Closed Until That Day [Ayatah]

[Ayatah]

The morning would become one of Ayatah’s favourite memories of the two of them. When the Zeltiva mornings bought ice and frost, she would find herself wrapped up in that tiger pelt to keep warm, thinking of that one morning, how they had spent those blissful final bells alone together simply talking, laughing and kissing. And when the barbarians across the sea would call her people ‘savage’ and ‘beastlike’, she would think of that morning and how placid they were.

"I think you underestimate the effect a female can have on the bonds of males. Besides, they need women, since they have none of their own. I would expect them to be -- even more... appreciative of females."

She giggled as he gasped and tensed under her own lowering centre. Myri, she loved how she had that effect on him, though it was far from a one-way thing. When his fingertips brushed down from her shoulder blades to her arse, Ayatah found herself releasing her own shuddering breath.

Control yourself, girl! Be a strong Myrian woman like your ancestors…

She lent forward, bringing her lips to his -- but not touching them. Instead she spoke, though her words were only just louder than a sigh. ”Well, just to be on the safe side, I better give you a remin-- ohh…“ A moan escaped from her throat, and Ayatah bit her bottom lip to retain what little willpower she had left. There were those damn hands again, on her inner thighs now, heading towards…

Ah, petch it.

Self-control out the window, Ayatah let herself fall into her own excitement and lust, finally meeting her lips with his. She ignored his triumphant smirk, and that lowly chuckle.

This was different to the previous night, which had been intoxicated by desire, alcohol and Myrian hormones. Instead, this was simply two people in love, joining together one final time before their journey. With his hands on her hips, Ayatah slowly lowered herself onto his member, eyes closed and back arched. She sighed and moaned, body tensing around him as she worked in a slow grinding motion.

One last time, my love. One last time.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Razkar gasped as they came together, but it was not just the feel of her that took his breath away. It was the exquisite slowness of the way they moved; the languid, patient savoring of each other. None of the fury and friction of last night, exhilarating though that had been. His breath came with the same slowness, and when he opened his eyes, her expression matched his own.

Enraptured...

The male would never truly understand how he was able to conjure that kind of bliss, the kind he saw making her head roll back and her lips move in mumbling, meaningless sounds of ecstasy. He supposed, sometimes, that it was better, lest his ego take control... but as he gazed up at her, the question came back full-force.

How ever did you get this lucky?

The two of them ground together for longer than they would have believed and less than they would have liked. His hands roved upwards and marveled at her smooth, trembling skin. But it couldn't last, it wouldn't, and-

"Aya..." The word came out as a benediction and a blessing. "Aya..."

His body stiffened and when the moment came, Razkar broke apart and reformed within his own skin. Waves of pleasure battered him and he felt his body tingle in places he wasn't even aware he had... but some tiny, still-conscious part of his mind told him that he was not finished.

His eyes flashed open and he saw his love atop him, breathless but still unsatisfied. A slow smile, somewhere between love and lust, split his face and he shook his head.

"Not done... yet..."

His hand snaked down her body, tracing across lines and ropes of muscle... until his fingers found their way between his legs. Her gasp rang in his ears as his thumb slipped inside her, finding the spot he was looking for.

She felt his other hand alight her face, and looked down. His eyes were so... earnest. They wanted only to please her, and it was almost impossible to tell whether or not it was to satisfy his own ego or just satisfy her.

Well, it would have been... if one did not know Razkar as she did.

Yes, a beautiful and stolen moment, carved out of time just for us, Razkar would think many seasons later. Then he would wince and shake his head. And then Tronk had to bloody well go and ruin it...

[Ayatah]

Ayatah knew all too well of the physical pleasure that came when two people joined together, though nobody had ever made her more aware of it than Razkar. But that morning, as she moved so tantalizingly slowly on top of him, she felt more sensitive ecstasy than she had ever done so before. Every grind had her growling in passion, hands trailing up and down his taut body.

Goddess, she loved him. She loved him more than she thought possible, and it was intense and daunting but so incredibly wonderful as well. In those moments, she didn’t belong anywhere else but right there, with him, their bodies moving together in some perfect duet.

They soon worked up a thin layer of sweat, though from the heat that radiated off their bodies than the actual physical endeavour of their love making.

