate in the eyes of Gromhir. The Kelvic released a low growl, his fragile trust in those around him shattered completely in that one instance. The feral creature inside him leaping to the fore in his eyes, it took all his self-control not to simply attack the man.

Now was not the time to make enemies. Gromhir fell into silence as those around him conversed, his mind working away trying to process all the information. He had walked into a crowd with little regard other than the safety of his friend and the insistence of his bondmate. After all, Gromhir would have simply done as Stitch had asked it he had been the one to see Stitch. Kamalia would have been safe back in Syliras and that was Gromhir’s only concern. There was never any other concern that mattered to him.

So this was a game? A game was supposed to be fun. That was what he had read in books. Board games, that was it, like serpents and ladders. You rolled the shapes called dice and move your piece. Kamalia had shown him once. Would this be the same? It could not be if it spoke of sin. Sin was bad. But if attacking people were necessary then Gromhir would not hesitate. He never had before and he saw no reason to start now. As Kamalia spoke, Gromhir fell back into the world around him.

“A contrast indeed,” Gromhir replied, other concerns clearly weighing on his mind as he approached the archway. He cautiously pressed his finger against it and regretted his movements. The flow of foreign Djed was an unpleasant one. It brought back black memories, flashes that Gromhir would rather have stayed hidden. Dark shapes danced before his eyes of two figures, one a small child, one frail adult. The shift happened in an instant and with little warning.

The Ivaski whimpered shaking its head as it cowed from the archway, sapphire eyes now red and frightened.

[Rhylen]

Rhylen’s nerves were eased unexpectedly, the calm brought on by a flush of radiant heat coming from an unknown source. These people were a strange lot, their mannerisms completely exotic to him. He assumed that they might feel the same about him, being that they seemed mutually garbed in the fashion of city folk, while he looked decidedly earthy. Rhylen’s uneasiness grew at this thought. Would they think him some barbaric wildlander? He certainly hoped not. It was hard enough among his own people to feel any sense of belonging. The remoteness of his way of life had made dealings with other people somewhat of a difficulty. Already the group was larger than he would usually feel comfortable with, and they were to work closely alongside one another. His disquiet grew against the warmth, reasserting itself as a cold knot in his gut.

Turning his back on the others, Rhylen wandered through the arch. Tentatively he took hold of his djed in an effort to sense death within the gloomy fortification, its mass obscured by the rising sun, which even now shone tendrils of white light down upon the scarred forest around them. It felt terribly unnatural, as if the arch had been a gaping maw eager to swallow him and the rest of his teammates’ in one piece. The power necessary to birth this monolith had most definitely come from something greater than the mortal realm; perhaps one of the gods. He would go no further into its depths without the others, but giving up was not an option. Without experience he would be useless as a spiritual leader to his people. Rhylen’s responsibility to the Drykas was greater than the turmoil churning within him. He would see this through.

Turning back, the apprentice was able to catch the tail end of a remarkable transformation. Kelvic were uncommon among the Drykas, but they were known as troublesome beings, more animal than man. Rhylen thought of Thalla, considering how she seemed more human than most people he knew, tender and empathetic. He kept hold of his power, lest the creature’s bestial nature take hold, and scanned the eyes of the gathering, noting who had already sealed their fate by way of touching the entryway. ”Do you think we should form a plan?” he asked, a little more assertive than before, though in no way intending to step up as leader. They likely would not accept one so young to make decisions for them anyway, and he wasn’t willing to determine the fates of so many lives, not yet.

”I have some ability as a medium, but my gifts relate more to the ways of the Cyphrus than navigating magical relics. Who else among you can fight? I am somewhat lacking in offensive prowess.” This shamed him, for the Drykas were generally strong warriors, and avoidance was his preferred response to conflict. Thoughts for offering himself up as the innocent were only just waylaid by his consideration of the ivory woman; surely she shouldn’t be placed in harm’s way, though she seemed rather more confident than him. Stitch and Kamalia seemed like kind enough people, though eccentric in their own ways, they didn’t have the air of violence about them that the other three possessed.

