Flashback [Bronze Woods] Protectors and Pedestrians.

[Archailist]

45th of Fall, 508AV.

Another day in paradise.

The new squirrel never wanted to leave the forest. Or any forest. He knew there was more beyond the simple woods, but here, he was under the protective gaze of his parents and the Syliran Knight patrols that regularly checked the area for slavers and other malcontents. He knew some things about them but his parents hadn't given him much - apparently they would tell him later, and he was happy for that. For once, he wasn't even curious. He was just happy to be back in the Bronze Woods.. where he belonged.

He'd known that all he ever wanted to do was spend his entire life in the forest, the first moment he'd seen the squirrels. The apex of acrobatics - gracefully traversing the highest canopy as if it was nothing more than a road placed a little higher than usual. They seemed almost effortless, through more complex sequences than even a master acrobat. He wanted to become one, soon enough. He chased them, whenever he had the chance. He couldn't keep up with them most of the time because they were simply too fast, but it never stopped him from trying. This would be one of those tries. The squirrels had once again grouped together on some of the larger branches - although they never stayed together for very long, occasionally there would be a grouping of a few or more. He managed to sneak up closer than usual before they caught him and began to sprint off in various different directions.

Being as inquisitive as a real squirrel, he followed them. Not one in particular - he just picked an arbitrary squirrel and set off at the fastest pace he could afterwards, from one tree to the next and so on. The squirrels were always faster - the one he'd chosen apparently more so than even the others. When it came to a particularly long jump between trees spaced quite far apart, it didn't turn suddenly and sprint around it like the others - and nor did it simply change direction in favour of one that was less likely blocked with obstructions. Instead, it only increased its pace and leaped at nothing less than the perfect moment - and was sent sailing straight over the huge gap as if it was nothing but a tiny puddle. And then it was gone. Arch was less fortunate - he didn't see the gap in time, and neither could he stop himself in time. His best was to take a tight grip on the next branch he could find, and grip for dear life as his momentum nearly snapped the branch in two. Thankfully he was left mostly safe.

However, he was disheartened. He desperately wanted to become a squirrel.. and even though he could take their shape, he knew he could never become one of them. He was always an imposter; a squirrel made of clay. And with that thought in his mind, he sighed as he slipped down from the tree and landed on the ground instead. He didn't feel like he deserved to walk through the trees like they did. He deserved to walk home on the ground.. on two feet. Like the damn humans and all the other big creatures.

[Rhydian]

Rhydian sat with her back against a young ash tree, a miniature feast spread out in front of her on a thick winter blanket. Fruits and raw vegetables from the Mithryn Outpost, with dried strips of beef and some cold but cooked chicken. The Witch took a long swig from one of her bloated waterskins and the cool water trickled off her chin and ran down her neck. She wiped it off with the back of one hand and closed the skin with its tight cork. With winter coming she was enjoying the last perfect days of the year, where it wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. Soon the chill would set in, many animals would go into hibernation or altogether leave the area, and life would be harder--harsher. Her trips to Syliras and the Outpost would be more frequent, and the days would grow shorter.

The Witch fretted silently for a while as she bit into a green apple, pondering as she chewed. If one went into winter unprepared, it could spell disaster. Even after all these years living in the Bronze Woods where the season tended to be quite mild, she never once thought to underestimate the Goddess Morwen.

Even now a chilly breeze whispered through the trees, kissing her face and making her shiver. Rhydian pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving the air pleasant again. It had been a fairly quiet day with nothing except the usual. She had made her early rounds then stopped here for a late brunch. The squirrels seemed unusually active, but the Witch assumed they were merely fighting over food. The little hoarders collected so much and half the time later forgot where they put it. A pair of them ran through the branches overhead, shaking the colorful fall leaves and chattering loudly. She watched them retreat to another tree's branches and disappear.

