Flashback [The Courtyard] Life and Death Intertwined (Vick)

[Ialari Pythone]

Winter of 511

Since returning to Sahova from her adventures in Nyka, Ialari found herself spending a decent amount of time in the Citadel's courtyard. The tombs and gravestones that dotted the area and the otherwise disturbing fog that hung low in the graveyard felt soothing at times to a women who often found herself walking the fine line between life and death. Unlike most pulsers residing within the confines of the Citadel, Ialari regularly took a number of steps away from the crooked, winding path and the protective iron rods that lined it. It was well known that the ghosts of those buried there could grow quite restless when one entered their realm. For Ialari however, the mark on the palm of her left hand filled her with the feeling of security as she passed the protective barriers that held the ethereal shades at bay. Those whom she encountered either met her with a bit of respect, fear and occasionally hatred. Regardless of their feelings, the ghosts seemed to keep their distance as if they didn't dare take the chance of angering one marked by Death, Herself. Nevertheless, Ialari was not foolish enough to venture too far from path for there indeed were spirits deeper within who would not hesitate to unleash the emotions that bound them upon the isur.

For any who would traverse the path through the courtyard, they would notice the dark robed figure that was Ialari, kneeling before a gravestone. They could hear soft whispers as if she were talking to someone. An obviously living, silver-veined arm could be seen touching the gravestone as the figure spoke.

For those aware of the existence of the "Savior of Sahova" and the events that occurred during Drainira's betrayal and escape from the Citadel, they would recognize the figure for who she was. For some, the knowledge that Ialari Pythone was responsible for the torture and destruction of a number of renegade nuit may bring some amount of pause. For others, she may simply seem little more than another pulser thinking they can outlast death.

[Vick]

A young child was skipping along the path inside the courtyard, the little boy was maybe eight or nine years of age coming from the docks. His feet still damp from kicking in the water as a sing song voice came from his cold dead lips. No words left his lips but a tune that was almost as old as he was. A humming of what sailors hum to keep their minds off of the island which the child had picked up on after awhile.

Normally he would have just kept going into the large building and found his lab yet today was a different day to him. He would have just kept going but today of all days he saw a figure past the pathway along a tomb and that made him stop in his tracks.

Few people left the path. Even he did not really leave the path often other than to play ball with a few ghosts now and then but that was a game he did not play in so ,many years. His red hair falling in his eyes, his old worn out tunic and pants stood out the most along his body but the kid with pale blue eyes just looked at the figure, a hood was blocking his view but he just giggled as he started to skip towards her.

Children were not seen on the island of Sahova. No sane person would let anyone step foot in the island so it was very odd sight to most to see a child and more of an odd sight to see that child skipping towards a ghost filled haven. Yet a few nuits who paid attention knew that this child was really just a high ranking wizard called Vick who dealt with bones in the field of Malediction. He always had a childs body to replace his own never growing up in a sense for he was turned as a child yet few knew that part of the tale.

The little child just stopped behind the figure that was kneeling down and just waited. At least for a bit until his mind made up his actions and started to skip around the person and grave and going into a hum about death, skipping around a few times before stopping and looking at the figure once more, letting a smile play along his deep purple lips.


“Most don’t like it here. Most tend to stay away. You seem different so would you like to play a game?”

Vick had times where he held his head high and his ego getting the best of him due to his field, other days he had a bad temper that was almost childish and it would seem on this day in question he was more childish with his actions. It was a side effect he was told due to the fact his mind was just too young when he became an nuit.

He was not sure if that was the case but he felt like enjoying himself with his childlike actions and while he was still a semi high ranking wizard he could still have fun playing a game with a new person. A person he did not get a rather good look at due to the cloak but he did not mind.

[Ialari Pythone]

The tombstone that Ialari knelt before belonged to one of the many who had perished in Sahova. The cause of death was unimportant as the only thing that mattered to Ialari was that the mage had lived and then died. It was the life spent between those two important elements of existence that was important. This was the gift Dira had given her; sensitivity to death with the context of life. The life of a being was as important as its death for without one, the other could not be. It was simple formula that Ialari hadn't considered until her intimate encounter with the personification of death.

As she knelt before the tombstone, she was in fact speaking with the mage who had been buried there. He was a young man, human at the time of death, who sought Sahova for the mystery and potential it held. Unfortunately, he was not suited for a life among death and fell ill to sickness brought on by lack of food and proper treatment of resulting sickness. She was speaking with him about a common interest, Magecrafting. Ialari had been delving more into the subject as of late and the ghost, Batas, had been researching the same discipline before his death. They spoke of the series of tones needed to produce a behavioral enhancement within an item when something rather odd and more than a little annoying interrupted. At the interruption, Batas faded away into the surrounding mist.

The noise of a child filled the air followed by the sight of one actually skipping around her, the hum of death on its lips. As a being known for patience, Ialari sometimes had trouble with it. That said, she swallowed her frustration and embraced the stores of patience she kept buried inside for just such an occasion. The irritating sound of the child's voice however did test that patience as she lowered her arm from the stone and glanced upward from beneath the heavy cowl of her robes.

Calmly, Ialari responded to the child's words, "Most people do not understand this place. Lack of understanding often drives one to fear." Ialari slowly stood and looked at the child. Few of the undead she encountered in Sahova seemed enthusiastic about anything. Fewer yet chose the body of a child to inhabit and none that she knew of would actually choose to act like one. The fact that one of the wretches had chosen a child to inhabit caused Ialari a greater amount of disgust than she had yet experienced in her time on the island.

Regardless, the fact that this particular parasite was different than the others gave her pause and in that, presented something of a curiosity. She would humor it for a time and see where it led.

"A game. An amusing offer. Tell me, child, what sort of game tickles the fancy of the unliving?" Introductions would have to wait. The fact that a nuit, inhabiting a child's decomposing body, wished to play a game, was not a laughing matter nor was it something to be taken lightly. She would not agree to such a foolish thing without knowing what was involved. Even then, she was hesitant to indulge too much in the odd activity.