Her eyes fluttered to a close, lips coming down to his ear as she felt herself being lifted higher, higher. Her chest was pressed against his, breaths coming fast and shallow now… she was so close…

She felt him pulsate and harden inside her, and Ayatah smiled despite her own lack of… heightened joy.

"Not done... yet..."

A single eyebrow arched in response, and before Ayatah could even put together a worded question, his hand had dropped to where her legs met.

And suddenly the pleasure restarted just where it had left off. ”Oh… Raz!” The cry was out of equal surprise and arousal, but as his hand below began working her body, they turned into whispers and then gasps of just the latter. Her head tilted back, eyes closed to allow herself to drown in this sexual indulgence and pleasure.

Then she opened her eyes once more, glancing downwards to meet his. And that look in his eyes was almost too much. Dedication, love, fascination and the want to satisfy. She bought her mouth to his, wishing that her kisses would reassure him that he bought more joy to her life than anyone - anything - else in this strange, messed up world.

Two things happened after that.

The first was what they had both been working for. Ayatah’s muscles tensed, for a second she stopped breathing and even swore her heart paused as well. Then intense, all-consuming pleasure washed over her, making her spine tingle and she whispered his name again, again and again.

The second thing….

”Aya! Raz…. What are you..?”

Suddenly, everything perfect crumbled down, and Ayatah turned around to see her younger half-brother at the doorway, a puzzled look upon his face. ”TRONX!” She rolled off Razkar, trying to catch her breath after orgasm and shock. It was a challenge, to say the least. ”What… Get out!” There were times when familial pleasantries were just…. Not possible.

The young boy scuttled out as quick as he had appeared, but not after throwing his sister and her lover a disapproving look. Adults... why did they spend so much time in bed together? Didn’t they know there were more interesting things to do outside?

The two lovers were silent for a moment, taking in the catastrophe of what had just happened. Both of them stared at the doorway, now (thankfully) empty of any children.

Then Ayatah sniggered, face flush with a mixture of that post-sex glow and complete embarrassment. ”How long… was he there for?”

The question was answered by more laughter, and soon the two of them could hardly breathe.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Razkar was a warrior born, but he didn't think his reflexes were were every better in that frantic, frozen moment after he saw a little boy with his head cocked to one side, holding up the flap to their hut.

"Shyke!"

Ayatah rolled off and before her rear even hit the pelt he'd reached down and jerked part of it over his midsection... which immediately resembled a tent. He hiked his legs up and stared, numb with shock and the damnably inconvenient blissful paralysis of a recent climax.

Would it fool a child? Probably not. The little bastards are smarter than they look.

Fortunately, Ayatah's suddenly sharp tongue saved him. Tronk vanished in the face of it and for a few moments they just stared at each other. Oh, gods, what had he seen? How much had he seen? Or heard? Horror mounted on horror and Razkar felt that Lethshine hangover coming back with a groan...

”How long… was he there for?”

The quip snapped into his brain unbidden, and his lips twitched. Unable to hold it in anymore, he parted the fingers over his face and Ayatah could see his eyes grinning.

"Probably enough that your step-father won't need to have The Talk with him. Hey, might work outARGH!"

She flew at him with an outraged squeal, hard fingers questing under his ribs and stomach. He jerked and spasmed and writhed to get away but it only made him laugh harder. Finally the male managed to get a hand on her, throwing a leg over her hips and straddling her, both hands now pinning her wrists while she glowered up-

-and his lips crushed against hers, taking in all the breath and anger from her. Not that it really was, he knew. But still... it was a fun little game.

When she made those familiar, sensuous little noises against his mouth, he let up and pressed his forehead to hers. The next was softer... and the next... and the next.

"I love you." That was all he said. Once such fear and trepedation had stalled his tongue on those words. Now it felt as easy and as true as ordering a drink or saying his name. "And I-"

"... well, what were they doing?"

Both of them froze. Razkar's pupils dilated to pinpricks, face tense and sharp and disbelieving. That was... oh, Goddess... Paira. And the other voice...

"They were wrestling, Mama. Wrestling! I bed! I always get in trouble for that, but they do it-"

"Tronk!" A strangled female cry finally barked out. "Go, ah... go grab some fruit for your sister."

"But she already-"

"Now!"

