Completed [The Lavender Ruins/The Purple Forest] War Never Changes

[Rhov]

27th of Spring, 515 A.V.

Rhov sprinted through the emerald green foliage of the Cobalt Mountain Range. Too often had he been forced to endeavor into the cold fortress of Stormhold Castle, and now free from it's confining walls, Rhov reveled in the wide open-spaces and the vast blue sky that floated above him. There were no worries to be had out in the wilderness. No social cues to constantly check. No swarms of hurried people with hurried lives, all too busy to appreciate what lay outside the safety of their stone walls. Nothing but the ground beneath one's feet, the sky above one's head, and the wholeness of self that one achieved standing admist the forest's quiet beauty.

Onyx eyes turning upward, Rhov smiled as he saw Eria's sunset-colored form streak through the air of Midday. The Chaktawe was truly happy that he had ceased fighting with his Guardian, as whenever conflict drove a wedge between the two, Rhov felt unwhole. As though he was warring with a part of himself. His Guardian may have been overbearing and far too cautious for her own good, but she was still his Guardian. And nothing, no force mundane or divine, would ever change that fact or sever the bond they shared. Rhov was many things, but paramount among them all, he was loyal. Once his loyalty was earned, it was damned near impossible for anyone to lose it. Eria and Rhov were different on many accounts, but it appeared his avian companion shared his same fierce loyalty. So, no matter how many times they fought, how many times they both cursed Eywaat for his curious choice in pairing, they would always come back to each other.

Birds of a feather, he supposed humorously, or some-such nonsense akin to it.

A whisper of wind stirred Rhov's fingers, his natural senses spiking sharply in response to sudden movement nearby. However, something about this creature felt...different. It was too large to be a doe or a wolf, and it didn't quite move in the way a human would. Simply put, it just existed in the space it occupied. Like it was meant to be their, but at the same time intruding on the world. The creature felt unnatural to the young bounty hunter, it's form phasing in and out of existence; constantly disturbing the atmosphere in hushed waves of uncertainty. Disturbances coming closer and closer, Rhov unsheathed the curved edge of his ancestral blade from its home on the small of his back. Dropping into a fighting stance, Rhov readied himself for whatever godless monstrosity approached him.

His caution was rewarded with the sound of giggling absurdity. The pale, floating form of a child peered at him from behind the proud height of a tree, an eternal smile plastered to her face. Rhov's features softened at the sight, and a sudden melancholy gripped at his heart. His Abayla had terrified him as a child with tall tales of wandering spirits seeking revenge for unknown slights, but to see a ghost so young, and so full of life even in dark clutches of death, it saddened him deeply. And amiss the sadness, the slow rumble of rage boiled underneath. The child bore deep wounds which pierced through the thick veil of innocence.

How dare someone end the life of one so young? Have the Gods no mercy for even children? Rhov growled internally. The signs of violence which danced across the joyful form of the child shimmered in the sunlight, her half-way existence degrading in the stark reality of the woods.

"Play?" The youngling asked with mirthful trepidation. She bounced with nervous energy, feet flickering above the foliage which dotted the forest.

Eria's sky-scorned feather's flickered as she landed gracefully on Rhov's shoulder. Her eyes twinkled with the same sort of sadness that her charge's did, and it seemed that they were in a rare agreement.

"Of course. Lead the way," he replied with caution, as if the ghost were some deer ready to bolt at the first sign of contention.

Movement trailing thin tendrils of white residue, the spirit bolted off in a seemingly random direction, apparently unaware that those of a living variety could not phase through trees with such nonchalant ease. Her laughter echoed both noisily and ominously through the army of trees which lay between the departed and her new found playmate.

"Wait, child. Wait!" Rhov bolted after the ethereal child, legs pumping with unknown urgency. Too him, something about this whole situation seemed off, and he had no wish for one to have suffered so much already to ail anymore. If she came under any more pain, it would have been under his watch and within his power to stop. The least he could do was ensure the dead girl was protected while she enjoyed herself.

