The sand beneath his feet was hard with blood. His toes dug into it through his leather boots. His hand squeezed the sword in his hand, clicking as the leathered resisted the tightening grip. He squinted his eyes as the heat from his body escaped his panting mouth. The human female across him was proving a tougher opponent than he initially realized. She had trained much since the last time they met in the arena.

“You’re getting old,” she taunted him through her own gasping for strength.

“As are you,” he responded back in his own rocky bellow.

Their chests rose and sank in some kind of alternating synchronicity. They were pushing each other back and forth like the salted waves against the Droprocks just over the other side of the arena. They crashed against each other just as viciously, as well. 

His left foot rose and crunched into the sand. His ears swiveled back, focusing his sight on his opponent. His eyes turned diamond and sliced through the female. She took a quick step back, but only to brace herself for the powerful impact that was inevitable. She wouldn’t back down from her former mentor. But the power he seemed to possess seemed to rise from a sudden surge of energy. Perhaps it was the unnerving glare he gave her.

[hider=Wild Glare] [IMG]http://i66.tinypic.com/a0wdc4.jpg[/IMG][/hider]

An elf sat in a booth by himself in a chair, unlike the benches which circled the two fighters. This tourney was being hosted by the Elf, the de facto leader over all sentients upon the island. The two duelists in the center of the arena were in the semi-finals. And the elf was hardly surprised. 

Their swords clashed and they dashed and dodged around each other. The Ainok and the Human proved equally agile. They were both reasonably strong. But what both got them to the semi-finals was their skill with the sword and their endurance. 

Hatash, the Elven Leader of Viragraf, analyzed each of the individual’s movements. He could see their small stumbles. He could see when either of their hands shifted the swords they wielded. Even at such a distance, he was envisioning combating them himself. He was also making mental notes to give them after the Tourney was over.

[hider=Hatash of Ma’vao’loth] [IMG]http://i63.tinypic.com/2sbansz.jpg[/IMG][/hider]

The crowd was small this afternoon. The fights with the wild beasts found throughout Viragraf were much more entertaining to the masses than the tactical and, often, short bouts between expert combatants. 

There was one such individual that Hatash knew would not be there. He was surprised, even startled, when she entered his booth.

“Greetings, Vao’Hatash.” The female’s voice was soft. It fell into the drapery around him. It sank into the stone under his feet, but still vibrated throughout his body. It held a kind of power not found anywhere in Viragraf. Fla’vao, herself, couldn’t even exude such power. Was she doing this on purpose?

“Please, you needn’t be so formal with me, Syeena.”

His own voice was young but strong. He was a larger elf than most of his species but dwarfed Syeena’s own stature. His tone was warm and friendly. It was quite different than when he would address soldiers, warriors, and troops.

“Forgive me,” she said with a deep bow. She needed to show her respect for the leader of the people who protected her. Who protected the being, the deity, that could save her home regardless how far away.

Hatash huffed an amused grin and turned his eyes back to the duel, though his attention was completely on Syeena.

“I apologize for the interruption, but you should know of a raid currently in progress. It is reaching closer and closer to the Weald and Platad. Reinforcements have been requested. Shall I be sent?”

“You needn’t my permission, Syeena. And you aren’t my messenger. Why is it you are telling me of this and not Mada?”

“The Totems seem to be ineffective against these particular Raldorans. I fear Lady Salna, herself, is part of the raid.”

He chuckled to himself and swallowed a chortle. “If Lady Salna was part of the raid, herself, they would already be at Ma’vao’loth.” He paused for a moment. A succession of sharp clangs sounded as the two duelists exchanged blows. “We wouldn’t even know that they made it that far.”

He forgot Syeena’s ability to sense and neutralize magics foreign to Viragraf. Syeena just remained quiet, however. She didn’t need to argue with the Vao’. She just cupped her hands in front of her and looked down at the stone beneath their feet.

“There’s something different about this raid. I don’t feel comfortable not intervening this time,” she confessed.

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I can’t let them know you exist.” He paused again. Another quick flurry of sword strikes against the combatants was heard throughout the arena. “Not yet.”

