[h2][center][i][color=a187be]~Sarai~[/color][/i][/center][/h2] [sub][center][b]Location:[/b] [i]Actium[/i][/center][/sub]

	Life was a funny thing, mused Sarai. It took so many shapes and forms, and even then could be changed depending on the situation. Take Pyria for example: at one moment, a little girl, the next, a veritable beacon of power that she had no comparison for. The same held true to a lesser extent for Luca: so unassuming, a little naive even - great fun to tease, certainly - and with the delicate and pretty looks of a woman, but as she looked down to where he had planted his staff on the ground, she watched the ice spread and knew that he was more than what he seemed. Then there were the newcomers. The Lamia and the swordsman, as different as night and day, yet, as thick as thieves otherwise.

	The smile on Sarai's face made apparent the gentle amusement she took in watching the scene before her unfold. Her mind wandered to what kind of lives these people had led, and wandered further still to the day they all [i]died[/i]. How would their deaths come about? What shape would they take, in the end? Perhaps even a mighty dragon might suffer the same ignoble death of a slave - how chaotic yet bright life was, and in turn, how simple, yet murky death would be in turn.

	Taking a few steps away from the ruckus, Sarai took in the scene as a whole. It was all the more perfect when she was not involved, and yet . . .

	With a light hop, Sarai returned to her place beside Luca, a soft and placating smile on her face. [color=a187be]"Listen everyone, Luca is right. We should all calm down - there's plenty enough for everyone to enjoy a nice, hot meal!"[/color] she said placing a hand on Luca's shoulder. [color=a187be]"In fact, why not help yourselves to double servings? What better way to celebrate Little Pyria's new-found freedom with a small feast?"[/color]

	Of course, Sarai was fully aware of the kind of toll that would take on his funds, but suggested in nonetheless. Oh, she fully intended to reimburse him with her own funds afterwards, but seeing his reaction to her jest about his relationship with Pyria . . . that raw, undisguised horror at the implication that he was having a sexual relationship with a child made her realizing something:

	That for all that he was a member of one of the most notorious religions of death, Luca was so, incredibly, amazingly, [i]impossibly[/i] sheltered!

	And Sarai, for her part, found that to be just [i]adorable.[/i] Too adorable to pass up on.

	[color=a187be][i]Is this what they call . . . teasing? Yes, I quite think that it is, and I think I like it.[/i][/color]
[center][h2][i][color=black]| Thorn |[/color][/i][/h2][/center] [sub][center][b]Location:[/b] [i]Iron Forest[/i][/center][/sub]

	There were very few times in life - and death - that Thorn was honestly, genuinely surprised; the surprise that could send electricity down your spine and leave you paralyzed, unable to think, unable to move. The amount of times that he had experienced this exact feeling could be counted on a single hand. Thomas was a person who expected the worse outcome, but never despaired that it could not get better. It was a mindset that came useful in his life as a soldier. When he died, Thorn inherited this way of thinking, albeit more subdued and gloom in nature. Now, the words that came from Ramius's mouth caused an addition to those rare moments.

	As soon as he revealed the identity of the man he was pursuing, Thorn's mind was flooded of images. Images of the past, filled with noble battles and glorious conquests, and of a time when Thorn did not exist. A hand crawled its way towards his face, running through his hair as he shook with the weight of a lifetime of memories crashing upon him. And for a single moment, he was silent.

	[color=black][i]KILL THE UNDEAD![/i][/color] 

	[color=black]"Grk!"[/color]  With titanic effort, Thorn willed himself back to the present and drowned out the roaring voice of Thomas. Lifting a raised fist, he quickly brought it up to his face, the force from the blow shaking his head and clearing his mind. 

	[color=black]"Apologies . . . simply a [i]lapse[/i] in judgement,"[/color]  his tone made it apparent that he wouldn't be explaining the reasons for his actions. Shaking his head, he stared straight into the eyes of Ramius. [color=black]"That was unexpected. Of all people who I thought you'd be targeting, I did not expect him."[/color] 

	Certainly, many undead had a reason to be bitter and resentful of him, but those that could still feel emotion and think with a sliver of rationality had more things on their mind than revenge against a withered husk of the dead Emperor Axis. Thorn himself did not feel any resentment for the man; in the end, he became just as much a victim as they were, perhaps even worse of, as he would have to carry the burden of his shame for years to come.

	And yet, at the thought, with the help of Ramius, that he could face this man again, a feeling rose up. It was an emotion he was familiar with, and yet, had also long forgotten. No, it was not even the emotion of it that he recalled, but the ghost of it. It was a feeling that brought him close to laughter; an action he had not experienced in decades. It did not bring him there, but it was close, [i]very[/i] close.

	[color=black]"Now that I know who your quarry is Sir Ramius, what else can there be done but to accept?"[/color]