Trees clustered tighter around each other as the forest grew denser and denser, the echo of gleeful laughter still audible despite the increased distance. Rhov found himself having to dodge both the sudden increase of tree trunks and their low hanging branches as he chased after his quarry. His mind sharpened with the hunter's focus as he drew nearer and nearer to the girl, an almost unconscious reflex from his time chasing after both men and beast in his profession.

Rhov's chase came to an abrupt end as he saw the snow white form of the child vanish from sight, leaving the Chaktawe alone within ruined halls of an ancient keep. Walls met wilderness as Rhov ventured further into keep, curiosity driving him forward as images of overgrown ruins swept pass him. The air took on an odd, slightly purple tinge, and the whole place emitted a sense of gloom. The feeling was akin to that of one Rhov had experienced when he learned of a friend's passing, the type of deep-set grief which washed over one with a dogged persistence. Eria chirped uncomfortably as he pressed on ahead, swooping low to once again take her perch on Rhov's shoulder.

If I might suggest-

"Yes, yes. Caution, I know," Rhov finished for her with a well-intentioned whisper, chuckling as the words rolled off his tongue. Rhov imagined if eagles could smile, Eria would be now. The bounty hunter may have wrapped himself in layers of abrasive aggression, but underneath his barriers lay something more. What that was, well, that was something for both Rhov and Eria to discover.

Shifting in to a low hunter's crouch, Rhov stepped forward with a decidedly cautious air. If any more spirits wandered here, not all would carry the dead girl's surprisingly playful attitude. No, while there were spirits that may seek to entertain or to engage, there undoubtedly some of the malevolent kind. Ones who morals were twisted by the cruel hand of time. Rhov was unsure how he would defend against such intangible foes if it came to conflict, but he had faith that both his skills and his God would guide him towards the right path.

Whether the 'right' path was the 'safe' path remained to be seen.

[Rhov]

Upon entering the dead ruins, the first thing Rhov noticed were, oddly enough, the signs of life. Faded imprints of footsteps lay in a scattered procession splayed across the dust covered floor. The flickering firelight of a freshly lit candle made shadows dance with an unearthly glee. Whomever lived here, they obviously did not care about the upkeep of so large a residence, worn furniture and torn paintings from an era long past dotting the decor of the desolate hall. Cobwebs stirred slightly as Rhov brushed past them, undaunted by the decidedly haunting atmosphere of the ruins.

Rhov's senses pricked as he felt the idle movement of the only living residence in the remains of the once great keep. Keeping his back pressed against the hard stone of the wall, he moved forward with a careful pace; darting from shadow to shadow in order to ensure he remained unnoticed. Rhov was unsure what to expect, but anyone who could live so casually among spirits both malevolent and benign was either extremely powerful, or a raving lunatic. Rhov wasn't sure which alternative was better, but he knew to be on his guard in such a place as this.

The consistent chop of metal against wood marked the source of the movement which disturbed Rhov's Chaktawean senses. His onyx eyes peering out from behind the safety of his cover, Rhov searched the adjacent room for the origin of the disturbance. What he saw did not entertain nor delight, only terrify and confuse.

Tall, gaunt, and imposing, the man stood hunched over his project. He was precise in his movements, every twitch, every tremor of his form both calculated and intended. A certain grace characterized his movements, almost akin to that of the child ghost Rhov had encountered. However, the man's most notable feature was in fact an accessory. The vicious edge of a War-Scythe curled outward from a long length of polished black wood. The weapon itself carried a pervasive aura about it, something both strange and comforting. It felt like a final goodbye, a sad sort of feeling colored with light strokes of bittersweet acceptance. Whatever that feeling was, it unnerved Rhov immensely.

Deftly sliding by the adjacent door, Rhov carried on through the broken-down keep unnoticed by both ghost and man. He had become like a phantom himself, taking care to not disturb whatever unnatural denizens still occupied this shell of a home. Chimes had past, and still Rhov had found nothing of interest in the castle. No relics of ancient power, no spiritual experiences that challenged his very core. It seemed that, expecting the unnerving gaunt man of course, only dust and decay took residence here.