[Demetri Velutina]

Demetri couldn't help but be attracted to the flawless skinned Konti who was like most, taken aback leaving a moment of silence as the blind one spoke up. Normally Demetri's would have been insulted by such ignorance but Stitch was blind and could tell he wasn't human, How? " Stitch was it? To settle your little mind I am Symenestra. Amazing I know, Seek further knowledge elsewhere or know more if you divulge how you can see." It would seem The Konti rose to full glory speaking her name. "Truley a pleasure to meet you Kamalia". Demetri gave the green cloaked man a slight nod that his presents was acceptable.

The group had grow to a notable size and so far each member looked as if they could handle themeless in a way shape or form but, weather or not things would grow decadent was in the hands of fate. Demetri'sfFull attention back on Kamalia as she questioned about her eyes.He seemed to float ever closer to her. "Naturally so my dear".

Rhylen seemed to venture off on his own, returning with the notion of forming a stratagem. "Not a bad Idea but with no foreknowledge of what we shall encounter it would be simpler to stay on our toes... I have adequate combat ability with my whip. Many a wild beasts have learned that." The way he accented Wild beasts gave an impression that he could mean both man and animals.

[Stitch]

Stitch had winced slightly as both Kamalia and Gromhir had approached the archway without much restraint, or caution, and given it a quick touch. He had lifted a hand to stop Gromhir, but the Kelvic had moved a bit too quickly for Stitch, who was distracted by the varied people around him. Soon after wincing at Gromhir, Kamalia had approached the arch, touching it before Stitch had recovered from his earlier wince. Which, in turn, caused him to wince again. A smile was soon to touch his lips though as she asked about the state of her eyes, and he was quick to answer. "Lovely, milady." Stitch bowed his head slightly, not a bit put off-balance or taken aback by her impossible question. She unknowingly had assumed completely right, he was still a bit angry, but he had already forgiven them. Stitch wasn't one to harbor anger for very long, and only dire circumstances could actually cause the emotion to swirl up inside of him. But even then, he was who he was, and Kamalia and Gromhir were quickly forgiven. He couldn't blame them, he supposed. If he had been in their shoes, and had seen them scurry off the way he had, he would have been just as eager to offer an eager hand.

He then turned his attention to Demetri as the Symenstra's words pierced into his mind. Absorbing them, he flushed slightly, cheeks reddening as he realized he might have insulted the creature. Bowing his head quickly, he offered Demetri a quick apology. "This one apologizes, milord. The question was rude, especially when this one has not fully introduced himself, and perhaps the most obvious mystery about himself. This one can see through use of Auristics. Slightly different then most Auristic users, it seems, but this one is lucky that it is so. This one can see auras, can see a world much different then what normal eyes can see. Sometimes better, sometimes worse." Stitch paused, and smiled a bit, shaking his head. "This one usually doesn't even think about it, as this one has grown so used to it by now, and forgets that it is a bit out of the norm."

Striding forward, he stepped to Gromhir's side, standing in front of the massive beast, and meeting his red-eyed gaze head-on. Instead of Stitch's eyes being challenging, they were warm, easy-going, peaceful, relaxing. An aura of complete ease and peace radiated from Stitch, washing over Gromhir, as Stitch unwittingly actually projected the emotions he was mentally trying to project through his gaze, as if hoping the Kelvic could read it. No fear was in Stitch, for some reason, Gromhir's form did not frighten him. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was drawn to the man, for he felt perfectly at ease next to him. He could only help Gromhir felt the same way. Unsure of why Gromhir had shifted, and why his aura wept so sorrowfully, Stitch could merely try and comfort him with what little words he had.

"Thank you, milord. This one is truly happy you have come. This one owes you, and will be sure to stand beside you in the trials to come. That is what this one can promise, milord." Stitch gave Gromhir's shoulder a squeeze, having to reach a bit high to get to it.

Turning then, Stitch suddenly regarded the rest of the group, rubbing his forehead as he thought about the current situation, and what they were about to do. There was a castle, and they were going to have to explore it in order to reach the top. Positioning was the first thing to consider, he had learned this among many games of chess with Damien. Positioning, positioning, positioning, who took the lead and who took the rear. The formation of the group was important.