Just as Rhydian prepared to dive back into her meal, she heard a surprisingly loud thump on the leaves carpeting the ground somewhere behind her. There was movement and crunching, then the shuffling of a walk. The Witch turned and peered around the tree, looking for the source of the noise. A flash of a tail caught her eyes and she stood, unsure of why she was so curious. Rhydian wasn't quiet about her approach, because it was what looked like a large squirrel. An odd squirrel. Her face twisted with curiosity; brow wrinkling and nose scrunching. The proportions didn't look exactly right, and there was something funny about its fur she noticed as she grew closer. The Witch stopped, paused, then crouched. Its back was to her, but she knew it knew she was there. There was no such thing as a silent footstep on the mulchy leaves blanketing the forest floor.

The squirrel was several yards away now, and experimentally she gently tossed her apple core into the leaves nearby it. If it would turn and eat so she could see it she would be satisfied. The thing didn't look completely natural, and she wanted to look at it straight on. It almost looked like a little statue, but that wasn't right. Its tail twitched and she quickly banished the silly thought.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He'd barely made it a few steps before he caught sight of the person. Usually, he didn't see many people other than the occasional hunters, foragers, or knights in their heavy plate-mail and astride their large horses. A quick glance down at the food confirmed her as a scavenger.. most likely out picking fruit before the season ended and Winter rolled in. Of course, the squirrel never had to worry about his food supplies in the ways that the humans did. All he ever needed was clay. Plenty of clay for his growth. As long as there were mines of clay nearby, or quarries, then the squirrel would be content with whatever he could find. He actually couldn't eat 'normal' food given his composition, but when the woman threw him an apple.. well, he wanted to see what it was. Quickly, he pulled back down onto all-fours and scurried straight over to it, for a few good sniffs.

Immediately, he shook his head and reeled back. Not even a little bit of clay. He couldn't eat it, then; why did she throw it in the first place? Wasn't she aware of the Pycons that still dotted the city, and indeed, the world? Unfortunately, it seemed like few were. They treated him like a normal squirrel and they treated all Pycons with a little bit of humour in everything they did - like they really couldn't believe they were talking to something that had a mind of its own.. emotions of their own. It was quite depressing really, to be judged even though it was only because his body had a different shape from theirs. He had to work, every time he wanted to be taken seriously.. and the ideas of leading a group of people or being put in a position of authority or power was completely out of the question, as far as they were concerned. He'd never be able to give orders to others - and he'd never, ever be respected.

The woman was staring at him. He stared back for a few long, quite awkward moments. After a few more, he realized that he'd not said anything - perhaps she was waiting for his thanks. He didn't want to appear rude to the new person.. what with first impressions and all. "Oh, erm.. yes. Thank you for the food, but I'm afraid I don't eat apples." As he spoke, he rose on his hind legs and stretched a little. Being a Pycon, he was quite easily able to switch from a more 'natural' squirrel pose to something that was very human. A straight spine, or a straight back at least, with his arms flexing and stretching the clay inside. The stuff was very malleable, and stretched easily as he pushed the edges of his boundaries and put a bit of strain on them, before hunching over once again and sitting down on the balls of his feet.

[Rhydian]

When it turned to investigate the apple, she was horror struck for just a moment. Lidless eyes the color of its body, and now she could really see that it was a statue. Or at least it looked like one. A little moving sculpture. Her first thought was that it was enchanted somehow. Perhaps a magician tinkering with Animation. Surely if that were the case then that mage was powerful indeed, because this squirrel moved like a living breathing creature.

Then it looked at her. Looked at her, with those unblinking gray eyes, and she just stared. It didn't seem threatening at all, but how could it? The Witch could probably step on it if she needed to, but for some reason the idea was unpleasant. She likely looked like a loon crouched there with her head cocked and mouth hanging open in curious amazement. But really, she'd never seen anything like it. Though Pycons weren't completely uncommon, she'd never seen one before nor even heard of them. Her time in the city was always very limited--just the way she liked it. Perhaps if Rhydian had not been marked so young and lived her life out there like everyone else she'd have run into one by now.

Then it spoke. Her eyebrows rose well up high, and despite her surprise she smiled. The Witch shuffled closer across the ground, not thinking it really could have a mind of its own or feel uncomfortable for that matter. Perhaps just a funny quirk to its creation? Something to make an otherwise simple experiment more entertaining and complex.