Syeena simply bowed once more and exited the booth. Her bared feet couldn’t make a sound as they gently caressed the hard marble. Her grace was silent and beautiful.

But she still intervened in her own way.

As Platad Centaurs and Elves cast protective spells against the wild Raldoran Pirates, the grassills came to life. Syeena had enchanted them as she knew the Raldorans usually raided Viragraf from the south since they didn’t need to climb the Droprocks to get to the loot they believed enriched the soils of the island. Few settled in the Grassills for this reason.

[hider=Platad Wardrender] [IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/iozton.jpg[/IMG][/hider]

The long blades of grass swayed in a breeze that was non-existent. The raiders slipped and fell. A few were ensnared by blades of grass that stretched from the ground. They were unable to move and were free to be attacked. Minotaurs swung their huge axes and hammers, splattering Centaur and elves across the hills. 

Regardless of the pirate’s voraciousness, the Viragrafi could not fear death. They knew Fla’vao would reincarnate them into the land, itself. They would fuel the land that once provided for them. They would live on in a different kind of life.

The Grassills swayed and splashed more vigorously as each Platad Warden fell. Their energies strengthened the enchantment by Syeena. However, even they were ignorant of the enchantment.

[hider=Tide of the Grassills] [IMG]http://i68.tinypic.com/svsz5w.jpg[/IMG][/hider]

When the grass sloshed and began to forcibly removed the Raldorans did they begin to retreat. They had come for what they were searching. This fighting was to kill time (and enemies) and prove themselves. It wasn’t any different than any other raid they had performed over the last few months. But it seemed the Viragrafi were weakening. This would be something Lady Salna would definitely want to know.

Syeena floated across the lands of Viragraf as she would have Naya. She arrived back at Ma’vao’loth by sundown when rain softly cried from the sky. She decided to walk on her own back to Fla’vao and her own “throne,” within the Tree Goddess.

She felt the conflict far to her south subside and took a deep breath to cure her of the anxiety that crept throughout her body. As she fell into a meditation, Fla’vao spoke to her.

“[i]You needn’t listen to that child, young Syeena.[/i]”

The voice was large yet soft in her mind. It surrounded her in a firm warmth. It would have been overwhelming for most. But, to Syeena, this was comfort.

“[i]But he must know best for his people,[/i]” Syeena responded in her mind. “[i]And if that means keeping me a secret, then I shall keep from the public eye.[/i]”

“[i]He’s only keeping you as a secret so he can overwhelm the Raldora should they push too hard. He quite fears that Lady Salna will organize an assault on me and take this land for herself.[/i]”

[hider=Fla’vao, the Great Cragfir] [IMG]http://i67.tinypic.com/33lgrr5.jpg[/IMG] [/hider]

The tone was quite matter-of-fact. Syeena was unsure about the nonchalance Fla’vao seemed to show. Was the deity really so sure of her protection? Maybe she didn’t mind the natural turmoil of the sentients of the world. Syeena was sure Fla’vao could reincarnate herself if she cared.

“[i]Fla’vao,[/i]” Syeena telepathized.

“[i]Yes, dear?[/i]”

“[i]Why do you treat me as your student as if I could be your equal?[/i]”

“[i]Because, my dear. You will be my equal when the time comes. The Anima of this foreign world from where you originate is my equivalent.[/i]”

“[i]And how do you know this?[/i]” Syeena was skeptical that a deity from a world not her own could have such prophetic understanding of something she’d never experienced before.

“[i]If they’re like you without that Spark and more power, then you will soon reach such levels of influence.[/i]”

Fla’vao’s prophecies were usually entirely unhelpful in how to reach this level she needed to reach so she could return to Naya and save her realm. Her impatience toward this goal turned into determination and then acceptance that it would occur when it would. Only at the proper moment would Syeena come into her own and be able to save worlds. However, the end result might not be what she would expect.

She rested in her “throne” and meditated across all of Viragraf. The invasion had fled and the island had returned to its usual chaos and turmoil of duels and the manipulation of manas in a way to prevent intrusion.