"This one has an idea, and if the party would be so kind as to consider it...?" Stitch's cheek flushed a bit, he wasn't used to stepping forward so brazenly, but he had to do it. He had come here for a reason, and he had to win. "Since we are going to be exploring what could be a very deadly building... This one suggests we put some thought on how we are going to enter, and how we are going to explore." Tilting his head at each of them, going over what they had each said regarding their combat abilities, and some of there other talents, he slowly pieced together how he thought they should proceed. "Milord Sasin, Milord Gromhir. As snake and wolf, this one would assume both of the lords would have heightened senses, in some form or another? Would you honor us in taking the lead, using both sight, sound, and smell to guide our path, watch for traps, danger, and other participants, if it be friend, foe, or other team? You two are also easily able to adapt to a melee combat situation, if needed."

He knelt down, marking their names into the dirt quickly, to give the rest of the group a visualization of what he had in mind.

"Milady Kamalia, Milord Demetri... Would you honor us in taking the rear? Both of you are ranged, with whip and Djed, and you will be offered the protection of all of those in front of you, and can be assured of a safe path. That leaves this one, as well as the Lord Rhylen, to be in the center. Both of us either lack in combat abilities, or are somewhat hesitant to use it, as well as the fact that this one's eyes might be best used in the center. Where everything can be seen, and everyone can be kept an eye on." He paused, glancing at Rhylen, unsure how to word the next phrase. In the end, he decided to just go ahead and say it, and plunged forward with his speech. "Milord Rhylen is perhaps most likely to remain innocent, seeing as he has no combat abilities."

Stitch took a deep breath, stepping up from the six names he had carved into the ground, presenting them for all to see. Glancing from Sasin, to Gromhir, to Demetri, from Kamalia, to Rhylen, he offered all a small smile, blushing brightly at his sudden forwardness. "What do you all think?" In an attempt to include Rhylen, who seemed a bit hesitant still, he particularly focused on him. "Milord Rhylen?"

[Kamalia Timandre]

A soft smile flowered upon the konti’s lips when the group, especially Stitch, called her now-gleaming-red eyes lovely. Kamalia was never one for confrontations; the konti society in Mura often avoided such heavy, emotionally charged interactions. The relationship between the Blind and the Seer was an intriguing paradox and a confounding puzzle at best. His smile seemed to have indicated that he had already forgiven them for tracking him and following him here, even after he had pleaded the pair several times to stay behind. The young konti only wished to know what deeply troubled her human friend. After all, Stitch did not seem the type who would foolishly leave the orphanage behind just to play some dubious, ridiculous game. Kamalia’s seer sensitivities had gripped her with a terrifying conviction that something was wrong—very wrong. More puzzling still, how did this strange pre-Valterrian building pop into existence in these parts of the wilderness after the forest emerald fire? Was this some kind of some masterfully spell-crafted trap? And why was Stitch so adamant about leaving and playing this game? A storm of questions surged and ravaged within her mind—multitudes of questions that only led to more questions. Stitch would not tell them anything. Although the philosophy, “Ask all questions, and let Avalis answer them all” worked well enough for the konti, at large, Kamalia would loath employing her fey gifts of Divination to magically pilfer information from her human friend. Privacy was sometimes a strange concept to the young konti who had lived all her life in transparency in an island of seers. And then she felt it—the arcane geas that enchained Gromhir and Kamalia’s fates together suddenly flickered and sizzled. The man’s body melted into a swarm of miniscule lights, clustering collectively and reforming into the shape of an enormous white canine. Black scenes shrouded the konti’s mind; Kamalia saw what Gromhir saw in his mind’s eyes—darkness, shadows and silhouettes all collapsing in a slow demon-dance. Kamalia snapped her eyes open and blinked, dropping to one knee in front of the frightened ivaski and reflexively draping a slender arm around his mane. The pair needed no words to converse, and the konti maiden comforted the kelvic with a soothing hand. She eyed her companions, listening with rapt attention as they conversed about their strengths and weaknesses. Kamalia’s gaze floated towards Rhylen first. She thought it slightly strange to hear that a Drykas would have a lack of offensive capabilities, though she somewhat sensed that the man was not without power. Somehow, the man seemed to emit an air of tranquility about him, but— the seer noted— it was a quietude that promised a coming, turbulent tempest, just like the lull before a storm. A smile crept across the konti’s face as her eyes drifted towards the Dhani and the Symenestra, for strangely enough, Kamalia experienced no fear or loathing she had been taught she should feel. All she felt was a consuming curiosity that made her want to know more about their cultures and homelands. Oh, she knew Gromhir was jealous, but Kamalia thought her bondmate needed to trust her more. Something slowly dawned upon Kamalia. Suddenly, the konti burst aloud into a siren laughter. As everyone’s eyes turned on her, the konti girl’s shoulders still shook convulsively in soft, cheeky giggles. “Is it just me or does Lhex truly have some warped, twisted sense of humor, placing us all together in a single team? First, we’ve got a sightless yet incredulously optimistic martial artist over here. Then there’s the Cyphrus damselfairy over there,” she gestured to Rhylen,“and there, we've also got a snakeboy cutthroat and a suave spiderman weenie! Mayhap we will stumble upon an overly-cheerful zith in polkadots and sunflowers on his hair next?” She burst again into another laughter. Nobody even smiled, or laughed along. Kamalia’s laughter faltered, and then died. Understanding came to the young girl immediately. Quickly, she pretended to look serious— wise and sagacious as expected of all konti. “I have no problems with your plan, my friend. I command the water and the air, and I can ask Avalis, the Seer Mother, her aid should the situation call for it,” she said calmly and sagely, but her cheeks flushed red like a ripe tomato.