A wide set of oak doors seemed to beckon Rhov towards them, their presence promising spectacular sights behind their wooden barriers. Silent as a shadow, Rhov drifted towards them and slid open one of the doors. His efforts were indeed met with a vision both strange and mystifying. A sprawling forest of purple wood took root in the grounds before him, seemingly separate from the rest of the trees that called the Cobalt Mountains home. Lights twinkled throughout the whole of the atmosphere, Will-o-Wisps like stars in the shifting dusk sky. Awestruck, and thoroughly confident he had passed any danger, Rhov moved forward towards the forest, any pretense of stealth abandoned in his wonder.

As he progressed through the lavender colored trees, stray spirits began to gather 'round him. Most seemed harmless to the Chaktawe, purely inquisitive as why anyone with a pulse would wander in the dead woods. Some were sad, as if their time was cut short by some great catastrophe, and others happy, reveling in the immortality that becoming a phantasm offered. One, another child, reached out towards Rhov, an intangible hand grasping at a jet-black lock of hair. When the hand had accidentally grazed the skin of his ear, Rhov forced down a shudder that threaten to emerge. The child's touch had been cold and penetrated the whole of his being, a grasping hand of death trying so very hard to live again.

Rhov increased his pace, attempting to gain some distance between he and the spectral denizens of these purple woods. Despite his obvious discomfort at the presence of ghosts, he pressed onward through the indigo forest. That whisper of purpose still twitched and toiled at the back of his mind, urging him deeper and deeper into unknown territory. A bell had come and gone and still Rhov lingered in the haunting grounds of the souls that still remained.

Rhov, why do you remain in this place? The spirits here, they worry me. His guardian inquired, still circling overhead her charge.

I...I don't know Eria. Something is calling me here. I need to find out what.

If I might interject, would it be at all possible for me to borrow that body of yours?

Alarm shot through Rhov's body as an outside voice inserted itself in he and Eria's mental conversation. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably as an unkown force crashed against his will. Rhov, through resolute in his dedication and beliefs, was unprepared for the sudden intrusion on his soul. A battle of wills emerged as two souls fought for dominance of one body, but Rhov was no match for whomever decided to attack his spirit. Body collapsing on the floor, Rhov watched in terror as his limbs began to move of their own accord.

Ah, much better. Now, come along son. We've got a war to win. Welcome to the Suvan Military.

[Rhov]

Now, let's see what we've got here, the intruding spirit began, curiosity masking the sinister glee it carried from finally finding a living body to hijack. Decently athletic, though a little bit feral for my tastes. Novice fighter with a penchant for curved knives. Surprising amount of grit for someone so young. Not bad, but still, from your memories I can see you've won fights you shouldn't have. You've bested opponents exceeding your skill level with little consequence. How?

Rhov let the spirit natter to its non-existent hearts content, his terror sharpened into a edged focus. The spirit was busy peering into his mind and through his memories, summing up the youth's entirety in a matter of seconds. If their was a time to strike, to reengage the battle of wills which landed him here, it would be now. The ghost was distracted by his aimless prattling, and would expect Rhov to lie docile in fear. Rhov knew he had the capability, the willpower, all he needed to do was execute.

Surging forth with iron-clad strength, the Chaktawe pressed the whole of his being outward, his intangible captor still distracted from his investigations. One arm came free, and then another, only to but viciously recaptured seconds later.

Ah, that's how you survive. You're clever, inventive; waiting until I was thoroughly distracted to strike. You don't even know what power you're dealing with, and still you refuse to yield. Not bad, soldier. Not bad at all. A bit of polish, and you could be a downright threat.

Even without control of his physical ears, Rhov could hear the ambitious approval drip like venom from his ethereal voice. The phantom spoke into Rhov's mind with a permanent raps, as if his lungs were scorched and burned from the inside out. It burrowed into his conscious, words ancient yet comprehensible.

Who are you? Why are you doing this? Rhov demanded, growling with latent fury.

Temper, temper, the specter chuckled, laugh eerie with unknown purpose. You wouldn't be able to pronounce my name if I told you it, so just call me Captain. It was my rank, the only thing that matters in the army. As for my intent, well, that's a bit more complicated.