"Gods," she explained, delighted. "You talk." Rhydian picked up the apple core and tossed it away. It had served its purpose. "What else can you do, little one? Can you tell me who made you?" To him it probably sounded insane, or even a little insulting. When he stood up straight, almost like a little humanoid, her eyes crinkled in delight. She'd grown out of thinking things were cute--it created unnecessary attachments, but she thought that this little creature was the closest something had really come to being considered such in quite a while.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

In some ways, he felt proud for eliciting such curiosity with barely a few words. In other ways, though, it was.. uncomfortable. The way that she, like so many others, stared at him like he was a freak. An attraction, or a surprising little toy to be admired for a while. Still, he quickly quelled such thoughts and instead dedicated himself to focusing on the woman at hand, as she eased herself closer to get a good look at his body. Nothing really particular about it that could separate it from any other Pycons body.. but everyone seemed to admire a moving statue, as he'd been told he resembled. Given that he'd only taken the form of a squirrel quite recently, it was a crude imitation at best.. but it wasn't the only form that the squirrel could take, after all. He intended to really show her what he was capable of... since she'd asked, after all.

"Of course I talk! We all talk, haha. And there are plenty of things I can do. Wanna see one?" Before the witch had a chance to answer, the squirrel closed his eyes. It wasn't really closing his eyes in the same way as a human would, because.. he didn't have any eyelids to speak of. Really, it was just disconnecting the nexus from his eyes, and consciously cutting off his sight. But it gave him more room to concentrate, and shift the clay away from the rest of his body. Instead, he could focus it into his head. Specifically, points around his eyes. They started out with little bulges.. but they slowly grew as he pushed more clay into them and began to sculpt them into what shapes he desired. It was no different than when he'd chosen his 'base' state at the beginning. Just bit of reshaping.. a bit of crafting.. and slowly, two more pairs of eyes began to form. The three eyes on either side of his head created a little triangle, with the 'original' eye being closest. Then above and below, both behind, the other two eyes stared at the woman. All three pairs couldn't see, of course.. the two new pairs were just for show. The original pair could see, though.

"And.. as for who made me, my mother did! Well, her and Harameus." He actually spent a little longer than he should have, trying to choose who he could really say 'created' him. Harameus created all Pycons, and every Pycon knew that. Who made him in particular, though, would be his mother. He didn't know where she was, but she couldn't be too far away. She always loved hanging around in the woods. "Who made you, anyway? Why are you in the forest?" Suddenly, he became a little more protective, and the extra pairs of eyes smoothed out as the clay redistributed itself over the rest of his body.. sort-of like his entire body had been stretched quite wide, and only suddenly 'snapped' back to the original form. "Not many humans come around here.. unless they hunt. Do you hunt?" She might have loads of food around.. enough to spare for the squirrel, even though he didn't eat any of it. But he didn't know.. she might be using it to lure unsuspecting animals so that she could slaughter them and carry them back to the city.

[Rhydian]

The little clay creature didn't give her much time to consider what we could mean or be. An image of hundreds of little disproportional clay squirrels came to mind, but then it was gone and she found herself nodding almost eagerly to his offer.

"I would love to see," she encouraged, for some reason feeling the urge to be polite. The little squirrel seemed so alive. Like it had a complete mind of its own. It was very human in a way, appearances aside. Then she noticed the subliminal changes. The Witch lapsed into intent silence and watched with curious attentiveness as two new sets of eyes bulged, twisted, and grew into life on the small clay face.

"My, you make it seem so easy. This may come as a bit of an ironic surprise, but I can do something very similar. Can you do this with your entire body?" she asked. It seemed exactly like Morphing, which Rhydian was a practitioner of. Really, it was exactly like Morphing. The Witch smiled, enjoying this little discovery. But then there was that name the squirrel rattled off. She's heard that name somewhere before. Harameus. Or perhaps she had read it? "I believe a more fitting question would be, what are you?" It had a mother. Was Harameus the father?