[Gromhir]

Kamalia and Stitch could feel the massive canine tremble the moment they touched Gromhir. Whatever it was that Gromhir had seen troubled him deeply. It took the pair of them to bring Gromhir back to the reality they existed in once more. There were very few times the Ivaski had ever been afraid in his life but this was the time he had experienced that emotion while bonded to Kamalia.

He barely listened to the words that were spoken as he tried to focus himself once more. He could not force himself to change until he had. He did not know why but the moment he felt fear, he shifted and could not shift back until it had subsided. It took Stitch mentioning Gromhir’s name for him to transform back. He hastily pulled his cloak over himself and turned to watch the unfolding conversation.

Once Stitch had finished, he spoke up. “I would agree with you. But you assume too little.” Despite the feral look in his eyes, there was an intelligence hidden behind them. He looked on each of his team as equals for a moment. “This is a game. Whoever created this game did not simply want to test our skills in battle or our ability to dodge traps. If we expect something so narrow then we leave ourselves open.”

“There will be puzzles in there requiring more than simple brute force to solve. We must keep our wits about us and our minds as sharp as our fangs.” Gromhir looked to Kamalia, placing a hand gently on her arm. They needed no human words to speak to each other. If you feel the addiction rise, stop. I will protect you. Finally, Gromhir turned his gaze towards the castle. This was a game of human design. Nature would not help him here. This was his test.

[Tarot]

First day, 12th bell

The drawbridges were lowered at noon, quickly and without warning. The castle looked deserted, albeit perfectly functional. Its every stone gave off an energy, a power accumulated over centuries of waiting and now released. Released at a great cost indeed. All the participants in the Game were left with the impression that someone was throwing everything he or she had into this monumental undertaking. This castle was meant to reproduce pre-Valterrian architecture - and indeed Alahea had developed advanced castle engineering techniques under Suvan's relentless attacks - but on a closer look it did not look as old and battered as one would expect of a 500 year old structure. In fact, it wasn't too far-fetched to suppose it was no older than one night. No-one could begin to fathom why, though.

At noon, the game was afoot. Invisible forces lifted the portcullis that the drawbridge had revealed, and both Teams were left free to explore the castle in whatever way they wished. The layout of the game board was now clear, though of course neither Team could be sure that the other half of the castle was a mirror image of their own.

The castle was divided into two halves by a segment of the walls cutting through the courtyard. This seemed to prevent direct contact between the Teams for the time being. There were two ways to access the central keep, with the easily accessible door right ahead of them being the more obvious one. They could also climb their way up one of the towers, gain access to the castle walls and enter through the North/South segment of the walls that divided the place in two, where another door awaited. The towers themselves rose quite a bit higher, and made by far the best observation points. They were tall enough that one could probably see most of the other side of the courtyard from the highest vantage point. The central tower was not as tall in comparison.

The adventurers would be greeted into the courtyard by a signpost reading:

"Once upon a time there was innocence."