Images flashed through Rhov's mind, laced with the underlying motion that Captain had felt towards them. He saw a legion of united men, brothers under one banner. A feeling pride washed over him as the soldiers marched on. His vision focused, picking out individuals in the sea of steel that crossed continents and toppled empires. Face after face shimmered before his eyes, each bearing an odd sense of familiarity. The image shifted again, this time intent on two figures. One was tall and pale, with hair streaming fire as it blew in a soft wind. The other was shorter, darker in both coloration in atmosphere. The second's eyes were fractured under the weight of experience. This was a man who had seen the truth of war. The horror that came with battle, the rivers of crimson that watered the land in the name of king and country. Whomever he was, Rhov could feel the connection the Captain and this newcomer shared. They were brothers, in a sense, bound not by blood the of birth but the blood shed at battle's dawn. Still, the feeling struck a deeper chord within Rhov. A shard, unknown, buried, and forgotten in the layers of his soul stirred with a spark of remembrance.

Was he important? Rhov inquired, his curiosity piqued at the unexplainable stirrings within him.

To the Suvans? Not especially. He was like a brother to me though, and his death brings us to the reason why I need you. Captain responded grimly, his personal gloom extending beyond the realm of his own emotions and into Rhov's.

Just as quickly as it rose, the sense of recall faded as images once again rearranged themselves in the two's shared memories.

The cutting smell of iron pierced the air, offset only by the smell of burning flesh. None of that mattered, not sea of fire which burned overhead, not the torn and ragged terrain beneath me. Even the horrid scream of Djed being twisted and torn from the living existed only in my peripheral. Their was only the man who murdered my brother and my blade, thirsty for his black Alahevean blood. The world might be ending as I knew it, but justice would still be served. No cost was too great for this man's dath. An eye for an eye, a life for a life, that was justice of all things.

The Captain's wrath became Rhov's own as he relived the tortuous memory of the phantom's last living day. Suddenly, his possession made sense. The Captain's quest was unfulfilled and kept him anchored to the realm of the living. Something must of occurred to keep his enemy rooted here as well, and so they fought a war which spanned centuries. Rhov wondered how many had met an unfortunate end in these woods, caught between the furious hand of revenge. Rhov wondered if their fate might soon be his own. If he was to survive this encounter, he would have to find a path to victory that countless others had not taken.

Through the muddled emphatic link that he and the Captain shared, due to the spirit's possession no doubt, Rhov felt the echoes of rage which twisted and tore at the ghost's emotions. Rhov knew that these were surface thoughts, ones to hide behind when reality brought the brunt of the world down on the shoulders of men. The Chaktawe followed the trail regardless. Rhov was a dedicated tracker and as stubborn as they come, and he figured that tracing emotions was no different to following trails. Even in the landscape of his spiritual invader's soul, Rhov found his prey. He knew what to do, mad as it might be. Who knew, maybe a bit madness was what those other unfortunate victims lacked? After all, the Captain said it himself. Cunning and cleverness was how Rhov survived, and he prayed to Eywaat that today would be no different.

Let me help you. I may not know the Empire or time you hail from, but I understand rage. The fury which heats the blood and fuels your revenge. Work with me, and I promise I will stop at nothing to complete your, our, vendetta.

Rhov felt the waves of surprise emit from his captor as he pondered his proposition. The forest seemed rapt in silence as the two souls sat in congress within a single body.

Very well. However, if you are going to aide me soldier, you need training. I hope your body can keep up, because what happens next remains in Flux.

Chuckling enthusiastically at a joke Rhov did not understand, the Captain guided their shared body deeper into the lavender glade.

[Rhov]

Night swept over the remnants of day as the world dimmed around Rhov. Shadows told tales of monstrous creatures behind every tree, only to have their facade revealed for naught. It took a few chimes, but Rhov's eyes adapted to the cascading darkness which enveloped the Purple Forest. He found himself in and open meadow, the lavender hue in the atmosphere even managing to tint the grass a faded shade of indigo. Relief pooled itself within Rhov as he felt the horrifying numbness fade and the familiar feeling of control return to his limbs.

Yes, this area should do nicely, the Captain commented absentmindedly, as if he hadn't just hijacked Rhov's body for the last 30 chimes and was instead discussing the viability of building a house here. Alright soldier, prepare yourself for a crash course in the art of Suvanja.