No sound but a beligerent huff and receding, running, tiny feet. The two lovers dared not even move, but Razkar knew he had to... and slid off the bed. Keeping to the shadows and the wall, where his own shadow would not give him away, he crept along... until he was next to the flap...

"... shyke!"

He whispered the word as he saw practically Ayatah's whole family lined up outside. Quinneth was in the middle, shoulders bobbing as if crying, grieving for the loss of... nope... he should have known better. She was fit to fall over laughing. The rest were red-faced and exchanging glances, all bearing some trinket or token for the trip.

Razkar whirled back to Aya, voice and urgent rasp and dead serious: "Back window! We can be out of here before-"

"Come out now, young ones!" If every there was a voice that could be described as "shit-eating", all respect and affection aside, Razkar would immediately name it Quinneth. "I'm sure you're... eager to get going..."

[Ayatah]

Ayatah giggled as she writhed beneath him, still trying to look absolutely furious... until his lips met hers and then all those pretend glares and scoffs disappeared completely. Kisses made so many things better, she had learnt in their time together. And surprisingly, they even seemed to ease the embarrassment of what had just happened.

"I love you. And I-"

Her body quickly changed from blissfully relaxed to rigid, ears straining to hear the conversation from outside. Their beautiful, romantic moments were coming to an end, and all too quickly for Ayatah’s liking.

She kept silent, though her dark eyes watch Razkar as he crept along the wall of their lodge, sneaking closer and closer to the door…

”Shyke!”

Ayatah did not need to ask what had made her lover swear. She was already on her feet, scrabbling for her clothes. In their lustful frenzy of the previous night, loincloths and short had been nothing more than a barrier, and had been torn off and discarded as such.

”Ah!” She picked up a sliver of leather… nope, not hers. Throingw the loincloth at Razkar, she wasted no time before searching for the rest of her clothes. If they hurried, they could escape before her entire clan barged into the lodge.

"Come out now, young ones! I'm sure you're... eager to get going..."

Game over.

Ayatah groaned frustrated, lacking the words to describe her current level of humiliation. Her rushing stopped, and she shook her head defeatedly. Should have known we couldn’t move as fast as Quinneth… Though given that they were both seasoned warriors and she was a century-old woman, you’d think the competition would not have been quite so one-sided.

”We’re coming!” She called out, voice deflated and her head in her hands.

”Oh, we’re quite sure you’ve done plenty of that, my dear. Just hurry up and come out of there, hm?”

Another beast-like cry escaped Ayatah’s lips, but this time a smirk accompanied the noise. Ah yes, Quinneth’s wry sense of humour… She’d miss that. Well, sort of.

”We’ve been caught, love.” Now she whispered; these words for nobody else but Razkar, ”and now we must face the crowd before they get rowdy.” she chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips before finally getting dressed.

And now they must also face their decision to leave. The goodbyes had been said, the belongings packaged up ready to accompany them. As they pulled apart the flap to their lodge (and were greeted by mocking whoops and cheers), Ayatah stole a glance to her lover.

Goddess give me strength when we part our way on this journey.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Oh, yes, he faced the music. Ayatah held open the flap and sunlight bathed them shortly before the jeering, whooping, even clapping family members arrayed before them. Paira and her husband looked somewhere between sternly disapproving and guiltily amused (not as hard as it looks, actually). Quinneth was, as Razkar knew from the moment he heard her voice, enjoying this immensely.

The old get bored. They use the young for amusement.

And she turned to him, shaky smile on her face, looking to him as her rock to-

Razkar jerked a finger her way. "It was her idea!"

"Oh, yeah, sure!"

"It was! Ow!" He rubbed his shoulder but managed that piratical grin he knew she loved so much. Face like thunder she opened his mouth and drew back her fist - not hand, mind you, fist - to level another crack at his shoulder-

But he lunged for her, hands on her spine, bending her backwards as he kissed her down but keeping them both on their feet. There was a mild chorus of impressed "oooh" and the regrettable "eeeeew". Razkar didn't hear much of it. When he kissed her, the world just... dimmed.

Because what else was there but her in that moment?

He broke the kiss and a slightly-mollified Ayatah looked back at him. He winked and straightened them both us, turning to the clutch of Scattered Bones. Trinkets were in some hands, but mostly it was clothes, food, supplies, practical and sustainable essentials that Myrians lived on and put far more stock in for long journeys.