It was only to be the first in a series of strange sightings and events they would witness here. The keep's main door was where the disturbing surprises began. Next to the heavy oaken door, which seemed to be lacking a keyhole, was a stone pedestal with a beating heart. A small inscription on the pedestal read: "I will stop you until you stop me." A challenge, a dare, a price to pay.

There were quite a few buildings scattered all over the courtyard. Most of them looked empty and unoccupied, though some had simple signs drawing attention to them. One of the largest, sitting against the outer wall just North of the portcullis, was apparently an "Opportunity Shop". A smaller "Question Shop" lay nearby, as well. Less unusual places included a forge, a bakery, a tanner, and what looked like a chapel to the gods. One of the buildings even featured the black door mentioned in the rules, just in case someone had remembered some urgent business in Syliras.

Their destiny was in their own hands now.

OOCSorry if this post is identical for both teams, the next ones won't be. Also, I will timestamp my posts with the time of day, so I can synchronize all threads and know the exact timeline of things.

[Rhylen]

Rhylen tried to forget the pale woman’s unusual outburst, feeling slighted, though she’d doled out the critiques uniformly. He made special note of her comment regarding a command over the air, however. The thought excited him, a reimancer? Talented enough to claim the air as her own. He would ask her to extend training to him, perhaps in exchange for another form of knowledge. These newly formed relationships might be beneficial to them, assuming they survived the encounter.

Turning from her shamefaced expression back to the sketch Stitch had created in the dirt, Rhylen was relieved to see that he stood safely in the center of the illustration. It was another reminder of his limitations, but one that he’s seen coming. The others seemed much more capable of defending themselves than him, and would likely keep an eye out for him also, should he need help. He would endeavor to make up for his shortcomings in other ways. Surely he had something to offer than the others couldn’t. Perhaps Raghnall’s wisdom would afford them some advantage. The spirit was still abnormally mute.

Taking the opportunity to watch the kelvic transform again, Rhylen listened closely to Gromhir’s input, finding truth his words. ”The wolf is right, he said evenly, nodding his assent. ”We will need to think clearly, but let us not forget that this is a race.” Riders in the Cyphrus were passionate about racing. They often sought advantage through quickly made decisions at breakneck speeds atop their striders. ”The other team is sure to have a range of abilities as well. And you can be sure they’ll be just as cautious.” He looked at each of his companions in turn, finding his voice a little easier now that he’d begun. ”Haste, aside strategy and talent will win us this prize. We must be wary. And we must be united.” He somewhat doubted the possibility of that last part. Already he could feel tension among some of the group’s members. But what choice did they have?

He jumped at the sound of metal grinding on metal behind him. Embarrassed, he turned to watch the drawbridge settle into position; the portcullis made a similar sound as it rose ominously, clearing the passage. What he could see from this distance wasn’t much, but it did serve to illicit a feeling of exhilaration within him. Rhylen took the time to observe his companion’s reactions, and then offered an arm to the blind man. ”Shall we begin?” he asked, preparing to assume their discussed position and cross the drawbridge. ”Your sight may be superior to our own, but at least let me help you to the castle. I can hardly trust my own eyes anymore.”

[Nyahna Sasin]

Sasin nodded his agreement with the wolf. "The wolf...I'm sorry. I don't know your name. Either of your names." He said, nodding at the wolf and the konti. "The wolf is right. Why would someone go to all this trouble just for a physical test? This hass to be something more." He said. Still, he was uneasy. He had bad experiences with Kelvics in the past, and he feared that he wouldn't be able to work with this one.

For a few moments, there was an awkward silence. As the 12th bell rang, a bang rang out. Turning around, Sasin realized the drawbridge was lowered. And right behind it, was a portcullis. He was about to make a sarcastic remark about how useful that was when the portcullis opened. He shut his mouth, and looked around. His view of the castle interior was very limited, however.

Walking forward, Sasin hesitated at the end of the drawbridge, uncertain as to what to do.

[Stitch]

The Konti would have made Stitch laugh any other time. At any other moment, in any other kind of situation that did not have circumstances such as these, Stitch would have found her sudden outburst hilarious. Especially the way she referred to him, and referred to herself. Now though, he only found himself smiling sadly at her, unable to laugh, but able to appreciate her attempt at cheering up the somewhat stoic group. If it was even an attempt to cheer them up. Sometimes the Lady could just be a bit... out there.