Days passed while she sat there in the branches of Fla’vao. She was perfectly still and unbothered by small birds and rodents scurrying through the small forest within the walls of Ma’vao’loth.

“[i]Syeena, dear. You have a visitor.[/i]”

She opened her eyes to reveal the glossy white that could see all within nature. She peered down to see who would be disturbing her meditation.

A foot descended down between two branches. A vine extended outward to catch her softly. It grew outward and toward Fla’vao’s face where the prayer originated. Syeena placed her delicate feet one before the other until she was past the canopy of the God Tree and looked down at the female centaur kneeling before her deity.

“My sister,” Syeena said. Her voice was soft but it was carried through the tree and into the ground. It touched the soul of the sentient and she raised her head from prayer to look upon the Prophet.

His centaur had traveled far. From the Kins’one of Platad, she had walked through the Weald and deep into the Mountwoods by herself. She was clearly skilled enough to navigate her way to the Kins’all, itself. Her large horns showed an age and wisdom beyond most and the spear resting upon a rock meters away proved to Syeena that this wisdom was not purely mental.

“What brings you to Fla’vao?” Syeena finished.

The centaur rose from the ground in a swift yet graceful manner. Her age did not show any signs of physical weakness, either.

“Ah, so you [i]are[/i] real,” the centaur replied to herself.

Syeena remained silent until the centaur would answer her question properly. “I pray for support and strength…”

She wanted to address the being stories above her in an attempt at respect. “Syeena,” she said as the vine lowered her to the ground so the two could converse face-to-face.

The centaur withheld her confusion as Syeena neared. She was vastly different than the elves native to this world. Her stature was petite and her ears almost touched each other behind her head. Elves of Omara were usually broad, regardless of gender, and physically equal to the race of leonin found here. Her white hair was the only connecting feature between herself and other elves. However, her whitened hair was unusual for her own kind of elf. But this was not to be known by others.

“Syeena,” the centaur repeated with a bow. The elf extended her hand to wordlessly ask the centaur’s name.

“Yalisphur,” she said with another bow shallower than the last.

[hider] [IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/2wnmqkg.jpg[/IMG] [/hider]

“Yalisphur,” Syeena repeated in a kind of whisper. But it was a statement as if to gather from nature more understanding of the being before her.

“And for what do you require support and strength?”

“My people of Platad and those who roam the Grassills.”

Yalisphur paused, thinking that would be explanation enough for the Prophet to grant her prayer. When a silence extended between them, she decided to elaborate.

“The bodies have decomposed nicely in the past fortnight since the most current raid.”

Syeena wasn’t bothered by the fact she had been meditating for such a period of time.

“However, the bones littering the Grassills have made it into a graveyard that reminds us of the threat the Raldorans pose to us.”

Syeena closed her eyes slowly and extended her consciousness like when the vine from Fla’vao extended to catch her from her throne. It traveled out of the Mountwoods and through the Weald until she coasted atop the rolling Grassills. She could feel the bones that pierced the soft loam and blades of tall grass tangled itself around them.

An echo sounded in her head from far away. “They demoralize those that travel it.”

And so the bones began to sink into the soft loam. The clean white of the fallen’s bones was rooted in the island. Her consciousness then ebbed back to her current physical location.

[hider] [IMG]http://i68.tinypic.com/2551jtl.jpg[/IMG] [/hider]

“And why is the reminder of death so unsettling?” Syeena asked. She was truly intrigued since she had the understanding that most Viragrafi didn’t fear death or mourn over it.

Yalisphur looked into Syeena’s eyes with confusion. Why had she closed her eyes for such a long time?

“It’s not the death. It’s how the death occurred,” Yalisphur said.

“Is this from where the ‘strength’ comes?”

Yalisphur curled her eyebrows in confusion. As much as Syeena didn’t care for the cryptic messages from Fla’vao, herself, she was quite prone to speaking cryptically as well. “Do you also pray for strength to better defend against our enemies?” she clarified.

“Yes,” Yalisphur said with determination.

“It is done,” Syeena said simply and turned to return to her throne within the tree.