You do realize I have no idea what half the words you say mean, correct?

Just shut up and sit down, the ghost sighed without breath.

Rhov did as the specter requested, unwilling to yield control of his body again. He sat crossed-legged, pleased with the soft feeling of grass upon his skin. After losing feeling and control of his whole body, Rhov realized how much he took for granted when it came to his sense. He took deep breathes, taking in the odd scents of this forest of the dead. Even among the ghosts and spirits of a catastrophe long passed, the twitter of birdsong flitted with lithe abundance through the crisp night air.

Eywaat is with me, and I am ready.

The Chaktawe felt what could only be described as an eye-roll through he and the Captain's emphatic link, but the emotion departed quickly.

Alrighty then. Let's start with the heart of Suvanja, The Flux. I'm not gonna lie to you kid, not like the recruiters did to me. Flux is anything but balance. It is chaos; a destructive storm of Djed that you can only hope to guide in the right direction. Mess it up, lose focus for an instant, and you will tear yourself apart from the inside out. However, keep focus, and you'll find yourself a god among lesser men. With Flux, it's not about reaching your body's maximum potential, it's about pushing past it. Breaking down the barriers which the Gods have placed before us. Becoming more than mortal.

Stirrings of ambition awakened itself within Rhov as he yielded himself to the power of the Captain's voice. A power so monumental that he could achieve feats beyond the realm of mortality? Rhov didn't know how, but this ghost certainly managed to appeal to the bounty hunter's worse nature. His mind cleared of distraction, Rhov sat in silent meditation, attempting to tap into the unknown power which the Captain promised.

Frustration gnawed hungrily through Rhov's patience as chimes passed, no progress made. The specter had given him little to work with, only vague promises and idle warnings. Rhov may have been clever, but he was no magician. He could not snap his fingers and make power appear. What good is a warning if I all I'm doing is grasping at an invisible power?

You kids have patience these day, you know that? Here, let me help.

At the ghost's insistence, Rhov let the phantom's unseen hands guide him. His breathing steadied to a slow, cleansing pace. One deep breath after another, the Captain guided the Chaktawe to a slow sense of serenity, the beck and call of the outside world hushing to barely a whisper. The forest faded around him, until there was only he and the captain in his mind's eye.

Good, you're focused. Now, feel the energy within you. Feel the budding Djed begging for release. Yield yourself to the cyclone, to the storm eternal, and find comfort in its chaos.

With the Captain's guiding words and mental assistance, Rhov let himself slip into a trance of semi-consciousness. His body swayed at the slightest disturbance of the air, the sweet breeze of summer sending him swaying in its wake. To Rhov, however, all of Syliras was dead to him at this moment. In the combination of his possessor's numbing grasp and the new found tranquility of meditation, Rhov had finally cooled his boiling blood.

And that terrified him.

In the landscape of his mind, the young Chaktawe frantically searched for any handhold that would lead him back to conscious, back to the noise and feeling of reality. Deeper and deeper he fell within the caverns of his sub-conscious, the Captain forcing his mind to remain in its semi-conscious state. He tumbled deeper and deeper, further and farther, until he reached beyond the bottom of his being. There, and only there, did he feel the echoes of power that his captor spoke of.

At the precipice of his absolute fear, Rhov finally felt it. The subtle buzzing which had always burrowed underneath him, but had lacked the ability to be ushered forth. Here he had found it. His Djed.

The storm eternal.

Rhov's entire being vibrated with ecstatic energy as he seized full control of his Djed. It sparked with unknown power, ricocheting against the boundaries of his skin as it begged release. The world seemed to emanate with a new vibrancy as Rhov's senses returned to him, one by one. The air seemed sharper, the colors crisper, and the sounds louder. A whole new state of being existed for the bounty hunter, one which both never did and always had. As his Djed awakened in him for the first time, Rhov received the briefest whisper of eternity, and he felt a wholeness that could not be described in any language he knew.