A pretty necklace is nice, but can you eat it in the Wilds?

"Honored Matriarch-" Razkar said, bowing to Quinneth, mainly because he knew would roll her eyes in irritation at that accursed title. "Mistress Paira-" Then to Ayatah's mother, whose face was crushed in a strange line that told him her amusement was not yet sated. "Brother-" Ye gods, even Bennik was amused! "-thank you for... rousing us from our slumber, and bidding us-"

A chorus of even louder shouts, boos and rolled eyes given words drowned him out. The male turned to his lover and shrugged, onxy eyes brimming with mirth even then. That humor... she hoped it stayed with him. Too long had he been devoid of it, eyes like black marbles that seemed to do naught but hate.

Razkar reached out and snaked a hand around hers, squeezing it reassuringly. Just one more, he thought, one more...

A smile that started with a delicate stretching of lips... then she looked down with silky black hair cascading over her shoulders... and white teeth cracked from her lips and sparkled.

The male sighed like a lover from the tales. OK. Now I'm ready to leave...

[Ayatah]

"It was her idea!"

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw dropped and Ayatah laid a feeble punch on his shoulder. The blow made her fingers crack painfully, but Razkar did not seem to feel anything. Damn those broad shoulders!

She tried again, but he caught her second punch with one hand, before slipping another around her waist and on her back. Before Ayatah could even protest (which one course - as a strong Myrian woman - she was going to), his lips silenced her. If that wasn’t annoying enough, she found herself returning the kiss and even smiling underneath his lips.

The Scattered Bones began to give their gifts, and most came with a word of warning, affection, or both. Paira clapped a hand on both Ayatah and Razkar, eyes darting from one face to the other. She had no leaving present for them, only the affection of a mother. ”Never before have two individuals left the jungle for such different reasons. Razkar; you will do our people proud. Go out there and show them Myri’s wrath and strength.” She smiled and gave the young male a brief hug. He would succeed in what she had failed… but as she turned to her half-Eypharian daughter, Paira knew that the failure of her own pilgrimage had been in sacrifice for something equally great. ”And my dear daughter. You are your mother’s daughter -- and your father’s.”

There was a time when the latter part of that sentence would have infuriated Ayatah, but not now. Her Eypharian genes made her the intelligent, bookish woman she had become, and her Myrian heritage gave her that ferocity and passion as well. She could not deny what she was, and Ayatah had finally come to peace with that. ”Thank you, Mother. I hope to do you proud.”

The rest of the Scattered Bones said their personal goodbyes. Ismae hugged them both tightly, already wailing like a girl half her age. Tronx, having finally stopped sulking, bid them awkward farewell, believing he was far too manly to show any emotion. He wriggled and swore when Ayatah embraced him, but eventually gave in and begrudgingly let his half-sister ruffle his hair. ”Don’t grow up whilst I’m gone, okay? I don’t want to return to a horrible, hormonal spotty brother.” The lad grumbled and flopped his arms about frustratedly… but he didn’t pull away from his sister’s embrace

Bennik encased Ayatah into a hug, blinking unnaturally frequently for a man who swore he never shed a tear. When it came to Razkar, the young male slapped a hand on his shoulder and one to his own heart. “Make us proud, warrior. Oh --” He flashed a grin, but his words were tainted with dead-pan seriousness, ”and if anything happens to my little cousin, don’t both coming back.”

Finally came Quinneth, who wobbled towards them with the same crooked walking stick as ever. She looked like such a frail old woman amongst her tall, strong family members. It was hard to imagine that such a wickedly quick mind lived within a withered body. She had something clutched in both of her hands, and they looked like bones.

”It is an old tradition of this clan--“ All around her, family members groaned and rolled their eyes. For all her jokes and quick humour, Quinneth took clan traditions incredibly seriously. She obeyed them all and made sure the rest of the Scattered Bones did as well. ”Oh hush, all of you! As I was saying… There is a tradition within our clan that when a family member leaves the jungle, they take a bone with them.” She opened her hands to reveal two bones; one thin and delicate that Ayatah guessed to be a ulna bone, the other thick and stronger…. Perhaps the humerus? I should really read up on skeletons… ”This bone travels with them, like a good luck charm, or simply reminding the traveller that there is always a home for them here, amongst us. When -- if you come back, you can do with it as you wish. Your mother, for example, decided to make your birth weapon out of her travel bone.”