"I assume that my mother made me," Rhydian continued on. Her lips twisted in an amused smile. "And I live here in these woods. I have for... I'd say fourteen years now. It's so easy to lose track. Before that I lived in Syliras." It seemed by his posture that he'd grown a little defensive. The Witch regarded him closely for a moment--she assumed it was a he anyway by the tone of its voice. "I don't often hunt, no. Most often I tend to forage for some of my food, but much of it I buy from the farmers or traders. I return to the city every so often to restock the supplies that I can't provide for myself." It was hard to explain the next portion. She'd never liked divulging this information, so tiptoed carefully and tried to explain without necessarily explaining. Not everyone understood her kind, and when someone didn't understand something they could grow to fear or resent it.

"I'm what you could call a steward. I keep track of the going ons in the woods here and try to maintain some manner of natural order." Casually, she turned the conversation back to him. "Do you have a name, little squirrel? You may call me Rhydian."

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He giggled quietly, and stepped forwards a little more. It was turning out to be quite the.. engaging conversation. "Of course I can do it with my entire body! I'm a squirrel, aren't I?" Well, he was. But he was also made of the exact same material all over. He could easily... well, not so easily shift all of his body into many complex shapes. It took a while and some concentration, of course, but it was possible. "I don't know how you'd be able to do it though.. you're not a Pycon!" Now that was something strange. Humans performing the same tricks as Pycons. It was the one thing, that made the tiny little creatures of clay special; their abilities to change themselves into whatever shapes they please. But this person.. apparently could make changes to themselves as well. He didn't know whether to feel incessantly intrigued, or slightly insulted. Either way, his eyes were widening considerably.. or at least, more clay was unconsciously pushing into them to make them seem like they were.

"Oh.. right. I am a Pycon, in case you didn't get that from earlier. Made by Harameus.. in his image." It was so obvious - why wouldn't he be the product of the God of Transformation? Nobody really understood the alchemy part but the transformation made perfect sense.

The rest of it was tiny compared to the big piece of information - what could be considered 'important'. "Hold on.. you're a steward of the Bronze Woods?" He tilted his head with a small frown.. before it lit up again into a bright smile. "Huh.. that's kind-of what I've been doing. Not.. seriously, I mean, I do what I can. But.. I'm a squirrel, so, I'm responsible for at least something." He didn't really know what to say; his words were getting pretty jumbled by that point, but he tried to focus and keep his mind on the right tracks, so to speak. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Steward Rhydian. I'm the Archailist." He laughed, in a way that sounded somewhat like a chitter. "Everyone always calls me Arch, for short, but really I'm the Archailist." He needed to make specific mention to the fact that it was a title more than name. But then again, all Pycons had the same way about themselves. The name had to fit.. because the name was the only thing that wouldn't change.

"Wait.. if you're a steward of the forest, why haven't I seen you? And why do you want to be a steward?" The squirrel had obvious want - for the trees, the wildlife inside. All of it was just.. well, him. Through and through, in fact.

[Rhydian]

"Yes, you are a squirrel", she agreed with another smile. If a little odd looking, but still a squirrel nonetheless. "What did you look like before if not like this?" The Witch had never considered permanently altering her appearance. Temporarily, of course. But this little creature seemed quite content with the way he looked--intentionally so. It was an interesting idea. What would she be if she were to ever do such a change? Rhydian thought that she would keep a human shape for convenience sake. Fingers and thumbs were useful after all. She decided to file this away for later. Now was not the time to become lost in thoughts of magic. It could be very time consuming. She hoped she hadn't lapsed into a long silence. Quickly she forged on.

"You see, there is a magic that can be utilized that does exactly the same. Morphing it's called. I've been told some can discover it on their own, but I was taught by an old man I once knew." She missed that funny old man. He had been gone for quite some time now.

"Pycon you say?" The name didn't ring any bells. Her brows creased and furrowed and her lips turned down in a faint frown. It made her look years older. "This Harameus, why does his name sound so familiar?" She flipped through some memories in the back of mind, far back and paper thin from time like the pages in an old book. She remembered the Old Man--as she always called the hermit--mentioning the name somewhere, sometime. Then, it hit her full in the face. He had some relation to change, and it had been relevant to the old wizard teaching her Morphing, and many other magics that they spoke of throughout their time together. She blinked at the Pycon, beginning to understand now.