He guided the power slowly at first, moving the strength from arm to the other, and then back again. Through his trial, he found that he could only shift large sections of energy to other large areas of his body. Rhov aimed the storm of his Djed as it prickled throughout his being, and he reveled in its power. He held the within him both his destiny and his downfall, a double-edged sword without a hilt. There was no safe way to grasp it, but he needed the power if he was going to survive.

No, it was more than that. He[ b]wanted[/b] this power, wanted the feeling of dangerous duality that it promised. Such a feeling, such raw, untapped energy, it held the entirety of his mind with wonder. It was liberating and horrifying. Tremendous and terrible.

And then, it was gone.

A sharp snap of iron-clad will, and the Captain ripped control back from Rhov. The steady flow of Djed twisting throughout the Chaktawe's body ceased as the Suvan reigned in the youth, and Rhov damned neared wailed in grief as the immense feeling of wholeness was torn away from him. Can't have you burning out before the big fight, now can we? Don't be so disappointed, you'll get your chance yet.

Forcing Rhov into a standing position, the Captain now guided his captive body with confident ease. Step after step, the specter guided their shared body through the dense lavender foliage. The waxing crescent of a sliver moon stood high in the sky by the time the Captain ceased his movements. We're coming up on the dueling grounds. Get ready.

Wait, what about Suvanja? You said you were going to teach me the style? Rhov inquired, slightly worried about facing an opponent with the same breadth of experience as the Captain.

You took too damned long learning the Flux. We'll have to go with what we got. Worst comes to worst, I'll guide your body through it.

Rhov fell quiet at that, letting the strange sounds of the Purple forest filter through his focus. Turning his eyes upward, it did not take long to sight the form of a blood-orange eagle circling above. Her cry, lilting and fierce, gave Rhov's soul comfort.

Do not worry. I know who guides me.

[Rhov]

The Captain fell silent as he brought their shared body to a standstill. Rhov's body stood in the midst of the Purple forest, a few meters from a open meadow. Spring flowers littered the open ground before him, their colors and hues all diffracted by that ever-present indigo tint in the atmosphere. The glade sat in peaceful contentment, unknowing of the violence that would flood its grounds with blood.

This is the place. Come on now. War waits for no man, The Captain mused solemnly, memories of battles long pasted no doubt re-emerging to the forefront of his mind.

Wait, wait. Why are we rushing in blindly? We have arrived here first, which means we have the advantage. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Two souls sang out in unison as a cunning smile curled Rhov's features.

Ambush.

It took little time for the combined efforts of Rhov's spiritual captor and the Chaktawe to find a suitable hiding place. Lavender leaves clung tight around their shadow wrapped form as they both waited for the Captain's age old opponent to appear. Wind, soft and silent, briefly disturbed the leaves surrounding their position. Rhov sent a quiet prayer to Eywaat, hoping his patron god would grant him cunning in his next fight. Despite having the aide of an ancient ghost, Rhov knew how quickly fights could go south. He would not underestimate his opponent; Gods above know his opponents did the same to him too often.

You'll be wanting to pray to Myri as well, Goddess of War. Eywaat isn't the only God, soldier. Best you remember that.

Rhov paused for a moment, considering the ghost's words carefully. He knew there were other gods and goddesses, he simply never cared enough to broaden his perspective. Eywaat had saved his people, and in return, they devoted themselves to him. However, Rhov also knew that he was a long way from, and any boon from most any god or goddess would prove helpful.

Fine. Myri, uh, grant us victory in this oncoming battle, he grumbled, unused to pleading for help from any other god than his own. Please, he added hastily after a sharp mental prod pierced his mind.

Was that so hard?

Quiet, our prey approaches, Rhov replied with a hasty dismissal, his combat-ready mind now keen as the knife that lay sheathed at the small of his back.

Fingers twitching in response to the tell-tale sign of movement, the bounty hunter's onyx eyes melded into the darkness of his hiding place as he rapidly scanned the oncoming opponent. She was young, like him, but even at this distance Rhov could tell she was strong. Lean muscles hard from labor rippled under the full light of the moon. Her hair, an inky black which stirred lightly in the spring breeze, was tied short into a pony tail. As she approached the center of the glade, Rhov could make out the piercing sapphire of her eyes. They carried a certain hardness to them, one which defied her years. A glint of silver revealed her chosen weapon, a wicked looking dagger firmly clutched in her left hand. If not for their current circumstances, Rhov would have considered her striking. Pretty even.