The old woman placed one bone to each of the lovers, and then backed away and nodded to them. This is it… Ayatah realised suddenly. She began to panic, her heart suddenly beating quicker and eyes moistening…

And then she felt his hand wrap around hers, and all of those fears and worries melted away. She was even smiling now, though she shook her head with dismay. Goddess, he gave her such strength it amazed her. As long as his fingers wrapped around hers, and that crooked smile was on his lips, nothing could scare her.

”Let’s go, love. Let’s start.”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

Razkar couldn't help but smirk at Bennik's pseudo-threat. He couldn't blame him: any male accompanying his sisters on a journey would get pretty much the same treatment from him. But he still gripped his shoulder back and met his steady, honest gaze with his own.

"Would this be before or after you stop hobbling?"

"Not funny."

"Kind of funny."

Another, harder whack on his shoulder, but it was the closest Razkar would get to an embrace from the world-weary cousin of Ayatah. He knew it, too, and the smile the two males shared spoke of a tentative but growing trust.

"Go well, Shorn Skulls."

"And you, Scattered Bones."

Then Quinneth came forward, slow but sure on her aged feet, presenting her bones with reverence. Razkar picked up his, studying it carefully. It looked like... a thigh bone. Long and thick, hardened and almost yellowed with age. It could have been ten years old or a thousand, and when he looked up, Quinneth's wrinkled face was split into a smile.

"When you return, I may tell you where I got that from."

Razkar couldn't help himself. "It must have been quite an enemy..."

The old matriarch wasn't going to hint though, cocked an eyebrow at the attempted investigation. "Tis a tale... but not one for today."

A whirlwind of embraces, warnings, advice, farewells, some with tears but most with the stoic Myrian acceptance and duty that Razkar had known his whole life. Food and supplies were heaped on them, not to mention a small wooden sword that Tronx had pressed into his belt.

"It's got djed in it," the boy whispered, totally serious as he nudged closer to him, "That's how I was able to beat Bennik in sparring!"

Razkar decided it best not to suggest it was his cousin being nice enough to give Tronx a nice ego boost, and accepted the sword with all the gravity he could muster.

"I will keep it close, warrior."

Ayatah rolled her eyes. Tronx looked about ready to charge a nest of Dhani after those words whispered in all earnestness to him. But before she knew it, the goodbyes were over and she was on the precipice. So much left behind. So much behind her, and worse, stretching out ahead of her.

Razkar turned and saw her waver, hands loaded down and needing only-

A callused, rough hand squeezed her pale fingers, making her look up to him. Now there was no mirth or teasing in his dark eyes. There was only a solid promise there, tinged with humor and speaking of so much shared and lost and yet to be gained. The male winked and smiled at her, nodded to the road of crushed bones ahead of them.

”Let’s go, love. Let’s start.”

He smiled again and nuzzled her cheek briefly. The Scattered Bones were still and silent, some holding back tears and wanting this painful moment over as much as the two of them. His words were soft and just for her.

"Even a thousand miles, with a single step. Remember that, my love? You read it to me... now it is time for us to make the fiction a reality."

Razkar started walking, the first step a little unsteady, unsure as he did not know if she would follow... but she kept in step without pause. Without fear. Any doubts he had for this journey were not dead, but buried now beneath her faith.

He glanced to his side and saw her in profile. Chin up, eyes straight and shining with wonders she had yet to see.

[Ayatah]

"Even a thousand miles, with a single step. Remember that, my love? You read it to me... now it is time for us to make the fiction a reality."

The words were quiet and comforting, so Ayatah nodded along, though she said nothing. She was too focused on walking, keeping her feet on that path of buried bones that lead from her home to Taloba.

She was not scared, but… nervous, perhaps. Those concerns still feasted on the bottom of her gut, but the excitement and thrill of what lay ahead battled against them, turning her worries into enthusiasm and anticipation.

”We’re leaving.” She said quietly, as if testing the words out in her mouth before she accepted them. Then she nodded, a small and triumphant smile on her lips. ”We’re leaving!”

Her decision had been made; she was happy about their departure.

Although… that didn’t stop Ayatah from flashing a glance over her shoulder, but they were far enough away from her home now that all she saw was a dark jungle path littered with bones. No doubt her family would be working now, organising themselves with sad smiles and long pauses.