"He is a God, and he created you? Or rather he is the reason you exist, because he created Pycons? And... are all Pycons made of clay? You are born you say from a mother. What do you eat? How old are you? Do you sleep at all? Do you dream?" The questions came rushing out of her before she knew at all what she was saying. Old habits die hard. It wasn't every day she stumbled upon a creature she'd never met before, let alone a God creation. The Witch's curiosity was almost overwhelming. "I'm sorry," she apologized with a slightly embarrassed smile. "You don't have to answer all of that. Sometimes my words run away and my mind can't catch up until it's too late."

She was glad to change the subject with the opportunity arose. The Pycon seemed genuinely pleased by her explanation of what she did. If it could be considered an explanation. It was the best she'd given someone in a long time. Most often she beat around the bush or outright avoided any questions. Her lips were tightly sealed, but this little creature--this Pycon--seemed to be breaking that barrier. Her words were flowing easily, like water. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but the more the squirrel talked the more she began to like him, and the more Witch felt herself relaxing.

"The pleasure is all mine," she assured with a smile in her voice. It was impossible not to grin. He introduced himself so eloquently, and with such a title. The Archailist. His little chittering laugh was infectious and Rhydian found herself chuckling as well. "Which would you prefer? The Archailist, or Arch?" She didn't want to insult the little Pycon. She could tell by the tone of his voice and his assertion that the title was very important to him. He had a bit of a knack for them it seemed. She liked the sound of Steward Rhydian, though the Witch wasn't much for titles herself. Still, she'd let Arch call her whatever he wished. It made no difference to her.

"I don't make myself known to everyone," she tried to explain. Rhydian had never been asked this question before. "My work is often very quiet. You could say I'm in the background, always watching and then acting when I must. I just try to keep things moving as they should, like the Order tries to keep their city running smoothly. My job is to make sure the soil stays healthy for the plants, the plants stay healthy for the animals and the insects, and that every part is in cohesive balance with every other piece and working in unison as they were intended. New parts are added and old parts are taken away every moment of every day. Ever since I was a child I loved the wild. It was a dangerous love, admittedly, but a true love nevertheless. I always wanted to be here," she said, motioning to the trees with a sweep of her arm.

"So when I was nearly grown I was given the chance to live here and do the work that I do. I love it very much. I believe I was made for it, but that may sound cliché. The city was a cold place comparatively. Stone corridors with no sunlight and no wind. No grass and leaves under my feet. You can feel it out here, can't you? The life?"

"You say you do what I do, at least to some extent? What is it that you do, little one?" Everyone was different, and while she knew he wasn't marked by Caiyha, that didn't mean he couldn't do good out here. She was curious to hear of his endeavors. "Have you heard the name Caiyha?"

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He frowned. There were a lot of questions being thrown his way, and yet he had s many more to ask the girl in return. Still, though.. he decided to answer them first, push them aside, and then he could return to the real issues at hand. "I wasn't anything before I was a squirrel." More or less, just a lump of clay. His memories of that time were fuzzy and incomplete; broken. However he remembered brief snapshots of it. Rolling about as a ball or crawling as a simple lump similar to a snail or a slug. "What were you, before you were a human?" It was exactly the same question thrown back at her, although she probably wouldn't understand it in the same way as the squirrel. Sometimes, it just felt strange talking to someone.. well, something so incredibly different. Perhaps he'd get used to it eventually.. but then again, perhaps not.

"Magic... I don't need magic!" Even as he spoke, his body was shifting in small and subtle ways. "I was granted the ability to change by Harameus himself. Magic... is just for the weak, isn't it?" He wanted to be against magic. All Pycon knew that alchemy was just.. wrong, to be used by the Pycons themselves. Humans and other creatures dabbled in the stuff but that was for their own cause and they did so under their own beliefs. But the clay men would never do such a thing. "I mean.. it's just a way to imitate us." He'd better move swiftly along before he got caught up in an argument that he didn't really want to have with the human. It made him visibly uneasy, talking about magics and the like. Perhaps it was just a natural dislike of them, or a certain distrust in their abilities and their reliability. Everyone who knew about magic, knew about the damage that it caused to the body when it was used incorrectly. And, of course.. there was the body count.