No time for that, soldier. Listen to a vet when I say that love and war don't mix well.

Indignation and embarrassment flared briefly across Rhov's emotional landscape, both quickly replaced by surprise as his body rushed unwillingly forward. It appeared The Captain had grown tired of waiting, and moved without consensus towards his target.His enemy turned with unnatural speed, dagger flashing forward only to be deflected by Rhov's Angle-Knife. The captain responded with a forward slash, but it lacked power behind the strike, glancing off his opponent's leather armor to little effect. Back and forth the fighters went, neither gaining ground against other as steel clashed against steel in the moonlight.

Rhov's mind was alight with curiosity and wonder as he saw two masters clash against each other in bodies foreign to their own. Their forms were strange to him, more focused on the redirection and application of force than full on parries. Each block turned into an opening, and every cut was a transition into another attack. The two ancient combatants didn't so much as fight as flow against against each other, dancing under and over and around attacks with the grace and fluidity of a feather spiraling in the wind. As one opponent pressed advantage, the other would adapt almost immediately, never losing the tempo of the fight. Truly, these two were masters of war, but a war fought hundreds of years ago. They might surprised how much battle can change in the span of a century.

Give me control! She knows your moves to well, and can react almost instantaneously to any attack you engage with. I'm an unknown. She won't expect me or my fighting style! Rhov shouted at the Captain through their metal link. For an agonizing moment, silence filled their communal mindscape.

Dammit! Fine, but don't petch this up!

An unexpected aching washed over Rhov as feeling flowed back into his body, just in time for the splitting slash of a knife to slice lightly against the skin of his cheekbone. The woman grinned with a sadistic satisfaction. "First blood is mine, old friend."

She had paused expectantly, obviously awaiting the response of some sort of witty banter. Rhov chuckled darkly with grim realization. That may have been the Captain's style, but Rhov? Rhov was a whole new kind of animal.

The cool rush of energy reverberated within Rhov's whole being as a storm Djed built within. The Captain aided the speedy transition of power from his left arm to his right, and the Chaktawe heard the satisfying crunch of bone as his Flux-infused fist crushed against her nose. Opponent still reeling from the force of sucker-punch, Rhov pressed his advantage against the possessed woman. He ducked under a blind jab thrown against his person, following with an uppercut to his enemy's jaw. The punch sent her stumbling backward on her heels, but still she stood.

"That was a dishonest blow!" The possessed woman seethed with anger, words now muddled through her now broken nose.

Rhov roared with rough laughter, dry and dark. Obsidian eyes bored deeply at the woman, and Rhov's voice growled with unabated anger.

"You don't get it, do you? Neither of you do. There's nothing honest about battle, about war. War is brutal, it is bloody, and if you are lucky, it is over quickly," Rhov's voice quivered with disdain as he pressed his verbal point onward. "But not for you two. No. Even after your friends and family have passed, even after your empires are nothing but dust beneath your feet, you still fight on. The Suvan and the Alhean, eternal enemies to the end of time. Poetic," he spat, venom dripping off his every word.

"The only problem? This isn't a poem. It's not a story, it's not an epic, and it's not a ballad. No one will sing of your exploits, of your legacy. No one will remember as you fight on and on again, exchanging lives as if they were currency. Seasons will change, years will pass, and empires will crumble yet again, and still you two will battle on. Frozen in emotion and stuck in a moment that time itself has already forgotten."

"Your war has ended years ago. It's time to soldier up, and move on," Rhov finished solemnly. He prayed to whatever god or goddess that would that these spirits would heed his words. His elders had once tried to calm his blood by saying much the same to him, but he had been to young and filled with anger to listen. Rhov only hoped that these spirits proved wiser than he.

Seconds of silence turned to chimes as both spirits lay dormant in their respective vessels. Fear gripped Rhov's heart as the woman spun the dagger in her hand. With a heavy sigh, she flung the edged weapon down into the ground with a determined thunk.