Ahead of them lay Taloba, those huge stone and bone buildings already casting long, strangely shaped shadows on the earth below. Those who left the jungle seemed to share the same belief; it is those first steps away from home, away from Taloba, that are the hardest. Ayatah could already see the truth in that fact, but the thought of traversing across unknown lands was no more comforting. And she would do it without Razkar beside her….

She shook her head vigorously, dispelling those concerns for later. The first part of their journey was together… and she would deal with that when it came.

They paused in the centre of Taloba, both staring up and around them at the passing faces and tall structures. The training hall was to their left, the sound of metal clangs and shouts escaping from inside. It was that place that had turned them into seasoned warriors, into the soldiers of Myri. It was a sentimental moment for Ayatah, as she wondered what poor bugger was being beaten up beyond those walls, but she knew it would be all the more meaningful for her lover. After all, it was the battle skills that Herliz and her crew had taught him that would save his life, and end lives of others’, beyond the sea. Inside those walls were his fang, friends and comrades.

For Ayatah, it was the Vault of Knowledge that she stared longingly at, reminiscing on the comfort those old books had bought to her. As a frustrated youth, she had spent bells on end pouring over the literacy, enjoying the solitary silence. Beyond those walls, she was no less Myrian than anyone else.

How different we are.

”Let the reaver reave and the reader read.” She quoted, throwing Razkar a grin and wink. Their journey had much to promise, and it would be that she would focus on. ”Between the two of us, we should be able to bring the barbarian world to it’s knees. You’ll fight the people, and I’ll bore them to death.”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”Let the reaver reave and the reader read...”

His eyes were on the Training Yards, and his mind was certainly not on she beside him. Memories danced and sputtered before his eyes, each more vivid than the last. His first day, savaged by Herliz and meeting Oxil in a whirl of wooden blades. Countless training sessions where wisdom and skill was imparted through pain and strain that made his very marrow ache.

Erama. Zuran. Rehkuna, towering over them all, not just in stature but in their reverence of her, willing to slay and die for their Fang Leader as much as their Goddess-Queen.

Training recruits himself, channeling his old instructors and amazed at how much like that sadistic bitch Herliz he was able to become. So many days... so many memories...

Then he blinked and he realized where he was, whom he was with. They were memories, and he treasured them, but they were the past. It could be a beautiful place, memory, but also one of darkness and pain. He left it. Locked it away and concentrated on the brightness and the dimness of the future.

Razkar turned and saw much of it in her eyes, now ready to face the path ahead of them, with a smile on her face.

”Between the two of us, we should be able to bring the barbarian world to it’s knees. You’ll fight the people, and I’ll bore them to death.”

A deep, bass chuckle rumbled up from his mouth and he kissed her hand. Razkar had gone past that age where most men believed given the right chances, they could conquer the world single-handed. He'd believed it, oh, yes, he had, and his kills in the field had been as much for his own ego as his duty.

But now... with his gnosis throbbing at the back of his head... he understood his purpose, in the grander scheme of the Goddess-Queen's creation. Stepping back from your own selfish wants and desires, to live for your people, to serve them... it was a daunting task, he often found. Casting aside your ego.

But it was worth it. His people were worth it. And so was she.

"I don't know about conquering the world, my love," he said, brushing a renegade strand behind her ear and caressing her cheek, "But I do know your mind will blossom as lotus after a monsoon in the barbarian lands. That place, Zell-Tee-Vah? A place of highest learning, so they say? I am... I am happy for you, my love, much as we shall be parted."

He kissed her again, as if drinking in her lips, both of them weighed down with supplies and provisons. The main avenue of Taloba stretched before them, leading straight as an arrow to the Gates. He shifted the pack he wore into a more comfortable position and huffed, smiling at her again.

"How did it go... Let the reaver reave and the reader read..." he said, brow furrowing as he sought to remember those dusty pages she had showed him "... And we shall meet again, with joy and laughter, in the land across the sea..."

He chuckled as they began to walk, the rising sun kissing even the highest towers of Taloba. The avenue was already busy with busting Myrians and lumbering Tskanna, the latter now much more chastened and laden with chains after their Djed Storm rampage. They skirted and sidestepped their way forwards.

The Reaver and The Reader did not look back. What lay ahead was far more enticing.