"Harameus is a God, yeah.. he is the one that created us, through and through. People say that we were once made by some odd man who dabbled in alchemy, but he was never our true creator. We were the product of Harameus himself." On this, he was adamant. "Yeah, we were all made of clay. My mother made me from her clay. I eat clay. I'm.. a few seasons old. Yeah, I sleep. Yeah, I dream." He was trying to remember all of the questions just after she mentioned them so that he could tick them off, like a check-list. He didn't mind answering all of the questions that she brought about - but he did keep them short so that he could answer them at all. She was throwing them out so quickly, but the squirrel held himself strong. "Anyway, it doesn't matter."

Oh, yes. His name. Or, rather, his title. Everyone always called it a name, but it wasn't. In truth... he'd never really decided on a name for himself. He knew it was very strange but.. he didn't have a name. He had a title that everyone always referred to, as his name. "The Archailist." That was the proper term. "I guess you could call me Arch if you want. Everyone always does, anyway." It wasn't something that one could really push too hard against, after all. When one person did it, they were easy to chastise.. but when everyone did it, then it became much harder. Eventually, he just accepted it and rolled along with the others.

"Oh my. You do take yourself seriously." There was a lot of awe and respect in his voice.. as well as a bit of surprise. There were a lot of hunters that always said they were preserving the balance but he always called them liars.. because they were just killing things. Killing things never maintained any balance. "Well.. when I can, I stop people from invading the forest and damaging it. I... don't really know enough to make changes. Just try to keep it the way it is." Although, sometimes it didn't work. Sometimes people wandered carelessly through the forest and he could only stand there and watch. Other times he scared them off with loud voices calling from above. "And.. Caiyha? Who's he?"

[Rhydian]

His rebuttal took her by surprise. Her mouth opened, then it closed. Rhydian thought for a moment before simply admitting, "I haven't any idea." She knew how children were conceived, but if they were anything other than human before--well before being human--she would probably never know. The grand concept of it made her brain hurt and she was glad when the subject moved onward.

Then not so glad. His opinion of magic seemed rather low, and the Pycon's blatant accusations were really quite rude. She'd never seen a Pycon until now, so how was her use of magic copying his kind? Her brow knitted in a frown and she started to protest, but he was on again answer her next question. Her lips pursed into a thin line but she decided to let it go. It would feel silly arguing with him. It seemed he had the same speed of thought and quirky ability to jump from one thing to the next rather quickly like a real squirrel, and the Witch had a funny feeling she would go nowhere in an argument with him. So she let it go, albeit with a frown still etched on her face.

Pycons were quite the creation it seemed. She was a little impressed after he went through her questions, though still annoyed from his magic rant. Rhydian adjusted herself more comfortably in the leaves, folding her legs underneath herself and smoothing her robe on her legs. Finally she allowed herself to smile again. It was hard not to once back on the subject of that lofty title of his.

"For now, I'll call you the Archailist. Until we harbor a comfortable sense of familiarity." She was teasing him, but kindly so. He might notice it in the tilt of her smile or the crinkle of her eyes.

"You think I'm serious?" she asked with a light bubble of laughter, her previous annoyances forgotten. "You seem to be doing fine with it. At least, doing no harm. There is no need to make changes. Changes happen naturally over time. Throughout the course of a year and even a day, depending. Some have the ability to do great harm here. Others, their footprint is gone as quickly as it's left. A man may fell a tree but thousands more are planted by forgetful squirrels every year. A woman might hunt a doe but hundreds more are born in the fall. It's all a cycle, you see. Now, trying to burn down the forest--that's no good. All of the doe being hunted down--bad. Do you understand?"

"Caiyha, she--not he--rules all of this," Rhydian explained, motioned around them. "All of the squirrels," she smiled at him before continuing, "all of the wolves, trees, blades of grass, and fish in the river. I... well, you could say I work for her." As the Witch talked, she pulled back part of her robe and pulled up her dress, exposing a leg. On it was a great oak tree with all manner of life. The scene moved as if alive and with a life of its own. Birds fluttered in the branches, squirrels chased each other up the trunk, and there were many more creature hidden in the scene both plant and animal.

"This, this is the mark she gave me. She's not unlike your Harameus. Both Gods. Or really, a God and a Goddess."