"What do you think, Cap? Time to move on?" The woman offered, her hands held wide and open.

Still, the Captain remained silent, not even stirring within Rhov's mind. Then, with absolute finality, he spoke through his captive's mouth.

"What do I think?" He chuckled humorlessly. "I think you can eat shyke and die!"

With an ironed dominance, the Captain seized full control of Rhov's bronzed limbs. He lashed out sharply against his age old opponent, legs pumping forward with Flux-enhanced strength even as his arms lost theirs. Movement registered briefly out of the corner of his eye, but it mattered not to the specter. After centuries of fighting, he had the murderer right where he wanted her. A single calloused hand wrapped around the meat of her neck as power flowed back into the limbs.

"I want you to say his name before I rip your throat out! Go on! Say it! Say my brother's name!"

The woman began to choke as the life was slowly crushed out of her. Words struggled to seep out of her mouth, lips turning blue from the lack of air. "Vaas-" she began, before the shrieking cry of an eagle screamed down from the heavens above.

Forgive me Rhov.

The last thing that Rhov saw was the blood-orange feathers of his guardian carrying a hefty rock between her talons. Then, there was only darkness.

____________________________________________________________________________

Morning of Spring 29th, 515 A.V.

Rhov groaned as purple tinted light broke through the dusty window that lay at to his right. Rubbing his head in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache he had, he was surprised to find his forehead bandaged. In fact, he was surprised to have waken in a bed instead of the meadow he had last been in.

"The meadow...shyke!" Rhov exclaimed as memories from last night swarmed his still pounding head. A clatter of noise erupted to his left, and Rhov spun out of bed with knife in hand.

Calm yourself child. 'Tis only I. Eria responded, poised as ever.

"The Captain?" Rhov questioned aloud.

Gone. The same man who brought you here and bandaged you scared him off. Calidus was his name. He said to be gone in the morning. Motioned, more like.

Nodding with a heavy sigh, Rhov gathered the remainder of his belongings before turning to leave the ruins. As he walked down through the desolate castle, he turned to give one last look at the Purple Forest. Much as he would hate to admit it, Rhov felt only pity for the Captain. While he may have been twisted and maddened by time, in some strange way, Rhov felt responsible for him. Not just because he had failed to convince to give up his personal war, but in a way which deeper into him. Something bigger than him, beyond his scope.

"No matter. Questions for another life," Rhov muttered dismissively, the very thought making his head pound. "Come Eria, Syliras is only half-a-day's walk from here, and I need something with alcohol in it. A lot of alcohol."

____________________________________________________________________________

The white glow of unnatural mist flew high above the decrepit remains of the Lavender Ruins. Twisting and turning in the indigo air, it reshaped its form to something vaguely humanoid. It stared hard at the two figures which retreated rapidly from view. With a grim smile, its eyes trailed hungrily after their disappearing forms. "Rest well. The war has only just begun."

[Sayana]

Rhov Skills: Skill EXP Running +1 Observation +5 Socialization +2 Tracking +3 Acrobatics +1 Land Navigation +2 Stealth +2 Endurance +3 Subterfuge +1 Tactics +2 Interrogation +1 Persuasion +2 Rhetoric +2 Meditation +1 Flux +2 Prayer +1 Unarmed Combat +1 Philosophy +1 Lores: Location: Lavender Ruins Ghosts of Lavender Ruins Location: Purple Forest Being possessed by a ghost Tracking: Tracking through a ghost's memories Flux: About pushing past the body's maximum potential Tapping into inner djed Flux: Moving djed from one part of the body to another Myri: Goddess of War War is bloody and dishonest Calidus: Guardian of Lavendar Ruins The Captain: Suvan ghost skilled in flux and the Suvanja Comments : Great job Rhov. It flows so much better now and the Flux is being played much more accurately. Thanks for fixing up those errors and also making a proper NPC for the Captain. There were lots of skills to award for such a rich thread. Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request in the grade request thread. However, make sure to keep the link so that the DS can review graded threads with ease. If you have any questions or concerns about your grade please feel free to send me a message (like really, I’m all ears if you feel like I missed something). Enjoy.