It was why he appreciated her friendship, though.

Her next comment got a nod from him, his grin widening a bit as she tried to salvage her butchered joke. Stitch's smile shook a bit as he offered it to Gromhir, the blind man obviously nervous. Bowing his head slightly, he nodded to the Kelvic, his approval apparent. "Thank you milord, and well put. You must forgive this one, for this one feels a bit rushed, and wants to move forward as quickly as possible. Please do continue to keep this one in line, this one would not like to drag all of the others along, and perhaps right into danger. Even though this is a race, haste is likely ill-advised. And caution, and wits..." Pausing, Stitch slowly reached up to his bandages, closing his eyelids underneath. "...is required." Grabbing at the front of the bandages, the muscles in his arm bulged as he forcefully yanked them them off, shaking his head and stuffing the worn bandages into a pocket. He stood there a moment, keeping his eyes closed, letting his eyes adjust to the small amount of light that was leaking through. Not adjust visually or mentally, just physically. Sudden light exposure to his sensitive eyes spelled a lot of pain. They were damaged already, he was blind, best not to mess them up any more. Slowly, he opened them, revealing them to the rest of the group.

They were completely milky white, except for the single red pupil that each contained, giving him a somewhat eerie look. Each had three small scars running through the middle of the eye, as if someone, or something, had raked fingernails or claws right down through his eyeballs. The eyes stared vacantly, never moving, simply gazing off far into the distance, much like a normal blind man. Turning his head toward Ryhen, Stitch smiled hesitantly, placing a hand on the man's arm. "Thank you, milord. This one is honored by your humble offer." He allowed the man to help lead him, staying with him the entirety of the drawbridge. He kept his auristic sight active, sweeping the drawbridge and opening with his magical gaze, keenly aware there could already be problems, and ready to quickly report them to his fellow party members.

If there wasn't any trouble, he would continue into the courtyard, as well as offer Sasin a quick pat on the shoulder. "Do not worry, Milord. You are a sharp and keen man, do not be unsure. Trust us, and trust yourself. We will win." He had to place his own faith in those words, and remember to follow them himself. They had to win.

He first examined the signpost, and then the heart, hesitantly edging closer in order to read the inscription on the pedestal. He kept his eyes off the heart, unwilling to look at it directly for the moment, to even mess with the aura. He swept his eyes over the door to the main keep, noting the lack of a keyhole, and then simply continued on with his exploration. He stood there, in the middle, sweeping his head side to side to examine everything. The two corner towers, offering another way up. The sturdy walls, the wall separating them from the other half of the castle, the shops on the side. Walking slowly, separating himself from Rhylen at some point, he read everything there was to read. What interesting shops.

After a quick examination of everything obvious, he turned to regard his other party members, if they had indeed followed him. Taking a deep breath, he went ahead and offered his thoughts on the situation. His cheeks would flush red as he did, but he plunged on, nonetheless. He had to be forward, he had to take some kind of lead. He had so much to lose.

"This one believes the beating heart is the key to the door, if it is indeed locked. It will stop us from entering the main keep until we stop it, although this one may be mistaken. That is just first assumption." He paused, a slightly shamed look crossing his face. "This one hasn't taken a close look at the heart nor the door, to see if the auras are connected. This one... is slightly hesitant to, just out of.. fear, perhaps." His cheeks flamed red again, and he cleared his throat, sweeping a finger to the doors higher up on the main keep, the ones that led into the keep from the middle wall. "Those doors will allow us to enter in from the sides, if we so choose." He paused again, shuffling a bit, his head tilting from one person to the next, never resting. "This one thinks we should check out the buildings, first? Whichever you like..."

He honestly wanted to go straight into the main keep. He wanted to win. He wanted to be quick. He wanted to end this, and go home to his children. But he couldn't. He had to be slow, careful, he had to think of the other people here with him, who he had to protect as well.

He realize that he could hear the tinkle of Trish's laughter. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he willed them not to fall, ignoring the deep sadness swelling inside his heart. He could hear her so clearly. She was that deeply ingrained into his heart.